Work had been stressful. I lamented to my husband that I’d love to just let go, to have one day where I could be pampered and coddled without having to make a single decision for myself.

But he didn’t give me a day. He gave me a whole weekend.

It started when I walked through the door after work on a Friday evening. Julian took my briefcase and sat me on the bench in the hall to remove my shoes.

“Tonight, all of the decisions are mine to make,” Julian promised. He took my hand and pulled me up to face him. “Now take off those clothes. Do it slowly. I want to enjoy the show,” he shared.

He took a step back and regarded me from under heavy-lidded eyes. Authority dripped from his usually soft and gentle voice when he issued his first command, “Start with the skirt.”

Feeling instantly freer than I had in weeks, I readily obliged. I tugged open the hook and eye closure at my waistband and gradually pulled down the garment’s zipper, allowing the fabric to fall to my feet.

“Now take off your shirt and put it on the bench behind you.”

Eager to be naked, I scrambled to pop open my buttons. But Julian reached out to steady my hands.

“Not so fast,” he chided.

He looked into my eyes and pinned me with his burning gaze as he said, “Savor the experience.”

Remembering I was not in charge for the evening, I dialed it back and slowly unfastened one button at a time.

“Much better,” Julian said. “I can’t wait to see those beautiful breasts.”

Continuing to pace myself, I casually slipped off my shirt and unclasped my bra. Since Julian didn’t say where to discard the lingerie, I decided to allow gravity and the weight of the cups to do the work of baring my boobs.

But Julian interjected to say, “Don’t let it fall. Place it on the bench behind you.”

I should have known my neat freak husband would prefer my clothing be folded with care. I should have expected him to chime in. After all, he did promise I wouldn’t have to make a single decision, and that meant his instructions would guide my way.

“Put the skirt there, too, while you’re at it,” he added.

When I bent to scoop up the skirt, my bra straps slipped off my shoulders and down my arms to my wrists. I neatly gathered up the skirt and bra and arranged them on the seat. Then I turned to face my husband, wearing nothing but a thong and nylon pantyhose.

Julian’s handsome face wore one of his dazzling smiles, the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes them sparkle.

“Now walk over to the couch,” he demanded. “I’m going enjoy the view of your nearly naked body.”

I spun on my heel and strutted to the sofa, taking care to swing my hips. Julian has always been vocal about how much he loves my ass. He says it’s juicy and sweet like a sun-ripened Georgia peach. Since he was giving me the glorious experience I’d craved, it was only fair that I show my gratitude.

As I stopped at the couch, my husband demanded, “Bend over so I can better admire your ass.”

His animalistic hunger was evident in his voice.

I leaned forward, resting my hands on the back of the couch and arching my back to present my rear in the most tempting way.

He ran a palm over one cheek, then the other. He stroked my backside, and his touch was electric — even through the pantyhose I still wore. His hands then skated over to my hips and took hold of the thick elastic band that held up my hose. He peeled the filmy fabric down to just below my butt. He was so close to me I felt the warm puff of his breath fanning over my flesh.

“You are a delight, my darling,” Julian said.

He nipped one cheek, nibbling the succulent flesh with his teeth before soothing it with a kiss. Next, he tugged my cheeks apart and yanked my thong aside, then he dove into my rear crevice. The warm, wet tip of his tongue circled my puckered hole, awakening my excitable nerves. Despite Julian’s delicate touch, my whole body went haywire. Pleasure radiated all through me. Tendrils of excitement traveled up my spine and swirled along my limbs. When my legs began to quake, Julian backed off.

“Careful now,” he cautioned. “It’s going to be a long night. We don’t want you to fall to pieces too soon.”

Even though I do love ass play, I knew Julian was right. Holding off my orgasm was only going to make it sweeter later on. After all, he was fulfilling my wish by taking the reins. If I wanted an evening totally free from choice, I was obligated to trust my husband and submit to his authority — no matter how badly I wanted him to continue licking my ass!

