The First Affair

He'd asked her to come to him, under the guise of giving him decorating advice. She'd come before, sometimes at her suggestion, sometimes at his. Almost always under one pretence or another. But it was part of their game. She'd made it clear in the past that she wouldn't say no. That the ball was firmly and permanently in his court. But he'd always been strong, resisted the temptation. He'd admired her for some time, lusted after her, but there were two marriages at stake. Not to mention his friendship with her husband, and hers with his wife. He'd reasoned himself out of crossing the line every time before this day. He liked what they had and didn't want their relationship with each other, or their partners, to change. But as he watched her walk up the front path towards him, he could feel something about today was different.

The spring weather had finally kicked in and she celebrated the warmth of the day with a floral dress. Though modest, the dress was more revealing than he'd see her wear before. Sitting mid-thigh, it had thin adjustable straps and a low cut and ruffled neckline. Her body was curvy, but strong; soft in the right places, and filled out that dress like no-one else could. The gentle breeze played at the dress' hem as she walked, showing glimpses of her smooth tanned upper leg. He knew that she thought of herself as plain, as not much to look at. Her brown hair was long and fell is soft waves down her back and framed her face Her heritage showed in the olive tone of her skin, with her rosy cheeks and full lips rounding off her beauty. But for him, it had always been her eyes. Her big, brown doe eyes were her most beautiful feature, especially when she smiled and they lit up and crinkled just a little at the corners.

He admired her body and the way the dress moved with her as she approached him. He welcomed her in with a hug and kiss on the cheek as usual. But he let his hand linger on her lower back just a fraction longer than he probably should. As he pulled away he wondered if she noticed. Her face gave nothing away and he moved towards the kitchen to make coffee. She dropped her bag by the front door and followed him. He could feel her eyes on his back and he wondered what she was thinking. Sitting in her usual seat at the counter they made small talk while he made their coffee, checking in and updating each other on their lives. As she sat on the stool chatting about her own home renovations, she leaned slightly forward offering him a perfect view of her ample cleavage. She wasn't wearing a bra and he found himself wondering what kind of underwear she had on. Was it something sensible and comfortable, or something a little more exciting? Was she even wearing underwear at all?

Her soft laugh brought him back but the look in her slightly narrowed eyes was, for once, unreadable. He realised then that she had asked him a question, but he'd been so caught up in his musings that he hadn't noticed. But she'd definitely noticed him staring at her breasts. She sat up straight and they both ignored his lapse. He gave her her cup, and without warning or invitation she took her coffee to the lounge room. He followed her. She sat on the large couch, tucking her legs underneath herself as she sat. Her dress falling a little to one side, he again caught just a glimpse of her upper thigh. If only her dress had slipped a little further he'd know the answer to his recent musings.

"So, exactly what type of decorating do you want advice on?" She asked, repeating the earlier question he hadn't heard.

"I want to change the guest room. It's too small to fit more than the bed and side table in there. We can't do anything else with the room, and I'm hoping for a more practical way of using it as a guest room without it feeling so crowded."

"We'll go have a look after our coffee is done."

As their conversation flowed, she occasionally touched his arm. It was her innocent way of connecting with him, of showing him she was there. She meant nothing by it, but today her touch sent electricity through him, into his core and he had to use everything he had to resist reaching out for her. She then said something unexpected, something that told him today was definitely the day. Today would be the day he gave in to her.

Her husband was away for work, he'd left yesterday. For two weeks. That in itself wasn't really news, he was aware of the trip. But the next words from her mouth threw him for six. "At least if I get any strange marks or bruises I won't have to explain myself. They'll definitely heal before he gets back." He waited, but she said no more.

