Trish

All characters are over 18. This is a work of fiction, and all characters, locations, and events are imaginary. I should probably note that there's dominance and submission here, as well as a little light/fake bondage and a tiny amount of (welcome) pain.

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I never thought of myself as the kind of guy who'd have an affair with a friend's wife, but here I am.

When I first met Trish, she was dating Bill. I'd known Bill for a while, as a friend of a friend, and recognized him as a fellow dominant. It was evident in the little things, like the chokers he'd make his girlfriends wear, and the way they'd walk one step behind him and to the side, as if on a leash. I didn't do that, but I knew the signs. Mostly it was evident in how they interacted. Bill liked his submissives to check for permission often, even for normal everyday things, and if you knew what to look for, it was easy to spot the frequent eye contact and the subtle nods of permission. Bill loved feeding Trish bites of his food, and watching her open her mouth and wait expectantly but patiently was always frankly arousing.

Like most good doms, Bill wasn't mean or cruel; he adored Trish (as did everyone who knew her). I can't say what they were like behind closed doors, but in public he was supportive and complimentary. Complementary as well, now that I think of it; they seemed well-matched.

Trish was stunning; tall, voluptuous, with cocoa skin and wavy black hair that evidenced her Puerto Rican and African heritage. And she was brilliant, with an incisive wit and encyclopedic knowledge of trivia that was honestly dumfounding at times. I'd always been attracted to her, and always had the sense she was attracted to me, but nothing had come of it.

I'm not sure what happened, but Trish and Bill broke up, and I didn't see Trish again for four years, when she showed up at a company party with Anthony, one of my coworkers. She was bubbly and exuberant as always, and gave me a warm hug. When he went to the bathroom, we caught up briefly. Turns out Trish and Anthony had been married for almost a year (longer than I'd been at this job). I joked about how odd it was seeing her when she wasn't wearing a choker, and she laughed and held up her enormous wedding ring in response.

Anthony is a classic geek, honestly a bit of a stereotype. Most tech guys aren't actually short, skinny, and a little awkward; most are just normal-looking, and a lot, like me, spend time in the gym. But he made her laugh, and they seemed really happy.

I was dating Irene at the time, and she took an instant dislike to Trish. I was surprised to hear her refer to Trish as a "know-it-all" but on reflection I wonder if Irene felt threatened; I felt a real connection to Trish and she was warm and friendly to me in a way that really drew me in. I wasn't flirting with Trish or anything; I don't do that to my partners, as it's hurtful to make them feel unwanted. Things didn't last with Irene, anyhow. The sex was ok but nothing to write home about, despite her undeniably fine figure and her will to submit, and the rest of our relationship never really progressed much. I think she liked the idea of being dominated more than the reality of being in a relationship with me, so I ended things.

Right after I broke up with Irene, Anthony and Trish invited me to a costume party at their place. Anthony had an enormous mansion, vastly bigger than the 3-bedroom cottage I enjoyed, and during a team-building session at the office he'd shared pictures of the estate when he bought it a few months earlier. The main house was huge, but there was also a poolhouse and in-law quarters along with a sizeable detached garage. Way too much... everything... for someone like me, but look, I won't deny it was a nice place.

I called a few women I knew who I thought would be fun to bring the party, but none were available, in one or more senses of the word. I even phoned an ex (not Irene!) but she couldn't make it. So I did something I never do, and decided to go to the party alone.

I didn't have much in the way of a costume, so after a bit of thinking, I did a little online shopping and found a ball and chain that didn't look ridiculous. For some reason, most had a chain that was only a few links long, but I found one with a foam ball and a plastic chain that looked somewhat realistic. I bought some purple pants to complete the ensemble, and added an old belt. I bent a clothes hangar into a loop and hook that I threaded through my belt, and checked to be sure the ball and chain could hang comfortably there on my hip. I didn't want to carry them the whole night after all.

I suppose I ought to describe myself here. I'm 6'5" and around 260lbs. I lift every day, and have a pretty low bodyfat percentage. Truth is, I'm massive, and I'm cut, and I enjoy the attention being a huge fit guy can bring. You don't need to be big to dominate women, but it sure as hell doesn't hurt. I shave my head, and keep my face clean-shaven as well.

