The Matriarchy Is Coming.

Concerning Cuckolding Part 5

I had been on pins and needles for nearly a half hour waiting for them to arrive. I travelled back and forth excitedly between my seat and the window in the living room every time I heard a car driving on the street. It’s not surprising then that I was looking out the living room window as they pulled in. Unfortunately, the lustful anticipation I had felt mere moments ago was replaced with what I could only describe as a mix of intense fear and profound anxiety. Terrified was another good way to describe how I felt. I was about to break my marriage vows of faithfulness to my husband with a man I knew very little about, and all to fulfill the kinky desires of my husband and to satisfy my undeniable attraction to Dillon. To say I had second thoughts was an understatement. I considered leaving the door locked and yelling at them through the mail slot go away. I didn’t though. Something in me made me press on.

The passenger door opened first and Dillon climbed out. His muscular chest and arms were barely contained within the gray and white argyle sweater he was wearing. Peeking out of collar, end the ends of the sleeve, where the pink edges of the dress shirt he was wearing beneath. His gray slacks were tight, and even from this distance I could see the bulge going sideways across the front pants. Obviously, the conversation the two had along the way had aroused him.

Dillon looked at the house for a second and then popped his head back in the car. Shortly after, Ian’s door opened, and my husband climbed out as well. He moved around the car and started to head for the house until Dillon put his hand out to stop him. At this point, Dillon smiled and took the lead; walking confidently to the house with Ian trailing behind seeming like a lost puppy. I moved quickly to answer the front entrance at this point.

With my heart pounding furiously in my chest, I reached the door and opened it. There stood Dillon in all his handsome glory. He smiled at me and my all my fears began to melt away. I smiled back.

“Hello Ana. You’re looking even more lovely than I remember.” Dillon said while eyeing the dress I had put on. It was a flimsy white and gray dress with pink flowers on it. It was virtually see-through if you wore nothing beneath it, and I had on a sexy white silk slip under it to keep him guessing. Due to my aversion to the color pink, it was the only thing I had that the color was present in, and I did want to wear his favorite color.

“Thank you.” I said smiling. The compliment seemed an obvious choice, almost stereotypical choice for a man to make. I was hoping for something a little clever, and it seemed disappointment was heading my way, but then he suddenly let his eyes wander down and back up my body. He continued his compliment.

“I have to say, I love that dress. It leaves so very little to the imagination, but it makes me desperately desire what is being hidden from me.”

“You haven’t crossed the threshold yet and you’re already trying to charm me out of clothes?” I said coyly. The words came out of me, but I wasn’t sure who was saying them. I was instantly in full flirt mode from that moment on.

“On the contrary, I would never presume a mere compliment on your looks would put you into my bed. I am a man of substance. I plan to provide you with far more than platitudes.” He was smiling while looking directly into my eyes and I was staring directly into his. I felt goose bumps crawl up my arms and what I could only describe as an electric charge running through chest. The moment was broken when Ian cleared his throat.

“Maybe we should go inside.” He said while standing completely blocked by Dillon’s muscular body. Both of them still stood on the front stoop.

“Yes.” I said as I moved out of the way, but still keeping eye-contact like a mesmerized schoolgirl. “Please come in.” He stepped in and moved into a position facing me a few feet into the foyer. He was followed by Ian meekly trying to get in quickly to keep our neighbors from being nosey. Ian turned and shut the door. I heard him click the lock shut.

I should mention I had plans for Dillon’s arrival. I was going to greet him at the door in a professional manner. I was going to invite him in and direct him into the living room where we would sit down and discuss our expectations and limits, as well as determine a code of conduct. I didn’t want this evening turning into some wild free-for-all. I had no intention of engaging in any activities of a sexual nature, even ones concerning Ian’s servitude until after we had established all the rules for the evening. Then, we could continue on, with mutual respect and have a great time.

That is so not what happened.

Ian turned around to watch Dillon wordlessly lean forward and plant his lips directly on mine. I didn’t hesitate at all. I seem to remember I leaned in, as well, as soon as I saw him moving in. I let my lips part and felt his young, soft tongue invade my mouth and I responded in kind. I felt Dillon’s arms wrap around me and hold me gingerly as he kissed me, and I let myself fall into the moment. I wrapped my arms around him as he had done to me, and then held him tightly; not wanting to let go.

