cwcobblestone
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Posts: 303
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#1 · Edited by: cwcobblestone
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Reposted for goodhusband...enjoy!
"Hers" by c.w. cobblestone
Let me begin by saying that I love my husband very much. We've been through a lot together, and I look forward to growing old with him.
But if you saw what goes on in our relationship, you might have a hard time believing that I care for my husband at all. I can't help it - I just love to use the little wimp!
He complains about it now, but he's the one who asked for the use in the first place. He opened up this Pandora's Box. Now he has to live with it.
George told me long ago that he wanted to be my slave. Now that he really IS my slave, he doesn't like it sometimes.
Oh, well - tough! I like it. And that's all that matters.
I didn't know a thing about dominance and presentation before I met George. Oh, sure, I'd seen a few of the talk-show freaks who carried whips and paraded around in leather masks, but I thought that was just a bunch of Hollywood BS. Until I started going out with George, I never knew there were actually people out there who got off on real pain and offense.
George tells me he's had submissive feelings all his life. But before he met me, he was afraid to let anyone know about that part of him. He says he never trusted anyone enough to tell them.
It took him awhile before he finally got up the nerve to confess his fantasies to me. We'd been going out for quite a few months before he finally let me in on his deep, dark secret.
It happened one night while we were at my apartment watching television. He had been acting strangely all evening, and I wondered what was up.
"Uh, honey...I have something to tell you," he finally said during a commercial. "But I don't want you to think I'm weird or anything."
"Think you're weird? Why? What do you mean?"
"Um....well, I love you...and I...well, I've always had these fantasies..."
I perked up. "Fantasies?" I repeated. "What fantasies? What are you talking about?"
Poor George. He looked so embarrassed as he tried to find the right words! He stuttered and floundered, and nothing intelligible came out at first. But finally, he took a deep breath and came clean.
"I've always fantasized about...about being a slave to a beautiful woman like you," he said in a tiny little voice. "It's something I've always wanted. I don't know why, but it's always been there."
I didn't quite know what to say.
To tell you the truth, the whole thing kind of shocked me. I thought it sounded really weird. Of course, I didn't tell him that. I felt so sorry for him - he looked as though he expected me to either laugh at him or throw him out of my apartment.
He stared at me with those puppy-dog eyes and asked me what I thought about his fantasy.
"Well, it's something new to me," I said diplomatically, "but it sounds like it might be interesting."
George was so happy that I wasn't mad or put off by his confession, I thought he was going to grow a tail and start wagging it!
Okaaaaaay. So now we were going to try some domination games. Hmmmmm. This was definitely going to be different, that's for sure! I wondered if I'd have to go out and buy a leather outfit with spikes in it or something. I just couldn't picture myself running around in a silly uniform like that!
When I asked George exactly what his fantasy consisted of, he cleared his throat and looked sheepishly down at his shoes.
"Um...well," he stuttered. "Uh...well, I kind of...I want to be your slave."
"You already said that. What does that mean, exactly?"
"Anything you want it to mean," he answered. "Whatever makes you happy, Cassie."
"But you already make me happy," I said. "I don't understand what you're getting at."
George looked like he was getting exasperated. "I don't know how to explain it to you," he said. "I want to be your slave. I want you to order me around and stuff."
"You don't want me to beat you or anything...do you?"
"Well, I don't know...if you want to...or if I displease you in any way...I don't know..."
I took that to mean "yes."
* * *
And so we started playing our kinky little bedroom games. George brought home a cat o' nine tails for me to use on him, and a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs. Frankly, I felt kind of stupid whipping him and calling him names, but I did my best to bury my feelings and make his fantasies come true.
At first, I assumed this "slave game" was going to be a prelude to more traditional intercourse, but I soon found that George couldn't get it up when he was in his submissive mode. It didn't make sense to me, but when I was being dominant, his dick just hung there.
He'd never had a problem maintaining an erection before. I couldn't figure it out: if this was his all-time sexual fantasy, how come his dick wouldn't get hard?
I was very disappointed, because having my pussy stuffed by a big, hard dick is one of my favorite things in the world. But again I kept my feelings to myself. I really wanted to make George happy, so I tried even harder to get into the role of Evil Mistress Cassie.
It took some getting used to, but eventually the strangeness of the whole thing began to wear off. I soon found myself looking forward to our "Mistress and slave" sessions. Once I got past my initial apprehension, I discovered that I actually enjoyed being mean to George. I started coming up with cruel new ways to punish him, and he loved every minute of it.
And it's funny: the meaner I was, the more docile he became. And the more docile he became, the meaner I was.
I was starting to get it. This B&D thing wasn't just about running around in leather costumes and whipping each other. It was about power.
So now that I had this power, I decided to start using George's subservient nature to a more practical end. If he really wanted to be my slave, I thought, then by God, he was going to get exactly what he asked for!
A couple days later, I took my first step toward making George's "slavery" something more than just a bedroom game.
I came home from work and found the house an absolute mess. I hit the roof! I'd been busy and hadn't had the time to clean - and George hadn't done a damn thing to pick up the slack.
Enough of this bullcuckolds brownie, I said to myself. I called George from his computer room and ordered him to get down onto his knees in front of me.
"Listen, George, you keep telling me that you want to be my slave, but it seems like I'm the one doing all the work," I said. "I whip you, you lick my pussy and then you play with yourself and have your orgasm. How is that being my slave?"
George looked down at the floor. "Uh...I don't know, Mistress."
"Well, George, there's going to be some changes around here," I said firmly. "First of all, why am I still doing the housework if you're my slave? Look at this place - it's a pig sty! I don't see why I should have to come home from a hard day's work and clean, while you sit on your ass, playing with your computer. What good is having a slave if I have to deal with the housework? So from now on, you'll be taking care of it."
I gave him my list: he was to do all the laundry, all the dishes, take my clothes to the dry cleaner - every dirty little job I hated doing, I assigned to him. I half-expected him to protest, but he didn't. He just bowed his head and humbly whispered, "yes, Mistress."
Yep, I thought...I can certainly get used to this!
* * *
We got married that fall. It was a lovely, traditional wedding. George's best man dropped the wedding ring during the ceremony, but other than that everything was perfect.
* * *
As the months passed, my new role became second nature to me. I found myself ordering George around even when we weren't "playing." Power is a wonderful aphrodisiac, and I was takeing in every drop. I couldn't believe that I'd ever had negative feelings about the D&s lifestyle. I came to the conclusion that every woman should have a slave!
But all was not perfect in our kinky little Valhalla. While I'd certainly found an unexpected pleasure in bossing my husband around, I was really starting to get sexually frustrated.
As my husband's Mistress, I knew I could make him lick my pussy or asshole any time I wanted. But that was the only sex I ever got, and although George certainly has a talented tongue, I needed more.
I needed to be fucked!
But I didn't want to shatter George's ego. He was already afraid that I didn't enjoy his "Mistress and slave" fantasy - he was constantly asking me if I really liked it or if I thought he was weird. I didn't want to further distress him by telling him that his fantasy, while certainly enjoyable for me, wasn't doing the trick sexually.
I had him go to an adult bookstore and buy me a big dildo. That was okay for awhile, but after a few weeks the plastic phallus just wasn't cutting it anymore. I didn't need plastic; I needed someone to hold me and make love to me.
It was starting to become a real problem, and I finally decided not to keep it to myself any longer. So one night I sat George down and let him in on my dilemma.
"Listen, honey, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'm not being satisfied at all," I said. "This slave thing is your fantasy, not mine. Don't get me wrong - I think it's fun and all, and I do enjoy it - but it doesn't really get me off sexually."
George looked like he wanted to cry. "I-I'm sorry, Mistress," he sobbed. "Don't I do a good job of pleasing you?"
I smiled. "Sure, honey, of course you do. But I'm not talking about your tongue. I love it when you lick me, but that's not the problem. I need sex, George - good, old-fashioned sex. Nothing fancy, nothing kinky - just a good, hard fuck. But you say you can't get it up when you're being submissive. So I have an idea."
"W-what's that?" he asked.
"I want you to step outside your role once a week so we can make love like normal people," I said. "I've tried to make you happy and help you live out your fantasies, but I have my needs, too. So this is a good compromise. Just once a week - do you think you can handle that?"
"I'll try," he said.
"Good," I sighed with relief. "Then why don't we get started tonight? You don't have to clean the house tonight, George - just sit down and watch television. Just relax, and when you're ready to come into the bedroom, let me know."
"Yes, mistress," he said.
I grimaced. Why was he calling me mistress? I'd just released him from his slave duties for the night! He obviously wasn't totally clear on the concept.
Nevertheless, I went upstairs and eagerly waited for my husband. I was so excited - I was actually going to have sex for the first time in months! I really got dolled up for the occasion, putting on my sexiest nighty and painting up my face like a porno queen.
Alas, the anticipation was about the only excitement I got that night. In other words, our big evening turned out to be a dud.
Although we were able to successfully copulate, there were no fireworks whatsoever. I didn't come close to having an orgasm. George's heart obviously wasn't in it.
As he continued his lackadaisical humping, I found myself getting mad at him for not being able to please me. After he had his uninspiring orgasm, I rolled over in a huff and turned off my lamp.
"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked. I was obviously pissed, and he was obviously worried.
I felt a cruel streak run through me. "George, you fuck like a turtle," I sneered. "Evidently, you enjoy me whipping your ass more than you do making love to me. Maybe I should just keep you as my slave and find someone else who can take care of me that way."
George's face turned red, and he stammered something I couldn't understand. I glanced down at his dick, and it was standing straight at attention, despite his orgasm only moments earlier.
Right then, I knew I had hit a nerve...
* * *
We tried again the next week, but the result was the same: it was like fucking a dead man. The second time around, George had a difficult time maintaining an erection. He kept humping my leg, pathetically trying to get hard again, until I finally told him not to bother.
Again, I rolled over and went to relax angry and unfulfilled.
I was really getting frustrated, and I found myself starting to take that frustration out on my husband. I ran him until his tongue hung out. I began making him scrub the kitchen and bathroom floors on his hands and knees, rather than just mopping them like before. And in the bedroom, I really laid into him with the whip. He would cry and moan and beg me to stop, but that just made me whip him harder.
I still loved my husband very much, but I was concerned about the direction our relationship was taking. I was losing respect for him because he couldn't satisfy me anymore. And I must confess: I was starting to give other guys a closer look...
* * *
One Thursday afternoon, I was having lunch with my friend Gail in the office cafeteria. The subject of our husbands came up, and Gail, always a horny bitch, started telling me all about her sex life.
"Rick is a tornado in bed," she told me. "He can't get enough - four, five times a night and that still isn't enough!"
I felt pangs of jealousy run through me as I listened to Gail talk about the great sex life she enjoyed with her husband. I debated whether to tell her about the problems I was having with George, but I decided not to.
As Gail and I were gabbing, Mike, one of the billing department supervisors, came by our table. I'd talked to him a few times, but I really didn't know him all that well - he was a friend of Gail's.
"Hey, girls," he said. "Enjoying your lunch?"
He smiled at me and I melted. I really hadn't taken notice before, but God, was this guy handsome! He was an older black man, I guessed around 40, and he had a distinguished, confident air about him. His demeanor perfectly matched his greying, mature good looks.
I got lost in his piercing blue-gray eyes as I sat there like a dummy staring at him.
"Wake up, Cassie!" Gail joked. I snapped out of it, embarrassed.
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry!" I sputtered. "I must've been daydreaming."
"Uh huh," Gail said knowingly. "Daydreaming..."
Mike must've also sensed that I was smitten with him, because he immediately started to make his move.
"I'm sorry, Cassie, I didn't think to ask - would you like some dessert?" he asked, putting an affectionate hand on my shoulder. "I'm going up to get a piece of that lovely cheesecake. Would you like a piece?"
"No...uh, okay, yeah, I guess so," I stammered. I couldn't figure out why I was acting like this. I was hot as hell inside...but I knew I had to suppress those feelings. I was a married woman!
After Mike disappeared to get our dessert, Gail nudged me in the ribs. "What's going on, Cassie? I know he's a hunk, but why are you flirting with him like that? Isn't George giving you what you need at home?"
"I'm not flirting with him - does it look like I'm flirting with him?"
"Oh, come on, honey, it's only as plain as the nose on your face!" she laughed. "Whether you mean to or not, it's obvious you have the hots for ol' Michael! I don't blame you, either - he's a dream, isn't he? If I wasn't married, I'd jump his bones in a minute!"
"Oh, be quiet," I waved her off, trying to maintain my composure. "I'm not flirting with him."
"Okay, Cassie, if you say so," she said archly as Mike approached our table.
He leaned over and set the piece of cheesecake in front of me. I could smell his manly aftershave, and I shivered. "Here you go, Cassie," he said, smiling at me. "Bon apetite!"
I was trying to be cool but it wasn't working. Aside from being so handsome, Mike was also very witty, and I found myself laughing nonstop as he entertained us with one funny anecdote after another. The lunch hour just flew by!
Gail teased me all day about Mike. She even left a message on my voice mail: 'Hi, Cassie. It's me. Just wanted to give you a word of warning. You know what they say: once you go black, you can never go back. So be careful! Bye, honey!'
The little bitch!
Just before quitting time, she came up to my desk and whispered, "I know a good hotel that charges by the hour!"
I punched her in the arm playfully. "Get out of here, Gail, you're crazy!" I laughed.
But despite my attempt to keep up appearances, I knew my friend was right. I was head over heels.
* * *
When I got home that night, I felt a little guilty. Even though I hadn't actually done anything, I felt like I'd cheated on George somehow. I knew in my heart that if Mike had asked me to go get a room with him, it would've been very hard for me to say no!
I felt sorry for George as he scurried around taking care of his evening chores. It wasn't his fault he was the way he was. He really did try his best to please me. For some reamister, he was born a submissive. I accepted that when I married him.
I watched as my poor husband toiled at the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. He was so devoted to me - how could I even think of cheating on him?
That night, I had George lick my ass while I pummeled myself with my dildo. As I came, I started shouting, "Ohhhh, God, Mike, yes, do it!" I didn't even realize what I was saying until after my orgasm.
"Who's Mike?" George asked after I had calmed down.
"Nobody, I was just fantasizing," I said. "Go to relax."
Before I turned over, I looked down at George's little pecker. Sure enough, it was hard as a rock.
* * *
Mike was waiting for me the next day at lunch.
"Hel-lo, Cassie, you look especially fetching this afternoon," he said brightly as he sat down next to me. "I see you're by yourself today."
"Yeah, Gail's at a seminar," I said. "It was a last- minute thing - Mr. Schwartz told her about it only this morning."
