The Path to a Female Led Marriage - Part 7

Click here to read the previous parts of the story.

As it turns out, the path to a female led marriage isn't always lined with pleasure for the husband, nor his wife. There are bumps along the way. There are disagreements. There are lessons to be learned. Sometimes, the submissive man has to come to terms with the idea that his willingness to put her needs above his is the way to a happy female led marriage.

Sometimes, though, it's all about pleasure as both husband and wife experience heightened levels of arousal because of their pursuit of this uniquely kinky, thrilling lifestyle.

---

On most nights, Erin gets home from work a little later than I do. Her job pays well and provides great benefits, but that comes with the requirement of working more than the typical forty hours a week. It's never been a problem and I can't imagine it ever will be - again, she gets paid very well - and ever since our marriage shifted in the direction of female led, I've been tasked with preparing dinner. It was a job we used to split, but now it falls on me every five nights a week.

In a typical marriage, that might upset the balance of things. In the new version of our marriage, I find pleasure in taking on more domestic responsibility. I'm not walking around the kitchen with a boner, but I do feel a surprising lightness of being and I find myself smiling a great deal more often than I used to as preparing dinner - in whatever form that takes - now comes with a small dose of submissive bliss because I'm following a rule my wife enacted.

Erin got me an apron a month ago. It says 'house husband' on it. It's the sort of thing that's meant as a joke in most marriages, but I like that it serves as a reminder that I've now taken on most of the household responsibilities, that I do so because I find such intense satisfaction in making my wife's life better by my willingness to do almost all the domestic chores.

I wear the apron whenever I make breakfast or dinner at home. I put it on proudly. In the mornings, Erin usually gives me a kiss when she sees me in it. "You look good, my house husband," she'll say before her lips meet mine. She sometimes gives my ass a pat or a squeeze, like she's embodying the role of an old school husband who loves that his wife is so eager to make his home a happy one.

I'd just put on the apron a week and a half ago when I got a text from Erin letting me know that she'd had a stressful day at work and was going to stop by her boyfriend's house before coming home. She instructed me to delay dinner prep by half an hour to give her time to de-stress with Travis.

My first reaction was one of intense jealousy and insecurity. I could have helped relieve her stress. I could have offered a massage or sex or oral sex. I could have made her a drink. I could have listened to her talk to help relieve her of the burden she'd carried home from work.

I knew, though, that she wanted something from Travis that she couldn't get from me. She wanted to get fucked - I was assuming - by a man with alpha energy. Someone that would strip her naked, toss her into his bed, and fuck her with such vigor and power and aggression that she could fully let go, that she could surrender to his need to be inside her, to pound her, to take his pleasure while offering her a beautiful orgasm of her own.

I don't fuck my wife like that. I never have, to be honest, which is why Travis is perfect for her. As I stood in the kitchen that day, though, I was forced to confront one of the drawbacks of embracing my submissive side. Erin now understood - without reservation - that I could not be everything she needed me to be. I could not be the man that does all the households chores, that worships her, that follows her rules while also being the man that exudes alpha energy and fucks her so well that she forgets all of her stress.

True to her word, Erin came home half an hour later than usual. I was busy preparing dinner by then and she walked into the kitchen with a smile on her face. Her hair was a mess. Her eye makeup was smeared a little. It seemed that she'd made very little effort to put herself back together after getting fucked by her boyfriend, which I appreciated. It was a gift to the part of me that loved being cuckolded.

The kiss she offered was also a gift, as was the way she grabbed my ass and pulled me close. Afterwards, Erin surveyed the kitchen for a moment and then spun around and said, "Unzip me."

I helped her out of her skirt and folded it over the back of a chair. Erin was leaning against the counter when I turned to face her once more. She pointed to the floor at her feet and I approached and fell to my knees.

"I got what I needed from my boyfriend," she said while pulling her panties aside. "That is, he fucked me to two incredible orgasms with that perfect cock of his. I was on my back with my legs spread. He slipped inside me and he took me away, Dan. He transported me to a place of stress free pleasure, which is exactly where I needed to be after today."

