Blog Erotic Stories

Cuckold Stories | The Pretty Little Lies

My wife Deborah and I met when we were both 19 years old. She was a beautiful young woman who grew up in a conservative home and was well-mannered, morally-driven, and very hardworking. Deborah and I both had come from small towns and like most teenagers our age we were young, in love, and eager to grow up.

We took the expected route of adulthood. We went to college, got good jobs, bought a house, and followed every step of the “how to live a normal, boring life 101” checklist. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be and I would not have expected to grow up with cuckold stories to tell. 

Fast-forward 15 years later.  While I was once a young, confident, happily-married man – I sit here now a desperate, pathetic cuckold ravenously searching through my wife’s literal dirty laundry whispering, “I know I’ll find something in here, there just has to be something!“.

How the fuck did I end up here?

April 22nd. That’s the day I officially became a cuckold and realized my wife had been cheating on me. That’s the day I broke.

Deborah and I were in the kitchen preparing dinner which was out of our normal routine as I normally worked late on Tuesday nights. You could consider us both to have been “married to our careers”. Our sex life, or lack thereof, was proof of that. It had been nearly 4 years since I touched my wife and jerking off at the office had become bland and boring. I was determined to wine and dine my wife at home that evening in hopes of rekindling our sex life.

 

Not long into our date, Deborah’s phone made a sound and she sighed dramatically after reading the text message. “Sorry honey, I gotta go into work”, she says. Deborah had been working per diem at a local hospital and never hesitated to pick up a shift.

“A shift this late? On a Tuesday?”, I asked with the tone of a sad, broken-hearted puppy. Truthfully, I’m not sure who was more disappointed, me or my dick. 

“I told you, one of the night nurses is pregnant, I’ll probably be taking up a lot of her shifts from now on”, Deborah said loudly. I could hear her in the bedroom as she shuffled around the drawers to gather her things for work. She put on her light blue scrubs, grabbed her purse, and hurried out the door. 

 

Although disappointed that my attempt at marital intimacy had failed, I wasn’t giving up on getting laid. I finished cooking and packed some food away to bring to Deborah at work. A bit of good behavior might be rewarded, right? My hopes were high.

Close to 10:00 pm I pulled into the hospital employee parking lot scanning for Deborah’s car, but I couldn’t find it. She must’ve parked in the other lot, this one seems kind of full. I walked into the hospital and was greeted by the front desk where I replied, “Hey Daisy, just dropping some food off for Deborah – can you let me into the nurses’ lounge?” 

Daisy cocked her head and scrambled about to check the shift schedule. She looked up at me puzzled and said, “No, she’s not in today. Actually, we have a note here that says she’s requested not to work Tuesday nights anymore. Have you tried her cell?”.

This didn’t make any sense at all. No, no, no. This is just a misunderstanding. She’s probably on the way back home right now.

The drive felt longer than it normally does. The hospital was a quick 10 minutes from the house, but I had felt like I was driving for hours. I couldn’t get out of my head. At a red light, I grabbed my phone and called Deborah. Rang twice, then to voicemail. I pretended not to notice the tightness in my throat or the pounding in my chest. What the fuck was going on? 

I parked in the driveway and I sat in despair when I realized that Deborah’s car wasn’t there. I went inside, looked around, and sat by the dining table pondering the possibilities. Maybe I misheard her, maybe she went to a friend’s house. Maybe she meant she was going to the gym? Whatever it was, I didn’t like the feeling it was giving me. I sat in silence waiting for my wife to return.

I was startled at around 9 am. Fuck, I must’ve dozed off. I could hear the sound of keys being placed on the marble counter; Deborah was home.

I simultaneously felt everything and nothing, I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing. Somehow, I gathered myself enough to walk into the living room where she was. She was still in those light blue scrubs and appeared to be freshly showered. I needed to know where she was, I needed to know why she lied, I needed to scream at the top of my LUNGS.

 

But all that came out of my pathetic mouth was, “How was work?”.

“Fine, she says, “It was a busy day at work, I showered there. I’m exhausted, I’m going straight to bed”. And just like that, My lying, cunt of a wife walked into our bedroom and shut the door behind her.

 

Although it wasn’t confirmed, I was deeply suspicious that my wife was having an affair.

 

Weeks went by and Deborah continued to be called in to a 12-hour shift that she never actually went to. I suspected that my wife was cheating on me, but I didn’t have the balls to bring it up. I was a pathetic excuse for a man, nothing but a fucking cuckold. 

