My wife, Alex, is a study in contradictions. Nobody would be surprised to hear she’s heavily into books; her glasses and serious demeanor make her look like a sexy librarian. But if you thought my girl was spending her nights reading Jane Austen, you’d be dead wrong. Alex loves swashbuckling adventures, especially those set on alien planets. She has two master’s degrees and is working on her PhD, and as she’ll happily confess, she’s the world’s biggest nerd.

Similarly, observing her generally quiet demeanor, you could be forgiven for thinking she’d be the conservative type in the bedroom. But when her wild side comes out, she’s as sexy as hell. Knowing her as I do, I wasn’t all that surprised when I came home one night, about three months after our honeymoon, to find her dressed as a dancing girl from some fantasy harem.

She was resplendent in colored silks that left her midriff exposed. She was barefoot with anklets and toe rings, and sported a sheer veil that obscured her lovely face. She had put on some suitable music, all flutes and pounding drums. As I set down my briefcase she came to meet me, making weaving motions with her hands and executing complicated steps on the bedroom carpet.

“Master,” she breathed, stepping into my arms. “How can I please you?”

Alex had told me when we met that she was into cosplay — dressing up as characters from her favorite books and shows. I hadn’t yet really seen that side of her, but once I had I liked it. I liked it quite a bit. Another thing she had told me was she enjoyed fantasies in which she was the submissive servant of a powerful master. Up until that point, our sex life had been hot, but totally vanilla. I had a feeling that was about to change.

“You can start by getting me a drink,” I said, causing her to scamper off to the liquor cabinet.

A few minutes later I was relaxing on the couch, sipping an expertly prepared martini while Alex, draped across my lap like a cat, undid my tie. Unbuttoning my shirt, she slid her warm hands over my chest, caressing and stroking me. Being touched like that was heavenly, and I closed my eyes and let my head fall back.

“Does Master like that?” Alex purred, letting one hand drift down to my crotch. Her fingertips explored the bulge in my trousers, caressing its outline. She rose up slightly and whispered in my ear: “I’ll do whatever Master says.”

“Then unzip me,” I told her, “and give me a handjob.”

At first, it felt odd to order her around. We had experienced many different pleasures in the bedroom, but seldom actually demanded them. However, I could tell my dancing girl was anything but offended.

In fact, Alex went to work with a little chirping sound of pure pleasure. I felt my dick swell to an aching hardness as she unzipped my fly and oh-so-carefully guided my cock into the cool air. Alex arranged her body so she was lying on her front with her head over my middle, her bare feet kicking saucily in the air behind her. She wrapped her fingers around my erection and squeezed it firmly. After tossing her veil to the side, she kissed my dick and ran her tongue along its length, from the thick root to my fat cockhead.

I understood if I were to change my mind and demand Alex suck me off instead of rubbing me to orgasm, it would be perfectly all right. She might even be silently hoping for me to do just that, longing to let me fuck her mouth. However, she was completely devoted to my pleasure because my pleasure was one with her own.

Alex continued to lick my prick until it was slick with her saliva. Then she gripped me once more, although not as tightly as before, and began sliding my meat in and out of her fist with slowly increasing speed. I gasped and grabbed hold of the couch, pure sensation taking me out of myself and waking up nerves I’d forgotten I had. Sex with Alex had always been delicious, but to have her be so attentive to me, so fearless in exploiting my body’s capacity for pleasure, was incredible.

Continuing to jerk me, Alex slid the fingers of her free hand under my heavy nutsac and began tickling it. Her rapidly moving fingertips felt like little flames heating my load to boiling. Looking down, I saw the tip of my dick gleaming with pre-come.

“Can I make you spill now, Master?” she asked, turning her big dark eyes seductively toward me. “Can I make you come? Please?”

I loved that, the way she subtly took control while leaving me technically in charge. It thoroughly pleased me.

“Yes,” I croaked, and with that Alex squeezed my prick again. At the same time, she gripped my balls tightly and blew on my cockhead. The delicious symphony of sensations pushed me over the edge, and my ass rose slightly off the couch as a surprisingly large load surged out of me. Moving quickly, Alex caught my flow in one cupped palm, making sure not a single drop hit the couch. Smiling, she withdrew to the bathroom. A moment later, she returned to lap up the remaining streaks of cream that remained on my prick.

