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
April 27
We snuggled up in bed tonight. Did I mention how close we are right now? Jessy asked me if I was ready for the next step, pulled out her phone, and we created a Tinder account for her together. It was a strange feeling, like I was loading the gun aimed at my heart myself. It wasn’t long before the matches were flying at us. But one stood out: an engineer in his late forties, attractive, slightly graying and blunt in his manner.
I remember Jessy’s exact words when she read what he wrote: “He’s asking what I’m wearing.” Her look was challenging, a game she seemed to enjoy. “I’m only wearing a negligee,” she replied, and his smiley face was clear.
I sat next to her the whole time, my heart beating up to my neck. I felt her groping for my penis cage, the big black one I was wearing today. Her fingers felt the shape of my arousal, trapped as I was in this game of jealousy and desire.
When she wrote to him that she was a frustrated wife whose husband was more married to his job than to her, the engineer jumped on it as if it were a crime to neglect a woman like Jessy. “I would carry you on my hands,” he wrote.
But Jessy skipped over the romantic phrases as if they were nothing. “What would you like to do with me now?” she typed boldly and looked at me. “What does that do to you?” she asked quietly. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. I wanted more.
The engineer described to my wife at length that he wanted to explore her with his lips, whereupon Jessy used her cell phone to take a photo of her erect nipple, pinched between her index finger and thumb. “Show me what you’ve got,” she demanded and a few seconds later the strange man sent her a photo of his bulging cock.
“Martin,” Jessy said to me, turning the cell phone towards me, “another man sent me a picture of his cock here.” She looked appreciatively at the screen. “Nicely photographed. Definitely bigger than your little cock at the moment.” She grinned cheekily.
“What does that do to you?”
I swallowed dryly.
“I like it,” I said hoarsely.
“What?”
“I like the fact that another man desires you.”
“And do you want me to send him a photo of my pussy?”
I gasped softly. “Yes.”
“What ‘yes’?”
“Yes, I want you to send a photo of your pussy to a strange man. I want him to see what only I was allowed to see before.”
Jessy smiled and kissed me.
“I want you to take the photo,” she said and threw back the covers. She handed me her cell phone and I knelt down in front of the bed. Jessy pulled her negligee up to her breasts and leaned back. Then she spread her legs and gave me an intimate look into her lap. “Put your hands on your labia,” I said, simultaneously agonized and aroused, “and pull them apart a little.”
Jessy did and so I took a picture of her pussy for a stranger. When I handed her the cell phone, she beamed and put it aside without paying any further attention to it. She pulled me to her, kissed and stroked me.
Her fingers, gentle yet firm, stroked me through the cage. I could feel them gliding over my skin, teasing me and reminding me of my limits at the same time.
“Martin,” she whispers, “do you feel how I hold you? How I control you?” Her finger moves on, over my testicles to my anus, and I moan out loud, I’m so sensitive there. Her touch was gentle but demanding.
She continued to speak as she stroked me and gently increased the pressure. Her words were poison and nectar for my soul.
“I’ve been thinking about it, Martin… what it would be like if I wore the strap-on dildo. To feel that power. To thrust you, to feel you giving yourself to me.” Her hand paused and I could feel the pressure of her finger tenderly circling my rosette and then penetrating me with unmistakable force.
I gasped loudly and spread my legs, giving myself to her. I wanted to feel her there and Jessy knew it. She penetrated me up to the second finger and massaged my prostate. An incredible feeling, impossible to put into words, took hold of me.
Part of me cried out, wanted to protest, wanted the control back that I exercise so naturally in the office. But another part, a darker, not-so-hidden part of me longed to surrender to her, to lose myself completely in the reversal of power. “Jessy,” I gasped, and my voice was a whisper of desperation and desire, “please fuck me!”
She laughs softly, and it’s a laugh that sends shivers down my spine. “Oh, Martin,” she says, and there’s a sigh of contentment in her voice, “I love seeing you like this, so open, so vulnerable.” Her hand pulls back, and I feel an emptiness, a longing for more, for what she implied. “And I’m going to fuck you. And more than that. Much more.”
April 29
“I invited Doro today,” Jessy greeted me when I came out of the office today.
“Oh dear, hopefully not another present,” I joked. Jessy grinned. “I don’t think so. But in her honor, I want you to wear the little pink cage today.”
I swallowed, ashamed and excited at the same time.
“Exactly.” Jessy smiled smugly. “Be a little pussy for us.”
When Doro stood outside the door at around 8pm, I felt my heartbeat quicken. The sight of her was breathtaking – she was wearing a dark red, velvety dress that seemed to whisper with every step she took. The way she looked at me imbued me with a mixture of fear and inexplicable excitement. She smiled, but gave no hint that she knew my little secret.
The dinner began innocuously, almost boringly. We talked about jobs and vacation destinations. Trivial things. But when Doro asked, in a voice that sounded like velvet and sulphur at the same time: “Martin, have you worn my present yet? How do you like it?”, I felt like I was dancing on thin ice. My face burned with shame as I stammered and admitted that I was wearing it at that moment.
