Abraham 3/5 (10)

What do the Chinese say, ‘be careful what you wish for, it may just come true’. Well, the Chinese are a sage like people. There are (from what I read) a good many torn up men who thought that they would like the cuckold life and then discovered that it is rougher than they imagined. Some of them get beaten, some get abandoned, some are humiliated beyond reasonable bounds, at least in my humbled opinion. But I want to contrast all that angst stuff with some good news.

There are bulls out there with the wisdom and the patience to make the life exquisite. I don’t just mean that they transform your mistress into a princess, someone whom you adore, I mean that they teach you to be the complete support. They teach you, firmly, consistently, that to be little is not necessarily less. They teach you about your sexuality, to live with what sometimes feels like a testosterone blight.

My wife’s bull is called Abraham. There is a bit of an age difference between them, he being 42 and she 25. I am in the middle I’m 31. If you pictured Abraham you would need to conjure up a rather muscular Uncle Remus. Her has big hands, very powerful legs, a tight torso, but his face is marked a bit, from the misadventures of youth.

Abraham did his time in gangs, he dealt with a knife or two and after a short spell in prison he came out and changed himself. In what I can only describe as a stupendous ten years he became a self made entrepreneur. Abraham married Ellie, another person wise beyond her years. You need to understand about Ellie, because she understands and supports his need to own a bitch and her husband.

What Abraham learned from his youth was that there was nothing sweeter than mastering a married woman and training her husband to comply. What Abraham learned from later years was that the satisfaction of that was achievable by mentoring the cuck, teaching him to serve. Abraham has shouted at me, he has locked me for some hours in the understairs cupboard. He has never had to beat me. He describes ‘our work’ as that of an orchestra. we each have to play our parts to make something beguiling, beautiful.

Cara my wife was seduced quietly. We were at a bar. I was in irritable mood, something shit at work I think. My wife had dressed attractively in a pair of leather hot pants (did you have the revival of those too?). At any rate, I was spoiling her evening out. Abraham just have watched me, listened to me a while because when he came over and sat beside us, he said, ‘can I get you a soda Stephen?’

First off I was astonished that he knew my name. He had been listening. Second, he wasn’t offering more alcohol, he was offering something long and cold, with loads of ice, to chill out with. Cara watched him. He was quiet, still, certain, almost serene I suppose. She listened as he explained that ‘sometime gone’ (a favourite phrase of his) he had read some zen. The trouble with life was that there was too much emotional noise.

To quietly contemplate things a while could help more than folk realised. At any rate, I found myself with a soda and ice, walking in the orchard garden of the bar with the promise that Cara and he would join me in thirty minutes. Cara seemed happy for me to go. She seemed very relaxed with him dismissing me. I guess she was exasperated by then. By the time that they did come into the garden Cara was smiling.

He had told her she had the most beautiful honey blonde hair, why a great tailor could make a woman (and a I guess a fine pair of hot pants), and why it was just so neat to walk bare foot in long grass. I remember, she kicked off her shoes and walked towards me feeling the moisture in the grass. He had put her back in touch with her senses.

Abraham didn’t come on to Cara, there was nothing rushed and nothing forced. Instead he made it so easy for her to give herself to him. Abraham had a centre inside him that didn’t whirl about. He had a soul that lounged out like a cat on a warm roof.

He was balloo the bear but without any of the oafing around. I remember that we talked about his life which he described quietly, thoughtfully and then we went out on a couple of evenings, ate a few meals and played some pétanque which he was extraordinarily good at. He told us about Ellie, the love of his life and that lulled me into a repose. He was, in my view, the most handsome black dude that I had ever seen.

He wondered did we swim. and if so had we tried wild swimming? There was this river, up amongst the hills where the water was crisp cold? Cara loves swimming, whilst I get anxious. I’m not a strong swimmer. But we went, we went and Cara wore a new bikini that showed off her breasts perfectly. I was in charge of the picnic whilst they swam, the sun glinting down on the water as it was joyously splashed into the air.

I remember watching him holding her in the water, like she was a nymph climbing up his muscular reed. He kissed her on the forehead and she laughed. I knew that he was going to fuck her and honestly, quite honestly, I knew that would be the most perfect thing in the world. I scribbled a note and left it on the picnic cloth. ‘Off downstream for thirty minutes, to capture the biggest minnow in the world’ I wrote. Thirty minutes you see.

Abraham fucked her and after he had done, squirting and squirting inside her, flesh on flesh, bareback, they lay naked down below, in the grass looking up at the sun. I heard later that Cara had fretted and suggested pulling on her bikini bottoms. May be Abraham wanted to don his trunks again, his cock was still erect and proud? He gently held her hand and wouldn’t let her. I would be ‘fine’, I would be pretty ‘astonishing and very very kind’.

I came up from the river bank, my minnow in a jar and saw from a distance that Cara was almost naked,. I saw his handsome manhood, drying in the sun. Like a kid I raised my capture for them to see. The silliness of it seemed to take the barb out of the moment. ‘You joining us Steve, going to do some country living stuff?’ Cara lay back when I said yes. Her heart was racing, but she felt blissful.

Abraham unclipped her bikini top and barred her nipples. He ran a wet finger around and around her areoles and said this was the way to use my tongue on them. I started to lick them. Cara didn’t giggle, she said later that it didn’t tickle. The licking was sensuous. Her nipples hardened. ‘May be this way’ suggested Abraham his base voice harmonising with the lazy hum of bees as they explored the Bankside flowers.

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