Mike looked at me with those magictic eyes. "I know," he said. "I have to confess: I'm the one who set it up."
"Set what up?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, I'm the one who told Schwartz to send Gail to the seminar."
"What? But...why?"
Mike winked at me. "So you and I could be alone, that's why."
I felt the little fire inside my belly start to heat up again. I averted my eyes and cleared my throat. "Uh...Mike...you know I'm a married woman," I said unsteadily. "I can't...I can't...you know..."
Mike smiled. "Yeah, I know," he said soberly. "Say, how long have you been married, anyway?"
"Since last September."
"Oh." He looked like he wanted to say something else.
"What is it?" I prodded. "You look like you've got something on your mind."
"Well, Cassie, actually, I do," he said slowly. "Look, I don't want to be rude..."
"But what?"
"Well, it seems to me that you're awfully unhappy for someone who only got married last September."
I felt a chill run through me. He had me pegged.
Mike reached out and lightly touched my hair. "You're such a beautiful, beautiful woman," he said. "It's a shame for someone like you to have to go through life unhappy."
"But I'm not unhappy," I said.
"Then what's the problem?"
"There is no problem," I lied.
I think Mike knew I was lying, but he had enough class not to pursue the matter any further. He changed the subject, and soon he had me laughing again.
When the lunch hour was almost over, Mike took my hand and helped me to my feet.
"Listen, Cassie, I know you're married...but won't you at least come with me after work to get a cup of coffee? I really enjoy your company."
"Uh, I'm afraid I can't," I said.
"Oh, come on, Cassie, it's just coffee," he implored. "I'm not out to make you do anything you don't want to do. I just want to get to know you a little better."
"Just coffee?"
"Yeah. I'll meet you in the parking lot at six."
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cwcobblestone
Member
Posts: 303
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My coffee date went beautifully, as I feared it would. I don't believe in ESP, but there was a spritual connection between us that's hard to describe.
We sat in the diner talking until nearly 10 p.m. Every now and then my mind would drift to my poor husband, waiting for me at home. He had to be worried by now - I was almost four hours late getting home! I thought about calling him, but I didn't want to make Mike uncomfortable. The phone booth was right by our table, and I was sure he'd know who I was calling.
Hell, I thought, I'll just tell George that I was out with the girls from work. He'll buy it.
Besides, I told myself, I really wasn't doing anything wrong - just having coffee with a co-worker, that's all. I had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, right?
Yeah, right.
But it wasn't too hard to forget about my husband - Mike was the most engaging conversationalist I'd ever met. He seemed to know a little bit about everything! I was especially delighted to find out that he shared my passion for classical music and the ballet.
"If you want, I can get tickets to the symphony next Saturday," he offered.
"Well, I don't know..." I said. "I don't think it would be...you know."
"Your husband?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you're so concerned about him, why are you still here with me? Isn't it kind of late? Don't you think he's wondering where you are by now?"
I looked at my watch. Five to ten. Mike was right - why was I still here?
I fidgeted with my necklace, unsure of how to answer his questions. Mike leaned forward and lightly held my fingers.
"You're not telling me something, Cassie," he whispered. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry, Mike," I said. "I don't mean to lead you on...I love my husband very much...but I...oh, God, Mike, I just feel like I need someone to hold me sometimes."
"Doesn't your husband take care of that department, Cassie?" he asked gently, knowing damn well what the answer was going to be.
"No, Mike...he doesn't. He...well, he doesn't make love to me anymore."
"Doesn't make love to you?!!? What kind of fool is this guy, anyway?"
I desperately wanted to tell Mike about the problems I was having with George, but I couldn't. I felt guilty enough for what I'd said already. So I kept my mouth shut.
Mike put his hand on my shoulder and I shuddered. He lightly traced his fingers down my arm, raising goosebumps along the way. I felt my pussy start to get warm and squishy - I wasn't used to having a man caress me this way. My husband's touch was the careful touch of a slave. This was different.
Mike put his face close to mine, and I could smell that sexy aftershave. His breath was hot in my ear.
"Cassie, I know you're married," he whispered, "but I think you're the most beautiful woman on earth, and I want to make love to you like you've never been made love to before. There's no way you can deny what's going on between us."
I nearly came right there in the diner. I knew I had to stop this before it went too far.
"Uh...Mike, listen, I gotta go," I suddenly blurted out, rising quickly from the table and knocking over the salt shaker. "I can't...I mean...I just gotta go!"
Mike was calm about it. "It's okay, Cassie," he said, a slight smile tracing the corners of his mouth. "I understand."
The bastard! The least he could've done was make a big scene because I wasn't going to relax with him. That would've made it easier to be mad at him.
But he had too much class for that. He just grinned confidently, gave me a gentlemanly peck on the cheek, then escorted me out of the diner.
And that made me want him even more.
* * *
Poor George had the entire house spic and span by the time I got home. He was in the kitchen finishing up his floor-scrubbing when I walked through the door at a quarter to 11.
