Charlie and Megan Wilson

"Wait, wait, the men you do at the Chateau, they want their wives there?" I said.

"Yes, they're mostly wannabe cuckolds. It's a kick to role play with them. And over the last couple of years I've learned to like watching them squirm in their make believe situations. So much so, that, on occasion, not often, I've developed relationships with this or that man, and, well, cuckolded him.

"Problem is that in my situation the man never realizes till after the fact, what he's become, and what he is to me. And, so, one hundred percent of the time, they shine me on and leave. Usually it's not real pretty. Lots of name calling, lots of angst, jealousy, ire: well, I'm sure a man as intelligent as you can figure it out," she said. I stared at her, hard.

"Let me guess. You want me to be one of your toys. But, in my case, I'd know about it up front. That about it?" I said.

"No," she said.

"No? Then what?" I said. She settled back in her seat. She smiled at me. She watched me. She was clearly appraising my ability to accept whatever it was that she was about to lay on me.

"What would you say to a proposal of marriage?" she said. I could actually feel my brow knitting.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I want to marry you," she said. "I've thought about it, and, I think that we could both get what we want and need out of life. And, before you ask, yes, it will be a real marriage, and I would treat you very well."

"Marriage? You want to marry me? You'd treat me good? A real marriage? We've been on one date. I've talked to you but one other time besides that one date." I said. I could feel my face flush. I was tingly all over. Oh, and yes, my cock was rock hard. "And you want to marry me."

"Yes to all of the above," she said.

"Huh?" Yes?" I really was too stunned, too confused to react in any meaningful way to what she had just said.

"Charlie, I know you need a little time to think things over. How about we meet here tomorrow and you can give me your answer," she said. "Same time okay?" I think I was nodding. She rose, came around and kissed me, patted me on the head, and left. It was surreal.

******

Again, I was early. I guess that had to indicate where my head was at, and don't say the obvious. This time she was on time, right on time.

"Hi," I said. She smiled.

"How we doing?" she said, as she took the seat closest to me.

"Okay. I did do what you suggested. I did think over, your proposal."

"And?" she said. I got up, came around the table, and got down on my knees.

"Megan Troyes, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" I said. She knitted her brow.

"Yes, Charlie, I will. But..."

"But?" I said. "You asked me..."

"You do understand what our respective roles will be, right?" she said. I swallowed.

"I think so. I mean knowing what we know; I mean about each other's tastes," I said. "I mean, you'd be the boss, so to speak."

"Okay," she said. "Sort of. You'll still be the head of the household in most ways. But, Charlie, You will be, or rather will become—well—my cuckold. You do realize that, right? You really need to realize that."

I was quiet for a full minute. "Yes, ma'am, I understand. I'm a little bit worried about what something like that might mean for me, but I guess, I will just have to take a chance," I said.

"I can understand your concern, and we'll talk again. And, Charlie, I think it would be good for you to have another, I mean really private talk with Daryl. Would you be okay with that?" she said.

"Sure, yes, I guess so," I said. She smiled sweetly at me.

"Good," she said. "Charlie, I think we need to go out on a date tomorrow. I mean we are engaged. I think you need to get to know some of what it is that you're actually going to be getting—hmm—at least on rare occasions." she said, and then she laughed out loud. She sounded as giddy as I was feeling.

******

I picked her up at seven. She was flat gorgeous: long tawny locks, perfect makeup, a black sheath with a plunging neckline that ended two inches above the knee. Heels that had to have been five-inchers at least. I was shorter than she was to begin, but with those heels on she was way taller than me. Her only jewels were a string of what had to be real pearls, not even any earrings otherwise. Fuck she was a class act. If I was going to be a cuckold, it was sure as hell her that I wanted to be doing it to me.

We headed for the Lucky Star.

"Nice place," I said. "How did you find it; I mean it's so out of the way."

"Recommended to me, by one of—well—one of my former clients. It's only the second time I've been in here, and the first was over a year ago," she said.

"Well, I like it," I said. We were shown our seats and even before the waitress and the water arrived the band started playing and we got up to dance. We danced twice. Both slow, and she melded herself against me. My peter was pressed into her leg, and I got one of those smiles that told me that she knew she had me.

