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My husband Jason isn’t the type to ask for what he really wants. Not directly, anyway. Communication has never been his strong suit. He’s always been sweet, devoted, emotionally intelligent—and just a little too shy to speak his deepest truths. But I see him. I see him more clearly than he knows.
The way his breathing changes when I flirt with other men in public. The hunger in his eyes when I wear something too revealing, just daring someone else to notice me. And most of all, the way he stammers and blushes when the subject of threesomes comes up—specifically ones where I’m the center of attention… and he’s just there.
Sex with Jason isn’t passionless but it is repetitive and dare I say mundane. He doesn’t go out on a limb or try anything new. He loves me an absolutely adores every inch of my body which I can’t get enough of but it is more of a passenger and I am more of the driver in the bedroom. That’s nice but sometimes it leaves me wanting more, wanting to be the passenger, shut my mind off and just be used by someone. I’ve expressed this to Jason and he makes an attempt but he doesn’t know what he is doing in that regard. He only lasts a few minutes and that doesn’t leave much time for exploration. He adores me. Reveres me, really. And I think that’s where the seed of his fantasy began. Somewhere between his admiration and his desire to surrender completely.
Over time, I started to connect the dots: he didn’t want a typical MFM threesome.
He wanted more for me and at same time he wanted to be less.
To be replaced, even temporarily. To watch me experience something with another man that he knew he simply couldn’t give me.
He wanted to be cuckolded.
But he never used the word. Not once.
So I decided to give him what he was too afraid to ask for—and I was going to do it my way.
It started with a suggestion from Jason one evening while we were curled up on the couch. I was in one of his shirts, nothing underneath. He’d been kissing my thighs, teasing me, worshiping me the way he always does when he’s needy. And I said, “What if we brought in another guy sometime?”
His voice was tentative. Hesitant. Like he didn’t know how I’d react. “I might be interested in that.” he stammered.
I just smiled and said, “Why don’t you make a post and see who responds?”
He blinked. “Really?”
I nodded. “You pick a few and I’ll make the final cut.”
That little glimmer of excitement lit up in his eyes—but he had no idea that by giving him control, I was already taking it away.
That night, after he drifted off next to me, I scrolled through the messages from the ad he posted.
A lot of the usual suspects. Dick pics, terrible spelling, half-hearted intros. But one caught my eye.
Grayson.
6’3”, ex-military, salt-and-pepper stubble that made him look like a refined savage. His profile was confident but not cocky. Articulate. Respectful.
And huge.
Not just tall or broad-shouldered—though he was both—but hung in a way that felt almost unreal. He’d included a picture and when I say it looked heavy, I mean it. Thick, veiny, perfectly sculpted. Like something carved out of marble but throbbing with life.
Compared to Jason, who was barely five-eight and had a slender, Grayson was a walking goddamn monument. Looking back at that cock pic, I didn’t know that a dick could look masculine but Grayson’s did. Looking over at Jason’s sleeping body and the outline of his penis in his pajamas, it looked almost feminine by comparison.
Jason was soft, kind, loving. Grayson looked strong, passionate, merciless.
So I replied.
But not just to confirm.
To confess.
“Hey Grayson, I’m Jason’s wife Alina. I’m going to be real with you—I want to turn this ‘threesome’ into something much more. Jason’s had cuckold fantasies for a long time, but he’s too shy to admit it. I want to surprise him. If you’re up for it, I want to let this play out exactly how I know he secretly craves it.”
Grayson didn’t even flinch.
“God that’s hot. I’m in. Tell me what you want me to do.”
And just like that, the game began.
The night of the encounter, I got ready with exquisite care and asked Jason to sit beside me to keep me company while I got ready. Black lace bra, heels, a short silky dress that left little to the imagination. I let Jason watch me do my makeup and slide into my outfit. His eyes lingered on the curve of my ass, and his cock started to tent his shorts. I smiled at him sweetly, kissed him, and whispered, “Tonight’s going to be amazing.”
He didn’t know how amazing.
Grayson arrived right on time—clean cut, dressed in a fitted black shirt and jeans that hugged his thighs like they’d been tailored for him. He walked in with calm dominance. Confident, but not loud. He knew the script.
Grayson reached out to shake Jason’s hand. Grayson’s grip was strong and confident. Jason’s grip was weak and timid. I watched the men meet with genuine interest, knowing that things would be going very different than Jason expected, laughing to myself.
“You look stunning,” he said, his eyes traveling up and down my body like I was dessert. I basked in it.
Jason blushed. “Yeah, she always looks good.”
