Mr Henry has sadly suffered a hissy fit of epic proportions, which has led to his ultimate demise.

Once he was a studly and virile lover. Sadly, over the years his prowess waned considerably, and he has been reduced to whining and wailing dramatically in lieu of any real sexual interaction. His famously short cock, albeit rich in girth, lusts vainly after strapping young Korean lads, who wouldn’t touch the crusty old gaijin with a barge pole, and so much more so not their own.

His fetish for being cuckolded was what brought about his final downfall. Unable to accept that the woman who he repeatedly claimed to love over the course of 12 years, to whom he said over and over “It’s you. It’s always been you. It will always be you.” was free of him, and no longer wanted anything to do with him, he self-imploded.

The final straw came when she told him of her life and her stable of studly, sexy, virile lovers who have never even looked at a little blue pill, and her ongoing divorce. To her, as to most normal humans, this was called “news”, or “what’s going on in my life, man who I haven’t seen since 2006”. To him, this was an invitation to self-harm, throw a temper tantrum, and finally, completely, and utterly, lose his shit.

Upon the presentation via Facebook and email, of certain lewd and inappropriate suggestions on his part, and their subsequent rejection in their entirety, Mr Henry lost the plot. Expunging himself of much hoarded bile and ill-feeling, he wrote a pissy little note to this author, speaking of how he had also expunged himself of her and anything to do with her — and how this had delighted him.

And then he ceased to be.

He was, as the Pythons would have it, an ex-Parrot. Or similar. Although as metaphors go, parrot is quite appropriate for Mr Henry. When he spoke, whether on paper or out loud, much squawking did ensue. As he got older, so his writing got grayer, like the hair on his arms, back and shoulders. His notions became more staid and repetitive. His syntax grew stodgy and stale. His charm waned considerably, and his bright spark all but vanished. His delightful eloquence gave way to turgid loquacity, and his originality transmogrified into plagiarism and dullness.

In short, what was once love gave way to vitriol and ill-wishes. Misbehavior attractive in a rambunctious, tousle-headed child became loathsome and vile in an overgrown, immature malcontent. Was he always this way? Not according to my perception, certainly not then. But now — no question.

So goodbye, stranger who was once my adored love. Goodbye, farewell, good riddance, don’t let the swing door hit you on your wrinkling, saggy ass as you flounce away.

Rest in peace.

Updated: Voted Reader’s Top Pick on Sugasm 57.

Updated 2: Fleshbotted by the very lovely Jefferson. Thank you, you sexy thang!

Fetishes are, to those who indulge, fun and arousing — a way of enhancing a sex life, maybe even a way of bringing two lovers closer together. On a more personal note, they can be a part of who a person is; in other words, simply the way they are wired. Which takes much of the issue of choice out of the equation, although not necessarily any of the arousal and/or fun.

As those of you who read here will have noticed, my darling Mr. Henry has a hotwife, or shared wife, cuckold fetish. He thrives on the combined double whammy of the jealousy at the thought of me sharing my body with another man, and the arousal that this creates; knowing that my heart and soul will always be his, that my body will always belong and return to him, and that in part, i do this for the purpose of arousing him.

What lover does not do things for their partner, for the purpose of arousal? Be it wearing sexy lingerie, or attending a public black-tie dinner function sans panties… we all do things to make our lovers glassy-eyed and panting with desire.

Henry has been known to wear a cock ring for me, for example. In public, although not on display.

However, there is another side to fetishdom that isn’t always considered, or acknowledged. Reality. And here, I speak specifically of the hotwife-cuckold fetish, since i am not experienced or equipped to write of any other.

When i say Henry gets jealous, i mean that he really gets jealous. Bang around the house, slamming off the walls, steam escaping pressure-cooker-like from his ears insanely jealous. This goes through several incarnations, and only ever happens when we are separated. The jealousy affects him in a manner that can only be described as full-blown, and the first time it happened, I was quite frightened of the effect of this upon him, and how he appeared to change.

This was, after all, something he had been encouraging me to do for many months. Something that I would never have considered doing if not for him. Not that I haven’t taken to being a hotwife like a duck to water, but the initial suggestion was his. Because of how he is. Because of who he is.

He had not so much subtly hinted as thrown giant boulder-sized clanging comments around about how he would be leaving a pack of twelve condoms in the desk drawer, and when he came back, he would be counting them and wanting to know where the missing condoms had gone, if any were missing.

“And what if none are missing?” I would routinely ask.

“That is entirely your choice,” he would reply, ambiguously. “I will never tell you what to do.”

This is all very different to his behavior in the past when we have shared a male lover. Then, the issue of covert operations, elicit despite his knowing of their occurrence, rarely made it onto the radar.

And yet he kept insisting that this was what he wanted. And so, when the occasion came to pass that Henry was overseas, and i had the opportunity to be with someone whom I had picked up via Craig’s List, I went for it.

And immediately i told him, I could hear the change in his tone. A slightly stunted timbre, a catch I was unfamiliar with. However, he repeatedly denied that anything was wrong, and so, rather obtusely, I must confess, I continued arranging to meet and fuck this young man, and then eventually did just that.

Henry went off the charts. He was fevered at the thought, motivated by his innate jealousy. But it all made him so hot. Since he had been so cavalier about it prior to my ever actually going through with such an event, I had given almost no thought to how it might affect him.

There followed what can only be described as a mandatory period of adjustment. And it was not smooth sailing. Not at all. Bear in mind that he was stuck in the Far East for an extended period of time, which made it all the more difficult for him.

We lurched from one day to the next — skimming the highs of our true love for one another, and the troughs of his jealousy and depression at his perceived inadequacy, since he couldn’t be there, that I would waltz off with the nearest cock that grabbed my attention.

Or, conversely, the nearest cock that i grabbed. Or sucked.

