The Good Wife: Resubmission Ch. 01

"I just though..." I shrug inside my coat, my voice small, almost a whisper.

"You though what?"

I felt ridiculous, the situation felt ridiculous. I'm thirty-four, successful, about to be married, and yet I'm half naked in public and stammering like a fool. Pull yourself together, I thought, pleading with myself. "I wanted one last fling before tying the knot." I said plainly, daring to look up and meet Gavin's eyes.

He studied me for a long moment, his eyes never moving from mine. The silence of the moment stretched, becoming more and more uncomfortable, though I tried my best not to let him see any awkwardness.

His eyes softened just a bit, his face losing that hard posterior for just a moment, reaching out, cupping one breast in his hand, rubbing slightly. "That pretty little girl did grow up into a gorgeous woman." Lifting my breast slightly with his hand, seeming to measure it, weigh it. "And you just wanted to get laid one last time, right?" Gavin's eyes intent on my chest, It was a relief, not having to meet and hold his stare.

"Just one last time." I said, looking down at his hand. The cupping and rubbing is making my nipples hard, betraying the anxiety at being nearly naked in the bar. Again, I sweep my eyes across the room to see if anyone has noticed us yet.

"Julie, you could get laid fifty times over or your way to and from work." Gavin's warm hand moved slowly and deliberately down my side, resting on my hip, just above the lace of my panties. His eyes moved back up to meet mine, the softness touching them a moment ago gone, replaced by a stern and steely look, "No, that's not why you brought me here."

Turning back around in his seat, Gavin took another pull from his scotch, another awkward moment. Really, I didn't know what to say. My mind was racing. The situation hadn't gone anywhere near as planned, I was embarrassed, and I couldn't help but to slip into the old routine with him, all the training from all those years ago fresh and raw and almost second nature, reflex. Avert your eyes, don't ever look him in the eyes unless told to. Don't speak unless given permission. Be pliant, move how and where he wants, when he wants. Don't ever resist, don't ever shy away, or else... I wanted to fight it, that is not the person that I am anymore, I'm not that girl, his girl, anymore, but I can't help it.

"Nothing to say for yourself?" he placed his drink carefully on the table, turning again to look at me.

I continued to look down, not sure of what I should say. He's right. I could have gotten laid at any point in time from almost anyone: customers, strangers, coworkers. I wanted closure though, with Gavin, closure from what happened all those years ago. I wanted him to regret letting me run away, I wanted him to see what he'd missed out on. I was going to give him a taste, just a taste, and then pull it away from him so that he could truly know what he had lost, hoping to see the remorse on his face. It was a gamble. I hadn't given it any real conscious thought. Now he's calling me out. What can I possible say? "No." a whisper, a plea, a contrition, all packed into one small and meekly whispered word.

"No? Nothing?" a mock outrage touches his voice, raised slightly. I worry that heads will turn and notice us. "Take your panties off."

My head snaps up at his command, I can't say if my look was one of fear or pleading or anger, I'm not sure. Gavin's eyes meet mine own, hard and unrelenting.

"Take your panties off." He says in an exaggerated and slow manner, as if I'm slow or didn't understand.

Part of me wants to fight him, to just get up and walk away. More humiliation to live with, more regret, more need for closure if I walk away. I lift my ass slightly to slide my panties down, working them past my thighs, they fall to the floor around my ankles. I wriggle one foot free then cross my legs, retrieving the lacy garment from around my foot. I hand them to Gavin.

"Good." He wads them up into a small ball, "Open."

Resigned and beaten, my heart racing, my face red, I open my mouth, doing as I'm told. The wad of lace is shoved into my mouth, I

"Good girl." He compliments me. Humiliating and demeaning, however, despite myself, I find a twisted measure of pleasure in the words, I'm proud, I feel a glow of satisfaction touch my red cheeks. "Look at me."

I look up, turning my face to meet his, my eyes cast down, glancing up for just a moment to see the look of approval on his face, a look of pleasure and lust.

The woman behind the bar sees me, she sees the panties sticking out of my mouth. She stops what she's doing to watch for a moment. She takes it all in, the panties in my mouth, the nakedness under the coat. She can see that I'm wearing only a bra up top, but I don't think that she can see under the table, she can't see my spread legs, she can't see my naked cunt, though I'm sure she knows. The two men at the bar spin around in their seats so fast that I wonder if they'll fall. The bartender must have said something to them. The three are all staring. I'm nervous now, nervous and embarrassed, yet I still stay, still sit exposed and spread with the panties in my mouth.

