I've agreed to be totally honest about this. This is difficult because, while I'm not embarrassed about this (If anything, quite the opposite) to do this justice I have to be a great deal more explicit that I would normally prefer. I prefer to flirt, both with men and with the details of my adventures. It seems much more appropriate to say I spent the night with someone than to say specifically what we did. I will try to overcome this as I tell you what happened. If I seem to be skirting something, you have to be willing to interrupt me with questions. I may evade, but I will never lie. Anyway, with that in mind, the story really begins on a Friday night a few months back. The Chief, my affectionate name I gave my husband, had some friends over. I was getting in late from a conference and it was clearly his party. I knew nearly everyone there, but they were his friends. I came in about 10:00 that night. I'd slept on the train, so I was still fairly fresh. There they all were in the dining room, playing cards. The Chief gave me a big hug when I came in and carried my suitcase up to the bedroom. I washed my face and slipped out of my travel clothes into the kind of thing I normally hang around the house in, a shirt of the Chief's and tights (white and blue respectively.) I'd eaten so I just nibble at the snacks and watched them play. I stood or sat behind the Chief and one or two of the other players seemed to have trouble focusing on their cards. I'd been behaving myself for the past few days and this tickled me. Thinking to myself, It's all in a good cause (the Chief's winnings) I would stretch or walk around or occasionally pick things up off of the floor. They seemed to enjoy it and I certainly did. Around midnight about half of the crew left and when the game had gotten down to 4 players, I sat in and became a fifth. They were betting quarters mostly and I sat down with around $20 and began to play. I was about $5 ahead when I began to lose steadily. One of the other players ran out of money and left. That had been the pattern. When you ran out of the money you had on the table, you were done. This gave the game a quality that the Chief described as friendly. There were limits on how fast you could raise, there were limits on the number of raises, and what they described as table stakes. No checks, no I.O.U.s, no big debts. The game had gone on for a couple of years, losing very few players and the 'friendly' atmosphere was probably responsible. So, here I am down to about $5.00 and another player went bust and left. I'd lost about 8 hands in a row. I started trying to bet conservatively until I felt my luck change. That helped me outlast one more player who also left. It was about 1:30 in Saturday morning now. I lost all but my last dollar betting on a full house of Queens and fives. It seemed like a conservative, safe bet, but here I was down to 4 quarters. One went into the pot for my ante and I picked up a pair of kings. There were 2 quarters in raises to me which I covered and I found myself looking at a third king and two aces in my draw. I bet the quarter I had left, the Chief raised one quarter (He'd drawn three cards) and J, the other player raised one. So, here I was with a winning hand and nothing left to bet. Or was I really down to nothing. I grinned at J, moved my eyes to the Chief and somehow or other managed to say with a straight face, I'll cover the pot with my shirt if I lose.

The Chief was drinking something as I said. How he managed to not spray it all over the cards, I'll never know. He was close to losing it. When I say losing it, I mean laughing, not being angry. He seemed to see this as just one more of my flirtings which rather than growing resigned to, he has come to enjoy over time. J on the other hand was less amused than aroused. He looked at The Chief and when he saw that it was ok with him, merely smiled and said that it was more than ok with him. The Chief couldn't speak yet, but waved at us to show it was ok with him too. I won. Gathering in the quarters, I was back in business, and my shirt had not so much as lost a button. It was my deal and we continued playing. I can't say for sure, but J seemed to be playing 'for blood' if that's the right phrase. He seemed very anxious to win from this point on. I don't think the Chief noticed. By the time it was the Chief's deal, I was back down to 4 quarters. So this time I look at my cards and I find 2 queens and 2 sevens. I drew one card, and when I ran out of coins, I made the same bet. This time J has a flush, clubs. The Chief is not having an "I'm gonna choke in a second" problem this time, but is quite amused. I stand up, turn my back to them and unbutton the Chief's shirt and slowly turning around, drop it on the pot. J reaches for the coins and the shirt without looking at his hands, and then realizing that his stare is locked on my chest, he looks up and makes eye contact with me. "I think I owe you some change" J says, and gives me 10 quarters. I liked the look in his eyes as he fought to maintain control. I also like that he was able to make eye contact with me while my breasts fought for his attention. I sit back down and wait for the Chief to stop laughing and deal. Its hard to concentrate on cards when you're half naked. J seemed to be able to maintain his focus fairly well under the circumstances. I lost two hands straight, one to the Chief and one to J. On the third hand I drew three fives. I ended up betting what change I had left and then drawing 2 cards. I got an Ace and a six. J opened up with 2 quarters. When they looked at me, I said that I'd cover their bets with my tights (the only blessed thing I was wearing). The Chief puts in 2 quarters and then raises J 4 more. J sees that and raises 2 more. "Don't worry, you still have change coming." J assures me. The Chief calls and J wins with a full house of twos and aces. The boss had a jack high straight. They both looked away from the cards on the table and looked at me. This was, while interesting, not the way I'd imagined it going. I stood again, turned my back to them and pulled the tights off. Turning around ever so slowly (toward J, giving him a full view of my front, he'd won after all) I dropped my tights in the pot and sat back down. Sitting back down was almost as good as covering myself with a towel. My breasts were still exposed, but at least part of me was, sort of, covered. J gathered in the pot, and again handed me 10 quarters. He collected the cards, shuffled, and after the Chief's cut, dealt another hand. What? How was this effecting me? Hmmm. Well, I was a bit uncomfortable, but at the same time, excited. There was this interesting combination of danger and safety in the situation. I was with my husband; I was in my own house; and I was naked in the presence of J who I had known for some time, but before this, the most flirtatious I'd been was to sit on his lap and kiss his cheek at a party. I'm sorry, I didn't ...? Oh. Well, yes, I was wet. I was excited enough that I could tell I was wet. Yes, I could feel it. No I didn't touch myself at all, it wasn't that intense that I HAD to touch myself, but I was quite aroused. So, anyway, I'm sitting here, completely naked and we begin playing. I win a hand, and then lose two. I end up with two pair again and the pile gets too big for the change I have left. Now both of them had picked three cards. That means that they drew having only a pair each. I'm feeling that this might be a good time to try and recoup my losses. I tell them that I want to raise one more time, but that I want J to cover the bet with my shirt if I win. J wants to know what I'm betting. I look at his eyes, staring right through him and say that The Chief is going out of town next weekend and that I'll cook dinner for him, dressed this way on next Friday night. The Chief wants to know what he gets if he wins. I tell the Chief that he can pick a night for dinner and I'll cook him what he wants dressed the same way. The Chief considers this for a moment and decides that's fair. J wants to know what else comes with dinner. I swear it just jumped out. I hadn't thought of this prior to that moment. I told J that I'd go down on him for desert.

