DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

The Fem Dom Training Software.
Advises on how best to train your husband/lover.

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Re: C: Topping from the bottom a dead end
Date: 18 Jul 2008 12:50:01 -0000
From: Vickie

jonnyboy54321 wrote:

>"How do I get her to open up and be the boss?"

You don't "get" her to do anything, jonnyboy. You do what she
wants to do. And if she wants to do nothing, I'd suggest you do
that submissively and gratefully, and see how it feels. Above
all, how she feels about it.

Vickie

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Re: C: Topping from the bottom a dead end
From: Peter Green
Date: Fri, 18 Jul 2008 13:12:01 +0000

Topping from the bottom, sometimes we, as subs, just have to let
go. Trust her to say what she wants and do what she wants and
enjoy the submission. I have always been in trouble when i think
too much about the bigger picture -,that's the Domme's job!

Think about what she tells you to do and do as best you can. At
the end of the day if her joy comes from having you do things
you enjoy, why not?

Have fun
peter

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Re: C: Topping from the bottom a dead end
Date: 18 Jul 2008 19:14:08 -0000
From: Mark

jonnyboy54321 wrote:

>"How do i get her to open up and be the boss? Topping from the
>bottom seems a dead end i think, and i love her dearly and want
>to serve her totally and keep our love alive."

Ok, from my perspective, (nearly 30 years involvement in BDSM,
[always as a sub]), married to a wonderful and extremely
dominant woman and living the lifestyle 24/7:

I don't care what others tell you about not doing anything but
submitting and being "grateful" to, that's a load of hockey
pucks. No you don't want to, (nor should you), top from the
bottom, but this should be a symbiotic relationship, where your
needs as a sub are met, as are her needs as a Domme. If it
becomes too one sided, (in either direction), then one partner
will be unsatisfied and unfulfilled, and eventually neither
person is happy.

You need to learn to have the courage to communicate things with
her, not particularly in the middle of a session, but in times
just sitting around together. There's nothing wrong with
offering your suggestions or your input to improve any part of
your relationship, and if there is in the relationship, that's
not healthy. That's domineering, NOT dominating, and there is a
vast difference between the two. I know, I've had both done to
me.

My Wife/Mistress expects me to talk things over with Her, She
want' a submissive man, not a wimpy doormat. Also because of the
differences in our ages, (I'm 20 years older than She is), I
have a great deal more experience in the lifestyle to draw upon.

My Wife wants and values my advice, input and my knowledge based
on my experience, just as She values me and my submission I give
to Her. Trust me, i do NOT top from the bottom, but I also am
NOT a doormat.

Any relationship, whether lifestyle or vanilla is a two way
street, and without a way of getting your input into it, you're
not doing anything to improve it. There's no guarantee that she
will take your input in consideration, but offering it isn't
"topping from the bottom". You have to achieve the right balance
to make it work.

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Re: C: Topping from the bottom a dead end
From: Madamplz
Date: Fri, 18 Jul 2008 19:30:15 EDT

jonnyboy wrote:

>How do i get her to open up and be the boss?

It sounds to me as she's doing fine. It also sounds to me as
though you may be pushing her into doing more, or better than
what she's currently doing. If that's the case you will cause
her to shut down, not open up. Why don't you let her just absorb
her experiences and do as she likes? You've already experienced
more than most submissive men I know.

You say you have no cause to complain, yet in your eagerness it
would seem you intend to give her signals that she somehow needs
your help to do whatever she's doing better. It will seem like
criticism or at best a left handed compliment.

If you really wish to help her, let her know you're really
enjoying her attention and take every opportunity to show her
your willingness to submit even when the situation is not
sexual, lest she think this is simply a game in which you write
all the rules.

Madam

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Re: C: how to be dominant for a generous guy?
From: Madamplz
Date: Fri, 18 Jul 2008 20:23:26 EDT

Michele wrote:

>To me, she seemed to be interested in starting a career, and I
>think Madamplz, in her as-usual thoughtful response, felt
>about the same.

Good to hear from you again Michele.

