Cuckold's Warning, Chapter 5

Chapter 5

My wife and I did nothing of a sexual nature during the next week, unless you include talking about sex. Given how very arousing her words can be to me, maybe I should include them as an important part of sex. Knowing what I've learned in the months that followed our first experience with turning me into a cuckold, I know I should have paid much more attention when talking to Sandie. She always appreciated Jack's compliments to her, and I could tell they increased her enjoyment.

I remember a part of the conversation we had over lunch the day following her lover's visit to our bed. It was short and to the point, but I know now that it was important to our relationship. Perhaps I should have devoted more thought to just exactly what it was she was asking, as well as to my answer.

As we sat there finishing our coffee, she began by saying, in an almost idle tone of voice, "Well, now you know what it's like to be a cuckold. Is it as exciting as it is in your stories?" I nodded my head in answer, then said, "Actually, it was ten times more exciting. When I saw his cock disappearing inside you, I just about passed out with excitement. Then when he climaxed in you, and I knew you were just about ready for me, I couldn't think of anything else. It was the best thing ever, I guess. What did you think about it?"

She replied, "I can't explain it, but when he was fucking me while you watched, it turned me on lots more than when I went over there last week. I guess it's pretty odd, in a way, but that's just the way it was."

I agreed with that assessment, and then she continued, "I guess what I really need to know is if you want to go on with this. I know I've already asked you that question, but that was before you'd watched it happening, and then had to service Jack, as well as me. What do you think now?"

I took no time whatsoever to give my answer, and replied, "I think it's what we should do. I just can't imagine anything as exciting as last night, and if you want to continue doing it, I do too."

With the sound of finality in her voice, she said, "That settles it, then. Just remember how eager you are now, in case something happens in the future that you may not like."

That ended our conversation, and I cleared the table while she took a leisurely bath. Over and over I recalled every detail about the lovemaking last night, especially my part in it, and it seemed to get more arousing with every image that flashed in my head. I knew I was anxious for the next session, and couldn't understand why Sandie would think I'd have any reservations about doing it again.

It was accepted between us that Jack would join us for dinner again on Saturday, and indeed that became our "schedule," as it were. He and I would chat over the hedge if we were both outside, and I knew he was still mowing our lawn at mid-week, which he had been doing for a few years. If he and my wife had sex during the times when I was at work, I didn't know about it, and I trusted her to not do that unless I were there with her.

The dinner that next Saturday evening was almost an afterthought. As soon as Jack entered our house, Sandie was all over him. She was again wearing her "neighbor-fucking" clothes, as she had come to call them, and the minute Jack saw her dressed like that, he couldn't keep his hands off her. By the time I had served the meal, and called them to the dining room, he had completely undressed her.

The lovers walked to the table arm in arm, and then ate the meal quickly. If you don't think it's arousing to sit at a dinner table with a naked woman, maybe you should try it. I know my cock was stiff all the time, and I'm sure Jack's was also.

When my wife instructed me to serve the dessert, I knew what was expected. I brought a slice of banana cream pie for each of them, and a dish of ice cream for myself. When they saw that, both laughed and Jack commented that I was easy to train.

By the time the dessert had been eaten, they could wait no longer. Sandie told me to leave the dishes, and the three of us hurried upstairs to the bedroom.

Immediately after we entered the room, she ordered me to undress, and then to undress Jack for her. I found myself oddly reluctant to do that, but the arousal I'd been feeling for almost an hour prodded me to follow her instructions. I tried to remove his clothing quickly, but found it to be quite different from removing my own. At last I accomplished my task, and soon there were three naked people in the room, two of them with throbbing erections pointing at a very attractive woman.

Once again, Sandie sank to her knees in front of her lover. She took his penis in her mouth and stimulated it for a couple of minutes, then pulled back and looked at his cock.

She said, still without looking at me, "Come stand beside Jack, sweetie. I want to see if you really are as small as I remember." Again, I was simply her robot to command, and did as she said.

She looked at us, then chuckled, saying in her husky voice, "God, you look even tinier than ever. It's like looking at a little boy's pee-pee standing next to a man's cock, isn't it? I wonder how small you really are. Go get the measuring tape out of my sewing machine, would you, honey?" She then returned her attentions to his member, seeming to shut me out of her world, secure in the knowledge that I'd obey her without question.

Of course, that's just what I did. Her sewing room was next door to the bedroom, and I hurried there to get the thing she wanted, strangely fearful I wouldn't be able to find it. That fear needn't have bothered me, because the tape was laying in a cleared spot on the table, almost as if it had been deliberately placed there to make it easy for me to find. I picked it up and returned to the bedroom.

