Empowered Cuckoldress

From Fetlife User @kbangz

One way in which we view our cuckolding relationship eloquently paraphrased:

“The only thing sexier than a nice, big cock is seeing my husband’s twitch helplessly for me.”


For many couples, the appeal of cuckolding isn’t to replace something missing, it’s to create a new dynamic. At the core of this experience is the empowerment of the the wife through becoming a hotwife – a sexually liberated married (or otherwise committed) woman. This empowerment is often so attractive to her because she has traditionally not been the more dominant partner in the relationship and it’s the empowerment which drives her interest in cuckolding her husband more than the opportunity to invite another male inside her.

Take one couple for example: both attractive people in their 30s, she was a tall and slender sandy blonde with breasts perfectly proportional to her frame. He was tall with athletic build and big cock. However, she explained that he couldn’t fuck her longer than ten minutes. What she say was that before she began fucking other men in front of him, he could fuck her as long as he wanted to.

So what happened? Empowerment expressed as a power exchange.

Sharing her was at first a fantasy neither one of them expected to become a reality, but once he admitted to her how much he enjoyed it when men tried to seduce her, the pillow talk and fantasies gave her a clear path to being empowered. She recognized the intensity of this fantasy for him and how it could be used to bargain his behavior and used that to negate his tendency to only take the pillow talk to a certain point of arousal before he would assert control so he could fuck her. Tying him to the sort of reclining lounge chair one finds by the pool became the only way she could explore these ideas with him without him just taking her when he wanted to. Being free to explore ideas and tease her husband, she quickly realized how certain topics, certain ideas rapidly pushed him toward the cliff of orgasm. She would often mount him, cowgirl, while he was bound to the lounge chair, and use his cock like a dildo, but even when she controlled the pace, only a few of the right words could send him over the edge. She then began hand training him – using her hand to tease him instead of riding him, hoping he’d last longer that way – somehow that got him off even faster. Now I understand why, but at the time that mad no sense to me. She became much more fascinated by her ability to have such sexual control over her otherwise dominant husband and his impressive cock than by the option to allow someone else to seduce her (or think he had).

Cuckoldress dating

It didn’t take her long to realize that she always had to give in, in the end, to get fucked, but it was a very short coupling – too short. To work around that they tried lovemaking without the teasing and pillow talk, but found that lacking. The only way to enjoy her teased male and enjoy being fucked by one was to invite another male into their marriage. Doing that meant she could fully explore stripping her husband of his sexual prowess.

Learning to uncouple the idea of being inside his wife simply because he’s erect and desires her is much more challenging for both when he’s above average, but doing so becomes twice as rewarding.

Is the phrase “rob him of his sexual prowess” still reverberating inside your mind? I know it sounds cruel to some, but done within the context of a loving, hotwife/cuckold relationship, it’s simply another way to express a submissive role on behalf of the husband and way for his hotwife to feel empowered. This energy even transfers to the boyfriend if/when he becomes aware that his play with the wife has enabled her to further the necessity of his role in their marriage.

I was told I was the third guy to play with her (them). We always played together and he was always bound to the chair, on a towel, while watching us. I usually started with her in missionary, but she always wanted to ride me so she could look at her cuckold and taunt him. He would be leaking mostly constantly and she would sometimes slip off my cock and go over to him and tease him physically in her hands or even mount him briefly before returning to me. I believe it was those moments forever captured in his mind that robbed him of his stamina. Even when alone with her and free of any teasing by her, those memories and images couldn’t be escaped. To paraphrase his wife, “The only thing sexier than a nice, big cock is seeing my husband’s twitch helplessly for me.”

They told me he only got her hand or his own while she was ‘seeing someone’, but I don’t really know if that was true or something they told me to make me feel special. She did demonstrate how easily she could make him spurt – rather like the video below, though he was already quite erect when she started.

This is obviously not an actual couple (porn couple), but the situation is valid and mirrors what I experienced with my second couple. I was little more than a living dildo for her and we really never had much of a gf/bf kind of thing. Even though it was hot to fuck her like that while it lasted, I’d have to say I’ve gained more from it in hindsight than I did in the moment.

