A Condo with Two Views (3 page)

Her eyes opened wide. Not so much from the
prospect of having to give a random guy a blowjob, but because of
who I selected. I could read her mind. Sucking off the caretaker of
our condo was insanely humiliating. He lived in our building! She’d
see him all the time.

“Yes Master. I understand.”

We slept in late the next morning, glad
that it was Saturday which meant there was still a lot of weekend
ahead of us. Most of the day was spent furniture shopping as we
still hadn’t furnished the entire condo. We needed a few odds and
ends. Chloe has great taste, and led the charge with me adding a
second opinion when needed. That evening we watched a movie,
especially since we had been out so late the night
before.

Strangely, at midnight Chloe put on a sexy
skirt, high heels, and fresh lipstick which she very intentionally
smeared a little. She disheveled her hair, and with a wink, told me
she was going down to our lobby to see if we had any
mail.

“Oh I get it,” I chuckled, “you’re going to
see if Mike is down there.”

“Yeah,” she answered, “but nothing will
happen tonight. I’m just going to set the trap.”

The door closed behind her, and instantly
my cock was getting fat and hard. Fuck! Just knowing Chloe was
going down there hoping to find him cleaning the grout again turned
me on. My wife was putting herself out there, risking her pride,
for the sake of her husband and Master. What was she going to say
to him? I had no idea, but it turned me on regardless.

Five or six minutes later she returned. She
didn’t say a word. I didn’t ask. I assume by the smile on her face
it went well. We made love that night, and it was as great as
ever.

Three days after that, when we came home
with groceries one evening, we stumbled across Mike in the front
lobby. He was discussing a move-in date with some new tenants who
were renting one of the units. He looked the part. He actually wore
one of those full body uniforms that you see auto mechanics wear.
The whole blue collar maintenance man aspect made it even more
humbling for Chloe. She worked in a law office and would be sucking
the cock of a man who repaired toilets for a living.

The two of them sneaked a mischievous
glance at each other. I noticed it. I wanted to smile, but knew I
had to keep my cool and pretend to be oblivious. Chloe must have
been working him behind my back, which is exactly what she should
be doing!

Nine days later it happened. We were having
dinner when Chloe nonchalantly mentioned that she needed one hour
to complete her assignment.

“Tonight?” I asked.

“If you allow it, yes – I believe it will
happen tonight, Master. It is all but arranged.”

I gave her approval to proceed. I
did
want it to happen. The fact
that she was putting herself out there for me, in this manner, made
me love her more. This was my domination of her pushed to another
level. Sucking my cock was one thing. Sucking the cock of another
man, as instructed by me, was more extreme, and a testament to her
true submission.

That night I felt like a million dollars
when I fucked my wife. We both came twice. I held her in my arms
and kissed her temple. She had been a very obedient submissive. All
the while I fucked her, I couldn’t help but think that – deep in
her tummy – resided a big helping of the caretaker’s
cum.

Chloe’s View:

I almost jumped for joy when Sarah emailed
me and then phoned me about her party. I was excited for her, of
course, but to be honest I was thrilled that Jack and I would be
going to our first party as husband and wife. I’m sure it sounds
silly, but I couldn’t wait to introduce him to people as my
‘husband’. So much so, I was hoping Sarah and her boyfriend would
have lots of their work friends there, people we didn’t know, just
so I could introduce him accordingly. In my mind I rehearsed:
‘
This is my
husband Jack’. ‘Oh yes, the man over there in the blue shirt,
that’s my husband Jack’. ‘Excuse me a moment please, it seems my
husband Jack needs me.’
I giggled at my silliness.

Jack and I enjoy drinking wine and mixed
drinks. I guess you could say that we are social drinkers. We are
pretty compatible that way. A good number of our friends still
smoke weed, but Jack and I are doing less of that. Recently, Jack
has been exploring various bourbons, which are too strong tasting
for me. We both have a real appreciation for great wine, and my
husband is becoming quite knowledgeable. Of course, I always let
him lead the way when it comes to selecting a bottle. Sometimes
he’ll pre-select a few bottles and lets me pick from among them. I
really don’t have a clue, and he is just being kind, but I find it
sweet. By the same token, I am more than happy to have Jack stay
out of my kitchen. And I know he is more than happy to do just
that.

