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Introduction:

My friend's story
My friend's story

Rick's WIFE 3 (3 of 6)
For several weeks, our life went on pretty much as normal.
Linda had resisted my attempts to have HIM identified. My feelings
had been a little hurt since I felt that her reticence implied that
I somehow could not be trusted to let the incident drop. I think
I could have gotten her to tell me if I had been more persistent,
but I had suddenly realized that his anonymity contributed to the
eroticism of the fantasy for me, and I stopped pushing the issue.
As for Linda, it took a few days for me to fully convince her
that not only was everything alright between us, but that I had
immensely enjoyed the game. She had offered to stop now rather
than risk any problems between us, but I had reassured her that it
had been a tremendous turn-on for me. Our mutual understanding was
that there had been no loving at all, only sex, between them. I
told her that I was ready for "part two." Grinning, she had
squeezed my buttocks, winked, and said, "You think so, huh?" Jeez!
On a Thursday night, about three weeks after the "fling," as
we euphemistically referred to it, Linda was washing some pots and
pans while I dried.
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pressed her up
against the sink, and gently began to move my hips and groin
against her bottom. As ever, she pushed her buttocks back against
me and followed my rolling, grinding motion (I believe that
kitchens were created by god for this particular kind of play. The
preparation of food, etc., is only a secondary function).
"I need you to stop at the store on your way home from work
tomorrow," she said.
"Sure. What do we need?" My cock was rigid and rubbing
firmly in the crack of her ass. I had stopped moving, but she had
continued the motion, rising on her toes and then slowly settling
down. I cupped her breasts from the outside of her t-shirt.
"A bag of cotton balls, some masking tape and a few other odds
and ends," she said matter-of-factly.
My ears suddenly pricked up. It was not lost on me that the
"fling" had happened on a Friday. Three weeks ago to the day, in
fact. But cotton balls and masking tape? Bondage....? We already
had a small stash of "restraining" toys. Hmmm. Interesting.
I turned her around and held her by her shoulders.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a little surprise
you might have in store for me tomorrow, would it?" I asked.
"Darling, if I told you the truth, you wouldn't get a good
night's sleep. You're like a child on Christmas Eve."
She was right. I didn't.
I didn't accomplish a damn thing at work on Friday. I had
butterflies in my stomach for most of the day. I left a little
early (boss' prerogative), and made it home by 6:15 after stopping
for the "items" needed.
Linda's car was in the driveway. So she was home this time.
Opening the front door, I stepped in and looked around. The house
was immaculate. Since Linda and I were both professionals and had
little time for housework, we employed a cleaning service during
the week. But when she did have the time, Linda was meticulous in
her work. This was her doing. There was a gorgeous flower
arrangement on the living room mantle and a roaring fire below.
Linda stepped around the corner and smiled.
She took my breath away. She wore a full length powder-blue
evening dress that was dangerously low-cut, her best pearl
necklace, heels and a pretty white bow in her hair. She ran and
hugged me like we hadn't seen each other in a month. We kissed
like newlyweds.
"Hi, sexy!" she said with a grin.
"Darling, I'm absolutely stunned. You've outdone yourself.
"Well, it did take a little work. I'll take that bag.
Everything's here?"
"Everything you ordered."
"Dinner will be ready by the time you finish showering. Don't
dress up when you're done. Wear your normal slobbish attire."
I grinned. "As opposed to YOUR normal, slobbish attire?" I
asked, taking another look at my gorgeous wife.
"Just do as you're told tonight, Peter. Be a good boy."
She hugged me again, and whispered "I love you" in my ear.
"I love you, too." I said, and went up to shower.
I quickly showered, put on a pair of corduroy slacks, a
sweater and my loafers. We dined on poached salmon with dill sauce
accompanied by an extra-fine German white. Dessert was a simple
bowl of chilled, fresh raspberries in cream. I poured myself a
brandy, and we moved to the living room.
I settled on the couch and began to sip the 50 year old
liqueur. Linda sat on the floor between my feet with her legs
curled up under her.
"Well," I said. "I'm coming to appreciate your fantasies more
each time."
"I'm glad, sweetheart. There's a bit more to come, though.
You may want to withhold judgement until the end of the night."
The brandy's golden burn in my throat and stomach had begun to
relax every muscle in my body. I felt ready for anything.
"We need to talk, dear," she said suddenly. Uh-oh.
"You do remember our understanding and agreement, don't you?
This is my fantasy, and I expect you to cooperate in every way."
She moved up to her knees to look into my eyes.
"Whatever happens, remember that I love you, and ONLY you,"
she said slowly, those emerald green eyes boring into my soul.
"Remember to relax, to let things play out. Most of all, you must
do as you're told. Do you understand and agree?"
Here come the butterflies. "Yes, babe. This is your night.
Let's be decadent and naughty," I said, holding her hands in mine.
She looked searchingly into my eyes for a long time. I think
she found the trust that was there and that she was looking for,
because she smiled, rose and kissed me on the forehead.
"Don't move. I'll be right back." she said lightly.
She returned a moment later with a blindfold, the cotton, and
the tape.
"You're not going to be able to see anything that happens
tonight. I know how visually stimulated you are. I'm sorry, but
I'm hoping that, if things work out like I think they will, you
won't miss your eye-sight." She placed the cotton gently over my
