Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Chapter 3
The morning after Mr. Marks first visit to our home, where he gave me my first true spanking in front of my husband, I brought my boundary list into his office.
“Sir, as instructed.” I set it on the desk in front of him.
“Thank you, my pet.” He opened the envelope and read quietly.
It lifted my heart to hear his term of endearment. It was overwhelming to be in his presence. His serenity, his good looks. I remembered cuddling with him last night with my tears soaking his dress shirt, running my fingers through his neatly trimmed beard flecked with white. I understood now the urge to call Allen, ‘Daddy,’ although that wasn’t my thing. I’m trying to become the woman I need to be. (I liked to call him Sir because I could use it anytime and I would just seem polite, and also because he was like nobility to me.)
My attraction was more than the age difference. It had simmered a long time as simply a younger girl’s fantasy before it exploded in these few days since he joined the company. And the time between those days when he was living in my dad’s house as a guest and now as the new CTO at my dad’s company had only seasoned him, not unlike the salt and pepper of his beard and hair. I’m sure other girls would accuse me of doing that schoolgirl thing where you backdate your attraction to justify just how deeply in love you were, but this began long ago and while he wasn’t in my life in those years, I etched him in my heart and he played a lead role in my fantasies.
Last night, Allen had given me the assignment of making a list of red and yellow boundaries and compiling it was instructive, to say the least. Allen was right about needing to set boundaries while sex sober. And while I was still performing the hourly edgings (as I now knew they were called officially) I could find a space between where my husband, Tim, and I could do our research. And Allen was also right that Tim would know how to access the broad list of fetishes.
While porn sites gave us a good baseline, it was when I discovered the adult erotic stories that I saw the breadth of kinks available. Some were so dark, I realized they were unfilmable even as porn. With narrative, I could see myself in the stories. Plus, what copywriter doesn’t love a good index? It was a challenge not to get lost in the variations. I would read some aloud and see if Tim would respond.
I learned what a cuckold was. I learned what a hot wife was. And it was reassuring to see the broad spectrum even there. I didn’t feel comfortable calling myself hot, and the term cuck was a little too much for me. It seemed too posh. But Tim seemed to get off on it. Maybe it was the hard consonants and the short vowel. Like, ‘fuck,’ it just felt satisfying to say. I looked forward to trying it out.
Talking through the fetish scenarios with Tim helped me to feel not only less ashamed of my kinks but also more in possession of them. We could explore and shape our own experience of these things. And we had a guide and mentor to this scene in Allen.
When Tim and I signed that agreement to commit our marriage and our bodies to Sir, just two days ago, I don’t think we understood then that it would be more than just sex. I was seeing how it was opening me up not just physically, but mentally. Being around him quieted my chattering mind while also stirring my emotions. Being spanked last night was like being in a trance — a flow state. I saw that the more I was around him, the less anxiety I felt. (I felt other things!) I didn’t need to control everything. I could just be his. (No wonder cults fuck their gurus.)
The list I handed Allen was a couple of handwritten pages. I noted them in red for no and yellow for maybe. I had many red and twice that number of maybes. Yellows made me a little nervous. But Sir was right. While in the heat of passion, I said I would do anything. But I saw now there were kinks I had never considered. I hoped I would be adventurous enough to make Sir happy. I so badly wanted him to continue. My feelings were deepening.
My phone alarm buzzed, and I slipped my hand into my skirt to edge myself again. Sir didn’t even look up as I now expertly brought myself right to the cusp of climax. I believed now that a person could walk by the open office door and see me from behind and have no idea I was doing anything more than holding a folder or clipboard while I waited patiently for the CTO to review my work.
At one point, he reached up and grabbed a pen and made a little note next to one yellow. Then I saw him correct a typo. That was devastating. I had rewritten the list several times because I wanted it both handwritten and letter perfect.
Finally, he set it down. I tried to see his notes but he folded the letter back up. He really knew just how to torture me.
“Thank you, Becky, for taking the time. I could tell you took the assignment seriously.”
I felt pride well up in me as I slowly licked my fingers clean again for him.
“And congratulations on finishing onikişubat escort your 24 hours. That will be your last one… for now.”
My face fell, and Allen smiled at me.
“Disappointed you don’t get to play with yourself all day?”
“I… Sir…” I tried to defend myself, but the truth was the truth. “Yes.”
