So You Want To Get Cucked? (Part 3) (Patreon)

In Part Two you voted to tell your man that you wanted to see him go for it with another guy. So here it goes.

(By the way, you might notice me referring to Frank as your boyfriend instead of your husband - I intentionally switched 

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Fuck it, you’ve gone this far already.

“But it’s not just that, though,” you tell him. “I also… I find it kind of hot, the thought of you actually going through with it. Being with someone.”

Frank looks a little confused. “With someone?” he asks. “Like, fucking someone?”

“No, no, of course not!” you say, even though it’s a lie. You’re not sure why you’re denying it, but it just comes out. You’re overwhelmed with the need to pull back, like you’ve said too much, taken things way too far already.

“I just mean like flirting, touching, that kind of thing,” you say in an attempt to rebottle what you’ve just unleashed. But then you can’t help adding, “Maybe even making out.”

Frank’s silent for a few seconds, and it makes you worried. Is he angry? Hurt? Shit, it was a terrible idea bringing this up at all.

Then he grins. I think it’s more out of surprise, or disbelief, than because he’s actually pleased with what I’ve just told him. “Really?” he asks. “You’d actually want that?”

“I think so?” you say, sounding just as uncertain as you feel. “Maybe.”

Slowly, Frank’s grin grows a bit wider. There’s a hint of playfulness in it. “Maybe?”

You panic a little. “Just forget I said anything.”

He shakes his head. “No way, too late for that. I think maybe we should see if you really do like it.”

“What do you mean?”

He doesn’t explain. Instead he stands up, grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. “We’re going to hit the dance floor.”

Before you can protest he’s dragging you by the hand over towards the dance floor. As soon as he reaches the outskirts of it his body starts to move in time with the music, as though he’s absorbed the beat through his feet just from the proximity to the dancing. He pulls you further in thought, dancing his way deeper into the crowd of people, until he finds a suitable spot. Then he turns to face you, grabbing your other hand in an attempt to get you moving in time with him.

You’re not much of a dancer; you’re awkward and stiff. But you do your best to move to the beat, letting the movement of his body guide you.

The dance floor might not be your comfort zone, but it’s always worth it for the chance to watch Frank in action. He’s a natural, he’s in his element when he’s lost in the rhythm and letting his body move freely. And he looks so sexy when he dances: when you see the way his hips flex and sway and circle, you can’t help but think about they way they thrust into you when he fucks you. He lifts his arms and runs his fingers over his hair, and as he does you admire the toned bicep and the hint of hair trailing into the short sleeve of his t-shirt. And when he turns side on your eyes are drawn to his ass, perfectly packaged in those jeans, bouncing the way it does when it’s sitting on your cock.

He comes in close, dances a hair’s breadth away from you. You can feel his breath, feel the bulge in his jeans brush against you briefly. Then, like the lead in an old-fashioned ballroom dance his body guides you to turn so you’ve swapped places.

Then you see him, the guy that Frank was checking out earlier, dancing maybe a foot away from Frank. Now you know why Frank picked this spot on the dance floor.

Frank acts like he hasn’t even noticed the guy. But you watch both of them as they dance and within a minute it’s clear what’s going on. They’re doing that thing: the one everyone does when they’re trying to subtly test the waters. He turns as he dances, so that he’s briefly facing the guy, seeing if he moves closer or adjusts his movements in response. The guy does; he turns a little to face Frank, briefly looking him up and down. The two of them kind of brush past each other, both demonstrating interest while making it look random enough to be able to deny it if they’ve got the wrong impression. Frank turns back to face me, and as gives me a grin as he moves a tiny bit closer to the guy — just verging on penetrating his personal space. Then slowly, as though it was just a random choice of movements, he’s turning again to face the stranger again.

This time the stranger moves a little closer, turns to face Frank properly. Now the pretence is gone; now they’re dancing with each other.

You watch their body language like a hawk. At first it’s normal — it’s just two people dancing, enjoying the music, having a good time. But you see the stranger move in a little closer, his hands not touching Frank but extended in his direction as though they’re moments away from lightly touching down on his hips. You see their movements become more… sexual, is the only way you can describe it. Frank slowly turns to face you, and this time as he looks you in the eyes he backs up against the guy so that they’re touching.

Frank gives you a playful grin, like he’s teasing you. You like this? his face is asking. This what you wanted?

You can feel the blood rush to your cock watching him with this guy. And a charge runs through it when you see the guy lay one hand gently on Frank’s right hip, pulling him in a bit closer. They’re properly pressed together now, and as Frank starts to grind against the guy you wonder if he can feel the stranger’s bulge against him, growing from the stimulus.

Frank turns back around to face his new companion. The guy lays one hand on the small of his back, the other right where his hip meets the top of his ass. He pulls him in tight, and the two are moving as one, pressed right up against each other.

You wonder if Frank’s getting hard. You wonder if the guy he’s with is getting hard. You’re definitely starting to.

This is escalating faster than you thought it would. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, now that Frank’s left you shuffling awkwardly on your own. And you wonder how it would look, dancing solo watching the two of them get closer, hotter, heavier.

No amount of embarrassment would stop you watching this though.

The two of them are looking at each other intently. The stranger’s hand is running its way down Frank’s ass cheek. Fuck, this is hot. It almost looks like they could—

The stranger leans in and kisses Frank. The surge in your cock is accompanied by a sense of panic — you hadn’t been expecting this. Not yet. You wait for Frank to break away, but as two seconds go past, then three, then four, then five, the two of them are just making out, grinding up against each other.

Finally, Frank pulls away. He’s looking up at the other man for a second, then, finally, he steps away and breaks out of his hold. He shakes his head a little, like he’s trying to wake up from a dream. Then he looks at you, guilt and shame in his eyes.

You just stare back at him, unsure how to react to what you just saw. The two of you lock eyes for a second. Then without warning Frank makes a beeline for the bar.

You follow him, and once you’re at the edge of the dance floor away from the people you find him waiting for you. He looks pained. “I don’t know what came over me,” he says, voice raised over the sound of the music. “I’m sorry. I got… I got carried away.”

You’re silent for a second, not sure how to respond. You’re not even a hundred percent sure how you feel. Seeing him with that guy was a shock to the system, given that it was only ten minutes ago that you were trying to decide whether to tell him about your fantasy. Part of you feels a little hurt that he found it so easy — that he was so primed to cuckold you that he was making out with a guy after mere minutes.

Part of you didn’t want it to stop though, because it was one of the hottest things you’d seen in a long time.

You know this is probably not how it should happen. You should have talked about the ground rules first, made him understand what it was you both wanted to get out of this, andwhat lines you don’t want to cross. You shouldn’t have encouraged him to do anything without having that talk first, and now he’s freaking out because he thinks he’s already crossed a line.

Maybe he has, kissing another guy without even asking.

Still, you still feel a charge going through you at the thought of him making out with that guy. And wondering where it would go next.

He interprets your silence as a bad sign. “I’m so sorry,” he says again. He sounds anguished. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“It’s okay, honestly,” you say, reaching out a hand and gently touching his arm to reassure him. You wonder what to say next. Your head is telling you that you should both probably go home and have a rational discussion about this. But your dick keeps reminding you about that guy still over on the dance floor and where it could lead if Frank let it.