My Cuck Story 2
My Cuck Story Line 2
(Script By Paryagugyi)
The scene unfolding before me pushed my jealousy to its absolute limit, while my heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic drum. I had never experienced such a raw, overwhelming surge of adrenaline in my entire life. This was the exact kind of "intense thrill" people always talked about on forums—only now, I was experiencing it firsthand, in the flesh.
Below the belt, I was throbbing, painfully hard, caught in a desperate, obsessive curiosity about what was about to happen. If this were a video, I would have skipped straight to the climax. But this was real life—an unskippable, unpredictable, live performance. My mind was racing: What’s next? What is he going to do to her?
The man, a giant of a guy, commanded, "Ma'am... take off my pants."
My wife, Ma Hethi, remained silent. She fumbled with the buttons, then slid the zipper down. As the trousers fell, a thick, black, seven-inch monstrosity was revealed. Even flaccid, it was massive. Looking at that, I knew with gut-wrenching certainty that if he used that on her, she would never be the same again.
Have I made a terrible mistake?
But as my wife had insisted, there was no turning back now. Tears welled up in my eyes, yet my own erection remained rigid, cold and unyielding like a steel rod. Compared to his, my own member felt pathetic—no bigger than a pen. The surge of inferiority was crushing, but seeing the woman I loved being subjected to a stranger's whims stripped away my sadness, replacing it with a twisted, scorching lust.
I admit it—the thought of that massive thing filling my wife made my hands tremble uncontrollably. I had to stifle my heavy, ragged breathing, terrified that the stranger would hear me. Sweat dripped from my forehead to the floor.
Then, the sound of his trousers hitting the floor echoed in the room. "It’s over," I thought. My heart ached, but my curiosity was a drug I couldn't quit.
What will she look like with that? Is she going to give him a blowjob—something she never once did for me?
I had never mentioned it before, but in all our years of marriage, she had always refused to give me oral sex, claiming she was "grossed out" by it. I had respected her boundaries, never pushing the issue. But now, the realization hit me like a physical blow: she was preparing to give him the very thing she had denied me.
She’s ready to do it for him? What about me?
Pre-cum dripped from my tip, forming a trail on the floor. I didn't dare touch myself; I knew if I did, the friction would bring me to an instant, premature climax. I couldn't let it end here. I had to refocus.
"What are you staring at? Have you never seen something this big? Go on, Ma'am... use your hands and stroke it," he teased.
"I’m not going to force a married woman," he added with a wicked smirk. "Only do it if you want to."
My wife didn't say a word. With a flush of shyness, she looked at him and whispered, "Could you... could you give me a moment to close the door?"
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