“What are you doing this weekend?”

Shelly asked me as we grabbed our coats to leave the office. It was Friday at six. Finally. I had been counting down the hours all day. For the last hour, I’d actually been keeping track of the minutes.

“I’m going to be all tied up,” I told her, hoping she did not hear the sassy tone in my voice.

“Yeah, me, too. So much to do, so little time!”

I smiled at my coworker and said I’d see her on Monday. I was sure she had no clue that I’d meant what I’d said literally. My car ride home was 20 minutes of solo foreplay. I imagined what Bryan would have in store for me. The music on the radio seemed to sense I was in for something sultry. All the tunes had a throbbing beat. I tried my best not to grind my pussy against the car seat. I knew my panties would be soaked by the time I got home, and possibly the car seat, too.

I arrived at our place just in time. If I’d encountered one more red light, I would’ve been forced to give in to temptation. Fortunately, Bryan had the gear all set up. I knew he would. He is meticulous. On the table by the front door was a pair of police-regulation handcuffs, a black velvet blindfold and a set of nipple clamps. I fingered the various items before taking off my coat and blouse. I knew exactly how he’d want to find me. While I undressed, I imagined what Shelly might have said if I’d told her exactly how my weekend was going to unfold. Would her bright blue eyes have widened in surprise if I’d said I’d be spending much of my time bound to the bed with my pussy alternatively whipped and worshiped by my husband—when he wasn’t teasing my asshole?

“I groaned and arched, loving the way he manhandled my pussy.”

I stepped out of my penny loafers, stripped off my stockings and then took off my bra. When I was wearing only a pair of black satin panties, I attached the clamps to my nipples. The pain was startling but deliciously erotic. I knew I’d grow accustomed to the sensation in moments. I always did.

As I fastened the blindfold over my eyes, I thought of Shelly once more. Would I have shocked her if I’d said Bryan gives my ass a thorough spanking every Friday night just to get things started? Perhaps that would’ve turned her on. What would she have thought if I’d explained I have a safeword, but I’ve never needed to use it? I put the handcuffs on myself. I didn’t need my sight for this. I’ve done the trick often enough. Now, I waited. Bryan would come and get me when he was ready. I could feel the moisture continuing to pool in my panties. I hoped he’d let me climax before too long. I was on the verge already. Sometimes Bryan is unexpectedly kind and lets me have a quick burst of pleasure before he metes out the pain. Other times, he prefers to make me beg.

Was Shelley into delayed gratification? Did any of her lovers ever pull on her clit or use a clamp with ridges to capture that little hot button? Would Shelly enjoy having her pussy smacked with four stiff fingers the same way I always do?

My ears picked up the telltale sound of Bryan approaching. I heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor, and the noise brought me back from my speculation.

“Baby,” he said, “you ready for me?”

“So ready,” I told him. He thrust his fingers into my panties and felt for himself, as if he didn’t trust my words. I groaned and arched, loving the way he manhandled my pussy. Then he spun me around and used one wet fingertip to circle my asshole.

“Which hole should I take first?” he asked. I guessed this was a rhetorical question, and I was right. He answered for himself by pushing me down to my knees and filling my mouth with his cock. While I happily sucked, I thought of taking Shelly aside on Monday, of telling her I’d been stretched and opened and spread all weekend.

And maybe asking if she’d like to join us next Friday.

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