Making and breaking of a cuckold - 1 Innocence lost
of
subfootstool
genre
domination
It all seemed so innocent at the time. My new wife of 6 months, Gemma, asked me if it would be alright if one of her friends from the gym came around for a drink tonight. I said sure, what’s her name? HIS name is Max, she replied. I was slightly taken aback but I said fine, no worries.
As background, my name is Peter and I am a partner in an accounting firm, 41 years old and successful financially, but short, pudgy and balding. My wife works as a PA at the firm, or did until she married me, is 30 years old, blonde and gorgeous in a cheerleader way. I guess when I think back, she clearly married me for my money. From a looks perspective, she is way out of my league.
Our courtship went well initially. But, after we began love-making, Gemma made it clear she was disappointed with the size of my 4 inch penis and my sexual performance. So I spent an inordinate amount of time servicing her orally until she had multiple climaxes and I thought that would be sufficient to satisfy her sexually. It was a miscalculation on my part.
After we were married, Gemma ceased work and spent the next few months finding a house which she felt was “suitable” for her. I paid a few mill for it. She had me purchase a new red Mercedes sports car and I had to say she looked spectacular driving it, hood down, designer sunglasses, and mane of blonde hair flowing behind her. I had given her everything she asked for and I expected her to be contented and grateful. That was a miscalculation too.
There was a knock on the door. Gemma hurried over and opened it, gave the young man standing there a big hug which seemed to go on for a bit too long, then ushered him into the house. He was introduced as Max and he was quite a sight. Viking descent, eight inches taller than me at 6 feet 4 inches, blond hair, tanned skin and a very muscular build. I enquired as to his occupation; gym instructor, of course.
“Would you like a beer Max?”
“Yes thanks Peter”.
I went to the bar and poured two wines and a beer and returned. Gemma and Max were sitting close together chatting animatedly and she had her hand on his thigh which I thought was unusual. They basically ignored me for the next 10 minutes apart from a few glances in my direction. It was a bit uncomfortable but I was dealing with it.
“Another beer Max?”
“Yes Peter, bring me another one”.
Hmm, no please. Bad manners, I decided. I returned with the beer and handed it to him.
Gemma spoke. “Be a darling and prepare some snacks Peter. We’re getting peckish”. I thought that should have been her job. After all, I was the one who worked long hours while all she did was stay home and go to the gym. But I did it.
I returned with the savouries and handed them around. There were no thank yous and they continued to chat and ignore me.
Max looked at me, “My beer’s empty. That’s a bit slack don’t you think? You’re not much of a host Peter”.
“Now look here Max ... ”. The words had barely left my mouth when he stood and smashed me across the face with the back of his hand. I was stunned then he slapped me hard with his open palm then backhanded me again.
Max was big and strong and the blows made me see stars and my ears ring. I was disorientated.
As background, my name is Peter and I am a partner in an accounting firm, 41 years old and successful financially, but short, pudgy and balding. My wife works as a PA at the firm, or did until she married me, is 30 years old, blonde and gorgeous in a cheerleader way. I guess when I think back, she clearly married me for my money. From a looks perspective, she is way out of my league.
Our courtship went well initially. But, after we began love-making, Gemma made it clear she was disappointed with the size of my 4 inch penis and my sexual performance. So I spent an inordinate amount of time servicing her orally until she had multiple climaxes and I thought that would be sufficient to satisfy her sexually. It was a miscalculation on my part.
After we were married, Gemma ceased work and spent the next few months finding a house which she felt was “suitable” for her. I paid a few mill for it. She had me purchase a new red Mercedes sports car and I had to say she looked spectacular driving it, hood down, designer sunglasses, and mane of blonde hair flowing behind her. I had given her everything she asked for and I expected her to be contented and grateful. That was a miscalculation too.
There was a knock on the door. Gemma hurried over and opened it, gave the young man standing there a big hug which seemed to go on for a bit too long, then ushered him into the house. He was introduced as Max and he was quite a sight. Viking descent, eight inches taller than me at 6 feet 4 inches, blond hair, tanned skin and a very muscular build. I enquired as to his occupation; gym instructor, of course.
“Would you like a beer Max?”
“Yes thanks Peter”.
I went to the bar and poured two wines and a beer and returned. Gemma and Max were sitting close together chatting animatedly and she had her hand on his thigh which I thought was unusual. They basically ignored me for the next 10 minutes apart from a few glances in my direction. It was a bit uncomfortable but I was dealing with it.
“Another beer Max?”
“Yes Peter, bring me another one”.
Hmm, no please. Bad manners, I decided. I returned with the beer and handed it to him.
Gemma spoke. “Be a darling and prepare some snacks Peter. We’re getting peckish”. I thought that should have been her job. After all, I was the one who worked long hours while all she did was stay home and go to the gym. But I did it.
I returned with the savouries and handed them around. There were no thank yous and they continued to chat and ignore me.
Max looked at me, “My beer’s empty. That’s a bit slack don’t you think? You’re not much of a host Peter”.
“Now look here Max ... ”. The words had barely left my mouth when he stood and smashed me across the face with the back of his hand. I was stunned then he slapped me hard with his open palm then backhanded me again.
Max was big and strong and the blows made me see stars and my ears ring. I was disorientated.
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