I’d posted parts and snippets of this story elsewhere here on SoL, but some chat acquaintances on one of the dodgier corners of Reddit wanted to hear more details about my 1^st cheating cuckold slut wife. So, I wrote up a very abbreviated version of this story and to keep it vaguely on-topic I posted it also on r/cheatingwifestories. The pervs that I wrote the minimal account for were very appreciative ... but the rest of the Redditors there, not so much. Some readers had snits about reading heavy cuckold themes in a cheating wife story forum and everyone mostly insisted the story was untrue anyway, so I was massively downvoted. They couldn’t believe any guy would willingly want to be cucked! In a cheating wife story group, well go figure!

Quite pissed off now, and not just from spending another week recently in the hospital, I gathered up all of the DM snippets I’d given small bits of this tale in, and from my much-shortened reddit story, and sat down for two straight days to really get the whole entire story right, to the best of my memory.

My short-term memory is utter garbage, maybe from a small stoke I might had had with the big heart attack, but my long-term memory (never ever perfect) is pretty good for recalling the past important things in past, but sometimes I get the smaller details confused. Every time since when I’ve edited and reedited this story, I’ve recalled something else new to add, or something not quite accurate with the way I’d first stated some past event. I think I’ve got it now close enough for educational and reading entertainment purposes.

I’m sure my Ex-wife has completely different memories of this entire affair, but this is the way I seem to recall it.

I’m a retired senior now and in less that good health and thought my true story of the events from my first marriage back in the 1980’s would be amusing at the very least, and perhaps mildly educational to a few of you overly enamored with the theory and practice of legions of cheating wifes’ and guys being cucked, willingly or not. It’s not a fetish lifestyle for everyone and there a plenty of warnings here for those just curious about it, or those of us who have flown too close to the sun and had our wings melt off to disaster.

If I had it all to do all over again... 90% of the events of this story would never happen (again).

So, in entirely too much detail, here are my 100% true and completely unembellished memories and recollections of those wild and crazy years of my mid-late twenties. I’m not too ashamed of my own past life mistakes these days and I’ve found over the years that I can be very candid about my past sex life, fun parts and not so fun, the warts and all. All third parties are (of course) unnamed and given pseudonyms.

Circa the mid 1980’s, I met and married my first wife who was about my same age and we had a baby together (100% certainly mine) about 8-1/2 months after the wedding day. She was fun and much wilder than any girlfriend I’d ever had ... and she loved sex, at least as much as I did. ‘Sorry, dear, not tonight I have a headache’ was never heard in our bedroom, at least for the few years or so. She had what we called then a ‘history’, or today, we’d say she’d racked up a body count and was very eager to settle down in domestic married life. We kissed on the first date and fucked on the second. Then, we were a couple. I never got her to admit a number of past lovers, other than ‘a few’. At age 24 she was already divorced, twice. She gone back to her first ex-husband twice and married him again. That ought to have been a clear warning sign. Hereafter, I’ll just refer to her as the Ex.

We had good times and bad times together, but they were special unforgettable years either way and I have no desire to intentionally slut shame her. We all have our past and portions of blame.

It was her hair, a blonde/auburn blend that loved the sunlight that first attracted me to her. She had a nice friendly smile, a sense of humor (with clear indications of also having a dirty mind), and really close to perfect C cup tits that looked great in or without a bra, without much sag (until after our baby). I always had a thing for her breasts! If there was any defect to them at all to them, it was that she had ‘innies’, flat nipples that hardly ever rose above the surface curve of her tits even when aroused. They became a problem later when she attempted breastfeeding. Today, in the 21^st century, I’d take her to a piercing emporium and get her pierced with some rings, nipple-pullers or nippleshield that would maximize what nipples she had and lift them up and out, better for proudly showing on display by her proud husband. Knowing her, if there was such a place forty years ago, she’d have gone there in a heartbeat. Maybe you could get intimate piercings at some biker bar back then, but there certainly was nothing in our city with a big flashing shop sign saying ‘piercings’, unlike today, where they’re everywhere.

