Men Propose Women Decide, That's The Way It Is

Growing up I played with the boy next door. We were preschool and we played that we were married. Parents thought it was cute and encouraged me to nurture and him to protect. As a very Young couple we had a good old fashioned marriage. I loved playing wife, learning how to cook starting with baking him cookies and learning how to make spaghetti. I served him, talked stuff with him, brought lemonade outside during the summer. He was taught how to hunt, use a hammer, wash the car, all the boy stuff. He didn't boss me around, it was the man in him talking to the woman in me, with the voice of authority that lets you know he was in charge.

We went through puberty, his voice changed, I started bleeding, my boobs popped out, and we got pubes. His dick got big, I couldn't believe how big his dick was, but as big as it was it fit right in. Sex started when we were around twelve, before we had really finished puberty, my boobs were bumps on my chest but very sensitive. It was time for me to learn all the real stuff, grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning the bathroom. He learned the boy stuff, driving, and other masculine stuff. He started whistling to get my attention, and one whistle was enough to turn my head his way.

His mother went away for a week to visit her sister in California, she left me in charge. She and I went grocery shopping, we had made out a menu for each day of the week. I knew where all the dishes were, the cooking pots and pans. When she got home I had been a perfect little wife, the laundry was done, the bathrooms were clean, the kitchen was spotless, and the men hadn't missed a meal.

The question facing us was whether we got married before going to college or waiting for us to finish. The mothers voted for before, the dads voted for waiting after college so he could sow his wild oats. I would have to wait my time, waiting for him to come home after trying out some chearleader or city girl who couldn't cook a square meal. I put a hex on his dick, told him I had my eye on it, I may he his girl, his future wife, the future mother of his children, but he was going to understand that was my dick, and I would pull a Lorena Bobbitt on him if he fucked another girl. I'll cook and clean, be the wife I had always been, but his dick was mine, no wild oats for him.

We got married before we went to college, the women won, the men had to do as they were told.