Her loving attention to Jack's penis had escalated by then, and I longed to be the recipient of such a thing. It was surprising to me that she would take his cock in her mouth, because she had simply refused to ever do such a thing with mine. I had asked her to on several occasions, even resorting to begging a few times. Nothing had ever persuaded her to do it, though, and I knew that what she was so eagerly doing for her lover was something she'd never do for her husband. I tried to find feelings of jealousy, but once again the arousal and excitement I was feeling wouldn't let them appear.

She stopped sucking and licking him as soon as I was once again standing there. Taking the tape from me, she said, "Now let's see if I guessed right. Maybe you really aren't half the size of Jack." She placed the tape along the top of my shaft, with the end at least an inch away from my abdomen. As I hopefully looked at the numbers near the tip of my penis, I saw that it was measuring about 4 1/2" long. Given that she hadn't placed the other end against my body, I was sure the dimension should be closer to 6", but didn't say anything.

She pinched the tape measure at that mark, then held it up in front of us. Jack snickered then, and Sandie joined in, saying, "Maybe 'half' was too generous. Looks like he's even smaller than that."

She then placed the tape on the top of his shaft, and I could see that she was pressing the end very tightly against his pubis. She didn't stretch the tape, but let it lay loosely. Even then, the measurement was not much over 8". When she pinched the tape and showed us the number, though, her finger was at the 9" mark.

She said with satisfaction, "Looks like I was pretty close, doesn't it? What we have here is one pee-pee, and one cock. I like cocks better." They both broke into laughter then, but I was too embarrassed to join in.

After that, the night was almost a carbon copy of what had happened one week before. Jack's penis seemed to enter her more easily this time, almost as if it had been doing that every day during the week, and thereby stretching her pussy to better accommodate him. They both seemed to take slightly longer to reach their orgasms, but both finally did.

My part then began, and it was the same as last week. Again, they fucked a second time while I watch, after which I again performed my duties.

About the only part that was different was when Jack held my legs over my head so my wife could masturbate me while aiming the stuff into my wide-open mouth. As before, he pressed his crotch tightly against me, and began to move his penis in short strokes against my balls.

After I had shot my cum in my mouth, and before Jack could release my legs, Sandie said, "Jack, move your cock a little lower. He was obviously not surprised by that request, and began to move away and down slowly, while still making the thrusts. She kept saying, "Lower. Just a little more."

After about a minute of him doing that, I could feel the head of his cock sliding in my ass crack, and then pushing against the puckered opening. I was sure she was going to tell him to fuck me there, but instead she said, "That's enough for this time, lover. You're sure turning him on, aren't you? I think he'd really like it sometime, don't you?"

The truth was, the sensation of his cock sliding up and down my crack, and then trying to find entrance there, was arousing. I'd never thought such a thing could possibly be true, but it was. Apparently Sandie was also aroused by the sight, and I was sure that particular type of sex would be further investigated in the near future.

After that little interlude, she made me lick him clean once again, and then the lovers went back to what they did best, which was fucking. I went back to what I did best, which was watching. Of course, when they finished fucking, I was through with watching, and became an active participant.

What we did that particular night set the pattern for many Saturday nights to come. There were some slight variations, of course, whenever my wife would think of something new and "kinky" for us to do. On a few occasions, she told me to keeping sucking Jack's cock until he shot his cum down my throat. She seemed to find that more arousing than I did, because to me the taste just wasn't right without her juices mixed in with it. Since that usually meant that Jack would be unable to fuck her anymore during that session, she had me do that particular thing very sparingly.

She also continued to have him rub his cock against my backside, and one time she stopped stroking me before I had an orgasm. She used one of her fingers to wipe up some to the pre-cum that was dripping from my penis, and rubbed it on his glans. When she said to him, "See if you can get it in him, lover," I was sure the time had come when my cherry would be taken. However, it took him a long time to get just the head inside my anus, and she at last said, "That's enough for now. Next time he'll get more." She then stroked me a few more times, aiming my spurts into my mouth. Again I was told to lick him clean before they fucked for the second time that night.

I have never come to terms with how I felt about that penetration. I've never thought of myself as having any homosexual feeling whatsoever, but when I realize that virtually all my stories told of the husband cleaning the cock of his wife's lover, it makes me suspect that was exciting to me because I actually do harbor those feelings. I know that at the time what he did to me seemed to excite me very much, but of course I was in the depths of lust at that time. I just don't know.

___________________

After we had been having our regular Saturday-night meetings for about six months, my world collapsed. I will never forget the particular time it happened, and that Sunday lunch with just Sandie and me was my darkest hour.

