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How could a pair of panties possibly cost $300? How could a lingerie set cost well over $1,000? Your wife would look stunning in the items she'd picked out, but your bank account would scream at you for indulging in such insane purchases.
You wanted to be a good submissive cuckold, though. You wanted to support your wife's desire to look good for the man she'd met in Vegas, the man she would soon be visiting in New York City for a long weekend.
"Is something wrong?" your wife asked
You looked up from staring at the price tag of the thong in your hand. She'd given you an opening to raise your concern. "These are beautiful. Everything you've picked out is beautiful...but I feel like you might rack up a five figure bill and that's...I mean...that's just too much."
She smiled, pulled a bodysuit from the shelf, and approached before laying it across your arms, adding yet another item to the collection she'd already put together. Then your wife leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, likely leaving a hint of lipstick on your skin.
"He's paying for all of this," she said. "He wants me to feel fabulous and sexy, so he offered to cover an extravagant shopping trip, as he put it. I wasn't on board at first, to be honest. It felt weird to be spending so much of his money. He assured me, though, that I wasn't actually spending very much, at least for him."
There was no way to know how much money he made, but he'd certainly acted like money meant very little to him in Vegas. The restaurant bill was outrageous and his room must have cost a small fortune. He showed no signs of stress, though, and if he was more than happy for your wife to spend five figures on lingerie and clothes then he was absolutely a man making a great deal more than you.
The notion that your wife was being whisked away to New York City by a wealthy, handsome man brought about complicated feelings. Some part of you worried that he might decide to try and keep her, to make her his, to take her from you and a smaller part of you wondered if she might find the idea compelling. The side of you that delighted in being cuckolded - that got hard at the notion of your wife and her new friend have phone sex - that part of you was turned on by the idea of her being wined and dined by a wealthy, handsome man that also happened to possess a great deal of skill in the bedroom, that fucked her better than you did, that left her so enamored with him that she'd agreed without hesitation to visit him so she could spend the weekend playing the part of his sexually ravenous girlfriend.
"Is it a little bit emasculating that another man is paying to dress me the way I deserve to be dressed?" your wife asked.
"Yes," you admitted.
Her smile was sweet, but her words were cutting. "Life is unfair that way, isn't it? You can't afford to dress me this way. He can, so he gets to see me in the most fabulous clothing. He gets to fuck me in the sexiest lingerie the world has to offer. You get to stay home, alone, tending to chores while I'm on the other side of the country entertaining the desires of a man that almost any woman would kill to be with."
She'd succeeded in deepening your emasculation, but in doing so she'd also succeeded in turning you on, thus the slight bulge that had formed in your jeans.
"Can I help you find anything?"
Your wife turned to see a beautiful young woman with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. You noted that not a single hair seemed out of place and that her posture was as flawless as any you'd seen.
"Yes, actually," your wife began with a smile, "I'm looking for something that communicates a more confident kind of sexiness, the sort that lets a man know that he's be lucky to have a strong woman like me, that I'm not simply offering myself up by putting on lingerie, but that I expect him to work for the pleasure of...well, of having me."
The young woman glanced at you and your wife laughed softly.
"Not him," she said. "He's my husband, but we've embarked on a different kind of sexual adventure. I'm shopping for another man. The same man who's paying for all of this. My husband is simply here to help out."
The young woman smiled at you and your face reddened from an overwhelming sense of embarrassment.
"My name is Annalise," she said with a smile. "It would be my pleasure to help you, and if it's not too bold, congratulations on your willingness to expand your horizons and have a little fun. I swear, I've seen more than my fair share of depressing married couples come into this store hoping that lingerie is going to save their marriage. Your approach seems like a great deal more fun, assuming of course your husband is into it."
"Oh, he's into it," your wife said. "It was his idea, in fact. It's possible it's gotten a little bigger than he expected - I'll be spending a long weekend in New York City with my lover while my husband remains at home - but he's still quite excited. It wouldn't take much to lure him into a state of arousal so significant he might be persuaded to get on his knees and kiss my feet right here in the store."
