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The Essence of Love By Wayne Christopher Rogers Wayne Christopher Rogers has
been writing for well over twenty years including
written horror fiction for Cavalier magazine (Stephen King's old
stomping ground) before it went under, erotic fiction for Ouch!,
Countess Anne's Lashes and
Lashes Lust, Diana Vesta's Attitude and Vestige. He
had his first erotic
novel, The Ten Days of
Submission, published by Pink Flamingo Publishing last year. You
can pick up a copy at https://www.pinkflamingo.com/EroticNovels/Book_Show.asp?Book=PF6041
As Carolyn finished her bath and stepped out of the tub, I stood
up and began to dry her off with a large soft towel.
She looked into the mirror over the sink, staring at me as I ran
the cotton towel over her bare back and buttocks.
“I need to dry off my chest and stomach,” she said.
I handed the towel to her and watched as
she casually wiped the beads of moisture from the front of her lovely
body, taking her time, enjoying the look in my eyes.
When she was done, my wife gave me back the bath towel and
instructed me to finish drying off her legs and feet.
When that was finally done, Carolyn handed me a plastic bottle of
body lotion. I squirted some
of the creamy liquid on the palm of my right hand, put the bottle down
on the top of the toilet, and rubbed both of my hands briskly together
so that the lotion wouldn’t feel cold to her skin.
I then began to apply it to her body, starting at the ankles and
gradually working my way up. I
gently massaged her muscles as I rubbed the lotion into her soft, bare
skin, listening to the sounds of contentment that were coming from her
mouth.
Carolyn enjoyed being pampered.
When we were finished, I followed my wife out of the bathroom and
into the master bedroom.
This was her room.
I generally slept in one of the spare bedrooms down the short
hallway and was never allowed in my wife’s room without her explicit
permission.
“What do you think I should wear tonight?” Carolyn asked as
she stepped over to her large walk-in closet.
She opened its two accordion doors and then stood there for a few
moments, staring silently at the massive display of clothing.
“Maybe I should go with black leather?”
“You don’t want to scare poor Jonathan away,” I said.
“It might be better to go with your tight tan skirt and the
dark brown, long sleeved silk blouse.
I think that would be sexy. You
could wear your brown leather jacket over it.”
“Yes, I like that, Daniel.
What about underneath the outfit?”
“Except for the nylons, I would keep
everything the same color.”
“Dark brown?”
“Yes,” I said.
“What kind of lingerie should I wear?”
“My suggestion is a lacey, push-up bra
with matching garter belt and panties,” I said, knowing that her new
lover would be turned on by it. “I
also think a full-length slip with spaghetti straps and skin-tone nylons
with seams up the back would be extra sexy.
That’ll have Jonathan howling at the moon in no time at all.”
“Seams are hard to keep straight,”
Carolyn said.
“Yes, they are,” I agreed.
“Still, seams on the back of stockings have an intense affect
on a man’s psyche. When
Jonathan sees them, the only thing that’s going to be on his mind is
the mysteriousness of what’s underneath your skirt.
That’s the way it is with men.”
“He already knows what’s up there, darling.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
“It’s all in the mind. Besides,
tonight’s going to be different from your two previous dates.
You want him to
be in a state of heat so that he’ll be more willing to play your
sexual games.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then go with the seams.”
This was going to be my wife’s third
get-together with Jonathan. They
had met in the lounge at the Venetian Hotel the week before.
My wife liked to occasionally scope out the lounges around
The last two dates Carolyn had with her new lover had ended up
back at his apartment, but tonight she intended to bring him to our home
to see just how far the envelope could be pushed at this early stage of
the relationship. Though my
wife thought there was the possibility of having a long-term
relationship with Jonathan, she needed to make sure that he was suitable
for what she had in mind. Carolyn
also wanted to demonstrate her dominance over me in front of him so that
he would feel more comfortable in having sex with her with me in the
background. She’d already
explained to him that our marriage was based on the belief of female
domination and that I was treated as her personal slave.
Still, she wanted him to experience our lifestyle on a first-hand
basis so that he would understand that I had absolutely no say-so in her
affairs and that he was free to come (no pun intended) over every night
and make love to her, if that was what they both desired.