Ian stood with his mouth gaping as he watched us for several minutes just making out in the foyer. At one point I glanced over and saw the look of concern and disbelief on his face and began to feel badly for him. I figured I should stop this to make him relax a bit, but then I remembered that Ian was the one who wanted this, so I doubled-down by moving my hand down from Dillon’s back and onto his ass while I continued to kiss him. I fell back into his romantic embrace and once again got lost in the experience.

And then it was suddenly over. Dillon and I parted lips and stared at each other. My mind was still a bit foggy from erotic make-out session, but in the back of mind I knew the words that needed to be said. I knew I should put this all on hold and get everything understood and agreed upon. It was time to set the ground rules. There will be order in my house, damn it! Of course, like all things planned, that went right out the window. Instead of having an adult conversation to discuss adult activities, I turned to my husband, while still in Dillon’s embrace, and I made a completely different decision and spoke.

“Why are you still dressed, slave?” The look in my eyes could have bored holes through concrete. Ian looked to the floor, and without a word, started stripping. I turned back to Dillon and put my hands on his chest. He gently released his tight embrace while keeping eye-contact.

“That was nice.” He smiled. “Your husband said you were a great kisser, but I never imagined you’d be that great.”

“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself.”

“Should we continue while your husband undresses?”

“No, I think we should save something for later.” I smiled teasingly.

“I have better ideas for later.” He said coyly and pulled me back in for one more short kiss. I kissed him back and then pushed away again.

“That’s enough for now.” I said with a mockingly stern voice.

“Well, if I can’t get another kiss, can I get a tour of your lovely home, instead?” Dillon asked. His hands had moved to my waist and he held me like a delicate possession.

“Absolutely. It would be a pleasure to show you around.” I turned and saw that Ian had barely gotten his shirt off and was dallying. I was instantly embarrassed. I couldn’t believe that Ian would be such a little shit; especially in front of Dillon. He knew how unsure I was of myself. He knew I didn’t want to look like I wasn’t completely in control. We had been living a female led relationship-styled life for a while now, but I still wasn’t yet the strong, dominant woman I am today. To act like this was just cruel and manipulative. My embarrassment turned to anger and I snapped at him. “Why aren’t you naked yet?”

“I’m sorry, Ana….Mistress Ana.” He said while looking at the floor. He could tell by the tone of my voice that I was unhappy, and he began ripping his clothes off as quickly as he could. Within ten seconds he was standing there, wearing only a cage, with a bundle of clothes in his arms hiding his crotch.

“That’s better, but realize you are going to be punished for that later.” I gave him a nasty look that screamed Stop undermining me! At that point, feeling that I had salvaged my pride and authority, I turned to Dillon to take him on that tour, but that changed once he spoke.

“I hope you’re not waiting to punish him on my account.” He flashed me his dreamy smile. “To be honest, I’m quite interested in seeing how you two normally interact. I smiled back and then turned to Ian.

“Pull the belt from your pants.” I said clearly. Dillon smirked and Ian looked horrified.

“But, Mistress…”

“I said pull it from your pants, now!” I exclaimed more loudly. He complied immediately while still looking at the floor. “Drop your clothes, face the wall, put your hands on it and stick out your ass.”

“Please, Mis….”

“I was going to give you five. Now you’re getting ten. Do you want to make it fifteen?”

“No Mistress.” He said looking at the floor.

“Well, then you should have moved into position, instead of answering a rhetorical question. That’s two mistakes. Now it’s twenty. Are we going to shoot for twenty-five?” I spoke with definitive authority, so much so Dillon was impressed. Ian’s shoulders slumped into a defeated posture. After a quick deep breath, he moved to the wall. His body was bright red with embarrassment as he pushed his bum out to make it a decent target for me to strike. This would be the first time he was ever whipped in front of another man. Little did we know, it certainly wasn’t the last.