I stared at her pussy, which looked as though it had received a genuinely vigorous working over. I felt the most incredible sense of jealousy as I stared, but of course I did. My wife had been fucked to two orgasms by another man, the man she had chosen to relieve her stress, the man she had chosen because he was better at that particular task than I was.

"I need something from my husband, though," she continued.

"Anything."

"You're so sweet, Dan."

Her smile was genuine and her compliment warmed my heart. Erin ran her fingers through my hair and rested a hand on the back of my head.

"I need you to worship the pussy that my boyfriend just fucked. I need you to show me that you understand your new place in our marriage, that sometimes Travis is going to be better suited to satisfying me than you are. I need you to put your tongue inside me and taste the sex I had with my boyfriend. I need you to embrace your place, to look up at me and hold my gaze as you eat my pussy while wearing that cute apron. I don't want to hear you say that you accept that Travis is better in bed than you. I want you to demonstrate your acceptance of that fact by worshiping my pussy without complaint."

Her hand remained on the back of my head, but Erin applied no pressure. It was my choice to make to lean in and worship her pussy. I was eager to do so, though her attaching my acceptance of my place as an inferior sexual being - which is what she was basically saying - to the act of licking her pussy did make me hesitate. It was true, though. Travis was better at fucking her than I was. It was also true that Erin was growing into her power, that she had come to realize that she could call upon Travis to fuck the stress out of her before coming home to me and a freshly prepared meal, that she could take full advantage of her new position as a dominant, in charge woman and shape her life to be exactly as she wanted it to be.

I looked up, met her gaze, and leaned in to worship my wife's pussy as I thought of her as a beautiful, powerful, fully in charge woman taking advantage of all the perks available to her to lead her best life. I thought, too, of how thrilling I found it to play a part in Erin's ascension to her finest form, of how exciting it was that my submission had already helped her achieve a greater sense of happiness.

She came after just a few minutes, holding my head in both hands while rubbing her clit over my lips and tongue. I watched the pleasure dance over her face and listened to a series of beautiful moans fill our kitchen.

Erin helped me to my feet afterwards, kissed me, and then patted me on the ass and walked away to change out of her work clothes. I returned to preparing dinner, this time with an erection straining in my pants as arousal coursed through me. I would not cum that night, though, as Erin had begun limiting my orgasms in the name of deepening my interest in submission. It worked like a charm, too, as the hornier I got the more interested I was in doing damn near anything to make my wife happy. I did receive a teasing handjob that night, though, which ended with Erin sitting on my face while she played with her tits and talked about how good it felt to have Travis's big cock pounding her just a few hours earlier.

I would have given anything for Erin to be riding my dick as she described the pleasure of having sex with her boyfriend, but my orgasms were fully under her control and if she chose to deny me it was my job to accept her denial without putting up too much of a fight. I almost always succeeded at that, too.

---

"Can I cum tonight?"

It was three nights later. It had been more than a week since I'd had an orgasm. I was feeling rather pent up and Erin looked especially fetching in a satin camisole with what must have been a push up bra underneath because her breasts were positively mouth watering.

We were on the couch when I asked. She was reading something on her Kindle and I was rubbing her feet while paying half attention to a baseball game. Erin looked up from her device and asked, "How long has it been?"

"More than a week."

She directed one of her feet to my crotch and massaged my cock while holding my gaze. It didn't take long for me to get hard.

"No, you may not," she said.

"Why?" I heard the demanding, whining quality in my voice the moment I uttered that single word. I regretted it.

There was a flash of annoyance on Erin's face. I'd seen it before. I tried my best not to be annoying, but it happened from time to time, largely around my desire to cum. It was one area where we were sometimes in direct opposition to each other. There was no doubt in my mind that I made for a better submissive when I was horny, but the horniness made me ever more desperate for an orgasm, thus the conflict.

"Because I said so. Because I make the rules in this marriage. Because one of the rules is that I control your orgasms, that you are not allowed to cum without my permission. You are allowed to ask, but you must respect my decisions regarding your orgasms, Dan. That's the rule. Do you have a problem with that rule?"