“Get everything ready for me while I put on my make-up,” my
wife said.
As she walked over to her vanity table and
sat down in front of it, I went over to the stereo system in the far
corner of the bedroom and put on a CD that was the soundtrack to the
movie, Somewhere In Time.
Carolyn and I loved the music to this particular film for
it seemed to express the strong emotions that we both felt for each
other.
I listened to the soft music fill the
bedroom as I entered the walk-in closet and picked out the tan skirt,
the brown silk blouse, and a pair of dark brown shoes with four-inch
heels on them. Carrying the
clothes out of the closet and over to the king-size bed, I laid the
skirt and blouse on top of the black comforter and set the shoes down on
the floor. Then, moving over
to the wardrobe chest that was located next to the dresser bureau, I
opened its wooden doors.
The top drawer of the tall chest held my wife’s panties, neatly
folded and arranged by color, while the one just below it contained her
brassieres, girdles, corsets, and garter belts.
The third drawer was filled with pantyhose, regular nylons,
workout tights for the gym, and socks, and the fourth one held an array
of different styles of slips. I
gathered the articles of clothing I needed out of the drawers and took
them over to the bed. Knowing
that it would be awhile before Carolyn was finished putting on her
make-up, I knelt down at the foot of the bed and assumed the position of
a slave, placing my hands behind my back and my face to the carpet.
Twenty minutes past by before my wife was ready to get dressed.
She switched off the lights on her vanity table, stood up, and
walked over to where I was kneeling.
“You look so natural in that position,”
she said.
I didn’t say anything.
“Would you like to help me get
dressed?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“Hand me the garter belt,” Carolyn instructed.
Rising to my knees, I picked up the garter
belt from off the bed and gave it to her.
My wife smiled down at me as she wrapped the lacey piece of
lingerie around her waist and then turned around so that I could fasten
the back of it for her. After
I connected the eyehooks on the back of the garter belt, she sat down on
the edge of the bed and asked me to give her one of the nylons.
This was the best part of helping Carolyn
to get dressed.
I loved to watch her as she put on a pair of stockings.
I couldn’t think of anything more sensual than when a woman
performed this rather simple, but extremely intoxicating act.
It was one of my weaknesses, and Carolyn used it to her full
advantage. She had long,
beautiful legs (the kind of legs a model would kill for) that seemed to
go on forever and seeing those legs incased in a pair of sheer nylons
brought out the submissive side of my personality in full force.
I wanted to kneel before those legs…to kiss them…to run my
hands up and down them, delighting in the sensation of nylon against
flesh…to place my face between them so I could service my Mistress
like the well-trained slave that I was.
Grabbing one of the nylons from the bed, I
positioned myself in front of Carolyn and then handed it to her.
She quickly rolled the piece of hosiery up into a little ball and
slipped it gingerly over the toes of her right foot.
Then, stretching her leg out past my head, she slowly unrolled
the nylon down her ankle, calf and thigh.
It was a gorgeous sight to behold.
I could fill a thickening in the front of my pants as a wave of
sexual heat flooded through my body.
“Would you like to kiss my foot like a
good slave?” she asked.
“Yes, Mistress.”
As Carolyn fastened the two garter tabs to
the top of the stocking, I took her right foot in my hand like it was a
priceless artifact and softly kissed it with outright love and
adoration.
“I need the other nylon,” she said.
I released her foot, grabbed the second
nylon, and handed it to her. She
then repeated the process with her left leg.
After my wife fastened the garters on the left side of her body,
I slipped the dark brown stiletto-heeled shoes onto her feet and she
stood up, towering over me like a true Goddess.
“My panties, please.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I got her satin panties and then helped her
to step into them. She
pulled them teasingly up her legs and over the garter belt, putting on a
sexy little show for me. Whenever
Carolyn wore panties, she always made it a habit to wear them on the
outside of the garter belt so that accessibility for sex would be
easier. There’d been one
night when she had met a man in a lounge, and they’d gone outside to
the dark alleyway in the back and had sex.
He had made her lean up against the wall of the lounge like cops
do to suspects in the movies. The
guy then pulled Carolyn’s skirt up to her waist, ripped off her
panties, and fucked her from behind as cars drove by only a short
distance away.
