Wednesday, August 13, 2014


I don't want to use the word 'literal' improperly, of course, so the tension couldn't 'literally' be cut with a knife. But metaphorically it was that thick. That tense. 

For me.

For Emily.

Even for Matthew, to some degree, but not as much as my wife. Or me. 

But then he was a man. He was the dominant one. He was the alpha.

This isn't a verbatim transcript, it's from memory, it's not all of it, and some parts are still a blur. But it captures the essence with my writing flair.

I'd met him twice before, so I shouldn't have been too nervous, especially since the second time was as he was picking up my wife. For a date.

But this was different.

Even with the activities of the last time, this was different. We were all testing. We were all interviewing. We were all feeling one another's goals and ambitions. Our hopes. Our fantasies.

He arrived before we did, so the hostess told us when we arrived. "You're meeting a gentleman," she asked. 

"Don't know how gentle," I thought, "but certainly a man.

So he was waiting. 

The predator waiting for the prey. The willing prey.

He stood when we approached the table, looked carefully at Emily. She was wearing a new dress I picked out from Urban Outfitters, a pink open back skater dress, that he obviously approved of. Why wouldn't he? It showed off her long, wonderful legs, her skin.

"Emily," he smiled, hugged her. My eyes were drawn to his hand on her back, on the bare skin of her lower back, and I felt the familiar flutter of jealousy mixed with excitement, that familiar feeling so ever present inside me. His strong hand touched my wife. His masculine fingers warmed her skin, deeper. After several moments he released her, held his hand out to me, the hand that had just touched my wife.. "Nice to see you again," he said looking me straight in the eye.

"Hello Matthew," I said, took his hand, looked down as I shook it, aware instantly of the submissive gesture, the deference. It was unconscious, natural.

He kept my hand in his, shook again. "I'm glad you came," he said to both of us, though emphasizing with his firm grip he was talking especially to me. "We needed to talk." A comment, not a question. To both of us. To me.

"Yes," I said still unable to look back at his face, so aware he'd gone out on a date with Emily, so aware he'd been with her, intimately, so aware he wanted more.

"We all needed to talk," he said.

I finally looked up at him, swallowed. "I know," I said.

He took the lead, sat us down at the square table by pulling out a chair for Emily, pointing for me to sit across from him, placing her between us, physically, where she already was, mentally.

He took the lead, ordered a bottle of wine.

He took the lead, steered the conversation, directed it to inconsequential things until our wine arrived. Established a level of comfort, trust. 

It was obvious, Emily's attraction to him, to his strong presence, his masculine looks, his dominant personality, his aura of authority and confidence.

Nervous as he must have been, he projected unshakable confidence, the ability to take charge of a situation. I could see him in high school or college, quarterback of a football team, the natural leader of men. I could see him in business, commanding a room. I could see him here, with us, unquestionably confident, unquestionably assertive, not betraying the nerves that were obvious on Emily and me. From the moment we sat down we both looked to him to lead and he did with an easy manner.

"So," he looked at me, the subtle change in his tone directing the conversation immediately from the mundane to the serious. I bit my lip, looked down.

"Shall we talk," he asked but didn't wait for a response. "Tell me, what's your ideal situation, what is it you're looking for?"

I looked up, he was looking at me, Emily too, the question was directed to me.

"I...I don't know," I half mumbled eyes down.

"You know," he said with a subtle disapproving frown. "And it's important to be honest. To your wife. To me. To yourself. This," he motioned to the three of us,"is...risky...we all need to be honest or else someone, all of us, are going to get hurt. I don't want that, neither of you want that."

"I...I know," I said.

"I respect that you're a married couple," he said and sounded genuine, even though he had violated what most husbands would consider a sacred trust. "So what are you looking for? Your wife to have a fling? What turns you on? If she has sex with random guys?"

I looked up at him, eyes narrow, remembering something she said, understanding it. "She's not a slut," I said defending her, for the first time since we sat acting confident.

"No, no she's not," he said. "Do you want her to be? I'm simply asking; some men do, some men fantasize about that. You've seen the porn," he said, "so I'm asking, is that what you want? Is that what turns you on? Is that your ideal?"

"No," I said, "not...not that."

"I'm asking what you want," he said simply, "for her, for the two of you. What do you fantasize about, what most turns you on? Watching her have sex?"

"I never have," I said.

"But she has, right? Had sex with men since you've been with her?"

I nodded. "Twice," I said looking down.

"Twice," he asked in a disbelieving tone.

I looked at Emily who shook her head every so slightly. Evan. Jeff. I thought for a moment, blushed, understood. Matthew. "No...three times."

"Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is pattern," he said. "The first two were wrong?"

