5 comments/ 112015 views/ 3 favorites Just My Imagination By: sweetnpetite Author's note: this is not my usual "stroke story" but something a little bit different. I hope you enjoy! My husband Scott and I were lying in bed cuddling after enjoying a long afternoon of kinky sex. “Do you want me to take this off?” he asked, running his fingers over the thick leather dog collar that encircled my neck. It was impressed with metallic diamond-shaped studs all the way around and a metal ring at the back of my neck had been hooked to a very short leash which Scott had held onto as he fucked my ass commanding me to growl and beg for more. “No leave it there. I like the way it feels,” I said, stroking the sun-bleached hair on his tanned arms. It wasn’t the first time that we had played wild kinky sex-games like this. In fact it probably wasn’t even the hundredth. “That was really hot,” I told him. “But it seems like we never try anything new anymore.” “Is there anything left to try?” he asked with a chuckle. “Well, yeah. I’m sure there’s lots of things. We couldn’t have done everything!” “Well, I know, but I mean anything else that we’d want to try. It seems like we’ve done everything two people can do that doesn’t gross one or both of us out.” “Two people, huh? You may have something there, boy.” “Denise, what are you thinking?” I could see the excitement in his eyes, the hope that I would suggest what every man dreams about. “Well…. You know that guy Barry that you work with?” I could see him bristle. I almost wished I hadn’t said anything, yet it was out there now, so I decided to follow through. “Come on don’t be that way. If I had suggested another girl, you’d have been all for it.” He sat up, pulling the sheets around his broad smooth chest. “That’s different,” he said shortly. “How?” I asked, fighting not to become defensive. “Well for one thing, I don’t swing that way so it’s just icky. And for another, I’m not going to let- forget about watch- another man fuck my wife. Christ Denise. Is that what you’re trying to tell me? I’m not man enough for you anymore? You need some other man’s cock instead?” “No baby, of course that’s not what I’m saying.” I tried to touch a lock of hair from his forehead, but he jerked away. “I love your cock. I love you. If we had a threesome with another woman, would that mean that I wasn’t enough for you?” He thought about the implications of his answer and his face softened just a touch. “No, of course not.” “Well, I’m not saying that either. I just want to spice up our love life a little, that’s all.” “It’s still different. I don’t think I could control my jealousy. And it would just be too- too gay. It wouldn’t feel right at all That‘s just way too much testosterone in one bed.” “Well, I’d feel the same way with another woman, but I’d be willing to put those feelings aside if I thought- if I knew, that you where willing to do the same for me.” “Are you saying that if I- that you’d-” I twirled a lock of my auburn hair and batted my eyes. “It would certainly help your case,” I whispered softly. I could see him warming to the idea some so I went in for the kill. “You wouldn’t have to do anything with him. And you could use someone else if you preferred. In fact, I’ve got this scenario in mind that won’t compromise your masculinity one bit.” “Ok, let’s hear it,” he said with a sigh. After I told him my fantasy about him and a buddy pretending to gang up on me and take me against my will, I reached down between his legs to feel that my story had the effect that I had hoped. I rolled over on top of him, pretended to nip at his nose and growled, “Fuck me again, cowboy. I wanna ride the range!” Scott works in construction, both he and Barry are tanned and toned and taken together have almost more testosterone than one woman can handle. I knew this well before I suggested our little tryst because I often visited my husband at work, bringing him lunch and sometimes ‘borrowing’ him for ‘important errands.” Plenty of times, I’d come in quietly and overhear the guys exchanging randy jokes or comments before they had a chance to notice me. Not that I was spying on my hubby, its just that I find him so sexy when he’s in his natural environment, surrounded by male colleagues and buddies with no need to act refined and gentlemanly. Hell, the man’s sexy no matter what he’s doing, and just the thought of him most days is enough to get my panties wet. Scott and Barry where like two sides to the same sexy coin. Think Bo and Luke Duke on steroids and hormone injections. Scott has thick dark hair and eyes and sexy dark eyebrows. He’s tall and muscular in a slender not bulky way. He impressed me early on with his ability to lift me off the ground with one arm, and since then has impressed me numerous times by actually holding me up against the bathroom wall while we screwed. Barry’s not quite as tall as Scott and has wider shoulders and a broader chest. His arms are thick and muscular as are his legs. Nothing about his body is overdone, though, he’s built to the point of perfection and his California-blond good looks and deep sexy blue eyes complete the package. I also knew that he had a thing for me. I’d caught him staring at me so many times that I often wondered if Scott was only pretending not to notice. It wasn’t until later that I found out that Scott new he was checking me out on account of the nude pictures of me Scott had flashed at work one day. He had asked him to stop gawking, but Barry had just laughed and hinted that he wouldn’t want Barry cluing me in about the photos so Scott just tried to ignore it. Scott and Barry weren’t exactly friends, but Scott didn’t let Barry’s interest in me get in the way of their work relationship. He made a point to act as if it wasn’t a big deal anymore because he knew that the more he reacted, the more obnoxious his co-worker would have become. Still it was more than obvious each time I visited that Barry was checking out my ass every chance he got, that his eyes lingered on the low v-neck of the blouses I favored, that he was just itching to reach out and pinch one of those luscious plump packages. When I would run my hands through my waist length reddish-brown hair, he would stop mid-sentence, forgetting what he had been saying. A friendly touch on his shoulder made a visible change in the fit of his jeans, and the numerous other ways which I enjoyed toying with his attraction for me always rewarded me with equally flattering reactions. My husband at first thought that Barry would be the wrong person to involve in my little fantasy, but I quickly convinced him that he was the perfect one. We already knew that he was interested and that he would likely do just about anything for a shot with me, so there was little risk of an embarrassing situation that involves a co-worker looking at you as if you’re the sickest bastard on the planet. We both felt too, that he could be trusted to be fairly discreet. Barry was a pig, but not really one to put his business out there. Now all there was for me to do was to wait for my husband to talk to him and handle the details. The next day when Scott went to work, I couldn’t get any house work done. I felt wild with excitement as I imagined Barry’s face when my husband approached him with the proposition of fucking his wife. I