This is my second little piece on cuckoldress living. The first dealt with emotions as a woman, contemplating the lifestyle. This one is all about managing your husband, preparing him to be a willing cuck. The third will focus on dealing with external relationships, others’ reactions.
Where I left off was a planned meeting between Leon and my husband Neil, one where my interested and very sexy black beau told him that I was being recruited as his interior design consultant. I’d anticipated that Leon and Neil would meet separately, but my husband rang to say that there was this guy who had a proposition about me. Neil wanted me there. Minutes later Leon rang and said I should come along… and wear something very sexy! The man was so bold!
Before we continue that story though its worth describing I think what I wanted from this. I think that you have to decide similar things too if you find a man that you want to make your alpha. First off, I wanted Neil to accept that I saw as much of Leon as I wanted, when I wanted. Not such a big ask huh (LOL!). I used subterfuge, there was an interior design reason for it. But that seemed necessary to help my husband get over any jealousy. Remember, I have a lovely daughter and I didn’t want everything messed up. I didn’t know that I wanted to bin Neil (though that was always a theoretical possibility), but I did know that I wanted to keep several social, practical aspects of my life comfy and stable.
Neil isn’t a wildly jealous type, but when he saw Leon, I knew that he would feel less. Leon is so very attractive and so very sophisticated. Neil would recognise his superior. I promise you, men do. They measure the other guy, check themselves in the mirror and do the math. So it was necessary pro temp to help him over that alarm, that shame that he wasn’t probably so good for me any more, and to accept a new arrangement, one that still gave him a niche role.
The second thing I wanted was to try out with Leon whilst keeping Neil in fall back reserve. Calculating I know, but that is what bitches are. If you fancy the lifestyle, then calculating will feature a lot! I wanted to date with Leon and no, I wasn’t going to his bed, until I had started to change what I did with Neil too.
You’ll laugh, you’re laughing now right? That’s impossible you say. You’ll want his cock and then you’ll do crazy things to press things forward. Well I did want his cock and yes I faltered, petting became a casual and very noisy stand up fuck, but the truth was that I didn’t want to handle two men in my head, both in bed, doing the sex thing with me, in parallel. I wanted them to have different roles, to be different with them both. You might not fathom things in an instant but it probably comes down to this. You want to submit to your new man, to be in his thrall. That IS what it is about! But you want to manage your husband, to limit his expectations so that he doesn’t compete with that sweet little dream. I wanted an orderly transition, one man doing the fucking and the other playing some other supplementary role. Leon said that I should make Neil go down on me, make him a pussy licker. Straight off that seemed way too intimate. It felt like Neil was close to the secret of what Leon and I would do-fuck! But there is something in your head that pings. Making one man lick you, whilst another fucks you, reinforces the sexiest control centres of your female brain. For me (for you?) there came a moment when I wanted that!
The third thing I wanted, but I knew it dimly at first, was some clear way in which the men would relate to one another. If I didn’t live a lie, as a wife, as a mother, as a lover, then the men had to relate to each other too. I knew that Leon had handled this before, there had been a married woman and a husband who had capitulated to the arrangement. Apparently Leon could be very good, male to male, helping the beaten male accept things. But I didn’t know how he did that. I just realised that I wanted Leon to be the boss. I didn’t want the men to be equals, buddies, mates, as that meant that I was somehow their mutual toy, their shared distraction. That wasn’t a good thing for a female ego. I suggest that you think about that. Chummy sex isn’t sexy sex. To go with both men, for it to be ‘fun’ a ‘pastime’ made it seem like chewing gum, and we all know what that looks like when its left on the pavement afterwards.
That’s a very hard thing to accept. It has implications. If you didn’t want chummy sex, then there had to be discipline and the alpha would have to enforce that. Leon was so much better than Neil, so superior, that I wanted my husband to submit to him. I wanted him to take direction from my lover. That is very sexy and I realised it reading quickly about cuckold relationships. It makes you feel a bitch and being a bitch, well, it involves accepting that the disciplining could in theory be physical if the husband doesn’t train so well. IF Leon had to hit Neil, then I would watch until it was done with and then quietly get on with confirming the new hierarchy.
