She's Submissive

I was at home having a lazy Saturday afternoon. My garden was in good shape, my housework done, and I didn't have to consider anyone's feelings but my own. My own said a beer, some chips, a big-ass armchair, and a large TV screen to watch the game was the order of the day.

So there I was, just settling down, when the door-bell rang. It's always the way isn't it. I put the beer down, heaved myself up out of the chair, and went to answer the door.

A pretty young thing was standing there. Brownish hair, light brown eyes, and a very agreeable figure, said agreeable figure lightly clad in clothes that displayed it very nicely. Unfortunately I had no idea who she was so I guessed she was at the wrong place.

"Can I help you?" I asked politely. (I'm always polite to pretty young things.)

"Rob Highson?" she asked and I graciously conceded that I was he.

"I'm Michelle," she continued.

"How fortunate for you," I said. "A pretty name for a pretty girl. Unfortunately I'm at a loss as to why you would come here to tell me your name.'

"I'm Chuck's wife. Chuck Harris."

"My sympathies. I know Chuck and I wouldn't want to be married to him. There again, I don't suppose he'd want to be married to me, either. You are by far the better choice where Chuck and marriage are concerned."

"What?" So much for my scintillating wit.

"I'm sure you didn't come around just to introduce yourself," I explained. "The purpose for your visit would be. . .?"

I left the question dangling.

"His tools."

"Yeees," I said in an encouraging manner.

"He asked me to pick them up."

"I see. As a matter of curiosity, why does he expect me to have them?"

"He said you gave him a lift home yesterday and that he left his tools in your truck. He needs them to do some work at home."

"Ah, I see. Why don't you come in and I'll go and check out the truck to see what's there. Feel free to have a beer while you wait."

I ushered Michelle into the front room and she sat down on the edge of my armchair. She was a little thing and if she'd sat down properly she'd have been swallowed up in it. I sauntered out to the garage to check for Chuck's toolbox. Leaving them is someone's car was just the sort of thing he would do. As I went I pondered. Chuck had been talking about his wife and while I'd only been half listening I remembered that he'd said something that I currently found interesting.

- - - - - - -

I was feeling irritated with Chuck that I had to pick up his tools from Rob. He was the one who'd forgotten them so he should have picked them up. The trouble was that he was quite content to wait until Monday when he saw Rob at work and I wanted some things fixed today.

I introduced myself to Rob and explained why I'd come. He seemed to have an odd sense of humour and I wondered if he was having a go at me or Chuck. Still, he invited me in while he went to check for the tools.

I sat on the edge of this enormous armchair. I wouldn't like a chair like that in my front room. It completely dominates the room. There again, Rob was a very large man so I suppose he needed a large chair. After a couple of minutes he returned, carrying what I assume was Chuck's toolbox. He put it down next to the door while I struggled to get off that damn chair. By the time I was off he was standing in front of me.

"You know, while I was getting the tools I was trying to remember something Chuck said. You know how he's always talking. Anyway, the subject of wives came up. Not having one I didn't have anything to contribute but Chuck sure did. One of the things that he contributed was the fact that sexually you're totally submissive, willing to do anything you're told to do and never arguing about it. He reckons that all he has to do is lay his hand on your breast or ass and you melt."

What! How dare Chuck say something like that? I'd kill him. I'd castrate him and have his testicles bronzed. Did he make me out to be some sort of mouse? What was worse was how dare Rob mention this. I was about to open my mouth to blast him when I lost my breath due to shock. Rob had very calmly pulled my t-shirt loose from my skirt and slipped his hand up under it, closing it over my breast. And I mean breast, not bra. His hand had glided over my bra and then under it, cupping my breast inside the bra.

I took a deep breath, meaning to really blast him, but his free hand flipped up my skirt and he slapped my bottom.

"Hush," he said, sliding his hand over my panties and then inside the waistband and sliding over my actual bottom. "No talking just yet. Later if you behave yourself."

If I behaved myself? What incredible gall. Did he really think I was going to let him have sex with me? Apparently so, from what he went ahead and told me.

"First of all" he said softly, "I'm going to take all your clothes off. Then after I've petted you for a while I'll let you hold me. You can start off by putting that pretty mouth to work and when I'm satisfied with what you're doing I'll put you on your hands and knees and kneel behind you, giving you all I've got."

And I was supposed to be meek and submissive and let it all happen? Never in a million years. I'd wait my chance and then crush his balls until they were paste. He'd never use them again after I was done with him. I was going to start a collection of bronzed testicles and his would be hanging right next to Chuck's.

There again, he was a very large man. What would it be like if he was as large down there as his overall size suggested. What would it be like to have him just up and fuck me without so much as a by-your-leave? No. It didn't bear thinking about.

The trouble was, the sensual way his hands were massaging my breasts and bottom was making me think about it. I could already feel the heat gathering in my loins, little claws of fire biting into me. My first chance to stop him came when he went to take my t-shirt.

"Lift your arms," he said, and instead of telling him to fuck off I acted like a good little submissive and did so, letting him whisk the t-shirt up and off. This was promptly followed by my bra leaving me naked from the waist up.

Now his mouth came into play, latching onto my beasts. The wetness of his mouth combined with the heat of his breath to send little chills across my breasts. It also caused my nipples to pucker more tightly and the little chills were balanced by needles of heat travelling down inside me.

