(In the previous installment Debra's son described how he and Shayna met in an online chatroom, her uncompromising gynarchist views and their eventful first femdom weekend together at her semi-rural house.)
Shayna usually came back from clubbing either really late or early the next morning. Later, when Nikki and Madison visited again, I heard all three women talk about the hot guys they knew. I must have been acting disapproving or jealous, because after the women left, Shayna made it clear that abstinence wasn’t for women. Women had already been subject to enough chastity in history. She wasn’t ashamed of her high libido and would continue to be sexually active no matter how our relationship progressed or how long it lasted. She had a steady guy at the present time, and while she wasn’t in the habit of bringing home dates, privacy was essential if she did. She’d phone me before he came, and I would stay in another part of the house until he left. Afterward, I was to conduct myself as if nothing had happened—no jealousy, no passive aggression, no sullen moping. If I overheard or saw things, oh well, but I was NEVER to ask her any details of her sex life.
Of course, I agreed.
One night while Shayna was out she sent me a text saying, “Bringing him home. Go in top door and STAY THERE.
By “top door” she meant the door at the top of the stairs that run along the outside of her house. In other words, go directly to the second story and stay out of sight.
I walked up to the second floor and stayed where and as Shayna ordered. In a few minutes I heard my car drive up (she was using my car because her battery had given out that day). I heard two car doors slam, and then I heard the front door of the house open. I could hear a little of what was going on below—Shayna giggling and a man’s deep voice. I couldn’t hear much more than that, but I tried to picture what might be going on. After several hours I thought I heard the front door on the first floor shut. Good, I thought. She’s taking him back to wherever.
But that was wishful thinking. From one of my upstairs windows I saw Shayna running with this hunky young blond guy toward the above-ground pool she had in the yard. They were both nude. It was a hot night and dark, with a sliver of moon, but I could just make out what was happening. They were hugging and kissing in the water, and I heard her squeal as he bit her neck and then her breasts. He was really aggressive and drove her wild. I could see why she wasn’t attracted to me in that way.
After a while he climbed up and sat on a small wooden deck that’s level with the top of the pool. Shayna, while still in the water, glided over and started performing fellatio on him. She was incredibly expert and relished what she was doing. She teased him with her hands and tongue, and then she took him all in, her head bobbing back and forth in rhythm. This guy was just casually leaning back, as though he’d had it a hundred times before and was slightly bored. If it had been me, I would have been out of my mind with ecstasy. But it wasn’t me. I was upstairs in a chastity device with blue balls and dribbling precum while peeking through a curtain at my goddess and her stud.
While this was happening, a cloud covered the moon and I couldn’t see anymore. I could still hear, though, and I listened for a little. I felt a hundred things all at once. I was angry and jealous but obviously turned on. I was even proud of her in a weird way. I closed the window curtain and went to bed but tossed and turned all night.
The next morning Shayna’s stud had a friend pick him up. I did my best to keep my promise. I acted like nothing happened and so did she.
All that aside, as
the months went by, Shayna and I went places and did things together, got to
really know each other and slowly formed a closer bond. We shared affectionate
kisses and embraces, but if I attempted anything sexual, I was sharply rebuffed.
Despite that, I fell hopelessly in love with her, and one day I told her so.
She replied, “I love you, too. I never thought I’d run across a guy with your background.”
“Then marry me,” I said.
“Are you sure, Dave? You know what kind of marriage it will be.”
“I know.”
“Things will be basically as they are now.”
“Can’t we at least consummate our marriage on our wedding night?” I said, with a hopeful grin.
“I love you, but not in that way. Besides, you’re not circumcised. I don’t have sex with uncircumcised guys.”
“I’ll get circumcised.”
“Ha! Is that a fact? Okay, then. If you do, we’ll have a traditional wedding night, but after that, expect very little sex. That’s not what I need from you. Remember what I said about the types?”
“I know, I know.”
“I just can’t faze you, can I? I don’t believe you’re for real.”
“I love you, Shayna, and I’m for real. I promise things will be exactly the way you want them in every area of our lives. Forever. I promise.”
“Then let’s set a date. For your circumcision first.”
I did get circumcised, and though it was more of an ordeal than I thought, I healed relatively fast. We set a wedding date for 13 months to the day after we met online.
During our engagement we met each other’s families. My mom and my fiancee liked each other, but there was some tension, mostly due to personality differences. Shayna was impressed by my mother and her matriarchal history, but Mom thought Shayna’s attitude toward the spiritual aspects of matriarchy (and a lot of other things) was too light and casual. Mom took her Goddess-centered beliefs seriously. Shayna felt that while the Goddess was important in gynarchy, it was utilitarian, best used as a concept to empower women rather than taken too seriously as an actual entity. There were other differences, too, but Mom told me afterward in private that she basically approved. If I was sure about Shayna, she was happy for me. Dad, my sisters, and nieces were happy too.
We visited Shayna’s family next. Her parents don’t relate to matriarchy or anything resembling it, so we had to be a normal vanilla couple when were there. They were very nice, but I could tell they thought I was way too old for her. I liked them though.
Shayna and I had a quick perfunctory civil ceremony by a judge, just to make sure our marriage was legal in our state. Her parents and a few vanilla friends attended that. But what we consider our real wedding was performed later the same day. It was private and small, attended by my family and a few of Shayna’s radical feminist friends. Shayna put it together, using her own ideas and borrowing some from my account of a matriarchal wedding of a friend of my family. It bore her own stamp without a doubt, reflecting her unique combination of humor and dominance that I fell so much in love with. I’ll have to leave some things out due to length, but you’ll get the gist…
(To be continued…)
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