Promise

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Well that night we kissed and touched each other, and she pulled my plonker for all she was worth, but shied away in fright when I suggested she might suck it. That didn't mean that she fought too hard against me eating her out, and she groaned and squealed as I did some of my best work ever on her sweet, little, blonde pussy.

It was a night to remember as I introduced her to so many new experiences, and I delighted in bringing her to at least two orgasms ----- Her first ever.

But did I actually do the dirty deed? ------ NO!

Nor the next night either.

The third night, and we were playing around yet again.

"That doesn't feel like your finger sliding about down there," Cilla gasped out breathlessly.

"No sweetheart," I replied, trying desperately to keep my voice level, as I worked my hard cock up and down the warmth of her wet slit. "It's something a little bigger."

"Don't put it right in though will you Ken," Cilla reminded me. "You did promise."

"That was two nights ago Cilla," I pleaded with her. "We're a proper couple now."

"Oh go on then if you must," she relented huskily. "But not right the way in."

"Oh my God Ken .... Oh my God ...... Oh my ..... Ooooooh! "

She bleeding loved it!

She couldn't get enough of it, like a duck to water.

Poor Anne. She never did get her chance!

--------------

To cut a long story short a bit, Cilla agreed to marry me about ten months later, by which time we were shacked up together anyway.

Way to go!

Anne was to be her bridesmaid, and my pal Alf was primed to be my best man, on the basis that he could tell jokes better than any of my other close friends. Cilla's parents were tickled pink that their eldest daughter had found a man at last, and one that had already made some sort of mark on the world, and my parents had instantly fallen in love with their new daughter in law to be.

Important to note here that it wasn't just sex that was the attraction, and I wasn't making the same mistake as I had with my first marriage.

No --- Cilla and I already shared so many interests and we'd already tried out a few of each others with great success.

No!

I didn't become a regular at the church or anything, but I had gone along a few times, and even happily agreed to a church wedding.

Everyone was happy!

Everything was perfect!

Nothing could go wrong on that wonderful day.

As I said, we'd been living together for some time by then, but Cilla's Mum wanted us to take the traditional route and not see one another the night before the wedding.

So ---- Cilla packed her overnight bag and made to set off for Anne's where she would be sleeping, before the pair of them would go to her Mum and Dad's house the next morning to get all dolled up for the ceremony.

"Behave yourself honey," I joked with her, knowing that she was going out with Anne and a few friends for a few drinks that evening. Sort of a low-key hen party.

"What do you think I'm going to get up to you old fool?" my future bride teased me. "We're only going to the pub and not some male review bar."

"I picked you up in a pub don't forget Cilla," I laughed at her as I handed over her jacket. "There's a whole lot of other guys out there would be happy to chat up a pretty girl like you."

I expected her to laugh. Well, you know ---- laugh or make some funny comment back to me.

But she didn't!

No ---- She didn't!

"Well that's not going to happen anymore now is it Ken," Cilla said with an odd tone to her voice. "No more guys chatting me up from now on."

"You mean you want to be chatted up by other men Cilla?" I asked apprehensively, not liking where this conversation was heading too much.

"No! No of course not Ken," Cilla responded immediately. "It's just that ....... Well it's just ....... Oh I'm being silly Ken, just ignore me."

"You do want to marry me Cilla?" I demanded grabbing hold of her and pulling her to me. "You're not having second thoughts?"

"No of course not honey," she replied, smiling at me, and then reaching up to give me a little kiss. "I'm just being emotional and silly."

With that, Cilla laughed a little, picked up her overnight bag and made for the door.

"I'll see you at the church tomorrow Ken," she called back to me. "I love you."

---------------------

Panic over, I readied myself and popped down to the pub to have a sort of 'final' pint with my pals. I'd already had my stag night a few nights before, and remembering the state I'd found myself in after my first one before my previous marriage, I'd kept the whole thing toned down a bit.

The evening passed pleasantly enough, most of the chatter being about Arsenal's recent glorious victory over Chelsea, and how we were unlucky not to have scored a sixth goal, and how the two penalties the referee had somehow or other missed, the blind sod, could have made it eight.

By the time I'd sauntered back to our place, fairly late on, I'd forgotten all about the little contretemps with Cilla earlier, and was looking forward to a nice cup of tea and my bed.

