*****

Part 3…

When the doorbell rang, Brooke jumped up to let them in, betraying an excitement I hadn’t noticed during our preparations.

“Welcome! Hi Allie and Timothy, so glad you could make it. Please, come in. Allie, I have nice crisp Sauvignon Blanc chilled – I’d love to share some with you if it’s not too early.”

“Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right?” she quipped.

Allie put an arm around her and led them to the living room. On her way there, Brooke asked,

“Bill, why don’t you and Timothy fetch us that bottle and two glasses, won’t you, dear? And get yourselves something as well.”

“Yes, dear,” I said. It struck me as cliché when I heard myself say it; it wasn’t something I would normally say, and it made me wonder if I was subconsciously falling into some new role.

Timothy followed me into the kitchen, where I retrieved the wine from the fridge, then, over my shoulder, asked,

“How ’bout a beer, Timothy?”

“You’re allowed to do that?” He asked, sounding somewhat aghast.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… drink whenever you want?”

“Heh. Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“Allie would have my…”

He tailed off and swallowed the rest of his words, but unbidden, my brain supplied the next word – ass. Then I wondered, or would it have been “balls?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her I pushed you into it. I hope Stella will be okay.”

“Ha! Yeah, you bet! Thanks, Bill. You do go by Bill, right? I mean, I don’t mean to be overly familiar.”

I handed him the wine bottle and his beer, then snagged my own beer and the two glasses.

“Yeah… Bill’s fine,” I told him, then gave a head-tilt to indicate we make our way back to the wives. On our way, I lowered my voice to confide,

“Although today you might hear me referred to otherwise, those are private names. In public, I’m always Bill, unless it’s business, when it’s William.”

“Cool. Thanks for the beer, Bill.”

When we entered to room, the ladies were discussing something in hushed tones. As I set their glasses on the coffee table, Brooke took the wine bottle from Timothy and filled them while regaling Allie with her discovery of this particular wine during a recent vineyard tour. Vintages and appellations holding little interest for me, I took the opportunity to inspect our female guest discreetly.

Allie was a looker, to be sure; tall, blonde, and stacked—trophy wife material. The contrast between her and her husband bordered on the absurd. Anyone who saw them together would naturally assume he was rich. If you assured them he wasn’t, they’d have to assume he was hung; despite the fact that this Don Knotts type sporting a horse cock was just too incongruous to contemplate seriously. How he snagged her was beyond me. Allie addressed us all with a comment clearly meant for Timothy’s benefit.

“Well, well; it looks like Timothy is cutting loose today. What have you got there, baby?”

Allie gave her husband a challenging look that seemed to hold him in its grip, and I began to panic, searching for something to offer in his defense, beyond my brash promise to take the blame. And my trepidation over what that might buy me. I was still grasping at straws when Timothy’s guilty reply came, sounding preemptively repentant.

“Bill and I are having Stella Artois.”

He didn’t even have to add “Is that ok?”, you could hear it just the same. Allie deflated my ballooning concerns as her stern visage gave way to an icy smile.

“It’s a big day for Timmy. This calls for a toast!”

Raising her glass, she offered,

“To new friends.”

“And to sharing,” added Brooke.

With a hearty “Here-here!” from Allie, we clinked glasses and drank. I glanced at Timothy, noting his relief that Allie had allowed the infraction to go unpunished.

In a tentative voice, Allie broke the ice with delicate precision,

“So, Allie, tell me, how did an unlikely couple like you two end up together?”

“You don’t have to mince words, Brooke. You mean, how did an unassuming little guy like Timothy end up with a hottie like me? It’s ok, we’re both aware of how we present to the public, and we’re comfortable with who we are. I always knew the things I wanted in life would be next to impossible to find in a single man, but easy to achieve with two. I wanted a husband who could not only provide for us but also do things no real man would allow. In short, I married Timothy because he’s dependable. Whenever my pussy is full of cum, I can depend on him to lick it clean. And I mean whenever.”

“Wow, so that started before you were even married?”

Brooke stated it like a fact she needed to hear again, just to let it sink in. To which Allie added,

“Honey, that started before I even let him penetrate me.”

They both laughed at that, and I looked to Timothy again, somewhat surprised to hear that such a thing had ever been allowed. I saw him recalling that time, and by his wistful look, it must have been a very distant memory.

“The way Timmy devours my pussy when I come home to him is amazing. Not only does he clean my used pussy thoroughly, but he also always keeps going until I cum. He often gives me multiple orgasms with his tongue, it’s as if he thinks it’s some kind of competition; that he might win me back if he can make me come harder and more often than my bull. I don’t have the heart to tell him that it will never happen. Come to think of it, I don’t have the motivation either.”

They laughed again, and I was starting to feel cruel to myself, the way the stories all exposed Timothy, and their laughs were all at his expense. Allie continued,

“Timmy has developed a strong appetite for cum. So much so that he even likes it when my bull fucks me in our bed without being allowed to watch. He’s just grateful he gets to suck it out of the sheets afterward.”