figured Barry would think Scott was yanking his chain but once he convinced him that the opportunity was for real, he would be all for it. Imagining Barry’s feelings of anticipation at the event, I found myself touching myself, and the next thing I knew, warm soapy dishwater was finding its way into all my secret places and I was on the linoleum in a puddle not entirely originating from the kitchen faucet. While attempting to make the bed, my mind drifted to the thought of the two men pushing me back on the mattress, one of them holding me firmly while the other pounded his thick hard meat into me. I ended up in a tangle of sheets and blankets which were no longer clean, but covered in perspiration and other bodily fluids. In the shower after that event, my mind formed an image of Scott holding me up against the bathroom wall, driving into me as he recalled our threesome, saying, “You really liked being tied up and fucked by two hard cocks didn’t you, my hot little slut?” I fingered myself furiously and came in the shower three times. I was so fucking horny, I just couldn’t wait for the news, I put on my shortest skirt, a loose low-cut silk blouse and a pair of heals and hopped into the car, speeding off for Scott’s current work site. The whole crew looked me up and down with whistles and cat-calls as I found my way to my husband. He was hammering some nails into a floor board or something and Barry was shooting me lascivious looks from far across what would soon be a room. Scott wiped a grimy hand across his sweaty forehead and noticed me for the first time. “Denise! What are you doing here?” “I’m not wearing any panties,” I told him, and he was in a perfect position to check for himself. “And I’m wishing I were that nail you’re hammering right now.” He put the hammer down and stood up to wrap his arms around me and kiss me long and deep. More whistles and catcalls could be heard from his co-workers. “Have you asked him yet?” I whispered. “He’ll do it,” Scott whispered back. “He’s got a few requests- I don’t think they’ll be anything you’d mind.” “I want you right now, can you get outta here?” “Sure,” he told me, then turned to his crew (did I ever mention that my incredible husband was the boss?) and said, “I’m taking off for an early lunch. You guys keep up the good work.” The crew know what we where up too, that’s what made it so funny that they quite with the catcalls and went quietly back to work. They all pretended not to notice as Scott and I went together into the one finished bathroom on the site and proceeded to fuck each other silently on the toilet seat. “Let’s go get something to eat,” Scott said. “We can take your car.” We readjusted our clothes and Scott followed me to my car, where I drove us to a little café nearby. I love it when Scott has me drive, it’s his way of letting me know that I’m in charge for the moment. We picked a dark corner in the back of the restaurant and ordered soup and sandwiches. “So let’s have the details,” I told him, as his hand reached back up my skirt to finger my insatiably damp pussy. Thank goodness for checkered table-clothes! While we waited for our order to arrive, my handsome hubby fingered my excited clit and told me about their discussion. I had been right about Scott having to convince Barry that he was serious, but that once he had; Barry was willing to be Scott’s new best friend. He’d even had some suggestions to make the fantasy even hotter. “He wants to buy your outfit,” Scott told me. “Ok, did he say what it was going to be?” “No, he wants it to be a surprise. Is that ok so far?” “Sure, give him my sizes!” “Already did,” Scott smiled. “I didn’t think you’d mind.” I grinned wildly. “I don’t. What else?” “Well, he wants it to be outside, at night. You still onboard?” That wasn’t how I had imagined it, but it was a rape fantasy after all, I couldn’t have everything my way. Well, I could, I suppose, but where would the excitement be in that? In the end, I decided it would be more fun to give up control and see what happened. “Sure, I can handle that. Just make sure he knows that I don‘t want to really get hurt. If things get out of hand, I want someway to be able to stop it.” “I thought of that too. We agreed on a safe word- police- that should be easy enough to remember, right? Just don’t say it if you don’t want to stop.” “OK, that will work. We can trust him right? He’s not going to try to pull anything?” “I asked him that and he swears. I reminded him who he works for and threatened him bodily harm if he hurt you in any way. I think he knows I was serious.” “God, you turn me on when you talk like this.” “Meet me in the men’s room,” he said, excusing himself from the table. The next day after work, Scott brought me the clothes that Barry had bought for me to wear. I gasped when I opened the plain white box to find a naughty schoolgirl outfit complete with white cotton panties and high heeled Mary-Janes. “I guess he’s got the same Britney Spears fantasy as you!” I told my husband. “We’ve discussed it,” he sheepishly admitted. “Wanna try it on for me?” “No, I want it to be a surprise. Do we have a time and date yet?” “Saturday night. He wants you to go to the late show alone and stay to watch all the credits.” I smiled at that. I love watching the credits to the end but unfortunately I don’t know anyone- including my husband who shares in my appreciation for the hard work of a good best-boy. “Then leave using the door that empties at the back of the building. The theater should be abandoned by then.” A shiver of anticipation went up my spine. “You know, baby, you can imagine what I’d look like with that short plaid skirt pushed up around my waist. My husband growled and pounced on me. Three hours later, we where flipping the cushions over on the couch. Five minutes later, I was caressing his chest, “Want to go again?” The next day, my husband was barely out the door when I was reaching for my new clothes, and shimmying into the barely there outfit. Bending one inch in any direction revealed my white cotton panties beneath the pleated red plaid mini. A white lacy half-cup push up bra gave me extra cleavage but left my nipples exposed. The white shirt provided just barely provided legal coverage, taking into consideration that all of the buttons had been pulled off. I knotted the bottom and sucked in my tummy. Not bad. I admired my profile in the full length mirror behind the door. White thigh highs and platform Marry-Janes almost completed the look. I giggled when I notice two fuzzy pink pompon ponytail holders in the bottom of the box. I gave myself two high pigtails and swished my head back and forth. The end result was so exaggeratingly sexy, it was almost cartoonish. I hoped that I would be allowed to wear a long coat into the cinema; otherwise they might not even sell me a ticket! I peered at my reflection and ran my hands over my body. My five foot stature now raised to five-eight with the addition of combination platform high-heeled black patent leather shoes. My breasts pushed up and out straining against the thin fabric of the little white top. My hazel eyes searched over my body, appreciating my own smooth shapely legs fully revealed thanks to my barely there skirt. I ran my hands over my overflowing bosom and down my firm tummy, curving over my