So You Want To Get Cucked? (Part 38) (Patreon)

In Part 37 you were faced with the choice of going out with Frank to find guys IRL, or going online and doing the work for him. You guys chose the IRL route, so here it is.

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The idea of being publicly cuckolded absolutely terrifies you. And that’s how you know just how much you want it to happen. You feel a rush of adrenaline when you say to Frank, “Let’s go out.”

It doesn’t happen till the following weekend, which means you have almost a full week of non-stop arousal in anticipation. By the time Saturday night rolls around you have no idea how many loads you’ve jerked out imagining the moment Frank cucks you, let alone how many times you’ve busted your nut inside him while thinking about someone else taking that role from you.

You go back to the same club you were at when he first picked up: the one where you first told him you were into the idea of him with another guy. The place is heaving with guys by the time you get there, so you’re absolutely sure Frank’s going to be able to find someone he wants there.

You have a couple of drinks at the bar. While you do, you notice Frank making eye contact with the odd guy here and there, but that doesn’t evolve into conversation of any kind. Frank seems a little on the nervous side, and maybe that’s getting in the way of him making the first move with anyone. No one’s coming over, either, and you wonder if it’s because of your presence. You suppose most guys would see the two of you together and assume you’re either a couple or two people who are about to hook up with each other and aren’t necessarily looking for anyone else.

With a couple of drinks under your belt the two of you hit the dance floor. You stay close by but not too close; you want to give the impression that you’re hanging out together but not that there’s anything going on beyond that. The tactic works, and pretty soon you notice Frank making repeated eye contact with an impressively tall young guy with a buzzcut and a single long earring. They gradually dance closer to each other, coming face to face long enough to indicate interest while maintaining the illusion of random movement in case they’ve read the other wrong. You give Frank a little more space and before long they’re dancing together, bodies close enough that they almost touch.

At that point you dance your way a few metres away, close enough to keep an eye on the action while pretending you’re on your own. Well, to be fair you are on your own at this point. You watch Frank’s body brush up against the tall stranger, you see them laying their hands on each other as their movement becomes more sexual. And you watch their heads come closer together, never actually going as far as kissing but right on the edge of it, close enough to tease each other with the warmth of their breath.

They whisper in each other’s ear, obviously trying to communicate over the noise of the thumping music. Then, without warning, you see the mood shift. They’re no longer getting closer. Frank’s looking around, trying to spot you in the crowd, and when he can’t he lays a friendly hand on the guy’s arm in what looks like a goodbye, and exits the dance floor.

You follow him, confused, and find him back by the bar. “What happened?” you ask.

“He wasn’t into it,” Frank replies, giving you a shrug.

This isn’t what you were expecting. “He looked into you.”

“He’s into me,” Frank says, before pausing as though he doesn’t want to admit what’s about to come next. “He just wasn’t into the whole cuckolding scenario.”

“Oh.” This outcome hadn’t even occurred to you, although it should have. It’s obvious a decent number of the guys Frank meets won’t be into the idea. You suddenly feel guilty, knowing that you’re the reason Frank didn’t take things any further. 

“You can go back,” you tell him. “If you want to go home with him without me, you can.”

Frank shakes his head. “We agreed. If I’m doing this I’m doing it the way we both want.”

You may be disappointed by the result, but hearing him say that makes you feel like the luckiest cuck alive.

The two of you get back on the dance floor a little while later. Frank drifts away from you a few more times to dance with other guys, occasionally getting pretty close to looking like something’s about to happen. But each time it just seems to fizzle. You have no idea why: if it’s just a lack of spark, or a refusal on each guy’s part to become your bull for the night. Frank doesn’t tell you. But after an hour or so he hasn’t even kissed a guy and he tells you he wants to go home.

The mood’s sombre on the way home. Frank seems to share your disappointment about how the whole situation went. You wonder if he feels like a failure who’s lost the ability to pull, or if he feels resentful towards you for blocking any prospect of success. When you finally get home you break a long silence by asking him if he’s okay.

“I’m fine,” he says, sounding dejected. “Just kind of disappointed at how things went.”

“There’s always next time,” you venture hopefully.

His nod is unconvincing, and you wonder if there’s even going to be a next time.

