Re: In praise of Emily

I meet up with my master furniture maker at Emily’s house 3pm sharp. Her appointments often finish early on a Wednesday and the Porsche is on the drive. So is James’s car. I wonder how long he was up last night, waiting whilst Mags and CC fucked? My guess is that the little weasel called in sick today. He was suffering a migraine or something. I pay Paul his fee and a sizeable tip as the chair is perfect. It is fitted out along the back with a leather padded ridge for Emily to rest against. The wood is polished to perfection and the kneeling pad added. It is easy to unhook this and store it separately if needs be, if Emily and James are entertaining less liberal friends shall we say!

My girl comes out and literally strokes the chair all over. She is very enthusiastic. It is indeed a lovely crafted item. We take it into the kitchen and place it next to the breakfast bar. It could indeed just seem like a high stool there. It is the right height. Paul shakes our hands and as he is about to slip away James comes down still groggy from sleep. He is in a satin bathrobe, but looks unkempt.

‘Paul…this is my husband James’.
James nods. Paul glances in my direction and I smile quietly. The master builder is not a fool.

When Paul has left Emily says brightly,’ shall we try it out James…you do like it don’t you.’
Quickly she positions herself up on the seat and she hitches up the full skirt of her chambray dress. You have to picture a country and western singer or some such, my girl is in relaxed and folksy mode. There, against the backdrop of baby blue linen is my girl’s bare sex, her curly hair pert and fresh and her red nails, prying downwards and pulling her sex lips open. There it is…the peachy moist interior that Duncan has been driving into all night. I half expect to see his jizz trickling out but Emily has showered. She has been to work today.

‘Please guys, it was the wee small hour when I got back. Mags partied at a club with CC after the meal.’

Its so annoying when he starts to whine. I hate that. It makes him look old, and ugly and stupid and ungrateful.

I grab his ear and with just a little twist bring his mouth to bear. James drops onto the kneeler and there it is, the perfect tableaux- mistress pussy bared for supplicant to lick.

His first licks are hesitant. The little shit is resisting because he is tired.
‘Lick her cunt man or you stay in the spiky cage for a month’

I watch. He reverently sucks her clitty into his mouth and he starts to suckle on it. That’s better. He is soon making those sweet little sucking noises. Its the sort of noise I guess you would hear in a pig sty when all the piglets are chowing down. Emily likes the noise of it, the dirty, disgusting sound of her husband submitting to what she rules him with.

She holds her mouth up to me and we kiss.

‘Thankyou darling…it is utterly perfect!’

I aren’t in the mood for shit face James to try and slide out of this. He might try and have Em finish early by working her button. Well, so be it. If he brings her off too soon and she wants a break, then I’ll have him kneeling there still. I handcuff his wrists to the chair legs. There, he is locked in place.

Nice…the sex scents have got him now. She has won…again. He will contentedly nuzzle and lick now, grateful for whatever she allows. She strokes his hair, sensing that their bond is re-established. He is doing what he needs now, she is letting him.

‘How were things with Duncan afterwards?’
‘God, what did you say to him…he wanted it all night long. He was getting really masculine!’
I chuckle. It doesn’t surprise me. I had cut the man a piece of territory. I had signalled what worked in my terms.

‘James please! Lick nicely!’ she cuffs him playfully about the ear.

‘He said that he would send me the job description…oh…the job description for CC to look at.’
‘I really hope things go that road babes…I haven’t heard from Mags or CC, but I suspect that last night was a success. We’d have heard by now if there were tears before bedtime.’

Emily and I kiss. James is looking up like a nice little supplicant. I push open her dress and start to play with her nipples. They are bloody hard. I love her tits with a stalk on top.

‘I’m going to fuck you…you are so fucking hot’ I mouth.
She nods and kisses me back.
‘What about James?’
‘Oh…he can remain at prayer don’t you think?’
‘Alright.’

Emily alights from the chair, swinging a shapely leg over the head of her husband. We stroll to the stairs. James seems fascinated by the seat of the chair, and then I realise what it is. He is concentrating on a little smear of juice. My guess is that once we have retired he will lap it up. Could he follow us, could he cut up rough? Well no, waltzing about the place holding a chair would be crazy. If he damages it then I will damage him and he knows it.