Dillon had to move to allow me to get into a good position, but as soon as I was, I unceremoniously brought the belt down hard on Ian’s buns. Due to his high pain tolerance, he reacted only mildly to this, but I knew it hurt a lot more than he showed.

“One. Thank you, Mistress.” He said while turning another couple shades of red.

“Good call on remembering to count. If you hadn’t it would have been thirty.” I brought down the belt again and he responded. We got into a rhythm of me hitting, and him counting out and thanking me, all while Dillon watched with an amused look on his face. By the time I finished with the twenty, his ass and upper thighs were red with something other than embarrassment. I dropped the belt to the floor and turned to Dillon.

“Now that that unpleasantness in over, I can take you on the tour.” I said matter-of-factly. He smiled back and motion forward with a swooping arm.

“Please lead the way, my dear lady.” I nodded and started moving toward the hallway. I called over my shoulder to Ian.

“Clean up your clothes and get to work. I expect dinner to be on time, and you to be better behaved for the rest of the evening, slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He said. I didn’t know it the time, but he was so aroused at that point he was dripping from his cage. He grabbed his clothes and scurried off.

I spent the next half of an hour taking Dillon around the house. The first room we stopped at was the guest bedroom. I told him if things went too late tonight, he was welcome to stay here. He moved up behind me and ran his hands up my sides as he kissed the side of my neck. I reached back and pulled his hips closer, causing me to feel the enormous bulge in his pants against my thinly covered bum. I spun around and kissed him full on the lips again. I eventually pulled away and led him to another room where we once again found ourselves embracing and kissing one another.

Each new location brought more adventurous groping. At first it was just my hips, but as we progressed through the house, his hands moved all over my body. He caressed my lower back and pulled me tightly to him as he kissed me passionately. In my office, he ran his hands up my back and placed one of his hands on the back of my head to keep me from pulling away from his lips. And, in the bathroom he easily lifted me up and set me on the sink, where he moved his hand along my upper thighs toward my waist. Then, he tilted his thumbs slowly down between my upper legs and pushed my legs apart to get me to spread them for him. My dress was loose enough that he could move in easily between my parted knees with his hips. If it weren’t for being dressed, I’m sure I would have been impaled at that moment.

It felt like I was back in high school trying to sneak kisses from my boyfriend while avoiding my nosey parents. I always assumed they were spying on me when I brought boys home. Just like back then, I kept looking to the doorway to see if someone was trying to see what I was up to, the difference was that this time it would be my husband instead of my mom or dad. I was sure Ian would be peeking around the corner at some point, but like my parents, he never was. At least I can say I never caught him, and he claimed he never even attempted. Eventually, we made it to the living room where we sat down next to each other on the couch and started kissing again. I broke away long enough to yell out for Ian.

“Slave! Bring us some wine!”

Knowing that Ian was coming, Dillon’s took the opportunity to try to make Ian jealous. As soon as he heard my naked little slave boy enter the room, he moved his right hand from my waist and up to my breast. He cupped it at first and then grabbed it firmly. He moved his lips from mine and made his way down my neck allowing me to make eye-contact with my husband.

I almost didn’t look at Ian. I was enjoying myself greatly, but I was beginning to feel guilty about how much attention I was giving Dillon. I was sure Ian was going to be feeling jealous and hurt by now, and although he deserved it for all the manipulation he did, I still love him dearly and don’t really want him hurt. I figured if I looked at him, I’d see his misery and stop the entire evening at that point. And, to be honest, I really didn’t want to stop. In the end, my heart won. Ian was more important than my desire to bed this young man, so I gazed over at the love of my life, and was shocked at what I saw.

Before me stood a slender, naked man holding a tray with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He was pinkish in color from the embarrassment of being so unclothed in front of our house guest, and his mouth was gaping from seeing how we were interacting. His tiny cock was purple and straining violently to get out of its cage. I had been expecting to see a sad, broken man, about to start crying from seeing his wife being very familiar with a strange man. Instead I saw a horny submissive male basking in the glory of intense humiliation. His whole body was straining from the pain of the tight cage, that I was worried the glasses might fall from the tray. I could tell that he couldn’t watch for much longer without dropping the items he had brought, so I chose to speak.