“Yes, dear,” I replied obediently.

I took a deep breath as I tried — and failed — to steady my racing heart. I patiently waited for Julian to continue directing me. Thankfully, he didn’t leave me hanging for long.

“Let’s get you naked,” he said.

He skimmed his palms from my thighs all the way down to my ankles, rolling the pantyhose over my skin as he worked. A cool breeze rushed in from a cracked open window. The air caressed my newly bared flesh, treating me to a delicious little chill that served to heighten my senses.

Julian tapped one of my ankles, prompting me to lift my foot. When I did, he freed me from the hose and turned his attention to the other side. This time, he scooted his fingers beneath the arch of my foot, lifting it himself to remove the silky fabric.

When my legs were unencumbered, Julian stood and dangled the stockings in front of me.

“I have a plan for these,” he teased. “But first, we need to make your thong disappear.”

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my G-string and slid the stretchy garment down my thighs. When his mouth was level with my ass, he laid another kiss on each butt cheek before moving on. Part of me wanted to ask if he’d give my asshole another kiss, too, but I knew that wasn’t how the evening was meant to go. Instead, I exercised restraint, knowing my husband would give me an earth-shattering orgasm — as long as I kept my mouth shut!

About that need for silence. Julian must have realized I was struggling to bite my tongue, so he decided to help me out.

“Face me,” he ordered.

I obeyed and saw my thong dangling from one of his fingers. He waved it back and forth playfully.

“I am so proud of you for relinquishing control. Now, let’s help you stay quiet.”

He rolled the tiny scrap of fabric into a ball and said, “Open wide.”

It took a second for me to process what he intended to do. But I gave myself a mental shake. Again, the evening was about me letting go, and that was what I would do. Without another thought, I obediently let my jaw drop.

Julian carefully tucked the crumpled thong between my parted lips. When the fabric was fully ensconced, he tapped two fingers under my chin to encourage me to close my mouth. The smell and taste of my own sex flooded my senses. It treated me to a hint of what it must be like to eat my own pussy.

But Julian had more surprises in store for me.

“Lift your arms over your head, and hold your wrists together.”

The last two words had barely left his lips, and I was already reaching for the ceiling. I was desperate for Julian to fuck me, but I also wanted to make him proud. I knew carefully following his directions was a surefire way to make my man happy.

Being taller than me made it easy for Julian to wind my pantyhose around my wrists. He looped the stretchy stockings around and around, not stopping until only two tiny tails remained for tying.

“My, my look at you all trussed up. I love it,” he cooed appreciatively.

He treated me to a gentle kiss on the lips, then he pulled back and said, “Now get on all fours on the couch.”

Julian hadn’t laid so much as a finger on my pussy, but moisture was practically gushing from my sex. It had coated my cunt lips and made my inner thighs slick. I was beyond ready for my husband to nail me.

With a guiding hand from Julian, I clambered onto the cushions and arranged myself. My arms were still bound together, but I perched myself on my elbows and arched my back.

He soon joined me on the couch, settling himself behind me. My senses were so heightened I swear could hear the teeth of his zipper pulling apart one by one.

I thought he would sink his dick into me right away, but he refrained. Instead, he gave me one final tongue bath, licking me from my asshole to my pussy. Only then did he jam his dick inside my snatch and start to pump in and out of me. He slapped one hand against my ass and moved the other around to my clit.

For the first time in a long time, my mind was blessedly blank. All that mattered was me, Julian, and the orgasm hurtling toward me like a runaway train.

The thong in my mouth couldn’t absorb all of my moans. My cunt was flowing like a fucking waterfall, even as it tightly gripped Julian’s cock. Before long, we became a panting, writhing mass of limbs as we were completely overwhelmed by pleasure.

But that was only the start of a delightfully kinky weekend.

Handing over the reins to my husband was the best decision I’d ever made, and I’ll gladly do it again!