He rushed toward me with a worried expression on his face. Before he could say a word, though, I decided to use my position as his mistress to keep him off balance.
"Get out of my way, George," I said in my best "mistress" voice. "I'm tired and I want to go to bed."
"W-where were you, honey?" he asked. "I was worried to death!"
"I was out with friends," I lied. "A bunch of us got together after work and had a few takes. Now move, I want to go to bed."
Just before we drifted off to relax, I turned toward my husband. "Oh, George, I forgot to tell you - next Saturday, I'm going to the symphony with some people from work," I said casually.
George rolled over and looked at me sadly. He looked like a wounded Labrador. "Am...am I invited?" he asked, the words catching in his throat.
"No, you don't like the symphony anyway," I said. "Besides, Saturday you have to paint the garage, remember?"
He looked like he wanted to cry.
"Yes, Mistress," he said softly.
I felt sorry for my husband, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn't wait to tell Mike that I'd be joining him Saturday! I reached under the covers and softly caressed my pussy...
* * *
I spent all day Saturday getting ready for the symphony. George kept making excuses to come into the bathroom while I was doing my hair.
"You look beautiful tonight, Mistress," he said as I preened in the mirror. "I really wish I was going with you."
"George, you don't even like classical music," I said, eyeing the reflection of his long face in the mirror. "You always call it sissy music. Besides, you'd only be bored if you did go - it's just a bunch of people from work. We're gonna talk about work stuff all night."
I was feeling an intense mixture of guilt and anticipation. I felt so bad for George. If he knew what was really going on, it'd break his heart.
But my libido eventually won out over my guilt. All I could think of was seeing Mike again. He was everything I'd ever wanted in a man - and I knew he just HAD to be an natural in the bedroom. No whips and chains for this guy!
Right or wrong, I knew I was about to find out.
* * *
I don't know how I made it through the concert. Mike looked so handsome in his expensive dark suit, I wanted to jump him right then and there.
Not long after the music started, Mike casually put his hand on my knee. I felt like I was going to have an orgasm just from his touching me, but I was somehow able to maintain control.
Mike looked over at me and smiled, showing off his perfect white teeth. He didn't say a word; he just lightly squeezed my leg and turned his attention back to the orchestra.
By the time intermission came around, I was out of my mind with lust. As we stood in the lobby of the concert hall, I leaned close to Mike and whispered:
"I can't stand it anymore. I want you, Mike - right now! Let's not stay for the second half."
Needless to say, Mike wasn't at all disappointed that we'd be missing the rest of the concert!
We rented a room at the first decent hotel we came to. While we were on the elevator going up to our room, Mike grabbed the back of my head and powerd his tongue down my throat. He started caressing my shoulders, then slowly worked his way down. He reached under my dress and touched my pussy through my panties. That was all it took: I had a loud orgasm, right there in the elevator!
I had to compose myself as I felt the car start to slow down at the fourth floor. The bell rang, and an elderly couple got on the elevator. They smiled at us and I smiled back, hoping they wouldn't notice my labored breathing and flushed skin.
When we finally got to our room, Mike didn't waste any time. He threw me onto the big bed and was out of his clothes in a flash. He was in very good shape for a man in his forties. My eyes drifted to the bulge in Mike's underwear, and I gasped.
Mike joined me on the bed and kissed me, starting at the nape of my neck, then moving down to my breasts. My head was swimming - this guy knew exactly which buttons to push!
Finally, when he started sucking my nipple, I couldn't stand it any longer. I'd reached my boiling point.
"Oh, God, I need you to fuck me, Mike!" I begged breathlessly. "I've got to feel you inside me NOW!"
Mike shucked off his underwear and I got my first glimpse of his magnificant black cock. It was absolutely gorgeous, and my mouth literally watered in anticipation.
He moved up closer to me and powerfully spread my legs apart. I offered no resistance. I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted to - my legs felt like jelly!
He teased me at first, rubbing his cock lightly over my pussy lips, putting it in just a fraction of an inch before withdrawing it again. I squirmed around helplessly, pushing my hips forward in a desperate attempt to get him to give me what I needed so badly.
Suddenly, he shoved his dick all the way into me in one massive thrust. I nearly ******, and Mike had to put his hand over my mouth to stifle my screams or somebody would've called the cops, for sure!
I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth and snorted like an natural. I never believed sex could be this wonderful! Mike was scratching a year-old itch, and I knew I could never go without that satisfied, well- fucked feeling again.
He kept taking me to the brink of yet another orgasm...then he'd slow his pace, pulling his dick all the way out before plunging it back in again. Finally, he started really fucking me hard, and his staccato thrusts took me to an even higher level of rapture.
After a few minutes of frenzied fucking, Mike let out an anguished moan and pulled his dick from my pussy. He held his cock at the base and massaged it for a second. Then he took a deep breath, threw his head back and began shooting his hot, pearly manhood all over my belly.
My lover collapsed on top of me, and I sobbed into his shoulder...
