4/15/15

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

And i could also say "guess who's going to cum?"  i know, that's pretty crass and naughty.

i had my first opportunity to make not just one, but two appointments for Paul on "The Cuckold Calendar" Diane wants me to manage.   The first appointment was for a late afternoon date here today for the two of them, followed by an early evening dinner before Paul leaves.

Of course in situations like this there are always some sort of time constraints so while Paul and Diane are cavorting up in the master bedroom, the dutiful cuckold will be preparing dinner.  There's probably not going to be enough time to include me in any of today's sexual activity (that may have to wait until later if Diane requires any follow-up servicing) after dinner.  My time is better spent preparing dinner for the three of us.  i'm sure they will have worked up an appetite.

i've just returned from the grocery store with the provisions i'll need to prepare a Mediterranean rice salad, grilled vegetables and some chicken kabobs.  As made my way through the produce section, i glanced around and noticed what appeared to be a few other housewives doing the same thing i was
doing.  i just happened to be the only male there at the time and certainly wouldn't have appeared unusual to them, but the experience was just one other little thing that i have to do that makes me feel more submissive.

The second appointment is for early next week since Diane is not available on Wednesday.  Right now Paul is on Diane's calendar for Tuesday evening which may present itself for another opportunity for me to serve dinner.

As is the rule, i will be dressed feminine while Paul is here and will also be out on the patio in my apron manning the grill.   Real men often wear one of those grilling aprons, the one's that make sure
to highlight their masculinity and machismo and turn the domesticity of cooking into a manly task.

i won't be wearing anything like that today.  i have plenty of others to choose from, all either pink, flowery or ruffly and all unmistakably feminine.  The manly one's just aren't me.

Besides, i wouldn't be allowed to wear one even if i wanted to.

love,

sissy terri