Margaret Enjoys Role Play Pt. 03

“Nervous?”

I had parked the car a short distance from Pam and Lachlan’s Killara home, to give Margaret a final chance to reconsider.

“Yes, there are elephants trampling around my stomach. It’s just like going on a first date, with the added worry that I know I’m going to have sex on a first date. I didn’t even do that with you.”

“Last chance to cry off then,” I said. “I can phone Lachlan and make our apologies.”

Margaret’s laugh was twinged with anxiety. “It’s just so confusing. Part of me wants to run straight home and hide. Part of me’s as hot as a cat on Colorbond roof, I’m worried there’s a wet patch on the seat of my gown. Part of me says that what I’m about to do is a betrayal of you and the institution of marriage, and another part tells me not to be so stupid, that marriage is just another link in the chain of the male patriarchy, and that having sex with someone other than my intimate partner is perfectly normal. I saw a survey the other day that claimed over half of all women cheat on their partners, and 70% would do so if they thought they wouldn’t get caught.”

“You’re not cheating Margaret. Any more than I cheated on you when I had sex with Pam. It’s not cheating if we both know about it.”

“It was the headmaster who had sex with Pam,” she said.

Pam, with Lachlan’s approval, enjoyed impact play, and I had been role playing the headmaster to give her the caning she had requested. Margaret had ended up delivering it, while I had had sex with Pam (with Margaret’s agreement) while she was restrained in leg and ankle cuffs. It had been a very exciting evening, but playing the role of headmaster didn’t absolve me of responsibility for what had happened. On the other hand, what was good for one role player was good for another.

“Well, if you want to put it like that,” I said, “it won’t be you having sex with Lachlan, it will be the submissive M. I’m going to take her inside and deliver her to him. The responsibility of what happens after that is out of her hands.”

“Her master made her do it?”

“Yes, if it helps to think like that. You already look the part.”

Margaret was wearing her Roissy costume: the black wasp-waisted corset, the green gown that left her breasts exposed and the neck, ankle and wrist cuffs. Over the several weeks that she’d been wearing the corset, she’d been able to lace it tighter and tighter until her waist, while wearing it, had shrunk to 24 inches. The hour glass result was incredibly erotic. I had also continued her anal stretching. She could now easily accommodate the large butt plug for several hours at a time. She was not wearing it for this evening, and I had cleansed her with an enema. Margaret had not objected to the enema, but she had admitted that the prospect of anal sex only added to her anxieties.

“What if he’s too big?” she had asked.

“Is that meant to make me feel inadequate?”

“No! But Pam’s always boasting.”

“Unless she was born with abnormally large orifices, anything she can accommodate, you can.”

Margaret’s hand reached for mine in the darkened car. “Okay, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Take me to him.”

“Put your handbag in the glove box,” I said. “You won’t need phone or keys or purse.”

“Oh my God. Would you really leave me there?”

I squeezed her hand. There were elephants trampling my stomach too. Lachlan was, apparently, quite happy for Pam to play away from home on her own. He had delivered her to the headmaster without any qualms. Would he want me to do the same and leave Margaret alone with him and Pam? The thought was both terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Staying, and being allowed to watch, presented the same tantalising dilemma.

“That’s up to Lachlan,” I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt, and as Margaret obviously was.

I started the engine. “Take a deep breath girl. You can do this. We can do this.”

A few minutes later, I pulled into their driveway and turned off the ignition. Margaret waited for me to open her door and let me lead her by the hand. The lamps were on over the front door and, as we emerged from the shadows, the golden light bathed Margaret’s naked breasts.

“Head up, shoulders back,” I said. “You look magnificent.”

“I’m so nervous, my legs are shaking.”

“It’s just stage fright, once the curtain rises and the adrenalin kicks in, you’ll be fine.”

The door opened and Pam greeted us. She kissed Margaret on the lips.

“You look gorgeous, Mags. Did you drive all the way like that?”

“Yes,” said Margaret, managing a smile. “He made me do it.”

Pam kissed me on the cheek. “That’s the spirit. Come in out of the cold. Or is something else making your nipples that hard?”

Inside the stronger light of the hallway, I had better sight of Pam’s outfit. She was elegantly dressed in a figure-hugging black cocktail dress, stockings and high heels. The dress’ neckline revealed only a hint of her generous cleavage. Her red-hair was neatly styled and her make up discreet. escort izmir Pam watched my eyes examining her and grinned.

