My planning was meticulous. It had to be, of course, if I were to get away with it. I read up on female psychology, tested a range of equipment, and plotted possible eventualities in every detail. That things didn't turn out quite as expected is undeniable, but I don't think lack of preparation was the cause.
The day began as usual. I woke around 7am with my wife Laura curled around me. Laura is beautiful. Long dark hair, smiling eyes, a modest demeanour, and the sexiest legs I've ever seen. Her head was on my chest, and she was sleeping contentedly.
I gently disengaged myself, made some strong coffee, and as I sat sipping it, asked myself one last time whether I wanted to go through with the plan. I was a very lucky man to have such a captivating wife, and there were risks that this would change our relationship forever. But as my head filled with the exhilarating images of what was to come that evening, all doubts flew away.
***
Later that day, around mid-morning, Laura phoned me at work. Her voice was warm but intrigued.
"Hello sweetie" she said. "I found a curious note on my pillow this morning, with a red rose."
"Ah yes," I replied, feigning nonchalance, "And what did the note say?"
"It tells me to go to the Hilton at 8pm tonight, for a new experience. ... I hope it's nothing I wouldn't like..." There was a smile in her voice, but also a touch of trepidation, I was pleased to note.
"Better be there, then." I said cheekily, and hung up.
***
At 8pm, she entered the foyer of the hotel. I watched her. She wore black stilettos, sheer black stockings, a long black skirt that swirled as she walked, a red silk shirt open at the collar, and a pearl necklace. Her hair was loose, flowing down her back. Always elegant, tonight she looked especially stunning.
Her eyes met mine, and twinkled in anticipation of the unknown. She had no idea what was coming, and that made the encounter exciting for us both. Maybe she thought it was just a special meal.
As I greeted her, I breathed her subtle French perfume, and began to wonder again if she would ever talk to me again after this evening.
I guided her to the restaurant, where we had oysters and champagne to start, asparagus and truffles to follow. Unoriginal, I know, but the old ways are sometimes the best. I plied her with wine, and the conversation flowed with wit and passion.
So when I explained that we would have dessert upstairs, she wasn't surprised. She looked at me with a coy smile. "This wouldn't be a 'Nine-and-a-half weeks' dessert, would it?" The colour rose in her cheeks, slightly. Quite a demure lady, Laura. Little did she know that eating strawberries blindfolded was the least of it.
"Ah, you'll have to see." I replied, with a grin. And she blushed further, but at the same time flicking her hair to show she was game for a little fun.
"I just hope you're in the mood for some stimulation." I added. She stroked her pearls, and I noticed another button of her shirt slipped open.
***
I led the way to the room. In the lift, she gripped my hand, nibbled my earlobe, rubbed my back affectionately, and gazed up me with captivating eyes. Laura was clearly in the mood.
I'd spent half-an-hour earlier in the evening setting up the room. Soft lighting, romantic music, champagne on ice, fresh strawberries and cream waiting. I led her to the bed and sat her down, against the headboard. I produced a blindfold. Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled.
"I knew this was the surprise!" she said. I put the blindfold on her, and began to feed her. The sight of the soft red fruit topped with white cream entering her ruby lips was a definite turn on for me, and I could sense by her quickening pulse that she was enjoying this too.
I licked a spot of cream left behind on her lips, and she shivered in pleasure.
"Now comes something more..." I said. This point contained the most risk. If she baulked at this stage, all the planning was for nothing. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
I reached under the bed, retrieved the handcuffs that were already attached to the bedpost, and clicked them on her left wrist.
"Wh... what?" she said, startled.
"Trust me" I said, as calmly as I could, given my arousal. "You'll like it." At the same time, I clicked her right wrist with the second pair of handcuffs attached to the other bedpost. I fed her another strawberry, and she quivered in anticipation.
"You like this, don't you?" I said silkily.
There was a pause, while she struggled to overcome her natural modesty, and her disbelief that I could be doing this to her, and then she gasped "Yes".
That was all I need to know.
I pulled her flat on her back, her arms stretched above her head. I kissed her roughly, and tore open her red silk shirt, to reveal a lacy black bra. She gasped again. "I can do anything I want to you, can't I?" I said.
She struggled against the handcuffs, and her beautiful legs writhed.
"Yes" she said, breathily.
I stroked the top of her breast with my hand. Her skin felt electric to the touch.
I unzipped my trousers, and placed my cock between her breasts. Her breath caught. She was worried I was going to make her suck me, because she didn't want me to cum in her mouth.
"You're going to suck my cock." I said, calmly.
"No!"
"Oh yes" and I moved my cock to her lips. They remained resolutely shut. I slipped my hand inside her bra and pinched her nipple. She cried out. Again I moved my cock to her lips, and this time she reluctantly opened up.
