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My Miss

By: Alex Valentine



I have fantasized about you a lot more than I can say. I have had dreams. I masturbate and think about you. I think about you and wonder if you ever take off your clothes and think about the time I came over to your house and sat on the floor? I couldn't take my eyes off your legs, your thighs and your breasts. I wanted to suck your toes and make you wet. I wanted to go into your bathroom and cum soooo hard just to relieve the pressure in my cock. 

I dream sometime that I did go into your bathroom and begin to masturbate, there's a picture of you in the bathroom and I have it in my hand and am wanting to cum soo bad. Suddenly the door swings open and you are standing there, you see what I am doing and you stare for a minute and then slam the door. I am very embarrassed. I pull myself together and straighten up. I leave the bathroom and begin to cross to the door to leave when you call my name. 

"Come here you say" I stop in my tracks and cross over to you. "Sit down before you leave." I sit down on the other end of the couch. "No sit back on the floor and rub my feet like before, I have something to say." I swallow the lump in my throat and sit and begin rubbing your feet. After a bit you speak. "I am very humiliated that you would abuse my picture in such a way, and I though about telling everyone you know, I was so mad. But then what do I get out of that? Instead I though I would use you for a little bit." 

I begin to open my mouth to speak and you shove you foot into my mouth. "No don't speak unless I tell you to" You say. I sit awe struck for a moment and then overcome with lust I begin to suck on your toes. "Umm that's nice" and you lie back "But I think you should be licking higher." I look up and you have opened you dress. Not in control any longer I crawl up your legs and begin to slowly and patiently lick you. My tongue flicking in and out over and under. I begin to sit to make myself comfortable and you grab my hair. "No I think you should stay like the dog you are." 

I continue to lick and suck as you direct me. When you are through I have helped you cum many times. You then stand and undress me. You play with my enraged cock for a bit and then stand to make a phone call. "Stay" you say as you look back at me and then cross into the other room and make a phone call. When you come back you are nude. You cross behind me and sit on me. You then place a tape in your VCR and I hear the sound of people fucking. They are going wild and I can feel you getting wet. You are dripping all over my ass. You begin to play with your self as you sit there and watch that movie, every once and a while you will reach down between my legs and play with my balls or cock. 

Then suddenly you slap my ass as you finger your self. I grunt in pain and you say "Ah ah ah, I said no talking dog." You then go back to watching your movie and playing with your self. I can feel you getting excited again and slap, there is your hand again. I can feel your fingers flying over your pussy and the more excited your fingers get the more you slap my ass. Finally I hear you cry out as you cum all over me griping my ass with your fingers as you do. As you finally quit shaking the door bell rings. You stand and open it. 

It is Cristine. You kiss her on the mouth, a deep passionate kiss and then pull back and tell her. "I made a mess all over the dog. Clean him up and then come into the bed room." 

"Yes mam" she replies and then she takes off her clothing. You leave and she comes over to me. "She told me what you did, but I'm glad you did it, she's wanted you for a long time." she says, then she kneels down and begins to lick your cum from my body rubbing her body all over me as she does. Finally she stands as I am about to burst and says follow me into the bed room, don't stand though, she seems to like you this way" I follow into the bed room. You are laying there. "Good, Cris is he clean?" 

"yes mam" she replies. 

"Ok, Chris I want you to lay down her and eat me while he fucks you, tell me if he is a good fuck and what I need to teach him. Dog do not come in Chris's pussy, that belongs to me. If you must cum, cum all over her ass and you can lap up your own mess later. Now fuck her dog." Chris lays down and begins to eat you and I raise up and enter her as you scream instructions to us both. 

"Dont cum in her," you scream. Then you can't last any longer, You cum, screaming our names. You collapse and Chris whirls around, she lays under my cock, points at her face and tits and strokes it three times. I cum, splattering it all over her. I have never cum so hard. In fact the shock is to much, I pass out. 

When I come too I am tied to the bed post. Chris sucking on my cock, you lowering your pussy over my face, but that is a whole 'nother story.

My Missing Pen Pal



Once I had a pen pal. He seemed like such a really nice man. I found him right here on Literotica. I had been looking for a story to read, perhaps something that was more romantic than graphic. Then for the first time I happened to scroll down the page below the stories and noticed the bulletin board. I clicked on there and saw lots of young studs looking for phone sex. However, hidden between all these ads was one from a middle-aged man, about my own age, who wrote a long and detailed bio about himself. 

His description read as follows:

Romantic and caring and intelligent man looking for interaction with a romantic, caring, and intelligent woman. “ He said  “I love sunsets, warm moonlight nights, flowers, and opera.”  Oh good, I thought, “A romantic man, not just only erotic chat.” I read further and learned that he had a Ph.D. and had traveled over much of the world. He said he enjoyed interesting people from all over the world. He went on to say, “I am looking for a middle-aged woman who is enchanting, interesting, and caring. Sweet would be a big plus. All I want to do right now ... all I can do right now … is exchange e-mails and perhaps pictures. But in the future???? Don’t know.”  He continued by saying, “If you are a woman who wants to make contact with a caring man and you look forward to conversation that is a bit deeper than normal … and you can put up with a man who only lives in cyber space (at least in the beginning) then give me a try Give it a shot. What do you have to lose?" 

Without another thought I clicked the reply button and sent him a couple of lines about myself. 

I read the biography again. Ah, he stated he was a published author and had written a great deal of poetry. One of his stories was listed under the Romance section of this site. Quickly I searched it out. It was quite hot and steamy, but very well written. I wrote him another couple of lines to tell him I had enjoyed his story, and that I too enjoyed writing but had never thought I was good enough to submit anything for publication. 

My heart rate quickened when next I turned on my computer and found a lengthy reply from him. It seemed he liked what I had what I had written about myself, which was just a brief physical description, and what I did for a living and where I lived. He wrote,

One thing I can really do is help you find the courage to write. If you want just write whatever you feel, about whatever you would like, as erotic or non-erotic as you feel like, and I would love to read it.” In the same e-mail he continued, “So, send me a description of your favorite fantasy. Be free. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Nobody is watching. You are free to be and feel whatever you want, to be whomever you want. Take off and let yourself fly. Or write me anything else you want. Anything you want is okay. Just let yourself flow with it. 

He told me that he liked opera more than anything else and had always wished he had learned to play the violin. And he signed by saying, “By the way, my name is Shane.” 

I could hardly wait to respond. Never having done this before I wasn’t sure where to begin. So I started at the beginning, by telling him the lengthy tale of how I came to be reading stories in Literotica to begin with. I didn’t want him to think I was some kind of cyber-slut who wrote to every person placing a personal ad. I don’t especially like opera so mentioned some of my favorite musicians, but I did ask if Evita counted, because I had really enjoyed both the stage production and Madonna’s movie. 

His next reply warmed my heart when he said, “Yes, Evita counts!” He expressed such compassion and sympathy for the story of rejection I spilled out to him. It felt so good to be able to write to an unknown person who seemed to care, despite the fact that he had no clue who I was. 

After I expressed difficulty in finding private computer time in my house he made the following suggestion:

We both need to recognize that we might not be able to get to a computer for whatever length of time. As a result either of us might see a break in time without a response from the other. Also, either of us may decide at some point, for whatever reason, that we have to stop writing. Sooo … I suggest an exchanged commitment. I won’t stop writing to you without telling you (unless I get hit by a bus). So if I haven’t written in a while don’t worry about. It only means that I am traveling (which I do a lot) or can’t get to a system. I would ask you for the same commitment. 

Hey, no problem from my end, I never go anywhere anyway, which is probably why my life is incredibly boring most of the time.

Soon we were corresponding almost on a daily basis. Sometimes he would respond to my letters throughout the day in sections. He always had good comments to make and interesting things to say. I learned a little about his daily routine and shared some of mine. I heard about his family and was fascinated with the eloquent story he told of growing up on a ranch in rural Arizona. He was away most weekends sailing on his 47’ sloop, so I mentally made notes about questions I would like to ask him, and things I wanted to tell him: a particularly beautiful sunset I had watched, a brilliant rainbow, how blue the Pacific ocean was that day.

As the first month progressed I spent more and more time thinking about my mystery friend. I so looked forward to seeing the flag go up on the AOL mailbox telling me that there was a new letter waiting to be read. We started to plan out a story we would write together. We laid out the scenes, worked on the characters and the setting. It was a complex story of a romantic nature set in the eighteenth century. We knew the ending because it was my own story from a past life, which had been told to me by a psychic healer. We just needed to set out the beginning and the middle, and build up to the beautiful love scenes. I knew in the end that the lover dumped me big time, and left behind a brokenhearted woman. 

One day I awoke early in the morning and a brand new story, one which had never occurred to me before, leapt out of me and into my computer. I wrote it for my pen pal. It had some references to his favorite opera in it, as well as a day of sailing because I knew that was one of his passions. He greeted the story with pleasure and enthusiasm and encouraged me to write more. Then he wrote a special story for me. It was long and descriptive and included a compelling love scene. I printed up a hard copy and kept it hidden in the bathroom cupboard, exactly what was needed to spice up a dull sex life. Oh, this was all so much fun – someone writing a story that was just for you. It was so exciting. 

The minutiae of our daily lives continued along with our regular e-mail exchanges. I told him my most intimate secrets. I bared my soul to him. We decided to exchange photographs. Suddenly we were real people, not just print on a silver screen. He was a good looking guy, standing on a boat with a Tahitian scene for a backdrop. I am fairly striking, and looked pretty good in my picture, after just coming back from a work out at the gym. A stronger attraction started to form between us. (At least it did from my point of view!)

He taught me how to have private chat sessions, I am such a novice at all this high tech stuff. The second time we chatted I aroused him by fantasizing that I had landed behind his computer chair and couldn’t wait to feel the soft denim of his blue jeans. I ran my hands up and down the soft fabric until I could no longer resist and had to feel the bulge hidden beneath the thick seams at the crotch. 

After that I did not hear from him for five days. He didn’t even acknowledge the chat session we had enjoyed. Immediately I imagined the worst: he had indeed been hit by a bus; he had drowned sailing; he had been in a plane wreck. I wrote twice hoping he was just in an extremely long meeting or his computer had crashed. When he did reply, it was to say that it was foolish of me to worry, hadn’t he in fact said he might not always be able to stay in contact? So true, silly of me to worry like that, especially about someone I really didn’t know. But, somehow it did seem as if we knew each other by now. He had even asked me one time, “Do you think perhaps we corresponded together in another life time?” 

I realized I had been making too much of this non-relationship. I decided not to be so emotional. “Just keep the chatting neutral from then on” I told myself. “Detach myself more, don’t be so intense and look forward so much to hearing from him.” However the very next day he wrote the following piece:

I had a dream about you over the weekend. I started writing it down and maybe by next week it will appear … for now I will just it involved a night with moonlight moving about on the water like liquid silver. And whales … and walking up behind you while you were looking out to sea. And feeling my arms slip around your waist. And drawing your body up to mine … and feeling you settle back against me.. and feeling the skin of your cheek sliding back against mine. And feeling my lips gently touch the hollow at the back of your neck. And feeling our bodies swaying together in the warm breeze … moving together as one. 

As listening to the sound of the waves as they lapped gently on the shore. And then seeing your face glowing in the moonlight as you finally turned to me. And feeling my hands as they cupped your face. And feeling your body melting into mine. The feel of your naked stomach sliding upon my warm skin, and then the rich taste as for the first time I leaned forward and pressed my lips to yours. And the way that I felt your lips. Hungry. Wanting. Seeking. And the way I felt your hands sliding down my naked back … and the way I felt the desire growing inside me. Ad the way I felt my manhood growing. And as my lips explored the sweetness of your mouth and your hands pressed me forward into you. I remember how it felt … the first time that my hard penis slid up and down your treasure box. 

And as I kissed you harder and harder and the warmth of the night and the silver of the moon blended together into mystery and magic … and my hands slid down your naked back … and slid under your hips … and drew your magic closer and closer … and I could feel your breasts pushing up against my chest. And I could feel your heart pounding in your chest … and I felt wanting as I never have before. I felt myself wanting you. Needing you. As you moved your hips gently up and down, in rhythm with the breaking waves … and I kissed your lips so deeply as you moved your body up and down, sliding your lips along the tip of my aching member. And I remember the feeling of your tongue sliding gently into my mouth, tentative, probing, seeking pleasure … just as for the first time the tip of my member slid slowly into …You will have to imagine the rest. Until it is finally written down.

I thought it was the most beautiful scene I had ever read. I was completely enamored all over again, I was smitten, I was filled with desire. I wanted him. At the same time I wondered, “How could he be angry with me one moment and then write something so compelling the next?”

However, after a few days I couldn’t resist writing the following introductory piece back to him: 

It had been a sunny day with just the hint of a breeze to cool things off. The sun had dropped behind the horizon and the full moon was already casting a silver shoon across the rippling waves. I stood at the water's edge and gazed across the vast Pacific. When the beach had emptied of the few folks who had been basking in the sun during the day, it was all mine. I had walked along the shore and was certain there was nobody else around. I peeled off my black bikini and walked slowly into the ocean feeling it cool against my warm skin. It was a long time since I had gone skinny-dipping, but it felt delicious to be so free, unencumbered by straps. I just wished I could have bathed naked in the sun during the day and rid myself of those white stripes. Now I was relaxed and enjoying the feeling of the salty water drying slowly on my skin. My little triangle of curls was fluffed up from the water and still dripping. I was thinking, "It's so long since I've heard from Shane. He must be out there somewhere on the other side of the Pacific in his boat. Perhaps he's sitting naked writing a story that I'll get to read some day. It would be just so perfect if he was actually here to enjoy this beautiful evening.

I heard a slight noise behind me, but felt so tranquil that I didn't bother to turn around. Suddenly I felt hands gently slip around my waist and up under my bare breasts. I felt my heart quicken and my breathing grow deeper, but it wasn't from fear. Oh no, not fear at all, but excitement. A voice whispered into my ear, "Yes, I'm here." And I leant back against his firm chest feeling the coarse hair brushing my back. His lips pressed against the nape of my neck and I felt my breathing becoming deeper still. He ran his hands down my hips and thighs and waves of pleasure surged up inside me. He moved his hands back up and cupped each breast and gently squeezed my erect nipples, until I could bear it no longer and had to spin around and thrust my head against his chest and dig my fingers deep into the hollows of his lower back.

After that we exchanged more photographs with each other. He sent me pictures he had taken of a sunrise, I sent a sunset. He sent me the mountains near his home, I sent him a beautiful beach. Each picture, each letter seemed to connect us closer together in my mind. 

I started to write another story and asked if he would like to pick it up and write the part for the man. I kept the first scene very general so that he could take it and go whichever way he chose. A couple of weeks later he sent the second part back to me. It had taken a completely different direction to the one I would have expected. It made it even more fun. Suddenly I knew how the whole story would play out and had no trouble tapping out the third episode.

While I waited for him to work on the next portion he wrote me this next piece, which I now thought of as “The Moonlight Sonata.”

Your skin feels so lovely as it feels silky smooth against mine. I can feel the delicious warmth of your body as you press it against me. I can feel the electricity begin to spark as you gently lift your face to mine. And my lips reach down and gently kiss yours. You hold our bodies together as one as I move my hands up and gently cup your face. I hesitate for a moment. Stopping. Filled with wonder at how beautiful you really are. My eyes are lost in yours as I watch the light dancing in your eyes. I move my hands gently up and down. Feeling the fine texture of your skin. Ever so lightly, like a feather drifting in a warm afternoon breeze, my fingers slide up and down your cheeks. Amazed by how incredible you feel. My lips return to your neck. As I kiss you gently at the nape of your neck I feel your hands drawing us even closer together.

My lips move back to yours and again I kiss you. I can hear a gentle moan, forming deep in your soul. And it escapes and mixes with the intoxicating sound of the moonlight waves gently lapping on the shore.

For us there is no time. There is no place. There are no sorrows. No worries. Only each other. Drifting together in a dimension beyond normal existence. My lips move gently on yours as I feel yours soft and full beneath mine. 

I kiss you stronger, and feel your kiss as it returns. My hands move down to your shoulders. Moving gently over the white stripes on your shoulders. Gently kneading the soft and creamy skin. I feel the desire building in your kisses. Your body is moving slowly up and down against mine.

I kiss you harder. My breath is coming faster. I wonder if you can feel my heart beginning to beat within my chest. I can feel your taught nipples sliding up and down in the coarse hair of my chest, the feel of your breasts on my chest drive my onward. I kiss you fully. Deeply. My lips move against yours. I want you so badly.

I open my mouth so slightly. Wanting to feel your tongue. Wanting to feel you enter me. Then my hands move down and I hold them against the sides of your breasts. Pushing gently against them as you slide them up and down.

I feel your tongue enter my mouth. Tentatively. Slowly. And I gently suck it into my mouth. My hands move against your breasts. They feel so soft and so wonderful. I can feel my manliness growing as the patch of hair outside your woman's treasure moves up and down against it.

My desire grows as I feel your naked skin on mine. I plunge my tongue into your mouth and move it all around. My hands find your breasts. I am moving all around them. My member is hard. And wanting. My breath is hard and rapid. I can feel yours warm and wet in my ear.

Suddenly my need is enormous. I want to feel you. I want to experience every inch of you. My hands are making circles around your breasts. The circles tighten. I kiss you faster and faster. Deeper and deeper. Then the tight circles find your breasts. 

I draw my fingers around them. Pulling each. Stretching them. You kiss me frantically and my lips are so hungry for yours, as my fingers find your erect nipples. They drive me wild as my fingers play with them. I roll them. Squeezing gently. Pulling. Rolling.

I work to hold them as your body is moving faster and faster up and down mine. My penis is hard and throbbing. I can feel it curving up. I pull harder on your nipples. and crush your breasts with my hands as I hear your deep throat moans. As your body moves up and down I can feel your body against my hardened shaft. The head slips inside you for just a second. Then slides up and through your honey patch. Then it slides against your silky stomach. 

You move up and down. Faster and faster. You hold us together harder and harder. Each time I feel your honey lips slide around my penis ... for just a moment and then gone .. my heart beats even faster.

Oh, but his writing was so romantic, such a turn-on to read. I tingled and felt wet as I read this piece. He had such a way with words. To me he was truly a talented writer. I eagerly awaited the next episode of the joint story. I was sure his portion would include a wonderful hot and steamy love scene. The first story we had planned had fallen by the wayside, but he said he still wanted to write this one as well, when he had more time. 

Finally part four arrived and since I already knew my ending I wasted no time in setting it in motion. He had a birthday that week too, and since my only gift could be one of words, I wrote a special story for him. I sent his birthday present early because I was so impatient to get his reaction. He said he truly loved it, and would say more about it in another e-mail. 

Soon I had completed the last part of the joint story and sent it off to him the day before his birthday. I eagerly awaited his reply, so that we could discuss the way the story had turned out, the development of the characters, the various scenes, and a myriad other little details about the story. Back came his reply, “I liked it. I was surprised by the ending though. I’ll write more by Monday.” 

I never did hear from my pen pal again. By then we had been corresponding for exactly three months. Remembering how he had been irritated earlier when I worried about his lack of correspondence, I did nothing for one week. Then I sent a short note simply saying, “Are you all right?” No answer. I waited another week, and then wrote saying, “I’m seriously worried now.” Still no response. Another week slid by, and the flag on my mailbox was never raised, at least not from him. 

I saw an announcement in the local newspaper that a psychic who specialized in talking to people who had died, would be giving a lecture. I attended the lecture. She stopped next to me and said, “Has anyone here lost a friend in a boating accident?” Nobody said anything. She repeated it and looked at me. So I heard myself saying, “Well I have a friend who I haven’t heard from in a while, and he usually goes sailing every weekend.” She looked hard at me, and then said, “I’m sorry.” I was filled with dismay and grief. Was this why I had not heard from my pen pal in so long? Had he really died in a boating accident? At the end of evening she called me over, and I asked her how I could find out if my friend really had died. She suggested checking with his family, but that wasn’t possible, I didn’t know his family and knew only his first name. We had been playing a game where he wanted me to guess his last name, but I wasn’t being too bright and never did figure it out. Now I wished I had been smarter. 




My Missing Pen Pal



That night I cried, and grieved that such a compassionate person should be taken from this world so early in life. 

The next day I called the Coast Guard in his area and asked them if they had any reports of boating accidents involving a boat bearing the name he had given me. They were very kind and didn’t seem to think this was an unusual question, but no, there were no reports of people lost at sea on the weekend I had last heard from him. For some reason I still held onto the belief that he was alive. If he was though, why wasn’t he writing to me any more? Perhaps he was sick and in the hospital? What could have happened to him? He had always said he would never want to hurt another person and he was the one who had suggested the commitment of letting the other person know if one of us wanted to end the correspondence.

One month after my last note from him, I woke up early and found myself drawn to the computer again. I had not been able to write stories all this time. This day I went back into the web site and looked up his name again. Sure enough, it had been updated just one week earlier. He was still alive, so that was good, but he still wasn’t writing to me. I checked the web site again a few days later and there was one of the stories he had written “especially for me” just posted. I felt betrayed, how could he have done this to me? What had I done to make him act this way? I wrote again to him at the new e-mail address that went with his author’s site, saying “I don’t mind if you don’t want to correspond any more, but I think you should at least tell me why!” Still no response. I became angry and wrote again venting my feelings, then begging, “Please just write to me one more time and tell me WHY!” The next week the special story I had kept in the bathroom cabinet appeared in print for everyone to read. 

That was when I decided to submit my own stories for publication. I would send in the stories I had written especially for him too. I wondered how would he feel when he saw the stories I wrote for him in print? I e-mailed him and said that if he didn’t reply I was assuming ownership of the joint story. No response.

So, at least I know my former pen pal is alive and well in cyberspace somewhere. I would still like to know why he doesn’t want to write to me any more, but there is no point in dwelling on this forever. I have made some new pen friends since then and they are equally as interesting, and I am learning much from them too. 

From my first pen pal I learned never to trust anyone you meet in the big city known as The Internet. I learned to harden my heart and suffer rejection quietly. I will not become so attached to someone again that’s for sure. 

However, he did give me the courage to write my stories down. Since I started to do that I have received many positive feedback letters from readers who enjoy them. This brings me great joy, and for that gift I will always be grateful to My Missing Pen Pal.



My Missing Valentine



I've gotten past all that "happily ever after" stuff. I'm never going to be the beautiful princess. I think I look pretty good for thirty-five (there, I said it), other than not enough boobs and too much butt. And I know there's no charming prince out there with a happily ever after in his pocket - my first husband cost me that illusion. Pete's no magical hero, but he's real and he's crazy about me and I trust him and that's enough - and more than I ever had before. I'll never live in that castle, either. When Pete was out of work for so long, we almost lost the place we have. I guess I'm kind of a velveteen rabbit. I've been through enough stuff that all the cute bits fell off and the shine got scuffed. I'm real now. Except for one thing. The five year old princess in me still wants something special on Valentine's Day, and has always had enough to put the right kind of smile on her face.

This is the year I don't get it. 

Pete got a great job, hunting for almost a year. The base pay is good, the incentive bonuses come often enough that we kind of count on them now, and he can bicycle down to the local office. We have medical and dental coverage, and we're paying off the debt that built up. The problem is, he has to travel a lot. Right now, he's so many time zones away that he can't even call, since our off-work hours don't line up. That's not the problem, really. The real problem is that he has to travel today, February fourteenth. I'm alone on Valentine's day. It just hits me at some low, visceral level that won't listen to reason. There was only one special, magical day left in my life, and now that's gone.

I leave work as soon as I decently can. I know this disappointment is childish and irrational. And, after today, I'm pretty sure that I'll never feel it again, even if I remember feeling it some times. I just want to go home, close the door, and wait for it to be tomorrow. 

And, maybe worst, I might have to face Pete. He calls every day when he's on the road, or almost every day. He'll try to call today, between meetings, and I'm not going to cry. He waited too long and worked too hard for this job, I'm not going to let some pink, childish fantasy get in the way of having a really good life with him. He deserves better and I deserve better. So, I'll go to bed early and tell that sad little pain inside to shut the hell up. 

I really don't welcome the knock on the door, but answer it anyway. A young guy in a uniform stands there, with two big boxes beside him. "Ms. R-" he stutters, "Ms. Rah-meer?"

"That's Rohmer," like 'roamer.' I've heard worse, though. "I'm very sorry, but I'm not buying today."

"Ms. Rohmer, I'm not selling. I'm just here to drop these off." I look again. The two boxes are big coolers, one red and one blue. The young man's jacket has a "Chef to go" logo on it, one of the fancier catering-slash-private chef services in the area. 

"There must be some mistake."

"That's Sarah Rohmer," he pronounces it right this time, "at ...," the address is correct. 

"Uh, yes, but I don't understand." 

"Sorry, ma'am, but I don't get paid enough for understanding. Cold stuff is in the blue cooler, warm things in the red one. Oh, and I'm supposed to give you this." He holds out an envelope with Pete's handwriting on it. "You can get the coolers back to us any time this week, or call and we'll come by. Enjoy!"

