She was a subject more than worthy of the photographer, and more importantly, a subject of mine.
Tinder was more ubiquitous in college than the textbooks themselves and more studied than any major. But if you weren’t paying attention, it was easy to make the same wonderful mistake I did, in not changing your age range.
A truly wonderful marriage between two lovely people was happening about 23 miles from my college campus; Tried, true: successful and adventurous. They spent years occasionally swinging, or hiring a third member for their bedroom, building a library of toys for their relationship, and on lavish vacations. And then suddenly, as if like a switch, the husband had finally admitted to himself that he was indeed a cuckold.
A few weeks of conversation elapsed before they finally indulged his taboo. A gentle experiment. A premium tinder account, and a college campus geo-targeted to ensure proper degrees of separation for them. But together they went.
Why they chose me, I still don’t know. I suppose my profile, my carefully curated pictures, perhaps 20 year old me was boyish in that perfect way still, I am still unsure. But once she sent the first message, their worlds in mine began spinning rapidly.
Our first venture was still perhaps my favorite, a group chat between myself, defiling the wife and posting erotic stories for her and bullying my way into their sex life, her, and my slut girlfriend, and the husband, demanded to be silent but enlisted to write all my words on her body and take every picture of her I wanted. There is something thoughtful about a random topless selfie, or a thinking of you shoot in lingerie, but he needed to be put in his place. The pictures of his wife needed to come from him. And besides, how was she going to write all those degrading words on herself. She asked to see my cock every day. When you have something to brag about, you enjoy taking the pictures. I never asked, nor did I care, about how he felt about dick dwarfing his.
It took months before we even decided to meet. We were fulfilled with our group chat for so long. But we needed to up the stakes. So we had him call me a taxi, if for no other reason then to humiliate him, and I spent the day with his wife. Lunch, a movie, grocery shopping for dinner, or my personal favorite, the liquor store. Being 20 and baby faced, I would get carded when I got on the same block of a liquor store. Though the two of felt we needed to indulge our taboo publicly some. So in we went to pick our wine for the evening, and off she sent me to the counter. Once the inevitable request came, I informed the cashier I was 20, and my wonderful girlfriend quickly came. She presented her ID and said I am sorry sweety with a kiss on the cheek. A seemingly unremarkable interaction for a cashier, assuming her my mother. I just wish I could have seen the cashiers face when I smacked slut’s ass as we walked out.
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I could get into the tales of the sex and humiliation I put him through, and I will eventually post about the roleplay where he gave me the money to pay for his “hooker” wife, but this has gone on long enough.
They were such kind people in one of the favorite chapters of my life, and I treated them both like the bitches they wanted to be. But I graduated a few years ago and our relationship, and his weekly allowance, both ended.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ckgxxh/mmf_my_adventures_with_a_pathetic_cuckold_husband