Queen for a Day: Part 1, A David and Sarah Short

Alright! I've got some unfinished cuckqueaning business with David and Sarah from 30 Days that's been hounding me, so here we go on their next sexy adventure. At this point I'm going to put A Prince's Duty to bed and call it day as Chloe's just not working with me on that one. Sorry about that. All the usual cuck warnings apply here, this time on the -quean rather than the -old side of things, so if it's not your thing just give it a pass. For those that are following this loving pair, enjoy!  😄

***

With a full load of fuel and Bob Marley on the speakers I am humping back into the city on my way to the next service station that needed filling. As I pull my rig around the smooth curve of an offramp then seamlessly merge into the eastbound lane I am already thinking ahead to my last run of the night when the flow of traffic would be the harbinger of the morning gridlock to come. I loved these hours, this quiet span from midnight to six when the city belonged to the night owls and misfits. During this time the city transformed, its population that of drunks, junkies, cops, cabbies, hookers, and those of just trying to make an honest living through the witching hours, and while you would occasionally see some of the wildest shit out here for the most it was quiet and peaceful. And I liked that. I’d already pushed hard to bring my schedule back to five days a week so that my wife Sarah and I could focus more on us but I wasn’t sure how dogged I would be in chasing the day shift. Once Sarah and I had a little one, which we were working tirelessly toward, sure. But right now life was good.

As I glance over at the GPS to see if there were any updates or delays along my route I catch the date at the corner of the screen. March 4th. Without even a second delay my mind seizes on the 4 and casts back to exactly a month ago, the day I’d last been cuckolded.

I shake my head as I recall how the dominoes fell until culminating in me sitting in my living room, a blanket over my lap to conceal the shameful fact that my caged cock had prejacked in my pants, as I watched Emile the delivery driver rail my beautiful wife in front of me. I’d convinced myself leading up to it that we were simply ‘hotwifing’ or ‘wife-sharing’, but once his dick was out to reveal that he was a half inch bigger and teeny bit thicker it turned into a cuckolding through and through. There was just something hardwired into me that automatically went there if I perceived another man superior to me in any way while he was with Sarah. I don’t think Emile had a clue that he had graduated from convenient boytoy to ‘bull’ in the course of his time with my wife, but she and I both knew the shift had happened. My cucking was complete when he proved to have impressive natural stamina to boot, doubly impressive considering he was a virgin! That tidbit had come as quite a shock to both Sarah and I once it was all over. Cucked by a younger virgin delivery driver half my size, what humiliation! But ohhhhh what a fucking high! I’d been riding it ever since.

I pull in along the side of one of my regular all night gas stations, the white lights of its canopy blazing brighter than the midday sun. As I shut down my rig I can see the jockey trotting out to unlock the hookup. I jump out and make small talk with him for a few minutes before he is called away by a customer pulling up to the pumps. As I stand by the thick hose waiting for the transfer to complete I dwell on the leftover glow I’d just been thinking about.

It was one of the strangest and most counterintuitive things about Sarah and I’s broadening of our sexual horizons that began back in November. In allowing myself to be humbled in the most intense way a married man could be I found that afterward my swagger hit new heights. It made no sense, but it was what it was. It was as if in blowing off the pressurized steam of my secret fetish I could then relax for awhile and rediscover my masculine confidence without that niggling urge always pestering me. It only worked of course because of Sarah. Without her love, understanding, patience and open-mindedness what was a kinky thrill could have instead been soul destroying. She knew, as if by instinct, just how far to push things and precisely when to pull back again. In the bedroom we could get naughty but in our everyday life she never made me feel lesser or unmanly for the desires I harbored and not once had her loyalty wavered.

Did our new lifestyle make things weird from time to time? Abso-fucking-lutely. I’d lost an old friend, had an embarrassing run-in with a neighbor, every time I saw her coworkers it tickled the back of my mind that they had all been with my spouse, and now there was Emile running grocery deliveries around our neighborhood who, whenever we saw him, would give us a little smirking glance to signal that he’d not forgotten what happened on February 4th. Indeed, none of us would be forgetting that anytime soon. It could make things awkward but this path we’d chosen was high risk, high reward.

