The Offer - A crossdresser is offered the answer to all his problems

This is the whole story. I have edited out all the mistakes I could find and
finally written the last chapter. It does have sex scenes in it.

She lay on her side, in their queen size bed. She gazed at the clock,
5.30 A.M. She would have 30 minutes to relax before she got up and made
Ron's breakfast.

She just started to doze off when she felt his arm reach round. His hand
rested on her right breast and his fingers gently rubbed her nipple
through the short filmy black baby-doll. He slid across the bed to spoon
her. She felt his hardness pushing against the back of her knickers.

"I know what comes next," she thought. His other hand rubbed her ruffled
panties a few times, then pulled them down a little to expose her
bottom. His hand gripped her right buttock and squeezed. She could hear
his breathing become deeper and harder. It wasn't the only thing getting
harder.

His index finger slipped inside easily. She was still wet from last
night, he had been very enthusiastic, she was surprised he was still
horny after only 5 hours.

It had been the anniversary of her moving in, he had bought home the
baby-doll and some flowers.

She had dressed in a 50's style flower print dress. She wore a tight,
white panty-girdle, a bullet bra and a frilly net petticoat. The
petticoat held the dress away from her legs and tickled as she flitted
around the kitchen.

When he arrived home he had seen her in the kitchen bending over to
check the oven. He had whistled when he saw the sea of frothy lace
beneath her skirt. He couldn't resist her.

As she went to the sink he ran his hands all over her body exploring her
bottom and finishing on her breasts.

"Come on, save it for later, or the dinner will be ruined," she had said.

She had him cooked his favourite dinner of roast lamb. After dinner they
sat and watched T.V. His arms were around her shoulders pulling her to
his eager mouth. He had placed her hand on the bulge in his trousers.
After a few minutes of rubbing she opened his fly.

Within seconds her hand enclosed his hard member. She saw her hand with
it's pink polished nails sliding up and down his cock. He slowly pushed
her off the sofa and onto the floor. She arranged her skirt and got
between his legs. Using the tip of her tongue and traced the length of
his cock. When she got to the top she engulfed him. She knew how to use
her tongue to bring him to a quick climax.

He looked down and saw her ruby red lips around his cock, the white heels,
seamed stocking disappearing into the white lace. "Perfect," he
thought.

He could hold on no longer. She felt him swelling, then he exploded.

Ron let out a sigh, "thanks that was beautiful, like you." He helped her
to her feet, she nearly stumbled as her heel caught on the carpet. Ron
liked to see her in heels even in their house. He caught her in his
strong arms and said "You have got me so turned on, I want to finish
this upstairs." He carried her to the bedroom. She was 5ft 7, he was 6ft
4. His large imposing frame was one of the things that had first
attracted her when she saw him on the dating site. He made her feel
small and feminine.

"I'm not finished with you yet honey, that was just a warm up."

"What about the washing up?" she said.

"It will still be there in the morning dear, you are such a house proud
wife"

They both showered and got ready for bed. She changed into the baby-
doll. He was ready and standing to attention when she came out of the
bathroom. She took her time and teased him until he could stand it no
more and roughly pushed her onto her back.

He took total control and pulled her legs up and apart. Her backside
came into contact with his hard member. He positioned her legs over his
shoulders and worked the back of the lacy knickers up her legs a little
and slowly pushed into her. She let out a soft moan as he smoothly slid
in.

She had made sure she was properly "lubricated" before she came to bed. At
first he was gentle, but slowly built to a frenzy. She felt his cock
expands and pump its warm fluid deep inside. They lay together panting,
then drifted off to sleep.

That was last night, now he just wanted a quickie.

He pushed her onto her front and straddled her. He lined himself up and
slid in smoothly. She let out a small yelp. It still hurt when he went
all the way in that quickly. She felt her small cock rub against the
front of her knickers.

