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...