February had been another incredible month both personally and for Sarah and I. So much love, so much fun, and so much sex! Outside receiving the big news that we kept trying for, we couldn’t have been happier. Although…I could feel the pressure building once more. Manageable, but building. I knew it was rising because as I standing there I couldn’t help but wonder about the hose of the schlubby dude pumping gas.

“Jesus Christ.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Easy there big fella.” I finish up and I’m soon back on the road for my second stop on this run before taking my lunch. As I drive I allow myself a few minutes to bask in the fantasy my imagination had conjured from nothing just a moment ago…before recoiling in disgust. Sarah was WAY outside that guy’s league. Although…if he had a big hog… I shake my head again. “Jesus.”

Yep, the urges were definitely back. It was likely no coincidence they’d returned with the coming of a new month. It wasn’t written in stone but Sarah and I had tentatively agreed that our little adventures could be monthly, but no more. We could do less if wanted but by limiting it to once a month we felt that our special bond could remain strong. We wanted to be sure that in the end we would always be satisfied with just the other. While we enjoyed being kinky but we didn’t want our lives to be dominated by wilder and wilder sexual exploits. We’d both heard horror stories that we wanted steer well away from.

Again at my next stop I find myself standing and waiting and letting my erotic imagination wander.

A new month. A new opportunity. What would we get up to? If anything. The fact that Emile was just a phone call away pulled my attention that way. It was convenient. Almost too convenient. Had I not trusted my wife with my whole heart it would have worried me to have a bull on demand, particularly because he’d made no secret of the fact that if called upon he’d be ready to take up the mantle of wife fucker once more.

“Here we go.” I grumble as I spot the wobbly stride of a lot lizard heading right for me like a cash-seeking missile. As always I am polite but firm as I turn her away. My heart breaks a little as I watch her wander away again. This one was looking ROUGH. She couldn’t have been much older than me but from ten yards back you’d swear she was on the downhill side of 40. She made me grateful for the wonderful woman I had at home and the blessed life that I was living. As she disappears into the convenience store I call out to the pump attendant. “Hey, man.” I nod after the hooker. “Get her a sandwich or something. I’m almost done here. I’ll settle up when I come in. Just don’t tell her it was from me.” He gives me a strange look then shrugs his shoulders and heads inside.

The offer of sex from a woman other than my wife sets my thoughts into a new direction. Fending off prostitutes was a part of my job that I’d always minimized when talking to my self-confessed jealous spouse. I knew it would only upset her. Or at least, that used to be the case. As with so many other facets of our life, things were changing.

Since Emile in particular Sarah had started to talk more and more about the idea of sharing me with another woman. I assured her that I was completely content with being a one woman man but she continued to broach the topic, despite it being such a challenge for her even to think about. I knew that she felt it unfair that she was the only one enjoying new lovers. To her it felt unfairly one-sided and not a shared challenge. She was also extremely curious to experience the other side of cuckolding. While she accepted my kink she admitted that she didn’t entirely understand it. Add to this her playful and adventurous spirit. She’d cuck me month after month if I pressed the issue, but that was selfish as I knew deep down she wanted this path to be a shared adventure of discovery and not a simple hotwife arrangement. And finally, she was getting a lot of pressure from her kinkster friends at work to reel me into their fun. Her friend Maria in particular HUNGERED for a big man that could play the role of ‘Daddy’ for her.

I liked Maria fine. More than fine. She was friendly, outgoing, good looking and, as Sarah put it, she had this indescribable ‘it’ factor that made her oh so sexy without even trying. It seemed a natural next step into true swinging, which it seemed we were destined to try. But…something didn’t feel right about Maria. More precisely, a lot of somethings. First and foremost I wasn’t comfortable with her whole Daddy fixation. It was a bit much. Everything about her was a bit much. Her and her Master/husband Javi had a fully stocked basement dungeon and their own gimp for goodness sake! I really didn’t think I could get my mojo goin with a partner that I knew had done it all and seen it all and gone WAY further into the deeper waters of kink than I dared to swim. Not for my first time at least. Simply put, she intimidated me. For Sarah I could be the simpering submissive, but I trusted her like nobody else. To harness the stallion within I needed my virility at full gallop and a rider who could appreciate the steed beneath her.

