Groaning with pleasure and pulling at my restraints I writhe my hips and ignore her question.
“It was a bit of a squeeze in Dominic’s car with his 2 friends.” Her voice is as soft on my face as her fingers are now down my shaft.
“I ended up having to sit on someone’s knee until we dropped the others off. I can’t even remember his name.”
I hear my own breathing, deep and heavy as Lynne continues to frustrate me by lightly stroking my straining shaft and balls.
“I bet whoever it was enjoyed that.” I study her face, looking for something that might suggest her words are the longed-for truth and not just more elaborate fantasy talk.
“Oh I know he enjoyed it,” she’s pulling at one of my nipples.
“Anyhow, Becky’s husband might be quite old, but he’s got a very dirty mind you know.” Her nails rake up my chest, circling around my nipples, the wine on her breath in my face.
“Why, what did he do?”
She tells me that once he’d dropped his friends off Becky had fallen asleep next to her on the back seat.
“Dominic kept adjusting his driving mirror to look into the back,” she breathes, closer to me now. “He was looking at my legs.” Her hand is wrapped more tightly around my dick now. “He kept telling me how good Becky and I looked together there, how hot we both are.”
Her hand is rhythmic on my shaft now, working the foreskin back and forth over the engorged head.
“He even asked me if I’d ever thought about going with another woman.”
I groan and ask her how she’d replied to him.
“I was honest with him,” she tells me as her arm moves down the front of her own body to her panties.
“I told him that if I ever did, then it would be with someone just like Becky. And he said that was ‘interesting’ because Becky said the same about me when he asked her.’”
While I’m still admiring her creative story-telling, Lynne moves her panties to one side and gets up onto her knees straddling my thighs. Then she slips my erection up and into the warm dampness between her legs. It’s her turn to let out a little moan of pleasure. Her hands rise to stroke across her own chest, her nipples rising and stiffening with the attention.
“Before we bumped into Dominic and his friends, Becky was asking me what you did while I was out, whether you’d gone out too.” Her tits start to bounce as she begins bucking her hips, riding on me at first quite gently.
“What did you say to her?” I ask, already starting to strain not to come as our bodies slowly slap against each other. I don’t want to disappoint her yet again.
“I told her you were tied up,” she gasps between panting, her shoulders undulating and head rocking back. I laugh quickly then desperately try to work out what I can mentally focus on to delay the threat of imminent orgasm.
“She didn’t believe me,” Lynne’s voice sounds husky. I feel the fingers of one of her hands crush down underneath her, between her own groin and mine as she adds to her own pleasure by fingering herself.
I play along with the fantasy, certain that Lynne would never confess tying me up and leaving me to anyone, let alone Becky, a woman not known for her ability to keep a secret.
“I told her you’ve got a submissive streak, that you like the idea of a dominatrix.”
With my orgasm now backed off but an erection incapable of retreating, I ask Lynne how Becky had reacted.
“When she stopped laughing and eventually believed I was telling the truth, she said it was a horny idea.” Lynne moves her hips and belly forward driving my cock more deeply into her before another wave of pleasure takes her over and I sense her orgasm starting to build.
I watch my wife’s tits bounce more violently above me and am tortured by not being unable to touch or suck them.
Allowing into my head the possibility that someone else may have been aware of me lying here restrained while my wife was out - proves too much for me. Almost without warning my orgasm overcomes me and I spurt up into my wife with the image and thought of Becky’s mocking laughter ringing in my face and ears as I do.
This picture remains in my mind as I lie here still tied with my breath slowing and become aware of the sound next to me. Lynne has rolled off me and has a hand between her legs, trying to get her own satisfaction.
“Why don’t you use the big vibrator? You always look so hot with that.” She pauses then smiles at me through her hair. She leans over out of the bed and reaches into her bedside drawer. As her hand returns and descends between her legs I briefly recognize the outline of the flesh-colored, cock-shaped giant I bought for her last birthday.
I watch her mouth gape open and see the goose bumps appear around her pointed nipples as she eases in and accommodates inside something twice the size of my cock.
Chapter Three
“Becky hasn’t wasted any time.” I hear Lynne beside me in bed. I turn my head on the pillow and she’s sitting up with her dressing gown around her reading her phone. She picks up a mug from her bedside table and sips her coffee. Free from the headboard after last night’s session I massage the dull ache around one of my shoulders.
She splutters with laughter as she stares at the phone.
“Hope Stuart hadn’t escaped by the time you got back!” she reads to me without looking away from screen.
For a moment, until the detail of last night comes back to me I’m confused. And then I feel my face flush at the same time as a thrill surges through me, tightening my stomach.
Is this serious? Did she actually tell Becky?
Lynne turns her phone to show me and I read another message.
“So when do I come for the 1st lesson?!!”
“What does that mean?” I feel my brow knit as I search Lynne’s eyes and then it’s her turn to go pink in the face.
“What did you say to her?”
“I told her you were tied up waiting for me to return, that it was a game we played sometimes.” Lynne returns her coffee mug to the bedside table then blows a lock of hair out of her eyes.
