*** DISCLAIMER: This is an erotic anecdote. It is about people getting what they want (laid). It is NOT (necessarily) about anyone getting what they deserve. Some of my stories may involve infidelity, immorality, poor impulse control, and general horniness. I hope you will find it entertaining, salacious, and maybe even scandalous; but you are not guaranteed to find it wholesome or personally vindicating. This is a generally applicable disclaimer, not based closely on the story's contents and certainly not meant to scare anyone off. But if someone (somehow) stumbles upon this in search of a revenge fantasy, fable, or anything other than smut, I only wish to save them the trouble of becoming disappointed. For everyone who comes in search of entertainment only, please read on and I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did!***
I've been dying to write something about this one since it happened, but haven't had the time or energy to devote. And besides, I try to honor a reasonably strict lag-time rule. When this story begins, I'd been carrying on a certain affair for a little more than a year.
Actually, that makes it sound a lot more serious than it really was. It was sporadic, at best. We met when we both felt in the mood and, more challengingly, when circumstances permitted us to do so discreetly. Ultimately, my husband's schedule dictated the pace of the affair more than anything. He (we'll call him "Charlie") travels for work, but inconsistently, and there are long-ish stretches when he doesn't. This doesn't leave me without options; I work remotely with a flexible schedule, and can usually sneak one in during the workday if I really want to, but that always makes me nervous.
Even when we had a window, I didn't pursue the affair with any real sense of obligation or commitment; it was when I felt like it, and only then. I was by no means trying to replace my husband, and my boytoy who we'll call "Bob" isn't someone I was hugely compatible with on a social level. This suited him fine, generally, and he made no secret of the fact that I wasn't the only woman I was seeing.
With all that said, I could tell it still bothered him to have our meet-ups dictated by my husband. He was attractive, big, and came from money; used to getting what he wanted. On a realistic level I know he understands that there are hoops to jump through when you pursue a married woman, and he was willing and eager. But still; being told 'no' on account of a man he barely knew, and whose wife he was sleeping with no less, was something he never quite got used to. Not that he ever tried to do more than grumble about it; the sex is outstanding and he neither is, nor strives to be husband material. So he takes what he can get, when he can, and grumbles when he has to.
Still, one of the things I liked about him was that he wasn't averse to a real date or special occasion now and then, and he wasn't too shabby at it either; he could be imaginative, generous, and affectionate in all the right places when he took the trouble. A month ago he'd even gotten me a gift; a beautiful silver bracelet. I had to hide it and wear it with care, but I was still flattered and a little impressed by his taste. I wonder whether he was trying to butter me up because his birthday was coming up.
We'd talked about doing something, but had the usual doubts about scheduling. But I was as eager as he was to find a way to celebrate it. Even a little gesture. I resolved to find a way to set time aside just for him. To completely ensure the lack of any interruptions or risk. I just had to find a completely safe and reliable way to keep Charlie occupied.
And I found one. About two and a half weeks in advance, I planted the seed in my husband's mind.
We were watching porn together (we sometimes do; we have a reasonably active sex life and it's a fun way to get excited and get ideas and other things flowing). When it was my turn, I put on a video of a woman in leather controlling her man. I made a show out of browsing and selecting it, as if I'd just discovered it and selected it on a whim. His hands cuffed to the bedframe, she slapped him, suffocated him between her breasts, sat on his face, and finally mounted him. I knew it would excite Charlie at least as much as it did me, if not far more so, and certainly catch his interest. "Well well well," he said with an appraising laugh in his voice. "Someone's feeling a little wild."
I didn't have to fake my face turning red. "Hmm. Looks like that makes one of us." I retorted with a mocking sweetness in my voice. Taking the hint, he seized me and we had good, and just slightly rougher than usual, sex. Halfway through, I remembered my mission, and rolled him off of me and onto his back, mounting him. Being on top isn't usually my favorite, nor is being rough, but I made a good sporting show of it, and my hands were around his neck as he came.
Like clockwork, a week later, he asked if I might like to tie him to the bed. I told him I'd think about it. The next day, I told him I would like to try that. But a brief search reminded us that we didn't have anything good to tie him with. I told him I'd grab some cuffs or something when I got the chance. I forgot to once or twice, but another week later, I got around to it. As it worked out, this was (not that Charlie knew it), the day of Bob's birthday. Go figure. I'd told Bob I'd do whatever I could to make sure I could spend the evening with him. His text back was hopeful, but clearly less than optimistic. If only he knew how resourceful I could be...