cotton covered sex and caressing my creamy silken-clad legs. A song suddenly popped into my head and I began to sing, “Oops, there goes my shirt up over my head- oh my!” as I untied the tiny white cloth and flung it over my head. I continued to hum the tune as I removed the panties and ran my hands over the shaved area between my legs. Luxuriantly I ran my fingers over the area, teasing myself thoroughly. I wiggled my hips as I swung around and shook my tush at the mirror. I ran my hands over my ass, lifting my skirt and turning my head to watch the action. I gyrate to the rhythm of the music in my head, exploring my body sensuously, creating my own personal striptease. I flipped my hair, and licked my fingers, giving my hips a sassy swing. I leaned forward so my skirt would creep up exposing the fullness of my cheeks and playfully spanking myself. I shimmy and shake my hind end, slapping myself harder until I actually cry out. I imagine strong hands pushing me down on the floor, invading my space, devouring my body, violating me. In my head I hear deep husky male voices. “She likes to shake her ass, she’s a little tease. Let’s teach her a lesson boys.” I swivel back to face the mirror and drop to my knees. I hear imaginary zippers sliding down and close my eyes so that I can feel the warmth of a hard penis against my cheek. My hair is pulled back by invisible hands and I feel imaginary breath on my neck as a stranger sounding mysteriously like my husband whispers, “Suck it, you little cock tease.” My fingers search for and find the folds of my velvety cunt lips, moist from my illicit imaginings. I work in and out digging and plucking at my sodden sex, rolling, strumming and pinching. I opened my eyes and hiked the front of my skirt. Remaining on my knees, I spread my legs opened as far as I could so that I could witness the nasty action taking place in my looking-glass. I watched my finger flicking my clit, and exploring within. I pushed two fingers up inside of myself. “Give her a good dick-slapping,” I hear the illusory stranger say from behind me. I close my eyes again, imaging the warm hard cock being slapped over my cheeks, as my fingers move furiously. I envision the sticky wetness of pre-come leaving a damp trail across my lips and skin. “Oh she’s a good little cock-sucker, you’ll see,” says the coarse voice behind my ear. I make-believe that he is pulling my hair again, forcing my mouth open. I put three fingers from my free hand in my mouth to simulate the dick that I am supposedly being forced to suck. My fingers fly furiously over my clit as I slobber all over my hand, slurping and sloshing around the pretend dick in my mouth. As I feel myself getting close, I look in the mirror to enjoy the view of my throbbing pussy being worked into fervor. My imaginary stranger tells my other spectral assailant to shoot his load on my face. “Give that dirty little whore a good cum-bath,” he groans. I groan along with him, as my body tenses. I lift up, arching my back and legs, nearly lifting off the ground as I feel my orgasm build and peak. My climax came to a crest and culminated with a hard spike. My blood pressure must have shot into the stratosphere as I could only see silvery gray sparkles and my body fell in a heap onto the floor. After a few moments when I was able to move again, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked whorish with the pretense of innocent. I looked like a stripper, not a regular person going to the movies. I couldn’t go out like this and pretend I didn’t notice what I was wearing. I started to think about really being alone in the ally behind the cinema. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. For the first time I began to have doubts about this plan. Fear could be a turn-on, but not this cold fear that gripped me now. Uncertainty overtook me. I didn’t think I could go through with it. I undressed and put the clothes back in the box. I took down my hair and brushed it out. I looked at my naked body in the mirror, trying to face my true self, and know my true desire. What did I really want? And then I knew but could I bring myself to demand it? I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I didn’t feel sexy, I felt confused, hesitant and even fuzzy. I needed to clear my head. I decided to go for a walk. I put on my tennis shoes and started in the direction of Scott’s worksite. It was several miles up the road and I figured that by the time I reached it I would also have reached my decision, and gathered the courage to voice my true will. The air was warm and humid, it made thinking difficult. I quickly built up a sweat and brushed it away with my forearm. More beads of perspiration almost instantly built up in the place of those I had cleared. I began to wish that I had thought to bring a water bottle. My mouth felt parched, and my brain seemed just as barren and dry. What would I do, what did I want, why couldn’t the day be crisp and cool like I wanted to be? I arrived at the site practically swimming in sweat, my mind feeling drowned. Yet the moment I saw my husband I knew the answer. It just happened that he was standing and talking to Barry at that moment. I walked right up to them and spoke before I could loose my nerve. “I can’t do it.” Just My Imagination At the time of this posting (late November 2011) I’m looking for a new submissive female to train online. If you think you might enjoy serving me have a look at my bio here: http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=533505&page=bio And get in touch if you think we might be compatible. My other stories (including audio versions for some) are here: http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=533505&page=submissions They were in his car, heading for a remote cabin in the Catskill Mountains. Michael was kidnapping Karen. Although he didn’t know it. And Karen certainly wasn’t about to tell him. Because he wasn’t, really. And besides, it was her idea. ---------- It all started with a silly attempt at humor on Michael’s part: One Friday on a summer evening Karen drove to Michael’s apartment building after work, as she often did. As she crossed the street and hurried up the stairs to the door she failed to notice Michael arriving on foot from another direction…until he jabbed a finger between her shoulder blades and growled, “Stick ‘em up.” They had always been something of an odd couple, in many ways. Michael was dark, well over six feet tall and solidly built, tending just a little towards heaviness. Karen was a freckled redhead and just five and a half feet tall, with a dancer’s slim build--still perhaps thinner than she ought to be after a long battle with anorexia in her teens. Michael was a corporate lawyer, slaving away towards what he hoped would be a junior partnership in the not too distant future. Karen was an assistant curator at the Museum of Modern Art. They both put in huge amounts of overtime and their relationship occasionally suffered because of it. Still, they had been together—or as together as they could be—for the better part of two years. They were both horrendously busy and had next to nothing in common…and yet somehow a bond of genuine affection had grown between them. Karen loved him and was sure he loved her, although he didn’t express it in