Strange marks or bruises. They'd come together in their mutual desire for BDSM. Neither her husband nor his wife had any interest in experimenting, despite both of them trying with their respective partners. Though their relationship remained entirely platonic they "played" together. It was their game, their secret indulgence. Her willingness to come to him every time. He'd started slow, eased her into it. But she'd been willing, excited even, to share this desire with him. Now every time she visited he would choke her, use his strong arms to restrict her breath until she passed out. Sometimes she'd let him tie her up and they'd experiment with breath play. At his asking, his instance, always platonic. And at her asking, he never left her marked in any way. No marks meant no awkward questions. Sometimes he felt guilty and wondered if they should stop. But she always came back and was always so willing to submit to him. It was an outlet for them both, a stress reliever of sorts, and neither of them wanted to stop. So they continued with their games, enjoying the dominance and submission and the secret they shared.

But she'd made it clear that if he dared, if he ever changed his mind, she wanted to take it all the way. They'd discussed their fantasies. He'd told himself they were good friends, and fantasies were something that good friends talked about. He knew what she wanted. She wanted pain, wanted to feel powerless and vulnerable, wanted to hurt while her body shuddered with pleasure.

She placed her coffee cup on the table, and leaned forward on on the couch to scratch her ankle, exposing her neck at the most delicate angle. And he couldn't resist. In a swift motion he was behind her, one arm around her neck the other holding the back of her head. He squeezed. Her breath drew in quickly and for a brief moment she stiffened as if to struggle and her hand gripped his arm. But then like always, she gave in, and in response came the heaviness of her body against his as he rendered her unconscious.

***

He had taken her by surprise. Usually he asked her if she wanted to be choked, and though her answer had always been yes, he had never acted without her permission. She liked this new sensation, the feeling of helplessness as his strong arm tightened around her throat restricting her breath. There was always a little hesitation and it likely showed in her body. She knew that if she tapped him he would release her. And though her hand always moved to his arm she had never stopped him.

Now, as she slowly came to she could feel her body resting against him. They were still on the couch, but he had moved so he was behind her, legs around her and arms holding her so her head rested on his shoulder to remain in a safe breathing position. He was always careful with her, and she trusted him fully.

He was fit and had strength; his muscles well formed. He was tall and she liked the way their bodies fit together when they hugged. Today he was wearing summer shorts and a tight t-shirt that showed of his toned physique. He'd recently let his five o'clock shadow progress and his rough, grey-tinged beard suited him. Combined with his strong jawline and shoulder-length hair he was ruggedly handsome. His past made him cautious and he had scars, both physically and emotionally. His physical scars added to his strong features, making him even more handsome. And though he put on a tough exterior, she'd given him a safe place within her for him to be soft, and she relished the trust he put in her. His green eyes were flecked with hazel and if she had to pick one word to sum him up, it would be 'warrior'. She knew that he worried about their games affecting their respective relationships. And while she respected him and his wishes, she'd always had a thing for him and it only intensified when they started their game, though she was positive she was successful in hiding the strength of her feelings.

As her senses fully returned she became aware that her dress was exposing her left leg all the way up to her hip. Her lilac lace underwear was visible. She also had a warm sensation across her breasts, as if his touch lingered there. Surely though, he wouldn't have deliberately exposed her, touched her without her consent. Would he? He was always so adamant that they remain only friends, albeit with the secret they shared between them. She had certainly teased, tempted even, but he always remained stedfast in his conviction. She admired his strength, though it frustrated her that he wouldn't give her what she wanted, even just once. The realisation that he had full control over her while she was unconscious wasn't new, but the thought of what he might actually do while she was blacked out sent a thrill through her body that made her visibly shudder.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She reassured him with a small smile and said, "Yes. Just a little chill is all."

His green eyes showed worry. Or was it doubt? She returned his gaze and repeated his question.

"Are you alright?"

He didn't answer immediately and her brow furrowed with concern. Maybe he thought he'd crossed a line and she would be mad at him. Finally, he said "I'm sorry. Your throat was just... And then I was there before I thought about it."

