Promises Were Made

Author's Introduction: This year, Richard and I will have been married for 32 years, which means that I will have been a Hot Wife for the best part of 30 years. What follows is a true (as far as my memory holds out!) account of how we arrived at the decision to adopt this lifestyle that we both live and love 24/7.

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I first met Richard during my second year at University. He was in his third year, but as his was a four-year course, whilst mine was three years long, it meant that we would graduate at the same time.

My degree is in Welsh and Music (I'm a clever bitch - I did joint honours!) whilst Richard's degree in in civil engineering. We were, therefore, in different departments of the University. But fate decreed that our departments shared the same day for their graduation ceremonies. I graduated in the morning; Richard in the afternoon. This meant that our respective parents could meet, be introduced and told of the fact that Richard and I were now officially 'an item.'

Almost immediately after graduating, both Richard and I found employment. The local council were looking for graduate civil engineers, and took Richard on, at a probationary level. I found a job as an assistant classroom teacher and I had to do a probationary year of teaching. We both continued to live at home with our respective parents, but we dated regularly, and when we both had completed our probationary year, Richard asked me to marry him. I accepted without a second's hesitation, and we started saving to buy our first house. Our parents were delighted, and my mam and Richard's mother, Jessie, began meeting regularly, to sort out those things that 'Mother-of-the-bride' and 'Mother-of-the groom' seem to think are essential for the perfect wedding that they (and we) hoped for.

One thing I must point out here, and given how our lives have panned out, it is incredibly ironic. During our engagement, Richard and I went out together and sometimes in a small group. We did most of the things that engaged couples do. We flirted with each other, we kissed, and, as time went on, Richard would fondle my boobs (that's what I called them in those days!) and I would hold his cock (through his trousers!) whilst he was fondling. We never saw each other naked, and we certainly didn't entertain the idea of 'making love' before we were married. I had been brought up in the Roman faith (to which I still adhere today), whilst Richard's family were all chapel. We were both taught (with varying degrees of severity!) about the sin of fornication, and we both avoided the temptation like the plague. As I said, isn't life beautifully ironic?

So that bit is out of the way, let's fast forward a bit to the day of the wedding.

"Now that Richard and Olwen have publicly declared their vows, and sealed them with the giving and exchanging of rings, I pronounce that they are man and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

Father Matthew made the sign of the Cross above us both and looked at Richard with a smile.

"You may kiss your bride," he said, and Richard put his lips to mine and we kissed for the first time as man and wife. I was so happy!

It was a glorious day in every sense of the word. The sun shone, the wedding breakfast food was excellent, our family and friends all seemed to be having as good a time as Richard and me. There was an evening reception for those friends who couldn't come to the actual ceremony, and then, as some people began to lose most of their inhibitions, it was time for Richard and I to take our leave.

We were booked into an hotel for the night, and in the morning, we would catch a ferry to France, where we would spend our honeymoon. Before we left, we had a last dance together with our friends. Half way through, my mam cut in, and Richard made to leave us alone to talk. Then she went to speak to him.

As Richard drove us to the hotel, I asked him what mam had said to him.

"She told me that she loved us both, and asked me to take care of you," he said, and I realised that he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm the luckiest bloke in the world," he said, and a big fat tear rolled down his cheek.

"If that's so, then I must be the luckiest girl in the world," I replied, and I meant every word.

Richard asked me what mam had said to me. I blushingly told him that she had been quite embarrassed, but she'd carried on despite this, and explained to me what to expect later on.

Richard grinned and I giggled.

"Can't you drive a bit faster?" I asked. "The anticipation is killing me!"

We were, of course, expected at the hotel, and when we got to our room, we both were extremely nervous. We had left our honeymoon luggage in the boot of the car, so we went in with only a small overnight bag between us. Wordlessly, we sat back-to-back on either side of the bed, and undressed. I had packed a new nighty for the evening, but I felt rather than saw Richard get into bed, and his pyjamas were still in the overnight bag, so I reasoned that he was going to sleep naked. I decided to follow suite, and I slid in beside my husband.

"This is nice," I whispered as we both turned to face one another.

"Hello, Mrs. Simpson," Richard grinned, "may I kiss you?"

"Yes please, Mr. Simpson," I replied, "and tonight, please don't stop at kissing!"

