His eyes were fire.
That's the only way to describe it. Daniel's eyes were fire when he fucked me last night. Those eyes burned away all the insecurity of a lifetime just by looking at me. He consumed the sight of my figure like it was the best meal he'd ever had.
He was soft-spoken when I met him, with a kind smile and a gentle touch. I didn't know men like this really existed. Men who know how to cook, clean, and love. Men willing to look at their shortcomings and improve themselves constantly. An absolute gentleman.
In fact, I was concerned he might be too gentle. That he wouldn't know how to take charge.
Being proven wrong has never been more delightful.
From the moment he stripped naked, his curved muscles captured my submissive eyes.
I was intent on obeying him.
And trust me -- this man is a powerhouse in the bedroom. His fingers alone did things to me like I never could have imagined. He brushed my thigh, twisted my nipple, and rubbed my clitoris in just the right sequence to turn me into a puddle of the woman I once was.
After having sex with him for the first time, I decided that Daniel is in a class of his own.
It's no wonder we married. This tall, beautiful man with a good heart and just enough muscle to keep me down. Not that I'd ever want to get away from him. I doubt that another soul on the planet could make love to me like he does.
For the past three months, my new job took up all my time and energy. It's a high-paying corporate gig. Yet, despite having such an important position and a large corner office, I can't help feeling claustrophobic between those loveless walls -- surrounding by people desperate to steal my role in the company.
Getting used to the new position was draining. I wasn't in the headspace to make love to Daniel... until yesterday. When I came home with a small smile on my face.
"It seems like you've finally gotten into the swing of things," he said, toying with the remote control. His voice had that distinct baritone conviction that makes my body shiver with need. I couldn't wait to feel the thick, deep pressure of him inside me -- this man who makes me feel like a woman.
"So it seems I have."
We were playing that unspoken game where I try to remain composed and he forces me not to -- by breaking me down with those burning, elemental eyes.
He stood up, and gestured to follow him into the bedroom. When I'm that horny, it doesn't take much for my husband to become my Master.
He told me to strip.
I asked how much.
He said completely, so that's exactly what I did.
I loved the adoring way he looked at me as I revealed my naked body. I loved the way he held me, and bound me with rope, and made me his forever.
All those sensations are fresh in my memory as I drive home for Round Two.
I'm ready for him to dominate me again.
He told me he'd be waiting inside. I'm excited to see him in that incredible suit and tie. An outfit of formal, masculine authority.
But when I open the door, he's not there.
There's a woman in his place -- and not just any woman. She is easily the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. Cream-white high heels... soft, dark pantyhose... an alluring, dark red dress. The outfit is elegant, sexy, and glistening.
Maybe it's time for that threesome I've been begging for.
I don't know who she is. But I feel a strong desire to touch her. I imagine my hands sneaking up her skirt, groping her thighs and ass. Anything to make contact with this powerful feminine body that could bring billionaires to their knees. The thought makes my labia tight and my clitoris stiff. I'm jealous of her supreme beauty.
Since she's facing the other side of the room, I still haven't seen her face. She's paying no mind to me or my perverted gaze. You'd think I'm a man by how lustfully my eyes glaze up and down her pretty figure.
I should be upset that another woman is at my house, but I'm too busy admiring this Platonic ideal standing before me. She exudes an aura of glorious poise that transcends every standard of beauty. Her imposing height and broad shoulders add volume to her striking femininity.
She's big and strong enough to pin me down.
Wavy auburn hair cascades down her back like a waterfall. She smells like lemon and rosemary, and I only wish I could taste her.
She starts turning her head, and I feel my heart thumping at a thousand miles a second. When I see her face, I recognize her immediately.
She's not a friend of Daniel's. Nor is she his lover.
No fucking way.
She *is* Daniel.
It's the sort of thing that's impossible to process. I almost gasp. All the wet heat that was swirling between my thighs stops in its tracks.
There's no mistaking that sharp, bearded face. The realization makes my whole body recoil at this body that attracted me just moments ago. A million feelings flood my body at the sight of this paradox in front of me.
I'm confused, excited, and scared.
I'm alarmed. I'm nervous. I don't know who I am, or who I married.
All of those emotions -- that inner turbulence -- comes out in a laugh. A big, mean laugh that I can't say I'm proud of.
"Oh my God," I hear myself say. "What the hell are you wearing?"
"Is something funny?" he snaps.
The question steals my breath. All I can muster is an almost-silent "I'm sorry."
He ignores my apology and struts towards me in fluid, dangerous steps. I can tell by the effortless motion of his legs that it's not his first time wearing heels.
His eyes sparkle with power and grace as he towers above me.
"So what do you think?" he says.
I've been in my house for less than a minute, and I already feel like I've entered a new world. The man I thought I knew has transformed into someone else. He's strong and pretty, dominant and vulnerable, handsome and voluptuous. A multitude of contradictions all wrapped up in one person.
In his seductive figure, I see both a brawny man and a gorgeous woman -- each soiled by the other.
Both are alluring. Both are incomplete.
I want to make love to her. I want to submit to him. My brain can't process these competing desires. I'm so overwhelmed that I forget what he asked me.
"You have a problem with my femininity," he decides, pulling me back to attention. He speaks with razor-sharp confidence, like he couldn't possibly be wrong.
"Do you think the outfit makes me less strong? Less powerful?"
There's a wall of fear inside me, but I can't tell what it's protecting.
"Daniel, I -- "
"My name's not Daniel tonight," he explains. "It's Danielle... Mistress Danielle. The Queen of your desire."
Something about the way he says it makes my skin warm to the touch. I'm filled to the brim with lustful tingles.
"Follow me to the bedroom," he orders, turning around.
I walk down the hallway, two steps behind my husband who's dressed up like a wife. I catch my eyes trailing down his body again -- and I can't help but notice that he's very, very sexy. The fabric shimmies around his hips and shoulders with every womanly step he takes.
As strange as the situation is, I have to admit I'm flattered.
After painstakingly dolling myself up for men all my life, I finally found a man willing to do me the same favor. He made himself a present for my eyes, and did a damn good job with it.
That's a perk of being the breadwinner. Your spouse pretties himself up for you.
We arrive in the bedroom. The air simmers with possibility.
Now that the initial shock is over, my fear is finally crumbling. Thoughts are bubbling up in my mind that I've never had before.
He's so damn cute I want to tie him up.
Immediately after I think that, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. The dress fits tightly around his bulky body.
Outside, the sun is setting over the horizon. Its orange glow seeps in through the window, highlighting the gorgeous contours of Mistress Danielle. Her round, chiseled muscles are silent behind the feminine fabric.
I want to fuck him.
I want to feel him up and make him mine.
I'd think he were emasculated if it weren't for how deep and commanding his voice is when he says, "You're wearing far too many clothes, my dear. I want to see you naked. Now."
I'm slipping out of my work blouse, stripping myself clean of professionalism at long last. I feel lighter... freer...
The pants come off next, followed by my bra and panties. Now he's looking at me even more desiringly than I looked at him. I feel powerful in my nudity as he bites his lip, admiring my sexiness.
"You're perfect," he says matter-of-factly. "Absolutely perfect."
I smile, flattered by the loving words of my Man Queen.