“What else?” I’m fearful of what I might hear next.
“Nothing much” Lynne replies, but she can’t meet my eyes.
“Like what?” My eyebrows rise at her as she smiles and slides down into the bed and over to me. I feel one of her hands between my legs. Her other hand unfastens her own gown and I feel myself start to stiffen for her as first the cool of the silk of her gown, then one of her bare breasts brushes against me.
“What else did you tell Becky?” I’m trying to regain some control of the situation.
“I just said that sometimes we like to act out that you’re my servant or slave.” Her hand is ever so gently starting to knead my shaft.
“Which is OK, because we do don’t we?” Her voice is little more than a whisper as I nod my head. It was certainly true we had done that once or twice, but not for a very long time.
My face is burning and my insides feel pulled sharply in very different directions. A confusion of dread in the pit of my stomach and yet a yearning sexual excitement at the humiliating prospect of my wife ‘outing’ me to someone else. The strangely thrilling risk that something shared so privately between Lynne and me might now rely on another woman to keep it a secret. How easily this might become common knowledge.
I ask her how her friend had reacted when she heard.
“Oh she seemed very interested. She said the feeling of power and being in control must be amazing for me. She wanted to know what I made you do.” Lynne’s grip tightens around my cock, making me gasp.
“So I told her that sometimes I make you wait on me hand and foot. That you pour me drinks and give me lovely foot massages…that you like me to order you around.”
Her hand is working my cock faster now and my breathing is heavy as I feel hers all over my face, continuing to whisper the revelations of our intimate details being shared.
“You don’t mind do you?” Her lips caress mine and it’s impossible to pro
test or resist. I’m shaking my head.
“And in any case…” she continues and moves one of my hands between her legs, “I think Becky was a bit jealous….”
I ask her what she means.
“I think she’d love Dominic to be submissive, she said it might ‘Make him stop being such a chauvinist and get him to do more around the house and more for her’. She said I’d have to show her how it’s done, how to enslave a man.”
I’m almost tempted to tell Lynne how impressed I am with her imagination but I don’t want to ruin the mood. After all, it’s getting her horny only hours after we last did it and that’s pretty much unheard of.
My fingers flick between the slippery folds of her pussy and around the stiff little button of her clit.
“I think after a few drinks I might have even promised Becky she could come around some time so she can see for herself.”
I consider the mental image of being watched submitting to my wife by another woman and groan with pleasure at the mirage.
“You’re not angry with me are you?”
I move up onto an elbow and she’s looking directly at me. She gulps and suddenly I suspect she may actually be telling the truth. I push her down onto her back before frantically poking my eager erection between her legs. I shove firmly so that I’m fully inside her, wrapped by the warmth of her pussy walls. We both gasp together.
“Would you enjoy that?” she breathes into my ear as her pussy muscles grip me,
“Becky coming here to see you waiting on me hand and foot?” I try to tell her that I would, but the thought electrifies me so much that the words don’t come out properly.
She seems to understand because she doesn’t question my response; instead she continues talking into my shoulder as I thrust frenziedly away inside her.
“If you put on a good show, maybe you could wait on us both….”
As I hear those words I gasp to another breathless orgasm inside my wife, aware that once again I’ve come before she has had the chance to.
Chapter Four
I’m in the shower. My head’s been all over the place these last few days since my wife told me what she confessed to her friend. Lynne hasn’t mentioned it at all since and I’m nervous about bringing it up myself.
I’m conflicted about the whole idea. Part of me is incredibly excited with the fantasy of another very attractive woman witnessing my humiliation. But could I handle the reality? And would it actually be a sensible idea given the size of this particular woman’s social circle and her liking for gossip?
Of course, there’s still a good chance Lynne made up that whole conversation with Becky. It might all be part of an elaborate tease. I wish women weren’t so hard to figure out. Either way, I admit I’ve jerked off more than once since at the thought that it might be true.
I step out of the shower, grabbing the nearest towel.
“I hope you’re going to be on your best behaviour tonight.” Lynne stands in front of me in a dark blue dress, her hair scraped back behind her head.
Confused, I ask her what she means, I don’t remember us having plans to go out anywhere.
“Becky’s coming round for a couple of hours.”
By the time I can figure out how to respond to this news Lynne has turned and gone downstairs. I dress quickly in jeans and black polo shirt then hurry down to her.
She’s sitting in the living room flicking through the TV channels, her face looking distracted, a little anxious.
“Are you serious Lynne?” I stand in front of her.
“Yes, but I’m not sure how good an idea it is now I’ve actually arranged it.” She looks up at me, biting her bottom lip.
I’m not surprised she’s anxious about this whole idea in the cold light of day. Impressing an attractive, popular new friend with tales about how she dominates her husband might have been quite a buzz. Having that person here, sitting-in on the whole thing would be something else entirely. Potentially very uncomfortable and awkward for all of us.
Lynne can probably see no way out of it now without losing face to someone she obviously admires.
The ‘sensible’ side of me wants to tell her she could just text Becky and ‘save face’ by blaming me for being too embarrassed to let anyone see her dominate me.
