Dominant Couple Stories

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Dominant Couple Stories
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When I got home that night my wife served dinner. I held her hand and said, "I've got something to tell you." She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking about divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, "Why?"
I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, "You are not a man!"
That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn't love her anymore, I just pitied her.
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it to pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources, and energy but I could not take back what I had said. I loved Jane now.
Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came home late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke up, she was still at the table writing.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions. She didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple; our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me, but she had something more. She asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for the month's duration, I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door every morning. I thought she was going crazy, but just to make our last days together bearable, I accepted her odd request.
I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. "No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce," she said scornfully.
My wife and I hadn't had any physical contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, "Daddy is holding Mommy in his arms."
His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the living room and to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, "Don't tell our son about the divorce."
I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying. Our marriage had taken its toll on her, and for a minute, I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing. I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, "All my dresses have grown bigger." I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, and that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me. She had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, "Dad, it's time to carry mom out." To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the living room, and to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, just like on our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, "I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy."
I drove to office, jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind. I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door. "Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore."
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. "Do you have a fever?" she replied.
I moved her hand off my head. "Sorry, Jane," I said. "I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day, I am supposed to hold her until death do us apart."
Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The saleswoman asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, "I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart."
That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face. I ran up the stairs only to find my wife in the bed – dead. My wife had been fighting cancer for months, but I was too busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and wanted to save me from any negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce. At least, in the eyes of our son, I'm a loving husband.
The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It's not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves.
So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. Have a real happy marriage!
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By


ZoeJacobson , July 12, 2015 in Lifestyles and Relationships




Please take a moment to consider if this thread is worth bumping.


My Husband is straight and I am Bi we are both doms so our personalities clash in this area.
He is allowing me to Dom a couple of lovely subs which will belong to us both ( although the male will be all mine ;) ) but I will be the one in control of them so we are seeking an open male and open female to be dommed by a fun kinky couple.
One of the things we ask is that you are able to speak english well.
If you are interested or would like more info please reply here or message either me or my Husband in game @ ZoeJacobson or JaredJacobson
please be serious about this as this is our lifestyle no people looking to hook up once.
Thank you for reading we hope to hear from you soon :)

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Our new neighbors were strange. That’s what I told my wife, the first time I saw them.
“Did you see the new people next door?” I asked her, the day they moved in.
“No, not yet,” she replied, busy making dinner.
She put the pot down. “What do you mean?”
Laura lowered the flame on the stovetop. “Okay, so what’s strange about them?”
She shook her head. “Harold, you think everyone’s strange. What do you mean they’re perfect?”
“They look like Ken and Barbie. Their faces are perfectly smooth and tanned. Their bodies are perfectly proportioned. Real people don’t look like that.”
“Have you taken your medication yet?”
“Yes,” I said in a huff. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with that. Let’s go over there after dinner. Welcome them to the neighborhood. You’ll see.”
And that’s what we did. Laura took over an apple pie she’d baked yesterday. I thought that was too generous on our part, but I’m cheap that way.
I knocked on their door and waited. ‘Ken’ opened it.
“Hi, I’m Harold and this is my wife Laura,” I said. “We’re your next door neighbors.” The man was over six feet tall, ruggedly built, with thick blonde hair. “Hello, people,” he said in an odd accent. Swedish, German maybe?
I forced a smile. “We came to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
“I’ve brought you a pie,” Laura added.
He looked down at the pie and frowned. “A pie,” he said, as though he’d never seen one before.
He stared back at us. “Please, enter my house and sit.” He stuck out his hand. “My name Jack Tor.”
Just then, ‘Barbie’ came into the room. Tall, long blonde hair, blue eyes. A knockout.
“I Susan Tor,” she said in the same odd accent.
We all shook hands and sat in the living room. “Where are you from?” I asked. “You sound European.”
The Tor’s exchanged a glance. Jack said, “From Ukraine.”
Laura smiled. “I brought you a pie.”
Susan Tor took it, looked at it quizzically and then put it on the table next to her.
“What do you want?” Jack asked, frowning.
I stood up. “Nothing... we just wanted to say hello; welcome you on your first day. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of unpacking to do.” I looked around the house and saw no moving boxes. The furniture was all in its place and the pictures on the walls were perfectly hung. How is that possible? I saw the moving truck unloading all their furniture and boxes just this morning.
“Didn’t I tell you?” I asked Laura as we walked back to our house.
“They seemed normal to me, dear. A funny accent, but other than that, just a very good-looking couple. Maybe they’re models...”
“Models my ass... They’re strange.”
A noise woke me up at 3 a.m. I looked at the clock and listened. There it was again. A scraping noise coming from outside. Laura was sound asleep next to me, so I slipped quietly out of bed and peered through the bedroom window. The noise was coming from next door. I pulled the curtain aside and saw lights on in their house. What the hell? It’s the middle of the night!
I put on a robe, walked downstairs and out to our porch, to get a better view of what was going on. There’s a window in the side door to their garage, and light spilled out of it. I crept over to their house; I know I shouldn’t have, but I’m pretty nosy.
I peered in the window and saw our neighbors. They were dressed in black clothing and were loading something into their van. At first I thought they were burlap bags, but after a second look I saw they were huge brown eggs. What the hell are those?
Suddenly a dog barked down the street. Startled, the Tors stopped loading and looked around. I don’t think they saw me, but I got scared and ran back to my house. I crawled into bed and tried to fall back asleep.
Over breakfast, I told Laura what happened.
“Silly man. You shouldn’t be spying on our neighbors.”
“I’m telling you, they’re strange.”
She shook her head. “I’m calling Dr. Larson today. You need to see him.”
“I’m fine. And, yes, I took my medication this morning.”
“I’m not making this up; I saw them loading these huge eggs into their van. I think they’re aliens from another planet. They’re going to take over Earth...”
“Okay, that’s it. As soon as I get back from the market this morning, I’m calling the doctor.”
Laura did the dishes, finished her supermarket list, took our old Buick, and left. Tired from last night, I lay on the sofa and closed my eyes. I thought I’d doze for a while, try to calm down. Maybe Laura was right, maybe I was imagining things.
Within a few minutes, I was startled awake by a noise outside. What could that be? Probably squirrels in the back yard.
I closed my eyes again and dozed off. Suddenly, I felt something grab my arms. My eyes snapped open. Oh, my God! It’s them!
Jack Tor held my arms in a vise-like grip, while Susan clutched something in her hand. Then I saw it. A large hypodermic needle.
I struggled, trying to get free. But it was no use; I’m sixty, a retired pencil pusher, no match for that guy. I screamed as she plunged the needle into my arm. Suddenly, my body went limp and everything turned black.
I was strapped down to a bed; Laura was standing next to me. We were in a hospital room.
“I’m sorry, Harold. I should have called the doctor sooner.”
I answered her, but it was gibberish — I couldn’t say anything coherently.
Tears rolled down her face. “Don’t try to talk. Doctor Larson says you’ve suffered a mental breakdown. I’m so sorry.”
I struggled against the straps. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to warn the world. Before it’s too late.
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I was actually attracted to my sister in law before ever even meeting my wife. She works in my company, but was already married at the time. She's very short at 4 '10, blonde hair, brown eyes....wide hipped but amazing legs and feet. Her skin is always that tan color and they always look so smooth. Her feet are size 6 and toes are on the shorter side, but they are perfect in every way.