I’ve talked to a number of couples who have discovered this dynamic and actively pursued it, including one just recently. Though it’s intense to consider the idea that such a shift in his sexual stamina is permanent, it’s most likely not, but while his wife feels empowered to rob him of it, that’s very likely to happen!

True story from Carol – The night that changed our life. Part 1

It was Saturday night and after a couple cocktails with dinner, Joe and I decided to hit a dance club for a few drinks after dinner. This is not uncommon for us on the weekends. We both have demanding jobs and always try to make the best of the weekends. This was a new club for us. More upscale then the norm and we both figured we’d find a spot at the bar and enjoy a night of libations and people watching, for an hour at most. 

We cozied up to the bar in the bustling nightclub and Joe set forth to get us a drink. The two attractive female bartenders were slammed. Each time one would approach Joe, he’d stretch out his arm and try to get her attention while holding a $20 bill. Each time, they breezed past. After a about 5 minutes, I was wondering if drinks were in our future. As Joe continued to reach over the bar, clutching his $20, a man approached the bar. He squeezed between the two of us and immediately captured the bartenders attention. She leaned over and got took his order almost instantly. My first instinct was anger. I looked to Joe and he saw the look of disgust on his face. Then I looked at the stranger. Oh my god! How could I be angry? Standing between Joe and I was a handsome black man. He was tall, well built, and appeared to be a perfect gentleman. As Joe continued to flail his arm at the bartender, the stranger leaned down and asked me if I was waiting to get a drink. When I replied in the affirmative, he once again got the bartenders attention and ordered me the Chardonnay that I had been craving. He even had the drink put on his tab! 

I was so struck by his confidence and swagger that I momentarily forgot that Joe was still trying to get his first round! I thanked the stranger and he politely said 

“You’re welcome. I know how hard it can be for a single woman to get a drink around here”. 

That’s when I remembered Joe. I giggled and motioned to Joe 

“I’m actually here with my husband”. 

The stranger glanced at Joe and then quickly turned his attention back to me. “You know, since I got you your drink, the least you could do is give me a dance”

“My god” I thought! I was taken aback by his confidence and momentarily hesitated in my response. Before I responded he said

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite. It’s just a dance. We’re all adults here, right?”

“Holy Fuck”, I thought to myself. It really wasn’t a question, but a statement. He leaned in and bit more and said

“My named is Reggie, just one dance?”

I don’t know, blame it on the warm up cocktails at home or chalk it up to Reggie’s staggering confidence and his unwavering eye contact, but I nodded my head yes, knowing full well that Joe would have a cow. Reggie smiled and led me out to the dance floor by the hand, as Joe stood at the bar, jaw dropping I’m sure. 

 It was to loud to have a conversation, but we could sure dance. And dance I did. The music was thumping, and I sipped what was my 3rd wine for the night, I found some pretty good rhythm for a 40 year old white girl! I got into the music, and that one song became two, then three – then I lost track. Reggie was all smiles, as was I. I glanced at the bar and saw that Joe had found himself a seat and a drink. Although he didn’t look real happy, his eyes were riveted to the dance floor and I found myself enjoying this situation. By this time any feeling of guilt I may have had quickly disappeared. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was Reggie’s cool confidence and swagger. Either way, I allowed myself to be sucked into the moment. Reggie’s reassuring words “We’re all adults here, right?” rang through my head. Of course we’re adults and we were acting like it. 

After a few more songs, Reggie excused himself to the men’s room and I took the opportunity to visit Joe at the bar. The reception I got was cold. Joe was now into his 4th drink and was fuming at my “slutty behavior”. I guess Joe’s response shouldn’t have been unexpected, but I did find it quite immature and out of line. Although I was a little angry, the hotness of the situation was turning me on, and yes, maybe the alcohol was getting the better of me. 

“Joe, settle down. He’s a nice guy and it’s just dancing. You don’t like to dance anyway! We’re all adults here, right?” Joe was slow to respond. 

“RIGHT?”

Joe must have detected something in my voice as he conceded to easily. 

“Yes, Carol, we’re all adults”

“Good, then don’t ruin a perfectly good evening baby, okay?”

He nodded and the look of submission on his face was unmistakeable. 

