Optimum Tension

There’s a theory in music that in order for stringed instruments to sound their best and produce optimal quality, the strings should be as taut as possible. The purity of sound this creates, recognizable to the highly trained ear and critic, is as close to perfection as one can achieve. When successfully combined with highly complex musical scores, the performer can achieve international notoriety. Conversely, the inherent risk could be catastrophic. If a string breaks during a performance, it implies the performer doesn’t know the limits of their instrument well. Recovery from such an ill-timed failure at the wrong moment can be insurmountable.

Tonight, our quartet will push that envelope. It will be our final warm-up concert before a competition in front of renowned critics and industry representatives. Our program will feature very challenging pieces, including ones from Shostakovich’s Eighth and Tenth Symphonies. Both are benchmarks of skill and perfection that only the most talented can perform flawlessly. In addition, it’s possible that some influencers will come tonight to form an initial opinion about us. While they would reserve reviews and judgments until the competition, our effort could front load their views. It was a risk we agreed to take, knowing that in such a tight-knit community, perception mattered, both good and bad.

But there’s another “we” at play, one that had me at optimum tension and carried equal challenge and risk on a whole different dimension. In the seats near the stage will be my beautiful wife and her new bull, Reggie. In the three years that we’ve enjoyed hotwifing and now cuckolding, all of her play partners have remained anonymous to me, until now. I have smelled and tasted them on and in various parts of her body. I’ve seen their marks on her. But I’ve never knowingly met any of them.

I say knowingly because, according to Shannon, some lovers have been at parties that we’ve both attended. She doesn’t disclose them to me, for the thought alone creates the euphoric edginess I covet. I never feel more proud of how we’ve developed than when I’m chatting up a stranger who I can envision having fucked my wife. Even more delicious is the idea that I’ve licked their cum from her pussy when she came home. It’s a component of our play style that adds the exquisite edginess I needed.

Then she met Reggie. The way she spoke after their first date clearly indicated that she may have found the regular bull we were seeking.

“We connected immediately,” she’d described while we sat together on our porch swing. “I’ve never felt so drawn to a lover’s persona before. We talked for over an hour before going up to the hotel room. I could feel how wet I was for him the whole time.”

Shannon squirmed slightly as she continued. “And then there was the sex! His cock stretched me so perfectly, with just the right amount of fullness to drive me mad with lust. The way it swelled and throbbed before orgasm drove me crazy! I’ve never been with someone like that. And he came in buckets! I can’t wait to have you there with us and share in that joy with me.”

I had an idea about just how much sharing may occur. We’d pillow talked about that, too. But first came introductions. I was the one that suggested tonight.

She reacted quickly with a puzzled look. “Are you sure you can handle that? Your performance tonight is a big deal. I don’t want you disappointing the other performers, or yourself.”

I reached out for her hand. “It’s a welcome distraction, my love,” I replied. “You know how I thrive when on edge. It’s what’s made this cuck dynamic so satisfying, along with knowing how fulfilled you are. I’m looking forward to meeting him, and in seeing what may come of it.”

Shannon entwined herself around me for a searing kiss. We never ventured into playstyles that didn’t satisfy our mutual desires, and we always reconnected in each other’s arms. Her passionate display was in part assurance that after all that took place tonight, we would have our time together. That we would spend however long we needed to become one again.

As with all of her date nights, Shannon set out her entire outfit hours in advance. That way I can see how much or little she’ll be wearing. Sometimes she would tell me where they were going. Other times, I wouldn’t know until she returned. For the formality of tonight, she laid out a spaghetti-strapped black gown with see-through side panels and a thigh-high leg slit. The back was cut low enough to display her well-toned swimmer’s contours without being inappropriate. Four inch black stilettos were reasonable for the event, along with charcoal stockings. The elegant black choker with garnet stone is one I’d only seen in pictures of her sucking Reggie’s cock. Shannon has many things that she only wears for her bulls, a reminder that their world and mine carry exclusive privileges.

For tonight, she went one step further and had me bathe, manicure and dress her before leaving. She also had me pick out her garter belt, insisting only that it not be solid black. “I have to tease my men without being too indiscreet,” she said, laying four on the bed for me to pick from.

