A Picture in Black and White

Charles stood up. "Stand in the middle of the room, Brigitte," he said simply and firmly. She did as he said, resplendent in her black lace and heels, her erect nipples poking through the thin material of her bra, her dark pubic hair just visible through the transparent lace of her panties. She waited for his next order.

He then turned to me and told me to sit in the chair to observe. Carefully I sat down, my erect cock making it difficult to move quickly. Charles sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Brigitte," he began, and she looked up at him. "What a woman wears under her clothes – what you're wearing now, for example – speaks volumes about her. How she thinks of herself, how she feels about herself, how practical or impractical or adventurous she feels on any given day. Maybe most importantly, what she wears says everything about how she wants to be seen by men."

Brigitte blushed again, but it was clear he had her full attention. Mine, too.

"From here on in," Charles continued, "I'm going to want you to be seen in a particular way." Brigitte caught her breath – as did I.

"By that I mean simply that you're lovely, and it's a shame not to be able to see such a lovely woman." Charles paused. "Do you know where I'm going with this?"

"Nooo..." Brigitte said softly. Charles went on.

"From here on in, I want everything that you wear – yes, I mean what you wear under your skirts and sweaters and jeans – to show you off. I want your bras, and your panties, and all of your lingerie, to accent your lovely body. I don't want anything hiding you, or covering you up in any way. I want your underwear to reveal you – to highlight you." Charles paused for a moment and Brigitte – and I – waited with rapt attention.

"So tonight, you're going to put on every bra, every pair of panties...every teddy and garterbelt that you own, so I can see you in it." Brigitte sucked in her breath.

"And if I'm not satisfied with them," Charles went on without hesitation, "however practical or comfortable they may be, you'll throw them out immediately. Do you understand?"

Brigitte looked shocked, and looked over briefly at me. But she quickly turned back to Charles and nodded her assent.

Chapter XXVI

For the next three-quarters of an hour, my beautiful wife dressed, and undressed, as her master watched.

Each time she took off an article of clothing in exchange for another, it looked as though her skin grew more flushed. As though her nipples got harder, more erect.

Charles had her start with her bras. And regardless of how fabulous she looked in each and every one, he had her discard all but one...a black one, with lace cups whose transparency revealed fully half of her breasts.

"Put that aside," he said quietly. Of the others, he said only on having her throw them out, "They don't show enough of you." Brigitte gulped, but did as he ordered.

After he had her finish trying on all her bras, he had her put on every pair of panties in her drawer. White cotton ones. Floral print ones. All of them. He wasn't satisfied. He had her throw out every pair except for two black, lace bikinis, including the pair she in which she had met him.

"Do you have any others?" He asked her simply. Brigitte shot a quick look at me before replying. I felt compelled to tell him the truth.

"She has various pairs that I've bought her over the last few years," I said quickly. "Panties, garter belts, sheer thongs.... Things she never wears. I think she's a little embarrassed by them."

Charles' eyebrows shot up on hearing this. He looked at my wife. "Go get them," he said to her quietly. Brigitte's blush suddenly took on an even deeper hue, but she did as he asked.

She went into the walk-in closet and rooted around for a minute or two, finally emerging with a handful of black, red and white lacy lingerie. It was hard to tell what she was holding, but I was sure we'd soon see. At least she had the good grace to look sheepish at not letting on about her little trousseau.

"Well, well..." Charles began. "What have we here?" He turned to me. "You mean to tell me she never wears these things?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes, that's what I mean," I said. I added, "Only when pressed."

Charles went 'tsk-tsk', then smiled. "Put them on, Brigitte." Brigitte blushed again, more deeply, if that were possible. But she did as he said.

First she gracefully leant over and pulled on a sheer black thong. She stood up, bare-breasted, to show Charles. Unbidden, she turned around slowly, so that he could see her all of her. The thong hid nothing. She really looked fabulous.

"Very well. You may keep that. Next," was all Charles said.

For another 20 minutes, Brigitte tried on the rest of the exotic lingerie: A red lace bra and panty set; a black basque; one or two more sheer black thongs; a black lace garterbelt with black stockings – what a lovely image to see my wife's dark triangle of pubic hair so lovingly framed by the black lace, the straps, and the stocking tops...!

