The Cuckold Diary of a Dallas Hotwife - Part 1 (Patreon)

The first time I cuckolded my husband (he’s Andrew and I’m Lily) it didn’t go particularly well. It was a little over seven years ago. We were on vacation. He’d shared his cuckold fantasy a few years prior and we’d dabbled with dirty talk and toy play but I hadn’t come close to making it a reality.

Everything came together on a Caribbean vacation. We were at a Sandals resort and I met a guy in the hot tub. He explained that he and his wife were in an open marriage and that they came to Sandals every year to enjoy that. I honestly wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or just looking to cheat on his wife, but it didn’t really matter. This guy was hot, we were on vacation, and Andrew had always indicated that he was serious about his fantasy.

I won’t bore you with all the details. Instead, I’ll say that I cuckolded Andrew. I took the guy back to our hotel room and Andrew watched us have sex. It was good sex and it might have bordered on great sex if Andrew wasn’t trying to involve himself the whole time. He kept asking me to say these really specific things to him and trying to get in and kiss me. It seemed clear that he was feeling left out, but it wasn’t a threesome he’d fantasized about. It was being cuckolded. It was watching me fuck someone else, and yet when the moment came he couldn’t just let it happen.

Afterwards it was worse. It ruined the vacation, honestly. Andrew was overcome with jealousy. He kept asking me about the other guy and not in that fun, sexy kind of way where it was used to inspire sex between us or to work into fantasy play. It was pure, annoying jealousy and I ran out of patience quickly.

Andrew apologized profusely after we got home. He said he’d lost his mind a little watching me enjoy sex with someone else and that he’d be better next time. I told him there wasn’t going to be a next time, and I meant it. Andrew’s need to control every little aspect of his fantasy meant it wasn’t any fun for me. It meant that it had to stay in his head, and there’s where it remained for the past seven years.

That brings us to the present day and the reason I’m writing this little diary. Andrew and I live what many would see as the ideal suburban life. We’re ensconced in an affluent Dallas suburb where every lawn is manicured and every house looks absolutely perfect. We both have good jobs and we have a daughter, a son, and a cute little dog. We go on family vacations every year. We have barbecues and pool parties with our neighbors. It all seems ideal, and in many ways, it is.

The problem is I’m terribly bored. There’s a rigidity to suburban life that I don’t like. I hate the phony smiles that my neighbors paste on when we chat while walking the dog. I hate that everyone seems so competitive, but in that quiet kind of way where you’re not supposed to admit that you’re competitive and that you want to be the one in the neighborhood that makes the most money or has the biggest house or does the shiniest remodel.

I’m bored of the routine, too. I’m bored with the notion that each weekend is carefully planned before it arrives. I’m bored with watching the same terrible TV and the same family-friendly movies.

Most distressing of all is that our sex life has gotten stale. In fact, stale might not be an apt word. Bad might be better, if I’m being honest. It’s just bad. We have a weekly sex appointment on Saturday night and that’s pretty much it. Every once in a while once of us will be struck by desire and we’ll deviate from that plan, but it doesn’t happen all that often.

It’s okay if you’re thinking that having a weekly appointment for sex is pretty depressing. I agree with you. The magic is gone. The sex isn’t even that good. I kind of understand scheduling it – life gets pretty busy and it can be easy to forget about having sex – but damn if I don’t find the whole endeavor disheartening.

I’m not looking for a way out. The truth is, this is the kind of thing every couple goes through (or most couples, at least). When life settles into a routine, it can get boring. When a sex life settles into a routine it gets really, really boring. I love Andrew, though. He’s a great husband and father. He works hard. He’s smart. We want the same things out of life (for the most part, at least).

I also know that Andrew still fantasizes about cuckolding. Every once in a while he forgets to use a private browser and I see the sites he visits. I don’t mind that he masturbates. I masturbate too. Why not, right?

I’ve decided that cuckolding is solution to the crushing boredom that has overwhelmed our sex life. I’m okay with you thinking I’m insane. You might be right. After all, it didn’t go so well the first time, did it?

I have a plan this time. I’ve already put that plan in motion, in fact. I’ve decided that Andrew just needs to be brought along slowly. He needs to have the right mindset before I can cuckold him again and I’m confident I can help get him into that mindset. In other words, I’m going to train him.

Yeah, I know that sounds a little gross. I don’t care. I’m not willing to let my sex life die on the vine. I’m not willing to let my marriage fall apart and I know that when a sex life dies it’s often not long after that the marriage dies with it.

I started things last weekend. I figured I’d go with a direct approach, so I decided to make a change to our Saturday night sex date.

I was dressed in something sexier than usual. Andrew absolutely loves satin lingerie so I bought a high end slip with lace trim. My nipples were hard and poking through the material and I saw his eyes go right to my breasts as he stepped into the room.

I pulled back the covers to invite Andrew into the bed and said, “Take your clothes off.”

He stripped with a giddy smile on his face – men always love it when a woman seems interested in offering them sexual pleasure – and climbed into bed with me. He tried to crawl on top and get right down to business but I placed a hand on his chest and pushed back until Andrew sat against his pillow with a confused look.

The moment I wrapped my fingers around his cock – which was half hard at that point – the confusion washed away and was replaced by a look of pleasure. Men are so easy sometimes.

I kissed his neck and moaned in that way that men love. “Your cock is so hard,” I whispered.

Andrew moaned and turned so we could share a deep kiss. I sucked on his tongue – he absolutely loves that – and his cock pulsed in my hand.