words very often. But he was romantic enough, in his way, sending flowers to her at work, sometimes for no reason at all, or having a candlelit dinner waiting in her apartment when she got home. He was a tender and thoughtful lover as well, always as much concerned for her pleasure as his own. The problem, as far as Karen was concerned, was that he was maybe a little too tender and thoughtful. It was just one more aspect of their ‘opposites attract’ dynamic, she supposed. WASP republican lawyer meets Jewish liberal arts-administrator. There was a stolid, almost puritanical streak in him that she sometimes found endearing; his dependability and near-obsessive organizing abilities gave a stability to her own somewhat chaotic nature. But he was the same way in bed; it had come to the point where she knew pretty much what he was going to do before he did it. What he did, he did very well, but Karen craved more than tenderness: she wanted passion, imagination …and maybe a hint of danger. She sometimes thought she’d settle for having him talk dirty to her once in a while. Or talk with her about sex at all. But that was not something he did. She’d tried making subtle suggestions; she’d even tried initiating a few things. But his reaction had always been about the same: puzzled incomprehension…followed by mild shock if she was too obvious. It had been a literally uphill climb just to get him to allow her on top occasionally; she’d had to complain of being unable to breathe underneath his bulk. Karen knew that something had to be done. She didn’t want the relationship to end but her frustration was really beginning to get to her. An affair was out of the question: she loved Michael too much…and besides, when would she have the time? She had resigned herself to spending more quality time with her vibrator…until the night Michael put his finger in her back and said, “Stick ‘em up.” Karen turned and smiled and put gave him a hug and a kiss. But in the instant before she did, an image filled her mind: the man behind her wasn’t Michael at all, but a sinister stranger. His features were conveniently vague…but his gun was real. Accompanying the image was an unarticulated thought: He has a gun…I have to do whatever he wants. And as she turned towards Michael she felt goosebumps—and her nipples—begin to rise. After they finished greeting each other Karen led the way into the building, deliberately keeping Michael slightly behind her as the fantasy took hold. Oh Lord, he’s forcing me into this abandoned factory… She pushed the button for the elevator. …And now onto this grungy old freight elevator… The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. No use screaming for help…I’m at his mercy. Her breath was beginning to quicken. She stood next to Michael as he pushed the button for his floor then placed an arm around her shoulders and held her lightly. He didn’t speak--which was a good thing since Karen was already having a very intense conversation. ********** He kept the gun pointed at her as the creaking elevator began to rise. “All right, let’s see what you’ve got, Red.” He pointed the gun barrel at her skirt and jerked it in a lifting motion. The leer in his voice was unmistakable but Karen pretended not to understand. She held her purse out to him, trying to keep her voice steady as she spoke. “Take what you want. Take it all, just let me go.” He grabbed the purse from her with his free hand and tossed it carelessly into the corner of the elevator. ********** With a sideways glance at Michael, Karen stealthily allowed her purse to slip to the floor next to her foot. ********** He took a step toward her, his gaze purposeful. “Oh, I plan to take it all, Red…a little at a time. Now turn around and show me that cute little booty of yours.” He gave her an evil smile. “Or should I just help myself?” He reached his hand out towards her… Karen jumped back, her hands clenched in front of her. “No…please…!” She drew a quavering breath. “All right, all right--I’ll do it.” She turned… ********** Karen glanced at Michael once more. He had taken out his Blackberry and was completely focused on it. Quickly, Karen eased her hands behind her and, using just the tips of her fingers, gathered up the back of her skirt and tucked it into her waistband. Then, still watching Michael out of the corner of her eye, she leaned forward ever so slightly, hooked her thumbs in the elastic at the sides of her panties and pulled them down, just past her hipbones. ********** She glared over her shoulder at her captor. “All right, you’ve seen it. Now stop this elevator and let me…” She cried out as he slapped her bare behind, hard. She whirled around to face him… …only to find herself staring straight down the barrel of his gun. “You seem to forget who’s in charge here.” His voice was casual but his gaze was hard. “But you’re going to learn. Right now” With his free hand he brought the elevator to a screeching halt. While she was still off-balance he grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her to her knees…then seized the back of her head and began rubbing her face against the front of his filthy jeans. She struggled and gasped for breath, but she was no match for his strength. Finally he grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back so that she was looking up into his face. “Take it out. Now,” he rasped. Oh, God! He was going to make her— ********** The elevator stopped and the door began to slide open. Karen barely had time to yank the back of her skirt out of her waistband and allow it to fall back into place while leaning down to pick up her purse. Michael, apparently still preoccupied, noticed nothing. Nor did he notice that as they made their way down the hall to his apartment Karen walked with a somewhat bowlegged stride in an attempt to keep her panties, still bunched at the tops of her thighs, from falling down. But he certainly noticed when, the moment the apartment door was closed behind them, Karen pushed him back against it, kissed him passionately for several moments, then fell to her knees and began tearing at his belt buckle. Karen knew Michael would be shocked by her behavior. He was a firm believer in doing certain things at certain times in certain places--and oral sex against the apartment door the moment they’d arrived fell into none of those categories. Still, he certainly didn’t try to stop her…and after a few minutes he bent down, picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, apparently not even noticing as her panties slid down her legs and off the ends of her toes when he lifted her. This was possibly because his own pants and underwear were around his knees, making the journey to the bedroom something of a challenge. It even seemed to Karen that his lovemaking was a little bit cruder and more forceful, though it may have been the influence of the sinister stranger in her imagination, who was having his way with her at the same time. In either case she was thrilled, both physically and emotionally. That was the night that Karen discovered it was possible to lead a double life all by herself. The stranger took up permanent residence in her imagination from that point on. ********** He strode into her office unannounced late one afternoon and without preamble told her that he was horny…then demanded that she accompany him to the nearest restroom. Karen stared at him coldly. “How dare you,” she hissed. “Do you think I enjoyed being kidnapped and used like your personal sex-toy?” His mouth curled upward in a sardonic grin. “Do you think I care?’ “You…bastard!” Karen jumped out of her seat and leaned over her desk, shaking with anger. “The only reason I’m not calling the police right now is that I have no proof.” He remained where he was. But his grin widened. “Proof? You mean…like this?” He leaned forward and threw a handful of photographs onto her desk. Karen glanced down at them…and gasped. There she was, with her skirt up and her panties down, looking back over her shoulder at the camera. There she was, on her knees, with her hands and mouth full. There she was…and there…and there… There was no evidence of a gun in any of the photos, and every indication that she was performing voluntarily…even enthusiastically. She looked back up at him, her face white. Her mouth opened, and at first nothing came out. “Wh—wh… H-how…?” He was grinning openly now. “What you’re trying to say is that I’m smarter than I look, right?” He scooped the photos off the desk and dropped them to the floor. Then, moving so quickly that Karen had no time to react he grabbed her wrists and yanked downward, pinning her hands to the desk and bringing her face with inches of his. He was no longer smiling. “I was smart enough to take those pictures, and I was smart enough to hack your computer so I’ll know where to send them. Who do you think should get the first set? Michael? Your boss?” His gaze was burning into her. Karen thought frantically…and came up empty. She was beaten and they both knew it. She met his eyes defiantly as long as she could…then dropped them. “I… No. Please don’t,” she mumbled. “Look at me!” She slowly raised her head and met his eyes again. His stare intensified. “We understand each other now, right?” Karen nodded. He searched her eyes for a long moment then slowly nodded back. “All right. Now…get up on your desk.” Karen’s eyes went wide with shock. “Wh-what? B-but I thought we were…” Before she could complete her sentence he snatched her arms out from under her and began dragging her across her desk. “I said, get up…on…your…desk!” ********** Karen was fairly sure her boss was gone for the day. Nevertheless she roused herself long enough to go down the hall and try her door before hastening back and locking her own behind her. In reality, she closed the blinds and moved papers aside before clambering carefully up onto her desk and standing upright. But in her imagination… ********** …Papers went flying everywhere as he yanked her almost entirely off the desk, letting go of her arms just before she tumbled onto the floor. She scrambled up onto all fours, started to say something nasty to him…then caught the look on his face and simply struggled to her feet. She was trembling as she stood up, wobbling a little on her high-heeled sandals. She nervously brushed her hair out of her face as she tried to get used to her new circumstances. She had never liked heights at the best of times…and this certainly wasn’t one of them. She felt a little dizzy, and very exposed, standing up there in the light summer dress she was wearing. He was now standing with his arms crossed, looking up at her. “Maybe now you’ll remember to do what I tell you…when I tell you.” Barely able to breathe, Karen nodded. Her arms felt awkward and heavy at her sides. He went on. “For your information, I was planning to take you to a restroom—or some other less…public… place, as a concession to your ladylike sensibilities. But I changed my mind.” He stepped closer to the desk, and Karen had to resist the impulse to step back, knowing it would anger him. Not to mention the fact that she had nowhere to go without falling off the desk. She watched his gaze move slowly downward from her face…and she shivered. He was looking at her dress. It was one of Karen’s favorites, a lovely dark-green summer frock that seemed to float around her and somehow show off her slim figure at the same time. But at the moment she wished she were wearing tweeds…or a suit of armor. “Yes,” he said musingly, looking back up at her. “Simple, yet elegant. It quite suits you. But it’s such a warm day, after all—I don’t think you need it.” His gaze suddenly sharpened. “Take it off.” Karen knew she didn’t dare to even seem to hesitate. She made her mind a blank to everything except following his directions and reached behind her neck to unfasten the clasp. She quickly unzipped the dress, shrugged if off her shoulders and stepped carefully out of it. For one brief second a heel caught in the hem and she teetered on one foot, terrified that she would fall, but then she caught herself and stood upright again. The dress hung limply from her hand. He reached out and took it from her, saying, “Very good. If you continue to behave well you might even get it back.” He tossed it onto a chair. He stood back and looked her over. Karen felt horribly vulnerable, standing on top of her desk in nothing but her shoes and underwear…and yet, absurdly, she was also glad that she had worn nice lingerie: a lacy bra and panty set with flutter trim, all in shades of light and dark green which complemented her red hair and pale, freckled skin. She willed herself to stillness, moving only her eyes as he walked slowly around her desk…once…twice… Taking his time--enjoying her discomfort no doubt, she thought. Then in the back of her mind a terrible realization began to dawn: there was something about this situation, about being made to strip and display herself like this, like a slave about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, that she found… No! No! It wasn’t true! “Well, I’ll be damned.” He was standing directly in front of her, looking up with an expression of amused disbelief on his face. “You’re enjoying this.” It was a statement, not a question. Karen suppressed a gasp. How had he…? She began shaking her head in denial, but this time gasped out loud when he casually reached up and jerked her brassiere downwards, causing her breasts to pop out. Instinctively she tried to cover them with her hands, but he seized her wrists and held them at her sides. “Look,” he commanded her. She looked down…and saw her traitorous nipples standing firmly erect. Oh God, she wanted to die of shame. “Your nipples are hard…aren’t they,” he demanded. “Yes,” she whispered, not daring to look up. “Look at me,” he demanded, and when she met his gaze continued, “Yes…what?” Her lips began to tremble. “My…m-my…” Tears of humiliation began running down her cheeks. “…ni-nipples…are hard.” He nodded, continuing to hold her in his gaze. “That’s right.” Suddenly he took her hand and shoved it into the crotch of her panties. “And…? Oh God, the fabric was damp against her fingers--no, it was soaked. She looked down and could see the darkened area there. She quickly glanced back up at him, the tears coming even faster. “My p-p-panties are w-wet,” she managed to stammer. “Right again,” he said. Still holding onto her wrist he began sliding her hand in and out between her legs, watching her keenly as he did. “So I guess that means you do like what I’m doing to you--doesn’t it?” Ohhhhh…He was making her stroke herself, right