Am I Being Cuckolded?

(MF, wife, cd, cuck) Is my wife cuckolding me? Or is it just my imagination? 

Am I Being Cuckolded?

by Perusan (

I guess my story starts 2 years ago when my wife, Rebecca, got a 3 day part time job for a company based in London. It was a wonderful opportunity for her and it was an exciting time for both of us. However, we live about 100 miles away from London which made it very difficult for her to take the job, but eventually she negotiated a deal where she could work 1 day at home which meant that, to save her a long, difficult and early commute, she would spend 1 night a week in London in a hotel. She was so excited about the job, we both were, that 1 night away seemed just a small sacrifice.

So, for almost 6 months, Rebecca spent 2 days in London and we spent that night apart. For the most part we were okay about that. I know she used to get down about being away from home and I did miss her. But the real truth was that actually I quite looked forward to that night because it meant that I was free to do whatever I wanted. And what I wanted to do was masturbate whilst looking at porn on the internet. 

One night a week freedom to surf and wank in complete comfort. It was great. It was like being a student again before we met. And I took complete advantage of it, pretty much to the point that for a couple of days afterwards I was so warn out that I couldn't get it up. But I used to cover this up quite easily with all sorts of excuses and she never really noticed.

However, she did notice the photos of me dressed up in her clothes when, purely by random chance, she happened to be going through some pictures on my phone. I still can't believe how foolish I was. I have always had a thing about dressing up in women's clothes. Ever since I was 13 I would dress up in my mum's clothes - underwear, dresses, skirts and blouses. It just felt like a very natural thing. But was definitely something I never shared with anyone and I gave it up once Rebecca and I got together. With this new found freedom once a week I was spending a lot of my time online dressed up in Rebecca's clothes. 

God, it was great. It was so sexy. It also led me to have a lot of online chats with men and I found myself really getting into the whole role of being a cocksucking submissive slut. And so that is what led me to take these photos - so I could send them to this guy who wanted to see me all dressed up. What I forgot to do was to delete the photos.

When she found them all hell broke loose. She wanted to know what the hell I was doing, why I was dressing up in her clothes, when I had started, was I seeing someone, was I gay? It almost ended us. It was that close. I told her that it was a one off thing and I confessed to her that I used to do it as a kid and it was a curiosity thing. Which in a way was true. And no, I wasn't gay, which again, basically was true. And that just about got us through it. She told me that she could never cope with me if I was someone who dressed up like that. She told me very clearly that the reason she was with me was because I was a real man and that is what turned her on.

The next few months were quite terrible. She was angry, suspicious, and almost vicious. It took weeks and weeks for me to rebuild any trust she had in me. The clothes I dressed in for the pictures were thrown away and every night she was away I basically was babysat - I couldn't be alone. But, as time went on our relationship moved back to where it had been. Although I made sure I never dressed up again.

A few months later Rebecca said that she had found a cheaper rate at a different hotel, which was great as the hotel bill ate into her wages. It was a good third off. She said that there was someone at work who also had to stay over several nights each week and he had a regular rate at this hotel and he was happy for her to use his login to book a room for herself. 

I told her what a great thing it was, knowing it meant more money for her. Not only that, because he was at the hotel too he could give her a lift to and from work which also saved her the extra parking bill too. And I never once ever considered that this was anything other than a genuine favour from one colleague to another. It was exactly the sort of thing I would offer someone, be they male or female, just to help them out. She even asked me if I thought it was a good idea and I told her emphatically yes.

So life continued as normal. She stayed at this new hotel, and I spent the night wanking on the internet and we both waited several days before I could finally get it up long enough for us to make love. Meanwhile my online cocksucking sissy chat had led me to some cuckolding sites, but I certainly never thought for a moment that Rebecca would cheat on me. Never. It was inconceivable. 

I was reading all these stories about cuckolding, about hot wives, cheating wives, dominant wives and about their husbands. Their weak husbands, under endowed, submissive, cross-dressing, sissy, cocksucking husbands that didn't satisfy their wives. And wow! How I loved those stories. They were exciting, taboo and so close to my own life. Except, of course, for the bit about cheating. Rebecca would never cheat on me.

