My love,

On Sunday night, the night before your most recent "date," you said, "I'm
doing this for you." I know that is true, and I want you to know how much --
how very, very much -- I appreciate and love that. I do hope it wasn't
terrible torture for you :-), but I still know it was for me. Thank you, my
love, for doing this for me.

I LOVED what you did on Monday. It was the most exciting event I can
remember.

I could review the question of why being cuckolded turns me on so, but it's
not worthwhile. It should be obvious to you that it is real for me; not one
of those fantasies which turns gold into lead when it is realized. You could
see, I know, that I savor the role that you created for me, so that's where
I start this. I would not like to live my life that way, but on the days
that we have "played the game" -- and Monday, you played it better than ever
-- I could not have been happier than to be put down, put aside and put out
as you did. For whatever the psychology behind it, it was exactly the
closeness which you shared with Ted which excited (which is another word for
humiliated, though I've still got trouble saying that) me so.

I want to tell you what I loved, and to thank you for the gift you gave...
to me, and to Ted.

I loved how easily you went into the bedroom with him, without me. I loved
hearing you talk, and giggle, and discuss how I'd react when you threw your
clothing out the door -- and how you picked up your bra and tossed it
further, to be sure I could see. I thought of him seeing you, my wife, when
you would not allow that to me. You looked so happy to be walking to the
bedroom with him -- my wife, and another man.

I loved coming into the room, and confronting the image of you -- completely
naked, legs spread -- for him. You looked so comfortable giving her body to
him.

I loved the look on your face as he touched you and pleased you. You looked
so turned on as you felt him touch your intimate places.

I loved watching him massage your back, your legs, your ass, and how you
kept humping your ass up to meet his hands when he touched you there. You
looked so excited as he got you ready for sex.

I loved how you got on top of him, and reached down to guide his penis into
you. You don't know this, but your vagina was literally gaping open. I have
seen you many times when we were about to have sex, and I have never seen
anything like that; from my vantage point at the foot of the bed, I could
see all the way up inside you. Words are one thing, but I loved how your
body was hungry to have him inside. Bodies don't lie; you wanted him.

I loved how his big penis slid into you so easily, with no artificial
lubrication needed. Watching from between your legs, I saw how he stretched
you. Every once in a while the head of his penis would emerge, and as you
moved your body back down on him, I watched as your lips opened wider to fit
the "crown," then -- as you always describe it, with such a wicked smile --
"pop" back around him. Sally, I saw the pop! And yes, love, I loved seeing
something that made you feel so good, that only he could do for you.

I loved how you fucked him so intensely that he came quickly; the man has a
*lot* of self-control, and when he came I felt that you had really done a
number on him. I loved watching him lose control of himself to your sex. Not
only did your body stroke his penis to orgasm, but with each deep stroke and
each groan, I was tortured (with pleasure) by the knowledge that I'm not big
enough to feel what he was feeling in you. Watching the two of you share a
pleasure that I cannot know, and that you cannot know with me, was
humiliating -- and breathtaking.

I loved -- I truly loved -- watching him cum in you. There is no moment of
feeling cuckolded so strong as when he cums in you. I watched you turn him
on -- willingly, you offered him the ultimate pleasure of your body -- and I
watched him ejaculate into you. As I sat there masturbating, with my cock
waving impotently in the air, he completed the sexual act with you. I
watched his body spasm and he filled you with his sperm; what greater
cuckolding could there be, than to watch another man inseminate my wife? He
did that, and for the rest of the day, and the night, and the following day,
I was haunted, and shamed, by the knowledge that his sperm was swimming
inside you.

I loved watching Ted make you cum. I loved the looks of absolute pleasure,
absolute joy, and absolute amazement on your face, as you kept yourself at
such a point of excitement for so long. Watching your face as he slid his
cock all the way into you, and used it to pleasure you, was breathtaking.
And watching you orgasm in his arms... I will never, ever get used to that.
I watched you cast off all appearances, all pretenses, and cum before his
eyes: he felt you, he saw you, he heard you. That is supposed to be mine
alone, isn't it? I loved watching you give that gift to him. Oh yes, my
wife: he made your toes curl!

Afterward, you cuddled. Now, I cannot say how you felt about this, but I
loved watching the two of you. You were *comfortable* together; that was
absolutely awesome for me. You were both so at ease with each other, with
each other's bodies; I watched in awe as another man fondled you, with your
complete acquiescence, and how you touched him with no discomfort at all.
You gently stroked his body, and he caressed your nipples, your shoulders,
your pussy, everywhere. You did that for nearly an hour, and I sat in the
chair, alone. You cuckolded me, my love.

Believe it or not, I loved when you sent me out to get pizza. When I was
delayed, I kept wondering what the two of you were doing; I felt so stupid,
running errands as my wife lay in bed with her lover. When I returned and
you told me that you had made him cum with your hand, I was angry; I felt
cheated out of watching. Then I realized that this, too, was part of being
your cuckold; it didn't matter what I wanted, because you did what *you*
wanted. I loved realizing that you had made him cum because you wanted to,
not because of me. And I loved being sent on an errand, like the kid brother
being given money for the movies so his big sister could make out with her
date.

