I couldn’t stand the Armstrong family. Hated them.

Their family had a lot of political pull over our city, with one brother being the mayor, the other having another high council seat. Working together, these former jocks-turned-politicians bullied their way into getting what they wanted, influencing taxpayers and Government officials alike.

College Cuckold Stories: How a Frat Boy Hijacked My Marriage

I hated that the city turned a blind eye to all that went on under their nose. The married mayor was having sex with married and single women in his own office. The drug use was evident at every public function he attended. Neither Armstrong brother had any problem using their political clout take what they felt like, whether it was a table at a reservation-only restaurant or box seats at sports arenas.

I rolled my eyes when I found out their still-in-college nephew, Jordan, was about to get into the political arena, starting as a trustee. In the meantime, the kid was partying it up at a frat house they had just moved into, which happened to be across the street from where my new bride, Barb, and I, lived.

We were a young couple, only a few years older than Jordan. Our neighbors were also young couples, which was a big factor in our decision to move here. While people were apprehensive at first about the commotion a frat-house on our street would bring, no one did anything about it. Sure, husbands and wives, boyfriends, and girlfriends, would intend to approach the kids about their noise levels, but there was something about that frat house…any resident who walked in with one intention always left intimidated.

I didn’t want to be one of those cuck husbands or beta-male boyfriends who balked at the machismo of some alpha male college kid. I told Barb I was going to ask the frat-boys to be more respectful of the neighbors, but she told me not to, saying boys will be boys.

Her passive attitude surprised me because originally, both Barb and I were resentful of the noise the boys made. It wasn’t long before I was the only one who wanted to do something about their rowdiness. I had caught Barb on a few occasions watching these students barbecue on the front porch, toss the football around on the street, or sun tan on the front lawn. Each time I saw her looking out the window, Jordan was in her line of vision.

Though we hadn’t met yet, Jordan and I saw each other plenty of times. I would walk out to get my paper, and he would be sipping a coffee on his front lawn. I would walk home and see him talking to someone on his front porch. We drove by each other in cars after pulling out of our driveways. I awkwardly nodded my head to him each time, but he never reciprocated.

One day, likely sick of my whining about Jordan and his frat-boys, Barb told me to grow a pair and confront them about the noise if it bothered me so much. I did just that, marching across the street, fists clenched, intending to show my wife how a man handles the immaturity of boys.

Cuckolded by a Spoiled College Student and My Wife

When I pounded on the front door, Jordan answered, his frat buddies playing beer pong behind him. Jordan looked at my hands, then my face, asking me where the food was. I told him I wasn’t a pizza delivery boy, I was his neighbor, and upon recognizing me, a cocky smirk grew on his face, which turned into a smile. Jordan leaned against the door and crossed his arms.

“Yeah?” he asked me, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, Hi, Jordan, is it? I’m your neighbor.” I said to him, reaching out my hand to shake his. He eyeballed my hand, stoic, his eyebrow raised, giving me a look that said, ‘are you serious?’. I pulled back my hand awkwardly, feeling inferior in front of this college kid, ashamed that I felt worthy to even touch his skin. I never felt more intimidated in my life, and I started to babble, nervously.

“Err..ummm…so….” I stammered, “I was wondering, man, would you mind turning down the volume, please? You guys are kind of loud…heh heh…”

“Really? I don’t think we are” he replied, shrugging his shoulders, looking at his buddies. “Hey guys, this shithead thinks we’re making too much noise!”

“Fuck him!” one of his buddies shouted back, to a round of laughter. Jordan laughed too and looked back at me.

“Sorry, buddy. Go buy some earphones or something.” He said while turning his back to me and shutting the door. I stuck my foot out to block it from closing. Jordan saw this, and I immediately regretted my bravery.

“Well, the thing is…” I continued to talk, in a pleading tone. “You’re inconveniencing our neighbors, I wouldn’t mind, but our neighbors don’t like the noise.”

“Hmmm…” he said, leaning back and looking over his shoulder again. “I don’t think they really mind that much…” I realized what he was looking at – several of our neighbors – friends of ours – were chilling with the frat boys. I opened my mouth to speak, but Jordan shut the door before I spoke. I stood in the same spot for a good 30 seconds before turning to walk away. Suddenly the door opened again, and Jordan shouted at me.

“Hey dude,” he said as I turned around to face him. “Send that woman of yours over here, I wanna meet her.” He shut the door again before I could answer.

I walked back home, intending to lie to my wife about how manly I was, talking down to those punks. Barb cut me off, telling me not to embarrass myself. She was watching my confrontation with Jordan from our front window.