When Leon met Neil and I back at the Boathouse, I wore leather jeans and a pair of stiletto heels. I wore a flamboyant white blouse and bolero leather jacket. It told Neil that it was ‘interior designer outfit’ but really, honestly, I dressed like a bitch. It made Neil in his leather elbow patch jacket and cords look shabby. It showed Leon how superior I was to my husband. The meeting terrified me. I was excited and petrified by turn! But Leon was Mr Amiable, asked about Neil’s teaching at college, said how much he had enjoyed his political studies at the London School of Economics and didn’t unduly dwell on how swiftly that seemed to deflate my husband who teaches at an also ran university.
Leon didn’t suggest the design work between he and I, he told Neil how this was going to happen. I watched transfixed as my husband accepted things. It was a venture thing, my time and nous, no capital input. But that meant a lot of my time and may be in the future, giving up nursing if the pay offs seemed worth it. Neil looked like a rabbit in headlights. He was mesmerised by the assured account, the pictures of fabulous designer houses that Leon was working on.
‘You’ll probably need to take a bigger share looking after your daughter man, OK?’ Leon checked.
It was an audacious requirement. Leon hadn’t warned me. He wanted me. He wanted a lot of me. If you are a bitch, then you and he, your MAN come first.
‘I can ask Margaret [remember, his mum!] to help. She adores Ellie’ said Neil. A thrill went through me.
‘Good’ smiled Leon, then to me, ‘what night you free this week Chloe, I have some clients to show a house to. I’d like you along to talk interiors.’
I told him Friday night and glanced at Neil who wasn’t resisting. Leon was setting up a date in front of my husband.
‘Fine,’ he said, ‘I’ll book that with them. Dress like now, its very stylish, very confident OK?’
I nodded, dumbly I nodded.
That was the first transition. Leon had won. He had won easily and it made me tingle. I started to see him regularly and there were little rewards, first successes associated with ‘grateful clients’. One was very very extravagant, a Cartier Americaine watch. It must have cost ten thousand pounds. I remember that Neil stared, but I dismissed it easily. ‘People had money’ and, ‘they liked the advice I gave.’ Dating became kissing, kissing became petting, and petting became fucking. Leon taught me how to fuck, properly, so that my heart raced so hard that I thought it might explode. He taught me how to show attitude in public and to behave like his slut in bed. I was always to pull open my pussy lips and let him see the peachy moist interior before he pushed inside of me and made me gasp beneath him.
If that transition was seamless, then the one at home was a bit more staccato. You need to know about that to understand how it works. I think that its usually a series of coded and incremental conversations. Neil said to me one evening, ‘Ellie’s noticed how happy but busy you are!’. It was a gambit opening. May be I was meant to feel guilty? Well, I didn’t: period. I needed to be with Leon. THAT had changed. But I knew too that I was being good with and for Ellie. I’d changed my contract to part time. She wasn’t loosing out. I admitted that I was happy, very happy and that I appreciated the mix of things that Neil as well as new work permitted.
Neil is a nice man, a gentle, amiable man. That was what made him endearing and unexciting. I know, you know, the familiar, the new, the need to change and move on. The need to be better, to stop pretending that you are satisfied with slippers all the while.
‘It’s necessary to socialise with Leon, to do the schmoozing thing’ Neil said.
‘Yes’ I agreed. This could have been a resistance. Neil knew that we already socialised, with clients as it were. I dressed for dinner and travelled around with Leon. He even picked me up in his Porsche. Deep down, I guessed, Neil knew just how out classed he was by the other man.
‘I admire the way that you dress, you have a new poise, a new confidence that isn’t to do with clinical stuff’ Neil ventured.
Gently, a little awkwardly, Neil was submitting to Leon. I had to be gracious, polite, discreet in the coding of that. It’s a transition that you, as a woman, MUST understand. The loser has to be helped down.
‘I dress to express myself’ I told him firmly, ‘I like who I am, and I know how good I am.’
