Letter to a Cuckold

by Harry Kuntz

Dear Wimp,

So you are Mary's husband, the loser, the wimp, the shrimpdick that
I've heard about.  Well, I've got good news and bad news for you,
wimp.  The good news is that until last week, Mary had been faithful
to you.  Faithful for five years of marriage.  That's almost a
miracle.  That such a drop dead, knock-down gorgeous babe like Mary
could have remained faithful to a wimp like you for five minutes is
hard to believe.  It just shows how religious she really is. And to
think that a girl like that was a virgin when she got married.  By
the way, she told me how with your limp dick, you tried and failed
several times to break her cherry, and she finally had to do it for
you with her own finger.  Even with her religious devoutness, how
could she have remained faithful to you?  Of course, she really
didn't know any better.  You couldn't turn her on, so she figured
just wasn't highly sexed.  Oh, brother!

Anyway, the good news for you is that until last week, your wife had
been faithful to you.  Until then, you were the only man who had
ever fucked her.  Which is to say, she had never been fucked by a
MAN.  The bad news, you can probably guess.  Last week, I cuckolded
you, wimp.  That's right, I gave your beautiful Mary the kind of
fucking she deserves and couldn't get in a million years from a wimp
like you.  Mary's still your wife, but she's my woman and I'm her
man.

Right now, you probably think this is some incredible hoax. But if
it's a hoax, how did I know about you being unable to deflower your
wife?  To set your mind at rest, why don't you take this letter
right now to Mary.  Ask her to look at what an incredible prank
someone is trying to play on the two of you by sending you such a
letter.  Go ahead and ask her.  Then you can read the rest of the
letter in the proper frame of mind...

Okay, Wimp, did you show her the letter?  And the minute she saw it,
those beautiful blue eyes of hers dropped to the floor, and you saw
tears rolling down those soft, soft cheeks, right?  And finally she
looked up at you through those eyes sparkling with tears, and in a
voice you could hardly hear, she said, "Yes.  Yes.  I'm so sorry,
I'm so, so sorry, but every word is true.  God knows, I don't want
it to be true, but I just can't help myself."  Am I right?  Right.
And then you felt your stomach drop to the floor, right wimp?  I
wish I could have seen your shit-eating face when Mary dropped that
blow on you just now.  But don't feel sorry for me.  I'm getting
pleasure just thinking about it, and thinking about how you are
going to feel, reading all the wonderful details I'm about to give
you.

First, a bit about myself.  I think that's only fair, so that now
that you've lost your wife to another man, you can assess your
chances of winning her back.  Do you think you can compete with me,
wimp?  (By the way, when I say you've lost her, I don't mean you
won't be able to live with her.  It's just that as I said above,
she'll be my woman--one of my women, I should say--and I'll be her
man.  Her only man!  And you'll be shit!  At the end of this letter,
I'll lay out the conditions under which you'll be allowed to go on
living with Mary.  They aren't conditions that any real man would
consider accepting for a minute. But obviously, what a real man
would do has nothing to do with what you will do.  You're so
attached to Mary, that she's certain you'll agree to anything, no
matter how humiliating.)

To start with, I'm 42 years old.  So, perhaps you think you have the
advantage of youth, since you are only 34.  But then, Mary's only
25, so the difference doesn't seem that great from her perspective.
And I'm so much more fit than you are. You are five feet, five
inches, five inches shorter than Mary.  And your five feet, five
inches, are composed of pure flab.  Mary showed me a picture of you
in a bathing suit.  What a shapeless mess you are!

I am SIX feet, five inches, a full foot taller than you.  Literally
as well as figuratively, Mary looks up to me and down at you, wimp.
At 190 pounds, I'm the same weight as you.  But what a difference!
You could look with a magnifying glass and you wouldn't find a speck
of flab on my body.  I have dark hair with just a dash of gray, and
people tell me I have movie star looks.  But perhaps you think I'm
exaggerating..  Why don't you go ask Mary to show you the picture of
me in my dress suit.  Go ahead, before you read any further..

Why the crestfallen look, wimp?  So I wasn't exaggerating a bit!  In
fact, I was being modest, wasn't I?  Guess what, wimp?  Throughout
this letter you are going to be thinking I must be exaggerating, but
you are going to find out that every word is the truth. The painful,
stinging truth, wimp.

Well, looks aren't everything.  Let's see, Mary told me you
graduated from junior college, with a degree in bookkeeping.  You've
got a crummy job as an insurance actuary, earning $30,000.  Your
chances for promotion to any significantly better job any time in
your career are nil.

I went to college at Yale, got a Ph.D. in economics at the
University of Chicago, and a business degree at Harvard.  I finished
first in my class by a substantial margin at each of those places.
I then went into venture capital and hit Silicon Valley just at the
right time.  I think I can claim to have been a success.  Successful
enough, at any rate, to retire seven years ago at the age of 35,
after I had made my third billion.

