Female Led Relationships

The following morning both Moira and I slept in late. We were both tired
after the events of the previous night, and Moira didn’t even wake up until
about 11 o’clock. I awoke with an unrelieved massive hard-on about half past
nine, but I remembered Moira had said something about me not masturbating,
and I was not about to risk her anger. Instead I lay in bed next to my
marital Mistress for over an hour, absorbing the warmth of her soft,
feminine body, and thinking about her and Lars, her latin looking lover
of the previous evening. I had decided that I enjoyed obeying Moira, even
when she was forbidding me sex, but I felt a great deal more uncertain about
Lars’s role in this complicated situation. _He_ had said Moira was not
to permit me sex until _he_ said so. Who was he to say such a thing?
Certainly Moira was clearly taken with his body, but I was still Moira’s
husband, I told myself. It was one thing being made to wait an indefinite
period for sex by your wife, quite another when ordered about, even
indirectly, by her lover.

Yet what could I do about it? Nothing! Time though, I told myself, was on my
side. Our honeymoon trip would be coming to an end in a couple of days, and
we would have to return to England, dreary gray Liverpool skies, and some
kind of blessed normality. At least Lars would be left behind! Moira
would no doubt continue to assert her newly established right to copulate
with whomsoever she chose from time to time, but I’d be used to the idea by
then, and perhaps I’d be able to figure out ways to deal better with the
situation.

When Moira awoke, she reminded me about her proposed shopping trip, after
first flicking the still engorged knob of my prick with her long,
pink-painted finger-nails and laughing dismissively. “Put little Willy
away,” she told me. “I don’t want my reputation ruined by anyone spotting my
husband’s inadequacies!” I grimaced at the insult, but wisely kept quiet.
“Good boy” she reassured me. “Don’t worry. You mustn’t play with him, but
we’ll get some things today which will make your temporary chastity a little
bit easier on you”. Moira always had enjoyed being mysterious!

With that Moira raised my chin a little and slid down the bed just a
fraction. Before I had time to think her mound was pressing on my mouth. I
found my tongue beginning to work on her, opening her luscious passage way.
Inexpertly I fought to breathe and pleasure my dominant woman at the same
time. Then I tasted the spunk. It was true, he really had filled her up. She
was full of it. Thick, stringy blobs of cum plastered my lips, and I was
forced to drink it down. The taste wasn’t too bad, but the thought that this
was another man’s milk I was sucking from my own wife’s cunt had my prick
rock hard. How I wanted to get on top of Moira and plunge my own weapon into
her hole, joining my own liquid to his. I thought about my own, apparently
rather slim and inadequate, penis sliding through the semen-rich slickness
of Moira’s vagina, but I had to accept it wouldn’t be allowed.

Eventually Moira came and pronounced herself satisfied that I’d proved my
loyalty to her. “This is only the beginning though,” she was keen to
explain. “I’ve got plans to keep my little husband a proper, respectable,
chaste little husband, and I’m sure he’ll enjoy them! There are ways for
wives to keep cuckolded husbands happy and faithful which will still allow
me to keep my promise to Federico. They may seem a bit strange at first, but
I’m sure you’ll come to thank me for keeping you in a permanent state of
sexual tension. You and I may be going on a little shopping trip tomorrow,
so bring your credit cards darling; I want to spend some of our money on
keeping you happy!”

With that I was told to go to sleep now, but though Moira was soon
peacefully sleeping, and I was totally exhausted from the previous few hours
of nervous tension and lack of sleep, my aching balls just would not let me
rest. That and the thought of what on earth it might be that Moira want’d to
buy me tomorrow! One thing was clear to me though: I had just let Moira take
charge of my life, humiliate me in ways which most men would never accept,
and yet I felt only a profound happiness, almost elation, conquering what
remained of my infantile jealousy. Moira had promised to keep me hers
forever if I obeyed her, and that was all that mattered to me!

