Not a very realistic fantasy for a late 40s married dad, but I wish I could find a man who wanted to make me his househusband. He'd be charming, kind, and very dominant. I'd be seduced from the first time we met. It wouldn't take much to convince me to leave my unsatisfying straight life and the urban rat race behind.

What we both want is a very 1950s style relationship with strict roles and hierarchy. No feminization or sissy stuff, but very much "he makes decisions...I make dinner." We'd get modest old house in the country: quiet, secluded, and with lots of green. While he's at work, I'd busy myself fixing and decorating the house, keeping everything clean and orderly. In the spring and summer, I'd busy myself in our large garden, raising vegetables for our dinner and flowers to brighten our home. Maybe we'd get a few chickens, so we always had fresh eggs for omelets on a lazy Sunday morning.

Every night, I'd have dinner waiting for him when he gets back from work. I'd massage his stiff shoulders as he tells me about his day, reminding me how glad I am I gave that world up. After dinner, I'd pour him his favorite cocktail, or maybe surprise him with fresh cookies I baked. I'd clear the table and wash the dishes as he got comfortable watching TV or reading a book. When done with the chores, I'd join him, resting my head in his lap on the couch.

He would make all the decisions for both of us. On nights we go out, he would choose where we go and what I wear. A perfect gentleman, he holds the door and orders for me at restaurants. At home, he'd have high expectations for keeping the house and myself clean and attractive at all times. When chores are finished, I'd have time for leisure or hobbies, but he would have zero tolerance for laziness. If the house isn't neat or the dinner is lackluster or I skip my daily workout, I would know to expect his belt on my ass.

And of course, the sex would be amazing. I'd be expected to be always available to meet his needs, whether that be a blowjob under the table while he's drinking his morning coffee, a quicky from behind as I'm doing the washing up, or a night of sensual lovemaking in our big soft bed. How and when would always be his choice, and "no" would quickly be banished from my vocabulary. But he'd respond to my signals, noticing and rewarding me for wearing a cute outfit and returning my affection.

I know this isn't a remotely realistic desire -- I'm not sure anyone lives like this -- and it's all the more fantastic for a man in my position. But if I found a guy who truly wanted this, and loved me enough to make it real, I don't think I could resist.