So I showed up to the party as this huge chiseled bare-chested bald guy, in purple pants, and carrying a massive ball and chain. I got a lot of looks, as one might imagine.

Trish saw me, squealed, "Crusher Creel! Glad you could make it!" and ran over to give me a huge hug. She was dressed like the old-school Wonder Woman, with the blue skirt with white stars and the red bustier with the gold eagle. She even had the red-and-white boots, the gold tiara with the red star, and the silver bracelets. A golden rope hung on her belt, along with a small white fanny pack that matched the belt. It was obvious that she didn't just pick this costume up for one party; this was some serious cosplay.

And she looked amazing. I always knew she had a good figure, but she was positively divine, pun sadly intended. The costume was demure enough, and the skirt went down to almost her knees, but she was still showing a lot of skin, and every inch of it was delightful. And oh, those tits! She had to be a D-cup at least, but they showed no signs of sagging.

"Wonder Woman! Thanks for inviting me. I didn't think anyone would recognize the costume, honestly." As I said this, Anthony appeared behind Trish's shoulder and gawped at me. She was several inches taller than him, though her bootheels weren't that high.

"Jack, thanks for coming, man. What... who are you supposed to...?" His mouth opened and closed a couple times, and he looked like a scrawny, bespectacled fish. One dressed up as a centurion, with a plastic shield in one hand and gladius at his belt, but still.

"This is Crusher Creel, known by his enemies as the Absorbing Man," Trish answered for me, grinning and gesturing like I was a prize on a game show. "He can turn his body into any substance he touches."

"Well, come absorb some beer then, and we'll all be safer," Anthony said, and we all laughed.

The party was pretty packed, and from the oversized foyer I could see people filling the main floor, mingling on the sweeping stairs, and leaning on the second floor balcony's balustrade. Anthony led me to the kitchen, and Trish touched my arm, smiling, before turning away to talk to someone demanding her attention. Not at all the same dynamic I remembered from her time with Bill, but hey, people change.

Anthony wanted to show off the place a little, so after securing a beer, I followed him around as he pointed out how he'd spent a lot of his considerable wealth. Again, impressive, but not my style. Still, the place was tastefully decorated, and despite all the obvious money poured into it, it wasn't flashy or gaudy. Just... stupidly big, though I suppose if one wanted to throw a party for a couple hundred people, it was good to have a huge place like this. I wondered absently what it was like with just the two of them, as Anthony asked if I wanted to see his cars.

I followed him to the garage and let him show off; I could tell it made him happy, and anyhow, he had a lot of expensive cars. I made appreciative noises and pretended to care.

During a brief lull in the vehicular onslaught, I asked, "So how's everything with Trish? She seems happy. Good for you both."

Anthony's smile was instant but not entirely authentic, as he said, "Fine, good. She's amazing. Gorgeous. Stunning. I'm so lucky to have her. You knew her before, right?"

I felt a little uncertain what Anthony knew about that period of Trish's life so chose my words carefully. "Yeah, she used to date a guy I knew named Bill. I didn't know her that well though, but she was always sweet." Anthony didn't seem interested in following up so I dropped the subject.

We headed back into the main house, where Anthony peeled off to talk to some people I didn't know, and I excused myself to get another beer.

I wandered for a bit, making small talk with a few attractive women. There was a sexy librarian of particular note, with long brown hair pulled up in a severe ponytail, and reading spectacles low on her cute button nose, and we hit it off. I got her number before the two girlfriends she'd come with pulled her away to leave.

Later in the evening the party was still going strong, but people were trickling out. I went in search of a bathroom, as the two I'd used before were both occupied and had people standing around outside, presumably waiting. I saw Trish coming down a hall I hadn't explored before, and waved as I approached.

"Hi, Jack! Where's Irene anyhow? I assumed she'd meet you here." Trish's full lips twitched into a brief smile.

"I'm here alone. Things didn't work out with Irene," I replied.

"Sorry to hear that. I've never seen you without a beautiful woman on your arm." Her mood was hard to place; maybe a bit wistful? She paused for a second then asked, "Were you looking for a bathroom?"

"I was. I'm sure there are plenty more but the ones I've found so far are all in use. Please help." I was smiling but pretended to be in dire straits, pressing my knees together. The ball and chain rocked back and forth as it hung from my belt.