Neil nodded. The real message, something only talked openly about later, was that I was too good for him. I was ascending, he was standing still. Neil wasn’t changing. If my husband wasn’t admitting it openly he was falling away, to me as well as Leon. He was becoming less, a support rather than a partner in the usual marriage sense.
‘You dress like what you are’ I said, risking it.
‘An academic’ he laughed.
‘An eccentric’ I said and his face didn’t flinch, ‘a bookish type, nice, dry, dependable, less exciting but very reassuring.’ I smiled and touched his hand.
‘You don’t mind’ he asked.
I smiled again. ‘I’m a snob. If we’re out I’ll make you smarten up. Not Leon smart, but better than you usually are, OK?’
Neil nodded. I’d just humiliated him. I enjoyed it. He accepted it.
That night, we went to bed and instead of letting him fuck me I pushed his head down between my legs. I didn’t explain, I didn’t suggest new roles or games, he just licked me. He licked greedily as if a relief was searing through his soul and I climaxed, using his mouth, thinking, fantasising about Leon.
That was what sex slowly became. I said how much I loved Neil ‘licking me out’. If I dressed sexily he started to need to lick me out. He said that I seemed so ‘posh’. I suppose that we both knew why I looked posh. I was going with Leon, someone better than him. I was, felt, looked, and acted too good for him. I would masturbate him, so his spunk splashed all over his slightly tubby belly, making him groan. red finger nails, the Cartier watch, my gaze judging him silently.
‘Sorry’ he moaned one night as I worked his cock for him.
I felt disdain for him. I felt a thrill of arrogance, using him, wasting his spunk over his hairy belly that way.
‘You’re weak’ I whispered, ‘so weak. I don’t want your cock, only your tongue inside me…. understood?’
He ejaculated hard, the semen shooting up into the air and splashing down in splurges on his soft belly. I worked his cock really hard, milking out the rest. Then I ran my fingers through his warm product and presented them for him to lick.
‘You have to lick them’ I told him and he did.
That was when Neil became not just less, but little. I hadn’t said that I was sleeping with Leon but he clearly assumed that the chemistry was happening, that it was inevitable. I became more the mistress in our home. I directed everything to do with Ellie, rose in authority over Margaret his mother, who came around doting to help out. She mumbled at times, but Neil insisted how helpful she was. She placated her so that I could increasingly become a flamboyant, rather opinionated, mistress.
Margaret guessed and she spoke to me. She suggested that Leon was obviously something more. She waited for my response. I let the silence sit a moment. I told her that marriages came in different forms, I would never leave Neil or Ellie, but I would be the new Chloe. She had to accept that as much as Neil did. Code, discreetly, we talked in code.
Once I had denied Neil cock, the sex with Leon became crazy! It was, simply, indescribably, the best sex ever. If you want it cold, textbook, it is two alphas fucking when control is being established over a beta. That means nothing. It says nothing. It cannot describe the orgasms that Leon gave me. I would knot on him, writhing, head thrown back, my teeth clenched, digging my nails furiously into his muscular shoulders as he emptied his cock into me. His ability in bed exercised me, it extended and exhausted me. But there is another thing, honestly to tell. The very fact that I was pushing Neil down whilst rising myself up with Leon, drove me crazy too. I felt ultra bitch, ultra horny, ultra confident. It was and remains a huge confidence boost. It makes you look, feel completely different. When someone says, ‘ she’s getting it’, that doesn’t begin to describe it. You are not only ‘getting it’ but you are ‘denying it’ to another male too. It makes you female potent in a way you cannot adequately imagine, honest.
Two related transitions remained, felt, explored ones. Neil needed to accept that Leon was my lover and he needed to accept our disposal on the matter. The need to discuss those matters was more urgent than I would have chosen. Whilst Leon was ready to meet Neil again and accept his surrender, I knew that I had to dictate my terms first. I was at the centre of the menage a trois, I was where the two men pivoted. Margaret was getting a little aggitated. I thought she feared that I might walk away from Neil and even Ellie. THAT was impossible, but Margaret didn’t know that.
