Absolute Commitments 3.9/5 (17)

One of the things that Jack and I discussed when the subject of cuckolding came up was ‘absolute commitments’. Nothing is completely absolute in cuckolding perhaps, the frisson is so often about desire and abandonment. But I reasoned too that it was also about commitment as well. If I was going to take a lover then I had to understand the remaining commitment to my husband. I had too get him through the transition.

Just as I learned to abandon myself to my instincts so he had to learn to be something less than masculine. You might laugh, but I told Jack that I did fancy the lifestyle, there was an absolutely dishy man at work, but before I (?we) decided to proceed, I thought that we should role play, imagine out what the life would be like. I don’t know what other readers think, but I’d suggest that this has merit. You get to encounter some emotions, perhaps not as raw as the real life living, but enough to help you cope should you proceed.

Jack insisted on just one absolute condition then as part of our rehearsal. I was to promise that I wouldn’t leave him.Whatever else I did to him (LOL) he couldn’t bare the thought of me dumping him. I could see how serious he was about that. The idea off me cuckolding him really excited him, but there was no doubt about his love. He needed me and feared abandonment. He pictured himself mentally ruined, living aimlessly on there street if I told him to fuck off.

I kissed him and said OK. We were playing with fire, but that was one use of heat that I would do my best to avoid, burning him entirely out of my life. ‘Now my absolute commitment’ I insisted, fairs fair! He waited blinking. ‘You will diligently and lovingly raise his child if he gets me pregnant’ I said. Oh wow! Light blue touch paper. Jack launched into a flood of objections. That should be ‘off the table’.

I had means of controlling that and they should be used! I snapped back, ‘I won’t have him wear sheaths and just in case you didn’t know Jack, even the pill is not 100% effective.’ My point was that if we did this, then I needed to know that his commitment to me, Estelle, and my wishes, as a mother, were absolute too! Jack calmed down. He understood that this was just as scary for me as abandonment was for him.

I didn’t want to be a single parent. It wasn’t necessarily true that the man who fucked me pregnant would want to raise a kid with me. I insisted that this was then part of our pact. Not only would Jack raise the little one but assure my lover that he would accept any mishap consequences of our love making.

We decided to rehearse the lifestyle, to try out how it seemed. I would flirt at parties, take some casual cock, and we would see how that felt. Before I ever got close to a relationship with Royce (yes, I mentioned the name of Mr ideal ebony 2019) we would see how it felt to admit another man, however casually, into our relationship. I suppose that I was testing Jack from the very off.

I have some nice and some sexy clothes, they make me feel confident, but when we were out shopping I demanded that Jack buy me some new things for ‘the games’. He bought me a pair of black leather hot pants and a skirt that barely covered my pubes. Both items were overtly provocative. Jack shelled out the required £300, it was a test of his wallet too. If I was to become his mistress, then it would cost him lots of money too!

We club on a Friday night so I dressed in the leather hot pants. I wore my pair of cavalier boots as well which made me look very available. It made me smile because Jack looked sick to the stomach. His face drained white! Men forget that their wives can be sexy don’t they! I did my nails, wore a goth choker about my throat and looked a proper little bitch in black. Honestly, my heart was racing.

I wondered what if this went too far. What if ‘they guy’ punched Jack to hell and took me off him? Fucking was a thrill, but I doubted whether I could always persuade a chancer to wear a sheath with me. Health warning, YOU should. If you fuck around, just do it, require the sheath. Anyway, we went down to the club and yes there was a guy who hit on me. He was suave, articulate, sober and clean looking. I twisted my watch beneath my wrist which was the sign for Jack to withdraw.

To my relief it worked so well. The guy (he was called Ben and he was a marine commando home on leave) was an utter gentleman. We danced, had a drink or two together, kissed and petted. Ben checked my expression carefully, judging whether he was allowed to press his ‘moves’. I loved the way that he kissed me. I loved it that he held the back of my head when we snogged. His tongue was lithe and agile inside my mouth.

When he ran his hand down to the crotch of my pants he waited for my nod before drawing down the exposed zipper, using the provocatively large ‘ring pull’ toggle. His fingers slide inside, explored and teased me and he kissed me softly as he petted me. It was very very horny. Afterwards, glancing in Jack’s direction to make sure he had not fucked off to throw him self off a bridge, Ben took me outside to a quiet courtyard.

It was purposefully low lit to help couples and he loosened my pants and edged them down. You can’t fuck easily face to face like that so Ben has to turn me around a take me from behind. Before he did so though he took out a sheath and asked me to roll it on his erection. It seemed all most gallant, that I was control of that, that he was being responsible too though. I could have asked him to fuck me bareback.

I wanted that, he had a quiet authority. Still, we did it the right way. I put my hands against the brick wall, Ben took my hair and pulled my head back and he thrust his cock inside my cunt, fucking me in the most muscular way until I grunted. ‘Just fucking take it Estelle’ he sneered as he pumped in side me. I climaxed on him. A shock, given the situation, I climaxed.

I took the used sheath home twisted closed, wrapped in a tissue and slipped inside my shoulder bag. It’s horrible to see used condoms left on the floor. That night Ben said he was ‘back on tour’ tomorrow returning to his unit and flying out in the evening. I kissed him eagerly. The sex, goodness, the sex had been fantastic. He saw my wedding ring and smiled. ‘You have him to heel?’ he asked and I smiled too.

‘Yes’ I admitted and it seemed such a powerful and sexy state to be in. ‘You fancy writing me…old fashioned I know, but out there you don’t get wifi or a phone signal’. I said yes, I wanted that if he wasn’t ashamed that I was a cuckoldress. He kissed me slowly. ‘Honest, no worries’ he admitted, ‘kinda like it that you have that power’.

When Jack and I got home we talked all night long. It was the best conversation that I had had with my husband in a decade. Me, Estelle, 34 getting fucked hard by a sexy young marine somewhere in his twenties. It made me up. Think of Royce I did, but the focus was definitely on Ben. I said that Ben was sweet, ultra masculine and that he made me feel very feminine. He was polite but fucked hard.

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