Paradise for cuckolded husbands

I have a dream: I dream of being a real man, of making love with my wife, filling her tight little hole, giving her unparalleled pleasure. I wake from this dream, my penis slightly erect. I see a glimmer of hope and turn to look at my wife, Julia. This sexy beauty is 42 years old now. Patches of morning light filtering through the curtains illuminate her long, golden hair, creating a dreamy glow, making her incredibly alluring. I climb between her long, beautiful legs. I'm only 165cm tall, nowhere near her 175cm model figure, and we always feel awkward in bed. I greedily gaze at my wife's plump vulva, preparing to thrust inside. She wakes up too, rubs her sleepy eyes, and then looks at me blankly but with annoyance—the kind of look that says, "I'm lying here, let you fuck me, see what you can do to me." Seemingly in response to her mockery, my little penis struggled weakly at the entrance of her vagina for a few moments before shrinking to the size of a nail—in just a short while, it had shrunk from 5 inches to 1 inch! I helplessly rolled off her body, filled with frustration and humiliation.

"It's alright, Philip," she said, leaning closer and gently stroking the few sparse hairs on my forehead.

"How can it be alright! It's been almost a year, and I don't know how much this has hurt you. I've felt endless torment and pain!" "Don't be like that. It's not a big deal. Just think of it as not being your strong suit. Some people are good in bed, some are good at taking care of their families, and you, darling, are excellent in every way. It's alright." "But I'm just not good at this!"

"You are not good at this, I admit it, but don't say it like that." I was speechless. I knew what I wanted to say, but I just couldn't bring myself to say it. I had been thinking about those words for months, and after several weeks, I still couldn't muster the courage. This time, I finally forced myself to say those words.

"My dear, please don't be angry now, just listen to me, okay? You know I love you, and I want you to be happy." "Yes, I know, I know everything. What do you want to say?" "Okay..." I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat went dry.

"Honey, what exactly do you want to say?"

"Uh... have you... thought... about... about finding... finding a lover?" I stammered, struggling for a long time, finally managing to say these heavy words that had been buried deep in my heart for so long. Silence fell around us for a long, long time, and then I heard her reply.

"Of course... of course not! How could you say that!"

"Because if you want to, I... I'll understand, I won't stop you." My body trembled slightly, and then there was silence for a long time again.

"But what about Becky?"

I shrugged helplessly at her directness and honesty. It seems she's serious. Our daughter Becky just turned 16, and clearly, my wife sees our daughter as the first obstacle to her having an affair.

It's not about her fidelity to me, nor her wedding vows, but what if our daughter finds out?

"It's okay, just be careful she doesn't find out,"

she said, gently kissing my forehead.

"Thank you, honey, you're such a silly goose, so considerate. I need to think about it." For the next few weeks, the conversation kept replaying in my mind. I kept wondering if Julia would bring it up again, when, or even put our discussion into practice. Whenever I looked at her, searching for any clues, she looked indifferent, her expression heavy with worry.

But I noticed she seemed more content than before, which was a good sign.

One night, I was busy cooking, and Julia sat at the table, scrolling through her emails.

"Do you remember Roy, honey?" she suddenly asked.

"Is he your brother's friend? Of course I remember, how could I forget?" Julia and I started dating in high school, but her brother David never liked me, calling me a fool and a coward. He and his friend Roy often bullied me, telling me to stay away from Julia. It was only after Julia's dad told them to stop that I was freed, and Julia and I weren't broken up.

"I ran into him today," she said casually, and I started to have some doubts.

"Hmm, not bad, that's what we wanted," I said awkwardly.

"He's much more mature now, not the bad guy he used to be. He's very charming and polite now, and he even gave me his phone number, asking me to get together sometime to reminisce about the old days." "You want me to meet Roy? You think we're childhood friends? No way!" I said, a little annoyed

. "Okay, actually, I was just thinking, maybe... maybe I could go out with him, by myself," she said nervously, biting her lip.

Her words struck me like a hammer blow.

"Oh my god, Julia, tell me, you don't think that way!" "It was you, it was you who suggested I find someone like that. I thought maybe, just maybe, Roy would be a good fit. He has a history with our family, and I think I can trust him." Various scenes from the past flashed through my mind, filling me with dread. I had always suspected that Julia had a crush on Roy, but I never imagined it was true.

"But honey, is it really Roy? You're kidding, right? First of all, he's very strong, at least 190cm, right?" "Yeah, I guess, but I like that kind of guy."

These words made my face flush red. I'm only 165cm. So she's always liked tall men. I wanted to protest, wanted to say something, but I just couldn't get the words out. "

How about we take it slow, not too fast? I'll go out to have dinner with him, and then see how things develop, okay?" she whispered, trying to comfort me.

Saturday night, I sat on the sofa, looking unhappy, while Julia was happily preparing for her first date with another man. She called him while I was out, so I had no way of knowing what they talked about. He probably looked both excited and confused when he heard they were having dinner together alone.

Becky was staying at a friend's house that night, so Julia wasn't worried about being discovered.

My wife sat happily at her vanity, changing into a sexy black bra and thong, and alluring stockings, before starting her makeup. She applied a light layer of powder, then painted her lips a bright red lipstick. She glanced at me in the mirror, then stood up and put on an elegant black evening gown. My lovely wife, but tonight she's meeting another man. A short while later, a car horn sounded outside.