He didn't, of course, and my memory of that first ever fuck remains with me to this day, albeit it has become somewhat hazy. I remember a sharp pain as he entered me and a warm, wet sensation a few minutes later. Then I felt Richard slip out of me, and we kissed and cuddled for ages before we both fell asleep in one another's arms.

I remember thinking what mam had warned me about, and I dismissed it sleepily. It hadn't hurt too badly, and it was over almost as soon as it had begun. I was going to be able to cope with what mam termed 'wifely duty' quite easily, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

I was woken in the morning by a very strange sensation. As I struggled into wakefulness, I realised that Richard was underneath the bed clothes. He was kissing me. Between my legs! I put my hand on his head and murmured, "Good morning, darling!"

He emerged from below the covers, red faced but smiling.

"Good morning," he replied. "Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes I did," I replied truthfully. "I'm a bit sore down there after last night. Your tongue felt lovely and soft."

"I so want to kiss you," Richard said, "but let me go and brush my teeth first. I still taste of you."

I don't know what made me act so impulsively, but I pulled him towards me and kissed him full on the mouth. Bearing in mind that over the years I've sucked dozens of cocks that have been inside me, this was the first time I'd ever tasted myself. I didn't mind the taste, because I loved feeling Richard's lips on mine.

"Do you want to go in the shower first?" Richard asked after we'd finished kissing.

"No," I replied mischievously, "I want to go in the shower with you!"

We did just that, kissing and cuddling, and soaping each other all over. When I washed Richard's cock, it sprang into life and got very hard. A few minutes later, he groaned and for the first time in my life I saw a man cum.

He apologised, and he washed his cock off whilst I swilled my hand under the lovely warm water that we were sharing.

Eventually, we dressed and went down for breakfast. There were about four or five couples already in the dining room, and as we entered they all applauded us. It was very sweet, if awfully embarrassing.

After breakfast, we returned to our room, packed our bag and set off in the car on our honeymoon.

During that fortnight in France, Richard and I did it at least once every day. I was getting used to having his cock in me, and I loved the way he would wake me every morning with his head between my legs. Just before we were due to come home, we had a very expensive meal at a Michelin starred restaurant, and we both had rather a lot to drink.

Thus it was that I woke first the next morning. Richard was still flat out beside me. An idea popped into my head, and I slipped under the cotton sheet that was the only covering we needed, for the nights were warm and sultry.

I took Richard's floppy cock in my hand and popped it in my mouth. I felt so daring! To my delight, he began to get hard almost immediately, and I began to lick and suck, just as my darling husband awoke with a groan.

"What are you doing?" he murmured sleepily, then, "oh, Olwen! That's lovely! Don't stop please!"

I had no intention of stopping, and I began to bob my head up and down his cock shaft. In no time at all, I felt the smooth, velvet like head swell and he spurted in my mouth.

It was warm, thick and slightly salty. Not an unpleasant taste, and I managed to swallow most of it. A few drops did dribble down my chin, but I wiped them away quickly, and emerged from under the bed clothes triumphant.

Richard looked at me lovingly.

"I really enjoyed that," he said. "Thank you. But I won't be able to put it in you now. Look, it's all soft and floppy!"

"Never mind," I reassured him. "You can put it in me tonight. It's our last night of honeymoon. We're going home tomorrow, and we'll be going home to our own house. I can't wait to start living with you properly!"

Our honeymoon over, we returned home to begin our married life together. We both loved our jobs, and we worked hard. Combining work and pleasure was difficult, we both had very responsible occupations. It meant that we quickly got into the pattern of keeping Friday night for ourselves. We'd prepare and cook supper between us, and then go to bed early for lots of kissing, cuddling and love making.

On Saturdays we'd do the next week's shopping in the morning, and either go for a walk, or a drive in the car, if the weather wasn't too good. I continued to attend Mass on Sunday mornings, although Richard got out of the habit of going to chapel pretty soon after we moved into our house. Sunday afternoons were sacrosanct: I'd use the time to do my classroom planning for the forthcoming week. Richard usually prepared and cooked Sunday dinner.

And that was us for just about the first two years of our married life. Then something occurred that was to fundamentally change both Richard and me, and alter our lifestyle dramatically. This is what happened.

