Are you a cuckold?

Recently I’ve begun to wonder about what really makes a cuckold, and based on various websites and people I’ve talked to around the web, I come to realize that what a cuckold is cannot be so easily defined. There seem to be so many levels of cuckolding and no one cuckold is the same as the next.

Here is the Wikipedia definition of the term:

“Cuckold is a historic derogatory term for a man who has an unfaithful wife. The word, which has been in recorded use since the 13th century, derives from the cuckoo which gives up nurturing its own by laying eggs in other birds’ nests.

In modern terms, a cuckold can also mean a male fetishist who gains sexual gratification from watching his partner have intercourse with other people or having a wife who dates other men, often with the husband’s approval.”

Let’s look at the first part of that definition. In a nutshell, if you’re wife (or girlfriend perhaps) has cheated on you, then you are a cuckold — whether you wanted to be or not. I think this definition applies to any man whose partner has been unfaithful and likely without his consent or knowledge. Though, in order to be labeled as such, someone would have to know of the woman’s infidelity, or, as the article goes on to suggest, that the cuckold is usually the last to know about his wife’s infidelity.

The second part of the definition applies to the rest of us. The fetishists. The men who fantasize about their partners having sexual/dating relationships with other men. In my opinion, even men with “hotwives” fall into this category, though to a much lesser degree. So, as I’ve been ruminating all of this, I’ve broken it down into 3 categories in my mind:

True Cuckolds: The cuckold’s wife cheats. Period. Without the knowledge and/or consent of the cuckold. Either he tolerates it or doesn’t know about it.

Lifestyle Cuckolds: Men who willingly give up all power to their partner, allowing her to sleep with whomever she chooses, date whomever she chooses and submits to many forms of domination/submission, whether it be financial, sexual, or what have you. These men may or may not be forced into the lifestyle, but they are certainly aware of and accepting of it.

Fetish Cuckolds: Bedroom cuckolding. Men with hotwives or who gain sexual satisfaction/stimulation from his partner’s extramarital affairs, but largely lives a normal life in a mutual partnership with his wife. (I understand that many men with hotwives would debate being labeled as a cuckold, but if you don’t technically have an open relationship where both of you are permitted to play, thus swingers, then, well, if the shoe fits…)

I suppose if I had to put myself into a category, I’d be somewhere between lifestyle and fetish. I give up a lot of power to my wife. She is allowed to play and I am not. She exerts some measure of dominance over me and likes to tease me about her affairs on a daily basis. However, we have a fully-functional family unit. We are partners in life. We raise our children together, pay the bills together, go out together and have a good with one another, etc. We still have sex regularly, enjoy being together sexually, and frankly, I can make her cum in ways no man ever has. Why? Because I know her. I know what turns her on and how to make her cum. That and we’ve never had a strong regular “bull” to alter that situation. I’m not even sure she’s interested in such a thing.

Maybe it will happen someday, maybe not. Who knows. But I can say that nothing we do is without the consent of the other. Sure, there have been growing pains. And there have been times when certain details weren’t shared out of fear that I might get upset. Still, in the end, those details came out. Honesty is our best policy. It makes us stronger as a couple. And truth be told, should either of us ever have an issue with this fetish/lifestyle, we would stop immediately in the name of protecting all that we’ve built together.

What are your thoughts? Agree or disagree? What category do you fall into?

The Letter

This is not my first trist blogging about my wife's affairs.  I used to run a blog on Wordpress.  I started it shortly after my wife and began our open marriage arrangement.  The blog was pretty cut and dry.  "This is what she did today," and "That is what she did yesterday."  There was nothing else to it than that.  That blog got a fair amount of attention, but I never really connected with it because I didn't delve too deeply into my feelings on the subject.  After all, I was harboring some pretty intense fantasies.  Fantasies that embarrassed me and made me self-conscious.  Fantasies that I hadn't told my wife about, and well, she was aware of and reading the blog, so I continued to keep my thoughts to myself.

That was four years ago.  Things have changed.

Rather than rebuild my old blog or repost articles, I'm starting over.  A new chapter has begun in my wife and I's relationship, and I think it's important to put my focus there.  Certainly I'll reference the past, but I'm not going to be detailing it out like I have in the past.  Bear with me.  I'll try to make it worth your while.

Our open relationship started pretty much as described by the term.  We agreed that she was allowed to sleep with other people, and I was to receive the same benefit.  Well, to make a long story short, she started racking up the numbers pretty quickly.  During that summer and into fall she slept with a new guy every month for five months.  It would slow down, pick back up, slow down, pick back up, you get the idea.

Meanwhile, I wasn't having any luck at all.  I mean, let's be honest, there really isn't a huge demand for average looking, married, middle-aged white guys.  Not that I think I don't have anything to offer, and based on my past experiences, I'm fairly comfortable with my performance in bed and I'm also slightly above average downstairs.  It's just, you know, women aren't beating down my door.  I don't think I'm bad looking, but I'm not the guy that gets sultry glances from the other side of the room.  Rather, I'm the guy that walks through a mall and just doesn't get noticed at all.

Anyway...

