Monday Morning Hotwife Part 2

Crystal's encounter with Mitchell, the Dom, twisted her mind and left her reeling, off-balance, and totally hot and horny

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Crystal held the door for Mitchell who looked more imposing than she had imagined. His eyes were nicely framed by wavy hair and seemed to pierce her outsides and send lasers of lust into her depths.

“Welcome.” Her nightshirt hung over her body and her hair cascaded over her shoulders. Any moment now, he would take her and fling her onto the bed and begin using his cock to enthrall her.

“Thank you.” He leaned and she kissed him on the cheek. He set his bag down, embraced her, and gave her ass a light swat.

She giggled. “Ow.”

“Did you like that?”

“Yes, of course.” She motioned to the sofa and he sat. “What should I call you? Sir? Daddy? Master?”

Weeks of messaging, emailing, phone calls, and in-person meetings were finally being rewarded. Crystal had always thought a man would just jump at the chance to fuck an attractive woman, especially one who called himself a Dom, but Mitchell seemed to take his time.

“We’ll talk about it. Eventually. Come, sit.” He patted the cushion and crossed his legs. She sat prettily, perched on the sofa’s edge. “What should you call me?”

“Yeah, I was wondering.” She bit her lip eagerly.

“Titles are earned, unless this is a game to you.” He asked seriously, crossing his legs. “Is it a game?”

“Excuse me?”

“What did I just ask you?” He sounded stern and grit his teeth. “Repeat back to me what I just asked you.”

Crystal swallowed, surprised at the response. “You asked if I thought this was a game.”

“Yes, then why did you ask, ‘Excuse me’ as though you didn’t hear?” He uncrossed his legs and narrowed his eyes.

“Um, I, uh—” she didn’t know what to say.

He stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. “What do you want from this?”

“From what?” Crystal ‘s chest felt heavy.

“From what? This.” He spread his hands. “I’m getting quite annoyed.”

Her mouth became dry and she licked her lips.

“Well?”

“I, uh, I—”

“You don’t know what you want?” He clapped his hands together and acted surprised. “Should I leave?” He shifted.

“Oh, my God. No, please. Don’t.”

“Then answer my question.” Mitchell was matter-of-fact. “Now.”

“What do I want?” Crystal shifted her glance around the room, unaware that her hem line somehow moved up her thighs.

“Tell me.”

“Uh, sex?”

“Are you asking me?”

She swallowed hard again and wondering how she could get out of the hole that seemed to grow deeper. “No.”

He reached forward, gently, and stroked her hair. “Answer me.”

His breath was warm and sweet. Crystal loved how he touched her hair. “Sex. I guess.”

“Sex?”

“That’s all?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, no.” Confusion clouded her thoughts.

He withdrew his hand and sounded disappointed. “You don’t know what you want. And I thought you did.”

Crystal didn’t know what to say. She had felt so in control with Jonathon. Now what if she had to tell him that Mitchell left and nothing happened? Was it all just a joke?

She answered. “I don’t know what to say.”

He studied her. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“Sorry.” She tugged on her hemline.

“For what?”

“If you don’t like it.”

“You’re forgetting something. Remember the text messages I had sent you?”

He had sent so damn many and she had masturbated while reading them, getting off while making Jonathon watch. She trembled. “Which one?”

“About your clothing.”

And now she remembered. He had told her how he wanted her to greet him. In tight, yellow panties and a T-shirt. “Oh, yes.”

“Why didn’t you then? Why dress like this?”

Crystal tried answering. “’Cause I thought it was sexy.”

“Take it off and toss it over there.” He pointed across the room.

She lifted the silky fabric. threw it, and sat naked on the sofa while he stared at her. Sitting still made her feel uncomfortable.