I seemed just like any other Sunday, and I had prepared a light lunch for the two of us, which we were eating in the breakfast nook as usual. It was a winter day then, and as we sipped our cups of coffee, we watched the birds at the feeder outside the window. All-in-all a very normal day, or anyway as normal as a day could be for a married couple who had spent the previous night fucking and sucking the neighbor.

After a long span of mutual silence, Sandie said quietly, "Honey, we need to talk about something serious." I could tell by the look on her face that whatever she was going to say was indeed serious, because otherwise she would have smiled at me before beginning, as she usually did.

She continued, "I guess I should tell you right up front that Jack and I have become pretty serious about each other. He says he loves me, and I feel the same way about him. That doesn't mean I don't love you any more, because I do. I can't explain that, it's just the way it is. I love both of you, but I need him in a way I don't need you. Can you understand that?"

She paused then, giving me a chance to speak. It was almost impossible for me to say anything, and I tried to organize my thoughts enough to allow me to say something that would make sense. Finally, I stammered, "I . . ., I guess I can understand that. I can't blame you for loving what he gives you, because I know how much you enjoy it. Are you saying you love him in ways other than that?"

Again she talked in a serious tone of voice, replying, "Yes, I do. I love what he does for me in bed, and I love him as a man. Like I said, I still love you, too. It's just that I have pretty strong feelings for him, and we can't just ignore them."

After struggling with my brain for a few seconds, I finally said, "What does it mean for us. Do you want him more than me?" I felt my world would end then if she said that she did, and I'm sure I didn't draw a single breath until I'd heard her answer.

She replied softly, "It's not that I want him more than you. It's just that I want him just as much as I want you. In a perfect world, I'd just marry both of you, and that'd be the end of it. We could go on doing what we've been doing since last summer, and everybody would be happy."

She paused then and sipped her coffee again before continuing. "Since we live in a male-dominated society, and most men can't stand competition for their women, the law won't let me have two husbands. That's just the way it is. I can't change it."

She stopped speaking then, seemingly waiting for me to come up with a solution. My mind was in complete turmoil then, and all I could think of was to ask, "What do you think we should do?"

It was obvious that she'd been thinking of the answer to that question, because she answered with no hesitation, "Do you remember me asking you several months ago, right when you first became a cuckold, if you really wanted to go ahead with it? In fact, I even asked you twice, because I had to be sure. If you remember right, your answer was that you definitely wanted me to keep fucking Jack, and you thought it was the most exciting thing in the whole world. Well, now you see the results. I love Jack, and I want to be his wife. I guess I can't put it any more honestly than that."

I was stunned by that revelation, and again could not utter a sound. She then continued, "Maybe you didn't know that we've been fucking almost every day since this whole thing started. I just can't get enough of his cock, and he feels the same way about my pussy. It's unbelievable to me that any man could get as many hardons as he does, but it seems like he's always ready for me. Believe me, I'm ready for him almost all the time, too. It took me a long time to realize just how much fun fucking can be, and now that I have, I want it to go on forever."

"To make a long story short, I'll tell you that Jack is going to move in with us tomorrow. He'll be sleeping in the bed with me. You can sleep in the guest room, or anywhere else you like. We'll still let you come to our room on Saturday nights, so you won't be getting any less sex than you have for a long time now. Jack says that you'll never again be allowed to fuck me, which doesn't matter to me, and shouldn't to you. You haven't done that for a long time, and haven't seemed to miss it."

"We'll try that arrangement for a few months just to see how it works out. Who knows? Maybe we'll decide we don't really love one another, and he'll move back over to his own house. It's also possible that we'll come to love each other even more, and we'll want you to move out. If we do that, it means a divorce, so I'll be free to marry Jack."

Again I was unable to answer, and again she continued, saying, "There is a third option that we've been discussing. Do you want to hear it?"

All I could do was nod my head then, as my mouth was too dry to form any words. She continued, "Jack says you can continue to live with us, even after we're married, on one condition. His condition is that you never again be able to fuck me. You see, he says he wants a child, and he wants me to be its mother. His wife was never able to have kids, and he always wanted them. I've come to realize in the past few months that I also want to have a baby, as long as it's Jack's baby."

"Neither of us want you to be able to get me pregnant. That's why he set that condition, and that's why I agree with it. If you'll agree to it also, then that's the way it'll be, and you can go on living with us. What do you think?"

Since I was literally unable to think at that moment, I gave myself some time by sipping my coffee before answering. I knew for a certainty that my wife and I hadn't had "normal" sexual relations for at least six months, and maybe longer. Surely continuing such an arrangement wouldn't be that much of a hardship if it meant I could stay with her. I said, "I think that would be the best way to do it. All I want is to be with you, and if that means never again having sex with you, then that's the way it'll be. Just don't make me leave. I couldn't live without you."

