by Al Daltrey
The party was fun. Good food and decent wine. I didn’t drink very much knowing one of us had to drive home. I’m lucky that most of the time Chloe acts as our designated driver. This time, since it was her friend hosting the party, I offered to abstain so she could party and let loose with the girls. Sure enough, they did a few shots of freezer-chilled vodka, and batches of blender drinks, and soon there was dancing and laughing. It was great to see her having a blast.
Finally, late into the night, we said our goodbyes and headed home. In the car while driving, I looked across at the pretty woman sitting in the passenger seat. She smiled back at me, quite tipsy but not drunk per se. Chloe always held it together. She caught a nice buzz when she partied, but was never trashed or obnoxiously out of control.
There were very few cars on the road. We came to stop at a red light, and there were no other vehicles at the intersection, or within sight. I drove through the red light. Chloe swatted my thigh and scolded me while shaking her head. I was just being a ham, knowing I’d get a rise out of her. I wasn’t going to make a habit of this dumb move, but tonight I was in playful mood, and did it simply to taunt her. We both laughed, and she told me to behave.
At the next stop light, I decided to do something different. My tone of voice changed. I spoke to her in my ‘Dom’ voice: “Take your panties off, put your seat all the way back, and place your feet up on the front dash.”
From my tone of voice, she knew I wasn’t kidding. When I used my Dom tone, it wasn’t a joke. It was a direct command from her Master, and Chloe knew to obey. She did as told, using the control switch to slide her seat as far back as it would go, removed her thong and lifted her legs up as directed. First, I reached across and clamped my hand between her legs, as if showing her the hot spot. Then I took my hand away and gave clear explicit directions.
“Spread your legs and touch your pussy with your right hand, tell me how it feels.”
She touched herself, and reported back, “I’m a little wet Sir, and it is soft, warm and slightly swollen.”
“Slide two fingers into yourself, and run them along the slit. Meanwhile, with your left hand – put two fingers inside your mouth and suck on the fingertips.
She obeyed as the light turned green and we continued along. As I drove, she masturbated with her right hand, nibbling quietly on the fingers of her other hand with her mouth.
“Every time we come to a full stop at an intersection, you are to switch hands, is that understood?”
Chloe nodded. Soon enough, we hit another red light. She lifted her right hand, visibly wet with her pussy juices up to her mouth, and she resumed finger-fucking herself, this time with her left hand. Meanwhile, my cock was ready to explode out of my jeans. It was so sexy to see her switching hands every time we hit a red. I chuckled to myself that, for the first time in my life, I was getting annoyed if I hit three or four green lights in a row.
She kept going back and forth, never breaking her routine, not even when other cars pulled up alongside us. The only one that openly noticed was a Ford F-150 where two men signaled their appreciation and enthusiasm with a triple beep, beep, beep. Chloe blushed so deeply her face matched the red of the light before us.
Further along, as we approached the core of the city, traffic increased so I decided to put an end to our game. I didn’t want to risk someone taking a photo with their cell phone.
“Cum,” I instructed, “use both hands.”
In less than a minute, my passenger was moaning and groaning, and squirming. She gave herself a thundering orgasm right there, her long legs and high heels still up on the dash. She cleaned up the mess on her fingers like a good submissive.
As I pulled into our parking spot in the underground garage, I adjusted my own seat by setting it as far back as possible. Chloe smiled and looked at me. She was awaiting further direction, as any good submissive would. I guided her with one hand, by the back of her head, and she complied by bending over the gear shift toward my newly freed cock. Since we had christened every room in our new condo, we may as well christen our parking spot too.
She sucked my cock right there in the underground garage. It was the middle of the night, so no one was around. I was so turned on by her masturbation on the way home that I came in no time at all.
We held hands as we took the parking garage elevator up to the lobby. To our surprise, the building caretaker was cleaning grout from the porcelain tiles that had only recently been laid. As if sensing our puzzlement, he answered our unasked question: “I work at night, when the lobby is empty.”
The caretaker’s name turned out to be Mike. He was a modest hardworking man in his early 30s, who had moved to San Francisco from Wyoming, where work was scarce. He had helped us with our move-in, securing the freight elevator, as well as other furniture deliveries that arrived after we settled in. One of those salt-of-the-earth guys who called all the women ‘Ma’am’.