“I’m glad you’re here slave. I was getting thirsty. I hope you chose a tasty wine for us.” I did the best I could to sound demanding and aloof. As soon as the words had escaped my lips, Dillon stopped kissing my neck. He didn’t look away from me, though. Instead, he used his hand to gently turn my face to meet his.

“You know what? The only thing I really want to taste is you, Ana.” With that, he planted another kiss directly on my lips, and I responded in kind. Man, he was a good kisser. We continued for another thirty seconds while Ian dutifully stood there waiting. I eventually pulled away and turned toward Ian.

“You may serve the wine and return to your duties.” I stated clearly so that Ian could finish up and get back to the kitchen. For all I knew, our entire dinner could be burning while I’m necking with this boy. I turned back to Dillon and continued making out with him. Ian put the two glasses on the table, filled them with wine, set down the bottle, and then went back out to the kitchen. Dillon and I kissed for a few more minutes, before I broke away as his hand made its way under the hem of my dress and moved toward his final goal.

“Now, now young man. That’s for later.” I mockingly chided him with a coy smile. He leaned back confidently and smiled at me once again.

“You know, we could just skip dinner and go straight to dessert.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever had Ian’s cooking.”

“I don’t know about the food, but I know you’re worth waiting for, so I guess I can be patient, if I don’t have a choice.”

“And, you most certainly don’t.” I said matter-of-factly.

“Well, in that case. If I’m not going to get to be with you right now, and dinner is not yet happening, why don’t you tell me how exactly you and Ian got to this point?”

“You want to why I’m in charge and he’s a slave?”

“Yeah. I can honestly say I’m curious. How did you find out he was a submissive? Was it before or after you were married? Did he just come up to you one day and say ‘hey, I like being whipped with a belt in front of house guests in the foyer’, or was he more subtle?” I laughed heartily. Dillon surely had a way with ironic humor when he was being charming.

“I would say subtle, but then again, subtle would be an understatement. I’ve had to pry everything out of him.” I said grabbing my glass of wine from the coffee table and taking a sip. Then I realized it was one of the wines from a winery tour we had gone on. A sweet German Riesling that went down easily and yet had a robust alcohol content. Above all other wines, this one was my absolute favorite.

If I had any doubts that Ian may not be enjoying this evening, they were now quelled. He would never serve my favorite wine, especially knowing that this was a wine that made me lose my inhibitions, to guest he didn’t want at the house. In addition, it also was moderately more expensive, less because of the price per bottle and more because it’s only sold at the winery that makes it and we have to drive four hundred miles to get to there. Add in a stay over night in a hotel (due to excessive wine tasting) and a ten-dollar bottle of wine can get pretty pricey. To offset the cost, we would save up some money and go there once every two years, buy ten cases of wine and then slowly drinking it over the next twenty-four months on special occasions only. Regardless, this wine was a hefty combination of financial cost and investment of effort and time. Obviously, he viewed this occasion as being as special as I did.

“So, he didn’t just confess. Hmmm.” Dillon pondered for a moment. “Did you have to beat it out of him then?” I giggled before sipping more wine and continuing.

“Not exactly.” I sipped once more. “The truth is: Ian gets passive aggressive with his submissiveness. He doesn’t like to admit what he wants, but he still wants it, so he hints at it and expects me to somehow figure out what he wants.”

“That seems like the worst way to get what you want.”

“Tell me about it.” I agreed and took another sip that was more of a gulp.

“How did he get you to go on your first date? Insinuate that there is food on a table somewhere and that you might need help finding it?” I laughed, loudly. Maybe a bit too loudly. I looked down and realized I had emptied an entire glass of wine. I set down the wineglass and Dillon reached over, grabbed the bottle and filled my glass. I vowed not to touch it. I didn’t want to get too tanked to even have sex.

“He got off easy. I asked him out.” I said still laughing.

“That’s terrible!” He said with mock disdain I totally didn’t pick up on.

“Why is that terrible?” I asked, confused by his comment.

