The Interview Pt. 02

As she drove back to her hotel, her mind whirled with thoughts of the encounter in the interview room. It had been the single most erotic experience of her life. She'd stopped in the ladies room to clean herself up with a tissue, but her panties were still soaked and she could feel it. Why had she done that? She was married. But... but. What she hadn't told him, hadn't told anyone besides her mother, was the other reason she'd taken this trip.

The interview was important, but it could easily have been done over the phone. She'd wanted to get away for awhile. Needed to. Because she was sure that her husband had been cheating on her, and she didn't know what to do. He had a temper and he could be a manipulative bastard. If she confronted him about the affair, she knew there were only two outcomes. Either she'd meekly agree with everything he said, as she usually did to keep the peace, and then he would start making excuses and justifying what he'd done until at the end, it would seem like the entire thing was her fault. She wasn't a good wife. She didn't satisfy his needs. It had happened before during other arguments, until she almost believed it.

Or she could stand up for herself. And that, she knew, would lead to a divorce. Her mind shied away from that idea as soon as she thought it. She'd been brought up to believe that when you said "I do," it was forever. Her parents' marriage had been rocky. Her father had many affairs over the years, and she could remember sleeping in their big bed as a child on nights when he hadn't come home, with her mother crying herself to sleep. They had stayed married for 40 years, until her father succumbed to liver failure brought on by his best friend, Jack Daniels. He'd been drunk at her own wedding, she recalled. Was that really the kind of life she wanted?

She'd taken this vacation to give herself time to decide. Having an affair herself hadn't been in her plans, and now she began to feel ashamed. She rode the elevator up to her floor silently wondering if her guilt was branded on her face, like Hester's scarlet A. Was she really an adulteress? She hadn't actually had sex with him. But now, she wanted to. He'd told her to call him when she got back to the hotel. Given her an order, more like. And it was up to her to obey, or not. She didn't have to. The interview was over with and there was nothing stopping her from checking out of the hotel right now and going home early. She could talk to him online in a few days, and hopefully he'd understand. They could still be friends and never mention this again.

If she called him, there was no going back. It would be tacit agreement that she'd chosen to submit to him. To whatever he wanted. The idea thrilled her more than she wanted to admit. If she did that... what would he ask her to do? He wanted to have her, that was obvious. No, she thought to herself, that's not the word he would use. He wants to fuck me. To lay me down on the bed, spread my legs and fuck my pussy with that incredible cock of his. And I want to let him. I want more than that.

Blinking, she realized that in her reverie she'd unconsciously reached up and started stroking her thumbs against her breasts. Her nipples were rock hard and she could feel herself becoming wet again. She was going to do it, she realized suddenly. She would call him, she would give herself to him. Anything he wanted. The thought was arousing beyond belief. She sat down on the side of the bed and pulled her cell out of her bag.

"I wondered if you would call," he said.

Suddenly, she didn't know what to say. Her mouth went dry and the bravado and surety she'd felt just a moment ago seemed to dissipate into the air.

"Having second thoughts?"

"I..." Hearing his voice was making her pulse race. It always did. She thought she could listen to him reading the dictionary and still be aroused. "I don't know," she heard herself say.

"Let me ask you something. Did you enjoy yourself?"

That was easy to answer, at least. "Yes," she said. Then, more firmly: "Yes. I did."

"Good," was the reply. "So did I. Very much so. Next question: Do you regret what we did?"

She had to think about that one for a moment. Did she? Should she? If she were a good wife, she would be ashamed and penitent, regretting the moment of weakness that led her to break her marriage vows. If she were a good wife, she wouldn't be having this conversation. She'd be on her way home to confess to her husband and try to save the shreds of their marriage.

"I don't," she said, surprising herself. From his sudden intake of breath, she thought she surprised him, too.

"I don't make a habit of getting involved with married women," he told her after a minute. "But I confess, you're making me want to make an exception to that rule."

Out of nowhere, she blurted out: "I'm going to divorce my husband." There was shocked silence on the other end of the line. "Not because of... not because of today," she said quickly. She found herself telling him everything. About the arguments, the cheating, her father, about the reason she'd needed to get away. "I don't want to live this way anymore," she concluded with a sniffle, realizing that she'd started to cry at some point. "I'm done, I want to be happy, I want to have my own life, I want..."

"Tell me what you want," he urged.

I want you, she thought, but she couldn't say that. It sounded like a declaration of love, and that wasn't what she wanted from him. Now that she'd gotten everything off her chest, the thought of divorce didn't seem so scary, and the idea of being single and free to do as she pleased was intoxicating. Free to do who I please! she thought, and then blushed.