She smiled. "I didn't mind. I was surprised, but I liked the feeling of all control being taken away so unexpectedly." Her words were meant to reassure him, but she wasn't certain that they'd had that effect. She couldn't quite get a read on him and it was making her nervous.

Suddenly he wiggled out from behind her and stood, then turned and reached for her. She gave him her hand and he pulled her from the couch. She stumbled just a little, and as he caught her they were pressed together. She wasn't sure if she was imagining a slight hardness to him. Before she had much time to dwell on it he had spun her around so that her back was pressed hard against his front. She knew then that she was not imagining his hardness. It was there resting against the small of her back. Again his arm found his way around her neck and she arched just a little to give him full access, and a slight moan escaped her lips. His muscles tightened and her hand found his arm. Just as the edges of her visions started to blacken and the blood rang through her ears she thought she heard him speak. As the darkness found her she wondered if it had been her imagination, the start of her unconscious dreams, or if he'd really said "Today, I give in".

***

He waited for her to wake. It always surprised him how quickly she passed out. She gave into it so swiftly and it pleased him when her body relaxed against him. Sometimes he touched her breasts as she slept. He always felt guilty, but what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. He didn't want to give her false hope, and the occasional sneaky grope helped him resist her. He liked the way she pressed into him as she woke. This time though he didn't trust himself to be so close to her when she came to. He had propped her head on cushions from the couch. He stayed near enough to her to keep check on her breathing, but as soon as she began to regain consciousness he moved away so he was sitting next to her without any body contact.

The difference in waking without his touch was noticeable to her and she came around more swiftly than usual. Noticing she was not in his arms, her eyes opened quickly as her hands sought him. He said her name to reassure her he was there, and though she relaxed slightly she remained confused as to why he wasn't with her as he usually was. Before she could question him, he said "I'll get you some water" and left the room. He needed to regain his composure. When she had admitted that she'd liked that he took control of her he became aroused in spite of himself. He was sure she felt him as he pulled her in to choke her the second time. Even though he'd already admitted to himself that today was the day they took their game all the way, he needed to remain fully in control.

With the water in hand he returned to the lounge. She had moved to sit with her back against the couch, one leg straight the other bent underneath, her dress only just covering her modesty. He gave her the glass and admired her body once again. While their play to this point had never crossed the line, he had a small box of items he wanted to share with her. He'd never mentioned it because the contents were not what platonic friendships were made of. Nipple clamps, blindfolds, bonds, other toys. Granted she'd seen the bonds before when she had allowed herself to be tired up. But he'd taken them out of the box before her arrival, so the box itself, and its other contents remained unknown to her. Especially his newest addition. Chloroform. A friend of a friend had gotten some for him and he was desperate to try it out. It was the ultimate control. He had been toying with the idea of approaching her, to talk her into letting him experiment. He was sure he could convince her it would be just like him choking her only with a chemical. But now he wanted to use it in a somewhat more depraved manner.

She looked content. She always did after he'd chocked her. However, her face changed when he said "Let's check out the guest room." A range of emotions passed over her face quickly but he read them all; disappointment, wonder, hope and then resignation as she realised their play was done for the day, and he really did want some decorating advice. He supposed she always hoped that he would change his mind and give in to her. He helped her up from the ground and she thanked him. She let go of his hand quickly and made motion for him to lead the way.

He took her down the hall and into the room. The small box of his toys was in the wardrobe, hidden amongst the household 'junk pile'. It was inconspicuous and he doubted his wife would ever accidentally find it. But he would be able to access it easily enough. He entered the small room first and she stood just inside the door and began asking questions he imagined would be typical for a decorator. While he answered, he dug out the box. She realised he wasn't fully paying attention and stopped speaking to watch him. He didn't notice her silence immediately and when he turned with the box in his hands he was met with her curious stare. For a moment he got lost in her eyes. Then a mischievous smiled crossed his lips making her eyes widen and eyebrows rise.

"There's something I want to try" he said.