Why would I worry? She would hold me as we lay in bed and say to me that she didn't want me to leave her, to sleep with another woman. I thought it was a lingering doubt from the revelation of me dressing up, that she just didn't want to lose me. 

And the time she took getting ready for going away for those 2 days. It just seemed a natural thing to do. She would spend at least two hours getting ready to go the night before. A shower, shaved legs, moisturiser, the works. And the clothes she took, I didn't really pay attention to what she was taking with her even though sometimes she would ask me about this outfit or that outfit - all of which were nice and flattering. I supported her in wanting to look good at work. She was my wife and I was proud of her gorgeous looks. And I told her that, often.

And the one time there was an opportunity for me to stay up in London with her it never occurred to me to suspect any ulterior motive for her to suggest that we stay at a slightly better hotel for that week. It all just seemed so natural. 

Until one day I was chatting to an old girlfriend I had met online and I was telling her about my married life and about how my week worked. And also how I had been caught dressing up too. Everything. So when Liz started laughing and couldn't stop I just couldn't work out what I had said. And she couldn't understand why I couldn't see it, how it was staring me straight in the face. That my wife was having an affair.

Well I couldn't believe it. There was no way! Until my friend started pointing it all out to me. The man in the same hotel. So? They were just work colleagues.  How could it be anything else? Yes, they stayed in the same hotel, shared lifts... even shared dinner together... like a couple. The getting ready, had it always been like that? Well no, but really it wasn't that unusual was it? Liz asked if we had a lot of sex and I confessed to her about my indulgence each week and the unfortunate consequences. And again it took at least 5 minutes for her to stop laughing. 

Was I stupid? Was I blind? So how was it now? Did we have a lot of sex? Well, no. not even at the weekends, which I was relieved about in a way because of my paranoia about getting it up after my excesses. The conversation kind of descended into a constant stream of LMFAO.

I wasn't convinced, it was just all coincidence. But I now had a small doubt. The next week I rang her at the hotel on her phone. It was about 10pm and usually she phones me to say goodnight but I thought I would do it this time. The phone rang and rang and just before it went to voice mail she answered. She was surprised. I told her I was thinking of getting an early night. She told me she was too. I asked if she was ok. She sounded a little.... off? distracted? defensive? She was fine, just tired. I told her I loved her. She said "Me too". We said our goodnights. And I couldn't see anything really wrong with any of it. Could I?

The next day, when she got home, I took my boldest step yet and I went through the wash hamper after she had unpacked. As I thought, there was no cum-stained panties. But there was a pair of stockings and she rarely wore stockings. Although the new dress she bought a few weeks ago, well that needed some sort of hose. And sure enough that short dress was also in the hamper. Although I couldn't work out... was that what she wore at work. I thought she had worn another outfit going and she was wearing the same outfit she came back in. I think.

We lay in bed that night and cuddled. And I got more affectionate and started to touch her, but she put her hand on mine. She was tired after all the travelling yesterday. Did I really want to? She put her hand on my cock. Maybe we should wait, maybe I was tired too? She squeezed me cock a little. It did feel a little soft. I agreed even though I hadn't chatted online the night before. I asked her about her night. It was okay, quiet. Did you have dinner with Mike? Yes, and talked about work. Same old same old. You slept well? Yes, but still very tired. Let's get some sleep.

So this is where I am currently. My friend is totally convinced Rebecca is having an affair. I haven't got any proof. Nothing. I have even looked on her phone and in her emails. Nothing. But each week the stockings go up with her. She does have some nice underwear now. And I do see it every now and again, but it equally goes up to London with her just as regularly. My online chats are all cuckolding now. My fantasies of being dressed up in that dress and those stockings and being on my knees sucking Mike's cock are getting more and more intense. 

I constantly see Rebecca as the dominant one in our relationship now and in some ways it is true. I give in to her more easily now and bend over backwards to please her. All the while imagining her bending over backwards with her legs spread and Mike's cock ploughing her pussy. Stupid cocksucking sissy husband. She wants a real man. To give her the fucking she needs. Each and every week. Fucking her deep and hard. Like she needs. Like she deserves. My darling wife. 

It's not true, right? Just my imagination. Just a coincidence. Just a fantasy. Right?