I was a mess for the remainder of the day.
After making the short walk home in a daze, I stepped into my home and leaned back against the front door, my eyes closed as I tried to make sense of the convoluted amalgamation of thoughts running through my mind. Alexandra had me wrapped around her little finger, knew it, and had let me know she knew it. It seemed like she was drawn to me, too, but she held all the cards and could play them however she wished. She'd made the decision to play it slow - quite the contrast to how she'd played that first hand at the neighborhood dinner.
Why are you moaning over the fact that she didn't flat-out molest you again, or worse? I thought your ultimate goal was to make it out of this arrangement with your marital vows still semi-intact. I mean, that is still your intention, right?
Yes... she arouses me unlike anyone I've ever encountered, and the thought of being under her thumb sexually leaves me wet and trembling. But is she really worth throwing away the life I've built with Steve?
I knew the answer to that last question, or at least I thought I did. But Alexandra made me so fucking horny that it frustrated me. While I still believed that I could resist her charms, there was no doubt that my desire to give in had only grown after having spent more time with her. My real quandary was whether I'd maintain enough strength to deny her attempts to beguile me over our remaining two sessions. If she only teased and tantalized me as she had for the previous hour, then I thought I could. But what would happen if she decided to push the issue, as she had the night of our neighborhood dinner? Would my will still be strong enough to deny her, or would I fold like a cheap suit and tear up my marriage certificate right in front of her? Maybe I'd beg her to do it for me, but I could already picture her refusing - forcing me to do it myself.
I spent the remainder of the morning and early afternoon doing chores around the house. After doing several loads of laundry and vacuuming and dusting the downstairs, I decided to run the errands I'd mentioned to Alexandra before going to the gym. I took the time to slip on my workout clothes and then gathered my things, making sure I had the receipt for picking up Steve's suits from the dry cleaners. I then locked up the house before settling in behind the wheel of my late-model Mercedes. My drive to the gym was uneventful, except that the morning session with my seductive, raven-haired temptress played on a loop in my mind.
My workout consisted of a Pilates class that I followed up by running five miles on a treadmill. During both exercises, I found myself hyper-aware of the women around me, just as - and because - Alexandra had instructed me to be. While I did find myself admiring several of the other females there I didn't feel that overwhelming lure that I did when I was in Alexandra's presence. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant.
After picking up our dry cleaning and making a stop at the local grocery store, I was soon back home. I hung Steve's suits on his closet door and then took the time to take a quick shower, washing off the sweat that had accumulated on my skin during my workout. While soaping up my body, I found myself tempted to self-pleasure, but, remembering Alexandra's final instructions, I resisted, the denial of my urges bringing me a little thrill because I knew that it would please her.
By the time Steve finally walked in the door at nearly six, I was just finishing supper. While he went upstairs to shower and change clothes, I took the time to set the table. By the time he returned I had his meal of stuffed roast pheasant, risotto, and fresh peas laid out on his plate.
I ate quietly, picking at my food as Steve regaled me with the details of his day. While I listened with one ear, my mind continued to drift back to thoughts of Alexandra and what awaited me the next day. If my husband noticed my state of distraction, he made no mention.
After dinner, I cleaned up the dishes while my husband retired to his den to watch a baseball game and enjoy a glass or two of scotch. I quickly finished my chore and then informed Steve I was going to go soak in a bubble bath. After he mumbled a reply, I climbed the stairs and entered our en suite bathroom where I disrobed and then turned on the tub's faucet.
Once the tub was half full, I poured in some bath oil and then slowly settled down into the hot water until almost my entire body was submerged. With only my head and the tops of my small breasts sticking up out of the water, I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to drift to what had become my obsession over the last twenty-four hours.
I thought back to earlier that day, and the mental image of Alexandra in her naughty librarian outfit filled my mind. She'd looked so sexy, and yet had at times seemed so aloof and detached. As irritating and insulting as that should have been, it hadn't been. If anything, her haughty attitude had turned me on even more and was doing so yet again.