“You’re incredible,” I told her, leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

“I only want to please my master,” Alex said, smiling a little smugly.

The next morning, my wife was in jeans and running shoes instead of dancer’s silks and bangles, pounding down her coffee before hurrying off to start her day. I have to admit I missed my darling slave girl, but I found myself loving and admiring the real Alex all the more — and looking forward to the next time I was pampered and adored by her submissive alter ego.

As the week went on, I decided to be more proactive. I made some preparations, and on Friday morning, I casually asked Alex if she thought her dancing girl might make an appearance that weekend.

“She might,” Alex responded, smiling coyly, and that was the end of the conversation.

But that night when I got home from work, I heard the jingling of bells and bangles from our bedroom. When I entered, I was nearly overwhelmed by the sight of my gorgeous wife in dancer mode. She rushed over to me, nuzzling against me like a cat with ecstatic cries of “Master! Master’s home!”

My Alex is anything but predictable — I knew that before we married — and she seemed determined to keep an element of surprise in this game. She was still sweetly submissive, but in her hunger to please her master, she was almost aggressive as she pulled me onto the bed. Fortunately, that perfectly played into my plans for the evening.

“I think you need to learn how to calm down,” I said sternly. “I can’t have my dancer leaping around like a horny bunny.” Reaching under the pillows, I removed two sets of padded cuffs I had secreted there that morning after Alex had gone to work. I could tell by her reaction she wasn’t upset or even surprised to see them.

“Are you going to put me in bondage, Master?” she asked, licking her lips. She seemed to be tasting the words, almost relishing them.

“I am,” I said. We had never experimented with bondage before, but I had some experience with it from previous relationships. In no time, I had my saucy minx secured spread-eagled on the bed. I could tell Alex loved being helpless. She excitedly wriggled her hips nervously from side to side, her bare toes clenching as I undressed. But she also seemed to be testing her bonds, getting the measure of her situation before making her next move.

“Shall I stroke your cock again, Master?” she asked as I let my tie drop to the floor.

“Not at present. But don’t worry. You’ll be getting very well acquainted with my cock before I free you.”

With that, I crept onto the bed beside her and kissed her. She returned the kiss eagerly, sucking at my lips until I withdrew. My wife let out a feline-like cry of disappointment.

“Please let me kiss you, Master.”

“Soon,” I teased. I let my palms rest on her plump breasts, making light circular motions that excited her nipples. She moaned and writhed, hungry for my touch. When I leaned over and kissed her tits, she cried out.

“Master, please!”

“Yes?” I asked, leaning on my elbow and smiling lazily at her. “What is it?”

“You’re making me so horny, Master. My whole body is tingling. It feels like my skin is covered with little biting flies.”

“Are they biting your nipples? Here?” I pinched her boob — not too hard, but enough to make her squeak.

“Yes, Master!”

“Is one nibbling on your clit?” I don’t have to tell you what I did then.

“Oh, yes!” She sucked her breath between her teeth in a loud hiss as I tormented her nub. “Please fuck me, Master! I can’t stand it!”

I waited a few moments, pretending to think about it. Teasing her would have been great fun. But the entire scene was having an effect on me as well. My cock was rigid and aching. I longed to put it somewhere that would do us both some good. Finally, without saying a word — as though I wasn’t showing her mercy, so much as acting thoughtlessly on my own desires — I climbed atop her and reached down to position my cockhead at her slippery slit.

Luckily, Alex’s silks gave me access to her pussy. I slid myself into her cunt, and the inside of her love tunnel felt delicately ridged against my cock. I began moving my hips slowly, fucking her with an almost torturous gentleness. Alex’s body seemed to be trying to mold itself around my dick, fucking me as I was fucking her.

I felt her orgasm simmering inside her, a low fire that warmed us both. My balls were churning, but I prolonged the delicious agony as long as possible. Alex cried out, a little wail so sharp and loud I wondered if our neighbors had heard her. My load had built to critical mass, and I let loose into her, our bodies stiffening as we both climaxed.

I pressed my cheek to Alex’s, listening to her breathe. I had a feeling we’d be playing like this quite a bit in the future.

And you know what? That’s exactly what we did.