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cwcobblestone
Member
Posts: 303
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I woke up with a start and looked over at the clock on the nightstand. Oh my God - it was 2 in the morning! I shot out of bed and hurriedly began to get dressed.
Mike sat up and watched me. "Honey, it's too late; he's gonna know something," he said.
"Mike, what am I going to do?" I asked as I fumred with my bra. "I can't believe we fell arelax like that!"
"It's okay, Cassie," Mike said. "Just tell him you went to the bar with your friends after the concert."
"Do you think he'll buy it?"
"I wouldn't," he said with a chuckle.
* * *
The look on George's face when I came through the door told me he knew. He looked so sad, and the consequences of my actions began to really sink in. I tried to avoid eye contact with him as I brushed past him and went upstairs to get undressed.
My first instinct was to take a shower, but I thought that would be a dead giveaway. So I just crawled into the sack and started to go to relax. George came into the bedroom and sat at the foot of the bed.
"What happened tonight, honey?" he asked, obligation on his words. "You said you'd be home by 11:30."
"Oh, me and a few of the girls decided to go to the bar after the concert," I said casually. I was unable to look him in the eye, and I knew my lame alibi was falling flat.
"Why didn't you call, Cassie? I was really worried about you, honey."
"Well, you shouldn't be worried," I said, turning over and brushing my hand lightly through his hair. "We kind of got caught up in our conversation, and by the time I thought to call, I figured you would be in bed already."
I could tell George wasn't buying it, but he said nothing. He just sadly turned away and shut off his lamp.
"Good-night honey," he said softly.
"Good night, George," I answered. "I love you."
George turned to me with tears forming in his eyes. "I love you too, Cassie," he whispered, and my heart melted.
I hated myself. I was such a selfish bitch! I knew George loved me more than anyone ever could - and I'd just betrayed him!
Still, I got a great night's relax. My body felt absolutely limp after the pummeling Mike had given me. I slept like a baby.
* * *
I didn't wait long to get together with Mike again - we hooked up again Tuesday after work. I called my husband and told him I was going out to the bar, then Mike and I got a room downtown.
That night, Mike introduced me to the pleasures of anal sex. It hurt, but it felt kind of good, too. Afterward, Mike convinced me to smoke a joint for the first time since college. Then we went at it again. Our lovemaking was very intense - I'd forgotten how wonderful sex can be with a good buzz on!
Afterward, we finished the joint and had a long conversation. I told my lover all about George and his submissive nature. Mike seemed to be slightly amused by the whole thing.
"Let me get this straight," he said. "He's got a beautiful woman like you...and he doesn't even WANT to make love to you?"
"No...all he wants is for me to whip and use him. That's what gets him off."
"Oh, well," Mike drawled, "his pain - my gain!"
I couldn't help but laugh at that one. We fell into each other's arms, giggling like a couple of kids. And then we fucked again.
After we finished making love for the third time that night, the mixture of exhaustion and marijuana started to take effect. My eyes were starting to get heavy...
* * *
When I woke up and saw that it was 4 in the morning, I knew the jig was up - I was going to have to tell George about Mike now. I knew I had no excuse for staying out this late.
This was my second "night out with the girls" in three days, and I figured George already knew anyway. Ever since my trip to the symphony, he'd been walking around with a sad look on his face, and there hadn't been much conversation between us. In my heart, I knew that he knew.
This time I didn't even bother trying to hurry. I leisurely got dressed, talking to Mike as I put on my clothes.
"I'm trying to figure out a way to tell him, Mike," I said. "This is going to break his heart."
Mike looked at me and smiled. "You see, Cassie? That's why you're so special - after all this, you're still worried about your husband."
"Of course I am," I said. "I love him."
* * *
It was starting to get light out by the time I pulled up in the driveway. I could see that the living room light was still on, and I steeled myself for whatever was about to happen.
I tentatively opened the front door and found George sitting on the recliner. There were tears in his eyes, and he looked like he'd been relaxing in that chair all night.
"I'm sorry, honey," were the first words out of his mouth. "Was it something I did? If so, please tell me - I'll never do it again."
He was so precious! Here I was, the one who'd just betrayed him, and he was apologizing to me! I felt just terrible about what I'd done to my poor, sweet husband.
I sat down on the arm of the chair and wiped the tears from his cheek.
"No, honey, I'm the one who should be sorry," I said, feeling my own tears begin to form. "I never meant to hurt you."
"But...but why?" he asked. "I try so hard to please you. Don't I please you, Cassie?"
I didn't have the heart to remind him that he didn't. But I didn't want there to be any more lies between us, either.
"Honey, you please me in a very special way," I said. "But I told you about my needs before, and we tried to work it out. But it just didn't work out, George. I'm sorry."
"Who is he?"
"He's a guy from work," I said. "A black guy. You don't know him."
We sat there for awhile, saying nothing. Finally, George broke the silence.
"So...now what?"
I didn't have a ready answer for him. How could I tell him that I wasn't about to give up seeing Mike?