Yes, I did interpret Pam's post in the same way. I've met many
women who've thought becoming a pro-domme was a really easy way
to earn a living. In my opinion, there are much easier ways that
would protect their futures and also allow them to enjoy
dominating a man strictly for pleasure.

For me, the payoff would never be great enough if it came in the
form of cash or "tribute" as some euphemistically call it. I do
what I do because I enjoy doing things because I can.

Incidentally, I have a very good friend who is a money slave and
have had a few very entertaining jaunts with him. I've taken him
shopping with me and a few friends. I found I really enjoyed
encouraging my friends to shop for fetish items. After a couple
of hours I'd have the sales clerk tally the damages and tell him
to "Pay the man, harold".

I don't know why that phrase tickled me so but it did. I'm sure
it did not hurt at all that he was very "dominant" in his chosen
field. It pleased me to make him feel a need to grovel for me,
frankly. It would not have been nearly as much fun to take cash
from him. Likewise, had I needed money from him I doubt he would
have enjoyed what we were doing. Perhaps I'll go into that
relationship a bit more at another time.

He was a very interesting man with whom I had a lot of fun -
literally, at his expense and of course, to his delight. There
are a lot of dominant women walking around today in custom
corsets I had him purchase for them.

But money slaves don't usually get a charge from handing over
cash - it's about being made to purchase something in order to
please. For this man in particular, it could also be about
carrying around an overwhelming load of purchases for which he'd
had to pay. Whenever I think of him I always see him stumbling
along the streets with all but his feet buried behind bags and
boxes.

Most of the men with whom a pro would come into contact are not
money slaves, anyway. It's a pay for play situation. Very few
pro-Dommes have clients who are loyal to them alone. I would
think that would be disheartening for a lot of women.

In any event, I was glad to hear from you again. More than being
right about a prediction I'm happy to know you're happy in your
life.

Madam

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P: dominant wife seeking couples with similar interests
Date: 20 Jul 2008 21:12:29 -0000
From: Ms. Kitty

I am a dominant wife married to a submissive husband. We met on
the original Apron Strings about ten years ago while I was
seeking a submissive husband and he was seeking a dominant wife.
We are both very intelligent, highly educated professionals.

In private and in the bedroom, I am dominant and my husband is
submissive. I believe in loving discipline especially spanking.

In public, we appear to have a conventional relationship. We are
both very happy with our relationship Up until now, our
relationship has been private.

Recently, we became interested in developing friendships with
other couples (man and women) who believe the wife is in charge
and the disciplinarian. We are seeking a couple like ourselves.
We are only interested in developing friendships with married
couples or committed couples (female/male) where the female is
dominant and the male submissive.

Interestingly, it is a lot easier to find a submissive husband
than it is to find couples with similar interests.

We can be contacted at Mskittydom@aol.com

We will reply to all inquiries as soon as possible. On occasion,
we are away for four or five days so please be patient.

We live in Northern California but also have a home in Florida.
We spend most of our time in California but love our ocean front
condo in Florida.

Ms.Kitty

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P: Sissy loves E-mail domination
Date: 20 Jul 2008 17:11:55 -0000
From: pete

hello,

i am a swm 38 from ct, i have a submissive nature and get turned
on when women tell me feminine things to do, especially being
told what female clothing to shop for. i would love to find a
playful woman willing to be my email Mistress and give me
assignments to carry out for her.

You can give me a female name, i have some panties but not a
lot, i have onepiece swimsuits as well, and i hope to get 1 or 2
bikinis soon also.

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S: Miles's Conundrums
Date: Sun, 6 Jul 2008 19:29:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: randy pulaski

Miles's Conundrums

Gretchen smiled as she moved her long nails across my purplish,
throbbing shaft. She looked so cute... A pale beauty with
short, slightly spiky hair. Gretchen is a little on the chubby
side, but in a sexy T&A kind of a way. She was wearing a tight
top and snug courdoroys as she leaned across the bed toying with
my tortured willy.

"What's wrong, Miles? Having a bad time?" Gretch asked me
bemusedly, as she stroked my quivering shaft with a sharp
thumbnail. "I guess you're having a hard time with the 103 days
so far?" Gretchen smiled at me evilly.

