Cuckold sissy stories
The idea of resuming the story seen by the wife, was blown to me by a reader. Thank you, with the hope of meeting his expectations.
I was very touched to have been invited to Didier’s vernissage.
I’ve known him since my high school years. I realized that I was interested in her, but at the same time, I felt a certain discomfort in her company. He displayed ambiguous behavior among girls and even boys. Nothing happened between us, not even a simple flirtation.
Then, the exams in the pocket, life separated us. Until this invitation, for two people.
I do not know why but I could not free myself from a deep emotion by becoming acquainted with this cardboard. I also do not know why I kept myself from informing my husband, when the invitation was for both of us ! Simple oblivion ? Missed act ?
Of course, I was forced to lie to him when he accidentally fell on the invitation card.
-That’s right. I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you about it.
- How do you know this painter ?
- A high school buddy.
- An ex ?
- Are you jealous ?
Always ask a question to evade an embarrassing one.
- Of course. I care about you and I love you. So, an ex ?
- You’re crazy ! No, nothing at all. But maybe…
- You’re a bitch, you want to drive me crazy.
- Come on, didn’t you tell me you’d like to see me fuck someone else ?
- Yes, that’s true, but I want to play the role of matchmaker, not the role of cuckold. You get the nuance ?
- You’re just a vulgar obsessed and never, you hear me, never in my life will I give you that perverse pleasure.
My husband exasperated me to always remember his candaulist fantasy. Word that was foreign to me before I knew him. He liked that I was well dressed, that I gave glimpses of some parts of my body. My breasts in particular he found very pretty. And my legs I liked to dress up in two pretty flesh-colored stockings. But all this for me, to feel beautiful. And if I put on shoes with heels, it was only for my plasir.
I am rather modest and the look of others makes me uncomfortable. My mother has not ceased to scold me, since I was a child, to be wary of men and especially never to haunt them in inappropriate outfits. Then show off to strangers as my husband wanted !
For me, sex had to be the culmination of love. Catharsis. I sincerely felt a deep aversion to pornography, which dismayed my darling. When I came across images or movies just a little daring, I could not help but save myself, really disgusted. I wasn’t fucking, I was making love.
Yet I like to make love to my husband. Exchange with him moments of happiness. Unfortunately like many women stuck and furnished with a non-attentive companion, I ended up falling asleep frustrated and unhappy. Of course, I don’t like blowjob, let alone sodomy.
To go to the vernissage, I made myself beautiful. I wanted to please Didier, knowing that my darling would be delighted to show his love as a woman. I knew it was already a little cuckold !
There were a lot of people at the exhibition. Very quickly we lost sight of it. Didier hastened to guide me, to compliment me. He is a charming, cultured, modern man who does not seek to dazzle. We already shared in high school a common passion for nature, animals, biology. Everything to please me. However, he had to take care of his guests. I spotted my man in a corner of the room, a little dark. He was taped in front of a painting of which I did not immediately realize what he represented.
- What are you looking at ? I ask him gently.
It is then that I understand that it is a naked woman in the middle of two men. And right away I see this bit of male sex emerging from a black zone. Unbearable ! I’m shocked, and of course I react so quickly.
- But it’s porn ! And even it’s dirty. It’s a sex you see passed, isn’t it ? She’s a shemale.
And without stretching out, I escape from this satanic place.
I take a tour of the room and when I feel the urge to leave, I will greet Didier with a little sadness promising to find us soon. I admit that this perspective was far from displeased. I looked for my darling and horror, I notice that he did not move. If Didier sees it, it’ll be a humiliation for me. I’m rushing to get it back.
- Haven’t you seen enough ? You’re ridiculous to stand in front of this unhealthy scene. Come on, Come on !
In the car that brings us back is the freezing cold.
- Excuse me, but it was your darling Didier who painted this painting ! And I find it very beautiful, beyond the perversity of the scene described.
- It’s true I’m surprised, it does not look like him.
- I hope you understood what was going on.
