Cuckquean Lifestyle

Cuckquean? I've never heard that term before. I'd better Google it.

You move your mouse and click and hold over the text, intending to copy and paste it into your search bar. But instead of allowing you to highlight the text, it just selects the option.

Oh no.

You read the instructions.

Oh no no no no no. No no no. No. Back back back!

But the website won't let you take back your choice.

You won't do it. You'll tell Cassie everything, and call it quits. You stand confidently, having made your decision.

No, wait! She might just say no. Then we get away with it. And if she says yes, then I still have the power to stop everything myself. Logically, I have to offer her the chance to say no.

"Cassie."

"John". She mocks your serious tone.

"I really enjoyed last night."

"I know." She boasts happily. "And I bet you want more."

You try to ignore her jolly interjections and continue with your recital. You don't want to mess this part up and be 'disqualified' for not making the request properly when she says no.

"But also a few things became clear to me last night. Firstly, it's true. You aren't as experienced as other women. Secondly, some things just clearly aren't for you. Deepthroating, obviously, but also things like licking my ass. You don't enjoy it. You're just doing it for me."

"That's... mostly accurate." Cassie is **** to admit.

"So my proposal is, why not leave us to it. Just me and another woman, with you either watching, or not even in the room. A bit like Sandra and her husband, but the other way round. Then I get the... the 'A+ sex' that you want me to have, and you don't have to lift a finger."

Please don't say yes! Just tell me to fuck off.

"Okay."

"What?!"

"I said okay. I can't fault your logic. Is this what you want? Will that be better for you?"

"Well... lots of people do it as a fetish thing. It's called cuckqueaning. You'd essentially just be following my orders like any other submissive, even if that order is to do nothing."

"So it's just a sex thing." Cassie sounds relieved.

"...Yes, it's just a sex thing."

"All I care about is marrying the man I love, and that man having the most fulfilling sex life he can have. If this is what you need, and you still come home to me afterwards, I give you permission to do whatever the hell you want."

This is it. This is my moment where I have to stop everything. This has gone too far, right?

Or, should I do just do it? Just go and pursue some empty and meaningless sexual encounters, and then in five months we'll be done with all this charade and I can finally have sex with the woman I love. And save everyone's jobs in the meantime...