Hi Ms. Sassa,
Miss Sassa said:
When did you know you were a cuck? I myself have only dated cucks. I can pick them out in a heart-beat.
Interesting. You date only men you identify as actual or potential cuckolds, I gather, because you know they will accept — and even be turned on by — you fucking other men, thereby exerting your sexual and psychological dominance over them, while at the same time they provide you with their (relatively) long-term personal and emotional support...?
Miss Sassa said:
I have talked to many, and one thing that always is intriguing is the moment you figured out that your woman getting the big cock she deserves is a turn-on for you, and made your little dicklet stand up. I would like to know what moment that was for you. — Mistress Sassa
That would be the first time I began sleeping with a woman. At the time, I was sharing a rental-house with 7 other men (mostly early- to mid-twenties) near the campus of a large university where she and I were students. The other men and I shared the rent and had a "food club" in which we rotated buying groceries and preparing dinners (and cleaning up), so we had meals every day. A couple of food-club members did not live in our house; they included the woman I asked out.... she made it clear she wanted to be quiet about it.... then, that same night, she and I went to her place, which was nearby. Once in her room, she asked me to move my car so I wasn't parked outside, before we.... well, ya' know.... proceeded further.
We spent the night together, then.... the next morning.... she admitted she was fucking one of the other men who lived in "my" rental house. She went on to say she would break up with him. (This surprised me, because they always argued when they were together. I thought that meant they disliked each other, and hadn't realized that meant they were lovers.) I said "OK," or something mild to that effect, and we continued our relationship.
At some point early-on in our relationship.... I can't recall when, exactly.... I told my new lover that if she wanted to sleep with other men (not just me), I would be OK with that. She obviously had other choices, at least potentially, while I didn't — at least, not without initiating another search, which... not being outgoing, particularly... I was not eager to do.
I did not tell her that, however, because of any realization that I would be turned-on, either secretly or openly, by the idea or the reality of her fucking other men. Those were the early days of women's liberation (aka women's lib) (we're going back a ways in history, here), and I identified rather strongly with that movement. For reasons of my own, which I'm not sure I understood all-that-well myself at that time, I felt that women should have all the same rights and privileges in society that men had (and have). Also, it was what's generally thought of as the time of the sexual revolution. The pill had been invented and was available, so a woman could fuck whomever she wanted to freely, without fear of consequences any more than might be felt by a man. (Our first night together, as I fumbled with a condom while trying to maintain my erection, she told me not to worry about it — she was on the pill.)
My woman never said anything about accepting (or not) my comment that it was OK to continue fucking her previous lover. But, gradually I became aware she was almost certainly.... then later, certainly.... doing that. She was always very wet when she and I went to bed. Being quite naive in those days, it took quite a while for me to realize what that meant. Rather, I assumed she got hot-and-horny rapidly.
After a while, we broke up.... but not because she was fucking other men. And, she never said anything about the size of my cock vs. other men's cocks. From my experience in jr. high and high school gym-class showers, I had no reason to think my cock was anything other than about average. I didn't even realize that was supposed to be an issue.
Rather, we ended our relationship because she was very assertive and dominant. Being young, I found that difficult to handle. And, there were work-related reasons (we found jobs in different places).
—Custer