I wound up marrying her sister 3 years ago. They show some resemblance but are still very different looking. My relationship with her is very similar to a mother in law. Although she is only 33, she has 4 kids and acts much older than her age. We get along but have never had a friend type of relationship because of her generally serious demeanor. Over the years I've spent many parties, BBQs, etc getting long glimpses of her incredible feet. I got incredibly horny one day when she brought up the subject of her having the nicest feet in the family. She has said it many times since, which is somewhat out of character for her. But I never had any sort of opening to realistically touch them, etc


A few weeks ago my wife mentioned that her sister was going to be sleeping over our house one Friday night soon so they can hang out like they used to before she had kids. I didn't think much of it, since she is always so straight laced. It turned out to be last Friday. She came over at 7ish with two bottles of wine, which was slightly shocking, as I've only seen her drink once, and that was at our wedding. I kept out of their way for the most part and let them do their thing. I was in the living room watching tv around midnight when they found their way onto the couch with me. By this time they were both pretty hammered. My wife was borderline sleeping already. They continued chatting for a few minutes before they both started to become quieter and quieter. My wife fell asleep first and my sister in law made a comment about how she snores and maybe she should go up to bed because she is hard to wake up when she's drinking, and didn't want to snore while I was trying to watch tv. At this point I seriously started to get aroused at the possibility of her falling to sleep stretched out on the same side of the couch as me. I had waited years to even smell her feet in the flesh (not just stealing her socks). I immediately convinced her it wasn't a problem and just to relax.


After another five minutes she was out cold, and within 20 minutes she was lightly snoring. I started to shake slightly at the anticipation, nervousness of the potential situation. I decided that this opportunity may never present itself again and I had to act on it. I slowly woke my wife up and helped her up to bed. She was murmuring nonsense and sleep talking. She was sleeping again as soon as I put her to bed. I went back downstairs and looked at the perfection lying there. She had jeans and socks on with a white tshirt. I had to test the water and see how deep of sleep she was in, so I started to nudge her while calling her name. After a few times with no movement, I started to try to pick her up off the couch like I was trying to bring her ip to bed, since it would have been a normal excuse if she woke. Again she didn't break for snoring at all. This gave me the confidence to remove one of her socks and I really almost came right there. The sight of her naked foot and knowing I was about to get as close as I ever would with them was almost too much too handle. I leaned down and started to take in the aroma from her toes. There was slight heat coming off them and that perfect foot smell we all crave.


I have to finish the update soon, as I'm on an iPad and typing is very slow and annoying.
Holy shit! This guys stops right in the middle of the story?! Who does that?
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