“Andrew, darling, do you still fantasize about being a cuckold?” I asked.

I kissed his neck and nibbled on his ear lobe and he offered a moan, though he didn’t offer an answer. He was probably thinking about the last time I’d cuckolded him, how poorly it had gone, and how annoyed I was afterwards, so I can understand why he wouldn’t want to answer.

“It’s okay,” I said as I rubbed my fingers over the tip of his cock. “I know the answer. I’ve seen your search history. You don’t always remember to use a private browser, my dear.”

I don’t know what was going on in his head at that moment, but I assumed that Andrew wasn’t panicking. I assumed he figured – correctly, as it turns out – that I was okay with his continued fantasy. After all, I was dressed in lingerie and stroking his cock, so it would be strange to think I was mad at him.

“Do you ever think about the time I cuckolded you?” I asked. “Do you ever fantasize about it?”

I knew the answer. I’d seen Andrew’s searches for ‘vacation cuckolding’ and ‘hotel cuckolding.’

“Yes,” he answered.

“Does that mean it still turns you on to think of your wife fucking someone else?” I asked.

Andrew nodded and I leaned in closer and sucked on his neck. I flicked my tongue over his flesh and stroked his cock swiftly, using his precum as lube. I felt him getting closer to an orgasm, which is right where I wanted him.

“Does it turn you on to imagine me cumming on someone else’s cock like I did that night on vacation?” I asked.

“Yes,” Andrew said between moans. “Fuck, Lily, yes, it turns me on. It does.”

“Does that mean you want me to cuckold you, Andrew? Do you want your wife to fuck another man? Do you want me to take another man’s big, beautiful cock in my pussy and cum all over it while you watch?” I asked.

He groaned and I released his cock. Andrew turned to me with pleading eyes, but I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Not until I got what I wanted.

“Yes,” he said. “I do fantasize about that, Lily. I fantasize about cuckolding all the time. I know it’s weird and I know you’re not interested, but I still fantasize about it.”

“What if I said I was interested?” I asked.

Andrew’s eyes went wide as he studied my face, probably for some sort of sign that I was just fucking with him. “Are you serious?” he asked.

“I am,” I said. “But it won’t be like last time. I won’t do it on a whim and I definitely won’t do it until you prove that you’re ready for it. I know it’s your fantasy, but you don’t get to control everything. If anything, I’m going to be the one in control. After all, it’s my pussy that someone else will be fucking.”

“I understand,” Andrew said.

“That’s wonderful, darling, but you’ll have to prove that you understand. I don’t really care about what you say. It’s what you do that matters.”

He looked just a little hurt, but Andrew managed to push it all down. Clearly he wanted his fantasy to become reality more than anything else.

“For now I want you to go down on me. There will be no sex for you this week. In fact, there will be no orgasms for you this week,” I said.

Andrew hesitated.

“That means no masturbating,” I said. “No orgasms means no orgasms. You’re welcome to cum if you don’t want me to cuckold you, but if you want your fantasy to become something real and long lasting, you’ll go without an orgasm this week. I’m not asking much, Andrew.”

Andrew moved between my legs and pulled my panties off. “I know,” he said. “Are you really serious about this? About cuckolding me, I mean?”

I smiled. He was ready. I had him on the hook. “I’ve been fantasizing about someone,” I said.

“Who?” Andrew asked with an excited look on his face. I love that excited look. It means that I have him where I want him.

“Someone from work. He likes to flirt with me. Lately I’ve been flirting back a little. Sometimes he pops into my head when I’m turned on,” I explained.

Thankfully, it was all true. I’m not going to fuck anyone I work with – that’s a bad career move, especially for a woman – but it seemed like a good way to have fun with Andrew.

“Would you like it if I fantasized about him while you go down on me?” I asked.

It looked like Andrew was genuinely considering my question, like he was taking a very small step into actual cuckolding and he wanted to make sure he was ready for it. “Yes, I’d like that,” he said after a few moments.

“And you won’t cum this week? You’ll be good for me?” I asked.

“I will,” Andrew said.

“Good. Get to work, then. Make me cum with that talented tongue of yours,” I ordered.

Andrew went to work and I enjoyed my little fantasy. I went for it, too. I pictured the guy fucking me in his office. Why not, right? I pictured that kind of wild sex where you don’t care about anything other than the pure, unadulterated pursuit of pleasure. I pictured sitting on his deck with my skirt around my waist, my legs spread, and his cock buried inside me as we kissed feverishly. I pictured moaning from the fervent fucking. I pictured cumming hard on another man’s cock. I’ll be honest, I even pictured him cumming inside me. It was hotter than I expected.

After I’d cum Andrew looked up with a smile on his face and my juices on his lips. “That was lovely,” I said. “Thank you for the orgasm.”

“Was your fantasy good?” he asked.

“I came awfully hard,” I answered. “What do you think?” I’m pretty sure he wanted me to share what I’d fantasized about, but I had no intention of doing so. He hadn’t earned that yet. “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “If you’re good this week I’ll share my fantasy with you next weekend. How does that sound?”

“That sounds incredible,” he said.

“Good. Now come up here and let’s make out a little.”

We ended up doing a whole lot of kissing and touching and Andrew went down on me once more before we went to bed. He didn’t get to cum.

Hopefully Andrew won’t cum this week. Hopefully he’ll manage to be good and earn his reward. We’ll find out if he did in my next entry. I’ll see you next week :)