Charles had her keep them all.

Finally, she had only a pair of black, lace crotchless panties left to try. Slowly, reluctantly, she removed the last of the tiny panties he'd had her display, and put them aside. Then, unbidden, she stepped into the tiny, revealing panties.

They hid nothing. By contrast, they showed off everything, making my beautiful wife look even more naked than had she been entirely undressed. Although artfully and tastefully decorated with lace at the waistband and front panel, even to the point of a tiny black bow, discretion stopped there. They were completely open, in a wondrously revealing vertical flash, from the waistband in front to the waistband in back. Nothing was left to the imagination – not the soft curls of her dark pubic hair, or the lovely, tempting crease of her round bottom.

While she stood and blushed, Charles and I drank in the sight of her. "Turn around slowly again," was all Charles said, and Brigitte complied, showing us her lovely body. She was obviously embarrassed, but at the same time a sparkle in her eye belied her excitement. Her skin was flushed, her pink nipples once again stiff and erect.

Charles regarded her with admiration for several more minutes, then told her to put the black lace bra on once again. Brigitte nearly pouted at the request, but, once again, and without argument, did as he said. She fetched it from where it lay in a pile of lingerie, and slowly she brought it up around her waist, turning it around backwards in order to fasten the three tiny hooks. Then she slid it around, and gently, cupping her breasts, lifted the cups up and around them. Then she slid the shoulder straps up and, finally, looked up at Charles.

"Very good, my pet," was all he replied, and stood up. My heart began beating faster, wondering what was to come next. Charles walked over to her. She stood, looking at him, waiting expectantly.

Chapter XXVII

"Kneel down, Brigitte," was all he said – quietly, but firmly. I could feel my already-hard cock twitching. Brigitte looked up at him and immediately got to her knees. She looked up at him again, her nearly naked body lovely in the subdued light of our bedroom. He reached down, and gently took her chin between his fingers, lifting it up, urging her to look him in the eye. She looked up at him.

As she did so, Charles began unbuckling his gray wool trousers – slowly, teasingly, undoing his black leather belt. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Brigitte whispered something softly too herself, too quiet for either of us to hear.

Charles continued... undoing the belt, then unbuttoning the waistband of his slacks. Then, again, slowly and provocatively, unzipping his pants for Brigitte. He looked over at me with a subtle smile and an unspoken comment: Your wife is going to suck my cock.

Brigitte looked at him unzipping his pants, her stare laser-like in its intensity. She reached up, and grabbed the waistband of the slacks, and tugged. Suddenly they slid completely down his black, muscular thighs. He stood before my kneeling wife in nothing more than a pair of sheer, black bikini briefs..

It was a stunning sight. The filmy material hid absolutely nothing. In fact, the briefs did nothing more than to frame his magnificent cock and balls, seen from my perspective in sharp, exquisite profile. The view from Brigitte's angle must have been even more impressive. His cock was already stiff, pushing hard against the thin material that sought to constrain it. The dark purple cockhead was clearly defined and visible through the sheer fabric.

Brigitte wasted no time in freeing his penis. Without hesitation, she reached up and grabbed the waistband of his thong, yanking it down. His long, black cock sprung free, hardening even more quickly as it was released from its restraint. Then, simultaneously, Brigitte and I sucked in our breath. As the tiny briefs slid down his thighs, revealing his manhood in its glory, it was immediately obvious that Charles was wearing a harness. A leather cock and ball ring, studded with silver.

I suddenly found it hard to breathe. I can't imagine what my wife, kneeling before him, felt.

The harness was made of black leather, just a shade or two darker than his skin, and was comprised of several parts. One leather ring completely encircled the base of his shaft and the soft skin at the top of his sac, snugging it up gently, but securely. That particular ring was designed to keep him from reaching orgasm, as it pinched off – gently, but surely – the surge of any ejaculation, while still allowing him to remain hard.

From the base of the ring, under his scrotum, stretched another, T-shaped strap. It was pulled up tight between his two balls, and snapped back onto the base ring near the top of his penis.

