The Path to a Female Led Marriage - Part 4

Click here to read the previous parts of the story.

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My backside throbbed as I upended the laundry basket on our bed and began carefully folding the clothes I'd just washed and dried.

It was a Wednesday night, and if you remember correctly, that was the same night Erin was going out with her boyfriend. She wasn't going to sleep with him, but she was going to offer him her affection in some manner and he was going to do the same for her.

It won't surprise you to learn that I hadn't yet conquered the brattiness that had plagued me before Erin's previous date with the man she now referred to her as her boyfriend (a man whose name I still didn't know, by the way). I won't go into the details, but suffice it to say that I spent most of that Wednesday feeling moody and was snippy with Erin when I got home from work. The end result was a punishment via her belt against my ass and thighs. It was painful, but it was supposed to be. I told my wife I wanted to be in a marriage where she made the rules and punished me when I violated them. Now I'm in that marriage so of course there are punishments and of course they're painful.

After belting me, Erin put on jeans and a black silk blouse. She paired it with heels and her hair looked long and shiny and perfect. She oozed confidence and sex appeal as she walked out of the house and I knew her boyfriend would be all over her the moment he saw her. That was the point of dressing in that manner, though.

Erin had dressed similarly when we first started going out. She dressed to impress, you could say. To arouse, too. That's what you do when you're first with someone. You put your best foot forward because you want them to like you as much as you like them. Over time - in most cases, at least - that sort of thing fades. You dress up every once in a while - like when you're on vacation - but otherwise you largely settle into routine and comfort and it's really pretty wonderful.

Then, in rare cases, you express to your wife that you'd like to be in a marriage where she makes the rules and where she also makes your cuckold fantasies come true. Then she starts dating another guy and she starts dressing for him in the way she used to dress for you, only now she's more confident so she's dressing even sexier for him and she's taken to teasing and denying your cock because it turns her on to do so and you end up grappling with way more feelings than you expected, at least where your fantasy is concerned.

In addition to the laundry, I vacuumed the house and cleaned the master bathroom on that Wednesday night. Erin had written my tasks on notepad that was stuck to our fridge with a magnet. I put a check mark next to each task as I finished it and each time I thought about her out with another man, about her holding his hand, drinking with him, telling him how much she liked him, making out with him, moaning as he grabbed her ass or played with her tits through that perfect silk blouse.

I'm not looking for your sympathy, by the way. I asked for this. I wanted it. I still want it. I could have asked Erin to go back to the way things used to be. I'm not sure she would have, but I didn't ask.

I'm just trying to explain that it's not as pure as I thought it would be. Of course it's not, though. It's like I just ignored all the stuff I'd read about cuckold angst, about the difficulties of experiencing pleasure when your wife has her sexual needs satisfied by another man. That's the thing about a fantasy, though. You ignore the parts that might be uncomfortable and focus on the good stuff. After all, it wouldn't be a fantasy if you let reality intrude, would it?

I was playing a video game (an Assassin's Creed game, if you must know) when Erin came home. I turned it off the moment I saw the car pull into the driveway. I tucked the console back into its cabinet and rushed to the door. I peered out the small vertical window next to the door and saw a man get out of the car and move to the passenger side. He opened the door and Erin stepped out. She smiled at him and they shared a quick kiss before he took her hand.

It took a few moments for me to register that it was her boyfriend. Of course it was. An Uber driver wouldn't have kissed her.

You wouldn't believe the sense of fear that came over me as they started walking towards the door. I froze in place as panic joined the fear. Were they coming inside? She'd said she was going to have sex with him at his place on Saturday. She hadn't mentioned bringing him to our house. Was this some sort of test for me?

I thought about hurrying away and hiding in the bathroom or the home office we both used. I thought about opening the door and greeting both of them as a way of showing I was fully on board with whatever Erin wanted.

Ultimately I stood behind the door, leaned in, and watched through the peephole as they approached. Erin turned to face her date - who I didn't recognize, which was a relief - and said something. He responded, but the door was too thick for me to hear anything other than muffled voices.

Then he smiled, reached up, and caressed her face. Erin smiled too. He said something while leaning in. Then there was a kiss. It was, to my eyes, a kiss to end all kisses. The most passionate kiss two people had ever shared. It started slow but deepened quickly. It began with mouths closed but soon they were opened. Tongues remained in mouths before venturing forth and engaging in an erotic dance. His hands moved down her back. Her hand moved to the back of his head. He grabbed her ass and then carefully shifted one hand to her torso, where it ventured to her chest and began to caress her breasts through the impossibly soft material of her blouse.

