It gives you...


Erotica by Joe Tortuga

Faye's Return

(bdsm, MF, Rom)

September 13, 2013

When Richard got home, he discovered that Faye had returned.

It’s not like he could have missed it.

She knew he always entered through the front door. He parked the car in the driveway despite the 2-car garage, because he’d turned it into a heated and finished room, even if the ceiling were higher than absolutely necessary for normal use. She also knew that anyone who came in through the front door could see directly back into the dining room for the foyer.

So that’s where she was when he came home.

The table was cleared off, and she’d bent over it. Her hands might have been tied, if she’d managed that somehow, but he couldn’t tell from the foyer. She was wearing black six-inch heels, thigh-highs with a line up the back attached to black garters. She also wore a short skirt that rode up her ass and gave him a direct view of her perfectly framed pussy. The lips of her pussy jutted out like a pout and light glinted off the moisture there. She was either aroused or prepared with lube, probably both.

Richard set his briefcase down next to the table in the foyer. He emptied his pockets of loose change, keys, wallet, all into a small bowl that he left there. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it in the coat closet, and took of this shoes and lined them up with his other inside the closet.

A week ago he’d have been happy to see her like this, he’d have dropped his things carelessly by the door and walked down the short hallway, pulling out his cock and sinking it deep within her. But she hadn’t been there; she hadn’t been there for a month since the big fight. He could still hear the door slam as she left, unwilling to answer his question or even explain why she wouldn’t answer.

He’d called her of course, texted her, sent her an email. He’d even gone by her apartment and knocked on the door, only to be asked — politely — to leave by her roommate, Lorraine. That had been two weeks ago. He’d written her one more email, explaining what he wanted, and why, and asking her again. That email had gone unanswered, as well.

And last week he’d given up. She was gone, and it was time for him to move on.

But now, here she was. Half-naked on his dining room table, bent over and ready for him.

He considered as he pulled off his tie, and decided she’d just have to wait.

He walked back to his room and methodically changed into some more comfortable clothes. Normally he’d just throw on a robe, but not tonight. She’d know what that meant, too. He grinned to himself, and shook his head.

He walked back down the hall, and saw that she was in the same position as before. He cut through his den, and into the kitchen, and poured himself a beer. He walked into the dining room. Her hands were flat on the table, unbound, and unmoving. Her black hair cascaded over her head, obscuring her face where it was mostly pressed into the table. She wore a white blouse of some kind.

He sat down at the table. She let out a breath, but didn’t say anything. He took a sip of his beer, and brushed her hair away from her face. She was crying. He pursed his lips. “Tell me, Faye, does your phone work? Your email? Your computers?”

She nodded. “I guess I knew that, or you wouldn’t be here, like this.” He took another sip of his beer. “You’re about a week late,” he said.

A sob left her lips and her whole body shook. “I didn’t say too late,” he said. “Just late.” The last was almost a whisper. He slammed his hand down on the table, and she jerked. “Dammit, Faye, I gave up. I assumed I had your answer. You didn’t talk to me, Lorraine sent me away, your work wouldn’t forward calls.

“I left you alone, because — what else could I do? I reached out, and nothing, just a blank wall. Do you care to explain that?”

She shook her head. He closed his eyes. She was serious. He took another sip of his beer. He looked her in the eye, and she looked right back at him. Her eyes said it all. “Use me, take me, make me yours just like you wanted.” And she was here, following the rules he’d laid down that night. The ones he’d yelled at her in the fight, telling her his secret fantasy. By then he’d already asked the question, and she’d balked.

But now she was here, and she was staring at him with those submissive eyes, and he was getting hard and he had to admit that he’d given up on her, but here she was, quiet and ready for him.

“Go home, Faye,” he said. “We’ll have lunch tomorrow and talk about it. Figure out some way to make this work that’s fair to both of us.

She shook her head, and her gaze became defiant, challenging him. Challenging him to make her, or to take her. The fire that was in the core of her was still there. He felt himself relaxing a bit.

“Okay,” he said. “You’ve made your mind. I wish I knew what had changed your mind, and I don’t think I can get you to tell me now.”

She just shook her head, and he sighed regretting his words from when she left. “Don’t say a word to me,” he’d said, “until you’re ready to say yes or no.” And then he’d brought out the ring and she’d fled.

He stood up and walked around the table, running his hands over her as he went. His hands gripped her ass, and he slid a hand down her crack, idling over her asshole for a moment, then gliding around her pussy and down her thighs. He played with the tops of her nylons, then let go, and walked around the table again.

He left the room, and watched her for a minute before he made his decision. Checking his watch, he sighed. There wasn’t much time.

He entered the dining from for the foyer, and brought his hand down on her right ass check. The sound was perfect, thankfully, and filled the room with the sound of the smack. His handprint stood out red on her white skin. She hissed, drawing in her breath, and then he smacked her other ass, for a second perfect stroke.

Her fingers scabbled against the table, as she struggled to be still, to not say anything, to not be too excited. He walked back around in front of her and sat down again. He set the ring box on the table. “Lorraine was right,” he said. “Wives --- spouses — are equals. They’re both part of a partnership, and while they take on different roles, they are equal partners. She said that was your problem with it, is that right?”

She nodded.

“I can think of no greater gift than to have a partner — my equal — as my submissive. I don’t understand people who want the submission of those lesser than them. That’s easy to get, it’s almost a given. But for an equal, which you have always been Faye, that’s something much better.”

He opened the ring box, and the diamond engagement ring shone in the light. Her eyes grew large, and again demanding. She licked her lips and wiggled her ass expectantly. It was more than he could take. He checked his watch again, and stood.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said. He stood, leaving the ring right where it was. He unzipped his pants, and walked around the table. Behind her, his cock out, he grabbed her ass and slid into her. She let out a gasp, but not a word.

She was warm and tight and wet. Some of it was lube, but not all of it. He’d been right about that. “You should have come here last week,” he said.

He slid in and out of her, pressing her against the table. “I’d have fucked you on the table, and then I’d have asked you the question, and you could have answered me and things could have gone on to normal. Or the new normal anyway.” She whimpered a bit at this. He grabbed her ass, and slide in and out of her. She was breathing fast as he fucked her.

“I love you so much, Faye,” he said. He fucked her faster, and spanked her ass a few more times as he fucked her. She started to come beneath him, and he knew he wouldn’t be long. It had been a month, longer than he’d gone in years.

“I am going to ask you the question tonight,” he said. “But you really should have come sooner.” He slammed into her, pounding her hard, and he filled her up with his come. He pulled out of her and walked around the table. She moved enough to suck his cock, cleaning him off as he’d trained her.

He brushed her hair back away from her face. “I can’t wait to use you forever,” he said. “I can’t wait to ask you the question. But when you answer it, as I hope you will, I have plans for you that will take us all night.”

The doorbell rang and he checked his watch. “Right on time,” he said. “You should have come last week, Faye,” he said. “Tonight’s my night to host the poker game.”

He pulled out of her mouth and stuffed himself back into his pants. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Well,” he said. “If you say yes, it won’t be the last time you help me host it.”

He walked into the foyer, looking back and seeing her still there, her pussy moist with his juices. The doorbell rang again, and he went to let in his poker buddies, wondering how much cards they’d actually get to tonight, since his table was taken.

Joe Tortuga

Written by Joe Tortuga a bisexual dominant erotica writer and programmer (he/him). Follow me on Twitter