Hi, I’m Jessica — a wife, a hotwife, and someone who has fully embraced the beautiful journey of a female-led, cuckold relationship. I’m in my late 30s and happily married to Martin, a devoted, self-aware man who has come to not only love but thrive in his role as a cuckold.
I’m so incredibly thankful for Emma and the thoughtful, empowering blogs she writes. Honestly, many of her articles feel like she’s narrating chapters of my own life. It’s rare to find a space that gets it — the complexity, the love, the surrender, the power, the fire — and Emma captures it all.
I’ve poured my heart (and some of my wildest nights) into my writing. Diary of a Cuckold is deeply personal — it’s erotic, raw, emotional, and very much based on my real experiences with Martin. If you’ve ever wondered what this dynamic feels like from the inside — from my side — I think you’ll find a lot to connect with.
And I’m thrilled to offer my book, Diary of a Cuckold, to the readers here. If you enjoy what you read, I’d love if you would check out this title and more of my work.
Just getting started with this series? Check out Part 1
February 16
This morning, Jessy pushed me against the worktop in the kitchen and opened my pants. Without a word, she pulled down my pants and drink and knelt on the floor in front of me. Then she reached for my penis, which was so surprised I was slow to erect. Her fingers encircled the shaft, she gently pushed back my foreskin and looked at the glans. She slowly brought my penis to her mouth. Her lips opened sensually as she touched the tip with her tongue. She closed her eyes and let the glans circle in her mouth, exploring every vein and every furrow. The moist warmth of her mouth enveloped my cock as she lovingly caressed it. Jessy’s tongue glided over the shaft as if she wanted to capture every inch, every nuance. Her expression reflected pure lust as she took in the drop of pleasure.
I moaned softly and grabbed her hair. I had rarely enjoyed oral sex before.
“I want more,” Jessy breathed. “Much more.”
She slowly let my cock slip out of her mouth and a shiny thread of saliva connected her lips to the glans for a moment. She licked her lips sensually and took me deep inside her again.
I felt a pulling sensation in my abdomen, my penis pulsated but Jessy didn’t release me. She sucked on me intensely and didn’t let go even when I was gasping as I approached an orgasm. She clawed at my bottom, pulled me closer to her and I squirted my hot semen into her mouth.
Panting and with weak knees, I leaned against the worktop in the kitchen.
“If I have to taste your sperm,” Jessy said and stood up. She looked at me with a cool gaze. “It’s only fair if you have to.”
She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in for an intense kiss. I felt the warm, salty taste on her tongue and it took a lot of effort not to pull away. But Jessy didn’t give me a chance, slipping her cum-soaked tongue into my mouth and forcing me to taste my own juice.
Her dominance excited me so much that I could feel my blood flowing back into my penis. I would have loved to come again straight away.
“That was nice,” she said and released me from her grip.
February 19
Tonight, after an endless day of meetings and decisions at work, I came home to find Jessy waiting for me with dinner. As we ate, she suddenly started one of those reflective conversations that I love so much about her. Her gaze was so penetrating, as if she wanted to look into the depths of my soul.
“Martin, I want to know how you really feel,” she said in that soft voice that I had fallen in love with over fifteen years ago.
I hesitated, my insecurity eating away at me. “Jessy, the last few times have been… incredible,” I confessed, feeling my cheeks grow hot. “The one with the condom in the living room, the game of control, and then in the kitchen – it was… I can’t even describe it.”
She nodded, smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “You can say ‘stop’ at any time, Martin. You know that, don’t you? I love you and I don’t want you to do anything against your will.”
Her words were so full of love and care that they touched me deeply. There was that sense of security, that trust that I had longed for since I was a child. Here was someone who didn’t judge me but accepted me. Unconditionally.
“I don’t want to stop, Jessy,” I whispered, my stomach tingling. “I want more, I just… I just don’t know where the limit is.”
She took my hand, her fingers intertwined with mine. I longed to give myself completely to her, to lose myself in her presence. But where would that end? Where were my boundaries? Where were hers?
“I love you so much,” I said, my voice shaking. “I trust you with… everything. Lead me wherever you want, but please, don’t let me get lost.”
She pulled me into her arms and I felt all my insecurities dissolve for a moment in her embrace. “I won’t lose you. I won’t lose us. We’re on this journey together.”
February 27
When I came home today, Jessy was waiting for me with a look of childlike joy in her eyes. She was standing there with a small gift in purple paper, which she handed to me with a smile that shone brighter than the silk bow that adorned it.
“I have something for you,” she said with that mischievous undertone that always promises a game whose rules only she knows. “A cell phone?” I guessed. It was the right size.
“No. And you’re not allowed to open it yet.” She grinned mischievously.
While we were preparing dinner, a French dish whose name I can barely pronounce, I felt the tension building up inside me. The white wine we drank tasted excellent, but it couldn’t ease the tugging in my stomach. What was in the mysterious parcel? I was impatient and Jessy could clearly tell.
“It’s more for later,” she giggled as we ate, and I huffed indignantly. Later. That word sounded like sweet hope and bitter agony in my ears at the same time.
My mind was racing, playing out scenarios that I longed for and feared at the same time. Sex toys, yes, that would be nothing new. An anal plug? A vibrator? We had our experiments, our games. But every time I tried to guess what might be in the package, she just laughed and shook her head. “No, my dear, you’re wrong. You’ll see.”
Only when we went into the bedroom was I allowed to open it. I carefully pulled on the bow, but I was already impatiently tearing the paper to shreds. In a nondescript box lay something I had seen in photos when I was researching cuckolding: two rings made of black plastic next to a ring-shaped cage made of the same material. There was also a small lock with two keys.
I looked at my wife with wide eyes. She looked at me with those penetrating eyes that brooked no argument. “It hasn’t escaped my notice how often you satisfy yourself, Martin. In the shower… sometimes even next to me at night when you think I don’t notice. But that’s over now,” she said in a voice so cool that I felt a shiver. I could only look up at her silently as I held the rings and the cage in my hands.
“That’s exactly what you think it is,” she continued, and I… I could only nod. She reached for one of the rings and said, “Here, put it on. First the testicles come through, then your cock.” I wanted to protest, I wanted to say that this was going too far, but the words stuck in my throat.
She noticed my hesitation.
“You either want me to have this relationship or you don’t. If you do, then put this ring on now,” she said and a deep tingling sensation took hold of me. Part of me was aroused by the situation, even though it felt so wrong at the same time.
She watched me curiously while I followed her instructions. The ring probably also functioned as a tourniquet, because when I got an erection under her attentive gaze, it took a while for the blood to drain away again.
“Great,” she smiled and slid the penis cage over my cock. It was eight or ten centimetres long and clearly curved downwards. When flaccid, my penis would easily fit in there, but I probably wouldn’t be able to get an erection in it.
She pushed the cage onto the ring and slid the lock into the opening. Then she pulled out the key and put it on the bedside table.
It felt like I had locked my manhood away in this cage and when Jessy took the key with a finality, I felt an insane powerlessness. It excited me that from now on I didn’t even have control over my own cock. I felt the blood flowing into my cock and immediately a gentle pain: my half-erect penis pressed against the cage in vain.
The contrast between my job as managing director, boss of 83 employees on the one hand and helpless appendage of my wife, who couldn’t even touch her own penis, has never been as clear to me as it is now.
I am confused, excited and aroused.
For now, I’ll try to sleep, even though I don’t know how to deal with this strange feeling that’s enveloping me. It’s as if Jessy is constantly grabbing my cock and squeezing it. An incredible feeling of powerlessness.