eyes, then the blindfold. The cotton cut off that little area just
under my eyes along the bridge of my nose that I had always been
able to peek through before. The tape held the blindfold and
cotton firmly in place.
"Your brandy snifter is full. Relax and enjoy it. Let me
know if you need a visit to the restroom, and I'll help you." She
snickered. "Things should begin in about 10 minutes, as soon as
our guests arrive."
"Guests? Did you say guests? I'm sure I distinctly heard you
say 'guests.'"
"That's right. Guests. You know, like in visitors. Now
relax. Gee, I wonder what's going to happen?"
I grinned. "You are the naughtiest, most conniving little
tease!"
The "guests" must have been early, because the doorbell rang.
Linda leaned down and whispered, "Enjoy, babe. Remember that I'm
still your wife tomorrow and after."
I heard her move to the door and open it. Muffled voices.
Footsteps. Two pair? Three? Movement around me. Other noises.
Then quiet. A cough. A male cough. Thank God for the brandy!
I felt amazingly comfortable considering I was sitting blindfolded
in front of total stranger(s) in my own home.
"Good evening, Peter. It's a pleasure to meet you, although
these are somewhat interesting circumstances. My name is William."
His voice was very deep. It had that self-assured quality I
associate with my peers who have, and are used to wielding, power.
"I've had the pleasure of meeting your wife once before, but
I can assure you it was a purely friendly meeting. In fact, it was
to arrange this little get together. By the way, there are four
people in this room. You, your wife, myself and my wife. My
wife's name is Breigha. While it makes little difference what my
profession is, I can tell you that my wife is a very good
photographer, and that she has all of her equipment here tonight."
"The details of how and why your wife contacted us are also of
little relevance. I assume Linda will answer all your questions at
a later time."
"So. Where to begin? I am here at your wife's bequest. It
appears that we are going to get somewhat friendly and intimate
over the next few hours. I understand that you will cooperate and
do as you're told. I appreciate that and will expect it from you
and from Linda. Our first ground rule is that no-one, other than
myself, will speak in this room unless spoken to first. Do we have
agreement?" I nodded. I heard Linda say "yes."
"Good. Your wife has determined the general outline of what
will happen tonight. I have a very deep appreciation for her
imagination, as well as for her good looks and intelligence.
You're a lucky man, Peter. What she has not determined, however,
are the many details that, as I'm sure you realize being the
professional you are, make all the difference. In that respect,
she will be as much in the dark, so to speak, as you." Ha. Funny.
"Good. The "general outline" is as follows. First,
everything that takes place will be photographed by my wife in
great detail for your and Linda's viewing pleasure down the years,
although I would suggest keeping it out of the family album." The
guy was a riot.
"That is the extent of my wife's participation. Second, I am
going to make love to your wife, Peter. It will be an honor and a
pleasure, I assure you. Your job, tonight, is to assist me. Not
to participate, per se, but to make Linda more "available," more
"easily accessible," shall we say. Things will become clearer, I
promise. I must tell you that although I consider myself bisexual,
there will be no direct sexual activity, as such, between you and
I. At least hardly any."
Right. THAT statement took the ambiguous prize.
"Thirdly, your wife has requested that I use graphic and
explicit language. She is, as many people are, aroused by it. But
you know that. I only mention it so that you aren't shocked."
"Finally, Linda here has pretty much given me free reign as
far as the kinds of pleasantries we will indulge in. 'Anything
goes,' I believe were your words, yes?"
"Yes," I heard Linda say. Her voice had a quiver in it.
"I'm glad. I think I'm going to enjoy this as much as you and
Peter. We all understand, then, that this is purely a little
sexual adventure for everyone. That afterward, my wife and I
return to our world, and both of you to yours. I do not expect
either of you to ever contact us again. Although that may be a
shame, it's necessary. On a final note before we begin, I have to
tell you that I have rarely met a woman more in love with her
husband than Linda is with you. Did you know that, Peter? How
much she loves you?"
I nodded, a little embarassed and not knowing if anyone was
even looking at me.
"All right. Breigha, darling, you may begin setting up.
Linda, would you be so kind as to fetch me a glass of scotch? Just
a little ice, please. Thank you. Are you comfortable, Peter?"
"I'm okay," I mumbled. I could feel the heat from the
fireplace as various sounds I interpreted as "camera setting up"
noises came from the other side of the living room. I had heard
Linda pick up my empty snifter beside me and, as she passed by, she
had put her hand on mine for the briefest of moments. The alcohol
put me in a mellow haze, made time slow down, and made the
acceptance of what was about to happen much easier than if I had
not been drinking.
Well, I thought, drop your socks and grab your .... Here we
go on another lovely little roller-coaster ride.
1 comments

anonymous readerReport

2013-02-01 03:39:15
ITA with you! Rob is so sexy, schmexy in a suit. Just wtaniig for BD promo tour to see more of it....When I saw the pics with Rob between the two guys I had an idea. Want to play a little game? Here we call it "Where is the error?" Compare Rob with the others and find out what's different:- they're all in black suits- Rob with tie, the others with bow tie- sexy Rob, the others.... (sorry guys)And I miss a small detail at Rob that I know we all would love to see... may be one day... day dreaming is allowed.C'mon girls!!

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