Cuckold Story: I Came, He Cleaned
This is my cuckold story. It started on a rainy Saturday night—the kind of evening where the world felt quiet enough to disappear. My phone buzzed twice before I even glanced at the screen. Dave. Of course. Predictable, a little breathless. “She’s ready,” he said. “Been watching porn all afternoon. She wants you here in thirty.”
Dave wasn’t just a guy with a fantasy—he was someone who lived for it. He wore his role like a second skin. That’s what set him apart: the way he leaned into the experience. Not just the humiliation. The surrender. The strange, twisted intimacy of it all.
Cuckolding involves more than letting another man have your wife—it’s about giving yourself fully to the ache of it. The jealousy. The arousal. The raw, emotional edge of watching someone else bring your partner pleasure.
He’d been pleading for this moment for months, convinced that letting me sleep with his unfaithful wife would somehow fix what wasn’t broken in the first place. Their sex life had always been intense. But he needed more. Craved something deeper. Sexual gratification through surrender, through the loss of control.
And her? She wasn’t naive. She knew the power she held. Dave called it love. I called it what it was—a wife’s infidelity, dressed up as a gift. And tonight, I was unwrapping it.
He Wanted a Front Row Seat to His Wife’s Pussy
When I entered their bedroom, Tara was already in position—on her back, heels on the bedposts, a tight black lingerie barely covering her thighs. Her hair was curled. Lipstick dark. Her pussy lips were already slick and peeking out.
“Watching porn’s got her riled up,” Dave mumbled, already seated in the corner like a pathetic little audience member.
“Shhh,” she said to him without even looking. “Let the man speak.”
I didn’t say much. Just dropped my coat, walked over to her, and opened her robe slowly. Her wet pussy glistened, shaved, visibly throbbing, and fucking hot. I wondered how many other men have been up in there.
I touched her with two fingers—lightly. She flinched.
“Too sensitive already?” I said.
“She’s been edging for an hour,” Dave added, clearly proud of himself.
I smirked. “Good. Let’s undo all your hard work.”
Dave sat still, wide-eyed, probably leaking in his little Shots Man Chastity Cage.
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I Was Inside Her Before the Cuckold Even Took Off His Pants
There was no hesitation. No hesitation from me, no protest from her. Just a bit of Liquid Passion Lube, and it was a slick slide into his wife’s pussy. I paused for a moment, feeling the tension build, heightening the anticipation.
“She’s so fucking wet,” I said, looking directly at him. “You sure you want to see this?”
He nodded like a sissy cuckold trained to be obedient.
Tara wrapped her legs around me and whispered, “I’ve waited all week.”
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He Watched Me Pound Her G-Spot While She Moaned My Name
The moans weren’t fake. Not this time. Her hips bucked under mine as I pushed deeper, finding that rhythm that made her toes curl. Her hands gripped the sheets. She was close.
Dave whimpered. Actually whimpered.
“Fingers inside yourself,” Tara ordered him.
He obeyed. Like a good little sissy.
It didn’t take long before she turned to me, breathless, and said, “I want your cum inside me.”
She didn’t look at Dave.
She didn’t need to.
I didn’t ask for his permission. I just grabbed her hips and slammed into her with everything I had. Her body shook. Her moans hit a pitch that could make the neighbors blush.
And then I came—deep inside her—filling her like a man claiming what was his.
A real cream pie, sticky and messy, already dripping down between her thighs.
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“A Good Cuckold Cleans What They Can’t Have”
Tara held up a finger. “Wait.”
She grabbed the bottle of GoodHead Wild Cherry Gel from the nightstand and handed it to me. “Make it sweet for him,” she said.
He crawled forward. His face flushed. His hands trembling.
I squirted the gel onto my cock—still wet from his wife—and looked up at me.
“Open your mouth,” I said.
He did.
He sucked.
Slow, like he knew it was punishment. Like it was penance.
The mix of lube, man’s cum, and shame on his lips would stay with him for days.
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She Didn’t Kiss Him After
Tara pulled me into the sheets beside her, wrapping herself around me like I belonged there.
Dave was still on the floor, panting, mouth open, lips coated, cock untouched.
“You did good,” she said lazily, brushing her fingers through my hair. “Not you,” she added without looking at him. “Him.”
She tossed him the CleanScene Toy Cleaner from their drawer. “Wipe everything down.” We had picked it up from the local sex shop last week.
He scrambled to clean the lube bottle, the sheets, even her thighs—licking her slowly before wiping the rest.
I watched him the entire time.
We Were Just Getting Started
Months earlier, a significant event had set the stage for the dynamics between us—one that awakened his deepest cuckold desires.
That night didn’t end with one round. She wanted more. He stayed on the floor the entire time—sometimes filming, sometimes cleaning, always watching.
She asked me if I’d stay the night.
I nodded, breathless, still coming down. She laughed and tossed me a wipe from the stash we’d ordered from jackandjilladult.com—conveniently placed beside the bed. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said.
I said yes.