Accessibility.
That was my wife’s motto.
I watched as Carolyn put on the bra and
slip, then her blouse and skirt. She
not only looked beautiful and sexy, but classy as well.
Walking over to the dresser bureau, she picked up a brush and
began to comb her long brown hair. I
could literally feel my heart expanding with joy for this very special
woman who made my life so complete in every way imaginable.
Is it possible for a person to express the deep-rooted love that
exists between a dominant female
and her submissive
husband? I’m not sure.
Perhaps there are no words to adequately describe the coming
together of these two unique individuals.
I do know that when a man kneels before his wife and offers his
mind, body and soul to her in servitude, desiring only to please her in
whatever way she chooses, it is only then that he truly understands his
one purpose in life…his sole reason for existing.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many people would be able to
grasp the concept that when a dominant female instructs her husband in
the art of obedience by whipping him, she’s expressing her own pure
love for his essence and well being?
Not many.
Even less would be able to understand a
submissive husband’s expression of love through the act of bathing and
then dressing his wife in preparation for her date with another man.
It made me realize that each couple must find what works best for
them, ignoring the norms of society, trusting their own desires and
instincts, wanting only to please each other.
A philosopher once said that to understand the true nature of
love is to be enlightened.
I couldn’t agree more.
“I love you,” I said.
Carolyn looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled.
That I worshipped this woman more than life
itself was no secret to those who knew us.
My feelings for her were blatantly obvious.
It could be no other way with this remarkable and breathtaking
individual. In many ways she
was the personification of the Earth Goddess and therefore the creator and protector of all;
yet, there was also the dark side that reminded me of the Hindu Goddess
Kali. My wife could have a
man quivering in his shoes with just a look of her dark eyes.
In a sense, she was the epitome of every submissive male’s
fantasy: beautiful, sexy, intelligent, creative, extremely aggressive in
the work place, firm in her beliefs on how a man should treat her, and
utterly ruthless in the infliction of punishment when displeased with
the behavior of a male.
When Carolyn had agreed to marry me, she
did so with a number of stipulations that were non-negotiable.
The first was that I sign a written contract stating that I
willingly gave up all of my rights as a husband and agreed to serve her
as a personal slave. The
document further stated that she’d have complete freedom to take other
lovers during the course of our marriage with my full knowledge and
approval. I, on the other
hand, would be required to be not only faithful, but celibate as well.
My sexual outlet would be strictly monitored and controlled by
Carolyn at all times. I
would be permitted no orgasm without her explicit permission.
The document was to be signed by both of us, witnessed by her
lawyer, and notarized by his secretary.
The second rule was that all my paychecks
from work would be immediately turned over to her.
She’d control the finances of our marriage.
This would ensure my dependence on her and make me more
complacent to her demands.
The third stipulation had to do with the household chores.
It would be my responsibility to keep our home cleaned to her
specifications, to do the laundry on a weekly basis, to keep up the
lawn, to wash and wax the cars, do the grocery shopping, run any
errands, to make up the beds each and every morning, etc., etc.
Also, my wife would have her own bedroom, while I would sleep in
another.
The next rule was that she be pampered on a
daily basis with foot and body massages.
At times it would be my job to bathe Carolyn and help prepare her
for dates with other men. I
would also be sexually submissive to her.
I was to be available at all times to sexually please her in
whatever way she desired.
Another stipulation was that I lose a certain amount of weight
and then maintain myself at that weight through daily exercise and
healthy eating. She didn’t
want me dying at an early age.
The final rule was absolute
obedience to her every command.
Disobedience, sarcasm, anger, or moodiness on my part would
result in swift punishment. Carolyn
had a number of expensive riding crops and wooden canes that were
capable of causing severe pain, not to mention a thick wooden paddle
that could quickly change a man’s attitude with just a minute or two
of forceful use. My wife had
no hesitation in administering a hard whipping in order to correct
non-desirable behavior. Sometimes,
however, the look on her face would be enough to do the trick.
“What time is it?” Carolyn asked.
“Seven-fifteen,” I said.
“Jonathan will be here in a few minutes.
