"Transformation " 2/3, a wife watching


He opened the bag he brought with him, and pulled out two Stouts. "I hope you
don't mind."

She took one of the beers, and just as it was being opened our front door bell
rang. I got on a robe - yes, I was naked on our bed, watching channel 30 - to
find the pizza guy there.

"It must be my tenant who ordered that," I said, pointing him toward the path
around to the apartment.

I was back in the bedroom in time to see Joseph paying for the pizza, and
apologizing to the delivery man. "Yeah", the guy was saying, "it's only after 9
and I think your landlord was already in bed. I must have disturbed him."

'Betty' can be wicked, sometimes. She went to the phone, and dialed our number!

"Mr. Barnes, it's Betty downstairs." she said to me. "I'm sorry about the pizza
delivery confusion. The delivery guy didn't disturb you, did he?"

I made some noises in the phone, and she, turned, smiling, towards the HAVC vents
so that Joseph couldn't see, stuck her tongue out at me, and hung up!

They were soon sitting on the sofa, beer, pizza, and napkins occupying them.

"Some date, huh, Betty?"

"Joseph, it's different, and kind of fun. I'm glad you came."

Their conversation meandered as slices were eaten.

"Joseph, tell me more about being married three times. What happened? Did you
choose wrong wives, or did you cheat, or did they, or what?"

He paused for a while. "It's not easy to talk about, I don't like screwing up. My
shrink told me I'm like a lot of other cops. When you run around with a gun all
day, expecting people to obey you, you get to be control freaks. That carried
over to my marriages - I'm OK for a while, but then want to control everything!
What about you?"

"My marriage was all right," Tina/Betty said, "I'll tell you about it, but tell
me more about this control thing."

"Control!" went though my mind like a bolt. "Convents control everything! That
explains a lot, even about her dealing with the flooding thing. She likes being
controlled!"

Joseph was talking: "Sometimes I wanted to control everything. Sometimes I even
handcuffed my last wife. I was having fun, but after a while she didn't like it.
It's hard to explain. . . tell me about your story for a while."

"OK. My marriage was OK, I thought, but my husband just wasn't happy with me
sexually. He was the only guy I ever had sex with, and, you know, I just didn't
know how to please him."

"He must have been a jerk."

"No, he really isn't. It's just that, like, all of my life I thought sex was
making love. He wanted it just be sex sometimes. Not making love, with all of the
inner stuff that goes on, just having physical pleasure."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"I don't know how to be that way."

"You should try it sometime. Let your hair down, it can be fun. You been dating a
lot since you  split?"

"No. I just couldn't get my courage up. Joseph, you're the first guy I dated
since I moved into this apartment."

"Oh. I didn't realize that.  I guess that's an honor.  Are you scared getting out
in the world again?"

"Yeah, and since I'm going to be moving back to Pennsylvania next week  I didn't
want to start anything here. But then I figured out a couple of  nights out would
be fun."

Joseph nodded, the story made sense to him.

By now the pizza was gone.

She wandered over to his equipment belt. "What all do you carry?"

"You can see the pistol - it's a 9 millimeter automatic. We carry a baton" - he
showed her that - "pepper spray, a couple sets of 'cuffs. . ."

"More than one set?"

"Yeah. The department issues one set, but most of us buy extras. Bad guys come in
pairs, sometime."

"Do you use cuffs on women, too?"

"Oh yeah - department regulations. Women are dangerous, too."

"What's it like to be handcuffed?"

"Well, you're pretty helpless, unless you've had a lot of experience wearing
them. They're not all that bad, I guess. Want to try them on?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Show me!"

"OK". In an instant he had her hands cuffed behind her back. "See, you aren't
much of a threat to me when you have these one,  but it's not uncomfortable, is
it?"

"No. . . I do feel helpless, though."

"Well, in that case. . ." he turned her to him, embraced her, and kissed her -
quickly, but firmly. He then turned her again, and had the cuffs released in an
instant.

"Uh!" she said - "do you do that to all the women you handcuff?"

"I don't think I could get away with that. You said you felt helpless, and it's
that control thing. I have to be careful about that."

He went to sit on the sofa - she went to the wall light switch, turned it off, so
the lighting was just from a table lamp - more than enough for my sensitive
cameras, but more romantic.

"Here it comes" I thought/hoped.