That one did it — he actually blushed! Amazing that after so many years of being cucked, he still had the capacity to be embarrassed at such a simple act enjoyed in private. Once I thought about it, I could see how he might consider service to others as more legitimate than a shameful act he performed alone, driven solely by his own craven desire. Identifying with the perversions of a fellow cuckold was new to me, and I now saw how different I was from that husband who once got excited over his wife watching soft-core porn.

Brooke offered, “Things happened slower for me and Bill; it just seemed to evolve naturally.” Brooke seemed to be thinking aloud, as if feeling the need to offer some balance to the sharing.

“At least it started slower, but once he let himself try, Bill really took to it. The first time he had a cock in his mouth, it was a simple cleaning, and he didn’t particularly want to do it. But he understood that my bull needed to see it. He wanted Derrick to know that he understood who the man was. And I suspect Bill wanted me to see it, too. By the second time, he not only sucked with no pretense that a cleaning was required, he also throated Derrick’s entire eight inches, then he let himself get face-fucked, and he swallowed the entire load. By the 3rd time, he begged me to let him clean Derrick’s cock.”

“Ahhh, an enthusiastic cock sucker and a quick learner. Nice.”

Allie assessed me anew as she commented, giving me an uncanny feeling, like I was standing naked on an auction block. It certainly diminished whatever sympathy I had been feeling for Timothy.

Picking up where she left off, Allie told us, “It was quite different for Timothy. By the time we allowed him into the room with us, he had already swallowed more of my bull’s cum than I had. He didn’t take to other things quite as readily; perhaps I scared him a bit, I don’t know. I did lay it all out for him in pretty stark terms. I remember I told him,

‘First, he wants to fuck me in front of you while you watch. Next, he’s going to want you to suck his dick in front of me. I want that too. Do you want it? No? Do you want me to make you do it? Or would you rather he make you?’ You remember that, don’t you, Tim?”

“Yes.” He hung his head, avoiding our eyes.

“Well, tell them what you told me back then.”

“I-I said I wanted you to force me.”

“That’s right, you did. And why was that?”

“Because I was afraid of our bull”, he confessed.

“Yes, our first bull was fairly stern. I confess – it turned me on at the time, seeing how he dominated poor Timmy. That’s something I’ve grown out of. I think I let things get a little carried away early on, but we all have lessons to learn. Experience may be the most effective teacher, but there’s a lot to be said for benefitting from the experience of others.

For instance, I know you and Bill have a very different relationship than Timothy and me, but what I’d love to hear more about is how our respective relationships align with our cuckolding choices.”

Brooke smiled at that and said,

“I appreciate your delicate choice of words, Allie, but I was looking forward to letting my hair down today. Most of my questions for you are… of a similar nature. I propose we send the boys off so we can have a little girl talk.”

“A splendid idea!”

“Good. Bill, please take Timothy to the guest bedroom, and you two can get acquainted while we share trade secrets.”

Allie followed up, “Yes, Timothy, do be a dear and run along. We’ll holler if we need you.”

It was subtle, but it struck me as a haughty dismissal. Brooke dangling the notion that there were trade secrets to which only cuckoldresses were privy, that was one thing. There couldn’t really be such things, could there? Meanwhile, Allie’s comment seemed intended to imply that we were simply not needed.

I led Timothy to the guestroom, briefly wondering whether I should try to snag two more beers for our retreat, but mine was still nearly full, and I was fairly sure Timothy was even more of a lightweight than I was, in terms of both body fat and tolerance. When we got behind closed doors, I said,

“Look, Timothy, I actually do want to get to know you better, but right now I’m more interested in what’s going on downstairs. What do you say we sneak back and eavesdrop? I know for a fact we’ll be able to hear a lot of what’s said in conversational tones.”

“Geez, Bill, you’re a lot braver than I am!”

“Hey man, don’t sell yourself short.” I honestly thought he could use the ego boost, but I was pretty sure my boldness had less to do with bravery and more to do with the potential consequences each of us faced.

I didn’t want to say it, but even I knew that a lot of submissives are subjected to corporal punishment. It wasn’t something that had ever been considered by Brooke (so far as I knew), but that didn’t mean I hadn’t watched my share of spanking porn, particularly the bare-ass OTK variety. I confess, the mental image of timid little Timmy lying across the lap of the physically imposing Allie made my stomach lurch reflexively, particularly as I imagined her in various stages of undress and him in various states of distress.

“Just follow me,” I said, “and don’t make a sound.”

I eased the door open and crept down the hall, stopping at the corner of the steps to sit on the floor against the wall, indicating a spot at my side, proximity being at a premium. Timothy sat down so close that our butts were touching. I did my best to ignore it, but I felt an unintentional stirring in my pelvis.

As the voices filtered up from below, I caught the tail end of something Brooke had asked, having to do with how Timothy took being cut off from normal sex. I caught all of Allie’s answers.