She knew this would not be enough to make her come. Ron did not like it
when she touched herself there. He only liked "gurls", but he did not
like playing with their "extra bits." Occasionally he run his hand over
her crotch just to make sure it was there, but nothing more.

She thought Ron's major turn on was forcing a man act and live like a
woman, this is what really drove him. He always made sure her underwear
covered her "front."

He built up a rhythm, they we both bouncing faster as he piled into her.
She enjoyed his attentions, but missed being able to come during sex.
This is what a good wife does, she thought please her husband. He
certainly sounded pleased as he released inside her.

She wondered how many real women went through this. How many used the
washing machine or a vibrator to orgasm when hubby was at work.

She may get time when alone later to take care of her needs.

"You stay there and relax, I'll grab breakfast on my way to work," he
said heading for the shower. Later he kissed her goodbye and headed out.

She lay there and dozed off for an hour. When she woke she stripped the
baby-doll off. Those knickers are going to need a soak she thought, as
she ran her bath.

She looked at her body in the mirror. Her shoulder length ginger hair, a
very expensive wig, glued to her head. The glue lasted at least 3
months. Ron paid for it, he had a thing for red heads. She saw the swell
of her small breasts, only an B cup really. She had been taking the
black market female hormones for a year now. Her hips had put on extra
fat, and her skin had softened. Even her face seemed more female now.
She rarely got any strange looks while shopping now.

Her small 3-inch penis and shrivelled sack looked wrong. She asked Ron
about "going all the way." Ron said, "If you want that you can leave."
He did offer to pay for breast implants though.

What Ron wanted he got. When he offered her dream of being a
housewife, she never realized how life changing it would be. She had
been a crossdresser all her life. Her wife left because of it. Her
fantasy was to be what she saw as the pinnacle of femininity, a
submissive housewife. Looking and dressing pretty at all times for her
"man."

She met with Ron, and after 2 dates and a long weekend, he had asked her to
move in. She was broke and living in a bedsit. Her divorce had cleaned
her out. So Ron's offer was the perfect solution. Live full time as a
woman, no bills, and Ron would help her become what she dreamed of
being.

The offer, became real when Ron helped her move. He made her throw all
her male clothes and belongings away. All she had was her female clothes
and what she was dressed in. Back at Ron's flat he made her change and
threw her last male clothes away.

They both sat down and spent the rest of the day ordering corsets,
lingerie, dresses, skirts tops, makeup and shoes. Well it was all Ron's
choices really. No leggings or trousers. No tights., stockings only.
Shoes and boots with at least 3 inch heels. She realized what she was in
for when he started looking at 1950's clothing. He ordered girdles and
bullet bra's, and petticoats. He even ordered a French maids outfit and
a nurse’s uniform. He had been looking at school girl and show girl
outfits recently. She knew these would be introduced to their bedroom
"games," soon.

As she let the warm water of the bath wake her up, she thought about what
she would be doing today. Cleaning, dusting, washing, ironing, cooking
and shopping.

She slowly dressed, a black basque and silk French knickers. Black
stockings and ankle boots. Then a dark brown knee length dress. After
her makeup, she finished her look off with dark blue silk scarf.

She went to the kitchen and stated the washing up. Then it struck her,
the reality of the offer. She was trapped, she had no money, no where
else to live, not even any men's clothes.

She was trapped in a life of makeup, high heels, perfume, women's
magazines, washing, cleaning and getting used by her husband for sex
whenever or however he chose.

She used to worry about wages, bills, promotion, cars and hair loss. Now
her worries were what to cook for dinner, what to wear, ladders in
stockings or chipping a nail.

As she walked about the flat getting ready to walk to the shop, she
wondered if the offer was worth it. Giving up all she had as a guy for
this like.

Walking to the shop she felt her silk knickers caress her cock and
backside as she moved She felt her suspenders tug against her stockings,
smelt her perfume and heard the click of her heels. She felt so
sensual.
Men don't get to feel this!

