Friday, May 22, 2009


I'll admit I'm somewhat confused, somewhat conflicted today.


Emily is going out of town this weekend.

She's going to visit a friend of hers about two hours away.

Someone she has not seen in a couple of years.

The man.

She's staying at his house.

I'm confused, I'm conflicted.

Emily would never, ever do anything to betray me.

But Emily knows my fantasies.

She never dated him, never slept with him. Though not for lack of trying on his part.

I told her I felt weird about it, that it felt weird that she was going to to visit a man, stay with him. She said you have to trust the one you're with.

She's right.

Last night I was sitting on our bed, reading, watching her pack. I watched her pack. Clothes for dinner tonight. Golf clothes for their "golf date" tomorrow (she called it a tee-time). Clothes for the concert and dinner they are going to tomorrow night.

"That blouse is kind of low cut, isn't it?"

"We're going to a concert and dinner, I want to look nice." I suppose she was right and it wasn't that low cut.

Then I saw her take that chemise out of her drawer and put it into her bag.

"Why are you bring that, Em," I asked.

"Something to sleep in," she said nonchalantly, "why, you worried I'm bringing it for Evan?"


She winked at me. "It's to sleep in, that's all, hon."

Last night, in bed, I was massaging her with lotion, something I often do at bed time. Emily was laying on her stomach, naked. I was on top of her, also naked, gently massaging motion into her back, lost in my thoughts, my own private submission to her.

"I know you fantasize about it," she said turning her head slightly, looking up at me.

"What," I asked her, not sure what she was talking about.

"I know you fantasize about me sleeping with a man."

"Emily!" I kept rubbing her back, aware what both of us were aware. My naked, flaccid penis was getting erect.

"I told you," she laughed, moving her ass so my erection slipped between her cheeks, touched her warmth, pressed against her.

"That's...I mean...fantasy."

"I know, sweetie, I know. But I like it when you get excited," she inhaled, rubbing on me.

I swallowed again, aware that she was teasing me, aware that, to an extent, she was using my fantasy for her purposes, exciting me, not just for me, but for her.

"I know you fantasize about it, I know you fantasize about cuckolding."

I wanted to deny it, but I couldn't, not with her rubbing on me, not with her seductive tone, the truth of her words.

"Are you going to fantasize about it this weekend, sissy? Are you going to fantasize about Evan fucking me?"

I pushed into, giving her just what she wanted. I let her push me to the brink of frustration, unable to deny it, to deny her.

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