“Not what you were expecting? Not tarty enough for you?”

“You look lovely.”

“I’m plain Jane this evening, for the time being anyway. I don’t want to eclipse the star of the show. Come through.”

We followed her to the lounge. Margaret held onto my hand, gripping tightly. Lachlan rose from an armchair to greet us.

“Ah, James, good of you to come.” He reached out a massive hand and grasped mine with his vice-like grip. “And who’s this you’ve brought for me?”

The look of eager inquiry in his eyes, as he pretended not to know Margaret, didn’t hide the smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“This is M.” I lifted up the hand I was holding and offered it to Lachlan. Margaret released her grip and allowed him to take her hand. Lachlan raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

“I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, my dear.” He took a step back, holding her hand at arm’s length, and slowly ran his eyes up and down her body, pausing to enjoy the sight of her breasts firmly supported by the corset. “Charming. I shall enjoy examining the rest of you momentarily. Now, please sit. M, dear, perch yourself on the footstool. James, take the other chair. Pam, darling, can you bring our guests some champagne. I assume you will allow M a glass, James? I imagine she’s in need of something to calm the opening night jitters.”

Lachlan held Margaret’s hand as she lowered her bottom onto the padded footstool close to the foot of his armchair. He released her hand, and smiled as Margaret arranged her skirt, allowing the slit to fall open to reveal her parted legs as far as the upper thighs. Her eyes flickered between Lachlan’s and mine, and she flashed me a nervous smile. I nodded, excited that, despite her apprehension, she was still playing the role of the submissive.

Lachlan caught the exchange and reached out to touch Margaret on the knee. A momentary look of panic clouded her eyes. “Don’t be afraid, Margaret,” he said. “There’s always a first time for everything. Ah, here’s Pam with the shampoo.” He raised his glass. “What shall we drink to? I know … to love, in all its romantic, painful, passionate, carnal, messy forms.”

Had Lachlan called her Margaret to help her feel at ease, or did he want to make her role play more difficult by stripping away the illusion that she was submissive? His face and body language betrayed nothing. He swallowed his champagne and asked Pam to top up our glasses. He was also elegantly dressed, in well-cut slacks and a tailored shirt which accentuated his muscular frame. At almost 2 metres tall, six foot six on the old scale, and with a face that bore the scars of years of hard-fought scrummaging in First Grade rugby, he was an imposing, almost intimidating presence. He towered over Pam, but it was clear to all who knew them that he worshipped the ground she walked on. Pam’s friendship with Margaret dated back to high school. She had never hidden the fact that she and Lachlan were swingers but, until now, our friendship had never crossed any sexual boundaries. That was about to change.

Lachlan took another mouthful of champagne. “Margaret, would you mind hitching your skirt up higher and opening your legs wider.”

Margaret’s face flushed at the boldness of the request, but her hand pulled the slit of the skirt wider apart and she spread her legs. Both Lachlan and I were treated to the view of her waxed sex. Her closed inner lips pouted neatly. Pam had sat on the floor beside Lachlan’s chair with her legs curled under her. Lachlan was gently stroking her neck and hair with one hand, while sipping champagne from the glass in his other.

“Do you find it embarrassing to be on display like that, Margaret?”

The flush on her face deepened. “Yes.”

“But you weren’t embarrassed when you stripped for James’s nephew and allowed him to intimately examine you?”

“I was, but …”

“It turned you on as well,” said Lachlan. “And are you turned on now?”

Margaret dropped her eyes. “Yes.”

“Please look at me Margaret,” said Lachlan. “Now, I want you to insert two fingers into yourself and show us how wet you are. But I want you to ask first. Say, ‘Please Lachlan, may I show you how wet I am’.”

Margaret’s eyes widened, but a smile played around the edges of her lips. “Please Lachlan, may I show you how wet I am?”

“Certainly Margaret, and look at me while you do it.”

Keeping her eyes focused on Lachlan’s, Margaret extended two fingers and slid them down between her legs. They disappeared into her cleft. When she removed them, they glistened with her nectar.

“It’s wonderful how our bodies betray us,” said Lachlan, grinning. “I know you haven’t done this before. I know what it was like having to screw up your courage to come here tonight. It was the same for Pam and me the first time we swapped partners with another couple. But for all the shame and embarrassment, izmir escort bayan your body betrays what you really want. And you want this, don’t you Margaret?”

“Yes Lachlan. I’m almost shaking with fright but, yes.”