Doro, with a smile that knew so much, sighed theatrically. “Too bad, if we spontaneously get into bed together tonight, there won’t be any real men around.” And Jessy interjected with a giggle: “An all-female round.”
I sat there, my insides a battlefield of humiliation and strange excitement, as Doro continued. “But maybe we should see this as an opportunity? Then your husband… or maybe he’s not really a man anymore, can learn how to be satisfied as a woman.” Her look was that of a teacher giving a pupil a lesson he will never forget.
At that moment, I felt so exposed, so vulnerable. It was as if Doro and Jessy could see through my façade and see my every weakness. The air in the room seemed to vibrate, filled with a tension that was both tantalizing and terrifying. I was caught between the role of spectator and unwilling participant in this game.
My memories are a little hazy, as if they had become shrouded in the fog of the wine we had enjoyed together. Suddenly there were three of us in the bedroom and I was gently but firmly asked to undress and take a seat in an armchair. My hands were shaking as I removed the cool fabric of my shirt and got rid of my pants. Jessy looked at me with that look that was once full of desire for me, but was now laced with a spark of challenge.
Doro’s eyes swept over me with a mixture of pity and lust as she noticed the pink penis cage. She smiled when she saw the small labia that were now where my cock was supposed to be. “Oh, Martin,” she said with a smile as sharp as the roller bearings we made in our company.
I couldn’t help but obey, captivated by the power of their words. Jessy and Doro ignored me as if my presence and my state of helplessness were mere air. They touched, with a gentleness I knew from Jessy, but never so… open, so freely shared with another. Her hands were everywhere, exploring, demanding, caressing. I was spellbound, my heart racing as if I were the one being touched, but it was only the agony of longing that gripped me. Drop after drop trickled out of my little cage as I watched them powerlessly.
The box of our most intimate toys was opened as if it were the gates to another world. An arsenal of pleasure and playfulness that was supposed to keep our bedroom secrets was now spread out in front of Doro. She took the strap-on dildo in her hand and looked at it with a sparkle in her eyes. “Jessy,” she breathed, “let’s see how well you can handle it.” Jessy giggled unabashedly.
I sat there, naked, my body trembling with arousal. I was trapped in a web of desire, shame and the bittersweet pain of jealousy. The two women in front of me were lost in their own world of ecstasy.
The night wore on, and with every second that I watched Jessy and Doro drive each other to heights of pleasure that I could not offer them today, I felt more and more like a shadow of myself. A man who had once radiated strength and power, reduced to a silent witness to his own humiliation.
I saw Doro’s fingers penetrating deep into my wife’s womb. Watched Jessy’s tongue approaching her girlfriend’s pussy. I could see how they caressed, touched and caressed each other. Later, as I watched them silently for a long time, Jessy put on the strap-on dildo. She gave me a meaningful look and I could see deep into Doro’s most intimate parts as she stretched her bottom towards me on all fours on the bed. Heaven… how I would have loved to jump up. How I would have loved to lick her, to fuck her. But I knew too well that I would have orgasmed within a few moments. In my mind’s eye, I saw their disappointed faces when I meekly withdrew to my chair. No, it was better to be a silent spectator and enjoy how much pleasure and joy my wife was having.
She knelt behind Doro, grabbed her buttocks and gently penetrated her with the dildo. Her hands clawed into her girlfriend, her thrusts became bolder and firmer. I could see how much she was enjoying this position of power.
Two thoughts flashed through my mind at that moment: one evening she would take me like this. Her fingers would claw into my hips and she would insert the black strap-on dildo into me, first gently, then more demanding. And what’s more, I was sure that in the not too distant future another man would take Doro’s place. Someone else who would touch my wife, suck on her nipples and press his cock against her. And just like that evening, I would watch. Excited and humiliated. Tortured and lustful at the same time.
I could hardly wait.
Later, my wife beckoned me over. I carefully climbed onto the bed, kissed her skin and stroked her aroused nipples. At one point, with a smug grin, I was asked to try to penetrate Doro. Her clean-shaven pussy shone wetly in front of me as I knelt between her legs and pressed my cage between her labia. I could feel her pleasure, the heat and wetness. But of course I couldn’t really penetrate her – it was as if I was rubbing my artificial pussy on hers.
Deep in the night, after Doro had gone, my wife rescued me. We made love. Quietly, lovingly and passionately.
April 30
“Was that too much?” Jessy asked me today. “The humiliation? Just being allowed to watch?”
“No,” I said, and by now the confessions were getting easier. “No. Just thinking about it could make me come again.”
My wife smiled happily. “Yes, I liked it too. But… Martin?”
“Yes?”
“Honestly… I want more.”
“Me too.”
“I think Christian could be the right partner for a threesome with a man, don’t you think?”
The End
I hope you’ve enjoyed Diary of a Cuckold 1-4. What did you think? Do you want to see more like this? Leave a note in the comment below. A huge thank you to Emma for publishing my unedited work!
About the Author:
Jessica Thompson
Jessica is in her late 30s, a hotwife and married to a man who has accepted his role as a cuckold. Her novels and novellas have an autobiographical touch. Much of what she writes is based on her own experiences.