“Because, a man who was not brave enough to ask out a beautiful woman doesn’t deserve to be with a beautiful woman, especially one as beautiful as you.” His charming smile appeared on his face again and stared into his eyes. They seemed to be beckoning me forward and it was so intense that I completely disregarded the cheesy line about ‘asking out beautiful women’ and moved in to get another kiss.

Our lips met, our eyes closed, our tongues entwined, and his right hand shot straight up my dress and rested directly on my upper, inner thigh. My inhibitions were nearly gone, and I wanted to feel his fingers enter my most personal place. I wanted him to stimulate me, invade me. The only thing in the way was a lacy pair of panties that I suddenly wished I had forgotten to don. I contemplated taking them off when I heard Ian clear his throat. I broke our embrace to look at my husband and Dillon slid his lips down and went to work kissing my neck.

Like before, he was naked except for his cage, and that was being pressure-tested to the extreme by Ian’s tiny cock trying to grow to its embarrassingly mediocre maximum size. Unlike before, he was not as embarrassed, so his skin had returned to its normal milky white, and he no longer had his mouth gaping open like a whale catching plankton. He just stood there, watching us dutifully like a servant in a British mansion you might see in one of those period dramas. It lost some effect without butler’s uniform, but naked works for me.

I smiled at him. He truly was the love of my life. Here he was, naked and caged and looking absolutely ridiculous. He was emasculated, humiliated and soon he was going to offer me up to be made love to by another man; further showing how pathetic he is. Most other women seeing this would laugh, leave and tell all their friends what a wimp he is, but I didn’t see that. I saw a man who loves me so much that he would give up anything for me. He had given up his clothes, his respect, his marital rights and at that moment I realized that I could cut him off from ever being inside me ever again, and he would endure that willingly. Before me stood a man showing his undying devotion, and what I saw was the man of dreams. I felt so much love for him at that moment, that I almost called off the evening at that point to take Ian into our bedroom and fuck his brains out. Almost, but that’s not what happened. Ian would have been miserable if I had done that, and I truly wanted him to be happy. (Yeah, we’ll go with Ian’s happiness as being the only reason <wink wink>)

I watched as Ian’s gaze dropped to my lap. He could plainly see that Dillon had his hand under my dress and up near a place reserved only for my husband until today. From Ian’s view, Dillon and I were sitting on the couch, turned to face each other with our legs hanging off, with Dillon on the left and I on the right. The way we were sitting next to each other kept me from opening my legs much, and I hadn’t tried to open them because I was still playing a little hard to get with my flirting with Dillon, but now I wanted to give Ian some of the torture he so badly needed. I had figured out that Ian reacted involuntarily when he was erotically turned on by something by briefly shaking, almost like getting the chills, and right now, I wanted to see him shudder with excitement, so I opened my legs.

It wasn’t comfortable to accomplish in this position of being turned sideways and trying to make out with someone next to you. In fact, it was awkward, and it used muscles I’m not used to using, but I was determined. I kept eye contact with Ian as I pulled my left leg from my right; allowing Dillon to have unfettered access to the space between my thighs. His hand moved instantly into the gap. He quickly found my clit through the lacy fabric and began to rub. His strong, confident hand felt so good.

Ian watched as my legs spread. He saw Dillon’s had move under the fabric of my dress like a snake attacking its prey. He looked up at me and saw the pleasure wash across my face. He swallowed hard and licked his lips. His breathing was unsteady as he watched Dillon kissing my neck and playing with for another minute. I thought for sure he’d quiver with erotic passion, but nothing came. I was going to have to up my game to get him to shake for me, so I started thinking of things I could do. Show more skin? Say something provocative? Grab Dillon’s crotch? Unfortunately, Ian spoke before I could come up with a show-topping action to get him to pop.

“Dinner is served, Mistress.” He said after composing himself. Dillon pulled back from neck, looked into my eyes and spoke.

“Your slave has terrible timing. I was just getting to the good part.”

“Were you now?” I said mockingly.

“Just a little less clothing on and you’d have been screaming my name.” He said confidently. His smile made me want to rip off my clothes and have him make love to me right there, but I was really feeling the wine and knew I needed to eat some food.