The Chief started laughing again. "Just how many Aces do you have in that hand?" He chortled. J piled my shirt up on the pot and said, "That seems more than fair." The bastard had drawn a third card to his pair. The Chief later told me that I blushed all the way down to my nipples. How did the Chief react? Mostly amused. He knows that even if I do something really outlandish, I'm just looking for attention, not upset with him. Without going into details, I've done things in the past that would show him that it's him I love and am devoted to, even if I do things that raise the odd eyebrow. One of my, still unfulfilled, fantasies is to have The Chief be cross when I do something really beyond the pale and that he will take me over his knee, spank me, force me to go down on him, and then take me, without letting me get completely undressed. So, anyway, I'm here blushing and the Chief gets up and goes into the kitchen for something to drink. J can't decide whether to be horrified or terribly pleased with himself. Finally, he asks me, "Do I just get one dessert?" Well, that did it. I told him, only one, unless he wants to try for a double or nothing. I suggest he can stay the weekend or have me come to his house if he wins and I'm off the hook if I win. He cuts the cards and shoves the deck at me. I pull up a 10. He pulls out a queen. Now, I'm a firm believer in the law of averages. I know the odds on losing a high card cut are the same each time you do it. I also know in the long run they average out. The Chief is still in the kitchen. I can hear the ice maker running. Want to try again? I asked J. His eyes bug out just a touch. He glances at the kitchen door and the Chief is still too far away to hear us. I say, I've agreed to stay like this all weekend and to go down on him. What would he want to try double or nothing again? He gets this odd look on his face and says, "I've always wanted a totally obedient sexual slave. Become that for the weekend if I win and you're off the hook if you win." Now, I don't claim to be quoting exactly. It as late. I was tired, and I was certainly distracted myself. I shuffled the cards and held them out to him. He drew a card and grinned. He showed me a Jack of diamonds. I felt a sudden flush go through me. I could feel myself get moist and the feeling that was somewhere between arousal and panic came over me. I picked a card. I looked at it and found myself looking at an eight of diamonds. J actually licked his lips for a moment. Before the Chief came back, J stared straight into my eyes and said, "Be exactly like this waiting for me at 5:00 on Friday. When I knock on the door, open it like this."

So I'm sitting here at my dining room table. My shirt and tights are in the chair next to J along with his other winnings. My bottom is slowly taking on the pattern of the chair I'm sitting on because there's nothing between me and it. This has definitely not turned out the way I'd planned. I can't believe I lost both double or nothings. I went from cooking and serving a meal in the buff (OK, and giving J a blow job for desert) to a whole weekend as a, how did he put it? "Obedient sexual slave." The Chief was mostly amused at my losing the first bet. I don't know how to tell him (or if I should tell him) about the rest. About now the Chief comes back in with a tray with some coffee cups & cookies on it. He sets it down turns to me and says, "Unless you still have something to bet, I expect we're through." Luckily I'm still blushing or the flush I could feel would have given something away. This has definitely gotten out of hand. J, with great ceremony, returns my shirt, which I put on while we eat our cookies and drink the coffee. J and The Chief go to the living room. I follow, and sit v-e-r-y carefully (J only gave back the shirt). After the cookies are gone and J is making the "I'm on my way out" motions, he stops and asks me what time dinner is on Friday. "Seven," I stammer. "That would be wonderful," he says. He gathers up his winnings, returns my tights to me, kisses me on the cheek and saying goodbye to the Chief, leaves. "Well you surely know how to spice up a low stakes card game." The Chief tells me as we go up to bed. "You don't know the half of it!" I think to myself. Anyway, I didn't hear from J until Wednesday. He called me during the day and wanted to know if we were still on for Friday. I could feel myself redden. I duck my own embarrassment by answering only the question he asks. I reply that sure, we're on or something like that. As I sit there listening to him, I'm breathing faster, becoming anxious, and at the same time, becoming quite horny. I've been putting this out of my mind as if I couldn't quite believe that he'd appear or that anything would happen. His voice disturbs that. While I'm dealing with these emotions, he tells me quietly that I don't have to have him come over. Not sure how to react, I heard myself tell him that it was fine. Taking a deep breath, I tell him that I always pay off my debts.