Not that I've completely detached myself from the world.  CEO's of
Fortune 500 companies and politicians in both parties are always
kissing my ass--sometimes literally-- because they want my help or
advice on one thing or another.  And I'm well known in the world of
cultural affairs.  Every major arts and cultural organization in the
country has asked me to be on its board, though I've accepted only a
select few of the positions that were offered.  So when she's around
me, Mary meets the most successful, the most glamorous, the most
sophisticated people in the world, and she participates in
conversations that you wouldn't even be able to comprehend, wimp.
Now let's compare. Mary tells me your main interest in life is your
bowling league.  You think you are going to win back Mary's
affections by impressing her with your bowling scores, wimp, when
with me she meets Senators, CEOs, movie stars, and Nobel Prize
winners?

Even though I keep a hand in world affairs, my main pursuit since
retiring has been man's greatest pleasure: Seduction!  I love the
feel of women and of sex.  I love the desire that women feel for me.
I love overcoming them and holding absolute power over them, the
sense that I am irresistible to them.  And the power they give me
over their men!

Now you may find this hard to believe, wimp, but I've never failed.
I'll target any beautiful woman I see, and I always fuck her.
Always.  So I look for challenges.  Virgins, of course, are lovely.
I guess I've popped a couple of hundred cherries, probably a lot
more.  But people who think seducing a virgin is the ultimate
pleasure are wrong.  Very wrong!  The ultimate pleasure is being the
first to seduce a married woman.  Especially if she's
extraordinarily beautiful.  And if, out of religious or moral
convictions, or love, she's never dreamed of cheating on her
husband.  If the idea of even thinking of having sex with another
man would strike her as incredible and repulsive.  In short, if
she's a woman just like Mary.  So seducing Mary was a rare pleasure
for me, wimp, and now I'm going to tell you all about it.

Mary has told me that in order to maintain even a semblance of a
middle-class lifestyle, she had to go to work to supplement your
measly income, wimp.  Since she's got much more intelligence and
energy and imagination than you'll ever have, it's no surprise that
soon she was earning more than you.  And getting more
responsibility.  Including business travel.  Of course, you never
worried about those business trips Mary was always taking.  There
was no need to.  Prim Mary, so religious and so moral and not even
aware that she was married to one of the all-time wimps, would never
think of being unfaithful. Well, you were right to be confident,
wimp, because she never, never would have thought of it.  Not until
she met me, that is!

Remember that business trip she took back in June?  She was part of
the team trying to sell consulting services to a big city
government.  It was a deal in the tens of millions, and the mayor
asked me to come along to give him some counsel.  Since I had fucked
the mayor's wife and plucked his daughter's cherry the day before, I
figured I owed him something, and I sat in on the meetings.

The meetings were dull.  I could see in five minutes what the issues
were going to be, and what the solutions were.  It took the rest of
those bozos five hours to figure it out. If Mary and I hadn't been
there, it would have taken them five weeks.

I was attracted to Mary immediately.  First of all, she was
obviously brighter than anyone else in the room.  Second, she was a
babe.  That silky brown hair, hanging straight down to her
shoulders!  Her beautiful baby blues!  The softness of her skin and
the sweetness of her mouth!  Her neck!  You know, Victorian
novelists used to talk about women having beautiful necks.
(Actually, you probably don't know, since it's unlikely you've ever
read a novel, other than porno perhaps.)  I don't think I've seen
more than five women in my life who I'd single out for having a
beautiful neck.  But Mary is definitely one of them.  Her neck is so
long and graceful.

Now underneath her neck, she didn't show much.  She wore one of her
typical dresses, one that covered everything.  But a tent couldn't
entirely conceal Mary's charms, and the prudery of her dress was a
great sign, so far as I was concerned.  This woman wasn't on the
prowl.  It would take overwhelming desire before a woman like her
would succumb.  And that was fine with me.

When the meeting was over, I asked Mary to have dinner with me.  She
refused point blank.  I mean, wimp, she really was being faithful to
you!  But I told her I had the penthouse suite in the ____________
Hotel and that she really ought to see the view from my rooms.  She
knew that was the best hotel in the city and had never been inside
it, much less in its most expensive suite.  She couldn't resist the
bait.  She agreed to come up for a drink only, and on the condition
that I not misinterpret her going up there.  I assured her my
intentions were strictly honorable.  And wasn't I telling her the
truth?  There's nothing dishonorable about cuckolding a wimp like
you.

Mary was suitably impressed by the suite.  The living room, she
said, was larger than your entire house.  And the view is as fine a
cityscape as you can find anywhere in the United States.  There were
a large number of phone messages that had piled up during the day.
I didn't know what they were but I played them on the speaker,
figuring Mary might like to hear them.  They included a message from
the President of the United States--it was his voice--two Senators,
three CEOs, a Pulitzer Prize winning writer, and two well- known
movie stars, all imploring me to get back to them ASAP.  There were
also several messages from women, begging me to come see them soon
because their husbands just couldn't satisfy them the way I do.  A
couple of those were also movie stars, probably women you've
fantasized about while jerking off.  Some of them used very explicit
language and graphic descriptions, and Mary blushed like crazy.  But
I appreciated the free advertising.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to fuck Mary right
there in my hotel suite, wimp.  But she was special, and I wanted to
enjoy some anticipation.  I contented myself with a long, loving
French kiss.  Oh, how sweet was the taste of her lips!