All the while she was laying down the law Moira stroked my head and my
shoulders. She held me tight between her wonderful thighs, and every now and
again pushed my nose a little harder against the wet, soft entrance to her
hole. “I’ll be laying down lots of rules for you,” she continued, “and
you’ll have to enjoy obeying them if you want to stay with me.

“This is your first test. You may as well know that Lars and I have
been to bed together.” - As if I hadn’t already guessed! - “We have made
love, more than once, and I enjoyed it very much. Lars is obviously a
very practiced lover, and really knows how to please a woman. He’s better at
it than you’ll ever be! For one thing, he’s really well hung. His beautiful
male cock is so much bigger than yours darling; you could never compete with
him. He has the most wonderful broad, flat chest, fascinating, powerful dark
eyes, and balls the size of hens’ eggs. His cock must be at least twice as
long and thick as yours. When he put it up me I almost came straight away,
he stretched me so much. When he pumped his powerful tool up and down me, he
took me to heaven and back. He made me cum and cum and cum. I was his. He
waited until I was exhausted by my orgasms, and _then_ he spunked me. It was
superb darling. I could feel his massive balls dangling between my legs, and
feel them tightening as he got ready to fill me with his load. When he
ejaculated I was too tired to cum again, but he looked me in the eyes as his
semen gushed out of his giant prick into me, telling me I was his, and I
knew it was true. After he’d finished cuming he made me lick his lovely tool
clean. In between stuffing his cock in my mouth he made me promise not to
allow you sex until he said so, but I know you love me, and I know you’ll
enjoy waiting for me darling.

“Now! Prove to me you accept all this by sucking me off. My pussy is full of
Lars’s creamy white spunk of course, but I want you to suck me really
hard all the same, and no playing with yourself either!”

As my apologies multiplied I got more and more scared that she really would
leave me, the only woman I had ever fucked! As if to prove my loyalty to her
I literally crawled out of bed and knelt before her. When she said nothing
at first I was afraid, but when she still said nothing I felt encouraged….
she was listening to me! I tried hard to accurately assess the effect of my
every word on her, stealing glances up at her divine features from my
position at her feet. It was clear she was listening, and was interested.
After a few minutes the acute anger died from her face, to be replaced by
something more akin to contempt and triumph. She had won, and she knew it. A
few more minutes and she was in bed beside me, staring at me, her mood by
now almost contemplative.

By now I was telling her that I knew I had no right to question her
movements. I had to trust my wife, and if she wanted to dance with other
men, well, of course I couldn’t object. If she wanted to let other men hold
her, well, that was OK. If she wanted to socialise with other men in their
rooms, who was I to object?

She smiled. Moira actually smiled again. I was happy. I loved this woman who
could forgive me raising my voice to her. Laying on her back Moira spread
her legs apart and motioned me to put my head between her thighs. I did so,
crawling down into the bed beneath the sheet. Moira took my hair in her
hands and pulled my head up to her feminine mound of light brown hair. Then
she pushed my nose into her labia and held me there. The smell of sex was
overpowering. I breathed in deeply, and my little, shrivelled cock began to
relax and expand again. Moira just held me there. For several minutes she
said nothing, though once satisfied that I had understood that I was not to
move, she let go of my hair and began gently stroking and caressing my head,
and running her exquisitly sharp nails over my bare back.

As the minutes passed my heart rate slowed. I was in heaven. Moira loved me
in her own strange way, and we were finding a way of living together. I
tried to show my appreciation by licking Moira’s already damp labia, but she
tapped me sharply on the head until I stopped. After a few more minutes
though she began talking to me again, and I learned how things were going to
be between us from now on.

“You don’t need to worry about Lars,” she told me firmly. “You’re my
husband and as long as you’re loyal to me, obey me, and look after me, I’ll
stay with you. But you may as well know that I didn’t choose you to marry me
because of your body! I chose you because of your one key quality: loyalty.
I reserve my right to fuck whomsoever I choose. You’ll fuck nobody without
my say-so. I might choose to mate with you ocassionally. Then again I might
not. Either way you’re going to have to learn to control that nasty
masturbating habit of yours. You needn’t think I don’t know all about it!”

