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A Cuckold's Tale Part 2

Once again I was back in front of my computer with the door to my messy office locked -- not that SUMITA would come anywhere near me for the rest of the night -- but better safe than sorry. I pulled out the dirty picture from a locked desk drawer and put it in place, then pulled up the internet.
I sat there thinking about how it had come to this. Porn had been an occasional crutch for my sex life in between girlfriends at first. But a long dry spell after college had made it more of a wheel chair than a crutch, and soon it
was an obsession. I'd sometimes choose to sit home on the weekends while my friends partied, preferring to indulge in all night masturbation binges. Talking to girls wasn't easy for me, but porn stars were a sure thing.

Straight boy-girl porn wasn't enough after a while. It turned into girl-girl, then three ways, then gangbangs, BDSM, fetishes, I just had to keep pushing the limits. At some point I even began whacking off to an occasional gay porno, just to push the envelope - to feel like
there was something taboo still left out there.

And when nothing seemed taboo anymore, I found myself increasingly unfulfilled, even depressed. Nothing satisfied my appetite anymore, everything was too tame. I couldn't even get it up half the time when I did find a girlfriend; they were all too vanilla to excite me. Ironically, I ended up falling in love with the most vanilla girl of them all, SUMITA.

SUMITA was piss drunk when I met her at a wedding party in a hotel with my friends, which made her the aggressor. I would never have had the balls to talk to a woman that hot, nor would she have approached me if she'd been sober, again, thank god for Tequila! She seemed wild, and that excited me. We fucked in the back of my car that night, and the sex was awkward and clumsy at best, but I'd never come close to screwing a woman that fine before, so that was all the excitement I needed. never expected her to call me after that night, but she did. I'd soon find out that SUMITA was just as boring as me without the liquid encouragement. But that's partly in the hotel what made us click. I didn't need to pretend to be exciting and adventurous, and she was wholly content just having someone who she could talk to, cuddle with, and who didn't smack her around for not having dinner ready.

She was in a miserable arranged marriage to a man from kolkata, and I was a lonely pervert who was tired of making love to my palm. We were both desperate for something more
fulfilling, and we found that in each other. The fct that she was married and a mother of 2 never escaped me when I fucked her, and for the time, that was my excitement in the sex department.

When she finally divorced him, left her kids and married me, the thrill of sneaking around and poking another man's wife was gone. The taboo of marrying another man’s well used wife and convincing her to left her kids was all I had left to excite me sexually, but that was wearing thin. Marrying a woman with two kids seemed to be everywhere, it wasn't such a big deal anymore.

But we did have love, and that wasn't lost on me. We laughed a lot, we understood each other - at least outside of the bedroom - and we shared a deep emotional bond. She felt like I'd saved her from a life of servitude to an ungrateful prick, and she'd saved me from eternal loneliness. For a while I was able to focus on the less shallow aspects of our relationship.
I was literally getting by on love alone - sex was side note. I convinced myself that I'd rather be happily married and sexually deprived, than the lonely pervert I was.

But after the first couple of years we inevitably found ourselves in a rut, facing the
ultimate relationship killer -- boredom. She'd been sober for the most part during those first years, but when she started drinking regularly again, I knew something was wrong. Liquor had been her crutch when she was at her wits end with her last marriage, and I feared history was repeating itself. Likewise, I was back to my porn habit and hiding out in my office to jerk off.

When she was sober she seemed content, albeit less affectionate than before. But when she came home drunk, she had a laundry list of things to bitch about. I was suddenly too boring, we never went anywhere, we never had enough money, I left the toilet seat up, and I was always in that stupid office. I'd return fire with the only weapon I had -- you don't ever fuck me! She'd apologize for everything when she was sober, and so would I, but I knew -- a drunk mouth speaks for a sober heart.We were on edge for the next two years. Everyday I feared we were nearing the end. I knew that SUMITA feared the same thing, but somewhere along the line we'd lost our ability to communicate with each other so we seldom discussed how things had gone down hill or how to fix them. She was keeping herself sane via her crutch -- liquor, and I was using mine -- pornography.

Falling back into my old habits, I was always searching for the next taboo fetish to get off to when the old ones had ceased to be interesting. I stumbled across one so obvious that I couldn't believe I'd never given it a serious look before - swinging.

There were tons of wife swapping sites on the Internet. At first I watched videos of couples swapping partners. I remembered the feeling of screwing another man's wife and it immediately appealed to me. When watching other types of pornography I always personalized the fantasy by imagining myself doing those things with my wife. I even dared to think that some day she'd come out of her shell and doing those things would be a real possibility. But swinging was out of the question. My traditional bengali wife on rare occasion showed flashes of willingness to explore new kinks, but she was far too possessive to ever consider such a thing. So when I
fantasized about swinging my mind forced me to leave SUMITA out of the fantasy, because it was plainly impossible But at some point I stopped focusing on the pleasure of being able to screw someone else's wife, and began to ponder the other aspect of wife swapping that I'd largely ignored; what it was like to have another man screwing mine at the same time? It didn't take long for me
to discard the idea of screwing other men's wives and completely zero in on the latter.

I knew SUMITA wouldn't swap with me, but would she cheat?
The thought scared the shit out of me to the point of making me sick in the stomach at first, partly because we had drifted so far apart that I couldn't rule it out. She had after all, cheated on her first husband with me, and left her kids to her to him. But at the same time it excited me like nothing else ever had. Imagining my prude, wife, whoring around like some cheap slut, gave me a rush.
Maybe it was easier to harbor a fantasy like that because we weren't as close at the time, so it was easier to detach myself from the emotional side of things. It was also easier for me to picture it as a reality more so than a fantasy, because unlike the other fetishes I'd obsessed over; this was smething she'd actually done before. I knew I wasn't the first person she'd cheated on her ex-husband with.
(To Be Continued)
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