Having a ‘history’ also meant she was very good in the bedroom. She loved sucking cock and would swallow cum, which was something that none of my prior GF’s would ever do, and she knew of several more sexual positions other than plain missionary. As a birthday present one year someone had bought her that ‘101 Sexual Positions’ B&W photo book that seemed to be visible on nearly everyone’s home bookshelf in the early 1980’s, right next to Joy of Sex. I think that, more than anything else, was what ensnared me ... having a wife that would happily do everything that none of my past GF’s would do! We had sex at least three nights a week, even after the bun was already in the oven. Her only ‘nope’ was anal, because she had a very tight asshole and even with lube and while sniffing poppers, butt sex hurt. I was compensated in other ways. Older and wiser, I now know that she had a quite dry ass and just needed a lot more lube to make the passage enjoyable ... and regular workouts with plugs and toys.

Side note, she LOVED poppers and bought them from our local adult novelty shop by the 12-pack. They were very legal and OTC in our state at the time and she almost couldn’t imagine being fucked without taking a snort or two when she was close to orgasm. Eating her cunt out (sometimes for hours) while watching VHS porn on the TV, she could cum like a runaway diesel train after a big popper hit. Me, I wasn’t so much into them, but if I’d warn her that I was about ready to cum, the ever-present bottle would be thrust under my nose to sniff. It DID make orgasms more intense, I’ll admit, but I was really fine without it. Being without (legal) poppers while we were overseas later was maybe the single biggest thing she missed not having.

The Ex loved watching porn with me, and even watched VHS porn tapes all on her own when I was off at work while she masturbated (which I think she did twice a day. There would be a tape playing almost any time anyone dropped by our apartment, or after a dinner party. No one cared or thought much about it. You won’t believe me, but it wasn’t an uncommon thing for military wives to put on a commercial porn movie just for background music, at get togethers of hubby’s friends and coworkers, or even the regular Saturday BBQ. No modern sensitivities then, and if a wife was offended, she just kept her mouth shut about it.

I was military enlisted and worked the graveyard shift, but on my nights at home the routine was dinner and an XXX movie together. If a buddy, fellow computer geek, or coworker happened to be there, they sit and eat popcorn and make rude remarks along with us during the movie. It was entirely customary, just something all of the guys (and their GF’s or spouses) seemed to do.

She adjusted pretty well to the routine of things and wasn’t too bored, she said at the time. Her nightside bedtable had all her masturbation stuff, a 6”+ thick stack of explicit magazines (everyone had a lot of those in the pre-internet 1980’s) and several vibrator dildoes, and popper bottles. We had a lot of sex together, but when she was alone, she masturbated at least once daily. Her porn preference was absolutely for Lesbian/Girl-Girl mags and videos. That was her biggest sexual fantasy, by far, and she let me know that if the chance came to ever do it with another woman for the first time, she wanted to! Nothing got her hotter than watching two women in a 69 together!

A close second would be for threesome/moresome stuff. FFM really got her hot, and MFM started to grown on her later on also. A good amateur couple swapping video with horny bisexual wives was like finding the porn holy grail, especially if the GF’s & wives had a good 69 scene together, and she wore out a few of these tapes.

The 1980’s was the golden age of porn movies and about once a month she’d want to go to the local adult theater to watch some new release. Nothing released after the mid-1990’s had the chef’s kiss perfect blend of a decent plot, humor, and nasty sex like the classics. I’d let her pick a new VHS tape or two, and also a half dozen new glossy porn mags from the discount clearance bin for her growing pile of stroke material. Porn arcades and theaters were almost upscale in those days, not remotely as seedy as they are now. You might see a couple fondling each other, reasonably discretely, or even giving/getting a BJ, but there were no ‘hot wives’ or CD/TS’s fucking all comers in the back row, or creatures I wouldn’t touched even with a dozen penicillin shots. And, we often didn’t go any of these places alone, just the two of us, but sometimes went casually with another married military couple, or more often, with the Ex’s bestie and sometimes her grouchy poon-hound hubby.

Ex’s very best friend (hereafter called BFF) was her best friend since middle school and her bridesmaid for all three of her weddings, and she was married herself to a very grumpy badger of guy I’ll call BFFH (for hubby). He doesn’t enter much into the story of our early years, but he becomes very significant later on. BFF was short and stout, a blonde ditz with not much brain in her head, huge floppy tits, and she had the dirtiest mouth and mind I’d ever seen. She made no secret ever, that she and hubby could each openly fuck whomever and whenever they wanted to. They didn’t have a happy marriage, but BFF didn’t have the brains or ambition to clean out her marital house and start over clean. They had kids (and both of them grew up to be nothing but trouble) and BFF and BFFH just wanted to have plenty of private space to do their things and let the brats essentially run free-range.