Annalise looked intrigued at the prospect as she studied you, though she said nothing. "Well, if I may be so bold, you're a very lucky woman."
"Why thank you," your wife replied.
Annalise suggested that you both follow her and led you to the other side of the store. She talked of how darker colors often invoked the kind of confidence your wife was looking to emanate and pointed out a handful of corset-like pieces, though none were the traditional version of a corset that danced through your mind. Instead they seemed to be an evolution of the form, one that hugged a woman's body in all the right places while making her form all the more alluring.
"Don't undersell the importance of good footwear, either," Annalise said. "Boots might lean a little more dominant than you're looking for, but at the same time a sexy pair of ankle boots - especially ones that leave your toes exposed - can exude intense confidence and sexiness. Fishnets - if used properly - can actually be classy and confident. If used improperly, of course, they exude the sluttiness of a prostitute, so you'll have to be careful in that department. You can't go wrong with a classic pair of stockings, though. They make every woman's legs look better."
Your wife added a few more items to the collection in your arms and Annalise led you both to the fitting area.
"He's welcome to come in with you," she explained, "though we do ask that our customers not engage in any explicit activity."
Your wife laughed. "Oh, there's no need to worry about that. I have no intention of having sex with my husband until my lover has enjoyed me again."
The denial had begun a week ago when your wife agreed to visit her lover. There was very little conversation about it as she still didn't especially enjoy dominating you at home. She did, however, enjoy texting and talking with her lover, which meant you got a little taste of your cuckolding on a regular basis. The shopping trip was a delightful surprise as it represented a lengthy opportunity to bathe your mind and body in the joys of your wife having a lover, of her expressing her desire for him in a very particular way.
Annalise looked at you and smiled. "Is it difficult to be denied the thing that most men crave?"
You nodded. "Sometimes. Though it's also...it's exciting, too."
"How interesting," she said before turning to your wife. "Again I say that you're a very lucky woman."
"I'm not entirely sure why," your wife began, "but I find myself gripped by a desire to watch my husband kiss your feet, Annalise. Would you be willing to let him do that?"
"I would."
You couldn't tell if she was merely being a good employee - the customer is always right - or if she was actually intrigued by the notion of a man dropping to his knees to kiss her feet. You chose to believe that she was at least a little bit interested.
"Do it," your wife instructed.
Annalise slipped her heels off and smiled. You handed your wife the pile of lingerie you'd collected on your trip through the store, fell to your knees, and leaned forward until your hands were pressed against the floor.
The pleasure of kissing a stranger's feet was more significant than you imagined. Her toes were flawlessly painted a deep shade of red and her skin was quite warm, but it was the sense of submission that you enjoyed most of all. It was different from the submission you'd felt in Las Vegas. It was different, even, from the submission you felt at walking around the store and holding lingerie your wife intended to wear for another man. It was purer.
You sat back on your knees, rested your hands on your thighs, and looked up at Annalise, who was all smiles.
"I have to admit, that was sexier than I would have imagined," she said. "I've been with men that enjoy when I take control in the bedroom, but this is different."
"May I get your number?" your wife asked. "I realize it might be too forward of me, but I wonder if you might have some use for a submissive man while I'm away with my lover. Perhaps my husband could help you explore what you're feeling right now, or perhaps he could simply come to your home and clean for you while you relax. If not, of course, I completely understand."
Annalise looked at you for a few seconds and then turned her attention to your wife. "I won't commit to anything, but I'd like to give you my number. I do find myself intrigued by the idea of a man serving me without reservation or expectation and I did feel a little charge of something at the idea of him dutifully cleaning my home."
They exchanged phones and numbers and you got to your feet, bid adieu to Annalise, and followed your wife to her fitting room.
"Are you sure about that?" you asked once safely ensconced in the more private space.