Then it was over. Erin stepped back and said something. He looked at her like he couldn't bear walking away. He did, though, heading back to his car while she watched. Erin waved before I heard his car start. As he backed out of the driveway, she pulled her keys from her purse and I stepped back. I heard her key in the lock and decided there was no point in hiding that I'd been watching. I opened the door.

Erin looked surprised for a moment and then she glanced between my legs and smiled. I looked down and saw the bulge that indicated I was sporting an impressive erection.

"I watched through the peephole," I announced.

Erin stepped inside, shut the door, and leaned against it. I stood a few feet away and noted that her nipples were poking through the silk blouse and the bra she'd worn with it, indicating a level of arousal that matched my own.

"That was a hell of a kiss," I said.

"It was."

I felt everything in that moment. Jealousy. Fear. Arousal. Love. Anguish. A dozen other emotions mixed together so tightly that I couldn't hope to untangle them.

"He was as hard as you are."

"Really?" I asked.

Erin nodded. "I think he was hoping I'd make him cum tonight, that maybe he could convince me to fuck him tonight instead of Saturday. I declined. I declined to give him a handjob or a blowjob, too, though he was polite enough not to ask directly for such pleasures."

"Why?"

"Because I want Saturday night to be amazing. I want there to be at least a chance that it's among the best sex either of us has ever had. At the very least I want it to be the best first time sex he's ever had with someone. I want him to wake up Sunday morning desperate for more of me. I want him to spend his week feeling borderline obsessed with me and thinking of ways to impress and arouse and delight me so I'll happily let him fuck me again."

My dick had somehow gotten harder, or at least it felt that way. Yes, some of the unpleasant feelings were still mixed in there, but at that point everything else had been drowned in a tidal wave of desire.

"I want you," I said. I wasn't really thinking. I was just acting, speaking the words that were bouncing around my head.

"I'm sure you do."

"Please."

Erin pushed away from the door. I thought her lips would find mine, but instead she kissed me on the cheek. "He couldn't have me, so you're certainly not allowed to have me. Normally I'd let you tend to my pussy, but I'm holding off until Saturday night. I want to be just as desperate for him. I want to be overcome with a need to make him feel good, to give myself to him, to ensure that he enjoys the sex just as much as I do."

My hands found her waist and I ran my fingers over the silk of her blouse. Erin made no effort to stop me as I cupped one of her breasts just like he'd done. I tried to kiss her but she turned her cheek. I went for her neck. I kissed it softly in the way I know she loves. I grabbed her ass. I tried my best to break down the walls of self control she'd built around herself, but I failed miserably. It had been pure hubris to think I could convince her to fuck when the man she clearly wanted - her boyfriend - had failed to do so.

"Can I at least rub your feet or give you a massage?"

"I'll take a foot rub," she replied. "I'll tell you all about the date while you rub me."

It was far from what I wanted, but I was willing to take it. Sometimes you don't get exactly what you want and there's nothing wrong with that.

---

I don't know why, but I'd thought there was a chance that Erin wouldn't go through with her date, that she wouldn't have sex with another man, that she wouldn't spend the night at his place, that she wouldn't actually cuckold me.

She did, though. Nearly three months after first taking control of our marriage by punishing me for failing to follow through on a promise I'd made, Erin followed through on her promise to make my cuckold fantasy come true if I could prove that I was capable of existing in a female led marriage.

She left the house in a flirty, sexy red dress. Her hair was soft and a little bit wavy and it moved in an irresistible manner with every step she took. Her lips matched the color of her dress, as did her toenails. She had on a remarkably sexy black bra and panty set and she'd packed a garter belt and stockings in her purse to change into when the time came.

"I know this is hard for me," she said as her boyfriend's car pulled into the driveway to pick her up, "but I'm going to have sex with another man tonight. Probably more than once. There's a decent chance I'll have sex with him tomorrow morning, too. It won't be aong before you're a cuckold. I'll text you after it's happened the first time, after I've cuckolded you. Also, I haven't decided if I want you to pick me up tomorrow morning or if I want him to drive me home, so please keep your phone close in case I want to make you drive to his house to pick up your well-satisfied wife."

