I hurried home from work one afternoon, so I could be sure and beat my wife home. Once there, I made a few quick preparations then changed into clothes a little more appropriate for what I had planned. Keeping an eye on the back yard, I waited for Michelle to get home.
Eventually, I heard the garage door open and saw her come up the rear sidewalk. Standing in the kitchen, I waited for the back door to open.
When Michelle opened the door, she took one step into the kitchen before she looked up and saw me standing there. What she saw must have surprised her, because she stopped short and stared at the sight before her. A look of lust entered her eyes as she took in what I was wearing. I'd changed into black jeans, black boots, a black silk shirt, and I'd let my hair out of the ponytail I usually kept it in, (for convenience's sake,) so my greying hair fell down past my shoulders. Just by the outfit, I knew Michelle figured something good was awaiting her.
I saw my wife's weight shift, and could tell she was planning to come into the house and probably kiss me. That, however, was *not* part of the plan.
"Did I say that girls were allowed to wear clothes into My house?"
Michelle heard this, and stopped once again. I saw the flicker of understanding on her face as to how this was going to be played. Her lust-filled eyes quickly dropped to the floor, and she said quietly, "No, Sir."
I had to maintain my role now, something I've had trouble doing before. I'm usually much more easy-going, not so demanding, even when we've done the D/s thing in the past. Tonight, though, I was determined to be firm.
"Well then, girl, get out of My house and remedy that."
Lust turned to anxiety, and Michelle looked around, afraid that someone might see. That's where I had to start asserting myself more.
"Don't concern yourself with whether you'll be seen. If you don't strip right now, you can stay the night out there on the back porch. Sluts don't give a damn what the neighbors think, they just do as they're told. Now strip, slut."
The look of lust re-entered her face, followed by a swift acknowledgement of her position, followed again by submission. Slowly, Michelle put down her purse and reached for the buttons on her blouse. One by one she unfastened her top, displaying more and more of her body to me. She'd worn a plain, boring, white bra, with very little interest to it but its filling.
Once more she started to glance to either side as she reached back to unhook the bra.
"Don't worry about the neighbors. You're not stripping for them. Now let's see those tits." She let out a big breath and released her wonderful breasts from their captivity.
Michelle stood there, topless, on our back porch, eyes downcast in a perfectly submissive pose, hands crossed behind her.
"Are you going to stand out there all night like that? You aren't coming in My house unless you're wearing absolutely nothing." I had all the time in the world. It's easy to be cocky when you're not the self-conscious one baring yourself to - potentially - the entire neighborhood.
Slowly, Michelle unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall to the ground. Now all she was wearing were her shoes - no hose, thank god - and a pair of boring white panties. (Ever notice how sometimes plain cotton panties can be a real turn-on and sometimes they are the dullest thing created? Bizarre.) I thought to myself, 'We're going to have to go through your underwear drawer and see about getting you some more interesting lingerie, girl.'
My wife hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down to the floor to join her skirt. Now she was naked. Her bush was now exposed, her tits were on display, and I could see the blush start at her upper chest and noticed it extended nearly to her eyebrows. She stepped out from the puddle of clothes at her feet, then started to kick off her shoes. She'd worn some nice medium-height heel shoes to work today, and I thought, 'what the hell.'
"Leave the shoes on, slut. I like the idea that you were so excited to play that you forgot to remove them.
"You are now appropriately attired. You may now enter My house." Michelle bent over to pick up the stuff she'd let fall to the floor of the porch, so she could carry it inside. "No, slave, leave that there. It's not going anywhere." She hesitated, then straightened and stepped through the door.
I love watching naked women move. Even women who are very confident in themselves while clothed seem to move almost apologetically when that armor is removed. That near-submissive posture just gets me tingling. Michelle gingerly stepped into the kitchen, head bowed, hands crossed in front of her. She stopped just inside the door, and waited for me to tell her what to do next. Her face shot up in surprise when she saw a flash and heard the camera shutter working. Yes, I'd taken her picture. She forgot the digital camera I'd bought just before our last vacation. Apparently she never thought I'd want pictures of her nude, such is her image of herself. If only she understood how cock-stiffeningly sexy she looked at that moment...
