My husband, my sweet, wonderful erotic husband and my dragon sometimes commune with unutterable harmony. Sometimes both are kind, sometimes immeasurably cruel. Today, they took it to a new level.
As the first rays of the weakening autumn sun kissed my body to gentle wakefulness, and my consciousness returned, I felt different. That I was moist did not surprise me as that is my usual state of waking. But deep within me, I felt HER snarl. Anticipating a savage orgasm, I reached into my panties and began to caress myself. SHE, however, had other ideas. SHE denied me my orgasm. I felt the pre-orgasmic contractions begin, only to fail to establish themselves into the back-arching, tremulous, near-death experience that my orgasms can be. Several times, SHE allowed me to the brink, but failed to let me fall into the abyss of utter abandonment.
Frustrated, I showered, dressed and joined my husband at the table for breakfast. He pointedly ignored me, as sometimes he does when he has thought of something special for me. He glanced up from his newspaper and said, almost casually 'Spread your legs' before returning to the stock market pages that occupy him so often.
I obeyed his command, how could I not? He has brought me to plateau's of pleasure that I never dreamed possible, and I am his to command. I felt the thin cotton gusset of my panties stretch across my vagina in a way that was almost mocking. In return, SHE purred her approval as my wetness flooded from me.
Would he order me to masturbate for him in the kitchen? Oh, how I wished he would! For here, on this old, oak table and flagstoned floor I have experienced depravity on a level that cannot be adequately expressed in words.
Instead, after what seemed like an eternity, he folded his paper, stood and walked round behind me. He smiled as he approached. 'I can see your mood today, Helen. I can see by your clothes.' Until then, I hadn't even given much thought to what I had put on, but now, looking at the white blouse, the lack of bra, and the plaid skirt, I realised today SHE had subliminally bid me into role play.
My husband, the centre of my life, the master of my very being reached into my blouse and pinched my right nipple to the point of drawing a gasp from me. 'You will go into the park. You will play on the swings and then, my sweet bitch, you will expose yourself to whoever is there. You will NOT touch yourself.'
He led me to the car and drove me to the park, where I obeyed him. I felt like a teenager again playing on the swings as he ordered me. Throughout SHE purred between my legs, and my clit began to throb.
Then, at his signal I walked to the bench and sat there. My husband had me place my hands on the backrest of the bench and I felt the silken caress of rubber as he bound my wrists. 'You will wait. You will show the next person who comes near this place your wetness. You will let them do what they will with you, even if that be nothing.'
For over an hour I sat, bound to the bench, but looking to all intents and purposes as if I was merely soaking up the last of the autumn sunshine.
Then, she came, a woman. How old? Oh, I would say mid 20s, certainly no older. She smiled at me and I returned it with warmth and she sat on the bench opposite. Almost casually, I spread my legs, nothing too obvious or quick, or my punishment would have been severe from both my husband and my dragon. I saw her look, then look again. She stared at me and put down her book. For a moment, I thought she was going to come to me and admonish me, but instead she merely stared. She looked hard between my legs and it was as if her looks physically touched me. Almost at each blink, I felt as if those eyelashes fluttered against my sex. I felt myself approaching orgasm.
And she left. She just stood, smiled at me, and walked off, leaving me teetering on the edge of a cliff over which I was almost too terrified to fall.
Then came the young man. 18, perhaps 19? I neither knew nor cared. Again, my slow revelation and again his hypnotic stare, ah, but this time so much more. He glanced around and finding himself alone and assured that no-one was within sight, he got out his cock. The thrill between my legs became an ache. Using every ounce of my mental energy, I willed him to approach me, to pull the material of my panties aside and thrust himself onto me. Instead, he began to stroke himself, long, full length strokes, while my vagina wept her frustration into my panties.
His pace quickened, as did my heartbeat. Would my husband approach him and encourage him to use me? No, all was quiet, but I knew he would be watching. My dragon knew too, that today, I would not be allowed contact with another.
The guy's face flushed red as his pace increased still further, I spread my legs almost painfully wide in encouragement. I strained my wrists against my bonds.
And then, Oh, and then I saw that exquisite moment as he opened his mouth into a perfect 'O' and arched his back. Strong jets of semen spurted from him onto the grass and then, in reward for my patience, my dragon allowed me my release in perfect timing with his. Each ejaculation caused a tremor of orgasm to rip through me, each one stronger than the last until the sky splintered into shards of colour and my world fell apart.
When I regained myself, the man had gone, and my wrists were now free. My husband had gone too, along with our car leaving me a two mile walk home.
I became aware that I had not only cum, but had peed my panties, such was the strength of the release.
On my lap, a note. 'You will remove your panties and leave them on the bench. If, on your walk through the park you meet anyone, male or female, you will make yourself available to them.'
As my feet crunched upon the gravel of our driveway, I felt so alive, so liberated.
In the house, my husband gently eased me to the floor of our hallway, and there, in the secret place of my sex, he found the reason why it took me two hours to walk home.