Thursday, April 19, 2012
Blindfolded, you cannot see him enter the room, only hear him, smell him, sense him.
He doesn't speak, at first doesn't approach you, doesn't acknowledge you.
It was difficult enough, the decision to involve a man in your relationship, to surrender, to accept your mutual desires, hers to be with a man, yours to be a cuckold.
But neither of you anticipated what he wanted, not just to be with her, which he did, often, but more, he wanted you, too.
Finally, after minutes that seem like hours, after he poured himself a drink, Scotch, a man's drink, finally, he walks to you, takes your hair in his hand, leans down, whispers in your ear.
"Tonight, you're mine, sissy, all mine."