The emotional battle raged inside me as Erin kissed me on the cheek and left. I watched her boyfriend get out of the car and greet her with a kiss before opening the passenger side door like a gentleman. Then they were off and I was on my own to deal with the fallout of my decision to request that Erin and I embark on a different kind of marriage.

Four hours later, I received a text letting me know that I'd been cuckolded. Erin followed it up with a selfie of her in his bed. She was still in her bra as she held the camera up. Her hair was splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. Her cheeks and chest were flushed red. "A well-satisfied woman," she'd added after sending the image.

I stared at the picture for quite some time. It made it more real, which I imagine was her purpose in sending it. I pictured him on top of her enjoying that view, except with a look of intense pleasure on her face as his cock moved in and out of her. My knees trembled at that particular vision and my dick tingled as an uncommon sort of arousal worked its way through my body.

What surprised me most, though, was the sense of calm that I felt. I figured I'd be full-on panicking. I'd spent most of the week in an agitated state, which is why I'd been punished multiple times. In that particular moment, though, all of the angst was gone. I was happy, actually. I'm not sure if I was happy for Erin or for myself or if what I construed as happy was actually just a sense of relief at the fact that it had actually happened, that we'd crossed the cuckold Rubicon, so to speak.

Unfortunately, the feeling didn't last. It was nothing more than a temporary reprieve. The angst returned. Of course it did. My wife had just had sex with her boyfriend. There was definitely something about the boyfriend part that bothered me. If he'd just been a fuck buddy or a bull it would have been different. At least I think. Calling him her boyfriend implied a deeper connection, as did that kiss I'd witnessed on our doorstep. Spending the night at his place implied a deeper connection, too, and there was something about that sense of connection that had me worried.

There was no other communication until Sunday morning. I'd slept terribly, of course, and while I tried to busy myself with work around the house, I was mostly inefficient at anything I tried until I got a text a little after 11 a.m.

Erin wanted me to pick her up. So I did. I drove to her boyfriend's house. I parked in the driveway. I texted to let her know I was there.

Erin stepped out in the same red dress she'd worn the night before. She still looked great in it, though her hair was pinned up instead of long and flowing. I could see her boyfriend clearly - unlike the night I'd picked her up at his house - but he was still a stranger to me. A stranger that pulled my wife close and kissed her deeply. A stranger that said something that made her smile. A stranger that had a bit of a bulge in his jeans as she walked away and waved to him.

I leaned over to open Erin's door and she got in with a smile. She leaned over to kiss me. I smelled him on her. I'm pretty sure I tasted him on her, too. That and a hint of coffee.

"Good night?" I asked.

She laughed softly and caressed my thigh as I put the car in reverse. "A spectacular night. I honestly don't know how it could have gone better. It was perfect."

I wanted to ask if the sex had been good, but she'd just answered that question. The whole point of the evening had been to fuck her boyfriend, so if the sex had been bad it couldn't have been a perfect night.

We talked about their date on the ride home. Where they had dinner. What they talked about. How he'd moved to her side of the booth so they could kiss as they shared dessert. How she'd teased his cock on the drive home. How they'd opened a bottle of wine at his place. How she'd enjoyed that he seemed more than happy to draw it out a little before they went to the bedroom, how she liked that he seemed like a man in control of his desires.

I figured we'd go right to the bedroom when we got home, but instead Erin checked the list in the kitchen - she'd given me plenty of chores to do while she was gone - and then checked my work to ensure I'd actually done a good job. If I'm being honest, there was something thrilling about it. It felt to me like she was showing just how seriously she took her role as the one in charge of our marriage and I felt a genuine sense of worry that I'd be punished if she found that I'd half-assed any of the jobs she'd given me.

Thankfully, I hadn't and I was rewarded with a deep kiss. Erin told me how much she appreciated that I'd become the kind of husband that did as his wife told him and that did so without complaint. I got hard as she said it, in part because I was insanely horny and in part because she'd managed to help guide me right into that submissive headspace that it turned out I really liked being in.

Erin then took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I undressed her and did the same for myself. She kissed me deeply while stroking my cock, luring me further into my state of desire.

I ended up on my back in our bed with Erin straddling my chest. Her pussy was warm and wet against my skin and I wanted nothing more than for her to either slide forward or backwards so I could taste or fuck her.