Trish giggled at my play-acting and said, "There's one in the poolhouse, which is locked, so nobody will be using it. I'll open it for you."

"Thanks. Here, we can fix the absence of a beautiful woman on my arm as we go," I said, holding my arm out to her. She blushed and blinked twice quickly as a wide smile broke out on her face.

She wrapped her arm around mine and laid her warm hand on my wrist, leading me down a hall to some stairs in what I guessed was the back. This place was an absolute maze.

"I've never seen anyone wearing a costume like yours... in person anyhow," she noted as she looked me over, adding, "I knew you were fit but wow. You look great. Really great."

I chuckled then replied with all sincerity, "So do you! You certainly make a convincing goddess. That costume is too elaborate, and you look FAR too sexy in it, for it to be something you threw together for one party. Bit of a Wonder Woman fangirl, are you?"

"Maybe just a bit," she agreed.

"It's the bondage, right?" I couldn't help it; I wanted to push a little, carefully.

"Maybe just a bit," she said, and smiled saucily.

"That's the Trish I remember," I said, gazing fondly at her, and she giggled then caught herself and shrugged.

"Some things change," she said, looking down, and I took the signal to change the subject a bit.

"So how's married life treating you?" I looked over at her as we walked, being sure to look at her eyes and not the amazing cleavage she displayed when I looked from above. We exited the main house and started crossing the grounds. There were several fountains, and carefully maintained topiaries. I felt like I was in a movie about the abuse of excessive wealth.

"It's good. I'm good." She seemed a little hesitant so I decided to lighten things a little.

"You guys sure do have an amazing place. Are you planning on having 20 kids? They and someday their spouses and kids can all live here with you."

She giggled and her breasts jiggled enticingly. "It's a lot of house, but it makes Anthony happy."

We passed the Olympic-sized pool and Trish pulled a key from her belt pouch. She unlocked the door then pushed it open, pointing to the back. "Bathroom's over there. Lock up behind yourself please."

"Wait for me. I'll be right back," I said. She looked surprised but nodded. I hurried over, did my business, washed quickly, and returned.

"Trish," I paused, searching for a way to express my concern, "does all this, does Anthony... make YOU happy? Is everything really ok?" I looked at her belt, where the rope hung, and on impulse I grabbed it and wrapped it lightly around her forearm, still holding onto her wrist. "You have to tell the truth, now."

Her lips were open and her eyes were shining as I bound her, and I could feel her pulse speed up.

"I... wow. OK, fair. You got me." I smirked briefly and nodded, and waited for her to continue.

"Things are... things are good. No relationship is perfect, you know? Anthony loves me, and I love him, but sometimes..." She trailed off and looked sad.

"Does he hurt you?" I realized I'd growled then made a joke of it. "In ways you don't want, I mean?"

Trish giggled and blushed adorably, then sighed. "Not even in the ways I do want."

"Oh. I'm sorry. That's... truly a shame. I remember how you were with Bill." I was still holding her wrist, and I could feel her pulse racing. "Anthony doesn't strike me as the dominant type at all. The type to take what he wants."

"Not like you?" She looked up and flashed a quick smile. She knew the answer already.

"Not like me," I agreed, giving her wrist a squeeze. My cock started to harden as I held her, and there was no denying how much I wanted her.

Looking down, I ran my finger down her bracelet and said, "What are these called, Wonder Woman? The original name, I mean." I looked her in the eyes again. I knew the answer but wanted her to say it.

"They're the Bracelets of," she said, then she gasped, and her breath caught for a moment as her eyes searched my face. After a few seconds she continued in a huskier voice, looking deep into my eyes, "Submission. If a man chains them together I lose my powers."

I grabbed her other wrist and pushed it together with the first one. Holding both her forearms in one big hand, I grabbed the plastic chain from my belt with the other and wrapped it quickly around her wrists.

Her chest was heaving, and I could see the pulse fluttering in her neck. Her pupils dilated, and her lips parted. I was watching for signs of arousal and submission, of course, and happily I saw both. I was already feeling a powerful and monstrous arousal and strained to keep it in check. For now.

I stepped in closer and lowered my voice. "And what happens then?"

She maintained eye contact and shivered. "Then... he could do whatever he wanted with me, and I'd be powerless." That was what I wanted to hear.