As she passed a building site, she was wolf whistled. Then she thought,
"Was the offer worth it?" "You bet your bloody life it was!" She smiled,
she loved her new life.

Part 2 Shopping and Spanking

As she approached the supermarket she felt a tightness in her chest.
Fear still gripped her every time she entered a place full of people.
She was confident of being out when she walked past and only got looked
at briefly, but inside when people had more time to look she was in fear
of being "read."

She hitched her handbag back over her shoulder and took a trolley and
went through the sliding door.

It was 10A.M., the shop was not too busy, mostly housewives shopping and a few older men.

In the enclosed space she could smell her perfume "Charlie", she hoped
she hadn't overdone it.

She was not dressed like a tart or a drag queen, just nice and normal.
Not slobbish as many women dress now when shopping. She hoped she did
not stand out.

As she went through the isles she picked up the vegetables and
ingredients she would need for a boeuf bourguignon. She noticed one of
the older male shoppers was looking at her legs, you could not see much
of them, as her boots were knee length as was her skirt.

She was wearing a white slip, the lace edge showed sometimes as she
walked. She loved this look, when she was younger she would lust after
Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac, when she used to dress this way.

She decided to give him a show, she bent over at the waist to pick a tin
from a low shelf, her skirt rose up at the back, giving him a nice view
of her seamed stockings framed in the white silk and lace of her slip.

She looked back over her shoulder and the man, eyes wide quickly turned
away, his face growing red.

Oh this felt so naughty, this was another thing that she could never do
as a guy.

She arrived at the clothing isle. She always got a thrill looking at the
underwear section. She used to glance at it when she was a man. Now she
could stand there and feel the fabric and hold them up and inspect
them.

There was a younger woman looking at bras. She saw they had a new range
of lace knickers in. They were in red, white and black. She knew she
would have to get the black ones. Ron loved her in black undies. She
felt the lace material, it was fairly soft. She had some lace underwear
that was cheap and scratchy. These were much nicer.

The young lady said, "Excuse me," and smiled as she pushed past. No
trace of surprise or hostility. She had passed a "close encounter." This
filled her with confidence and made her feel more relaxed.

She needed the toilet, so she left her trolley outside and pushed the
door open. Using women's toilets were another source of fear, even after
a year of doing it. Of the 3 stalls, 1 was occupied. She went to the
far
one. She hung her handbag over the hook, raised her skirt and lowered
her knickers down to her knees.

As she sat she could hear the woman in the other stall start to
"tinkle." As her plumbing was different she used to fear that she would
get noticed as she did not quite make the same sound as a "real" woman
did peeing.

She made sure she wiped, and carefully made sure no lumps showed in her
knickers before she dropped her skirt. After flushing she washed her
hands as the woman from the other stall was there brushing her hair.

"Bloody windy out there today," the woman said.

"Yes, I know, the wrong day to wear a skirt," she said.

"Looks nice though, I love your look," the woman said.

"Thank, must rush," she said, and exited the toilet feeling wonderful.

As she waited at in line at the checkout she looked around at the other
women. Dressed in a mixture of ways. The younger ones in leggings, the
older in dresses or slacks.

She was just like them, just another woman shopping.

Doing this made her aware again of her clothing. As she shifted from one
foot to another, she felt her smooth stockings on her feet. Much nicer
than socks. She was aware of the lace edge of her silk knickers slightly
tickling her thighs. Did all the other women feel this way?

Arriving home 20 minutes later she put the shopping away and started
preparing the meal.

Ron came home while she was chopping vegetables. He put his right arm on
her right breast, while his left caressed he buttocks.

"Come on Debbie, upstairs now! I've been think about fucking you all
day."

"Not bloody now, I'm half way through making dinner!" she said as she
pulled away.

She hated when he got like this, normally she felt quite submissive, but
she felt moody today.

"What did you say to me!" he shouted at her.

She froze, he had rarely ever shouted at her. He yanked her out of the
kitchen and into the living room and pushed her onto the sofa.

