Our Sexploration

wrong way


Sometimes the only way to discover the right path is to discover the wrong path. In the last few days, Nick and I found we’d gone “the wrong way” on our sexploration path to intimacy.

Our latest walk on the cuckold journey began a few weeks ago, when I was contacted by a prospective bull I’d met last year, shortly before Nick and I had decided cuckolding wasn’t quite right for us. Several months later, as my internal scale tipped more toward the side of desire/pleasure vs. worry/guilt/shame (usually so unbearably heavy!) I received the email from Mr. X–a perfect opening to give it a try again.

Needless to say, Nick heated up over the thought of me with another man, for his internal scale, we’ve decided, is weighted the exact opposite of mine:

nick scale (1)

Nick’s desire is full tilt–usually. But there have been times, as we approach the “event,” that his scale tips toward worry surrounding my interaction with another man, whether it is my safety or his concerns that the Bull and I will develop a relationship beyond sex, a relationship that will exclude him.

Elise scale (1)

My guilt/shame/worry is full tilt–usually. That is, until the “act” approaches and certainly during the “act” when my scale shifts to desire in heavy mode. Shortly after the “event,” my scale goes back to its “normal,” which is heavily weighted toward guilt/shame/worry.

Anyway, back to what happened in the last few days.

I went on a date with Mr. X, to get reacquainted after so many months, and, of course, to discuss the possibility of cuckolding Nick, who waited at home, hot and anxious to hear all about it.

When I arrived home, I sprinkled whisperings of what Mr. X and I had talked about into a night of very hot, pounding sex.

“He wants to be dominant,” I said, as Nick pinched my nipple. “And he likes short skirts and stockings. I think I’ll wear fishnets,” I whispered as Nick entered me. When Nick turned me over and took me from behind, I turned to look at him and said, “This is both Mr. X’s and my favorite position.”

Nick was hot, hot, hot. And when he gets that hot, it lasts for days. It’s what begins to tip the balance of my inner scale to desire/pleasure.

All the while, his scale is tipping the other way, as talk of the “event” gets closer, as communications with Mr. X heated up, as Mr. X asked for photos of me, until finally, Nick expressed that he wasn’t so sure he was comfortable with what appeared to be a relationship blossoming between Mr. X and me–even though I shared everything with Nick.

Nick admitted he’d hesitated to let me know his concerns, lest it interfere with the success of the cuckold.

I told him I thought there were times he needed to put his passion aside, and listen to his inner voice.

Somehow, I can’t say exactly how or why, we ended up arguing. Nick’s temper flared about his perception that a relationship was blossoming, and my temper flared because I felt I’d done nothing wrong.

Finally, I asked, “Why are we doing this? We rarely argue about anything, and now look at what we’re arguing about. We’re arguing because you’re not so sure you want me doing something that I’m pretty darned sure I don’t want to be doing except that it turns you on.”

The next day, I wrote an email to Mr. X, apologizing for drawing him into the situation. I told him of some of the complications that had arisen, and told him that for me, when complications arise, it takes all the fun out of it. I copied Nick on the email.

And so, on this sexploration, we took a bit of a wrong turn, and turned around to come back. But it doesn’t mean Nick and I won’t continue to sexplore.

For now, we’ve decided that perhaps our best method of cuckolding is to go to a swing club, where we have the experience of the “act” itself, but it’s wham-bam-thank-you-m’am, with none of the lead-up that can add complications.

After some hot, swinging sex, Nick and I will leave together, go home, light a few candles and revel in the hot, sultry light of the event for days to come.


When I was a little boy, my grandfather used to look at my over-filled dinner plate and tell me, “Nicky, your eyes are bigger than your stomach.”

Now, as an adult, when it comes to cuckold play, my fantasies it turns out, are bigger than my readiness to live in their reality. This past weekend fantasy and reality collided. I’m sure it was confusing for Elise and the guy she was getting to know.

While I have reveled  in fantasies about being Elise’s cuckold boy, about her being out on a date, fucking a bull, coming home with her pussy filled with cum which I submissively, hungrily, lap up, like some cuckold in a story commonly found on cuckold blogs and forums, I am learning that there are limitations to what I want in reality.

Last week Elise went out on her first date in almost a year. I was incredibly excited.  We’d decided to stop cuckolding back in August, though Elise didn’t close the door all the way. We still talked about it. She teased me, put me in chastity, dommed me and hinted she might enjoy going back to a swing club. Now she’d reconnected with a bull and was headed out to meet him.

She looked beautiful when I walked into the house. She’d waited for me to get home from work. I kissed her goodbye on the lips a little too passionately, so she scrunched up her face, and said, “Now I have to redo my lipstick.”

Though I was heated way up as Elise left on her date and stayed heated up as she sent me naughty texts and even a picture of her kissing Mr. X on the cheek, I had a vague concern I hadn’t shared with her because I didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm.

Her date was with the bull she’d met last year who was married and looking for a lover. Last year he wanted to spend time meeting Elise at hotels alone, with just him, before I would be a part of the scene. I was sure that wouldn’t work for me and Elise seemed to agree. So after their first meeting, she wrote him an email saying we would both need to participate even if I was in a room next door, while they played.  He never wrote us back. Apparently that wouldn’t work for him.

She was out for several hours. I stayed home writing, pacing, listening to music and checking my phone for a text every minute. She teased me with texts every 20 minutes or so, keeping me on edge. There was always the possibility they might head to a hotel–we had talked about that being a possibility. Finally she texted she was on the way home.

She arrived hot. We kissed for a long time in the doorway and then again in the kitchen. It was like the first time again. She undressed quickly, shushed the cats out of the bedroom and got into bed, flushed and with that wide, thin smile she gets when she is feeling really naughty.

She shared little details. Teased me, wouldn’t let me inside her. Said she was keeping me in chastity. I’d cum enough the day before. But I begged.

“Tough shit,” she huffed, her eyes steady. She talked about their conversation. He liked anal and oral and a specific kind of lingerie. He was Dom, liked a woman in a dress, not dressed like she was, liked to take a woman doggie style, just the way she liked it, too. I was rock hard for her, all hers.

“Are you going to cuckold me, Mistress?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, with a strength that made me shudder and slip deep into my submissive space. She’d never been so clear and direct with me. She was hot. I was fucking her but it seemed clear there was someone else in the room.

She eventually let me cum. We settled down a bit to talk. It was then the first sting hit me, when he texted her saying she had a nice kiss.  I’d thought she was keeping her phone private.

“I can’t respond,” she told me. “He’s married and he doesn’t want his wife to know.” So his marriage was no longer open.

Mr. X and Elise had planned that he and I would meet to discuss future meetings, perhaps just Elise and him, perhaps then the three of us, Elise said that would be up to Mr. X and me to work out.

This seemed reasonable but by morning I was not comfortable. It was clear Mr. X was going to be in the background of our relationship for some time.

Elise assured me that no, he didn’t want romance this time. Yes he was open to me participating and wanted to meet me. Maybe,  she said, we could all be friends and eventually go to the swinger party together. I thought the plan sounded reasonable. I wasn’t comfortable but didn’t come right out and tell Elise that. I was still under the spell of my cuckold fantasy, needing it. These old boundaries I had, maybe I could let go of them.

Elise seemed to have gone quiet though. She didn’t want to blog about it.  I asked her to write what had changed about her interest in cuckolding and she said, “Nothing except that my fear and guilt have waned. My desire to turn you on has grown.”

“What do you want to have happen with Mr. X?” I asked.

“Maybe we play a few times and then become friends. ” She added that she really thought going to a swing club would be much less complicated, though she still seemed to want to see this through with Mr X.

I was uneasy. We had not ventured into the realm of having an ongoing relationship with a bull. Still I thought maybe I could meet him and we could work out a way of getting together that worked for both of us.

As I prepared and thought about what was most important to me, I realized that my main desire and concern was that nothing be hidden, no hidden emails, no undisclosed texts, everything out in the open.  What I really wanted was no ongoing exclusive relationship between Mr. X and Elise. I didn’t want another guy in the background of our relationship.

No love triangles, no polyamorous relationships, just a cuckolding threesome. If Elise wanted me out of the room for a while while she and a bull got warmed up that would fine, I’d done that. But at the end of the night, I wanted it to be just us. No more bull with us the following day.

I sent Mr. X a response to his email about our meeting and let him know that Elise had tried on some fishnet stockings she thought he might like. I copied Elise, of course. Mr. X however didn’t respond to me, instead sent a request to Elise, asking for pictures of her in lingerie.

Elise sent me a copy right away and asked if I thought she should reply. I wrote back that I thought it was okay and that I could understand why he hadn’t copied me. I could understand but I didn’t like it. A big, big understatement. It raised again, all my red flags that had been raised last year.

That night when I got into bed with Elise, she showed me the pictures she emailed him. I told her that I was struggling with some real ambivalence about going forward. I felt uncomfortable, like he had another agenda, though I couldn’t be sure.

Elise grew irritated. She’d been doing the best she could to bring something off she really didn’t want and here I was suggesting she wasn’t doing it right. We fought loudly. In the end we agreed it wasn’t going to work this way. We needed to stop the engagement.

We made love. Elise and I have incredible chemistry. After we did I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t let go. I got up and wrote an email to both her and Mr. X, stating that we needed to get it over with and do it soon. No meeting. No hidden communication. We’d just go to a hotel, do it this week and then say goodbye.

Elise read the email the next morning and was pissed. “I thought we agreed it was over?”

I realized that we had agreed to that, but for some reason I felt a need to write what I did.

Elise wrote an email that morning to Mr. X, apologizing for pulling him into the situation. I felt a little dumb, but relieved and also relieved that I’d communicated what kind of boundaries I wanted.

I learned two things from the experience:

  1. That the intensity of my fantasy can cause me to disregard boundaries and limits that are important for my well being. Some time down the road I may feel more secure with Elise having an ongoing relationship with a bull but not now.
  2. The joy of cuckolding is being in an erotic space with Elise where I’m her submissive and she’s enjoying her sexuality with another man. That space for me needs to be limited and clearly defined, likely a one time event,  such as a one time encounter at a swing club or possibly a night with a bull we’ve recently met together.

I’m sure Elise and I will have hot adventures down the road and most likely, we’ll make some wrong turns. But as always, we’ll learn from our mistakes.


About Nick and Elise

It may turn away some readers to know that Nick and Elise are, shall we say, right smack dab in mid-life. But, it’s part of their story. Blessed with healthy sexual appetites that have not waned as they've aged, they also feel blessed to have found each other, after leaving sexless marriages. And now, having discovered in each other a playmate as well as a soul mate, they play. And they write about it. Some of what they write is real. Some of it is fantasy. Only Nick and Elise know the difference between the two.
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