So maybe it was me that was the sex object. We never spoke of love. She had a burning desire for sex, an insatiable desire to submit to a man's control and to give herself up to pleasing him any way he wished. She had picked me to be her lover and her owner and to satisfy the need she'd kept bottled up inside her for most of her life.
She had literally told me she would be my slut and my whore. She wanted to be my slut. Certainly she was never a whore; she never got paid for sex, but she wanted to think of herself as a woman who would perform any sexual act requested of her... by me, anyway.
She wanted to be a submissive slut who craved a man's cock and reveled in the pleasure of pleasing. She picked me to be that man. I suppose that actually made me the object of her lust and thus a sex object. But I still had to play my part, and that part was 'Daddy', and it was 'Sir', and it was to dominate her and to give her my hard cock to worship with any and every part of her body I chose.
I suppose there are men out there who might refuse that role, but I was certainly not one of them. I was lured and hooked and landed and I loved it despite the potential dangers it posed to my life if, as we cheated on our respective spouses, that could end up in disaster.
I suppose I can tell you now that it did end up in disaster, but I have to confess that I fell for it all as a very willing partner and as it eventually turned out after much heartache, it changed my life for the better in many (if not all) ways.
I'm telling you this now because I think many of you might think, "Man, I wish I had a situation like that; I wish I had a slut to do with as I pleased," but I want you to know that although there was an incredibly delicious amount of mind-blowing pleasure, there was a price to pay as well.
If you've read the earlier chapters of this story you'll know that Susan and I met as often as we could; you'll know how much she loved to take me in her mouth and make me cum for her, and how much she loved wearing sexy lingerie and talking dirty and cumming for me at the touch of my hands, my mouth, or as I watched her do herself.
You'll also know that we only had a car, a broom closet, or empty office and the like in which to quench the thirst we had for each other, always afraid of getting caught. We never had a place to be comfortable in so I could fuck this woman the way I wanted to and the way she deserved to be fucked.
We couldn't risk getting caught at one of our homes and we couldn't risk getting a room for fear that the hotel charge would show up on a credit card to be discovered by a spouse.
I came up with a plan and I executed that plan in order to get what we both wanted and on top of that I took the opportunity to be able to play out a scenario that may be the biggest fantasy known to modern man: the naughty schoolgirl!
She was thrilled at the idea and immediately got into playing the part of the horny young college slut who had the hots for teacher and whose grades had fallen as a result of her preoccupation with her handsome professor.
I advertised in the local online Personals, looking for someone who would host two cheating spouses for the pure kink of letting them have sex in their home and with the added bonus of being able to watch, as long as they did so without being seen.
I had absolute confidence that I'd find such a person and I did just that within two days of posting the ad. We exchanged emails agreeing on the arrangement and we set a time for the upcoming Saturday when I knew Susan and I could both get away and be together.
There was a store in town that was famous for having a line around the block when selling costumes just before Hallowe'en. It was a favorite place to shop for teens and tweens for pocketbooks, shoes, and accessories, but they also had an extensive collection of sexy lingerie and fantasy costumes. On top of that they were a favorite place for crossdressers and ladies of the night, with fuck-me shoes, wigs, makeup and toys.
The young clerks at the store were unfazed by anything and anyyone, serving every customer with a comfortable and cordial smile, be that customer a teenager buying earrings or a man looking for heels that fit his man-sized feet.
I paid a visit to the store on a lunchbreak and I picked out the perfect slutty schoolgirl outfit. I knew Susan's sizes and bought her a pair of pink fuck-me platform heels, white thigh highs, garters, and an impossibly skimpy, lacy thong that would leave her delicious ass virtually naked and only barely cover the smooth triangle of her sex.
To go over all that (barely), I found a sexy schoolgirl red plaid pleated micro miniskirt that wouldn't cover more than half of her rear end and a white crop top that was almost see through, stretchy and tied in front.
She would wear no bra, of course, and I knew her nipples would poke out underneath the thin material as it stretched over the firm shape of her delicious breasts. Classic!
I arranged with our host that he would hang a full length curtain to cover to divide the living room from the hall that led to his bathroom and bedroom, and that he would hide in his bedroom until Susan was done changing in the bathroom.
He knew he was welcome to quietly come out and stand behind the curtain after she left the bathroom where he could peek through and watch the fun.
I had briefed Susan on how to play her part. She knew to call me Professor and she knew what to do and say. She knew she was going to get a spanking and she was going to finally get fucked. She was thrilled! Beyond that her instructions were to just follow my lead.
We arrived at out host's street at just about the same time and parked, holding hands as we walked to his house. She had a bag with her makeup and I handed her the bag I'd brought from the store.
We rang the bell and were buzzed into the building, finding his apartment door unlocked and finding the living room/kitchen area empty as agreed.
The woman who went behind the curtain and into the bathroom dressed in her usually frumpy clothes and no makeup was an entirely different story when she parted the curtain and sashayed back into the living room!
I'd been waiting impatiently on the couch, dressed in a wool sports coat, dress pants, shirt, and shoes in my guise as the "Professor". I'd never seen her in makeup before and I was stunned.
As I've mentioned before, Susan would not be considered to have a beautiful face. It was not at all unpleasant looking; mild with regular features, but nothing that would catch your eye. It was her body -- the one she kept hidden under very nondescript and boring clothing ensembles -- that was truly spectacular. I couldn't understand why her husband didn't keep her under lock and key with that body but apparently he didn't appreciate what he had at all.
You might think I'm exaggerating to make this story more interesting, but I promise you she had the body of a lingerie model. Her legs were long and slender, beautifully shaped, culminating in back at the top in a spectacular ass -- firm, heart-shaped, and plump without being the least bit too large or small.
Five years my junior at the age of 26, she still had a body to die for. Her skin was flawless, her waist narrow and her stomach flat, with breasts you might swear were supplemented. They were not. They stood high and not overly large on her chest -- just the right size -- crowned by brown aureoles with nipples that became easily erect and were highly sensitive. They jutted out from her breasts not quite an inch when aroused, and were wonderfully delicious whenever my lips closed around them.
She had a long neck and very round, sexy shoulders. Her back creased in in the middle where her spine kept her posture perfect, and the lines of her figure narrowed dramatically as it descended from shoulders to hips. Her figure blossomed out again there to flow over her ass and meet the top of her thighs.
Those thighs curved on the inside to leave a space between her legs, above which was nestled the flowerlike petals of her vaginal lips, left hairless to emphasize even more the femininity she exuded.
The makeup she had on now was a revelation. Her cheekbones became more pronounced with darker highlights. Her brown eyes seemed to be lit, surrounded by black eyeshadow and mascara. Her lips were stained with a rose color and made even curvier as if announcing a burning desire to be kissed or to close around the object of her desire -- the one those lips had closed around already so many times after falling to her knees.
Her dark brown hair, normally hanging straight down, had been curled into waves that framed her face and fell just below her shoulders. The long, long wait as I anticipated her entrance was worth every second.
I stood up as she parted the curtains and came through. There was something else standing up almost immediately at the sight I had before my eyes. She tilted her head down and looked up across the room at me with a demure yet mischievous smile.