in front of him! God, she hated him. Hated him for blackmailing her into this; hated him for humiliating her; hated him most of all for knowing that every single moment of it was arousing her to the point of madness. “Yeeeeessssss,” she moaned. “I l-like what…mmmm…you’re…ohhh…doing to me.” He released his hold on her wrist then, and stepped back. Karen, knowing what he wanted—what she wanted—held his gaze…and continued to stroke herself through her panties. Oh, what was the matter with her? Why was she behaving this way? Again he seemed to read her mind and answer her unspoken question: “You’re a naughty little girl…aren’t you?” God, how did he know? How was he doing this to her, making her so unbearably aroused? “Yes! Yes, I am,” she cried, her voice hoarse. She suddenly thrust her hand deep into her panties and continued to stroke herself, still holding his gaze. “I’m a n-naughty…Uhh!...little girl!” Oh Christ, she was going to come any second! Oh! Ohhh… Suddenly her wrists were once again caught in his iron grip and she was held utterly still. “Not just yet,” he growled. He pulled her downward until her face was close to his, and then said, in a near whisper, “Do you know what happens to naughty little girls?” Karen wanted to scream with frustration. Oh God, she’d been so close! Still, she knew better than to keep him waiting. She tried, unsuccessfully, to catch her breath before shaking her head slowly and whispering back, her eyes wide with fear…and anticipation, a simple, “No.” He made no further reply, just held her in his gaze as he again pulled her by the wrists: down, down…until her hands were almost touching the desk. Then he wrapped them firmly around her ankles…and let go. He began to walk behind the desk. Karen widened her stance ever so slightly so she could see between her legs and watched as he jerked open her desk drawer and rummaged around in it for a moment before coming up with the large metal ruler she kept there. It only took Karen an instant to grasp his intention and she gasped aloud. But she kept her hands tightly around her ankles. Just My Imagination He made her wait. He teased her with light little taps on her behind and the backs of her thighs. He used the corner to stroke between her legs. Finally, he let her watch as he raised his arm, slowly… Oh God, why didn’t he do it? She knew she would start begging him any second. Her legs were shaking; her breasts, still hanging out of her bra, felt as if they might explode; the blood had all rushed to her head and her ears were ringing… Ringing…over and over… ********** Her cell-phone! Christ, what time was it! Karen dropped the ruler she’d been holding, straightened up--somewhat painfully--and scrambled off the desk, simultaneously grabbing for her purse and trying to tuck her breasts back into her brassiere. She managed to dig out her cell-phone fairly quickly…but then had to wait while she forced her breath to calm before she answered. She knew it was Michael without even looking at the display, since a glance at her watch had told her she was already twenty minutes late for their dinner date. It was extremely difficult for Karen to answer and apologize for a made-up meeting that ran late and promise that she was on her way…when what she really wanted to say was, “Michael, I’m standing in my office in my underwear and my panties are soaking wet and I want you to come up here this instant and spank my ass with this ruler.” But she wasn’t that crazy. Not yet, anyway. Karen had never been spanked in her life, and had no idea how the idea had suddenly taken over her fantasy. But suddenly she wanted it more than anything. She was restless all through dinner and had to keep herself from fidgeting, even though Michael had remembered—which she hadn’t--that it was the anniversary of their first date, and had brought her a dozen roses and a lovely bracelet. He was such a sweetheart. And she loved him, she really did. So she did her best to smile adoringly at him while he prattled on about their upcoming weekend at his family’s cabin in the mountains, even while she was counting the minutes until they could go back to his place. When they finally got there she pretended to be slightly drunk and made him sit on the bed and watch while she stood on a chair and stripped for him--after which she turned around, bent over and grabbed her ankles, hoping against hope. But no. He was sufficiently turned on by her display to stand and run his hands all over her behind, and stroke her a little, but all too soon he simply pulled her backwards onto the bed with him. It was sweet and romantic…and she had been so aroused all evening that she even managed to have an orgasm. But it was so unsatisfying. And she didn’t dare ask him for what she really wanted. ----------- …Which was why she was attempting, pathetically, to turn their weekend hiking trip into an imaginary kidnapping. It was Friday. They had left as soon after work as possible but it was already dark and negotiating the winding mountain road they were on would take another hour or so. She had been to the cabin before and it was a very basic hewn-log affair without indoor plumbing or electricity—perfect for a kidnapper’s hideout. She thought about all the things she’d imagined that the stranger had promised he would do to her, and make her do, once he had her all to himself in the cabin. Things she knew would never, ever happen. And without meaning to, she let out a long sigh. Suddenly Michael pulled over to the side of the road and switched off the engine. Then in the darkness and sudden silence he grabbed her chin and turned her face towards him. “We have to talk. You’ve been acting strangely all week. …Karen, are you seeing somebody else?” Shocked by this sudden turn of events she began to babble—first a complete denial, then a partial explanation and finally, in tears, a complete confession of the fantasy life she had been living. His reaction was even worse than she had expected. When she was finally done and was still sobbing quietly to herself, he sat there, turned slightly away from her and said nothing for a long time. Then he turned back, reached across her and opened the car door. “Get out.” What? He was just going to leave her by the side of the road? She was only wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and a light jacket—this high in the mountains she’d freeze to death! He didn’t seem to care. He gave her a shove that almost made her fall out of the car and repeated, “Go on, get out.” Bursting into fresh tears she hauled herself out and let the door swing closed behind her. She waited, sobbing, for him to start up the engine and drive away. But instead the next sound she heard was the sound of Michael’s car door opening and closing, then the sound of his heavy footsteps on the gravel road as he came around the front of the car. Then suddenly she was being forced, face down, onto the hood of the car by a hand at the back of her shoulders. Her jeans and then her panties were jerked down around her knees. Christ, it really was cold up here, she realized… …And that was her last coherent thought for some time, as Michael began shouting at her, and emphasizing every word with a barehanded slap on her naked behind. “FROM!...NOW!...ON!...YOU!…DON’T!..EVEN!...THINK!...ABOUT!...ANYONE!... ELSE!...BUT!