He turns away muttering, "She'd better enjoy. That's the biggest ..."

"Wait." I'm not ready for this. My purse sits next to the door. I can only find a ten near the top, so I fold it small and press it into his hand. "Thanks, really, it's just that you took me by surprise."

He glances into the little wad with the practiced eye of someone who lives on tips. His eyes get big, and he says, "Thank You, Ms. Rohmer!" He pockets the bill with sleight-of-hand ease, and jaunts down the walk.

I pull the two heavy coolers inside and open the envelope. The card shows a photo from the temple at Kajuraho. The carven female figure winds intimately around the male one. She certainly has my hips, even if I don't have her boobs. Something low in my pelvis twitches at the image. I open the card and read, "Hey, sweet one," a name he only ever uses in bed, "I wish I could be there today, tonight. My thoughts are there, even if I'm not."

"Please go along with my thoughts, I hope you'll like them. There's a bottle of wine in the 'cold' cooler, and a present for you in the back of the towel closet." I dither for a moment. Pete had left days ago, and left a present, hidden where I might find it at any moment! But I hadn't found it. The cooler sits closer, so I look inside. A champagne bottle's neck stands up from the ice. I get the hint that I'm not supposed to dig deeper - the present has something to do with it.

Curiosity gets the better of me. I open the package before I open the bottle. Inside, I find things that I least expected as presents. One is one of our every-day wine glasses, another is one of our candlestick holders, with candle (new at least) and matchbook (used), and one of our Vivaldi CDs. Also, he had thrown in one of my romance novels. Well, ero-mance, really, the kind with a lot of black on the cover and a slash of red, the kind I usually end up reading one-handed when he's away on business. I feel myself blush down to my chest. I didn't know he knew about these - I wasn't keeping them secrets (so I tell myself), not really. He had picked one of my steamy favorites. I think the dog-ears and pages that flops open give it away. At the bottom of the box lie some of my bath beads (a present of my own stuff again!), another package, and a note. 

"Sweet one, you've had a long day, I'm sure. Turn off the phone, lock the door, and pretend you're not home. Have some wine, take a nice hot bath, and save this package for after your bath. I'm thinking of you."

I resist the urge to rip that little, soft bit of gift-wrap open. Truth is, he had just told me to do what I really want to do most. I put the CD on and turn it up loud enough to hear from the bathroom. I pour a glass of bubbly, then take book, glass, bottle, and candle to the bathroom. I run the water just a little too hot, squeeze in the scented liquid as it runs, and undress. 

The bathroom is filled warm, fragrant air when I get back, even with the door open so I can hear. Maybe it's not real romantic, but I set the candle on the toilet cover and light it, where I can see it when I lie in the bathtub. Lord, I haven't taken a real lie-down bath in ages! I can't remember which Vivaldi piece I'm listening to, but I like the pace. Each piece starts slowly, then builds to a frenzied crescendo of violinists who drink way too much coffee. 

The funny thing is, the music matches the pace of the book. (NO! I won't tell you the title. I still like to think of myself as respectable.) Each of the short stories starts slowly, then builds to a steamy peak within a few pages, right along with the music. At those moments, the touch of bathwater seems especially vivid. I scrunch down a little and splash so the waves bounce against my nipples. More than once, I find one hand covering my pubic hair.

The next present intrigues me. It's small and soft, wrapped in bright tissue paper and hot-pink ribbons. I stand up, step out of the bath, and turn out the light. The candle flickers but lights the room, enough to dry off at least, and casts a warm glow over everything. I look up and startle. There is a picture on the wall of a fine-featured woman with a vulnerable look, clutching herself in a protective gesture, lit from below by an amber glow.

A second later, my rational mind kicks in. It's the mirror, it's me. I go back to drying myself. Still, that unfamiliar instant sticks in my mind. The image has locked in, that delicate and vulnerable woman, before I identified myself. Something odd struggles in my mind, trying to resolve that fragile beauty with Sara who farts. I look back at the candle-lit mirror. For one fleeting instant, before my eyes focus, that exotic loveliness appears again - then turns into me. I don't know the right word. Imagine that "creepy" means something happy and mysterious, it's that good kind of creepy.

I unwrap the flimsy little package, with occasional glances up to the mirror. Not always, but once in a while, I get that discordant look again. 'Patrician breast' or too-small boobs. 'Ceramic features' or lost in the crowd mousiness. 'Womanly fullness,' or hips that don't wear the same size of bikini my top does. 

Inside the package, I find lingerie. I don't wear lingerie. I wear underwear. When it gets too many holes in it, I replace it. I hold these two pieces in one hand, close my small fist, and hide them completely. This isn't me. I hold the two pieces up, though. A silvery camisole has spaghetti straps that come down almost too low - if I had a 'perky' figure, it would be too low. Black, silky tap pants don't come up as high on my waist as I expected, or as low on my thigh. I dust with powder so the thin fabric wouldn't stick, then accede to Pete's request. I put them on. I feel like a frickin' fool, until I look into the mirror.

Something happens then, I don't know what. That silvery top shows a soft and responsive bust - the word 'sag' never even occurs to me. The shortie shorts show wide, womanly hips. When I stand side-on to the mirror, I see deep, muscled thighs, not a fat butt. Some weird thing happens, as if I wasn't seeing with my own eyes. It almost scares me into a 911 call, but I like it. Whatever it is, I want to see it as it sees me. A folded scrap of paper falls out of the package, along with a CD. I take the note and CD out into proper light and read the outside. "Please read this after supper." Some sense of honor kicks in, like not reading someone's diary. I put the CD in, something dark and sensual by Pink Floyd. Hey, it works for me.

I admit, the silky bits tickle as I look into the coolers. Something big with garlic and mushrooms come out of the red one, and some vegetables, and a foil-wrapped package labeled 'dessert.' I also find soup, some veg, and a lengthy list of more stuff. The blue cooler, with ice in it, has butter for the warm bread, salad, a cold veg, and another package labeled 'dessert'. Everything comes on nice plastic plates and dishes labeled 'dishwasher and microwave safe,' but the delivery guy said they wanted only the coolers back. 

Our table for two is covered by the time I empty the coolers. Half of what comes out is 'comfort food,' warm and soft. The other half is extravagant luxury.

I still have the wanking book (well, that's what it is) in my hand as I sit to eat. The camisole turns into silky teases across my nipples, panties turn into an exercise of what I can squeeze against where. They had soaked through long before dessert - I'm glad that the wooden chair's finish can take the wetness.

Hot food is hot, cold food is cold, my clothing caresses me, and my reading seduces me. It suddenly strikes me: I'm solitary but no way lonely. And, that other note still waits for me.

Pink Floyd winds down to some dark, gut-wrenching note just as I finish eating, or decide I'm done. I put the food away but leave the dishes in the sink. I'm too eager to read the next note. 

Another card, a black and white photo of a couple, the most elegant image of sex I have ever seen. My hand brushes my own nipple unconsciously and I realize it had tightened to a firm nub - a "raspberry," as Pete would say. I linger over that picture and brush again before I open the card to read it.

"Sweet one, there's another package for you, in the Christmas closet." That's the one where we store the seasonal decorations. I usually open that door about three times a year. "There's a voice recording on your phone, too. Thinking of you!" Next to his scrawled name, he had drawn a little graffito of a smiling penis spurting. I laugh.

My phone's right at hand, so I open that first. Pete knows I never use all these fancy features, so it takes me a moment to navigate into the voice recordings. When I do, I see one message labeled 'Lover lady.' 

"Sweet one," it starts. I feel a twitch low in my belly, and feel the panties tug against me when my legs cross. "Think of me having raspberries and cream for dessert!" I certainly have raspberries for him, and the 'cream' oozes out of me. 

I play it a few times on my way to the Christmas closet, just to hear his voice. A box covered in pink paper sits on the floor. Too eager to bring it downstairs, I plop down right there and tear the paper off. 

It contains smaller packages, individually wrapped and numbered. Number one holds a small, framed picture of Pete, with a message on a yellow sticky note: "Bring me to bed with you, I want to watch." I take the hint and bring the box with the rest of the presents down to the bedroom. I set his picture on the bedside table, facing me. Then I sit on the bed, feeling like a girl at a slumber party, and open number two. Candles again, with some cute, solid-looking glass holders. I light them and turn out the overhead. They give plenty of light, especially when my eyes adapt to their warm glow. Number three holds a little box of Godiva chocolates. I nibble at one, to draw out the enjoyment. Number four contains a vibrator, the kind that straps to the back of your hand. I'm not so sure about this one, but it slips on easily. The buzzing goes all through my fingers, and I just have to try it.

I lie back and slide my hand under the dark panties. I'm so turned on I was going to masturbate anyway, but this adds a whole new feeling. I always thought those plastic sex toys looked kind of gross, but this is just my hand - with a little extra. At first, I just cup my vulva, feeling its warmth. I feel its fullness, too, the kind that only happens when I'm excited. The vibrator makes my hand into something more, though. I skip the usual steps in my solo play, and press two fingers against my vagina, not inside but pressing hard. The feeling is beyond belief. I look over at that picture of Pete again, at his wide smile. Then I realize it's the same smile as when he sees me getting turned on. I look away for a moment, as my body squirms with the new feelings.

I notice, then, that the closet door had swung open. It happens again. I see an image on the back of the closet door: a face in the candle light, her mouth half open in a sexual moan, breasts bobbing softly under a silver, silken cover, nipples silhouetted by the candles. My body responds to that glowing sexuality with a deep quiver and tension all through my pelvis, before I recognize myself in the mirror. I feel it inside, I'm getting close to orgasm, but I had never seen myself in that state before. I look back to Pete's smile, and it pulls my tingling fingers to my clitoris. When that huge, nameless swell rises up inside me, I shift my hand. The heel of my hand grinds against my clit, rocking its thickness against the firm bed below it, and a buzzing finger pierces my vagina. My body curls around that massive feeling, and I glimpse myself in the mirror again. This time, I see both things: a delicate face lying beside heaving breasts, moaning its way through the deepest orgasm in months, and plain old Sara. I press my finger deeper and curl its buzzing upward, and see the orgasm grasp that slender body even tighter. After a moment, I see shoulders unfold by stages, with occasional waves of tension still passing through them. I lie there, gasping, my hand still holding my vulva, enjoying the aftershocks and watching them strike the face in the mirror. I look back to Pete's picture. 

Suddenly, I know a lot more about that smile. I still can't admit it to myself. The plain old Sara inside me has little patience for the thought, but it keeps sneaking back. I see something incredible in myself, as if it weren't really myself, and I love it. I look back to the mirror, but it's gone. I have the strangest impression that the beautiful face I had seen is still in there, waiting behind a layer of glass for the right moment to return.

My whole body was vibrates like a guitar string. Suddenly, that buzzing near my clitoris becomes unbearable. I flick the vibrator off and rub my swollen genitals. Then I remember one more package in the box.

I feel as if I can barely move. I roll onto my stomach and drag the box over. I pull the last gift-wrapped parcel out and bat the empty box off the bed. The bright ribbon and paper come off easily, and I open it.

It is beautiful. It's proportions and organic curves draw my hand. My fingers slide over the slick, shiny finish on the wood. I never thought a dildo could be this gorgeous. A note in the box says, "From the apple tree and me."

During his long unemployment, Pete started woodworking again. We had lots of wood scraps, so it cost almost nothing. We also had a trunk from the apple tree that had collapsed after an ice storm - I guess this lovely toy was made from that. He had turned some very nice things on the lathe, but I hadn't known about this. To tell the truth, I probably wouldn't have approved. I'm glad that I hadn't known. My body is still humming, and the toy is what I hadn't known I wanted. I notice a little bottle of lubricant in the box with it. I'm so wet it seems redundant.

I don't even bother to take off the panties, I want it now! I tug one of the legs wide open, and touch the tip of the toy to the crevice between my labia. It slides in easily enough, and I press it low into the softness of my body's entry. I love the firm, cool thickness, but the lube suddenly seems like a good idea. I dribble a little onto the tip of the toy, play with it again, and alternate between putting more on the toy and pressing the slickness inside me. 

After three or four transfers of slippery stuff, the rounded tip of the narrow toy presses against that ring of muscle, the point that defines "inside." The smooth knob gently opens the resisting ring, and slides easily to where the rod narrows. A deep breath rushes out, and I explore the unfamiliar feeling. I rock the toy back and forth a little, feeling the width of the leading knob widen inside me, then press again. Even this little depth feels incredible. 

My other hand moves to my clit again, and rubs at an easy pace. That much seems familiar, but slickness from the toy and the fullness inside makes it into a new experience. (I'll be keeping that stuff around from now on.) The rod is barely inside me, but I can already feel an orgasm starting to build around it. I press it deeper. The next bulge along its shaft spreads me open, then lets me close around it as the wide part passes. Something grabs my whole body below the waist and squeezes - I feel every muscle tighten, down to my curled toes. That firm, stiff toy inside me seems to be at the center of it all. I work the next bulge into me, and feel something all the way inside, something I've almost never felt. I pant over that deep intrusion, shifting it against my inner muscles.

I let go - the bulge holds it inside me - and reach out across the empty bed. My fingers knot in the sheets as my other hand plays between my labia. Pete's candle-lit picture smiles across at me, and I suddenly feel him inside. I know that touch is the hard wooden toy, resisting the muscles tightening around it, but it's his touch, too. Another wave rises up inside me, fighting against that firm phallus, and I writhe on the bed.

I look over at the closet again, and that dim, delicate face looks back at me. I see the beauty of excitement in that face again. I know, too, that the body I see there is pierced, deeply, with an erotic toy. The wooden peg that I know moves inside her seems to pin her to the bed, to hold her in place while it builds her inner excitement.

My free hand moves to the dildo and presses just a little more, just short of what could be pain. I see eyes and mouth pop open, in a surprise that goes on and on. Short gasps rock her chest as the toy takes her over from inside. She seems trying to say something, to give me something, as if the coming orgasm is dedicated to me. Then she comes. I lose sight of her when my head and hips press down into the mattress, then curl upward. Even after the first waves of orgasm rock me, it continues to build. I have no idea how long it goes on, time doesn't mean anything. That hard resistance inside becomes part of me, an essential part of this intense moment.




My Missing Valentine



It doesn't end all at once. Something that big can't. It departs by stages, leaving me half gasping, half laughing in a happiness too big to hold in. Pete smiles at me, enjoying the moment he has just given me. The face in the mirror looks back limply, happily bedraggled, and I smile at the knowledge that the beautiful woman is still filled inside.

Beautiful? Did I really say that? I look again. Beautiful. Yes, that is the word. Then I see Sara, too. This time, the beauty stays. I don't dare take my eyes off the image, afraid that the beauty will go away. I need to take the toy out, though, or I'll be sore. I feel each bulge pass, then the end of it, but a little of the open feeling remains. I wipe the dildo dry with a silly shyness about the picture or mirror seeing me do it - I'll clean it later. Then I lie down again and look in the mirror.

Sara is still beautiful. I don't know how it happened, but I see something in the mirror I have never seen before. Is that what Pete sees when he looked at me? It certainly matches his description, those words I always figured for loving little fibs. The magic remains.

I was afraid the magic would die alone, on this day by myself. Instead, I know it will live forever. Thank you, Pete, for giving me me. 



My Mistake



I've frequently received criticism that my stories are too long and take too many words to say the same thing. This is probably true as I do love the written word. So for those of you, this is my one attempt at writing a short Loving Wives tale.

Edited by LadyCibelle. My thanks and I hope she'll continue with me for a while.

My Mistake

Yesterday I spoke with a nice young doctor who had a lot of letters after his name. He was a Psychiatrist, one of the real doctors of the head. We spoke and this is what I told him. 

Thank you Doctor for listening to me. I don't know what to do or where to go. I just want to kill myself so I can stop feeling this pain in my chest and stomach. My medical doctor says there's nothing wrong with me. Maybe he's right, at least with my body. But my head is a different matter. Please, let me tell you what happened. Then maybe you can help me find a way to live with it. 

My name is Dee Mallock and I'm married to Peter Mallock. We've been married now for over ten years and we have no children. That's my decision. I told Pete before we married that I didn't want kids and he agreed, although I knew he wanted them. I can't tell you why I didn't but it was probably buried somewhere in my subconscious. Anyway, I've practiced birth control via the pill for all our marriage. Except for two months ago and that was my mistake. I forgot and my prescription expired. I got it renewed but I needed to wait a month to get back on schedule. Pete and I made love of course, but I was always careful not to do so during my fertile times, even when I was on the pill unless, of course, we got carried away. So what happened? 

Well, Pete came home two months ago and told me he had a brain tumor. He was really broken up about it since there was a good chance it could kill him. I was horrified and I think Pete had to work some just to calm me down. He had the tumor but I was almost hysterical. Anyway, we talked the entire day making contingency plans and all that you do when something like this happens. And then we went to bed and made love. Actually, it was more like a frenzy of lust and love all mixed together. Most of it was fear on both our parts but the sex was absolutely fantastic. We continued all night and well into the morning, but it seemed to help both of us to renew our love and our commitment to each other. I certainly never remembered about the pills. Not then.

Well, that's part of the story. The other part, the part that I have to tell you even though it makes me sick now, is that at that same time, I was having an affair with Pete's business partner, Jacob Platt. It was a silly thing, lasting only a few weeks, and wasn't even much about the sex. I don't even remember how it started but it had nothing to do with Pete or the way I felt about him. He had always been an excellent lover. So, I'm still trying to understand how it started. It isn't important now, but with the news of Pete's tumor, I decided to end it immediately. I had suddenly been given a wake up call of what was important in my life and who I loved. That was Pete! Only Pete! What I had with Jacob was dirty and trivial, and now a thing of the past.

I did it the very next day. I had a planned rendezvous with Jacob and I kept it. We met at the Palm Desert Motel the next afternoon. I told Jacob about Peter and that our affair or whatever the hell it was, was over and he accepted the news without much sympathy. As a matter of fact, he forced himself on me that day with threats of exposure to Pete. I agreed to this last tumble but never again. Jacob agreed and we had sex. Actually, I laid there while Jacob used my body, and that was when I felt like the slut I had been. Just dirty afterwards! But I was free of Jacob and I swore never again. Never again would I jeopardize my marriage. 

Over the next several weeks, under doctor's orders, Pete began to prepare for the surgery. There were vitamins to take, a diet to begin, exercises he wanted Pete to do and a number of things we had to plan for afterwards. We worked like the team we were and it was a good time in spite of the reasons. It pulled us together and made us stronger. It took most of two months to complete before they would schedule the surgery. The doctor who was going to do it gave us the whole spiel making sure we understood everything and we agreed. It was scheduled for the next day.

Doctor Wallace took me aside and told me in no uncertain terms that Pete's condition was borderline. The cancer hadn't spread and there was a good chance that he could get it all during the operation. If he did, Pete could have a good chance at a full recovery. But, and this was critical he said, Pete had to want to live! Since the tumor was in the brain, close to the frontal lobe, his behavior would be affected. If he had a positive outlook, it would be so much better. Depression or even a deep sadness would be almost a death sentence. He wanted to know how things were at home. I assured him that I loved my husband, he loved me and we were a team. I promised myself that I would do nothing else to give him cause for distress. 

A week later the operation was judged a success, at least medically. Now it was up to Pete. I was with him when he woke the first night and he did recognize me which was good. He seemed in good spirits but I was unable to joke much, being so worried. We talked, assured each other that the news was good and Pete started to mend. It was slow, but he was trying. I could see the part his mental condition played. When he was upbeat, the difference was striking. When the pain got him down, he looked terrible. So, I worked on his mind, kidding, telling him funny stories of people we both knew, anything to make him laugh. 

But then, a gift! I couldn't wait till the next day when I could see Pete! I had such great news! News that should do what all the doctors in the world couldn't: make my husband Pete get better! What news you ask? The little stick that I took into the bathroom with me that night had two lines, crossing each other. That was the sign for positive. I was pregnant! Pregnant with Pete's baby! Sure it was due to a mistake on my part, running out of birth control pills, but this mistake was going to be a lifesaver. I was so pleased with this result that I danced around the house, blessing my mistake.

I went into the hospital the next day, visited with Pete for awhile, noticing that he was in a great deal of pain and bided my time. I wanted the announcement to be just perfect, made at just the right time. So, I waited. Lunch came and went and Pete's meds kicked in and he began to perk up a little. I left for a while then came back to share dinner with him. He looked very good. Better than he had for some time. I decided then that the time was right.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand in mine. Looking deep into his eyes, I spoke. "Pete, my darling. I have an announcement that you're going to love. I know we didn't plan it but I made a little mistake that is going to make you very happy." I paused for effect, watched the question grow in his eyes and then gave him my present.

"Congratulations Peter. You're going to be a daddy! I'm pregnant! I'm going to have a baby and it will need its father. So, your job is to get well as soon as possible." 

My huge grin faded as I waited for his response and I was surprised when he failed to smile. I watched his face carefully and saw tears form in his eyes. That shocked me but I felt that he was simply overcome with emotion. My hope that he would recover much more quickly started to fade when he turned away from me and closed his eyes. I was about to say something more when he spoke.

"Dee, I want you to do me a favor. At home, in the top drawer in my desk on the right hand side, there is an envelope. Please bring it back with you tonight when you come." These words were not what I expected. And what did he mean tonight. I was already here.

"Pete, there's no reason for me to go home. I'm staying until visiting hours are over. And why are you being this way? Aren't you happy? You'll be fine by the time the baby is ready to come. You just have to get. . . ." I was interrupted by an angry Peter.

"Please, Dee! Just do as I ask! Please get the envelope and then come back. Then we can talk." With that he turned away from me and I was left in shock. What had gotten into him? I had no idea, but I decided to humor him and go home and get the envelope. 

All the way home and back I tried to understand what was going on. Peter had always wanted children and now he was going to be a father. Why couldn't he simply accept that? What was his problem? Was he afraid he wouldn't survive to see the baby? That was nonsense. I would talk him out of that in short order. Pete was going to recover. This had to be good news if he could just accept that he was going to get well and become a great father. 

I went into his room on my return with the envelope in my hand. "Alright Mr.! I got the envelope. Now, what's so damn important that you can't understand that you have a baby to get ready for? You're going to be the father you've always wanted to be." 

Pete took the envelope from me, opened it with shaking fingers and reached in to pull a single sheet of paper from it. He looked at the sheet, closed his eyes for a second and then handed it to me.

"This was going to be my present to you for our anniversary next month Dee. I did it six months ago and kept it secret, waiting for all the tests to be in. Read it now if you will."

I took the sheet, saw the name of Pete's Urologist on the top and then scanned down toward the bottom. I saw the numbers printed there and the legend right next to it. It said,

Procedure successful. Motility count zero. No live spermatozoa. 

Pete's quiet voice broke through the roaring in my head. "I had a vasectomy done for you so that you could stop the birth control pills. I knew how much you hated taking them and you never wanted children so, because I loved you so much, I did that. I can't be the father of the baby you're carrying."

I broke down then. I cried and pleaded with him to listen to me but he simply looked away from me, out the window. A nurse came in apparently at his call and asked me to leave. I refused but she called security and they took my arms and drug me from the room. I was screaming for Pete but he never answered.

I tried for the next three days to get back in to see him but the hospital said I was forbidden to enter his room or even his floor. They had me escorted out twice before I finally gave up. Pete wouldn't take any calls from me either. I was determined to get in to see him and on the forth day, I walked into the reception area of his doctor's office and demanded to see him.

Without any fuss, he walked out of his office to face me. "Yes Mrs. Mallock? What can I do for you?"

"I demand to see my husband. There's been a terrible mistake and I have to see him right away to explain. I have to see him. Please, please let me see him." I went quickly from demanding to begging because I had no choice. I had to see Pete to explain and to beg him to forgive me. I would do whatever he wanted me to do, but I had to see him.

Doctor Wallace simply stared at me for a few seconds before finally shaking his head. He put his hands on my shoulders and asked, "Weren't you told? Your husband died this morning. I'm very sorry, but his condition began to fail four days ago and we were unable to reverse it. He's gone. I'm so sorry. I thought you were notified."

So that's my story Doctor. I killed my husband with the announcement of my pregnancy. He knew immediately that he wasn't the father, but I had no idea until that instant when I saw the results of his vasectomy. Then I knew. Jacob! I guess the condom I always made him wear broke with his anger that day. 

There's nothing more to tell you. It's been three months now since Pete died and I'm almost five months pregnant with my bastard child.

The young doctor had no real answers for me, just a bunch of platitudes and assurances. He started right in to heal me. First, he told me people didn't die from infidelity. No one dies from a broken heart. There were other things that caused Pete's death and it was not my fault. He said a bunch of other stuff too, most of it meant to help me, I'm sure. I thanked him for listening to me and pretended to consider what he told me. I even scheduled a follow up meeting with him that I had no intention of keeping. 

