Fantasy Dom Ch. 03: The Manhattan Challenge

"Well, I'm going to recreate that feeling. I'm going to take you to the edge, over and over, and then stop. And I'm going to leave you with blue balls like you've never experienced in your life. Not even with Sarah Bevins. Now keep your mouth shut. Don't say another fucking word. I'll do the talking." She fondled my balls and then rubbed my cock, slowly, giving rise to an excited erection.

"I don't want to hear a peep from you. I'm about to share a whole bunch of information with you."

She continued massaging my balls and jerking me off in long, slow strokes. The sensations were exquisite. After a minute or so she spoke again.

"See..." she gathered her thoughts, "...you are fucking blind and naïve and clueless. You have no idea how clueless you are. I don't even know where to start." She stopped again as if to organize her thoughts...and to pay attention to my cock, which she enveloped between her lips and sucked for a good minute or so. She returned to manual manipulation and spoke again.

"Thomas knows everything...about our little Mistress / slave relationship. I told him about it the very first time you confessed to me about your submissive fantasies." She returned her attention to stroking my penis before continuing.

"If you expected me to be confidential, you were foolish. Thomas and I have an open relationship. Pillow talk has no boundaries. So, I told him about your little submissive fetish. Do you know what he told me?

She resumed sucking me and licking the length of my cock before she continued.

"He said 'go for it'. So I did. And he's been fully aware that I've been playing with you – the hairbrush, when I made you worship my pussy. I told him everything. Hell, all the times I've flirted with you in his company, the wandering hands, the touching, the suggestive remarks...I figured you'd have a clue that he was in on it. What? Do you think he's stupid? But I finally realized, you don't have a clue!"

She sipped her cocktail and then resumed her blowjob. She was making me incredibly excited. She knew exactly what she was doing. She rubbed and sucked me and I became aware that my eyes were fluttering and my head was swaying.

"And what's really cool? Thomas isn't really doing business in town. Guess what he's doing. Seriously, give me your best guess. What do you think he's doing right now?"

I dared not answer, suspecting she didn't really expect one. Plus, she'd told me not to say a fucking word. I was obedient. And I honestly didn't have a clue what Thomas might be doing.

"He's fucking your wife. He's been fucking Marcy...forever. Don't ask me how long. You don't want to know. This little foray with me into this kinky Femdom affair actually gives him some relief. His guilt is much..." she seemed to be choosing a word with care as she kissed the head of my cock several times, "...assuaged."

Through the fog of my sexual excitement I tried to temper my shock. She was right. I had no clue that my wife was fucking Thomas. Marcy had always told me, feminist that she is and always was, that she'd have sex with anyone anytime she waned. That she had the right – and the power – to have a sexual affair. But I kind of attributed those taunts to feminist braggadocio. I was pretty sure she'd never done anything behind my back. To hear this was surprising, to say the least. On another level, especially with my dick in this woman's mouth, I couldn't very well be the pot calling the kettle black. I mustered all my willpower to hold my jealousy at bay...and to stop short of humping this seductive face...all while picturing my wife with her mouth around Thomas's dick.

"Thomas is just a little longer than you," she observed as she rubbed my cock up and down within an inch of her face. "But his cock is quite a bit fatter. I'll bet your lovely wife likes that a lot." She began jerking me in earnest. I could feel a build-up. She stopped, as she'd promised me she would.

"Know what else? I've talked to Marcy too. And SHE knows that you and I have this Dom/Sub thing going. She's fine with it. She admits that she's not as good at this kinky stuff as she could be. Not really her thing. She's actually encouraged me to go for it too. So, Thomas AND your wife both want me to sub the shit out of you." She resumed the handjob.

"And you know what else? I'm not so innocent as I let on. I know I told you that I didn't know much about this Femdom stuff and that I was reluctant to dive into it. But when I was in grad school I lived with a couple and we were a threesome. He was a sub and I learned a whole lot about that scene. I was a hell of a top until my girlfriend and I realized we didn't need him and had him move out. But I digress. Sorry." She resumed her attention to my cock. She sucked and jerked me for some time, until I could feel an orgasm stir. She stopped and cupped my balls, tugging on them gently.

"So, all these times you've visited and Thomas is conveniently out golfing or playing cards or doing business in town or whatever? More than likely he's been at your place fucking Marcy. Basically, I've been making sure they aren't interrupted. And you know what he says? He says your wife is a hot little piece of ass...a great fuck. How does that make you feel?" After a long pause, she added, "Slave."

