She knew she had to make the call. She always had to. It's the rule. She hesitated, then pressed call on her phone, hearing him pick up on the other end.
"Hey there," His voice pleasant, with a hint of dry anticipation.
"Well, it happened again." Her voice soft, reluctant.
"I see. What happened?"
Silence. Then, "He fucked me."
A pause.
"My old lover just fucked me," she whispered sheepishly, quietly into the phone so the uber driver couldnt hear.
"I see. Well, that's what seems to happen when you go out with guys, have too many drinks and start flirting, isn't it?"
Silence.
"Isn't it." She could hear the calm statement, not the question.
"Yes...." She said softly into the phone. She could feel the wetness dripping into her panties as she talked to him. Another man's wetness.
"How far away are you?"
"Twenty minutes."
"You know what happens when you get home, right?"
"Yes, I know." Her brain slightly foggy from the gummy she took earlier in the evening.
"I'll be ready when you get here. It's best you think about your actions and your punishment while you wait to be dropped off "
"I know," she said quietly. She heard the phone go dead as he hung up.
All she could think about in those last few miles was how hot it was to flirt with her old friend, an old lover, how sexy it was to be whisked away into his car, feeling like a teenager again, being filled up again by his urge, and how badly she needed a release after their quick encounter. Remembering the rules. Knowing how much she'd be punished for her actions, knowing her husband would make her pay for it, make her admit to it, make her say things she didn't want to reveal. And finally, when she'd emptied her soul, she'd get the release she needed so badly right now. It was all she could think about as the car sped down the road toward her punishment.
The car dropped her in front of the house, and she slunk up the driveway to the door. The porch light was on, guiding her way. The front door was closed, but unlocked. She knew he'd be waiting for her just inside the foyer. She pushed open the door into the semi lit darkness.
"Hi Slut."
She had always loved the way he called her a slut....it was so debasing, but she knew it was also true. She had accepted it early in their relationship.
"I'm glad you are home. Now come here."
She walked to him. He gently put his hands on her shoulders, bringing her close. He didn't kiss her right away...he smelled her hair, her neck, her perfume, the scent of alcohol and sweat. Then he kissed her forehead, then briefly her lips. She stood there limply, sheepishly, like a trained animal knowing it did something wrong that displeased its master.
Then, abruptly, he turned her around and moved her toward the wall. She braced herself with her hands, positioning like she was being searched. She knew what was coming next.
"Well, let's just see how nasty my little slut has been."
Bracing himself behind her to her left, he moved his right hand down to her sleek thighs, slowly moving his hand upward. She felt warm to the touch. Soft. The folds of her skirt lifted as his hand slowly went higher. She felt his fingers circle the soft curves of the bottom of her ass, right where her thighs turn into her sexiest asset. His fingers lingered on this soft fold. Then she felt him move his hand to her cheeck, exploring, finding she had on a Brazilian cut panty, only covering a little bit.
Then his hand moved back down, and she felt his whole palm move underneath her, covering her whole sex.
"I need to check you" was all he said. She knew her panties were damp from the leaking, and she knew he could feel it on his hand. She knew what he would find.
Then she felt his fingers move, push the fabric aside, felt him opening her, gently gliding his fingers inside of her. She knew there wouldn't be much resistance. She heard sounds of wetness.
She felt him slowly stroke his fingers in and out a few times, just to tease her a little bit. Her knees were starting to get weak. She felt him gently stroke her clit, making her moan softly.
"No condom." Another statement, not a question. She knew he could read her, knew everything about her. It's why she loved him.