Choosing a garment item for her was a first. I took it as a nod to my unwavering support of this lifestyle that fed our desires. It didn’t take long for me to pick the lacy, deep red and black one that would match her choker. Picturing her with her dress removed sent a thrill through me. So did the idea of the garter peeking out of the dress slit as she sat in the front row.

Shannon approved of my selection, then called me over to put on her jewelry. “Isn’t this a bit early to dress?” I questioned as I accented her with dangling snake chain earrings and a similarly styled anklet. “The performance isn’t for two and a half hours.”

Her eyes lingered over her lingerie-clad body in the bedroom mirror. “Not at all. In fact, I need you to be out of here in fifteen minutes, so get moving! Reggie will be here in thirty. He talked about having something to eat before we go. I’m hoping he means me!”

My cuckold angst surged so delightfully whenever she played with my emotions like that. I quickly dressed in my performance tuxedo and drove off to the concert hall. On the way, I pictured a man that matched her descriptions of him entering our place. I envisioned her raising on her toes to greet him, allowing him to fondle the firm but tender ass I’d just cleansed and moisturized. I imagined him slipping the straps down from her shoulders to suck and tease her ripe nipples. Shannon’s cunt always started dripping when men nipped and sucked at her breasts, and his actions would certainly get her squirming. She would struggle, even beg to squat and take his cock into her mouth. Shannon was never much for teasing once she was wet. She wanted cock, hard and ready to ride or be driven by. Just keep it coming. If there was one thing to highlight from this dynamic, it was her discovery of just how multi-orgasmic and long-lasting she could be. The cock had to match her stamina.

I arrived at the theater early and discovered I was the first one there. Rather than wait in the barren practice room, I went to the dressing room, eased back in a padded chair, and closed my eyes to relax. As I took in deep, meditative breaths, my thoughts returned to my soulmate. We were the perfect match in so many ways. Our sexual journeys hadn’t always worked out, but who’s does? My greatest gift was that we discovered, laughed and agonized through it all together. We lived our adventure, while loving the experiences for what they were.

My euphoric haze kept me from hearing Gwyneth, our lead violinist, enter the room.

“Hey Mark,” she said, “we’re ready to do our warm-ups.”

I rolled up from the chair and followed her down the hall, where we began playing. My ability to center my thoughts was my only saving grace now, but it was also my strength. To succeed at this high level required a commitment to vulnerability. I could do that because of the communication, trust, and unwavering confidence we shared. If I faltered, I knew they would adjust. They were that good. It also didn’t hurt that anyone who did err had to buy the next dinner, and our tastes were expensive.

It took those same traits for Shannon and I to be vulnerable to our play style, and the euphoric joy awaiting when we did it together. It was why I was confident that having them sitting before me, an affirmation of our love, would only strengthen my resolve.

It wasn’t long before the stage manager walked in.

“Fifteen to curtain,” she said. That was my cue to hit the restroom. On the way, my thoughts again drifted to Shannon, and what may have transpired since I left the house. About Reggie coming over, and Shannon’s desire for him. My cock twitched.

Had they fucked?

If they had, I was fairly certain I could tell by looking into her eyes.

Do I dare look? How could I not look?!

I thought back to her earlier comment about sharing in her joy, and the times she had me stay awake to clean her up after a date. If they had fucked, would she be sitting there with his jizz in or on her for me to experience later? And would his expression hint of that?

Now I questioned what my reaction would be to seeing them in front of me, so close but untouchable. A hint of uncertainty crept in.

My god. Had I pushed my limits too far this time?

I rushed to join my fellow musicians at the side curtain. Gwyneth sensed my distraction, and asked, “Mark, are you ready for this?”

She meant the performance, of course. I still had Reggie and Shannon in my mind, but there was a solution that usually worked. Shannon had used it when I wasn’t focusing enough as a sub. I had told Gwyneth she could do it if I didn’t look completely dialed in, but that had never happened. Until now.

“Cheek slap,” I said to her.

She raised an eyebrow, then gave me a crisp smack. The others quickly took note.

“Thank you,” I said to her. My relaxed response put her at ease. The others jokingly took a step back from her, and we all appreciated the moment of levity.

Then we heard our introduction. I steeled my thoughts, put on a smile, and followed the others onto the stage. When the polite applause stilled, we looked at each other, raised our instruments, and began.

