As you read, please note: this is chapter three. If you haven't read the previous two, I suggest you do so. If you haven't and don't, take heart. This is the stroker part of the story. Enjoy, and let me know just how much via your ratings and comments. Thank you for following so far.
*****
Maddie's fingers traced smoothly over the finished wood. The tips of her freshly finished nails grazed the grain but there was no hint of roughness as she contemplated just how they had come to this point.
Why couldn't the stuff inside just be laid out? He really did like to tease her, draw out the drama. It was often like that: hidden or disguised gifts, a hug that appeared out of nowhere, a surprise trip to the Okanagan last summer with only time to pack, the compliment or expression of affection or words of encouragement that was just what she needed right at that time but no sooner. He knew her so well.
She was fully aware of the intent of the contents of the large wooden box; it represented so much to her, especially. He was embracing her, celebrating them as a couple and encouraging who she was becoming. He knew her secrets and delighted in them with her. Maybe he wasn't the hottest guy on earth, but she was drawn to him like no other. Even as she ran her hand to the lid of the box, she felt the delicious contrast of fire and fluid between her legs and spreading through the rest of her body.
She felt like a mystical treasure hunter, expecting the glow of some ancient amulet to emanate from inside the box and bathe her as she opened the lid. And bathe her it did, on a very sensual level. The anticipation was overcoming her and she squeezed her thighs, attempting to, at the same time sate and abate the overwhelming desire she was feeling. After all, she understood, this would not be a short event.
He sat beside her on the bed, tie removed, shirt unbuttoned, and cuff links showing from the sleeve of his jacket. God, he looks so good; he always did. She picked up on this over time. He ensured he respected whatever situation he was to be in with how he presented himself - dress for the occasion. She came to hold disdain for the kind of men who showed up to weddings in their jeans. She sought to look her best for him at all times. But, DAMN! For so long, all she got in return was, "you look pretty". No passion, no apparent longing, just "you look pretty". She knew now though that it was a well-constructed façade. He did what he had to do, and Maddie loved him all the more for it.
As she brought the hinged lid up, basking in the invisible sensual glow, she was suddenly overcome with a deep exasperation that took her breath away.
"FUCK! You're such a tease!" she exclaimed with a slap to his arm. He felt his own stirring as she playfully struck him.
Everything inside was wrapped! No bows. No ribbons. Just elegant gold foil wrap obscuring the treasures awaiting her. It didn't escape her that each of the packages, including the larger one at the back, was numbered.
"Yes, I am. But no more than you've been, little tramp," he winked.
"I have a feeling that by the time I have gone through this box, I'll be more of a tramp than you bargained for," she teased back.
"Counting on it, toots".
She contentedly sighed, "Oh daddy, I want to be everything for you."
*
Maddie and her mom had a lot of talks before she passed away. Her mom tried to offer advice, talked of her regrets, praised Maddie's father AND Steve and urged Maddie to be very careful in who she selected as a mate.
"I was lucky to have two good men for husbands. I know you've heard us, Maddie. I've been really bitchy with Steve sometimes, but it wasn't really his fault. I don't know what happened to my libido and I shouldn't have taken it out on him. When you're married, it is both of your responsibilities to keep each other satisfied. Does that make sense?"
It made a lot more sense than Maddie was willing to admit to her mom. But Maddie wanted to peel back the layers.
"A little bit, I guess. But what do you mean exactly?" Maddie asked.
Maddie's mom was suddenly flustered. She hadn't expected to delve deeper. But she knew she opened herself up and she had little time to impart wisdom.
"Dear, it's kind of complicated but only because you have a lot of pressure to be a strong, independent woman. What I want you to find is a man who is willing to give himself fully to you, but you must do the same for him. Forget about this garbage you may have heard about not being your husband's property. You're his and he's yours.
"When Steve and I first started out, we spent a lot of time in bed together, having sex. It didn't make problems go away but it sure did help us to be together on them. And you know what? I know I was a lot happier back then. Maybe there's something in that stuff..."
"What stuff, mom?"
"Uh, never mind. What I really want to say is, don't be afraid of doing different things. I really regret becoming such a prude. There is nothing wrong with almost anything you want to do, as long as you both agree. Even if you disagree, try it at least once. And, this is important: don't be just not afraid. Seek your pleasure.
"But NOT until you're married, young lady!"
They both laughed and hugged.
*
"Now sweetheart, don't get ahead of yourself. Those packages are numbered for a reason."
Sweetheart. Tramp. She loved the schizophrenic way he perceived her. And she was determined to be his sweet, loving, horny little slut.
"Oops, now I'm doing it," she giggled to herself.
She picked up the long slender packaged marked with a "1".
"That's my good girl. School finally paid off."
Another slap.
The foil wrap wouldn't rip, so she opened it at the tape. Inside was a jewelry box and she wondered just what sort of jewelry went along with an occasion such as this. She lightly gasped at the black velvet choker trimmed with rhinestones.
She took it out, limp in her fingers, and brought it around her neck. She was not surprised that it fit perfectly.
"Come here, precious."
They stood in front of the dresser mirror, him behind her with his hands on her hips. The choker was a perfect complement to the black dress she was wearing. She was caught not completely unaware by the thoughts that entered her mind, but more surprisingly, escaped her lips.
"Oh my, Daddy. Is there a leash to go along with this?"
"Not yet, my naughty girl," he responded with a smack to her behind. "Where on earth do you get thoughts like that?"
*
A couple of weeks after her first encounter with The Slut, Maddie had an impulse to open that email and look again. She went to the computer, searched history again, this time finding nothing. She opened the email she had sent herself, and clicked on the link. Much of what she had seen before was burned in her memory, but she was transfixed again by this sexy woman in the video. After watching it again, she felt braver and clicked on a related link of what appeared to be the same woman in a different outfit. It was a black leather dress this time and prominently featured a leather choker with a long strap seeming to come off the back of it, draping over her breast.
She supposed that, to a woman like her that was "tit".
"Oh my word!" she blushed at the simultaneous brazenness of The Slut and herself.