I know the truth. I killed my husband and I have to live with that. I have to live with the understanding that when he needed me for trust and support, I let him down in the worst possible way. I cut his lifeline with the knife of my infidelity and gave him the last push over the borderline by carrying another man's baby. 

But I'm still here. Me and Jacob's baby. The one that should have been Pete's. I considered abortion but Jacob wouldn't allow it. He has informed me that he intends to be the baby's father legally. He says he has the legal right to be the one to love and protect and nurture. He says he wants to be part of my baby's life from this point on and that I have to get used to the idea. Now that Pete is gone, he will provide the male influence. Well, one thing I can guarantee: that is never going to happen. I know the kind of man Jacob Platt is and no baby deserves that. 

The joy I had when I thought I was carrying Pete's baby is gone, but maybe I can make it right. I'll take my baby to see his true father. Together, we're going to find Pete. 



My Mistake



That night, I went to see if anyone used the parking lot after dark or not. Sure enough, as I entered it, I noticed a car in the corner, out of the sight of the street. Parking down from it, I studied it for a few minutes and noticed a cigarette tip aglow. Waiting for a few more minutes, I slowly got out of my car, walking aimlessly over in the general direction of the car. As I got closer, I heard voices. Two voices. Now caught between leaving or making an excuse and approaching the car innocently, I chose the latter since I knew I was to close to it to turn around.

I greeted them and asked them an inane question, hoping that a simple answer would get me out of the situation in a hurry. The man sitting on the driver's side answered my question, flicking his cigarette out of his open window at the same time. I nodded and looked down at the passenger. I hesitated, not thinking for a moment, as I paused.

In what little light there was, I could see that the passenger had his cock out, his hand rubbing up and down his length as his eyes found mine. He smiled and moved down in the seat a little, exposing himself more. The driver's hand reached over and started running up and down the passenger's legs, stopping at his cock, which was hardening with every caress. 

I looked over at the driver and he was watching me with half closed eyes. Suddenly, he leaned over, his mouth engulfing the hard cock between his friend's legs. The passenger leaned back and groaned as the driver sucked his hard cock. I stood for a moment watching the two of them then reached for my fly, opening it and undoing my pants. My eyes never strayed from the bobbing head in the car. Pulling my hardening cock out of my pants, I started rubbing it while I continued watching.

The passenger looked out the window at me. First he looked up at my face then down at my hand wrapped around my hard cock. Without a word, he lifted his friend's head off his cock and moved to open the door. The driver moved back to his side of the car and waited for me to get into the back seat and his friend to close the door.

I still had my hand wrapped around my cock as they both looked back at me, watching my hand move up and down my length. No one said a word. It was as if we all knew what we were going to do and who was going to do what with who. The driver leaned towards me a little, replacing my hand with his own while his other hand found his friend's cock again. Pumping each of us with the same intensity, his eyes kept moving from me to his friend and back again, searching our faces. 

I leaned back and spread my legs a little wider as he kept caressing us. I lifted my hips off the seat and pulled my pants and shorts down to my ankles. When I did, the passenger reached around his seat and I felt his hand exploring my thighs, running up and down them teasingly. I groaned a little and closed my eyes, savoring the feel of the two of them. 

I opened my eyes in time to see the two of them check the parking lot then the passenger quickly pulled his seat forward and got into the back with me. As soon as the seat moved back forward again, he took his pants off and pushed me into the corner of the back, pulling my pants off as he did. He moved me until I was half-sitting and half-lying on the seat as he hovered above me. I wasn't sure what he was up to but I played along and soon found my self buried deep inside his ass as he bounced up and down on my thighs.

I quickly looked at the driver and he was smoking a cigarette, watching us and outside to see that no one interrupted us. He saw me look at him and smiled.

"Enjoy because I'm next," he said. "It's your lucky day. You get to fuck two guys."

I looked up at the man impaled on my cock and his head was thrown back, his mouth open and his grunts and groans getting louder and louder with every downward thrust. Soon I felt his ass tense up and he let out a grunt before slowing to a stop, my cock still buried deep inside him. When his breathing returned to a somewhat normal rate, he looked down at me then over at the driver.

"Oh, you're going to enjoy this fuck," he said to the driver. "He hits all the right places."

With that he got off me and started to turn around. I helped him and before he could get back into the front seat, I pulled him towards me, his ass inches from my face. With two fingers, I spread his cheeks apart and the tip of my tongue ran up the length of his crack. He groaned and pushed back against my face, embedding my tongue just inside him. I tried to tongue fuck him but he was moving around too much. I kept licking at him, tasting him as my tongue continued up and down his crack. I could hear him moaning above me until I couldn't breath anymore and pulled back away from him.

He looked over his shoulder at me, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Fuck you are something else," he said as he moved around to face me. 

He got between my legs and his mouth engulfed my cock. His mouth was as hot as his ass. I thrust my hips up towards him and felt my head hit the back of his throat. He gagged a little and spat my cock out again. Then moving up he found my mouth, his tongue slipping between my lips. I moaned softly as he explored my mouth, our tongues occasionally fencing as our lips opened wider and wider. As we continued, I felt the driver's hand touch my cock. It was as if we had forgotten about him and he wanted to be part of the action too. I pushed the passenger away from me and looked at the driver. He grinned and as the passenger moved out of the way, pulling his pants back on as he moved to the front seat again, the driver got into the back with me. Soon his pants were off and his cock was buried in my mouth. His hands wrapped around my head and he fucked my mouth with long, steady thrusts, filling my throat with his head. I just leaned back and let him fuck me, enjoying the taste of him. 

Soon he tired of that and moved down between my legs, sucking my cock into his mouth with loud slurps. I didn't move my hips with him. After a few minutes of sucking me, he moved over as far as he could to the other side of the seat and pulled my legs towards him, spreading them as he did. When I was flat on my back across the seat, he lifted my legs over his head and leaned between my cheeks, his hot tongue finding my hole. I groaned. Spreading my cheeks wider, his tongue started up and down my crack, stopping only to push against my opening before continuing on. I groaned several more times as he continued licking my crack because he felt so good. 

Suddenly, he moved over me and I felt his head at my opening. He wanted to fuck me. I could see in his eyes, the animal lust that made his cock twitch as it rested against my opening. I didn't even think about it. I just raised my legs a little higher and little wider apart, inviting him to take me.

He knew exactly what I wanted him to do and soon was pounding in and out of my ass with long fast thrusts. His grunts mingled with mine. I quickly looked over at the passenger and he was up across the seat, watching us intently, his eyes sparkling with lust as we fucked. I turned back to the driver. He grunted loudly one more time and I felt his cock explode inside me. He came with a gush, hot liquid spewing up into me, covering his head and filling my canal. He spurted over and over again, each time I felt it hit me I groaned. God he was hot. When he finished, he looked down at me and half smiled, the sweat beaded on his forehead, ready to drip off him. 

He got off me, giving me room to move out from under him. I quickly turned him around, pointing his face away from me and got up on the seat behind him. Thrusting my hips forward I found his opening with my hard cock and thrust until I felt his thighs against my own. Fully inside him, I waited. He moved a little, wiggling his ass at me, trying to get me to move inside him but I wanted to enjoy the feeling of him first. I waited for several moments before starting to fuck him.

He groaned as I fucked him. The passenger was practically in the back with us and as I turned my head, his face was inches from mine. I found his mouth and plunged my tongue as deep inside him as I could, searching. As I continued fucking the driver, my tongue played and fenced with the passenger's, both of us moaning into each other's mouth, the driver groaning under me as I fucked him harder and harder. I came more than I ever had before, my hot come filling the driver's canal and running out along my shaft. As I pulled out of him, a big gush of come came with me and ran down his thighs to splash on the seat under him. 

After regaining some composure, the three of us just looked at each other for the longest time. Remembering and maybe savoring what we had just done, each of us left to our own thoughts. The smiles on our faces were frozen in place. 

After dressing and getting out of the car, the three of us stood together, touching every so slightly. 

"You really are something else," the passenger said again. "Fuck, when you walked up to the car before, I thought you would bolt when you saw my cock but little did I know."

We all smiled at that. Yeah, little did we all know. 



My Mistake



Thanks to Annafaye in particular for pointing out a few 'Britishisms' in the text here. I've updated and corrected it to get rid of these and a few typos I spotted, but the story's the same. I hope people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And again, if I've got the American vernacular wrong (do New Yorkers say 'really' or 'real' like they do in the West? Is it called a 'ladies room', etc?) please let me know. As anyone who has read 'Local is as Local Does' will know, I'm very keen to get the 'feel' right.

____________________________

It was my own fault. When my boyfriend dumped me I just couldn't keep two thoughts together for five minutes. I knew that the Solomon account was really important to Mr. Taylor, but I completely forgot to tell him that Solomon had called, wanting to talk urgently. It was hours later when Solomon called again. I put him straight through, only then realizing I'd forgotten to give Mr. Taylor the earlier message.

Ten minutes later, Mr. Taylor comes out of his office with a face like thunder. Normally he would have called me into his office for a chat, but he just leaned over my desk and pretty-well shouted at me. "Lois, that was David Solomon. He said he phoned personally and left a message this morning for me to call him urgently. You know what he's like -- he doesn't ask twice. You gave me no message, Lois. As a result, he's just phoned to say he's transferring his account to Schwarz and co. He's our most important client and you've let him slip away. You're fired! Clear your desk and get out!" Then he stormed back into his office and slammed the door.

And that was that. No "what was the problem, Lois?" No "can you explain, Lois?" Nothing. Four years' loyal service ended, just like that.

I was in tears as I shoved all of my things in a crate and made my way to the elevator. This was the best job I'd ever had. Mr. Taylor was demanding, but we always got on well enough. When I got home I cried for about an hour. No job, no reference, and no chance of getting another job as good as this one.

What could I do? I made my mind up to go to Solomon in the morning and explain. I'd beg, I'd grovel if necessary for them to keep their account with Taylor's. If they did that, then just maybe I could get my job back. I phoned Julie, David Solomon's secretary who I'd spoken to on several occasions, and, miracle of miracles, she was able to find me a 15-minute slot in his diary at 10:30 the next day. My one shot -- I had to make this work.

I dressed smartly and professionally, if a little bit glamorously. My best Dior business suit was a little tight across the hips and around the chest, but I felt that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. A smart white business blouse, my best (and only) Manolo Blahnik patent heels, and some carefully applied makeup completed the outfit. I took a long time over doing my hair, putting it up in a very professional-looking style, and took a cab to Wall Street, rather than take the Subway and get mussed-up.

I sat apprehensively outside David Solomon's office, occasionally glancing at my watch. At 10:36 Julie, who had sat behind her desk the whole time, told me to go in.

I'd met Mr. Solomon before, on two or three occasions. He was tall, with a strong, athletic body. Someone told me he'd been in the rowing team at Harvard, and you could believe it. His chest and shoulders were strong and broad, making him look pretty formidable. His jaw was firm and his mouth rarely smiled when I'd seen him in meetings -- though I now remembered that he had smiled a few times at me when I'd been bringing him coffee and showing him into Mr. Taylor's office. His thick black hair was swept back off his face, emphasizing his high cheekbones and those unfathomable dark-brown eyes. He ushered me to a chair opposite his desk, and treated me to one of his rare smiles.

"So Lois -- it is Lois, isn't it? What can I do for you?"

My throat was dry. I sat down, carefully arranging the flared skirt of my Dior suit. "Mr. Solomon. After yesterday's misunderstanding, I wanted to come here directly and apologize to you in person. I'm so sorry for yesterday's mix-up; it was entirely my fault. My boyfriend dumped me two days ago, and my concentration was completely shot."

"I accept your apology." Again, that rare smile. "So what do you want me to do about it?"

"Mr. Solomon, I'd like you to keep your account with Mr. Taylor. If you can please do that, then Mr. Taylor might take me back on."

"So -- Taylor fired you?"

I nodded. He fixed me with that inscrutable gaze. Then he leaned forward across his desk. "Lois. There's something I need you to do for me. Will you do it?"

"Anything, Mr. Solomon. That job was real important to me."

"Good. Go down the hall, into the ladies' room. Take off your bra, pantyhose and panties and put them in your purse. Then I want you to frig your pussy until you're good and wet. When you're ready, come back to my office. When Julie lets you in, come over to my desk, lift your skirt up, bend over my desk and ask me to fuck you. Can you do that, Lois?"

He said it as if he were dictating a letter or a list of jobs. I was shocked, and for a moment I didn't know what to say.

"Mr. Solomon, I..."

"You did say 'anything'. How important is the job to you now?" Again, that inscrutable look.

My head said "He's toying with you. Don't do it". My heart said "You need the job. It's only a fuck. It's not like you're a virgin." And my pussy said "Actually, he's pretty hot."

"OK, Mr. Solomon. If that's what it takes to get my job back, I'll do it."

He smiled and pressed a button on his phone. "Julie -- postpone my 11 o'clock meeting until this afternoon. Lois here needs to present something to me."

The ladies' room on the executive floor was pretty well-appointed, but I ignored all the colognes and stuff. I went into a cubicle, shut the door and leaned on it. My heart was pounding and my knees felt weak. I wasn't sure I could go through with this. Surely Julie would guess what was going on. Surely everyone would know that Mr. Solomon had fucked this stupid little bitch from Taylor's over his desk. Even if I got the job, they would smirk every time they called me up. But what other choice did I have?

So as Mr. Solomon had asked, I took off my jacket and unbuttoned the blouse. The bra was strapless, so it came off easily and I refastened my clothing, feeling the contact of the crisp cotton against my nipples. I removed my pantyhose and panties. I was a little surprised to find how wet I was already. Perhaps it was the power angle, maybe the fact that he was strong and handsome, but my body was betraying me. At some level or other, I wanted this to happen.

It got worse as I returned to his office. My tight jacket made the cotton blouse rub against my nipples as my breasts bounced. The cool air on my now naked pussy under my skirt felt weird and sexy. But most of all, the thought of what I was about to do made my heart pound and my head reel.

When I got back to his office, Julie was waiting for me. For the first time I noticed she was pregnant. "Hey, when's it due?" I asked, trying to calm myself with some small-talk.

She smiled. "Oh, in about 6 weeks. Do you need any pens for your presentation?"

I was a little flustered. I clearly didn't have any materials with me. Julie would immediately see through this little charade. Then I had an idea. "No -- no thanks, I've got all my materials on a stick." I proudly produced a USB stick from my bag.

Then I thought how ironic that was. In a few minutes it was going to be me on a stick.

"Cool. He's ready for you. Go right in." She smiled -- knowingly, perhaps? I couldn't tell.

As the door closed behind me, the walk across to his desk seemed daunting. He was leaning back in his chair, jacket off, tie loosened, his expression one of amusement. I tried my sexiest walk, stopping across the desk from him. I tried to make eye contact, but couldn't.

"Yes, Lois. What have you got to show me?"

I unbuttoned my jacket, and started fumbling with the buttons of my blouse.

"Take your time, Lois. Don't rush." he said softly.

With my blouse undone, I parted it to show my breasts. They're pretty good, even though I say it myself. My boyfriend before last had paid for some work, and they're a really good shape and size.

"Thank you Lois, very nice. Is that all?"

Is that all? Most guys would have drooled over my titties! But I knew what he wanted. This was it.

I hiked up my skirt around my waist, showing him my neatly trimmed pussy. He showed no reaction, so I moved round to the end of the desk, and just as he had asked, bent forward and put my elbows down onto the desk. "Mr. Solomon. Please fuck me." I said softly, looking down onto the leather surface of the desk.

"Look at me Lois. Ask me again, and ask me nicely."

I looked up, into his big dark eyes. He looked so strong, so powerful, so scary! My throat was so dry I could barely talk. "Mr. Solomon,..."

"Louder."

I tried to keep eye contact, although my voice was wavering. "Mr. Solomon. Would you fuck me, please?"

He smiled and got up from his chair. "I'd be delighted to, Lois." He unfastened his pants and pulled his boxers down. His cock was in proportion to the rest of his body -- long and thick, with a bulbous, circumcised head. It looked pretty impressive from where I was standing bent over with my ass in the air.

He moved round behind me and slipped a finger into my pussy. "Good, Lois. Nice and wet," he said, as if reviewing a letter I'd typed. He opened my thighs wider and pulled my skirt higher up my back.

Then I felt his large cock-head at my entrance, and he immediately started to push. I had to brace myself on the desk. I'm as fond of a big cock as the next girl, but the guy needs to ease it in gently. Mr. Solomon wasn't exactly brutal -- I had one guy with a nine-incher who shoved it in so hard he made me bleed -- but he wasn't going to wait long for me to be ready. I took deep breaths and tried to relax my tight pussy muscles, but the stretch was still a little uncomfortable. 

I gasped a bit when the big head popped inside and my pussy entrance shrank back around his shaft. He was certainly big enough to fill me pretty comprehensively, and the first few thrusts were almost painful, opening me up in a way I hadn't experienced for a while. Vinny, my ex, was a bit of a needle-dick. Oh he could use it OK, but sometimes a girl needs a little more meat to chew on. Mr. Solomon was rather too much to bite off in one go.

After a few long thrusts, it sort of became a little easier, as he stretched me and spread my juices around a bit more. "Nice tight cunt," he remarked, almost like he was just making conversation. It made me feel like such a slut, bent over his desk, taking his dick, with him using crude talk to me in a tone of voice that implied he fucked his secretary every day. Maybe he did. I just prayed this got me my job back.

At first, his only touch -- apart from his cock - was his hand in the middle of my back, holding my skirt up. After a while he moved both hands round to cup my titties and play with my nipples. That felt good. They're sensitive -- even more so since the boob-job -- and I started getting into it. Then he moved one hand down to my pussy, cleverly stroking my clit, and angling his thrusts so that the sensations on my g-spot were -- well, sensational. I started moving with him instead of bracing myself for the next thrust, and now he was moving comfortably -- pleasurably -- inside me, I began to push back to meet his thrusts.

He obviously caught on to what I was doing. "So Lois. You like my cock in your tight little cunt, do you?"

"Yes -- yes Mr. Solomon" I gasped.

"So you won't forget me on the phone again, will you?"

"N -- no sir!"

"Good. Now you're going to come for me like a good little slut, aren't you?"

"Y -- yes sir!" I moaned, because he was right. I was a little slut, fucking a stranger for my job, and yes, he was making me come.

Halfway through my orgasm, as my pussy walls undulated around his thick cock and my clit and nipples sparked and throbbed, I felt him let go. I could feel his dick twitching and pulsing inside me, even with everything else in my abdomen was squeezing and churning.

Both of us had managed to come without making too much noise -- a few stifled moans and groans. Eventually he pulled out of me, wiping himself on an expensive, clean handkerchief, and then passing it to me.

He straightened his clothes as I mopped up most of my juices and went to pass the handkerchief back to him. "Keep it," he said. "Now, make an appointment for tomorrow afternoon with Julie. Bring lipstick."

"But Mr. Solomon. I thought..."

"It's too early yet for me to establish whether you deserve your job back. So far your performance has been very satisfactory, but I need to establish whether you have the appropriate commitment. I'll see you tomorrow. Good day."

Back in the ladies' room, I sat there, his cum dribbling down my thighs, still trembling a little. Partly it was the aftermath of a strong orgasm, but mostly I was upset and angry at how he was using me. I felt he didn't really intend to get me my job back. He really was just toying with me. He intended to fuck me until he'd had enough and then discard me. I couldn't go through with it.

But the next afternoon, I dutifully waited, again in Dior suit and Blahniks - and nothing else -- waiting for my appointment. I'd applied a heavy, red lipstick. I had a pretty good idea what was in store.

Once Julie had closed the door behind me, I took the long walk to his desk. He was examining some paperwork on his desk, and I waited for him to look up. I put down my satchel and this time looked him in the eye.

"Yes Lois? What do you want?"

"I want to suck your cock, Mr. Solomon. Can I, please?"

He smiled. He clearly wanted me to anticipate what today was about, and carry on our little charade from yesterday.

"You may. On your knees, miss."

I'd chosen today to not wear a blouse under the jacket and just to button it higher. I unbuttoned and removed it now -- I didn't want semen on my nice Dior suit. Then I dropped to my knees and crawled under his desk. He didn't move, so I just unzipped him. He was already erect, and I licked him up and down, wetting him with my mouth. He was fully shaven, so it was interesting licking his balls and feeling the velvety skin against my lips.

I had a difficult job getting his cock-head into my mouth and behind my teeth. Once there, my jaw soon began to ache with the effort of keeping so much cock in my mouth. But this was for my job, my career. I had to give him the best fucking blow-job he'd ever had.

Normally I can do deep throat on a guy, no problem. Needle-dick Vinny was forever sticking his meat down my throat, balls-deep, and I could tolerate that. Not Mr. Solomon. That big knob on the end wasn't going through my throat, no matter how hard I tried, and it was beginning to feel bruised and sore.

Then he stuck his hands in my hair and moaned "Suck it, slut! Suck my cock you horny bitch!" And then my mouth filled up with cum so fast I nearly choked -- burst after thick, sticky burst of it. I pulled back enough to allow me to gulp it down, then began to cough. He slowly slid his cock out of my mouth as I spluttered and choked, pulling my head back so he could inspect my face.

"Perfect. You look just like the beautiful slut you are!"

From his desk drawer he pulled a small mirror and showed me my face. Lipstick was smeared around my mouth, my mascara had run down my cheeks where his thrusts into my throat had made my eyes water, and his cum was dribbling down my chin. I felt totally humiliated.

"My private bathroom is through there. Go and clean up."

I grabbed my purse and headed for the washroom. It was pretty luxurious, equipped with all sorts of nice toiletries, including a lot of products laced with the cologne I could smell when I went down on him. I gargled with some mouthwash, then drank quite a lot of water from the faucet. I cleaned up my face and removed the splashes of cum from my titties, and reapplied a little make up. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought "You're being used, you stupid little whore, and you know it. He still won't get you that job back, and today he didn't even make you come!"

I returned to his desk to pick up my jacket. He was sitting behind the desk, studying something on his laptop. I was almost about to swear at him, tell him he was an arrogant, brutish fucker who used and manipulated people for his own selfish ends, but then he looked up and completely disarmed me by smiling.

"Beautiful tits, Lois. Really nice. And a very good blowjob. I particularly liked the way you kept trying to get the head of my dick past your throat -- not many women can do that. Here's a little present for you." He passed me a box, about the size of a large paperback, exquisitely gift-wrapped. "Take it home, open it, then follow the instructions inside. I've already made an appointment for tomorrow's interview. I'll be expecting you at 2. See you then."

And he went back to looking at his laptop screen.

In the cab on the way back, I was in turmoil. Another session -- I'd hoped it would be all over by now, and Mr. Taylor would be welcoming me back. I felt sure he must have already hired someone -- he was useless on his own. There would be a line of girls around the block for my old job. Time was running out.

Back at my apartment, I carefully unwrapped the beautiful present - and was shocked by the contents. Inside were an anal douche set, a tube of lubricant and a butt-plug, with instructions on when to use each of them. I was to be in his office at 2pm, douched, lubed up and with the plug inserted for at least an hour. It was clear that Mr. David Solomon had tried two of my holes and was determined to fuck the third before he cast me aside. The instructions were headed 'Your final assignment'. Did that mean he meant to honor his side of the bargain, or just that after this he was done with me?

The butt plug felt weird and really big in my ass as I tried to walk down to the cab rank. Needle-dick Vinny had -- of course -- tried and succeeded to plunder my ass on several occasions. None of them felt particularly good, but it hadn't been so painful or unpleasant that I never wanted to try it again. But David Solomon was bigger than Vinny -- a lot bigger. In fact, the plug was bigger than Vinny, and I felt full in a strange but not entirely unpleasant way as I shimmied down the sidewalk.

Having a large rubber plug up your ass makes you walk a little differently, and I wondered whether anyone noticed. The cab driver seemed typically nonchalant as I got in, though he probably enjoyed the view down my top as I bent to tell him the destination. I'd chosen something a little more revealing this time; the skirt was shorter and a little more flared, the clingy top slightly see-through, low cut and not disguising my nipples that were already hard.

I have to say that this time, I was already fairly aroused. I'd chosen a dark, lined skirt because, having walked around with the butt plug in for nearly half an hour, I was frankly horny as hell and my pussy was leaking juices. As Mr. Solomon had forbidden panties, and had also ordered that my pussy should be fully shaved rather than just trimmed, the juices had nowhere to go. In the back of the cab I had a surreptitious wipe around, praying that the driver didn't choose that moment to glance in his mirror, but by the time I was outside Mr. Solomon's office I could feel the skirt lining wet against my ass cheeks.

Julie gave me an appraising look and half smiled. "He's expecting you. Go right in," she said. If my previous two encounters with Mr. David Solomon had made me nervous, the thought of what I had to do today was almost giving me palpitations.




My Mistake



As I stepped into his office that day, I remember thinking "This last time and no more. Please God, let him get me my job back after this. If he doesn't, I swear I'll take his cock in my mouth and bite it off!"