There came an evening, a desperately anxious evening, when returning from a day long date with Leon I didn’t shower as normal. We’d spent the day in Ludlow, dined at a fabulous restaurant for lunch and then fucked all afternoon. I was wearing a tiny tiny raa raa pleated skirt and it was summer. I smelled of Leon, I know that I did. Being a cuckoldress involves all of the senses. Neil kissed me. He inhaled the scent of sex.
Neil asked to ‘lick me out’ and this time I knew from his eyes what he was signalling. He wanted to talk about Leon and what he and I shared. He wanted to accept things. I remember looking into his eyes and realising that he was begging me for head.
‘I’m messy’ I told him. Christ, I thought, he might hit me now. Then there would be all hell to play. Leon would give him a good hiding.
‘That’s OK’ he insisted, ‘honest, it’s OK’ he repeated. I let him slide down in front of me, onto his knees and push up the hem of my skirt. I wore a tiny thong that day and it was wet and gloopy with the product of our love making. Tiny white material with beads of thick, rich semen attached. For a second, a long second, a stretched second in my mind, Neil stared at my sex. It was as if he he saw it properly for the first time. He saw how I trimmed my bush, how my labia had become swollen from love making.
He licked me.
I tingled inside, from the tips of my tongues to the scalp on my head. I remember gasping.
‘Don’t be disgusted with yourself for allowing this… don’t be ashamed, I accept it….. Leon….. your man’ he blurted and licked again.
I hadn’t imagined feeling disgusted with myself. I felt elated, relieved, surprised, a host of emotions, but not disgust with myself! I should have been disgusted with him, for capitulating this intimate way….. but I wasn’t. I had… I had accepted that he was weak and Leon was strong, and that this is what a weak man did if he begged to stay on.
‘Good’ I said, I remember the exact words as I stroked his hair, ‘lick nicely though…. I’m sore from Leon.’
That was the most joyous sex too. That was amazing sex. Don’t think that in becoming a cuckoldress you abandon sex with your husband. You don’t! You merely reassign its nature. You make his sex with you supplicant sex. It has a sweet sweet, intimate and dominant value. I remember that we flooded the room with words, with thoughts, with requirements. There was the sound of sucking, kissing, Neil’s mouth on my body, worshipping me.
‘If you ask Leon nicely…. to stay, he will let you’ I moaned.
‘Thank you’ Neil’s voice mumbled, his mouth pressed against my messed up bush.
‘But he does the fucking, you have to tell him….. tell him… that you will lick me clean afterwards.’
I think I was delirious, my voice caught as I spoke. I remember looking up at he ceiling, Neil’s head wedged between my legs, licking, licking until the shivers in my thighs became spasms and I needed to clamp his face down there.
‘Anything…. please anything Chloe… don’t leave me’ he begged.
I felt wretched for a moment. But a moment.
‘You’ll live on his terms Neil, you’ll do as Leon says’ I groaned and pushed my sex against his mouth as if it were a beak.
‘Thank you’ he gulped, eating at my moist sex.
It was gone midnight when I finally rang Leon and told him that Neil had capitulated. He was ready to defer to Leon, to move his things from our bedroom and to discuss how to manage this discreetly, nicely, as regards Ellie. Neil would have to ask Leon to stay in the house, but of course that was a given. We both wanted that, to handle things properly so that Ellie’s upbringing wasn’t too disrupted. I said that I would talk to Margaret. Leon said, ‘you must feel exhausted, it is so stressful’. I love the man, to his bones. His imagination, and insight. His concern and power. ‘Yes’ I admitted. ‘I’ll speak to Neil, but I want you there to ensure that you’re happy with that decided. He has to know that you set the rules too’ said Leon. I almost cried. I was shaking. ‘He’ll be required to treat you as his mistress, his better…. you ready for that?’ Leon asked. Sex. Sex can be so big and play such a powerful role within a home. It can define manhood and otherness, whatever Neil was to come. I shook again at the realisation of that, that I was going to help dictate a different lifestyle.
‘Yes’ I answered.
‘Sure?’ wondered Leon, his voice like honey on a comb.
‘Yes’ I said firmly.
[Next time I want to talk about handling Margaret and other relationships. But if you’re interested, I can talk some more about the men, together, me in the middle, beyond that.]