…ME!!! IS!...THAT!...CLEAR!? And then, even though she’d whole-heartedly agreed several times already, he gave her ten more. He made her strip completely naked, then took her clothes away and locked them in the trunk. She had to ride the entire rest of the way to the cabin kneeling naked in her seat and facing the rear of the car, so that whenever Michael felt himself getting mad again he could reach out and give her another smack on the behind without taking his eyes off the road. Being Michael, however, he had considerately turned up the heat in the car so she wouldn’t be cold. Karen was very happy. She was well and truly loved…just the way she wanted to be. …And she was really looking forward to the weekend. Just My Imagination Was it just my imagination when I would see my wife chatting with the landscaper that she would rub his bicep and laugh in a way that was more than customer and client? Was it my imagination that my wife upon my arrival at home if she was on the phone would chuckle in that high lilting voice that was a different tone than she spoke with her girlfriends? Was it my imagination that my wife wore practically nothing while she sunbathed by the pool always when the pool guy was there? Was it my imagination that all the service guys were all studs and all seemed to come to our house on Saturday when I was always working? I'm not sure if it was my imagination or not, but it seemed to me that there were an awful lot of coincidences around our house and it could be my imagination. I would never ask my wife outright though. Since I had lost my lucrative job, we were forced to live on my wife's salary albeit six figures, and we wanted for nothing she insisted I take a menial job to 'help with expenses' as she put it until I was able to get a 'real job.' The job I now had was working 6 am to 2pm every day but Sunday at a Dunkin' Donuts near our house. Saturday's I also had another part time job from 2 pm to 6 pm meaning on Saturday's I worked 12 hours straight making me exhausted on Sunday. My forty year old wife Mae is twelve years younger than I am, with her long lustrous red hair with 38F breasts, a 36 inch waist and 50 inch hips is luscious at 5'7" and 190lbs and sports a size 14 dress. She works for a high profile medical company in their corporate office and loves to wear clothes that flaunt her figure. We married after I basically had to beg her as our first couple of dates didn't go to well once we hit the bedroom. Standing a scant 5'4" a bit on the chubby side with a cock that only grows to four inches when rock hard; I am not the most physically imposing guy. Mae agreed to go out with me after I had met her at a convention. Long story short I had some serious premature ejaculation issues on our first two dates first when Mae removed her top in the bedroom, and secondly when she showed up for dinner at the restaurant with no bra and I had a little accident in my pants. I ended up on both occasions satisfying her with my tongue and she agreed to a third date. It was clear that I was enamored and in love with her and she treated me as a whimsical dalliance but I persisted. I drained my savings, bought her a huge diamond and proposed promising my body, mind, and soul if she would accept. I slipped the ring on her finger and pleaded with her to marry me. She accepted and within a month the company Mae worked for bought out my company and I was out of a job. My self esteem plummeted and it showed up in the bedroom and Mae became more and more aggressive, insisting that I pleasure her with my tongue each night before bed. Soon I was licking her pussy and ass faithfully every night professing my love for her. Mae would toy with my cock for a few seconds and I would spurt on her hand and she would make me lick it up. That's when I began wondering if my imagination was running wild on me or if the things I was seeing and feeling were real. We had more handymen around our house of late than I had ever seen, but Mae was paying for them so I couldn't very well object. Painters, landscapers, plumbers, pool guys, all showed up on different Saturday's while I slaved away twelve hours a day. Sometimes I would come home at 6pm exhausted to find my gorgeous wife laughing, joking, groping and fondling the hired help. When they would motion to me she would simply wave me off and whisper something in their ear and they would both laugh hysterically. One night she wandered into the bedroom wearing high heel boots and black thigh highs and stood in front of a full length mirror we had showing me her ass and said, "Do these boots make my ass look big?" and laughed. Before I could answer she threw on a tight tube top with no bra and a short denim skirt, grabbed her purse and said she was heading out for a night with the girls and for me not to wait up as she knew I was exhausted after my long day and she would more than likely be out late. I lay there with pictures of her running through my mind wondering where she was and who she was with. After not being able to sleep I dialed her phone at 10pm and was greeted with a slightly out of breath Mae saying hello. I asked her if everything was alright and she said yes she was just out of breath from walking up the stairs to a club her and the girls were at. She then told me that she was going to lose signal going into the club and she'd be home late and not to wait up and the line went dead. Touching myself while I held a pair of Mae's panties in my hand smelling her scent and tasting the crotch I shot my load and went back to bed hoping to find sleep. I drifted off around midnight and was awoken at 3am with the garage door opening and Mae's car driving in. She came into the bedroom, dropped her purse on the floor and saw that I was awake and said she had had a great night but was very horny and wanted me to lick her pussy. Dutifully I knelt by the side of the bed while Mae lay back naked and spread her lips. She was soaking wet and her pussy tasted salty. Was it my imagination or was there some guys cum in my wife's pussy? It didn't matter, all that mattered was Mae's happiness so I sucked it up and licked her pussy and ass cleaning the cum out and telling her how much I loved her. After her third orgasm she drifted off to sleep and I was left staring at her naked gorgeous body. The next morning Sunday was our only day together and Mae slept in late. I prepared a lavish breakfast in bed for her and served it to making sure I licked her to another orgasm to start the day. I was doing the dishes while Mae showered and I had just put the last dish away when she came into the kitchen wearing high heels, tight fitting jeans, and a black leotard with no bra, her purse over her shoulder. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said that her boss had called and she had to go into work for a couple of hours. I was downhearted and felt beaten. I dared not question her, and instead worked at finishing my chores. I always hated her boss Josh as he was tall, good looking, arrogant and was instrumental in the buy out that cost me my job. Mae on the other hand made no bones about telling me what a hunk she thought he was. Mae called me late in the afternoon telling me that Josh had invited her to go out on his boat with him and some of his buddies for a little rest and relaxation after their long day. She told me not to wait dinner for her and she'd send me a picture from the boat. Sure enough several hours later I started receiving photos on my cell phone from Mae. The first one was of her and Josh arms around each other at the dock. The next couple of shots were of Mae and three of Josh's college buddies all on deck with their shirts off, six pack abs glistening in the sun. The next picture startled me and caused me to get hard and jealous at the same time. It was a naked photo of Mae spread out on the deck sunbathing! One was of her spread eagle on her back and the other spread eagle on her front, the captions read: 'ooops! Forgot my bathing suit! Hope you don't mind!' What could I do? This wasn't my imagination. This was my wife being naked in front of her boss and three of his college buddies. I paced the floor, but what did it really mean? So she was naked, it didn't mean she was having sex did it? I looked at the pictures on my phone, took my cock out and jerked off furiously. I received a text from Mae telling me that Josh had dropped his three buddies off at the dock and the two of them were going to stay on board and have dinner. I texted her back and told her I didn't think it was appropriate that she was naked in front of Josh and his friends. This incensed her and she shot me back a stern text telling me that I wasn't her father and I had no say in who she showed her body to or for that matter, what she did with it. She told me she'd show me inappropriate! And then nothing, an hour went by, and then two. I was going crazy until finally my phone lit up saying I had a video message. I clicked on the message and was greeted with a video feed from Mae's phone. Her beautiful face came into focus as it was obvious someone was holding the phone on her face. "Hey there baby I thought I'd show you what inappropriate is!" and with that the camera panned out and Mae was holding a huge wet cock in her hand. She put her mouth on it and took the whole thing which must have been eight inches all the way down her throat. She pulled it out and stroked it a few times and looking straight into the camera said, "Josh's cock tastes so good and is so big! A LOT bigger than your little thing which I'm sure is dripping pre cum all over now!" She went back to sucking his cock and I watched as she gave him a thirty minute blow job; something I could never imagine lasting through. As his cock grew hard I knew he was going to cum and sure enough he came and she swallowed every drop. She licked the head of his cock running her tongue around the glistening tip and looked straight into the camera and said, "MMMM does that taste good! If you're a good boy maybe I'll bring some home for you to taste!" They both laughed and the video feed went dead. I couldn't believe it! My imagination then began to run wild picturing what they were doing together while I was home with my tiny cock dripping just like Mae said. She knew me that was for sure! The rest of the evening I went about making the house look spectacular for Mae, I had candles lit, wine poured, lights dim, all in the hopes that she would forgive me for questioning her. At ten pm she rolled in the door and held up her hand alerting me to not say a word. She crooked her finger for me to follow her to the bedroom which I did obediently. While she stripped her clothes off she handed me her phone which had several pictures of her and Josh naked that had been taken with the phone's auto timer. One was of the two of them naked on opposite ends of the couch with Mae's feet playing with Josh's cock. The next was of one of her sitting on his cock while he sucked on her nipple her head thrown back in ecstasy. And the last was of the two of them facing forward with Josh behind her and her sitting on the edge of the bed legs spread one of his hands on her tit and one buried between her legs with her arm wrapped around his neck pulling him towards her as he kissed her neck. She flopped on the bed as I sat the phone down on the nightstand. Spreading her legs and then her lips she said, "Come taste your inappropriate wife's pussy and taste how good Josh's cum is!" I fell to my knees and lapped furiously at her pussy and her ass licking like a wild man not wanting to anger my beautiful wife any more. I licked her through two pussy orgasms and one anal orgasm. As my beautiful rubenesque wife drifted off to sleep I wondered was it my imagination or had I tasted that cum before? Just My Imagination Both of there heads swiveled so fast; I thought they would spin all the way around. “What!” they said in unison. “Well, I can do it,” I corrected myself, “ just not outside. We can do it at my house or your house or we can just forget all about it, it’s up to you. But I just don’t feel comfortable doing this outside. Let me know what you decide.” I turned to walk away, before they had a chance to speak. One of the men, Kevin was standing away from the large group of workers, so I walked up to him. “Would you please tell Scott that I’m going to be across the street at the Chinese takeout place?” He nodded and headed in Scott’s direction. There must have been an urgency to my voice, because he didn’t hesitate or ask questions, he simply went. I crossed the street and went into the little shop. A little oriental woman with upswept gray hair stood behind the counter. “Please give me the chicken lo-mein and a large Coke, for here please.” I told her. She nodded and rang up my order, took my money and disappeared into the back. She returned in seconds with a Styrofoam plate heaped with steaming hot noodles, I had barely sat down when my husband entered the restaurant. He sat next to me and put his arm lovingly around me. “Barry said he wasn’t going to do it unless it was behind the theater.” I looked down at my food, a hard lump forming in my throat. “So I told him to forget about it.” I felt- I don’t know how I felt- relieved that my husband had backed me up, disappointed that my fantasy wasn’t going to come about, incensed that Barry had so little respect for my wishes when I was about to give him everything he could have hoped for. I felt like spitting, the asshole must have been on a power trip. Well, fuck him anyway. But my husband must have been happy, now he wouldn’t have to go through with this plan of mine, and he was one step closer to the threesome of his dreams. Scott brushed my long hair out of the way and kissed my neck. “I know how much you’ve been looking forward to fulfilling this fantasy. We can try to get somebody else whose willing to do it our way, how would that be?” “Really?” I said my heart lifting. I looked up searchingly into his face. “Really, babe. What do you think about Kevin?” “I think,” I said, reaching between my lover’s legs and caressing him aggressively, “that you have never been hotter than you are right now.” I felt Scott growing beneath my hand. He returned my gaze with a tender look, and pushed my hair away from my forehead and kissed me there gently. “Meet me in the men’s room, twenty seconds.” The end. Author's note: I hope you liked the story, be sure to vote and send feedback. Stay tuned to find out what happens between Scott, Denise and Kevin. (I bet you've got a pretty good idea, you filthy filthy thing!)