❄︎ ❄︎ ❄︎

Other weekend commitments mean that you don’t get another opportunity to go out hunting guys for two more weeks. Neither of you really talk much about it, maybe because of your shared disappointment at how the first attempt went. And as normal life takes over again it seems like maybe Frank’s lost interest, or even forgotten about it altogether. You haven’t though, you’re still thinking about it — and getting off thinking about it — regularly. 

When the weekend approaches though, and Frank asks you, “Want to go out this weekend?”, the gleam in his eye tells you Frank’s still thinking about taking this forward. He doesn’t even need to explain what he means by going out; you agree instantly and you both know exactly what it means.

This time you try a different approach. Instead of going to the club you usually hit, you go to a bar a little further across town that’s got a reputation as being both a bit of a dive and a good place to pick up. And when you get there the two of you go in alone, you grabbing a drink and retiring to a corner out of the way while Frank gets a drink and sits at the bar, his ass looking particularly appealing on that bar stool whenever he leans forward to put an elbow on the bar.

It’s not long before he gets a bite. Solid guy with a beard and a crew cut who looks a few years older than you and Frank. They seem to hit it off well enough and you watch them chat for a bit, but after the two of them look over at you — Frank must have pointed you out and told the guy about your somewhat unusual situation — the vibe gets a little colder, and it’s not long after that when they part ways.

The next guy is younger than Frank by a few years, lean and sinewy with a roughly unshaven jaw and a thick moustache, his well-fitted t-shirt tucked into his jeans in a way that reminded you of how gay guys used to dress in the early nineties. You can tell by the way Frank’s leaning in close as they chat, touching the guy’s arm flirtatiously every now and then, that he’s into the guy. 

And sure enough, after twenty minutes or so Frank brings the guy over. “This is my boyfriend, Sam,” he tells the guy. “Sam, this is Trent.”

You shake the guy’s hand and make polite small talk for a few minutes, before Frank finally asks the question you’ve been wondering the whole time. “So, we going to do this?”

Trent takes the two of you back to his place, which is just two blocks away. It’s a small apartment that’s messy and cluttered but still looks like it could be featured in a design magazine. He wastes no time throwing Frank down onto his low-to-the-ground bed and climbing on top, and he proceeds to fuck him senseless for the next forty minutes or so. He only acknowledges your presence once to ask, “This what you wanted to see?” as he pounds Frank into the mattress.

This is one hundred percent what you wanted to see. 

You don’t jerk off. It seems impolite somehow, to do that in someone else’s house without their express permission. Like one of those tradesmen you see on hidden camera shows who jerks off while their clients aren’t home. Besides, you don’t have anything to catch your load, and you can’t cum in your pants when you have to go across town to get home after. Not that you don’t cum close though, to cumming in your pants, that is. You don’t even need to touch it.

Once Trent’s finally slammed his cock in one last time and climaxed, Frank rolls over and you see that he’s already blasted all over the bed too. It feels right that you’re the only one who doesn’t get to.

You don’t hang around long after. Frank gets dressed, and with a minimum of small talk the two of you are out of there. And when you finally get home Frank rewards you for your patience, and you get the chance to perform an imitation of Trent’s performance that’s only about seventy percent as good, but at least means you get to nut inside your boyfriend’s ass once it’s been warmed up by his hook-up.

Seeing Frank get fucked was everything you hoped it would be, and it creates a monster within you that demands to be fed constantly. Lucky for you it’s done the same for Frank. And now that he’s had his first successful experience it seems to have broken the initial curse, because when you go back to the club the following weekend — instigated by him, not you — he has no trouble finding someone to cuck you with. Not before he’s taken his time to scope out the talent though, which means you get the pleasure of sitting alone, rock hard, watching him dirty dance with a string of guys. After an agonising stretch of watching him make out on the dance floor Frank finally comes over and introduces you to the guy you’re taking home for the night, who seems very fucking amused that you’re going to be sleeping on the sofa while he fucks your man all night.