He said something then. I was sufficiently distracted that I'm not sure of the exact wording, but he says, "You don't do this because you lose a bet. If you want me to come over, it should be because you want me to, not because you have to." Well, that messed up my head. I actually hear myself telling him that I want him to come over. A part of it is that it seems like cheating to just duck out on my bet. A part of me really wants to know what J would want from a sexual slave, other than the obvious. I also realize a part of me is anxious to have it happen. Time seems to hang still. I imagine myself parading around in front of him with nothing on; I imagine his desire as he watches me; I get horny in anticipation of the way his gaze will make me feel. I realize on a conscious level that I want this to happen to me. I realize that I want to have this experience. He asks me if seven is still good. I told him yes. He then asked me if I remembered how I was supposed to answer the door. I knew what he meant. I told him yes. He told me, "O.K. It's a date," and said goodbye. I stood there holding the phone for a long moment.

The Chief went off on his trip. I spent Friday seeing that the house was clean. I changed the sheets on our bed even though it wasn't the normal day. At 5 in the afternoon, I took a long bath with scented bath oil. I did my hair and all of the other things I'd do before something important. when I was done, I put on a lose robe and went down stairs. I started dinner about six. My mind spun between visions of being savagely (well passionately) taken repeatedly on my living room floor, and a terribly sophisticated dinner during which I just happened to be nude. I had everything more or less ready at about quarter of seven. That's when I took off the robe. I'd been horny all afternoon, horny and apprehensive. Taking off the robe seemed to send a shot of something through me. I hung up the robe, looked at myself in the full length mirror, noticed appreciative the lack of elastic marks from panties or a bra, and went down to be near the door when he drove up. I was almost in the living room when the door bell rang.

I should probably say a little more about J before I go much farther. I've known J probably a couple of years now. Not well, mind you, but I've known him. He's been part of The Chief' card game group for the whole time. I only play cards with them every couple of months, and then J was only a face in the crowd most of the time. His face was well worth looking at, and I'd flirted with him on more than one occasion. The other thing that I noticed about J was that he was always ... a nice guy. He was pleasant and seemed to go out of his way to make people comfortable around him. So, all that in mind, I felt reasonably safe with J. I had no bad vibes at all, and he was familiar enough to put me at ease. He was sexy enough to make me take notice, and intelligent enough to keep me on my toes. Anyway, I'm just stepping into the living room dressed as he requested (that it not dressed at all) when the door bell rings. Well, two things went through me like a shot. This solid strong pang of apprehension (WHAT THE HELL HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO) and this sudden realization that I'm really horny, roughly as horny as if I'd been laying on my back and the Chief had run his hand over my pussy. I walk up to the door and peek out. It's J, which is at least better than answering the door like this to the Fuller brush man. J comes in and gives me an appreciative once over. He gestures for me to turn around which I do. He goes over to the couch and sits down. "I wasn't sure you'd really do it until you opened the door. I would have understood if you hadn't." I'm sure I'm blushing, but there's no mirror handy to check. J gestures for me to come here. "You're serious about this?" he asks. I nod in agreement. J reaches into his coat pocket and with his other hand signals me to kneel down in front of him. "Then let's do this right," he says and then his hands are on my neck for a few seconds. I'm not sure what I expected him to grab, but my neck wasn't it. I feel something go around my neck and he removes his hands. "Go look in a mirror. Let me know how you like it." I stand and go into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Attached around my neck is a red leather dog collar with a metal strip on it that has my name etched into it.