“Well, I stopped letting Timothy inside my pussy as soon as I started seeing my first bull. After that, he began to pester me to let him poke me in the butt, trying to convince me his little thing was the perfect size for anal. I knew it would never do much for me, even in my virgin poop chute. And even if it felt good, he never would’ve lasted long enough. Anyway, one day I became so exasperated with his whining, I told him, ‘Timmy, I’ve got to hand it to you, I never thought I’d want to get fucked in the ass. But you’ve pestered me so hard, begged me for so long, you’ve broken my will — you’ve convinced me. If you want it that bad, it must be good. So, I’ve decided. I’m going to relent and give up my ass… to him.’ You should have seen the look on his face!”

Both girls laughed out loud, and I looked at Tim, thinking, man, I’m sorry, dude. I leaned in his ear and whispered,

“Hey, we don’t need to hear any more of this. Let’s go back.”

He gave me a grateful nod and silently retreated to the guestroom with me on his heels.

As soon as I got the door closed behind us, I told Tim,

“That wasn’t at all what I expected. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t let it bother you too much. It’s not the first time I’ve been humiliated in front of strangers. Sometimes I even like it, weirdly.”

That floored me. “Pardon me being blunt, but what the fuck?”

“What, you can’t imagine being proud and humiliated at the same time? Wait until your wife makes you suck a cock in front of her and her friends. You’ll feel proud of yourself for doing what she wants, for making her happy. And for letting her show off her power over you. And you’ll feel humiliated knowing her friends, who once saw you as a man, watched you submit to another man, who used your mouth to get off into.”

“Jeezus dude, you have a way with words, don’t you?”

“Ha! I think you’d be amazed at some of the stories I could tell.”

“I’d love to hear them, but I’m more interested in getting your perspective on the kind of things I’ve done myself, or what might be on the horizon for me. There’s so much I want to know. Like, how certain things are for you, I mean, if they’re the same as they are for me, or if I’m just weird. I’m rambling, I know; I’m so new to this, compared to you.”

“That makes perfect sense to me. Where do you want to start?”

Not having expected to get here so quick, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Can we talk about… eating bull cum?”

“Uh, probably for an hour or two! Care to narrow that down?”

“Okay, see… I have this intense need to eat our bull’s cum. I worship his cock and crave every opportunity to demonstrate my subservience to it, and the epitome, for me, is to consume his ejaculate. It’s a privilege and an honor to eat the cum from such a magnificent cock.”

“I feel you, buddy, well said.”

“Good. Now, my goal is always to eat it all, right? And after our bull gives her a cream pie, I always want to dive in there and start eating right away. And if it’s overflowing, that’s just what I do. But when it’s deep inside her and she can hold it, I always turn to the cock, because if it’s dripping, I have this desperate desire to catch every drop and lick it clean before it goes to waste. I always worry that my wife might get the wrong idea about what I prefer—she has no idea how special their cocktail is. Or maybe she resents me stealing it from her, because she gets to taste it off his cock just like I do, and I know she loves it.”

“I take it you don’t feel comfortable talking to her about it?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know why, except that I decided early on to be a good passenger on this journey, and not a backseat driver. I leave all that up to her. I guess that means I’m in a Female Led Relationship, even though that’s not how it started, and we’ve never talked about it. There’s a lot we don’t talk about because of that one decision.”

“That sounds heavy, but if I can just address your initial question, you started off saying something about your goal being to always eat all your bull’s cum. That’s my goal too, but it’s not an issue, because it’s my wife’s goal as well. See, she never cared for semen, so I’m not stealing it from anyone. I want to eat it all, and she never wants to eat any—works out perfectly! In fact, even when we were dating, she never once let me come in her mouth, but she lets her bull do it whenever he wants, because she knows she can just turn around and spit it into my mouth. She calls it ‘the second most efficient way to get his cum into my mouth’.”

“That’s cool,” I said. I was squeezing my dick through my pants while I listened to Tim’s story. I was sure he noticed, but he said nothing. It made things oddly hotter, as if he was letting me get away with something.

“I think so too. But let me ask you something. How often are you let out of your cage? I’m free now, but for me, this is an incredibly rare event. It’s how I first knew how special this is for my wife; and consequently, for me.”

“Eww, sorry; I just… I never considered that kind of… I mean, I guess I’ve been lucky.”

I actually found myself looking down to avoid his gaze, unsure of exactly why. It was embarrassment, of that I was sure, but it seemed to be over my own good fortune; a bizarrely alien guise for such a familiar feeling. I knew I owed him details.

“I’m free almost all the time. I only wear my cage when Derrick is here. A lot of nights he stays over, so I’m pretty accustomed to sleeping in it, but I hardly ever spend more than 12 hours or so at a time in it.”

“God, I can’t even remember a time like that! Once again, you seem to be the lucky one. Although I will say, it’s probably not as one-sided as you might think. I’ve grown increasingly comfortable in chastity, and I don’t just mean physically. I find it emotionally comforting as well. Just knowing that there is no possibility of an awkward arousal in public is a comfort. It allows me to interact with women — even beautiful ones — appropriately. It reminds me that I’m safely locked away; that no one can take advantage of me, and my involvement in sexual situations will not be misconstrued. I like that my role is clear and accepted. I even like it when Allie and I go out in public and she tells people I’m wearing it. A few curious women have asked if they can see or touch it, and Allie always finds a way to make that happen. I actually love that part.”