"My car's here. I shouldn't have taken so long."

She leaned in and kissed me, trying not to smudge her lipstick. She went downstairs and out the door, the scent of her expensive perfume still lingering in the room.

I sat alone for over an hour, lost in thought. I can't believe it—my wife went out and had a meaningful candlelight dinner with another man. I started cleaning the house to kill time. I cleaned everything, the closets, all the furniture, and the room shone brightly.

I've always found that cleaning is the best way to calm down. Around 10:30 p.m., I heard a car stop outside. I pulled back the curtains and glanced inside. It wasn't a taxi; Julia was talking to the driver. A moment later, the car drove away. She really kept her word and didn't stay out too late, which was a small comfort.

The moment Julia walked in, I noticed she was transformed—happy and radiant. I asked her how her trip was, and she said she had a great time; Roy was such a witty and humorous gentleman. We reminisced about childhood anecdotes, then chatted about our own lives. Roy was now a very successful financier, impeccably dressed and with impeccable taste. However, his love life wasn't great; although he had many girlfriends, he didn't truly love any of them.

"You...you guys...did you have any physical contact?" I asked her nervously.

"Well, after dessert, he reached out and took my hand. I felt so romantic, so wonderful, everything felt so natural, like it should be this way. Then we kissed each other on the cheek, and then he let go of my hand, just like that. Like I said, he's a very gentlemanly man; he already knew I was married. I said I was nervous, and he gently comforted me, telling me not to overthink it and to just have fun." It hurts so much. I can almost see them sitting at the table, hand in hand.

"It was a little awkward at first, but Roy handled it so well. I told him, 'You know I'm dating him, and you don't mind.' Then I told him we have some minor issues with our sex life, but you want me to have a good time." Okay, I bet he was overjoyed to hear that. Suddenly, I felt incredibly humiliated and embarrassed. Now other men know I can't satisfy my own wife in bed!

"How did he respond?"

"He's so understanding. He said not everyone is born with this feature, and not every man has a sexy but empty wife like me. I really appreciated his words. He went on to tell me that he'd liked me for a long time, but because I'm David's sister, he hadn't pursued me openly." My cheeks flushed, and I lowered my head.

"Are you going to see him again?" I asked her hesitantly.

"Of course! I told him I'd call him next time Becky goes out." The following Friday, I was making tea when I heard something I never wanted to hear.

"Mom, can I sleep at my classmate Anna's tonight?"

Becky could tell her mother anything because Julia was in charge of the household.

"Sure, honey, when are you coming?" My wife glanced at me and readily agreed.

"Around seven o'clock."

"Okay, sweetheart, call us when you're coming back so we can pick you up." Julia didn't hide her joy at all, running straight to the bedroom, closing the door, and secretly making a call.

As soon as Becky left, my wife took a shower, then dressed up and got ready to go out. She came downstairs wearing an elegant black dress with a cream-colored top—such a charming beauty!

"Looks like I don't need to ask where you're going," I said bitterly.

"Yeah, and I hope you won't be upset, it's better for everyone. You're the one who encouraged me, remember? Roy just took me out for dinner, I had fun, and you'll be happy too, right, honey?" This time he came directly to my house to pick up my wife. He honked the horn outside, and I had to go out and greet him for a while. Julia rushed out, looking flustered, but still slightly excited.

This time, as I expected, she spent another hour with him, returning around 10:45. I heard the engine outside and peeked out; this time, he actually got out of the car. Time had changed him; he was no longer the young man he once was. He was a head taller than my wife, his broad hands encircling her slender shoulders, and then they passionately kissed. My wife responded warmly to his kiss, nestled in his arms, and gently stroked the back of his head. I was stunned; I desperately hoped no neighbors had seen this! They kissed romantically for several minutes, then shook hands and went inside.

This time, I needed to make a move; I had to act angry.

"How did it go this time? Was your gentlemanly behavior alright? You and he were neck-to-neck, weren't you afraid the neighbors would see?" "What? How dare you talk to me like that? I just had a very enjoyable, exciting, and romantic night, and you want to ruin my good mood?" "You're my wife, Julia!"

"Yes, you're my husband, but if you had fulfilled your duties, this wouldn't have happened!" Julia's words were like thorns, piercing my heart. I slumped into a chair, tears welling up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, honey, I went too far. I shouldn't have said that. Honey, please forgive me!" She came over and stroked my head to comfort me.

"It's okay, you're right, it's all my fault."

"Honey, let me tell you, my relationship with Roy is slowly developing into something warm, natural, and pleasant. He's helped me regain my confidence and made me feel like a woman again. I just want you to understand me. Besides, we haven't slept together yet." "Really not?" I sobbed softly.

She paused, then took a deep breath.

"I think this is inevitable, honey, really. I know perfectly well I'll be sleeping with him, and I want to. I think you need to be prepared; it'll happen sooner or later. I really hope you won't be too angry then, okay?" For the next few weeks, Becky stayed home, often sitting by the pool lost in thought, so I wouldn't have to worry about my wife going out on dates with Roy. I knew she was calling him; sometimes I could hear her talking to him on her phone in the backyard.