pt. 6. J gestures for me to come over and kneel at his feet again. "Did the collar excite you?" He's looking directly into my eyes as he says this. I can't maintain eye contact. I looked down which shows me I'm naked, which didn't help my state of mind. I nodded my head. "You're excited by the whole idea, aren't you?" Still looking down, I nodded again. "Then you should probably take my coat." J says. I took his coat and hung it on the pegs by the front door. When I got back to J he is clearly checking me out. He told me to undress him then. As I was unbuttoning his shirt, he told me that whenever I was not doing something specific I was to be at his feet, kneeling, and this last part he was very specific about, with my knees wide apart so that he had free access. For me to enjoy it, he told me, I should try to think of myself, of my body as his property. Imagine that I was a slave who could be whipped for showing any reluctance to please or any disrespect. Ok, Ok, so he got me hot just from what he was saying. The fact that I was taking off his clothes helped that along too. I'm sorry? I didn't get-- Oh, well not really. The Chief is very skilled and energetic in bed, but I can't see him in a Zorro cape. That just isn't the way we interact. I see myself, on the other hand, as a kind of sexual Diva. When we get out of bed, I think there should be applause and a bouquet of roses handed to me as I bow to the audience. Sex is very enjoyable for me and I like to be playful. The fact that the Chief is so straight makes it fun to play off of him. Ok, so I'm taking off J's clothes. I got his shirt off, and did his shoes and socks, and then took off his pants and shorts. No he wasn't packing a gun, and yes, he was glad to see me. I was very aroused at this point. Without a word from him, I tossed his pants onto the other end of the couch and took him in my mouth. I guess in a way I was trying to establish some control over the situation. I wanted J to lose it a little. I wanted to see him have difficulty controlling himself while I made him come, right there on the couch in my living room. What I didn't understand at that time was how important maintaining control was to J and how much being in control enhanced his enjoyment. After a few minutes, just as I was getting to him, he made me stop. I didn't want to. I resisted. I hoped to make him come before he could get away. J is a great deal stronger than he looks. He pulled me away and jerked me over his lap. He held both of my hands with his left hand, looped a leg over my right leg, that was the one on the outside, and begins to spank me. He kept it up for, maybe a minute and a half, long enough that I was no longer in doubt about who was in charge of the weekend. He didn't really hurt me, but my bottom was very red and he definitely had my attention. Thinking back on it now, it is a pretty silly sight. I'm naked. I'm draped over his lap. My hair is flying up and over my face. My bottom is sore. I'm horny as hell, and what's worse, I can feel his erection poking into my stomach. That drove me crazy. Then after he's warmed my bottom, he begins to rub it. He still smacks it from time to time, but now he's feeling up my bottom. He lets his hand drift down. Because of the way he's got my legs separated with his, I can't do anything to deny him access to my sex. He starts touching the outside of it, running his fingers through my pubic hair. He keeps this up, spanking me, fondling my bottom, teasingly touching my pubic hair, and then he starts being more invasive. His hand starts to slide up and down my slit, then going back to give my bottom a couple of whacks. His finger slides into me, and then he gives me a couple of swats. He rubs my clit and gives me a light spanking, then his hand is back again. He keeps this up until I'm moaning and trying to shove my bottom onto his hand. Then he starts to chide me for not following his directions. I tried to imagine that I was being punished for being disobedient. I liked that. He was rubbing my clit and bringing me very close when he really began to lecture me. I came just as he told me that I was "a bad little girl." Yes, I'll admit it, the whole situation had gotten much more weird than I anticipated. I'd basically expected to have him ravish me, probably on the floor of the living room the first time. I'd expected to, well kinda, outlast him. I mean, if he takes me in the living room right away, and then a few minutes later I go down on him, and he tries to take me again ... Js not a 19 year old or anything. I really expected to burn him out and then just kind of be titilated by being naked around him. I expected to be able to control the situation by making him come several times and then to tease him to get even for him winning the bet in the first place. So being draped over his knee, spanked (ok, I kind of liked that part) made to come with his fingers and being held helpless (he had very strong hands) while being told I was a bad girl was a bit more than I expected. I'm really used to being in charge, to being the prime mover. That's what confused me. I lost control on several levels. I wasn't playing his body, rubbing against him, teasing him, he was playing me like a saxophone, or at this stage, maybe like a piano. On the other hand, it felt pretty good. He didn't really spank me especially hard and he did a very good job of teasing me enough so that I desperately wanted him to let me come. He had me really helpless. I tried to wiggle free, but there was no way I was breaking away unless he let me up. The man has strong hands. It was also freeing in a way. I didn't have to decide when I was going too far or when to do much of anything. I couldn't even touch myself to make me come, not the way he was holding me. He had taken charge and I was just along for the ride. I did feel fairly silly reaching orgasm as he told me I was a bad little girl. I have to shake my head when I think about that part. When the orgasm began to subside, I expected him to let me up and tell me to DO something. Not J! He let me relax for just a moment, then he began to rub my clit again. I started to squirm. He had me humping against his fingers and then began playing with me like my pussy was the remote control for the rest of my body. He slid his fingers into me. He rubbed just my clit, then took his hand away and spanked my bottom, then with no warning penetrated me again with his thumb, sometimes just doing that, others rubbing my clit as well. He kept varying it. He'd suddenly increase the stimulation and then stop and go onto something else. I don't know how many times he made me come. 4 or 5, I guess. He played with my bottom, my slit, my pussy, my clit, and even slid his thumb into my bottom. OK, yes, I loved it. After a while he let me relax. He sort of slipped out from under me, leaving me laying on the couch, my chest and arms on the couch but kind of kneeling on the floor at the same time. I think that the rest was more a question of getting my bearings than it was of needing rest physically. If I'd been less taken aback, I'd probably have preferred it go on. J came back and knelt beside me and handed me a glass of water with ice in it. I hadn't realized how thirsty I'd become. I drank about half of it in a single extended glug. He let me put the glass down and then caught my eye. "Let me explain my rules for the weekend. There are only three. I'll go whenever you tell me that's what you want. That's rule one. Rule two is I am in total charge as long as I'm here. Rule three is once we begin something we will finnish it. "Do you understand these rules?" I nodded at him. This was going to be more of a head trip than I'd originally thought. I took another drink of water. Without speaking he took the glass from me and set it on the end table. "Lean back down," J told me as he pushed my chest gently back onto the couch. He spread my legs and fondled my whole pussy for a few seconds. I'd seen his cock was hard, even after going into the kitchen, finding a glass, getting me a drink and coming back out. He had me thrusting my hips at his hand after only a few seconds. I could feel his erection brushing against my bottom. He just kept fondling me. I was starting to do more than just moan. He pushed me until I started to say things. What? Oh, nothing coherent. "Oh, yes," or my favorite, "Arghhh," that kind of thing. NO, I wasn't begging <giggle> at least not yet. Anyway he suddenly slides into me, practically without stopping what he's doing with his hand. In fact, he slides his hand around my hip, gets to my clit again and keeps rubbing even while he's in me. He filled me marvelously. He practically screwed me into the couch. My bottom was making itself known. It was just tender, but I couldn't do anything like this without noticing it. He had me very aroused before he entered me. It was only a minute or two before I began to come. I tried to bear down on him, to bring him along, but I was very ... warmed up? I couldn't wait for him. I started coming and I was loud enough to make it very clear to him what was happening. He started to pump faster and faster into me, pushing me along as I came. As I came down, he slowed, but kept up the basic rhythm. I was about to start working on him when he slid out. I made another of those incoherent sounds that was clearly something like, "Don't take it away." He didn't. The son of a bitch slid it, all slicked up into my bottom, without a word of warning, rubbing my clit the whole time.