Before I knew what I was doing, my hand had found my right breast, my thumb sliding over the sensitive protuberance that was my nipple. I moaned lightly as I imagined it was Alexandra's deft fingertips caressing me instead of my own. The thought excited me immensely, so much so that before I knew it, my dominant left hand had found its way down between my legs, my fingertips sliding over my engorged clitoris and down into the slick furrow of my sex.
"Between now and our next session, under no circumstances are you allowed to touch yourself or make use of any of your sex toys."
My hands instantly ceased what they'd been doing, flying away from my body as if continuing to touch it might burn me. I sat up in the tub, taking a deep breath as goosebumps covered the flesh of my upper torso, the cool air-conditioned air nearly causing me to shiver. A sudden rush of nervous laughter erupted loudly from somewhere deep in my chest; my right hand flew up to cover my mouth and stifle the sound. I quietly listened for signs that Steve had heard me, but after several seconds, there were no footsteps indicating that he had been alerted by my jovial outburst.
I shook my head at the absurdity of the thought that Alexandra would know that I'd pleasured myself. It wasn't as if she had cameras planted in our home. There was absolutely no way she'd find out, provided I didn't tell her myself.
That's the problem, though. You know that if she asks, you're going to feel compelled to tell her the truth - and even if you were to lie to her, she reads you so well that she'd know.
Releasing a deep sigh, I hit the valve on the stopper to the tub. There would be no climax for me that night, despite how aroused I felt. The thought of the fact I was denying my own desires just to make Alexandra happy both excited and irritated me. The knowledge that I was going to bed sexually frustrated because I was afraid to displease Alexandra spoke volumes about the effect that she had on me.
I quickly dressed and slid between the covers with my phone in hand, intending to use the device as a distraction from the aroused state I found myself in. My plan turned out to be a frustrating endeavor; thoughts of Alexandra and her icy and dominant demeanor intruded into every article I attempted to read. I finally gave up and set my phone aside, turning off the lamp on my nightstand and laying my head down against my pillow.
As I lay there in the dark, I became certain of one thing: it was going to be a long and sleepless night.
<<<<<>>>>>
As I exited the house the following day and began my walk to Alexandra's, I found myself feeling a growing sense of anticipation with each step I took. I'd taken great care in selecting my outfit for the day and had spent nearly an hour on my makeup and hair. When I was through, I'd stared at my reflection in the window and had felt particularly pleased with myself. I'd chosen a gray pair of yoga pants that hugged my lower half like a second skin. I'd paired it with a Lycra top that zipped up the middle. It was pink with gray sleeves, the zipper was undone down to below my breasts. It was a daring look because I'd opted to skip wearing a bra, the flesh of my B cup globes prominently displayed and there for the taking. In all modesty, I thought I looked pretty damned sexy.
I held my breath as I rang Alexandra's doorbell.
I'd had a softening of my stance regarding my sexy therapist during the night. I'd struggled to fall asleep thanks in large part to my mind racing with wanton, sapphic thoughts. Once I'd finally gotten to sleep, I'd been plagued with numerous erotic dreams that had featured Alexandra. One of them, in which she'd had me tied down to a bed while she'd pleasured me with a large strap-on, had jolted me awake with my sex still quivering from the powerful climax that I wasn't even sure had been limited to the dream. As I'd lain there afterward, willing myself to calm down, I'd begun to wonder if it was even possible for me to resist her hold on me. I'd decided that it wouldn't be the worst that could happen if she were to seduce me in the privacy of her own home; it wasn't like anyone would ever know, and perhaps having it happen would finally allow me to get it out of my system. That way I could get back to the relative safety of my boring old married life.
Of course, I knew there was a chance that I was kidding myself, and, then I stubbornly tried to kid myself about how big a chance that was. There was always the reality that a sexual encounter with Alexandra would meet or exceed the lofty heights I'd built it up to in my imagination. I knew that if it did, I wouldn't be strong enough to stop from carrying on with a full-blown affair if that was even something that she was interested in. As I thought about our hypothetical sexual encounter being a one-and-done - especially on her terms, rather than on mine - I felt a powerful wave of disappointment wash over me.