“We’ll have to test that theory in a little while.” I said. Then I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He tried to extend the kiss, but I pulled away and put my finger on his lips. “I said in a little while.” I winked. I stood up and waited for Dillon to rise. The boy just towered over me when he did.

“You are gorgeous, and truly worth waiting for, so I guess I’ll have to wait, but I won’t like it.” He flashed his charming smile again.

I smiled back and took his hand. I led him around the coffee table and over to where Ian stood. I had been racking my brain for something I could say or do to make him shudder with excitement, but my mind was drawing a blank.

I stopped right before Ian, and Dillon stopped as well, still holding my hand like a couple on a date. Ian glanced down at our hands, interlaced fingers and I could see the pang of jealousy cross his face. It wasn’t going to be enough to get him to quiver, but I could tell it was turning him on. I was about to tell him to lead the way to dinner when I noticed him look in a different direction. I calculated by his gaze that Ian was looking at Dillon’s right hand. I figured he’d be more intent on seeing Dillon’s left hand that held mine. Now Ian’s face took on an even more jealous look. It took a second for me to catch on to what he was thinking, but once I did, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

“Slave boy.” I said demandingly to get his attention. He snapped his gaze to floor and tilted his head down in deference.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Get on your knees.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He complied immediately.

“I want you to reach up under my dress and pull off my panties.” He looked up at me with confusion on his face. He couldn’t figure why I wanted to take them off now, but he was afraid to not comply and get whipped in front of Dillon again.

“Yes, Mistress.” He said. He immediately reached up and slide his hands up my outer thighs, inside my slip. His hands shaking from the nervousness of where this was going. He hooked his fingers on to the thin bands on either side of my hips and pulled. My lacy panties came free and he dragged them down to my ankles. I stepped out of them; left leg first, right leg second, while using my grip on Dillon’s hand to help me keep my balance. Once free of my legs, Ian held up my panties and looked at me pleadingly. He wasn’t sure if I wanted them back, or if he should take care of them. Instead of addressing that issue, I turned to Dillon and gazed into his eyes.

“That’s better. Now the next time your hand is up there I’ll be able to feel you inside me rather than just you rubbing across the fabric.” I gave his hand a squeeze. He smiled and moved in for another kiss. I knew he was going to use it as a distraction cop a quick feel, but I leaned back to avoid the smooch. “After dinner.”

“Well, let’s get this dinner over with then. I’m dying for dessert.” He sounded charming, but behind his smile you could see the frustration in his eyes. He was getting impatient, but I knew he felt I was worth waiting for and he would indeed wait.

I looked back down at Ian and he was more aroused than I’d ever seen him before. There he knelt, bright red with humiliation and embarrassment, holding the panties before him that I just made him remove so another man could finger his wife unhindered, with a plastic cage that looked ready to burst. I smiled at him as I reached down an took his chin in my hand.

“You look like you’re wondering what to do with those.” I let my smile broaden to show some cruelty. “Maybe we should give them to Dillon. It’s only fair to give them away as a trophy to the man who’s actually going to get into my panties tonight?” And then the moment I was looking for arrived: Ian shuddered with erotic ecstasy. I nearly did as well.

“I’m all for that one.” Dillon exclaimed. He reached down and snatched them from Ian, rolled them up with one hand and put them in his pocket, thoroughly happy with his acquisition. “Shall we eat, my lady?” He let go of hand and offered his arm instead, in a most gentlemanly way. He motioned ahead with his other arm toward the dining room we had seen during the tour.

I was taken aback at that moment. I hadn’t intended to give away any of my panties, especially a pair that had cost nearly fifty dollars, but I didn’t want to disrupt the flow of the moment, so I let him hold on to them and played along with the formal arm offering.”

“Why yes, kind sir.” I dipped my head in a small bow toward him and placed my hand on his arm. We then walked with arm in arm through the living room to the dining room.

Meanwhile, behind us, a kneeling slave sprang to his feet, grabbed our wine from the coffee table and ran through the kitchen. He entered the dining room on the other side of the room from us, moments before we entered ourselves. He walked quickly to the table and set down our wine glasses. He started to move to pull out my seat but was interrupted by Dillon.