I think what bothered me most of all about Maria, or any of her ‘cool club’ gang, was that she would be the one arranging it all. While I had gotten the ball rolling back in November it was Sarah to take all the chances and push all the boundaries. In January it was Sarah’s contacts and Sarah’s playful scheme that made our ‘cuckation’ happen. And even last month, though I had been the impetus for getting her with Emile it was in the end her willingness and good looks that captured our quarry. Thus far she’d pretty much done it all with me as a willing yet passive passenger.

Once the hooker had disappeared back into the night I head into the store and settle up. Back in the truck I pause a moment before starting it up and rolling out again. I had a packed lunch but I was in the mood for something hot. As I cruise, the regular rhythm of streetlights almost hypnotic, my thoughts return to where they’d left off.

Despite all of my misgivings, with the subject being broached so regularly, I confess to be softening to the idea of laying with another woman. I’d only been with Sarah for a long time now. Though I didn’t desire anyone else I couldn’t deny a libidinous curiosity of what it would be like to be with someone else again. I could barely even remember what it was like with my other lovers now. Maybe it was about time to shake things up again. I would surely only be the better parter for expanding my horizons. With a grin I again shake my head and this life I now lead. My own wife was trying to hype us both up for me getting with another woman. Most husbands would probably trade their left nut for such freedom!

No matter how I approached it though I just wasn’t at ease with being the passenger this time. I didn’t want Sarah taking the lead. I didn’t want to just show up and do the deed. And I didn’t want it all arranged as if I was too hopeless to get a woman myself. I loved to play the cuck for her, LOVED it, but that wasn’t what defined me. In the future, if this became a thing, I am sure I could get down with all sorts of different arrangements. Her friend Casey being a dominatrix definitely piqued my interest. But for the first time? No. Just something in my soul or the way I was raised but I wanted to prove to her, and myself, that I was still that same strong, handsome, desirable man she’d fallen for all those years ago.

By the time I am pulling into the all-night truckstop I had promised myself to give this more consideration in the future. It might never happen but I’d stay open to it. But right now it was just too soon. I wasn’t prepared and neither was she. Watching your beloved in the arms of another was not for faint of heart. For this month’s naughtiness I am sure that I could convince Sarah that another round with Emile would be more than enough. I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure she’d jump at the chance to jump his bones again. Or perhaps we could reminisce over November and find another kink to explore. Whatever we ended up doing I knew we’d make it a worthy new addition to our growing catalog of adventures.

I take a look around to make sure I didn’t see Bradley’s rig in the lot. It was a slim chance he’d be here being a long-hauler but this was one of the haunts we used to frequent and I wanted to be sure. It was a needless though as even if he was here he’d surely be sound asleep in his bunk at this time of night. I hop out and stride for the welcoming warm lights of the greasy diner.

Inside I find the place nearly deserted. There was just a pair of my fellow truckers in the corner enjoying some hot coffee and warm grub. I was just about to head that way to see if I could join them and strike up a conversation when a gasp pulls my attention the other way.

“Oh…my…God!” The waitress stands six feet away, her dark eyes as wide as they could go. “David!?”

For a moment I stand staring and the slender Asian woman as my mind scrambles to put her face or voice or anything about her into context. As I study the shape of her attractive face and peer into her deep, dark eyes her identity gradually unfolds like a blooming rose. I did know this woman. In another time and another place. She didn’t look like she did now. In my mind’s eyes I could see her short black hair grow long and fold themselves into two braided pigtails. I see her shrink a full foot and more. I watch as thick, round coke-bottle spectacles sprout from her cute nose to make her already big eyes grow three times in size. The metallic glint of braces appear over her perfect, pure white teeth. She continues to shrink smaller and smaller until she is just like I first saw her. And finally I see tears rolling down her chubby cheeks and two streaks of blood pouring from out of her reddened nose to stain her pretty green dress, all gifts from the bullies who’d just accosted her. Bullies who would shortly receive a visit from the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the schoolyard.

“Annie!?” I gasp. “Little Annie Yung?” I look up and down her long, lithe, shapely body as it really was today. “You’ve grown!”

Part 2