I felt agitated. She had a date planned with Travis for the next night. She was going to stay over at his place. She was going to get fucked, to have numerous orgasms. Her boyfriend would be cumming a great deal, too. I would likely be denied the ability to cum, which meant I would spend the whole night feeling desperate and frustrated and jealous and insecure. It was still 24 hours away at that point and I knew I had no right to get annoyed with her, but I genuinely couldn't help myself.

"Erin, please. Tomorrow night's going to be really hard for me if I haven't cum. I'm going to be horny and angsty and sleep is going to be really fucking difficult."

I shouldn't have cursed at her. That was a mistake. She pulled her feet from my lap as annoyance washed over her face. She stood up and held out her hand. I knew what she wanted. I stood up. I took off my belt. I handed it to her. I lowered my pants and underwear. I bent over.

The belting was painful. It's meant to be painful, though. It's meant to teach a lesson. It's meant to deliver a punishment that immediately clears the air, that washes away whatever frustration and anger she felt, that helps to center me in a submissive headspace. It did all of that and left a lingering pain that I felt for a few days, especially when sitting on the hard surface of our kitchen chairs.

After the belting, Erin welcomed me between her legs to worship her pussy. She'd done it a few times, telling me each time that slowly worshiping her pussy was a perfect way for me to thank her for disciplining me and putting me back on track to being the kind of submissive husband I insisted I wanted to be. I thought of her words as I worshiped her pussy after the belting and I found myself awash in arousal amidst the pain. Erin was a dominant wife. She was the wife I wanted her to be. Our marriage continued to evolve down a female led path. I continued to evolve as a submissive. I had Erin to thank for all of that as she'd demonstrated the fortitude to take control, to push through my misgivings and insecurities, to craft the kind of marriage it turned out we both wanted to be a part of, even if there were a few bumps along the way.

---

"You know what I find so fascinating?" Erin asked, her words gently slurred from the two glasses of wine she'd enjoyed with dinner.

Based on her smile, I suspected she was about to say something at least tinged with naughty energy. "What's that?" I asked.

I smelled the wine on her breath as she leaned in. Her cashmere sweater brushed against my arm and her perfume joined the wine in gently assaulting my nasal passages. Her lips found my neck and a delightful shiver of pleasure worked its way down my spine and between my legs, stirring my long-denied cock - almost two weeks at that point - to a half erect state with very little effort.

"I find it fascinating that I really, really like sucking Travis's cock and that I really don't ever feel the desire to suck yours," she whispered.

Her confession - or tease, I suppose - was following by a moan and more kisses against my neck. Had I not gone two weeks without an orgasm I might have found her words upsetting, but in the context in which they were delivered I found myself with a raging erection.

"Is that true?" I asked.

"It is. I gave him a blowjob today, in fact." She leaned back and I turned to see her smiling. "I gave my boyfriend a blowjob and swallowed his cum, Dan."

"When?"

"I stopped by his house after I went shopping. I saw this couple at the store. They were touchy and flirty and I saw her whisper into his ear at one point. Based on how he looked at her afterwards I was certain she'd told him he was getting a blowjob tonight. It triggered something in me. A desire to have Travis's cock in my mouth, to be on my knees in front of him, to pleasure him without the need for him to do anything other than enjoy my mouth."

She hadn't mentioned going to Travis's house and I felt a little left out. I assumed that her reveal on the couch was all part of the plan, though, and she certainly had me worked up in a way that I enjoyed.

"And you enjoyed sucking his cock and swallowing his cum?" I asked, purposefully using dirty words because it turned me on.

Erin leaned in again. She kissed my neck again. "I loved sucking his cock," she whispered. "It got me wet enough that I masturbated as I drove home."

"Why didn't you just wait so I could make you cum when you got home?"

"I didn't want to wait. I wanted to cum as soon as I got in the car. Don't worry, though. You're going to make me cum tonight, Dan. Multiple times, in fact."

I was rock hard at that point.