He was still waiting patiently for her answer. "I want... what we did today, I want that. I mean, more than that. I mean, what I mean is -" She was stammering now, unable to say the words. Making a fool of herself.

"Hmm. Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked. "I need you to be sure."

"I..." she started to say, but he cut her off before she could answer.

"Before you decide, you need to understand what that means. I'm not, as I said, a tyrannical predator. But I am..." she swore she could hear him smirk over the phone, "...rather demanding. I'll expect you to do as I say, without questioning. While we're together, you are mine. Completely. Do you trust me enough for that?"

She thought that she did. But what if she was wrong? What if he wanted to do something really kinky? Would she be able to say no? She knew about things like the fuzzy handcuffs a friend had given her during her bachelorette party years ago, but those had sat unused in the closet and finally tossed out during a spring cleaning. Did he mean to tie her up so that she couldn't leave? But he'd stop if she said no, wouldn't he? He wasn't a rapist. How would she know if he was?

He must have sensed her qualms. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want to," he said. "And I have my own limits, as well. I won't hurt you. No pain, no humiliation. If you want to stop, we'll stop. And I'll feel better if you let someone know where you are and when you'll be home."

"My mother has my hotel information," she said, feeling relieved. It was a standard procedure to make sure her whereabouts were known to someone when she went out of town, especially since she'd planned to meet friends she only knew from the online game. The fact that he was suggesting it made her feel safer, and she knew that was why he did it.

"Good. Now... I'll ask you again. Are you sure?"

It was now or never. "Yes," she said.

"Such a good girl. I can't wait to see how eager you are to please me. I've been thinking about it for hours." The tone of his voice had shifted slightly, sounding lower and very, very satisfied. Hearing it made her breath catch in her throat. "I'll be there in about an hour, and you're going to do some things for me while you wait," he continued.

"I want you to go down to the lobby, and leave a room key at the front desk for me. Let them know I'll be there to pick it up shortly. Then you're going to strip and take a nice, relaxing shower. Touch yourself if you like, but you won't be allowed to cum. Not until I tell you to. Understood?"

"I... yes. I understand." She was already so aroused that it was difficult to think, and she'd planned to masturbate as soon as she could get off the phone, so that she wouldn't be a panting mess when he arrived. Waiting was going to be torture.

"When you're done, you can put on your bra and panties, but nothing else. You're going to lay on the bed and wait for me. And I want you to be wet and ready for me when I get there."

She managed to squeak out a breathless reply and it must have been good enough, because he told her he'd see her soon and ended the call. She sat on the bed in a daze, taking deep breaths to calm herself. This was real. She was in too far to back out. Taking a quick look in the mirror, she ran a brush through her hair and freshened her lipstick before practically running out the door clutching both room keys.

The front desk assured her there'd be no problem with her friend picking up the extra key, and she wondered if they knew. Was it obvious? Lots of people had affairs in hotels. She made it back to her room and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling somehow less anxious as the door clicked closed behind her. He couldn't come in here. She had time. She knew she needed to calm herself down or she'd cum the instant she touched the washcloth to her sensitive, dripping pussy. Would he be able to tell? It didn't matter. She wasn't going to start this off by disobeying the very first order he gave her. She ran the water as hot as she could stand it, then shed her clothing and stepped in.

10 minutes later, she'd washed her hair and shaved her legs, and felt that she'd relaxed enough to run the soapy cloth over her body without exciting herself to the point of no return. It felt good, too good, as she soaped her full breasts and hesitantly reached down to clean between her legs. She finished up in a hurry before temptation clouded her mind, rinsed off and got out of the shower. After wrapping herself in one of the hotel's luxuriously thick towels, she glanced at the time and saw that she had half an hour before he arrived. She decided to blowdry her hair and style it, wanting to look her best for him. That done, she went back into the room and took a pair of black satin panties and a matching bra from her suitcase. She'd tried to avoid dwelling on her body in the shower, but now she couldn't help it. Would he like how she looked? She was slim enough, but she thought her butt was too big and her breasts too small. Well, nothing she could do about it. Slipping into the lingerie, she lay down on the bed and waited.

Her heart was pounding. She didn't know what would happen. She felt exhilarated, terrified, anxious, and eager all at the same time. And aroused. So very aroused. She'd soaked her panties already and kept catching herself as her hand strayed downwards. If something didn't happen soon, she was going to burst.