He sat beside her, got an arm around her, turned her face towards his, and a kiss
started.

She just didn't respond - she sat there, her arms at her sides.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that - not then, and not before," he almost
apologized.

"No. No, I liked it. Joseph, I'm just scared. You're the first guy I kissed,
since, you know. . ."

"You're really up tight about me being here, aren't you? If you're not having fun
I should go."

"No, it's not that. Look, this dating is all new to me. I don't know how it's
supposed to go. . ."

"I do. It's supposed to be fun. Like, like, well, eating pizza or something.
Like, well, handcuffing you. Man, in the old days, if I had a prisoner like you.
. ."

She interrupted - "You liked cuffing me?"

"Sure. Like I told you,  I like being in control."

"Uh. . .I kind of liked feeling helpless, and NOT being in control."

Joseph is a smart cop. He picked up that idea right away. "Some people do like
stuff like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Look. Some of us like being in control, some people are more comfortable when
they're being dominated - it means they're not really responsible for what
happens, I guess."

"You know a lot about that stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, like I said I played games like that with my last wife a few times - it's
a big turn on for me. It was fun for her, too."

"Tell me about it."

"I don't like talking about ex wives, OK? I'll tell you a little bit. We did it
like this. I'd be in charge. I did whatever I wanted - what I think would be fun
for me, and for her.  But - and this is very important - if I started to go too
far she  just had to say a magic word - we used 'Herman' - and I had to stop,
right then, and put things right, like taking off the handcuffs, and everything.
No questions, no pleading. The cuffs or whatever come off, I stopped what I was
doing, period. Simple, huh?"

"You could do anything you want!?"

"Right up until she said  'Herman'. That's right."

"What kind of things did you do?"

"Uh - well, sexy things."

"I guess I knew that. But what, specifically?"

"Come on, Betty, this is embarrassing. I hardly know you."

"Joseph, I don't know anything about stuff like that. Please tell me."

"OK. Like, sometimes we would act out a rape or something. Or, I'd handcuff her
and undress her and we'd have sex. Or, like in real life, I'd be a cop. . ."

"That's not so bad. What else? What's the worst thing you ever did with her?"

"Come on, Betty. . ."

"No, tell me. I'm really interested."

"She really got turned on by guns."

"Oh. I was raised in Pennsylvania, I like them, too."

"No, that's not what I mean. Like, once, well, I unloaded my nine millimeter, and
we played touching games and stuff, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, she liked to feel it on her neck, things like that."

I could see Tina's body language. This was getting to her!

"Joseph - did you only touch her neck with it?"

"Uh - no."

"What else did you touch?"

"Damn it, it was foreplay!"

"Her breasts?"

"Yeah, sure, her breasts."

"And more?"

"Yeah, more, we used it like a sex toy: it was foreplay, damn it! I don't want to
talk about her any more, OK?"

There was a pause.

"OK," she agreed. "No more talk about that. There's a couple of cans of beer
left. Let's open them."

She got up, did that, got the CD player running, and sat next to Joseph, each
with a beer. The room was quiet for a moment.

"I guess I understand about wanting to be in control."

"I don't want to talk about that any more!"

"I didn't mean to talk about her. It's just that that's so new to me.  Joseph, do
you always follow the rules, like the Herman rule, when you play?"

"Absolutely! If I didn't, and I was playing with someone who wasn't my wife, I
could be accused of anything. I'd be in a whole world of trouble. Like, if I had
someone handcuffed, they could accuse me of false arrest, or kidnapping, or rape,
or anything. I'd lose everything, I could even go to jail."

"So you have to trust whoever you're controlling - trust her a lot, huh?"

"Yeah, but she has to trust me, too."

'Betty' drank from her can. So did he.

I thought I knew where this was going. She asked again, "If you were playing, all
the person would have to do is say 'Herman", right?  It's that simple?"

"Yeah, why do you keep asking? But yeah, Herman stops everything." Joseph was
looking at her, questioningly. "You never did bondage or submission, things like
that, did you?"

"A long time ago, submission, yes, but it was a religious thing, not a sexual
one. I've always been inhibited sexually."

"Submission takes sexuality out of your hands, you give yourself completely to
your master - at least that's what the boss is called."

"Oh."

You want to try it, don't you?"

"If I did, would  you stop if I say Herman?"