The longer this went on, it became clear that my wife didn't like the idea of me sleeping with anyone else anyway.  I had, in my embarrassment, attempted to make up a few encounters so that my wife didn't think I was a total loser or anything, but I couldn't keep the secret from her, no matter how harmless it seemed.  She wasn't angry, but she was relieved.  And so this eventually led to me agreeing with her that only she was allowed to play.

I already knew about cuckolding prior to suggesting the open marriage (and I was interested), but at the time the fetish didn't have nearly the exposure that it has now.  From what I've seen lately, it's becoming much more mainstream.  Even porn tube sites are adding cuckold categories to their menus.  But back then you had to do a fair amount of searching to find good material on the subject.  Regardless, there was no way I was telling my wife then.  I was still embarrassed from suggesting that I fantasized about her sleeping with other men in the first place.

However, I've been opening up a lot more as time has passed.  I've slowly become less self-concious about my desires.  And there were a whole slew of reasons why I was self-conscious before.  I didn't want to be insulted.  I didn't want to be subjugated by another man or made to feel inferior.  I didn't want my wife to leave me.  The list goes on.  I won't bore you with the details.

Let's fast-forward instead to last Friday night.  A night I consider to be a major turning point in our relationship.  A milestone even, if you will.  Up until that night my wife had slept with more than a dozen guys outside of our marriage.  All of them white, mostly co-workers of hers or mine, friends and few randoms, even some Craigslist hookups.

Friday afternoon my wife texted me and said that there was a get together after work for a girl in her department that was leaving.  I wasn't in the best of moods that day and I was actually looking forward to spending some time with my wife that night.  When she brought this up, I got bitchy.  We bickered back and forth a bit via text.  Not much out of the ordinary really.  It wasn't anything serious.  We've been married more than ten years now.  The big blowouts are long behind us.  But I digress...

So, how did the argument pan out?  With this text:

"How bout I fuck a black guy for you?"

Needless to say, it caught me off guard.  I know, I know, understatement, but anyway...

She'd never entertained the idea before.  She'd even gone as far as to say that she wasn't interested in black guys.  It wasn't a racist thing, she just happens to be white, and so she preferred white.  Simple as that.

I was blown away.  Truth be told, I'd been fantasizing about that very thing since I first learned about cuckolding.  But I never told her that.  And cuckolding isn't a black-on-white only kinda deal, though it is a fairly common theme.

Of course, my mood changed rapidly.  I became nervous and excited and scared and ultra-horny all at the same time.  I couldn't keep my hands out of my pants all night as I texted her, hoping frantically for some kind of update.  And those updates came few and far between.

Long story short, she did ended up fucking a black guy that night (she was also fondling another black guy at the bar -- a possible hookup for the future).  He was her first.  She fucked him down the street from our house, in his car, in the lot behind the grocery store.  They had made an attempt to get condoms, but neither one of them wanted to go in and buy them, so she ended up fucking him bareback.  Which, I have to say, is super-mega-fucking-awesomo-supreme.  Her first black cock, and raw to boot.  Skin on skin.  I swear I could taste him on her pussy when I was going down on her later that night/morning.

Now, not playing into the myth, he was smaller than I am.  But it didn't matter.  She'd just fucked a black guy.  Even now, days after the fact, I still can't wrap my head around it.  I'm trying to imagine the contrast of his black cock sliding in and out of her white pussy, but it's very difficult.  Which is strange, because I have a vivid imagination.  In fact, when I watch porn, I often substitute her in my mind for the starlets in the films.  Though for some reason, I just can't grasp this one yet.  It's more intense than even her first creampie from another guy.

I've been turning it over and over again in my head ever since.  That, in turn, brought me to a sort of reconcilliation with myself.  I was tired of being scared and ashamed of my fantasies.  I wanted her to know that I wanted her to cuckold me (for the record, I HATE that word, but that's neither here nor there).  I wanted her to know that I loved the thought of her fucking black men.  I wanted her to know how badly I wanted her to do it again, and again, and again.

She doesn't have to be exclusive, I get much of the same joy, excitement, elation, nervousness, and jealousy when she fucks anyone but me, white or black.  But that's part of the appeal for me.  It challenges my comfort zone, because frankly, out there in the real world, I'm a fairly confident guy.  I can hold my own, I think I'm likeable (for the most part) and I do well at most things I put my mind to.

Stepping out of that skin and into another with less control is also appealing to me.  I don't know why.  It is what it is, I suppose.

I want to experience more of the cuckolding aspects.  I trust her.  I love her and I know she loves me.  And I'm finally to the point where I just had to put it all on the table.  I want to experience the domination and humiliation that comes with being a cuckold.  I want her to grab hold, take charge, and run the whole fucking show.

So...I wrote her a letter this morning.  I told her everything.  Every fetish, every kink, every thought, every desire.  As I sit here, blogging, she's at work.  I don't know if she's read the letter or not yet.  I'll have to wait and see her reaction to it.  Some of it she already knew, but I held nothing back this time.

I told what I would like.  I told her that I loved her and that I was ready.  I made no demands.  And I told her to do with it what she will.

For now, I can only wait and see.  What happens tonight when she gets home, well, I'll be wringing my hands until then.  I'm nervous, but I feel good, relieved even, that I was finally able to get it all out.  It's all on the table.

I have faith that, even if she doesn't go for it entirely, she will not judge me.