The Journal of a Cuckold Couple: A Husband and Wife's Descent Into A Cuckold Marriage

When Jess told me she wanted to cuckold me, it was like being hit by a freight train. Not because the idea was foreign—far from it—but because hearing her say it out loud was something I never expected.

We were lying in bed, as we often did, caught in the hazy intimacy of late-night confessions. She was stroking my cock, her hand slow and teasing, while telling me about a guy at work who’d been flirting with her. My pulse quickened. It always did when she talked like that—casual, tantalizing mentions of other men noticing her, desiring her.
But then she used the word. Cuckold.

“I want to cuckold you,” she said softly, her voice tinged with mischief, her hand never stopping its rhythm.
The word hit me like a bucket of cold water and molten lava all at once. Jess had never used language like that before. It was always implied, always wrapped in the safety net of fantasy. This was different.

It threw me off balance for a moment, my thoughts a jumbled mix of excitement and uncertainty. But Jess didn’t falter. She kept talking, her voice a siren’s call, pulling me back in. She described how she’d love to fuck another man—right in front of me. She painted the picture in vivid, filthy detail, and it wasn’t long before my body betrayed me. The heat of her words, the touch of her hand—I couldn’t hold back.

When I came, it was hard and fast, my release spilling over her fingers as she whispered those forbidden desires in my ear.

But afterward, as we lay there in the quiet aftermath, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Jess wasn’t just indulging my fantasies anymore. She wanted this.

I turned my head to look at her, at the woman I’d been married to for eight years, the mother of my two children. She was glowing, her lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes distant as though replaying some delicious memory in her mind.
She looked…different.

In the days that followed, I’d come to realize that night was a turning point—not just for Jess, but for both of us. A line had been crossed, and there was no going back.