Right about then the bartender sauntered by, and I grabbed her attention. I ordered three shots of Fireball whiskey and told her to put it on Joe’s tab. It occurred to me that when we arrived at the bar, Joe was unable to properly order us cocktails. Reggie had to get them for us. And now I was doing the ordering as Joe seemed incapable of completing this simple task. First a handsome stranger had to do what Joe could not, and then his own wife had to take charge to get results. I smirked when the drinks were delivered posthaste and Joe’s expression indicated that he also caught the irony of the situation.

Joe reached for one of the shots and I quickly batted his arm down. I told him the third one was for Reggie and that since Reggie was polite enough to get my first round, we should be polite and wait for him to return and do the shot together. 

“But I thought you dancing with Reggie was thanks enough”

I replied “honey, don’t be like that. It’s just a shot…. After all, we’re all adults here, right?”

Joe leaned back in his chair, and I admit I felt a slight twinge of excitement at the subtle emasculation that was occurring here. 

About that time, I spied Reggie walking our way from the restroom area. I was finally able to see him from a distance and for the first time I noticed the sizeable bulge in his pants. I may have stared a bit to long, but my inhibitions were low. I blame it on the alcohol. Regrouping at the bar, I handed Reg one of the three shot glasses and he thanked me, as Joe stared on. I called for a toast to “New friends” and we all raised are glasses and took the shot. It wasn’t the most pleasant tasting shot, but I handled like a trooper with only a tiny wince. Reg was a bit more impressive, as he looked like he was simply drinking a shot of water. Then there was Joe. His shot glass was half full still as mine and Reg’s hit the bar simultaneously. I looked on as he took his second shot at the whiskey, finally getting it all down. I couldn’t help but playfully comment

“god baby, don’t be such a wimp”

Poor Joe. I immediately realized those words only added to his growing insecurity, but I quickly concluded that that wasn’t a bad thing. Reg chuckled as Joe chased his shot with a glass of water and leaned back again in his chair. That was when Reg leaned in and invited me back out to the dance floor. What took him so long! I turned to Joe and he said something to the effect of wasn’t I about ready to go home. And haven’t I done enough dancing for one night. Before I could reply, Reg was pulling me by the hand and I willingly followed him to the floor as I told Joe:

“just a couple more songs” , I yelled as I trotted away

Back out on the dance floor I was catching my second wind. Again, songs flew by and when I looked at my watch I realized we had been out there 45 minutes. Reg and I were both glistening in sweat, but neither of us was ready to leave the dance floor. I was feeling a little light headed, probably from all the alcohol, and stumbled briefly before Reg caught me in his arms. I rested my head on Reg’s powerful chest as we both continued to sway to the music. 

I was acutely aware of Reg’s hands now moving up and down my back. To my hips – then my shoulders. Soon my hands were doing the same, Out lining his wide frame. At one point Reg turned me around and we began grinding to the music. I spied Joe at the bar staring on, nursing a glass of ice water. I thought about what had transpired tonight. I felt like I was being swept off my feet, as my helpless husband looked on – unable to intervene or even protest the very open flirting that was going on between his normally conservative wife and a handsome strange black man. Again, maybe it was the alcohol, but seeing Joe in this predicament was exciting me. Just as our eyes met, I bent forward just bit and backed my ass hard into Reg’s crotch. Reg’s arm carefully circled my waste and held me closer to him. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as we grinded and dipped in small semi circles. 

“You’re killing me girl”

He said as his lips lingered millimeters from my neck. That’s when I felt a twitch on my ass. All I could think was “oh my god”. Reg was become aroused and from the feel of it, he was packing a monster in his pants. I realized my eyes were closed, ever so briefly, and when i reopened them I saw Joe, red face, looking very flustered and awkward looking on. The cute bartender was over his shoulder looking on. She also seemed delighted at Joe’s predicament and I swear she winked in my direction like “You go girl”. I reached back for Reg’s hand intending to lead him off the floor and back to the bar. Instead, my hand found something else. In just a couple seconds, I confirmed what my ass had felt. This man was hung! By purely non scientific means, I estimated his cock to be at 8″ at least – maybe nine. And girthy. What the fuck was happening here? My pussy moistened. I finally found Reg’s hand and led him from the dance floor. 

To be continued. Let me know if you are interested in hearing the rest of this story.