“Good. Now ask me if you can suck your fingers, and turn all my requests into questions, understood?”

“Yes. Please Lachlan, may I suck my fingers?”

“Yes. Then stand up and take off your gown and the corset. I want you naked.” Margaret sucked her fingers before replying. “May I please be naked for you, Lachlan.”

He nodded. Margaret stood, reached behind her back to unzip her gown and dropped it to the floor. Stepping away from it, she stood facing Lachlan while he feasted on the sight of her clad only in the black corset.

“Help her unlace the corset, Pam,” he said, finally, resting his champagne glass on a side table.

Pam jumped to her feet, crossed behind Margaret and untied the laces. When it was loose, Margaret unclipped the hooks at the front and dropped the corset onto her gown. Her narrowed waist showed the marks where the stiff fabric had creased her flesh. Lachlan raised a finger and beckoned her.

“May I please stand in front of you, Lachlan?” she said, obediently.

I had demanded Pam strip for me when we role played her visit to the headmaster. There was an intoxicating sense of power when she complied, even though I knew she did so willingly. Now it was equally thrilling, not just to have another man command Margaret to strip for him, but to make her ask to do so. My heart was pounding and my erection already strained the front of my slacks. Was Lachlan equally hard? I couldn’t see from where I was sitting, but Margaret undoubtedly could.

He nodded. Margaret advanced the couple of steps until she was almost touching Lachlan’s knees. Sitting forward in the chair, he was still so tall that his head was almost level with hers. He raised his hands, pausing them just shy of her breasts. Margaret knew the drill by now and, finally free of her clothing, I could see the nervousness fading in the face of her growing arousal. She glanced at me, not, I immediately saw, to seek my consent for what she was about to do, but to let me know she felt free to do it. Another line was about to be crossed.

“Please touch me, Lachlan.”

Margaret breathed out in soft sigh as Lachlan’s huge hands cupped her breasts. He lifted them, feeling their weight, stroked his fingertips around the undersides and rubbed circles around her already stiff nipples.

“You have beautiful breasts, Margaret. They look so firm and they’re a delight to touch. Did you breast feed both your children?”

“Yes,” said Margaret, smiling at the compliment. “Yoga and lots of chest muscle exercise helps.”

“Lower?” said Lachlan, moving his hands.

Margaret shivered with anticipation. “Yes. Please touch my belly and … between my legs, Lachlan.”

Lachlan slid his hands down over her torso and paused to grab the skin of her belly between forefinger and thumb. Margaret giggled. “Did I pass the pinch test?”

“Yes, you have a gorgeous figure, Margaret. How much does your waist shrink when you wear the corset?”

“About five inches.”

Margaret was relaxing. The smile on her face was no longer tinged with anxiety and her voice was firm. Whether or not she was still role playing the submissive, she was warming to Lachlan’s game and the rising sexual tension between them.

Lachlan stroked her belly, and ran his fingers along the faint stretch marks. Margaret had worked hard to regain her figure post-partum, and strove to successfully maintain it.

“Ah, you’ve found my tiger stripes,” she chuckled. “I have them on my bum too.”

I held my breath as Lachlan’s fingers stroked over Margaret’s mound. She trembled, and goosebumps rippled her thighs. My cock throbbed and I exhaled slowly, trying to calm my excitement.

“You feel lovely and smooth. Did you wax specially for me?” asked Lachlan.

Margaret laughed. “Not especially. You’ve seen the photos of me Andy took. So you knew I was shaved. James persuaded me to wax this time. It’s bloody painful, I can tell you.”

“So Pam says, too,” replied Lachlan. “How long since you allowed your pubic hair to grow naturally?”

“Ten years’ ago, maybe. You can thank James, he’s normally in charge of the razor.”

“Ask me permission to open your legs.”

Margaret’s face flushed and she bit her lower lip. Was she still feeling a twinge of shame at having to ask permission to open her legs, knowing I was listening, or was she struggling to contain her arousal?

“Do you like me asking you intimate question’s while I’m touching you, Margaret?” Lachlan’s fingers reached in between her legs to caress her vulva and his palm cupped her mound. A soft moan escaped her lips and her eyes closed.

“Yes. Oohhhhhh, yes.”

I was enthralled by them too. Lachlan’s questions, and the responses he was coaxing from Margaret, were designed for my ears not his, and were the most izmir escortlar erotic thing I had ever heard a man ask a woman who was not his wife.