"Hello!... Um, it's me... I know, I know... I can't wait to see you either... Oh, no, it's okay, he knows... He won't cause trouble... Everything's under control... Okay... Take care, I'll call you soon, goodbye!" Julia became increasingly restless, spending longer and longer periods shopping; I even suspected she might be having lunch with Roy. She dressed increasingly provocatively—she shouldn't be dressed like this just for shopping. She started paying more and more attention to her appearance and figure, going to the gym every day and getting regular beauty treatments. Becky even brought friends to stay overnight at my house, which made Julia even more frustrated. Finally, after waiting for almost three weeks, Becky asked my wife the question she had been waiting for. My wife agreed without hesitation!

"Staying overnight at Emily's? Of course, no problem! Hmm, great, go ahead, honey!" The next evening, as soon as Becky was picked up, my wife jumped into the closet and started picking out clothes. I watched her dejectedly, chatting with her aimlessly while she focused on getting dressed. This time, she chose a black thong and a slightly transparent white top.

"Isn't this a bit too fast? Where are you going to eat tonight?"

"Ah, we're not going to eat dinner. Roy is taking me dancing tonight, so I think we'll be back a little late." I immediately pictured my wife dancing with Roy, their faces pressed together, their hot bodies pressed tightly together, and I collapsed weakly onto the bed.

Roy came to pick up my wife around 8:30, and this time he actually rang the doorbell. Not wanting to see him, I hid in the bedroom. Julia chuckled, gave me a quick kiss, and ran downstairs to open the door.

I overheard her conversation with Roy from upstairs.

"My husband's upstairs in the bedroom. I'm afraid to see you; I bet he's afraid you'll mess with him again, haha!" They laughed loudly, then closed the door and left.

I sat alone in the dark for a long time, imagining my wife dancing happily with Roy. I had no appetite, no desire to do anything. I went to the bedroom and lay blankly on the bed. Suddenly, I noticed a Victoria's Secret bag in my wife's closet. I looked at the receipt—it was for the new underwear she bought today. I knew she was wearing it for Roy; the sexy lace demi-cup bra was barely visible under her top. It was all for Roy! Night gradually fell, and I waited and waited, but there was still no news from Julia. Deep down, I vaguely sensed what might happen tonight, and it was bound to happen. I felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation, and helplessly fell asleep. I don't know how much time passed when the phone rang, startling me awake. I looked at the clock—it was already two in the morning. On the other end of the line was my wife, drunk and rambling incoherently.

"Honey, it's me. I was afraid you'd worry. I'll sleep at Roy's tonight, okay? Don't wait for me, that's fine. Love you!" My throat felt tight, so uncomfortable. I knew this would happen sooner or later, but hearing the undeniable truth still was hard to accept. It just happened, and I was powerless to change anything. Roy was going to have sex with my new wife, tonight. Closing my eyes, Julia's image appeared—my beloved Julia, the one who stood beside me in the church, vowing never to betray me, was now lying on Roy's bed, spreading her long, beautiful legs, willingly offering her pure little hole to him, having completely forgotten her wedding vows. I saw Roy, holding his hard penis, thrusting it into my wife's wet, slippery hole without hesitation. I saw him forcefully fucking my lovely wife, my wife arching her back, moaning joyfully, releasing all her pent-up passion. I imagined him passionately erupting inside my wife's tender womb, the two of them collapsing, exhausted, onto the soft bed. After their pleasure, they would gently embrace, falling into a deep sleep, then greet the first rays of morning light, beginning a new round of intimacy. I pondered Roy's thoughts at that moment, exploring a woman's forbidden territory, conquering a man's sexy wife. I could see him lifting the new underwear my wife had bought for him, peeling it down her long, white legs, a smug expression on his face.

Suddenly, I realized my long-dormant penis was erect! Imagining their passionate lovemaking, I was erect! Humiliation surged to my cheeks, but I still couldn't control the obscene images of Roy wildly fucking my wife. My feelings at that moment were so complex: intense shame, jealousy, and pain surged into my heart, turning into a raging fire, burning within me, as if I were in a decadent paradise, unable to escape. I began to masturbate. The images in my mind were so vivid, so real, as if they were right in front of me. I quickly ejaculated on my shorts, disgustedly picked up the dirty underwear, and threw it in the trash can. Lying on the bed, my head felt like it was being torn apart, a jumbled mess, and then I drifted off to sleep.

Julia didn't return until around 10 a.m. The look of satisfaction on her face as she walked in, and her cold attitude towards me, I'll never forget. She looked tired, but clearly very happy, her face and neck flushed; I'd bet they'd been having sex all night. We didn't say anything; I couldn't face this harsh reality.

For the next few months, our lives took a new turn. Whenever Becky went out overnight, Julia would invite Roy out, stay at his place, and not return until the next morning, while I was left alone on our wedding bed, masturbating. We pretended, but after a while, I began to realize that my wife had fallen in love with Roy, that their relationship had transcended physical pleasure, and I began to sense a crisis. Whenever Becky went out, or her phone rang, my wife would jump for joy. With summer vacation approaching, I began to sense something ominous. Becky was going to a two-week summer camp, and my slutty wife had definitely planned her schedule long ago. The weekend before Becky left, we had our first open discussion about her infidelity.

