Hubby's Cuck Seat: Wife Bounces on BBC

I never thought I'd be the type of guy to confess something like this, but here I am, spilling my guts about the hottest, most humiliating night of my life. My name's Tim, and I've been married to my gorgeous wife Lisa for eight years. She's 32, with curves that could stop traffic—full D-cup tits, a juicy ass that jiggles just right, and long auburn hair that cascades down her back like a waterfall. Me? I'm your average mild-mannered accountant, 35, fit enough from the gym but nothing special down below. Five inches on a good day, and Lisa's always been sweet about it. But lately, her fantasies have taken a turn, and I've been right there with her, my heart pounding with a mix of jealousy and excitement.

It started with her obsession over Marcus, this dominant black bull she'd been chatting with online for months. He's 28, built like a linebacker—six-foot-four, ripped muscles everywhere, and from the pics she'd shown me, his cock was a monster. Thick as my wrist, veiny, at least nine inches. Lisa would whisper about him while we fucked, moaning how she needed a real man to stretch her out. At first, it stung, but stroking myself to her stories got me harder than ever. We talked it out—no secrets, full consent—and agreed I'd watch from what she called my "cuck seat." A sturdy wooden chair in our bedroom corner, right in view of the bed. I'd be locked in a cock cage she'd picked out special for me, the kind with spikes inside to punish any straining. Humiliating? Fuck yes. But the thrill of seeing her get what she craved? I was hooked.

That Friday night, tension crackled in the air like electricity. Lisa pranced around our bedroom in a skimpy red lingerie set, the lace barely containing her tits, her thong riding up her plump ass cheeks. She was buzzing with energy, snapping selfies for Marcus while I sat on the edge of the bed, my dick already twitching in anticipation. "Baby, text him now," I said, voice shaky. "Tell him to come over. I want this. I need to see you happy."

She grinned wickedly, her green eyes sparkling as she typed on her phone. "Oh, Timmy, you're such a good little cuck. Already scheming to watch another man claim your wife?" Her fingers flew: Hubby’s locked and ready. Come stretch me out, Daddy. Door’s unlocked. She hit send, then turned to me, cupping my face. "You sure, honey? Once Marcus gets here, there's no going back. You'll be in your seat, caged and helpless, while he fucks me like you never could."

My stomach twisted, but my cock throbbed. "I'm sure, Lis. I love you. Make me watch."

She kissed me deep, her tongue invading my mouth, then pushed me toward the chair. "Strip, cuck. Time to lock up that useless clit."

As Marcus arrived twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed like a starting gun. Lisa squealed, adjusting her lingerie before flouncing downstairs. I heard her open the door, her voice dripping honey: "Marcus! God, you're even bigger in person." Heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs, and there he was—towering in the doorway, dark skin gleaming under the bedroom lights, wearing a tight black tee that hugged his pecs and jeans straining against a massive bulge. He smirked at me in the corner, already half-naked, my cock stuffed into the shiny steel cage she'd just clicked shut around my waist. The key dangled from a chain between her tits.

"Damn, girl," Marcus rumbled, his deep voice like thunder. He pulled Lisa close, groping her ass possessively while staring me down. "This your hubby? Looks like a bitch already caged up."

Lisa giggled, grinding against him shamelessly right in front of me. "That's Timmy. Isn't he pathetic? But he's cool with it. Aren't you, sweetie?" She blew me a kiss, then turned back to Marcus, her hands roaming his chest. Slowly, teasingly, she peeled off her bra, her heavy tits bouncing free, nipples hard as diamonds. The thong came next, sliding down her thighs to reveal her shaved pussy, already glistening. "Like what you see, bull? Way better than Tim's tiny white dick."

I squirmed in the chair, the cage biting into my swelling shaft. Marcus chuckled, kicking off his shoes. "Tie his ass down first. Make sure the cuck can't do shit."

Lisa grabbed the ropes we'd prepared—soft but sturdy—and bound my wrists behind the chair back, ankles to the legs. I was stuck, facing the king-sized bed, my caged cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor. "There," she purred, trailing a finger along my cage, making me whimper. "Now you're my official cuck seat. Watch and learn."

The escalation hit like a freight train when Lisa dropped to her knees before Marcus, her eyes locked on mine. She tugged down his jeans, and holy fuck—his BBC sprang out, semi-hard and already dwarfing me. It was enormous, chocolate-brown, veined like a roadmap, the head fat and flared. "Oh my God," she moaned, wrapping both hands around it. "Timmy, look at this. It's twice your size already, and it's not even full mast."