We were just about to head out for the fancy dinner party at my work. I’d already approved of Laurel’s little black dress, hem coming just below the tops of her thigh-highs. But just before we headed to the door, I snapped his fingers as if I’d forgotten something. I had not forgotten.
“One more thing,” I said. “On the bed.”
For the second sentence I used what Laurel called “that voice”. The one that made her shiver, that made her wet; that made her obey.
She didn’t ask questions, but walked hurriedly back down the apartment hall to the bedroom and the bed, and climbed on, looking a question to me as I walked in after her.
“Downward” I said, and, with only a second of hesitation she assumed the position she knew I meant. Head down on the bed, hands reached forward, knees together, ass raised. If I wanted to take her like that, right now, before we left, we’d be late, or might never get there. But that wasn’t what I wanted.
I stood by the foot of the bed and lifted her dress, pulling it all the way to, but not over her head, blocking her vision. I slipped my fingers under the lace of her panties and drew them down my legs.
“You won’t wear these tonight.”
She shivered, but lifted her knees, then feet to let me get them all the way off. Then I left the bed for a moment, and crossed the bedroom to the bureau and opened one of the drawers. I wasn’t quiet about any of it, because her hearing the preparation was an intentional part of it.
Her breathing was already ragged when I returned to the bed. She jumped a little, and moaned as I delved a finger between her legs, gathering her wetness. Then, with my fingers, I slowly, deliberately spread the cheeks of my ass apart, telegraphing everything, giving her the time to guess correctly what I was about to do. Even so, she jerked and moaned at the the cool smooth touch of the metal plug right at her backdoor.
“You’ll wear this instead. All night,” and I pushed the plug, lubricated with her own arousal, into her ass.
I knew that for her, as well as for me, the evening ahead took an entirely different dimension. Once the plug was firmly seated, I carefully pulled her dress back into place, and took my beautiful wife’s hand as she gingerly climbed off the bed. I reveled in the conflicting focus in her eyes. The world outside, and the presence, the weight shifting inside her as she moved. There would be sitting, standing, talking, dancing at the party, in the company of my co-workers and friends. I saw the shiver pass through her body, and my own pride in and lust for her only grew, as it ever does.