Having him enter my bottom kind of changed my perspective. I knew that I'd end up going down on him, but I didn't know how far he'd take it. When he slid into me and then pulled out only to slide into my bottom, I knew that there were no limits to what would happen this weekend. I mean, he'd been here less than an hour. I like being stimulated when my bottom is taken. J certainly did that. He'd taken possession of my clit before he'd entered me at all and he'd never given it up. Rather than just getting the stimulation from behind, it was as if his cock was reaching through me to rub me there. It was pretty intense. It was also a surprise. I didn't really expect this. I know you'll think that is very naive of me, but that's how I am. I was deeply embarrassed at having gotten caught after saying that I'd go down on him. I kept trying to find a way of sliding out of it. What were the odds of my losing all those hands? I'm a flirt. I am good at that. I pat men on the bottom occasionally and sit on the odd lap (OK, a lot of laps) but this was beyond the pale. I started coming almost as soon as He entered me. Having that strong a sensation was more than I could bear. I'd been reasonably quiet for me at least up until then. I just started screaming. I'm sure my neighbors could hear me. If J didn't know what he'd gotten himself into, he knew now. He kept pumping into me. He seemed to know when I was nearing an orgasm, and stepped up the speed and intensity each time. I lost track. I must have had three of four. I screamed again when he had his. Only when I heard him groaning did I realize that he'd been silent since he'd entered my bottom. I felt cheated by that. I think then that one of my goals became, making him make some noise as I 'serviced' him. Yes I know I'm grinning.

I expected a period of lethargy, maybe some cuddling; Not what J had in mind. He caught his breath, but I didn't know that he was going to maintain the 'sexual slave' business for the whole weekend if he could. He slid off of me and sat back on the couch. There was no real volume to his voice. There was no hint of power that was based on force. He said, very quietly, "Go get a wash rag from the bathroom. Get it wet with warm water and clean me." I started to get up and he said, "Remember you'll be taking me in your mouth so get it wet enough to do a good job." I realize that he was dropping hints at what might give me a "z. I came back with the wash rag, knelt between his legs and slowly and very gently went over him with it. I'm not sure how much of a job he wanted me to make out of it, but I took several minutes and was very thorough. By the time I'd taken him in my mouth (just ta check) he was already hard again. He looked at his watch, the only thing he was still wearing, and then reached for his pants. From the pocket, he took out his wallet and put it on the table. He told me to put the wash rag away and told me to take a few minutes in the bathroom if I wished. I took advantage of that. When I returned, he was putting down the phone. I started to ask him about it when he told me to sit on the floor. "Show me how you play with yourself," he said matter of factly, rather as if he'd asked to see how brushed my hair. I sat down. I didn't want him to see this. I agreed, but I was looking for a way out of it. I sat down, leaned against the big chair and pulled a pillow behind me. I showed him. It was very weird. He was paying so much attention to me that it became flattering. I was very shy at first, but he gently encouraged me and he was right, I didn't want him to leave. It seemed stupid to have had rather intimate sex with him, but draw the line at this. I was close to coming when the doorbell rang. I stopped dead, as if they'd know I was doing this if I kept it up. J took a $20 from his wallet and handed it to me. "That's the Pizza delivery man. Tell him to keep the change." I stood up and reached for my robe. "No. Like that." J said, "You can hide behind the door, at first, but open it all the way and let him see you when you pay him and take the pizza."

