Becca Bellamy
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Inside the Mind of a Dominant Hotwife - Part 5
🕑 Added 2024-04-05 04:38:17 +0000 UTCClick here to read the previous parts of the story.
Distressed. That's probably the right word for it.
For how Walt looked when I returned from my first date with Michael. Distressed. Yes, that's definitely the right word for it.
I expected that's how he'd look. After all, Walt was not enthralled with the idea of his wife going on a date with another man. As you know, his lack of enthusiasm ended up being a source of pleasure for me as I've developed a great appreciation for making Walt do things he'd not entirely thrilled about doing.
If you don't remember, Michael is the man Walt had selected for me. He'd found him on a site filled with women seeking sugar-style relationships with well-to-do men. I still wasn't entirely sure I wanted that kind of relationship - I didn't really care either way - but I liked the idea of dating a man that wasn't interested in a real relationship.
I made every effort to look good for my date. I wore my sexiest red dress. I did my hair and makeup to elicit desire. I wore a pair of heels. Michael had mentioned to Walt that he very much enjoyed women in stockings, so I wore a pair of stockings with my dress, which was short enough to afford me a few opportunities to flash the lace tops of my nylons.
As an aside, it's been so long since I've worn stockings that I forgot how good it can feel when a man caresses those stockings and when his fingers find their lace tops and then dance over my smooth, soft skin. I've forgotten how much certain men seem to enjoy that sensation, too, and Michael is unquestionably one of those men.
As I headed home after the date, I considered how I wanted to handle Walt. Did I want to remain totally silent about the details of my night in a bid to drive him crazy? Did I want to sit him down, unzip his pants, and stroke his cock while I told him everything, driving him crazy in a different way as I filled him with desire and offered him pleasure while telling him all about the fun I had with another man?
I liked that I had choices. I liked that I was in control, that I could do whatever I pleased and that Walt would ultimately - hopefully, at least - offer his submission because doing so brought him pleasure even if the circumstances were somewhat unpleasant.
Walt opened the front door for me before I had a chance to reach for the handle. I hadn't instructed him to do so, but it seemed that he was so eager to greet me that he couldn't help himself.
I stepped into the house, turned so my back was facing him, and Walt took the hint and helped me out of my jacket. He hung it in the closet by the front door as I waited and when he turned back towards me I offered my husband a seductive smile.
He stood and stared. His eyes roamed over my body as if he was searching for any evidence that might indicate how my date had gone. I knew he wouldn't find any, though. It seemed to me that Walt's body hummed - damn near vibrated, in fact - with anxious energy. I imagine that if I'd asked and if he was completely honest, he would have admitted that his hope was that the date had gone horribly wrong.
"Come here," I said.
Walt approached, though I could see the hesitation. When he got close enough, I took his hands and placed them on my waist. I saw some of his apprehension fade as he caressed my hips through the soft material of the dress. I placed my hand over his hand gently moved up my torso, encouraging my husband to touch me.
"Does that feel good?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Would it feel as good if you knew that Michael had touched me in the exact same way tonight?"
Walt looked at his hand, which was remarkably close to my left breast.
"We danced," I said before moving in rhythm to a song playing in my head. Walt moved with me and I pulled him closer. "He led, of course. He moved with grace. It felt good to be in his arms. He's very strong. Very confident, too. It's a subtle thing, but I had this sense that tonight, at least, I belonged in his arms."
"Is he a good dancer?" Walt asked.
I nodded. "Exceptional, really. I imagine it bodes well for what he's like in bed."
Relief washed over my husband's face as I confirmed that I hadn't fucked Michael that night. That relief was followed by a touch of worry, though, as Walt no doubt saw my smile and surmised that there was a decent chance Michael and I would be fucking at some point in the future.
I kissed Walt as those emotions washed over him. At first his lips barely moved, like the kiss was unwelcome. Then he woke up. His lips moved. His tongue danced with mine as our bodies moved in the foyer. His hand moved down my torso and to my lower back. He then grabbed a handful of my ass and squeezed gently through the thin, soft material of my red dress.
More importantly, his cock got hard, which is what I was looking for. I wanted arousal coursing through him. I wanted Walt to associate my date with his desire.
"That was a good kiss," I said.
Walt leaned back and studied my face. "Did you...did you say that to him, too?"
I smiled. "I did."
That distressed look returned. I countered it by caressing Walt's cock through his pants. Pleasure and pain mingled inside him. It's hard to explain just how enthralled I was in that moment as I exerted my newfound power over my husband.
"Come with me," I instructed.
Walt followed as we walked to the living room. I sat, lifted one leg until my dress rode up to reveal the lace tops of my stockings, and then crossed it over my other leg. Walt stared and I saw the bulge in his pants grow just a little.
"I'd like a glass of wine," I said. "Pour one for yourself, too."
He disappeared into the kitchen and I closed my eyes, leaned my head back, and thought of Michael's hand on my leg. It had ventured there multiple times during the evening and each time he'd managed to touch me in a way that generated a wealth of arousal. In that moment, though, I thought of how he'd run his fingers over the delicate lace at the top of my stockings and how he'd done so while kissing my neck. I could still feel his stubble against my skin. I could still hear the way he'd growled - that's really the only way I can think to describe it - as if he were a hungry predator desperate to claim its prey. In another situation it would have been deeply disconcerting to be on the receiving end of that growl, but in that moment I'd felt only a wealth of desire.