How obvious, I thought - it IS flooding!

"Ahhh. Yes. If you want to play, it'll be great! I NEVER played with someone I
didn't know really well already, and I hardly know you. Jesus! Do you want to?"

Small voice - "I do."

Joseph stood up, and looked at the woman he knew as Betty.

His voice changed temper - it got lower, almost threatening.

"Stand up, Miss!"

She did.

"Put your arms behind you."

She did.

He turned her around -  I could hear a click - and she was handcuffed again.

"I'm gonna love this!" he said.

"Don't hurt me. . ."

"It's not about hurting. It's about stuff like this."

He turned her again, kissed her again.

She didn't protest - she stood there, almost unresponsive.

"I like this." He turned her again, so he was  behind her, and he pulled her to
him, his hands creeping up her sides, still holding her close.

His hands moved in front, one below the other, moving, down, then up, caressing
her torso.

They moved  higher, and higher, to just under her breasts.

I noticed she leaned back against him.

"I like doing things like this." I watched as his palms turned upward, under her
breasts, supporting them, weighing them, from beneath..

"See," he continued, "nothing that happens is caused by you, it's all being done
by me. You're innocent."

I could see Tina take a sharp breath! She was being touched sexually, blatently,
and she was helpless. Flooding!!!

She said nothing, still  not resisting, not moving.

Finally his hands were on her blouse, over her breasts.

"I can't stop you from doing that, can I?"

"No!" gruffly.

He leaned down, kissing at her ear.

She tilted her head, making it easier for him.

He bent more, his mouth tracing from ear to neck.

"That's nice" she said, in a whisper.

"There's a lot more to come." His mouth was busy again.

"You're going awfully fast. . ."

After a moment, he maneuvered her so that he could reach his equipment belt - one
of his hands found his baton!

Still holding a breast with one hand, he brought the baton in front of the both
of them.

He traced it along the side of her head, down beside her ear.

"I like using this. I like threatening people with it. It excites me!"

I saw as he turned the two of them a little, so they were facing the full length
mirror we mounted behind the main door.

"Open your eyes - look at us!" he commanded.

She did.

The baton extended from her ear across her cheek.

He moved it, down to her shoulder, up again, under her chin, raising her head.

He moved it higher, his hand in front of her, so it was across her face, almost
to her other ear.

And he drew it across her cheek, across her lips.

"Open your mouth!"

She shook her head no.

I saw him press the shaft  against her lips!

"Open!"

She did, a little, and he moved so that the baton was across her lips.

"Kiss it!"

Nothing. She did nothing.

"Submit yourself, do what you're told to do. Kiss it."

I saw her lips purse a little.

"Use your lips, use your tongue. Really kiss it. You have no choice, I'm in
control."

Her mouth opened a little more, and her tongue was on the baton.

"That's better -- that's very sexy."

He drew that long dark thing  along her lips, until the tip was at her mouth.

"Take it in your mouth."

Nothing!

"I'm in cotrol, do it!"

She turned to face the baton, her mouth opened, and encompassed its rounded end.

It was completely erotic, seeing that!

He watched, and I watched, as she carefully moved her head, taking in an inch or
two, then withdrawing, and again, and again. She was giving a blow job to the
baton, standing there, and my own cock erupted!

That tableau continued for a minute or two.

"You're doing good at that!"

It was only a baton, and it was the sexest thing I had ever seen!.

Her head was moving with the same pace on it  as other women's  heads and mouths
moved along my own cock, a long time ago.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

She nodded affermatively.

"Good! Cops depend on that. I want to move on."

He tossed the baton to the chair.

His hands began moving again, up over her breasts, and down, over her stomach.

They were both watching the action in the mirror, him behind her, her hands still
handcuffed.

Finally, his hand rose, to her throat.

To the buttons on her dress.

And released the top one.

And the next one.

Now he was kissing at her ear again, and at her neck again, while she watched
their reflection.

A kiss.

Another button, by now the one between her breasts.

He could, and did, pull the neckline with his lips, so he could kiss at her
shoulder.

And another button.

And another.

It was unbuttoned to her waist, open a little, her black slip showing.

He looked in the mirror, too.

"Nice slip."

His lips were still at her shoulder, his fingers lifting the dress, to the next
button,

And the next.

And the last!

