The North West Cuckold Convention

The drive from my home in Lancaster to the lake district was short, pleasant and stomach churning all at once. I couldn't believe I was really doing this, but as the tyres crunched in the gravel driveway of the hotel I realised that this was truly a reality - I'd actually arrived at the third North West UK Cuckold Convention and there was now no turning back.

I'd booked two months earlier as Covid restrictions appeared to be finally lifting, and I felt pretty good about my decision. I didn't wholly identify with the concept of being a cuckold - I wasn't one of those simpering wimps, although admittedly my marriage was having at least some problems. Maybe I was fooling myself though, as it was a fact that my wife Susan had found it necessary to look outside our marriage for sexual satisfaction three times before, but I was still her man and the one she came home to - most of the time anyway...

Yes, I knew my cock was smaller than average size and my technique had always been poor. I blushed, sweated and seemed to move my hips at all the wrong times, missed the target and slipped out far too easily, with not just Susan but the other two women i had enjoyed sexual relations with year before her, and so my confidence in the area of physical coupling had never been especially high, but I'd been able to maintain a happy marriage for 20 years and that had to count for something. That said, I'd have had more success finding Blackbeard's lost treasure than finding a clitoris or a g-spot and to be honest, I'd decided that both were in the realms of mythology and that there wasn't such a thing at all anyway.

Susan, for her part, had been able to enjoy some travel around the UK with work before Covid, but had particularly enjoyed her visits to the capital. London, to her, was the capital of the entire world and the bright lights and lifestyle of those who lived there seemed a world away from our sedentary and quiet life in the north. She was lucky to have made friends there too, although the one she talked about most was Sean - apparently a tall Irish Pierce Brosnan lookalike, who had taken an early shine to her and had taken her to his bed during her visits. This fact hadn't been lost on me and i tried to give her space and time alone whilst still being a good hubbie to her, but Covid had ended her trips and her outlet with Sean and now, she had become perimenopausal and had seemed to lose interest in a lot more than sex - she was losing interest in me and I needed some help. The Cuckold Convention promised relationship counsellors and lots of helpful breakout sessions and whilst I knew there would probably be some odd people attending, nonetheless as I thought about my wife being sad and alone I picked up the phone and dialled the number to make a reservation.

Rebecca breezily answered and told me that all reservations for the convention had to be made personally by phone - no booking online as she explained that there were too many 'no shows' in the last convention, now fully three years ago. She told me that lots of men had the bravery to book on line, but were not brave enough to speak to someone in person."It sorts the men from the boys she said" and she waited for a moment for my response. I sensed this was a well worn joke and so i giggled in the right places and listened to her assurances that the hotel would be given over solely to convention guests only and that everything was very private and discreet and that I would be very well looked after.

Well now I was here, looking at what was decidedly a very pretty hotel in masses of manicured grounds and seemingly miles from the nearest hotel and from any other living person. The rain started to spatter against the windscreen, I had been warned by Rebecca who said presciently 'bring a brolly' and we'll do the rest...

I was met before the normal reception area by Jody, who was seated behind a desk that carried a sign announcing 'cuckold Convention Check In' although she advised that I'd already been checked in in and all i needed to do was tick my name on the list and collect my name badge. I blanched slightly when i saw my badge clearly stating "tom - Susan's cuckold'. Jody stayed silent as i fastened my badge to my lapel and as i studied her at the same time. i thought perhaps her lips were too big but she has massive saucer eyes of a silver blue colour that gave her a particular appeal and when she smiled I found I liked her immensely.

She gave me a room card for room 221 and some joining instructions. 'There would be twenty two cuckolds - at least that's the number that's booked, but they aren't always so brave as to actually turn up' she laughed. 'Breakfast is 7 till 9. 00, but Miss Cooper will be giving her opening remarks at 09.30 sharp, so please don't be late for that. Breakfast must be taken in the restaurant - the cuckolds aren't permitted to have breakfast in their rooms. The usual practice of ticking the required breakfast choices and hanging the form on the door handle outside before retiring to bed has been changed and instead you choose the sessions you wish to attend the night before and leave that to be collected during the night. Don't look so worried' trilled Jody happily . 'We have some great speakers and you'll learn so much and make a lot of new friends. Everyone always learns so much and I'm sure Susan will be a happier wife due to the investment you've made in coming to see us'. With that she gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and said ' the next two and a half days will be help you enormously, you'll see'.

On entering my room I was a little taken aback to find a single bed as I had requested a double, but I used my time to read the list of events for the following day which looked like a packed itinerary and i wondered how they were going to fit it all in. There were Bulls, wives, advisers and counsellors of every persuasion and my first thought was that I didn't really know who or what to book to see. Mooching around the exhibition stalls might fill in some time and I sniggered when I saw stand 26 entitled 'phallus pants'. I didn't know exactly what that meant but I could guess. There were several stalls offering chastity devices which I had expected, but I thought the tattooist stall was a bit hardcore and couldn't really imagine any business being conducted by him. I had no clue what the 'Prince Albert' stall was but ticked it anyway, as I was obliged to cover at least 70% of the sessions and stalls, but I liked the look of one or two of the life coaches as I had some interest in self development due to my job.

Having made my choices and unpacked , I was surprised to see it was now 8.40pm and with the rain lashing against my window I thought an early night was in order and so at 9.05pm I was in my little bed wondering if a restful night would come easily or not. Normally, i would masturbate before retiring, but I thought better of it as somehow it just felt wrong in the surroundings and so I closed my eyes and readied myself for some rest and a busy morning.

In what seemed like less than a minute my alarm softly began to chirp on my phone and I groggily shut that down and looked at the screen which read 06.30am. I swung out of bed and wondered what the coming few hours were really going to bring and whether my booking this had been such a good idea after all.