“Let’s go over there.” she said.

“What?!” I replied, not sure why she would say such a thing.

“I heard Jordan say he wanted to meet me. Fuck it, let’s olive-branch it. We all have to live together, we might as well make things harmonic between us. They are our neighbors, after all. Maybe it’ll be fun, and I could use a drink.” She wasn’t asking or suggesting, even though she was phrasing her sentences like she was. She wanted to go over there.

“Alright, one drink,” I said, under protest.

We walked over, rang the doorbell and Jordan answered the door again, this time not even looking at me, his eyes locked onto my wife. He flashed his million-dollar Armstrong smile and immediately made my new bride blush. Jordan and I made eye contact when she did. He smirked and winked at me before ignoring me again.

“You must be Barb. I’m Jordan,” he said, reaching out his hand. He must have asked one of our neighbors about her.

“Nice to meet you, Jordan.” My wife responded. “I’ve seen you across the street, I thought we should introduce ourselves.”

“I’m glad you did.” He said, stepping back so we could come in. He led her in while I walked behind them, shutting the door behind me. I looked around and saw the frat boys mingling with several of our neighbors. “You want a beer?” Jordan said to my girl.

“I would love one.” My wife said, smiling back at him.

“Hey shithead,” Jordan said to me, over his shoulder. “Go get 2 beers, they’re in the kitchen.” His order made my wife squeeze her legs together, for some reason. I did as I was told, but while walking away, I heard Jordan ask Barb, “what are you doing with a wimp like that?”

After saying hello to a few of my neighbors, I grabbed two beer bottles from the fridge, walked back to Jordan and my wife, handing her a beer, and twisting the cap off the other one. Jordan snatched it out of my hand.

“Thanks, buddy.” He said, winking at me, before turning back to my wife. I didn’t know how to handle his blatant disrespect.

“Sure, no problem, Jordan,” I said, nervously putting my hands in my pockets, and looking around.

“Don’t call me Jordan.”

“Um…what do I call you then?” I said, looking at Barb with a ‘check out this guy’ look my face. She looked on, listening to us with a riveted look on her face.

“Mr. Armstrong. ‘Sir’ works too.” He said, flashing that smile at my girl and, again, making her blush. When he put his arm around Barb, I suddenly felt like I should leave their presence. I might as well have because while I uncomfortably stood in front of them, it was like I wasn’t even there. Jordan hit it off her immediately, they had an instant connection. She was always attentive to my needs, my emotions, my feelings, and yet, at that moment with Jordan beside her, I wasn’t even on her radar.

“Um, I’m gonna go talk to the guys,” I said in their direction. Neither Jordan nor Barb heard or saw me walk away.

“You Shouldn’t Have Left Your Wife Alone with the Frat Boy.”

After mingling as much as I wanted to before getting bored, I was about to make my way towards my wife, so we could go home. My eye caught a frat boy named Milton, who was the only one not talking to anyone. Instead, he was picking up garbage, grabbing empty beer bottles, and wiping tables. I knew his name because his college buddies called for him whenever they wanted another beer. Milton was fast, and I was impressed with his obedience. We bumped into each other, and after introducing ourselves, he said something that stayed with me.

“You’re awfully confident to leave your girl with Jordan,” Milton said to me.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“When Jordan sets his sights on a chick, he’s pretty much already nailed her. Everyone knows that.” Milton said to me, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, ‘Jordan’ has no chance with my bride, we’re happily married newlyweds, the key word being married”. I said, dumbfounded at his statement.

“Yeah, good luck with that. I was with my high school sweetheart for 3 long years before Jordan ended up fucking her. On prom night, no less.”

“Seriously? He did that to you? Why would you hang out with such a person?”

“Bros before hoes, dude. Besides, he’s Jordan-fucking-Armstrong. What girl in their right mind is going to say no to that kid. He gets away with everything, he’s got all that power, the rules don’t apply to him, he’s got them boyish looks…”

“Well, that sounds like you have a self-esteem issue, my friend, and you’re giving him way too much credit. Sounds like your girl wanted to get laid, and my wife’s not gonna cheat on me with some blonde-haired, blue-eyed rich kid.”

“Are you sure?” he said. “Where are they now?” he laughed before his name was called – someone needed another beer, apparently, so our conversation was abruptly ended.

He had a point, I lost my wife somewhere in the crowd. I sat alone for a while before texting her, telling her I was going home, insisting she stay and have a good time since we lived across the street.