She smiled lovingly then, before saying, "I was sure you'd feel that way, honey. But it sounds like you don't understand just what Jack and I meant. I said we don't want you to be able to fuck me, not that you'd have to do without fucking me. Do you see the difference?"

Without waiting for a response, she continued, "We got the idea from the stories you'd hidden in the bottom drawer of your desk. I found them a couple of months after the others, and both of us have been reading them in the meantime. Do you know the ones I'm talking about?"

I did know those stories, since I'd read them time after time, and as I realized that what had happened to the husbands in them was what my wife and her lover wanted to happen to me, I felt as if a lightning bolt had struck me. Over and over I recalled the paragraphs that revealed in graphic detail what had been done to the men. When I had read them, they were so very arousing, and they were the best jack-off material I'd ever found. When I saw them in this new light, though, I had second thoughts.

Again I stammered as I tried to understand if she meant what I thought she meant. "Do you mean . . ., you want to . . ., to castrate me, and then cut off my . . ., my penis? Is that what you want to do?"

She must have found my confusion amusing, because she laughed before replying, "Yes, dear heart. That's exactly what I mean. Given the number of stories you'd hidden in your bottom drawer, you must be pretty turned on by that sort of thing. Surely you wouldn't have any objection to ending up like that, would you?"

To tell the truth, at that moment my brain was spinning so fast that I didn't have an opinion one way or the other. It was one thing to fantasize about my sex organs being removed, but quite another to find that my wife and her lover demanded it of me if I wanted to continue to live with them.

Seeing I was unable to say anything, she continued, "Jack wants you to be castrated, too, but I think just the penectomy would be enough. Surely there wouldn't be anything wrong with letting you keep your balls. I think I can talk him over to my viewpoint without too much trouble, if you decide you want to do it."

"I guess the thing is that I know how pitiful your cock is, compared to Jack's. That's why it'd be no great loss to get rid of the thing. It's your tongue that's the best part of you, and I'll admit you're lots better at eating me than he'll ever be. I'm sure it's your enthusiasm for giving me oral sex that makes you so much better at it, and I don't want to do anything that'll change that. I'm afraid that if we have you castrated then you won't be nearly as enthusiastic. That's why I'll let you keep your nuts."

Finally I asked quietly, "How would it be done?"

Apparently she had been prepared for that question, for she answered without hesitation, "Jack and his wife used to vacation in Mexico quite a bit before her illness. They liked to drive down to Tijuana and spend time there, especially during his school's winter break."

"He said one thing they always noticed was the large number of medical clinics close to the border. Most of them were just peddling cheap prescription drugs, but some of them were real clinics, with doctors and surgeons. Virtually every one of those had signs in the windows advertising their services, and the one that caught his attention, and that he's always remembered, read, "Elective Surgery for Men - by Appointment Only."

"When he and I realized that the third option I told you about was something we'd consider, he called the Chamber of Commerce in Tijuana and got the phone numbers for some of the clinics that offered surgery. He wanted to get several numbers, assuming it'd be difficult to find one that offered what we wanted."

"We decided it'd be best if I did the calling, since I could say that I was looking for a place that would do elective surgery on my husband. Imagine how surprising it was when I called the first place, told the receptionist what I wanted, and she said, 'We can take care of all your needs in that area, ma'am. I'll need to know which type of surgery you prefer before I can give you the details. Were you interested in castration, a penectomy, or both?"

She laughed then as she recalled her stunned reaction to that conversation, then continued, "I guess the receptionist could tell by my stammering around that I was surprised by what she'd said, and she told me they averaged one visit per day from American wives who had brought their men there for that particular type of surgery. She'd had so many calls about it that she had learned to recognize the tone of voice a woman used when she was inquiring about that, and so she usually just cut to the chase to save time."

"I decided to be equally concise, and told her I wanted a penectomy for my husband, and would like further information about the procedure. She said they had a brochure that illustrated the procedure, and also explained the recovery process, as well as the fees they charged. I gave her our mailing address, and she promised to mail one of the brochures right away. It came a few weeks ago, and Jack and I have read through it several times. Would you like to see it?"

I seemed to be incapable of speech then, and just nodded my head in answer. That she had been prepared for my acceptance was shown when she opened a drawer in the table and pulled out a glossy brochure with a photograph of the clinic on the cover. As she placed it on the tabletop in front of me, I saw the title was, "Elective Surgeries," and under the photo was a single sentence, "Castration and Penectomy Explained in Detail."