"Harry," she said, when we finally broke that kiss, "I've never met
anyone like you. I've never felt this way."  She hesitated but then,
struggling, said, "You can do as you wish with me."

I kissed her again.

"You're one of the most beautiful women on earth, Mary," I said.
"And very special.  I don't want to lead you into doing something
you'll regret."

She was moved by my gallantry.  What a joke!  She kissed me again,
passionately, invading my mouth with her tongue.

"But I must see you again," she said.

I told her to tell her husband--that's you, wimp--that she had
another 5-day business trip the next month.  I'd meet her at the
airport in your home city, and we'd skip over to Italy for a few
days in my villa over there.  She was thrilled.

So a week ago Monday, when Mary told you she was off to Chicago to
work on another deal, in fact she met me at the airport.  We entered
the newest and most luxuriously furnished of my three Gulfstream
private jets and took off for Italy.  Aside from the pilot and
co-pilot, there were four gorgeous stewardesses just to take care of
the two of us.  Mary was impressed.  She looked even more beautiful
than I had remembered. To think that this priceless gem of female
beauty had lived for twenty-five years and been wasted on you, wimp!
Well, that was about to change in a hurry.

The only thing that bothered me slightly was that seducing your wife
would be so easy.  She had already told me in my hotel suite a month
earlier that I could have her. Don't get me wrong.  Fucking your
wife Mary was going to be a rare delight, under any circumstances.
I just would have liked some more resistance, that's all.

So I was delighted when, after we had taken off and were sipping
glasses filled from a newly-opened $1,500 bottle of French
champagne, she said she had something serious to tell me.

"Harry, I've hardly been able to sleep from the shame of what I said
to you last time.  Thank God you were gallant enough not to take
advantage of me when I lost my head.  For that alone, I'll never
stop admiring you, Harry.  You see, what I said about how wonderful
you are, and how wonderfully I felt, that was all true.  But I'm a
married woman, Harry.  I've never been unfaithful to my husband.
Except for that crazy moment, I've never thought of being unfaithful
to him.  I never, never will do it.  Please understand. If you want
to order the pilot to turn the plane around you'd be completely
within your rights."

These words were music to my ears.  Oh, fucking your wife was going
to be such a pleasure, wimp.  I knew at that moment that I'd be
remembering the words she had just spoken when she begged me to put
my dick in her pussy.  And I knew she would.  They all do!

"Darling Mary," I said.  "Wonderful Mary, your company is all I need
to delight me.  How lovely it will be to be in Italy with you.  And
as I told you, I wouldn't dream of pressing you to do anything your
convictions tell you not to do."

She gave me a warm, lingering French kiss.  Oh, what a beauty she
is!  It was a struggle to keep my dick from growing.  But I have
complete control of my equipment, and I wanted to wait for the right
moment for her to become aware of my hard-on.

We landed on the private airstrip on my estate in northern Italy,
which is on the Riviera near Genoa.  I have twenty-five luxurious
estates or residences in various major cities and resort areas, but
I picked the one in Northern Italy for seducing Mary, because I
figured she'd like one of the cozier ones.  I won't go into details,
which you wouldn't understand anyway, wimp, about the villa.
Suffice to say that if you go to the public library and check out
almost any textbook on the history of art, you'll see it pictured as
the finest architectural example of the baroque style in Italy.  It
has forty rooms and I maintain a staff of 35, including about a
dozen strikingly beautiful young women who provide.. Well, let's say
"special services."  The rest of the staff is high priced and highly
professional.  Mary had two ladies' maids on duty through her entire
visit.  Her every whim was immediately attended to.

We landed late in the afternoon and it was a beautiful summer's day
on the Italian coast.  I dismissed the Rolls Royce and driver, and
drove Mary the five miles along the Mediterranean coast to the villa
in one of my Jaguars.  Our luggage was brought right up to our rooms
and unpacked, and we followed to freshen up.  When I rejoined Mary
in the dining room a half hour later, I asked her if her suite was
suitable.

"Oh, it's simply marvelous.  I've never even seen such luxury, much
less experienced it.  And the view of the coast is simply
breathtaking."

"And were the servants satisfactory," I asked, struggling to avoid
smiling.  She blushed.

"I- I- I'm just not used to that kind of service," she barely
managed.

"Why, what do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Wh- When I went to the bathroom, they came with me, and they.."
She was bright red, and couldn't go on.

"Yes, they cleaned your most intimate parts, didn't they?  They are
well trained. But did you object to that?"

She wasn't sure what to think, but she must have assumed it was a
European custom, and didn't want to seem unsophisticated.

"Oh, no.  It's just that I'm not used to such luxury."