Gavin notices the attention that we're starting to draw, raising a satisfied smile that touches the corners of his mouth. "I think it's time to go love." He says, meeting the stares of the patrons at the bar. Taking a pen from his jacket, he scribbles something on a napkin and slides it across the table slightly to me. "Here's my address, come to my place on Monday at four if you want to go further."

I start to take the panties out of my mouth, trying my best to do so discreetly, without notice, Gavin stops me.

"No, those stay in until we leave." he says, taking my hand. "You're going to get up and walk out just as you are, so all these people can see you for the little whore that you are."

I didn't think it possible, but my face reddens more, mortifying. I stand, turning slightly so my jacket covers my manicured and naked cunt, my head down, not wanting everyone to see the panties sticking out of my mouth. I shove the napkin into my pocket carelessly as Gavin throws a tip onto the table. My eyes are down, I'm looking at the table, the chairs, the floor, anything but toward the eyes of the leering men and bartender. Gavin grabs my hand and leads me from the bar, he smiles and waves goodnight to the bartender as we get to the door. I don't want to look up, I don't have to, I can feel all the eyes on me, I can already hear the stories they'll tell, and I can only imagine how they'll embellish the story more and more with each retelling. Palenville is a small town, it won't take long for the people to figure out that it was me.

Outside, Gavin walks me to my car and carefully pulls the panties slowly from my mouth. "I'll keep these." He says, shoving the lacy garment into his pocket. "It was nice catching up Julie, I hope to see you again." He kisses me on the cheek, a small and soft kiss, then turns and walks to his own car.

Red faced and embarrassed, I get into my car and drive home.

Laying out the Rules

My mind was made up, I would go to Gavin's house. I had to, I needed to see where this led, I needed closure with Gavin if I was to ever move forward with Tom. Please, you have to understand, this wasn't a decision that I came to lightly. It hurt me to betray Tom like this, but I needed to end things with Gavin. You probably think that I'm a horrible person, and I don't blame you if you do, but you have to understand, this was something that I had to do, a thread from the past that I had to pull free of lest everything unravel around it.

With my mind set, I was better able to concentrate on work. I was productive, I met with clients, I put together ads, I cold called prospective clients, a certain type of calm settled over me knowing that I would follow where this trail led.

Kinderhook is about a half-hour ride from Palenville. It's a small town in Columbia county best known for being the home of President Van Buren. It's a historic little town with many of the old Dutch settler homes and buildings being restored. It's also an expensive little town, it's like they try to kill you with taxes. Gavin lived in one of those Dutch style homes right off the main street.

I wasn't as determined as I had been the night before. My mistake was that I believed that I could control the situation, never taking into account how Gavin would react. I should have known better. I believed that I could make the situation go in the way that I had hoped that it would go, two very distinct and different beasts. Tonight, I was determined to see this through, but it wasn't under the assumption that things would go how I want them to necessarily. I was ready to finally have some type of closure. I also didn't set myself up for embarrassment, choosing to dress normally in jeans and a shirt as opposed to some type of fuck me outfit. If it happens, it happens, cool. If it doesn't, then at least I haven't opened myself up for ridicule.

I found the address easily enough and was right on time when I knocked on his door. Gavin answered, fresh from the shower, the clean smell of soap, hair still damp.

"Hey, come on in." he held the door open, I could feel him checking me out as I walked past him and up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, before I was able to move into the main part of his house, Gavin stopped me, placing his hands on my hips, "Wait here."

I stopped, waiting, doing as I was told. Gavin slipped past me, turning to face me, a barrier between me and his house. "I wasn't sure if you'd come." His look was stern, but I thought I heard a touch of excitement in his voice.

"I wanted to see you." I said, slipping into the old routine, eyes cast down, my voice barely a whisper.

"Good, I was hoping to see you too." He reached out, stroking my hair. His touch was bliss, I leaned my head into his hand.

"Good girl." He cooed. I smiled as he rubbed by head, taking me all in. "There are still rules however, hopefully you still remember them."