Now the dress hung, open, revealing a few inches of slip, from her chest to above
her knees.

He stood tall, now, still behind her, and they both watched as he opened the
dress, now more like an open robe, past her shoulders, down her arms, draping
behind her, held up only by her hands.

"Very nice slip: I'm glad you were it for me. You look sexy!"

Still no comment from her - but no resistance, either.

My own cock was hard again!

He reached into his pocket, got out the key, and controlling her carefully
released one bracelet, slid the dress off that hand, then the other, and
reattached the cuff. He was so smooth - he'd done all of this before, but never
with my wife!

I watched as she watched as his hands traced up and down her sides, her waist,
her hips, her thighs, and up again.

"Kick off your shoes now."

She did.


He was standing close behind her, pushing into her hands.

"Feel how excited I am!"

"What. . .?"

"Don't act innocent. You can feel my cock through my trousers!"

Oh! her hands were right there!

"Uh, yes, yes I can, it's. . ."

"Yes, it's hard, and big! And you know why, don't you?"

She nodded yes.

"Good." He moved away a little, and I watched as his fingers, on her thighs, were
working, lifting her slip.

She watched, her mouth open, as finally his fingers found her panty hose clad
legs under her slip.

He lifted his hands higher, bending a little, his hands were covered by the slip
now, going up until they  were waist high.

Then he knelt, and pulled!

And down came panties and panty hose, to her knees, to her ankles!

"Step out of them."

She lifted one foot, and he pulled the tangle free.

And then the other foot.

"Now we're getting somewhere" he muttered.

She had nothing to say, standing there, wearing only a slip and bra, in front of
a cop, the slip dark enough to be concealing, clinging enough to revealing. . . .
He stood behind her, moving close again. His hands were busy between them - doing
something with the handcuffs, I wondered, until, his hands appeared on her hips,
drawing her back, against, him.

The expression on her face changed to surprise - shock!

"Now you can really feel how excited you make me," he declared.

He had unzipped his pants, loosened his belt, and pulled out his cock. Her hands,
still handcuffed behind her, were on it - the only other erect cock I think she
had ever felt.

"Go on, keep touching  it - hold it!" he commanded.

I guess she did, because they both stood there, his hands gliding up and down her
sides, hers, behind her back, touching, measuring. . .

"I want to feel my cock to touch your body. Pull your slip up in the back."

I watched their reflection, and could tell from the wrinkles in her slip, and its
movement to her mid thighs, that she was obeying.

Her hands, I could tell, were just about as high as her buttocks.

"Lift it higher."

I saw movement, and now they had to be at the small of her back.

And her mouth formed an "O" as he pulled her back hard against him, his penis,
I'm sure, pressing against her nude ass.

"That's what a man in control feels like," he rasped, his hips making small
cycles, her face reddened, and I thought, covered with a sheen of perspiration.
She wasn't objecting, though, to the movement of his penis between her buttocks,
to his mouth on her neck.

The pair of them turned, so I could see their sides - she had one hand holding
the slip, the other around the shaft of his cock! There's no wonder why his hips
were moving that way - she was masturbating him against her ass!

"This," he said after a minute, "is foreplay. I'm tired of foreplay. Let's gp  to
your bedroom."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"It is an order."

She released his cock, and her slip, and without looking at him walked to the
bedroom.

He adjusted himself, getting his cock back inside his pants, grabbed something,
and followed, a few feet behind.

I switched cameras, in time to see her standing at the foot of the bed, looking
at it. He walked to the bed, and pulled the covers off.

She stood, watching, still in her slip, her bra, as the bed, an alter where she
was going to be sacrificed,  was made ready. She knew how to stop him, I knew. A
simple word. Would she say it?

Not yet!

He went to her, facing her, pulled her to him, embraced her. He was inches taller
than she was, and bent down toward her. She responded, raising her head, meeting
his lips!

His arms, holding her to him, dropped from her back to her hips.

Would he continue? Would she allow him to?

I was distracted by my own cock's demand for attention, as I watched the kiss
continue, until I noticed. . .

. . I saw

. . . I saw his hands, on her hips, weren't idle.

They were gathering the material of her slip!

Already it was raised past her mid thighs,

then her nude hips!

He moved away an inch or so, creating a space, so that now he could lift it
higher, while still engaging in the kiss. She allowed the space to continue,
moving her hips away a little, too.