She started to tear up. "S-s-sorry."

"No, you don't ever talk to me like that. I don't know if it's the
hormones, but you need to learn who is in charge in this house."

He sat next to her and dragged her over his lap.

"Don't you dare move!"

She felt him raise her skirt, his hand rubbing her buttocks through the
silk knickers. She felt his hard cock push into her stomach.

"Who pays for this lovely underwear?"

Slap

"You do."

Slap

These were not play slap this was a real spanking, she started to sob.

"Who makes all the decisions?"

Slap

"Y-you do."

Slap

"How wears the pants?"

Slap

"You wear the p-pants."

Slap

"What do you wear?"

He paused waiting for her answer.

"I wear f-frilly knickers, panties."

"So who is in charge? Who is the man of the house and who is the housewife?"

"You're the man Ron, I'm the housewife. You are in charge."

She could feel he was rock hard, this had really turned him on. She
hoped it did not become an a regular "thing."

"Upstairs now!" he said.

She hurried upstairs, with Ron close behind.

She started to get undressed, but he said, "No leave it, get on the
bed."

This was not going to be love making, he was so turned on he was going
to just fuck her.

He removed his underwear and his erection looked even larger than
normal. She panicked when she thought he was going to use her "dry."

Ron reached in the draw for the lubrication, squeezed a dollop on his
hand and coated his cock. He then grabbed both heels of her boots and
pulled them high and wide, exposing her French knickers.

Without pausing he thrust into her through the leg hole of her knickers.
"Ooohhhh," she screamed, it hurt, she normally was lubricated and ready,
This was just him desperate to fuck her.

Ron drew back and pounded hard again. "Uhhh," she let out a cry. Then
Ron started to get into a rhythm. He pushed her legs over his shoulders
as he pounded her. She looked in his eyes, he was looking at her
intently. This was pure dominance showing her who was in charge.

As he sped up she felt something she had never felt before, looking at
her legs in her stockings and high heeled boots, wiggling as he drove
into her. She felt something building and spreading.

She came for the first time in her life without touching her cock!. Ron
grunted and she felt him come inside her. He collapsed on top of her.

"I'm hungry, go and put the dinner on," he said.

"I'll just change," she said.

"No you just go as you are."

"Yes Ron, you're the boss."

On shaky legs she slowly went back to the kitchen. As she prepared the
food she could feel Ron's sperm dripping down her legs. She felt
satisfied, wanted, but abused?

She wondered as she stirred the stock, how many of the other women in
the supermarket were feeling like this now?

Part 3 A Woman's Reality?

That night in bed, he was energetic with her again. She lay there,
feeling sorry for herself and sore.

"I can see I'm going to have to remind you what you are" he said, as he
rolled off her and dozed off.

She lay awake wondering what he meant.

In the morning it was business as usual. She got up, had a quick shower,
redid her makeup and got his breakfast and coffee. As he was about to
leave she asked what he wanted for dinner tonight. Ron had said not to
worry as he was taking her to the pub for dinner. He had kissed her and
left.

She stood there with her heart pounding. She was still not secure in her
role as a woman. It was one thing going to a supermarket, but a pub full
of men and women, scrutinizing her...

She felt as though she was about to have a panic attack. She knew she
would have to try very hard. She could not go overboard with her look;
the makeup would have to be enough to make her look feminine, but not
enough to look over the top. Her clothes would have to look "nice", but
not too sexy.

Later that afternoon Ron rang her.

"Be ready when I get home, I know how long you bloody women take to get
ready. Probably takes you an hour to decide which nail polish to use."
he laughed, " be ready to go when I get back at six".

She decided on a black corset-style basque. She needed to help her
figure as much as she could. She wore her tight black lace knickers, and
barely-black stockings. It was warm, a little hot for stockings, but she
hated the freckles on her legs and did not want to draw attention to
them.

