Probably my obsession with cuckolding comes from reading Dostoevsky's The Eternal Husband this week. The following is part of a chilling scene were the possibly murderous cuckold is taunting his dead wife's former lover:
And all at once, quite unexpectedly, Pavel Pavlovitch put up his two fingers like two horns on his bald forehead and went off into a low, prolonged chuckle. He sat like that, chuckling, for a full half-minute, staring into Velchaninov's face in a frenzy of malignant insolence. The latter was petrified as though at the sight of some ghost. But his stupefaction lasted but one brief instant; a sarcastic and insolently composed smile came slowly upon his lips.
Nope -- not feeling any metaphoric horns with other women.
Chuckle, chuckle.
