The Fools Proposal

The Fools Proposal

I had the ring, the best man picked out, my speech all written and memorized, and I had been working on my nerve all week. When I got down on one knee, finally, she smiled, coquettishly, and said I was sweet. "You expect me to be a PTA wife," she said. "I'll never be that."

"What will you be?" I said.

"A HotWife," she said. "At least. A woman with lovers and few morals and a pretty sexy smile."

"I could manage that," I said.

"No you couldn't," she said. "You'd need a stay-at-home wife who would be devoted to you, mend your socks, and be faithful like a St. Bernard with a cask of wine under his chin. I could not do that," she said. "Not even for a weekend, not even for a sweetheart like you."

"But I could try," I said, desperate to hear her say 'I do,'

"Does it turn you on to think about me fucking other guys," she asked, "while you watch?"

"Maybe," I said.

"It can't be maybe," she said. "A cuckold dreams of watching his wife being thoroughly fucked and him being humiliated by a hunky bull with a big dick and a mean disposition. You're no cuck," Claire said. "You fantasize about me getting fucked like that?"

"I could try," I said.

"Oh, baby, it doesn't work that way," she said. "You're about as far away from being a cuckold as I am from being a shy housewife in a chastity belt and a big diamond ring. You could not get me in a chastity belt anymore than you could buy me a big diamond ring."

"But I love you," I said. "I can change."

"Could you be a hit man? It is not in you. You are far too stable to be a cuckold, far too into yourself, and much too sexually horny for pussy to want another man to fuck your little wifey instead of you. Face it, the best thing I could be for you is someone else's wife. I love you too, but too much to put you through what being a cuckold would put you through," she said.

"Face it. I just like being fucked too much to be married to any one man, even you. Your problem is, you fell in love with a promiscuous woman, a slut, a harlot, a person who likes fucking better than she likes people. Sorry. I like you too much to put you through that."

As hard as that was, it probably was the kindest thing anyone ever did for me. Claire, the woman I proposed to, has had many lovers over the years, has even sold sex, been in a number of gang bangs, but she never settled for one man and I have to thank her for not letting me make the mistake of trying to be something I am not.

I talk to her occasionally, and we even laugh now about my silly marriage proposal. It would have been a monumental mistake to marry her, try to be satisfied with waiting at home while she was fucking multitudes of males in sleazy motels and foul smelling beds in shabby apartments.

I think I still love her, but I am married now to a woman who thinks my jokes are funny and I am at least smarter than her dumb brother who is constantly coming up with ideas how to hit it big and missing the gold ring by a country mile every time.

My sex life is fine, although I know that no one will ever match Claire in the sexual excitement department, but you do what you can and avoid what you can't. However, it would be ingenuous of me to say I never think of Claire. The truth is, I think of her a great deal. Sad as it may be, I fantasize about her probably daily. I remember our sex as something really special. She is a woman who men don't often forget, and sex with her was about as erotic as human physical interaction can get.

I often fantasize about our oral sex because that was the most exceptional sexual experience I ever had. We dated for a year and it was the sex that made me want to spend my life with her, but it was also the sex that made it a good thing she didn't accept my proposal. She did make it clear, however, that she was not a one-man woman. There was no deception, no dishonesty, and I knew from the start she didn't intend to be faithful to any one person. The sex was so good it clouted my judgement. It made me not think of the difficulties of connecting with a woman who had her ideas about sex and her views about marriage and monogamy.

She gave me the same latitude, although I wasn't interested in that kind of open sexual opportunity. I was only interested in her, it was that way for me, but she was interested in everybody else. Of course, that is part of what made it so sweet.

The first night we were together we had sex, which should have been a clue, but it blurred my vision and muddled my brain. I was "in love" and could not see passed the end of my erection. It was incredible sex, best I ever had before or since, and it took over all reasoning. She was all I could see, and all I wanted, and all I thought about.

I think I decided that first night I wanted to marry her. It was totally irrational, totally libido driven, and totally nuts. The first time we had sex she took the lead. I usually always initiated sex but she drove the bus, she got things going, and she decided what we did. I fell in love with that. She undressed me, she got on her back, open her legs, and directed me to the divine spot. She pulled my head to her soft, wet crevice, and she drew my face tight against her pussy.

I was absolutely in heaven. I sucked, I probed, I licked and swallowed, and I was dizzy with delight every second I was with her. No woman had ever taken the initiative like before and all I could see was a life of fabulous sex with a woman who always wanted it.

What I didn't see was the difficulty that would come with it. She saved me, actually, from myself. Our first weekend together was spent in bed, with her on top and me buried deep in her, cowgirl, with her sitting up over me and writhing like a snake as I pushed up into her with piston ferocity and wild-ass pleasure, forgetting all reason and good sense.

That is what happens to men who are given what they've dreamed about their whole adult lives. After I came she cleaned my dick with a devoted and expert tongue, lapping and sucking and tasting my semen like it was a gourmet meal.

After that weekend I only thought of sex; not work, not family, not anything rational. That's the problem with great sex, it dulls the thinking process. I wasn't thinking clearly. All I could see was her and me, in bed, in the throes of passion, and nobody else in the world. Problem is, there are other people and she would want to fuck them all, probably would, and I would have to deal with that and she was smart enough to know I couldn't.

So I have realized what a great thing she did for me by saying, "No." My life hasn't been wonderful, but it hasn't been bad either. It is a life basically without stress. Carrie, my wife is a good person who believes she owes her life to her family and loves them because they need her to. Both children, Kenneth and Rhonda, do well in school and think they know what they want to be as adults.

Kenneth wants to be a doctor and Rhonda wants to teach, she always has. This is the story about a man saved from himself. It is about good sex that had him not thinking and looking only at the present and not the future. It is a cautionary tale for every man with testosterone in his system that controls his thinking or lack of it and leads him toward disaster.

I have told you about the first time I had sex with Claire, but now I would like to tell you about the last. It was sweet, hot, passionate, and she gave me a memory to last a lifetime. We had missionary, cowgirl, doggy, oral, and tender, loving, soft caresses that have stayed in my thoughts from then on and helped me drift into a smiling sleep for years to come. We humped until exhaustion laid us out like rags on a hard surface and slipped into sleep spent in one another's arms until she left and slipped out of my life for good.

It was at my apartment, on my bed, next to the picture I have kept in my desk since that fateful night. She left me a note that simply said, "Enjoyed every second of you. Claire." It may have been the best sex anyone has ever had, but those records are not kept, so we'll never know. I am just sure that it can't get much better than it was that night, and the outcome was as grand as the sex. Believe me.