My wife, Janice, and I had a deal. On alternate months we would each have a "turn" to play out a sexual situation of our choosing. The only restriction was that we both had to be involved. The first two chapters describe what happened during Janice's "turn". Now it was my "turn".
All week I thought about what kind of sexual adventure I wanted for the coming "my turn" weekend. One thing for sure; it would involve another woman, not another man. Yet I acknowledged to myself that giving control to a third party had been an incredible turn on for me. The solution was obvious. I would see if I could arrange a three-way with a dominatrix.
Thursday evening over cocktails I broached the subject with Janice. "I have decided what I want for 'my turn'. But I have no idea how to pull it off."
My wife was immediately all ears. "Oh? Well, maybe I can help you. What would you like my darling?"
"I want us to give power and control to another woman, one who will put us both through our sexual paces, and take her pleasure in the process."
"You mean a dominatrix."
I smiled. "I think that is what such women are called. Do you happen to know any?"
She was thoughtful. "As a matter of fact I have heard some gossip about a small spa downtown where the proprietress has impressed some clients as being a little too bossy. One woman I know told me that she is afraid to go there alone. But another woman, who I know goes there a lot, poo-pooed that idea and said she enjoyed the hell out of her sessions. The place closes at 6 PM, but people have observed lights on late in the evening. The proprietress is said to be very attractive."
"Umm.. perhaps you could pay a visit to this place."
"Absolutely. I will go there tomorrow."
"You are truly a dear wife."
"Hey. It's your turn. I had my fun last weekend."
"You will have fun during my turn too, just like I did during yours."
"That is why we are married," she said, grinning from ear to ear.
**
The next day I had great difficulty concentrating on my work. What would Janice report when I got home? If this spa woman really was a dominatrix, would I really be willing to submit to her? What kinds of things would she do to me? And to my wife?
I arrived home at my usual time, and Janice met me at the door with a gin and tonic. "Here you are darling," she said, handing me the drink. "I think you are going to need this."
"So you went to the spa!" I exclaimed with great expectations.
"I did indeed. People are supposed to make an appointment to go there, but the proprietress was not busy and let me in. She is a woman of about 40, as sexy a creature as I have ever laid eyes on--dark hair, hour glass figure, firm tits, long legs, and a look in her eyes that says she would like to devour you."
"How was she dressed?"
"Tight black pants, equally tight camisole, ankle high soft leather boots."
"Yum... Were you able to broach the subject?"
"Let's sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."
We went into our living room and I sat on the couch. My gin and tonic was almost gone already, and so was hers. "Let me freshen our drinks first," Janice said, delighting in stringing out the process that she knew had me on edge.
I waited patiently until she returned, knowing that she would not be acting this way unless she had good news. She took a seat facing me, and we clinked glasses.
"The woman, whose name is Sylvia, asked me why I had come. I told her I had heard from some friends that her place was unusual and that they really liked coming. She gave me a long look and said 'Some women, and men, do like coming here'. The emphasis was on the word 'cumming'."
"Jesus! She didn't waste any time."
Janice smiled. "No, she didn't. I had expected to have to dance around the real reason for my visit and wasn't prepared for her direct approach. She must have sensed something in me and felt free to voice that kind of innuendo. I didn't know what to say. My face must have been red, because she told me not to be embarrassed and asked if I would like a massage."
I sipped my drink, not wanting to interrupt, my expression urging Janice to go on. Already I was hard as a rock. My wife was enjoying my reaction and moved closer to me on the couch.
"You would have been proud of me, Charles. I dropped my eyes and said 'yes please'. She told me to go into the massage room and take off as many items of clothing as I was comfortable with, and then lie on my stomach on the table."
"Wow. So how much clothing did you take off?'
"Everything but my panties."
"Nice."
"She put on some Mid-Eastern music and told me to relax. I closed my eyes and felt warm oil being dribbled down my spine. Then her hands went to work, slowly and softly at first, then stronger, over my shoulders, down my sides, back up to my neck. I told her that felt good, and I wanted her to do my legs also."
"Ahh.."
"Immediately she poured oil on the backs of my thighs and began kneading the flesh. Without thinking I sighed and opened my legs a little. That apparently removed any doubt she might have had about what I wanted. She paused, then leaned down and whispered in my ear. "You've heard about me, haven't you?" she said.
"What did you say to that?"