“What is it you’re worried about?” I ask instead.
She continues flicking through the channels and I realize that this whole situation is too mind-blowingly exciting an opportunity not to try to take. Especially given the effect it seems to be having on my wife’s libido.
I lower myself down to a crouch in front of her, my palms resting on her bare knees.
“Becky seeing the state of the house for a start.” She gestures around the room and sighs.
“If you don’t want to go through with it just blame me. If you do though, I can make the place tidy while you get yourself ready if you like. It could be quite exciting couldn’t it?” I feel her hand ruffle my hair.
By the time she’s swapped several more texts with Becky and I’ve heard Lynne laughing at the content which she says is ‘‘Private’’, any nerves she may have had seem to have vanished.
“What’s the plan for tonight then?” I ask as I stand in the doorway to our bedroom having finished tidying and dusting downstairs. Lynne is in her dressing gown drying her hair after bathing ahead of Becky’s arrival.
“Ah…” she turns off the hairdryer and looks over at me.
“That’s for us to know and you to find out isn’t it?”
We both seem to hear the doorbell at the same time and Lynne hurriedly picks out some white underwear and a dress. My head spins with a wild combination of both excitement and something approaching terror at what may be about to unfold.
“Actually, “Lynne smiles and brushes through her hair, “It should be you who answers the door to our guest shouldn’t it - not me?”
I feel my stomach stretched rigid as I try figure out how I’m supposed to act now. Do I go down to the door “in character”, submissively, or do I answer and let Becky in ‘normally’?
“What do I say to her?” I ask my wife as I start to feel my agitation mutate into something akin to panic.
“Just invite her in. Tell her I’ll be down in a minute.”
My mind spins like a whirlpool, crashing thoughts off each other like boulders. Physically sweating and desperately trying to calm my nerves I descend the stairs to the front door and the woman I’ve hardly ever spoken to.
By the time I’m in the hallway, I can see the outline of her figure and dark hair through the frosted glass widow of the front door. Acting submissively when I greet Becky is completely out of the question. That would be unbearably embarrassing.
Pinning what I hope is a large, natural smile on my face I open the door.
Standing on the doorstep she looks even more striking than I remember. A beautiful but emotionless face, pitch black hair loosely cascading down over her shoulders towards large breasts that dominate her slender figure.
She wears a fitted black jumper, cropped at the bottom to expose a sliver of a trim, tanned stomach. Over one shoulder is the strap of a beige leather hand bag and in her hand a bottle of wine.
“Hi Becky, come on in,” my voice thankfully sounds less thin and reedy than it feels.
She steps into the hallway and is around the same height as me. Eyes which are more gray than blue and lavishly framed by smouldering, dark make-up, momentarily meet mine. I feel pressured not to let my gaze descend to the huge chest thrusting out in front of us both.
“Hello Stuart, Is that lovely wife of yours in?” Her voice is sensual but controlled, each syllable crystal clear.
“She’s just upstairs; she’ll be down in a second.”
Self-consciously I struggle to keep my eyes above neck height and a half smile flickers across Becky’s perfectly symmetrical face. Then, delicate little fingers hand me a bottle of Cava. The glass is cool in my hand and her scent as I inhale is floral and fres
h like a combination of bergamot and jasmine.
“I like the color of your nail polish” I say, then immediately regret clumsily admiring her dark purple paintwork.
“Would you mind putting that in the refrigerator?” Her eyes assess me as I take the bottle from her.
“Come into the living room, she won’t be long.” Feeling my face flush I direct Becky towards the door away to my left. She pauses to admire herself in the hall mirror as she passes it and as she does so I rapidly try to take in the shape of her from her waist down.
Skin tight dark blue jeans taper down from what looks a very well-rounded ass to statuesquely long legs. Viewed from the side, this part of her figure reminds me of the shape of a question mark.
By the time I’ve set the bottle to chill and returned to the living room Lynne has joined Becky there. Her friend is talking loudly and after a moment or two she stops, looks over and stares from me to my wife.
“I have to say Lynne; I’m disappointed you haven’t got him in uniform!” She grins at my wife, revealing a row of perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth.
“Hey, that’s a thought isn’t it?” Lynne looks at me and makes an exaggerated widening of her eyes in my direction. I feel myself shrivel.
“I brought a nice bottle over for us and…” Becky pokes through the contents of her shoulder bag.
“This!” She holds a DVD case up to my wife. “The new rom-com starring you know who!”
“Perfect!” my wife claps her hands together then a little awkwardly waves me towards the kitchen.
“Drinks!” her voice chimes after me.
“Oh, I do I like your style!” I hear Becky laugh as I make my way into the kitchen.
My hands are unsteady and I can feel my pulse in my throat as I deliver their first drinks. Becky’s wide appraising eyes dart to mine and then she seems to stifle a smirk as she reaches out elegantly to take the wine glass from me.
The next 2 hours are divided between playing with my phone in the kitchen while I wait for Lynne to call me in to refresh their glasses - and actually serving their drinks.
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