Husband Couple, Wife Couple

I had to have my wife help me with the straps of my garter belt - I was still inexperienced with it and I knew our husband couple would not tolerate any imperfection in our appearances. Sheepishly, I indicated my need to Sandy and she, like a mother hen, came to straighten me out. Fussing over the lace, Sandy deftly corrected my lingerie, fastening and straightening until everything laid smoothly. The vintage girdle's garter straps were laid smooth against my equally smooth legs. The clasps all now securely attached to my stockings, she patted my caged cock, tucked away behind black lace, with a smile.

"There you are, Sam." While we were getting ready, she used my boy name, although I would be "Samantha" once we got to our new home. Sandy proceeded to check the rest of my outfit. A retro-looking 'A-line' dress covered the corset below, which was a little uncomfortable but the cups gave the appearance of nice, feminine curves, which I had to admit secretly pleased me. Before our current situation I never really thought of myself as "feminine" but I had definitely never thought of myself as "manly" either. I found myself drawn to the girlish identity I had adopted - much more than I would l have ever thought possible.

Sandy finished her primping of me and then stood in front of the mirror to check her own matching outfit. She had never really been a 'girly girl' herself but dressing up in the polka dotted housewife look really agreed with her - at least from my perspective. Black corset and panties accentuated her curves underneath the wifey dress and I admired her long, stocking-clad legs with something approaching ravenous hunger. While I made a submissive picture, Sandy looked like a homemaker right out of a 1950's TV show. While we were both embracing our new subservient roles - she was really owning it. She adjusted her choker delicately - we both wore plain black accessories when it was just us, instead of the embossed collars we had in the presence of our Master and Mistress.

Sandy had done my make-up as well as her own, and subjected us both to a final check before we left. She ran an appraising eye over my face - meticulously applied foundation shaped a feminine form, complemented by expert touches of eye shadow and lipstick. Sandy had always had a talent for make-up and I know she took special pride in doing mine. She gave my face a soft caress as she admired her work and my cheeks grew red as I blushed in appreciation.

We both covered our outfits with long overcoats for the walk to the car. Sandy took my hand in hers and we headed out to the street to start our weekend. I let her open the passenger door for me - I drove us most of the time but I was still getting used to the more exotic parts of my new outfit and I held Sandy's hand while I wobbled my high heels into the car. We were allowed to get away with a modest two inches but I still needed her help now and again.

She shut the door and I unbuttoned my coat immediately. The risk of being spotted was outweighed by the stranglehold of a corset and dress wrapped in a trench coat. It was a fairly long drive and I didn't want to show up overheated or sweaty. Sandy went further than I - slipping off her coat as she sat in the drivers seat. She tossed it in the back and adjusted the seat to accommodate her protruding chest. Our classically-styled dresses were conservatively styled with high cape collars - but Sandy filled hers out nicely and I sighed, pitifully considered my caged condition and sitting next to my gorgeous wife for the next hour or so.

****

Of course "wife" had taken on some new levels of meaning as of late. We had met Dexter and Daria almost a year ago but only in the last few months had our relationship with them evolved to this point. The story of how we met really wasn't all that interesting: we had been introduced by some mutual friends (who had no idea about our perversions) at a cocktail party one evening.

We had been mostly standing on the sidelines all night, keeping to ourselves. Neither Sandy nor I knew anyone except the hosts and we were really never good at mingling. Both of us were shy by nature, only really winding up together ourselves by virtue of growing up in the same town. We sipped our wine for a while, hoping either that someone would come talk to us out of pity or that enough time would pass that we could sneak out and go home.

We noticed Dexter and Daria immediately when they walked in, fashionably late. Daria wore the hell out of a beautiful black evening gown and Dexter looked stunning in a very sharp suit. Sandy and I were both drawn to them, watching from our secluded corner and feeling very frumpy in our more casual outfits. I had put on my best shirt and sport coat for the party, and Sandy had even done her makeup, but our inferiority complexes went to 11 having to share the same space with these magnificent people.