Two and a half years ago when we'd started playing dominance
games, I'd confessed to Gretchen my desire to be put into
chastity, and to "earn" my orgasms.

"How do you mean?" Gretchen had asked at the time. She'd already
begun to enjoy the whole aspect of all the oral sex on her side,
and my increased participation in the heavy housecleaning.

"Well, it's such a thrill making love to you." I had told her.
"I really think that your sexual favors should be earned by me."

Gretchen had laughed at the time. "Well, I already cut you off
when I'm on the rag, or when you stay out too late with those
idiots watching MSNBC."

This was true, Gretchen would most certainly cut me off even
before we were married, just tell me no sex, because she was
mad, and make me do all sorts of chores and favors to get her in
the mood. This really had thrilled me, though her previous
boyfriend, who had been a friend of mine, had told me many times
that Gretchen was a "ballbreaker"

When Gary had broken up with Gretchen, he'd warned me. "No, I
don't mind if you date her, man, but she's really high
maintenance."

Why had that excited me? The idea of trying to please this
imperious princess had been just possessing to me. I'd
immediately begun to prove to her that I was no insensitive Gary
type, that I was primarily focused on making Gretchen pleased.
We never switched the check or any of that nonsense, I always
picked it up.

After we'd married, it had been so gradual how we'd moved into a
state of Gretchen being my dominant. I was an investment banker
and brought home most of the bacon, and Gretchen did a little
film-making. It was her career, but truly much more of a hobby.

Theoretically, Gretch was supposed to look after the house, and
make things comfortable and relaxing for me, and I was glad to
subsidize her projects. But it had seemed from the start that
whenever I got in at night, the house was a bit of a mess...
Gretchen was quite often sitting in front of the TV.

"Oh hey babe," she'd say as I dragged in from a long day.
"Didn't get too much done, but there's some kinda TV dinner
thingie in the kitchen, you know I can't cook."

And I could never get upset with her, and often I'd take off my
jacket, put on an apron, and make us a good meal, as my mother
had taught me to cook quite well. Then I'd try to pick up her
discarded deli wrappers and stray shoes, and sweep the carpet a
bit.

"Your ass looks so cute when you're sweeping, honey," Gretchen
would say with a laugh.

I'd often make her a special dessert, and spend excessive time
rubbing Gretchen's feet, hoping to get lucky at bedtime, and
sometimes I did. Gretchen was a great lover, and she had a tight
vagina! But more often than not, she was tired from whatever
she'd been doing.

I'd warm her up with a little cunt-lapping, and then a little
more.

"God you're so good, Miles!" Gretch would say, gasping.

"Can I come up now, and stick it in?" I'd ask hopefully.

"No, just a little more, please." Gretchen would push my head
further into her hot pussy, and I would lick her 'til she was
exhausted.

"I'm way too tired now for screwing, babe, I'm sorry." Gretchen
would kiss me good night, and tickle my cock a little. "It's
this damn project I'm on."

And there I'd be lying next to her beautiful body, my cock
bouncing like a metronome. Then I'd try not to bother her...
though I wanted to touch her milky full buttocks, or if she was
lying with her face to me, her full breasts. But Gretchen got
very annoyed with me if I disturbed her sleep.

What a curse it would be, rolling around on the bed, my cock
stiff and painful!

At first we still made love three times a week, with me eating
her out about six times. Once in a while I got a blowjob from
Gretchen, which she was quite good at. But then it cut down to
once or twice a week, and Gretchen was amused, and then
irritated by my sulkiness when I'd ask her, pleadingly, why she
only wanted cunnilingus.

One afternoon, I'd been scrubbing the bathroom floor, and
imploring Gretchen "C'mon dear, don't you think I want to make
love, too?"

Gretchen had laughed. At the time she was wearing a halter and
shorts, and I was working in only a long-underwear bottom.

"I get such a kick out of it when you roll around and moan on
the bed, and then when you go to the bathroom and jerk yourself
off." Gretchen had made an imitation of my light gasps, pants,
and "a... ahhh", which was an exaggeration of my orgasm.