"It's pretty clear that you like me," she said, as we floated around the dance floor.

"Guilty," I said. "Can't deny it."

"No, that wouldn't be too useful given the evidence."

Returning to the table the menus were already lying there, and not ten seconds, after being seated, the waitress was there too taking our orders. We ordered drinks, and while we were waiting for them to arrive, we perused the menus. The rest of the early evening was spent drinking eating and dancing.

Twice after we had finished eating other gentlemen brazened themselves up enough to come and ask her dance. Both times she rose to go out on the floor with them. What was disconcerting was, not that she danced with them, but that she did it without so much as a glance in my direction let alone asking for my okay.

I bit my lip. I mean I was going to complain if she decided to dance with other men? I mean knowing in advance that I would soon be a knowing cuckold? I had to think that this, her dancing with other men, was the first phase of my training. I was soon confirmed in my suspicion when she returned after having danced with the second of the two interlopers.

"Not too upset with me?" she said as she took a sip of her wine. I slowly shook my head. I mean what else was I going to do.

"No, no, you're the boss," I said, "though I have to admit to being a tiny bit jealous." She continued to hold her stem glass in front of her while tendering me an amused smile.

"That's good," she said. "You're allowed to be jealous, just not obviously so. But, that was just a little testing of the waters. I am yours for the rest of the night, no more dancing with strangers. That said, take me out there and let's show these other people how to fox trot. Okay?" She was already rising to go out on the floor. To my credit, I was only a nano-second behind her.

We arrived back at her place a little after eleven. "You're staying here tonight, honey bunch. It's Friday; you don't have class tomorrow. Do you?" she said. I smiled. I was pretty sure that it was going to be a really good night.

"No, no classes for me on Saturday. A few profs do, but not me, not this term," I said. "Actually you can have me any Friday or Saturday night that you wish."

"Goody! We're going to have a lot of fun," she said. She stood back and looked me in the eye.

"Take off your clothes. I want to see you au natural," she said. She made no move to undress herself. I hesitated, but began undoing my belt. Soon my pants were pooled at my feet. I began unbuttoning my shirt. She stopped me.

"No, your underpants first," she said. "I think it's kind of erotic seeing a man standing with his bottom half exposed and naked while his shirt is still on.

I said nothing, but I pushed my Hanes south and stood in front of her. My cock was pointing straight at her and she looked at it appraisingly.

"Hmm, not exactly tiny, not large, but not tiny. I'll at least be able to feel you inside of me," she said. I could feel my face flush. "Take off the rest now." I did, and I stood naked and vulnerable in front of her.

She crooked a finger at me, turned, and headed for the back of the apartment. I followed like nothing so much as her pet.

As I entered her room, she was already kicking off her heels. Unhitching her skirt, it fell to the floor. Soon her snatch and her breasts were bare and her nakedness actually made my cock hurt.

"Well, don't just stand there staring, bub, get over her and take me," she said. I didn't have to be told twice. She crawled up on the bed and turned toward me. "Charlie, in almost everything I will, as you said before, be the boss in our relationship. It's what you want and need, and it's what I want and need as well. But, when it comes to doing me, like now, you are the master. You have to master me, and make me yours. It's nature, Charlie, so do me up good. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled at my use of the term ma'am."

Up on the bed, she spread her knees and pushed her butt back at me daring me to take her. I was so ready. I knelt between her legs and rubbed the tip of my penis up and down her labia; she was already becoming slick with her own juices. I pressed four inches of fairly thick rock hard flesh inside of her and slowly began seesawing in and out. She mooed.

"Pork me, Charlie. Don't try and be nice to me; sock it to me—hard!" I followed her command. Soon I was banging her so hard that I was actually hurting myself. But, all she did was push back into me trying, I suspect, to get me deeper inside of her. I didn't have the length, but what I did have was enthusiasm and something, what, rage! I wanted to satisfy her in the worst way. I'd never wanted anything so badly in my life. I needed her to like, no, love doing it with me. I had to get her off, somehow! I felt her stiffen; she'd made it! I knew it. She'd made it. I gushed inside of her painting the walls of her vagina with what I thought a sea of cum. I began to shrink from her. I fell forward onto her back trying to catch my breath.