I gave her a long, wet kiss.  I knew that in addition to gently
washing Mary's pussy and asshole after she used the toilet, the
maids also had fluffed up and lightly powdered and perfumed her
pussy hair, just as I like it.  My staff is always impeccably
trained.  As for me, in addition to receiving similar servicing from
my two regular maids, I had dumped a couple of huge loads of sperm
deep in the cunts of two particularly lovely members of the special
staff.  I needed some relief after all those hours, especially being
stimulated by the sight and the kisses of your wife.

We sat down for dinner.  She said it was the most marvelous meal she
had ever had.  Which, of course, it was!  We were enjoying an
after-dinner drink, a rare brandy. Each drop was more expensive than
the entire bottle of champagne we had had on the plane.

When we were finished, I led her into the living room.  The room is
almost three times as large as the living room in the hotel that she
had admired the previous month. The furnishings are in the baroque
style, but perfectly maintained in every detail.  The view of the
coast faced in a different direction than the view from her bedroom,
but was equally magnificent.  We sat on the sofa, which, she said,
is larger than the bed she has shared with you at home, wimp.

We had another hour or so of small talk. Mary is intelligent and
enjoys talking about many things.  But you wouldn't know, wimp,
because she doesn't seem to care much about bowling scores, and what
else would she talk to you about?

But after about an hour there came a moment when our eyes met, and
there was a pause.

"Mary," I said, "you are one of the most attractive women I've ever
met."  I gave her a long, affectionate kiss, enjoying the sweet,
sweet taste of her mouth.  Can a wimp like you even appreciate such
a woman?  And what a woman she is!

That kiss was the most loving we had shared yet, and must have
lasted at least two whole minutes.  Each of us was using our hands
now, stroking the other intimately and affectionately.  Then she
broke away.  There were tears in her beautiful eyes.

She said, "Harry, I'm so attracted to you.  I guess I never knew an
attraction could be this strong.  But you are so educated, so
sophisticated.  What can you possibly see in me.?"

Can you imagine Mary saying that to you, wimp?  Oh God, I almost
hurt myself, I laughed so hard as I typed that question just now.
Anyway, I kissed Mary again and said, "What I see in you is a
beautiful, intelligent, soulful woman who has never been loved as
she deserves."

She kissed me, very passionately this time.  Then, more intensely
than you can imagine, wimp:

"Oh, Harry, how I wish I had met you five years ago.  But I'm
married."

"And does that matter so very much," I asked.

She sobbed, and responded emphatically, "Yes.  Yes."

After a pause, she continued.  "I admit my husband has never made me
feel as I feel right now.  Never, not even remotely.  He never has
and he never could.  He's not in your league as a man, Harry.  Just
an ordinary guy.  But he's been good to me over the years.  A
provider.  As much as he could be, at least.  And loving and
considerate.  And faithful.  I couldn't cheat on him.  I just
couldn't.  It would be wrong.  And it would crush him."

All the while, she was sobbing hard.  When she had calmed down, I
kissed her again.  Her desire was transparent.  In her own mind, she
was absolutely determined not to give me anything more than kisses.
But I knew that seducing her from here would be child's play.

"Mary," I said quietly, "does your husband satisfy you?"

Do you think that was a low blow, wimp?  Does the mere thought of
that question being put to your beautiful wife turn your stomach?
Give her credit, she tried valiantly to defend you.  She was
obviously trying to hold back tears and, after a long pause, she
said, trying pathetically to be casual, "Oh, yes, we make love twice
a month.  And we DO love each other."

I let out a loud laugh, wimp, I just couldn't help it.  "Mary," I
said, " if I were married to you and didn't fuck you more than twice
in a single DAY, you could figure there must be something wrong with
me.  Only twice a month!  Imagine letting a beautiful sensuous woman
like you go with so little attention, so little satisfaction.  It's
a crime."

With that, I gave her another very long, very affectionate kiss.
Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but soft and beautiful as I
stroked them gently with my fingers.  We continued to kiss and I
gently stroked her glossy brown hair, then her back.  She was partly
on my lap, now, and I was able to move my hand down to her fabulous
ass cheeks. At the same time, her hands were busy on my body.  As
had always been the case before, she touched me only above the belt.
But she was enamored of my chiseled body.  It must have been quite a
change from your flab and pot belly, wimp.

"How do I compare with your husband?" I asked.

Did you wince when you read that, wimp?  Your wife winced when I
said it to her..  "Don't ask me that," she said.  "It isn't fair.
You've never seen my husband, but you know perfectly well that he
can't compete with you as a physical specimen.  What 35-year- old
man could?  You know damned well that there are twenty-year-old
athletes who'd sell their souls for a body as firm and lithe as
yours."

I don't mean to be immodest, wimp, but maybe it's true.  Enough
women have told me so.  And enough twenty-year-old athletes have
looked on enviously as I made love to their wives or girl friends.

Anyway, it was at this point that I took her hand, which was
lovingly stroking my chest, and gently moved it to my crotch.

"Feel how much I want you, Mary," I said.

Her jaw dropped.  Literally, wimp, her jaw just dropped!  I guess
she'd never known what a real man would feel like.  How could she,
being faithfully married to you, wimp?

