Female Led Relationships

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!