"Whatever he wanted," I asked, and she nodded.

My voice was low but steady. "Get on your knees then."

Her response was instant. Gracefully she dropped to her knees, and she put her "bound" hands in her lap. She glanced at my bulging crotch then looked back up into my eyes.

I was rock hard. I put my hands on my fly, about to open it, and I said, "Whatever I want." It wasn't a question this time.

She nodded quickly three times, betraying her eagerness, so I pulled my cock out. "Show me."

Trish wordlessly went to work with a will, leaning forward and taking me deep into her mouth until she choked. She held it there for a few seconds making gasping noises, then pulled back and started bobbing up and down, all the time sucking forcefully.

I reached down and pulled the top of her bustier down, revealing her Amazonian breasts. Her nipples were large with puffy areolas: they looked like Hershey's kisses. As she sucked me, I took each of those delicious confections in my hands and pinched and twisted them, hard. She let out a satisfied "Mmm," but never stopped sucking.

I let go with one hand and put it on her forehead, pushing her off my cock. She was reluctant for half a second then obeyed, stopping her suction and pulling back. She stared at my cock with obvious hunger but then looked back up at my eyes as I wrapped my hand around her throat.

"That's a good start, but I want more. I'm going to take more, and you're going to enjoy it, aren't you?"

She sat there, her astonishing firm tits exposed, her posture perfect, and whispered, "Yes."

"Good girl. Bend over that couch there and spread your legs." There was no hesitation at all; she was up so fast she nearly jumped, and quickly walked to the couch. She spread her feet wide then bent over the arm of the couch.

God, she was desirable. If Anthony couldn't or wouldn't give her what she needed, I damned well would.

I lifted her skirt then roughly pulled her panties down. They were a matching blue; she really took this costume seriously. I stood over her, looking down, while she breathed heavily and waited.

Her ass was absolutely glorious, full and luscious. I pulled her panties the rest of the way down and lifted her foot so she could step out of them, then pushed her legs open wider. She complied immediately and wordlessly both times.

Reaching down, I ran a finger along her nether lips. She was trimmed but kept short hairs along her lips, and she was wet, delightfully so. I pushed my finger between her lips and drew it up, covered in her juices. Bending over, I held it in front of her, and she eagerly took it into her mouth and sucked it clean.

"That was yours. This is mine." I reached back down and this time I slid a finger into her pussy. There was no resistance, and she shivered deliciously. I pulled the finger back out and licked it, and she was every bit as delectable as I'd always imagined.

I did what came naturally and buried my cock in her, slowly, pulling out then pushing back in yet more again and again gradually until I was bruising her cervix and she'd stopped breathing for a second. She was more than wet enough despite my girth and she gave a low moan as I impaled her. She was absolutely exquisite, wrapped around me.

"Normally I'd take my time and savor you," I growled, "but I'm just going to fuck you senseless this time."

I put a hand on the small of her back and pushed her down against the couch, while the other fist wrapped in her hair and pulled. Her moan of approval was interrupted as I started pounding her roughly, and the end of the moan was a series of "Uh! Uh! Uh!" noises that just increased my ardor.

Every sense was aflame. She was staggeringly beautiful, she smelled like peaches and honey, she kept gasping and moaning in pleasure, and above all she felt utterly perfect, hot and wet and firm and tight. I held nothing back, and fucked her fast and hard and rough, taking what I wanted, giving her what she needed.

As I kept pumping, I grabbed her tits and pressed my body to her and thrust again and again, slapping loudly against her ass with every push. I was pretty worked up, and it'd been weeks since I'd had sex, and everything about her aroused me intensely, so it was only around 10 minutes in all before I came. I pushed into her all the way, as deep as she could take me, and held there as I spurted again and again, filling her with my seed.

When I finished, my hands on her tits became a hug, and I held her closely for a while as my cock softened and eventually slipped out of her. She was gasping and trembling and took some time to catch her breath and calm down. Kissing her shoulder, I whispered, "You were a very good girl, Wonder Woman. I'll release you."

"Mmmm. Thank you," she purred. She stood up slowly, a little wobbly, and looked down. My cum was running down her leg and had almost reached her knee. She wiped some up and licked it off her fingers with a grin before heading to the bathroom, panties in hand.