"You're so huge," she whispered.  "And so hard.  My husband doesn't
feel anything like this."

      "Mary, you are gorgeous.  Wonderful.  As fine as any woman on
earth.  For once in your life, you deserve to know what it's like to
be with a real man."

      While I said this my other hand, the one that wasn't holding
hers against my hard penis, was stroking her crotch.  Her panties
were wet.  Sopping wet.  She was mine!

      A few minutes later, I had her dress and bra off.  I stood her
up and slid her panties down.  Well, you know what I saw at that
moment, wimp.  But pardon me if I rhapsodize. What an ass!  Globes
so perfectly round and soft and firm, and divided by a perfect, deep
cleft.  And peeking up from her crotch at the base of that gorgeous
anal valley was a thick patch of pubic curls.  I turned her around
so that I could enjoy the frontal view.  Her pubes were dark, darker
than the already dark brown hair that framed her beautiful face. But
not quite black.  Her pubes were a rich mahogany.  And such a thick,
lush, perfectly formed triangle.  I could smell the powder and
gentle perfume the maids had used to anoint her pussy, mingling with
the much stronger natural fragrance of her woman-crotch.

      She must have been nervous or embarrassed, standing there
naked as I admired her genitals.  "I've so much hair down there,"
she said.  "Do you think I should shave it or trim it like some
women do?"

      "Mary," I said, "this pussy is perfect.  Don't you ever dare
cut a single hair of it." And I planted a loving, wet kiss right on
the entrance to her pussy.  Just think, wimp. Another man tasting
your wife's cunt!

      I spent the next half hour exploring her beautiful pussy with
my mouth, with occasional excursions up that mysterious cleft to her
cute little anus.  Women tell me my oral technique is exceptional,
wimp.  Mary must have thought so.  She said you had lapped her cunt
a few times, but she never responded and the two of you had given it
up. She had thought it was her fault.  But she found out otherwise.
She came at least five times during my oral ministrations.  And
those were hard orgasms, wimp.  The hardest she had ever
experienced, she said.  But I told her things would get a lot better
than that.  She stood up and gave me another deep kiss, tasting her
own sweet woman-juices from my mouth, and pressing her naked body
close to my still fully clothed self.

      When she finally let go, I took my shirt and undershirt off,
and then my shoes and socks.  She hugged me again, pressing her tits
against my now-naked chest.  I realize her breasts are only about
average in size, but wimp, can you appreciate their shape?  So
perfectly round, such sweet nipples, so pert.  They are gems.  I
wanted her to keep pressing them into my chest forever, but she
pulled away.  She had spent plenty of time by now stroking my chest,
but this was the first time without clothing.

      "Oh, Harry," she said, "you're such a beautiful man.  This
strong chest feels so good, compared to my husband's flab.  I never
knew what I was missing."

	"Why don't you see what else you've been missing?" I asked.

      She laughed a wicked laugh.  She knew exactly what I meant.
Are you getting nervous, wimp?  I don't suppose this has been
pleasant reading so far, but even your dim intellect can probably
guess that it's about to get a lot worse.

      "Let me take the rest off," she said.  So she unbuckled my
pants and pulled them down.  She let out a gasp, when my underwear
came into view.  I have to have all my underwear made to order with
oversized crotches.  But Mary had me so hard by now that even the
triple-sized pouch could not begin to accommodate me.  The
projection of the shorts out from my body took her breath away.

      She collected herself and got my pants off.  She spent a few
seconds admiring my legs, but couldn't hold her attention away from
my crotch.  It took some effort for her to work the elastic over my
hard-on, but she finally managed.  She was rewarded with her first
sight of my manhood.  Actually, with her first sight of ANY manhood,
considering the only other naked male she'd ever seen was you, wimp.

      Usually, I like to let a woman first see my dick when it is
soft and at its smallest. Even then, it's likely to be bigger than
any hard-on she's ever seen, and she can get even more amazed when
she sees it grow.  It's a pleasant reaction to watch.  But I was so
aroused by your wife's beauty and from watching her resolve to
remain faithful dissolved by the force of my sexual power, that I
was at full size.

      Do you want the stats, wimp?  At full size, my penis is just
over fourteen inches long.  As for sickness, let's just say I pass
the beer can test (as in, thicker than a beer can) with LOTS of room
to spare.  And I get hard, wimp.  Iron hard.  Remember, Mary was
used to your limp dick that couldn't even pop a cherry.  There
wasn't the tiniest bit of give or flexibility in the big shaft she
was staring at hungrily from a distance of only a few inches.  She
could feel the radiant heat from my manhood.  She had a dazed look,
as if she was in some sort of mystical trance.

      Before she knew it, her hands were all over my shaft.  Both
her hands together hardly covered half the length.  And when she
tried to close her hands around the base, there were two inches
between her thumb and fingertips.  How do you think we compete in
the manhood department, wimp?

      "You're so much bigger than my husband," Mary said.  "I had no
idea a man could be this big."