He sat there in an open-necked shirt and slacks, watching my progress. "Have you prepared as I ordered, Lois my slut?" he asked, a look of amusement on his face.

"Oh yes, sir!" I'd memorized the script and I knew what he wanted. But I also knew that if I just repeated the things he'd written on the card, he wouldn't be very happy. He wanted me to mean it, wanted me to genuinely believe that my desires were the same as his. At the end of the instructions he'd written "Don't forget what's riding on this." As if I could!

"Show me!"

I removed my jacket so that he could see the outline and shape of my titties through my top. I then lifted my skirt and slowly turned so he could see that I'd complied with his wishes. My bare pussy, now glossy with my copious juices, was framed as he'd demanded by suspenders and stockings. The base of the black butt-plug protruded from my ass, the main body of it snugly inside me. My heels -- not the businesslike Blahniks but some much more outrageous 'fuck-me' shoes I only normally wear to clubs -- showed off my legs to best advantage. When I unfastened the skirt, let it fall to the floor and then stepped out of it, I could see I had his full attention.

The top was selected for a very specific purpose; it fastened with a zipper. By the time I'd slowly unzipped it to the bottom, my titties were almost exploding out of it. Even Mr. Solomon's normally expressionless face was showing some pretty obvious signs of lust, and I -- well I was creaming.

It was weird. I had this strange, out of body experience. I could feel the excitement in my body, welling up as I approached his desk, but it was like I was also looking down on myself, teetering forward on my outrageous heels, in nothing but stockings, suspenders, shoes - and a butt plug. In three days he'd dragged me from executive personal assistant to horny slut in this very office. How much further was I prepared to go? I knew how much further. My insides gave a little jolt and I prepared to say my piece.

"So Lois, my slut; what do you want?"

I went into my extended script.

"Mr. Solomon -- sir. You've pushed your big, fat cock down my throat and right up my cunt over the past 2 days."

"I have."

"Were both holes to your satisfaction, sir?"

"They were Lois." I could see from the bulge in his slacks and the expression on his face that my slutty talk, going beyond the script he'd given me, was having the right effect.

"Now, sir, I want to make the ultimate sacrifice. I want to take that big, monster cock up my tight little ass. I've prepared as you asked, cleaned and lubed my hole just the way you like it. I've stretched it with this big plug. It's ready for you, sir. It's ready for your big cock. Although," and here I paused for a moment, "Even with all this preparation, I know you're going to stretch me so much it hurts."

He wasn't expecting all of this. I was supposed to just ask him to fuck my ass. He seemed to be enjoying my extemporization.

"Are you afraid, Lois, my slut?"

"No, sir. I want you in my ass. I want you to fuck my ass good and deep, take your pleasure from my tight little hole. If it hurts, it's what I deserve for being a bad secretary. Use me, Mr. Solomon. Use my ass like you used my cunt and my mouth. I want to make you come with all my holes."

There! That was at least twice as slutty as he'd asked for, and he was smiling broadly. So far so good. Though if he did what I said and really did pound my ass with that big cock of his, I could see I might regret what I'd just said.

I reached around and pulled the plug slowly out of my ass. The stretch as the thickest part opened my sphincter made me flinch a bit. The plug came out clean, and I lifted it to my face. There was surprisingly no smell of shit -- the sequence of enemas and douches had done their job. As nonchalantly as I could, I dropped the plug on the floor, then bent over the end of his desk, this time with my tits pressed against the leather surface and my ass high up in the air. I reached back and pulled my ass-cheeks apart.

"I'm ready for you to fuck my ass, Mr. Solomon. Please will you let me feel your cock in my ass, just like you let me feel it in my cunt?"

Mr. Solomon did nothing in a hurry, but the way he removed his clothes was distinctly fast. His shirt came off in a matter of a few seconds, and for the first time I got to see his well-muscled body. God, he was hot! He had powerful shoulders and a deep chest, tapering to a slim waist with a firm 6-pack. He then unfastened his belt and slacks and pulled them down really quickly, taking his shoes and socks with them. It was the first time I'd seen him naked, and he was superb! Everything was toned, tanned and terrific; and his cock seemed even bigger and more intimidating when not framed by his clothes.

I kept up my verbal goading, watching his cock twitch as his excitement mounted. "Oh yes, sir. That's a beautiful big dick you have there. Will you please fill my ass with it? Quickly, while my tight hole is still stretched from the plug. If it closes up again, I'm afraid you might hurt me even more, Mr. Solomon. You don't really want to hurt me, do you?"

He took a tube of lubricant from his desk drawer, and I wondered if that was always there of if he'd brought it in especially for me. He covered his cock in a thick coat of lube, then moved round behind me. "Lois, you'll take what I give you. I'm going to stick my cock up your ass and keep fucking it until I fill you up with my spunk. If it hurts, you can cry, but I won't stop. Do you understand, that, Lois?"

When he used my name like that it sounded more obscene than if he'd called me a slut again. It was so personal and so dirty and scary. He squirted more lube into my ass, and that was cold and made me flinch. Then he lowered his cock head, and I felt it brush my asshole, and I thought "Here it comes. Please let him be gentle, please God let him be gentle - at least at first."

And then he thrust hard, but not into my ass. He suddenly changed direction and stuck it in my pussy. I was surprised, and I cried out, perhaps in relief that he had chosen a hole that yielded more easily. He pulled back and shoved in hard twice more. It felt good -- unexpected, very sexy and pleasurable.

Then he pulled right out -- and stuck it straight back in. Twice, three, four, five times. I thought "He was just goading me. He never intended to fuck my ass, he just wanted me to be scared." And he just kept pulling it out and sticking it back in, hard and deep.

He said, somewhat breathlessly, "My, you are a hot little slut, Lois. I saw how slick your pussy lips were when you stripped for me. You're absolutely liquid inside your cunt. Beautiful. You have a beautiful, tight, slippery cunt, Lois."

Two more thrusts, angled to rub hard against my g-spot. This was -- better than I had expected. Better than I could have hoped.

Then he pulled out, and there was no following thrust. My pussy was ready for it, aching for the next one, but it didn't come. Instead, his cock-head arrived at its original destination. "But my Lois-slut says she wants me to fuck her ass, and I'd hate to disappoint a lady -- or even a hot little whore like you, Lois."

And suddenly it was there, pushing hard, forcing me open, wider, wider. I gasped, and he bent closer, still pressing his cock hard into my tightest hole. "Are you going to scream, Lois? If I hurt you, are you going to cry out?"

For the first time that day I was properly frightened. I'd played his game, got myself psyched-up to take his cock in my ass, set aside my concerns about pain, told myself the plug and the lube would make it OK. Then he'd unexpectedly fucked my pussy, and while he'd hardly been gentle, the sensations were good and the relief at not having my ass pounded had made me feel even better.

But now! Oh my God, the stretch was getting worse. That big cock-head that felt so good in my pussy was now tormenting my poor little asshole. My gasps were becoming sobs. This was really beginning to hurt.

"Sir," I moaned. "If you're not gentle, it'll hurt, real bad. It's hurting now, Mr. Solomon. Oh- it hurts! I might -- I might -- scream!"

He clapped a hand over my mouth, and slid the other one into my sopping pussy. He stopped shoving with his cock, pulling back a little and frigging my clit with his fingers. The pain eased for a moment, but after only a brief pause he started pushing again. It wasn't quite so bad this time, as he'd picked up some more lube on the back-stroke and the clit treatment felt good, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience.

Then suddenly he was through, and there was almost an audible 'pop' as my tight ring closed around his shaft and the big head slipped inside. I cried out, my voice muffled by his hand, and he grunted. "Now I'm in your tight ass at last, Lois. Can you feel my cock in there?"

Could I feel it? It was like someone trying to shove a baseball bat up me. I realized I was sobbing with the relief that he was no longer going to tear my asshole apart with his big cock head, and was just going to shove well over eight inches of hard meat into my backside. I wasn't expecting this to feel good; I just wanted him to get what he wanted now, and for it not to hurt too much more.

But he just kept still, frigging my clit, waiting for me to respond. I caught my breath at last and kept up the script. "Oh sir, please. It feels HUGE in my ass, so big and hard. My tiny ass is so tight. Please try not to hurt me -- please fuck my ass gently, Mr. Solomon."

"Lois, I told you I'm going to fuck your ass just as I please. If you scream, I'll make it hurt more. So just pull your ass-cheeks apart as wide as they'll go and ride my cock." 

And in truth I had no choice. If he pulled out now -- not that he was going to -- it would hurt as much as when he went in. My best chance now to avoid more pain and even -- dare I hope - get some pleasure was to go with it and let him fuck my ass.

Mr. Solomon eased his way in, slowly pushing, gently withdrawing, then pushing again, inch by scary inch. But the funny thing was, it didn't really hurt that much. I can't say that it was exactly comfortable, especially when he finally got all the way in and I had almost nine inches of cock in my ass, but the stretching pain I felt at first subsided as he went deeper. All the while, he was frigging my clit rather nicely, so I couldn't really complain. When he realized I wasn't going to scream after all, he moved his other hand from my mouth and slid it under the nearest titty, stroking my nipple.

Well I'm a sucker for nipple and clit play. (Quite literally, as I've given more blowjobs than I care to remember as rewards for a guy doing that to me.) As I felt the pleasure building from the other places, I sort of relaxed more around the meat in my ass.

Gradually he started to ease his cock back and forth, short strokes and slowly at first, then a little longer and faster, until I got most of his length on each stroke. When he started to pull out at the back of the stroke, I was afraid he'd hurt me again, but this time the stretch felt good -- sexy even. He kept teasing, tugging at my tight ring with his big cock-head, not actually sliding out but making me feel like he would -- and to my surprise, I was enjoying it. Then he did pull out -- making me gasp -- and stuck it straight back in again, making me yelp. It didn't hurt this time, and the stretch teased all the right nerve endings.

He did that three or four more times, and I was nearly there. By the time he said "Lois. I'm going to fill your ass with hot cum. Are you ready?" I was really close and I didn't want him to stop.

"Keep fucking my ass. Keep fucking my ass. Mr. Solomon, please don't stop. Shove that cock in hard. Please. Please fuck my ass. Please!"

I felt him throbbing, a hard spurt of hot spunk suddenly hitting my stretched inner walls. He was moaning quite loudly, and frigging me for all he was worth, and I really didn't want him to stop. I was pushing back hard against him, trying to drive his dick deeper into me.

And then suddenly I was coming. I've no idea what noises I was making -- all I know is that Mr. Solomon put his hand over my mouth and I almost bit his fingers as the intensity of the orgasm swept over me. Everything seemed to be spinning round, I was almost feeling seasick.

When I became aware of where I was, I felt like a limp rag. I was sprawled across the desk, Mr. Solomon on top of me, his dick still in my ass, his hands still clamped tight over my mouth and on my pussy mound. And he was moaning "Lois. Lois. Lois," in my ear. I turned my head towards him, and he did something that surprised me. He kissed me. 

I was so surprised at first that I didn't respond. Then I kissed him back, a little shyly at first, then passionately. When we finally broke, he said "Lois, you are amazing. That was the best -- the very best!" I could feel myself blushing -- a strange thing to do when the guy who's just complimented you still has his dick buried in your ass!

He slowly and very gently pulled out, and I slapped a hand behind me and ran, gingerly towards his washroom. A trail of cum was dribbling out of my asshole, but fortunately nothing worse. I cleaned up, put a wad of paper in my crack to absorb anything else, and crept back into the room.

Mr. Solomon was back in his chair. His pants were back on, but he was still naked to the waist. The room definitely smelt of sex -- dirty sex.

"So Mr. Solomon. I've done everything you asked. Will you help me get my job back?"

He looked at me and his smiling face turned serious. "Lois, you shouldn't ask me that. The answer is no!"

I was devastated. I sobbed out loud and a tear ran down my cheek.

"You've really just been toying with me all along, haven't you? You just wanted me as your -- as your fuck slut. And now you've used me, you're going to discard me. You're a bastard, Mr. Solomon. A 24 carat bastard."

"That's probably true. But you see, there's no job to go back to at Taylor's. Your boss filled the vacancy the next morning."

"So you've just tagged me along...."

"Hear me out, slut!" His voice had taken a hard edge, and I collapsed into outraged silence.

"There's no point in you going back to Taylor's because there's no job. And in six months time, there'll be no company. Taylor is an asshole, and I'm making sure that he'll soon be begging me to buy him out. I made that decision the morning you came to me."

"Why? I mean..."

"Lois, the main reason I kept Taylor on was because I liked to see you in his office."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I thought Taylor must be fucking you, but when you came to me two days ago and told me you'd split with your boyfriend and Taylor had fired you, I decided to give you an interview."

"An interview? Is that what this has been all about?"

"Sure." He pressed a button on his phone. "Julie, will you come in here for a moment please, and bring that document."

I was shocked. I was butt naked apart from some cum-streaked stockings, heels and suspenders, and I had cum leaking out of my ass. But then the door opened and Julie walked in and crossed to Mr. Solomon as if the obvious scenes of recent sexual activity were exactly what she expected to find. She handed Mr. Solomon a document, which he proceeded to read. 

Julie turned to me conspiratorially and smiled. "Up the ass today?"

My eyes widened and I nodded feebly.

"It smarts a bit at first, doesn't it? But you get used to it. I really miss it now."

"Actually, Julie, Lois came the very first time. I think she's even sluttier than you."

"Oh Mr. Solomon, that's not a nice thing to say to a departing co-worker and mother-to-be. A few months ago I was begging you to fuck my ass just like I'm sure Lois did today. That must count for something?" She pouted in mock indignation.

"It counts for excellent references, a nice fat pay off and my undying gratitude, Julie. And anyway, Lois can't deep-throat me yet."

"Well, that does take a bit of practice, I must say. Getting the knob into your throat is a doozy."

I was astonished. Clearly I wasn't the only girl he'd fucked in this office, by a long way. I was about to speak when Mr. Solomon looked up and said "In case you're wondering, it's not mine. Julie wanted to start a family, so she came off the pill and I started using condoms. It's a real shame, because her cunt is sooo tight -- tighter even than yours, Lois -- and it's going to get stretched out of shape soon. But that's her husband's lookout."

"Husband?"

"Oh yes, sweetie. I've been married six years. I was married when I started working under Mr. Solomon." She smirked. "He asked me if I wanted to be his PAFS, at a salary twice what I was earning before. When I asked what a PAFS was, he told me... well, Mr. Solomon can explain to you."

Mr. Solomon looked up, then held out the document. It was an employment contract. It had my name on it. The 'job title' line said 'PAFS (Personal Assistant and Fuck Slut)'. The salary was -- well, a hell of a lot more than Taylor was paying me.

Julie continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "So when I asked about the duties, he said there was a rigorous interview process in which my duties would be demonstrated to me, but that they would involve him putting his cock -- as I recall, he pulled it out and said 'this' -- anywhere in my body that he chose. I said I was married. As I recall, he said 'does that make a difference?'"

Mr. Solomon looked up and smiled. "So then the little whore said 'I suppose not', and proceeded to blow me there and then in the office. Ever since then, she's been the best little slut I've had in a long while. I don't get time in my job to get out and meet women, so when I need a fuck, I need it there and then. Until around 6 months ago, Julie provided that, but as her bump grew she couldn't accommodate me anywhere but in her mouth. She found me a couple of temps who only lasted a few weeks each, so I've had to exist on blowjobs and hookers for quite a while -- and I hate sex with condoms on. Now you, Lois, can take up the mantle -- if you want the job?"

"I -- I really -- I mean -- YES!"

"Good. Read the contract through, then sign it. My lawyers tell me it's watertight. If you try to object to anything we do here after you've left my employment, you'll find you don't have a leg to stand on. But if you like fucking as much as you appear to, you'll do very well here. And of course you'll have secretarial duties, but they're not too onerous." 

And so I started my new life. Since then, I've had the most amazing time. I've moved to an upscale apartment in Manhattan. I bought a Mercedes, and a wardrobe of new clothes. David helped me pick out most of them, and I wear a lot of them to the office. Outside of work, David and I have a lot of fun -- although in the office and when he's fucking me (often the same thing) I have to call him Mr. Solomon (or 'sir'). He comes round to my apartment some nights, or I go to his, and we fool around and get romantic and we'll cook each other meals or take in a show. But actually, the times I most enjoy are when he's deep in my ass and calling me his fuck slut and I'm begging him to shove it in deeper and cumming like a steam train.



My Mistake



It was the worse year of my life. I had found out two months ago that I had some bad growths on one of my lungs. The doctors were pretty sure just some chemo would take care of it, but they did tell me nothing was for sure when it came to things like this. I was stunned when my doctor told me it would be good if I prepared everything at home just in case something didn't go right. I knew what he was telling me. I quickly learned to hate everything about my hospital visits, but I knew it was something that had to be done if I wanted to be cured. 

I wouldn't wish my treatments on my worse enemy. If all that happening in my life wasn't bad enough, something else happened at home that threw me my life even deeper into the nightmare than it already was. I'll have to start by saying I'm married to one very cute woman. Denise is twenty-two years old. I met her in college and even though I was about four and a half years older than her, we hit it right off. As I was graduating she was just starting out at college.

We dated on and off for about fifteen months when we knew we wanted to be together forever. I married her when she was twenty and I was twenty-four. Denise finished her college and got a fairly good job when she was done. Between my job and hers, we made more money then either of our parents ever had and we definitely had a very cushy lifestyle. 

Our marriage was just about PERFECT for the first two years. Denise was sort of laid back and not very outgoing, at least not in front of other people. At home she was all I could ask for, but once we left the safety of our home she was a different person. Sex was GREAT between us. Denise tried everything with me that she knew I loved. She would dress up naughty and sexy and she did that for me, but only when we were at home. Whenever she went out I was lucky if she wore a dress above her knees. I think it was the way she was brought up but I'm not sure. It was just something we both learned to live with. As long as she dressed up for me at home, I was ok with it. 

I really wanted her to dress up a little sexier when we went out because she had the body for it and I sort of liked guys turning their heads and checking her out. I wasn't the jealous type. I wanted to show her off a little, because I was proud of the way she looked. None of that ever happened and like I said, I was ok with it as long as I got my way at home, and boy did I!

I found out about my medical problems about four years after we got married. It was the lowest part of my entire life. Chemo made everything else seem so easy to do. I hated it but I went through it so I could get better. Denise didn't know what to say to me or how to treat me after I came home very sick from each treatment. I found out much later that she had a very long talk with her ownfemale doctor. 

The doctor told her I would be going thru a very rough time. My attitude about everything could change at any time. My wife's doctor told her to just make things as easy as she could for me, and not to hold any outbursts of anger or aggression or weird moods against me. They would all go away after my round of chemo was over. I would have laughed at her doctor if I had heard her tell my wife that. I never really got upset. I wasn't enjoying the chemo at all, but I didn't take it out on Denise, I'd never do that. 

There was a couple times I had to stay overnight at the hospital. My blood count was too low and they wanted to keep an eye on me. I hated those times the most. The hospital food sucked and they wouldn't let me get out of bed. It was on one of these occasions when everything went crazy. I usually called Denise to come get me once they said I could go home, but for some reason I wanted to surprise her this time. 

I got out about two hours early and took a cab back to our house. I silently let myself in but didn't see Denise. Her car was in the driveway, so I knew she was probably home. I softly walked down the hallway thinking I would surprise her. I stopped when I started hearing some strange noises coming from our den. I softly walked to the half closed door and was about to jump into the room and say SURPRISE really loud. 

Just as I peeked around the door my entire body just froze in place. I was looking at my wife, but I couldn't believe what she was doing. She was completely naked and she had her legs spread wide open and up on the desk. What I didn't understand was why she was typing. Then I saw the camera pointing down at her body. It took me five seconds at the most to realize what she was doing. 

My wife was web-camming naked with someone else out there on the internet. It was like a 50 pound sledge hammer had fell down on my head. I felt so bad mentally thinking about it, I just about felt like I was going to get sick again.

I was so upset I just silently walked back down the hallway and disappeared out the front door. I started to walk down the street now, knowing my wife was showing her body off to other guys on the internet. How do you take something like that? I had always thought she was afraid to even be seen out in a mini dress, yet she was allowingstrange guys to see her completely nude. It just didn't make sense to me. Why was she doing this? 

I felt totally betrayed, especially with what I was going through at the hospital. I started to get mad, very mad. How could Denise do something like this to me? I started wondering just how long she had been doing this behind my back. I thought a lot about how much I hated being in the hospital overnight and the chances were she was probably web-camming the entire time I was gone. 

The more I thought about it the angrier I got. I walked about a mile, I went into the first bar I passed and started to drink the hard stuff. My cell phone went off twice and I knew who it was. I wasn't about to answer it. I drank until I was drunk and then I drank some more. They told me not to drink while I was on the potent chemo drugs, but at this point I just didn't care what happened anymore.

I walked myself home about five in the afternoon. I was so drunk and so pissed it wasn't funny. The second I opened the door, Denise came running into my arms and told me she had been worried sick about me. I pushed her away and told her to leave me alone. The look on her face made her seem like she was really worried about me, I knew better. 

She really didn't understand what had gotten into me as I pushed my way past her. She kept following me around and asking me what was wrong. I told her she had better leave me alone or else I wouldn't take any responsibility for whatever happened next. She didn't take the hint. She kept asking me what happened to put me in this nasty mood. She asked me if I had a bad time at the hospital last night. Once she said that I just totally lost it. She should have just left me alone for awhile until I sobered up and calmed down.

I got up and grabbed Denise rather firmly. She didn't know what was up until I turned her body over and dropped her over my legs. In less then five seconds I lifted my hand and started to slap her ass just as hard as I could. I knew I'd never actually slap her or hit her, but a hard spanking didn't seem like it was uncalled for after what she did behind my back. 

Denise tried to get up and she started to put up a pretty good fight. She screamed at me to stop. I was so upset all I could think about was her showing off her body to strange men as I sat in the doctors office getting those nasty drugs pumped into my body. The more I thought about it the harder I tried to spank my wife. I never said a word. Denise screamed and kicked, but I didn't do anything but spank her about as hard as I could. 

She had a thin pair of slacks on, but I don't think they protected her butt all that much. Even as my hand started to sting, I kept on slapping her ass with all the might I could. I really started to feel good about it. I wasn't speaking out loud, but deep down inside I was telling Denise how much she deserved everything she was getting and probably more. 

She fought for a good five minutes. My hand felt like it was on fire. I moved her around a little and started to slap her with my other hand. I heard her start crying really loud as she begged me to stop. She kept asking me what was wrong as I laid into her ass with as much energy as I could muster. DAMN, it made me feel good. I let out all my frustrations and my wife's poor ass took the brunt of it. I'm sure I kept it up-a little longer then I should of, but it was the first thing in over a month that actually made me feel better.

I really can't say how long I spanked Denise. She didn't have a clue why I was doing this to her but she finally broke down and asked me what she could do to make this stop. I was actually getting tired, but I didn't want her punishment to stop. I slapped her hard a couple more times and pushed her up. 

For the first time I could see how red her eyes were. Her face was covered in tears and the look she gave me was like a lost puppy in a cage at the pound. I grabbed her by the arm and took her into our bedroom. I didn't know what I was going to do. I had never been this angry ever. Then I saw one of her tiny outfits hanging in the closet. 

I sat her on the side of the bed and dared her to move. She put her head into her hands and just cried louder as I walked over to her closet and pulled out a little tiny plaid skirt and a small pullover top. It was one of our SEX outfits that she would wear for me at home when I asked her to. 

I yanked her up and roughly undressed her. The entire time she was crying and asking me what she did to deserve all this. I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of knowing that I knew about everything she did in front of the computer while I was gone. She saw the tiny little outfit and looked me right in the face as she asked me again why I was doing this to her. 

I just screamed at her, "DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME! YOU DESERVE THIS AND FROM NOW ON, DON'T EVER TRY TO SAY YOU WON'T DO SOMETHING FOR ME WHEN I ASK YOU TO! THOSE DAYS ARE GONE FOREVER!" 

I stripped my cute wife completely nude then slipped the tiny top and skirt onto her body. I sat her down as she kept crying and I walked over and brought back a tall three inch pair of heels that matched the top perfectly.

The second she was dressed I grabbed her hand and pulled her out into the living room. She wasn't ready at all for what I had planned for her. I walked her to the front door and started to open it and she went crazy on me. She started to fight and tell me she wasn't going out of the house dressed the way she was. She reminded me that these outfits were for her to wear only at home. She let me know there was no way she was going outside dressed the way she was. BAD MISTAKE!

It was exactly what I needed to get out a little more of my frustration. I pulled her over to the couch without shutting the front door. The second I pulled her down over my knee, she started to yell at me to go shut the front door. I laid into my wife's ass as hard as I could with my bare hand. This time I just pulled the back of her tiny dress up and began spanking her bare ass cheeks. I started to really enjoy seeing her fighting and crying right in front of me. Maybe she was feeling how bad it felt when things didn't go your own way. My mind was filled with hate at this moment and my poor wife was taking the brunt of my frustrations.