“I’ve got this, slave-boy.” He said as he pulled out my chair for me. Ian looked at him angrily, but Dillon stared Ian down to get him to back away. Ian complied, but seemed irritated by it. “Women prefer when this is done by a real man, just like making love.” Ian turned redder; I just couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Ian always pulls out my chair for me. It was strange, and it concerned me a bit when the confrontation took place, but it appeared to diffuse quickly. I talked about it with Ian the next day, and he said the strangest thing to me. He feels more possessive over his duties to me than to my body or even my existence. He said he’d give up anything for me, but his right to serve me. He’s such a good little slave.

After seating me, Dillon pulled out his own chair and sat down. He looked over at me and smiled before asking me a question.

“So, do you have to hit him with a belt again to deliver the food, or is he self-motivated in this aspect?” I gave him a teasing look of disapproval that broke into a grin before I spoke.

“Slave-boy, hurry up and serve dinner. The gentleman is in a hurry to have sex with your wife and doesn’t want any more delays. Chop chop!”

“Yes, Mistress.” He bolted away and then returned with two shredded salads with tomatoes and a bit of sour cream and guacamole on top. He then disappeared into the kitchen again. I heard something in the kitchen start frying immediately and then he returned a moment later with a bowl of tortilla chips and three homemade salsas. He set them down, as well as two wooden boards, one in front of Dillon and one in front of me. He then started to move away when I stopped him.

“What is this?”

“Homemade tortilla chips and salsa, Mistress.”

“Really? Mexican?” I was surprised. He hadn’t ventured far into Mexican cooking. This would be new territory for him. I had asked him several times why he never made Mexican food and he told me he never got the hang of the seasonings. My eyes screamed: You better not screw it up!

“Yes, Mistress. Fear not. I have studied and practiced.” He bowed his head and bolted to the kitchen. I was surprised he would be so bold. Usually he tries all his dishes out on me several times before doing something new in front of others. I was seriously worrying that this would not go well. I worried less after Dillon spoke.

“Wow, these chips are unbelievable. What brand are these?” He asked. I was relieved that the chips came out well.

“I doubt they’re any brand. Ian usually makes everything himself. In this case, the chips, the salsas…” Suddenly Ian popped in and quickly set down a bowl of guacamole and ran back into the kitchen. “…the guacamole; I would assume he made it all from scratch.” Dillon dipped a chip into the guacamole and jammed it in unceremoniously into his mouth. He chewed it all up and swallowed it with a look of satisfaction on his face.

“You were right! His food is fucking fantastic!” He stopped speaking immediately and looked repentant. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to use such coarse language, but this food is amazing.”

“I’m glad you’re liking it.” His appreciation for the food made me want to try it myself, and I began to feel at ease.

“Liking it? Hell, I’m loving it! The food is phenomenal, and the company is even better.” He smiled and I blushed. Damned charming boy!

Ian popped in at that moment wearing oven mitts with two cast iron flat pans covered in meats and vegetables still frying. He set down one in front of me and it fit the board he had sat down perfectly. He then set one in front of Dillon as well. Each one held chicken, steak, shrimp and scallops as well as red and green bell peppers, onions and fresh tomatoes. Ian disappeared again and returned with two hot tortilla keepers full of soft, homemade flour tortillas. Once again, he flew from the room and returned with two margaritas and set one down for each of us.

“Please enjoy, Mistress.” He said with his eyes downcast. “May I be excused to clean?”

“Yes, you may.”

I was expecting something like a burrito, or some tacos, but not a pan of perfectly cooked fajita fixings. Everything looked and smelled fantastic. Besides the fact that I wasn’t aware he could cook this style of food, I was surprised he would choose it for a formal dinner. He always picked something European when we had guests. This was very unlike Ian. My confusion was allayed once Dillon spoke.

“I see why you like keeping him around.” He was tearing into the food like he hadn’t eaten for a week.

“Really? Well, I’ll have you know I do keep him around for a lot more than his tasty food.” I quipped as I removed a tortilla from my keeper, tore off a piece and used it to pinch some meat and peppers of the pan. I put it in my mouth and nearly fainted. That little bastard can cook anything!