We politely complimented his work, telling him the floor was looking great, and after retrieving our mail, made our way across the lobby to the main elevators. Once inside, Chloe curled into me for a cuddle and I held her tightly.
“Ready for your first assignment, Chloe,” I said. I felt her shudder within my arms.
“I’m ready Sir,” she replied, almost standing at attention.
We had talked about this before our marriage. We had talked about Chloe’s limits as my sub, and I wanted to ensure we were both on the same page, and that I was not ignoring or overseeing any of Chloe’s hard limits. We talked about ‘sharing’ in great depth, over multiple conversations. The only way it can possibly work when a Dom shares his sub is if there is a deep foundation of trust and mutual respect. The trust forms a bedrock.
Chloe had been shared with other men on two previous occasions. Once, by an ex-boyfriend she dated before meeting me. He asked her to suck the cocks of a few of his buddies. She agreed, and sucked four cocks in one evening, that of her ex and three of his friends. Then, on our first vacation as boyfriend/girlfriend, I shared Chloe myself. We met another couple at a resort on Paradise Island, and after a great dinner together at the Ocean Club, I let that couple fuck her all night long.
“Are you certain, Chloe?” I verified, “Otherwise, we can wait.” I wanted to make it easy for her to back out.
“I’m absolutely certain. I want to do this. I want to do it for you of course, as my Master. But I also want to do it for me. I want to do it for us.”
She convinced me, “Then before the end of the month, I want to fuck you with the cum of Mike the caretaker in your tummy.”
Her eyes opened wide. Not so much from the prospect of having to give a random guy a blowjob, but because of who I selected. I could read her mind. Sucking off the caretaker of our condo was insanely humiliating. He lived in our building! She’d see him all the time.
“Yes Master. I understand.”
We slept in late the next morning, glad that it was Saturday which meant there was still a lot of weekend ahead of us. Most of the day was spent furniture shopping as we still hadn’t furnished the entire condo. We needed a few odds and ends. Chloe has great taste, and led the charge with me adding a second opinion when needed. That evening we watched a movie, especially since we had been out so late the night before.
Strangely, at midnight Chloe put on a sexy skirt, high heels, and fresh lipstick which she very intentionally smeared a little. She disheveled her hair, and with a wink, told me she was going down to our lobby to see if we had any mail.
“Oh I get it,” I chuckled, “you’re going to see if Mike is down there.”
“Yeah,” she answered, “but nothing will happen tonight. I’m just going to set the trap.”
The door closed behind her, and instantly my cock was getting fat and hard. Fuck! Just knowing Chloe was going down there hoping to find him cleaning the grout again turned me on. My wife was putting herself out there, risking her pride, for the sake of her husband and Master. What was she going to say to him? I
had no idea, but it turned me on regardless.
Five or six minutes later she returned. She didn’t say a word. I didn’t ask. I assume by the smile on her face it went well. We made love that night, and it was as great as ever.
Three days after that, when we came home with groceries one evening, we stumbled across Mike in the front lobby. He was discussing a move-in date with some new tenants who were renting one of the units. He looked the part. He actually wore one of those full body uniforms that you see auto mechanics wear. The whole blue collar maintenance man aspect made it even more humbling for Chloe. She worked in a law office and would be sucking the cock of a man who repaired toilets for a living.
The two of them sneaked a mischievous glance at each other. I noticed it. I wanted to smile, but knew I had to keep my cool and pretend to be oblivious. Chloe must have been working him behind my back, which is exactly what she should be doing!
Nine days later it happened. We were having dinner when Chloe nonchalantly mentioned that she needed one hour to complete her assignment.
“Tonight?” I asked.
“If you allow it, yes – I believe it will happen tonight, Master. It is all but arranged.”
I gave her approval to proceed. I did want it to happen. The fact that she was putting herself out there for me, in this manner, made me love her more. This was my domination of her pushed to another level. Sucking my cock was one thing. Sucking the cock of another man, as instructed by me, was more extreme, and a testament to her true submission.
