Carrie was losing faith we could live in a female led relationship arrangement. Things had become tense. My behavior killed it for her by my acting childish because she hadn't granted me an orgasm. She thought she was clear; when I demonstrated I understood how to obey, I'd be allowed to cum.
While I did what I was told, she found my whiny and pouting attitude tiresome. If this was how I was going to act, she didn't need FLR. So she intended to end it.
That evening when I arrived home, we discussed the state of our brief two week FLR journey. As she told me we'd go back to a normal marriage, the color flushed from my face. I pleaded for the FLR to continue. She refused due to my childishness. When discussion became argument, she headed out for a walk.
I apologized when she returned, and begged her to reconsider. Despite her lack of confidence a FLR could work, she saw how much it meant to me. She also realized she enjoyed their FLR until my attitude changed. She offered me a chance.
Tomorrow I'd have nothing to do but write her a letter. My task, describe my idea of our FLR. She would then decide whether we would continue or not.
The next evening Carrie came home to see me sitting at the dining room table. I was stunned by her choice of clothing; a simple silky black shift dress with thin shoulder straps, a deep-v neckline that displayed half her breasts, and ruffled bottom that fell just above mid-thigh.
She picked up the letter on the table, kissed me, sat down, and read.
Dear Carrie,
Thank you for considering our continued female led relationship. For our relationship to flourish, our love to mean something more than just being together because of our attraction to one another, I offer you this definition of purpose.
Carrie looked up to me, "Before I read this, I want you naked."
I stood up and got naked. She took stock of me as I stripped. Looking me up and down she shared that over the years I have become overweight, not grossly but pushing 30 pounds too much, and that perhaps we must fix that. While strong, my muscle definition has faded. My slightly above average length cock was of average thicknesses; more than capable of pleasing her. My blue eyes and a smile that could melt an icy day, to her I was beyond handsome.
Carrie on the other hand has a six-pack and nicely defined feminine features from head to toe. Her fit and tone 5-foot, 5-inch frame stopped me in my tracks upon first sight when we met in college. A gym rat since high school, fitness had always been a priority for her. Ironically her choice in men was never based on them matching her level of muscle tone or low body fat. She again reminded me now that back in college, I was fitter, more tone than I was today.
"Did you masturbate today?" She asked plainly.
Looking down at my cock, then back to her, "How'd you know?" I answered.
"I expected you to," Carrie smiled. "I did too."
She read on...
Carrie you are the dominant presence in my life, which I need, therefore you deserve to be the absolute authority in our relationship.
Carrie looked back to me, "Absolute authority, huh?"
"Yes, seems anything less would complicate things," I explained. "A solid foundation if you will."
"Agreed," Carrie acknowledged. "Stroke your cock while I read."
I grabbed my cock, my hand sliding up and down my hardening seven inch shaft.
She read on...
Carrie you'll own all major responsibilities as the dominant. Household needs, entertainment, future planning, social involvement, health, finances, everything in our everyday lives will be directed by you. My opinion as the submissive in any matter will be yours to consider as you see fit.
Carrie looked back to me, "How's that cock feeling?"
"Oh quite good," I smiled. "Only your touch would make it feel better."