While we’re gone, I want you to do the laundry and give the
house a general cleaning. That
should keep you occupied until we get back.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Remember to wash my lingerie in
Woolite.”
“I’ll remember.”
“How do I look?” she asked, turning
around and modeling for me.
“Like a Goddess,” I said, rising to my
feet.
Carolyn came over and kissed me gently on the lips.
“I don’t know if Jonathan will be spending the night or not.
If he doesn’t, you may come to my room after he leaves.”
“I’ll like that.”
My wife bent over, lifted the hem of her skirt, and readjusted
the garter tabs on each stocking. I
found myself becoming aroused again by her actions.
Of course, I was always turned on whenever Carolyn was around.
I think a lot of men felt the same way about her.
Smoothing down her skirt, she gave me another kiss and then went
downstairs to wait for her boyfriend.
I started collecting the dirty clothes, bed sheets, and bath
towels from both of our rooms and was in the process of carrying them
downstairs when the front doorbell rang.
I heard Carolyn answer the door as I came down the steps.
Rounding the corner of the stairway, I saw her and Jonathan
kissing in the foyer.
I suddenly felt like a voyeur.
When they finished the kiss, Jonathan
looked up in my direction and nodded his head in acknowledgement.
Carolyn turned around, stared up at me, and offered me one of her
tantalizing smiles.
“We’ll be back around eleven,” she stated.
“Have a good time,” I said.
Jonathan waved nonchalantly as they walked
out the front door. He
seemed like a pleasant fellow. I
knew my wife was very pleased with how the relationship was developing.
Walking across the foyer, I closed the door behind them and then
carried the basket of laundry out to the washroom.
I had the house cleaned and the laundry
washed by
By the time my wife and her lover got home,
I had the first draft of the story finished. I heard the front door open
and the sound of voices downstairs.
I could hear Carolyn laughing happily at something.
A few minutes passed before they started up the stairs.
“My bedroom is down there,” Carolyn said to him as they
entered the upstairs hallway. “I
need to see how Daniel’s doing.”
“Don’t be long,” Jonathan said.
“I won’t.”
I turned around in the chair as Carolyn
walked into my bedroom with a happy expression on her face.
“How did the evening go?” I asked.
She came over and stood beside me at the
desk. “We had dinner at
Sergio’s,” she said, “and then we went dancing at C2K.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“It was wonderful,” Carolyn said as she
bent over and kissed me on the cheek.
“Did you get the cleaning done?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“You’re such a good slave.”
“I also finished the first draft of “No
Hitchhiking.”
“When
can I read it?”
“I need to do a quick rewrite to polish
it up and correct any mistakes,” I said.
“It should be ready to read by tomorrow night.”
“I can’t wait.
Listen, I want you to go downstairs to the kitchen and get the
bottle of Asti Spumante out of the refrigerator.
Open it, then put the bottle in a bucket of ice and bring it up
to the bedroom with two glasses.”
“Okay.”
Carolyn took my right hand and placed it on her leg as she kissed
me again. I felt the
impression of garter tabs beneath the skirt.
I found myself becoming aroused as her lips moved to my mouth.
I could feel the tip of her tongue pressing forward, pushing its
way between my lips. My hand
gradually worked its way under her skirt, sliding up the sheer nylon to
the warm flesh of her thigh. I
suddenly felt Carolyn’s hand on the crotch of my jeans, rubbing my
erection, teasing me with the expectation of things to come.
Pulling her lips away from mine, but
keeping her hand pressed firmly to the hard mound of flesh in the front
of my jeans, she stared into my eyes with an intensity that startled me.
“You know I love you,” she whispered.
“Yes,” I said.
“When you hear the sounds of Jonathan
making love to me tonight, I want you to picture him in your mind,
buried deeply within my body, bringing me pleasure, satisfying me in
ways few other men have been able to do.”
“Yes, Mistress.’
Carolyn released her hold on me and
straightened back up. I
watched as she turned around and walked out of my room, her hips
swishing seductively. I let
out a deep breath, rose to my feet, and went downstairs.
Upon entering the kitchen, I immediately went to the refrigerator
and took out the chilled bottle of wine.
I removed the tin foil from the top of the bottle and then
unwound the wire netting from around the cork.
