Michelle poses in front of the bedroom mirror, putting the final touches to her preparations while waiting for her man. Immaculately made up with a subtle dab of fragrance, gold hoops piercing her earlobes, a matching necklace around her elegant neck and a wide gold wedding band, manicured nails - simply red.
For all that she is gorgeous, Michelle sometimes lacks body confidence, emotionally unprepared for middle age. Hence the ensemble, a bustier emphasises an enviably slim waist and supports provocatively bared breasts. Tiny knickers bisect what her husband endearingly terms 'a delectable bum'. Michelle's short hair is artfully coloured and highlighted, and shoes, lingerie and stockings - must ensure the seams are straight - uniformly black. Her toned upper arms are covered by glittery top, open at the front and leaving nothing to the imagination. Each exposed nipple is pinched by a small clamp and linked to its counterpart with a slender chain - torment or ornament? - fixed wincingly in place only minutes before. Michelle's libido nags insistently, vivid fantasies running wild.
Their arrangement is simple: dress for the occasion and bring a single sex toy; hers ostensibly the nipple clamps, although, unknown to Paul, her husband, Michelle has broken this pact. She shivers with excitement at the thought of him discovering this transgression and what punishment might follow.
Reflected in the mirror, he enters the room behind her, a handsome man, clad in a smartly cut suit and crisply knotted tie, rather like a 1950s film star. Think perhaps, as Michelle often does during sensual imaginings, of Cary Grant. Paul holds a riding crop, long a favourite toy of Michelle, a woman to whom submission in the bedroom - and only in the bedroom - is second nature. The nipple clamps however are a new addition to their erotic play, the idea entirely her own.
"Breathtaking," observes Paul, approvingly, entranced by her outfit. "Please step back and let me enjoy a longer look." Flattered by his praise, Michelle complies, twirling on the spot. "Marvellous," enthuses her husband, "there's no rush. I want us to appreciate this encounter fully. You've obviously gone to a lot of trouble to make it memorable."
"For both of us," she whispers seductively. Able to sublimate her nervousness thus far, the moment of truth has arrived and with it an exciting element of jeopardy and real or imagined danger. Paul's good fortune is to enjoy a temptress, orchestrator and ingenue, all in one. He draws a finger lightly over her jawline, tilts her face and stares intently into Michelle's sparkling eyes. His kiss is lingering, her response instinctive, cupping his jaw with manicured hands, plunging her tongue between his lips. Paul's arms encircle her, one unmistakably male hand on the nape of Michelle's slender neck, the other on the small of her back.
"You're so beautiful, so incredibly sexy," he murmurs. "Bedroom, now," Paul continues in a no-nonsense tone, confident that where he leads, she will follow. Gently tugging the slender chain tethering her beautiful breasts he leads his wife across the room. With no option but to follow, Michelle endeavours not to stumble in her high heels, hips swaying enticingly, hands outstretched for balance. Entranced at this sudden pivot to dominance she nervously submits as Paul embraces her again, his rock-hard erection pressing hard against her lower torso.
"Judging by your outfit, I assume you'd like me to concentrate on your boobs?" A rhetorical question. Michelle looks at him expectantly and nods in affirmation.
"I think you know full well how I like to be treated," she replies.
Paul squeezes Michelle's bare breasts, brushing her engorged nipples. Gently pulls again at the chain, exerting pressure on the tender nubs. A pink flush creeps across Michelle's upper chest, the torment threatens to become unendurable. Observing her teeter on the brink of distress, Paul carefully removes the clips, the sharp pain quickly transmuting into an intense sexual craving.
He softly sucks each nipple in turn, flicking his tongue over the moist buds while Michelle, panting, fingers tangled in his hair, offers no resistance. Paul takes each engorged nipple between his forefingers and thumbs and rolls them back and forth, deep moans encouraging him further. Shocks Michelle by suddenly slapping her breasts, first right, then left. Boobs smarting, arousal surging, she'll obey any demand Paul makes. Michelle looks down at her breasts, observing the red finger marks with wonder.
"Is this how you imagined today would go?" he enquires quietly.
"It's what I hoped," she confirms.
"Do you do this when alone?" Paul enquires, erection stiffening at the thought.
"I like to fondle my tits and twist the nipples - they're so sensitive I get off very easily, especially if I dildo my kitty at the same time. Please don't stop what you're going, it's sublime, suck my boobs and finger fuck my pussy, I need to come."
Paul's hand moves between her legs, rubbing her clit and forcing two fingers inside Michelle's love-juice-slippery slot; separates her labia and slowly pumps them in and out, driving her mad with desire, both completely immersed in the moment.
He crouches, tongue darting into her sticky quim, an indecently intimate invasion. Overcome with sensation, Michelle loses control; back arching, shaking and whimpering, she comes violently, her entire body shaking as Paul fingers her to orgasm.