      I asked her how big her husband was.  Cheer up, wimp, Mary
actually tried to protect you.  She said you were about seven inches
long.  A couple of days and about fifteen fucks later, she admitted
that you were less than five inches.  And then, on the flight home,
she told the truth.  Under four inches, and no thicker than Mary's
index finger. Wimp, you can't believe how much we laughed together
over that!

      After Mary spent several minutes just trying to get used to
the size and hardness and heat of my shaft, she noticed my
testicles.  "Oh, sweet Jesus," she said, "they're enormous, too.  My
husband's balls are smaller than marbles."

      Would you say balls as large as the most jumbo eggs you can
get in the grocery store are enormous, wimp?  Well, mine are a bit
larger than that.  But maybe you still think I'm exaggerating.  Why
don't you go ask Mary to show you the photographs of me standing in
the nude?  Go ahead, right now!..

      Even more downcast, wimp?  Are you beginning to believe that I
don't exaggerate?  Why should I?  I don't need to.  But maybe you
are unhappy for another reason, wimp.  When you saw the picture of
my dick, thicker than your forearm, standing proudly at attention
above my washboard stomach and extending well up to my muscular
chest, did you think about how often you've dreamed in your most
secret dreams of having a big cock and a powerful body?  Did it
trigger your deepest fantasies?  And did your pitiful shrimp dick
get hard at the thought?  Harder than it ever gets?  Am I right that
at this moment, inspired by the sight of a real man, you actually
could pop a girl's cherry?  If any girl were stupid enough to let
you, that is!

      Anyway, Mary must have spent another twenty minutes or so
fussing over my manhood with her hands and her mouth.  It was hard
to resist coming in that sweet mouth of hers, but I wanted something
else even more at that moment.  I wanted to fuck that beautiful
furry pussy of hers.  And she was READY, wimp.  She said she had
never been nearly that wet in her life.  I wasn't surprised.  Was a
five foot, five inch flabby shitpile like yourself going to make her
wet?

      I positioned my cock at the beautiful furry portal and began
to enter.  Oh, it was sublime.  Like I said, wimp, there's nothing
like taking a man's wife for the first time. Especially one so
beautiful and so virtuous.  That was the moment, wimp, the moment
you became a cuckold!  Oh, how I savored it.  I'll bet right now,
you too are savoring the thought of it.  Eh, cuckold?  Why don't you
stop here for several minutes and think about that moment, when my
penis, so much bigger and harder than yours, penetrated Mary's
pussy, the pussy that no other man had ever enjoyed.  Think about
it, and when you've finished this letter, come back to it again and
again.  The moment you became a cuckold!

      Wonderful though that moment was, I pushed right on.  From the
first, my cock was spreading the lips and walls of Mary's pussy as
they had never been spread before. For a few seconds, she was
uncomfortable.  "You're too thick," she whispered.  "I can't take
you."

      But she was so wet, that I slipped in fairly easily, despite
the thickness.  And by spreading her cunt walls I was also exposing
nerve endings that had never been stimulated before.  Her discomfort
didn't last more than a couple of seconds.

      "Oh God," she moaned.  I realize it's a clich, but I'm
telling you that your wife MOANED, wimp.  "Get it in, get it in.
Fuck me, fuck me."  Can you imagine with what satisfaction I
remembered her little speech on the plane, about how she'd never,
never be unfaithful to you, wimp?

      At this point, I had only a couple of inches more than the
head inside her cunt, but I was already deeper inside Mary than you
had ever been or ever will be.  From here on all the way up her
channel it would be virgin territory.  And I was spreading her open
as you could never dream of doing.  She came, HARD, and I wasn't
even a third of the way inside her.

      She had never had an orgasm like that, and was out of breath.
But I didn't give her any rest.  I just kept on pushing forward,
slowly and inexorably into that divine love channel of hers.  But
what would you know about it, having barely been able to touch the
walls of the entrance with your shrimpdick?  So I'll tell you, wimp.
Deep inside, Mary's cunt is wet.  And it's soft.  And it has a
million little places that rub a big cock like mine in wonderful
little ways.  And it's tight.  No, it wouldn't be tight for you,
wimp, no cunt could be that tight.  But as I pushed in, her
beautiful cunt grabbed my penis as if it was holding on for dear
life.

      Inch by inch, I entered your wife.  Six inches.  Eight inches.
Ten.  "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she started yelling.  She was
going crazy, and then she came again.  I felt her cunt walls
clutching my hard dick, and her newly secreted cum juices sloshed
around, providing more lubrication.

      On I pushed.  Twelve inches, thirteen.  There was about an
inch to go, when I felt my hard tip pressing against her cervix.  I
had hit bottom, wimp.  Mary's told me how you can't impregnate her
because your sperm count is too low, so that the two of you long ago
gave up on the possibility of a child. You won't have to worry about
that any more, wimp. Here I was, pressed right up against her very
womb.  And I pushed again, stretching her cervix to the limit.  I
was in all the way, my own thick, black pubic hair mashed against
her beautiful, dark brown curls.  Her cunt was stretched and stuffed
to its absolute limit in every dimension.