It was while resting on my chest that she said offered the first sexual details from the night before. "We had sex three times last night. More than I expected. He's a virile man, though, and the sex was good enough that he couldn't help himself. I couldn't either. He made me cum in a way few men ever have."

The angst was building as my wife explained that the orgasms she'd had with her boyfriend were likely better than the ones she had with me.

"Because the sex was so good last night, I let him have me again this morning. Twice." She smiled. "Once in bed and once in his kitchen. He fucked me five times in the span of roughly twelve hours. That's in part because it was the first time and it won't be like that in the future, but it was proof that I made a good choice, that he's the right kind of boyfriend for me."

I remembered the sexual energy of the early days of a relationship, how my body ensured that I couldn't go more than half an hour without thinking about wanting to fuck the woman I'd become enraptured with. Now another man got to experience that with my wife and I felt a tidal wave of jealousy wash over me, albeit while my cock strained with desire.

"You've been cuckolded," she said. "How do you feel?"

"I feel...I feel everything. Turned on. Nervous. Anxious. Horny. Jealous. Annoyed with him for having sexual chemistry with you. Annoyed with myself for fantasizing about this. Thrilled that my fantasy has come true. I really do feel everything. It's terrible and wonderful at the same time."

Erin laughed softly. "You're cute like this...and I have to admit that I like sitting over you like this, astride your chest with my weight pressing down on you, you looking up at me from that...submissive position."

I liked that she liked it. I wanted her to like me in a submissive position.

"If you could have anything right now, what would it be?" she asked.

"I want to be inside you. I want to kiss you while I'm inside you, while we're making love. I want to think about you having sex with someone else while we do that. I want to let myself go, let myself really feel my fantasy, really experience the pleasure of it coming true."

Erin smiled and slid her hips back. She took me inside her without a hint of resistance. "I'm still wet from being with him."

I groaned at how good it felt to hear her utter those words. "Fuck that's hot."

She leaned down, smiled, and began to ride me slowly while kissing my neck. "The sex was so good I considered staying with him all day, hanging out naked in his house and surrendering to my desire for him whenever it came up. I wonder how many times we could have fucked before he was too exhausted to keep going. I don't think it would have been enough for me. I don't think I could possibly satisfy the desire I feel for him right now, the need my body has for him, for my boyfriend."

"Oh, fuck..."

I came inside her just a few moments later. There was something about the way she uttered those delicate words, about how she moaned while saying them, about how she expressed such intense desire for someone other than me. It tapped into my cuckold fantasy in the most potent manner imaginable and I had the best orgasm of my life. Plus, it seemed to go on forever, which was amazing.

"Thank you," I said afterwards.

Erin smiled, kissed me softly, and replied, "You're welcome."

She remained on top as I went soft inside her. I wrapped my arms around my wife and held her close. "When are you seeing him again?"

"I'm not sure yet. Next weekend at the latest, but I might surrender to my desires and see him during the week. I kind of like the idea of getting all pent up again, though. There's something really hot about spending a full week wanting a man with such intensity and then letting all that lust spill out of me as he takes me to his bedroom, as wear strip each other naked, as our hands and mouths explore each other, as we surrender to the overpowering desire and fuck each other until we've experienced the kind of climaxes that only seem to exist in romance novels."

My cock twitched inside her. "Do you think I'll be able to have you twice today?"

"No," she answered without hesitation, both crushing my hopes and arousing me. "I don't mean to be harsh, but I want him more than I want you right now and I think that giving you too many orgasms will be detrimental to your behavior, so you'll likely be limited to one a week. With any luck, though, they'll be among the best orgasms you've ever had."

It was both agonizing and arousing that she had laid bare a plan for controlling my orgasms. "I love you," I said. "And thank you for your commitment to this...lifestyle we've embarked on. I know it's work for you and I'm sorry when I'm disappointing."

"That's what the belt is for," she replied. "And you're welcome. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't rewarding for me, though, and it's been more rewarding than I could have imagined, and not just because I get to have a boyfriend. As it turns out, I think I really like being in a marriage where I'm in control, where I make the rules, where my husband finds pleasure in doing as he's told."

She kissed me on the cheek, climbed off of me, and gestured for me to follow as she made her way to the bathroom. I did as instructed and was rewarded with the pleasure of washing my wife's body in the shower.

Then another week of being a submissive husband in a female led marriage began.