This is my first story - and it has also been a long time coming. I hope you enjoy, and I hope to keep writing. Thanks to Literotica for all the inspiration over the years. Enjoy!
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It took until my 50th birthday before I finally asked Gwenyth for the present I had really wanted for years. Now here I am, tied face down to the bed at the W Hotel in Times Square, waiting, anticipating the return of my wife with my long-awaited gift. I'm blindfolded, plugged, and I can't hear anything due to the noise cancelling headphones on my ears, and I'm nervous about Gwyn's reaction to my openness. It's been a long road getting here, and now all I have is silence in which to remember that road.
She learned early in our marriage that I had a fetish for lingerie – not just looking at hers, but wearing my own as well. I had been doing our laundry one afternoon, and accidentally left a few items of my private stash lying on the ironing board. I had intended to put them away separately, but forgot and left them out in the open. I experimented with women's underwear from the time I hit puberty, but this was the very first time that anyone had ever learned about it. I found my things on the ironing board, with a note – 'We have to talk' – and after the panic attack, I realized that I had to come clean quickly, like pulling a band aid.
Gwyn called that afternoon and I answered the phone saying 'They are mine', realizing that she may be scared that I was having an affair, and knowing that I would never do that. She accepted the new reality quickly, and over the next few weeks we had several conversations about what it meant for me to dress. I was always honest, but always in a partial way. I was never fully open about how much dressing meant to me, or how long it had been happening – and I never took the big step of telling her how much I wanted her to help me, and dress me, and ultimately to dominate our sex life in every way.
Ultimately – that lack of complete clarity led me to hiding the level of my submissiveness, and to the hotel in New York, 15 years later.
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The first thing I can notice is the smell of her. She cleaned up, had a shower, and I can smell her damp pussy near my face. I want to reach out and give her pleasure, but I still can't tell exactly where she is. If she wants to be licked, she will take it at her own pace. Today she is in control of everything.
She knows, has always known, that I would go down on her and stay there as long as she wanted without a moment of hesitation. I love to bring her to orgasm with my tongue, maybe even more than I enjoy fucking her. I love to feel her clench around my tongue, and stiffen up as she cums. When she lets me, I love to tongue her ass or use my fingers there while she orgasms. She doesn't always want it, but when she does it undeniably helps her to her most powerful orgasms.
But today – I think she understands that this is her time, to dominate, to control, to make things last just as long as she wants.
I must be a pretty picture. I hope she is half as turned on as I am. She showed me the blindfold before putting it on me. It is black and says 'Mine' in a cursive font. My lingerie is all pink – symbolic of my final acts of femininity. The stockings are silk, and delicate, and feel like heaven over my newly shaved legs (the first time). The anal plug is one that I have owned for years, and is steel with a beautiful pink gemstone between my cheeks (I gave it to her for our 15th wedding anniversary – we've used it together one time in each of us, but I've used it on my own regularly for years). The satin nighty I'm wearing was a birthday gift for me that I opened just before dinner – with the blindfold and a promise of things to come.
She touches my back, and runs her hands up and down me, through my hair, over my stockings, under me to pinch my sensitive nipples. She gently removes my headphones, and leans over me to whisper in my ear. I can't feel her large breasts on my back so she must be wearing something, but I don't know what. She is firm, and erotic, and quietly asks me if I am doing alright. I start to say that I am fine, but she slips something in my mouth – a ball gag I think – and I realize that any conversation for the night will be very one sided.
As she tightens the gag around my head, she whispers 'If you want to change your mind, all you have to do is says so!' but she knows I am too far gone into my fantasy, and my history, to change a single moment. I have belonged to Gwyneth for over 20 years – tonight just opens another door into the depths of our relationship.
She reaches around me again to take hold of both my nipples through the satin. She runs her hands under the nighty and pulls my left nipple taut before applying a clamp to it, the repeats the act on the other side. I've always loved having my nipples played with, and would often tease myself while masturbating, but the clamp is a new sensation that sends lightening bolts to my brain and lights up all my sexual response. I'm throwing my hips back at her trying to get any little bit of sensation to my ass or my cock, and I almost lose it in the sheets. She knows that I am getting closer to losing all control – I think that is her target.
When she runs her hands down and over my ass, tugging lightly on my plug when she goes by, I moan into the gag. I want her to take me – and I feel certain that she will, but I am just along for the ride at this point. She grabs the end of the plug and slowly pulls it all they way out, commenting on the ease with which it comes out before roughly shoving it back in. In and out she plays with the plug, all the while commenting about how loose I am and how much she like the jewel in the back. I'm getting used to the feel of the plug sliding in and out, when suddenly there is an extra pressure – something that I'm definitely not used to. She slowly and gently eases a much larger toy and stretches my rim until it pops into place. I moan incoherently into my gag and the bed.