“I’m not stopping you, Becky. Do it all you like, but don’t come.” He leaned back in his chair. I glanced down at his crotch and could tell there was a growing erection. “Still,” he said, “I need you focused on this project and I can’t have you diddling around all day.” He winked and I blushed.
“And I can’t have sloppy mistakes like these.” He pointed at the letter. “In any of your work for me. I expect perfection, Rebecca. I will tally all your typos, grammar mistakes, and other failures. These will have consequences.”
I felt a flush of fear and heat. To be perfect was my only goal. I wanted to show him how good I was as a writer. Yet, I ached to be punished. He was literally pitting my ego against my eros. I could be good or I could be bad.
He said, “Can you handle that? Or will you be too distracted?”
I looked up from his crotch where my thoughts had wandered.
“Sir, I will not disappoint you.”
“Good. Now, every moment with you is precious to me. But I don’t have the freedom to spend my whole day with you. So, we should set aside an hour at the end of each day where we can go over your work… carefully.” His insinuation was not lost on me. “We’ll need to focus, so I’ll make sure my staff knows we’re not to be interrupted.”
“Yes, Sir. I look forward to working closely with you.”
“Excellent. As will I. Now, I think we should have lunch together. I need to ask you about some photographs I’ve recently come across that might apply to our work.”
Immediately, I thought back to the photo I took last night where Tim was in the background, his crotch dripping in his cum. (And after our research, I now know it as a ‘ruined orgasm.’) And there was a second, similar picture, where the orgasm wasn’t ruined but deliberately brought about because I needed an excuse to punish my husband. My heart sank because I knew somehow I’d disappointed Allen.
We ate lunch at the club where Allen was a regular. Toni was there again — the young blond who I knew Sir had fucked. It was lunch, so there were no drinks but we had a nice meal.
“So, my pet, about those cum shots in your photos.”
I loved when he called me his pet. It quickened my pulse. Funny, I didn’t even flinch when he said ‘cum shots’ here in public. I noted how quickly I adjusted to casual use of sexual terminology. He seemed comfortable in this restaurant. And it was true; I recognized no one here, even though it was close to work. Then again, it was fairly hard to see anyone. The banquettes had high walls and the dining area was broken up into smaller rooms. It seemed designed for quiet confidences. I half expected to see cigar smoke wafting up from all the backroom dealing.
But there was the question of Tim and his orgasms. He ejaculated in his pants while watching Sir spank me last night, and Sir charged me with Tim’s punishment. That went very well until it didn’t.
“Sir,” I said, “I’m sorry. It was my fault. I was angry because I learned what Tim got to do.”
“Oh?”
“He… confessed that he had taken your cock in his mouth.” I couldn’t help myself. I still whispered the word “cock” in public.
Allen laughed. “Oh, that.” He reached over and swept a strand of hair from the corner of my mouth. “You were jealous.”
“Why did he get to do it first? Before me?”
“So, you think you have earned that privilege?”
“Uh… well I thought…”
“What did my pet think? That I wanted her mouth?”
I felt the cold running through me. Didn’t he want me that way?
“Did I do something wrong, Sir?”
“You questioned my actions. You presumed a right that I’d yet to grant.”
I felt flustered. I stared at my plate.
Allen’s voice was firm but not angry, yet I felt the sting of every syllable. “When I take your mouth. If I take your mouth, it will be at the precise moment of my choosing. Do you understand?”
“Y- yes, Sir. I’m so sorry.” I actually cried. It wasn’t the scolding, or that I thought I wasn’t good enough or sexy enough. He chose me (us.) No, I realized I was catching real feelings for him. I didn’t just want to please him. I wanted to be the one for him. Toni over there, smirking as I cried over my Caesar salad. She’d sucked his cock for certain. She knew how to please him and he seemed to enjoy parading me in front of her. Was I merely bait to fire up Toni’s enthusiasm the next chance he got to fuck her?
Allen stroked my shoulder. “There, there, my pet. I know it feels harsh, but you have to be patient. I’ve been patient. I waited all these years.”
I looked up at him. My eyes were red, but I found hope in ‘all these years.’
He said, “If I were cruel, I would have taken you ordu escort back when you were eighteen and eager. But I needed you to bump up against the world. I needed you to feel the frustration of an unfulfilled life before you could appreciate the life I could offer you. And the risk for me was that you would actually find another man like me, or worse, a man like me, but impatient and unkind.”