At that moment, she heard the sound of a key in the lock, and before she could take a breath, the door opened. Involuntarily she squeezed her eyes closed and let out a soft cry of panic or excitement, she didn't know which. When she opened her eyes he was standing beside the bed, looking at her with a knowing smile.

"You're beautiful like this," he said. "So eager. Almost panting."

She thought her heart was going to pound right out of her chest. He reached out and ran his hand across the swell of her breasts, and she squeaked a little. "Hey," he told her. "Shh. You're wound so tight... come here." He sat down on the side of the bed and patted the space beside him. Trying not to shake, she sat up and scooted over next to him. Before she knew what was happening, he'd scooped her up and pulled her into his lap, holding her close while he rubbed her back to calm her. She let out a long breath and melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling very stupid. Why was she so nervous? She wanted this. And it felt incredibly good to be close to him. He was warm and he smelled of soap and cologne and that indefinable scent of maleness that was comforting and arousing at the same time. And his touch on her skin made her suddenly aware of how little she was wearing.

"Don't be. It's okay. Feeling better?" he asked. She nodded.

"Good." As he spoke, she felt his hand on her back slide up and undo the clasp on her bra. "I want to see you," he said. "Take it off."

She did as instructed, letting the straps slide down her arms until she could pull the satin away from her body and drop it on the floor. He made a pleased sound, then put his hands around her waist and turned her so that she was facing him and straddling his lap. He cupped her breasts in both hands, playing with them and moving his thumbs over her nipples as she'd done herself earlier. The touch was like an electric shock that ran straight to her pussy, and she couldn't help her soft gasp, or the way she reacted unthinkingly by trying to grind herself against him. She could feel the bulge in his jeans pressing against her wet panties and she rubbed herself shamelessly against it.

"You're going to drive me crazy," he murmured. "If you keep doing that I won't be able to help myself."

She didn't want to stop, didn't want him to. She reached a hand down between them, but he caught her wrist before she could touch. "No. Not yet." Picking her up by the waist again he moved her off his lap, and then stood up. He looked down at her and smiled. "I'd intended to do this a bit differently, but I don't have the patience."

She watched him silently, waiting to be told what to do.

"Come here. I want you on your knees in front of me." He started to undo his jeans, and she knelt before him, her breath coming in quick pants. She watched as he kicked off the jeans, his hard cock straining against the single button on his boxers. He sat back down on the bed and beckoned towards her. "You know what to do," he said.

Yes, she did. She moved closer, kneeling between his legs, and carefully undid the button to free his swollen cock. It was as big and thick as she remembered, and she could already see the pre-cum at the tip. Leaning forward she took him into her mouth as far as she could, swirling her tongue over his cock, and felt him shudder in pleasure. "Yes, just like that," he said, breathing hard. "Suck on it."

He had one hand resting on the back of her head with firm pressure, and as she stopped to take a breath he held her there and pushed his throbbing cock back into her mouth. She knew she couldn't take it down her throat, he was too big, so she hummed softly and was rewarded with a groan at the vibration. He was going to lose it soon.

He knew that, too. "That's enough," he said, pushing her away. "Get on the bed, take your panties off. Now. I don't want to wait."

The urgency in his voice made her arousal surge, and after she stood up he had her laying on her back and her panties gone faster than she could even think. He spread her legs and slid inside her in one hard thrust, and the sound she made only urged him on. He pulled almost completely out of her aching pussy and slammed back in, and it was too much and not enough, as he fucked her hard and fast, until she couldn't think of anything but him.

"Good girl, that's my little slut," she heard his voice in her ear. "You love this, don't you, love being used like this. I want you to cum for me. Play with your clit while I fuck you. Cum for me, with my cock buried deep in your tight little pussy, I want to feel it." She didn't need any more urging, and the moment her fingers brushed her swollen clit she exploded in pleasure, arching her back, and she said his name over and over, feeling that she'd never cum so hard in her life and didn't want him to stop. He thrust his thick, hard cock into her one more time, hard enough to make her see stars, and spilled his cum deep inside her.

She felt that she was floating, as they lay entangled together, and only realized that she had closed her eyes when she felt something soft encircle her wrist. Blinking, she tried to clear the pleasure-fog from her mind. "What?"

He finished securing the silk tie to each of her wrists before she could protest. "Put your arms over your head," he instructed. She did so, and then found that he'd wrapped... something... around the back of the headboard and tied her wrists to the ends of it. She couldn't get her arms down again.

Satisfied, he rolled onto his side and looked at her with that knowing smile. "I hope you didn't think I was finished with you," he said. "It'll be a bit before I can fuck you again, so let's see how many times I can make you cum until then..."