"Honey, I just want you to know how grateful I am for the freedom you've given me. I know it's not easy for you," I said, fighting back tears. "It's okay, I'm fine." "Okay, this is important to me, really. You're important, and so is Roy." I couldn't guess what she was trying to say.

"What's wrong, honey? What do you want to tell me?"

"Oh, honey, I don't know where to begin, really. I think what I need to say is... I might be in love with him. I want him to be a part of my life. Becky is too young to understand me, but I think you and Roy will understand. I think the three of us can talk things out openly and stop hiding it. Becky is going to summer camp soon, now is the perfect time. I'm thinking of inviting Roy over for dinner this weekend." "No, honey, please don't..." I pleaded with her. The thought of facing Roy made me uncomfortable, but now that he had openly slept with my wife, I could only swallow my anger. I've always been afraid of him, and this situation terrified me even more. I helplessly begged my wife to change her mind.

"Don't do this, honey, I can't, I really can't..." "Honey, don't be like this... There's nothing to be afraid of, even if it's just for me, okay?" "I'm sorry, honey, I'll do anything else..." She took a deep breath, her face showing some displeasure, and said, "Philip, don't make me choose between the two of you!" I felt the strong threat in her words, and my heart ached terribly. I trembled all over, trying hard to suppress the panic in my heart, but what choice did I have but to agree?

"Okay then."

"Thank you, honey, you make me so happy, you're such a good husband!" She happily kissed my forehead several times.

Saturday arrived, and I felt nauseous all day. I cleaned the house, trying to relax, and of course, also preparing for Roy's visit. Becky left in the morning, and Julia went shopping, not returning until about four in the afternoon, when I was preparing dinner. She bought two new outfits and more expensive underwear. Then I cooked in the kitchen, and she carefully dressed up her already beautiful face. Julia asked me to make steak, Roy's favorite. I set out cutlery for three, with the finest silverware and napkins. I brought out a bottle of fine wine I'd treasured for years and placed it on the table. Then I went upstairs to see if Julia needed any help; she was wearing black leggings and a light blue top, intently putting on her makeup.

"Honey, is dinner ready?"

"Yes, yes."

"Don't overcook it, Roy likes it rare."

"I know, you said so, I'm done."

"Could you come and help me put on this necklace?"

It was a delicate gold chain with a heart-shaped diamond, a gift I'd given her on our first date. I carefully fastened it around her slender neck, her blonde hair exuding the fragrance of shower gel.

"Thank you, honey. Don't be too nervous tonight, okay? Everything will be alright, you'll find it's a wonderful thing for all three of us." I nodded helplessly and hurried downstairs to do the final preparations. I was incredibly nervous, terrified of facing my wife's lover. This man had bullied me when I was young, and now he was sleeping with my wife, bringing me immense humiliation. I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to think about it. I prepared the drinks, setting out cocktail glasses, spirits glasses, and beer glasses, unsure what Roy would drink. He was supposed to arrive at 7 PM. I glanced at the clock; it was 6:57. I shrugged, feeling increasingly tense. Time seemed to stand still. I watched the clock swing to exactly 7 PM, then went to the bathroom to urinate. When I returned, it was already 7:03. My heart was pounding, feeling like it was about to burst out of my chest.

The doorbell rang, and I felt a sudden urge to urinate, quickly holding it in. Then I heard my wife calling me.

"Honey, could you open the door? I'm not ready yet." How could she do this to me! I moved my feet trembling as I walked towards the door. Through the peephole, I saw a tall, imposing man standing outside. I opened the door, and there he was, standing in the doorway, looking down at me. We were finally standing face to face! As long as I live, I will never forget the moment our eyes met. Roy's eyes seemed to hold a thousand words, and although it was only a fleeting glance, I truly felt the profound meaning. So powerful, it makes me tremble every time I think about it.

"You... hello, Roy. Welcome...!" I stammered as I greeted him.

"Thank you!" he said, extending his broad palm with a confident smile, as if everything was under control. I took a deep breath. As we shook hands, I could feel the man's physical and mental superiority. His hand was so strong, his grip steady and confident, while I felt like a weak old smoker.

"Please come in, please come in!"

As soon as he entered the hallway, my wife ran down the stairs. She was so charming; her eyes lit up the moment she saw Roy, and she waved happily, running to his side. They kissed passionately, their love overflowing.

She led him into the living room, then turned to me and gave me orders.

"Honey, go get Roy a drink!"

"Okay, okay. Roy, what would you like to drink?"

"A beer, please," he said casually.

"I want a pine nut liqueur. Oh, and by the way, honey, you should really wear an apron when you're preparing dinner, so you don't get your clothes dirty." I looked at her despairingly, but she glared at me, and I had no choice but to run to the kitchen to get the drink. The apron was wrinkled and made me look like a little woman. I hate wearing aprons, but Julia always made me wear them. Reluctantly, I put the apron around my neck and tied the straps from the back. I could clearly hear them talking. When I went back to the living room to bring them the wine, Roy picked up the glass without saying a word, as if I were just a waiter. He didn't even glance at me; his eyes were fixed on my wife. My wife at least said thank you, albeit casually. Standing in front of them in my dirty apron, I felt so stupid. My wife glanced at me, as if to say that we should give them some privacy.

