Wow

So, I got quite a response from the people who wanted to hear more cheating stories, and though I never set out to make this a cuckold blog (as I've said, I was certainly never a voluntary participant in my ex-wife's cheating), I'd be lying if I said that it didn't contribute to my sissydom or at least that my sissy nature made it easier for me to take her cheating.
She would be gone overnight every 4th or 5th Saturday night and I'd just use the free time in pretty panties, surfing for porn, chatting with other sissies, bouncing on my dildo and pretending that my wife wasn't out getting fucked by ex-boyfriends, guys she took back from clubs or just her bisexual female best friends.
It hand been months since her last admitted affair. A "moment of weakness" she called it. And I pretended that I believed her.
But then she lost her mom.
It was unexpected and she took it hard. It was trouble for her to get out of bed in the morning. And strangely, for a while, our marriage was never better. I was her support. I was able to be there for her and I never felt more like a real husband. For a few short months I stepped into that role I was afraid I could never be for her. Strong, protecting ...truly a husband. It was then that she admitted to a handful of one night stands and one true affair.
She sobbed (once again) and promised (once again) that things would change. That she now understood what marriage was supposed to be and what mattered most in her life.

We talked about sex and her sex drive; her need for excitement and she even began to tell me about past lovers and sexual experiences. She said and I reluctantly agreed that openness would improve both our sex life and our trust. We made love that night and I was hard almost the entire time.
The next night we went out to what I knew was her favorite bar. We ran into friends who were surprised to see me actually out. And she introduced me to new friends I'd never met, girls she knew who were regulars there. One of them was Rachelle. A friend of my wife she hadn't seen in several months. I'll never forget her, white hair and a sexy raspy voice. I found myself lost staring at her when I was introduced, but then her next few words brought me crashing down. She said hi to my wife then asked her, referring to me "OHHH, is this your boyfriend?"
Silence.
I smiled at her nervously, and she added quickly that she'd heard a lot about me. Of couse, she didn't mean ME.
My wife said quickly no, and introduced me by name, but never once corrected her that I was, in fact her husband.
The rest of the night at the bar was a blur. i knew we both tried to drink the awkwardness away. We spoke little and came home.
As we opened the door I unloaded. Asking "who is he? Why didn't you tell that bitch who i was."
She replied, "you weren't my boyfriend. I didn't lie. What's past is in the past."
And then I opened Pandora's box.
Drunk and in bed with her, I demanded that she tell me about him. Everything. I wanted answers, I wanted no more lies or secrets and I think I thought it could turn us both on maybe. Maybe it could spark something between us the way her talk about her early sexual experiences had aroused us the night before.
I was wrong. She told me it was a bad idea, but i pressed and so she told me. Everything. About his cock, about the threesome with her friend Mindy, about telling him she loved him. The nude pictures she took for him and the pregnancy scare. It overwhelmed me. I felt dizzy. I wanted to run out. Instead, I noticed that she had gotten herself worked up. And as I got up to sleep it off on the couch, she had a different plan.
"Fuck me" she said. She leaned back onto the bed, spread her legs, already wet all over her upper thighs. "Please, I need it ..."
I tried. That is all i can say. My fear, regret, frustration and misery made for poor aphrodisiac and though I was hard enough to enter her, I could not stay that way. Undaunted, she grinded against me until she came.
"so fucking good" were the last words I heard her say before we passed out in bed, me thinking those words were for me.
Two hours later, I heard the clicking of heels on the hardwood floor of the bedroom. As I tried to shake off the sleep, i saw my petite wife in a short dress and heels, grabbing her purse. She saw me waking and was fazed for a second. But she leaned down, kissed my forehead and said, "I'm sorry baby, but I have to go."
I thought of a hundred things to say to stop her. I said none. And she went.
This time I didn't see her again until Monday afternoon. Apologetic as always.
A year and two more affairs later she served me with divorce papers.