I flashed on the image of my former lover, the one that I had the affair with.
Allen said, “And it was always possible that a nice quiet marriage with a loving, supportive husband would fulfill you and that I would learn I was wrong all along — that you weren’t meant for me. And I would be grateful that I hadn’t taken you down my path.”
My heart swelled. I wiped tears from my cheeks. I beamed at Allen. “I am meant for you,” I said.
“See? So, while I’m glad you want to do all those things with me, I want you to see me first as a man who loves you, who cherishes you, who will protect and nurture your passions.”
My heart pounded in my chest at the words, ‘a man who loves you.’ I curled up to him and kissed him. I said, “Can’t you do all that while fucking my brains out?”
Allen laughed. He stroked my cheek. Then, with his thumb, he stroked my lower lip softly. Low and soft, he said, “I will savor the moment when the crown of my cock finally slips over these lovely lips for the first time.”
As he said this, he slid his thumb over my tongue. “I will take my time as I stare into your eyes, knowing that you’ve ached so long for my cock to slide over your tongue. I will thrill with that first flicker of fear in your eyes as your mouth stretches and you wonder if you can do this, if you can open wide enough.”
He pressed his thumb down against my tongue, gently easing my jaw open. “And still more as you feel me going deeper.” He pushed the thumb further along my tongue, deeper into my mouth. I saw my drool literally dripping down and off his knuckle.
“Finally, that first hint of panic as my cock reaches the back of your tongue tickling the edge and you feel the urge to push it out. You don’t know if you can take it.”
He pressed the root of his thumb against my lips, sealing my mouth. “And finally,” he said, “That first true sense you cannot breathe, that my cock has closed your throat. Will I choke, you’ll wonder. Will I gag? Will he keep going either way?”
The fear was turning to lust in my chest. I was breathing heavily through my nose as I imagined the next step — the blocking of my airway.
I suckled his thumb, swirling it with my tongue. He pressed deeper, and I felt the tip of his thumb gently press against the back of my tongue, soothing the reflex.
“You’ll wonder,” he said. “How this can only be half-way inside me?”
I moaned. I reflexively reached down to rub myself. I didn’t care that Toni was watching, as I knew she must be. I wanted to be the woman who was publically having her mouth hand-fucked by her Domme while she rubbed her needy pussy.
I remembered the girl in the garage who couldn’t get her lips to the base of his cock, who almost cried for being unable to swallow his entire shaft. I understood I might not be ready. But I was so, so eager to prepare, to practice.
He said, “Are you afraid?”
“Mm hm.”
“But you know that one day, I’m going to press past this point and you will literally take my cock down your throat to the root, massaging it with each contraction, hoping that I’ll cum before you pass out, begging me with your eyes to give you something more to swallow.”
With that, I came with his hand pressed into my mouth and my hand deep in my pussy. My muffled groans were undeniable to anyone in the club as the pleasure of an orgasm sounding out.
I had closed my eyes, but as he slid his thumb out, I opened them. I saw Toni standing at our table. My first thought was that she was going to ask us to leave. Instead, she handed him a hot washcloth, which he used to clean his hands. I sat up and tried to straighten my hair under her steady gaze. Toni held out a second washcloth to me.
Allen stopped her. “The lady doesn’t need that.” Then he looked at me so I could not deny the meaning. I lifted my hand up to my face and licked my fingers. At first, I looked at Allen, but he flicked his eyes to Toni, and so I looked her in the eye and savored my own juices. She didn’t blink, but I found satisfaction in the tiniest little flick of her tongue against her lips.
Allen at last passed the hand towel back to Toni, who nodded and left.
“I feel so… dirty,” I said proudly. I felt like a naughty schoolgirl caught by the teacher.
Sir said, “You came, my pet.”
Fuck, I never asked permission! I got lost, and it felt like he wanted me to do it.
“We were in the moment,” I whined.
“See?” he said. “It doesn’t feel fair, does it?”
And now I understood. He did to me what I’d done to my husband last night — set an impossible task just to have an excuse for örnekköy escort punishment.
“I understand, Sir. I’m so sorry. I embarrassed you. I’ll…”
He put up a finger to stop me.