When he finished, I became aware that I was back at it again, unconsciously toying with my dick, rhythmically squeezing it between finger and thumb. I immediately halted the motion and tried to look nonchalant. I kept my hand in place, fearing the withdrawal would give me away. When I looked back at Tim, he was staring directly at my frozen hand. As he looked up at me, a warm smile spread across his face.

“It’s okay, go for it; as long as I get to do the same if the spirit moves me.”

“I… I just… ooookay, ‘ya caught me. I can’t help it! Talking about this stuff gets me going. I’m a very verbal person.”

“And…?” he prodded.

“And what?”

“And I get to do the same?”

“Oh, hell, yes! Please, be my guest!” I let out a little laugh, hoping to ease the tension a bit.

“In fact, that’s exactly what I am!”

Once I got it, I laughed out loud as Tim joined in, and the tension of unfamiliarity drained away.

“Let me ask you something else,” Tim said. “What do you like best about being a cuck?”

“Oooo, that’s a tough one,” I remarked, buying time while I recalled the experiences I most often replayed in my head. “I like it all, because it’s all humiliating to varying degrees, and I love feeling humiliated. I guess my deepest humiliations are the most intense, but I’d have to say I most enjoy the humiliations I can share with Brooke. When I’m doing something that turns us both on, it makes it twice as good.”

“And what do you do that turns Brooke on the most?” he toyed.

“Oh, that’s easy – sucking cock! I never thought my wife would enjoy watching me submit to another man, hearing him tell me to suck his cock or clean the cum off it, but it’s obvious how much it thrills her. And it never seems to get old.”

“I know what you mean, they do love watching us suck, don’t they? For the longest time, Allie couldn’t contain herself; whenever she saw me with a dick in my mouth, the filthiest words of encouragement would pour out of her mouth. She usually manages to control herself nowadays, but I can tell it still gets her wet every time. Her eyes always burn a little brighter whenever she’s watching me suck cock.

That said, my particular experience has been different. You were spot-on in it being about the husband submitting to another man. But the greatest act of submission Allie sees me perform is when she watches me taking it in the ass from another man.”

“Fuuucck!” I breathed out. “Aw shit!” My dick was hard in my pants, and I had to exert some serious willpower to keep from pulling it out. I’m not sure why I resisted; I can only attribute it to shyness. Odd, given that I had no such reservations around Derrick. But then, it really wasn’t fair to Tim to compare him to Derrick. I repositioned my dick and tried once more to leave it alone.

“Alright, time for me to ask some questions. After all, you’re the experienced one around here. How about you tell me about becoming a cuckold? I’ve always wondered how my experience compares to others. How did it happen with you?”

“Let me see, it’s sometimes hard to sift through those early memories and be certain which ones are part of the cuckold lifestyle. They all occurred before I ever heard the term. I don’t know if Allie was aware from the start. I only know she recognized me as a sub before I ever had a label for what I was. I only knew I was different. What I didn’t know was the extent to which a devious-minded woman could exploit that difference. I don’t know if she envisioned the entire path she intended to lead me down, or if she only kept one step ahead of me.

I suppose the milestones that define the cuck experience start with the first time a woman cheats on her man, then the first time the man finds out about it and does nothing to stop it, the first time she brings her bull home, the first time the cuck sees them together, and the first time he participates. Take your pick, they all happened to me in that order, over months. Was there one of them that made me a cuck?”

I was about to say the second — when the man doesn’t stop it. Up until then, it’s just cheating. Still, I’ve heard the term ‘unwitting cuckold’, and people want to carve out the ‘hot wife’ distinction, and it can get a bit confusing at times. I was still contemplating my answer when Tim continued,

“Personally, I favor the first time she brings her bull home. And I mean literally, not simply the first time the cuck meets the bull. It has to be the bull in the cuck’s home. You see, I’m something of a linguist, specifically etymology – the origin of words. The term cuckold has drifted from its origin in nature, but the notion of the sacred nest being violated resonates deeply with me. I don’t know – does that answer your question?”

“I guess, but I wonder if that progression you described is always the way it goes. Does the woman lead her cuck down essentially the same path, even if the order of things is sometimes switched around?”

“From what I’ve seen, I’m hard-pressed to state any absolutes. There is no script for becoming a cuck. There are too many influencing factors, and they’re as varied as the human condition. Mainly the condition of two people, since the bull’s interests rarely enter in until the relationship has been cemented.”

“I guess you’ve seen a few examples, huh?” I had little Idea what I was saying, I just knew I wanted him to keep talking, if only to get more jerk-off material.

“You could say that,” Tim chuckled. “I’ve heard a few first-hand and I’ve participated in a few more. Each one was very different. Check out how it started for this guy…”

With that, he pulled out his phone, gave it a few swipes and taps, and handed it to me. He had brought up a video that was paused on a close-up of a short guy with a slim build and a milquetoast face. He was slightly to the right of the camera.

