The next day I woke, wearing my "uniform" -- the same one I wore while cleaning her living room. After my climax, we had a long conversation throughout the night about her work and her ambitions at the company that employed her. She talked about her frustrations and her lack of control in the workplace. This finally culminated in her expression of gratitude, both because I was a good listener and because she felt in control of our relationship.
"I am glad we had that talk last night," she said, over breakfast.
"I am too... and I agree....it's better this way," I noted.
As one of her eyebrows arched up, she quickly asked, "What's better?"
"I think you should be in control, or at least more control than me," I replied.
"Oh?" she smiled.
"Yes. I think women are basically the superior sex. Let's face it, you're basically superior to me. Better judgment and more even temperament....plus the ability to multitask. You're just better."
Her eyes beamed and sparkled with pride and excitement.
She then got just a little more serious: "Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?"
"Yes it is," I laughed, "In 4 months."
"Oh...well, good. And in 4 months for your birthday, if you stay a good boy, you can watch me shower."
My eyes opened wider than Revenge of the Sith.
"Don't get too excited," she brought me down a notch. "You won't be able to see much through the shower door glass....just enough."
"Will....will I ever get to see your whole body?"
"I like it this way. But if you stay a good boy, we'll see."
"Of course I'll be a good boy, not like Fernando." I added, playing with fire. I dropped the name of her underling at work. Fernando didn't do what he was told. Worse, it appeared that this miserable subordinate might be spreading false stories about m'am.
"Good. Don't be like Fernando," she responded. "He's probably totally your opposite...rude, full of himself....." she added, followed by a long pause "The gals at the office tell me his schlong is huge. So yeah, you're definitely his opposite."
This made me blush. Incredulously, I asked "Do ladies really talk about that kind of thing?"
"Oh, darling....and worse. We trade stories about how good you guys are in the sack, your kinks, and even trade pics."
"Pics?" I could barely utter.
"Yes," she responded. She seemed a bit uncomfortable but then said: "Wally...you know what I'm offering you right?"
"What do you mean?" I asked inquisitively.
She replied with the oh-so wondrous: "I'm offering you a chance to lose yourself. To be owned by a powerful woman who is turned-on by owning you...and a chance to...a chance to be adored and put on a pedestal than few other men in your position are."
"Put on a pedestal?" I squeezed out of my lungs as my heart began to beat faster.
"Yes. You'll be treated like a trophy husband....basically, a piece of meat. Oh, you'll be loved, but this is your chance to be ..."
She paused.
"Your piece of ass?" I finished her remark.
"Yes. My piece of ass."
"Wow" was all I could muster.
"So yeah. About those pics..." she slowly muttered.
I pretended to panicked, but inside I was thrilled beyond all calibration. I answered "You mean, my pics..." and trailed off but with a look of total mortification on my face.
"It's just part of the deal, sweetheart. I know it's part of your fantasies to have other women know about us, about your ....ahem, shortcomings...about our lifestyle. But I've kept it to a small group, mostly a few trusted ladies, only one co-worker, mostly people you don't know or haven't met yet, although they are dying to meet you."
"Mostly women I don't know?" I asked.
"Yes. There's of course one gal that knows about us that you already know, silly. Think about it. ...You silly boy."
"Oh my God. Samantha! My cousin who hooked us up.... She knows....did you....[I was audibly gulping by this time], has she and your co-worker... seen my pics?" The butterflies in my stomach had turned into dragonflies.
"My co-worker has. So has my sister....but no, not Samantha yet, but she knows about your diet-dick," she used her then favorite name for my penis. After a semi-painful five seconds in which pondered the fear in my eye, she blinked and then added "I'm working on convincing her. As a matter of fact. I think I'm going to text her while you open up that bottle of champagne I've got chilling in the fridge... and make me a mimosa, nekkid boy."
I excitedly and dutifully complied. I hurried and brought back her drink, excited as to how Samantha would react.
"I texted her," M'am said. "She hasn't gotten back to me....why don't you go put on the bathing trunks I got you...I want to see how they look."
I half expected the trunks in question to be a bikini swimsuit or maybe a thong. I went into the bedroom and was somewhat disappointed seeing only a pair of regular trunks.
On the bed was the neatly folded navy swimsuit. This fashion show was different. In other situations when trying on swim trunks I would ordinarily have to disrobe. But here I was totally and completely naked already and so all I had to do was slip on the garment. It however felt very unusual doing this and I suppose this was the first time I tried on a swimsuit from a state of nakedness.
I walked to the living room and saw her checking me out. She cracked a smile.
"Iike them a lot....you look great in them."
"Thank you, m'am. I have to say I was kinda scared you'd pick out a more revealing swimsuit for me."
She laughed and said, "That comes later, don't you worry."
She gestured for me to come closer. I obeyed. She kissed me on the lips and her tongue penetrated my mouth. She knew exactly what she was doing. Grabbing me by my waist, she turned me around, nibbled on my ear while rubbing my ass with one of her hands. She asked about one of my fantasies. The one about the beach. She knew about this from the texts I sent her between our first and second outings together.
She whispered in my ear that she would take me to the nude beach. "I take my trunks off?" I asked.
"No," she said: "You put on a towel and drop your trunks underneath...go get a towel from that bathroom right now."
"Right now?" I ask.
"Right the fuck now!" she commanded.
I grabbed a towel from that bathroom and wrapped it around me. I knew what she wanted. I dropped the trunks from underneath the towel. Then I nervously walked out and handed them to her.
"YESSSSSS..." she practically hissed.
I felt extremely nervous, almost like I was there at the beach. I handed my trunk to her so only my towel guarded my modesty....