As our University years fade away, I find
we are learning to appreciate the finer things in life, and we make
no apologies for being able to afford just that. Jack and I are
proud of our accomplishments, so far, and I think we make a good
team. We still like to get drunk and go skinny dipping with our
close friends when we’re at a lake house, but now, we also make a
good martini and a whiskey sour when serving cocktails in our
condo.

The week seemed to fly by, and when Friday
evening arrived, off we went with a bottle of Barolo, Canadian ice
wine and a small flower arrangement for the hostess. I’ve been
favoring dresses lately and decided on a short black Michael Kors
sleeveless shift dress with a low cut bodice. It seemed to skim my
curves nicely, and as an added little turn-on for my husband, I
chose a matching bra and thong made of thin grey silk. Silver black
trimmed stilettos completed the outfit. I felt great beside my tall
husband. Yeah, we did look good together. Jack had printed off
Mapquest directions, and not only did he drive there, but we agreed
in advance he’d drive home. My college girlfriends would be there,
so this was my night to drink, and he would be sober to drive us
home.

I smiled all night when people told me how
amazing our wedding had been, and how lucky I am to be with someone
who treats me as well as Jack does. Every time someone said that, I
wanted to giggle. I imagined saying
: ‘oh yeah, well last week he twisted my
nipples so viciously they are STILL bruised.’
But of course, I kept my mouth shut. The
truth was that I loved our sessions as much as Jack did. My
masochistic nature is living the dream, as the expression
goes.

We danced, we laughed, we told old stories
that – even though they’d been told a dozen times – still made all
of us laugh. Some of my single girlfriends opened up about being
single. They too, wanted to find the love of their lives. The
recently broken-hearted complained about what jerks men were. There
were also people complaining about society being fucked up, and a
total lack of decent jobs. Basically, the usual banter you’d find
at the party, with ample drinks to accompany the fanfare. As the
evening progressed, I was feeling evermore grateful for the life
that I had been blessed with. For sure, I was a lucky
girl.

Jack was in the backyard having a cigar
with some of the guys. I looked out at him. I always loved his
sense of style; he was one of the fortunate men who could wear
anything and pull it off. He could look as comfortable in an Armani
suit as a T-shirt and baseball cap. He was down-to-earth and yet
sophisticated at the same time. He was rugged, but without looking
rough around the edges. Very handsome with boyish charm, and how
that man turned me on.

To everyone’s collective surprise our
friend Holly showed up at midnight. She was accompanied by a weird
looking dude. Clearly they were a misfit couple. Holly was
beautiful and lovely: it was simply her addiction to drugs that was
getting the best of her. We had all tried to intervene early on in
her addiction, especially me, but the more forceful I became, the
worse the situation became.

During high school, Holly had been my
closest friend. Both her parents were heavy alcoholics, and Holly
had spent as much time at my family’s home as her own. She was like
an adopted family member. In fact one year when we went to Hawaii
for family vacation, we brought her along. She had never been out
of California. Back then she was sweet, clever and funny. She wrote
poetry and loved reading. When I went off to my first year at
University, Holly started snorting cocaine. That morphed into
crystal meth and an assortment of other prescription drugs. At
first, I didn’t believe it when some of my friends started emailing
me with warnings that Holly was becoming an addict. Unfortunately,
they were right. Then we heard rumors that she was dabbling with
heroin.

Tonight at the party, she seemed pretty
good. She was somewhat jittery, and looked too thin – but
otherwise, okay. Holly never weighed more than 120 lbs, but now she
looked pounds less than that. Her hair was nicely done, and her
clothes looked new. She did not look as strung-out as the times I
had seen her before my wedding. When I got her alone, I asked about
the guy she brought to the party.

