I walked in from work a little late. The date was imprinted on my memory because it was a life-changing day. June 17, a Friday.

Ellen was in the bathroom taking a bath, not a usual occurrence before dinner. and I knocked on the door, asking, “Hey, Ellen, should I start dinner?”

“Um, no, I don't think so, dear, I'm going out."

I smelled the scent of lavender and rosemary and something I didn’t recognize. I was thinking she’d bought some new bath oils. I went into the bathroom to clean up a bit, and I was admiring her body when I noticed that instead of her pubic hair being trimmed, it was completely gone. She was as nude there as a baby’s butt.

Hmm, is this a special day? Birthday, no; if I’m missing something, I have no idea what.

I went into our bedroom to lie down and tried to think; what am I missing? When she came out, wearing her robe, and got on the bed. She had a bottle of lotion and said, “Titus, I’m going out tonight, and I think it’s time we talk. I wasn’t just talking when, ah, we talked about our fantasies; when I talked about my fantasy. My fantasy of finding a lover. I pictured my lover and how you got me ready for him. Do you remember? I remember you saying it sounds exciting. Even later, when I brought it up, you sounded interested, but did nothing.”

Ellen, you’re right. I thought it was just a fantasy, but not something you wanted to happen.

She paused, and then said, “I want you to help get me ready for him; um, I met Jonathan, Jonathan, not John, when Diane and I went to dinner last month.”

She paused again before continuing, “I want you to … apply the lotion all over me.” She smiled and handed the lotion. “I want tonight to be perfect for Jonathan because tonight will be our first time.”

I can feel my cock; God, Titus, you’re getting hard. She expects me to help her cheat. No, just no.

“You want Jonathan to make love to you? You want me to help ... You cheat on me?

"No, Titus, I'm not cheating; I'm cuckolding you. It's a real thing, fucking other men with your husband knowing. Eventually, you'll even enjoy it. You were interested when we talked about it when we made love, your cock was as hard as steel, and when you came, it was twice as much as normal. Do you remember the mess? We had to change the bed afterward."

Cuckolding me? That's what she's doing? I looked at the lotion, and it was like I was moving without volition. I put some on my hands and rubbed it in, starting at her shoulders, then to her tits, with extra attention to her nipples. Next, were her arms, hands, and back, and then I hesitated before kneeling. I finally looked at her, and she had an expression of love on her face. 

God, no, she's not cheating; it's different

As I did her feet and legs, I knew I was going to have to do her private parts, hell, her pussy. When I got close, she spread her legs. I got more lotion and rubbed it in. 

“God, Ellen, you want me to pay special attention here, don’t you? I'll be especially careful with your clitoris, um, pussy. You'll want it, especially smooth and soft for ... Jonathan.

“Titus, yes, I do. I want it perfect for Jonathan; God, you’re going to make it just like my fantasy.”

I’m doing it; I’m helping her get ready for her lover.

“Next time, I want to shave you for him, your lover. It’s not going to be a one-time thing, is it? “

Did I say that? I guess even more critical is, did I mean it?

“Titus, I’m going to pick three outfits for my date with Jonathan; um, I want you to pick which one I’ll wear.” She went to her closet and picked out a blue outfit that I loved seeing. Then she brought out a sexier one, and finally one she bought on vacation in Barbados, on a dare. The Barbados outfit didn't allow her any underwear, no bra, or panties.

“So, what do want me to show Jonathan at dinner? You pick”. 

The husband part of me wanted to say the blue one; the cuckold part wanted to say the Barbados one. Do I have a cuckold part? Yesterday I’d have denied it; today? Feeling my arousal, it was hard to deny it. I tried to choose the blue dress, but in the end, my cock won. 

As I fought between the two; I felt my cock leaking. I kept picturing Ellen with an amorphous guy. Anyone seeing them together would know she was going to be screwed—screwed by Jonathan.

Ellen, uh, Ellen, I want you to wear your Barbados outfit. You’re giving yourself to him; I want you to make it clear to everyone that’s what going to happen. 

God, I can’t stand it. Everyone that sees her will know; he’s going to fuck her; if any of our friends or acquaintances recognize her, they will know I’m going to be cuckolded tonight. How am I letting this happen?

She picked up the outfit and grinned at me; "So no underwear tonight?" The only time she’d been willing to wear this was on that vacation. Though, I guess it’s appropriate tonight. 

She put her makeup on, did her hair, and then put her outfit on. “This is going to be exciting tonight. When we’re at his place, it’s going to feel incredible when his, um, he enters me. When he’s cumming, god., when his cock cums in my cunt. I’ll be screaming. Titus, I’ll be screaming his name, and you'll be a cuckold."

Ellen got her keys and left me at home. Saying she should be home by two A.M. 

Why am I crying? God, my cock is hard and I know I want him to do it. Ellen, yes, I want you to fuck him. I want you to cuckold me. I want it to happen, but it still hurts. I’m letting her screw another guy, and it’s humiliating. Arousal, humiliation, dread, and pain—I never realized a man could hold such conflicting emotions at the same time.