Dring Dring ----- Dring Dring ----- Dring Dring.

The damn phone greeted me as I walked in the door.

"Hello, Ken Thompson."

"Thank God you're there at last," Anne greeted me with. "This is the third time I've rang."

"What's up Anne?" I demanded, at once concerned as to what had happened. "Is Cilla OK?"

"She's OK Ken, but you better get your ass over here as quickly as possible."

"Why? What's happened?" I cried out in alarm. "Has there been an accident?"

"No, not an accident," Anne replied. "But you need to come over and sort out Cilla if you still want to get married in the morning."

My stomach lurched!

'Sort out Cilla?'

What the hell had happened at her hen party for Christ's sake?

As you can imagine my mind targeted on the obvious. What the hell had she done and who with?

But Anne wasn't any more forthcoming, and insisted that I get my skates on and get over to her place, my brain working overtime as broke more speed limits than I should have done as I rushed the five miles to Anne's little flat.

"What's up? --- What's gone wrong? ----- Where's Cilla? ---- Is she OK? ---- She hasn't done anything silly has she?"

I bombarded Anne with questions from the moment she opened the door to me, only stopping when she thrust a cup of tea at me. Let's face it ---- Unless you're British, then it's difficult to explain the many faceted powers of a cup of tea.

"She's alright Ken I promise you," Anne conceded at last, once I'd settled down. "She's in my bedroom crying her eyes out."

"Oh God no," I mumbled, assuming the worst, wondering what guy she'd ended up with, and just what they'd got up to. "Be honest with me Anne, I beg you. How bad is it? What has Cilla done?"

"Not so much what she's done Ken," she replied quietly. "More a case of what she hasn't done!"

From my look it was obvious that I had no idea what she was on about.

"Ken," Anne started slowly, not knowing how to explain. "At the pub we were chatted up constantly by groups of guys from the moment we got there. Eight girls like us all done up to the nines, so I suppose it was reasonable for them to think that we were all out on the razzle."

"So what did Cilla do Anne?" I demanded. "Please just tell me. I'm sure I can forgive her."

"It wasn't her Ken," Anne carried on. "It was the rest of us. Well, all except June and Tina."

"June and Tina," I repeated, puzzled. "Why were they different?"

"They're married Ken and they don't mess around."

I looked at her blankly. This really wasn't making any sense.

"Ken," she said quite loudly as if I was being thick. "We were all flirting with these guys and having a good time, dancing and snogging for all we were worth."

"And Cilla?"

"No Cilla was just sitting there refusing offers to dance and everything."

"I still don't understand," I protested feebly.

"Oh you men are so stupid," went on Anne. "Can't you see ---- We were all having a great time flirting and carrying on and things. I let one guy feel me up on the dance floor right in front of them all for a laugh, and those two tarts Marcie and Judy went outside to the car park with a couple of them."

"I'm sorry Anne, but I'm still lost here."

"She was missing out on the fun Ken," Anne said with a frown. "Can't you see? Your virtually the first proper man she's ever been out with and it's suddenly occurred to her that she won't ever be able to discover what playing the field's about."

Oh Shit!

My mind went back to how troubled she'd been just before she'd left the house earlier. I put two and two together, got five, and felt myself on the point of being sick as I realised what Anne was saying could be true.

Oh Shit!

------------

We chatted a bit more, Anne filling me in on exactly what had happened and what Cilla had said. Eventually I found myself cautiously opening the door to the bedroom and peering nervously in.

"You OK Cilla?" I asked timorously at the untidy heap lying on the bed.

"What are you doing here Ken?" She half sobbed back. "Please go away."

"Not till we sort this out honey," I insisted.

"Nothing to sort out Ken," she mumbled. "I can't go through with it --- I'm so sorry."

"Maybe we ought to talk about it sweetheart."

"Nothing to talk about Ken," she replied. "I just can't go through with it."

I sat down on the bed and stroked her hair for some time, and I admit that the thought that I should simply get up and go and walk away from the problem did occur to me.

But not for long!

It was at that moment that I think I really realised quite how much Cilla meant to me became clear. How much I'd fallen in love with her, and how much I wanted to spend my life with her.