The power couple worked the room, greeting and laughing as they made their way through the crowd. They seemed to know everyone here. Sandy and I exchanged looks. We were never ones to remark on someone else's appearance and certainly we had never discussed something as embarrassing as being attracted to someone else...but we had been married for years and knew instinctually what the other was thinking as the picturesque pair walked towards us. We weren't able to define it at the time but we both definitely felt something that we had never felt before.

Daria and Dexter kept mingling until they wound up near us. They didn't exactly come 'to' us, per-se, they just sort of stopped for a breather in our general area. They sipped their cocktails, chatting a bit between themselves while Sandy and I sort of stood there, smiling and waiting to be noticed.

Sandy, always the (slightly) more outgoing one risked a wave and a friendly "hello!". The other couple paused their conversation to look over in our direction. They both looked us up and down - not necessarily dismissively but certainly in search of an appraisal. Sandy continued to smile bravely but I gulped and looked away in the face of their scrutiny. It was obvious that we didn't really belong here, on the nice side of town. I expected them to keep on walking when, surprisingly, they came over to us.

"Hello." He said. Not a friendly, engaging 'hello' with a smile but not rude either. Dexter seemed to be gauging us dispassionately while he sipped his cocktail. Certainly not the cheerful, charming way he and his wife had greeted the other guests. I got the sense that he was trying to judge whether we were worth their time.

Sandy and I waiting expectantly, wondering if either of them were going to say any more than that. After a couple of beats it was clear that they weren't so she responded in her best bubbly, 'I-really-want-you-to-like-me' manner.

"Hello!" She said again. "I'm Sandy, and this is Sam. You two look so nice tonight!"

They sipped their drinks so I tried my hand at it as well.

"Well, wow, you two seem to know everyone here!" I added, lamely.

The man nodded, and the woman glanced around, obviously looking for more fertile ground.

"Um, and what are your names?"

"Dexter, and this is my wife Daria." He responded, not-too-subtly checking his watch while he did so.

Sandy and I glanced at each other, unsure of what to do next. "It sure is a nice party."

Daria rolled her eyes at Sandy's comment. Dexter caught someone's eye from across the room and led his wife by the elbow over to talk to them. We stood there

dumbfounded: what had just happened here?

Sandy and I stood in our corner, looking at each other for a moment. Each of us expected the other to say something but neither of us spoke. It would have been easy for us to dismiss the incident. To write Daria and Dexter off as snobs. People we shouldn't care about the opinions of.

We stood and sipped our drinks though and our gaze was drawn to them again. And again. They were attractive for sure. It was more than that though: they were elegant, graceful. The couple glided through the rest of the room, charming everyone and commanding the center of attention wherever they wound up.

Sandy and I looked on with something more than envy. An hour passed, and then two. These individuals conjured siren songs that left us entranced. Their beauty was enhanced by an understated power. The quiet confidence they carried of being desired...and being obeyed.

We watched them complete their circuit with a hint of despair. As they got ready to leave Sandy actually let out a small whimper. The disdainful way they treated us should have made us hate them but we craved being near them. It was unlike anything we had ever experienced.

They would pass by us again on the way to the exit. We steeled ourselves for one more attempt. Both of our minds raced with what to say, on how to get more of their regard.

They walked towards the door, holding their coats and chatting quietly. We stepped forward to catch their attention. They both stopped suddenly and turned to us. Stared.

Our minds went blank. Sandy froze with her mouth open, I almost collapsed in embarrassment. A million comments, questions, witty remarks had been perfectly formed in my mind before we encountered them. Now my language skills seemed to be gone and my wife's no better.

"N-Nice to meet you. Both." I managed. Cringed.

They turned to leave. Sandy found her courage for one last attempt: "Maybe, uh, we'll see you again sometime..?"

Daria and Dexter stopped again. Exchanged glances. She made a slight, almost imperceptible motion with her head. An inquiring raise of her eyebrow. He gave an almost equally imperceptible shrug.

"Next Saturday, La Merise French Bistro. 8 P.M." Daria said. And then they turned and walked away.

