The Dinner Guest

After meeting John, and immediately becoming his lover on my first-ever dressed meeting with another person, our relationship became a deeply satisfying, regular thing. I guess I became his “girlfriend” although some might see it more as his “wife”. We met at least twice a week at his house, with me fully dressed - well at the start of the evening at least - and doing everything a well brought up t-girlie should do to please her hubby.

At least once a month, sometimes twice, I was able to stay the night and enjoy the feeling of sleeping in his arms and waking to his rigid manhood pressing against my ass and seeking entry to my most secret place.

The opportunity to dress properly and to do so regularly was so wonderful that I spent the days and hours before our next meet in a state of pure excitement. I would rush to his house as soon as I could and let myself in so that I could be properly attired by the time he came in from running his own business. And John’s habit of buying me gorgeous new undies, shoes and smart grown up clothes made my life a constant high. And the sex was out of this world!

John was a forceful man, I had learned on our very first date, and I knew that when he wanted something there was no arguing with him. As far as he was concerned, and I was more than happy to agree with his view, I was his and what he wanted of me, or to do with me, was entirely his choice. I had become used to a stern look, or even a smacked bottom, on the rare occasions I had suggested I was less than enthusiastic to satisfy his needs.

One evening we were sitting cuddled up on the couch, his hand gently caressing my thigh and my hand enjoying the growing hardness as I stroked him slowly and sensuously. “I have told you about my good friend Rob, haven’t I darling” he said. Well I couldn’t remember him mentioning him but I was sure he must have done and simply nodded my affirmation.

“Rob is married to my wife’s oldest friend,” said John, one of the few times he mentioned his wife who had passed away three years before, “but he has a terrible marriage – she doesn’t treat him well and makes no effort to look nice for him – not like you my sweet.”