“You didn’t embarrass me or yourself. I think by now you’ve realized why I like this place. It is highly tolerant… and discrete. In fact, tonight you and Tim will join me here for dinner, where I can address the recent transgressions from both of you.”
I felt heartbroken that I’d failed. But I felt thrilled to learn I was getting to spend more time with Allen, even if that meant my husband was with us. I imagined how Tim would have felt watching what had just happened. I laughed to myself. He’d probably be the one holding the washcloth for Sir.
As we returned to the office and I got into my work, I found it a little easier to focus on my tasks. Knowing that I would have the reward at the end of the day helped, but also I knew Sir was taking care of me. I trusted that he would let me know what to do and when, which made it easier to focus on the present.
I texted Tim and let him know our dinner plans to make sure he didn’t start dinner. Also, I ‘admitted’ to Tim that Sir had taken me to lunch and how he had put his hand in my mouth and made me come right there in the booth in front of the server.
“OMG!” was Tim’s reply.
“OMFG, was what I wanted to scream, but my mouth was full,” I texted. Then, “I didn’t have permission, though.”
He replied with a hug emoji, then he texted a pic of his erection pressing against his shorts. I had to laugh, but wrote, “Put that away. I don’t need to see the dessert menu. I’m going for the main course.”
Cruel, but somehow I knew Tim would relish it and I wanted him to feel that all afternoon.
I had my first end-of-day session with Sir and he was all business. Did I read him wrong? But a few minutes in, there was a knock and Allen immediately said, “Enter” in an annoyed tone. His assistant came in. She had an expectant expression, but all she saw was Allen and me at the side table with our laptops open while making notes.
She said, “Uh, I wanted to see if you needed dinner ordered.”
“No, and thank you for thinking of it, Tanya,” he said. “We won’t be that long.”
She nodded sheepishly and began to close the door.
Sir stopped her. “In the future, I ask that we be allowed to focus. If you need to go home, don’t worry about me. I can manage a dinner order, but the point of this meeting is to have enough uninterrupted time that we won’t need to go long.”
She said, “Of course,” looking more chastened, and closed the door.
Allen winked at me. “The curse of my energy is so many helpful women. But that conversation ensures our privacy from now on.”
I shook my head. He’s thinking so far ahead. I also made a note to hate that assistant. I didn’t need her ‘helping’ Allen.
Allen sent me home after a few minutes. I noticed Tanya was hanging back by the copier. I guess she wanted to make sure I’d leave. I smiled and waved goodbye as I left. She gave me a flustered nod. Back off, bitch, I thought.
When I got home from work, Tim greeted me at the door with a kiss. I pulled away, but he leaned in to french me so deeply and passionately, I realized suddenly he was checking to see if my mouth tasted of Allen’s cum. No luck, I thought, for either of us. I noted Tim was still sporting an erection.
“We’ll need to change, Tim. We’re going someplace fancy.” I sashayed in, handing my purse and case to Tim to put away. I looked around, appreciating what I saw.
“You’ve cleaned,” I said, “It looks great. Thank you!”
There were flowers in a vase on the table.
“A gal could get used to this,” I said, and I gave him another kiss before going to change. I patted his erection playfully.
I drove us to the club. I was surprised to see Allen at the door to meet us.
I said, “Oh, you didn’t have to wait for us; we would have found you.”
Allen said, “I thought you knew. You can’t get inside without me. The Club is private.” He laughed as he took my arm and turned, leaving Tim one step behind us.
I looked up at the marquee — there wasn’t one. I hadn’t been here at night, but the place had minimal, nondescript lighting. The design was elegant, but completely without signage. The only parking was valet. There were windows, but no one could see inside. It could have been an office. Finally, I understood what kind of establishment this was. I’d never paid attention to anything but the hunk in front of me.
A private club! That’s why everyone seemed to know him. He was a dues-paying member. He probably insisted on Toni as his server, which is why she’s the only one I ever saw. I had thought it was just a quiet place with a tiny staff.
It was busier tonight, judging by the cars in the lot, and as we got inside, I still saw only a few people outside of staff. Like us, patrons (members) were probably escorted straight to the privacy of their booth through the labyrinth of wooden panels.
Indeed, it was Toni who greeted us, showed us to our booth. Did she work there all day, or was she paid by the table on demand? And what demands, I wondered. Was the Club a front for a high-end escort service? I wouldn’t think Sir needed to pay for sex though.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32