The loud pops filled the room. I could hear my handing making perfect contact with her naked ass. She jumped twice as much as she did when I spanked her twenty minutes earlier. She yelled and then cried so hard she drowned out the sounds of the hard spanking I was giving her. I didn't know what was going through her mind, but I hoped she hated this as much as I hated going to get my treatments. 

I had a smile that went from ear to ear. I wanted some type of revenge and I knew this was one way of getting it. In the back of my mind, I continued to see some guys slapping hands with each other as they watched my cute wife put on some nasty show for them via the internet. It just wasn't like Denise, but I had caught her in the act. I knew what I saw and she was going to pay for betraying me like she did. At that point in time I didn't care if she jumped up after I was done and said she was leaving me, that's how pissed off I was. Nothing she could do now could hurt me anymore then she already had.

Seven or eight minutes after I started to spank my wife for the second time I could sense she was done fighting. She just moaned every now and then asking me why I was doing this to her. I pulled her up and she cried, but didn't dare try to stop me from pulling her out of our house. I heard her beg me not to let any of our neighbors see her dressed like this. In a way I hoped every one of her friends caught a view of her. It would have served her right for betraying me like she did. 

I walked her slowly to our car and helped her into the passenger seat. As I walked around I could see her looking around to see if anyone was outside in their front yard. Luckily for her there wasn't. I got in and drove for about twenty minutes. Neither of us said a word. I could hear Denise pouting rather loudly, but she wouldn't look my way or talk to me at all.

I didn't care. She was going to see that two could play this game. If she was going to show off for guys she liked then she could show off for me too. I took her to a small sports bar on the other side of town. When I parked she begged me not to make her get out, I think she knew it was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not. I walked around and pulled her up. She started to cry and I told her she could go in crying and have a hundred people come up to her and ask her questions, or she could dry up her tears right now and try not to make a scene. 

She gave me the once over and pleaded with me to drive a little further out of town. I asked her why I should. She didn't know what to say. I started to pull her into the bar and she stopped and pulled me into her body. She softly whispered in my ear she was sorry for whatever she did to make me act this way. She had been thinking about what her doctor had told her a couple weeks earlier. I wasn't the guy she knew at all but she knew why.

I was definitely acting STRANGE and she instantly knew it had to be the Chemo drugs inside my body that was messing me all up. She knew I had never acted this way before, it was so out of character for me. She tried to smile once she knew why it was happening, but she still wasn't happy about being out in the tiny sexy outfit I had her dressed in. She knew the skirt she had on barely covered what it needed to and the blouse was just about totally see thru!

She looked up at me and told me to drive her another fifteen minutes away from our house and she'd get out and be the perfect wife for the rest of the night. I really wanted to take her into this bar, because like her, I knew we'd probably see someone we knew. It would teach her a big lesson. She looked at me and begged me one last time. She again promised she wouldn't make a scene and she'd go in with me without putting up any type of fight.

I didn't want to leave but I wanted to see if she'd really keep her word.

I turned her around and slapped her ass really hard as we walked back to the car. I spoke right up and told her she better put on a nice show tonight beside me, or we'd be right back here a little later on after it really started to get busy. Denise gave me a look that would normally make me feel really bad, but tonight it didn't affect me one little bit. 

I drove exactly fifteen minutes then looked for another bar. I finally found a dance club and pulled into it. I could see the fear on my wife's face. I felt so good knowing for once I was getting the upper hand and she didn't know why I was treating her this way. My revenge was just getting started.

I was still so mad it wasn't funny.

I had already made up my mind I would never tell her. She wouldn't know I caught her putting on a webcam show completely naked. I knew it would drive her crazy, because up until today I had never even raised my voice to her.

When we walked inside, all heads turned our way. My wife's outfit was perfect to tease at home, but I'm sure nobody else would ever consider wearing it out dancing. I could feel how tightly Denise was gripping my hand. I looked at her face and it was perfect. She actually seemed scared out of her mind. I wanted revenge and this was the perfect way in my mind to get it. What she did to me would stay with me for a long time to come. 

I took her to a small booth and she fought to sit down without showing off her body. She quickly grabbed a napkin and put it over her tiny skirt. The waitress came over and I ordered for both of us, two very stiff drinks. I was already pretty plastered, but Denise didn't say a word as I ordered for her. We sat there for a few minutes drinking as a live band played in front of us. Nobody else was dancing yet, it was a little too early in the night

for that to happen. 

I waited for a nice slow song because that's about all I was good at when it came to dancing. Denise shook her head as I started to pull her up. She asked me to wait till others started to dance. I lifted her up and the small napkin fell to the floor as I pulled her towards the dance floor. She didn't want to dance, but I wasn't about to take NO for an answer. She put her arms around my waist, but I grabbed them and put them over my shoulders.

She instantly said the dress was way too short for her to dance like this with me. She jumped when my hand landed directly on her ass. I sort of laughed as I told her she could dance with me here, or at our favorite sports bar back closer to our house. 

I heard a soft, "WHY ARE YOU ACTING THIS WAY? WAS IT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED AT THE HOSPITAL?"

Something must have clicked inside her mind. I felt her lay her head on my shoulder then I didn't hear another peep from her. I danced about a minute of the dance with her pulled tight into my body. We were the only ones dancing, so everyone had to be watching us. I wish there was a way to tell you how SMUG I felt forcing Denise to do this for me. It was better than any birthday celebration I could remember. I loved this, showing my wife off as she fought me back every second of the way. 

My revenge was well under way and I loved the feeling of power it gave me over my very unfaithful wife. She couldn't have hurt me at a worst time in our lives. I didn't care what Denise thought of me, I just wanted her to pay for what I caught her doing while she thought I was laid up in the hospital!

I wanted this revenge so bad it wasn't funny. I still had the visions of guys watching my naked wife do whatever she did for them. I can tell you for sure, this was the maddest I had ever been in my entire life. I felt like I could KILL someone. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to grab Denise and blister her ass for another half hour straight. I decided I knew something that would get her goat just about as much. My hands slid down her body and she jerked as my right hand landed right on her ass cheeks. 

The thin material of the tiny skirt was between my hand and her ass, but it didn't matter. Denise knew I was feeling her up right here on the dance floor.

She let out a, "NO PLEASE, NOT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE HERE!" 

I just sort of slapped her butt and whispered in her ear she promised to be the PERFECT WIFE if I brought her here. I told her either start being PERFECT or let's go back to the other club. She didn't say another word. I couldn't see her face but her eyes were closed tight and she didn't want to see who was watching us as we danced. I kept feeling her up as we danced. I could just about feel the bottom of her ass showing under the tiny skirt as it was pulled up from the way her arms were around my neck. 




My Mistake



I told myself this was PERFECT, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! I knew Denise had to be hating it and guess what, she was!

After our dance I took her back to our booth and I watched her down her drink like it was water. I ordered her another and for twenty minutes we sat there without talking. I was watching everyone around us and it seemed like they were watching our table just as much. I waited for another slow song then Denise grabbed her drink and finished it off before we went up to the dance floor. She didn't even try to keep her arms down. She knew I would pull them around my neck. 

Instantly we were slow dancing and my hands fell right to my wife's perfect round butt cheeks. For thirty seconds we danced like we did a little earlier.

Denise had her eyes pinned shut and I was rubbing one of my hands all around the outside of her skirt. I slowly let my hand go lower then she jumped and broke our embrace as my hand slid up under her tiny skirt. She looked at me and said that was it, she wanted to go home. I just grabbed her hand and headed towards the door. We walked really fast and I'm sure Denise thought we were going home. 

I got to our car, unlocked it then surprised Denise by opening the back car door and pushing her inside. I slammed the door and a mini battle took place in the back seat. I easily won it after maybe two minutes of yells and screams. Denise was again over my lap and this time I tore into her and talked about as bad to her as I could. She was crying as I spanked her bare ass with my hand and told her how bad I thought she had been to me while I was fighting for my life in the hospital. She kept saying she didn't understand what I meant. YEA, RIGHT DENISE!

I didn't tell her what I saw, but I told her I had never been so disappointed in a person in my entire life. 

She started to moan out, "I'M SORRY, I AM REALLY SORRY, BUT WHAT DID I DO?" 

I have no clue if anyone heard the long hard spanking I gave to my wife. She kicked and fought for about three minutes then after that all that could be heard was loud crying and huge painful POPS as my hand landed on her ass. I felt damn good as I spanked her. I think it let out all the pent up feelings I had about chemo, the fact that my wife was doing the nasty things she was for other guys, and how sorry I felt for everything that was happening in my life. 

I didn't stop until my hand could not take anymore. I knew my wife's ass had to hurt a lot more than my hand did. I switched off hands at least twice as I spanked my unfaithful wife. When I let her up, her face was so messed up I couldn't see her eyes at all. I let her sit there and wipe her face up then after about five or six minutes she finally stopped crying. 

I asked her if she was ready to be the PEFECT WIFE she promised me she would be before we came here. She shook her head and seconds later I was opening up the back door. I wasn't even close to ready to let her go home. We walked inside and she whispered for me she would be really good if she could go to the restroom and clean up her face.

I let her arm go and she disappeared for about ten long minutes. She had a lot of work to do to fix up her face and I'm sure she was wondering just exactly why I was acting the way I was. I sat back drinking just thinking of things I could do that would really get to my wife the most.

I wanted to push her until she broke. I had already told myself she would either take it or leave me. The way I felt about her right then either one was ok by me. I was so drunk, very pissed off, and really didn't care anymore about anything. 

When she came back she seemed like she was a different person. She sat down beside me and whispered for me to hold onto her tightly and not let go of her. I ordered her another potent drink and we sat there and listened to the live band play. There were now people dancing on the dance floor. It took about twenty-five minutes for a slow song to be played. 

I got up and slowly pulled my wife up. She looked me in the eyes and gave me a big soft kiss. 

I got a very short, "I'M SO SORRY, I WON'T DISSAPOINT YOU AGAIN" whispered in my ear. 

I walked her to the dance floor and she lifted her arms over my shoulders and wrapped them around my neck.

We started to slow dance and she surprised me to no end by lifting her head and guiding her lips right to mine.

We started to kiss as my hands fell lower on her ass. As my hands moved around, my wife would kiss me and softly whisper in my ear she loved me with all her heart. Very slowly my hand reached the bottom of Denise's tiny skirt. Just like that, my hand was on the bare bottom of her ass. She jerked, but just kept kissing me. Right there on the dance floor my hand started to feel up my wife's naked ass and this time she wasn't fighting it. 

For two wonderful minutes I danced her around feeling up her two tight cheeks. I knew everyone had to be watching and it just made it all that more exciting. I had a rush inside my body like I never felt before. When the song ended, I walked my wife back to our booth and instantly we started to make out. I was so turned on and couldn't beleive my wife was making out with me the way she was. I started to see Denise in a different light.

We kissed for about five minutes then Denise whispered in my ear that I should take her home for a little more PUNISHMENT. She smiled at me and told me I was right, she had been really selfish about things, especially with everything that I was going through. I didn't care what Denise said, it wouldn't make up for what I saw her doing. I was going to take her home, but all of this wasn't over, not by a long shot.

She gave me a kiss and just like that I was paying the bill and walking my sexy wife right out of the small dance club. We got into the car and Denise was all over me as we drove home. She did walk very quickly to the front door once we got home, but after she got inside she was as turned on as I ever saw her. We were kissing as I picked her up and carried her to our bedroom. As I laid her on the bed she looked up at me and told me she had never seen me act the way I did tonight. She didn't know who I was at the moment but she was going to stay by me thru all my troubles.

She smiled and said she never expected to be the center of attention like she was tonight. She pulled me down into bed with her and for forty-five minutes we were a tangled mess of bodies. I was a madman as I took her from every position humanly possible. After it was over I held onto my wife and she asked me if she had really been as bad as I said she was. I shook my head up and down and she actually agreed with me. She said she was so sorry. She told me from now on, I WAS IN CHARGE. She let me know how much those spankings hurt, BUT if she ever disappointed me again, I now knew how to handle it and make her SEE THE LIGHT! With those words being the last words spoken we went to sleep.

It was an amazing night. The next day we were about as close as we had ever been. She kept sitting on my lap when I sat down and we kissed more then we ever had.

Something special happened last night, but I wasn't quite sure right then what it was.

I still couldn't get the memory of my wife showing her body off to strange men. I was doing better because she was showing me so much attention but those nasty thoughts kept coming back into my head. Why would she do that? It had to be some secret fantasy thing she didn't want me to ever find out about, the problem is that I saw her doing it. I knew I'd never forget it, how could I? I might not ever let her know I saw her but it would be with me for the rest of our lives. 

I could see how much Denise was trying to be nice to me. She did everything for me. It was about 6:30 that night when things caught up with me again and I was ready to show Denise just how much I could show her off just like she had done for the guys over the internet. I went into the kitchen and grabbed Denise's hand. I guided her to the bedroom then started a shower for her. I stripped her naked and then quickly got out of my clothes. 

We kissed a lot under the hot water then I pushed her back against the cool tile and started to soap up her body. I lathered up her pussy really good and when I grabbed the razor my wife knew what was up. 

She gave me a little pleading stare, but didn't say a word. Denise kept her patch trimmed up nicely, but tonight it would disappear for good. It took me about seven minutes to make her perfectly smooth. It looked fantastic. Denise had shaved about half her pussy smooth for me once when we were first dating, but since then she always had a nicely trimmed bush. I rinsed her body off then turned off the water. I dried her off and took her straight to our bed. 

For the next ten minutes I licked her until her body was flailing all over the bed. I could tell she liked it by the way she creamed my face with all her wet slippery juices.

I let her lay there as I went to her closet and picked out the next sexy outfit I was going to MAKE my wife wear out. She was just laying there relaxing when she saw me with the tiny black skirt that was actually split up one side all the way to the waistline. Again it was a FUCK ME AT HOME outfit, not a wear out in public one.

Denise tried to smile, but I knew she was worried that I might try to make her go out again in this very revealing outfit. She asked me nicely if we were going to be staying in. The second I mentioned our favorite sports bar she started begging and asking if she could wear the outfit she wore last night. I think she knew I wasn't going to change my mind. It wasn't until she was dressed and took a couple steps that she knew she couldn't wear this out. 

Her ass was on view as the right side of the dress sort of push out as she walked. The right side was the side that split up to her waistline. She tried to act tough as she told me she'd only go out with me in the other outfit. It actually brought a smile to my face, hearing her tell me what she would and wouldn't do. I was hoping she'd put up a fight, now suddenly she was. PERFECT! 

It brought the memory of her with her legs spread wide open and a camera catching it all for other guys to see. My face started to get red and the anger instantly again filled my body.

That's all I needed. I was like a wild man as I grabbed her but this time pulled her to her closet and grabbed the first little belt I saw. I wasn't drunk tonight and I wasn't going to bruise my hand the way I did yesterday.

If Denise thought her ass hurt yesterday, today I wasn't going to stop until both her sexy little cheeks were red and blue all over. Just thinking of it made me shake in anticipation of the first SNAP of the belt.

Denise screamed at me not to hit her or she'd never talk to me again. I folded up the little white belt and then tore into her ass. Instantly the red marks popped up on her naked ass. She yelled about as loud as she could that the belt hurt too much and for me not to use it on her bare skin. Those words were exactly what I hoped to hear. I raised the belt even higher then lit into my cute wife's ass again letting all the frustration just flow from my body with every stroke. 

I loved watching her legs kick and then the loud sobs as Denise cried as loud as she possibly could. The pictures in my mind were so graphic. My wife with her legs spread wide open, guys laughing and talking nasty things about Denise as she did it. I really didn't feel bad about spanking my wife. It actually made me feel like I was getting something back that I lost. 

Her butt was completely red when I let her up. She was crying so much her face was totally wet. I gave her ten minutes to clean up her face then we were leaving. I watched her rubbing her ass and crying as she walked into the bathroom. She used every minute of the ten minutes I gave her. She still had tears in her eyes as she came out. She had a towel and begged me again not to make her go out in these clothes. She might even be arrested for indecent exposure. 

I laughed and told her we were going to our favorite sports bar tonight. The second I said that she ran into my arms and pleaded with me to take her anyplace else; she knew we'd run into someone we knew and she'd never be able to face them again. I stood there for about thirty seconds listening to Denise beg me to take her back to the same club we went last night. She knew everybody there already had seen her dressed in nasty clothes like she would be wearing out tonight for me.

I started to laugh and asked her if she was going to be the PERFECT WIFE like she was at the end of last night. She looked up and asked if I would take her somewhere else. I shook my head and said only until she misbehaved, then we were going straight to the sports bar. I really did want to show her off to some of my friends, if other guys were seeing her, then why not my friends? 

What she did had me looking at her in a totally different way. I still loved her, but I think some of the respect I had for her was now totally gone. Again I walked her to our car and this time I actually saw how much of her body the tiny split dress showed off. It really wasn't made to wear out in public. I laughed inside and thought, "OH WELL, TOO LATE NOW!" 

I felt good about showing my wife off like I was. We drove for about thirty minutes, that's how long it took to take her back to the same dance club we went to last night. She was nervous as I took her inside. The guy collecting money couldn't take his eyes off Denise. She held onto my arm with a death grip. She couldn't wait to sit down, so she would be out of everyone's sight. 

I ordered us drinks and Denise moved right up against my body and whispered to me this was so dangerous it wasn't even funny. She turned my head and kissed me then with a different look on her face. She softly whispered to me that if I was going to parade her around in next to nothing that I was going to have to protect her and make sure nobody bothered her. I shook my head up and down and said just one word, DEAL! We drank about two drinks each then the band started to play. I think they knew us from last night because their second song was a really slow one. Denise looked at me and asked me to at least wait till others were dancing.

I gave her a smile and whispered in her ear as I helped her up, "TIME TO SHOW THAT HOT SEXY BODY OFF, REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE OR WE'RE HEADING FOR THE SPORTS BAR NEXT TO OUR HOUSE." 

Denise walked right in front of me then lifted her arms up over my shoulder. As we started to dance she whispered to me again, "REMEMBER, ITS YOUR JOB TO PROTECT ME, DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE MY SIDE TONIGHT!" 

We started to dance and within thirty seconds my hand was squarely on her ass. I found out how easy it was to let my hands slip between the slit parts of her skirt. I felt good as my hand ran around my naked wife's ass. Everyone knew what I was doing, but nobody said a word or made a move to stop us. I felt up my wife for the entire song. When it ended I pulled her head from my shoulder and her face was pure red. We walked back to our table and I could see the smiles on everyone's faces as they stared at my wife's sexy cut dress. When we sat down Denise gave me a big kiss then asked if I liked showing her off to everyone in the club. I didn't hesitate in giving her my answer.

I think it surprised her when I shook my head YES that I did. I didn't know it then but Denise was going along with it because of what I was going through. Her doctor had told her how Chemo would be HELL for me and that I might start acting strange. Somewhere over the last two nights she had decided if I could go thru Chemo, she could go through this for me. She prayed things would get back to normal once all my treatments were done. 

She knew what I was going through was a lot worse then any little embarrassment she was going to feel.

That night was fantastic. The band played a lot of slow songs and we danced about every one of them. By the end of the night, both of us were just as turned on with each other as we were last night. I took Denise to the car and again opened the back door and pushed her in. She looked at me with big puppy like eyes and told me she had been the PERFECT WIFE, she didn't want to get spanked again and she didn't think she deserved to be. 

I shut the door and instantly she found out we were in the back seat for another reason. For the first time since we first met, I was making out with my wife in the backseat of a car. Five minutes after we got in I had her legs up over my shoulders and was riding her in long hot strokes as we made out. She just moaned and made it feel really good for me. I sprayed my cum all over her stomach and sexy dress. She was a mess when I helped her up off the backseat. I cleaned her up the best I could and took her home. We again stayed in each others arms all night long. Everything I was doing to my wife was getting to her just like it was me. I felt so alive. Denise felt so alive. We were in uncharted territory and I didn't want it to stop.

She would have never done any of this, if I hadn't made her and if I hadn't been in the medical condition that I was in. Neither of us knew it right then, but we had let the genie out of the bottle, nothing would ever give us the high that all this was now giving us. I'd keep pushing my wife and she'd slowly give in, until the day came when I pushed just a little too far. 

The sad thing is none of this ever had to happen, none of it at all. It was one big mistake leading to another. 

For a couple days I didn't take Denise anywhere. I think she was glad to stay at home. It was a Thursday night when I had her back in the shower and she knew as I was shaving her smooth again; we would be going out. I went right for that split dress again. It showed so much and I knew every eye stayed right on my wife. Deep down I knew she had to be enjoying it. If she would pose for guys via a camera, then going out and really showing off wasn't that much different, at least in my mind it wasn't. 

I was surprised how easy it was to get Denise dressed and out to our car

this time. She didn't put up any resistance at all. She was holding onto me and smiling as I helped her into the car.

I don't know if she was learning she really couldn't fight it, or if she was actually starting to enjoy it. Either way it didn't matter to me. It was starting to bother me again about how she showed off to other guys while I was in the hospital. She couldn't have been that worried about me. I drove right pass the sports bar that I really wanted to take her, I even drove pass the dance bar we went to the last two times. 

I kept driving and we ended up at a place called 'Shanagans'. It was a small strip bar about thirty-five minutes from our house. I don't think Denise knew what it was as I helped her from the car. She whispered a THANK YOU in my ear for driving us so far from our house. She walked beside me very closely and it surprised her they charged me $20.00 just to go inside. They let her in for free. She'd find out why the second we got totally inside the small building.

It was a little dark except for the well lit stage. The second we walked inside, Denise just stopped in her tracks.

She knew now what this place was. There on the stage was two girls dancing with just tiny g-strings on. She gave me a nasty look, but when I pulled on her hand she came with me. We got a seat fairly close to the stage and then I ordered us some drinks. We both looked around at all the guys that were making so much noise you could barely hear the music. For an hour we watched and drank. It was during a break that I grabbed Denise up and guided her over next to the juke box. 

I put some money in and had a slow sexy song playing. She looked at me and I knew she didn't want to dance in front of all these very worked up guys. I pulled her close and started to slow dance with her. The whistles started just about immediately. My hands flew under the open side of her dress and there was no hiding the fact that every guy saw what I was doing to my wife and loved every little second of it. 




My Mistake



They were yelling out some pretty nasty things as I danced her around the small area close to the juke box. When the song was over there was loud clapping and a lot of calls for Denise to get up on stage with the other girls. We went back to our table and in a matter of minutes we had all sorts of free drinks at our table courtesy of all the guys that had watched us dance.

We would watch a set of the professional dancers doing their thing then when they took a break, I'd pull Denise up and we'd dance next to the juke box. It was about two and a half hours after we got there that one of the girls came up and whispered something in my ear. I smiled and told her thank you. Once the girls stopped dancing I got Denise up and put our money in the juke box. I played a song I knew we could slow dance to then in a big surprise for my wife I pulled her to the side of the stage and pushed her up. 

She was shaking her head NO then I jumped up with her. The lights lit the stage up so bright you couldn't see any of the faces in the crowd. I slapped her butt and pulled her close to my body. 

I heard a faint, "PLEASE NOT UP ON STAGE IN FRONT OF ALL THESE GUYS." 

I started to dance with Denise and she finally closed her eyes and buried her head in my shoulders. I danced her around as the guys screamed and yelled out Denise's name.

I don't know how they got it. One of the waitresses must have heard me calling her name out and told them. We danced and I felt Denise shake as my hand slid up under the split side of her dress. Every guy was watching me feel up my wife. They knew, like I did, she didn't have a thing on under the very sexy dress. I felt like I was going to cum in my pants I was so turned on showing Denise off like I was. 

We danced a full dance then when the song ended I was about to walk Denise off the stage. Instantly another slow song started to play. Somebody had already fed the juke box more money to keep my wife up on the stage.

Denise barely moved her head off of my shoulder. Very slowly my hand moved higher up the side of her dress and as it did I pulled the back of her dress higher up her ass. She had to know most of her butt was not covered up at all. My hand was shaking as I rubbed it around her cute little ass and listened to all the things the guys were saying about Denise. They were all sexy words that let both of us know how much he guys were enjoying what we were doing. After the second song ended, I moved my hand and guided my wife down the steps. 

She was beet red from her hairline down to her neck. I took her back to our table then told the waitress to bring us some fresh drinks. I told the waitress we would be back in a minute.

I guided my wife out to our car and pushed her in the back seat. The wild sex that happened for the next ten minutes was the best of my entire life. Denise was so turned on as she kept saying she couldn't believe I showed her off like I just did. I fucked her the first time and lasted maybe 60 seconds. I told her that was too quick and I went at it a second time. I didn't get mine again, but Denise sure enjoyed the second fuck. She came by her own fingers as I fucked her from behind. It was cramped in the back seat of our little car, but that just made everything that much more exciting. I finally cleaned her up and then pulled her up and took her back inside. 