I sweet-talked her for ten minutes or so, when in a sudden rush she sat up and threw her arms round me, telling me how much she loved me.

"So what's the problem honey?" I demanded. "We love one another so let's get married."

"But ..... But ..... But ... "

"But what?" I laughed at her, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"But you're the only man I've ever been with Ken," Cilla sobbed unhappily. "What if .... Well ..... You know."

"Are you saying you want to go to bed with someone else Cilla?" I asked, unsure of my ground; not sure what she was thinking."

"No of course not silly," Cilla replied, trying to grin at me. "There is nobody else and never has been."

"So what's the problem honey?"

"What if there is one day? What if I need to find out what another man inside me feels like Ken? What then?"

What then indeed --- What then!

"Is that your only problem Cilla?" I asked her gently, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Yes Ken, but it's some problem isn't it?"

"Not at all Cilla," I replied confidently, a completely stupid idea forming in my somewhat beer befuddled head.

Cilla looked at me with a puzzled expression, almost breaking my heart with the innocent hope that shone from her eyes.

"I'll give you a get out of jail card as a wedding present," I told her, referring to the game of Monopoly that we frequently played. "One slip up with some other guy and I'll forgive you. How about that?"

"You don't mean it Ken," Cilla wimpered. "You couldn't."

"But I do sweetheart," I continued, maybe getting a bit carried away with the theatrics of the whole situation. The six pints of beer that I'd had earlier could have been involved there of course when I thought about it afterwards. "Once, just once honey and I promise to forgive you."

"But Ken ---- I mean ---- well....."

"Sweetheart," I interrupted her, cuddling her up close. "I intend to love you and adore you for the rest of lives, and keep you so happy in bed that you'll never be tempted, so it's no problem for me."

"Oh Ken ....."

"Oh Cilla ....."

I'm not sure where Anne slept that night, but it wasn't in that bed, and the following day Cilla and I were married as planned and became Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, her mother totally unaware that her daughter had spent half the night practicing for the honeymoon.

-----------------

So!

A good number of years passed and I can honestly say that our marriage was every bit as good as you could possibly imagine.

Two kids, one boy and one girl and two better little tykes you couldn't wish for.

In the first few years we occasionally referred to my promise when we had had a few drinks or felt a bit soppy, but it was always in good fun.

At least I had always thought it was!

But the subject hadn't been so much as mentioned for many a year, almost forgotten, virtually extinct.

Then that dance came up, and my nightmare rose it's ugly head.

Oh damn it!

God damn it!

What the fuck was I going to do?

--------------------------------------

"I think we'd better go home and discuss this like I suggested Ken," Cilla whispered, taking my arm and indeed taking control, guiding me over towards the exit. "I'm so sorry honey, but it's been building up inside me, and it just won't go away."

In a daze I allowed myself to be led out of the club and back over to our car.

I couldn't even drive and in any case Cilla gave me no option, sliding behind the wheel and turning on the ignition.

"It won't be so bad honey," she said to me, oh so gently. "We'll work it out between us and I promise everything will be OK."

I wasn't so sure, but I was concentrating so hard to keep my tears back that I couldn't manage an answer.

--------------

Back at our place, a somewhat more sumptuous pad than I'd had when we'd first met, we walked in, me still in a daze, and paid the babysitter off.

"Well Ken," my loving wife started. "Do you feel up to discussing this honey, or shall we leave it till tomorrow?"

"Will you have changed your mind by tomorrow Cilla?" I asked.

"No!" She replied firmly. "I'm sorry but my mind is made up."

"Then we better talk about it now then I suppose Cilla, but for Christ's sake, stop saying sorry all the time."

"OK Ken," Cilla replied calmly. "I'm sorry."

"For fuck sake stop saying sorry," I screamed at her. "I can't stand it."

"Yes I'm sorry Ken," Cilla flustered, looking at me with concern. "I'm sorry but I can't help it."

"Oh fuck this," I shouted, losing my temper at last. "I'm off to bed --- Do what you bloody well like!"

--------------

Well.

No solution there was there?

All I was doing was putting the awful moment of truth off.

Though Cilla had maintained that essential innocence that had first attracted me, equally I knew that she also had that strength of character that wouldn't stand browbeating.

I had no intention of just standing there and let her walk over me; letting her have her way without a fight.

But I had promised!