"Yes, I am," your wife replied. "You should be, too. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable completely dominating you at home, but I might be the sort of woman that finds pleasure in offering her husband up to another woman every once in a while. I wouldn't be okay with you fucking someone else, of course, but if Annalise wanted to use you as a servant, wanted to make you suck on her toes...hell, if she wanted to sit on your face and smother you with her pussy I might be open to that sort of thing. You deserve pleasure, right? Especially when I'm wrapped up in pursuing my pleasure with another man."
You weren't going to assert that you deserved pleasure - that wasn't a sub's place - but you weren't going to disagree, either.
"Thank you," you said. "For thinking of me, I mean. For considering my needs. It's very kind of you."
She smiled and kissed you. It struck you as a kiss meant to arouse, and when her fingers found your growing cock and stroked you through your jeans, that notion was confirmed. The resulting erection was an indicator of the arousal that flooded your body, arousal that seemed to please your wife as her lips curled into a smile.
"May I remove your clothes?" you asked.
The request seemed to surprise her, but after a moment's consideration your wife nodded. You carefully unbuttoned her blouse and helped her out of it. You unbuttoned her jeans and fell to your knees to remove them, tracing your fingers down her outer thighs and leaning in to kiss her soft, creamy skin as you did so. You removed her heels and she stepped out of the jeans.
You stood and your wife kissed you. Her tongue was eager as her body pressed against yours. Your mind demanded that you fuck her right there in the fitting room, Annalise's request to avoid explicit activity be damned. Of course, you weren't in control. Your wife was and you knew she had no intention of letting your cock anywhere near her pussy before she departed for her cross country trip.
"You want me, don't you?" she asked.
"I do. More than anything."
Her eyes were alive with lust, though there was a hint of something else there, too. "You can't have me. Not until he's had me. Not until he's had me over and over again."
It was the teasing. The denial. The power you'd imbued her with by offering your submission. She hadn't really gotten in touch with it since your visit to Las Vegas - she didn't want to dominate you at home - but she was in touch with it in the fitting room. She was alive with it.
"Can I...can I go down on you?" you asked.
"No. You can watch me try on lingerie that I'm going to wear for another man. Lingerie that's far too expensive for you to afford. Lingerie that only a wealthy man could afford to dress a woman in."
It felt like she was taunting you, and in a different situation her words would have been overtly cruel. They weren't, though. They were arousing. They were, in a roundabout way, quite generous as she was tending to your submissive side, to the part of you that relished being a cuckold, that got off on it.
You spent half an hour watching your wife try on lingerie. She kept her panties on - policy at every lingerie store, apparently - but was otherwise naked. She refused to let you touch her while she tried on every piece and she talked at great length about which pieces he would like, about how turned on he would be to see her in them, about how she was looking forward to stoking the flames of his desire and using her body to extinguish them, to satisfy him, to make him feel as though she was the only woman that could satisfy him in the manner he craved.
Her desire for him was obvious and it enflamed your jealousy and insecurity. By all accounts, he offered more than you ever could. He was more successful. He was a little better looking. He was in better shape - though not by much. He was more cultured. He lived in an exciting city and you in a relatively quiet suburb. More than anything, though, your wife wanted to satisfy his sexual desires in a way she'd never wanted to satisfy yours.
That last part bothered you until you reexamined it, until it became clear that your wife's trip was a way for her to satisfy your sexual desires. She'd learned in Vegas that being a cuckold brought you greater sexual pleasure than anything in your life, that it turned you on in ways you could scarcely describe, that your orgasms associated with it were overpowering, mind-bending, beautiful expressions of lust that stuck with you for days afterwards. Perhaps you were wrong, but you interpreted her willingness to travel to her lover's home city to spend a long weekend as his sexual paramour as an act of love, as a means of satisfying you in ways she'd never been able to before.
"I'm lucky that I don't have to choose which set to buy," she said while trying on the last item, "that I've been given a near limitless budget. I'm lucky I found a man who possesses far greater wealth than my husband."