“Allie had me record this without this guy’s consent, but I could tell he knew what I was doing and didn’t seem to mind. Since then, a lot of people have seen it, some of them in his presence.”

I hit start, and the guy barely moved, but it quickly became clear he was listening to a woman who was speaking.

“You don’t know it, but you’re what I call a pre-cuck. Guys like you always think you’re the ones who suffer the torment of your secret, the agony of whether to admit it to your wife. You don’t realize how many wives know, and just wish you’d come out with it already.”

The voice was clearly Allie’s, and the guy she was talking to appeared taken aback and chastised, as if he were starting to question something he had previously thought settled. She went on,

“She wants to tell you the truth. She hates having to lie to you. But you need to be the one who starts the conversation.”

The guy shifted uncomfortably at her challenge, squirming in his skin; clearly wanting to escape the subject, if not from this woman entirely. She was relentless in her onslaught.

“Why do you think so many women cheat? It’s because they need a real cock more than they need to be honest about it. Trust me, I know what your wife is going through. Take the weight off her shoulders. Let her know it’s what you want. Tell her you’re okay with it. She’ll love you even more. I’ve seen it, I know. Your wife’s tired of pretending. She doesn’t need you to keep apologizing. She needs you to admit reality and start making it up to her.”

I was captivated by her voice and blown away by the rapier sting of her message. The poor guy being schooled looked like he’d just been told that life as he knew it was over.

“That was… I don’t know, but it was intense!” I exclaimed. “What happened with them?”

“He came clean with his wife, just like Allie suggested, and he was cucked within a month. It only took that long because his wife didn’t believe him the first few times he told her.”

Have you got more like that?”

“No, not like that,” he chuckled. “But I do have a growing library of videos that may prove helpful going forward. I can tell you want more. Let’s make it a challenge. You describe something you think I might have on my phone, and if you’re close enough, I’ll play it for you.”

“And if I’m wrong?”

“Then you’ve got to share something with me. Maybe I can catch up with you.”

I knew he was referring to my state of arousal, but it was sufficiently veiled to overlook. There wasn’t really a losing side, so I decided to take him up on it.

“Okay, you’re on.”

Thinking about how we had already identified the common ground of sucking bulls, I figured that would be a likely subject to appear in videos he thought worth saving.

“I’ll bet you have a video of you sucking cock.”

“C’mon, I mean, of course I do! I think you need to be a little more specific than that. Gimme something more.”

“Uuhhhh, okay, how about the guy you’re sucking is talking dirty to you.”

“There ya go! And I’ve definitely got that!”

He grabbed his phone and started flipping through files in search of it. While pulling it up, his preamble revealed a note of apprehension.

“You know, this video… it isn’t exactly something I’m proud of. I guess you can understand. I didn’t take it, but I knew the camera was there. I was just in one of those headspaces, you know?”

I did know, not about being in a video, about being in that headspace. I wanted nothing more than to ease his mind.

Hey, I do know. Hell, I’ve done stuff I wouldn’t ever want anyone to see, believe me. I don’t want this to be weird. I mean, sexy games are one thing, but…”

“No, no…” he interrupted, “you called it, you should get to enjoy it. At least you’re someone who can really appreciate it. And truth be told, I’ll enjoy watching it again, too. I always do; it’s why I keep it on my phone.”

“Alright, let’s get comfortable and watch it together.”

We shifted from our casual seats on the bed to leaning against the headboard, arranging the pillows around us, knees up, phone propped between our thighs. It felt like sharing a secret. I liked it.

The video looked like it was taken years ago. Tim was clearly recognizable in the opening frame, although his hair was longer and he was noticeably younger. He was kneeling in front of a man who was fully dressed, although what could be seen of Tim’s upper torso was nude.

The man appeared to be older than Tim, with a bushy mustache and a barrel chest. His thick arms and meaty hands were carpeted in curly black hair. He might have been of Italian descent, or maybe Persian, or, who knows. Whatever, he was a bear of a man. I commented,

“He’s kinda scary.”

“I know, right? Even after I got to know him, he still made me a little nervous.”

Tim hit play, and his younger self reached out for the man’s belt.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he said in a resonant baritone, “ask permission.”

The on-screen Tim complied, “Please, sir, may I take out your cock, sir?”

“You may, boy. Go ahead – unwrap your present.”

Young Tim made quick work of the man’s fastenings and pulled down his pants; his adeptness revealed this was not his debut performance at the feet of a man. The man ran his fingers through Tim’s hair and spoke to him,

“How do you like that bulge, boy? Looks to me like you’re already fascinated. Such a pretty young face. You’re a very cute boy, you know that? Why don’t you drop your pants first, boy, so I can see just how little a boy you are?”

The Tim beside me watched his younger self reluctantly comply, urged on by the man’s murmured appreciation over the unintended build-up. The shot was above the waist, and I assumed there was no camera operator because it begged for a pan down or a pan out. As it was, the fixed frame still captured Tim’s mortification as he exposed himself to the man.