I felt like a hapless trailer park resident inexcusably surprised by a deluge from the stream in my backyard. Too much information too fast. Erotic revelations. I recalled again how my wife always told me that she was a liberated woman and would do whatever she wanted. And I recalled how I interpreted it as mere bluster – touting her feminism. A broad spectrum of emotions wafted through me all while I savored the sensations in my cock. I thought of my wife, on her back, moaning while Thomas was fucking the hell out of her. I also thought of how great it felt, having been ordered to stand at attention, my cock felt between my Fantasy Dom's lips. How thrilling it was. How ecstatic the sensations were. And how I loved it when she talked dirty to me – going on about her husband fucking my wife. And I thought of how unfair and stupid it would be to harbor any resentment whatsoever while I stood there naked, with erect shoulders and an erect cock, savoring a fabulous blow job from our longtime friend.

"Learning position!" she uttered, while catching her breath from vigorous sucking. "Your shoulders are slumping!"

I immediately resumed my proper posture. And I felt the early waves of an orgasm once more build. So did she. She stopped. She reached for her phone and dialed and then handed me the phone.

"This is going to be Thomas's voice mail. I want you to leave him a message. I want you to repeat it several times – 'Thank you, Thomas, for fucking my wife. Please keep doing it – often."

I placed the phone to my ear and, sure enough, Thomas's greeting played. Just as I heard the beep to leave a recording, my Fantasy Dom placed her hand at the base of my cock and her lips over the head and began manipulating me again. I looked down at her exotic visage while I spoke.

"Hello Thomas. I just wanted to tell you, thank you for fucking my wife. I hope you keep doing it, often." It was a strangely exhilarating utterance. She looked up at me and circled her index finger, indicating to repeat the message."

"Seriously, thank you for fucking my wife. I hope you keep doing it. Please do. Often...as much as you want."

Several more times she made me repeat it, all while she worked on my rock-hard cock. Finally, the voice mail timed out. I handed her the phone. She treated me to an evil grin. She got up and stood behind me, reaching around my waist, my balls in one hand, my cock in her other hand, and jerked me. She slammed my cock with fervor. She pumped and pumped. I was not far, once again, from ejaculating. And she knew it. She stopped jerking but squeezed my cock.

"Whose cock is this?" she asked.

"That's my cock," I answered, without much thought. She squeezed harder.

"That's MY cock. I own it. When you become a real sub, you give ownership of your cock and balls to your Dom." She grabbed my balls.

"Whose balls are these?"

"Those are your balls," I answered meekly, with renewed understanding.

"And even when you're fucking Marcy, whose cock is this?"

"That's your cock," I admitted.

"And whose balls are these?"

"Those are your balls."

"Yes, they are."

She let go, grabbed her phone and sat on her barstool. She began texting and enunciated aloud her message as she typed.

"Hi, Marcy. Courtesy text. Your darling husband has fucked up. Drank too much. In no condition to drive. I insist that he stays the night here. Safe not sorry. You can administer justice when he returns home tomorrow. Love ya babe!" She hitand set her phone down.

"Let's see...where were we? Oh, I'm fulfilling your fantasy of being a sub. I'm giving you blue balls! Get down and kiss my shoes, slave. And I want you to jerk off while you do it. Just remember, I forbid you to cum. And you'd better stop short!"

I got down on my hands and knees to carry out my assignment. My Fantasy Dom still had her shoes on. I kissed them tenderly and began stroking my cock. I tried to kiss every centimeter of one shoe before attending to the next one.

"Now remember, when you feel like you might be getting close to cumming, I want you to stop. Don't you dare fuck up!" she warned me. I stopped masturbating. I continued to kiss her shoes.

"Lick 'em, slave. Lick my shoes. In fact," she said as she crossed her legs and pointed her toe toward the ceiling, "lick the soles of my shoes. Like a real slave. Like the slave you want to be. Like a slave of mine has to be. And start jerking off again when you've calmed down."

Of course, I carried out her command. Between the alcohol buzz and her commands, I was becoming deliriously excited. Beside myself with passion. I proceeded with renewed frenzy. Finally, she spoke again.

"Do you remember how I taught you to shift gears with your tongue and your lips?" she asked.

I recalled when she'd blindfolded and cuffed me and then had me bury my face in her crotch while she instructed me on how to service her pussy, using the language of shifting gears.

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied. "I remember."

"Good. Go get a blindfold," she ordered. "There's going to be some drinking and driving tonight, but it's going to be right here. Drinking, driving and blue balls for an arrogant bartender. And maybe, just maybe you can talk your lovely, well-fucked wife into giving you some relief – tomorrow."