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My Husband is a Cuckold!? Part 10.I tried to look confident...
🕑 Added 2024-12-07 11:12:57 +0000 UTCMy Husband is a Cuckold!? Part 10.
I tried to look confident. But as I walked those 30 meters to the car where another man was waiting for me, my legs trembled with anxiety.
I approached the front passenger side, opened the door, sat down, and closed the door behind me.
The car was warm; Misha had already turned on the heater. Soft music was playing, and the dim lights created a cozy atmosphere.
"Hi," I greeted him hesitantly.
"Hi, Ksyusha. How was your trip?" Misha asked calmly. He seemed quite confident.
"Without any issues. Your screenshot from Google Maps was really helpful."
I felt awkward. The last time I felt like this was when my first boyfriend took my virginity.
"Are you cold? Should I turn the heat up?"
"No, it's fine... How was your trip?"
"Good. But with all the new streetlights, it's harder to stay out of sight," Misha smiled.
"But you managed," I paused for a moment. "Misha, you don't mind if my husband texts me, do you?"
"No, not at all. If it makes you more comfortable, I'm fine with it."
"Good."
Misha gently leaned in and kissed me on the lips. For a moment, I pulled back, but the cozy atmosphere he had created in the car helped me relax, and I kissed him back.
A notification sound interrupted us. I realized it was from Dima.
"My husband is texting. You don't mind, do you?" I asked Misha.
"Of course not, answer if you want to."
I unlocked my phone and saw the message from my husband:
"How are you?"
"Good, and you?" I replied.
"I'm okay too. What are you doing?"
"Just talking for now."
"Did you tell him you'll be texting me?"
"Yes. What else do you want to know?"
I was starting to get annoyed by his questions. I wanted to focus on my feelings and give Misha my attention. "I’m here for him!" I thought.
"Still talking?"
"Yes… We've already kissed."
"Will you tell me when you touch his dick?"
"Okay."
I put my phone aside and decided I wanted to give my time to the new guy. I didn't like how often Dima was messaging.
I placed my hand on Misha's crotch.
"Does your seat recline?" I asked.
Without a word, he reclined his seat into a semi-lying position. His dick hardened quickly, which was so pleasing. I started unzipping his pants, and he helped by lifting himself up and pushing them down to his knees along with his boxers. I was curious to try his cock; I slowly leaned down and kissed the tip. Everything felt like a blur, so unusual… That moment when another man’s dick is near your face… it’s probably thrilling for every woman. You try to catch its scent and taste… assess its size. I wrapped my lips around the head and started licking it. That salty taste was incomparable; I had always loved it. In all my relationships, no one ever had to convince me to give head—I always did it willingly and enjoyed it.
I picked up my phone and, without stopping, texted Dima:
"Tasty."
He replied immediately:
"The dick? Send a photo."
But I was already too engrossed. Misha began stroking my hair with one hand and lifting my dress with the other. His fingers touched my panties and felt my wetness. My anxiety started to fade, and I realized I wanted more than just oral tonight. Another notification popped up:
"Are you busy, my love?"
This openly annoyed me. I wanted Dima to stop texting and give me the space to enjoy this.
"Misha, can you take a picture for him, please?"
I held his dick in my hand. He took my phone, and the shutter sound clicked, but without the flash, the photo turned out dark. He sent it anyway. Dima quickly replied:
"Can’t see anything (."
Misha took another picture, this time with the flash. The photo turned out well. Messages from Dima followed:
"I see! How do you like it, sunshine? Don’t rush."
"I like it!" I replied, holding Misha's dick in my mouth and my phone in my hand. I didn’t really want to be distracted anymore. Dima's messages were just irritating me. He kept writing:
"Are you sucking well? Take a pic of you licking his balls."
"What stupid questions," I thought, not really wanting to respond. But I wrote:
"Very well."
After this message, I handed the phone to Misha. He understood what to do. He turned on the camera and began filming me as I sucked him off. The arousal filled me. Although my hands trembled slightly on his dick, I continued. Over and over, I took him into my mouth, sliding down his shaft with my tongue and licking his balls. I enjoyed it so much, especially knowing that my husband was likely jerking off somewhere outside, waiting for my updates.
"I think that's enough filming," I said to Misha, pulling his dick out of my mouth.
I took the phone and sent the video to Dima.
He immediately replied:
"This is amazing. I love you."
He probably wanted to reassure me, thinking I was worried about his love for me. But his messages were just distracting me. I wanted to focus on the new dick. To please him and enjoy myself.
To stop him from writing more, I replied:
"I love you too. He's about to fuck me. I'll call you."
I called him, and he picked up. At least now he’d be occupied with that and wouldn’t text. I put the phone aside and gave myself entirely to the moment.
Misha took a sanitizer from the glove compartment and wiped his hands. Then his fingers returned to my pussy. At that moment, I couldn’t tear myself away from his dick; it felt too good. He moved my panties aside and gently spread my wetness over my lips, then slowly inserted two fingers into me. A pleasant sensation spread through my body, and I moaned softly. There was no longer any awkwardness or shyness. I licked Misha’s dick and balls like he was my husband. He gently stroked my hair and continued fingering me. I could’ve stayed like that all night, but I really wanted to feel his dick inside me.
I stopped and reached into my bag for a condom. I handed it to Misha, and he put it on himself.
By the way, his dick was about the same size as Dima’s, maybe slightly smaller.
Misha immediately removed my dress. I was left in stockings and a bra.
I straddled him, took his dick in my hand, and guided it into me. There was so much of my natural lube that he slipped in quickly.
"You’re so tight, Ksyusha, and you smell so nice," Misha said.
His words pleased me. At that moment, Misha seemed shyer than I was. When I sat on his dick, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. I confidently started moving up and down.
I decided that Dima should see this.
"Misha, record this, please," I said, my breathing a little uneven from excitement.
Misha took the phone and began filming.
"Enough, send it to him," I said after 30 seconds of recording.
We put the phone aside again, and I continued enjoying the process.
I rode him as if it were my last time, even breaking a sweat. He squeezed my breasts so hard it hurt, but I didn’t care because I was so aroused. I lifted Misha’s shirt and pressed my body tightly against his. I love it when bodies rub against each other during sex; it makes me feel more connected to the man.
But for some reason, I didn’t want to kiss him at that moment, even though he tried. I took his face and pressed his head back against the headrest. He began kissing my hands and licking my fingers. It was an unusual feeling. I watched him and saw how much he was enjoying it. I felt completely in control of him. After a few minutes, I realized he was about to cum. He grabbed my ass and began thrusting into me from below. With each movement, he pulled me tighter against him. Suddenly, he groaned and started cumming. Misha thrust into me with force. It felt so good, but I didn’t have time to climax. It wasn’t a problem; I still enjoyed the process. I moved a bit more on him and faked an orgasm. I didn’t want to upset him.
I sat on him for another minute to catch my breath. I felt his dick soften and slide out of me. Then I got off and sat in the seat, immediately picking up my phone and texting Dima:
"Done. Meet me at the car. I want you to offer me your hand."
I didn’t know where this desire came from, but I really wanted my husband to meet me like that. Perhaps I had fully embraced the fact that he was a cuckold and I could treat him this way.
Dima replied:
"Okay. What are you doing now?"
"Getting dressed," I replied.
I got dressed, kissed Misha on the lips, and we thanked each other. Then I texted Dima that I was ready to leave. He approached the car, opened the door, and offered me his hand. I stepped out, closed the door, and kissed him passionately.
"Congratulations, you’re officially a cuckold," I whispered in his ear.
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