I greeted my husband at the door in my sexiest black lingerie. It was no porn-tastic dominatrix outfit, but it would do. I gave him a smooch and whispered in his ear "I have a surprise for you. Come meet me in the bedroom." That said, he didn't look entirely shocked to see the ropes hitched around the bedposts. Oh well, I thought; he'll have time to be surprised soon enough. Unprompted, he jumped backward into the bed, and began unbuttoning his shirt, a grin on his face. In the most imperious voice I could manage, I said "Mmm, you know exactly where you belong, don't you?".
"You know, I think so," he said, "but maybe you'd better show me anyway just to make sure."
I slapped him, hard, and gripped him by the jaw as I hissed "THAT was me going easy on you. There will not be a second time. If you mouth off to me again, I'll make that feel like a kiss on the cheek.". My voice softened slightly and a made for a moment as though I was going to kiss him, but drew away. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Uh huh" he said, unable to fully close his mouth where my fingers dug into his cheeks. I drew myself over him, looking into his mouth, looking briefly like I was about to spit into it, and wondered if he would enjoy it. His eyes told me he was wondering the same thing.
I thought better of it and pushed him backwards onto the bed. "I think we'd better find something more useful to do with that mouth of yours before it gets you into trouble. But first, time to put you in your place." He reached his arms out obligingly and I wrapped the ropes around each wrist in turn. Ropes, not cuffs; play-cuffs are built to pretend you're confined in them, but they usually have a safety switch you can use to unlatch them with, even without a key. I knew more about knots than I'd let on, and pulled the ropes tight, fastening each with a knot he wouldn't be able to reach with the same hand, and securing each side to the metal part of the bedframe. Then I took his pants off, and did the same to his ankles.
As I worked on them, I leaned teasingly over him, bobbing my barely-covered ass over his chest, his crotch, ever so slightly brushing up against the bulge in his underwear. I felt him tense up, and begin to kiss my calves, as far up my leg as he could crane his neck. I was starting to enjoy myself. I might have to do this for real sometime. But I had a date. Finally satisfied with my handiwork. I slowly sat backwards, planting my bottom on my husband's face, and budgeting myself just a few more minutes to enjoy the situation. He moaned appreciatively and began trying to lick me through my panties. Obligingly, I pulled them to one side and my breath caught in my throat as his tongue made contact. I gripped the back of his head by the hair and pulled him upwards, squeezing him against my ass, and giving me space to tuck my leg in behind his head.
With my left hand holding my panties aside again I pulled my phone out from under the comforter and texted Bob 'I'm free! u ready?'. While I waited for him to reply, I put the phone down and gently clawed my Charlie's torso with my nails, then leaned forward and started kissing his body, inching closer and closer to his manhood. I pulled his underwear down and watched it stiffen as I teased it closer and closer. "Oh you wish don't you? You want that cock in my mouth SO bad." Truth be told, I did too. Or someone's anyway. I was getting more turned on by the minute. I needed to have sex. But I was booked. My phone lit up. It was Bob. He was ready.
I took a deep breath and dismounted. My husband, bewildered, said "huh? What's mmf-". I stuffed another (rather less sexy) set of my underwear in his mouth, stretching and tying it behind his head. I'd tied the knot blind, and it wouldn't hold, but it wasn't that important either. Finally, I withdrew the blindfold (also tucked under the comforter, and covered his eyes. He babbled a few more muffled words. He seemed alarmed, but content. He still thought it was a part of the game. I suppose it was; he just wasn't the one playing. I stood back and admired my handiwork. He looked so helpless. Even comical.
I immediately realized I needed a picture. I snapped a few, experimenting with different angles until I took one I liked. The camera shutter sound went off very audibly, but this seemed to calm him if anything. Well of course I wanted a picture. But I was out of time and there was no longer any hiding that he was in for it. I thought about just leaving. But no, relishing it would be more convincing.
"Now that you're not going anywhere, it's time you learn that submitting isn't about getting exactly what you want, when you want." I said. He paused, and for the first time appeared to be thinking about just how helpless he actually was. I flicked the light switch.
At the sound, he began to squirm. I heard (more or less) a muffled "wait, where are you going?".
"I'm so sorry baby, but that was Sarah. I promised I'd meet her for drinks tonight. She's already at the bar wondering where I am. Silly me, I just can't believe that slipped my mind. But I can't very well cancel on her now can I?"
"Welllemmeowt!" he tried to say, really tugging at the ropes now. I don't know if he really believed I was going to leave him here, but I was taking no chances.
"And why ever would I do that? I've got you right where I want you, don't I? I can teach you patience and still get exactly what I want, IF I want, when I get back. So why ever would I consider doing anything different?" As an afterthought, I pulled his underwear back up over his still raging erection and snapped another picture. Just in case I ever wanted to show this off to anyone. Hmm. On second thought, still a bit much. I pulled a corner of the comforter free and draped it over the region and took another picture. Much better.