There'd been a lot of water under the bridge since then, but a promise was a promise.

My spirit plunged as I realised that my marriage was on a precipice. We had bought our children up to trust, honour and obey and all that stuff, and here I was at the crossroads, being asked by the person I loved the most in this world to honour a promise I had made to her.

Oh damn it. Oh bloody hell!

---------------------

The following morning was a Sunday, and though Cilla still often went to church, she chose not to on that day. I'd spent the night tossing and turning and at some stage my wife had got up, unable to sleep with my constant motion and had gone off to the spare bed.

I knew she needed her sleep as much as anyone, but it didn't exactly encourage me at all.

A full English breakfast was awaiting me when I eventually came down, and that was enough to tell me that her speech the previous evening had been planned. I only got this service on special occasions, and I guess letting me know that she was going to be unfaithful to me ranked as special even in Cilla's brain.

"Where are the kids?" I asked Cilla, noticing an unusual quiet about the place.

"They've gone off with Ted and Andrea for the day," Cilla told me. "They won't be back till early this evening."

I looked up at her, stared at her even, and she dropped her gaze, obviously deeply embarrassed.

"You've been planning this Cilla, haven't you?" I asked.

"Yes," she mumbled quietly. "I'm sorry ---- Sorry, I didn't mean to say sorry again. Oh Christ, I'm sorry Ken."

I gave her a dirty look and she went to open her mouth again to say something, but didn't, simply shrugged her shoulders, lost for words.

"Look Cilla, I know you're sorry and everything, but where do we go from here?"

"I haven't changed my mind though Ken," Cilla continued. "I meant what I said last night. It's something I've just got to do, but I do love you so much honey and I want to make it as easy for you as I can."

"And how the hell do you think you're going to make it easy for me to accept that my wife has been fucked by another man," I questioned her. "What are you going to do? Let me watch or something?"

"If you want to Ken," Cilla surprised me with. "I know some men get off on that sort of thing honey."

"WHAT?"

"It would depend on the guy of course, and I wouldn't want it to be the first time."

"Cilla!" I said firmly, raising my voice considerably. "I don't want you to make love to anyone else, and I can assure you that I certainly don't want to watch you doing it."

"Oh," she replied uncertainly. "I just thought you might want to."

"Well I don't Cilla," I all but screamed back at her. "The thought of it makes me sick."

"Some guys get off on the idea Ken," my wife carefully tried to encourage me. "I've read stories about it."

"Not me," I reminded her. "Are those stories you read where you got this silly idea from in the first place?"

"No Ken, honestly. It's been building up inside me for the last year or more, but I was reading those stories to see if I could find a way of making it easier for you."

We stared at one another for several moments, wondering where to take it from there.

"It might have been better if you'd just gone off and done it without even telling me Cilla," I broke the silence with. "At least that way I wouldn't have been any the wiser and wouldn't have had to go through this heartache."

"I couldn't have done that to you Ken," Cilla leapt back in with, reaching across to take my hand. "I couldn't just cheat on you."

"But what if I say no Cilla. What then?"

"Then I'll just have to cheat on you I suppose," she whimpered, squeezing my hand tightly. "Please Ken, if you love me, don't force me to do that."

"I'm not forcing you to do anything Cilla," I pointed out to her.

"Maybe not honey, but you did promise me, and our whole marriage was built on that promise."

I'd had enough --- any man would have had. The woman I loved was planning on making me a cuckold and knowing her as I did, I knew that I would be hard pushed to talk her out of it.

I could have tied her up, threatened her or done any number of things, but where would that get me I ask you?

I was fucked!

"Let me think about it for a few days please Cilla," I requested sombrely. "Just give me some time."

"OK honey," Cilla replied, a tear running down her cheek. "But please don't take too long about it will you."

-------------------

For the next week I tried the old ostrich act, and literally buried my head in the sand, trying to pretend that the problem might go away if I ignored it. Cilla moved gingerly around me being careful what she said. Several times she started to say something and broke off, and it didn't take much common sense to guess what was on her mind.

"I've spoken to someone Ken," my wife blurted out one morning at breakfast, before falling silent.

"Spoken to who?" I responded nervously, hoping she was talking about a plumber to fix the leaking tap or something ---- Anything but the obvious.

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