We were invited to a party to celebrate Richard's father's cousin's Golden Wedding. The only time I'd ever met Janet and her husband Eric was at our wedding, and they both seemed very nice people. We agreed that we would go and help them celebrate. It meant a drive of about three hours, so we booked a room in the hotel where the party was being held. Most of the guests were strangers to us, being either family or friends of Janet or Eric. Richard introduced me to those people that he knew, including a larger-than- life character whom he called Aunty Alice.

She was already well oiled by about eight o'clock and when we managed to escape from her rather risqué stories, I asked Richard who the hell she was.

"She's another of dad's cousins," he said, blushing furiously. "She's the black sheep of the family. She's been divorced twice, and now she's living with another woman, who, it seems, is young enough to be her daughter!"

"Your Aunty Alice is a lesbian?" I asked, and Richard nodded. "Look out," he muttered, "she's coming this way again!"

I smiled what I thought was a welcoming smile as Aunty Alice wobbled rather unsteadily towards us. She winked at Richard, and slurred something like, "Piss off to the bar, Rich., and get me a large brandy, and whatever your gorgeous wife here is drinking. I'm taking her for a girly chat. Don't look like that! I'm not going to try and fuck her! We're just going to get to know one another, that's all."

I was as shocked at hearing the word 'fuck' as I was that Richard did as he'd been told without a word of protest. As he slunk away, I felt myself being dragged to a table in the corner of the room, well away from the dance floor, and the bar. We sat down, and Aunty Alice leered at me.

"You're a gorgeous little thing, aren't you?" she said, breathing brandy-soaked fumes in my face. I think that I must have blushed at these words, because Aunty Alice hooted with laughter.

"The quiet ones are the worst " she continued, winking at me. "How long have you two been married now?"

"Two years," I said proudly. "We celebrated our wedding anniversary a fortnight ago."

Richard came back with our drinks on a tray. As well as Aunty Alice's brandy, there was a glass of white wine for me and a pint of beer for my lovely husband. Richard doesn't drink to excess, but he does enjoy a pint of bitter.

Aunty Alice took her drink and raised her glass in a toast.

"Cheers!" she slurred. "Here's to the happy heterosexual couple. Unlike little old me, I bet you two will be fucking like bunny rabbits all night long! My girlfriend's a nurse, and the stupid bitch is on nights this week. So it's a good job I packed my vibrator, isn't it?"

Both of our faces must have been a picture, because Aunty Alice looked a bit abashed and fumbled in her voluminous handbag. She brought out what turned out to be a cigar case, a stubby cigar holder and a lighter.

She eventually managed to get a cigar into the holder, which she slipped into her mouth. She slid the lighter across the table to Richard.

"Light me up, Rich.," she instructed. "I was going to suggest a threesome, but my last statement went down like a cup of cold sick, so I don't think I'm going to get to see your wife's tits and cunt after all!"

Richard sparked up the lighter, and with a trembling hand, he lit the cigar. Aunty Alice puffed away for a few moments, then got to her feet unsteadily.

"I'll leave you two lovers in peace," she grinned. She blew me a kiss and winked at me.

"I'm sure Richard's cock keeps you happy, my lovely," she said, "but if you ever wonder what it's like batting for my team, you only have to ask. I'll introduce you to the delights of sipping from the hairy cup any day of the week!"

Sketching an airy wave with one hand, she picked up her drink and her handbag, and wobbled off whence she had come. I looked at Richard and giggled.

"I see what you mean about her being the black sheep of the family," I said with a smile. "What a colourful vocabulary! And she smokes those dreadfully smelly cigars!"

Richard gulped and took a huge draught of his beer.

"I'm so sorry you had to hear that," he muttered, but I shook my head.

"Don't apologise," I said, taking his hand. "In fact, I quite liked the thought of, how did Aunty Alice put it? Us fucking like bunny rabbits all night long? Shall we go and prove her right?"

I'd never used the term 'fucking' before, and Richard seemed to approve. He got to his feet, swallowed the rest of his beer, and offered his arm to me.

"Walk this way, my lady," he grinned, using a phrase from a joke we had shared a few days previously. I took the bait.