I watched as he lifted - my side view was perfect - higher than her hips, her
sides. . .

And he broke the kiss for a minute - they maintained eye contact - and he lifted
higher, then moved his hands more to the front, and the eye contact was broken
for a moment as the massed material of slip was lifted over her face, over her
head, and down her back, until it was covering her hands, prevented from going
further by the cuffs.

He continued to stare into her eyes as his hands left the slip, and moved up her
back, to her bra strap. How could he avoid looking down, she was naked except for
the bra.

And he released that, too!

It hung, limply, from her shoulders, still covering her.

He took her by the shoulders, and pushed her to the bed.

Onto it.

She sat there, legs tightly together, concealing herself as best she could.

He, however, had done this before, He knew what he was going to do, and how best
to do it, much better than we did.

He got behind her.

Pulled/lifted her to the middle of the bed.

Again went to his pocket, got the key, and released one bracelet of the
handcuffs.

He brushed off the slip, pushed that arm foreword, and pushed the bra strap off
it - "What  beautiful breasts my wife has," I thought, as it was exposed for the
first time, "and look at how erect that nipple was. She's really turned on!"

By then he had repeated the action with the other side of the bra - now she was
naked! Since he was holding her arms behind her, she couldn't even cover herself!

But that wasn't enough for him.

>From behind, he reached around, put his hand under her knee, and pulled - she
bent her leg. It took him only a second to attach the handcuff bracelet to her
ankle, so that hand and ankle were attached.

>From his pocket he brought other set of cuffs, and moving a little, got one end
attached to the other ankle.

"I'm going to show you what helpless really is now. Give me your other hand."

She extended it, toward her ankle, and it too was bound.

He, from behind her, grasped her shoulders, and pulled, so that she was on her
back.

Take a break, readers, and take your lover with you into the bedroom. Try out
this position, wrists bound to ankles. The story will be here when you return. I
don't think you'll be back too quickly, though.

He got off the bed, and moved to its foot.

She lay there, watching him, knees together, waiting.

"Are you helpless?"

"Yes, never more helpless. You're in control, I can't stop you from doing
whatever you want."

"Good."

He pulled his shirt free of his slacks, unbuttoned its cuffs,  and the rest of
the buttons too, and off.

He pulled his tee shirt over his head, too.

Raised a foot, got that shoe and sock off.

And the other one, too.

Staring at her, he released his belt buckle, undid the clasp of his uniform
trousers.

The fly was already down - and he stepped out of his pants, leaving only his
briefs on.

"Betty!" he said firmly.

She looked at him questioningly.

"You do remember the rules, don't you?"

She nodded.

"In another minute, 'Herman' isn't going to work. This is your last chance. If
you're going to say it, say it now."

She was silent!

We both watched as his hands found his own waistband, and then, those briefs were
down and off, too.

My wife was facing a nude man, only the second one she had seem in this condition
in her life.

"I'm afraid" she whispered in a quiet voice, so quiet I could hardly hear her.

He bent over, picking up the baton he brought with him to the bedroom.

He walked, nude, to the foot of the bed. Knelt on it.

He leaned toward her, the baton a weapon.

He traced it down along her face - she opened her mouth for it, as she had
before.

He teased her lips with it, then stopped, and moved it to her neck, lower.

"This is a great sex toy, too."

It moved down, over her throat.

Its end moved along her breast, and pressing down, over it, indenting it, its
side pressing down on her nipple.

"This is control. This is power. This really gets me going!"

The baton moved down, over her belly, and up one of her legs to her knees..

He forced it between her her tightly clenched knees, and down, against her
pelvis.

"It's uncomfortable for you to keep your legs together  when I use handcuffs like
that: relax them."

I saw them move apart a few inches.

The baton moved lower. Tina, sweet Tina, actually tilted her pelvis toward it! I
couldn't see what was happening, but his hand began  making  small motions,
gentle motions, , twisting, pushing a little, twisting again, moving it, exciting
her. I could see her stomach quivering as she took short, gasping breaths.

Then he brought it to his own face.

I watched him as he put it in his own mouth!

Tina and I both watched him lick it!

"You taste good."

He did it! He had put it IN her - he fucked her with it!

He dropped the damned thing to the floor, and moved to the side of the bed, he
knelt on it, his knees near her shoulder.