"It's just so funny, Miles. You're like a fourteen year old,
still. "And there's nothing, NOTHING funnier than a man who's
pouting because he can't get any." Gretchen laughed. "You just
strut around looking miserable like you're going to have a
tantrum, and I'm just fascinated by that. I was telling some of
the guys on the film site about it, they thought it was
hilarious."

My face had burned as I continued the scrubbing. All the guys
Gretchen worked on her film projects with were tall athletic
types, and I was a short little banker. Several of them were ex-
lovers of my beautiful wife, and then there were the "guys" who
were beautiful girls who worked with Gretchen. Some were
actresses, some film strippers, and it was so humiliating that
she'd tell them that!

"Can't you keep our private problems in the house?" I'd asked.

"What problems, Miles?" asked Gretchen implacably. "I'm not
having any problems."

And neither was I after I began to come to terms with my desire
for servitude. The problem was, I thought, I just wanted it to
be a weekend thing... and Gretchen was very good at that.

WHACK WHACK THWACK!

"Ohhh!" I moaned after one of my early whippings. Gretch had
tied me over the arm of the sofa with my pants and shorts
huddling about my ankles, and she'd exercised a bamboo cane
she'd picked up at a flea market.

"What're you whining about, Miles?" Gretch had asked cheerily.
"This is your dream!"

WHACK WHACK SWAT!

"You wouldn't believe how your butt looks now, hon. You've got
all these purple marks all over your right cheek."

I'd turned with tear filled eyes to look at Gretchen in a snug
striped turtleneck, slapping the cane in her hand.

WHACK WHACK!

I'd burst into tears.

Gretchen had looked concerned and pulled me off the couch and
began stroking my bottom. Then she turned me around, pushing my
scorched butt against the sofa, and she began to pull on my
cock, which had lengthened.

"You want this, right, Miles?" Gretchen had breathed in my ear.
"God forbid I do the wrong thing by you."

I was biting my lip, trying not to sob further. "N-no Miss
Gretchen.. it's what I need!"

Gretchen had laughed. "Miss Gretchen, huh?" She'd stuck a wet
tongue in my ear and began toying with my cock all the more.

My hands were tied, of course, to keep from jumping away when
I'd gotten the caning, and now all I could do was writhe as
she'd stroked my bulging cock.

Gretchen had pulled and stroked my cock until I began feeling
the familiar pulsating at the base of my tortured penis, the
pull of the cum, which was now rising.

It had been several weeks since I'd had sex with Gretchen, and I
at that time was not a masturbator, having given that up after
college.

Gretchen had at this point become quite used to my oral
ministrations, and depended on these for her release. And she
had learned to make me go through all sorts of measures to "Get
me in the mood" to actually be allowed to stick my dick in her.

Gretchen's soft, beautiful fingers were now playing a lullaby on
my long-denied cock. And her other hand was squeezing and
pinching my bare bottom, welted as it was from the bamboo cane.

I was rather worried that our housemate might come home and
wonder about why my fully dressed, sexy wife was standing, and
stroking her hubby's cock while his pants and undies were down
on his Hush Puppies.

God, Gretchen's fingers were incredibly skilled.

"Having fun, baby?" Gretch's voice tinkled, and now she was
kissing my ear, her tongue exploring my sweating neck.

I gasped and my stolid erection began drooling excessive precum.
I was getting closer to release. Oh, to cum in her hand. I
wanted it so badly! My cock quivered as Gretch's long, purple
nails had tickled the vein crawling across the shaft.

"It's such a thick, burgundy vein, honey" Gretchen whispered.
"It almost matches the shade of my nails, but not quite.... but
I'll make the vein purple in time."

Oh, God, that voice. The way she could turn me into jelly! What
kind of a monster was I creating?

As Gretchen's forefinger moved back and forth across the vein,
her thumb tormented my frenum, and my balls felt leaden with
backed up spooge of several weeks!

"Are you excited, hon?" Gretch had asked me. "Do you like this?"

