From the moment I met my girlfriend, I felt deeply attracted to her physically. Back when we weren’t together, I used to look at her Instagram photos all the time. Once we started dating (and still to this day), I’ve always loved taking pictures of her. At first, the photos were completely innocent—just so she could have better posts for her Instagram. But I would spend hours thinking about where and how to take the pictures, and also a lot of time editing them the best I could.
Naturally, as she posted more and better photos, it became obvious that she was attracting more attention from other men. And little by little I realized that not only did this not bother me—it actually turned me on. I liked knowing that men were interested in her. I felt proud to be her boyfriend, the one who could actually enjoy her, without realizing how far this feeling would evolve.
We had actually met years before, at a mutual friend’s party, and later added each other on social media. I always knew she was a slut, every now and then I’d see her at a club, usually drunk, uninhibited, surrounded by guys. I often saw her kissing someone from her group and enjoying the attention. Remembering that, I would get excited imagining what she used to do when she went out, who she went home with, and whether more happened after the night ended. Later, I also started asking her about her past relationships and her sexual history. At first, she wasn’t comfortable sharing those details, but I kept showing her that I wasn’t jealous and wouldn’t get angry about things that happened before we were together. I didn’t tell her then that I actually got turned on by her stories, but they helped me confirm how much I liked knowing everything she had done with other men before me.
Eventually, her past stories ran out, and my fantasies had already evolved. It wasn’t just her past anymore—I started imagining it happening while we were together. I accepted that what I really wanted was to picture my girlfriend with other men. I fantasized about all kinds of scenarios: her going on a date with a good-looking guy, kissing him, hanging off his shoulders, having sex. Sometimes it was one guy, sometimes two at the same time, or even a gangbang with multiple men covering her with cum at the end. I wanted my girlfriend to be ta slut. To be used by many men, to cheat on me and get fucked raw by as many cocks as she wanted.
I imagined all of it in great detail—men with bigger cocks than mine, more muscular and dominant, making her enjoy herself in ways I never could. These fantasies grew stronger the more time I spent on Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter, Instagram—reading captions, stories, looking at hotwife, stag, and cuckold content. I consumed everything I could: porn, blogs, experiences from couples, even advice about risks and benefits. Some people shared their experiences with me, honestly and without judgment, and that was one of the reasons I decided to start this blog. Because we’re a real couple, I’m a real man going through this, and I want to share our process with others who might be curious about the same path.
In the first years of our relationship, I was as jealous as any average boyfriend. So when I finally confessed my fantasy, it made sense to her why I had always asked so much about her past but never showed jealousy. Still, it wasn’t easy for her at first. Like most women, she had doubts, insecurities, and couldn’t understand how a man could want his girlfriend to be with others. To be honest, at that point I couldn’t fully explain it either—I just thought it was exciting.
With time, I analyzed my feelings more deeply. The only reasons I could give her back then were simple: she would have a kind of sexual freedom most people only dream about, and for me it was a huge turn-on. She was scared. What if reality wasn’t as good as the fantasy? What if the excitement wore off and I stopped being attracted to her? What if my jealousy came back and I resented her? We talked as much as we could about every detail until we finally agreed to try to make it real.
We started incorporating the fantasy into our sex life. She would tell me more explicit things during foreplay about being with other men, and I could see she was accepting the idea and enjoying how crazy it drove me. Outside the bedroom, she began sharing what she would want in another man and how she imagined things would happen. This was shocking for me, because suddenly the narrative wasn’t only mine—it was hers. She was the one choosing who, how, and where, as well as the limits of what could happen.
And my first big shock came when she told me that for her, sex wasn’t the most important part—it was about the experience. She wanted to meet someone attractive, interested, who treated her well, and to feel single again. She wanted the thrill of being courted, the fun of dating, the attention and desire of a man trying to win her over. Meanwhile, I had imagined it would just be about sex, never thinking she would actually want a whole dating experience with another man.
It was also clear that whoever it was had to be someone with no connection to either of us. We didn’t want anyone to find out, to see her with another man in public, kissing, or on what looked like a date. That would have been impossible to explain and way too uncomfortable. Because of that, a lot of time passed and I started to get frustrated, even pressuring her to accept men who didn’t meet her standards. We lived in a small city, didn’t travel much, and it seemed almost impossible to find the right person.
But eventually, he showed up. The perfect candidate. A new trainer had joined our gym—attractive, muscular—and she liked him immediately.
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