I think everyone in the small club knew exactly where we went and what we did. There was a lot of clapping and whistling as we sat down. I looked over at Denise and again her face and neck were bright red. Everywhere she looked she saw guys staring at her and blowing her kisses with their hands. She wasn't use to this type of attention at all.

Out of nowhere a bottle of champagne suddenly appeared on our table. It was from somebody in the club. We both laughed and popped the cork. We watched the other women dance; it was very sexy as they stripped down to a little patch of cloth that barely covered their shaved pussies. It had to be about 12:30 in the morning. We had finished off the bottle of champagne and again the girls were taking their fifteen minute break. 

I pulled Denise up and she was laughing and looking like she was really enjoying herself. I took her to the juke box, this time I put in enough money for three songs. I picked them out and guided her to the stage. The guys again loved the fact that we were trying to keep them entertained while the real dancers were taking their break. I slow danced with Denise for about thirty seconds. My hand kept sliding higher up her split dress and now my hand was up around the top of her butt.

I just lifted the back of her skirt up and let everyone watch as I played with Denise's near perfect ass. It was the turn-on of a lifetime. I couldn't see out into the crowd but I could hear them. Denise was holding on for dear life and just following me around the dance floor as I turned this way, and that. I looked down and saw Denise's face was hidden in my shoulder. I used my free hand to pull her face up then I kissed her like she had never been kissed by me before. We were both really turned on. There was no doubt about that. I was still playing with Denise's butt as every guy in the crowd yelled at the top of their lungs. The things they were wanting Denise to do for them was very nasty and only made me feel that much better about what I was doing with my wife. 

As I was playing with Denise my hands felt the small zipper on the side of her dress. I looked down and again Denise's face was buried in my shoulder. I started to think about why we were doing this and how much further I wanted to push things. 

The guys on the internet, the way she was showing EVERYTHING off to them. I knew what I was going to do. I couldn't help myself any longer. I whispered in my wife's ear for her to keep holding on to me and not to stop dancing no matter what happened. I could feel Denise's body shaking as my hand on her ass moved over just a little till I had the tiny zipper in my hand. Very slowly as I moved her around the stage I started to unzip her dress. I don't know if she knew what was happening or not. I don't know it the guys in the crowd knew. I just slowly pulled and the zipper easily moved down her body. 

I could feel it when it was at the very bottom. One more tug and it would let go. I pulled Denise's head up and lipped the words, "YOUR SO BEAUTIFUL, PLEASE DON'T DISAPPOINT ME ANYMORE"! 

I lowered my lips to hers and the second we started to kiss, I pushed my hand down. The two sides of the zipper broke loose and her dress was only being held up, because my arm was up against it. I danced her right to the front of the stage then closed my eyes as we kissed. It happened in an instant. The sound got so loud we couldn't hear the music. My wife just instantly stopped dancing and froze right against my body. I again felt like I was going to cream by pants without anyone even touching me. Denise could

have put up a fight but she didn't. I had to lift her arms a little to get

the dress totally off her but amazingly it happened in seconds without

Denise trying to stop it.

I could feel my wife's sexy dress laying on mine and her feet. I just pushed her backwards a little and just like that I had her completely out of her dress. I heard her saying something but I couldn't make it out. Her entire body was trembling and I could feel the goose bumps on her arms as she held

onto me as tight as she possibly could.

I started to dance her around and I could feel her body as it shook and she pulled me even that much closer into her body. I kept kissing her for about twenty seconds then when we broke our kiss I saw her staring right up into my eyes. This had gone so far, she was totally at a loss for what she should do or as to why she had let it happen.

I kept dancing her around and told her to relax, she was with me and I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

She pushed her lips up to my ears and told me she was doing this for me because she really loved me. She let me know I better protect her from all the really sex crazed guys in the audience. I smiled and told her she didn't have to worry. I watched her put her head in my shoulder and slowly shut her eyes. Right then I knew she was fine with this. I was right about her from the beginning, she loved showing off. I felt so proud to have her in my arms and show her off to all the strange guys in the audience.

I danced until the song ended then when the next song started I pushed my body away just a little and within a second Denise was in front of me with my arms wrapped around her body from behind. We both knew she was totally exposed. Her freshly shaved pussy had to be glistening in the bright lights for the crowd of very turned on guys. I didn't know it right then but my wife's legs were covered in her own wet juices. The warm wet pussy juices were running down Denise's thighs.

How could they not be? 

We were both in our own little world's right about now. She danced one more song with her body turned towards the crowd. We both knew they were eating it up from all the noise they were making. Finally the third song ended and I slowly walked Denise over to where her dress was still laying.

I reached down and lifted her feet as I dressed her right there on the stage. She didn't move a muscle or open her eyes. She didn't open her eyes till we had to get down from the stage. She then saw all the big smiles in the audience and she turned every color you could think of as we walked right out of the club. We didn't stop for anything.

On the way home we were both laughing and it was a very nervous laugh at that. Denise kept saying she didn't know what had gotten into me. I had never done any of the things I had done over the last week or so. I just about told her how I saw her doing the webcam thing but I didn't. We got home and went straight to bed. We kissed for thirty minutes but for some reason we didn't feel the need to have sex again. When we woke up the next morning, not a word was said about what happened last night. I think we both were glad of that. I knew by how easy Denise went with things that she must have really wanted it to happen.

I started planning more outings like last night. My wife didn't know it but she was going to be shown off as much as I could do it. I waited till the weekend, but on Saturday night we both knew I was taking her out. Just the look on my face as I pulled her towards the bedroom told her all she needed to know. 

She asked if tonight she couldn't dress up for me. I told her I wanted to dress her, but she promised me I'd like whatever she put on. I finally gave in, but I told her I'd take her right back to the bedroom if she wasn't dressed to thrill. She told me she knew what I wanted. She took about thirty minutes to get ready. 

When she walked out, WOW! She wore her tallest heels and her make-up was bright and highlighted the best parts of her face. Her tiny pink skirt was amazing. It wasn't anything special but it fit her like a glove and just barely covered her butt. I didn't remember it being so short, in truth it wasn't. She had fixed it up just so I'd let her wear it out. It was a normal skirt shortened so that I would let her wear it out tonight.

I drove right past our two close clubs. With a small smile on her face, Denise opened her door as we parked in front of the small strip club. Neither of us knew what would happen tonight, I think that was part of our new found fun. All I had to do was think about Denise showing off on the webcam and everything I had her do seemed ok in my book. 

We went inside and some of the guys there remembered us from the last time we were there. A small fat guy came up to our table and told us everything we drank tonight was on the house. He was the owner and he had made a killing the last time we were in his club. There were laws about stripping completely nude, but he wasn't going to say anything if we didn't. Besides, it would be my wife that got arrested. He would maybe get some sort of ticket if even that. He would just say the girl didn't work for him and he didn't know she was going to take everything off. 

We drank from the second we got in the joint. Forty-five minutes after we got there, we were onstage slow dancing exactly like we were a few days ago. I'd just pushed my hands under the back of Denise's short pink dress and lift it up until her butt showed. That's all we did for the first three dances. The guys loved it just like they did last time. We again had a bottle of expensive champagne waiting at our table when we went to sit down.

My wife watched the girls dancing and she really seemed to enjoy it. I would look at her and she had a big smile as they dance.

The second time we got up on stage, I just knew more was going to happen. I danced Denise for about sixty seconds with her skirt pulled up over her butt cheeks. She would lift her head up and kiss me as I felt her up. I finally reached down and wrapped my hands up in both sides of her tiny mini dress. My hands just started to pull up then five seconds later it was over. I threw the tiny dress to the back of the stage. 

Denise held me so tight and whispered to me I had better be her knight in shining armor tonight.

I danced with her to a complete song around the stage. All my young beautiful wife had on was a pair of tall heels. That was it. This time I could see her wet juices as they coated the insides of her legs. She was turned on and I knew it. 

I started to think about all the guys she had probably shown off to on the internet. I wondered if any of them ever captured everything that happened to their computer. I would have loved to see what she was typing to them and talking about as they stared at her body. I finally got myself so worked up I reached down and kissed my wife as I slowly spun her around and had her naked body facing the crowd. 

The lights lit up every naked inch of her body. We both kissed each other harder as the loud yells filled up our ears. I just slowly rocked her back and forth as the song kept playing. We barely moved from the spot we were in. After the song ended, I grabbed my wife's hand and guided her over to her dress. She reached down and slid it over her head. Just like that she was fully dressed and I guided her back to our table.

It was like we were movie stars. Guys started to come over to our table and talk to us, two guys actually had my wife sign their napkins. It was wild and crazy. I saw how much fun Denise was having, she was all smiles and she wasn't turning bright red like the last time we were in here. She was still

embarressed just not as much as the first time this had happened to her.

When the real dancers got up, one of the girls came over and grabbed my wife's hand. Neither of us knew what was up. My wife started to laugh as the girl guided her up on stage with the other professional dancers. It took her a few minutes to relax then she started to move her body like the other girls were. She wasn't very good at it, but that made the guys in the crowd love her even all that much more. As the girls got down to their g-strings one of them walked up behind my wife and lifted her arms. I'm sure my wife knew what was about to happen.

Just like I had done earlier, the girl lifted the tiny pink dress right off my wife's body. She was the only one completely naked. She laughed as the girls helped her start dancing again. Watching from the crowd as my wife danced like a stripper was a turn-on for the ages. I was clapping and making sounds like every other guy in the place was. My wife danced the entire twenty minute spot with the other professional dancers. When the music finally ended she got a big hug from each dancer and a small kiss on the cheek. 

After she dressed one of the girls led her back to our table. She was laughing and within a few seconds we had three of the dancers pulling chairs up to sit with us. It was so unreal. We talked about everything with the girls. They were not any different than my wife. One was married; one had two tiny babies, but wasn't married. I knew this was something that would happen again, I'd make sure of that. 

We stayed till the club closed at 2:00 a.m. in the morning. The girls made my wife promise she would come back and dance with them again. They all made so much money that night because my wife went onstage with them and drove the local guys CRAZY!

The guys loved the totally naked dancing my wife had done for them. It was a treat they didn't get usually at all.

Over the next couple weeks we became regulars at the small strip club. No, let me take that back, we weren't regulars. My wife started to dance with the professional dancers and never got paid for it once. I knew our lives were forever changed. Nothing about our lives since the day I caught my wife web-camming while I was at the hospital was the same. The real surprise for me was still to come and it would be a true SHOCKER!

My birthday came and passed, and what happened on that day totally blew me away. My wife had been working on a special birthday gift for me every since I found out I had medical problems. She was making me a small scrap book. 

In it were pictures of her in very sexy poses. She had them of her in the kitchen spread out on the table, on the patio laying nude in one of our sun chairs. Then I saw the picture that made me totally freak out. 

There was my wife with her legs spread wide open at our computer desk. 

I knew by the position she was in that the picture was taken the day I came home from the hospital. Below each picture was a small one paragraph sentence about how she was thinking about me while I was going through the roughest time of my life. She said the pictures were for me to look at when the chemo treatments really had me down and out.

I knew it right then that my wife hadn't been showing herself off on the internet, she had taken this one picture and was typing up her message to me as I peeked in on her. Everything I put her through, the spankings, the showing off, the nude dancing, all for nothing. I felt bad for about thirty seconds. Then I thought to myself, MY MISTAKE..... SORRY DENISE. 

I still would never tell her what made me change as much as I did. I would be really lying if I told you I wished I had never caught her like I did. It was the best thing to never really happen in my life. I knew now just how much my wife truly loved me. She had put up with enough to walk out on me, but instead she changed just so she could be the type woman she knew I wanted. She did a great job at it too!



My Mistake



My wife, Nikki, and I were spending the night with mys, having left our kids with my parents while we attended the funeral of Nikki's aunt Jane (on her father's side). We arrived just in time for the memorial service and followed the train of cars to the local cemetery.  Afterward, we'd gone out to dinner and talking about the family history, especially as it related to Jane.

I took this time to reacquaint myself with the similarities between Nikki and Sue. Both were about average height, with Sue just a little plumper than Nikki in the belly. Both had long hair, curvy asses and largish breasts, although Nikki's D-cups were a bit larger and perkier than Sue's.

After a leisurely dinner, we retired to Wade and Sue's place for the night. We polished off a couple bottles of wine as we continued to discuss the family in general, and Jane in particular. Eventually, around midnight, we all headed off to bed, with Nikki and me sleeping in her old bedroom. 

I tried hitting Nikki up for some sex, but between the general mood and the wine, all I got was a little bit of petting before she fell sound asleep. Frustrated, I followed suit a few minutes later.

It couldn't have been a couple hours later when I woke up having to pee like a racehorse. I stumbled to the bathroom and did my business. When I came out of the bathroom, I heard water running in the kitchen. I could see Nikki's silhouette as she stood in front of the sink getting a glass of water, so I padded up behind her and pressed myself against her back. I brushed her long dark hair to the side and kissed the back and side of her neck. 

Getting no resistance, I reached my hands around and cupped her full breasts. I could feel her hard nipples pressing against my palms through her nightgown so I lightly pinched and rolled them, eliciting a small moan. When she began rubbing her soft ass against my rapidly hardening cock, I knew I had to have her. And even though, in this house, we had never done anything outside of her bedroom, I knew I had to have her right here.

I took both hands off her breasts, and lifted the hem of her nightgown over her waist. Surprisingly, Nikki didn't object, and even leaned her elbows on the edge of the sink and stuck her ass out to help it stay up. Without ceremony, I tugged her panties down over her ass and legs until they dropped to the floor. Then, I pulled my engorged dick out of my boxers and pressed it against her hot ass. Nikki took it from my hand and guided it to her pussy, where I slid into her like a hot knife into butter. Nikki must have been extra worked up because of the danger, because I had never felt her pussy so wet. Even moving slowly, my cock squelched every time I pushed into her.

With my cock slowly pistoning in and out of Nikki's cunt, I slid my hands up under her nightgown to cup her bare breasts, tugging and pulling on her nipples. Nikki stifled a moan as she came, pouring pussy juice over my cock and balls. I could even feel it transferring from her legs to mine as we kept fucking. What had gotten into my wife, I asked myself as we fucked as quietly as possible, which really wasn't all that quiet, given all the sloshing and squelching noises emanating from our joined anatomies. 

Normally after Nikki cums she gets sensitive and dries up, but tonight she just seemed to get wetter and more driven. I decided that I was going to have to do this kind of thing with her more often.

After a few more minutes of fucking, and hearing Nikki getting close to her second orgasm, I released her breasts and grabbed her full hips with both hands. I started pulling myself into her harder and faster, my hips making a slapping noise on her ass with every pump. When I heard her start to moan deep in her chest, I thrust into her with abandon, not caring how much noise we made. 

With one last thrust, I pushed balls deep into Nikki's pussy and held it there for a moment before erupting inside her. My cum spraying her insides pushed Nikki over the edge and she squealed softly as she came. I stayed inside her, breathing hard, until my cock softened enough to slide out. I bent down to grab her panties and kissed her ass cheek, tasting the pussy juice that was smeared all over it. I pulled her panties up until she could grab them and pull them on herself.

Nikki headed toward the bathroom to clean up, so I stepped out onto the porch to cool off in the slight breeze. It was warm enough that I didn't feel cold as the sweat and pussy juice on my body slowly dried. After a short time, but long enough for Nikki to have gotten out of the bathroom, I went in. 

Surprisingly, the room wasn't full of steam. I figured that Nikki must have not wanted to risk waking her parents by running the shower and used a washcloth, but I couldn't find it. Probably already in the hamper, I thought, as I got out another one and used it to wash myself up. 

I went and slipped into bed beside Nikki, spooning tightly against her although she was already fast asleep again.  I ran my hand down her body to her leg, and stroked her light cotton pants. 

I was slowly drifting off to sleep when my eyes shot wide open and I woke fully. I could suddenly clearly remember seeing Nikki putting those sleep pants on as she dressed for bed earlier tonight. So who had I...? Sue?! As inconceivable as that idea was, she was the only other woman in the house. Now, did she know who had been behind her...?

Tomorrow looked to be interesting....



Feel free to leave comments.



My Mistake



Fiona was feeling pleased with herself. Her little business trip had gone well and she was going to be home a day earlier than expected. She toyed with the idea of calling Robert and letting him know she'd be home early, but decided to surprise him.

It was a good thing she hadn't arranged for Robert to pick her up at the airport Fiona found. They'd sat in a holding pattern for over an hour and once they were down they were stuck in the plane for another hour before then could disembark. Some sort of security alert. All it seemed to have achieved was delays and short tempers all over the place.

On top of all that it was another half hour wait to get a taxi from the airport. Fiona was feeling distinctly frazzled as she head homeward.

Not exactly homeward. She was feeling frustrated and in need of some tender loving care and she was quite sure Robert wouldn't object to her dropping in late. She wouldn't even have to wake him. She had a key.

Fiona quietly let herself into Robert's flat. Walking down the hall she glanced in the main bedroom and could see the outline of Robert under the bedclothes. There was no mistaking that large figure.

Fiona slipped into the bathroom, stripped and had a quick shower. Naked, she padded down to the bedroom and slipped into bed next to Robert. Should she wake him or should she just snuggle up and go to sleep?

Deciding to just snuggle up and go to sleep, Fiona proceeded to do just that. Her plan ran into a slight hitch when she accidentally, she was quite sure it was accidentally, placed her hand on Robert's cock. She automatically closed her hand, feeling it starting to come to life under her touch.

Plans need to adjust to changing circumstances, decided Fiona, gently stroking her prize. Her prize swelled as she played with it, reaching fearsome proportions. Far too big for Robert to sleep comfortably. If he rolled over with an erection like that he might snap it off.

She continued to play, feeling Robert starting to stir. To help him in his transition from sleep to full wakefulness, Fiona slid further under the covers, taking him into her mouth.

She felt the jolt run through Robert as she gently sucked on him, heard his startled gasp. Then her head started bobbing as she ran her mouth down the length of his erection, teasing him into full awareness. She pushed down on his cock, sucking as she drew back up, letting her tongue and her teeth rub against the hot bulbous head, drawing a ragged groan from Robert. 

Fiona was hot and way past ready, and Robert's contribution to the coming fun was outstanding. With a gasp, Fiona pushed the bedclothes away and straddled Robert, feeling herself sink down onto him. 

God, he felt good. He was filling her as never before, already pushing up into her, mastering her, his hands coming up to close over her breasts.

Fiona started bouncing, sliding up Robert's erection and pushing herself back down. She was in no hurry, quite happy to enjoy the feeling of Robert inside her, taking her. 

She smirked. To be truthful, she was taking him, but he didn't seem to be complaining. Up and down, sometimes giving a little twist or a squeeze as she moved on him. She thought she'd be happy to continue with this all night. Her cares and frustrations were being soothed away, the friction of Robert's cock against her sensitive passage rubbing away all those disagreeable little tensions, replacing them with a set that was much more preferable.

Fiona wasn't too surprised when Robert's hand left her breast and groped at the wall behind him. He liked to be able to see her as he took her, enjoying the look on her face as he pleasured her.

The light snapped on and the smile on Fiona's face slowly congealed, setting into place as a rigid mask. Smiling up at her was a stranger, who was now pushing more strongly into her.

"What?" she gasped. "Who are you? What do you think you're doing? Stop."

Fiona tried to stop what they were doing but the stranger's hands had fastened on her hips, holding her in place as he continued to thrust hard into her.

"Don't you think that I should be asking those questions?" asked the stranger. "I mean, one moment I'm lying peacefully in bed, the next. . ."

He shrugged, not that it seemed to interfere with the way he continued to drill her, Fiona noticed.

"This is rape," wailed Fiona, horrified now to find herself enjoying sex with a stranger. Even more horrified to realise that, yes, she was enjoying it. The stranger had a remarkable ability to hit the spot.

"I know it's rape," said the stranger, "but don't let it worry you. I'm a very forgiving type and as long as you finish up with the same elan as when you started I won't press charges." 

"What are you talking about?" shrieked Fiona, finding herself still bouncing merrily. How was she supposed to concentrate with him doing that to her?

"You attacked me," pointed out the stranger. "I was lying there, peacefully asleep, and you snuck into my bed and sexually assaulted me, forcing yourself upon my unconscious body. A very traumatic experience, I assure you. I'm hoping that your continuing will ease the stress you've caused me."

He had to be joking, thought Fiona, shocked. She wasn't raping him, was she? She had a sudden nasty suspicion that she was. He'd been asleep and she'd jumped him. If a man had done it to her she'd be screaming blue murder and not listening to any excuses.

But if it was rape, he was definitely taking it like a man, refusing to let her stop until the job was finished. Damn it all, what was she supposed to do? If she struggled and fought free, could he lodge a complaint? Would he, if he could?

The trouble was, it was just so hard to concentrate when a massive cock was bouncing you up and down, jolting you to your teeth every time he lunged up. Or was she pressing down that fast? 

Fiona groaned. Maybe it would all make sense later. Right now she had a feeling she needed to concentrate on finishing her rape, if that's what it was. How many women could boast they've raped a man twice their size, she wondered. 

Adjusting her position slightly, Fiona lent forward until her nipples were brushing the strangers chest. She could feel his chest hairs prickling against her. Bracing her hands against his shoulders, Fiona started humping her bottom, driving herself up and down his erection hard and fast. 

She felt his hands come off her hips and fasten upon her breasts, holding them firmly as she serviced him.

From that point things went very much the way Fiona has originally expected, with the slightly surreal knowledge that the wrong man was under her. 

She bounced on a nice long cock while that same cock pushed up eagerly to meet her, delivering a series of titillating touches as it came. Even the knowledge that this cock wasn't quite the one she had expected did nothing to dampen the thrill as it drove home within her.

As the first indications of her climax made themselves know, Fiona was half expecting to be rolled onto her back while the stranger finished her off with a few hard stokes. It didn't happen. Fiona found herself pressing frantically against him, willing her climax to hit her, feeling a vast relief when it finally started rolling over her.

Even as her climax came upon her, Fiona found strong hands clamping onto her hips and felt the strangers cock ramming home with increased violence, flooding her internally. Bastard, she thought as she felt herself being swept away. You could have done that earlier.

Slowly coming out of her daze, Fiona turned on the stranger.

"Who are you and where's my Robert?" She demanded. 

"I'm Robert," came the reply, "but you would probably think of me as Robert Senior, as opposed to my son, Robert Junior. Robert Junior is away for a week and won't be home until tomorrow. I'm housesitting as I was in town for a week and needed a place to stay.

Am I to assume that you know Robert and are not just some young woman who goes around attacking random strangers?"

"I'm Robert's girlfriend," Fiona informed him, a snarky tone in her voice. "I've been away on a business trip and got home a day early. I thought Robert would be home."

"And I'm sure he will be if you care to sneak in tomorrow night and surprise him. However, you may want to turn the light on before you ravish him in case it's not him."

"I didn't ravish you," muttered Fiona. "It was an honest mistake and you know it. You took advantage of me."

"No, no, I never did," protested Robert Senior. "I was traumatised and feared for my life. You might have had a weapon. I just felt that it was too dangerous for me to try to prevent you from completing your assault in case you got violent." 

Fiona wanted to hit him. Hard. He was talking nonsense and they both knew it, but she couldn't prove it, and they both knew that, as well.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Well," said Robert Senior. "I don't know about you but I'm going to sleep. You could get dressed and go home or use the guest room or just roll over and go to sleep. After all, it's not as though I'm going to attack you."

Fiona considered the matter. He'd already had her, so he was unlikely to grab for her, and she was tired.

"I'll sleep here," she grumbled. "I'll be gone at soon as I wake." 

Fiona drifted off to sleep, idly wondering what he'd meant by that last comment. What did watch out for the morning glory mean, anyway?



My Mistakes



The Mistake

Year 2089

I sit naked at the restaurant table, well not entirely naked, Master Shane has let me wear shoes which is a big deal for a submissive. Nakedness is a mark in society of a submissive slave. A lifestyle I did not chose, but more on that later.

As I said, I am sitting naked, waiting for my Master to finish his meal. Once done he looks at me and says, "Stand next to the table, lags apart, hands on table until I return." I do as I'm told and he leaves, I assume for the restroom. It takes only a minute for another restaurant patron to come to me.

"Well, aren't you a beauty, way too good to pass up. On the floor sub! Face down!" he commands.

"Yes Sir," I respond as I kneel down on the less than spotless floor. Once I'm flat he pushed my legs apart and I feel his fingers run up my clit and into my vagina. I moisten at his touch and wish I hadn't. Within seconds he stops.

"Hello sir, is this yours?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact it is," I hear my Master reply, "give me second and then please have your way. I'll just sit and watch."

I hear my Master's voice warm and quiet next to my ear, "you had better be a very bad girl for this gentleman. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master" I reply.

"Carry on" my Master says to the stranger.

