DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

He whispers "Doesn't your friend mind?"

Vicky giggles and presses her palm against the expensively
tailored silk trousers of Thierry's designer suited straining
crotch.

"Oh don't worry about him. He's not exactly my friend. He works
for me."

Pete couldn't believe his ears! His cheeks flushed red.

"He's your driver?"

"Yes. Among other things. He's my..." Vicky pauses and meets
Pete's eyes in the rear view mirror. "What would you call
yourself Petey?"

"Your manservant?" he shoots back sarcastically. She's taking
this way way too far now he thinks.

"Exactly. My servant."

Thierry looks surprised and then shrugs. It's none of his
business and all he cares about is the gorgeous woman who
appears to be taking him home for a night of pleasure. Who cares
about the hired help.

The pair continue canoodling as the merc speeds through the
night. Pete can't take his eyes off his young wife in her sexy
short crimson silk dress. He feels himself take in a deep breath
as a strap falls casually off her shoulder and Thierry's hand
snakes up to cup her breast. Pete wonders when he and Vicky were
last this sexually intimate. He can't even remember.

A twinge of sadness shoots through him, only to be overwhelmed
by a growing ache in his cock. He can't believe it. He was
getting hard watching Vicky with her young stud. What was wrong
with him? He was hurting and hard at the same time. 'What a
disgusting pervert', he thought about himself. It didn't occur
to him that Vicky was clearly just as perverse as he was. But it
certainly occurred to her and she was loving it.

Pete kept his eyes on the road and tried to ignore the sounds
from the back seat. A few minutes later he pulled up at their
large Victorian West London pile. He'd worked hard for his home
and was proud of it. He always felt a sense of satisfaction
hearing the tires of his expensive car crunch over the gravelled
driveway.

"Here we are" Vicky said brightly to Thierry. The young man was
obviously impressed. Pete switched off the engine and opened his
door to get out. He noticed neither of his passengers made any
move. Vicky fired him a mischievous glare. He got the message
and opening the rear car door for her, stood to one side as the
couple climbed out and headed straight up to the front door.

Vicky let them in and directed Thierry into the front room. Pete
was about to follow when she placed her palm on his chest
stopping him.

Loudly, for Thierry's benefit, "That's all for tonight Petey."
She ran her hand down to Pete's crotch. He could feel his cock
twitching madly under his wife's touch. "You can go to your
quarters. We won't be needing you any more."

Pete didn't know what to do, say or even think. Vicky whispered
coquettishly "Oh, and your little cutie is all excited... Shame.
God Petey, Thierry's cock is huge! I can feel it throbbing
away."

"Vicky?" Thierry calls.

"Coming!" and she pecks Pete on the cheek, hisses "guest room
for you" and runs off into the living room, shutting the door
behind her, leaving Pete stunned in the hallway wondering what
has just hit him.

He considers striding into the room and telling Thierry to get
the hell out of his house. But he knows he won't. He's too
afraid Vicky might just leave him to rattle about his huge pile
alone for the rest of his days. He couldn't imagine even a day
without her. Besides, Thierry looks like he'd make mincemeat out
of Pete if he wanted to. He swallows his pride trudges upstairs,
pausing at his and Vicky's bedroom door. His hand is on the door
knob before he realised it. Habit. He holds it for a moment
before slowly letting go and dejectedly slipping into the small
guest room next to their bedroom.

Shutting the door he looks at the small single bed and matching
vanity unit. The room smells of fresh flowers. He can't remember
the last time he had stood here. He had never slept in it. Vicky
kept the room like this for her younger step-sister's occasional
visits - less frequent now that she had grown up and gone to
university. 18 years old he thought. Unbelievable how time goes.

Pete got undressed down to his underwear, laid his clothes
carefully on the hardwood chair next to the bed and climbed
under the cool cotton sheets. He switched out the light.
Exhausted, he wanted to sleep and wake up tomorrow and forget
this whole horrible strange night.

And then he heard it. Giggling. Giggling coming up the stairs.
They were actually going to do it in his bed. Vicky was going to
fuck Thierry in their marital bed. He heard the door shut and
the muffled laughter and sounds of the pair of them knocking
into furniture as they collapsed onto the bed. Moments later he
could hear the rhythmic creaking of the mattress. They were
having sex.

And then Pete realised that his cock was raging hard.

To his horror, as he listened to the moans of his wife and the
gasps from Thierry coming through the wall in the dark, Pete
found himself imagining Vicky's legs, her breasts, the curve of
her hips, her lips, her neck. And then he realised he was
furiously pumping away at his cock keeping pace with the ebb and
flow of Vicky's conquest. He heard them yell at climax and
couldn't hold himself a moment longer. A jet of cum sprayed
across his bare chest and hit him in the face. He was mortified.
And yet he couldn't remember his jism spraying so high and far
ever before. Whatever was going on might be deeply humiliating.
But it was also intensely, life-changingly thrilling.

And then through the wall he heard Vicky and her man begin all
over again. Pete closed his eyes and tried jerking off again
until eventually fatigue overcame him and the night drew in.

TBC