P01E09

Neither of them returned for the whole evening, so in the end I just went to bed, blaming myself for missing my opportunity. I just hoped I hadn’t blown it altogether, and that Howard would give me redemption and a second chance tomorrow.

When I got up in the morning and went downstairs, Howard had already gone off to work, and Marcy was in the kitchen doing chores. She was in a merry mood and nothing indicated anything special had happened yesterday; she just offered to make me coffee and we sat down to drink it. She was wearing yesterday’s robe again, but the girdle kept it closed now.

I still felt the need to say something to her, maybe some sort of apology or something, so I started: “Look… about yesterday… I’m sorry…”

She interrupted me before I could go any further: “Forget it. These things happen. ”

I shrugged: “Yeah, I guess… so… how are you feeling now?”

“Mangled and bruised. Inside, I mean. I was lucky there was no rupture, no blood. But it hurts like hell and I don’t feel slutty at all today; in fact sex is just about the last thing on my mind.” She smiled a very sweet, almost innocent-looking smile at me when she finished that sentence.

I tried to smile back, but I guess it must have looked more like a smirk; then said: “I’m really sorry to hear that. “

She shrugged: “Ah well. I hope you have learned something. It will get back to me in no time. When Howard sets his mind to it, he can rehornify me in minutes.”

I didn’t really know anything else to say about it, so I changed the subject: “How did you meet Howard?”

“Oh, like most of us these days. A dating site.”

“Heh… and he pretended he was much younger than he really was, right?”

“Oh, no. He told me he was 63 straight away. But I didn’t mind that at all. To be honest, I like my man to be older than me. “

“Oh, yeah? Why is that? “

“Well, for a start, they have much more experience, obviously. They wouldn’t make a mistake with a fucking machine like some youngster I know.” She smiled that very sweet and innocent smile again, and I blushed.

Then her face turned more serious, and she continued: “There’s also more authority in an older man… you know, the feeling that you HAVE to obey him. When a younger man tells you to do something, it often sounds a bit silly. Like he is uncertain, as if the invitation to rebel is inherent in his words. When an older man tells you to do something, you are eager to respond, hoping not to displease him. It has something to do with confidence. When he commands you, it feels like he knows what he is doing, he’s self-assured, it feels like he grabs you at your weakest spot, it makes your knees waver and your pussy wet… he knows how to command you and make it feel like heaven at the same time, imposing the mindset of submission upon you without doubt or hesitation. “

She laughed: “Well, the right kind of older man of course. And for the right kind of girl. A girl that likes that kind of control. A girl like me. “

My mind drifted to one of the video’s I had watched, just a couple of weeks ago… it was advertised as “BDSM”, but it just entailed a man shouting at a girl while covering her in a blanket of whiplashes. He had been younger; and it had felt like he was barking orders mostly to hide his own uncertainty. And you could see it in the girl; surely she obeyed him, she was probably paid well to do it, but she did so without any enthusiasm, as if it all was just a tedious chore that needed to be completed to get the money. I had turned it off after a few minutes; there was really nothing arousing about it, it was just awkward, artificial and poignant.

I nodded, and said: “Yeah, I think I know what you mean. It is not just a facade, there’s so much more to it than that. You have to feel it inside. Right?”

“Yeah, exactly. Even when he humiliates you, when he hurts you, when he abuses you, when he exploits you… there needs to be a deeper level of understanding. “ She shrugged. “Call it commitment, call it care, call it love. When it is there, it makes you feel warm and safe, so you can trust him when you let go of yourself; he will take care of you no matter what. When he plays you, his focus is on you, and not on himself. I have never met a younger man who isn’t so occupied with himself that he can give me that. “

She produced a short laugh again before she continued: “And yeah, that is worth all the world. There are drawbacks as well, of course. His libido has dwindled, and his dick can’t get very hard anymore. He’s had a lifetime of experience which also means he is locked in many rusted patterns and it can be hard for him to incorporate new ideas. And yeah, let’s be honest, he’ll grow old and die before I’m even middle age. But all that is much less important, it can be fixed or solved, or they are problems for another day… but the sinking feeling when I stand naked in front of him, while he is contemplating how he will play me, taking his inspiration from the looks of my curves… it easily makes up for all of that. “

Suddenly a question dawned in my mind: “So… that’s why I’m here? I’m a replacement for the faltering libido of his loins? “

“Well, I suppose so… it is not something he would share with me, and even if it is one reason, there may be several more. But he accommodates my need to be pierced, often and hard, in all kinds of ways. And yeah, inviting you is probably one of them. He expressed some displeasure at the performance of some of his friends in this respect lately… they’re all older too, so they basically have the same problem, even if the sheer amount of them helps, of course.“

A stud. I was just that, a stud. I let the word revolve around in my brain, and I realized I didn’t have a problem with it at all. If uncle Howard needed inches to fill up his sex-crazed slutwife, I didn’t mind providing them.