      Then I started pumping her.  Slowly at first, then very
gradually with faster in-and- out strokes.  She had another hard
orgasm, much stronger than the ones before.  And another.  They
started coming closer together.  I lost count around nine or ten,
but soon after that they became impossible to count anyway.  Her
orgasms were overlapping and had become continuous.  To tell you the
truth, wimp, I frequently get women to that state of continuous
orgasm and it's something to behold.  But I've seen very few women
get as passionate as Mary did.  There was a huge voltage of
electricity running continuously through her body, emanating out
from her fiery cunt.  When I started stroking her she was speaking.
Nothing much, just "fuck me, fuck me," and "yes, yes, yes," and that
kind of thing.  But the words gradually got incoherent and then,
when her orgasms became continuous, the sounds converted into a
steady, low moan.

      I was pumping away, loving it as much as I'd ever loved
fucking a woman.  And I really do love fucking women.  But your wife
was too much, wimp.  Usually, my first time fucking a woman, I go
forty minutes or an hour.  (Mary tells me that on those rare
occasions when you can get it up enough to penetrate her at all, you
never last more than half a minute, wimp.) It was only about
twenty-five minutes after starting to fuck Mary that I knew I wasn't
going to be able to hold out any longer.

      All of a sudden I came.  My orgasms are always REAL strong,
wimp, but this was something else.  Every nerve in my body was
running with electricity, and it felt like my big cock was a cannon.
BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  BANG!  I just kept on
coming until it seemed like it would go on forever.  And with each
explosion, massive bullets of white hot liquid manhood propelled
with tremendous velocity and power from close range right up against
Mary's stretched cervix.  My extra-potent man- fluids were headed
special delivery for her fertile womb.  That's right, wimp.  Check
your calendar and you will see that the days Mary spent with me in
Italy were the peak of her fertility cycle.  I hope you have fun
raising my child, wimp.  And you can be sure, there will be plenty
more children that I'll be planting in Mary's belly for you to bring
up after this one.

      Mary had never felt anything like what she felt when I fired
my load deep inside her pussy.  Remember, she was already in a state
of continuous, highly intense orgasm and had been in that state for
over ten minutes.  But my discharge brought her to a completely new
level. Of all the thousands of women I've fucked, I've never seen
one have such a violent orgasm as your wife climbed to at that
moment.  The force of my iron hard shaft erupting in orgasm had
begun jerking her body around the bed, but now her own orgasm
wrenched her body even more violently.  The repeated clamping of her
vagina on my cock was a sensation I'll never forget.

      Her last throes must have lasted at least two minutes.  Then
she found rest.  One of the things I love to see when I fuck a woman
well is the look of complete, unprecedented contentment that comes
over her face after the final, violent orgasm.  It's as if she's
gone to an undiscovered country, a place of complete tranquility and
gentle pleasure.  And the man who brings her to that place is the
man to whom she will belong forever.  If I hadn't already known, one
glance at Mary at that moment would have told me that I had
succeeded royally.  The look of complete calm, complete happiness,
complete adoration on that beautiful face!  It's not something you
could ever dream of producing wimp.  But you'll get to see it,
directed at me after you've been watching me fuck her.  How do you
think you'll feel when you see your wife gazing with pure adoration
at another man?

      She was in that state for a long time, just gazing at me with
complete love and worship.  Finally, she stirred,  turning over and
lying partly on my body.  She gave me a more loving, affectionate
kiss than you could possibly imagine.  While she was kissing me, a
river of thick cum-cream flowed from her pussy onto my thigh.  I
rang for the maids, one of whom licked my thigh clean while the
other tended to Mary,  licking and swallowing the copious amount of
cream that had remained inside her.

      "What would your husband say now?" I asked her, while the
maids were doing their quiet cleaning of our bodies.

      "I don't care, Harry," she said.  She gave me a warm smile, a
smile of radiant contentment.  "I don't care at all.  I can only
feel pity for him now.  He does the best he can, but he's not a man.
I know that now."

      She was quiet for a while and then continued, "Harry, I know
it's foolish to say this.  But I'm in love with you.  And I'm in
love with your wonderful manhood."

      She held it.  She was looking at it, not at me.  "Harry, for
the first time in my life, I know what it is to be a woman and what
it is to be with a man."

      She went on for quite some time, talking quietly and
deliberately about how she loved me, about how she adored my penis,
about how she was my woman forever and no matter what, about how
there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for me.

      You'll never know, wimp, how sweet it is to be able to fuck a
woman into a state where she will talk to you like that.  I've heard
it a thousand times.  Believe me, wimp, I don't exaggerate and I'm
understating it here.  I've heard words like those a thousand times.
And I'll never get tired of it.

      Mary was still talking.  "Harry, I've never felt anything
comparable to the way you've made me feel.  I swear, I'll do
anything you want me to do.  Tell me to become a whore, and I'll do
it.  Tell me to be your lowest servant, to serve you and your other
women.  Tell me to be your toilet slave, like these women here.
Tell me to cut my husband's balls off.  Whatever you tell me to do,
I will do.  But please, please let me be your woman."