Seeing my wife of just under two weeks leave the disco with her lover
brought me out of my state of shock somewhat. I was embarassingly conscious
of my semen-soaked trousers, and whilst I was pretty sure nobody would see
anything in the poor light of the disco, I headed back to our honeymoon room
trembling at the knees with excitement at what I had experienced. As I
cleaned myself up and got ready for bed I thought about what the stranger in
the disco would now be doing to Moira, my wife. I couldn’t get the thought
of his huge cock opening her up out of my head. I visualised him on top of
her, sucking her perfect tits into his mouth, and pushing his magnificent
manhood slowly into her gently yielding love box. I imagined his rough lips
on hers, rubbing away her pink lipstick with his passion, as his tongue
forced its way into her mouth. Then I thought about his spunk coming out of
him, and jetting upwards into my wife, and her loving every minute of his
penetration of her body. How would she react when she found me still awake
in bed when she eventually returned, assuming that she did come back tonight
at all? Would she be calm, as if nothing had happened, all the time walking
around the room with that man’s load inside her? I couldn’t sleep and waited
hours for her, waited with a throbbing cock I didn’t dare attend to.

Eventually, about five o’clock in the morning, I heard a key turn in the
hotel room door. I didn’t say anything, but listened intently as Moira’s
silent outline made its way to the side of our honeymoon bed. She was
obviously trying not to wake me, but I needed to talk to her and see what
kind of state she was in. I felt nervous, angry, self-pitying and hot for
Moira’s body all at the same time. Steeling myself to some kind of
confrontion I turned the bedside lamp on.

Moira froze. She was just about to get into bed beside me, and looked
startled. Other than surprise though she didn’t look too unkempt; she’d
obviously had time to groom herself after satisfying herself on that other
man’s cock. This was the first time I’d seen Moira looking somewhat less
than confident, and emboldened by her worried, surprised look, I built up
courage to act the part of the outraged husband.

“Where the hell have you been?” I barked at her. A quick flash of anger
distorted her beautiful face. Before I could say anything else the open palm
of her hand slapped heavily across my cheek, her long, red nails tearing my
skin like claws. “Never speak to me like that again!” my wife mouthed
quietly to me, barely controlled outrage quivering in her voice. This was
the moment which changed my life. Even then I knew it. Should I attempt to
hit Moira? Should I show her who was going to be boss in this marriage? Or
should I simply get up and leave? For a moment I hesitated, but deep down I
knew what I had to do. I crawled to her, Moira my goddess. I implored her
forgiveness, and whimpered on about how I’d learn to control my stupid male
jealousy, if only she’d forgive me and let me stay with her. I’d serve her
loyally all my days. I’d work hard and have my pay-cheque paid into her
account every month. I’d do anything, but - please Moira - allow me to stay
with you!

I remained almost frozen with indecision. Then the man’s strong looking face
bent down to Moira’s again, and they began a long, deep kiss. Oh god, I
thought, he’s putting his tongue into her! If he was, then Moira was clearly
not resisting. The kiss went on and on. The man could be clearly seen
working his fingers inside Moira’s panties now, and with mounting tension
and horror I realised he was thrusting his fingers between her legs from
behind, forcing her mound onto his engorged cock at the front, whilst all
the time keeping his mouth clamped on hers. My wife was being frigged off by
some latin male in front of my very own eyes! I felt my body tense up with
sheer shock, but at the same time I noticed my own prick expanding. I
watched transfixed as Moira was practically fucked on the dance floor and
thought of my own desires to shaft her. It was all too much. I was so
confused. I wanted so desperately to fuck my wife, but if I couldn’t do it I
still wanted to see her getting fucked. The thought of my wife opening her
legs for this man, and being filled with powerful spurts of his semen as he
somehow turned her into a ‘proper’ fuckable woman was almost too much to bear.