I realized later that J was a master of contradictions. I flirt, therefore he puts me into situations where I'm afraid to flirt. He gets me horny and then changes what's happening so I can't do anything about it. I like to make people notice me and he makes me the center of attention so I can't do anything to be noticed more. I like to lead men on and he takes control. He is the master, but he'll only stay until I tell him to go. J is a head trip, a royal head trip. He's also kind of cute, not just physically, but in how he manipulates me to do more than I want or than I dare. Look at what he did to me. He insists that I masturbate for him. He watches me the whole time, but keeps me off balance when get near coming so that I'm incredibly horny and he won't quite let me come. When I'm sure he'll let me come in a second or two, the doorbell rings and he tells me that I'm supposed to flash the pizza dude. I might go to the door in a nightie, or even in my leotards, but this is just more than I'm normally comfortable with. Yes, it excited me. Sooooo, I took the $20 and went to the door. I could feel J's eyes on my back (ok, maybe lower). I smelled of sex at this point. I wondered if the pizza man would be able to tell (or just guess). I opened the door and looked around it, not exposing anything except for my head. The delivery man was about 19, tall and well built. He said something like "Pizza delivery." I can't remember what exactly. Inwardly I took the equivalent of a deep breath and reached out for it as I stepped around the door, handing him the twenty at the same time. He looked as if he'd frozen. Mechanically he took the bill, giving me the pizza. I swear I couldn't help myself. "It's been so warm lately, hasn't it? Oh, just keep the change." I slid back in and closed the door behind me. J was there. He took the pizza and set it on the table. He had his tongue in my mouth while his hand took possession of my sex. He forced me up against the door and kissed and fondled me to an orgasm while I stood there, pressed against the cold wood. J then took the pizza into the other room and we ate it along with about 2/3 of a bottle of wine, both still naked. Well I wasn't naked. I still had my collar. During dinner J would gently touch me in all sorts of ways. His hands would slide over my thighs, his leg would rub along side of mine, a lot of things like that. I certainly didn't calm down much. After dinner he took me back to the living room where he sat on the couch with me. He said he was going to play a game with me. The point was how much frustration I could stand. He began by having me touch my breasts following his instructions exactly. He'd have me rub the surface or both breasts with the palms of my hands, then change to touching only the nipple or to tweaking or pinching them. Abruptly he told me to stop and to come to him on my knees. He had me suck on him. I tried to use this to get him to be the one who was so horny he was losing control. No dice. He had me stop again. He told me to do one of my dance routines, just the way I was (wasn't) dressed. He seemed to enjoy that, but again he made me stop and come over and try and make him come with only my breasts. I wasn't allowed to touch his cock except between my breasts. He kept me at that for quite a while, but as soon as I thought I was getting somewhere he made me stop again and put me on the couch right next to him. He told me to masturbate for him. This time he let me come. It was so odd being next to him and not being touched at all as I reached orgasm. He took me to the kitchen then and over the tile floor he placed a layer of newspapers and had me stand on them. He handed me a bottle of cooking oil and told me to cover myself with it while he sat back and watched me. I'm not sure what I expected, but J was certainly exceeding my expectations. I certainly never knew where oiling myself would lead.

Have you ever performed for someone on demand? Not necessarily like this, but had someone said to you, 'tell me a funny story' or walk into a room and have the teacher ask you to do a problem or show them a dance movement? It puts you off balance. Even if it's something you normally do well, being told to do it for their entertainment and enlightenment is hard. I took the bottle from him and poured some in my hand. As I coated my breasts I tried to be very sensual. I wanted him to be sorry that his hands were not applying that oil. It was a silly thing to be doing in any event and I found myself enjoying it. Using cooking oil made it seem really ridiculous. I couldn't help grinning. I poured come more in my hand, set the bottle down on the counter and got some of the oil on both hands. I did my arms and shoulders. As I got to my shoulders I brushed the collar on my neck. I had to stifle a giggle when I thought of being in dog collar and standing on newspapers. I got more of the oil and slicked down my stomach and sides. I glanced at J. He was enjoying this too. His smile was infectious. I turned around as I put oil on my bottom and on my back. I used what was on my hands and then looked at J over my shoulder, "Is that enough?" "Not nearly. Add some more," J said in that quiet voice of his. I got some more and put a definite sheen on my bottom. I then moved onto my legs. I coated the thighs first, turning around the whole time to give J a better view. I bent over while I did my calves, but kept turning around to show him as much of me as I could. J seemed to be enjoying the sight a great deal. I thought I was done, except for my back. I looked at J and said in a quiet, perhaps even a submissive voice, "I can't get my back." J stood up, walked over to me, took the bottle from the counter and poured a generous amount into his hands. I turned around and let him have at my back. His large warm hands ran down my spine. He didn't just coat my back, he rubbed it as if he were trying to give me a massage. He got to the bottom of my back and reached for more oil. He took some and began to work on my ass. Again what he was doing was more like a massage. He did pause and oil not only my anal opening, but after a moment or two of that, the channel inside as well. This was becoming more and more interesting as it went on. J turned me around and began to massage my stomach. The oil changed the way I felt J's movement. By the time he worked his way up to my breasts his half hard erection was at full hardness. My nipples were hard and I was moaning. I wanted to lean on something, but it was my kitchen and I was afraid of what the oil would do the to the paint if I did. I wanted to keep the amount of explaining I had to do to a minimum. His right hand continued to knead my breasts but his left hand slid down my stomach touching every inch of skin it could until it came to rest in my pubic hair. His hand began to stroke the outside of my pubes. This was driving me crazy. I wanted to lie down and demand that he fuck me; I wanted him to put his fingers in me, to touch my clit, to make me come. J kept up this slow tease, bringing me higher and higher with each stroke, each passing second. I felt his right hand slide around my back and grab one cheek. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing his mouth and cheeks as he began to rub my well oiled clit. He began to finger fuck me, but not in the way I'd imagined. He slid two fingers into me in the back. His left hand continued to rub my clit as his hand took full and complete possession of my bottom. Standing up, in my own kitchen, covered with oil, J's hand controlling my sex and my ass, I came. J held me until I could stand without assistance. He got me a glass of water. As I drank it, I began to really want the bathroom for more than one reason. J looked at me. "I guess we should get you cleaned up, huh?" As I began to agree with him he took a blindfold out of somewhere and put it on me. It was one of those sleep masks that with two hole would have looked wonderful on the Lone Ranger. I felt him clip a leash onto my collar and follow that with the click of my hands being cuffed behind my back. Like I said, I really wasn't prepared for what he had in mind with the oil.

