Urges

At first, it seemed like a joke. I was merely playing with her assertion that she liked to be dominated. “You WILL meet me at the Bistro Grill on Sable Rd in Stanton. Be there at 11:00 SHARP!” What surprised me was the rush it gave me. By the end of the message, I was nearly seeing red from the raw emotion welling up inside of me. “You will wear RED satin underwear, and a dress or skirt. You will wear a sexy top and your nicest bra.” She had to wear a bra, I knew. There wasn’t even standard lettering for her cup size, so she would need support of some kind. “Make sure your top won’t alarm any nearby families.” I knew that she would comply to the utmost, so it was up to me to make sure she didn’t go too far. Thinking about the scene caused my vision to tinge red again, and my glands decided that was enough concern for the public good. “Failure to STRICTLY follow these instructions will result in severe punishment!”

I was shaky when I stood up from the keyboard. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Her response was swift, arriving before the adrenaline wore off. She didn’t know I could be that assertive. After acknowledging her surprise, she played the proper submissive and promised to follow my instructions. We would meet in less than 24 hours.



I loved my wife, so I couldn’t tell her about my game with Sharon. She wouldn’t have understood, but I was merely playing a game. I knew I wouldn’t step over the line into infidelity. Even so, that night, I could not stop fidgeting. My cheeks felt like they would burst into flame, as I tried to suppress the emotions I set loose earlier that day. I had let loose a beast within, freeing it from its chains. It awoke from its long slumber, and it demanded respect. My bones nearly ached with the need to command.



I arrived at 10:55, and Sharon already had a table. She stood up to give me a friendly hug, leaning into me a bit more than normal and much more than necessary. I told myself that it was the only way she could give me a proper hug, as her breasts really were in the way. It was still suggestive, even if she had intended otherwise, which she hadn’t. I knew that her chest was big, but saying 38DDDD or 40GG or 42H, or whatever her size was that year, was meaningless to me. I never bothered to remember the size when she told me.

“Hi,” she purred. “I hope it’s okay that I’m early.” When she stepped back, I saw that she was taller than I remembered. I always forgot that she was only an inch or two shorter than me, but I missed nothing this time. Her frame was quite a bit softer than when I first met her so many years ago, but it simply made her curvy. I knew she was concerned about her weight, but her form didn’t hurt my eyes any. Her lips were equally full, and I briefly considered kissing them. Her hair was a light brunette, bordering on red, and fell just past her shoulders. I realized that her lingering scent was from her floral shampoo. Her skirt was tan, a suede number that fell just above the knee, looking quite classy and revealing nothing. Her blouse was black with gold flecks that decorated the heavy cotton quite nicely. To my disappointment, I saw that her blouse was fully opaque, completely concealing her otherwise ample cleavage. The neckline, however, hinted at what was hidden below while also highlighting her soft ivory skin. It was early fall and quite warm, and I had fancied that since she was equally excited about today. I expected her apparel would reflect either the temperature or her excitement, so I was unsettled by her choice of clothing.

“Do you like?” she said, motioning to her clothes. Before I could respond, she quietly continued, “I was going to dress sexier, but you said you didn’t want me to draw attention.” It wasn’t what I had actually said at all, but she was definitely not alarming any families. Regardless, her smile had a slyness that started to give me back a measure of my composure. “I’m sorry, but I don’t actually have any sexy bras. I’m wearing the nicest one I have though.” Realizing she was still concerned about following my instructions, I found more of my confidence from the previous day.

“Technically, I only said it had to be your nicest bra,” I said as we slid into our booth. “So, you followed my instructions to the letter.”

“You can’t say that for sure though, can you?” A sly smile spread across her luscious lips. I realized she was talking about her underwear, and my composure began to fade again. What was I doing? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even sure how to play this game, much less what I wanted to achieve. I was suddenly glad for the table between us.

“No, I suppose not,” I answered meekly.

She paused, and her sly smile faded. She eyed me critically. “You know, you can’t really be my master. It isn’t something you can just do part-time, every few weeks.”

Oddly enough, the statement relieved me. We really were just playing. I didn’t need to be in complete control. I managed to force a smile and said, “I know.”

“Now, Evan is more what I’m talking about, but his wife won’t let him be my master. Besides, they live too far away. Have I told you about Evan and Stephanie?”



With that, Sharon launched into her story of Evan and Stephanie, and their liaisons. Her friends were visiting from Atlanta earlier that month, and they discovered, after some drinks, that they shared the same kinks. The rest of their weeklong visit was punctuated by Sharon playing slave to both Stephanie and Evan, although Evan was the master. To Sharon’s disappointment, she was not given any release and was only allowed to service Stephanie. “Neither of them ever touched me. I just had to watch them and play with myself,” she complained. “And lick Stephanie, when she needed to cum.” Both of her friends ordered her about, she explained, but Evan was not allowed to do anything to Sharon. Stephanie kept at least that much power over her man.

The afternoon before they returned to Atlanta, Stephanie went out shopping, leaving Evan alone with Sharon. At first, they just talked, fully clothed, but the conversation soon turned to how Evan was tempted by Sharon. Of course, he wasn’t willing to do anything about it without Stephanie’s approval, but he still told Sharon about what he wanted to do with her given the chance. Seeing her opening, Sharon decided to take her sexual frustrations out on Evan.

“So, you want me?” she asked, slipping out of her seat.

“Yes, but I won’t do anything,” he replied firmly as she advanced.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, as she slid next to his chair.

He paused. As his resolve faded, his answer caught in his throat. “Y- yes.”

Sucking his fingers between her pouty lips, she cooed, “That’s too bad.” When he did not pull away, she stood up and slipped her shirt and bra over her head. Her bosom bounced free, grazing the side of his face as it did. She slid over to the front of his chair and began crawling up his body, while he sat paralyzed. As her breasts slid over his groin, she cast her large brown eyes up into his and asked, “So, are you the master, or is she?”

“I am,” he responded as firmly as he could, though clearly uncomfortable and uncertain about the turn of events.

Through his shirt, she teased his nipples with her tongue before slowly licking her way up his neck and to his chin. “If you say so,” she whispered as she brought her lips to his, gazing into his eyes as the tips of their noses touched, “but you still can’t have these, can you?” She leaned back slightly and then pushed the weight of her breasts up to his face, her nipples flitting briefly past his lips. She shook them gently, and he watched them as if in a trance, his lips parting in hopeful anticipation. Chuckling silently to herself, she withdrew, standing just long enough to seductively push off her pants and underwear before climbing onto his lap. She felt his manhood rigid under his pants, pressing against her naked sex. She slowly shifted her hips back and forth across his lap, grinding herself into his manhood as her tongue slithered around his ear. Finally, she breathed huskily, “I suppose you can’t have the rest of me either, can you?”

With a swiftness that frightened her, he stood up, dumping her to the floor. His discomfort and uncertainty were replaced by a look of pure rage. He grabbed her arm, and literally dragged her to the bedroom, throwing her face down onto the bed. Sharon smiled as Evan’s knee met her back, pushing her further into the bed.