Adventures with My Dominating Husband - 1

My husband Nick and I have always had a special relationship. I knew this as soon as we first met, at my sister’s New Year’s Eve party. He and my sister worked for the same company, in high level management positions. He was a suave bachelor, tall, dark-haired and hazel-eyed. Mid-thirties. I was twenty-six, still working at a shitty startup, Bohemian. I had long brown hair, brown eyes. And I was wild. I liked to have fun in bed, and I knew as soon as I saw Nick that he knew how to have fun.
We had been smirking at each other for most of the night. Each time I caught him looking at me a shiver went down my spine. He had the hottest look on his face, and it made me so wet. I was wearing a low-cut knitted dress and thigh high boots, and I could see his eyes taking them in.
He finally caught me alone in the kitchen, where I was fixing myself a cocktail.
“So you’re Sarah’s little sister,” he greeted, as if we hadn’t been eye-fucking each other for most of the night.
“And you must be the douchey associate she’s always complaining about,” I shot back, and he smirked, pleased.
“What are you making?”
“Just a screwdriver. I have a headache.”
“That oughta help.”
“If I drink enough of it, it will.”
I tried to reach past him, but he stood close to me, gently grabbing my hand. We were very close to each other, and I was instantly turned on, seeing him looking down on me with his eyes hungry. He looked over my body again, and I shivered, feeling my nipples harden.
He smirked again. “What are you wearing underneath that?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “A thong.”
He looked pleased, and studied me for a moment.
“You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”
I just smiled again. I was so hot; electricity was running through me, and I had the strongest urge to lean on the counter, bending over in front of him and letting him take me there. Just the thought of the other partygoers being in the next room, oblivious to the exchange we were having, made me even hotter.
He finally chuckled, letting go of my hand.
“Take it off,” he said, and there was an edge to his voice. “Give it to me. You don’t need it.”
I didn’t for a second hesitate. I slipped off my thong--a soft blue silk with little bows on it--and gave it to him, my heart pounding in my chest. He studied it, still smirking, and then tucked it away in his pocket.
Then he looked at me again. “Do you get in these situations much?”
“Often.”
He chuckled. “Hopefully I’m a little different.”
We went back to our respective spheres after that, but I was on edge the whole time, so turned on. I could feel Nick’s eyes on me, as I mingled with people, talked to my sister. My pussy was so wet--soaking, and dripping onto my thighs. I needed to be fucked so badly, but he ignored the pleading looks I was giving him.
Finally the party ended. I said goodbye to my sister, and was about to order an Uber when Nick appeared at my side.
He nodded at his car, which was across the street. We looked at each other hungrily, and I followed him across the icy pavement. The car was a good distance from the house, and it was a dim country road.
I was still soaking wet, and had to pull at my dress so I could sit on his nice leather seat without leaving any marks.
He frowned when he saw this, and I flushed. “I don’t want to ruin the seat. I’m pretty wet.”
He looked intrigued, and reached out, moving past the hem of my dress and brushing his fingers at my soaked entrance. I let out a moan, and my pussy gushed on his fingers.
He purred. “Very nice.”
I wanted to return the favor--to reach out and grope his cock, which I could see was hardening beneath his slacks. But I wanted to see what he would do next.
He caught my eye and cocked his head. Then, ever so gently, he slid a finger inside me, and then another. I sighed, leaning back against the seat. Little waves of pleasure were rolling over me, and I squirmed, desperate to have him move, to fuck me with his fingers.
He chuckled. He removed his fingers, leaving me cold, and started the car. I didn’t bother to adjust my dress as he drove us into the city, and I caught him glancing at my thighs and my barely-covered pussy. His jaw was tense, and he shifted a couple times, trying to adjust himself in those slacks.
I giggled. “Not so suave now, are you?”
He simply smirked, and kept on driving.
He had a nice apartment downtown--not a penthouse or anything, but still very nice. The heels of my boots clicked on the tile as I wandered around. There was a fireplace, and a Christmas tree. I could feel his eyes on me, and I got hot again, wondering what he was going to do to me now.
“Take that off,” he said suddenly, and I felt a thrill. I looked at him; he was loosening his tie, staring at me hungrily. “Leave the boots on.”
We smirked at each other, and then I slipped my dress off, letting it crumple to the floor. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and of course my thong was still in his pocket. I felt so hot, standing naked except for my thigh-high boots. My nipples were so hard, my pussy glistening, my thighs damp.
He looked ravenous, but also calculating, cocking his head again. He circled me, taking me in from every angle, and I shivered. Then he went to the kitchen, fixed himself a drink, and went back to the living room. He sat down, draping an arm over the back of the couch, his eyes trained on me.
“Walk around,” he ordered. “I want to see you walk.”
“You don’t want me to dance on a pole or something?”