She reached across the table to open the brochure to a well-thumbed page, telling me that was the one that discussed what was involved in removing my penis. Through disbelieving eyes, I saw several illustrations that showed the steps in the removal process, and then on the next page a full-page photograph of a man's crotch after it had healed. His pubic hair had been shaved to give a clear view, and the little hole above his sac was all that remained to show where his penis used to be attached.

I continued to stare at the picture, trying to reconcile what I saw there with what Sandie had been telling me. Through ringing ears, I heard her saying, "I think the photo of that guy is just about the most exciting thing I've ever seen. Every time I look at those drawings, and then that picture, I think what it would be like to stand there and watch that being done to you. It's just about the only thing I've thought of ever since that came in the mail."

She then got right to the point, asking, "So, what do you think? Do you want to stay with me bad enough to do that?" She didn't say anything else, merely placed one hand under her chin and stared directly at me. It was obvious that the decision was up to me, and she had said everything she was going to until I'd told her what I wanted to do.

As I considered the options she'd laid out for me, I knew deep in my heart that my decision was already made. There was simply no way I could live without her, and if continuing to do so meant losing something that was unimportant to our relationship, then it would have to go. I answered simply, "Yes. I want to do it."

Her eyes misted over at that point, and she hurried around to my side of the table and sat on the bench close to me. She hugged and kissed me then, something she hadn't done for a long time. Finally she cleared her throat, then said softly, "Thank you, honey. You'll never know just how scared I was that you'd just choose to leave. I love you a lot, and I don't want to have you out of my life. Thank you."

It was as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and I knew my decision was the right one. In my heart I knew I could adjust to life without a penis, and maybe in some ways it would actually make things better for me. Maybe if the thing were not there to control my life, I would become more caring, more loving, toward my wife. At least, that was my hope.

My head seemed to be clear once again, and I asked, "So, what do we do now?"

She answered, "I knew deep in my heart what your decision would be. I called the clinic two weeks ago to schedule your appointment. We'll drive down there the middle of next month, which should give us plenty of time to finalize all the arrangements."

"Your appointment is for January 17, which I thought would be a special day for you." She smiled mischievously at me as I caught the implications of that date. It was my birthday, and I would be 36 years old then.

When she saw I understood, she continued, "I thought it would be a good time for you to start your new life. You were born on that date with that useless hunk of meat between your legs, and it's fitting that you'll be reborn 36 years later to your new life without it."

She went on, "Jack and I will be married in a chapel in Tijuana, where they aren't all that picky about how many husbands a woman has. The wedding's scheduled for the day before your surgery, so you can be there to give me away to him. We'll spend that night in a motel, and you can use your imagination about what we'll do."

"The next day, we'll take you to the clinic. The nurse will get you shaved all nice and smooth down there, and then I'll lead you to the operating room. Jack and I will strap you to the operating table, which I think is kind of sexy, don't you? I asked the receptionist if they'd allow me to do the cutting, and she said that was the usual way it was done. She said the large majority of wives want to do that, so they're set up to let it happen like that."

"After they knock you out to do the repair work, Jack and I will leave for Baja. We're going to spend a week on our honeymoon down there, while you're recovering in the clinic. We'll pick you up on our way home, and after that we'll be just one big happy family."

There seemed to be nothing for me to say, even if I had been capable of formulating a response. It was apparent that my life had been planned for me, and I found it easy to just slip into the comfortable cocoon where someone else made all the decisions. I guess that's why I made no objections when she then told me of other changes that would be made in the near future.

"After we get back, we're going to put both houses on the market. We've decided to move somewhere else where no one knows us, so Jack and I can live openly as husband and wife. We think Portland would be a good choice, since your company has a branch office there. You once said you could transfer there anytime you wanted, so that should make it pretty simple."

"I want Jack to get me pregnant right away. Now that we've decided to have a baby, I want it to happen just as soon as possible. When I'm close to giving birth, there'll be an important job for you to do. Expectant mothers aren't supposed to have sex starting six weeks before birth, until six weeks after. During that time, you'll need to keep Jack happy for me. I know how much it turned you on when Jack put just the head of his cock in you, so you should really like it when he fucks you for real. Plus, you'll have lots of chances to suck him dry. I'll bet you get more sex then than ever before in your life. I think it'll be pretty exciting to watch you two guys going at it. It'll be fun for me to watch, for a change, don't you think?"

She then gave me a chance to add anything I cared to, by saying,"Well, that's how we have it laid out. Can you think of anything else we need to do?"

I really and truly couldn't. It seemed clear they'd considered their plans carefully, and I was just glad that I'd been included in them. It seemed so easy and comfortable to just say, "Whatever you think is best for us, dear."