This is a series that will consist of cuckold stories where wives have sex and relations outside of marriage and husbands love that. There are Alpha boyfriends who will show the husbands their place and dominating wives to show cucks their place.
Story 5
Wife's boyfriend's birthday
I love my wife. That’s why, when she told me she’d be spending the whole weekend with her boyfriend for his birthday, I didn’t even hesitate to nod in agreement. After all, making her happy is what matters most.
She sat on the floor, carefully wrapping a gift for him, humming to herself. She looked so radiant, so excited—but not for me. That glow, that anticipation in her eyes, was all for him.
“It’s a gift for my boyfriend, hun,” she said casually, tying a neat bow on the box. “His birthday is on Friday, so of course, I’ll be spending the whole weekend with him. That means you’ll have to take care of the kids by yourself.”
I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Hey, sweetheart, I was thinking… there’s a big football game this weekend. The guys invited me to watch it with them. I haven’t gone out in months, so I was wondering if—”
She didn’t even let me finish.
“Oh, hun, you know I’d love for you to have fun, but this weekend is really important,” she interrupted, her tone sweet but firm. “It’s my boyfriend’s birthday. I need to be there for him. And we I had already made it clear to you that you will priortize his and my quality time over anything personal of yours. I know you have not had a relaxing weekend for months but that is not my problem. You know you have to put him and me first over your requirements.”
I swallowed my disappointment. “Right… of course.”
She smiled, oblivious—or maybe just indifferent—to my hesitation. “You understand, don’t you? His birthday is a big deal. You’ll have the kids to take care of, anyway.”
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I get it. His birthday is more important.”
She finally looked up, flashing me a warm smile. “That’s why I love you! You’re so good to me. It’s really cute how supportive you are of my relationship with him.” She giggled. “Not many husbands would be this understanding.”
I nodded, saying nothing. What could I say? This had become my life.
And then, right on cue, the doorbell rang.
Her boyfriend stepped inside with a confident swagger, towering over me. He barely acknowledged my presence as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply—right in front of me.
"Hey, babe,” he murmured, squeezing her waist. “Damn, you look amazing. I can’t wait for this weekend.”
She giggled, clinging to him. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
Finally, he turned his attention to me, smirking like he always did when he saw me.
“Yo, what’s up, man?” he said casually, giving me a solid slap on the back—like I was an old friend doing him a favor. “You got everything handled here? Kids fed, house cleaned? I need my girl stress-free this weekend.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah… of course. Everything’s taken care of.”
“Attaboy.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I gotta say, I love this setup. I get the best of both worlds. I get to have fun with her, and you make sure everything else runs smoothly.”
My face burned, but I forced a chuckle, hoping to move past it.
Then, as if he just remembered something, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me.
“Almost forgot. My girl made a list of things she wants done before she gets back. But hey, I threw in a few things too.”
I unfolded it, my stomach twisting as I read:
Laundry (ALL of it, not just yours)
Deep clean the kitchen and bathroom
Buy fresh groceries (healthy options, don’t be lazy)
Pick up my suit from the dry cleaners
Make sure the kids are in bed by 9 PM
Wash my car (inside AND outside, full detail)
Get those shoes I left last time, they better not be moved
I looked up. He was grinning.
“Yeah, man,” he continued, “the car thing is big. It was looking kinda rough last time. I want it spotless, cool?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
He winked. “Knew I could count on you.”
She turned to me, barely containing her excitement. “Bye, hun! Be good while I’m gone!”
And with that, they were gone, leaving me standing there, staring at the empty doorway.
Once, I had my own place in this house—a spot beside my wife in our bed, in our bedroom. But that changed a long time ago.
It started as a temporary arrangement. During her fertile days, when her boyfriend came over, I was expected to give them space.
"You understand, right?" she had said sweetly. "We need privacy during this time. It’s… important."
I understood.
So, I started staying in the basement on those nights. A small cot, a blanket, and my phone. It was just for a few nights at first.
But soon, the nights became more frequent. Then, it became every weekend.
Then, it became permanent.
Now, the basement was my room. My clothes were down here. My stuff. My entire life had been moved beneath theirs.
Above me, I could hear the faint sounds of laughter, of music, of them together.
I pulled my blanket tighter around myself.
.
