Letter to a Cuck-hubby #164: I Cast a Spell . . .



I cast a spell on your wife, cuck-boi, and she fell for it. We’ve been going at it for weeks now with you been clueless the whole time. All those hours she told you she was staying at work minding paperwork, all those times she told you she was heading off to the gym . . . she was over at my place.


Your wife sure loves to fuck. I’m telling you this because I know it’s been months since she gave you any – don’t worry, she’s told me everything – and you’ve been jacking off to porn night after night. She knows about your hidden stash, even has the password to your hidden computer folders, cuck-boi. Yeah, you thought you was being smart the whole time.


This might come as a shock but don’t go taking it personal. And don’t go taking it out on your woman either, ‘cos that ain’t gonna help. The thing is, your woman knows everything you’ve been wanting to tell her but are too chicken-shit to admit: you want to see her getting fucked by a Black stud. You didn’t know this while she’d been doing just that. She’d been wanting to come clean and confess to you, of course, but didn’t know how. I told her to let me do it, but even that scared her. She’s no idea I’m writing this letter to you. She ain’t gonna take it too kindly with me, but that’s the risk we’re gonna have to take, you and I.


Yes, I’m involving you in this, cuck-boi. This is what you’ve always wanted: knowing your wife is fucking someone and find a ways to be there to watch. I can’t guarantee that part right now, ‘cos you’re gonna want to talk things over with your woman.


But don’t go all hard on her. It wasn’t like she went out of her way looking for me. I did meet her at the gym, but we often spot each other and that was it. Wasn’t until one evening I went over at a Frozen Foods mart on Vine Street that I ran into her. Surprise, surprise. It was raining, so we made time to wait. We went into a coffee shop to wait it out and then got to talking. She opened up about her feelings: told me about your secrets and how it’s been a while since you both had sex. Matter of fact, she told me it was all your damn fault. You’ve been having too much sex with your fucking hands you don’t know how to use your dick no more.


Long story short, I told her I lived close by and if she’d like us to continue our talk there. I told her I’ve got a bottle of white wine I’ve been dying to open. She accepted and came with me. The rest, as they say, is history.


Do I enjoy fucking your wife? Hell the fuck yeah, I do!


Do I wanna break up your marriage? Nah. That ain’t what I’m about.


That’s why I’m taking this pain to sending you this letter. Don’t want you catching no hard feelings about it. Just figured it’s about time you knew. I know it ain’t something you’d want to take lightly. Hell, if I ever found out some John was out there poking my woman behind my back, I’d sure as shit lose my cool. But who knows, maybe I might not even sweat it that much. As long as she ain’t leaving me for the other guy, and she got to griping that she’s doing it ‘cos I ain’t been fucking her in a while, then I guess I’d man the fuck up and swallow the bullet.



If you still are interested in wanting your woman to keep on with this, then you ought not be sweating either. I don’t know how she is with you, but when she’s with me in my bed, she’s a fucking wild animal. You ought to be here to see her. Like I told you already, the bitch loves to fuck. We ain’t even just doing it in the bed; we’ve done it everywhere in my pad. Even gone outside and done it a couple of times. Two days ago, we drove down to some spot near the beach and did it in my car. You know she’s got herself a big fat ass, right? She loves sitting on up on my dick and going crazy. She loves to swallow my cum, too. Though she ain’t let me cum inside her ‘cos she’s worried you might find out something. But it’s only a matter of time, cuck-boi. It’s only a matter of fucking time.


Tell me you won’t love to be there to watch me do that to her?