That night I felt like a million dollars when I fucked my wife. We both came twice. I held her in my arms and kissed her temple. She had been a very obedient submissive. All the while I fucked her, I couldn’t help but think that – deep in her tummy – resided a big helping of the caretaker’s cum.
Chloe’s View:
I almost jumped for joy when Sarah emailed me and then phoned me about her party. I was excited for her, of course, but to be honest I was thrilled that Jack and I would be going to our first party as husband and wife. I’m sure it sounds silly, but I couldn’t wait to introduce him to people as my ‘husband’. So much so, I was hoping Sarah and her boyfriend would have lots of their work friends there, people we didn’t know, just so I could introduce him accordingly. In my mind I rehearsed: ‘This is my husband Jack’. ‘Oh yes, the man over there in the blue shirt, that’s my husband Jack’. ‘Excuse me a moment please, it seems my husband Jack needs me.’ I giggled at my silliness.
Jack and I enjoy drinking wine and mixed drinks. I guess you could say that we are social drinkers. We are pretty compatible that way. A good number of our friends still smoke weed, but Jack and I are doing less of that. Recently, Jack has been exploring various bourbons, which are too strong tasting for me. We both have a real appreciation for great wine, and my husband is becoming quite knowledgeable. Of course, I always let him lead the way when it comes to selecting a bottle. Sometimes he’ll pre-select a few bottles and lets me pick from among them. I really don’t have a clue, and he is just being kind, but I find it sweet. By the same token, I am more than happy to have Jack stay out of my kitchen. And I know he is more than happy to do just that.
As our University years fade away, I find we are learning to appreciate the finer things in life, and we make no apologies for being able to afford just that. Jack and I are proud of our accomplishments, so far, and I think we make a good team. We still like to get drunk and go skinny dipping with our close friends when we’re at a lake house, but now, we also make a good martini and a whiskey sour when serving cocktails in our condo.
The week seemed to fly by, and when Friday evening arrived, off we went with a bottle of Barolo, Canadian ice wine and a small flower arrangement for the hostess. I’ve been favoring dresses lately and decided on a short black Michael Kors sleeveless shift dress with a low cut bodice. It seemed to skim my curves nicely, and as an added little turn-on for my husband, I chose a matching bra and thong made of thin grey silk. Silver black trimmed stilettos completed the outfit. I felt great beside my tall husband. Yeah, we did look good together. Jack had printed off Mapquest directions, and not only did he drive there, but we agreed in advance he’d drive home. My college girlfriends would be there, so this was my night to drink, and he would be sober to drive us home.
I smiled all night when people told me how amazing our wedding had been, and how lucky I am to be with someone who treats me as well as Jack does. Every time someone said that, I wanted to giggle. I imagined saying: ‘oh yeah, well last week he twisted my nipples so viciously they are STILL bruised.’ But of course, I kept my mouth shut. The truth was that I loved our sessions as much as Jack did. My masochistic nature is living the dream, as the expression goes.
We danced, we laughed, we told old stories that – even though they’d been told a dozen times – still made all of us laugh. Some of my single girlfriends opened up about being single. They too, wanted to find the love of their lives. The recently broken-hearted complained about what jerks men were. There were also people complaining about society being fucked up, and a total lack of decent jobs. Basically, the usual banter you’d find at the party, with ample drinks to accompany the fanfare. As the evening progressed, I was feeling evermore grateful for the life that I had been blessed with. For sure, I was a lucky girl.
Jack was in the backyard having a cigar with some of the guys. I looked out at him. I always loved his sense of style; he was one of the fortunate men who could wear anything and pull it off. He could look as comfortable in an Armani suit as a T-shirt and baseball cap. He was down-to-earth and yet sophisticated at the same time. He was rugged, but without looking rough around the edges. Very handsome with boyish charm, and how that man turned me on.
To everyone’s collective surprise our friend Holly showed up at midnight. She was accompanied by a weird looking dude. Clearly they were a misfit couple. Holly was beautiful and lovely: it was simply her addiction to drugs that was getting the best of her. We had all tried to intervene early on in her addiction, especially me, but the more forceful I became, the worse the situation became.