Years of online porn have prepared me to expect derisive laughter from such men. Instead, he let out a “eeuuugh” kind of grunt and, in a voice dripping with pity, said,

“Jeezus, did you ever get short-changed. I’ve seen bigger on newborns. You just completely missed out on a growth gene, didn’t you?”

Young Tim only winced slightly at the comment; apparently, it wasn’t the first time he had been subjected to casual cruelty. Young Tim wasn’t that young; in fact, I’d guess he was pushing thirty in the vid, but he did have the kind of tender features that allowed the man to indulge his fantasy. Young Tim played along by flashing an innocent smile at the burly older man while tugging his underwear down over hairy tree-trunk thighs. The cock that was revealed was dark in color, befitting the man’s olive complexion. It was soft, uncircumcised, fatter than it was long, and partially hidden in a dense growth of black hair. It looked like a fire hydrant in a weed-choked field.

“That’s it, boy; have a good look. That’s the adult version of the miniature you’re stuck with. You know, if those pubes of yours keep growing, maybe someday they’ll completely hide that little worm, and you’ll look like a girl. A flat-chested one, sure, but I’ve seen plenty with not much more. Abuse those nipples for a while and you’ll get them to where they can excite plenty of men who go for boys like you.”

On-screen Tim betrayed no reaction, but my bed-buddy’s hand was surreptitiously moving now, albeit covering little territory.

“Go ahead, boy, we both know you want it. Put it in your mouth, son.”

Tim was sitting so close that my right side was in full contact with his left, and the shudder that ran through him at those words was obvious. I wanted to stroke myself, but my trusty right hand was pinned between us. Extricating it would have upset our viewing, so I snuck my left hand onto my bulge, hoping to make do. It occurred to me that Tim had his right hand moving on his own crotch, a wistful smile on his face, his hand moving slowly. I wondered if he was left-handed. Perhaps we should switch? Meanwhile, the on-screen Tim obeyed the man with obvious pleasure and had successfully engulfed the flaccid, hooded nozzle in his mouth.

“Don’t stop there, boy. Your lips are barely touching my pubes. Push them in deep, boy. There’s another inch hiding in there. Keep pushing down until your lips are pressed hard against my body. I want you to know what it’s like to have my whole cock in your mouth before you can no longer. Yeah, that’s right; all the way down.”

Sure enough, Tim’s lips disappeared amongst the wild undergrowth, and his chin mashed into the man’s ball sack, his chin pushing the balls apart until one rested alongside each cheek.

“Yeah,” he exhaled in satisfaction. “You’ve got it all now. Now, stay down on it and push your tongue out. Lick my hairy balls while you hold my cock in your mouth. No more swallowing for you until I say so. You just let all that saliva bathe my cock, and when it gets to be too much, you let it slide off your tongue and coat my balls. You’re going to want to get those balls nice and wet. Make ’em more fun to play with, once you can no longer fit my cock in your mouth.

You know you got a small mouth, doncha boy? I’m a grower, you know what that is, right? I’ll bet you’re starting to feel that about now, aren’t you? Try to stay down on it as long as you can. I want to see if you choke on the length before the girth forces you off it.”

We watched young Tim lick those hairy balls until they glistened with spit, and the hair was plastered against the man’s nut sack.

“That’s it, take it like a good little boy,” he said, as he held Tim’s head down, the cock pushing into his throat. “I’ll bet you like being called a good boy, don’t you? How’d you feel when you were young, and your mommy called you a good boy?”

I stole a glance at Tim and saw that his expression had radically changed. His cheeks were flushed, and his smile was gone. His brows were knotting with anticipation. On-screen, Tim forced out a faint reply,

“I felt… loved.”

“And how about when your daddy called you that?”

“I… I don’t think he ever did,” young Tim answered.

“I’ll bet you would have liked to have heard that, though,” he teased. “I’ll bet you still would. I’ll bet you’d like it if I called you that, wouldn’t you? How about this… You call me daddy, and I’ll tell you you’re a good boy. Hell, I’ll tell you anything you need to hear.”

At that, the man chuckled, and his cock was unceremoniously ejected. It hung down heavily as it bobbed and dripped, not yet fully hard, but ridiculously thick. I could tell from Tim’s expression that it had been a challenge to avoid his teeth scraping the bulbous head on the way out.

“What do you know, no gagging! Too bad that mouth hole isn’t wider. I’d love to see my big fat cock bulging that slender young throat of yours. I’ll bet you’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

The man sighed as he patted Tim’s head. “Good boy,” was all he said. The Tim at my side was moving his hand now, and I’m pretty sure I detected a faint whimper in his long exhale. On-screen, young Tim just smiled up at the man as he continued to stoke the fire.

“This is what you prepared me for. Now get those slimy balls into your mouth and make ’em feel good. Show me you know how to roll ’em around the way I like, while I jerk my cock over your face.”