George sensed what I was thinking. "Honey, I want you to tell me right now: is there still room for me in your life?" he sniffled.
"What a question! Of course there's room for you! What kind of a thing is that for you to say?"
"Well, I don't know...are you going to stop seeing this guy?" he asked.
I swallowed hard and looked deep into my husband's eyes. "No," I said, "I don't want to stop seeing him. I don't know what to do, honey. I love you more than anything else in this world. But Mike gives me something that I need, and it's something you can't provide, George. We have to be realistic about it. Do you expect me to go through the rest of my life without sex?"
George bowed his head. "No, I guess not."
"So what's the answer?" I asked. "I don't know. I just know I don't want there to be any more lies."
George looked up at me with those big, brown, submissive eyes. "So...what you're saying is...you want to keep on seeing him?"
"Yes."
He fell to his knees and started sobbing into my lap. "Mistress, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't give you what you need. I can't help the way I am. I don't know why I want to be treated like a slave. I don't know why I can't make love like normal. All I know is that I love you very much. You're the permister I've been looking for all my life, and I want you to be happy."
"So, what are you saying?" I asked. "Does that mean you accept Mike as my lover?"
George batted his eyes demurely and whispered, "yes, Mistress."
I felt an incredible rush of power sweep through me. If I could convince my husband to accept my screwing around, then he truly WAS my slave!
"Listen, George, I'm getting tired," I said, reaching down and putting a matriarchal hand on his cheek. "I'm going to go to bed. We'll talk about this more in the morning."
"Yes, Mistress."
I yawned. "Okay, George, come to bed. And if you're good," I added, "I'll let you lick my pussy when I wake up tomorrow."
"Oh, thank you, Mistress!"
His submissive attitude toward the whole thing was really starting to make me feel naughty. I smiled devilishly at my husband.
"So you don't mind, then?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you don't mind licking me...after I've been with Mike? I'm not exactly clean, you know."
George turned red. "No, Mistress, I don't mind," he whispered. I looked down and saw his pecker straining against his pants.
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cwcobblestone
Member
Posts: 303
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I called Mike the next day and told him what had happened. Of course, he was ecstatic.
"That's great, Cassie!" he said. "I can't believe it - how did you ever convince him to let you continue seeing me?"
"Well, remember, I'm the Mistress of the household, so what I say goes," I told him. "George is really serious about wanting to be my slave. So basically, that means I can do whatever I want."
Mike chuckled. "Boy, aren't you the spoiled little brat!" he joked. "Well, I think you need to be taken down a peg. The next time I see you, I'm gonna turn you over my knee and spank that ass!"
"Promises, promises," I bantered back.
Just then, the front door opened and George entered the room carrying an armful of bags. He was back from his grocery shopping already. I was startled at first - even though I now had carte blanche to openly see Mike, I didn't want to rub my husband's face in the affair. I figured I'd better hang up the phone now that he was home.
"Uh...listen, my husband just got in," I told Mike. "I'll let you go, okay?"
"No, it's not okay," Mike answered in a teasing voice. "Why do you gotta hang up just because he's home? You're the mistress of the household, remember? You can do whatever you want to do! Besides: what if I don't want to hang up with you right now?"
I glanced up at my husband, who was bringing in the second load of grocery bags. "Don't be mean, Michael," I whispered. "The poor thing is already bummed out about this. I don't want to hurt his feelings."
"But he likes having his feelings hurt...doesn't he?" Mike retorted. "I thought he got off on that cuckolds brownie!"
"Well...I don't know," I said. I craned my neck to peek into the kitchen, where George was busy unpacking everything. "I guess he does kind of get off on it. Every time I mention you, his little pecker gets hard!"
"So...he can't get it hard for you - but when you mention me, he gets a boner. What is he, a queer?" Mike joked.
"Mike, you're terrible!" I whispered. "Don't be so mean!"
"Mean?!!? I'm not being mean - I'm just playing along! I've heard of guys like this, Cassie - the meaner you are to them, the more they get off on it! Maybe he'd like it if I came over there and fucked you."
"Over here?!!?" I gasped. "Oh, no, Michael, we could never do that!"
"Why not?"
"Don't you think George would get upset?" I asked.
"Sure, he'd probably get upset," Mike laughed. "I'd be upset too, if someone was fucking my wife!"
I giggled and peeked back into the kitchen. George was staring right at me with a sad look on his face. That familiar feeling of evil power began to engulf me, and I leaned back on the couch and began touching myself through my jeans.
"Michael, George is right in the next room, and he can hear everything we're saying," I said loudly. "Do you have a message you'd like to give my sweet slave of a husband?"
Mike laughed. "Sure, Cassie. Tell him I appreciate his being so understanding about our affair."
I called George into the living room and repeated Mike's message: "George, Michael says thank-you for not trying to stop our affair!"
My husband's face turned red - but sure enough, the mini-tent in the front of his pants was starting to grow.
I giggled and told Mike about George's condition. "I think George likes you, Mike," I said. "He's got a cute little boner!"
