My wife and I had been having issues for some time. We were both in our mid-30s. Although we were extremely physically compatible with each other, we had other differences that were causing us a good amount of conflict. Eventually we decided we would take some time apart. We continued talking and e-mailing daily. A couple of months later, she learned that I was regularly meeting up with a younger female friend from time to time after drinks to talk. It was for the most part platonic, but her suspicions were aroused, and she decided one night to go to her local bar to make a new friend too. She's a beautiful little blonde and it didn't take long for a young, tall, good looking grad student to approach her. She e-mailed me the next morning and told me all about how he hit on her, and how they kissed at the bar, but nothing more. My heart was pounding when I read this. I was enraged, but to my surprise, extremely turned on. I had never felt so hard in all my life as I read and re-read this description. Not surprisingly, he began texting her constantly, asking for a date. A few days later we were talking on the phone, and fell into a vicious argument. She was sure I was having s** with my coworker, which was actually not the case. I, in turn, became angry and, in a flash of anger, told her to go f*** her young student and hung up the phone. I went for a walk to calm down, but soon I began to panic. I called her phone. No answer. I called again and again. By this time it was close to midnight. When I got back to the apartment and tried to go to sleep, the thought that she might be at that young guy's place right now, getting pounded, almost drove me out of my mind. I called her phone all night. It started to ring again, but no answer. Eventually it was morning, and I had to go to work. Around 10:30am she called me. "Why were you calling all night?" she asked angrily, "It was embarrassing." My heart began to race. Why embarrassing? I began to grill her about where she had been. At first she was reluctant, deflecting the questions with answers like, "You and I are currently both free to do what we want. I don't need to tell you anything." Finally she told me. Yes, she went to the grad student's place. They had a drink and smoked a joint and then, she told me, Eric made his move. As I was hearing all these details that she was telling me with excited anger, I felt I was going out of my mind. But in a sick way, I was also enjoying it. I wanted to hear every detail. "He's tall," she said, "I couldn't believe how long his c*** was when I took off his pants! It just kept going up and up. It was frightening" I suddenly found myself begging her to tell me how much longer he was than me. Probably about two to three inches, she snickered, understanding that I was in a weird way enjoying this. She told me how he undressed her, had her model his hot little body in front of him for a while and then picked her up and held her upside down to eat her out while she sucked his long c***. Then he bent her over the bed. She could feel his long c*** "bumping up against her stomach," causing a pleasant burning sensation she had never experienced before. They went to bed, and thinking that I would no longer be calling, she turned her phone back on. Around 4am I had called, and it woke them up. She said the ringing had woken up Eric and as she went to turn the ringer off, she could feel Eric's long, hard, 26-year-old c*** poking her in the ass. They had s** three more times that evening, once in the hallway as she was preparing to leave for work. "So how does it feel, you b******, knowing that the girl you supposedly love has got another man's sperm in her stomach?" I heard the words coming out of my mouth, "I need to see you." Although our home was a good 5 miles away, I ran straight from work to her place. I could have taken the subway, but the thought of sitting still or waiting for a train felt unbearable. When I arrived at her place, she was wearing nothing but a bathrobe, having just washed up. We began kissing passionately. When I took her robe off, I saw marks on her back. She laughed when I told her I noticed this. I begged her to show me the underwear she was wearing that evening. Sure enough, they were stained from her own wet marks, and sniffed them like a hungry dog. We started to have s**, and I asked her to tell me that she missed Eric's big d***. She obliged and I came right away. "Pitiful," she said, snickering. We had s** again and again that evening. At one point, Eric began texting her, driving up my insane jealous even more. I knew from that point on our relationship was on a different footing. She was in control, and I was reduced to the state of a pitiful cuckold. She could go f*** Eric at any time, and she knew I would be there when she got back, wretched but somehow loving every minute of it.