Equal Shares Ch. 41

Anne's vaginal musclesclenched. She wailed again, the sound getting higher and higher in pitch until it cut off, and Anne just held her breath. Stan suddenly found it very difficult to keep thrusting. In fact if she hadn't been so slick with arousal he couldn't have done it. But he pushed his way through anyway, grunting with the effort himself.

Finally Stanwent. His awareness shrank to his penis and balls, he felt the semen coursing up and into Anne, coating her insides. Once, twice, three times he erupted, then there were only a few small dribbles left. Stan was left desperately gasping for breath, the muscles in his buttocks and lower back were already aching and his heart was going hell for leather.

Gradually he came back to his senses. He reached down and drew Anne to sit next to him on the sofa. Her face was flushed. As he watched, she reached down and wiped a finger through her pussy lips, raising it to her eyes and showing it to Stan, too, before licking it off. It was an amazingly sensuous, actually downrightsexygesture and as Stan watched in disbelief his dick twitched a little.

Once they'd recovered their breath a little Stan poured out some more wine. He sank half a glass in one deep swallow before taking another, smaller one and swilling it around in his mouth for a moment. Anne was equally thirsty, and besides she was massaging her throat. "I'm glad I could do as much as I did, Stan, but it's something that I'll have to get used to," she explained. "You're getting me doing things I've not done with anyone before, Stan. I love you, and I love the way you make love with me."

"Now," she said, her voice changing to a command, "go grab a couple of glasses of water while I phone up some food. I'll get some Indian tonight." Stan nodded his assent and was in the kitchen before he realised... "Anne?"

"Moment!" she called, obviously on the phone.

Stan walked back into the room holding two glasses of water. "Yourorder, ma'am," he told her in a waiter's tone.

"Thanks," she replied absently as she was completing the order for the food. She put the phone down and looked up at Stan. "What?" she asked, seeing his expression.

"You ordered some water, Anne. I delivered it." But Stan couldn't keep from smiling, "You just can't help yourself can you, sweetheart? You just simply ordered me to fetch you some water, and I did. You've got that tone to your voice that you use sometimes, and people just can't help but obey!"

"Um... sorry? I don't know what to say, it's just me being me."

"Yes, I know, and I love you for it – but how do you thinkDenisewould have reacted just then? She'd have done what I did, but I think she might well have been upset whenwhybecame clear to her. It's part of why people think of you as imperious – you've simply developed this habit oforderingpeople sometimes."

Anne held her head in her hands. "Oh, God. Am I that bad?"

"It's notbad, Anne, it's just something you do. When you're at work, leading a team – and you are a natural leader – it's appropriate. When it's just me, I don't mind at all. But if you try that with Denise, when it's just us, you'd better watch out!"

"I'll try to remember, Stan," she told him with a faint grin, "but what's this about 'I don't mind at all.'" You like being told what to do?" she asked, eyebrows high up her forehead and a challenging look in her eye.

"Most of the time I'm content to follow your lead, Anne, you know that," he told her, "but I noticed something just now. You like it when I tell you to do things when we're having sex, don't you? You couldn't get ready for me to enter you fast enough when I told you what I wanted."

Anne couldn't meet Stan's eyes. She was blushing furiously, but told him, in a very small voice, "I guess sometimesIlike to be told what to do, Stan. Can I tell you a fantasy?"

Stan lay back on the sofa and pulled Anne to him, so that she was half laying on him, her head on his breast. "Go on, Anne, I'm listening, my love."

"It's a bit embarrassing. I've thought about this off and on for the longest time. I'm naked, except for a strip of fabric around my throat. I'm completely, willingly subservient to someone whose face I never see in the fantasy. He enters the room from behind me, orders me onto the bed on all fours, facing the wall. I jump to do his bidding and he simply enters me andusesme for his pleasure. I'm only too willing to do as I'm told. In the fantasy, that is. He pulls out of my pussy and orders me to turn around and suck him, and I do, and I love it. But I keep my eyes firmly down, never raising my gaze. Then he pulls out of my mouth before I've brought him off and turns me around again. This time he plunders my ass, Stan, he buggers me mercilessly, simply forces himself in and pounds into me, making me come just as he comes himself.

"It's at that point that I come, for real, when I fantasize about it, Stan. But I've never really wanted todothat – the ass thing, I mean. I know people do, I'm not that naïve – but I couldn't, I couldn't."

"Denise does," Stan murmured without thinking.

Anne heard him. "Does she now? Did you like it? Doesshelike it? Never mind, I don't really want to know – just don't askme, Stan. Okay?"

"Methinks the lady protesteth too much!" Stan countered. But then he said, placatingly, "Don't worry my love. I'll not ask you to do something you're not happy about. But tell me more about the rest of it, the willing slave-girl thing. Do you want to try that sometime?"

Anne was quiet for a second or two, then said, shyly, "Maybe. I'll make sure you know when I'm ready to trythatfor real, Stan."

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