The effect was electrifying. The harsh tightness of the strap served to separate, tighten and lift each of his big, heavy balls, putting them virtually on display. They stood up and out proudly under the long black shaft, which stretched out obscenely in front of my kneeling wife. The profile of the big, tight balls and thick, bobbing cock was absolutely stunning – nearly impossible to resist. Brigitte stared at it in fascination. Even I was impressed, to say the least.

Chapter XVIII

Charles did not need to tell Brigitte what to do. She leaned in toward his long, hard cock, and opened her mouth, looking up at him all the while. Then, she closed her eyes, and took the round head of his thick penis gently between her lips.

For the next quarter-hour, my wife attentively performed oral sex on her new, black master. Her attention and devotion were shameless, her ministrations to his pleasure exquisite to watch.

I studied her in awe as she alternately slid her lips over the massive purple cockhead and down the shaft itself, endeavoring to force as much of him into her mouth as she could. Then she drew back, leaving the hard flesh of his thick penis glistening with her saliva. The contrast of his black shaft against her red lips and white teeth was outrageously erotic – and, I'm shocked to say, enormously beautiful. Gently, surely, she slid him in and out of her mouth, taking an inch, then two, then three – even as much as four inches before the pressure of his cockhead against the back of her throat proved too much.

Then she would pull back gently, but only so she that she could run her tongue over and around the helmet of his cock, licking it slowly, wetting it thoroughly, over and under, teasing the tender frenum on the underside of the head with quick, gentle flicks.

At one point, looking over at me to ensure I was watching, she slid her lips off his cock. Slowly she took his long hard, shaft in her hand and pressed it up against his belly. The action served to bring his heavy, black balls, stretched tight by the black straps, up and out even further. Thoroughly and shamelessly revealed, proudly and outrageously displayed by the harsh discipline of the harness, they could now be admired in all their magnificence.

The color of dark chocolate, each was easily the size of an egg, and stretched so taut by the harness that that is exactly what they looked like – a pair of beautiful, black eggs. Brigitte could not keep her mouth off of them. Again shooting me a look, she proceeded to lavish the most careful, intimate attention on them that she could. She began by gently and languorously licking the entirety of each one, until they positively glistened in the soft light. Then, she proceeded to take first the left one, and then the right, entirely into her mouth – and then gently, teasingly, closed her lips around each one as she did. Each time she did, she looked up at Charles tauntingly, tantalizing him with the implied threat of a bite – walking the thin tightrope between wondrous pleasure and sharp pain.

Obviously, however, it was merely a tease, for as Charles continued to watch her intimate caresses rapturously, the only sound emerging from him was an occasional low growl of pleasure from deep in his throat.

Obviously eager for Charles' tribute, Brigitte turned away from his tight, black balls and back to the thick shaft stretching out before her lips. Sucking it back in eagerly, she proceeded to slide her mouth up and down it faster and faster, taking as much of it down her throat as she could manage. It was clear to both Charles and me that she was aching to satisfy him – and to taste his thick, creamy sperm.

Still wrapping her warm, soft mouth around his dick, she went so far as to reach up and unsnap the leather harness at the base of Charles' shaft. She withdrew it reluctantly – stopping for a second to once again admire the tight heavy balls she had just finished licking – before she let the strap fall to the floor. She knew it was preventing him from coming – keeping him from the pleasure she was certain he desired. As she did so, she reached up with her left hand and began rubbing his sac, quickly making it taut with excitement, harness or no harness.

It was clear Charles was not going to be able to hold out much longer. He moaned more loudly, and I could see his entire body stiffen as Brigitte teased him toward orgasm. Feeling his muscles tense, seeing how close he was, she began sucking even more earnestly, more quickly, endeavoring to take as much of his long, thick penis down her throat as possible.

Then, an instant before I was sure he was about to spray his semen into her mouth, he pulled back suddenly. He slid his dick out from between her lips, trailing long threads of saliva. He grasped it quickly and firmly at the base, encircling it with his long, strong fingers. Then he looked down at my wife.

"Undo your bra," he ordered. "Fold the cups down – but don't take it off altogether." Brigitte looked up at him questioningly, but did as he said. She reached back and undid the tiny hooks, slipped the straps slightly off her shoulders, and then slowly folded the black, lace cups down, exposing her stiff, pointed nipples. She waited there, kneeling, still wearing her tiny, crotchless panties, which thoroughly revealed her lovely pussy and the crease of her firm, round ass.