"Honey, you'd better hurry up and finish; we don't want to eat too late." After finishing dinner, I called them over to eat and ran around carrying plates and bowls for them. I took off my apron and sat down in my seat. We chatted awkwardly. Julia spoke to Roy in a soft voice, like a shy high school student, and occasionally fidgeted with her hair. After we finished eating, Roy started praising my cooking.

"Philip, you're a great cook, and you have such a beautiful house. Julia said you're very good at home; you cleaned all day for my arrival, and I have to say it looks fantastic." I was speechless.

"Honey, Roy just complimented you!" my wife said, displeased.

"Thank you, Roy," I mumbled.

"No, no, I should be thanking you," he said with a smile.

Indeed, I thought, and then washed the dishes. When I returned to the table, I heard Roy launching into a long, enthusiastic spiel.

"Let's be frank, I think we both know why we're sitting here today. Philip, I know you and Julia are married and have built this family together, and I don't want to ruin your happiness, but at the same time, I don't want to end my relationship with your wife. Julia is a very charming woman, and she needs a real man who can give her everything a woman deserves. We both know you can't, but I can." Julia looked at him with adoration, giggling, "Well, I know you can, Roy." "Well then, we're both adults, we're both sober, and I think you need to accept this fact: considering Becky, you have to keep your marriage from breaking down, so Julia is now my woman." "Your woman? But she's my wife, Roy…" I protested nervously.

"Yes, your wife, my woman, you understand correctly. Julia told me I can make her feel very comfortable and experience the joy of being a woman, but you can't, so I said she's my woman. Also, I'm not asking you for a favor, I'm informing you. Whether you like it or not, you'll be seeing me with your wife frequently, starting this week. Do you understand?" "Yes." I lowered my head deeply. He was still so arrogant, speaking to me as if he were in his own home, but I didn't have the slightest courage to contradict him. I was afraid of him, I was even trembling with fear.

"Can you promise to always be a good husband to Julia?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Good. Now listen carefully. From today onwards, as long as I'm here, I'm the man of this house. I'll take care of things you can't do, like taking this beautiful woman to bed, because I'm good at that. Meanwhile, you'll do things you're good at, like keeping the house clean and being at our beck and call, understand?" "Understood!"

I said, and for the first time since the conversation started, I looked up at my wife. She was looking at me too, with a strange expression of love and contempt on her face. She was clearly satisfied with my answer, letting her lover take control of everything, but at the same time, perhaps she was a little surprised that I compromised so quickly.

"Alright, I think this is the best-case scenario," she said.

After saying that, they ignored me, and I had to continue doing my housework. When I finished, I went over to chat with them. They were sitting on the sofa, entwined together. Julia looked up at me.

"Honey, could you tidy up the guest room?"

"For...for Roy?" I still clung to a sliver of hope, a bittersweet glimmer. Then they both laughed.

"Don't be silly, baby, of course it's for you. Roy and I sleep in our bed. Go change the sheets in the master bedroom now, hurry up!" I had no choice but to make the bed. I first made the small bed in the guest room, then went to tidy the bed my wife and I had slept in for years. As I worked, I imagined Roy fucking my dear wife hard on this bed tonight, while I could only masturbate alone in the guest room. I could hear their laughter coming from downstairs. When I went down, I saw them entwined together, Roy's broad hands gripping my wife's round, firm buttocks, gently kneading them.

"Oh, so good...when are you carrying me to bed, you big-dicked husband?" Roy opened his arms, picked up my wife, and carried her upstairs—something I could never do. I pitifully followed them upstairs. Roy turned and smiled at me before carrying my wife into the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Lying on the lonely, cold bed in the guest room, I could hear them making love all night; they must have been going at it for hours. This is what real men and women make love, I thought. In our more than ten years of sex life, I could only last a maximum of 45 minutes. I could hear the creaking of the bed next door, I could hear my wife's waves of pleasure, I could hear her calling Roy's name, begging him to fuck her hard, telling him that she belonged to him and would always be his slut. Listening to them making love, I helplessly masturbated.

The morning sunlight streamed in, piercing me awake. My genitals were covered in a sticky layer of semen—it was disgusting. I washed myself clean and went downstairs to prepare breakfast for Julia and Roy. A strange thing happened, seemingly insignificant, yet it forever changed my life—more than the dramatic changes of the past few months, more than my wife's heartbreaking betrayal, more than the truly horrific experience of last night. As I made coffee, I suddenly felt an unbelievable surge of joy. At the time, I didn't know what was happening, but now, looking back, I think it was perhaps that moment when I felt true comfort for the first time, when I found meaning in my life. That was, for the first time, I felt that others were so happy, and that was what I longed for most. I felt as if the heavy weight on my shoulders had been lifted in an instant. Although still confused, I began to hum a little tune as I filled their breakfast tray. I carried the tray upstairs cheerfully, then nervously knocked on the master bedroom door.

"Come in!" I heard Julia's voice.

Roy was sitting on my bed, and my wife, like a kitten who had just received cheese, nestled happily naked in his arms. She was lying on his broad chest, lovingly stroking him. I swallowed hard; the thought of my naked wife sleeping in our bed with another man brought tears of humiliation to my eyes! But then I remembered the harmonious moment I had just experienced in the kitchen, and I felt relieved. Julia looked radiant and happy, and I was happy too.

