The Year of the Cuckold

Here's a quickie while dollyanne gets her longer story sorted out.

The Year of the Cuckold
By dollyanne

It was New Year’s Eve—and cold. I stood outside in the wind freezing in my tux on the third floor of a Holiday Inn Express in North Hollywood flapping my arms against my chest and trying not to look to the entire world like a peeping Tom. It was only 30 minutes until the clock would strike midnight and my wife Shauna was sprawled out naked inside the room making love to—I should say, fucking—a hunky black tight-assed blue-jeaned construction worker she met earlier in the evening. I tried to see through a crack in the curtain but the light was dim in the room and at my angle I could only get a glimpse of his pumping ass and her flailing legs and feet, and her bra and black evening gown strewn across the floor. She was very vocal and her throaty moans and high-pitched squeals left no doubt as to what was going on to the couple in the next room, next floor, or for that matter, people in the next building. Fortunately, most people were already in their rooms back from wild raves or dinner and celebrating. There was a smell of firecracker smoke and champagne in the air. More than that, there was a faint—make that strong—sweet smell of grass all over the motel. There was probably more than one orgy going on!

I knew she wanted to hold off her orgasm until the stroke of midnight, but she didn’t make it. Through the crack in the curtain I saw her toes curl, as she hooked her heels into his ass and had multiple orgasms one after another at least 15 minutes before midnight. He kept right on going and she kept right on moaning and squealing. Just hearing her in the heat of ecstasy was keeping me warm—that, and rubbing my hands together and blowing on them.

Finally, as I stood there I heard the fireworks and horn blasts ringing in the New Year, and I thought I heard him grunting too, filling her with a major blast of cum—her first of the New Year. Several people came out of their rooms shouting and hooting and I moved to the railing, pretending to be celebrating too.

Afterwards—about 5 minutes later to be more precise—she called to me and made me come in and lick her clean in front of him. I think he was as embarrassed as I was. He put up his big dick in a hurry, probably thinking I might try to clean him too. “Thanks for the wild fuck, baby,” he said, zipping up his jeans as he backed away, “You are one hot white bitch. We rang in the New Year right, baby!”

She scooted her ass to the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide, and I kneeled down in front of her pussy and started licking. I could tell from her muscle twitches and the way she thrust her swollen mound into my face that she was having another orgasm as I continued to slurp and slobber around on her messy cunt.

I saw him in my side vision shaking his head as he looked on. “Man, I guess it takes all kinds,” he said. “See you around baby. Keep that sweet pussy juiced up. I’ve got more meat right here.” He put his hand on his crotch and lifted it like a baseball player adjusting his jock strap. “And I know lotsa brothers who would even pay good money to knock off a piece of white ass like yours.”

Shauna looked at me and started nodding in his direction, signaling me with her eyes. I knew what she wanted. I lifted my head, cleared my throat, and, in my best sissy-like voice, I said, “Thanks for fucking my wife into the New Year, Sir. I know she really enjoyed that. You were her last fuck of the year and her first fuck of the New Year and you did it ten times—make that a hundred times—better than I ever could. Thanks again, Sir, for pleasing my wife like that.”

There was a pause as he stood there mouth agape, wondering what just happened. Then Shauna waved the back of her hand toward me as if to shoo me away, and said “Go ahead hon, show him what you are wearing. Do it now.” I stood up and sheepishly lowered my trousers showing him my pink panties with white ruffles that Shauna made me wear for New Year’s Eve. A gooey wet spot the size of a misshapen softball was spreading across the front. He backed away with a look of shock on his face like I was a wasp about to sting him. She said, “Don’t worry, I just wanted you know that he’s a sissy wimp. He’s harmless and does what I say. Show him why, hon.” I pulled my panties down and exposed my shaved genitals and pink plastic chastity device to him. Despite the cool air in the room, I felt flush and I’m sure that my face was as red as my wife’s fire-engine lipstick.

I turned to Shauna and saw her nodding at me some more. Finally, she said, “Go on, go on, give it to him.” I hesitated, but again, I knew what she wanted. With my pants still around my ankles, and my panties around my knees, I reached into my jacket pocket and handed him a special business card I had made up with a sexy picture of Shauna and her name and cell-phone number on it. It looked a lot like one of those escort cards they hand out on street corners in Las Vegas.

I handed him the card. “If you want to fuck my wife again anytime in the New Year,” I said, “call her at this number. I know she would love to hear from you and your friends. I can bring her to you or even come pick you up if you need a ride.” I gave him a self-conscious smile and tried to look directly at him to take his attention off my sissy nakedness.

“Thanks, bro, I’ll take you up on that.” He looked at the card like he had the winning lottery ticket. “Shit, this is fucking unbelievable,” he said as he walked out the door still looking at it and shaking his head. He took a look back, gave her a smile and a wave, and said, “See you soon, baby!”

That marked the beginning of one of the most humiliating and delicious years of my life—“The Year of the Cuckold.”

 

Thank you, rachel! You make dollyanne blush!

 

Thank you, disciplined pet--that's very flattering! And, thanks to your Mistress Michelle also for being so encouraging. Dollyanne has dabbled at writing in the vanilla world, but has never had anything published, except for posting stories on sites like this. Perhaps dolly should try to emulate Mistress Constance and get something published in the erotic world. Maybe that's where dolly's talent lies, and who knows, it might make dollyanne popular in the old folk's home (if she lasts that long) when the ladies ask, "What do you do?" Dolly could casually reply, "Write erotic stories." They would probably all gather around dollyanne wanting to get copies for their bedtime reading. That sounds like a good thing! Thanks again for your kind words.

dollyanne