Tina was helpless in front of him.

He leaned toward her, his hand reaching toward the back of her head. That hand
grabbed a handful of hair. He grasped it: he used it to lift her head to his
lips! It was not a loving kiss - it was an erotic one!

"You liked me using my night stick," he grunted, ending the kiss. "You'll like
using me, too, and me using you."

He used his hold on her hair to force her head back, exposing her throat.

He bent foreword. His mouth found that, too!

She had never been treated like that before.

His mouth moved down, from her throat - until he was at her breast.

He lifted his head a little, I could see her breast extend, pulled by his mouth,
as he sucked it as he moved.

The hand holding her hair freed itself, and twisted at one nipple as his mouth
teased the other.

I watched - and she had her head up a little now, too, watching, because he was
no longer at her breast. He twisted a little more, so that he was licking at her
stomach.

And he moved a little more, so that his head was at her pelvis, and first one
hand, then the other, met at her groin.

Tina turned a little away from me. She was looking right at his erect penis - in
this position it wasn't more than a few inches from her face.

He seemed to be spreading her vulva with his hands - his lips were close to it,
he seemed to be blowing cool air at it, as a child might to cool down something
before eating it.

"You want this, don't you?" It was an unnecessary question, of course she did.

"Yes!"

Her hips bucked - his mouth found her, open, ready.

His torso was twisted, knees still at her shoulders, but he moved a little, and
his cock moved closer to her.

Then, like the baton earlier, it lay across her lips.

He raised his head a little, looking under his twisted torso, at her face, at his
cock.

I heard him say what I expected: "Do me, too."

She shook her head - she didn't want to.

He knelt upright again, abandoning her cunt.

His hand found her hair again, and tightened around it, holding her head firmly.

He had is cock in his other hand. He moved so that his penis lay across her lips.

"Do me!"

He forced its shaft across her lips, but she resisted , keeping them closed.

"Take him" I said aloud to the monitor screen. "Take him in your mouth!"

His cock brushed across her cheek, back to her lips, again and again, scortum
against her chin, him domanent over her.

It happened! She pursed her lips against that shaft, as she did to the baton.

Then her lips opened.

He moved again, drawing his shaft along those lips, until its  tip was at her
lips.

He pushed,

forcing,

and finally,

finally,

there was a motion,

and he let her hair go,


because the end of his cock found its way into her mouth.

I saw my wife's lips close around it.

"You know what to do," he muttered, as he withdrew, turned, lowered his head
again, going down on her again, and I watched, fascinated,

as he moved over her, straddling her,

as she raised her head,

following the motion of his hips,

and took a little more into her mouth,

and how his hips followed her head as she lay it back on the bed.

I could see her cheeks indent, as she sucked at him!

His own  mouth was working, too, his tongue in her, tasting what his baton had,
earlier. Each time he'd raise his hips, she'd lift her head, following his cock,
not giving it up.

His own head was between her legs, sucking at her, his tongue being a small
penis, exciting her,

until,

in a few moments,

Tina sagged back, panting, flaccid, because he drove her over the edge.

He was close, too.

He rolled off her, his hand grasping the head of his cock, squeezing it in the
classic maneuver to avoid premature ejaculation.

"Not like that", he said, "I don't want to come like that. I want to be in your
cunt."

He moved to the side of the bed, his face wet with his saliva, and her juices.

He took the pillows, bunched them, forced a hand under the small of her back, and
lifted.

She helped a little, lifting her hips, until both pillows were under her ass.

Now, at the bed's foot, his hands found her knees, and pushed them apart.

I had never seen anything as sexy, as obscenely erotic, as Tina, there, her hips
lifted by the pillows, hands attached to ankles, spread as wide as she could be.

He knelt between those knees, leaned foreword,

and that's what adultery looks like, what being cuckolded looks like, as he
rammed into her, almost frantically, the first penetration fast, not gentle.

He started to go  slower, and deeper, as he neared his peak.

The best part was that Tina was moving under him, lifting to meet him, her
buttocks being driven back to the pillows when he pushed into her.

Soon enough, he grunted his way to an orgasm, and  he emptied himself into her,
and too soon to be romantic, , rolled off her, and lay beside her.

They were both breathing heavily, almost puffing.

Tina, still shackled, recovered first, and looked at him.

"Joseph?"