“No, not for the food. For the details.” He said shoveling more food in his mouth.

“What do you mean?” I asked while speaking with food in my mouth. I covered it, but I was still chewing and didn’t want to stop.

“When we first started texting, I mentioned I was going out with a friend for Mexican food to my favorite restaurant. Ian asked if it that was my favorite food, and I told him ‘Yes. As a matter of fact, I could eat it for every meal every day’ and he must have remembered that and made this dinner.” I had to agree with him. Ian does pay attention to the details and try to make others as happy as he can. Dillon continued with his voice lowered toward me. “I almost feel guilty for the fact that if everything goes well, I plan to enjoy watching him suffer as I take his wife right in front of him.”

“I know you may find this hard to believe, but you’ll be doing something nice for him, not mean to him. If anything, to not humiliate him would be the cruelest route.” I quietly responded.

“Well, if either of us can move after gorging ourselves on this meal, I promise you that not only will you be satisfied beyond your wildest dreams, he will be questioning whether he should even be called a man.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the meal being too filling.”

“Really, why?”

“Ian really is about the details. I’m sure he’s pedantically figured out exactly how much food we can each consume and still function. He then put not one ounce more on either of our plates. Your portion is larger, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I had. I just assumed it was more random.”

“Nothing is random with Ian. As a matter of fact, I’d bet these are virgin margaritas, so we don’t get too drunk to play.”

“Hmmm. Pretty good for having no alcohol.” He said after taking a drink. “Food portions, alcohol contents; do you think there is anything he hasn’t thought of?” I looked at that pretty boy and knew I was definitely going to sleep with him. I was going to let him fuck my brains out and my husband was going to watch me enjoy every minute of it while he is allowed no pleasure at all. I thought of all this and then responded.

“I don’t think he’s thought through what we’re going to do tonight is truly going to lead to. It’s going to change our lives forever.” I must have looked a little sad, because Dillon looked concerned but not enough to stop eating while talking.

“You know, we don’t have to go through with this. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly want to, but not if it’s going to hurt you. I’ll be disappointed if we don’t, but I’ll live.”

“Fear not, lover boy. I’m still interested in going through with this.” I smiled. “I just don’t think Ian is completely ready for it, but at this point I’m not turning back.” I tried a tortilla chip and was amazed by its crispiness.

“Even if he asks you to stop?”

“Even if he demands that I stop.”

“Why?” He asked with genuine confusion on his face.

“Because he keeps pressuring me into things like this. Manipulates me is a better way to describe it, and I’m tired of it. If I’m truly to be in charge, I need to stop letting him push me into situations. I should be dragging him, kicking and screaming, instead.”

We continued conversing for the next twenty minutes or so about Ian. How we had met and all the times he’d pushed me into doing things I wasn’t comfortable with, and how they did turn out okay in the end, but not without repercussions that had strained our relationship at times. Dillon listened, responded and even asked more questions. Eventually, we were done eating so I called for my slave to come into the room. Ian appeared and we stopped our conversation as he cleared away our dinnerware. Once he disappeared into the kitchen again, Dillon looked at me flirtatiously and spoke.

“So, you’ve decided then?”

“Decided?” I said coyly.

“Whether or not you’ll be making love to me tonight.”

“Yes. I would definitely say yes.”

“No turning back? I’m really going to get to ravish your gorgeous body?” He asked charmingly.

“Absolutely.” I said back.

“Great! Because I’m done eating and ready to go.”

“No, you’re not.”

“What do you mean? My pan is gone. Your pan is gone. Ian did a great job of not over-feeding us. I’d say it’s time.”

“Ian always makes dessert.”

“Oh Jesus Christ, can’t we have it afterwards?” He asked frustratingly as Ian came into the dining room with two small plates on a tray.

“Deep-fried, tortilla-wrapped cheesecake, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, and then drizzled with chocolate and butterscotch, with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.” He announced as he set them down in front of us.

“Well, maybe one small dessert first.” Dillon said as his mouth watered at the confectionary creation that sat before him.