"Here you are," Walt said as he returned with two glasses of red wine.
I took mine, sipped it, and then patted the couch cushion next to me. "Sit, my love."
Walt sat and I clinked my glass against his and watched as he took a long, nervous-seeming sip. After swallowing he closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long, slow breath, as if the wine had brought him some sense of comfort in an otherwise stressful evening.
I rested a hand on his knee, leaned in, and kissed my husband on the cheek before asking, "What did you do while I was gone?"
He looked down at his glass, swirled the red liquid, and answered, "Worry, mostly. I did some cleaning. I did the dishes. I paced around the house. I watched a little TV. Mostly, though, I just thought about what you were doing."
"What did you worry about?" I asked. "Specifically, I mean."
He said nothing.
"Did you worry about me kissing another man? Did you worry about Michael touching your wife? Did you worry about me surrendering myself to a dominant man? Did you worry about me getting in his car and sucking his cock while we drove back to his place so he could fuck me?"
My hand traveled up Walt's thigh and between his legs as I talked. His cock had partially deflated, but it took only a small handful of strokes to lure him back to an erect state.
"I worried about those things, yes," he said. "I worried that Michael would be...that your date would go so well that you'd...I don't know, that you'd leave me."
He looked as sweet and vulnerable as he ever had and my instant reaction was to lean over, kiss him on the cheek, and let my lips linger for a few seconds before I said, "You don't need to worry about that, Walt. I'm not going to leave you. Even if Michael ends up providing me with the best sex I've ever had, I'm not going to leave you. I love you."
He turned his head and I saw both hope and fear in his eyes. "Yeah?"
I nodded and kissed him. It was a warm, soft, tender kiss.
"Yes, Walt," I whispered. "I'm not going to leave you." I smiled and added, "Honestly, I'm having far too much fun exploring this new side of myself to even consider leaving you."
I stroked his cock faster and kissed his neck, this time in a decidedly erotic manner complete with a series of soft moans. It had the desired effect of making his dick harder.
"Michael was quite charming. He's better looking than in his pictures, too. He's a good kisser. He's a strong, confident, smart man. He's enormously successful, too. He is, in many ways, the kind of man most women would love to date."
Walt groaned, thought not in a pleasured manner. He groaned because he wasn't exactly thrilled to hear me describe the lovely qualities of my date. I couldn't help but smile.
"Because of this shift in our marriage, I get to date Michael and remain married to you. If things go well, I get to have both a great husband and a great boyfriend. What more could a woman want?"
Walt didn't have a response to that, though I can't say that I was expecting one. What man in Walt's position would have a good response to what I'd said?
"Take your pants off."
Walt stripped dutifully and put a smile on my face in doing so. It hasn't taken long for me to feel a genuine sense of delight - and a hint of pleasure - when he does as he's told without hesitation.
"These too," I added while running my fingers over his underwear. As soon as he was naked from the waist down, I took Walt's cock in my hand and stroked him slowly. I did so while kissing his neck, nibbling his earlobe, and offering moans infused with a wealth of lust.
I stopped only once his cock was coated in precum, the leaking of which I took as a surefire sign of his intense arousal. I played with his balls a little and then wrapped my fingers around the base of his shaft and held them there.
"Michael wants to see me again," I said.
Walt looked at me and silently begged for me to turn down Michael's request for a second date.
"He likes me. I can understand why, too. We had chemistry. Plus, I looked awfully good tonight and I made it perfectly clear that I'm the sort of woman that puts in an effort to look good for a man like Michael."
I stroked Walt's cock as I said it. I offered him pleasure as I talked of looking good for another man.
"He liked that. What man wouldn't, I suppose? Though I think maybe Michael enjoyed the notion more than most men would. He's the sort that believes he's worthy of that kind of effort from a woman. And you know what? He's right, Walt. Michael is the kind of man that's worthy of a woman making that extra level of effort. He's handsome. He's rich. He's confident. He exudes a sense that he's in control, and in the best way possible, like I could simply relax and let him guide us through a wonderful evening."
It's a strange thing to tell your husband about your date with another man. It's not unpleasant, though. Well, for me it wasn't. Maybe it would be for you.
"He was quite complimentary," I continued. "He told me countless times how beautiful I was. When we danced he told me how sexy I was. How irresistible I was. I kissed him soon after."
Walt was hard as a rock, but he was suffering a little, at least based on the looks crossing his face.
"Does it bother you that I kissed another man tonight?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Does it bother you that another man's tongue was in my mouth?" I asked as I stroked his stiff cock.
"Yes," he answered.
"Does it bother you that Michael's hand was on my ass as his tongue was in my mouth?"
Walt nodded.
"Does it bother you that his cock got hard for me as we kissed?"
"Yes," Walt said, a little louder this time.
His dick was still hard as a rock, if not harder. "Does it bother you that I sucked on his tongue like I would have sucked on his cock?"