I said so to both of you, but I was taken aback by how humiliating it was to
sit and talk with Ted while you were in the bathroom. There I was, sitting
in "my chair" at the foot of the bed, while he lay naked in "your" bed. He
made small talk with me, as if this was perfectly normal; we were each were
we belonged. His cock was soft, but it was lying there in front of me; he
made no attempt to cover himself, and I felt he was laughing at me (though
he was too much of a gentleman to show it), for what he had done with my
wife. I couldn't help staring; even soft, he's larger than I am, and the
head of his cock -- that head which you speak about in such dreamy terms --
was staring back at me. He was soft because my wife had fucked him and
jerked him off, while I sat in a chair and went to get pizza. I tried not to
show it, but I was embarrassed beyond words by that experience.

The final time you made love was something I will never forget as long as I
live. You did it all, right in front of my face; you pleasured him and he
pleasured you, and the result was complete humiliation for me, your husband.

After I recovered from the "news" about your making him cum while I was out,
you asked if I had any requests. I said yes, two: one, that you have sex
again; as soon as I said that, you looked at each other, wrapped your arms
around each other, said "I think we can arrange that," and fell into a very
sensuous kiss. As you did, I just about croaked out the words, "That was my
other request -- that you kiss each other now." You said, "Great minds think
alike," and you were, literally, off and running.

I loved watching you make love to his penis with your mouth. He had cum
twice, and I don't know whether he or I was more surprised that he got so
hard so quickly; the only one who didn't seem surprised was you. Watching
you lying naked on the bed with his penis in your mouth was thrilling;
watching and hearing his reactions to you was almost beyond what I could
bear. I loved watching you turn him on.

When you got on top of him again, and used your hand to guide him inside
you, he groaned with such total pleasure that it twisted my stomach. With
your permission, I sat on the floor next to the bed, where I could watch
your faces as you fucked him, and what happened next was... there just are
no words. You used your whole body to pleasure him -- you put your breasts
in his face, and slid them along his chest; you raised your hips up until he
was almost completely out of you, then you dropped onto him as hard -- and
as deep -- as you could. Each time, he groaned and gasped in pleasure, and I
shook with humiliation and excitement combined. You seemed totally focused
on exciting him; the way you moved your body, the way you twisted your hips
to move him inside you... it was awesome.

At one point, you slid your body down tightly onto his; he groaned, and he
said, "Oh, you really do like it deep, don't you?" As you ground your hips
into him you gasped out your response: "He... never... touches... me...
there." As I sat there on the floor, next to your bed, the most awesome part
was knowing that it was true. I looked down at my cock, as hard and as big
as it ever gets, and knew that I could not ever do what Ted was doing, and
you were loving, at that moment.

What you did next will always -- always -- remain in my mind, and excite me
beyond words. You laid your head down on his chest, his cock deep inside
you, and you looked at me. Sally, you looked RIGHT AT ME, and you gently,
seductively, wickedly said, "First floor, second floor, third floor,
penthouse." I knew what was happening as you said that: you were doing the
"Kegel Exercises" which you learned in Lamaze, to tighten your pussy
muscles. With each "floor," you were tightening your belly and squeezing him
inside you! When the "elevator" reached the penthouse the second time, he
groaned out loud and shook with pleasure... and you, with your head resting
gently on his chest, smiled at me! That moment was the most awesome,
breathtaking, humiliating moment of my life, as you allowed me to see the
pleasure you took in pleasing your lover. Thank you, my love, for sharing
that moment with me!

I could tell he was close to cumming, when suddenly he pulled out of you and
flipped you onto your back. I don't think I'll ever get used to the sight of
you spreading your legs so wantonly, and reaching your hand down to guide
his cock into you. Now there was nothing gentle, nothing subtle; he pushed
inside you and fucked you hard. Sally, I'm sorry that I never knew you liked
it so hard; I'm not sure even you knew it until he showed you how it felt. I
promise I'll try to do it more like that, but watching him take you, I don't
think I will ever be able to match his strength, his stamina OR his size.
Watching him push into you, seeing his penis shine with your wetness as he
pulled out on each stroke, and listening to the obscenely delighted noises
you were making... I was honored to be allowed to watch, to witness him
pleasing you so!

And then, my wife, your lover came in you again. Less than a foot away from
my face, he orgasmed in you. Grunting and groaning like an animal in heat,
totally uninterested in my feelings or even my presence, he found his
release in you. I watched his body spasm over and over again, as he pumped
his seed into you before my eyes. You held him tightly against you with your
arms, your legs and, I knew, with your pussy, until he was completely
drained.

When you caught your breath you turned to me, saw the cum dripping down my
hand, and said, "I'm glad you enjoyed that. But you didn't enjoy it as much
as I did."

Later, as we left the hotel, I thanked you for what you did. I said that
from these three "dates," my deepest fantasies had been fulfilled, and if
you wanted to stop, It was fine with me. You asked if *I* wanted to stop,
and I said no, but I was comfortable with whatever you chose to do. You
thanked me, and we drove home.

Three days later, you sent an email to Ted.

You asked him to check his calender, to see when you could meet again.

I love you, my wife. More than words -- even all these words -- can say.

Love, Paul.