Have you ever been blindfolded and moved around? It is very disorienting, worse even than walking in a dark room. When you walk in a dark room, you are making the decisions about where you are going. Being led around makes it much more difficult. I'm sure J took me on several extra turns as well because I was surprised when the breeze hit me. It was a warm night. I could feel the wood of the deck on my bare feet. It was well past sundown. We do have a fence that blocks the view from the other houses, but there's a world of difference between taking your top off after you've looked around in the daylight and being blind and suddenly finding your naked body on a leash outside. The breeze felt good. He led me to a place on the fence that he'd obviously scoped before because he was able to find it so quickly. The cuffs had some way of making the links between them longer, and he used that to put my hands around a slat in the fence, causing me to have to bend over. He shoved my feet back and apart and then left me there. I mean, get the picture; I'm naked, he has this mask on me so I have no idea of what is going on. If something happens I'm chained to my fence. I'm covered in oil so I'm sure I looked like a refugee from a jello wrestling competition. I can't hear his footsteps on the grass, so he may be staring at me or he may have gone home. I couldn't decide whether I was turned on or freaked out. The water that hit my back wasn't all that cold, it was just a surprise. He had brought up our hose and proceeded to hose me down with it. Then he begins washing me with this large sponge. It was fairly soft, but stiff enough to make me very aware of where ever it was as it moved along. He started on my left calf. He worked his way up my leg, spending quite a bit of time on my thighs. I moaned. I'd been moaning and yelling quite a bit up till he put the blindfold on me, but that was inside. Now I was in this rather compromising position and I'd started again. "You might want to keep quiet out here," he said quietly, his hand neglegently resting on my bottom. "I'm not sure I could unhook you and take you inside quickly enough if you got your neighbors sufficiently disturbed. He started up my right leg. I tried to bite my tongue. I HAD to bite it when he got to the top of my thigh this time. He brought up the hose and rinsed off the soap from my legs. He started on my bottom and back. He spend several minutes working on them. I had this image of myself as a race horse being curried (is that the right word) after a run through a pasture. He slipped down and did my arms, ending up on my chest. He began to do my stomach and chest. It was quite a sensation as he worked on my breasts. When he was done I was still quite, but I was sure I was clean, there. He spent quite a bit of time working his way down my sides with that sponge, doing my stomach, rinsing me off. Then he did my sex. He dropped sponge after a moment or two and used just his fingers. He certainly got the oil out. He also gave me one helluva hard time as I tried to stay quiet. He could see how hard it was for me as I bucked against his hand. He'd been sifting quite a bit so he was able to completely surprise me when he slid his cock right into me. I grabbed the fence for support as he plowed into me. It was so weird, so kinky, so arousing, AND I HAD TO BE QUIET. I came once, and then again and I only let out a little moan the second time. Still it was wonderful. He unlatched the cuffs and let my hands go free. He took off my blindfold, and, as I blinked in the dim light, pointed to his still erect member. I dropped to my knees as I thanked him.

Out there in the moonlight I was overwhelmed by sensation. I was sopping wet, still fairly oily (cold water only does so much), on my knees and just oozing sexuality. It was all over me. I'd been naked now for several hours and I was outside that way, in my own yard. I didn't care that I was naked; I didn't care that my neighbors might see me. I didn't care that any of a number of very awkward things might happen, I was not me any more, at least not just then, I was woman as sex, not just as sex object, but as the embodiment of sex itself. J was there naked as I was, sporting an enormous erection that practically glowed in the dark. He'd had me, made me come twice, but he'd held off. I couldn't have that. I latched onto him like a hungry tiger, taking his erection into my mouth, grabbing his hips, literally so he couldn't get away from me, because it was important to me that I make him come. He allowed me to work on him for a moment then for a couple, then he tried to get me to stop. I held on for dear life. After a few seconds he stopped trying to pry me off and instead grabbed my hair and pulled me to him, forcing himself deeper into my mouth, erupting as he did it. I swallowed every drop. When he was through (I made sure) he just hugged me for a few moments, then very quietly he said, "You could become habit forming," and then hugged me again. He helped me to my feet and took me back into the house. He lead me to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When it was warm he put me in and followed. He didn't let me do anything right away. He started on my feet and lathered his way up to mid thigh before starting on the other one. He repeated the process, soaping my foot and calf and about half way up my thigh. Then he stood up and washed my arms and back and then took out shampoo and did my hair. When he was done with that and I was all rinsed off, he washed my face, pausing to kiss me long and deep. I could get used to being pampered, I told myself. Then he soaped my stomach and my bottom, being VERY thorough. He did my thighs and then worked up to my breasts and washed them with incredibly gentle strokes and movement. I'd relaxed but the last couple of minutes started my motor up again. He then went down and washed my sex, getting the hair first and then making sure there were no stray drops of the cooking oil inside. I came leaning back against the wall. When I had my breath back, he handed me the wash cloth and told me that it was now my turn. I'm sure I grinned as I repeated the procedure on him. The water was beginning to run cold by the time we were both done. He dried me off and put my collar back on. (When had he taken it off?) He lead me to the bed. I would normally have found something pretty to wear, but J wouldn't allow it. We both slept nude, or he did, I was after all wearing my collar. It was a very odd night. Very sensual. He made love to me then, right after we got into the bed, but he didn't come (though I did). Then he explained to me that my job was to service him whenever he had the urge all night. He's a very light sleeper. I don't know how many times he woke up and took me or had me go down on him, or flipped me on my back and licked me until I was screaming my orgasm. I have no idea how many times he made me come. Sometime in the middle of the night he came, his member buried in my bottom. Each time he took me there, he would have me go and get a warm wash cloth and clean him off. Then he'd have me go down on him until he was really hard and take me vaginally. In the morning he came again, in my pussy this time. Each time he brought me to orgasm. I was finding it easier and easier to come each time. It was as if lifting all responsibility from me made me better in bed, or at least released all my inhibitions and let me come more and more often. By morning I was actually sated, tired but sated. I wondered about the day he'd have in srore for me.