God, I was hotter than any sex experience previously... and I'd
once been with a Playboy Bunny! This was better than any
blowjob, any time a girl had let me take her from behind... I'd
just had my ass blistered, and now I didn't know if I was going
to be allowed to cum! Unbelievable!

Gretchen stopped for a moment. "I think you need to service me a
little, baby. You're having all the fun." Gretchen had then
pushed me to my knees and pulled up her white miniskirt. No
panties!

I'd gotten between her legs. "Gretch, undo my cuffs." I mumbled.
"I need my hands to pleasure you."

Gretchen laughed. "No you don't, just lick away. If I don't like
it, no more playing with Mr. Willy" she'd said.

On my bare knees, scraping the hardwood floor, I'd licked away
until Gretchen had experienced two shuddering orgasms... It had
taken about forty-five minutes...

Finally she'd dropped her skirt down and helped me up again, and
resumed her operations on my sweating, painful organ. I began
getting close to orgasm yet again...

"Your legs are shaking, honey... I think you're ready to have a
wet one, eh?" Gretchen laughed as she tongued my neck some more.
"I bet you believe you deserve it, because you've made me feel
so good, eh?"

I moaned, and my legs shook more and more. "Well, I hope you
liked your... oh... orgasms, Miss Gretchen," I had said
tactfully.

Gretchen had laughed deep in her throat... and all of a sudden I
felt very close. It was coming fast.

Damn! Gretchen now was slowing her masturbation a bit, and the
semen receded back to my balls. I relaxed, biting my lip and my
cock drooped a bit, and Gretch began stroking faster again,
pulling the frenulum. Watching Gretchen's lovely nails as they
played across my cock, I had begun getting more and more
excited.

Slam! The door to the kitchen opened and shut. My worst fears
were realized. It was Tom, our handsome housemate.

"Tell him you're busy in here, honey," I whispered to Gretchen
as she toyed with my organ."It's... just weird.. keep him out of
the room." I said again.

"Hey Tom!" Gretchen had shouted out, "What're you up to?"

Tom had strutted right into the living room. "Not much Gretchen,
what about you?" His eyebrows had risen as he viewed me with my
pants and undies down, my ravaged ass jiggling.

Gretchen let go of my cock and stepped away.

"What the hell's goin' on?" Tom had asked.

Gretchen had smiled and picked up the bamboo cane, waving it
about. "I'm just having a little kinky session with Milesy
here."

Tom laughed as Gretchen lashed my bare butt once or twice. He
watched me twist and bounce, my hands still cuffed. "This is so
weird, Miles." Tom laughed. "Gee, do any of the fellows know
about this?"

Gretchen laughed, too, and whacked me a couple more times.

"Jesus-please Gretchen," I begged, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I'll stop if you let me tongue kiss Tommy here," Gretchen
laughed.

I stood up indignantly. "Absolutely not."

WHACK WHACK WHACK!

Gretchen lay the cane about me a few times, and I began crying
heavily despite myself.

Tom was grinning from ear to ear.

"Whatever you want, honey.... but we're married!" I had pleaded
with her.

Gretchen had laughed and gone over and given Tom a big, tonguey
kiss...

Tom had ground his body against her as I stood, drawers down,
humiliated.

"I gotta go out, but we should do this again sometime!" Tom
laughed, and kissed Gretch again. "Don't be a bad boy there,
Milesy."

Gretchen grabbed my ear "Say yes sir, uncle Tom," She whispered
in my ear....

I gritted my teeth.

WHACK WHACK

My ass was roaring. "Y-yes sir, Uncle Tom!" I sobbed, and his
laugh was the last sound I heard.

Gretchen looked abashed. "Poor thing, you're not mad at Gretchie
are you-ums?" She kissed me deeply, and her soft fingers dropped
to my sweltering cock again, and she began pulling it gently.
"N-no, I just didn't want anyone to know... discretion and all
that."

Gretchen rubbed faster. "Oh, honey, discretion's not that
important... you're just a sissy-boy.... Tommy knows that. Why
do you think he has to do all the repairs around here... you're
not mechanically inclined, you say, but really, you're just a
sissy-boy!"