"No, they were..." I saw the look on his face, he was drawing it out. "Answer the easy question, do you fantasize about watching her have sex or is there more?"

Emily reached over, touched my hand under the table. "Both, more," I said.

"So then...what do you want," he asked again. "Be honest."

"What do I want? My ideal situation?" He nodded. "A...a it what you want...lover...boyfriend...something cruder...but a relationship with a...a strong man."

"You've never seen her with a man?"

I shook my head.

"You fantasize about it," he asked, "many do."

"Yes," I lowered my eyes.

"You fantasize about a man inside her, having sex with her, finishing inside her?" I squirmed in my seat, part of me thankful he didn't use the word. "How does that make you feel? What do you feel thinking of her with a man? What did you feel when I took her out? Submissive?"

I felt like I'd been slapped, physically recoiled. I felt Emily's hand squeeze mine. "Yes," I whispered.

"You said a strong man," he said when I sat up straight. "That's the heart of it, right? Not just a man, but a strong man, a dominant man...I mean...if she's going to date."

"I suppose it is."

"Why? I ask based on my own experiences. I'm not interested in competing with a woman's husband, to fight out who is in charge."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," I said in carefully measured words.

"No, I don't think I do either," he said. "I was friends with a couple who thought they wanted one thing, but perhaps didn't. Him especially. He said he wanted one thing, but he saw me as a challenge. I didn't want that, I don't want that. If my date with Emily made you feel like you needed to protect her, to assert yourself, to be in charge of this situation...I'm not the man for her...or you. I...that's not what I want.

"That's not how I felt," I said.

"He felt his masculinity challenged, did you? Do you? He didn't think he would, but he got possessive, he felt protective, started to be aggressive."

Emily squeezed my hand again, I almost laughed but didn't. "No. Quite the opposite," I said, "I didn't feel that way at all. I...I felt..."

"Submissive," he said again. "How else did you feel when she went out...with As a husband?"

Emily squeezed again, looked at me. I thought about the word that immediately came to mind, finally said it. "Emasculated."

"Is that a bad feeling," he asked, "or something you look for."

"Bad...but good. I don't know how to explain, I'm sorry, I'm nervous."

"That's okay," he said.

I shook my head. " asked about ideal...I guess that's idea."

"It's a turn on? Feeling emasculated by a man?"

"Yes," I said.

"Any other feelings," he asked. Emily looked at me, him, back at me. "Submissive, emasculated, and...anything else"

I looked at Emily, she nodded. "Effeminate," I said almost in a whisper. "I..."

"The point," he interrupted me, "is that I'm the opposite. Dating a married woman makes me feel strong. Masculine. Dominant. I don't want to compete with a woman's husband. I learned that turns what is erotic to me to the opposite."

"Why...why a married woman, then?"

"Two reasons. First, honestly? Because I'm bad at relationships. I'm bad at sharing my feelings. I'm bad at emotional intimacy. I'm bad at the day to day interactions with a my ex-wife would be the first to attest. I had an emotionally distant mother, I don't blame her, that's just what it was. Connecting with a woman emotionally is...difficult for me. Emily tells me you don't struggle with that."

"No," I half laughed. 

He leaned forward, filled our wine glasses. Again, his presence, his confidence were palpable. "The second reason is, well, if you find submission erotic, I find dominance erotic. In my ideal situation, a woman's adoration...her strongly appealing and a woman seeking from me what she doesn't As is her husbands."

"So what do you want, then," I asked.

"A woman who wants a strong man...a couple that wants a strong man. Emily turns me on, I'm sure you get that, she's a beautiful woman, but it turns me on even more that she's married, that she's looking for something she doesn't get from her husband. It turned me on picking her up at your house. It's so much more than sex with a beautiful woman, but you get that, don't you?"

I nodded, I did. The opposite side of the coin.

Emily, what do you want," he turned to her, "you're in the middle here...literally." My wife looked down, blushed. "You love your husband?"

"Very much."

"Yet something's missing?" She nodded. "What?"

"I...I feel so different with a man than...than with..."

"He gets it, I suspect," Matthew said.

"I do," I said. "Than with me, she means."


"I have a few ground rules," he said at one point. "You may, too, of course. If this is a thing. If it's something we want to do...all of us.

We looked at him, waited.

"As ironic as this sounds, I expect monogamy. I don't share well. I don't think that's an issue with either of you, but it needs to be understood."

"That...that's what we want, too," I answered when Emily didn't, but she nodded.

"If this is a thing, if this is what we all want, this is the thing. We need to be tested. All of us."

"We discussed that," Emily said to him. 

He was watching me, saw my blush. "I don't like condoms more than any man, I presume that's not a problem. But we need to be tested.

"She's on the pill," I said, dodging the question. 

"A ground rule important to both of us," Emily said.

