Husband Wife (Femdom story line)

There are days when the weight of my lust feels crushing. From the moment I wake up, she’s on my mind, her smile, her laugh, the way her body moves with such grace and an erotic nature. Even the simplest things, like the way she brushes her hair or the sound of her voice, send my mind into a place of fantasy. I find myself distracted, my thoughts leading me to her, to the way she feels against me, to the memories of our most kinky moments

By midday, the anticipation is almost too much to handle. I catch myself imagining what it would be like to have her right then and there, having her mouth under my desk sucking my dick while no one notices, to feel her hands on me, her lips against my skin.

Sometimes, when the tension becomes too much, I’ll steal away to a quiet place, just to relieve the pressure, to think of us. But it’s never enough. It’s her. I want the way she looks at me when she’s lost in pleasure. Those stolen moments alone are just a temporary fix, a way to tide me over until I can be with her again.

And when we’re finally together, it’s like the world falls away. Whether it’s a quick, passionate encounter or a slow, deliberate exploration of each other’s bodies, it’s always worth the wait. The way she responds to me, the way she gives herself completely, only fuels my desire for her even more. It’s a cycle that never ends—this constant craving, this endless need for her. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Today, my mind kept pushing me deeper, imagining her taking control, her hands on me, pushing my body, making me feel like a toy, dominating mine. Then my thoughts changed, imagining her in a dominatrix suit, the leather clinging to her curves like a second skin, her eyes cruel as she bit her lips with a thought that promised both pleasure and punishment.

In this fantasy, I’m bound, helpless, **** to watch as she teases and taunts me. She moves with a predatory grace, her heels clicking against the floor as she circles me, her fingers trailing over my skin, leaving fire in their wake. Then she kneels before me, her lips brushing against my cock, her tongue flicking over the tip before she takes me deep into her mouth. I know how much she loves this—how she revels in the power she has over me, in the way she can make me tremble with just a touch. But she doesn’t stop there. Her mouth moves lower, her lips wrapping around my balls, sucking them deep, her tongue working in ways that drive me to the edge of madness.

And then, just as I think I can’t take anymore, she stands, her gaze locking with mine as she steps aside, making room for someone else. My heart races as I watch her give herself to another, her body moving with the same wild, untamed energy that I know so well. She’s lost in the moment, her moans filling the room, her pleasure on display for everyone to see. But even as she’s taken by another, her eyes never leave mine. And when the fantasy fades, I’m left with a hunger that only she can satisfy, a reminder of just how far we’re willing to go for each other.

When I got home, the smell of garlic and basil hit me the moment I walked through the door. She had made my favorite pasta, the one I always crave after a long day.

When I walked in the sight of her stopped me in my tracks. The look on her face was everything I loved about her body perfectly covered by a dark green negligee that made her look like the perfect combination between a slut and a queen. It barely her ass letting her perky cheeks peek out, a deep cleavage making her tits look madly tempting. I could feel the bulge in my pants growing, a physical response to her presence that I couldn’t control. She noticed, of course, and the way her lips curled into a sly smile told me she loved it.

I started to move toward her, eager to close the distance between us, but she stopped me with nothing more than a look. A single, commanding glance that froze me in place. Her face yelled “Not yet”.

My body obeyed before my mind could even process it, and I stood there, helpless, as she rose from where she sat. Her hypnotic body swayed with confidence that made me crave her. She closed the gap between us, her hands finding my ass, squeezing it possessively, as if to remind me who I belonged to.

“I don’t want you to fuck me right now,” she said, her voice low, dripping with authority.

“Today, I’ll be doing the fucking.”

It was as if she had reached into my mind and pulled the very fantasy I’d been dreaming about earlier that day into reality. I was hers to command, hers to take. The power dynamic shifted, and I was completely at her mercy, just as I had imagined. It was intoxicating, the way she owned the moment, owned me, her confidence mirroring the vivid scenes I’d played out in my head.

The questions must have been written all over my face, but she didn’t give me time to ask. Instead, she sent me to shower, to prepare myself for whatever she had planned. As I walked away, I couldn’t help but smile. She was in control, and I loved every second of it.