My name is John, though I go by rgjohn, and I’ve written a few erotic books and some content for Literotica. When Emma read my work, she suggested I write about loving, female-led relationships—a genre she’s passionate about. It’s been a while since I’ve written, but a fan recently reignited my interest by asking me to turn his detailed journal into a story. Initially skeptical, I found myself captivated by his account of a Female-Led Relationship (FLR), a concept I hadn’t explored before. With a mix of curiosity and research, I’ve decided to craft a multi-part story spanning many chapters. If you are just starting, you should begin your journey back at chapter 1.
Carefully, I lifted her legs onto the bed, adjusting her until she lay comfortably. Her blouse hung open, exposing her bare breasts, the skin still flushed from her night of passion... and those ever present hickies that would be there for days. Her nipples were hard and swollen, and my eyes drifted again to one dark hickie on her neck... too high to hide.
I stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of her. She looked utterly content, her body relaxed and glowing. She was a well fucked... no, a ravaged woman. A part of me felt an overwhelming sense of pride that I could help her achieve this level of happiness, even if it meant surrendering my own desires... and my wife to another man.
Quietly, I gently took off her blouse, setting it aside. She moaned in her sleep as I pulled her skirt off, realizing that there were cum stains on the inside and that it would need laundering.
I turned off the lights and climbed into bed next to her, hoping she wouldn’t mind me sleeping with her, my cage still throbbing with unfulfilled arousal. I placed a soft kiss in the nape of her neck on top of one of the hickies. It was my weak attempt to reclaim her... she was still my wife after all.
As I lay there listening to her steady breathing, I realized that this was only the beginning. This would be an every Friday night ritual... if not more often. I felt an incredible angst come over me. I suppose all cuckolds feel like this the first time their wife takes a lover... yet it was foreign to me. I knew I had to deal with it, it was my new reality. I finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep.…