I didn't even notice when he unclipped my skirt and let it fall. I was watching him drag his mouth across my tummy, going lower. Then he was pushing my panties down out of his way while he kissed my mons and now his hot breath was caressing my vulva. I had to stop this and I had to stop it now.

I was going to tell him to stop. I really was, but his mouth was on my lips and his tongue was doing terrible things to me. Anything I tried to say was totally obscured by the hands I had jammed against my mouth to stop myself screaming. That man had no right to know the spots to touch to cause me to react like that.

He finally stood up, leaving me all of a dither. I was flushed and breathing hard. I tried to calm down, getting ready to tell him off in no uncertain terms. It's one thing to tell yourself to calm down. It's another thing to actually do it when a man's trousers drop and a huge erection jumps out at you.

His hands were heavy on my shoulders, slowly forcing me down onto my knees, and then his cock was right there in front of me, gently waving as he moved. Alright, so maybe if I just gave him a blowjob he'll be satisfied and doing that wouldn't really worry me.

I leaned forward, taking him into my mouth, moving slowly and carefully. (I didn't want to find myself choking, after all.) Then I started on him, head bobbing up and down, maintaining a gentle suction, my tongue and teeth teasing his cock as I worked. I could tell from the hissing sound he made that I was scoring full points.

I kept it up, not trying to make him come but ready for it to happen at any time. Men tend to have rather short fuses for this sort of thing.

I got a hell of a shock when he suddenly pulled loose from my grip and took a step back. Men aren't supposed to do that sort of thing.

"Time to get things moving," he told me, and there was a certain hoarseness in his voice that told me I'd scored a hit. "Turn around and get on your hands and knees."

And just like that it was 'oh my god' time. He seriously expected me to bend over and let him fuck me? Come on - he's a stranger. I've never even seen him before today and now he expects me to fuck him. Didn't he know I was married? Well, of course he did. It was Chuck's stupid boasting that had led to this. It would serve Chuck right if I was all submissive and just let Rob stick his cock in me. His very large cock. What would it be like to have that thing in me, with Rob thrusting away with all that beef of his? I'd have said that the thought was making me feel hot and wet but his earlier explorations had already achieved that. I was totally aroused.

"Go on. Do it," my inner sinner was urging me, while I tried to argue against it. I'm not sure exactly how it happened but my inner sinner somehow or other kicked my feet out from under me. I found myself on hands and knees, looking back over my shoulder with wide eyes as Rob moved closer.

When I felt his cock touching me I snapped my head to face front, blushing furiously. He was doing it and I was letting him. There's still time to stop him I tried telling myself but I knew I was lying. I had no intention of trying to stop him.

I felt my lips yielding to him and then he was moving decisively into me, driving firmly home, his arms coming around me to capture my breasts.

Oh, well, it won't last long, I thought. I weakened him with the oral sex and he's probably ready to blow his cork at any moment.

How wrong I was. He set to at what could only be called a respectable pace, thrusting in happily while my bottom bounced about as I tried to keep up with him. He was also very vocal with what he was doing, telling me how fine I was, what a joy to behold, etcetera. I couldn't help but feel gratified that he found me so pleasurable, so exciting.

He kept going well past the mark that I'd secretly given myself as his endpoint. He didn't even slow down, just banging away, taking his pleasure and lifting me higher at the same time, his cock, hands, and voice all contributing to please me. Finally I knew he was going to have to come as my own climax was approaching on winged feet.

I gave a small scream as I climaxed and he laughed.

"That's one," he said, not even slowing his performance.

So on we went, him having a ball and me being very quickly brought back to the point where a climax wasn't that far off. The rotten man had another trick up his sleeve. He reached around me, his hand sliding over my mons until he reached my slit and then he poked me right next to my clitoris. The shock was too much and I had another climax, also accompanied by a small scream.

"That's two," he said happily, driving in harder than ever.

That second climax must have been what he was waiting for. He started putting in a major effort, bouncing my bottom off his groin at a steadily increasing pace, with me feeling each thrust right down to my toes. Or should that be all the way up to my throat seeing the direction he was moving.

I could feel all my nerves tightening again, another climax looming, and then he hit his finish, ejaculating deep inside me, with his seed providing the oil necessary to let all my tension cut loose, hitting me with my biggest climax (and loudest scream) yet.

We separated, him still talking and praising me to the skies and I have to admit I wasn't averse to listening to him. It's always nice to be appreciated and even nicer when someone tells you that. I cleaned up and Rob carried the toolbox out to the car, refusing to let me do it, claiming it was too heavy. Chuck sure didn't worry if I could carry it or not.

I drove off, hoping that I wouldn't have to see Rob again. Too, too, embarrassing.

- - - - -

I watched Michelle drive off, musing about what had just happened. I'd honestly thought that she'd slap me silly when I started that ridiculous spiel about her being submissive. There had been several points where I could sense she was about to cry foul and start fending me off but for some reason she never actually reached the point of doing so, relaxing and letting me carry on.

It would be interesting to see if she followed my suggestion. While I was busy praising her to the skies I also hinted that she should come back and see me tomorrow. I thought there was an excellent chance that the idea would nag away at her. I could only wait and see, and make sure I was home tomorrow.