I've gotten bored. I feel like I'm no longer talking about me and my experience as much as I'm just offering you some titilation. It's really difficult to identify the specific occurrences on Saturday. So much happened. A lot of it was J actually using me however and whenever he wished. He explained to me what a pearl necklace was after he'd given me one. I'd never expected him to use the tube of K-Y he took out between my breasts. When he spurted over my neck and chin, he told me about that. I was naked nearly all day. His hands were all over me most of the day. No pinch marks or anything like that, just a healthy appreciation of my skin and that his time was limited. I came so many times that my sides ached, sorta the way that they feel if you laugh too hard and too long. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice ache, but clearly we pushed our physical limitations quite a bit. He pushed my emotional buttons very strongly too. Normally I like to be the center of attention by being boisterous. He made me the center of attention by making me quiet. He played a lot of head games with me and made me love it. I served him breakfast in bed, of course. When he was finished eating he had me go down on him while he finished his coffee of all things. When I had him hard, he put his cup down and took me again, from behind this time. He didn't come then, but he made me, twice. J played this bizarre game with me where he'd ask me questions that were extremely personal, like the precise manner in which I lost my virginity, with graphic details. If I didn't tell him or if I didn't seem to be telling the truth right away, he'd begin to fondle me. He'd keep doing it until I told him what he'd asked. The bastard kept me coming for what seemed like ten minutes, it couldn't have been that long, but he had this knack of being able to keep me right on the peak for the longest times. I told him all kinds of things, the first time I had anal sex, all of the occasions ... well, you get the idea. We played that for much of the morning. He did take me out, but that's too complicated to go into now, perhaps later at another session. The last thing he did Saturday night was probably the most physically intense. He tied me to the 4 corners of my bed. Then he blindfolded me. I had images of being tit-fucked again or of taking him in my mouth while he held me down, of all kinds of things. He gave me a massage. At least it began as a massage. Then it kind of evolved into something else. He stopped kneading my muscles as much as he titilated my skin. He spend several minutes running his hands up my thighs and down my stomach until I was ready to beg him to touch my pussy, screw me, touch me, anything. Then he disappeared for a couple of minutes. The next thing I felt, remember I was blindfolded, was him putting a warm wash cloth over my sex. I knew what he was doing when he began to lather it up. He told me that I needed to be very still and then began to shave my pubic hair away. Now my husband and I engage in oral and anal sex, though normally inside, so it wasn't as if any of the specific acts were new to me. Shaving myself isn't something I've had to do or wanted to do for that matter. Somehow, it felt forbidden and deliciously sexy to have him do it this way. He certainly took his time over it, and while I suspect he wasn't ever using the razor on me while he did it, he did rub my clit a lot while reminding me that I needed to stay still while he shaved me. That was fairly intense. When he was done, he used a wet cloth to clean off the last of the soap. Then he went down on me, and down on me and down on me. I lost count of how many times he made me come. When he stopped, he put some baby oil on my newly shaved pussy. That's when I felt there was something he was hiding. After he oiled me, he used his fingers on me and started me coming again. Then, I swear, he tried to see how long he could make me come. He used his tongue, his fingers, his prick, then started over with his tongue. He did it so long that I couldn't catch my breath. When he untied me, I was dizzy. He had to help me to the bathroom. He wouldn't let me take off the blindfold right away, but I did feel that he'd left a patch of fuzz on the upper right hand side of my pubic hair. It wasn't until I'd spend another night just like the last one (I did make him come three times, once in each aperture as he called it) coming maybe a dozen separate times myself that I got to see myself in the light. I kept that heart shaped pubic patch for a couple of months after that. Oh, look at the time. I've got to be going. I must say I enjoyed this more than I thought. What? Oh, yes, I do re-do the heart from time to time...