"If I could walk that way, I wouldn't need the vaseline," I replied, taking his arm. "Let's just go and thank Janet and Eric for inviting us, and if they say anything about us leaving so early, it's because I've got a headache, ok?"

I winked at Richard, to reassure him that my head was perfectly pain free, and he grinned at me, and we went in search of our hosts.

Upstairs in our room, Richard slammed the door shut and took me in his arms and kissed me. As our lips met, I could feel his hands reaching for my boobs. He squeezed them gently, and my nipples hardened. I wriggled out of his embrace and started to unzip my dress.

"Hurry up!" I mock scolded him. "I can't wait to see you naked, Peter Rabbit! Who do you want me to be? Flopsy or Mopsy?"

We quickly undressed, and I led Richard to the large bed, pulling him by his stiff cock. It felt very wet and when I let him go to get into bed, my palm was sticky with his juice. I opened my arms and my legs to welcome him.

"I can smell Aunty Alice's cigar smoke on your hair," I told him. "I hope I don't stink of it too."

Richard sank down on top of me, and I felt him penetrate me. With a groan of disappointment, he tried to pull out almost immediately, and as he did so, he spurted his cum all over my tummy.

"Oh shit!" he wailed, "I'm sorry Olwen. That's never happened before."

"Never mind, sweetie," I reassured him. "Come and cuddle me. Maybe it'll go hard again in a few minutes."

But it never did, and we fell asleep in each other's arms without managing to resemble anything rabbit-like at all.

I recall that the week following the party was an extremely hectic one for both Richard and me. So by the Friday night, we were both exhausted. We prepared and cooked supper together, and we shared a bottle of wine. Then we watched one of Richard's favourite films, whilst cuddling on the settee.

I'd seen Bonnie and Clyde a couple of years ago, and what I liked most about it was the 1930s style clothes that Faye Dunaway wears whilst portraying the amoral, gun-totin' gangster's moll, Miss Bonnie Parker. After the film had finished, we went up to bed, and, it being Friday night, I was looking forward to making love with Richard.

We now both slept naked, as a matter of course, so when we got into bed, Richard kissed me, and started to fondle my boobs. I held his cock, which started to go hard, and I thought for the thousandth time what a lucky woman I was to have such a loving, considerate husband.

As Richard penetrated me, I mentioned that I was glad that he didn't have the same problems with me that Clyde Barrow obviously had with Bonnie Parker.

"He said he wasn't much of a lover boy," I reminded Richard. "You, on the other hand, are my favourite lover boy."

I felt Richard's cock pulse inside me, and that was quickly followed by the familiar warm, wet feeling as he shot his cum. Normally, we would kiss and cuddle for a few moments, but Richard seemed to shrink very quickly, and his cock slid out of me.

He apologised, and wriggled down in the bed and started to kiss between my legs.

"Richard, darling, you've just finished in me," I protested. "I'm full of your cum. There's no need for..."

But his tongue was in me now, and I loved the sensation of him licking me. I lay back and let his tongue work its magic.

When he'd finished, Richard emerged from beneath the bed clothes.

"We need to talk," he said, and I smiled at him.

"We always talk," I reminded him. "It's what husbands and wives do."

"I love you, Olwen," Richard said. "You deserve better than me. I can't satisfy you properly when we're in bed together. If you want to find yourself a man who can give you what you need and deserve, I won't cause any trouble, and I won't stand in your way."

I was stunned. Had I heard Richard properly? It sounded to me like he was proposing a divorce. My eyes filled with tears.

"Don't you love me any more?" I asked, my lips trembling. I was terrified of the answer that I'd get to that question.

"What?" said Richard in a puzzled tone. "Of course I love you. That's why I reckon you should find yourself a lover. Someone who can satisfy you in bed. I go off half cocked as soon as I'm inside you. That's not fair on you. I won't mind if you have sex with someone else!"

It was as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes. I could see the whole situation as clear as daylight. Richard was giving me permission to have an affair just so that he could have sex with different women at the same time. The red mist descended, and I lost my temper.

"You bastard!" I screamed at him. "If you think you can get away with such a transparent excuse to sleep around, you can think again! We said, "For better, for worse" two years ago, and I'm not about to turn my back on those sacred promises. Do what you like! I'm not sleeping in this bed with you tonight!"