"I'm lucky too."
She directed a smile your way. "Is that right?"
You nodded. "I loved being cuckolded in Vegas. It turned me on so much. The orgasms were incredible. Seeing you have such good sex, seeing how much you liked him, how good it felt to be with him, to cum on his cock, to make him cum...all of that made me so happy, so satisfied. There's no question I'm lucky to be with a woman like you."
She stepped closer. Your hands moved to her sides and you caressed the soft material of the black corset-like piece she'd changed into. Her smile was warm and soft and she stood on her toes to kiss you.
"I'm going to take some pictures for him," she said. "To let him know what he's spending his money on. To get him excited for our time together. I'd like you to wait outside."
You left the fitting room and returned to the small sitting area at the end of the hallway. You watched a woman and her husband shopping and saw the lust in his eyes as he undoubtedly imagined fucking his wife in every single piece she held against her body. Part of you envied him and part of you was thrilled that your wife was willing to step outside the box and pursue this very particular form of pleasure that thrilled you more than any other.
"Did she enjoy her selections?"
You smiled at the gentle fright caused by Annalise's appearance. You realized you were far more caught up in thinking of your cuckolding than you'd imagined.
"She did. She's taking pictures for her lover right now. She wants to tease him a little. To get him excited for their time together."
She smiled at you. "To have him spend a week thinking of how badly he wants to fuck your wife?"
Her comfort with tossing off a sexually charged sentence caught you off guard, though not nearly as much as when she reached out and ran her index finger over your lips.
"Would you do as your wife suggested you might do?" she asked. "While she was away, I mean? Would you come to my home? Would you do as I pleased?"
You nodded and to your surprise - Annalise was full of surprises - she gently pushed two fingers into your mouth. Without much thought you began to suck on them as eroticism swirled around you.
"We'll see how I feel a few days from now, but I think there's a good chance I'm going to take your wife up on her offer," she said.
Annalise smiled and walked away. You watched her go as your body hummed from the dose of domination you'd just received. Beneath it was a hint of nervousness, though, at the idea of showing up to a stranger's house and offering yourself for a weekend. What if Annalise was into far darker pleasures than your wife?
The fitting room door opened and you turned to see your wife, fully dressed, waving to you. You hurried down the hallway and carried all of her items for purchase out of the fitting area.
Annalise rang you up - taking a well-earned commission, no doubt - and asked that your wife get in touch regarding your service during her vacation weekend.
You carried the bag full of lingerie out of the store and headed for your car. You weren't done shopping yet, though. Your wife needed more than lingerie to get fucked in. She'd be doing to the theater, to dinner at fabulous restaurants, and to a work function of some sort with her lover. She needed to look great for all of it and so you were going to spend the rest of the day helping her achieve those great looks.
"After today you're going to deserve a reward," she said, "assuming you remain well-behaved, of course."
"I will."
She reached over and caressed your thigh. "I know you will. I've decided that your reward will be to lie in bed next to me and listen as I have phone sex, as I detail all the things I'm going to do to make him feel good. You won't be permitted to masturbate and you won't be permitted to touch me, but you will be allowed to listen and enjoy the preview of your next cuckolding."
You held her hand and smiled. "I'd love that. Thank you. Thank you so much for being the most incredible wife in the world."
"In this case, it's going to be my pleasure. That's what you want though, right?"
You nodded. "Yes. That's all that really matters, in fact."
She gave your cock a quick squeeze and then pulled her hand away to answer what you assumed was a text from her lover.
The shopping lasted longer than you expected. So long, in fact, that dinner time rolled around before you'd gotten home. You went to a restaurant, instead, and enjoyed a lovely meal while you talked of how beautiful your wife had looked in every single thing she tried on. As it turned out, wildly expensive clothing really was made better than the cheaper stuff.
You headed to the bedroom with the bags of items your wife's lover had purchased. You were prepared to hang each item in the closet, but your wife ordered you to strip as she did the same and crawled into bed.