"Look, so sweet! It seems you really accepted what we talked about yesterday, right, Philip?" Roy exclaimed in surprise as I brought them breakfast.

"Yes... Roy, I accepted it."

"Good husband, I love you so much for preparing breakfast for us! Roy really needs to eat something good after all that last night," Julia added smugly.

I coughed softly.

"Is there anything else you'd like to order?" I asked politely, secretly hoping for their refusal.

"Of course, get me a newspaper," Roy ordered.

I was shocked; he was actually ordering me around in my own bedroom! But I quickly realized he was the owner of the house, and I immediately obeyed and got him the newspaper. As I went out, I kept thinking, trying to express the mental pleasure I had just experienced so I could describe it to Roy and Julia. When I returned with the newspaper, Roy took it without a word. Julia looked at me again with a mixture of affection and disdain. This time, I didn't care about Roy's rudeness, or even my wife's meaningful look. I began to enjoy the natural order of things; everything has its place. I wanted to say something, and after struggling for a long time, I finally mustered the courage.

"Roy... Roy?" I stammered, the painful experiences of my childhood still tormenting me.

"What is it, Philip?" he looked up and replied.

Julia also looked up at me, curious.

"I... I was thinking..." I continued.

"And then?" He started to sound a little annoyed.

"Oh...oh...I...I want to thank you for everything you've done. I mean, you've made my wife so sexually happy, so satisfied. I was too selfish before, always holding a grudge against you two, but now I finally realize that I should accept the fact that only you can give his woman all her needs, and I should be happy that she found such a strong man as you. I promise I will do my best to make you both happy, and I...I now accept you as the owner of this house. Thank...thank you, Roy, thank you so much!" As soon as I finished speaking, Roy and Julia burst out laughing.

"Do you believe what he said? He just thanked me for having sex with his wife!" Roy was stunned.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're so considerate, really, I love you!" my wife said, with a contemptuous smile on her face.

I could feel that Julia's respect for me as a man was gone, but at the same time, she was happy because she knew that my unconditional cooperation meant that she had gotten her dessert and could enjoy it without worry. She made me her selfless husband, Becky's father, while she was free to maintain her intimate relationship with Roy, the real man in her life, her new love. She continued to laugh, and I left, head down, closing the door to shut out their laughter.

When Roy and Julia didn't get up until noon, they wandered around the house like a pair of lustful teenagers. My wife was wearing a loose t-shirt and white underwear, and Roy was only wearing boxer shorts. At lunch, my wife told me that Roy would be staying for two weeks. I nodded and asked if I could help.

"Well, since you said so, Roy does have some clothes to pick up from his apartment. If you drive over to get them, I can play in the pool with Roy this afternoon." "Okay, I'll go." Like a robot given a command, I quickly went to complete my task. When I got there, Roy's room was a complete mess, so I decided to tidy it up for him; he would be happy that way. So many dirty clothes! I washed them, ironed them, and then packed them into a big box.

Several hours had passed when I got home.

As I walked in, I heard a strange noise coming from the living room, and I was stunned by what I saw.

Roy was sitting on the sofa, drinking beer and watching a football game, while my wife Julia, wearing a bikini, was kneeling at his feet, sucking his penis. She had her eyes closed in ecstasy, not even realizing she was home, her attention completely focused on her lover's penis, working diligently for him. His penis was long and thick, much bigger than mine, and her lips tightly enveloped its shaft, her head slowly rising and falling, sucking incessantly.

I stood there, utterly shocked. This wasn't some crazy oral sex scene from a porn movie; my wife was actually licking some man's penis! Roy looked up at me, leering, and said, "Thanks, Philip, you've done me a huge favor. Just put it in the closet upstairs. You'll have to take your clothes out of there and bring me a beer, thanks!" "Okay, okay!" I quickly went to carry out his orders.

Through these two weeks of training, I've become increasingly content with my role as a docile cuckolded husband. I do my best to provide the best service, without disturbing their sex life. It's not difficult; they're either sunbathing by the pool or fucking in the bedroom. Roy is incredibly gluttonous, tirelessly fucking my wife.

I enjoy it all; they're always upstairs, giving me ample time to clean without feeling inconvenienced.

Listening to the lewd moans coming from the bedroom, I work diligently, kneeling on the floor to scrub the floor and iron Roy's clothes, experiencing unparalleled pleasure each time. Only a born cuckolded husband can understand and enjoy this wonderful pleasure: ironing another man's shirt, making sure every wrinkle is smoothed out, while that man is upstairs frantically having sex with his wife, the creaking of the bed like a beautiful concerto. Wow, like being in heaven!

Becky's return is slowly approaching, and I feel a shameful sadness; our love triangle is about to end. These days have been so exciting, like a cuckolded husband's paradise. I feel Julia's sadness too, though she misses Becky. Our daughter will be back on Saturday, traveling with her friends. Friday night, I prepared a lavish dinner for Roy, his last night with us. He ordered me to have dinner ready by eight, and as soon as the time came, I proudly put on my apron and brought out the carefully cooked, delicious beef.

Roy and Julia were in the bedroom—Julia had worn a new, sexy dress for dinner, and I guessed Roy had gone upstairs a while ago. Of course, something else had happened too. I went upstairs to tell them dinner was ready, and as I approached the bedroom door, I heard sounds that excited me immensely. A little closer, and I heard my wife's voice: she was begging Roy to fuck her hard!

