Diary of A Cuckold Couple

When my wife, Emma, said she wanted to cuckold me, it felt like the ground beneath my world shifted. Not because I didn't know what it meant—oh, I knew. I'd thought about it, fantasized about it. But hearing her say it? That was something else entirely.

It happened one night in bed, her hand stroking me as she told me about a man at work who couldn't stop flirting with her. My heart pounded like it always did when she teased me with those little confessions—her voice casual, her words electric. She knew exactly how to light me up.

But then she said it.

"I want to cuckold you," she murmured, her voice low and laced with mischief, her hand never breaking its rhythm.

That single word hit me like a collision of ice and fire. We'd danced around the idea before—safe, distant, wrapped in the cocoon of fantasy. But this? This was real.

For a moment, my head swirled with confusion and raw excitement, emotions clashing like a storm. But Emma didn't stop. Her voice coaxed me, seduced me, as she painted a picture of her with another man—while I watched. Her words were filthy, vivid, intoxicating, and when my release came, it was overwhelming, undeniable.

Yet in the quiet that followed, something lingered in the air. A shift.

I looked at her—the woman I'd loved for eight years, the mother of my children—and saw something new. Her soft smile, the gleam in her eyes, the glow on her skin. It wasn't just fantasy for her anymore. She wanted this.

In the days that followed, the truth settled like a spark waiting to catch. That night wasn't just a conversation; it was a threshold. A point of no return for both of us.

And as much as it scared me, I couldn't deny the pulse of curiosity and desire pulling me deeper.