BFF was interested in me right from day one, when I first met her. It was a day or two before Ex’s and mine wedding and she’d had us over to her house for drinks (lots of them). Since I worked nights, late mornings and afternoons were my only casual drinking time, but I couldn’t overdo it that day. Went to work as usual that evening, my last work day before my week of leave started, and returned back to BFF’s house, where Ex was, to get my usual sleep. BFFH was elsewhere (don’t remember why he wasn’t around at all that week, out of town for work, maybe?) and Ex and BFF were both fresh out of bed each dressed in skimpy nighties to greet me. Ex loved wearing very light sheer very short night clothes that maximized the appearance her large almost perfect boobs and minimal nipples that poked invisibly if at all, even when aroused. BFF wore her baby dolls longer, almost to her knees, but the bra cups were very transparent lace and her FF or GG sized boobs and big nipples were always glad to be on full display.

The bed was a classic 80’s king-sized waterbed and fit three people comfortably. There was some general goofing around, some light petting, a kiss or three, and maybe an ass cheek or boob squeezed, but nothing that went beyond 2^nd base for BFF and myself. Since I’d been awake for the better part of three days, dealing with wedding stuff, I was ready to take my usual late morning/early afternoon sleep, to be ready to deal with stuff that evening and the next few days, and the gals let me get some rest. Mostly.

I woke up once a few hours later feeling cold. 80’s waterbeds always made me feel cold as BFF/BFFH never plugged in the water heater for theirs. Probably a fire hazard anyway. Anyway, about half still asleep, I realized I’d been sleeping with no bed covers, lying flat on my back ... and two giggling women were in the doorway very pointedly looking at my bare cock and balls, out for full display. I pulled the covers up, to an audible groan of disappointment and got back to sleep again.

That evening was the bachelor/bachelorette joint party, drinks (lots of them) at BFF’s house. Most of my coworkers were there and other family friends of Ex and BFF, so the atmosphere remained PG, mostly. I was taking a long drink fueled pee in the master bathroom (door shut) when I felt BFF’s bare tits press against me and a hand reached around to grab my cock and help me to pee. I was almost done and let her shake the last drop or two away, and for a minute I thought she was about to get on her knees to suck me, but we both heard a sound from the main bedroom and thought we were about to be interrupted at a very bad moment, so I zipped my pants up and she pulled the top of her sundress back up to cover herself. Funny enough, in those early years I can’t remember either Ex or BFF wearing much other than sundresses. They were huge in the late 70’s and women took a while in the 80’s to get tired of their boobs always falling out free. BFF left the bathroom first and I’m 90% sure I saw Ex smiling and winking at her as she flounced out of the bathroom.

“Took you long enough to take a piss ... did you need help?” Ex said with a smirking look on her face. “Not more than usual, I was already done when BFF barged in looking for her hairbrush.” She knew I was lying but was more than happy to let the matter drop for the night. It was a celebration after all ... and I’m 90% that Ex was the one that told her to go in and check on me peeing in the first place.

The wedding went smoothly and we then enjoyed a week alone in her stepdad’s hunting trailer (a nice one) up in the hill country, surrounded by nothing but quiet and overly friendly deer. I’d never been fucked morning noon and night for a week straight, nearly non-stop ever before and that probably spoiled me and helped wire my brain into a permanent “Yes dear” mode for the rest of our marriage together. Things were about to get interesting, and that was just fine by me.

The new routine I think began our first weekend ‘home’, in our new joint apartment, and after I was once more back on my 5-night a week work schedule. I think it began our first Sunday night at home as a married couple.

“BFF and BFFH are fighting over something again right now and she needs a day or two away from him. Can she stay with us tomorrow night?” Ex asked sweetly and I couldn’t think of any reason to say no, other than Monday and Tuesday were my two off nights. I liked my off nights ... it was usually a steak dinner and then a blow job while we watched porn VHS tapes together, and probably a long serious fuck afterwards. Being a newlywed was still a lot of fun for us both. Then after Ex went to bed, I could stay up the rest of the night playing with my Apple II computer. It was damn near a sacred ritual! I had to keep the work nights, sleep days body schedule. But I said sure, fine ... why not. Ex and BFF were pretty much a package deal together by this point, nearly surgically joined at the hip since middle school, and they were together constantly anyway.