After watching TV for a few hours, I heard giggling and talking at the door. I got up, opened it, and saw Jordan and Barb, facing each other, her hands on his chest, his hands on her waist. They didn’t seem to have any problems with body contact. They were a little too close for my comfort. I stepped behind my wife and put my arms around her waist, hugging her in front of Jordan, my false bravado and insecurity transparent. I was trying to show him that Barb was my girl, but she wasn’t being as sensual as I was. In fact, she started laughing with him when they saw my poor attempt at claiming ‘my girl’.

There’s no feeling like being laughed at by your own wife and another guy. The look they give you while laughing is one thing. The look they give each other, knowing you’re the brunt of the joke, is another.

“I’ll see ya later, babe,” Jordan said to her with a smile, his hand caressing her cheek, his big thick thumb wiping her bottom lip.

“See ya, Jordan.” She said back at him, almost sad to see him go, sucking her own bottom lip after he removed his thumb like, she was savoring its taste.

“Oh hey, shithead,” Jordan shouted at me. “I heard you got to know Milton. Do us a favor and help him clean up tomorrow morning, eh?” This was clearly an instruction and not a request. I was the one to get his winning smile this time, although it felt more like he was laughing at me. He followed up with a wink, a condescending thumbs-up, and bounced back to the frat house.

After watching Jordan walk back into his frat house, Barb walked past me, oblivious to my presence, into our own home. She was love-struck and smitten like a schoolgirl on cloud nine.

“Well, babe, I think he likes you,” I said, clearly in jest.

“Really??? You think so???” She responded, springing up, wide-eyed and eager for more intel.

“Settle down there, honey” I laughed. “Hey, where did you guys go? I was waiting for you before I split, I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Oh, Jordan was showing me around the house. We were getting to know each other. He’s actually a great guy, a big asset to the neighborhood.”

“How so?”

“Gotta be at least nine inches.” She said to herself, smiling.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry left you alone out there, honey. When we got to Jordan’s room, he told me you were in good hands with that guy Milton.”

“That Milton guy is quite a character. You should hear his story one day. Wait, you were in his room?”

“That’s what I said, honey.”

“What were you guys doing in there?”

“Look at you, all jealous.”

“Pfft. I’m not jealous of some college kid. I know you’re utterly devotional to me, sweetie. I mean, it would take something pretty big to take you away from all this.” I thumbed at myself, acting like an ass for a laugh.

“You’re right. It would take something huge.”

“By the way, why did Jordan say I was in good hands with that Milton dude?”

“He said Milton was preparing you for your future. He said Milton was leaving the frat house next week and kept calling you the ‘new Milton’. I have no idea what that means.”

I Caught My Girl Masturbating While Thinking of the Frat-Boy Bully

Barb went to bed early that night, while I stayed up to get some work done. Later, while washing up, I heard a slight moan coming from Barb, in our bedroom. The lights were off, and the door was ajar. I peeked in and saw her masturbating with her favorite sex toy, a big rubber dildo, rubbing her legs together and touching her huge tits. She kept whispering the words “so big…so big…” with her eyes closed. I was about to join in on the fun, but suddenly she came. Very, very hard.

“Jor…Jor……Jor….JOOOORRRRDAAAANNNNNNN…. ..YEAAHHHhhhhhh……” Was all she said before passing out with a smile on her face.

I stood there, frozen – did my wife just masturbate thinking about the spoiled frat boy across the street? I went through all sorts of actions – anger, jealousy, shock…all betrayed by the raging hard on in my pants.

I sat at my desk trying to work, but all I could think about was what I saw and heard my wife do. I decided to get it out of me and rub one out. I don’t know why, but I was doing searching porn sites for a guy with dirty blond hair, somewhat arrogant…all the things that described Jordan. I watched a particular scene, with a guy who had his build, and a girl who looked like Barb. I was rock hard watching this spoiled college student destroy the chick’s tight little pussy with the fattest beer-can cock I had ever seen. The girl said something that ended my masturbation session with a bang.

“You are so much bigger than my husband.”

I shot three shots of cum straight at the monitor, another four sprouted into my keyboard, and the rest oozed down my hand, seeping down to the base of my cock and down my balls. I was soaked in my own cum.

And then I heard laughter.

I looked to my right and yelped. I forgot to close the blinds. Jordan and his friend were out walking a dog and had seen me bust a nut all over myself. The scene on the monitor was evident from where they were standing. Jordan knew what I was jerking off to. A quick picture was taken of me from each of their cell phones later, they left, while I cleaned the cum off my laptop and leather office chair. Fuck – I got caught jerking off to porn by a bunch of fratboys.

