Dan married the most beautiful woman he’d ever touched. By midnight, he was sitting on a sofa with his cock in his hand, watching two men he barely knew take turns with his wife in the bridal suite he’d paid for.
I signed the deposit cheque eight months ago. Four thousand pounds for the Bertram Hotel in Kentish Town, the Willow Suite with fairy lights and a chocolate fountain, the bridal suite with rose petals scattered across a four-poster bed. I wanted Holly to walk in and feel like a woman who deserved somewhere special, somewhere that proved I’d finally done something impressive enough to earn her.
By midnight, I was sitting on a cream leather sofa in that same bridal suite, trousers round my ankles, watching two men I didn’t know this morning take turns fucking my wife whilst I wanked myself raw and tried to understand why I was harder than I’d been in years.
Her name’s Holly. She’s twenty-four, gorgeous, works in a salon on Kentish Town Road, and I’ve been in love with her since the day I walked in for a trim two years ago and left with her number. I’m forty-two, facilities manager, inherited over a million quid from my great-aunt Vera eighteen months back, and I genuinely believed that money plus a decent proposal would be enough to keep a woman like her happy. I was wrong about almost everything.
The reception started normal enough; speeches, dancing, family getting drunk on free prosecco. Then Ryan, my best man’s mate, kissed Holly on the dancefloor with tongues whilst the whole room cheered them on like it was entertainment. Then Gaz, Ryan’s quiet mate, fingered her at the dinner table under the tablecloth whilst my mum watched from across the room and said nothing. Then the disabled toilet incident I heard through the door but didn’t stop, where Holly sucked Ryan’s cock and told him he was big, and I stood outside like a pathetic voyeur with my own cock leaking through my wedding suit.
By the time they walked us up to the bridal suite; Ryan and Gaz, not me, I just followed like staff – I’d stopped pretending I was going to intervene. Gaz told me to sit on the sofa, get my cock out, and watch. I did all three without argument, because some part of me that’s been hiding my whole life finally understood what it was for.
Ryan fucked her first. Seven-and-a-half inches to my five-and-a-bit, and Holly screamed his name when she came, not mine, whilst I sat there wanking and coming harder than I’d managed in a year. Then Gaz took over, thicker, rougher, and spent the next forty minutes telling me exactly what Holly’s been doing behind my back; sucking him off at the salon during work hours, putting on shows with her maid of honour Chloe at clubs in Camden, wanking off my seventy-three-year-old Uncle Barry on the fire exit during our own wedding reception whilst my mum kept me distracted inside.
I came three times watching them destroy my wife. Three times, and by the third I wasn’t ashamed anymore, I was grateful, because I’d finally found something I was good at: sitting still, staying quiet, and watching Holly get the cock she’s always needed and I’ve never been able to give her.
Then she asked if I wanted to invite someone else. Not Ryan asking, not Gaz – Holly, my wife, asking me if I wanted to arrange for a third man to come fuck her whilst I watched. And I said yes, because somewhere between the ceremony and that question, I’d stopped being the groom and started being something else entirely. Something smaller. Something that gets hard from hearing his wife admit she can’t help herself, that she’s a slut, that marriage won’t ever change what she needs.
Josh arrived twenty minutes later. Gaz’s mate, stamina like a machine, and he fucked Holly for hours whilst I watched from that sofa I’d paid extra for, the one positioned with a perfect view of the bed, like the universe knew exactly what I was going to need it for.
This is my wedding night. This is my marriage now. And the worst part, the part that’s going to keep me awake every night for the rest of my life, is that I’m happier now than I’ve ever been – because I’ve finally stopped pretending I’m the kind of man who deserves to be anything more than the person who watches, who waits, who cleans up afterwards and says thank you for the privilege.
“Cuckold Tales” book 18 – another stand-alone short novella full of explicit, dark cuckold erotica, by #1 best-selling erotica author, Chris P Rider.
Pre-order now – released 26th Sept 2026 on Amazon eBook, and free to read on Kindle Unlimited. UK AMAZON | USA AMAZON | CANADA AMAZON | AUSTRALIA AMAZON
Trigger Warnings
Content Warning: This book contains themes some readers may find distressing, including:
- Explicit sexual content and strong language throughout
- Scenes of a husband witnessing his wife’s infidelity
- Themes of humiliation and consensual non-monogamy
- Public and semi-public sexual encounters
- Size comparison and inadequacy themes
- Multiple partner scenarios
- Themes of submission and dominance
- Infidelity revealed during wedding reception
- Voyeurism and exhibitionism
- Adult situations involving alcohol consumption
Intended for mature audiences (18+) only. All characters are consenting adults.