"Quick, Roy! Fuck me with your big cock! I want you to fuck me hard! I don't know how I'll live without you… I want you in! Put it in my pussy, quick! Quick! You can't be so cruel as to leave me alone with that impotent man. Have you seen his cock? It's so thin! So thin! Roy, please have pity on me, fuck me!… I'll always be your slut! Fuck me however you want! My body is all yours! My pussy belongs only to you!" "To you! I swear! You can fuck other women, I know you need it, I don't mind, just please fuck me quickly! Roy, please, fuck me! You can come and fuck me whenever you want! As long as you want to fuck my pussy, I'll be here, waiting for you to fuck me, Roy, you know that... please! Please fuck me! ..." Roy secretly rejoiced, enjoying my wife's servile pleas, and calmly commanded, "Kneel down!" I heard my wife quickly kneel down, continuing to beg him to fuck her with his big cock. Finally, I heard his gentle voice.

"Take it out yourself." He said, and then I heard my wife zipping up his zipper.

"Lick it for me!"

Julia's frantic begging finally stopped, followed by the sound of her sucking on his cock, and her ecstatic moans. After a long time, I heard Roy moaning loudly again.

"That's it, ah! So good, good girl, swallow it all!" I heard Julia's panting, then she whispered, "Thank you, Roy." I stood there, my ears glued to the sounds coming from the room. They, and I, had all forgotten about the dinner I had been preparing for so long.

From the bedroom came Roy's clear command again, his deep voice.

"Take off your clothes, quickly!"

"Ah, okay, okay, Roy... thank you... please come and fuck me quickly!" I heard her say obediently, clumsily taking off her clothes.

"Lie down on the bed."

"Mmm, okay... okay..."

"Now, spread your legs!"

I heard my wife let out a soft moan.

"Look, David's sister, all grown up, fully developed, a respectable married woman, spreading her sexy legs for old man Roy..." "Yes, come fuck me, Roy, fuck me! Put your big cock in! My little cunt needs your big cock! Roy, give it to me!" As he thrust in, I heard my wife let out a satisfied scream. I tried to look into the bedroom through the keyhole, but the hole was too small; I could only see one of my wife's beautiful legs swinging wildly in the air. Once, I saw her flushed face, the intoxication of being fucked so pleasurably. It was so exciting; I quickly ejaculated in my pants, my penis still throbbing. Suddenly, I realized they might find out, and I hurriedly climbed down the stairs. Julia's captivating moans followed my footsteps, echoing in my ears and filling the entire house.

For two weeks, I hadn't heard my wife make such a seductive sound.

I went downstairs and entered the safe area of the hallway. Suddenly I heard another sound, a sound that froze my blood—the sound of a key turning in the lock! Time seemed to stand still. The past two weeks of frantic cuckoldry flashed before my eyes like a movie, culminating in Julia's piercing scream. Before I could react, Becky had already walked in, bag in hand, and stepped into the hallway.

"Dad! Wow, what a pretty apron! Emily's coming home a day early, so I wanted to surprise you. What was that sound?" Before I could stop her, she went straight upstairs to her bedroom. I was about to catch up with her when I was horrified to see Emily and her father get out of the car, cross the driveway, and come over to greet me. To get rid of these two terrifying devils, I quickly went out the front door and quietly closed it.

"Hello!" I greeted them as they approached. "Thank you so much for bringing Becky home; it really surprised us. Unfortunately, I can't invite you in because my wife has the flu, and I don't want you to catch it." "Oh, that's really sad to hear. I wish her a speedy recovery." "Yes, I hope so. Thank you." "Okay, everything will be alright. We'll be going now." "Okay, thank you again." After they drove away, I took a deep breath and thought helplessly about what might be happening inside. I knew I had to face this sooner or later, so I opened the door and went in.

The room was unusually quiet. I went upstairs to the master bedroom, knocked on the door, and found Roy lying alone on the bed.

"I'm... sorry to bother you. Where's my wife?" "She's in Becky's bedroom, chatting with her. It's better to let the kids know, don't you think? Maybe things will go more smoothly..." He seemed to know everything.

I shrugged and went out. I couldn't believe his attitude. I went to Becky's room, knocked lightly on the door, and heard Julia's unusually stern voice from inside.

"What is it?"

"It's me, may I come in?"

"No, Philip, don't come in. I need to talk to Becky, I need to tell her everything directly.

Go downstairs and wait!"

I had no choice but to go downstairs, wash some dishes, and wait for several more hours. I cried for a while. No matter how it would end, I felt so ashamed that my dear daughter knew I was a cuckolded husband, an impotent man, who allowed another man to come to his house and have sex with his wife, and even prepared dinner for this man.

Around ten o'clock, I heard Roy leave without saying goodbye, probably tired of waiting. Around midnight, I heard Becky's bedroom door open.