“
Oh, he’s just a friend,
he’s good to me,” Holly answered.
He’s ‘good to you?’
So in other words, he feeds your addiction in exchange for your
body?
I didn’t say a
word, instead keeping my thoughts to myself. I didn’t want to put
her on the defensive, not here. But deep down, I hated this. Never
in a million years would Holly be spending time with a guy like
this if he wasn’t providing her. No doubt, he was her
dealer.

“Ok, but please be careful,” was all I could
say in return.

Holly and the creep left early. In my gut I
suspected that she had held it together for the party, to show us
she was in a good place, but ten minutes after leaving us she’d be
cooking up something in a spoon, somewhere.

There was a mass exodus from the party around
1:45 am, and we left shortly thereafter. Why does it seem people
always leave parties in batches? We got in the car and started the
long drive home. It’s a bit eerie driving in the middle of the
night. City streets that always seem to be crowded are now
strangely empty and desolate. It’s almost surreal. As we usually do
after a party, we talked about this person and that person, sharing
observations.

Jack was in a playful mood and kidding
around, when suddenly, his tone of voice changed.
Fuck! I’m such a
slut.
Just hearing his
Dom voice made my pussy moisten and tingle. He wanted my feet up on
the dash, seat back, panties removed. I didn’t need to be told
twice. I managed to tilt my pelvis up and slide my thong down my
thighs and placed them in my purse. Instinctively, one foot was
placed on the glove box, with my other foot resting to the right of
the digital screen. I knew he would want my legs spread apart. My
high heels looked sexy up on the dashboard. Jack brought his right
hand over and shoved it between my legs, squeezing his whole hand
onto my pussy. With a firm voice he told me I was to masturbate
until orgasm, all the while keeping my legs spread, with my pelvis
tilted for his viewing pleasure. Legs wide apart, no thong, I felt
the car air blowing gently on my open pussy. It felt so good. Next
he instructed me to insert my middle finger and report to him on
how it felt and if it I was wet.

“
I’m a little wet Sir, and it is soft, warm
and slightly swollen,” I confessed.
Keep driving the car and in another minute
or so I’ll be dripping.
I didn’t add the additional comment, but it certainly ran
through my mind.

I could smell my sweet scent, and I was
admittedly embarrassed that Jack might be able to smell me too, all
the way over in the driver’s seat. He instructed me to masturbate
with one hand, while sucking on the fingertips of my other hand. I
knew where he was going with this. He told me each time our car
came to a complete stop I was to switch hands. Whenever I changed
hands, I was to spread my pussy juice all over my clit area. So I
took my right hand and brought some of my moisture up and around my
clit, around and around, putting just the right amount of pressure
on my needy nub. Jack glanced over as I sucked seductively on my
left middle finger, then my index finger. Looking ahead, I could
see the light turn yellow. We had to stop for our first red light.
Jack came to a full stop and turned his attention to the vagina
beside him. I switched hands and tasted myself on my middle finger,
licking and sucking the wetness. Sucking wildly, I switched to my
other finger for more flavor. I was thirsty, and I’d be feeding
myself my own pussy juice all the way home. Jack told me not to
cum, not until he granted me permission to do so. Jack was
torturing me, and loving it, without even touching my body. I
wanted to cum so badly,
oh please let
me come
, touching myself and sucking my own juice. I arched my
back and squirmed in my seat. I so needed relief. I feared I would
spontaneously come in my seat. Jack turned his attention back to
driving, looking in the rear view mirror.

Anytime a car got close to us, I cringed
with mortification. My high heels hiked up on the dash, my hand was
clearly buried between my legs. Luckily, passing cars would not be
able to see down inside the passenger seat to witness my open
pussy. However, with my legs spread and feet on the dash, there was
no way my passenger seat antics could be hidden from any passing
vehicle. Any driver passing by our car was certain to know I was
diddling my pussy like a bitch in heat.