Next came the black summer dress. It covered her shoulders and ended in
cap sleeves. It had a double skirt. It almost reminded her of the Ra-Ra
skirts she used to be so jealous of when she saw girls wearing them
growing up.

Lastly she put on her black 3 inch, open-toed strappy sandals. Sandals
with stockings? A fashion no-no? Sometimes she hated that she had to
think about stuff like this.

An hour later Ron walked through the front door. He ran straight
upstairs and came down after just changing his shirt for a tee-shirt.
What the hell, she though. It took me 2 hours to get ready, and he took
5 minutes.

"Come on woman, get that cute little arse into the car." he said,
leaving her to lock up.

She nearly forgot her handbag and had to go back to get it.

Ron waited impatiently with the door open. As she bent to put her bag on
the floor, she felt a hard slap on her bottom.

"Owww" She turned round, furious.

"Stop moaning, you know you love it" Ron said, winking at her.

A passing stranger laughed out loud. She was flushed with anger, not
that it would show under her makeup.

They drove to their local Harvester and tried to find a parking space.
After a short while they gave up and had to park nearly half a mile away
in a multi-storey.

"Come on Debbie, keep up" She was trotting behind him try to keep pace
with his large easy stride.

She heard her heels clip-clopping and worried about tripping. If she
fell her stockings would be ruined! If she broke into sweat her makeup
would be ruined.

Before she had agreed to live full time, she would never have thought
about all these problems women have just trying to stay looking nice.

Ron took her hand and practically dragged her along the street.

"What's the hurry?" she said.

"We're meeting Dave at 6.30" said Ron.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. She had briefly meet Dave
before. He was typical "lad" a sexist pig.

The prospect of an evening in his company, was appalling. Would he
"read" her?

When they arrived she was "glowing”. Ladies glowed, men sweated she
thought ironically.

"I need the Ladies please" she said to the waiter, as he showed them to
their table.

She glanced at Dave, who was already sitting down, He leered at her. She
thought she would like to punch him in his smug face, but ladies didn't
do that sort of thing, did they? Instead she just hurried off to the toilet.

She heard the tell-tale tinkle from one of the cubicles. Rather than
engage in conversation, she thought, she would have a quick tinkle
herself. She waited until she heard the door close and went out to
wash her hands and fix her makeup. The room was carpeted and smelled
fairly fresh.

That was one thing she did not miss. Men's toilets often stank. Some
guys seemed to not care where they sprayed. Typical men, she giggled.
Her mood improved as she saw her reflection; she saw an average-to-
pretty woman looking back. No trace of "guy" here.

As she moved towards the table, Dave and Ron stood, a nice gesture, she
thought. Dave leant in and kissed her, his hand doing a quick grope of
her right arse cheek and leg. Ron was sitting back down as this
happened, so missed it.

Dave sat and winked at her. After a few minutes of polite meaningless
conversation the waiter arrived.

"What would you like to drink?"

She started to answer, but Ron spoke over her.

"A pint of bitter for me, cider for Dave and she'll have a dry white
wine"

Inside she was fuming. Did she not matter? Was she so useless she who could
not be trusted to order her own drink?

It got worse as he took the food order. Dave and Ron had steak, and Ron
ordered a salad for her.

"Got to watch her figure, or I'll have to trade her in for a younger
model"

The waiter smiled awkwardly and left.

Dave smiled and said "I'll watch her figure if you like, you're a lucky
man, Ron"

"Yes, she scrubs up well"

This made her feel worse; she thought Dave cared for her. Now with
another guy around, she just felt like a piece of property.

The subject turned to football. Dave said " What do you think of
England's chance in the Euros?"

She could not help herself- as a guy she was an avid football fan. She
did still follow the results, just not when Ron was around.

"I think if they keep rotating the squad it should keep the players
fresh for the harder games." she said.

They both stared at her, then burst out laughing.

"Rotating the squad, do you think they are ballet dancers spinning
around?" Dave said.