At that, the Tim beside me unzipped and reached his hand into his fly. He didn’t pull out his dick; he just buried his hand in his pants; the flexing of wrist tendons was the only indication that something was going on in there.

“I’m gonna nut into your mouth and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, aren’t you, boy? You’re gonna eat my nut and thank your daddy, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes! I want it so bad, Daddy! Give me your load!”

“Easy, boy; we’ll get there. Right now, my balls are feeling too good to let you stop. You just keep workin’ those nuts, while I think about how pretty your face is gonna look covered in my ball juice. You know we’re on camera, right? Why don’t you look at all the nice folks who have watched this over the years? If you’re lucky and it stays off the internet, at least most of the people who see it will know you, so you’ve got that going for you. That way, once they’ve seen it, you can always try to convince them I made you do it. But they’re going to know. Christ, it’s all over your face! You love cock, and in a few minutes, they’re all gonna see how much you love cum. And that’s who they’ll see from now on, every time they look at you.”

I had to look at him after that, as he knew I would. I whispered a quick “At least you don’t have to lie to me.”

Meanwhile, the man’s breathing was increasing as he announced,

“I’m gettin’ ready to nut, boy. I’m gonna stroke into your mouth to start with, and when I pull out, you’re gonna hold what I gave you while I finish on your face. You don’t move until I squeeze out the last drop, understand, boy?”

Young Tim nodded a muffled “Hmmmhmmm” into the man’s scrotum, obviously on board with whatever the man wanted to do.

“Look into that lens and tell all the nice people out there what you are. Tell them you’re a cock-sucking, cum-eating little beta boy. Go ahead, tell them!”

“I’m a cock-sucking, cum-eating little beta boy.”

It was simple repetition, but young Tim became excited hearing the words leaving his own mouth, and he finished with a shiver. With overwhelming inspiration, he looked back up to the man and launched into free-style begging.

“Please, daddy, your boy wants his daddy’s cum. Give me your cum, daddy. Please give me that daddy cum! Please, daddieee!”

All the man said in response was

“Time for you to conform your lips to the head of my dick.”

Young Tim nodded obediently and let the slimy chicken egg slip from his mouth. Rising on his knees, his lips embraced and covered the cap of the rigid fire hydrant that was about to erupt. The man put both his meaty hands on Tim’s head.

“Time to do your job, boy. You’re a cum eater; you told everyone out there that’s what you are. Now prove it, boy, show them! Take all my cum! Uuughhh! Hold it, boy!!! Rrrrggghhhh!!! Unnng!”

With three loads pumped in, the man slipped his cockhead off Tim’s pursed lips and delivered the remaining ooze onto his grateful face.

“Mmmm, look at that pretty little face, all covered in my spooge. What a good little boy!

Wiping the last droplet onto Tim’s nose, he said

“Now show me.”

Tim complied, pushing the pool to the front and sloshing his tongue back and forth through the slop like a circling dorsal fin in a slimy little lagoon.

“Good boy. Now swallow.”

It took three tries, but he got it all down and did nothing to hide his profound satisfaction. He looked up at the man and timidly asked,

“Would you spit in my mouth, daddy? Pleeeaaase!”

The man showed no surprise at the outrageous request and readily leaned over the boy’s needy, open mouth like a bird feeding a fledgling in the nest. He released a thick strand of saliva that extended toward Tim’s gaping maw, held together by sheer viscosity. A part of me was appalled, but another part hardened until I could no longer bear it. I broke my right arm free, upsetting the phone in the process. It landed on the bed as it continued to play, the audio consisting mainly of baritone laughter.

I ripped off my jeans in record time, rising onto my knees, brandishing my erect penis, surrendering to the overwhelming urge to tug it. Tim looked me straight in the eye, equally enflamed.

“Whoa! I guess you liked it!”

“More,” I said, having a hard time with words all of a sudden. “Is there more?”

“Oh, there’s more. But I’m in no condition to go searching for it now.”

By way of explanation, he slid down the headboard and pushed down his pants and underwear together. The tiny bald thing that he exposed took me aback. I’d only seen ones that small online. I knew the term — micro-penis; I just always passed it off as one of those freakish medical conditions that were so rare you wouldn’t actually encounter one in real life.

When I had exposed myself seconds ago, I wanted Tim to see my dick at its biggest, so he’d know that even fully hard, I had nothing to be proud of. And yet for some reason, at the time, I had felt proud. Proud of how pathetic I thought I was. Little did I know. His little thing was hard, but it couldn’t have been more than two inches. And the girth was like… my thumb. In fact, the whole thing resembled nothing so much as a thumb resting on a hacky sack. Tim saw me looking; my face must have betrayed my initial shock. I could only hope my current feelings of sympathy were apparent as well.

Whatever my reaction, Tim seemed to accept it, not letting it distract him from his mission. He dexterously manipulated his little erection between thumb and forefinger while excitedly asking,

“What part of it did you like the best?”

I knew what he wanted — to engage me in dirty talk so he could catch up to me. I knew that was a game I could play.