I went right to bed embarrassed, looking at my wife sleeping, the big fat rubber cock still in her hand. I feel asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but was awoken to the sound of sex a few hours later. Panicked, I tip-toed into the office, where I saw my wife in my office chair. It was then that I realized I forgot to turn off my laptop before I went to bed. With a glass of water in her hand, I figured she walked past my desk, and her movement activated the mouse, which exposed the last thing on my screen. I remained out of sight while she watched the scene for a moment before giggling to herself and turning my computer off.

The College Frat Boy Humiliated Me in Front of My Wife

I awoke the next morning, eager to put the previous night behind me. With Barb in the shower, I went out to grab the newspaper. Reaching down to pick it up, a big size thirteen shoe stepped on the paper. I Looked up and there was Jordan, who looked pissed. He grabbed me by my t-shirt with one hand, smacked me in the face with his other beefy hand, then shoved me against my house’s wall.

“You stupid fucker, what did I say yesterday?” he said, anger on his face. I was scared.

“Let go of me! Wh…what are you talking about?” He was almost lifting me off the ground. Jordan slapped me with one hand while still holding me up with the other. Those big hands of his hurt.

“I told you to clean up with Milton this morning. That means bright and early, dumbass. Milton lets you in, he tells you what to do and you fuckin’ do it.”

“Are you kidding me?! Get the fuck off me!” I shouted.

Jordan put his hand on the back of my head and shoved me to the ground. I tried to get up, but he pie-faced me onto the grass before stepping on my chest. My first instinct was to fight back, but he was way stronger than me. Then I wanted to call for help but I didn’t want anyone to see how wimpy I was compared to this frat boy, especially my wife. In a panic, I begged Jordan for mercy and told him I would do anything he asked if he got off me immediately. Mikey did as I asked, but not without giving me a firm slap across the face for “wasting his time.”

“Get in the house and get to training.” Jordan said with his face in inch away from mine. He yanked my hair back from behind to stress his dominance of me.

“Say you understand so I can get away from you.” Jordan said to me. “I don’t really want to be seen talking a guy like you in public. I couldn’t believe the nerve of this kid, but thought better of challenging him. He really was impressive in owning the moment.

I decided to do as I was told, and walked over to the frat house about a half hour later. My wife was no where around, but I got the idea she was keeping her distance from me. Either she was listening in on the dialogue between Jordan and I, or he told her via text or call. Milton answered the door when I arrived.

“You shouldn’t have disobeyed him,” Milton said to me, letting me in. “Bad first impression, bro.”

“I don’t need to impress…fuck, Milton, I’m just here to help you clean up the place.”

“Yeah…listen, pay attention, ‘cause I’m leaving soon. They’re frat boys, they’re not gonna put up with incompetence.”

“Milton, I don’t know what you think is going to happen, but I’m not you, and I’m not afraid of Jordan Fucking Armstrong, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm. Then why are you here?”

“Just…I just…”

“Yeah, listen, I’ve heard it all before. I used to be you, dude. I get it. Don’t worry, no judgments.”

“I’m just here to help.”

“Okay, whatever. Let’s get started.”

I followed his lead, and together, we turned the house from a just-partied-in look to a brand-spanking-new atmosphere. I was rather impressed with myself. I had never really put so much work into house chores before, but for some reason, I wanted the place to look pristine. I wanted to make a good first impression…for the frat boys? For Jordan? For Milton? I’m not sure…I just had a sudden urge to please. Believe it or not, I wanted to be on good terms with Jordan, especially if he and my wife were going to be friends.

“Good job, buddy,” Milton said, patting my shoulders.

“Thanks, man.” I said an ‘aw shucks’ look on my face.

“So… listen, here are the keys to the place. My room is under Jordan’s, in the basement, but I’m not sure they’re gonna let you stay here.”

“Keep your keys, Milton, I’m a married man who owns his own home.”

“That’s…not really in your hands anymore, man.”

“This is silly.”

“Take the keys. Just…help out until they find someone who can replace you.”

“You mean replace you.”

“Whatever. Here’s my number. You can ask me anything if you need to. Try not to fuck up too much, though. Remember, they don’t have the time or patience to train anyone. You should know what to do before they know what they want.”

“Milton,” I said to him as he motioned to walked away. “Were you always so…subordinate?” He chuckled to himself, then looked at me like he was looking in a mirror.

