On the flight back to Chicago, I committed to never see or even talk to Talla again. While I didn't believe she really would have billed me for the vacation if I didn't do what she wanted, she tried to blackmail me. The more I thought about it, the more her power games felt like abuse. And the more worried I became that I liked being abused.
The moment we got home from the airport, Blake and I rushed into bed, literally dropping my luggage on the floor and pulling our clothes off as we ran. And I broke down into tears in the middle of love making. I confessed everything, including how I let the person I thought was Cesc fuck me. Even though he said he'd never divorce me, I spent the weekend nervously glancing at his angry, hurt face, waiting for him to change his mind. When we weren't fucking. Which we did almost constantly. It was never making love. Sometimes his anger came through. He spanked me. He fucked my ass hard.
Side note: I've discovered I love anal sex, but it will never make me come. I love how it makes me feel like a slut, like a cheap whore being used for Blake's pleasure. It's almost the fact that I can't come from it that makes me like it. Weird.
Three months later, we're still working through our feelings. I realized that what I loved, what made me go along with Talla's horrible ideas on the island, is that I love feeling overwhelmed by desire. To get so turned on, that I'm drugged by my own body. I didn't want another man, I wanted to be so lust-raddled that I couldn't say no to another man, despite being horrified at cheating. Blake realized that he loves that somewhere buried in his data scientist wife's head is an almost insatiable slut. A month ago, he confessed that sometimes the idea of Cesc fucking me turned him on.
New things:
Getting tied up with handkerchiefs. Not so much: getting tied up with ropes. I felt panicky when we used ropes, more than with handcuffs (which were uncomfortable).
Spankings. Just yes.
Public spankings. We're really cautious about this, having thought about the ethics of forcing our sex games onto other people. But ... I'm biting my lip just thinking about it.
Role playing I'm a woman he works with or picked up in a bar, and he's fucking her while I'm tied up next to them. Which is kind of complicated, since mentally I'm trying to be the jealous tied-up me, while physically, I'm trying to get off on getting fucked by a married guy whose wife is watching. I guess thats female cuckolding. Surely, there's a word for this, but I don't know it. I'm not sure if I want that to happen so I don't feel guilty about the island, or if I just want to be humiliated like that.
Lots of sex toys.
Then there was Slut night. Blake decided I needed to be punished for working late so much we'd only had sex twice that week. As he spanked me, he said, "Madeline, you've been so willful about putting your career ahead of your husband's cock, I don't think spankings will be enough." (To be clear, we both value my career and this was play.) "Get up and put on a skirt, with no panties. Wear a blouse that shows a lot of cleavage, and leave off the bra."
Ignoring the fact that I don't have a lot of cleavage to show, I put on a blouse with lots of folds that was slit down to the belly. In most circumstances, it looked respectable (and gorgeous!), but if I bent in the wrong (right?) way, it showed my bra. Or, tonight, the lack of it. Then I put on a black pencil skirt, blushing and smiling at the thought of going out so exposed.
"Not something so tight. Something you can spread your legs in. That length, though."
"Really?"
"Don't question me. You're being punished." Blake wasn't very good at this. He was smiling too much. I briefly thought of Talla. I knew I couldn't be her friend, but I missed her. I hid my face while I found a skirt for Blake's game.
Once I changed, he had me sit on the edge of the bed and blindfolded me, then tied my hands behind my back. He left me for a minute.
"Stick out your tongue," he said when he returned. I did.
He dripped honey onto my tongue. Then a splash of basaltic vinegar. Then a frozen grape.
"Did you bring a tray? And should I be naked if you're going to make a mess?" The blouse was one of Talla's gifts, worth more than $5,000. The skirt was a relative bargain at $1,700. If the IRS audited my wardrobe, I'd have to sell the condo to pay the tax bill.
"Shh ... tongue out."
Honey again. Then he put his cock on my tongue and pushed it into my mouth.
"Mmm."
He fucked my face, while I did my best to keep my teeth out of his way. With my hands tied, there wasn't much else I could do. Unlike Cesc, he never pushed deep into my throat.