She called her lover. She put it on speaker.
"Hey, baby," she said.
"It's good to hear your voice. I've missed you terribly. And those pictures. They were exquisite. You are truly a flawless woman."
Your wife smiled. Her nipples were hard. She ran a hand down her stomach and between her legs and rubbed her clit slowly.
"I like that you were thinking about me," she said softly. "I like that you were thinking naughty thoughts, that those pictures made you want me."
"I crave you. I've craved you since we first kissed. I think of you constantly. I think of your taste, of your touch, of your body, of your generosity in receiving me, of your desire for me."
She plunged a finger into her pussy and you resisted the urge to roll over and take her nipple into your mouth. She hadn't glanced at you once since he'd picked up and it was both thrilling and agonizing to know that she was so caught up in her desire for him.
"I was going to send a car to pick you up from the airport, but I've changed my mind," he said. "I need to see you as soon as possible. I need to feel you in my arms. I need to kiss you, to hold you, to feel your warmth."
She smiled. "That makes me happy. I'll make sure that I look good for you, that you want me from the moment you lay eyes on me."
"I want you right now," he said.
"I'm wet for you...I'm soaked for you, in fact."
She closed her eyes and moaned. You were fairly certain you heard him masturbating, though the sound was muffled.
"I can't stop thinking about having you in my mouth," your wife said. "About sucking your beautiful cock. About making you feel good in that way, about the look on your face when I give you that pleasure. I've never truly enjoyed giving head before...but then I met you and I discovered the pleasure of it."
"Then I must admit that your skill at it surprises me. You offer pleasure in that manner in a way only a woman with a wealth of experience would, but I suppose in your case that skill comes from a desire to please."
She moaned and arched her back. "I do want to make you feel good. I want it so badly. I want to taste your cock. I want to take it between my lips. I want to look up at you as I suck you, as I stroke you, as I play with your balls, as I please you while you admire my body in the lingerie you bought for me."
"And shall I cum in your mouth?" he asked.
You wanted so badly to add to your wife's pleasure, to touch her, to kiss her, to suck on her nipples, to aid her in achieving an incredible orgasm. You couldn't disappoint her by disobeying, though. She was offering you a rare at-home taste of cuckolding and submission and you suspected it wouldn't be offered again if you failed to control your desires.
"Yes," she answered before unleashing a long moan. "Cum in my mouth. Let me swallow for you!"
They came together. His grunts and groans mixed beautifully with hers and left you in a state of intense desire. You gripped the bed sheets to prevent your hand from finding its way to your stiff cock. You watched the pleasure dance over your wife's face, culminating in a beautiful smile as she opened her eyes and finally turned her head towards you.
"Thank you," she said to her lover. "I can't wait to see you, to actually be able to pleasure you in person, to be able to suck your cock, to give you my pussy, to give you everything you desire."
"I will think of you constantly until we're together again," he replied.
She hung up the phone, placed it on the nightstand, and rolled towards you until her body was pressed against yours. Her tongue found its way into your mouth and she gripped your cock and stroked you slowly.
"Cum for me," she whispered.
You did so in just a handful of seconds. Your arousal was more significant than you'd imagined. Your orgasm was pure bliss.
"Thank you," you said afterwards.
"You're welcome," she replied.
Your eyes closed as relaxation spread through your body. "Can I help put away your new clothes and lingerie?"
"I appreciate the offer, but it will be easier if I do it," she said. "I will let you help me pack before I leave next week, though. I think that might be fun."
She got up and grabbed your underwear to help you clean up. You did so while replaying the conversation she'd had with her lover.
You couldn't help but feel a little nervous in your post-orgasmic state. Your wife was quite enamored with him, after all, and he was - in so many ways - a superior version of a man. You'd committed, though, so despite your nervousness you weren't going to back out on your support of her desire to see him again, to cuckold you again. You were going to be good even though you suspected it would be among the most difficult weekends of your life.