I sighed, walking back inside, glancing at the framed family photos on the wall. A perfect little family—except the kids weren’t even mine.
I still remember the day she told me.
We were sitting on the couch, her boyfriend’s arm draped lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing at something he said when, out of nowhere, she turned to me.
“You know,” she mused, “if I’m going to have children, they should be with someone who excites me.”
I blinked. “What?”
She smiled, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I mean, I love you. But… for a family, I need someone with strong genes. And, well…” She playfully ran her fingers down her boyfriend’s chest.
He grinned. “Yeah, man. No hard feelings, right? You’re more of a caretaker type. I’m the… creator type.”
They both laughed. I forced a chuckle, even though my stomach was twisting itself in knots.
Months later, when she announced her pregnancy, she was glowing with happiness—clinging to her boyfriend’s arm while I stood there, trying to process it all.
“You’re going to be such a great father for his baby. He realky appreciates it to. I mean he is off the hook and stress free , but gets to feel the pride and satisfaction of passing on his genes and watching his offspring grow up. You, meanwhile , will handle all the stress and responsibility of fatherhood, spending all your time and money raising his baby. And of course he gets to visit whenever he wqnts ” she had said, patting my arm. “I know you’ll do whatever it takes to give them the best life.”
Her boyfriend had smirked. “Yeah, man. It’s kinda wild, huh? I get to do the fun part, and you get to do all the work. But I believe you are destined for that. You could never satisfy her and so she had to turn to me. But I am a lousy caretaker. So now , the kids will have all good genes and a good nanny. And don't worry. I know taking care of kids is very stressful so I will help you relieve your stress. From now on your wife will not be doing anything with you. Not share her happy moments, not care for tlyou and obviously not have sex. We are onky doing this so that youbare stress free, got it boy.”
They had both laughed.
And now, years later, here I was—changing diapers, making school lunches, attending parent-teacher meetings—while he spent his time enjoying their mother.
After they left, I immediately got to work.
First, I went outside and washed his car, making sure to scrub every inch. Then, I went inside, started his laundry, and neatly folded his clothes when they were dry.
I set his clean shirts aside, feeling humiliated at how normal this had become
I sighed and grabbed my phone, sending a message to my friends.
Me: “No football game for me this weekend. Got kid duty while my wife celebrates her boyfriend's birthday.”
Within seconds, the replies poured in.
Ryan: “Damn, bro. Again?”
Jake: “Man, you should start charging babysitting fees.”
Tom: “Lemme guess—he gets your wife, you get laundry duty?”
Jake: “Nah, he gets to sniff her pillow when she gets back.”
Me: “Very funny.”
Ryan: “Hey, at least she tells you in advance. Some dudes don’t even get that courtesy.”
Tom: “She probably left you a to-do list, didn’t she?”
Jake: “LMAO. She really got you trained, man. Youbare as good as a maid for them”
Ryan: “What did she get him for his birthday? Bet it’s way better than what she got you.”
I hesitated before replying.
Me: “Yeah, she put a lot of effort into it. Way more than my last birthday. She got him a Rolex.”
Jake: “LOL. Damn. What did she get you last year?”
I sighed. A $20 gift card and a ‘thanks for being a great husband’ text.
Before I could respond, another message popped up.
Tom: “Bro… you good?”
Me: “Yeah. Just gotta heat up some mac and cheese for the kids.”
The kids were asleep, and I sat alone in the living room, half-watching TV, half-scrolling through social media.
Then, a notification popped up.
A tagged photo.
It was them.
There she was, sitting on his lap at the party, a drink in her hand, smiling, leaning into him. My friends were in the background, laughing, raising their glasses in a toast.
My phone buzzed again.
Ryan: “Damn, bro. You seeing this?”
Tom: “She really went all out for him. That’s… wow.”
Then, the worst message came in.
Jake: “Bro, I was talking to him earlier. He said he might propose soon. You think she’ll say yes?”
My stomach dropped.
Ryan: “LMAO. Imagine that. He makes you the best man at your own wife’s wedding.”
My hands tightened around the phone. I turned it off. I already knew how the rest of their weekend would go. I didn’t need to see it.
And in a few days, she’d come back home, smiling, maybe even humming to herself.
And I’d smile back, act like everything was fine.
Because that’s what a good husband does.
