Good Boy Fantasy Meets Reality

Summary: A single whispered phrase lingers after a passionate night. As the week unfolds, subtle changes in Lindsey's behavior begin to surface. One night out changes everything--proving she knows more than he realized... and plans to take control.

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I woke up slowly, like surfacing from a dream I wasn't ready to leave. The sun spilled across the bed in soft golden stripes. I turned over to check for my wife.

She wasn't there.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, still half-lost in sleep. My body felt heavy, relaxed in a way that told me I'd slept hard. As I shifted beneath the sheets, I felt it--dry, sticky cum across my stomach and thighs. A mess that could only mean one thing.

It wasn't a dream.

The last moment before sleep rushed back into my mind.

Good boy.

Had she actually said that?

My heart picked up with the memory. Lindsey--my sweet, affectionate, loving wife--had she really taken control like that? How did she know what I was reading? How did she know?

I wasn't ready to ask. Not yet. I still carried the shame of that kink deep inside me. I didn't want to give it voice if it meant breaking something sacred.

I stood slowly, half in disbelief, half already aroused again. I wandered down the hall and into the shower. The moment the hot water hit my skin, the memory came back in full force. I leaned against the tile, cock twitching, nearly hard again just remembering her hand... her voice... that command.

Was it a fluke? A one-time thing? Or had something changed?

I pushed the thoughts aside. I wasn't ready to open that box. Not yet. After drying off, I made my way downstairs and kissed Lindsey on the cheek as she cooked breakfast.

She kissed me back without missing a beat, acting completely normal.

I poured a glass of orange juice, lost in thought at the fridge. My mind spun in circles--should I say something? Did she even remember?

"Sit down," she said suddenly.

Her voice was firm. Confident. It pulled me from my thoughts. Before I could analyze it too deeply, she added with a gentle smile, "Breakfast is ready. I don't want it to get cold, sweetie. Take a seat."

There was the Lindsey I knew. Maybe I had imagined it all.

Life went on like normal. Mostly.

Every so often, I'd catch her saying something just a bit more bluntly--giving direction instead of asking. But nothing too far outside the ordinary. Maybe I was reading into things.

A few days passed like that. I went to work. She stayed home, ran errands, kept the house spotless. I came home to hugs and smiles. We cuddled. Talked. Even skipped sex for a couple of nights, which wasn't unusual for us.

The further we got from that night, the more I convinced myself it was just a fluke. A perfect alignment of the stars. A dream.

Then came the third night.

We were going out with friends, and she was already getting ready when I got home. I walked into the bedroom to find an outfit laid out for me on the bed.

That was new.

"Get dressed so we won't be late," she said, motioning to the clothes.

That tone again. Confident. Casual. Commanding.

I got dressed, trying not to overthink it. I was adjusting my collar when she walked out of the closet--and I froze.

She looked incredible. No--dangerous.

A black mini skirt hugged her hips, riding high on her toned legs. Her top was a faux-leather corset-style piece with built-in ribs that cinched her waist and lifted her breasts, creating perfect, irresistible cleavage.

It was sexy, confident, and more revealing than anything I'd ever seen her wear out. She turned to put on her heels, and as she bent down, her skirt slid higher, giving me a full view of her perfect ass. No panty lines. A thong or... maybe nothing at all.

I was already getting hard.

"Maybe we shouldn't go out after all," I said, not taking my eyes off her.

She looked back over her shoulder, caught my stare, and smirked.

"Calm down and get in the car so we're not late," she teased, stepping close. With her heels on, she was eye-level with me now. I reached for her waist, but she held up a finger.

"Do as I say," she said with a playful grin, "or you won't get your treat later."

She pressed her arms together to make her cleavage pop, watching my eyes fall straight into the trap. Then she gently pushed me back.

"Yes, ma'am," I joked, trying to play it off as she turned away.

And over her shoulder, she tossed back:

"There's a good boy."

I stopped cold. My heart skipped. My cock throbbed.

Had she really said it again?

The night went on like any other. We laughed with friends, had a couple more drinks than usual. But the energy was different. I couldn't stop watching her--confident, bold, more flirtatious than usual.

The other husbands noticed too. How could they not?

By the end of the night, I was buzzing with alcohol and need. We called a cab, and I followed her outside. She walked ahead of me--hips swaying, ponytail swinging, her mini skirt barely holding the line of decency.

She stopped at the cab, turned, and raised an eyebrow.

"Open it."

I blinked. "Yes, ma'am," I replied with a smile, opening the door.

She slid in, legs spreading just enough for me to glimpse a tiny red thong. She caught me looking.

"Are you looking up my skirt?" she asked, amused.

I didn't even pretend to deny it.

She leaned in and whispered, "That was very bad, looking up my skirt like that... Guess you don't want that treat anymore."

My cock strained in my pants. I leaned closer and whispered, "I'm sorry... how can I make it up to you?"

She gave me a coy smile. "We'll see when we get home. Until then, you'd better be on your best behavior..." Her voice dipped as she leaned close to my ear. "Like a good boy."

Then she bit my earlobe--soft, but firm enough to make me jolt.

The rest of the car ride was torture. I sat stiff, painfully hard, eyes glued to her legs crossed beside me, her fingers lazily tracing her thigh like she didn't know what she was doing--but I knew she did.

When the car stopped, she didn't move.

I leapt out and rushed around to open her door, taking her hand as she stepped out, graceful as ever. She walked straight toward the front door without looking back.

"That's a good start," she said as she passed me.

I scrambled ahead, fumbling to get the door open before she reached it. I didn't quite make it. She stopped, tapping her foot, arms crossed--playfully annoyed. I opened the door and let her in.

She walked straight to the bedroom. I followed fast.