- Don’t think I’m a fool, please.
I was vexed and I did not want to show him my weakness.
On Saturday night, I go home with my arms full of bags of errands. I’m surprised to see him already at home. Gently, he helps me to free myself from packages.
- Are you home yet ? I thought you were meeting some old friends ?
- That’s true, but it didn’t last very long, because they had to go back to the province quickly.
I don’t know why but I think his answer sounds wrong !
I’m going to get rid of my coat, when my cell phone starts ringing. I immediately recognize Didier’s voice.
- You know, honey, I was more than happy to see you again. I realized I missed you a lot. As promised, I’d like you to come home one night.
My heart starts beating immediately. My husband looks at me a few meters in front of me. So suddenly, I turn around to go and drop my coat in the bedroom. I can feel his look behind my back. Once in my room, I keep the door open but I speak softly.
- Hi, Didier. I enjoyed finding you, too. You haven’t changed.
- Neither do you. You’re always so attractive.
I admit that I am sensitive to these words, even if I feel guilty.
- Still OK to come home for dinner ?
- You know I’m married !
- Yes I know even if it’s you I want to see, you can come with me. Your husband doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you around him all the time. Next Saturday night, how you doing ?
I’m relieved, because going alone was too complicated with this jealous husband ! And that inevitably involved a risk that I wasn’t willing to take.
- Perfect !
I’m so cheerful that I don’t care if we’re free
- Another thing, please me, my beautiful, dress a little sexier. You wear the dress so well and it does not leave an artist insensitive. Okay ?
Coming from him these words make me happy.
- You’re a rascal, but all right, I’ll do it for you.
- Are you happy ? Tell me.
- This question is indiscreet sir the famous painter !
- I’m really worried about you, you know.
I do not really understand the meaning of this sentence. Surprise, I ask him.
- And why are you worried ?
- I wonder if you married the best.
I’m more and more surprised. What does he mean ? Why wouldn’t my husband be the right one ? Imagine that he is not faithful to me and that I am unhappy in my couple. ? I’m upset. Of course my darling would like me more naughty but overall we get along well. I’m going to ask him for details when he tells me we can talk about all this Saturday night.
- By the way, I invited a friend to join us. A delicious being. I should say delicious because she is a young and very pretty young woman. You’ll like her, you’ll see. I’ll kiss you, see you tomorrow.
He hangs up. I need to get my mind back. I’m taking my time to tidy up my coat. I remain for a moment destabilized by his remarks about our couple.
When I enter the living room, I feel the suspicious look of the gentleman. I’m going :
- You know who just called me ?
I add without giving him time to react :
- It was Didier, Didier, the painter who invited us to his vernissage.
- Yes, I see. The one who painted this pervert painting ?
He doesn’t miss one !
- Stop it, you know he paints a lot of other subjects for which he is very famous. He wants to know you, because he didn’t see you the night of the opening.
That’s a big lie. I’m wrong because I don’t like to lie. I add, with a tone that I want light to mask my disorder, knowing that he is not deceived.
- Are you free next Saturday night ?
- Uh… yeah … no, I mean, I do. Anyway, I’ll be free.
- Okay, that’s great.I’ll confirm it tomorrow.
I noted his hesitation. Weird !
We do not talk about it during the meal, or at bedtime when nothing happens between us.
But I can’t sleep. It’s all in my head.
A strange sense of guilt assails me even though I have not committed any wrongdoing. I have to get back on my feet. This man disturbs me and at the same time I feel attracted. I can even regret imposing my darling. Huge, huh ? Whatever ! With his delusions of showing me off, or even more, he will find his account. I’m going to feel rather encouraged to please Didier. But what does this woman come to do ? Will I be my painter’s mistress ? Nasty !
The next few days I feel obliged to be pleasant with my darling !
I don’t like it because I feel like I’m playing and fooling him. I notice that he is not left to please me. I feel like jealousy in him, which instead of upsetting him stimulates him.