“That’s easy”, I answered. “All that ‘good boy’ stuff. Every time. I don’t know why, but those words burn into my soul every fucking time I hear them!”

The smile took over Tim’s face completely as he looked down at my dick — my previously small dick — and teased.

“I like seeing you get aroused over my experiences. I have lots of others, and I have a really good memory. I can tell you some, if you’d like.”

I nodded eagerly as I continued to stroke myself. Tim wound himself up further as he went on,

“This is one I’ve told before, I like to tell it. It’s about how I’m allowed to cum. Wanna hear?”

“Yes – please,” I practically pleaded, surprised by my own intensity.

“My wife always watches me when I cum.”

The opening words were delivered in a conspiratorial half-whisper, as if confiding a dark secret.

“I masturbate for her, and she makes sure to witness my orgasm every time.”

He shifted his pelvis to afford me a better view of what he was doing and continued,

“Then she witnesses me consuming it for her. I usually lick it off the shiny black plate she keeps on the nightstand, which I keep clean with my tongue.”

The “nnnnghh” escaped me without warning as his words sent electric tingles up and down my spine. I increased my wanking and saw that Tim was keeping a similar pace.

“She prefers me to ruin my orgasm, so I do. On the rare occasion when she allows me a complete orgasm, it’s always a reward for something extra submissive or humiliating that I did to please her. “Above and beyond” stuff. Only on those occasions do I manage to drain my balls completely. The irony isn’t lost on me… when I am the least horny is when I’m faced with the largest volume of semen to eat.”

“But you still eat it, don’t you, Tim?” I didn’t want to disrupt his flow, but I was getting off on egging him on.

“Timmy eats it, Bill. Timmy eats it all… like a good little boy!”

“Aww fuuucck!” I moaned, perilously close to the edge.

“When we’re not at home, like now, the usual way I’m allowed to cum is by kneeling in front of her and jacking off into my hand, just like I’m doing now. I’m not allowed to cum without being watched, but you’re watching me, so hopefully it’s okay. Of course, I still have to eat my cum, all of it. What I don’t catch in my hand, I have to eat off the ground. I’m proud of how good I’ve gotten at catching it all in my hand.”

Timmy’s thumb and finger were a confusion of tugging and flipping that he brought under control only when he cradled a cupped hand beneath the tiny purple tip of little Tim Thumb. I mimicked his posture, pointing what I now laughably thought of as my big dick into my own hand. We came together into our respective palms, our eyes locked.

I finished first and looked down at Tim in time to see him coax out his last drop of semen, not with a finger pushed along the length, but by rolling his softening nub between thumb and index. He noticed me watching and, wordlessly, lowered his head to the pool in his hand and commenced eating. Without hesitation, I did the same with my own.

There was no shame in the act; it was something we were accustomed to. We consumed our spend as a matter of course, the act itself holding little power when shared between cucks; nonetheless, we still watched each other appreciatively. When we pulled our pants back up and got comfortable again, it was no different than if we had just finished playing a video game together. Conversation flowed just as naturally, perhaps even benefiting from our increased familiarity. The only thing that felt weird to me was courtesy of a random thought from Tim.

“I don’t know about you, but given where our conversation led us, I can only imagine what our wives are up to about now.”

From the start, it had seemed simple: Brooke sought to benefit from a friend’s experience, someone with similar interests. It never occurred to me that it could lead to them being friends with benefits. But if a couple of guys with as little agency over our own bodies as we can… well, they could be up to just about anything out there.

With that brain worm firmly planted in my head, I had a hard time staying engaged in the conversation. I know the topic was bulls—specifically the six Tim had gotten to know—when a few perfunctory raps on the door were followed by our wives breezing into the room. Given what we had been up to recently, the fact that they had allowed us no time to respond to their knock was unsettling.

“Well, have you boys been getting along?” asked Allie.

Once again allowing no time to respond, Brooke added,

“Yeah, what have you two reprobates been getting up to anyway? Allie and I have been having a great time telling tales out of school. Although I seriously doubt it’s anything we’ll get in trouble for.”

They had a good laugh, distracting them from noticing the fleeting blushes and our avoidance of eye contact. Tim beat me to the punch with a covering reply,

“No confidences revealed here, we’ve just been comparing notes on some of our… shared enjoyment of life’s pleasures.”

“That sounds wonderful, but it’s time for us to be leaving,” Allie announced.

The “Awwww” that escaped me sounded childish, and I regretted it immediately. I may have been the only one aware of how embarrassing it sounded, but at least Brooke’s consolation was genuine.

“Don’t worry, I have a feeling you’ll be seeing more of each other real soon.”

She obviously knew something we didn’t, but that was not exactly foreign territory for a cuckold, and both Tim and I accepted the information without question. As we accompanied our guests to the door, Brooke offered the traditional parting words,

“This was fun, we should do it again sometime soon.”

They would’ve sounded trite, if not for Allie’s response,

“Yes, but let’s give it a while and see how you two do with that thing we talked about.”

“Yes, that makes sense. I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.”

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