****

We arrived at the lake house around mid-morning and Sandy parked in the middle of the driveway. Dexter was a "car guy" extraordinaire and there was plenty of space in the expanded garage for our vehicle but we knew that would not be allowed. Our Master and Mistress had instructed us to park a distance away and make the approach to their home in our submissive attire, a suitable transition period to our coming servitude.

Sandy helped me gingerly extract myself from the car and then ensured I had stabilized myself in the heels before we started towards the house. We had both shed our overcoats at this point and walked openly up the walk. It was a fairly secluded home but we glanced around nervously, wondering who might spot us. From a distance it might seem we were just a couple of girls coming home but the outfits were outmoded enough that they might raise eyebrows if one looked closely. How often did you see a couple of women in retro 50's housewife dresses with stockings underneath?

Truthfully, when I wasn't concentrating on my pumps, I luxuriated in the thrill. Never had I been an attractive man but I liked to think I might be making an okay woman. I climbed the long driveway flashing my nylon-wrapped legs and allowed myself a bit of a strut. Mastering high heels had done wonderful things for my calves. I snuck a quick glance at Sandy and found her with similar swagger. We both gradually assumed our characters as we approached the house; leaving behind the awkward personas in the car and adopting our submissive identities.

Sandy rang the bell and we stood on the step, waiting to be let in. I fidgeted a bit with my frills but a look from Sandy put a stop to that. Like pets anticipating being allowed in, we remained there, daring the occasional peek in the window but otherwise staying obediently still. I wobbled a bit in the heels - I found standing still to be surprisingly more difficult than staying on the move.

After ages we heard footsteps coming towards the door. The loud clicks of heeled boots on hardwood floors approached us until a pregnant silence permeated. For several moments more we were forced to stand outside, trying to hold down the hems of our midi-length frocks against the breeze. A chilly wind chose that moment to come up and caress our lingeried bottoms. We both had a slight shiver before righting ourselves and looking attentive.

The locks turned one by one and the door finally opened to find Daria standing there - a dispassionate but slightly stern look on her face. She gave a quick glance up and down to our outfits and then raised her chin expectantly.

"Hello, Ma'am." We said in unison. Our 'spouses' took traditional roles seriously and that meant subservience on our parts. Sandy had helped me practice my curtsey for this moment and we tried to execute the movement concurrently, or at least as much as heels and corset would allow. I was able to lower myself in the gesture without incident but wavered a bit on the rise. I hoped it wasn't noticed.

Daria said nothing but opened the door wider and gestured inside. We docilly entered and took up our positions in the hall, smoothing our ruffles again on our dresses. Dexter sat in the next room, reclining in a leather chair and reading a paper. He didn't bother to look up as he acknowledged us.

"Hello, our little wives." He greeted.

"Hello, Sir." Was the only reply we could make.

Daria walked over and around us to more closely examine her charges, making every bit as careful of inspection as Sandy did. With some apprehension, I desperately hoped that Sandy's eye was keener than our Mistress', and her hands deft.

We stared straight ahead as we were examined. Twice Daria rounded us, taking in every aspect. Inquiring fingers touched and poked, probing our outfits for imperfections. Suddenly, she leaned in closely to peer at my make-up - she squinted and opened her mouth to make a remark, scorn suddenly coming over her face.

Only to be pre-empted by Dexter. "I need coffee, my wifey ladies." He said, still not looking up.

We started with the break in tension. Daria shot a wicked glance towards him, as he spoiled her ceremony. The venom went unnoticed by Dexter who continued to read his paper, oblivious to his interruption. We knew however that Daria would be extremely irritated at the moment of 'lese majeste' and the outlet for that irritation would mostly likely be us.

"Coming right away, Dear." Sandy spoke first, desperately trying to redirect the moment. She looked at Daria - who frowned but did not stop her - gave a quick curtsey again, and padded off towards the kitchen to fetch our Master's request.

Daria stood there grimacing at me and I continued to stare straight ahead. I withered a bit under her stare but dared not move or speak.

She shook her head slightly, still fuming. "Very well then. While the other 'wifey' is attending to domestic duties, you might as well make yourself useful too."

She grabbed my face in her hands and pointed my head towards where Dexter was sitting. "Our 'hubby' has been up for hours and hasn't cum yet. Get started on your duties."

Daria spanked me hard on the ass and I mumbled a "Yes, Ma'am" as I went immediately to Dexter's feet and placed my hands on his knees.

He spared a glance over the paper and gave a short "yes, very good" to me before returning to his reading. He seemed to have no care for which of his partners came to please him and I might have been coming to dust the table for all the attention he granted me. Like the docile wife I was I knelt before him to perform my first duty of the day.

My hands slid up his trousers and I leaned over to unbuckle the thick leather belt. I snaked it from its belt loops and placed it beside me before returning to the buttons and zipper. Black silk underwear revealed themselves under his pants and, before coaxing them down, I paused to caress the enormous bulge underneath. My master was very well endowed and even now he still shocked me with his size and stamina. It wasn't uncommon Sandy and I to be fucked 3 or 4 times a day while here. As someone who was never even able to perform twice in a row, I was overawed.

Painted nails traced the outline of his cock and Dexter made an approving noise behind his paper. I kissed it through the soft, silky fabric and reached for the waistband to free his shaft to be worshiped by me. The head sprang free into my face and I shoved his underwear down so I could be unencumbered in my work.

My pink lips embraced Dexter - we always applied lipstick generously with the intent of leaving behind our mark. Deep throating wasn't something I was an expert at yet but I tried to make up for that in enthusiasm. I fondled his balls and slipped a finger under his taint as I worked my mouth around his member.

His first cum of the morning usually was fairly quick. Later in the day, after using both of us thoroughly, he built up his tolerance until he could fuck endlessly like a stallion. I knew that, this early in the day, his fat balls must be almost bursting though and I wouldn't have to wait long until he filled me up. I stroked his dick with my dainty fingers and gave my best slutty moan to show my appreciation. Thick, powerful fingers threaded themselves into my hair and pushed my face down farther.

The paper finally was set down on the table as Dexter gave me his full attention. Both hands cradled my head and it turned from a loving blowjob into a forceful face fucking. My carefully styled hair was going to be a mess after this - as I grew out my hair Sandy had delicately put it into a "kitty" style to match the rest of my retro look. But situations like this is why she always packed lots of extra hair products when we came to serve.

I fought down a gag - knowing that would result in severe punishment for 'unladylike behavior' - and powered through until he hit the back of my throat. Desperate to bring things to a close, I slid my hand up his muscled chest and gave Dexter's nipple a small pinch. I was particularly proud of that - it was something I had introduced him to after finding I liked it myself. My dainty fingers caressed him and rubbed circles around the sensitive area. I think he was a little self-conscious about it still but it got the job done as he gave a final groan and filled my mouth with hot, wet cum.

Huge ropes of sticky cum shot down my throat and I knew better than to try to resist. Not that I could - his masculine hands still held my head firmly in place. Dexter waited until he had drained himself completely, giving a few final thrusts to clear the last of it from his shaft, before releasing my hair, which was now very mussed up.

He collapsed back into the chair for the moment, breathing heavily but contently. I wiped the edge of my mouth with a dainty finger to ensure no traces of sperm were left on my face and then dutifully began pulling up his underwear and pants. By the time I finished buckling his belt back together he had already picked his paper back up and sat drinking the coffee that Sandy had laid on the table during the time Dexter was using my mouth.

Sandy and Daria stood behind me as I got to my feed. Daria looked on with her usual slight disapproval, Sandy remained safely passive after watching me get defiled. Dexter now taken care of for the moment, I met Daria's eyes with only meekness and docility as I smoothed my dress hem.

"What will be next, madam?"

****

Our first "date" with our future dommes was at an elegant French restaurant downtown, one way out of our usual price range. Daria's matter-of-fact statement of where we would meet left us flummoxed all week - was she serious? What would we talk about? What would we possibly wear?

What we did know was that we were definitely going. Sandy and I didn't explicitly talk about our expectations for the evening but we had been married long enough to have a common understanding. It was clear that we were both a little intimidated by the other couple...and that there was a strange attraction there. Impossible to describe, the brief encounter at the party had left its impression on both of us.