All characters are over 18. This story contains bisexual and cuckolding activity as well as fetishistic name-calling. If you don't enjoy these things, this might not be the story for you.
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Porn seduced me early in life and, even as a married man, it commands part of my loyalty to this day. It happened that I became bored, or maybe just desensitized, to ordinary, mainstream porn, so I started to dabble in fetishes. Cuckold videos were my gateway drug, leading me to cum-eating instruction videos and sissy oral and anal hypnotic trainers. When the fantasy was no longer enough for me, I moved secretly to fulfil my emerging homosexual desires. When one of my dominatrix-narrated sissy hypno trainers challenged me to find and suck a cock within twenty-four hours, I succeeded not only in swallowing the cum of two men (with great satisfaction), but I was also fucked in the ass by one of my candidates. It had been a quick and painful, but surprisingly rewarding, experience and it sent me back to the computer, fixating on the idea of anal sex. Before long, I was ready to give up my ass to another stranger. That led to an encounter, one particular afternoon, in which two black men spit-roasted me to our mutual fulfillment.
Arriving home from that very special, landmark encounter, I had a sore ass and a satisfied smirk. The smile faded quickly as I came face-to-face with my wife, Lynn, who was supposed to be hours away, visiting her sister in Buffalo.
Instead, she was sitting in the middle of the bed wearing only a housecoat; she had obviously just taken a shower. It was also obvious that she had been crying. The bed had no sheet; I had left it in the wash after ejaculating on it during an intense masturbation session the night before. The tools for that adventure were still spread out around the top of the mattress: dildos and butt-plugs of various sizes and colours, a vibrator, a tube of lubricant and a laptop open to a Pornhub video entitled "Extreme Straight to Gay Sissy Anal Trainer". There could be no doubt in her mind about how I used these toys with that video as my guide.
I began, as many liars do, with the phrase: "Honey, I can explain."
She simply stared at me for a few long seconds. Then her lip quivered and the waterworks started. I comforted her, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting my arms around her. She did not resist, and I hoped that was a good sign. For several minutes, she blubbered and sobbed, wiping her runny nose on my sleeve. When the crying outburst passed, she tried to say something in a hesitant and trembling voice.
I had already calculated any number of things she might say: "I should have been enough for you"; "Get your things and go"; and "How could you do this to me?" How could I answer? Despite my aching needs of late to suck cock and take it up the ass, I loved my wife very much. My infidelity was my fault, and I would take responsibility, but I cast my mind ahead to think of anything I could say or do to earn a second chance. I was prepared to beg if necessary.
Regaining some of her composure, she lifted her head off my shoulder and looked me in the face. She started out falteringly.
"I... I..." and the rest of her sentence was lost in wailing as she started crying again.
I consoled her; I didn't rush her for fear that whatever she had to say would be hateful or cruel. She kept blubbering the same thing over and over again, but somehow it didn't sound like she was condemning me. After hearing it enough times, the words began to resolve out of the cracking voice and sobbing sounds and I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I cheated on you." She was saying it over and over again.
This sank in. My first thought was that I have no right to judge her given my own recent extramarital activity. She had been so painfully distant for the past year, but I blamed myself for not being the virile husband who could satisfy her. It seems she sought out that satisfaction on her own, just as I had. Perhaps she felt like the distance between us was her fault, just as I had believed it was mine.
After a few moments, I patted her on the shoulder. "There, there. It's alright."
Once she was able to talk clearly, it all came out. As our intimacy had weakened over the past few years, she had become increasingly frustrated sexually. My seeming lack of sexual interest began to make her feel unattractive. She began to secretly satisfy her urges by masturbating with strangers online, but before long, she was meeting up with her chatmates for real sex. She confessed that several of her trips to her mother's house in Ottawa and her sister's in Buffalo over the past year were just cover for weekend getaways with other men... and a few women.
I absorbed all of this, and as someone who was frequently stimulated by cuckold and lesbian porn, I found myself aroused by my wife's frank account of her infidelity. Later, I was going to want details.
Now it was my turn to come clean. I took responsibility for letting porn get in the way of our love-life; I had certainly spilled a lot of seed on fantasies when I could have had the real thing. She had watched the training video on the computer, and now that she was calm after her own confession, she asked me when I became interested in sissy sex. I was deeply embarrassed, but I was honest with my wife, explaining my progression through the realms of pornography until I found myself fascinated with sissy hypnosis videos.
"Do they work?" Lynn asked. "The hypno trainers?"
"They work," I answered ruefully.
"So, you've... sucked a cock?"
"Several."
"And you've been fucked up the ass?"
"A couple of times."
I came out to her as bisexual, and to my amazement and unimaginable relief, she admitted that she was bisexual as well. She had been experimenting with both men and women for the past year. Her trip to Buffalo this weekend had been a sham; she had really been much closer by, in Toronto, sleeping with a female intern from her firm's office there.
"So, you're bi," she said before biting her lip. "I have to admit the thought of you taking a cock turns me on..."
I could see a visible shift in her expression. She was considering my infidelity, I think, and treating mine the way I treated hers: not only did she find it forgivable, but also oddly stimulating. We both lay on the bed swapping stories of our adulterous encounters. We left no sensual details out. We compared the lengths of cock we had fucked and sucked; we discussed different positions in which we had teen taken. Before long, we were both aroused. When I told her about my spit-roast earlier that day, she admitted she was wet and spread her legs lewdly.
"Fuck me, my sissy boy," She said and I knew she meant it in the best possible way. It was acknowledgement.
We were like kids: we couldn't keep our hands off each other. We fucked twice back-to-back (not forgetting I had come earlier during my spit-roast). It was the best sex we'd had together in years.
A short while later, we were in the bath and sharing sex fantasies that we could follow together. We settled on one that turned us both on, and we made plans to have a third body join us in bed and fuck us both. Would it be a man or a woman? My wife was pretty keen to see me under a man, and I was not averse to the idea, so we began looking for a man to crowd us a little in bed.
