In the beginning…

I have had several requests for me to dive into the stories about how our cuckold lifestyle got started. It has taken me a few days to really reflect on my/our past to decide exactly how I would present this. I finally came to the conclusion that the only appropriate way to present it was in its rawest and truest form.

Ready or not, here it comes…

I (for lack of a less clichéd phrase) blossomed at a very young age. Girls who look like women also seem to develop their sexuality on a different level than other girls their age. Because of my hyper-developed body and sexuality developing right behind it, I always got a lot of attention. I tried very hard to maintain my strong Baptist upbringing, but masturbation seemed to be my only secret outlet. I masturbated often and at a young age. Soon my seemingly insatiable appetite for self-sexual-gratification grew curiouser, and curiouser. My virginity had to go! I lost it at age 14 and, depending on which perspective you take, it was all downhill (or uphill) from there.

A devout Baptist southern girl must maintain appearances and a loose-girl reputation would surely tarnish that appearance. I knew I was sleeping around, but I just didn’t talk about it. No harm no foul, right? I remember, distinctly, asking my bestfriend in high school if she thought I was a slut. She carefully responded, “You aren’t exactly a slut, but I think you are a little easy.”

Society deems any girl or woman who deeply loves sex as a slut. Society has also added the negative connotations to the word “slut”. I wanted to experience as much as I could sexually as often as I could. Being called “easy” didn’t seem to deter me. I moved on to my first threesome and polyamorous relationship in just the 10th grade. By the 11th grade I decided that I didn’t want to be with any *one* boy and refused any and all propositions of exclusive dating. I was the only teenage girl I knew that carried her own box of condoms.

Years passed and I was still an active “closet slut”, but I felt sure that something was really missing. I was blatantly submissive. Being submissive felt hollow and meaningless. It never felt fulfilling. Something was surely missing and my aching craving for fulfillment grew exponentially.

I learned to hide these pursuits from any man I was seeing. Men tend to frown on the thought of the woman that they were fucking was off fucking around any time they were not sexually available. Cavemen… Then I met hubby (he was obviously not referred to then as “hubby”, but for the benefit of a more streamlined story, he will from here on out be known as “hubby” regardless of the referenced time period)…

I am not going to get into all the goo-goo ga-gas of it all. There was definitely a spark between hubby and me. We were ravenous for each other, but we mutually decided that because we both acknowledged this spark we would wait to sleep together. This plan felt emotionally satisfying but physically disappointing. I would spend “quality” emotional time with hubby and once I left his house or he dropped me off at my house, I was out on the prowl or on the phone calling over a booty call. I suppose I was cuckolding hubby before I even knew about cuckoldry.

Slowly hubby began to drop clues that I mentally took note of, but hadn’t added them up to anything. One of the most notable clues that he dropped was also a blatant clue… maybe a last ditch effort to pull me in… was when hubby asked me if I knew the definition of “cuckold”. This makes me laugh even to this day when I think of it. Hubby actually wanted me to take out a dictionary and look up the word.

I had never heard of this word… this ideology… this lifestyle before. It all seemed surreal. It seemed unlikely. It seemed just way too good to be true! Was it possible that I could be with the man that I had fallen for AND still get as much cock as I did before? Was this what it was meant by the phrase “have your cake and eat it too”?

Hubby baby-stepped me into everything. I think he approached it all properly that way because I couldn’t shake this paranoid feeling that he was setting me up. First, hubby explained that I was such an amazing sexual woman that he couldn’t bear to keep me all to himself. He felt that he had to share me. So I continued sleeping with all my old booty calls.

Then he explained how hot it would be if he was able to watch me fuck someone else. Hubby and I will never forget the first time he watched me fuck. We still laugh about it to this day. The lucky “Bull” didn’t last but maybe 5 minutes. It all turned out to be more awkward than hot, but everyone has to start somewhere.

Hubby even expressed his desire to be chastised and how desperately he wanted to be fed a cream pie.

I think that the first cream pie was the hardest thing for him. As much as he fantasized about tasting another man’s cum straight out of me, it still repulsed him to an extent. Practice makes perfect… I think what finally pulled him through his reservations was when he was enjoying his sloppy seconds (my favorite) and he pulled out his dick and realized it was covered with another man’s cum (also my favorite). Cream pies seem to come easier for him after that.

I am sure I do not have to explain how at some point through all of this I found a dominant seed inside me. Cuckoldry made this dominance grow and grow. The unsure, submission that was in me before is no where to be found now.

We have taken some hard knocks in and around our cuckoldry, but we never doubted it. Nothing has ever fit as well as cuckoldry and my hubby.