<p>To her credit, she was honest with you from the start. Putting a ring on her finger didn’t entitle you to her pussy. Paying for an extravagant wedding entitled you to a kiss, but nothing else was guaranteed. Taking her on a beautiful honeymoon to Bora Bora didn’t mean that you’d get to consummate your relationship. To her, it was a privilege for you to see her in a bikini on your honeymoon. You didn’t come close to seeing her naked and you certainly didn’t get to fuck her, though she did let one of the resort employees fuck her several times during your stay.</p><p>You knew it would be that way. She told you when you proposed. She made it perfectly clear that she was marrying you because you could provide her with the life she wanted. She made it clear that you’d have to earn the chance to experience any of the pleasure a man typically enjoys when he gets married. She made it clear that your hard work would be rewarded, that if you made her happy she’d give you what you wanted. She’d let you see her naked body. She’d let you touch and kiss her spectacular breasts. She’d let you taste her pussy and use your tongue to make her cum. She’d even let you inside her from time to time if you worked exceptionally hard to make her feel good.</p><p>Your friends saw the way she treated you. They saw that she wasn’t particularly affectionate, that she rarely even granted you the pleasure of holding her hand. You told them that you hadn’t had sex before the wedding. You told them you hadn’t had sex on your honeymoon. They thought you were crazy. They thought you were being hoodwinked by a woman that was little more than a gold digger using her good looks and sexiness to ensure she had a good life without having to do much work.</p><p>What they didn’t know – what you could never make them understand – was that she understood you in a way no woman ever had. She understood that her particular brand of denial is what satisfied you more than any other form of sex ever had. She understood that refusing to let you see her naked breasts until two months into your marriage brought you greater satisfaction than if you’d spent those two months fucking her with wild abandon. She understood that you’re a different kind of man than almost any other, that you’re driven by far different pleasures.</p><p>Imagine if your friends knew that she cuckolds you. They wouldn’t understand that it turns you on to know that your wife loves fucking other men. They wouldn’t understand that you crave being cuckolded even more than you crave her pussy. They wouldn’t understand, but she does.</p><p>She’s the only one that truly understands you, and sometimes you’re surprised at just how well she understands you. Do you remember the last time you went lingerie shopping with her? Do you remember taking her to Agent Provocateur and spending more than $6,000 on lingerie? Do you remember how she turned you on?</p><p>“It’s all so expensive,” your beautiful wife said as you perused the exceedingly sexy bra and panty sets available for purchase.</p><p>“You’re worth it,” you said.</p><p>She turned and offered her bright, beautiful smile. Your heart beat just a little bit harder as you saw that naughty twinkle in her eye.</p><p>“Yeah?” she asked. “Even though there’s a good chance you’ll never see me in anything we buy today?”</p><p>You nodded. She stepped closer and you caught a whiff of her seductive perfume. You admired her perfect, shiny hair and her flawlessly applied makeup. You felt proud that she was your wife, that she’d chosen to marry you.</p><p>“It’s worth spending thousands of dollars so I can look good for another man?” your wife asked.</p><p>You nodded. She reached up to caress your face and you closed your eyes and felt a stirring between your legs. Her skin was warm and her touch was soft and tender.</p><p>“You’re a perfect husband,” she said. “You deserve a reward.”</p><p>Your eyes shot open and you searched her face for evidence of the kind of reward she intended on doling out.</p><p>“I’m going to let you choose,” she said. “You can either touch me in one of the lingerie sets we pick out, or you can see me in it. You can’t do both, though. Which would you like?”</p><p>“What…what do I get to touch?” you asked.</p><p>Your wife smiled. “I’ll let you touch my breasts and run your hands down my stomach and back to my ass. If your hands linger on any part of me for more than a few moments you’ll get nothing, though. You don’t deserve more than a simple, quick touch.”</p><p>“And how long do I get to look?” you asked.</p><p>“I’ll do a full model strut down the hallway of the fitting area,” your wife answered. “Then I’ll turn and head back. You can look the entire time.”</p><p>You considered your options. At that point in your marriage you’d never seen your wife in lingerie. She had a considerable collection, but she’d never worn it for you and she never let you see her get dressed so you hadn’t yet laid eyes on her body in such a beautiful state. You weren’t given the privilege of touching her all that often, though. It had been months since she’d offered that particular reward and you couldn’t help but think of how thrilling it would be to do so.</p><p>“I want to touch you,” you said.</p><p>Your wife smiled and leaned closer. Your heart pounded as you thought she might offer you a kiss. She didn’t, though. Her lips stopped just short of your cheek and she whispered, “Good choice.”</p><p>Your wife led you through the store and loaded your arms with an array of delicate, sexy pieces of lingerie. She commented on how much the man she was fucking at the time would enjoy seeing her in each piece. She held up a few pieces against her body, seemingly teasing you with the idea that you wouldn’t ever get to see it on her. You considered asking if you could reverse your choice when she held up a particularly sexy-looking black lace bodysuit, but you stayed the course. You wanted to touch her.</p><p>Your wife led you to the fitting room, shut the door, and said, “You’ve been so good today and for the past few weeks that I’m going to let you pick which lingerie set you get to touch me in.”</p><p>“The black lace bodysuit,” you said.</p><p>She smiled and plucked it from your arms. “Good choice,” she replied. Your wife set it on the bench and pulled a sleep mask from her purse. She’d come prepared for her little game. She put the mask over your eyes and plunged you into darkness. “It should go without saying that I’ll be very angry if you cheat and try to peek out from under that mask. You understand that, right?”</p><p>“Of course,” you said.</p><p>You listened as your wife stripped and you felt the urge to try and peek. You resisted it, of course. You had no desire to be punished.</p><p>“Okay,” she said. “It’s time for you to touch me.”</p><p>She stepped closer and took your hands in hers. She placed them on her breasts and you sharply inhaled as an intense kind of pleasure instantly enveloped your body. You wanted to play with her breasts forever. You never wanted to move your hands. You wanted to savor your wife’s perfect breasts for as long as you could, but you’d been warned. You moved your fingers down her stomach and felt the soft, delicate lace against your skin. You reached around and you grabbed two handfuls of her ass. Your cock was hard as a rock and your heart was pounding by the time you were done.</p><p>“Thank you,” you said. “Thank you so much.” Most men wouldn’t understand, but your wife had just given you a beautiful gift. You were riding high on that gift of denial mixed with the pleasure of touching her body, the body that she regularly gave to her lover.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” she replied. “Now sit while I try on the rest of this lingerie. There’s quite a lot of it, you know. It’s going to be expensive.”</p><p>You sat, leaned back, and smiled as your cock continued to throb. “You’re worth it,” you said. No one else would understand why, but she was absolutely worth it.</p>