Again the fingers run up my cunt and into me. The stranger grabs my one of my hands and pulls it roughly behind my back. He places his cock in my hand and instructs me to pleasure him. I do nothing and am rewarded with a sharp smack on my ass. Again the stranger puts his member in my hand and again I do nothing. This time the strike is even harder making me cringe inwardly. 

"I think you need to learn a lesson, sub. Pleasure me or I'll teach you how to treat men," he commands and so I run my fingers along his shaft and kneading his balls.

After a few minutes he pulls away and commands me to turn over. Per my masters instructions I refuse, keeping my face to the filthy floor. The stranger grabs a fist full of my hair, yanking my head up to look at him, "I said turn over you dirty little slave. Do as you're told. NOW!" 

I turn over and see the face of my Master looking down at me. He is truly enjoying watching this guy manhandle his property. The stranger kneels over me and shoves his penis in my face. "Eat!"

I refuse and again I am rewarded with a slap – this time to the face. "Eat." He says again trying to force my mouth open. I clamp my jaw shut and ignore his request. The slap this time stings my eyes. 

My Master is now chuckling. He knows that I can be amazingly naughty when I want to be. "Eat," comes the command again and this time I shake my head back and forth to avoid his hard dick. The stranger grabs my hair with one hand, stopping my head, and pries my mouth open with the other, then he shoves his member down my throat. I gag for a moment then regain myself and start to suck hard on the cock that is invading my throat. Before he comes he pulls back shoving my face to the floor. 

He then crawls down to my waiting cunt and shoves himself hard into me. I look at my Master. He no longer looks like he is enjoying himself. His expression tells me that I've done something wrong. I look away and wait for the stranger to finish. When he does he gets up, zips himself back in his pants and shakes my Master's hand. I remain on my back on the grimy floor waiting to be told what to do.

After the man leaves my Master looks at me and growls, "On your knees." 

I look at him confused. Master Shane never uses me in public. "On your knees." He snarls, pausing between words. 

I flip over and kneel in front of him. Master Shane then grabs the back of my head and pushes me onto all fours. "You will crawl out of this restaurant." 

Again I look at him perplexed. This is so unlike my Master. My indignation is rewarded with a sharp slap to the face and so I start crawling through the restaurant toward the door. At the door he tells me to stay where I'm at until he brings the car. I do as I'm told sensing I'm in enough trouble already.

Once Master Shane returns with the car, he comes and pulls me to my feet and then drags me by the elbow to the back seat of the car. As a slave I cannot "sit" in the front seat. Front seat privileges are limited to lying down in his lap while he plays and drives at the same time. Master Shane almost always puts me in the front seat. 

"Crawl in and lie on your stomach for the ride home." I spent the twenty ride home with my face smashed into the seat and my knees bent at a 90 degree angle.

Once we are in the house I take off my shoes and hand then my Master. "Bedroom," he points then walks away. I walk to the bedroom and stand before the bed. When my Master enters he commands me to lie face down on the bed. I should move but I am frozen in place by the sudden anger in his manner. Since I do not obey he spins me around and roughly pushes me face down on to the bed. 

"You had better get your submissive ass to the headboard slave or I will pull out the whip and whip until you cannot sit." I have never heard him speak this way. I know he owns a whip, all Masters do, but he's never actually used it on me.

I crawl to the head of the bed and lie on the stomach, face to the pillow-less mattress. My Master grabs my arms and one-by-one secures them to the railing at the head of the bed. Then he secures each ankle to the side of the bed, opening me up for his pleasure. Master Shane then opens up my pussy by pulling my lips back with a pussy spreader. The tightness makes me wince in pain. 

The next sensation I feel is that of a cunt clip pinching my clit and I accidentally cry out at the pain. 

"Shut your mouth! What has gotten into you tonight? Are you trying to anger me into whipping you?"

"No Sir, I'm confused. What did I do wro..." but I don't get finish my question because he is at my ear hissing "What did you just call me slave? I am not your 'sir', I am your Master. I've had enough of your disrespect tonight. You can stay like this and think about your actions." He leaves the bed, and returns a moment later with a ball gag, which I accept readily, then he turns off my light and leaves the room.

I lie in the dark; stretched taunt, gaged, with my clit throbbing, playing back the events of the evening. Where did I go wrong? Although I rack my brains I can think of no rules I broke. As my mind wanders I think back to how I ended up in this situation...

******

Two years ago

It had been a long day at school. The children had been particularly rowdy and the lesson I had planned had not gone well. I had a staff meeting after school in which the principal had droned on and on about district policies that had nothing to do with me. Then at 4:00 pm I had a committee meeting with the reading curriculum team. I didn't even get on the train until 6:00 pm and by the time I got home, my neck was knotted, my head was pounding, I wanted nothing more than to eat, and take a long bath.  

As I walked through the door my husband was waiting for me looking less than pleased. "Where have you been?" he demanded as I put down my grading laded bag.

"Work." I sigh, "It was one of those really long, stress filled days and right now I want nothing more than to climb into a bath."

"I was expecting you home two hours ago. I need to fuck you."

"Oh Allen, now? I'm really not in the mood. It'll be no fun. Can I please take a bath?" I ask gently.

"Fine," Allen spits at me before walking away.

An hour later I emerged from my bath feeling rejuvenated, but hungry. After towel drying off, I threw on a pair of old jeans and a baggy t-shirt and made my way downstairs. What met me at the bottom of the stairs changed my life forever. Two officers were standing at the bottom of the stairs talking to Allen. When they saw me one walked over to my side and roughly grabbed my elbow. 

"Miss, you are under arrest for violating section 1843 of the WC law." He hand cuffed me and lead me to the awaiting squad car. I walked to the squad car as all the neighbors watched. 

In 2082 the World Counsel took over as the world government, uniting all the nations under one rule. Early on in their rule this male dominated government passed WC 1843 with a unanimous vote. In a nut shell it says that any woman who denies her husband the right to her body will be declared dead, stripped of her name and social status and sold into sexual slavery. She is sent to be trained at a training house where she will learn that her body is not her own and that her only purpose in this world is to please her Master. Many call the law the Prudence Law and those who have been found guilty of breaking the Prudence Law will wear the stigma of nudity for the rest of their lives.

The trial was quick. I was not allowed to have a lawyer or speak up in my defense. Allen brought up the two different instances in the last year that I had denied him rights and the judge quickly decided I was guilty. After the judge declared me dead and my husband free to marry again, the bailiff walked over to me and ordered me to strip off me close, right there in the court room, then hand cuffed me and took me to an waiting vehicle which transported me to the training house where I would spend the next year training to please my Master and learning the live rules of my new station.

*****

Sometime during the night I managed to fall asleep despite the discomfort of being bound so tightly to the bed. I am awakened by Master Shane unbuckling my gag. He then releases from my bonds and orders me to the shower. 

I stand – sore from sleeping in one position and amble off toward the bathroom. Once there he hands me a spreader bar and orders me to put it between my legs. When I stand he pushes me face first against the shower wall and binds me to the suspension cuffs that hang there for "special" discipline. 

"Please don't Sir. I'll be good." I plead without thinking.

I know what's coming and I am at a near panic. This is the only discipline that I was never able to take quietly while in training. 

Master Shane pulls the shower head off the wall and turns on the water. He then starts to spray my citreous with the shower head. The warm water pulses at my cunt pushing me closer and closer to ecstasy. I stand trying not to let my leg buckle as my body burns with desire. As soon as I'm on the edge, about ready to fall into the spasms of coming, the vibration of the water stops.

Disappointment, longing and fear fill me as I wait not knowing what to expect next. A few seconds later my cunt is again showered in warm water. I relax for the moment, letting myself enjoy the sensation of being pushed to the edge by the water. This time my body reacts even more strongly and I nearly orgasm. Again the stimulation stops the minute my Master realizes that I am near the edge. I wait steeling myself for what I am sure is going to come next. 

When the water baths my sex again it is freezing cold and despite my best efforts to keep my mouth shut I cry out at the sudden change in temperature. The glacial water stops immediately and I hear Master Shane putting the shower head down. My Master steps into the tub, unhooks me from the suspension cuffs and roughly turns me around. He then re-hooks my wrists above my head and slaps me in the face. I knew that was coming. 

"Keep yourself silent, or I'll teach you to how to obey me the hard way. Now close your eyes." Master Shane breathes at me.

"Yes Master."

"Don't you 'yes master' me unless you plan to behave!" he growls knowing that is nearly impossible for me to "behave" during this discipline.

I drop my head and reply "Sorry Master."

Once again Master Shane turns the water on. This time he sprays my breasts with the icy water before returning the shower head to my already freezing cunt. I manage to bite my tongue as the cold water rushes into me. The water stops and I tense every muscle in the my body readying myself for an onslaught of cold, but this time I am surprised by warm water and suppress a moan as the water thaws my sex.

The next change in water was back to icy cold and I scream at the change. Master Shane slaps me in the face then sprays my breast again with the icy hell before returning to work on my cunt. This continues for 20 minutes. Every time the water goes cold I cry out and I am reward not only with a swift slap to the face or the tit, but Master Shane also takes a minute to spray my reddening tits with the cold water before returning it to my cunt. When he is finally finished disciplining me, he washes me down, and towels me off. 

"Go cuff yourself to the bed. I want you on your knees face to the bed." He commands.

When he enters the room a few minutes later he opens the top drawer of my dresser and pulls out a paddle. Then he walks over to me and slams the paddle into my raised ass. "That's one Master, may I have another?" I say.

"That one was for calling me Sir before your discipline this morning. This next one is for calling me Sir last night. Count it slave." And he slams my rear once again.

"That is two Master, may I please have another?"

"Yes, you may. This one is for making a fool of my in the restaurant." The paddle hits even harder bringing tears to my eyes.

"That is three Master, may I have another?" I barely mange to squeak out, the pain taking my voice.

"Tell me slave, how did you make a fool of me last night?"

"I don't know Master. I did what you told me to do." I whimper tears streaming down my face wetting the bed. The paddle strikes again.

"That's four Master may I have another?"

"Tell me why you did what that man told you to do! Did I say you could obey at any point last night? You do as I tell you slave. I am your Master! The one who feeds and cares for you and this is how you repay me?" The paddle makes my cry out and it instantly hits again.

"That's five and six Master may have another?"

"That's five! The second one was for not keeping your mouth shut. I will give you 5 more for your insolences. Count them," he commands.

When I have reached 10 my ass is throbbing and I am all but bawling. I know that sitting today is going to be less than desirable. 

"Flat on your back." Master Shane commands.

Turning over and laying with my rear touching the bed is almost unbearable. My Master returns the ball gag to my mouth, straps my legs back to the edge of the bed and re-applies the pussy spreader and cunt clip then leaves the room. As I lay there I feel myself cum despite myself, warmth dripping down my leg. I begin to cry a new knowing that if Master Shane sees that I have cum without his permission I will be punished even further.

I hear him leave an hour later, never coming back to release me. All I can think is that I'm in for a rough night. Being strapped to the bed means that I can't do my list of chores and every chore left undone earns me 30 minutes of discipline tonight when he returns home.



My Mistress



This story is purely fictional.  This is also my very first real attempt at writing a story involving a female dominant and a male submissive.

I heard the keys jangling as they slid into the lock, I knew that my Mistress had returned home from a long hard day of work and before the lock even clicked I had assumed the position, on my knees, hands at my sides, and head bowed.  I heard the door open and close, my Mistress walked up to me and gave me a couple of gentle pats on the head, her way of giving me permission to now take in her beauty.

She sat on the couch behind me and gently said, “Slave, please join me on the couch.”

“Yes Mistress.”  I meekly replied and sat down beside her.  

She patted her lap and said, “Please lay here.”  I did as I was told without hesitation or question.  My mistress lightly ran her hand through my brown hair as if she were massaging my hair.  For a second I enjoyed the sensation and then realized that I was the way who was supposed to be giving any form of pleasure, not her.

“Mistress,” I said, “not to be rude but may I ask what you are doing?”

She replied, “Just thinking.”

“About what, if I may ask?  Mistress?”  I said.

“I was actually thinking about you.”  Was her gentle reply.

“Why are you thinking about me Mistress?”

“Well, actually I was thinking of how devoted you are to me.”  She said.

“I am.  I would do anything to protect and serve my mistress.”  Was my reply.  I looked up at her.

She looked down into my green eyes, “I know.  You even proved that at the bank.”

About a year ago my Mistress and I were at the bank depositing her check (she sometimes let me go with her to all sorts of places).  Suddenly, a man in a ski mask came in and held the bank up, forcing everyone down onto the ground.  Instinctively, I moved closer to my Mistress.  After about ten minutes the police showed up, but the guy wouldn’t give any demands or budge.  Suddenly, he jerked my Mistress up to her feet and held her at gunpoint.  He started to wave the gun around when I crawled up behind him and hit him in the back.  He swung around and shot me point blank in the shoulder.  My Mistress forced herself away from the robber long enough to where she was in absolutely no danger.  I heard the shot, I heard and seen the glass shatter, and I heard and saw the gunman go down.  That was the last of the gunman.  My Mistress fell to her knees.  

Ignoring my own pain, I crawled over to her and whispered in her ear, “Mistress.  Mistress, are you alright.”

She looked up at me and smiled.  “Yes, I am.  But you don’t appear to be so fortunate.”

For the first time I really took notice of my injury, and even though it hurt like hell, I was still more concerned with the well being of my Mistress.  Cops and EMT’s rushed in to check on everyone and to attend to my wound.  The medics strapped me to a gurney and wheeled me out to the ambulance.  My Mistress was not far behind me and jumped into the ambulance behind me.  Minutes later we arrived and I was rushed into the ER.  I was put under and the next thing I knew I was awake.  My Mistress was at my bedside, holding my hand and crying softly.

“What’s the matter Mistress.”

She looked up and smiled, “Nothing.  I’m just really proud of you, that’s all.”

“Why’s that?”  I asked.

Again she smiled, “Because that bullet could have been for me.”

“Remember the day you had me come and move into your place Mistress?”  She nodded.  “I promised you that I would always protect you and would do anything to keep you safe.”  She smiled again.

“But, even though you saved me.  I will still have to punish you because I remember telling you to stay put.”  Just then the doctor came in.

“Hello Gerry.”  He said.  “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, Doc.  Do you know how long I’ll be here?”

“Oh, about two days.  The wound was a clean exit, the only thing that was damaged was the skin.  We just want to monitor you to make sure that you don’t catch any type of illness.”  I immediately looked over to my Mistress, but she just lightly shook her head.  “Well, I’ll leave you to rest.”  He turned to my Mistress and said, “Visiting hours are over in 10 minutes, so be quick.”  With that he left.

I turned to my Mistress, I was the one who was doing the crying.  “What’s the matter slave?”  She asked gently.

“I can’t stay here for two days.  What will Mistress do without me?”  I sobbed.

“Don’t worry about me.  I lived alone before you came along and I can do so again.”  She replied.

“But Mistress.  Who will take care of you.”  I started to get up, but she pushed me back down on my bed.  “Mistress, what about you.”

“I said I will be fine.”  She said sternly.

“Please, can you talk to the doctor?”  I sobbed to her again.

“Doctor’s orders over ride even mine.”  She said.

“But…”

“But, what?  You will remain here until cleared by the doctor.”  She said sternly.

“Please, no, Mistress.”  I sobbed again.

“Are you back talking your Mistress?”  She growled.

“Sorry Mistress.”

“Now,” she said softly, “I will take tomorrow off of work and I’ll spend the day with you.  Okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  She let go of my hand gathered her things, before she got out the door I said, “Mistress.”  

She walked back over to my bed.  “May I have your hand?”  She gave it to me.  I planted a soft kiss on her hand and then put it to my head.  I saw her smile.  “And Mistress, what will my punishment be, if I may ask?”  She leaned in close and pressed her lips against mine, rubbing her tongue against my lips.  

When I made no move she said, “You may kiss back.”  I then opened my mouth and accepted her tongue, playing with it as she sucked on my tongue.  “That is your punishment for saving my life.”  She smiled and just as she walked out the door she said, “See you in the morning.”  And indeed she did.  I was even awarded a medal for my valor (I gave the medal to my Mistress, but she just gave it back).

“Let me see the scar.”  I leaned up and she traced the scar with her red fingernail.

“Mistress, may I return to the kitchen.  I don’t want dinner to burn.”  She nodded to my leave and I finished preparations for dinner and called her in.  I took my usual place next to her and sat while she ate the lemon pepper chicken and tossed salad that I had prepared for her.  As soon as she was finished she set the leftovers down in front of me, she didn’t even touch the second piece of chicken.  I hurriedly ate the meal and cleaned the dishes.  I looked at the clock, it was now nine.  Time for bed.  I shut off the lights in the kitchen and living room and then proceeded down the hall.  I knocked on my Mistress’ door.

“You may enter, slave.”  She said.  I came in and took my usual place beside my Mistress and lay down on the floor.  “You know.  Tonight I will let you sleep up here on the bed.”  Without any thought of hesitation I climbed onto the other side of the bed away from my Mistress.  “And I want you to sleep right here next to me slave.”  I moved right next to her and climbed under the covers.  She motioned for me to place my head on her breasts, I did as I was ordered.  I lay my head on her breast while she resumed her earlier hair stroking.

“You know slave, I think I will give you the day off tomorrow.”  She said.

“What do you mean Mistress?”  I asked.

“I’m going to call into work tomorrow and I will be the one who takes care of you.”

I was worried and even a little frightened because this did not sound like my Mistress, “What exactly are you saying Mistress?”

“Tomorrow will be a day for you.  I will wash you, cook for you, and will even give you a special reward for your devoted service tomorrow night.  Now sleep.”  Soon my eyes closed and I fell asleep.  

I woke up alone in the bed.  I quickly looked over at the alarm clock and saw that it read 8 o’clock.  “Shit.”  I said.  “Mistress is going to punish me for oversleeping.”  I got up and went to open her door when I saw the note attached to it.  The note read, “Slave.  Do not come out here.  I will bring you breakfast in bed, like you have done so many times to me.  This is an order and breaking it will bring about a severe punishment.”  I went back over to the bed and climbed in.  Suddenly, the Mistress came in carrying a tray of breakfast.

I jumped out of bed to go over and assist her but she stopped and gave me this glare.  “Back into bed.”  She said, practically growling.

“I was just trying to help Mistress.”  I replied.

“I know but I don’t need any help.  I told you about today and there’s nothing that you can do to change my decision.  Now just lay down on the bed and we’ll have breakfast together for the first time in a long time.”

“Yes Mistress.”  I replied and lay back down on the bed.  She set the tray on the bed, climbed on, and lay next to me.  She then slid the try up in between us.  There were pancakes, sausage, toast, and a fruit salad.  We ate in silence, sometimes feeding each other.

Finally, after a long period of silence she spoke up, “For today I want you to call me by my first name, understood.”  I felt like I was shot.

“But why Mistress?”  She just sat there.  “But why…Jenny.”  She smiled that flawless white smile of hers as she brushed some stray blonde hair from her beautiful blue eyes.

“Like I said.  This is your day off and I don’t want you to tie to anything that requires your normal duties.”  I nodded.  “Now hurry up, I’m going to give you a bath after breakfast.  Then I have to run a quick errand and tonight you’ll get a present and a reward.”  Again I nodded.

After breakfast Mistress…Jenny gave me a bath.  To be honest I was torn in two.  One side really loved the attention I was receiving and the other admonishing my behavior, because I had vowed to always serve and do as…Jenny told me to.  Even before the Mistress/slave thing, back when we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  She picked up on my submissiveness and suggested we try some domination.  I fell into the role of being a submissive rather easily and just never came out of it, nor did she seen to come out of her role as my Mistress.  So from that day on we just lived as Mistress and slave, sometimes going to bars that served others in what we were into.

As soon as the bath was over she dried me off and told me that she was leaving.  As she was heading out the door she said, “The only thing I want you to do is the dishes, understood?”  I nodded.  Now this one errand will take me a couple hours but I promise that I will be home by 4 o’clock.  Okay?”

“Yes…Jenny.”

“Why do you hesitate to say my name.”  She said.

“I’m just used to calling you Mistress, that’s all.”  She smiled and gave me a kiss on the cheek and left.  I immediately went into the kitchen and did the dishes in mere minutes.  Suddenly, the phone rang.  I picked the phone, “Hello.  Mistress Jenny’s.  This is her sub Gerry speaking.”

“It’s me.”  Jenny said.  “Have you finished doing the dishes yet?”

“Yes, Jenny.”  I replied.

“Good.  Now go into the living room, sit down on the couch, grab the DVD remote and press play.”  When I did two people in a bedroom popped up on the screen, the guy was tied to the bed, and the woman was pleasuring the guy with a feather.  The girl ran the feather up and all around his cock, balls, nipples, and then back down to his asshole.

“Do you like the movie?”  Jenny said.

“Yes.  I love it Jenny.”  I replied.

“Well, if you like it so much I want you to tell me something.”  She said.

“Yeah.”  I replied.

“Tell me what state of arousal you’re in.”  She whispered into the phone.

“I’m at full mast and as hard as a rock.”  Was my reply.  “Jenny?”

“Yes, Gerry.”  She replied.

“May I please masturbate?”  I practically begged to her.

It was odd because I could almost hear her smile, “No you may not.”  Was her reply.

“I really need to.”  I told her.

“I know.  That’s why I had you play the movie.  And my answer is still no.  I’m almost done here.”  There was a brief period of silence.  “I’ll be home in about 20 minutes, okay?”

“Yes.”  I sighed into the phone.  “By the way.  Where are you at?”

“I’m having your present made.”  She replied.

“Will I like this present?  Can you tell me anything about it?”

“You’ll really love the present and every time you feel it you’ll beg me to give to let you cum.  That’s all that I can tell you.  I’ll see you in a few, just relax and watch the rest of the movie.  Bye.”  Before I could say anything else she hung up the phone.

I relaxed on the couch and watched the rest of the movie.  After the woman was done pleasuring the guy with the feather, she started to give him a long, slow, blowjob.  The guy finally yelled out to her, “I’m gonna cum.”  The woman, a rather big-breasted blonde, took her mouth off of the guys cock for a couple of minutes.  The woman then mounted him and started to bounce up and down wildly on his cock until the guy then told her that he was going to cum.  The woman got up and walked to a bathroom, the camera followed her the entire time.  She went and retrieved a small blue bottle.  The camera zoomed in and in white letters the bottle read “KY LUBRICATING JELLY”.  The girl came in and started to spread the lube over her asshole (the camera also zoomed in on this too).  Then she went over to the guy and dropped about three big drops onto his cock, the guy hissed at the feel of the cool jelly.  The blonde slowly and expertly spread the lube over his cock.  The girl climbed on the bed and stood over the guy’s cock, rubbing it against her asshole.

Suddenly, the door unlocked and opened before I had the chance to get up.  Jenny quickly closed the door behind her.  “Good.  I didn’t think that I’d make it home to see the end.”  She then jumped over the back of the couch and landed in the empty space next to me, setting a white shopping bag down on the floor.  She pulled me closer to her and had me lay down on her smooth and now tan legs.  In fact every bit of skin I could see was tanned to a rich golden brown color.

She leaned forward a little inspecting my erection.  “Good.  Did you play with yourself while I was away?”

“No, Jenny.  I did not.”  She smiled down at me and then we continued to watch the rest of the movie.  The girl rubbed the guy’s cock against her asshole and then she slowly took it inch by inch until she had taken the entire thing.  She only bucked up and down a couple of times before the guy again moaned out his impending orgasm.  Again the girl dismounted, but this time she stuck his cock in between her tits and pushed them up only once when the guy gave a loud moan and shot his load.  Some went into her open mouth, some splattered on her face or neck, and some just shot up and landed back down onto her breasts.
After that, the movie and TV went off.  I looked up and Jenny had both of the remotes.  “I’ve got to go make dinner and I want you to try on your new present.”  She picked the bag up and tossed it to me.  “Go into the bathroom and try it on, then come into the kitchen so I can see how it looks on you.”

Jenny went into the kitchen and started to prepare dinner while I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.  There was then a knock on the door.  “Be careful opening that.”  Jenny said.

“Okay.”  I hollered back.  I then carefully opened the brown package.  Inside was something that felt to be made of silk.  I held the item up and it unfolded before my eyes.  It was a robe of sorts.  I turned the robe around and on the back was a red and black dragon.  It actually went pretty well with the bluish green color of the robe.  I put the robe on and was a little surprised when it ended just about my knees.  I opened the bathroom door and then I went out into the kitchen and gently tapped Jenny on the shoulder.  She spun around and smiled.  “I knew that you would look good in that.”  I just smiled back.  “That’s where I was.  I had it made just today.  A friend of mine, Gina (to her it was Gina, to me it was Mistress Gina), told me where to go where I could have some really good silk items made for a real good price.”  She pointed to the left side of my chest.  On it were some weird markings.  “That’s your name in Japanese.  Now go in the living and relax some, dinner ought to be done here in a few minutes.