 

She never failed to come up with such good little lies though. All of the god damned lies. The worst part, she was so fucking good at it. I almost wanted to acknowledge it just to be able to praise her exquisite skills. Deborah could be so convincing at times that she even had me second-guessing all of my suspicions. I felt like I was going crazy; Like any minute I could just fucking explode.

 

This all brings us to the day of discovery and findings that my wife, Deborah, was indeed a cheating whore. 

“I know I’ll find something in here, there just has to be something“, I whisper. 

There I was, rummaging through her hamper looking for any piece of proof to validate the erratic and taunting thoughts in my head. I had been in our walk-in closet, just 6 feet away from where she slept. I’m not sure what I was expecting to find or what I would do if I found it, but I knew I had to keep looking.

 

I grab a pair of panties that were hanging off the edge of the hamper – they were the ones I saw her wearing last night. Those were the ones she wore before her fake Tuesday shift – and they were fucking soaked. I bring the inner parts of her panties closer and I come to a complete halt – there was cum all over them. Not just hers, this was a different consistency, this was from a man.

 

I felt like I was almost lifeless and everything around me had mute. Parts of me felt continuous, moving, rushing – while other parts of me stood completely still. Blood rushed to my face and immediately my cheeks had felt like fire to the touch. My throat had closed so tightly I could barely swallow my own saliva. How could she do this to me?

 

Drowning in a bottomless sea of emotional disarray, I became aware of another feeling. Something that didn’t make sense at all for the situation at hand. I focused on my heartbeat and could feel it beating harder than it ever has. It pumped through my chest, my arms, and my legs. And then I felt it beat all the way down to my dick. I placed my hand on my groin and there it was, my neglected cock, hard as a fucking rock.

 

What the fuck? I was suddenly hit with such an intense bout of arousal that I couldn’t contain (nor did I want to). It completely took me over. Before realizing what I was doing, my hand was already down my boxers jerking myself off with one hand while the other had her cum-filled panties pressed against my face. None of it made sense but my throbbing dick had never felt like this before. 

Deborah was only a few feet away but this was a very primitive urge that I had to indulge in, so I did. Thinking about how another man had been inside her brought a dreadful sense of misery and humiliation….but it made me want to cum. Did he make her moan harder than I ever did? Was he bigger than me? Did he cum inside her? 

 

I’m not gonna last much longer. 

 

Without even processing the fall, I end up pitifully on my knees, stroking for the finale. A numbness filled my spine and I felt an electric tingle shoot up from my toes to my balls and up towards the tip of my nose. I looked down and saw I was shooting loads of cum all over my wife’s dirty panties. My cum mixing with hers and the unidentified male’s cum, creating a pile of shameful mess.

 

What the FUCK is wrong with me?! As badly as I wanted to sulk in my shame and self-pity, I had to act fast. Deborah already sees me as weak enough to cheat on, I don’t need to give her another reason to view me as less of a man. I quietly grabbed the incriminated evidence of my new and secret perversion and headed to the bathroom to clean myself up.

 

As time passed, I proved more and more to be nothing more than a little bitch. I never found the courage to face my wife about her… sexual discrepancies. Yep- I just let it keep happening. But, I got better at pretending that I didn’t know about her little secret. The dumber I played, the more confident she got, and the more confident she got, the more of a whore she became. My wife thought she was untouchable. She wasn’t wrong and this new kink of mine enjoyed every minute of it. Every single lie she fed me felt like hot metal piercing through my dick being both the worst and best sensation I’ve ever felt.

 

I once overheard her having phone sex in the second bedroom. As much as I wanted to storm in like any normal man would, shouting, “I KNEW IT, YOU CHEATING BITCH” – I touched my emasculated cock to the sound of her wet pussy, instead. What a pathetic cuckold, I can’t even remember the last time I was near her pussy.

 

All the little lies were what truly did it for me. The blatant, outright deception and how good she was at it. She could’ve been an actress. If it weren’t for the cum-drenched panties and our completely barren sex-life, I would’ve fallen for it. But instead, I look forward to every lie. I can barely keep my lips from curling upward when she looks me in the eye and tells me everything but the truth. 

“I’m going out with the girls tonight, don’t stay up, we’ll be out late”, she would say. That was always a good one. The dress she came home with the last time she used that line had more cum-stains than a glory-hole at a truck stop.

As much as I’d like to confront my wife about how she’s a selfish, cheating whore – I’m enjoying jerking off with her cum-filled panties instead.