Gretchen's long nails moved faster and faster and my cock got
longer and harder. My legs wobbled again, and Gretchen's fingers
slowed down.

"Please go faster, honey," I begged.

Gretchen looked annoyed. "I'm not your honey..." she said. "I'm
Tommy's honey, maybe.. but you're just a wimpie boy, you know."

I looked at the floor, sad and abashed.

"Tell Mommy you want her to go faster," Gretchen whispered in my
ear.

And I begged, "Mommy, please go faster... please?"

Gretchen had smiled craftily, and nodded a bit, and the fingers
began wandering more rapidly across my cock.n My legs began
trembling as I approached orgasm... her fingers slowed again.

"Poor baby can't cum?" Gretchen asked unsuspiciously.

I shook my head and tears rolled down my cheeks. Gretchen
giggled softly and rubbed a bit faster. I felt the impact of the
backed up seed beginning once more to roll forth in my cock.
Closer and closer I was to release.

"Close your eyes, Miles," Gretch whispered in my ear. "I'm going
to give you a helluva surprise, baby, like you've never had."

I closed my eyes, bit my tongue and waited.

WHACK! THWACK!

Suddenly my cock felt incredible pain, as I felt a sliver of
fire through it, and I opened my eyes in abject horror. Gretchen
had taken up the cane again and was flailing at my cock!

WHACK WHACK THWACK!

I tried to back off from her, but it was difficult maintaining
my balance. My hands were secured behind my back and my pants
were clinging around my ankles. I dropped to my knees, and
finally the caning let up, Gretchen laughing, the stripes
jiggling on the top.

"Poor baby. Don't you think that's funny, Miles?" Gretch asked
as she helped me up.

At the end of that evening, Gretchen had removed the handcuffs,
and allowed me to fuck her, though I hadn't been allowed to cum
until she'd released three times. And although my butt was
horribly sore, and I was unable to look Tom the housemate in the
eye for many months, I had had to admit to myself that it was
one of the hottest experiences I'd ever had.

As time went on, Gretchen gradually began to take over. She did
less and less around the house, and I was expected to pick up
the slack. My pants and underwear began being taken down
regularly, if there were marks on the baseboard or streaks on
the windows. Once, when I'd neglected to scrub out the garbage
pail, Gretchen tied me naked to a ceiling loop on the back
porch. I was shuddering, wondering if the teenage girls next
door might happen to peer over the fence!

Gretchen and I had traditional sex less and less. If I wanted to
get into her pants, it became more and more of a reward.

"I don't know, I'm just not that attracted to you... and you're
too grabby," Gretchen had begun telling me. She spent less and
less time in states of undress in the house. Gretchen still, of
course wore tight clothes and cute little bustiers ("The guys at
work dig it, you know, Milesy.") But didn't undress around me
much, except that I was allowed to eat her out late at night.
Still, she was teasing me beyond belief, twitching her full
round buttocks across my crotch as she passed me while I was
making dinner, or kissing my neck casually now and then.

I began to beg her for sex. "I just am so horny, honey." I
begged. "I mean, I work all day for you, and when I come home I
want a little relief, you know?"

Gretchen had laughed. "But you understand, Miles, that after
people have been married a while, sex stops being the prime
focus of the relationship."

We had been married for nine months.

One night I was watching Gretchen paint her nails in the living
room. Clad in a casual tube top and tight jeans, she was
mesmerized by the frosty pink she was pouring all over her long
talons, and I was gaping at her. The more we didn't fuck, it
seemed the more beautiful Gretchen was.

She looked up at me. "What's wrong, honey?" Gretchen asked.

"W.. well, it's been such a long time since.. since we had um,
relations." I said.

"I know," Gretchen had laughed. "I don't really feel that way
about you right now, Milesy." She turned to her frosty pink nail
polish.

I bit my lip. Goddamnit. When I was in high school and college
there were plenty of girls who'd told me they didn't feel that
way about me.. but I was married to this girl! What the hell was
that?

"Gretchen, please." I moved a little closer to her. "It's been
nearly five weeks since we made love. I try to be a good hubby
to you, and we have something special." I was babbling. I
sounded like a Partridge Family album or something..