"That's far enough," Charles said, still holding the base of his thick cock. "Hold your breasts up for me," he commanded. I held my breath. Brigitte hurried to comply, cupping her big, beautiful breasts and holding them up and out for him, still cupped at the base by the folded lace .

As she did, he pointed his long, thick cock down toward her chest and simultaneously released his tight grip on the base. He closed his eyes. Then, sliding his hand up, he gave his shaft one or two slow strokes, and moaned once softly. I watched, fascinated.

Charles' beautiful black cock exploded in response to my wife's lavish attention. With a harsh moan, he sprayed hot, thick streams of semen across her chest. His sperm shot out once, then twice, then three times, each jet nearly as thick and forceful as the last. Sperm flew everywhere.

Finally, by the fifth or sixth ejaculation, his powerful torrent began to relent. I looked at my wife, kneeling in front of him. She was thoroughly covered in Charles' tribute. His sticky sperm coated her full tits. It ran down in rivulets between the soft valley between them. It glistened on her skin. It dripped off her stiff, pink nipples, and pooled in the cups of her black bra.

Brigitte looked down, obviously surprised at what she had been able to coax from Charles. Then she looked up at him, waiting for his next command. His eyes remained closed for several seconds, until, finally, composure regained, he opened them and addressed her.

"Put your bra back on," he said without ceremony.

Brigitte looked at him in confusion, but did as he said. She reached up and pulled the lace cups over her cum-covered breasts. She slid the shoulder straps up, and then reached back and refastened the three tiny hooks in back. Then she looked up at Charles again.

"Yes, Sir?" she asked.

"I'm leaving now, my pet. You've done well tonight. You've proved to me again that you show enormous promise, so I've decided to take your training to the next level."

Charles' words made Brigitte moan softly, and made my cock and balls ache. He went on, briefly. I'll contact you shortly."

And with that he was gone, suddenly, swiftly. I heard the door close, and his car start and pull away.

Like a thief in the night. A thief of love.

Chapter XXIX

Brigitte whimpered in frustration. Slowly she stood up, still clad only in her black bra and tiny, revealing panties.

"Come here," I said, and she came to me at the edge of the bed. She looked so forlorn and frustrated, it made my heart break. I stood up, and wrapped my arms around her, kissing her deeply. Her breath was deep, and musky, tasting of Charles' cock. I slipped my tongue into her mouth.

Then, I reached up and unhooked her bra, letting it slide down her arms and drop on the floor. Her breasts still glistened, sticky with Charles' semen. I leaned down.

Slowly I brought my hands up, cupping them under her full tits. I lifted each in my hands. I brought her left nipple up to my lips, and sucked it into my mouth. I ran my tongue around it, feeling it harden quickly again, and flicked my tongue across her aureole, back and forth. Charles' cum was salty to the taste. Then I did the same with the right, feeling it, too, harden quickly under my caresses. It, also, was salty and sticky with semen.

And for the next 10 minutes, I gently licked over, under and around her stiff nipples. I licked every inch of her full breasts, cleaning the sticky cum off them. Brigitte moaned softly and slowly, no doubt in part due to the intimacy of the act I was performing. That she was excited was indubitable: When I reached my hand down to her open panties, my fingers came away soaking wet.

Unable to resist any longer, I pulled her onto the bed. There I fucked her: in her soft, welcoming mouth for nearly a quarter of an hour, and finally in her hot, tight, wet cunt, not even bothering to remove her panties. She came, and came, shuddering and shaking, wrapping her arms around me tightly, finding release at last.

And I – I sprayed jet after jet after jet of hot cum into her, finally collapsing into utter exhaustion. I looked over at her minutes after she fell into a deep and profound sleep. A smile creased her lips.

Chapters XXX

We didn't speak much about that encounter, either. But that was okay. I'm not sure either of us would have known, exactly, what to say.

Several mornings later when I checked my emails, I found, to my surprise, a message from Charles. I noticed that Brigitte had been copied on it. How did he know our email addresses? I wondered, then figured, why not? He certainly knew his way around things, you had to give him that.