The second I reached for her, she pushed me back. "Uh uh," she said with a smirk. "You want your treat? Then you'll do what you're told."

I froze, heart pounding.

"Stay right there. Don't move unless I say."

My mouth was dry, but I nodded. "Like Simon says?" I joked, breathless.

She smirked and turned, crawling slowly onto the bed. Her skirt rose higher with every inch. I stood still, exactly where she left me, eyes wide, cock throbbing.

She reached the headboard, turned, and lounged against the pillows. Legs together, she swayed her knees side to side with deliberate tease.

"Come here. Crawl," she purred.

I dropped to all fours, crawling slowly toward her, heart hammering in my chest. Her eyes never left me.

When I reached her, she raised one foot and rested it against my forehead.

"Stop right there," she commanded. "You were very naughty, looking up my skirt, weren't you?"

I nodded, her sole lightly brushing against my face.

"And you want to make up for it?"

Another nod.

"And you're going to do what you're told... like a good boy?"

That phrase hit me like lightning. I nodded again, swallowing hard.

"Good." Her foot trailed down to my lips. "Start by kissing my feet."

I kissed them--softly, reverently. The bottoms first, then the tops, savoring each toe. I kissed along her arches, her heels, her ankles. She watched, her breathing growing slower, heavier.

"Now suck my toes," she whispered, her voice thicker with lust.

I obeyed. I took her toes into my mouth one by one, licking and sucking them, giving each the attention of a lover. First her right foot, then her left. She leaned back with a moan, head tipping against the headboard.

"Rub my feet while you suck," she ordered dreamily.

I did, massaging her soles while my tongue circled each toe, lost in the moment. Worshiping her.

"There's a good boy..."

She slowly spread her legs and slid her tiny red thong to the side, revealing her perfectly smooth mound.

"Kiss up my legs," she said. "But don't touch my pussy."

I followed the command, kissing my way from ankle to thigh, taking my time, breathing her in.

She tangled her fingers in my hair, guiding me. "Slower... more passionate... right there..."

Her breath hitched as I kissed just beside her lips.

She moved her panties aside fully, exposing her glistening slit, and tightened her grip in my hair.

"Tongue out," she ordered.

I obeyed. She dragged my tongue along her lips, deliberately avoiding the center, teasing both of us. Her breath grew shallower, her hips rising in slow, pulsing movements.

She was using my face--owning it.

"Slower... softer... now harder... right there... don't stop..."

Her voice climbed with every command, her fingers directing my head like a conductor guiding a symphony.

Then she froze--body tensing--and pressed my face deep into her pussy.

With a cry, she came hard, grinding herself against me, her thighs clamping around my head as her orgasm poured out over my mouth and chin. She didn't let go. Her moans turned into gasps and aftershocks that made her body twitch.

I stayed still, her hands holding me in place until she relaxed.

"Good boy," she panted, stroking my cheek. "Such a good boy."

She kissed me, tasting herself on my lips, then leaned close.

"You were such a good boy... and now it's time for your treat." She winked and pointed to the chair across the room. "Go sit down and take off your pants."

I didn't hesitate. I practically flew into the seat, pants gone before I even touched the cushion.

She walked over slowly, like a queen approaching her throne, then dropped to her knees.

Her hand wrapped around my cock. She stroked it as she reached behind to undo her top. Her breasts spilled out--round, perfect, irresistible.

She lifted her skirt and knelt between my legs, pressing her tits around my shaft, squeezing them together.

She began to move--slow, deliberate strokes--her cleavage hugging my cock, her eyes locked on mine.

"Is this what you like?" she asked, a smirk on her lips.

I nodded.

"Just like your books?" she whispered, leaning in.

My breath caught.

My brain froze.

She knew.

She licked the precum from my tip and kissed me, letting me taste myself. "It's okay," she said, her voice low and sultry. "I know what you were reading, you naughty boy..."

She stroked faster, her tits gliding up and down my shaft as she teased, "But you're being a good boy now, doing what you're told... aren't you?"

"Y-yes," I barely managed.

"And you're not going to cum until I say, right?"

"I... I won't..."

She slowed the motion, just enough to keep me on the edge.

"Good boy," she purred.

She licked another drop from my tip and pushed her tongue into my mouth, feeding me the taste of my own arousal.

I was shaking now--legs trembling, fists clenched against the chair.

"You've been such a good boy. It's time for your treat, baby. In three..."

Her tits pumped faster.

"Two..."

She watched my eyes, judging just how close I was.

"One..."

My whole body clenched.

"Zero."

She dove down, taking my cock deep into her mouth.

That was it.

I exploded--hot, intense, overwhelming. My whole body convulsed as I emptied myself into her mouth, pulse after pulse, each wave crashing through me harder than the last.

She didn't flinch. She took it all, swallowing every drop.

And then--just when I thought it was over--she climbed up and kissed me again, her tongue sliding into my mouth, sharing the last of my cum.

She dragged her breasts across my softening cock, smearing the remaining drops across my stomach. I was completely spent, dazed, glowing.

"I hope you enjoyed your delicious treat, good boy," she whispered, giggling as she stood.

"Now get in bed."

She peeled off the last of her clothes and slid between the sheets.

I followed--still in a haze--undressing and climbing in beside her. She curled up against me, kissed my forehead, and smiled.

I could feel it--her warmth, her pride, her power.

Between the alcohol and the orgasm, I didn't know what was real anymore. Did she know about my kink all along? Was this who she really was? Or was it a fantasy that somehow spilled into our lives?

It didn't matter.

The secret was out. And she didn't just accept it--she owned it.

I drifted into sleep beside her, the woman of my dreams.

Now, more than ever.