Gretchen had looked up at me again, amusedly. "You're that
horny, huh?" she asked, smiling.

"Yes, please let me touch you, Gretchen." I pleaded. "Not even
oral sex.. I mean, you don't have to suck me but..."

Gretchen's brow furrowed. "I know I don't have to suck you, or
blow you, you fucking asshole. How dare you imply that I'd ever
have to?" Gretchen had turned then to her nails and gritted her
teeth.

Oh shit, what was I going to do? I couldn't alienate her. "No,
please, Gretchen, I didn't mean it that way" I begged. "I just
want to make love to you, because I'm so horny.... Don't you
want to take your clothes off and make gentle love, like we used
to?" I was babbling at this point.

Gretchen had turned to me again. She toyed with her hair, and
looked me in the eye in that sort of limpid way she used to.

I grinned feebly at her.

Gretch put down her nail polish brush and began toying casually
with her nipple through the tube top.

I stared as if hypnotized.

"God all this attention is so flattering, Milesy." Gretch said,
running a long pink tongue across her full lips.

The door opened and Tom walked in, and headed for the stairs.
"Hey, Gretch, Miles. How're you doing?"

"I'm trying to decide if I'm going to give Miles any action."
Gretchen laughed lightly. "He's begging me again... remember
last night, all the crying?"

Tom laughed, and my face burned. His bedroom was right next to
ours.

It was true, I had been sobbing because Gretchen had not let me
touch her that evening, and oh, how cute she'd looked in her
Merry Widow!

Tom had winked at Gretchen. "Good luck, Miles!" He went
upstairs.

"I wish you wouldn't tell him our business dear." I said feebly,
but I knew it was no use. I really should've gotten Tom to leave
some time ago.

In the beginning I'd enjoyed having my old college roommate
living with us. Tom had a minor construction job as opposed to
my fabulously remunerative investment banking career, and it was
great to give him a low rent. But now that Gretchen was here, it
seemed that there was something weird going on between them,
though I couldn't figure out what it was at the time.

"Poor Miles" Gretchen said now to me. "You need a little
attention, and I need a little entertainment. We each have to
give a little."

That sounded good, I thought, biting my lip.

"Why don't you take your clothes off?"

My eyebrows raised. "Here in the living room?" I smiled shakily.
"Let's get upstairs, huh?"

Gretchen laughed. "No, let's get wild here in the living room,
take off your clothes, won't you?"

I excitedly stripped off everything, and stood in front of her,
grinning unsteadily, with my cock poking straight out in front
of me.

"Get me a drink, babe."

I ran and got her a gin and tonic, and came back with my big
grin.

Gretchen burst into laughter. "God you look like a porno version
of Howdy Doody." She took the drink from my hand and sipped it.
Gretchen casually put out a long leg and used her clog to poke
my cock.

The wood was cold against my rock hard cock and I gasped. Oh, I
was so horny. "Gretchen honey, lets go upstairs and get it on,
in the bedroom. I don't want people to..."

As if to give reality to my fear, Tom came down the stairs. He
saw me standing naked as Gretchen was playing with my dick with
her shoe. Bursting into laughter, Tom shook his head, and went
on his way through the kitchen.

"Oh God." I bit my tongue. I got mad then. "You know, Gretchen,
we should have the house to ourselves... so we can play around
in the house naked. I'm going to tell Tom to move out next
month."

Gretchen moved her clog back and then lightly kicked me in the
balls.

I moaned.

"Don't do that, Miles." Gretchen said sharply. "I like Tommy
around... it's good energy for me."

What the hell did that mean?

"But anyway... you want to be more attractive to me, do you
Miles?"

I nodded my head, suddenly totally aware of my nakedness and my
potbelly.

"Whatever you think, dear." Gretchen toyed again with my cock,
now glistening with precum. Her clog pushed lightly against the
scrotal sack that she'd just kicked so violently. "I want you to
do something interesting for me... make me amused, honey."
Gretchen said casually. "How about you paint your nails with my
nail polish?"

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