Next it’s a mid-week trip to the dive bar after work, the one where he met Trent, and another guy who chats him up at the bar while you sit a couple of stools down listening to the conversation while pretending to be a complete stranger. Until Frank confesses to the guy that his cuck boyfriend’s sitting just over there, which obviously signals to him that this cuck likes the torture. When the first words he says to you are, “So you’re just going to sit there while I take your boyfriend?” you know you’re in for a treat. And you’re not disappointed when the stranger makes you follow them into the toilets and sit in the next cubicle over listening to the sound of him fucking Frank. It’s so fucking hot, sitting there listening to Frank get it from this sleazy guy in this sleazy toilet. It’s even hotter when someone walks in and past the two open cubicles, smirking in amusement at the pathetic guy sitting there listening to other people fuck.

You’re out in bars and clubs so often that it feels like you’re twenty-one all over again. You haven’t had this active a nightlife since long before you and Frank got together. And it’s a wild ride, seeing your boyfriend get with a new guy — or guys — each time while you watch from across the dance floor or sit sipping on a drink at a quiet table. You’d think it would be boring, spending so many nights by yourself like that. But you’re far too engrossed in Frank’s sex life to notice.

Over the next few weeks you get pretty used to this new arrangement. You love how it feels to have this shameful secret, that under the veneer of a traditional couple you’re actually a degenerate cuckold who watches his partner from across the room as he seeks out sex with other men — and then watches from the sidelines with a hard-on as those other men fuck his partner senseless night a after night. 

This secret life comes crashing down all around you pretty soon though.

It’s a Saturday night just after midnight, and you’re at a table by yourself watching Frank grinding against another handsome stranger, when your friends Vince and Vihaan appear out of nowhere. They’re loud and excitable and a little drunk, and they bowl over to your table and sweep you up into a hug.

“You left Frank at home tonight?” Vihaan asks. 

“Uh, no. Uh…” you stammer, completely unable to work out how to explain the situation. You glance over in Frank’s direction, and see that he’s gone from just grinding against the stranger on the dance floor to fully making out with him.

Vihaan’s gaze follows yours and he spots Frank immediately. “Ohhh,” he says, his voice equal parts surprised, scandalised and impressed. “Frank’s found himself some trade then.”

“I didn’t know you two were open,” Vince says. For a second or two you think that maybe you can get away with this being not too unnecessarily humiliating — after all, lots of couples you know have open relationships. But then you glance over in Frank’s direction again and see that he’s coming over, his trade in tow.

Frank doesn’t even see Vince and Vihaan until he’s right on you. He’s caught off-guard, but happy to see them. For a moment they make small talk, until Frank remembers his manners and introduces the three of you to Gavin.

Gavin gives you all a nod, before asking, “So which of you is the one who likes to watch his boyfriend get fucked?”

Even though the music is pumping it all seems to fade a way to silence. You feel time slow and the heat in your body rise in absolute mortification, as Vince and Vihaan look at you in momentary confusion. Finally, you hear the words come out of your mouth, almost like you’re watching it from outside of your body. “That’s me.”

“Okay then,” he says. “We’re going to my place. You coming?”

You pause to take in the reactions of the others. Frank looks a little awkward, studying your face to see how badly you’re going to handle having your secret blown. Vihaan and Vince both look surprised but amused, looking back at you expectantly to see your reaction. You look back at Gavin, and he seems impatient for your answer.

Finally you respond. “Yeah, I’m coming.” 

You down the rest of your drink while Frank farewells Vince and Vihaan. When it’s your turn you lean in and hug them both at once, one on each side. “Have fun,” Vihaan says knowingly.

The whole way to Gavin’s place you feel absolutely humiliated, but you forget all about it while you watch Gavin give Frank an absolute pounding till Frank shoots his load all over his own chest. It’s not till the next morning, lying awake on Gavin’s sofa waiting for Frank to get up, that you think about it again. 

Your friends know you’re a cuck. You wonder how how long it will take for them to spill to your other mutual friends. How long it will be till your whole network knows just how much you like to watch other men screw your boyfriend. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to look any of your friends it the eye again.

You blow your load all over yourself thinking about just how wrecked your social life’s just become.

As you wipe the cum off yourself with a washcloth in the bathroom you get a message on your phone. You take it out to check. It’s from Vihaan:

Hey. Nice to see you guys last night. Hope you had fun ;) Was wondering if the two of you want to come over some time?

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That's the end of this path. You don't get to find out if your friends Vince and Vihaan ever get to fuck Frank - I'm going to leave that one up to your imagination.

Next post will be the other option, the one where you get tasked with finding guys for Frank online. And then the draft will be done!