"Huh?" he wheezed.

"Joseph, I don't think I like submission and bondage."

"Huh?"

"Take these off, Joseph, I feel lousy about doing what we did."

"Oh."

He got out of the bed, fumbled in his pants pocket, and in a minute had the cuffs
off.

His hand went to her crotch while she rubbed her wrists.

"Want more without bondage, baby?"

"I had enough, Joseph. I wondered about not being in control, and now I know,
it's not for me. Fun one time, but no more, not for me."

"It works for some people," he told her, "I want it to work for women I'm with, I
like the control."

"It doesn't  work for me."

The mood in the room had changed.

"Betty, we just had sex,  you went down on me, and I did you, too. You can't take
that back."

"It's time to stop, Joseph. You should probably go home now."

"It'll be much nicer if we spend the night together, Betty."

"I don't want to do that, I really need some time along."

"But. . ."

"No but's, you're starting to ruin a good evening. Maybe you'd better go home,
Joseph."

She got out of bed, and handed  his pants to him.

By then I pulled my robe on, ready to go down and rescue her.

No need. He pulled on some clothes, carried others to the door.

"I'm sorry, Betty. I thought it would work out better. Goodnight."

And he left.

The outer door to the apartment slammed a few seconds before I opened the inner
one, that opened to the rest of the house. Tina, tears in her eyes, wrapped in
her robe, was in my arms.

"Don't hate me for doing that, for lettinging him do that to me, Bob, I'm sorry."

"Everything's OK," I told her.

"It must have been awful for you to see that!"

I held her, still aroused by the sights, the memories.

"I feel cheap, and used, and like a tramp. I hate that I did that! How can you
ever want me, or even touch me again, after that."

I muttered something about loving her all the more, but I was too distracted to
pay attention to the words. This woman, wrapped in her robe, smelled of sex!

Smelled of another man!

She was, I realized, still wet with him!

I couldn't help myself.

I took up to our our room, our bed, offering what comfort I could.

We lay on it, her head was nestled into my shoulder, and I moved, and moved her,
until we were face to face. "How can you hold me, or even touch me, after I did
that?"

I rolled towards her a little, so that she was on her back, my head above hers.

And I moved down towards her.

"No, no, honey, don't kiss me, not yet, I want to wash myself,  I took  his penis
in my . . ."

"I know, it's all right," I told her, and my lips smothered the last  word.

Her lips were closed, clenched.

I lifted my head enough to say "I love you, Tina", and lowered it again.

"But his penis was there, honey", she started to say, until my tongue pressed
against her lips for a moment, then against her teeth for a  moment, then met
hers, the same tongue that. . .

and I ejaculated again, a little, quietly, while my mind replayed the image of
what was, a few minutes ago,  where I was, now.

And Tina responded, her holding me to her, kissing back.

"Tell me you're not mad at me," she muttered through the kiss.

"I'll prove I'm not."

I pulled at her robe, opening it.

My hand traced down her body, between her legs - so hot, so wet.

"No, wait until I wash, don't touch me!"

"I'll show you I'm not mad."

"Let me take a shower," she said, starting to sit up, "and then come back and
love you."

"No, no, love me now, let me love you . . ."

"But I'm dirty, I'm covered with his sweat, his saliva, his, his. . .I stink with
him!"

My lips stopped her talking.

I forced her down again.

I kissed her lips again.

"I watched every minute," I said, "I know what happened."

There were  tears in her eyes.

"How can you touch  me, after that?"

"Like this, does this prove I'm not mad?" I said, and kissed her lips again.

She kissed back, accepting my proof.

And I moved, so I could kiss her chin.

I turned her head away from me, and my lips and tongue found her ear.

"He did that," she said, almost a protest.

Her shoulder.

"That, too."

Her hand touched me. "You're not even hard, not a little bit, you're just trying
to make me feel better."

"I'm not hard because I masturbated three or four times because you were so
sexy," I claimed.

I moved lower, to her breast, and my hand found the other one, tongue and
fingers, teeth and fingers, working on her nipples, and I felt her hand on the
back of my head, pressing me hard into her breast.

"See, that's not so bad" I muttered, my mouth full of her.

"No, not bad, nice, but he did that, too, his spit is probably still on me. . ."
she said, and I moved, my head pushing against her hand, lower, to her navel.