Naturally, his fears were completely ungrounded. I don’t think it helped that Billy was so much younger than he — I’m in my late thirties, and he is a good fifteen years older than I. Billy, being a mere 24 years of age, and single, made him far antsier than he would have felt had I been fucking a married college professor in his early forties, for example.

Eventually we managed to talk it out, once he’d managed to get past the white heat of the initial blast of full-on envy. And we began to return to normal.

He admitted to me:

“There are no guarantees, of course. But, for now, I’m okay with the new dynamic. It was inevitable. A natural progression. I accept it easier now. I know you only intend to cuck me as a means of making me hot and aroused. and it does. I just have to accept that I really, really get off on it in real life … not just as a fantasy that you purr into my ears as you slowly fuck me into delirium. I know i’ve put you through a lot. And i’m sorry for the roller coaster ride … but it’s all been new to me. The fantasy versus the reality, you know.”

I hugged him and held him close.

“Oh, my sweet darling, I know. I’m just so pleased that you’ve come full circle. That we’ve come full circle. It feels so much better now that we’re back on the same page.”

“I appreciate your patience and understanding, my darling Juno. And i love you more than my life.”

You see, Henry had realised that the reality of the situation was what he had wanted all along. That I would stray, but always return to him. He couldn’t believe that the reality would bear out the fantasy… but it truly did.

The following story is a contribution written by none other than Mr Henry himself. Enjoy.

Fleshbotted again.

Juno stood blindfolded with her arms mildly restrained behind her in soft rope and remained next to a mahogany-toned high back leather chair, wearing only high-heels and a wireless Swedish butterfly vibrator.

The arched French windows opened to provide an audacious view of Juno for astute members of the immediate neighborhood.

Standing no more than 25 feet away, I watched her squirm helplessly in front of her nude lover, enjoying her exquisite discomfort as I gently toyed with the remote control at irregular intervals. Wearing a grey suit, a blue shirt with button-down collar, and my well-worn Chelsea boots, I circled Juno, triggering the vibrator against her aroused clit, and catching her eye whenever I could.

The moods and objects throughout the room inevitably brought to mind that most resonant of adjectives: Lynchian – as in David Lynch. The spacious area was minimally lit, and propped against one wall was an Abstract Expressionist canvas.

I turned to her lover. “Dorian,” I said, “Would you like to stand close enough to Juno that she can feel your cock throbbing against her ass?”

He said nothing, but silently did just that.

She moaned. “This isn’t fair. At least untie my hands so I can stroke his gorgeous cock and fondle his balls.”

“Oh yes,” I said, “I know how much you would love to feel his dripping cock in your hand.”

I walked over to Dorian , and whispered discreetly in his ear. He knew exactly what I expected from him. I stepped away to watch, and disrobed as i did.

“Juno,” he said, standing directly against her rousing backside, and leaning into her. “I want my cock deep inside your pussy, fucking you, pumping you, stroking against your hot excited clit.”

Juno trembled visibly.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “Please, please untie my hands. Please take off my blindfold.”

Ignoring her, Dorian turned Juno around gently and caressed her large breasts. He squeezed her pale-chocolate nipples with two fingers from both hands. Juno gasped, and then swooned.

I moved closer to the couple, buzzed Juno’s vibrator, and handed her lover one of two small, adjustable nipple clamps. I fitted one, and he applied the other. Dorian moved his face so that it was very close to hers.

“I’m going to make you so hot, by playing with your nipples” he murmured, “as I fuck you, driving my cock into you, harder and harder, because I lust for you, lust for your pussy, lust for your ass … the ass I’m going to fuck, the ass I must fuck … because Henry is so jealous that anyone else might fuck your ass, and you do want to cuck him.”

“Yes,” Juno said … panting, biting at her lover’s lower lip, as he tugged lightly on her nipple clamps. “My darling Henry can’t stand the idea. Yet it makes him so very hot. We’ll do it. You know we will.”

“Oh yes,” said Dorian said, as his cocked throbbed from aching to be inside her. ” I know we will.”

Juno’s knees buckled with pleasure from the double buzz to her butterfly vibrator I administered from a few feet away.

Doran ‘s cock throbbed relentlessly. He led Juno to the oak dining room table, where he untied her hands and removed the vibrator from her waist.

“Sit on the edge of the table, and wrap your legs around my hips,” Dorian ordered Juno, not unkindly.

Juno gripped her nude lover, as instructed. His thick cock parted her labia naturally, and provoked an audible moan of approval.

My clothes remained on the floor by the couple after my earlier disrobing, and I masturbated single-mindedly.

“That’s right, pull me in closer,” Dorian directed. “Force my cock deeper inside your wet cunt. My cock will not cum until I have brought you off. I can fuck you endlessly, pounding your cunt, balls slapping against you, against your hot, sweaty thighs … pounding your cunt that I so want to fuck.”

He ceased fucking her, and led her promptly to the arm of the nearby leather couch. He bent her over without formality and inserted first one well-lubed finger in her ass … and then another.

Dorian reached over to my crumpled suit pants on the floor where he retrieved a small square package from the pocket.

This aroused me in a strange way: Juno’s lover using my condom to fuck the woman I adored.

“You know what’s next?” Dorian asked, fitting the condom snugly onto his swollen cock.

“Yes,” Juno answered almost dreamily.

“I’m going to fuck your ass in front of the man you love.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And you love the idea.”

“Yes. Please, fuck my ass. Right now. I want it badly.”

Dorian carefully worked his thick cock into Juno’s ass and fucked her slowly and gently. As he took her ass before my eyes, Juno had a heavenly look on her face.

I couldn’t possibly deny my love such pleasure. At the same time, I tugged gently on her nipple clamps as she flashed me a smile of purest complicity.