The notes flowed harmoniously from our instruments as we moved from one score to the next. After a period of time, I turned the page to see the word “Break” before me. Surprised, I gazed up to see my fellow musicians standing to place their instruments down. I couldn’t believe that we’d reached intermission so quickly! As I rested my cello and fell into lockstep to the dressing room, it hit me that I hadn’t even acknowledged Shannon or Reggie. For all I knew, they may not have even made it. I felt shame over my inconsiderate action. More than anything, I wanted Reggie to know I was fully supportive of Shannon, her selection of him, and our choices. I made a mental note to do that first when we returned.

Our violist handed me a bottle of water. “Hey Mark, was that Shannon sitting in front? I haven’t seen her in forever.”

His comment made me aware of just how zoned out I’d been. I would normally acknowledge the audience between numbers, both as a courtesy and to convey my confidence as well.

“I’m sorry, Richard,” I responded. “I didn’t realize how much of a zone I was in out there. I’ll try to be more relaxed for the second half.”

Richard just looked at me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I smiled up at him. “Yeah, why?”

“Because that’s not what I asked you,” he responded. “I asked if that was Shannon sitting near the stage.”

how should I respond, having not even looked at her?

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Gwyneth chimed in. “Shannon’s a blonde. That woman was a brunette.”

“Oh,” Richard replied. “Well, that’s good, because she and the guy next to her are definitely hot for each other.”

Richard turned away, and I mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Gwyneth. She knew that Shannon and I had engaged in sex with others, having crossed paths with us at a sex club one night. The three of us had flirted playfully, but it never went any further.

“You’re handling tonight beautifully,” she commented. “I’ve always been envious of your commitment and dedication to things that bring joy to your life. Shannon must appreciate that as well.”

I wanted to respond. I wanted to say how Shannon and I felt we missed out on not approaching her to play with us when at the club, and how she’d come up in our fantasies. But now was not the time. The stage manager had given us our ten-minute cue.

Now my thoughts jumped back to Shannon. I reconsidered looking at or even acknowledging her presence, let alone Reggie’s. I thought of the missed opportunity we had with Gwyneth, whom I’d always had a thing for. For a fleeting moment, I questioned whether I should have allowed all of this to converge on this special night.

And then I cold-cocked insecurity to the floor. Our lifestyle was right for us, and we reveled in it. The greatest loves of my life were before me. I was with my music. My Shannon was with the man who was fulfilling her fantasies. Both made my heart sing. And we were doing all of this together. Any notions of being with Gwyneth would wait until Shannon and I could talk it through.

I made my way to my chair and looked into the front row. Shannon had added a brunette wig to her outfit, which explained Richard’s assertion. She looked radiant as her shimmering eyes poured admiration into my soul. I glanced left, and Reggie gave me an acknowledging nod. Shannon had told me earlier that Reggie, an acclaimed athlete, had great admiration for my musical skills. I nodded back in recognition of our individual talents and the woman we shared.

Then my eyes dropped to see her pale hand laying atop his, making her diamond wedding ring dazzle against his caramel skin. My compersive side beamed from within as I gave them a smile of endearment, then sat to perform. With bows at the ready, we charged forward. My cuck energy and musical prowess combined to take my cello play to heights I’d never achieved before.

My energy clearly influenced the other performers. I could see it in their eyes. Together, we overwhelmed the audience with eruptive harmonies and passionate solos. When the last chord was struck, the audience leapt in raucous applause. I looked at my fellow performers, all beaming with pride, knowing that we’d given our best performance ever.

We stood to acknowledge the applause. Amidst cries of encore, I looked down at Shannon and Reggie. He had wrapped his powerful arm around her waist while she snaked hers around him. As they began their exit, Shannon flashed me a wink and a nod. It was our signal that she and her date had agreed that I could join them when I got home. How that would play out would be for them to say, but I was up for anything.

“Mark,” Gwyneth called out to get my attention. The others were all looking at me. “Are you also okay with the piece we just learned as an encore?”

I smiled and nodded approvingly. As Gwyneth introduced the number, and I saw Shannon and Reggie exit through the rear doors. My heart delighted in the successes of the evening, and for what may lie ahead.

Then I returned to my chair, sat with my bow at the ready, and looked at Gwyneth for our cue. She gave a wink and a nod, exactly as Shannon just had, and then counted us in.