"Nice, very nice. This is all part of flooding," I told her. "I loved you doing
it."

I could feel her go rigid as she felt me there, nuzzling into her stomach.

"You watched everything?"

"Mmmm, yes" as my tongue made circles around her belly button.

My hand found her knee, and pulled at it, and her legs opened a little, she still
had a hand on my head.

"You know he was in me, then. . ."

"Mmmm, yes. . ."

and my tongue drifted down lower, I was breathing in the scents from her hair.

"But, he, he . . ., Bob, he ejaculated in me, let me clean up . . ."

I had by then moved my hands to either side of her cunt, and spread it, opening
those lips.

"Tina, I know that, and I know I wanted you to do that, and you don't have
anything to feel bad about, or dirty about. . ."

"But, but. . ."

My tongue found the opening, and touched her clit.

The hand she had on my head stopped trying to stop me - her legs opened wider,
she rotated her hips up, exposing herself, and her hands, on the back of my head,
pushed me deep into her!

Smelling.

Tasting.

Licking.

I felt her move a little, and then felt her lips close on my own masturbated limp
 penis.

I moved so my knees straddled her head, holding my penis above her face, making
it easy for her. Just like Joseph did a little while ago.

But with me in her mouth, and her cunt covered by my mouth, I grew a harder, and
she, more ready.

We were able to have sex, after all.

And slept in each other's arms, covered with our own perspiration, and his. Our
own juices, and his. And, uniquely, our love for each other - not his!

Tina, finally, understood that part of me.

We were awakened by the special phone.

"Hello?" she said.

A pause.

"Hello Joseph."

"No, not tonight, Joseph. Or tomorrow, either."

"No, I don't think I'll be seeing you again, Joseph."

"Good-bye."

She turned to me. "Is that OK with you?"

"Yeah."

"He said I had real promise in bed, and wanted to see me again, to play some
more."

"Not gonna do that, huh?"

"Not with him. I want to feel good when I make love or have sex."

"You wanted a different experience. I guess you got it."

"Yeah, I suppose so. I did learn some things. Maybe sometime we could try some of
those things, but I want it with love, not just for sex. . ."

"Yeah, we will. Are you OK with what happened with Joseph - you don't still feel
cheap. . ."

"No. I was worried about what you'd think of me. You made it all right last
night."

"Good.  Ah, are you going to date some more?"

"I learned a lot from Joseph. Do you want me to learn more?"

"Yeah."

"I still have that date with Phil. I think I'll keep it."

She wore conservative clothes, and drove off to meet Phil at the restaurant the
next evening.

Three hours later she was home. "I actually had a dinner date with a guy! It was
nice!"

She got ready for bed, and met me there, and while in my arms told me about her
adventure.

They met, she said, in the bar, and he was a gentleman. They had a quiet dinner,
and "I had to make up a lot of stuff. I did pretend to be Betty again. He was a
really nice guy, and he walked me to my car after dinner. We stood in the parking
lot for 15 minutes, talking, and doing a little flirting. He asked me if I'd go
out with him again, Bob."

By now I had her nightgown off, and was paying attention to her wonderful
breasts. I flattened one with my hands, had my mouth on it, sucking, teasing her
nipple, then lifted up enough to ask "What did you say?"

Her hands on my head forced me down again, as she answered. "I gave him my new
phone number, honey, and told him I'd love to. Is that all right?" she asked, as
her hand traced down my body, to see what my penis thought, too. It was at
attention, and began getting attention from her hand. "I guess" she said between
kisses, "that means it's all right. I wish I understood why this gets you so
excited."

"I don't understand, either, but it does. Like, thinking about you having sex
with Joseph drives me crazy. . ."

"So I guess it's all right that when he tried to kiss me, I let him?"

By now I had rolled onto her, and  she guided my cock to her vagina. While we
were making love - no, having sex - I looked down at her, looking up at me, and
at her breasts, and stomach, with my groin and hers joined, moving together, and
said "Do you realize that maybe if you like this guy enough,  you've probably
going to have him doing this to you, looking at you, fucking you. . .?" and her
legs wrapped around me, and she whispered  "of course, and you'll be watching,
and masturbating, won't you?" Our thrusts, our urgency, our orgasms, answered any
questions about whether it was a good idea.

I had wanted her to be a better sex partner: she was getting there.