“I used to be one of them.” Nodding to a picture of the frat boys on the wall. He wasn’t kidding – it was a football team picture, and he was the starting quarterback.

“Wow, is that you?! What…happened to you?”

“Simple. Jordan fucked my girl.”

“And that’s it?! You’re suddenly someone’s bitch?”

“Don’t throw stones, dude,” Milton said, walking away. “Nothing I can say can stop the inevitable.”

“Wait…what do you mean by that?”

Milton just chuckled to himself. “Good luck, dude.” He said, walking away.

Jordan’s roommates showed me stuff around the house that Milton didn’t, told me how they like food prepared, how to wash sports equipment, how to clean the pool and how to launder their clothes. I listened intently. They really didn’t care who I was. They didn’t even ask my name. I’m not sure some of them knew I had been their neighbor all this time. As far as these frat boys were concerned, I was just ‘the new Milton’. I hadn’t realized that I was nodding like a yes-man each time frat boy gave me instructions.

I came home exhausted that day. Thankfully, so did Barb, and we both sort of conked out together in bed, promising to catch up in the morning. I felt like we were leading two very different lives than we were 48 hours ago. I didn’t feel bad about that, though. I found myself excited to go back to the frat house, even hoping Jordan would be home the next time I came over. I was so enamored with my new role that I hadn’t asked what my wife was doing while I was learning the ropes across the street.

College Kid Next Slapped Me Around on My Front Lawn as I Begged For Mercy

The next day was business as usual. Barb and I went to work, we met for lunch, we cooked dinner together, we went over our accounts and bills, we watched a movie, and even tasted some new wine. We were back to being the married couple we were as newlyweds. She didn’t ask me about what I did at the frat house, and I didn’t ask her what she did with Jordan. With that unspoken agreement, we had never been more connected. She seemed as rejuvenated as I was. It was like both of us found some sort of answer to a question we didn’t even know we had.

I decided to be spontaneous and surprise the frat boys on my day off. Coming over prepared with cleaning products, I was let in by one of the college students and began cleansing their place, one room at a time.

While scrubbing the toilet across from Jordan’s room, I heard his voice talking to some girl. I got excited, intending to thank him for being such a good friend to my wife, wanting to brag about how great our marriage had been since, oddly enough, meeting him. I felt like the next time he would see me, he would be appreciative of all that had been doing for him and the boys at the frat house.

The girl I could hear Jordan talking to seemed giddy and excited. I heard lips smacking before he walked out of his bedroom and into the bathroom I was cleaning.

“That’s right, wimp, you look right at home.” He said to me, laughing.

“Jordan, I don’t think–”

“Just shut up and clean, sissy cuckold. If the toilet ain’t shining, I’ll drag your ass right back in here.”

“Or I could just leave right now.”

“You could try. And I could slap you again for getting brave, but I won’t have to.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m going to let you listen to me fuck my girl.”

“What? Why would I want to listen to you fuck?”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to hear me destroy this bitch with my big dick…?”

“…”

“Well?”

I realized this was Jordan’s way of being ‘nice’ to me. “That would be cool, I’d love to listen, man. That earned me another slap.

“Try again, dumbass.”

“Thank-you for letting me listen to you have sex.”

“Better. I’ll keep the door open so you can hear her scream my name while you scrub my toilet.”

“Thank-you, Sir. I can’t be long though, my wife will be home soon.”

“No, she won’t.”

“Oh?” I asked, thinking Barb had been in contact with him while I was cleaning.

“Heh. How long do you think it will take before she starts screaming my name?”

“What makes you think she’ll be screaming at all?”

“Because she’s not used to big dick.”

“She told you that?”

“She didn’t need to. I caught her husband jerking off.”

“…”

Jordan could see that I was connecting the dots. “Get to work, sissy cuckold.” He said to me with a smirk, unbuckling his belt before walking back to his room.

I shook my head and ignored the thoughts flooding into my head, fighting the hard on that so badly wanted to burst out of my pants. Jordan’s words were suggestive and implying. I ignored them, throwing myself into my labor – I scrubbed. I wiped. I soaked. I purged the bathroom while listening to him ravish his ‘new girl’. I heard her beg for his big dick, scream about how she wanted to be his girl, and how she would do anything for him. I had never heard a girl throw herself shamelessly at a guy before. Listening to her ride his big dick was like a symphony playing while I scrubbed Jordan’s bathroom.

When I got home, I then microwaved my own dinner and watched a movie. Alone. No messages or calls from my wife came in while I cleaned or while I waited for her at home. But I wasn’t worried.

I knew exactly where she was.

END