Walt looked pained. Genuinely pained. It made my pussy wet.
"Does it bother you that I thought about sucking his cock, Walt?"
"Yes!"
I took my hand from his cock. I gathered the droplet of precum from the tip. I took it in my mouth and sucked my finger clean as Walt stared at my lips. I imagine he was thinking about receiving a blowjob, about my lips being wrapped so tightly around his cock.
"There's something about him, Walt," I whispered. "Something about Michael. Something about him that made me a little weak in the knees. Something about him that made me think of sucking his cock in a different way. I thought about how pleasurable it would be to get on my knees for him, to look up at him as I had him in my mouth, to pleasure him as he looked down at me. He's a different kind of man. Different from you. Different from most men I've been with."
I saw something in Walt's eyes I hadn't seen up to that point. Something that struck me as arousal absent any physical stimulation. I think there was a part of him that liked that Michael was the kind of man that legitimately made me want to get on my knees. It was beyond thrilling to see that brief spark of desire in Walt's eyes.
"I agreed to a second date," I said.
I took his cock in my hand and Walt moaned as I worked the head.
"I told him I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant," I said. "I told him I'd wear something beautiful for him, that I'd work hard to look good for him, to be the kind of woman that draws stares when we walk into the restaurant. To be the kind of woman that makes every other man jealous. I want to be that kind of woman for him, Walt."
The arousal was there again, though this time I was jerking Walt off so it was hard to know if that arousal was pure. His dick felt like it got harder, though.
"Do you want me to be that kind of woman for him?"
He shook his head and I couldn't help but smile.
"He wants to buy me a dress. A dress to wear for him. I asked him if I could take you to help me pick it out."
There was a mixture of horror and just a dash of desire on Walt's face.
"He liked that idea. In fact, I'd say that he loved that idea. A moment after I suggested it he kissed me and slid his hand under my dress. To be honest, Walt, I was hoping he'd finger me. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him to feel my wetness, my desire. He didn't, though. I think he was teasing me. I think he knew I was into him, that I craved him at that point. I think he wanted to make sure I still craved him on our second date."
Michael had done an exceptional job of charming me on our date. He'd doled out affection with remarkable skill, too, and had genuinely left me filled with desire for him. I wouldn't have fucked him even if he'd wanted to, but I would have let him finger me.
"I don't like that idea," Walt said.
I smiled. "I know you don't. You're still going to go dress shopping with me. You're going to help me pick out something hot to wear for him. Something classy and sexy. Something that will draw stares. Something that will make him want me. He's going to pay for it, of course, but you're going to do the work of helping me pick it out. You can even dress me before my date."
He shook his head, but Walt knew he'd do exactly as I desired. He liked feeling submissive, even if it was painful sometimes.
"I made a promise, Walt. I told you that you could cum once you'd arranged a good date for me, and tonight was a very good date."
He looked at me with such hope in his eyes and I straddled him. The hope shifted to a mixture of surprise and delight.
I pulled my panties aside and took Walt inside me. I slowly sat down on him and felt his body shudder as he moaned.
"It feels good, doesn't it?" I asked.
He nodded.
"That wetness and heat you feel...that's for him," I whispered.
The agony returned, but Walt's cock was engulfed by my pussy and in that moment there was no great pleasure for him.
"If I'm being honest, Walt, I want to fuck him," I said as I rode Walt slowly. "I want Michael's cock inside me. I want to be in his house, on his couch, sitting in his lap with my dress up around my waist and his big cock buried inside me."
Walt was already close to cumming. A long period of denial and a teasing handjob will do that to a man.
"It's going to happen eventually," I continued. "You found your wife a boyfriend, Walt. You worked hard for it, too. You worked hard to find me a smart, strong, successful, generous man to date. You worked hard for it and now it's going to happen. I'm going to date another man. I'm going to dress up for him. I'm going to do my hair and makeup for him. I'm going to buy naughty lingerie for him. I'm going to suck his cock. I'm going to ride him. I'm going to do everything I can to make him feel good, to be a good girlfriend."
"Emmy...please..."
That's all Walt said before he came inside me. He was probably trying to beg me not to date Michael. It didn't matter, though. He came hard while thinking about me dating and fucking another man and the fact that I lured him into that place was so fucking arousing for me.
That arousal enabled me to cum while I ground my clit into his pelvis as he was cumming. It wasn't quite at the same time, but it was pretty damn close and it felt really damn good.
When it was over, I remained in Walt's lap with his cock inside me and we shared long, slow kisses while I ran my fingers through his hair and told him I loved him.
In the days afterwards he expressed his reticence over my intention to date another man, but each and every time Walt offered his submission when I told him that it was happening and that he needed to stop complaining. Most of the time I had him give me a foot massage or something similar as a way of proving his submission and each time he seemed to enjoy himself. Plus, it made me feel exceptionally good.
Assuming things go well with Michael over our next few days, I will have a generous boyfriend that I can have all sorts of fun with and I'll have a whole new way of dominating my husband, which feels like it's going to pay some truly wondrous dividends as time goes by.
I can't wait to tell you all about it.