When the two of them came downstairs, Becky was surprisingly calm. When I met her gaze, her eyes held an expression almost identical to her mother's: schadenfreude, affection, and deep contempt. From my 16-year-old daughter, my little Becky, the light of my life, enough to melt my soul! Julia told me she had apologized to Becky for such a huge disgrace, but she also explained that she too had needs, which I couldn't satisfy. I lowered my head in shame, waiting for her to finish. Becky finally accepted the reality, telling her mother that she understood. What I found suspicious was that Becky had agreed to her mother's request to continue dating Roy; Roy had truly become a part of Julia's life. Becky said that if I could accept it, she certainly could too. Having resolved this enormous problem, we all went to bed, but the shame and shock of that night needed time to heal.

In the following months, Roy visited our house frequently, and although we tried to get him to come when Becky wasn't home, they inevitably bumped into each other. In short, her mother fell in love with this man; he had become a part of her life, and of course, a part of mine. At first, it seemed a little strange, but slowly, Becky got used to his presence, even starting to like him, liking his wit and humor. But she and I grew increasingly distant. Why? I don't know. I didn't do anything wrong; maybe I just couldn't satisfy my wife like a real man. Perhaps it was because my subservient attitude towards Roy made her lose the respect she deserved. Let it be. Whenever he came over, I continued to be so cowardly, continuing to obey all his commands, treating him as the master of the house. Julia told Becky not to gossip about our family's relationship, but I suspect she had already told a few of her close friends, because the strange looks they gave me in my house gave me a glimpse of the truth.

Once I overcame the difficult feeling of being known and despised by Becky, I began to look forward to the return of those two weeks of revelry. I had already borne the stigma of being a cuckolded husband, and I felt that being their humble and pitiful servant was the meaning and ultimate purpose of my existence. I knew Julia longed for Roy to be with her often, and I no longer tried to have sex with her—although my ability to maintain an erection had recovered, she would still mock the size of my penis, saying it wasn't as big as her lover's, and she would angrily push me away whenever I tried.

One day, at my behest, my wife, our daughter, and I sat down and asked her if she would accept the idea of Roy living with us permanently. To our delight, she agreed and was quite open-minded about the whole thing, so that night my wife went to discuss it with Roy. He, of course, agreed, thinking that he would be the owner of the house from now on, and Julia didn't object to him occasionally dating other women, so for this reason, he continued to rent his original apartment. I bought champagne and threw a small welcome party for his arrival that weekend. I cleaned the entire house, swept through all the closets, moved my clothes to the guest room or basement, and redecorated the master bedroom's king-size bed. When I popped the champagne, the whole family cheered, toasting to the arrival of the new man in the house!

We all began to get used to this idyllic life. Roy was, of course, the absolute master of the house, bearing his unique mark, and all family members had to obey him unconditionally. Julia was the happiest—at least there was a real man in the house who made her feel safe, who believed he could protect her and her daughter, and she regained her sexual satisfaction. Every night she was brought to ecstasy, and therefore radiated a captivating glow every day. After many years of delay, she had finally gotten it again. She was still as good to me as before, sometimes like a mother, but without a doubt, Roy had become her true love, the only man in her life. Becky was also happy—she treated Roy like her own father, a tall and respected man she held in high esteem. She often sought his opinion and played with him innocently.

As for me, I was actually quite content. I felt I had found my perfect place in life: a cuckolded husband and a loyal servant. I no longer pitifully tried to feign masculinity; I was freed from immense pressure. I knew I was still somewhat useful to Roy and Julia—I could do the laundry, cook, iron, polish shoes, and serve them in every way imaginable. In fact, I had become obsessed with housework and decided to be a useful person. Every day, I diligently scrubbed the kitchen floor, cleaned the bathroom, dusted the house, picked up their dirty clothes, washed and ironed them, and then folded them neatly and put them in their closet.

Every night, I would put on my wrinkled apron and prepare a delicious dinner for the three of them early in the morning. I would get up early for breakfast and then begin my work of serving them. Becky found it strange at first, but after a few days she got used to it. After a few weeks, she started treating me like a servant, casually ordering me to get her drinks and take away her dirty dishes. She imitated Roy and Julia's behavior, throwing her dirty laundry at me. One day, Becky scolded me for not cleaning the bathroom properly, even though I had already scrubbed it that morning, so I decided to check on it every hour and clean it again. In fact, from then on, I meticulously cleaned every piece of furniture after use.

Of course, Roy was even happier. He now had everything—a beautiful house, another man's sexy wife at his disposal, and a loyal servant at his beck and call. To me, it was what he deserved. His powerful masculinity brought a new atmosphere of joy and belonging to our family, and I was always grateful for his entry into our home, taking on responsibilities I had never been able to shoulder. Obeying Roy seemed like a given for both Julia and me; he made my wife a sexually fulfilled woman, and in return, I was expected to serve him well and do my best to satisfy him. As long as I was awake, I would do everything I could to please him and make my wife and daughter happy. Sometimes, seeing the three of them huddled on the sofa watching TV, my wife's hand gently stroking Roy's broad chest, I feel a pang of jealousy. But then I remind myself of my place and the pride I feel serving them, and that makes me feel much better. When I do small things to make my masters more comfortable, like polishing his shoes or sewing buttons onto his coat, I feel an unprecedented joy. Perhaps this is my destiny; we are the happiest people here—everyone knows his natural place, and everyone willingly serves Roy, the rightful master of this house. This is my true paradise as a cuckolded husband, and I never want this wheel of life to stop turning.

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Paradise for cuckolded husbands

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