"All of us," Matthew answered, "believe me." He looked at me. "You didn't answer my question," he said. "is that a problem?"

I blushed. A problem? Fuck, how often I wanted it, what he demanded, how often I wanted it. "No," I whispered.


It was a 'where do we go from here' moment, we all sensed it, he seized it. "I'm taking her on a date again," he said after we sat in silence for several minutes. "Saturday." He didn't ask if we had plans, he just announced his own. "I'll pick her up, seven or so."

He was dominant, assertive, masculine, in control.

Maybe I thought there would be a ceremony-here, he's her boyfriend.

Maybe I thought we'd sign an agreement-the thing is a thing.

But we didn't.

She has a date, Saturday. No less, no more.

Yet so much more.

When we got home we didn't make it past the living room before I was between her legs licking her, tasting her. She was soaked, totally and completely soaked.

And but for the cage, I would have been hard.

"You get it," she asked me at one point.

"What," I asked.

"The attraction to a man, to him?"

I looked up, my face covered with her juices. "I get it, you're attracted to him," I said, not unkindly.

She pulled my face to her wet lips, pulled my tongue to her clit, shook for a minute, pushed me back. "Do YOU get it?" I looked at her, puzzled. "I saw the way you looked at him, Sara," she said, "I saw it. You're drawn to him as much as I a woman."

"Em," I started to say, but before I finished, her foot snaked it's way between my legs, rubbed my caged clit through my trousers, through my panties.

"Like a woman, Sara."

"Em, I..."

"I want to tell him. After Saturday."

"Tell him what," I said, but I knew.

"Everything," she said. "Everything.

"Why," I said, suddenly afraid.

"Because he should know. Because you want him to know."

"Em, what if he...I mean...he might..."

"What," she smiled a guilty smile, "suddenly not want to fuck me, suddenly not want to do this? Sara, don't you get it? He's afraid of you challenging him, of you reacting by trying to become more masculine, more dominant, that's what his fear is. Our fear is losing one another, his fear is fighting you. He'll be relieved, not afraid."

"I don't know, Em...I..."

"He's afraid you'll try to be a man, love, that's what he wants, to be the man. Some husbands might have trouble with that, but not you...being the man is the last thing you want to do, right?"

True, so true, so true.

"And it's honesty," she said. "That's important. And you want him to know, be honest with yourself."

"Yes," I admitted.

"Lick me," she said, "please...lick me..."

I did. Over and over and over.


I think Saturday decides it...that was the unspoken resolution. How do we all react to Saturday.


  1. Oh my....... Oh my........... Sounds like quite an encounter........
    How do you feel about Emily telling Matthew on their date Saturday everything about you, about how much of a sissy you are, how feminine you are, how wonderfully beautiful inside and out you are......? Thanks so very much for sharing my dear

  2. Well! Now things are becoming clearer. Saturday Emily will admit she wants Mathew ri accept her and you as his submissive. She will then kneel and address him as Master. He will then turn to you and demand that you kneel and accept him as your Master. The question is what will be your answer?

  3. She gets it. She sees you drawn to him, just like any woman is drawn to a man who is masculine and confident.

    I think she wants you to be yourself and be a woman with both of them. Even while she stays married to you and in love with you. Married to her best girlfriend and enjoying the attraction and the sex with a man.

    Much love and xoxoxo,


  4. Hello Sara

    I haven't commented before but I recently found your blog (from Leeanne's blogroll) and went back through your posts about Emily to better understand the interactions with Matthew. This meeting obviously went very well, and I think it would be perfectly reasonable for Emily to tell him on Saturday that there was one more thing you were too nervous to say at your meeting ... and that is that the term submissive does not completely describe the nature of your relationship to Emily, nor to him. She can then "introduce" him to Sara as your feminine persona, who yes, is submissive to Emily, and (assuming you approve all this) open to being submissive to Matthew, should he wish to accept that service.

    Good luck ... you are all on a wild ride but I think you've enough to gain from full disclosure that the risk of exposing yourself so honestly is justified.

  5. Dear Sara, sweet sweet Sara, wonderful tender lamb that delivers himself willingly to the claws of a big bad wolf ,
    Now the burning question you have to ask yourself: are you truly happy, totally happy till deep in your heart?
    Are you glad to have with Emily just an emotional intimacy? Are you satisfied even if you know she wont give you any physical pleasure? Are you cheerful even if forced to share Emily's love with Matthew? Are you perfectly at ease thinking that you are going to show him your feminine side?
    You normally do not tell us your feelings, what you really want, your goals in life, the things that give value to your life, but if the answer to all of the above question is 'YES', then believe me, all the other things in the world are of no importance for you.
    Best wishes Sara, and good luck with all my heart

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