It was a warm mid November morning in central Florida, and Amy Marshall was making her way slowly through the lingerie section of a local store. As was often the case, Amy's husband was out of town on business for a few days, and Amy was left home to 'hold down the fort.'
Typically, the weeks when Brad was away on business were good weeks for Amy, weeks when she was free to let the slut in her run wild, weeks when she didn't have to invent reasons to be with Stuart Chambers, the 19 year-old boy who'd been dominating her life for about 2 and-a-half months now. This week promised to be no different.
It was a bit after noon when Amy returned home, entering the house through the garage door and making her way to the kitchen. She deposited the bags containing her 'take' for the day -- a new bra, a couple pairs of sexy panties, some nylons, a skirt and two tops -- on the center island, then moved towards the sink. That's when she saw the piece of paper lying on the counter.
She picked up the paper and unfolded it, then leaned back against the counter and started to read:
'You are to meet me at Murphy's tonight at 6:00 sharp. Your clothing for the evening is laid out in the bedroom. You are permitted to bring a purse, but other than that, you are to wear exactly what you find on the bed, absolutely nothing more, and absolutely nothing less. And make sure you park in the same spot.'
"Derek's home!" Amy gasped.
Derek was Amy's first master, the young man who first taught her the wonderful world of surrender and submission, the young man she served before Stuart, and the young man she'd never truly forget. After all, in a strange sort of way, Derek was her first. And as everyone knows, you never completely get over your first.
She didn't for a minute question that the unsigned note was from him. After all, not only was Murphy's the grill and bar Derek took her to when he first took control of her, he also had his own key to the house and had assured her he'd make it home at Thanksgiving. He just happened to be a few days earlier than she'd expected, that's all.
With the note still in her hand, she turned and hurried to the Master Bedroom, eager to see just how her master planned on displaying her that evening. Truthfully, she couldn't say she was surprised at what she saw, nor was she surprised at what she didn't see.
The first thing she noticed was the brown print wrap-around skirt which, while it wouldn't exactly qualify as a mini-skirt, did manage to leave several inches of her shapely thighs on display. Sitting to one side of the skirt was a pair of her sexiest white panties -- a very tiny pair. On the other side sat her favorite brown stiletto shoes, the ones with the open toe and dainty strap that wrapped around the ankle. On the far side of the bed lay a semi-sheer white-on-white sleeveless blouse with a straight cut waist that would just barely cover the top of her skirt. Conspicuously missing were nylons and bra, which meant her legs and pussy would be easily accessible to her master's hands, and her breasts and nipples, while not exactly on wide open display, would be far more exposed than was proper -- even by Amy's very loose standards. And a small shiver shot through her spine.
It wasn't until she was about to turn away from the bed that she saw the final piece of her attire, a small, remote control vibrating egg like the one Derek had first used on her, laying atop her pillow. The remote itself, however, was nowhere to be seen. And another shiver shot through her body as lowered herself to the bed.
* * *
Amy spent the rest of the afternoon moving anxiously about the house, trying just about anything to get her mind off of Derek and all the things he might do to her that evening. None of her attempts at distraction worked, however, and by the time she started getting ready it was all she could do to keep from ripping her clothes off and digging her fingers into her pussy.
She allowed extra time to get ready. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was keep the young man waiting. Even so, it was a couple minutes before 5:30 when she finally looked in the mirror and pronounced herself a complete and utter slut!'
By the time she backed the car out of the driveway it was 5:35, and by the time she approached the bar it was 5:55. Just enough time to park and fix her face. When she finally slid through the front door of Murphy's, the clock over the bar indicated 6:00 on the button.
Before the door could even close behind her, Amy's eyes were moving to the booth at the back of the bar. She could see that the booth was occupied by one lone man, but set in the shadows as he was and facing away from the door, she couldn't make out his face.
"Party of one?" the young waitress by the door asked, breaking her train of thought.
Amy turned her head towards the young woman, keeping her body at an angle and her purse strategically placed in hopes of not drawing too much attention to her state of dress. "I'm supposed to meet someone," she replied, noting that it wasn't the same waitress that waited on them the first time. She wondered if that was good or bad.
"Oh, yes," the waitress replied. "I believe your party is already here. He insisted on the large booth in the back." Then she dropped her eyes to take in Amy's attire. "If you'll just follow me," she said, shaking her head slightly from side to side.
When the waitress turned and started towards the back, Amy took one long, deep breath to calm her nerves. "Here goes," she whispered under her breath. And then she started after the young woman. She hadn't taken two steps when the figure in the back booth turned to face her for the first time.
"Oh, my God," Amy gasped, a mere second before the vibrating egg in her pussy jumped suddenly to life.
* * *
Seeing the look on his wife's face when she suddenly realized that it wasn't Derek she was meeting, but her own husband, and seeing her body react when he turned the vibrating egg on high brought a wicked little smile to Brad Marshall's face. But it was a smile that quickly disappeared. After all, all those weeks of stress and grief could not be assuaged quite so easily. No, that would take some time, and the night was still young.
It had been late summer or early fall when Derek first began sensing that something in Amy's world had changed. At first it was just a feeling, an instinct, a gnawing in the pit of his stomach telling him that something wasn't right, that something was different. But it wasn't until after the seed was firmly planted in his mind that he actually started noticing specifics, like her hushed voice while talking on the phone, or her comings and goings at unusual hours with what at best would be described as flimsy explanations. And for the first time in their relationship, Brad began to wonder if he wasn't on the verge of losing her.
Once he recovered from his original fear, he began taking a closer look at their relationship, and the closer he looked, the more he wondered how they'd managed to keep it together as long as they had. After all, he had a preference for men and didn't hesitate to pursue that preference on his many business trips, while his wife definitely had a bit of 'tramp' in her and had never willingly denied herself the pleasures of the body.
But that was only part of it. What made their relationship even stranger -- in his mind, at least -- was the fact that they never, ever addressed the subject with each other, even though he had very little doubt that she knew as much about his secret life as he knew about hers. But suddenly, it was beginning to look like maybe that wasn't such a good foundation for a marriage after all.