I went in and lay down on the couch, thinking over the day that I just had, hoping that another day just like it would come around soon.  I just lay there as the silk robe brushed over my naked cock, causing the beginnings of an erection, when suddenly Jenny came in and told me that dinner was done.

I went into the kitchen and there on the table were two plates of barbecue ribs, some salad, and even some macaroni and cheese.  Also was an open bottle of champagne with two glasses already poured and waiting to be drunk.

Jenny moved to the table, I quickly got behind her chair and pulled it out for her.  Jenny sat down, looked up at me, and gave me a smile.  I felt I could have died right then and there and would’ve been happy.  I slid her chair up on the table and made the couple of steps to my chair and sat down next to Jenny.

We sat in silence for awhile eating our dinner.  Until finally, I broke the silence.  “So, why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

She looked hurt.  “I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?”

I nodded.  “Yes, you are but why are you doing all of this?”

“All of what honey?”

“Like that.  You call me honey, you cook for me, you bathed me, you let me watch a really cool porn movie and you had a silk robe with a really neat dragon on it made just for me.  I don’t really know what to expect out of you next.”

“Well, expect the unexpected.”  She said, giving me a smile that made me just a little suspicious of her.  

“Besides.  I have to have a talk with you later tonight.”  Again with that damn smile.

“About what?”  I asked.

“You’ll find out later.”  She replied.

We went through the rest of dinner in silence.  At one point, I don’t know when, but we actually started holding hands under the table; something that we hadn’t done since the first three or four months of our dating.  After dinner I helped Jenny do the dishes, the entire time she was smiling.  We had another couple of glasses of champagne when the clock struck nine o’clock.

We went into the bedroom and I flopped down onto the bed.  Jenny climbed atop me and looked into my eyes, “Take off your robe.”  I immediately did so.  Jenny reached above me and slid something smooth around my left wrist.  I looked and it was some kind of leather handcuff with a silken liner of some sort attached to a piece of rope.  She secured the hadncuff to my wrist and then proceeded to do my other wrist.  Finally, she did my ankles; I was now spread eagle on her bed barely able to move and for some reason was getting very turned on by this.

“Jenny, what are you doing?”  I asked slightly worried.  “Have I done anything to displease you?”

She just smiled.  “You know, I’m tired of it all.”

“What, what is it?  Whatever it is I promise you that I can change it.”  I pleaded with her.

“You’re the problem.”  She said.

“What do you mean?”  I asked.

“Your submissiveness.  I can’t stand it anymore.  I mean I love all the attention that you shower me with, your gentleness when you wash my body, and all the dozens of other things that you do.  But it’s boring.  I loved it at first but now it sucks.  You never want to have sex, all you do is go down on me; granted you are very good at it, but I need a good fucking.  I haven’t even given you a handjob in two years.  No, tonight it all ends.”  She licked her lips and started to crawl up my body kissing along the way, the way that I always did to her before I went down on her.

She made her way up my legs, kissing my cock head and balls, before continuing up to my nipples until they were hard and pointed.  She moved back down and started to gently lick and kiss my cock until it was harder than it had been since we started to do the master/slave thing.  Suddenly, she took most of my 7 ½ inches into her mouth.  She started to suck as if this were our last night on earth.  Before I realized it, I was moaning.  ‘God, it feels great.’  I thought to myself.




My Mistress



“Jenny, swing around so I can bring you off too.”  I said.

Jenny let her teeth graze my cock as she let it slip from her mouth.  She looked up at me and said, “No, we’re not doing any of that tonight.  I’m going to suck you to the point where you’re about to cum, stop, and then I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

Jenny took the entire length of my cock back into her mouth and started to suck.  “Damn.”  I moaned out to her.  “I forgot what your blowjobs were like.”  Jenny was the best head giver that I had ever encountered.  Somehow it always felt like my cock was in a vacuum cleaner.  She nearly brought me off twice.  “Jenny, please fuck me.”

She released my cock and looked up at me again, “No begging.  I want you to stop that submissive shit.  I want you to tell me what you want.”

She knew this is where I’d have the most trouble.  Finally, after three more near orgasms.  I finally broke down.  “Jenny.”  She looked up at me.  “Stop sucking my cock and fuck me.  Fuck me hard.  Fuck me until I pass out.”  She smiled.  She moved up and straddled my chest, her wet pussy dripping juices onto my stomach.  She leaned up and gave me a French kiss.

“I knew you could do it baby.”  Jenny said.  She slid down my body, leaving a trail of her juices.She raised my cock up and rubbed the head right against her lips, our juices combining to make our lubrication.  
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.  “Quit messing around and fuck me.”  I practically growled to her.  She smiled and in one fell swoop impaled her pussy with my hard rod.  We both moaned out in unison.  Enjoying our first sex session in years.  Jenny rode me hard from the beginning.  Bouncing up and down, her breasts creating a hypnotic rhythm.

At last, I couldn’t take it anymore.  “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”  I told Jenny.

She replied, “So am I.  I’m so close.  OH FUCK.  HERE I CUMMMMM!!”  As soon as she said this I felt her pussy muscles clenching, pulling to get my cum into her hot cunt.  Finally, I lost it and came deep in her pussy.  Waves of pleasure washed over me to the point where I blacked out.  When I woke up, Jenny was untying me.

“You’re finally awake.  I never even dreamed that you’d pass out on me.”  She crawled up and lay on my chest.

“Here, lean up for a second.”  She did and I scooted us closer to “my side” of the bed.  Jenny then lay back down on me.

I stroked her hair and asked, “Jenny, remember that day in the mall when I just disappeared from you?”

“Yeah.”  She replied, “And later that night I paddled your ass ten times.”

“Well, I actually got you something.”

“Oh.”  She replied.  “What did you get me?”

I reached over to my little dresser drawer and pulled it open and pulled a purple velvet box out.   I put it in front of her and opened the box, “Jenny.  Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Jenny took the box, leaned up and gave me another kiss, but this one seemed more passionate.  “Yes, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that?”  I asked.

“Only if we quit the domination thing.”  She said.

“For you, I’d do anything.”  I replied.  Jenny lay back down on my chest and put on her new engagement ring.  Slowly she fell asleep as I gently stroked her soft blonde hair.  When she finally did fall asleep, I noticed that she had a smile on her face. 



My Mistress



She watched as he slipped the glossy black leather carefully over her foot, his progress painfully slow as her shimmering nails disappeared beneath the final strap. She sensed the tremor in his hands, wondered at his control. She allowed a quick glance at the clock, saw there was plenty of time, and smiled to herself. He would fail, she decided. 

She flexed her foot slightly and he froze. She relaxed, touched his bowed head. “Time is short, my slave..”

He continued. Was his head hanging lower still? She couldn’t be sure, but thought so. The thought brought another smile to her full lips. Her nails emerged from beneath the strap. He paused again as they came in to view. His muscles tensed and she traced their lines with her eyes. Along his forearm, over his bicep where the vein stood out and pulsed with his heart, over his shoulders, up his neck to his face. He showed no emotion, only continued sliding the shoe on to her dangling foot. 

She touched him on the shoulder and he froze again. “Do you not see, my slave?” She spoke gently, but the force in her voice was unmistakable. He was motionless and did not respond. Good boy, she thought. She let her the tip of her index finger trail along his shoulder, over his neck, pausing to feel his heart racing there, then along under his chin. She lifted his head toward her slowly. He faced her, diverting his eyes automatically. “You may speak, dear. I asked you a question.”

“Yes, my Mistress. I see.”

“Yet you continued.”

He did not speak, only lowered his head slightly.

“Would you have Mistress go out imperfect?” She stood suddenly, towered over him. Raising her voice now, she continued. “Perhaps you would like your Mistress embarrassed in public this evening? Is that your desire, slave? To wait here, knowing Mistress is out in this state?! THIS WOULD GIVE YOU PLEASURE, SLAVE?!!”

She watched from above as he trembled, head lower still. He would not cry, she knew. She taught him very early, very harshly, how she felt about tears from a man. Still, despite his absence of tears, she knew how her words stung him. She knew his feelings for her perhaps better than he knew them himself. She stood over him, letting the silence that followed her bitter words speak to him. 

Sternly now…”Answer my question, slave.”

He whispered harshly through pressed lips, still looking at the floor. “No my Mistress. Never. Never.”

She lowered herself to her seat again, crossed her legs so that her foot, the shoe dangling from her toes, was before his face. She watched him closely, could see the urge rise in him. She wondered again at his self-control. Speaking softly again…”What pleases you then, slave?” She knew the answer before he even spoke it, but still the words made her own heart race. 

“Your pleasure, my Mistress. Only your pleasure pleases me.”

She gripped the edge of the chair with her hand in hopes of controlling her own voice. He would not hear his effect on her. “Again, my slave. Gather your things and be quick. Time is short.”

He rose before her, nodded to her and backed away slowly, never turning his back on her. He gathered the polish remover, cotton, and polish and returned to his knees before her. 

She watched as he removed the shoe, then took her foot in his hands and began to remove the polish he’d applied earlier that evening. She focused on the third toe, the small blemish barely visible on an otherwise glassy surface. Just a smudge really, and not something anyone would ever notice otherwise. He applied the remover then, and it was gone. She checked the clock and knew that his next attempt would find success. She sighed to herself, sorry in a way. Still, she should enjoy the moment, his soft and gentle touch as he applied a fresh coat of lacquer. Yes, she would let him finish this time and look forward to the rest of the evening she had planned. 

She read a magazine as he worked, but found it hard to focus on the articles. The familiar stirring in her mid-section kept her thoughts drifting to the evening ahead. She remembered this same feeling from her childhood, waiting in line to ride the boardwalk roller coasters or lying in bed the night before a big trip. Later in her life, this feeling had disappeared entirely. She was frightened when she first felt it again, just over a year ago. The first time he visited her. She’d considered fleeing from the feeling, forbidding him to come anymore. Instead, she confronted her fear. Later still, she embraced it. She’d made him hers, and now she reveled in this feeling almost daily.  

She realized he’d finished and was waiting for her. Lost in her thoughts, she did not know how long he’d been waiting. She paused a moment longer, then lowered the magazine and leaned to consider his work. She checked carefully, knowing they would be perfect and finding them so. “Yes, darling. Proceed.”

His next action surprised her, touched her. He raised the shoe, but instead of putting it on her, he wet a swab with remover and cleaned inside the strap that she’d touched her toe to earlier. The slightest touch of red polish removed from it, he dried it with another swab and then slipped it over her foot. She watched his speed. Too quickly would show that he knew he would succeed and be cause for action. But no, of course. Instead, he proceeded even more cautiously than the last time. Slowly, he laced the strap around her ankle. She noticed the tremor in his fingertips. A small reward for him was in order for his attention, she knew. Perhaps a small reward for herself as well.

She rose, touched him gently. “Wait on the couch, dear. I will call when you are needed.” She watched as he stood, eyes never leaving the floor. He nodded, whispered “as you wish, my Mistress.” and backed around the corner to the living room. 

She walked to the bathroom, paused to check herself in the full mirror. Her long, black hair hung loosely over her shoulders, touched her pale skin between her shoulder blades. Dark eye shadow, mascara, applied perfectly, lovingly. Her crimson lips stood out, matched the freshly painted nails on her hands and feet. Her nipples showed sparingly through the black lace bra. Her eyes glided over her stomach to her panties, matching black lace, her tightly trimmed pubic mound almost imperceptible beneath them. She breathed deeply, her breasts swelling, and smelled the powder he’d applied last. Yes, he’d done well. He would be rewarded.

She lowered her panties and was not surprised to find them damp. Her anticipation of Saturday evenings seemed to begin earlier and earlier in the week, and she spent the whole of Saturday indulging in fantasies of the night that lie ahead. Sitting on the toilet, she peed into the bowl, flexing herself to control the flow. Satisfied with her control, she relaxed and let her bladder spill its contents entirely. Reaching back to flush, feeling the cool rush of air between her legs, she waited for the water to stop running.

“Slave.” She did not raise her voice. She knew he would be listening for her. He appeared in the doorway quickly, eyes on the floor and hands crossed before his thighs. She could see his cock pulsing in his pants and smiled.

“Slave, you have done well this evening.” She awaited his response to her compliment, one of the few times he could speak without prompt. 

“Thank you, my Mistress.”

“Yes, my dear. Very well. As I am kind and giving, I will overlook your earlier mistakes. You shall be rewarded. Do you wish to choose your reward, my slave?”

A wordless shake of his head was his only response.

“Of course not. Well then…you may clean Mistress…”

He lowered himself slowly to his knees, then further to all fours. He proceeded slowly across the cold tile floor toward her, tremors visible in his taught muscles. She raised one flexible leg, resting her 6-inch spiked heel on the edge of the seat as he approached. Her labia closed tightly around her, a tight slit in her otherwise smooth white skin. Drops of her urine glistened there. 

He paused before her. She worked to steady her voice. “Yes, my slave.”

His tongue felt like fire on her skin. He worked carefully, slowly, savoring his reward. Her mind spun as she watched him, his tongue lighting on each drop, drawing it between his lips. He was careful not to violate her. A small moan escaped his lips as he drew in the last drop. He began to withdraw, but she placed her hand on his head and held him there. She lowered her lips to his ear, breathed in to it softly…”on your back, slave…”

She released his head and he obeyed her, lying before the toilet. She smiled down at him, rose, and lowered herself over his face. She hovered there, inches above him, and let him wait for a minute. She felt his hot breath on her and was excited by it. Reaching out with one hand, she pulled his black t-shirt from his pants and exposed his stomach. She let her fingertips glide over his tight skin for a moment before speaking again. “you may taste your Mistress, slave.”

His tongue pressed against her slit again, this time more forcefully, parting her labia and exposing the delicate pink skin beneath. He licked her delicately, the tip of his tongue progressing along her slit. She fought the urge to quiver above him, pressed her nails in to his stomach in her fight for control. Finally, giving in to her desire, she whispered to him…”Please me, slave. Please your Mistress…”

She pressed down on his face as she spoke, catching the low moan from his lips. It vibrated her clit, seemed to penetrate her body, and she shook involuntarily. She smothered his face with herself, holding her clit to his mouth. He responded in kind, caressing it with is tongue, nipping at it, finally sucking it between his lips. The wave crashed over her suddenly and she fell to one knee for balance. She felt the rush of warm liquid escape her, heard it splash to the tile around his head. He swallowed loudly, thirstily, before continuing on her clit, slowing his tongue to small, caressing circles. She felt warm wetness beneath her hand and looked at her fingers. Her nails had bitten him again, and his blood was smeared over his stomach in streaks beneath her fingers. She let them slip in to the blood pooling in the crescent shaped wounds, felt his warmth, then raised them to her lips and tasted him. He moaned beneath her again. She stayed in place, looked at his wounds and the collection of small scars surrounding the area. Her marks.

She stood abruptly, her heels clicking loudly on the tile. “Kneel.” she commanded. He did so. She lowered herself before him, eyes locked on his. He avoided her gaze respectfully. Her lips passed over his, almost touching. She breathed in her scent on him. Testing him, she lit her tongue on his lips, tasting herself on him. He shivered but remained otherwise still. Her tongue touched the small scar on his lower lip. Her mark, again. She let it linger there, then withdrew it. Eyes still on him, she remained close to him, so close that a deep breath would bring their bodies together. The millimeter of air between them was thick with tension. She wondered for a moment whose desire was stronger. 

Finished with him for now, she rose and settled against the sink. Wordlessly, he picked up her panties and slid them over her ankles, then pulled them on to her. She let him kneel before her for a moment, gazing down at him. Finally tracing his cheekbone with a long red nail, she whispered “Thank you, Thomas.” His eyes filled, but no tears spilled out. She stood finally. Turning on him, she spoke. “Clean the floor, slave, and then fetch my dress.”

Walking out of the bathroom, she tried to sense his eyes on her. She felt nothing and wondered once more at his amazing control…

Continued…



My Mistress



Hey there! How's it going?

My name is Andrew Scott Nelson or Drew for short and I am a sissy white slut to the most amazingly drop dead gorgeous Chocolate Mistress ever! 

Here let me give you a little background on myself and my mistress before I really get into this story. I'll start with my background.

I am 36yrold 6'1 130lbs green eyed submissive bisexual white male. One who has long dark brown hair a very nice 7 ½ inch dick and I just happen to have the best ass, legs, arms and abs this side of the Mississippi. I don't mean to toot my own horn by hey when you got it then well you got it. I'm the owner of a small yet very successful software company here in the DC area. I'm no dumb ass either. I graduated from American University with top honors in Business Administration mind you. These attributes are things that please my mistress as well because my Goddess hates unemployed (without good reason of course) and uneducated men. I'm a very lively person once you get to know me. 

Although I am a very well educated and successful man I'm also a person with a very slutty side. I have a few fetishes that I just adore to indulge. I love cross-dressing! I think it's so sexy for men like me to wear women's clothing, heels, make up and lingerie. It makes me feel so slutty to parade around like that. My other fetish is being dominated and fucked in and out of my slutty attire by both men and women. I love being a submissive slut! I love having my ass, dick and balls used and abused by all however they see fit. 

I absofuckinlutely love big women and beautiful black men! (Yes I know, "absofuckinlutely" isn't a word but just go with it.) Everything about them just oozes mounds of sexiness! But not just any group of big women. No I particularly love big black women to be exact. Yes I am a total slut for sexy chocolate men and big women. 

Now this is part where my sexy mistress comes in. This woman has put a trance on me that I hope never breaks. 

I met her 6 years ago at a kinky costume party a friend of mine was throwing she was 18 and I was 30. I saw her from across the room and was instantly hooked on her. She had on this policewoman outfit coupled with these killer leather boots both accentuated her so beautifully I almost came in my pants. Myself on the other hand came dressed as a naughty schoolgirl. (Hey it was a kinky costume party after all). We made eye contact after I spent 30 minutes gawking at her, when we did she smiled at me which made my pre cum leak down my legs. 

She motioned for me to come closer and when I did she asked me if I wanted to dance with her in which I was thrilled to do so. We danced for what seemed like the longest 45 minutes of my life. I had to keep my excitement at bay as she rubbed and ground her thick sexy chocolate ass against my crotch. I wanted her so bad at that point, and I kind of sensed she knew that I did. At that moment my dick decided to stab her ass and I knew then I was in trouble. She giggled and told me to follow her upstairs to one of my friends' bedrooms. It took every ounce of God given restraint I had in me not rape her as I watched her ass slowly move when she walked up the stairs. 

Once inside one of the guest rooms she slid her hand under my skirt and groped my balls, it caused me to jump a little bit. She then told me to get on the bed with my face down and my ass up I was more than eager to obey her command. It made me rock hard as she groped and massaged my ass, dick and balls through my skirt. She pulled my skirt off revealing my g-string and told me to wiggle my ass while she rubbed it down with hot massage oil. When she was through rubbing my ass down she pulled my g-string to the side and shoved one finger up my ass. I was in heaven then! She finger fucked me for what seemed like forever! 

When she stopped fucking my ass, I was a little disappointed because I didn't want her to stop but disappoint didn't stay with me for very long because she told me to undress her and I was more than happy to do as she asked. I took my time undressing and savoring her body. She was totally intoxicating to me that night. We licked, sucked, kissed, fucked and fondled each other for the remainder of the night. I offered to give her a ride home in which she gave me her number on the way there. Eventually we started dating then moved in together after I bought my townhouse because I just had to be her live in slut boy and the rest is pretty much ancient history between us. 

Oh God that woman I swear! Just talking about the lovely Tameka Sherlynne Collins just excites the shit out of me! She's just like I said a drop dead gorgeous Chocolate Mistress. She's this 5'11, 280lbs, milk chocolate skinned, lusciously long legged, flawless full lips, luxuriously long burgundy haired (she dyed her hair that color) and brown bedroom eyed Goddess. As a BBW she carries herself quite well. She's thick in all the right places like her ass, her hips, her lips, her tits and her thighs. She's very smart graduating UDC with a degree in Liberal Arts and works in HR for the State Dept. This woman is very career driven, aggressive and focused for someone at 24 much like me at my age. And my God this woman has one hell of a kinky side to her! She's very into turning men (like me) into her own personal fuck toys.

I love how she uses me as her little slut boy. She takes my ass and make it gaping wet in any and every way that she can. She parades me around in my slutty clothes and even lets others fuck my ass while she watches and eventually joins in. When we go out she always carries a few dildos and/or strap-ons in her purse just so she can drag me to the bathroom, dark corner or changing room to take my slutty ass. She loves to finger then rim my ass right before she takes me and I just love it. 

When we go to parties and clubs I get excited because there are times where she's fucked me and let me fuck her on the dance floor. I love how she happily paddles, spanks, violates and whips my slut boy ass as she sees fit. I also love how she willing to indulge me by fucking me with anything she gets her hands on and makes me dance and model for her and sometimes her friends. But I really love the fact that this woman has no problem showing the world how much of a slut I am to her. 

Let me tell about a shopping trip we once had...................

I needed some new business suits and my Mistress wanted some new window treatments for the Master bedroom and a new evening gown so we made a plan to go shopping. We went to this store in Laurel that makes really good business suits. While there my Mistress fondled me all throughout the store which got me hot and bothered. I wanted her to fuck me right then and there but she didn't. Instead she ordered me to the changing room after we picked out a few suits we thought would look good on me (she's quite the fashionista I might add) and that's when the fun began. 

Once inside the changing room I tried on the suits and modeled them for my Mistress. And once she and I were happy with the selections, I was told by my Goddess to strip down to my pretty pink panties and socks. She told me to dance for her and I was very happy to do so because I knew she'd be fucking me soon. I wiggled, giggled, rubbed and gyrated my body for my Ebony Mistress's pleasure. I made sure to give her a lap dance so she could feel my bulging cock and pretty ass. Seeing her in that tight black sundress she had on made my cock throb ten times harder than it already was.

She told me to bend over facing the mirror in front of me and spread my ass cheeks which I did. That's when I felt her pull my pretty panties down to my ankles and I felt her warm wet tongue against my crinkled hole. Ooh God I love it when she rims my ass! The feeling of her tongue going up and down my ass then in and out my asshole made me moan loudly. When I did she smacked my ass and told me to shut up before they threw us out. So I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip as she went back to rimming my ass. Oh my God! When I tell you this woman could work magic with her tongue I mean every last word of it! 

When she was finished she told me not to move because she wasn't done with me yet. I heard her purse open then close and instantly I knew she had gotten out one of her strap-ons. I was giddier than a schoolgirl on the last day of school I tell you! She told me to wiggle my ass for her in which I did. I heard her purse open then close again but this time I had no idea what she had pulled out. I would soon find it was lube because I something cold and wet dripping down my ass. She massaged the lube into my asshole then proceeded to jam her strap-on into my hole. I yelped as she began fucking me shitless so to keep me quiet she shoved my sock into my mouth. 

She was relentlessly invading my asshole with her strap-on and giggling while she did. Oh she was filling me up so right man! I felt like a total slutty whore because of her. She was taking my ass and I wasn't gonna stop her from doing it. She pulled out of my ass and ordered me to get on the little bench in the changing room with my ass sticking out at her which I did with the greatest enthusiasm. I moaned softly as she resumed her pummeling of my ass. My ass felt like it was being ripped apart but I didn't care I wanted her to pound me into a sensuous oblivion. 

I could feel the cum in my balls boiling up and I knew I wouldn't last so I asked my mistress for permission to ride her strap-on. She stopped, pulled out of my ass and told me that permission was granted. When I stood up I saw her 9" strap-on was glistening with my ass juices and being a man who hates wasting sweet bodily fluids like that, I dropped to my knees and gave her a quick blowjob before watching her sit down and I straddled her. She flashed her trademark smirk then impaled her strap-on into my ass and fucked me until I blew my massive load all over my chest. I was spent and my ass was sore just the way my Goddess liked. 

She kissed me on my cheek then told me to be a useful slut and please her pussy so she could cum too. I was way too happy to do just as she told me to. I went headfirst into her epicenter. I inhaled her scent before devouring her sweet womanly nectar. 

I dragged my tongue up and down her pussy lips until they opened and that's when I started sucking on her engorged clit. I could my mistress was pleased with my serving her because she grabbed my head and began grinding my face into her hungry pussy. That told me that she was not only enjoying herself but she was close to cumming as well. I upped my speed and truly began attacking her sweet chocolate pussy so she would drench my face with the remainder of her nectar. 

I knew she was close because her legs wrapped around my neck and squeezed tightly. So I jammed two fingers inside her sopping wet snatch and that was all my mistress needed. I felt her legs shake as she shuddered and flooded my mouth and face with her pussy juices. I lapped up every last drop like a hungry kitten does milk. She was still shaking a little bit as we looked at each other and smiled. We quickly cleaned up, got dressed then left with my suits in tow. We never did get her dress or the window treatments not that it mattered. 

That is just one of the many adventures My Chocolate Mistress and I have shared together. And believe you me there many more to come...