I rolled off of her, and lay exhausted on the coverlet. She lay face down. Her breathing was almost regular. We stayed quiet, lost in our own thoughts for a long moment.

"That was good, Charlie. I almost made it. Just a little more, and I would have been over the top," she said. Her words deflated me. I was sure she'd made it, but I'd been wrong, maybe half a minute short of long enough. I wanted to cry. I'd given it everything I'd had, and I couldn't do it for her. She sensed my disappointment. She rolled onto her side and looked at me.

"You did fine, Charlie. I'm going to see to your training so that, when I let you, you can do me good. Okay?" she said. I looked her askance.

"Huh?" I said.

"Your training, I'm..."

"No, no, I mean the other thing you said. You know, 'when you'd let me'," I said. She frowned.

"Charlie, once you are a cuckold, you will only get off on rare occasions and be able to fuck me even less. It is the lot of the cuckold, I'm afraid," she said. "Charlie, it's the way it has to be. I thought you knew that. But, if you can't do it, maybe now is the time to find out. I mean before we're married. No pressure, Charlie, but you need to know your place." I knew she was right. I had known that, but hearing it made a deal of difference.

"How about before we're married," I said. Now, she smiled.

"You can have me as much as you want, Charlie, until I cuckold you. From now on until, well, until after our honeymoon at least. Okay?" she said. "I expect to be very well fucked in these next couple of months. Think you can accommodate me?" she said.

I was breathing hard, but not from exhaustion, from excitement. "Watch me," I said. I flipped her over on her back and took her rudely, animal-like. She howled, but she was smiling broadly while she did it.

******

"I hear you weren't half bad," said Daryl Radcliff. I shrugged.

"She said I didn't get her off. I guess, I really am not all that," I said. He laughed. I frowned; he didn't have to laugh at me.

He apparently realized he'd stung me a little. "Well, you'll be encouraged to know that I don't get her off every time either," he said. "I mean not with my dick, maybe half the time if I'm lucky. But, I never let her down. My mouth finishes the job for me when I come up a little short," he said.

"Yeah, well whatever," I said. "So what's going on? She said, no encouraged me, to talk to you."

"Yes, I'm aware. She wanted me to kinda give you a pep talk: You know a little perspective of what life might be like for you after you guys get hitched," he said.

"I already know all of that. Sex rarely, humiliation standard: that about it," I said.

"Hmm, kinda yes and kinda no," he said.

"Huh?"

"You'll more than likely have more than enough sex: the tantalizing variety if you get my drift. You'll just not be getting a lot of time inside of her with your cock. As for the humiliation thing That'll depend. There'll be some of that depending on how you react to being seen by others—the bulls. If what they say and do doesn't bother you all that much, then you won't actually experience all that much humiliation. What you will feel, and this is the point at least to some degree of the whole cuckold scene, is jealousy. You will be all but eaten alive by jealousy. And, that, my friend, is what she, our Megan, gets off on. She will do her level best to drive you to but one very short inch from insanity and laugh at you while you squirm and cry and beg for some small show of favor. It's what drove her other relationships into the ground.

"I will say, that I think she intends to do things a little differently with you. And, I don't think she even knows herself how she's going to work things out with you. But, I do know that she wants it to be a permanent thing. She does not want or need any more of what she's so far had, and she will do whatever she needs to, to ensure that such does not become the case."

"I've never been all that much into the cuckolding thing. Truth is, I've had almost no experience in it at all. I've mostly..." I started.

"Yes, I know, been into the discipline stuff," he said. " For her part Megan hasn't been much into that except at the request of her cucks. Really, she has never to my knowledge shown much personal interest in it at all. You'll get your bottom toasted pretty good, I'm sure, somewhere along the line; but a full blown lifestyle is likely not in the cards."

I nodded. "I see," I said. "It is kinda what she's said to me in so many words." His turn to nod.