"You don't like sucking my dick anymore?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Not at all, actually. Maybe that will change after a while. I could see it being a fun way to tease you. I have no desire to make you cum in my mouth, though, and I got really turned on when Travis came today, when his load spilled into my mouth. I didn't even mind the taste. It was such a turn on to swallow for him, to see how much he liked cumming in my mouth, to see him smile when I swallowed. I like knowing that he's going to think about that the next time he jerks off, that he'll imagine me on my knees taking his load and swallowing for him. I fucking love that, in fact."

Erin moved to her knees on the couch, unbuttoned her jeans, and guided my hand into them. She was soaked. She was drunk enough to feel a little out of control, too, which was a refreshing change of pace, as the dominant version of my wife tended to be quite controlled.

We kissed as I fingered her. Desire coursed through my body, urging me to push her onto her back, yank her jeans off, and fuck her.

I did move her to her back. I did take her jeans off. I still had agency, after all. I wasn't an automaton waiting for instructions from my wife. A female led marriage isn't like that (ours isn't, at least).

Erin stopped me when I tried to take my pants off, though. "Not yet," she said.

Then she peeled off her panties and began to masturbate. I moved closer but she pressed a foot against my chest and gently pushed back.

"Can I worship your pussy?"

She shook her head. "You can watch. You like to watch, right cuck?"

She didn't call me 'cuck' or 'cuckold' all that often. It was exciting. I liked the alcohol-infused version of my dominant wife.

"I do like to watch. I wish I got to watch more often."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

"I wonder what you could do to make me want to give you that gift, cuck."

My mind raced. I wasn't sure if she had something specific in mind or if she was implying that I should do something to please her, which would in turn make her want to reward me.

I stopped thinking when she pressed her toe against my lips. I took it in my mouth and she smiled before moaning loudly. Toe sucking was not something I'd done much of, but it felt wildly sexy in that moment. Erin moved her other foot to my lap and began rubbing my dick through my pants, leaving me awash in both mental and physical pleasure as her fingers danced over her clit and pussy lips.

"Fuck, I'm cumming!"

Her toe curled in my mouth and I kept on sucking. She kept rubbing me through my pants, too, all while her eyes closed, her back arched, and her pussy spasmed from the pleasures of a climax fueled by what I hoped were all manner of dirty dominant thoughts.

Her feet pulled back after her climax. She sat with her knees bent and thighs parted, offering me a view of her exceedingly wet pussy.

"Get naked," she said.

I stood and stripped with remarkable haste. Once naked I looked towards my wife, who straightened and spread her legs.

"Fuck me."

I was inside her a moment later. I began to thrust with wild abandon. It had been two weeks since I'd experienced the sort of pleasure her pussy offered and I was almost literally out of my mind, making focus of any kind utterly impossible.

"That's it, cuck," she said. "Fuck my pussy. Fuck my tight little cunt. Fuck it hard. Fuck it as hard as you want. Fuck it and cum in me."

I was struck by an unexpected desire, one likely fueled by my own semi-drunk state. "Does it feel good to get fucked by your cuck?" I asked.

At first, her smile was sweet, like she could tell I was asking for something and she felt an appreciation for my boldness. Then Erin ran her hands down my back and grabbed my ass as a fierceness washed over her face.

"You're nowhere near as good as my boyfriend, cuck. You should be grateful I even let you in my pussy."

I came with such strength that I felt an immediate sense of lightheadedness. I collapsed on top of her and Erin wrapped her arms and legs around me, caressing my back and moaning softly as I emptied a two week load inside her.

"I love you, Dan," she whispered.

I was still cumming so I couldn't speak, but I heard the tenderness in her voice, the genuine nature of her love. It helped guide me to a place of pure happiness and I made sure to return the sentiment as soon as I could talk.

"I love you too, Erin, and that was incredible. Just incredible. Maybe the best orgasm I've ever had."

"I wonder what your orgasm will be like when I make you wait three weeks before cumming."

I could tell by the look on her face that she had every intention of discovering what my orgasm would be like after three weeks of denial. 

I'll admit that I'm curious too. I'll find out soon enough.