During high school, Holly had been my closest friend. Both her parents were heavy alcoholics, and Holly had spent as much time at my family’s home as her own. She was like an adopted family member. In fact one year when we went to Hawaii for family vacation, we brought her along. She had never been out of California. Back then she was sweet, clever and funny. She wrote poetry and loved reading. When I went off to my first year at University, Holly started snorting cocaine. That morphed into crystal meth and an assortment of other prescription drugs. At first, I didn’t believe it when some of my friends started emailing me with warnings that Holly was becoming an addict. Unfortunately, they were right. Then we heard rumors that she was dabbling with heroin.
Tonight at the party, she seemed pretty good. She was somewhat jittery, and looked too thin – but otherwise, okay. Holly never weighed more than 120 lbs, but now she looked pounds less than that. Her hair was nicely done, and her clothes looked new. She did not look as strung-out as the times I had seen her before my wedding. When I got her alone, I asked about the guy she brought to the party.
“Oh, he’s just a friend, he’s good to me,” Holly answered. He’s ‘good to you?’ So in other words, he feeds your addiction in exchange for your body? I didn’t say a word, instead keeping my thoughts to myself. I didn’t want to put her on the defensive, not here. But deep down, I hated this. Never in a million years would Holly be spending time with a guy like this if he wasn’t providing her. No doubt, he was her dealer.
“Ok, but please be careful,” was all I could say in return.
Holly and the creep left early. In my gut I suspected that she had held it together for the party, to show us she was in a good place, but ten minutes after leaving us she’d be cooking up something in a spoon, somewhere.
There was a mass exodus from the party around 1:45 am, and we left shortly thereafter. Why does it seem people always leav
e parties in batches? We got in the car and started the long drive home. It’s a bit eerie driving in the middle of the night. City streets that always seem to be crowded are now strangely empty and desolate. It’s almost surreal. As we usually do after a party, we talked about this person and that person, sharing observations.
Jack was in a playful mood and kidding around, when suddenly, his tone of voice changed. Fuck! I’m such a slut. Just hearing his Dom voice made my pussy moisten and tingle. He wanted my feet up on the dash, seat back, panties removed. I didn’t need to be told twice. I managed to tilt my pelvis up and slide my thong down my thighs and placed them in my purse. Instinctively, one foot was placed on the glove box, with my other foot resting to the right of the digital screen. I knew he would want my legs spread apart. My high heels looked sexy up on the dashboard. Jack brought his right hand over and shoved it between my legs, squeezing his whole hand onto my pussy. With a firm voice he told me I was to masturbate until orgasm, all the while keeping my legs spread, with my pelvis tilted for his viewing pleasure. Legs wide apart, no thong, I felt the car air blowing gently on my open pussy. It felt so good. Next he instructed me to insert my middle finger and report to him on how it felt and if it I was wet.
“I’m a little wet Sir, and it is soft, warm and slightly swollen,” I confessed. Keep driving the car and in another minute or so I’ll be dripping. I didn’t add the additional comment, but it certainly ran through my mind.
I could smell my sweet scent, and I was admittedly embarrassed that Jack might be able to smell me too, all the way over in the driver’s seat. He instructed me to masturbate with one hand, while sucking on the fingertips of my other hand. I knew where he was going with this. He told me each time our car came to a complete stop I was to switch hands. Whenever I changed hands, I was to spread my pussy juice all over my clit area. So I took my right hand and brought some of my moisture up and around my clit, around and around, putting just the right amount of pressure on my needy nub. Jack glanced over as I sucked seductively on my left middle finger, then my index finger. Looking ahead, I could see the light turn yellow. We had to stop for our first red light. Jack came to a full stop and turned his attention to the vagina beside him. I switched hands and tasted myself on my middle finger, licking and sucking the wetness. Sucking wildly, I switched to my other finger for more flavor. I was thirsty, and I’d be feeding myself my own pussy juice all the way home. Jack told me not to cum, not until he granted me permission to do so. Jack was torturing me, and loving it, without even touching my body. I wanted to cum so badly, oh please let me come, touching myself and sucking my own juice. I arched my back and squirmed in my seat. I so needed relief. I feared I would spontaneously come in my seat. Jack turned his attention back to driving, looking in the rear view mirror.