“Mmm,” Grayson murmured, never taking his eyes off me. “You’re a lucky man.”
Jason nodded, smiling nervously, unaware that those words had layers.
I poured us all drinks. Small talk happened—but Grayson and I were in a different rhythm. He touched my hand when I laughed. He leaned close when I spoke. The sexual tension was thick.
Jason’s smile started to falter.
And then I kissed Grayson. Not a polite peck.
A slow, devouring, open-mouthed kiss while Jason sat there on the couch, blinking in shock.
That was the moment the energy changed.
I turned to Jason and gave him a sweet little smile. “Why don’t you just sit back and enjoy for a bit?”
He nodded numbly, and the rest unraveled like silk slipping from bare shoulders.
Grayson pulled me into his lap. I ground against the thick outline of his cock, moaning into his neck as his hands gripped my ass. I could feel the difference through our clothes. His cock felt like a third thigh—hot, demanding, its presence was indisputable.
Jason sat at the edge of the bed, eyes wide, cock now hard and sticking out like a sapling trying to get sunlight. It was visibly dwarfed by the tree trunk that Grayson was packing.
I made eye contact with my husband.
“You okay, baby?” I asked softly.
He nodded, his lips parting slightly. He looked wrecked already—and we hadn’t even gotten started.
I pulled off Grayson’s shirt and ran my fingers across his chest—solid muscle, scarred, tan. Jason’s body was lean and soft by comparison. Sweet. Familiar. But not like this.
Grayson unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock free.
Jason gasped audibly.
It was a monster.
I smiled. “You see that, baby? Now that’s a real cock.”
Jason’s breath hitched.
There it was—the crack in the wall. His arousal mixed with shame. His eyes darted between my face and Grayson’s cock, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real.
I tried to put Grayson in my mouth but only succeeded in kissing the tip. I had no idea how to suck a dick this big, I’ve always had a small jaw and I simply couldn’t open enough to fit this monster into my mouth. The truth was, I wanted him inside me. Now.
Then I mounted Grayson. No warmup. No delay. No condom.
He slid into me like I was made for him. I cried out and threw my head back as my pussy adjusted to the stretch.
Jason whimpered.
“Fucking hell,” I moaned. “He’s so… big. Jason, can you see how deep he is inside me?”
Jason nodded helplessly.
“Tell me, baby.”
“You… you look so full,” he whispered.
“Because I am,” I purred.
Grayson started to thrust, slow and deliberate. Each stroke made me tremble. I moaned shamelessly, louder and louder, while Jason sat there—completely forgotten.
That’s when it hit him.
This wasn’t a threesome.
This was his wife being taken by a better man.
This was cuckolding.
And he loved it.
I could see it on his face—the shift from confusion to embarrassment, then from embarrassment to reverence. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched me come undone on another man’s cock.
He was hard, leaking, aching—and completely untouched.
Grayson didn’t even look at him. He had no reason to.
Jason wasn’t competition.
He was a witness.
When I came, I screamed. My whole body shook. I’d never had an orgasm like that in my life. I clawed at Grayson’s back and bit his shoulder, barely able to breathe.
When Grayson finally came inside me, he grunted and held me down on his cock, filling me to the brim.
I turned to Jason, flushed and glowing.
“Come clean me up.”
Jason crawled to the edge of the bed, trembling. His lips kissed the inside of my thighs, reverent, obedient and broken. He licked my pussy clean, moaning into my folds as Grayson leaned back on the pillows, arms folded behind his head.
Grayson had conquered me.
Jason had been reduced.
And exalted.
The Afterglow
When it was over and Grayson left, Jason didn’t speak for a long time. He just held me. Tight. He cried, quietly. Not out of pain—but out of some strange mix of gratitude, surrender, and release.
“You did that for me?” he whispered.
I kissed his temple. “Yes, baby. You wanted it. You were just too afraid to say it. So I said it for you.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “So fucking much.”
“I know,” I said, stroking his hair. “And now, you’re mine in a whole new way.”
He nodded into my chest. “Thank you.”
And that was the moment I knew…
He wasn’t just my husband anymore.
He was my cuckold.
And he had never loved me more.
Emma’s Note: This story is a work of fantasy. All real-life cuckold or surprise scenarios must be rooted in open, honest communication and enthusiastic consent from all parties. Surprises in fantasy scenes should still be pre-negotiated with clear boundaries. Trust is the sexiest thing you can build together. The use of protection and safe sex should be negotiated prior to the experience. But again… this is Tora’s work of fantasy.