Carefully popping the cork so that none of wine ran out, I set
the bottle down on the counter and reached up to one of the top
cabinets. I pulled out a
metal tray and ice bucket. I
put the bottle into the bucket, then took out four trays of ice cubes
from the freezer and emptied them one by one into the metal bucket.
That would keep the wine fairly cold for at least an hour.
I took two wine glasses from the cabinet and then carried
everything upstairs to my wife’s bedroom.
I knocked on the partially closed door and
heard the sound of Carolyn’s voice telling me to come in.
Pushing the door open with my foot, I entered the room and saw my
wife sitting on the end of her bed.
She sat there in her slip, leaning back with legs crossed, as a
naked Jonathan knelt in front of her and passionately kissed her left
foot. I caught a brief
glimpse of her stocking tops as I walked across the room and put
everything down on her dresser bureau.
“Pour me some wine, darling,” Carolyn
said to me.
I took the bottle out of the bucket and
poured her a full glass of wine. Replacing
the bottle back inside the bucket of ice, I carried the glass over to
her. She took it from me and
sipped at the cold wine, her eyes never leaving my face.
“Kiss me,” she ordered.
I bent down, put my hand behind her head,
and pulled her close to me. I
kissed her softly on the lips. To
my surprise, the kiss quickly turned into something more passionate and
erotic. I heard Carolyn moan
with pleasure as our tongues probed each other’s mouths.
I could feel myself becoming sexually aroused and wondered what
my wife was up to.
When Carolyn finally broke off the kiss, she stared up at me for
a moment with a smile of delight on her face.
She then glanced down at Jonathan and the smile grew bigger.
I turned to see what she was looking at.
Her lover was still on his knees, kissing her foot like a true
submissive. What I hadn’t
noticed before was that he had a huge erection jutting out before him.
I found myself both impressed and intimidated by the sheer size
of his sexual organ, suddenly understanding why my wife was hoping for a
long-term relationship with this gentleman.
I also understood why she’d ordered me to kiss her in front of
her nude lover. Carolyn had
wanted me to see the size of Jonathan’s erection, knowing the
psychological affect it would have.
She knew, as only a woman can, that when I returned to my
bedroom, it would be impossible for me not to picture his large penis penetrating her vulva, filling her
completely, carrying her to a new level of sexual abandonment that I’d
only dreamed about. There
were few things that could make me feel more submissive or insecure than
knowing just how much sexual pleasure another man was giving my wife.
As her husband and slave, it was a humiliation that I was
required to bear.
“You may go,” she said.
I looked at her and saw the recognition of
my plight in her eyes. She
offered me a gentle smile to lighten the pain I was experiencing as a
cuckolded husband. Standing
back up, I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me.
I went back downstairs and got a glass of
milk and a box of Famous Amos cookies.
I carried the snack back up to my room and sat down in front of
the computer to start on the rewrite.
I wrote for nearly thirty minutes, smoothing out the sentence
structure and making corrections as I came across them.
It was the sound of my wife and Jonathan making love that finally
caused me to stop writing. Carolyn’s
bedroom was only twenty feet down the hall from mine and the walls were
thin. I’d also left my
bedroom door open. Since my
wife was extremely passionate and vocal during sex, it came as no
surprise that I’d be able to hear her from my room.
I got up from the desk and stepped out into the hallway where the
sounds of their lovemaking were more audible.
I could actually hear Jonathan grunting with effort, and I knew
that he was driving his powerful manhood repeatedly into my wife.
It wasn’t long before she had her first orgasm.
Her voice rose to a fever pitch as she cried out in wild ecstasy.
I couldn’t stop myself from picturing Jonathan on top, driving
into her with long, deep thrusts as his buttocks pumped up and down.
I could see Carolyn’s stocking-covered legs wrapped tightly
around his lower back. I
could hear her voice as she whispered to him not to hold back…to let it happen…to cum inside of her.
Jonathan’s ejaculation would be hard and forceful.
His sperm would fill my wife’s womb to capacity.
These thoughts put me in an acute state of
sexual heat.
Turning around, I left the door open as I went back into my room.
I switched off the light and lay down on the bed.
I could still hear them quite vividly from where I was, staring
up at the ceiling of my room.