He raised an eyebrow, and I knew, with a shiver, that I was in trouble.
“No. Walk.”
So I wandered around again, commenting on the pictures on the wall, touching the tinsel on the tree. My boots clicked on the tile, and the ice in Nick’s drink clinked against the glass. He watched me, his eyes darkening, sipping his drink. I was so turned on; I had the strongest urge to touch myself, to slide my hands over my breasts, or tease my clit. But I knew I would get in trouble if I did those things, so I continued wa lking around, silently begging him to do something to me.
Finally he stood up, smirking, and nodded to the couch. “Sit down.”
I practically ran over, and he chuckled. I sat down and he turned, looking me over. Then, without warning, he grabbed my legs and yanked me to the edge of the couch. I fell back, surprised, and he quickly got on his knees, spread my legs and began to lick my pussy.
I tilted my head back and moaned. My whole body began to tingle as he ate me out, right on his couch. His tongue circled my clit so expertly, before diving inside me and fucking me. He did that for the longest time--much longer than anyone else had, and I was in ecstasy.
I could feel pressure building. My body was so wonderfully tense and hot, my toes curled in my boots, my nipples electric as I brushed at them. I went to touch his hair, ready to come, when he surfaced. He immediately went to my breasts, cupping them and kissing them, gently nibbling on my nipples, making me gasp and writhe. Then he stopped again, and I groaned in frustration.
He smirked and stood, holding out a hand. He helped me rise onto wobbly legs, and then, sudden again, grabbed my arms and marched me roughly to the kitchen. He took me to the counter and pushed me over it, displaying my ass. I was soaked now, so turned on by his manhandling. I heard him undo his belt and felt a rush of excitement. Finally, I was going to get fucked.
He suddenly groped my pussy, feeling my wetness, and I moaned, squirming. His fingers brushed my clit, and I nearly came right there.
I heard him chuckle. “Such a little slut,” he whispered. “I bet you let all the boys fuck you in school. Didn’t you?”
He was now teasing me with the tip of his cock, which was rock hard and hot as fuck. I nodded, breathless, and he chuckled again.
“I thought so. Private school?”
“Yes.”
“Right. I bet you walked around without your panties on. Did you spread your legs in class, let that boy you liked see your hot little pussy?”
I grinned, loving the dirty talk, and nodded. “Yes.”
“Did they tell you it was tight?”
I finally looked at him, over my shoulder, and he raised an eyebrow.
I smiled. “They said I had the tightest cunt in the school.”
He looked a little surprised by my boldness, and grinned. “Let’s see, then,” he growled, and he rammed his cock into me.
God, he was so hard. He filled me up completely, and I let out a delighted cry, gripping the edges of the counter. My nipples bounced against the cold marble as he began to fuck me, hard, and the cool sensation paired with his hot cock was amazing.
“Fuck, you are tight,” he breathed, gripping my hips and fucking me hard and fast. “Touch yourself. I want you to come on my cock.”
I didn’t need telling twice. I stroked my clit, keeping in time with his thrusts, holding onto the counter with my other hand. He reached out, grabbing my hair and pulling on it. The pain intensified my pleasure, and my legs shook; I was about to come.
He suddenly let go of my hair, leaning down so his head was close to mine, still bucking into me. He smacked my ass hard, making me cry out, and growled in my ear, “Come for me. Now.”
It sent me over the edge, and my orgasm exploded within me. I cried out again, shaking, waves and waves of wonderful pleasure rolling through me.
He straightened, gripping my hips so hard it hurt. He continued ramming into me, making me bounce against the counter, while I came down from my high.
Then his breath hitched. “Fuck, I’m coming,” he hissed, and he let out a guttural groan as he bucked into me, spraying hot cum into my pussy.
He stilled, breathing heavily, then slid out of me.
“Turn around. Get on your knees,” he ordered. He was still breathless, and I couldn’t help but giggle at him as I turned to face him. He cocked his head warningly--though he was grinning--and grasped my shoulders, forcing me to my knees. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him, and this time he couldn’t contain himself, letting out a hiss, tilting his head back. He gripped the back of my head and fucked my mouth for a bit, letting out little moans that made me wet all over again. His cum dripped down my thighs.
He finally let me up and put his slacks back on, grinning.
I was flushed, grinning stupidly too, but I looked around. “Can I use your bathroom?”
He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“So I can clean up.”
“You’re not doing that. Walk around again. I want to see my cum on your legs.”
He was so full of sexy surprises, and I got hot again. He fixed himself a second drink and returned to the couch, watching me stroll around the living room, his cum still dripping from my pussy.
“Come here,” he said, and I went over to him. “Spread your legs.”
I did, and he studied them for a moment, admiring my thighs, wet with cum, and my swollen, dripping pussy.
He smirked and looked at me. “I just might have to keep you.”