It was date night with my boyfriend while my husband had a boys' night here at the house, and I was in the bathroom getting ready. My hair was done, and my makeup was almost finished. I stood in front of the mirror, finalizing the last step, applying my lipstick, when my husband walked in and stopped to stare.
"Wow. He's in for a treat tonight!" my husband said as he looked me over from behind. I was wearing a tight red dress, hiding a matching black bra and thong set. "Will you tell me about it later?" he asked, making eye contact with me in the mirror before casting his eyes down.
"Only if you're a good boy," I responded as I turned and draped my arms over his shoulders, pressing my soft body against his. Even through my dress and his jeans, I could feel the firm cage that I kept his cock locked in. There was no question about his fidelity, but the cage kept him on his toes, making him the perfect submissive husband. I breathed at his neck, "If you ask me nicely, maybe I'll even send you a picture or two."
A soft groan escaped from his lips as his hands roamed over my body, touching my voluptuous ass, plump belly, and big tits. "How can I prove myself worthy tonight?" he asked me.
"Tonight, you're going to tell your friends that your wife is out on a date with another man, and not only do you know it, but you also love it," I purred back into his ear. I'd toyed with the idea for a while, making him tell his friends about the nature of our marriage: "I want you to secretly record the conversation so I can hear everyone's genuine reactions."
I knew the challenge would embarrass him, but more importantly, I wanted his friends to know. I wanted to plant the seed in their minds that our marriage is open.
"Wha...what..." he stuttered, clearly shocked.
"Are you going to make me repeat myself?" I asked, my voice changing from a seductive purr to stern and dominant.
"I can't tell the guys I'm a cuckold! I'll be the laughing stock of the table! You know they'll never let me live this down!" My husband was lacking a spine. He's lucky to have me.
"So don't act ashamed of the fact. Own it. Who cares if you're a cuck?" I countered, already bored with the conversation. As I picked up my phone, I saw a text message from my boyfriend that he was running half an hour late and had already called the restaurant to update the reservation.
"Besides, it looks like I'll still be home when the boys start showing up in a couple of minutes. My boyfriend just texted me that he's running a little late." I said before giving him a chance to push back further on the task. "Your friends aren't stupid. If they see me in this dress, they'll know I'm not just going out with the girls."
I returned to the mirror, sliding some earrings in. I could see the panic in his eyes even in the reflection, but he knew the conversation was over. His task for the evening was clear.
It was a few minutes later that the doorbell rang and my husband walked out of the bathroom to let the first of his friends in the door.
I finished getting ready, making sure I had everything I needed in my handbag and checking my reflection one more time. I was ready, except for my shoes. Male voices filled the living room as I grabbed a pair of heels and walked to the front of the house.
I was instantly greeted by my husband's friends, all of whom stopped chatting long enough to greet me and discreetly check me out. I pretended not to notice their eyes on me as I pulled my husband to the side and watched him get on his hands & knees before me so he could put my shoes on for me.
A semi-public act of submission. I was impressed. I only ever told him to put my shoes on for me in private. He kissed each leg after finishing, then got up and offered me a hand. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips before whispering, "Keep it up and you'll earn yourself more than just a story and a picture later" in his ear.
While my husband's back was turned to his friends, they didn't try to hide their stares. They watched the entire moment unfold, only noticing the quiet when the doorbell rang once more. My boyfriend had arrived to pick me up.
"Have fun, boys!" I said, walking out the door.
I greeted my boyfriend with a deep kiss, my lipstick transferring to his lips before he wrapped an arm around my waist and walked me to the car, opening the door for me and letting me to settle in before closing it behind me and walking around to the driver's side.
As usual, my boyfriend had planned a perfect date for us, starting with dinner at a quiet, dimly lit steakhouse, followed by drinks at a nearby cocktail lounge. Conversation flowed easily with him throughout the evening, and as we arrived at his flat afterwards, I was ready to show him what I was wearing underneath.
Our chemistry was explosive. The moment we walked in, our hands were on each other as our lips locked. Every week, we had one evening together for a date, and every week, the moment we were in private, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was like the date part of the night was foreplay, all leading up to this. His tongue sliding into my mouth as my hands gripped his shirt, pulling him in closely against me, his hand sliding up my thick thighs.
My boyfriend knew his place in my life: for one night a week, I was his and he was mine. We were friends first, chatting regularly between our weekly visits. I'm sure we could have seen each other more often, and occasionally we did, but weekly also felt perfect.
Our relationship was far different than the one I had with my husband. My boyfriend and I had a power play, both of us equally dominant, both of us equally hungry for pleasure. What happens when two pleasure dom/mes fuck? They each try to out fuck the other, delivering as much pleasure as possible to one another. That's what my boyfriend and I were. That's what we gave one another, week after week, never tiring of the excitement of each other's touch.