The hours passed. It
was almost
“Do you want to sleep with me?” she
asked.
“Yes,” I said.
As I got off the bed and began to remove my clothes, Carolyn
turned around and went back to her room.
I followed her a minute later.
The lights were off in the master bedroom.
Still, I could see my wife snuggled up under the covers of her
bed. I climbed into the bed
beside her, feeling the wet sheets beneath me, and placed my left arm
around her stomach. She
quickly turned over and pressed up against my body.
I could sense the urgency in her as she kissed me hard on the
mouth. Jonathan had brought
my wife to a number of orgasms, but she still wasn’t completely
satisfied. There was a need
in her that only I could fulfill, and I knew exactly what it was.
Pulling
the covers aside, Carolyn took my head and slowly pushed it down to the
junction of her body. Her
legs parted for me. She
guided me to the source of her power, arching her pelvis upward as I
lowered my mouth to her mons veneris.
I could smell the muskiness of recent sex.
I kissed her pelvic bone and ran my tongue lightly over the pubic
area. I unexpectedly felt
her hand pressing down on my head, urging me to go lower, to please her
in a way that only a slave could. I
moved downward and pressed my mouth to the lips of her labia, spreading
them apart with my tongue, pushing inward as I searched for her
clitoris.
I could already taste the semen of her lover.
There was a lot of it.
I located Carolyn’s tiny bud of rapture and began to focus all
of my attention on stimulating her with the tip of my tongue.
She loved having me go down on her after making love with another
man. My willingness to do it
strengthened her position as Mistress of the house.
It also demonstrated my eagerness to please her in whatever way
was demanded, proving that I not only loved her, but that I wanted to be
her slave in every sense of the word.
“Can you taste him?” Carolyn asked as
she pressed her body hard against my face.
“Yes,” I muttered.
“Good.”
Burying my face back into the wet vortex of her womanhood, I
began to once again lick her clitoris.
I could feel her thighs gripping the sides of my head, holding me
firmly in place so that I couldn’t escape.
The hand on the back of my head increased its pressure.
Her pelvis began to grind against my mouth with an insistence
that demanded total satisfaction.
“Yes,” she moaned. “That’s
it!”
I needed no encouragement with what I was
doing. I knew Carolyn and
what she enjoyed. Jonathan
might be well endowed, but I was an expert in orally servicing my wife,
pleasing her for hours at a time with my tongue, causing her to have
numerous orgasms that were as powerful as the ones she’d had during
intercourse. I did this with
no thought toward my own gratification.
I was a slave to my Mistress and this was one of the ways that I
showed my devotion to her.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” she cried out, gripping my head with both hands,
holding me solidly in position so that I couldn’t move until the
ecstatic waves of pleasure coursing through her body ended their
shivering journey.
When the first orgasm gradually faded away,
she rolled me over onto my back and straddled my face, riding my tongue
to a second orgasm of hot intensity.
We stared into each other’s eyes as her pelvis ground into my
mouth with a force that was almost frightening.
For the next hour, I continued to service Carolyn with my tongue,
bringing her to several more explosive orgasms.
When she was finally satisfied with my performance as a slave,
not to mention worn out, we snuggled into each other’s arms and waited
for sleep to overtake us.
“You know that I’ll never love another
man as much I do you,” she whispered to me in the darkness of the
bedroom.
“Yes,” I said.
“I can see us growing old together.”
“So can I.”
“Don’t
ever worry about one of my lovers taking me away from you,” Carolyn
said with utter conviction. “It
will never happen. You’re
the most important person in my life and no matter how badly I treat
you, it’s always done with love.”
“I know,” I said.
She turned over with her back to me, and I
pressed up against her like a spoon, gently wrapping my arm around her
body and kissing her tenderly on the bare shoulder.
Sleep finally arrived and we drifted slowly into the realm of
dreamtime, conscious only of our love for each other. ~~~ Copyright
2003 This
story is reprinted here with the explicit permission of the author. If
you would like to share it with others, please link directly to this
page or contact the author for permission. It is a violation of
copyright law to distribute or reprint this piece without that
permission, however you may include a short quote from it, not more than
20% of the total text. Please respect the integrity of this work.
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