Warning! Adult sexual content. You must be of legal age in your country to read this blog. And don’t proceed if you don’t want to know …
“Come dressed for dinner” he invited.
“Dressed for dinner?” I thought. “What does that mean?” He usually undressed me before we got anywhere. I texted back “I’d love to! Dress up or down?”
“The black thing.” He responded.
Ah. We WERE going out after dinner. At the Club.
Since I lived on the other side of town, I raced home from work to shower and change into a sexy little black dress. It was made for dancing. My shoulders curved under its sleeveless straps into nicely tanned biceps. The dress back dipped down in waves of material below to my waist. a web of straps intricately displayed behind my shoulder … but it wasn’t part of the dress. It was part of the bodice below. Black strappy platform sandals showed off my deeply tanned legs and runner calves. My right ankle looked graceful in silver and black diamond jewelry … a gift from Andrew* at the same time he gave me the Pandora bracelet on my left wrist.
I rang the doorbell.
“Come on in” he invited me with a smile and a spoon in his hand. Andrew looked so decidedly masculine with his gorgeously tousled hair, stormy gray eyes, and tall athletic body. Even in bare feet, he towered over me in my heels. We were really having a romantic dinner. He was the perfect host and boyfriend.
I followed him into the kitchen with my bag of goodies. I wasn’t sure what he culinary skills were, so … I preplanned and arranged for cooked lobster.
I should have known he had dinner under control. Prime rib, al dente vegetables and a carefully selected red wine. I dropped my lobster on the counter. He pulled a bottle of champagne out of the fridge and said “Excellent. We are covered until Sunday brunch.”
I shivered. We’d club tonight and spend the next 24 hours in bed. My favourite way to spend the weekend. He’d read the paper while I snuggled up to his side. There would be a question & answer period to see who had to make coffee. I usually “lost” but he’d make me breakfast in bed. Saturday dinner would be in jammies in front of the TV. Our legs intertwined.
Andrew leaned over to kiss me and stroke my shoulder.
“You look beautiful.” he said.
He picked me up and placed me on his kitchen counter and held my face in both of his hands. Both thumbs caressed my cheeks as we leaned into each other and reconnected. Silence. My thighs spread apart to welcome him closer.
His fingers caressed the length of my inner thighs and curled up around my black lace g-string to pull… as if to question why I was wearing it at all. I rolled on to one cheek and shifted a leg so he could pull it off.
Our kiss deepened. He reached over and turned everything else on the stove off. Our fire was stoked enough. Andrew undid his belt and his pants and lowered his underwear. He grabbed my butt and pulled me forward as he entered me. My head rolled back as I groaned.
“You want this, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes.” I moaned.
Slowly and thoroughly, he fucked me.
“Don’t forget who you belong to tonight.”
We finished up in the kitchen, ate dinner and redressed. I refreshed my makeup and straightened the straps to my strappy bodice. Leather criss-crossed my body and surrounded my waist. My breast were full and free. I asked Andrew if I should put my g-string back on but he said “Leave it off.”
He told me he had a gift for me. Andrew left me for a second and returned. When he opened a velvet box … I was presented with a beautiful black and diamond collar. My name was etched on a tiny tag that dangled in front with a teardrop diamond. He kissed me and took it out of the box. I lifted my hair so he could clasp it closed at the back of my neck.
He leaned back and looked. Satisfaction.
“Ready to go?” He put out his hand and rubbed my bottom lip with his thumb. He helped me down from the counter. We’d clean that mess up later tomorrow.
Andrew got my coat and we got in the sportscar for a drive to the suburbs.
The Club was in full swing. We arrived, valet parked the car and walked in. Andrew peeled off my coat to reveal my sexy dress at the door. As I walked away from the entrance, you got a sense of the naughtiness beneath. My back revealed the bondage below.
We drank more wine. We danced. We had eyes only for each other. Andrew loved watching the curve of my ass below the swish of the dress. Eyes followed us … but I only had eyes for him. He toyed and played with me all night. As is the right of the submissive … I played back because that’s what he wanted tonight. I really had the power.
We flirted like flames … soft, brief touches. I stood in front of him and looked up as his hand ran down my back.
“Next time, I’m bringing a leash.” he said, and curled his finger in my diamond studded collar. The guy next to us was intrigued.
“Yes please,” I replied.
Andrew had enough and hailed the doorman to get our car. Home in 35 minutes. The dress came off. The collar and bodice didn’t. I did everything he asked of me in his room. The cuffs. The collar. The rough sex.
Submission isn’t about someone else’s control. It’s about your own. I was happy to hand the reins to the man I loved and trusted. We explored give & take, Dominant and submissive, sex outside the box. I never once did anything I didn’t want to, although he sure tested me a few nights.
I didn’t feel used like I did in my marriage. Andrew always put me on a pedestal and made sure I was properly loved. I gave everything back to him.
He left me in the middle of the bed to grab us bottles of water and a soft cloth. My body was cooled and wiped down, sore from the hours of sex with him.
Andrew sank onto the bed beside me and reached into his bedside table.
He handed me another black box.
Read Part Two in the Ace of Spades.
*Name(s) changed to protect the guilty!
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© Lisa Jobson 2017