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you've got a heck of a good thing going on a number of levels," he said. "Just don't let her drive you completely over the top. She's a wonderful woman and a superior piece of ass, but she's still capable of doing things wrong, going too far: well, you get the picture. She won't mean to, but it will happen probably more than once. When it does, just back off and go make yourself a stiff drink and wait for her to be regretful; that'll actually be a good thing for you if what I know about her holds true."

"How so?" I said.

"You'll get to fuck her. It's how she pays for her little mistakes without taking any particular responsibility for them. Women, most women, and our woman in particular, are not big on apologies. But, she and they are big on making it up to us poor suffering males," he said. I smiled.

"Okay," I said. "I get it."

******

The canopy protected us from the dazzling brightness of the sun. The lay minister held a book, no not that book, but one that she, the reverend Sheila Brooks, read from.

"And do you Charles take for your wife Megan, to love, honor, and obey as long as you both shall live," she said.

"I do," I said.

"And do you Megan, take Charles for your husband to love, honor, and guide as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she said.

"Then by the power invested in me by the state, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss each other."

And just like that I, we, were married and committed to each other. The minister, Sheila, was a close friend of Megan's. She congratulated us, and we all, including the best man, Daryl, and the maid of honor, Marissa, led the way to the reception room where the thirty-nine guests and ourselves were to celebrate.

The party lasted into the evening. There was dancing and good food and lots of joking around. Sheila pulled me off to the side for a brief word.

"Charlie, the woman truly loves you. You need to get your head around that and never doubt it. You do that, and the two of you will be fine," said Sheila.

"Thanks, Sheila, I appreciate your concern and your support. I think we'll be fine. I don't anticipate any problems," I said.

"Yes, and there needn't be any," she said. "The only possible fly in the ointment might be Megan's penchant for sometimes choosing poorly when selecting, well, you know. Remember you didn't marry any of her future bulls. You married Megan. If you keep that in mind, and remember that those men, all of them, are merely a collection of blips on the radar screen of life; well, then, you'll be fine."

"Okay, and thanks again. I do appreciate your words," I said.

The next two weeks were wonderful. The warm Mexican sun was fantastic. Sun and sand, and Megan in a bikini; god she was beautiful. And we fucked. We fucked a hundred times, or so it seemed. And then it was the last day, and I was scared. I felt like doctor Faustus at the end of his twenty year deal with the devil. She understood and tried to console me; she was only partially successful.

"It's your fate, Charlie. You have to man up now and accept your fate. And, not to worry, you will still be my husband and no other. I will still love only you and no other, and those are absolutes. But, that said, now it's my turn to get what I need out of our life together. It's the reason I wanted to marry you, Charlie, because I knew you could loved me enough to give me what I need. Anyway, enough said about that.

"Our wedding vows are now going to be our contract with each other. We will both love and honor each other. But, you will now have to be obeying me and I will have to be guiding you. Okay, my man?" she said.

I slowly nodded my submission to her. She smiled benevolently at me. I just had to hope it wouldn't be too long before I would be able to have her again. I needed her. I needed her bad. There was not the slightest shadow of a doubt that I always would.

******

"Tonight's the night, Charlie?" she said. I didn't have to ask her what she meant. I just nodded.

"I need to have you out of the house by 6:00PM. Okay?" she said.

"Okay. But, don't you—didn't you..." I started.

"Not this first time, Charlie. You will be here to watch and witness your cuckolding a lot, but this first time I need to be able to set things up with my bull. I will say that you'll get a full report in the morning—and—well a little something extra to eat if you get my drift, Charlie," she said.

"Okay," I said. I was actually looking forward to the next morning. "So, am I supposed to stay away all night?"

"Yes. Will that be okay? I mean this is your, our, home. I won't order you to not sleep in your own bed; but it would be more convenient overall if you came back say for breakfast. Would that be all right. Oh, and one more thing. No bull will ever sleep in our bed. We will be using the guest room only."

"Okay. It's okay, I'll just get a room for the night. And, yes, I will be back for breakfast. Can I ask? Will he still be here when I get home?" I said.

"Probably not. He has to work. But, if he is, just be polite and forget that anything happened. He will be getting the same instructions. I know this is going to be hard for you in the beginning. I intend to soften the experience as much as I can. That's why I am asking you to not be there the first time; it's best. So anyway..."