"Oh babe, we forgot to let Dwayne know about the hotel information; can you email him so he doesn't think we are bailing out on our plans?"
My husband of 5 years leaned in to kiss me goodbye after asking me to complete the tiny task.
"Yes, of course. Try not to work too hard today," I replied after the brief kiss and I was left feeling bubbly inside. Not from the small peck of a kiss, but from the fact that I would be emailing Dwayne about the hotel. Dwayne was the man my husband and I found online when we decided to try out cuckolding. My husband Terry and I had always had a very active sexual relationship in which we explored each other's fantasies and role-played different scenarios, and so transitioning into the world of actual cuckolding wasn't completely out of left field so to say.
However, it wasn't just the thought of having sex with another man that was causing a stir in me, it was the simple fact that for the first time since we had contacted Dwayne, I would be communicating with him on my own. All previous email exchanges had been done together with my husband. The reason this excited me was that I actually wanted to run some changes to the planned meetup past Dwayne without my husband knowing. So once Terry had pulled out of the driveway of our home, on his way to work, I raced to the computer in our study to email Dwayne.
I quickly typed out two messages to him, the first was simply the forwarded information about the hotel we booked for the end of the week for our meetup, but the second contained my personal email address and a note that let him know I wanted to talk just to him. My husband had created a separate email account for us when we started searching for a man to be our first bull, and so, therefore, he also had access to the conversation. Because I didn't want him to know what I was going to discuss with Dwayne I had to give him my personal email address and also deleted the second email so that my husband wouldn't find the trace of my secrecy.
With the emails sent out, I went about getting myself ready for my morning workout. I was fortunate to have a husband who earned enough with his work that I did not have to work. So to fill my spare time, I made sure to stay fit by running and doing yoga at home. I also volunteered at my local hospital and church, and other times got together with my friends for shopping and gossip. It was a yoga day, so I slipped on a pair of pink yoga pants and a matching sports bra before heading into my living room to load up one of my favorite guided videos. Just as I was about to get into my first pose, my phone chimed, and I saw I had an email from Dwayne. His message was simple, "got your email, what's up?" With my nerves causing my hands to quiver, I typed back a reply.
"I just wanted to let you know that I am really excited about our meet up Saturday, and also to let you know that I want you to take complete control. Being submissive is in my nature, my husband knows this but often can't truly take charge as I need. So, I figure that if I am going to be with another man, I want that man, you, to know that you are in charge; not me, and not my husband. I hope this makes sense.
Yours to control,
Julie."
It wasn't long after that Dwayne responded:
"Yes, I think I understand what it is you desire, but just to make sure I want you to confirm it. You want to submit to me, to be my slut for the night. You want me to take control of the night, to make the rules. You want me to be the all-powerful black bull, and for you to be my little white slut wife. You want to serve me."
Reading his return email caused my nerves to flutter even more in my stomach. He hit it exactly, and I replied quickly with a simple, "Yes." However, he returned with another message, "no, I want to know what you truly want. Detail to me exactly what it is you desire."
With my heart racing, and my body trembling with arousal, I typed another reply; this time more detailed and using the language he had used.
"Dwayne,
I want to submit to you. I want to be your slut, to be your little white slut wife. I want you to take control, to make the rules, to be the powerful black bull I need. I want to serve you and do as you command. I need you to dominate me, to make me submit to you.
Your slut,
Julie
Dwayne took a moment to reply and so I sat on my living room floor, yoga long forgotten about, staring at my phone as I waited. When the chirp and vibration finally came, my heart once again fluttered as I opened the message to read his response.
"My slut,
I can read what you want and need, now let me see you prove what you wrote is true. Here is my cell phone number, send me two photos of yourself standing in front of a full-length mirror. The first is to be as you are dressed now. The second picture should be just the same as the first, same pose and everything, but instead, you are to be naked. If you truly desire to serve me, I expect to have both pictures within the next ten minutes.
Your Dominant Bull"
His instructions were simple, and I understood why he wanted me to complete the task, but I had not yet sent him a naked picture of myself and felt a little uneasy doing so, as I would be unsure if he would share it with anyone. My desire to serve him though, vetoed my concerns, as I convinced myself that it was my chance to truly get a sexual partner to take control. I sat up quickly and raced to my bedroom. On my closet door was a full-length mirror, and I knew it would be just right. Using my phone to take the picture, I posed in front of my reflection and snapped the first of the two requested pictures. Satisfied with how it came out, I stripped down and took the same picture again, but now completely naked.
Remaining naked, I looked over the two images and was happy with how well I had done at replicating the pose in both. In my haste to take the pictures, I hadn't considered blocking my face out, but the thought of doing it again didn't seem right, so I decided to just send the images as they were and not worry about him being able to see my face. I reasoned that he would be seeing a lot more of me in the near future. It had only taken me five minutes to complete his task, and even quicker for him to respond. I liked knowing that I had his phone number now, it felt even more personal. His text message reply was as follows: