So, he texted me to first congratulate Emily and me on our race and to congratulate me on a PR (Emily did not PR as her time is faster than mine and she so lovingly paced me the second half of the course.
He is, of course, totally in favor of Emily and me doing things together as a couple (except that one thing, that's his thing only now). He's healthy himself and encouraging about diet and exercise. Some, perhaps, is for selfish reasons-Emily's very attractive, in-shape body of the type he likes. Some, though, for encouraging Emily and I to do things as a couple. And running, in particular (according to Emily last week), because he thinks it's a good activity for a guy like me (as opposed to lifting anything more than moderate weights). "Keeps him trim," or something like that.
Later, he asked about my progress on picking a costume for Emily. And that's when things got a bit warm and tight. Like I was blushing and my once again caged penis was swelling.
When asked on my progress, I told him I'd looked at some things, considered a few things, but hadn't come to a decision yet.
"It's coming up, make a decision by Friday," he said, in that way he commands.
"I will," I promised. "What's the party like, I'm not sure how sexy to go."
"Sexy? Your instruction was slutty," he responded immediately.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, "sexy, slutty; I appreciate how you want her dressed."
"I don't think you do. Sexy is beautiful, slutty is hot. Sexy is one item of revealing clothing, slutty is an entire outfit."
"Sexy is a peak of lingerie, slutty is an entire lingerie set."
"Sexy says I want to meet a nice guy, slutty says I want to get fucked. There's a difference between Sexy Halloween and Slutty Halloween..."
And then I got the bubble response, the long text coming response.
"Sexy Halloween is for women who want to be risqué. Sexy Halloween is for women who want to be safely adventurous. Sexy Halloween sends the message, to the other people at a party, that a woman feels frisky and may light a few candles for her husband before switching things up and being on top. Sexy Halloween is for good girls who just want to pretend to be bad. That's Sexy Halloween. Sexy Halloween is what a good, beta provider husband looks forward to. It's his wife climbing on top of him, thrust, thrust, thrust, ugggghhhhhh and asking her in that soft, nervous voice, 'wwwwwas it good for you when he knows it wasn't.' Sexy Halloween is a woman hoping the sexy costume and the candles make a difference and she doesn't have another night of unsatisfying sex. Sexy Halloween is for good girls. That's NOT what I instructed, is it?"
I swallowed, felt myself tighten in the cage. "No."
"Sexy Halloween is what I'd allow you to have if I was otherwise engaged that night. Minus the thrusting, of course."
"But I told you Slutty Halloween. Slutty Halloween is a woman who needs a man's attention. Slutty Halloween is for women who want to be taken to places they're afraid to admit exist. Slutty Halloween sends the message, to other people at a party, that a woman wants a man to fuck the ever loving shit out of her, to make her cum like she never has before. Slutty Halloween is a woman who want a man to take control. Slutty Halloween if for a woman who wants a man to do things she'd never dream of asking her husband to do. Slutty Halloween is for bad girls. Girls who fuck, girls who beg a man for his cock. Girls who swallow That's what I instructed you. Slutty Halloween."
I responded the only way I could. "Fuck."
"That's right, that's what you're looking for, slutty, NOT sexy. I want to fuck, not I want to make love. I'm his whore, not I'm his wife."
"But it's a party. And other people."
"It's an adult party...not that kind, before you ask...but she won't be the only one there dressed like that, sending the message that she's someone's whore that night. I expect her dressed so every single person knows what she's doing that night, so every single person assumes, when she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, that's she's not going to pee, but to get on her hands and knees and suck cock!
I wasn't sure what to say, just sat, let my mind run.
"Things getting 'tight'? Tell the truth."
"Sexy is wondering if a woman's husband is going get 'get luck' later that night (hint, not usually), slutty is wondering if a woman's boyfriend is going to fuck her in the club's bathroom, in the alley, or in the car."
"Tighter still? Tell the truth."
"Yes, but..." I paused, he didn't.
"Here, let me give you a visual. This is Sexy Halloween..." He texted me a picture:
"Yes, very," I typed.
"The kind of thing a beta husband would die for, right?"
"He's spend all night hoping against hope she'd do that special thing he begs for, you know, take him in her mouth just for a few seconds, cause that's all he gets (no you can't in my mouth, dear, that's gross). That's Sexy Halloween. Get it?"
"Yes," I responded.
"Well this is Slutty Halloween...the kind of thing a real man demands..." He texted a second picture:
...that's what your going for. Slutty, so there's no question in anyone's mind...Emily's, your's, everyone at the party, there's no question that she's my whore. And that the only thing she wants that night is my cock."
"Fuck," I responded again, the only response.
"Oh I will, trust me, I will. Several times. So keep shopping and make a decision. Find Slutty Halloween."
Ten minutes later, one last text. "And don't forget, because I won't, Emily's maid is on duty that night."
"All night. To help her get ready, to meet her boyfriend, and...I love this part, it's so naughty, so beta...to clean up later."
Tight. It was tight the rest of the afternoon.