A chill ran up my spine, this was our old relationship coming to life again, this wasn't what I wanted. I wanted closure, I wanted this to end, that's why I ran away from him, and I didn't come back just to pick up where we left off. My thoughts raced and railed against the idea, but my mouth betray me, "Yes sir."

"Good girl." He cooed again, "Do you remember the proper way to enter my house?"

"Yes sir." Again, my lips betray me along with my hands, moving slowly, popping the buttons of my shirt.

"When you're done, leave your belongings there and wait, I'll be right back." He paused, staring ot me, "Do you understand?"

I knew exactly what to say, the old phrase popping right to mind as if I said it every day, "This whore understands."

He smiled wickedly, "Good girl." Gavin disappeared into a room.

I took my clothes off as instructed, I was never allowed to be clothed in Gavin's house, this was normal, or at least normal for us. My mind cursed and railed against my body, why are you doing this? Think, damn it, think! But some part of me, some dark part of me that I ignore, that I've cast to the back of my mind and tried to forget, wants this.

I feel myself getting wet as I undress, the ache from the day before returning. I'm naked, my cloths folded neatly on the floor beside me. Lastly, I kneel. My feet are under my ass pointing back, my back straight and stiff, chest pushed out slightly, and my hands placed on my thighs. I want to look around, but I'm supposed to look forward only. I don't want to be punished, but mostly, I want to meet Gavin's expectations. Is that what this is about, I wonder, a craving for his acceptance, for his praise? Will that heal the wounds of the past, erase those memories and replace them? Replace them with what, I wander and fear.

Gavin walks back into the room, he's holding something that's clinking in his hand, metal on metal. I want to look but, of course, it's not allowed.

"This is for you." He says, dangling a black leather dog collar in front of me, "From now on, it will be here waiting for you. You'll put it on after you've undressed. Do you understand?"

"This whore understands." The words came easily, without hesitation. Gavin hands me the collar and I immediately put it on. The leather is cool and rough against my neck. I'm repulsed at my actions, at my willingness to go along with this. I'm owned, I'm collared and owned like some dog. Yet a part of me loves it, a part of me feels complete as I buckle the leather around my neck. I need this.

"This is your leash." Gavin dangles a matching leather leash in front of me, "I'll put this on you when I'm ready to take you into the house. Do you understand?"

"This whore understands."

"Good girl."

Gavin drops the leash at his feet, turning, he disappears into a back room. I continue to wait, posed and kneeling at the top of the stairs. Slave. Gavin's slave.

He appears from the back carrying a small wooden box, somewhat larger than a shoe box, but not much larger. Oh, how I missed this. The wonder and anticipation of what's to come. I love Tom, in and out of bed, but he doesn't surprise me, there is no wonder.

"This box will be at the top of the stairs from now on." Gavin leans down in front of me, "You'll check the box for anything I might want you to wear when you come here and you'll place your folded cloths inside the box after stripping. Do you understand?"

"This whore understands."

"Good girl, now, place your cloths inside the box." He bends over to collect the leash as I lean forward to open the lid, storing my cloths, sealing away the last remnants of my individual self, all that remains is this naked body, Gavin's slave.

"Good girl." He coos as I close the lid, sitting back. Gently he grabs the collar around my neck and I hear the snap and clank of the metal clip of the leash clicking into place on the collar. "Come." he tugs on the leash, a slight tug, and he walks up the last few steps from the landing and into his house.

I crawl a few steps into the room before we stop. It's a living room: hardwood floors, a matching blue couch, loveseat, and ottoman angled slightly apart with a large coffee table separating the chairs from a small entertainment center with a flat panel screen mounted above. Pictures decorate the wall as well as a few art reprints. I recognize some of the faces in the pictures, friends from a past that I ran away from. There's one picture of Tom and Gavin together. I can't help but to cringe slightly when I see my fiancée's face smiling at me, his whore bride.

"This is the living room." Gavin runs a hand through my hair, the owner petting his dog, "This is where most of our fun will take place."

He starts to move again, tugging the leash for me to follow. We stop at the entrance to the small eat in kitchen. "This is the kitchen, I'll send you in here from time to time for a drink or something to eat."