Moira hadn’t seen me, but suddenly her partner did. He plainly noticed me
staring, but his only reaction was to say, quite loudly, to my wife: “I’m
going to put one finger up your arse now, and then you’re going to follow me
to my room!” I watched as the shadow of his forefinger made gentle thrusting
movements inside her panties. Moira groaned, a deep, hungry, sexual groan of
desire. He held my wife’s body to him as she wiggled her arse, impaled on
his finger. Moira’s lips curled open, looking thick and sensual, as she
threw her head back, clearly in ecstasy. Whether she was quite cuming or not
was not clear, but to my shame _I_ did! I was conscious of the biggest
erection of my life in my pants and a superb sensuous feeling in the
knob-head of my cock as it pressed against the tight elastic of my pants’
waistband. Then I was cuming helplessly. My spunk flooded out soaking my
trousers, right there on the dance floor. It felt so good, but I almost
collapsed with the joy of release. Even after cuming my shrinking dick moved
slickly through the thick sliminess of my cum, and it still felt great.

My mind was in turmoil though. My wife was by now heading off to her lover’s
room, without ever having noticed my presence. I was helpless with jealousy,
but also overwhelmed by sexual release and sheer physical pleasure. If this
was what being cheated on felt like…. I was interested in knowing more!

Before long I found myself masturbating alone to relieve the tension. Even I
couldn’t believe this. I was on my honeymoon with the most gorgeous woman on
earth, yet I was being forced to wank off like some teenager to stop myself
going insane with lust. Unable to possess Moira I found myself reduced to
stealing her sexy, silky panties. I spunked huge amounts of creamy white cum
into her shiny knickers, imagining myself pushing my prick up her like the
one and only time I’d been permitted that luxury. Then I’d hide the used
panties in the laundry basket, hoping no-one would look too closely!

When Moira made it plain that in the evenings she fully intended dancing
with other men after dinner, as well as me, I took it in my stride. Moira
could do no wrong, and I was determined to take a broad-minded, liberal
attitude to this. At first it was just disco dancing. She never actually
touched her other partners. But then as the two weeks of the honeymoon wore
on, and it was plain I wasn’t going to insist on either my conjugal “rights”
or possessing her as an exclusive dancing partner, Moira began staying on
the dance-floor for the slower numbers too. This really did churn me up
inside. I was forced to watch as my new wife allowed herself to be held
tightly by handsome men who all seemed more confident and experienced than
me. I sat at a side table guarding Moira’s drink, whilst she smooched with
some hunk. I watched in agony as the man’s hands would reach around her back
and press her soft body to him.

One evening towards the end of the honeymoon I sat at my side table as a new
latin-looking stranger (and yes, he was - quite literally - tall, dark and
handsome) caressed my wife’s bare back, pressing her sacred breasts to his
broad chest. Then I noticed that he was maneuvering Moira gradually towards
the darkest part of the disco. I strained my eyes to follow their movements.
I could hardly see them through the throng of bodies, but to my absolute
horror I thought I saw him kissing Moira full on the lips. I was in agony. I
couldn’t be sure of what I’d seen, and tried to tell myself that either I’d
imagined it, or Moira was very drunk. I thought about fighting the man…..
and decided I couldn’t do it. He had looked big and muscular, and for all I
knew if I tried to come between him and “his girl” he might produce a knife
or worse. I was terrified for my new marriage, and scared of confronting the
situation. In the end I sidled alone on to the dance-floor, and danced
pathetically, with strange, agonised, nervous jerks, over in their direction.

My worst fears were confirmed. Up fairly close, even in the semi-darkness, I
could see the man’s right hand snaking up Moira’s mini-skirt and caressing
the wonderful, round globes of her arse. As he stroked Moira’s bum he pulled
her hips onto his, and with mounting horror I suddenly saw the vague shape
of what could only be the massive bulge of an erect cock in his trousers.
Soon he had Moira’s crotch rubbing against his clearly excited phallus as
they swayed to the slow music. She must be able to feel his cock rubbing
against her? What on earth was she thinking? Why didn’t she break off? What
was I to do?