“Look at me Margaret. How long have you been married?” he asked.

“Twenty-five years.”

“And, apart from James, am I the first man to touch you like this in all that time?”

Lachlan’s fingers wriggled deeper into Margaret’s groin, her eyes widened and her mouth formed an O from which a long sigh escaped. I was certain he’d inserted at least one huge finger into her.

She nodded. “Yesssssss.”

“Tell your husband what I’m doing to you, and how it feels.”

“Lachlan’s got two fingers inside me, James,” she breathed. “It feels wonderful.”

“It feels wonderful to have a man who’s not your husband touch you like this?” Lachlan persisted, working his back and forth along her slit.

“Yes.” Margaret’s knees were shaking and her hips rocked against the pressure of the fingers pleasuring her.

“Were you a virgin when you met James?”

“N … nooo.” Margaret’s eyes had closed.

“Open your eyes, Margaret. How many men had you had sex with before James?” Lachlan’s huge hand gripped Margaret’s sex as he worked his fingers deeper into her.

“Three.” Margaret opened her eyes and I could see the lust in them.

Lachlan’s hand went still and he turned to me. “You’re a very lucky man, James, to have had Margaret all to yourself all these years. All the married women I’ve ever met have had a least one lover apart from their husbands.” He slid his fingers out of Margaret’s cleft and held them up. For a moment I thought he was going to suck them. Instead, he presented them to Pam who was still sitting curled up at his feet. She opened her mouth wide and closed her lips around them.

He waited while Pam sucked and licked his fingers, before withdrawing them.

“How does your best friend taste, Pam?”

“Delicious. Will you let me really taste her, later?”

“We’ll see.” He reached out and stroked his hand down the side of Margaret’s thigh. “Turn around.”

“May I turn around please, Lachlan?” she repeated.

He nodded and she turned her back to him. He placed his massive hands on her shoulders and gently massaged her neck. Margaret turned her head from side to side and murmured with pleasure. Much as I enjoy the sight of Margaret’s breasts, her naked back is also highly erotic. Without a bra, in a backless dress that plunges to the top of her buttocks, she looks incredibly sensual. Dancing with her, and placing a hand on her naked back is also a terrific turn on, and not just for me. Wearing that dress to a dance, she is a target for men we barely know, keen to take advantage of the opportunity to touch her naked skin.

Ending the massage, Lachlan ran his hands over her back and paused at her hips. Extending his fingers, he placed one hand either side of her waist. “Do you think I can squeeze them together until my fingers meet?”

Margaret giggled. “You can try.”

She helped him by sucking in her belly but, despite the size of his hands, his fingertips didn’t meet. He relaxed his grip and slid his hands onto her bottom. There was a gasp as his thumbs invaded her crevice, and he squeezed her buttocks. “Spread your legs and touch your toes, Margaret.”

She obediently bent over without repeating his request. Leaning forward, with her buttocks only inches from his face, Lachlan gazed with delight at the glorious view of her bottom. The marks from her last caning were still clearly visible.

“When were you caned last, Margaret?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Do you like being caned?” He stroked his fingertips along the fading stripes.

“Yes.”

“Would you let me watch, the next time?”

“Yes, if you like, Lachlan.”

The conversation between them had become so intimate and personal that I felt like a voyeur, watching and listening to lovers engaged in a prolonged, electrifying dance of foreplay. There was no resistance, no hesitation, in Margaret’s responses, she was opening herself up to Lachlan’s questions as easily as she had to his fingers. How easily he had secured her agreement to let him watch the next time I caned her. He was skillfully building her arousal to a point where I knew she would deny him nothing. I had seen live sex shows in nightclubs from Amsterdam to Athens, but nothing had ever been so erotically charged as watching Margaret, my own wife, willingly surrender herself.

Lachlan placed his hands back on her buttocks and spread them wide, exposing the bud of her anus. “What do you want me to do now, Margaret?”

This time there was a moment’s hesitation. Perhaps she was still a little afraid of the effect her performance was having on me, and was waiting for a signal of approval for her to continue. I kept silent. I wanted her to continue, I wanted to see how far Lachlan could take her, but I wanted her to make the decision herself.

“I want you to touch me … there.”

“Where, here?” Lachlan’s fingertip gently probed the entrance to her back passage.

“Yes … please.”

“Has James been dilating your anus?”

“Yes.”

“Is it working?”

Margaret’s throaty chuckle was delightful. “You dirty man. Do you want to find out? Go on then.”