Gavin gives me a tour of the rest of the house, the bathroom, bedrooms, etc... me crawling after him, stopping as he points out the various rooms. Then we return to the living room. Finally, I breathe with a bit of excitement, maybe a touch of fear. Finally, we're going to do something. Finally, my itch will be scratched and I can return to the more normal and mundane life that I am used to.

"Lean over the ottoman, facing the loveseat." He dropped the leash, walking out of sight for a moment.

The ottoman war oval shaped, just long enough for my body and for my chin to rest along the edge. I folded my hands under my chin and braced my knees against the legs, pushing my ass up slightly. The Material was soft against my skin, warm, against my naked body.

Gavin returned from the back, a can of beer in one hand and something that I couldn't really see tucked under his arm. He took a pull from the can of beer, standing over me, looking down, taking me in.

"Good girl." He cooed, walking around behind me.

I felt him kneel down behind me, the denim of his jeans rubbing against my thighs. My back arched more as he grabbed my ass, pulling my cheeks apart, my cunt making a slight sloppy noise. He rubbed my ass, massaging it, watching as my cunt opened and closed, more sloppy noises, god I was so wet. Gavin's hand moved down my ass, his fingers outlining my cunt, moving back and forth slightly to either side of my lips. A finger slid into me. I was so wet that there was no hesitation, then a second finger. With his fingers pressed into me, Gavin began to rub my asshole with his thumb, I pushed my pelvis back as far as I could, pushing into his hand. He pumped his fingers in me a few times, softly, gently, then removed them, rubbing the wetness against my ass, sliding one finger in. I couldn't help but to gasp slightly at the unexpected finger exploring my ass, the wetness from my cunt lubricating his path. I gasp again as he presses his finger in deep. I've done anal sex in the past, in fact, I love it, but it's not something that Tom and I do very often. Most of my experience with anal sex was with Gavin, my ass isn't used to being used any more. He pulls his finger halfway out, I feel a cold drop of liquid fall between his finger and my ass. He pumps again with his finger, it slides gently into my ass – he's lubing me! A chill runs up me, half from the coldness of the drops of liquid, and half, maybe more, from the idea of having my ass reamed. I wasn't expecting this, part of me is shocked, but more of me is aching for his cock in any way that I can have it. His finger pumps my ass a few more times, the lube making each thrust easier and more fluid. He takes his fingers out, there is a pause, then something is pressed against my ass. For a moment I readied myself for his cock, bracing myself, preparing to be stretched. But it's not a cock. Gavin braces a hand against my lower back as he eases something into my ass. It's hard and cool, definitely not his cock. The tip of whatever he's pressing into me is wide, I bite my lip to hold back a gasp. I'm being stretched wider and wider, my breathing becomes quick and shallow, and then the stretching stops, the end tapers quickly. It's a butt plug.

"Good girl." He coos, admiring his work, stroking my back with one hand.

I'm stretched and full, but my ass holds the butt plug in, the ache making me all the wetter. Gavin grabs the end of the butt plug and presses it into me slightly, pumping it back and forth. I can't help it, I can't stifle it, a low groan, an animal noise comes out of my mouth. I bite the material of the ottoman to keep silent, to hold back the groans. Agony and ecstasy.

Gavin stands up behind me, the denim rubbing against my leg again. He steps around me, over me, and sinks into the chair in front of me, leaning back. My face is only inches from the zipper of his jeans. He watches me silently for a moment, a smile touching the corners of his mouth, my face betraying me, he knows that I want him, that the butt plug is driving me crazy, that I want his cock in me. He knows.

"Take my cock out and put it in your mouth." He slides down the couch, the zipper almost under my chin.

My hands are right there, I start to unzip his jeans but he stops me.

"No." I jump slightly, startled and the sharpness in his voice, "You do it with your mouth."

I press my face into his jeans, I can feel his cock beneath the denim. Gently, I grab the zipper between my teeth, moving my head down, unzipping as I go. Gavin isn't wearing underwear and his half erect cock nudges out as I guide the zipper down. I let go of the zipper and take his cock in my mouth, sucking to draw it further out. His cock is half hard and I push my mouth down to the base, hair tickling my nose, I swallow against his cock. It doesn't take long, Gavin's cock is growing harder and harder in my mouth, I can't shove my mouth down to the base anymore.