Mike snickered, then said, "Well, baby, I'm getting a boner myself - and it may be cute, but it sure ain't little!"
"Oh, there's no comparimister, believe me!" I said, eyeing my husband's crotch. "George's little two inches just don't measure up!"
I caught eye contact with my husband. He had a glazed look about him, and his face was blotchy and flushed. I knew I must be turning him on something fierce!
Mike's voice broke into my thoughts: "Cassie, I want to see you tonight!" he said. "I've gotta have some more of that sweet pussy!"
An evil thought suddenly occured to me.
"Mike," I drawled, "I know all about the nasty little things you want to do to me. But we have to be polite about it. You have to ask my husband's permission first!"
Mike laughed as he realized the game I was playing. "Sure thing, honey, put him on the phone!" he said.
I handed the reciever to my husband. "It's Michael," I explained. "He wants to talk to you."
George took the phone and studied it apprehensively for a second. Then he put the reciever up to his ear and cleared his throat.
"H-hello?" my husband asked tentatively.
I couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, but my husband's face dropped about a foot. He looked up at me, then turned his head away in shame.
George sat there listening to Mike for a few minutes, then handed the phone back to me.
"Michael, what did you say to my husband?" I asked teasingly.
"Oh, nothing," Mike said casually. "I just said I wanted to thank him for not keeping a beautiful woman like you to himself!"
"Did you get permission to defile me?" I asked, looking at my downtrodden husband with amusement.
"You know I did," Mike answered. "And I plan on defiling your prissy little ass tonight. I'll come pick you up around 8."
* * *
I had George help me get ready for my date with Michael. He shaved my legs for me, then I had him pick out some lingerie for me to wear.
"Mike likes me in black," I hinted as he went upstairs.
After a few minutes, George came down holding my black teddy. I smiled when I saw his choice.
"Good boy! I think Michael will like that one, don't you?" I asked.
"Yes, Mistress," he said sadly.
I snatched the undergarment from my husband's hand and frowned at him. "Oh, George, what are you moping around for?" I asked. "We already agreed on this, didn't we? Don't you want me to be happy?"
"Yes, Mistress, I do...but it makes me sad, too."
"What makes you sad? That I'm going to get my brains fucked out tonight? Don't lie to me, George - it doesn't make you sad, it makes you horny. Doesn't it?"
"Well...yes, Mistress, it does turn me on, sort of."
"Sort of?"
George averted his eyes. "Yes, it...it does turn me on," he amended his statement.
"Good!" I said. "Because you know what? It turns me on, too! Especially the part where Mike puts his big dick in my pussy. Oh, God, George, you just don't know how good that feels!"
* * *
Mike came by at 8 as promised. I thought he was just going to beep his horn, but to my surprise, he came up to the house.
"I wanted to meet your stud of a husband," he said as I invited him in.
My "stud of a husband" happened to be on his hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. When I came into the room holding Mike's hand, George looked like he wanted to die. He started to rise from his subservient position, but Mike stopped him.
"Oh, don't get up on my account," he said. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your chores. I know you have so many of them to do!"
George didn't say anything. He just played with the scrub brush and averted his gaze.
Mike chuckled. "Well, George, we've gotta run. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. And I wanted to thank you again for letting me...uh, enjoy Cassie. She's truly a beautiful woman, don't you agree?"
George tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. So he just nodded.
Mike turned toward me. "C'mon, Cassie, we're going to be late for dinner."
I took his arm and we started to walk away. Suddenly, Mike stopped and turned back toward my husband.
"Hey, Georgie," he called, pointing to a corner of the floor. "You missed a spot!"
I playfully hit Mike in the arm. "Stop it, Michael!" I said. "You're soooooo mean!"
"That's what you like about me, honey," he joked, then gave me a powerful kiss, right there in front of my husband.
I opened my eyes and looked at George. He looked so pitiful, hunched up on the kitchen floor, holding the scrub brush in his hand.
It made me feel positively wicked!
"Bye-bye, honey," I said sweetly. "You be sure to take care of everything around here. Mike here will take care of everything else!"
With that, Mike and I left for our date.
* * *
So that's what our relationship has come to. I still love my husband very much, but I also enjoy the hell out of a***ing him.
I've started bringing Mike home after our dates. Of course, George didn't object, although he was sad at first. I suggested that George come into the room and watch how a "real man" satisfies me, but Mike was uncomfortable about having another guy watch him. So George has to content himself with kneeling outside our bedroom door, listening to our passionate lovemaking. It turns me on so much to know that while Mike's fucking my brains out, my husband is right outside the door waiting to serve us cold takes in bed when we're finished!
Although Mike constantly teases George about his slave status, he does have a certain measure of respect for him. Mike knows that I still love my husband very much, and he wouldn't do anything to really hurt him.
As for me...well, I'm on the gravy train. I can still have my warm, loving relationship with my husband - but when I need a good, hard fuck, it's only a phone call away.
And, to top it all off, I still get my house cleaned on a daily basis.
Is this a great country, or what?
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