      Yes, you read right, wimp.  Mary, your faithful wife Mary,
actually said she'd cut your balls off if I asked her to, as long as
I promise to go on fucking her.  Fortunately for you, I'm not into
violence.  But causing maximum humiliation for the husbands of my
women, the husbands of the women who had been completely faithful to
those husbands before I seduced them.. That's something I can take
pleasure in, and I'll have no compunctions about enlisting Mary's
assistance.

      Do you doubt that Mary said she'd cut your balls off, if I
asked her to?  Do you doubt that she meant it and would do it in
five seconds if I gave the word?  Do you want to ask her?  No?  I
see, you now recognize that every word in this letter is the truth.
Good.  For the first time in your life, you are starting to learn
something.

      We fucked pretty continuously for the next three days, with
only a little time off for an occasional meal and a drive around
parts of the estate she hadn't seen.  I offered to show her more of
Italy, but she said she preferred to fuck me.  I didn't keep score,
but I probably dumped about twenty more loads deep into Mary's
pussy, maybe ten in her throat, and three or four in her rectum.  Or
to be more precise, past her rectum and into her colon.  But that's
not the kind of distinction you'll ever need to worry about, wimp.
Of course, the maids were always nearby to remove with their pretty
tongues any and all substances from our bodies after each fuck.
That's a function you will have the honor of serving many times in
the future, wimp.

      We also had some parties.  A few of the neighbors came over,
but mostly we partied with the hired help.  Both Mary and I took
plenty of enjoyment from the "special services" my young female
staff were happy to provide. Mary really took a shine to one of
those girls, Carlotta.  She's 18 years old, blonde, stacked, and
cute as a button.  Mary's first-ever taste of cunt came between
Carlotta's legs, though I guess she got to taste each of the dozen
not to mention several of the neighbor women.  I wonder if she's
continued to eat pussy since she's been home?  But she especially
liked licking a pussy that had just been filled with a half-cup or
so of my thick man-cream.  I hope you share that taste with your
wife, wimp, because the only contact with any pussy, your wife's or
anyone else's, that you are going to get in the future, is when you
are sucking a man's cum from it.

      But do you think it's impossible that I could have come so
many times, not only in Mary's various receptacles, but in the
pretty hired help and the neighbors as well?  If you won't take
Mary's word for that, I can refer you to a couple of articles in
respected medical journals, in which my sexual powers have been
written up.  The docs think the size and unusual weight and density
of my testicles is the big factor.  Those jewels produce hundreds of
times the amount of sperm and male hormones as the average man.
Which means thousands of times as much as a sub-sub-average wimp
like you.

      On the last day, I flew back with Mary on the Gulfstream.  To
say that it was a tearful parting when we landed would be an
understatement.  She begged me to let her move in with me, even if
only as the lowliest of servants.  Every day since she's been back,
I've received at least one letter from her, sometimes two or three,
telling me how much she loves me, begging me to take her back.

      But I've made it clear to her that I won't fuck her again
behind your back, wimp. You can't say I'm not fair!  The conditions
are simple.  If you, her wimp of a husband, get down on your knees
and beg me to fuck Mary in the way she deserves, in the way that you
could never hope to do, then I'll consider it.  But you will really
have to beg, and the begging will have to be sincere.  How will I
know you are sincere?  I'll let you prove it in lots of ways.  For
example, by cleaning my ass with your tongue after I shit.  By
worshiping my testicles, sucking my rod and swallowing the loads of
cum-cream that you can only envy.  Those are just a few examples.

      You'll always be there when I fuck Mary.  Each time, you'll
have to beg me to fuck your wife, to do what you can't do.  You
claim to love Mary, and she thinks you do.  If you do, you will be
grateful to me for letting her experience being fucked by a man, a
real man.  Of course, if YOU were a real man, you wouldn't stand for
any of this.  You'd win Mary's affections back.  But you are a wimp,
a shrimpdick, a natural born cuckold.  So we don't have to worry
about those possibilities.

      Of course, no matter how much you and Mary beg me, I won't be
spending too much time with you folks. Don't let that statement get
your hopes up, wimp!  It will be my order to her not to ever let you
touch her, for any reason, except when you are swallowing my
cum-cream from her pussy.  And I don't have the slightest worry that
Mary will cheat on me.  She is a very faithful woman, you know.

      But even for someone as delectable as your sex-hungry wife, I
won't have time for more than, say, a weekend or so every month or
two.  Remember, the real pleasure in life is seduction.  There are
so many men just waiting to be cuckolded.  Ah, the pleasures of the
chase.

      I'm sure you and Mary will always be waiting impatiently for
your times with me. But don't worry.  You'll have plenty to do
between times.  I mean the work you will be doing providing a loving
home to all my children.  Just think how for the rest of your life,
every time they look up at you with childlike eyes, every time they
call you "Daddy," you will know they are the children another man
planted in your wife's belly.  A real man, not a cuckold.  Oh, you
wimp!

					Studfully yours,

					Harry Kuntz
