This story includes themes of consensual cuckolding, intentional breeding, bisexual oral, and interracial sex. There's also a character with strong religious beliefs. If any of those themes would reduce your enjoyment of the story, please click away now.
Everyone in this story is an adult.
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There were two reasons Gavin was in a good mood as he walked through the lobby of the Docklands tower his employer used. Firstly, he was expecting to get news of his first international transfer. A transfer to Paris would come with all sorts of benefits while still being near enough that he could pop home for a rugby match if he wanted -- and had the time.
The other reason he was happy was the scenario Maja had woven in his mind as he was eating her out earlier. She'd been a very naughty girl and was dripping with babyjuice from the two bulls who'd railed her before Gavin got home. Could he clean her up? If she was nice and clean the priest might not know when she went to mass, later.
Gavin loved the way Maja played on her Polish purity in their lovemaking. He'd met her parents and they were upset that he wasn't Polish, wasn't catholic, and wasn't even Christian. They thought he drifted through life worshipping mammon. And it's true that he was a junior international banker -- hoping to become a senior international banker. But he didn't really worship mammon. He worshipped Maja.
Maja looked like she was very young and naΓ―ve. But she was young and willful. And that's what Gavin loved so much. Maja would take control and let him serve her. She gave orders. She made decisions. Gavin just had to be good with his tongue. Gavin loved bending to rightful authority and Maja was the rightest authority in his life.
And Maja had trained him harder than any Pilates instructor. After four years together, Gavin thought that he'd take gold if there was a formal competition. His tongue was the making of their relationship and compensated for what he missed elsewhere. He could use it to give Maja orgasms that swept through her with the force of a tsunami. He'd left her unconscious for so long he'd Googled whether he should call an ambulance.
But it wasn't a health issue. She was just very reactive and he was great with his tongue.
He barely noticed the other people in the lift on the way up. He just checked that his tie was properly knotted and his suit looked smart. It should. Maja had made sure that he looked the part for the role.
He floated out of the meeting room 40 minutes later. He'd be going to Paris! It was the assignment he'd wanted and had been practising for, for a year now. The bank would sort out his visa and assign him one of their city centre apartments.
"Looking forward to Paris, Mr Levan?"
Mr Brewer was the VP for his team. He had a bristling brown moustache and a nose and cheeks that were as red as the trousers he probably wore at weekends.
"Of course, Mr Brewer. It's what I've been working towards."
"Yes, I'm sure you'll do well in the Paris office. And outside it, no doubt."
Gavin just looked confused at that last remark.
"The cinq Γ sept, young man." He said breathing so close that Gavin could tell that Mr Brewer had been drinking pints of bitter last night. "Five until seven. It's the two hours after work, young man -- for a dalliance before dinner. I enjoyed my time in Paris very much, I can tell you!"
Mr Brewer laughed at the hilarity of his last statement and marched off towards the executive canteen.
β
"I've never heard of it." Maja told him when he got home and started making preparations. "What is it?"
"It's the two hours after work where wives are expected to cuckold their husbands." He explained. "Mr Brewer told me about it after I got the assignment today. We need to look into it. I think it's an important part of assimilating into the local culture, and probably the bank."
"Really?"
"Really. It's important. We have to be respectful of the local culture. We need to find a young man that you wouldn't mind taking between your legs."
Gavin said it, then he thought and looked appalled.
"I'm sorry, Maja. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. If you can't bring yourself to cuckold me I'll just have to do the best I can. Make up for it in other ways. There's no order or expectation."
Maja laughed.
"You silly boy! We've been playing this as games for years now. Making it real will be wonderful, especially as it has an official status -- it's formally allowed. It doesn't even have to be just one man. Maybe I could have a different man each day?"
"You'll do it? You'll cuckold me? Really?"
"Of course I will, silly. I love you, and I want to make you happy. And I think I could enjoy it a lot, too. It won't be a hardship. I promise you. There's no reluctance on my part, I assure you."
β
They created accounts on several different apps and found that Maja was very popular. French men, it seemed, liked the look of her tiny, lithe body and fair hair. They weren't put off by the situation explicitly being called out as cuckolding, either.
After swiping left and right for hours at a time they met a couple of possible bulls and ended up with Maurice. He had everything Maja was looking for. He was a wiry surfer, a hand taller than Gavin, spoke good English, and was also new to the city. He'd just arrived from Saint Martin, the northern half of a Caribbean island shared with the Netherlands.
"Everyday?" He asked.