The Cuckquean

I unlock the glass doors of Torres Investments and hold them open for my husband.

My mother always said, “A woman walks behind her man,” and I strive to be a good daughter.

I know I’m an exotic beauty with perfect curves, a bubble butt, and knockout breasts, but my looks are no Get Out of Jail Free card. Not with my traditional Venezuelan family.

I’m proud of my heritage—my family is rich in oil money—but damn. They don’t approve of my husband. He’s Cuban or Puerto Rican—I’m not sure which—but he brings all the sexuality and machismo. He’s a novela protagonist.

When I see Alejandro, I picture dirty, virile men worshiping their thick cocks.

My mouth-watering Latino lover has a will of iron, a work ethic to rival El Jefe, and the drive to railroad us to the top of the investment world…but he’s also a slut. A man slut.

I mean that in a good, submissive way.

I’m lucky to have a man who drives women wild. I’ve spent my life in high society, and I should suffocate my freak, because it drives my husband to screw other women…but I’m proud as hell he can steam up the pool house with pretty girls and come home to me, his true love.

After he comes—shared with whoever or whatever he does the deed with—we have a special relationship, the kind that comes once in a lifetime.

We made my two favorite people in the world, my teenage daughter and teenage son. My living room is full of their crafts; fingers crossed I don’t end up with pink-haired teenagers wielding switchblades.

I look at Alejandro and dream about a soccer team of kidlets, Abuela with her un cafecito, and him with the Wall Street Journal. My life is dope.

But he’s a cheater. A world-class, filthy-mouthed, dirty cheater. And it turns me on.

There are whole websites devoted to stories and videos of cuckold men being shamed by their wives and lovers. What you don’t often find is the flip side. The cuckquean. The wife who watches and is shamed and insulted by the lover and forced to clean his cock.

I am that cuckquean.

I savor those other women’s juices on my husband’s cock, polish him like the Oscar statue, and use my fingers on my starved pussy while my husband tells me about the messes he’s made.

I listen and burn with humiliation while sucking the tastes of ground pelvis off my husband, punishing myself with orgasms. I feel unfit to co-parent with my cheating husband…but also cum harder. I never used to feel this way, which shames me. Until Alejandro started cheating on me.

The new hot office girl starts today.

When my husband’s eyes light up and he checks out the new girl—young and blonde with a tight bubble butt—I get jealous. Jealous of the things he’ll do with her that I can’t. Jealous of his hard-on and verbal jizz.

I toss my long black mane and make a beeline for my office. The new girl is here, and I need to focus on boss-bitchery.

I willfully ignore the drippy-drippy arousal streaming from my sensual parts as I contemplate being thoroughly and publicly shamed. There’s definitely something wrong with me.

Madison Grant breezes through the office toward the desk of the Devil. The boss. Mr. Wolf. My husband.

She’s wearing a form-fitting pencil skirt with a high slit that hugs her cute tush like a glove. Her celery-and-cream complexion is plumped with fresh lotion, and her white satin blouse is unbuttoned, veiling but titillating her cleavage. The