Her eyes shifted from his down to the box in his hands. Her eyebrows raised higher though she didn't give voice to her question.

He put the box on the bed and turned back to face her. She'd moved to him so silently that he was genuinely startled to be so close to her so unexpectedly. He could feel the warmth coming from her body, her scent reaching him and reminding him of a warm summer day in the woods, and he became aroused again. In an attempt to distract her from looking anywhere but his eyes and noticing his sudden erection, he reached out and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. She remained looking up at him, smiled and said "Show me".

He took the lid off the box at an angle so she couldn't quite see in, an removed the chloroform and a rag. He didn't want to give away his game just yet, just in case she'd changed her mind about what she desired from him. He doubted it; she wasn't quite as subtle about her feelings as she probably thought she was, but it was dangerous to presume she still wanted him. He replaced the lid and moved the box to the foot of the bed.

Turning to her again he held up the bottle and the rag. As she read the label her eyes couldn't hide her surprise. She looked at him and said "Really?". All he could do was nod. His voice felt thick in his throat, his mind ready to pass it off as a joke. He was suddenly sure she would say no and this would be the end of their games. She moved a fraction closer and took the bottle from him.

She asked "Do you know what it will feel like?" She was standing unbearably close now and he was certain she would notice his hardness. He could see the tiny freckles that dotted her face which were not usually noticeable, but became unmissable at this close range. He realised he hadn't answered her question.

"It's sweet, the taste as you breath in. Your instinct will be to struggle, like when I choke you, but as always I'll stop if you tap me. It takes a little time. Breathe deep though and you'll start feeling light-headed, maybe dizzy. It feels like falling asleep only it will last longer. It will take a few minutes to fully come to, you might even feel groggy and a bit confused. But it will wear off quickly enough."

He could see her processing all this and for the second time today the look in her eyes was unreadable. Again, he was ready to retreat, to make excuses and play it off as a silly idea. She handed the bottle back to him and simply said "I trust you."

In that moment he was overwhelmed with lust. She was so close, smelled so good, looked so beautiful. At hearing her say those three words again, his desire overtook him. He dropped the bottle and rag on the bed, and leaned down to her snaking his arm around her waist. He pulled her in and kissed her. She melted into him and kissed him back without hesitation. His fingers in her hair, he pulled her in closer and the passion between them was undeniable and the heat was almost unbearable. Their bodies fit so well together and he kissed her harder. Her return kiss was full of the same intensity, the same passion. She was moving her arms around him, her fingers digging into his back. As she pressed her body to his he knew she felt him and as her kiss intensified he was tempted to take her right now; lifting her dress and plowing into her.

But his plan was important. While he knew she'd be happy to be with him here and now, he wanted her to have an experience. Wanted her to know her desires mattered, that he had heard her. He pulled away from her then and they both gasped for breath. Her eyes had darkened, filled with longing and arousal. For a moment, he held her face in his hands, tracing her lips with his thumb and revelled in her beauty. Then he released her and reached for the chloroform. She stood for a moment catching her breath, then turned, sat on the edge of the bed, and waited.

She watched him as he removed the lid carefully from the bottle and poured the liquid onto the rag. He put the lid back on tight and moved to the other side of the bed to place the bottle on the table. Her gaze followed him around the room, but faced forward again when he approached her from the other side of the bed, coming up behind her.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded and leaned into him to show she was ready. He pressed the rag hard to her face, covering her nose and mouth. She breathed sharply and started to pull away but he kept the rag pressed to her face. Her hand gripped his arm hard and she squeezed. He softened his hold but she groaned and pulled his hand in harder. He could see her chest rising and falling as she took full breaths to inhale the chemical soaked rag. She groaned again and pressed herself into him, her nails slightly digging into the skin of his forearm. His arousal grew and suddenly she went limp, falling against him fully unconscious. Again, as with chocking her, he was surprised how quickly she passed out. He took a moment to admire her, then got to work.