"Women! Ha!" Ron looked at her and grinned. "If we want an opinion on
knitting, we will ask for it, babe. What do women know about football?"
then blew her a kiss.

So not only was she seen as a child, her opinions counted for nothing.
She thought back to the woefully few dates she had as a man. She did
treat her dates in the same way to some extent. Her only thought then
was the quickest way into their knickers.

Now she was the one in the knickers. She saw it all from the other side
of the fence now.

The waiter brought the food and drink and the conversation paused.
Mostly she was ignored. She thought she was just there to look pretty,
an ornament to show off to Dave.

Ron stood and said "I'll get us another round, I'm not waiting for that
slow bloody waiter"

She was alone with Dave. He reached under the table and rubbed her upper
thigh.

"Oh, wow, suspenders. I love a woman in stockings they frame the bit
you want to get to perfectly"

He would be in for a shock if he saw what my stockings framed, she
thought.

"Please take your hands off me, Dave" she said, a little too loudly.

His hand was removed quickly; he looked around to see if Ron had heard.

"I'm sorry, but I find you so sexy. If you get tired of Ron give me a
call"

Trying to steal his friend's woman, he really was a piece of work.

Ron returned with the drinks; another dry white wine for her. She really
liked the look of Ron's pint. That was out of the question though. She
was stuck with little feminine drinks.

She sat and listened to their conversation about work. She had no
interest in that. She felt the breeze from the open door lift the hem of
her skirt. She quickly pushed it down and wriggled in her seat. Her
stockings rubbed together and made a zipping sound.

Dave stopped talking and glanced over as Ron got up and went to pay the
bill at the bar.

Debbie stood, turned away from Dave and deliberately bent at the waist
thrusting her bottom towards him. As she turned she saw him sit quickly
and fiddle with the front of his trousers.

She was ignored and treated like a child, yet she had the power to turn
him into a slobbering idiot. What a strange feeling this was.
Powerless, yet powerful.

"Come on babe, we have a long walk back to the car - or a long trot for
you." Ron said.

"I'll give you a lift if you want, I'm parked in the car park here" said
Dave.

"Thanks Dave, not sure if the old girl's ankles could stand the walk,
she's such a delicate little thing"

Dave had a two door car, and they made Debbie get into the back. They
arrived at the car park in a few minutes. Both the men got out and
started chatting as Debbie struggled to push the front seat out of the
way while holding her handbag.

Her heel caught in the seatbelt and she fell forward, exposing herself
completely. She quickly covered her knickers with her dress. Had Dave
seen? She was well tucked, but she couldn't be sure.

Dave helped her to her feet. Ron just laughed and said "are you a
drunk, woman? I had better get you home before you make a fool of
yourself, or did you want to give Dave a flash?"

"You're a lucky man, Ron, my ex would never wear stockings for me"

"She never wears tights mate; I don't let her."

"As I said mate, you are a lucky bastard"

"OK Dave, cheers for the lift, I'd better get her home and give her a
good seeing to". Ron winked at Dave and they both climbed into Ron's
car.

As they drove home Debbie wondered, do most women put up with this crap,
or is it they don't realise? After all, she had been on both sides, so
she could see how unfair it could be.

Then again, she loved the power she could exert over men. She got a
thrill when Ron dominated her. She felt so weak, but safe in his arms.
She was so confused.

Perhaps she would feel better after she had had a "good seeing to"

Debbie sat in silence on the drive home. Ron had angered her and she
didn't know why he treated her like that. She thought Ron had drunk a
little too much to be driving, but knew he would bite her head off if she
said something.

Ron was first to break the silence.

"You know what? I think I want to fuck my maid tonight. Is that OK with
you sugar tits?"

More insults she thought. He liked her to dress sometimes for sex. The
maids costume was one of many he had ordered over the last year. She
hadn't worn it for him yet.

She had tried it on. It was a knee length black satin dress with puffy
lace trimmed sleeves. It was good quality, not the usual sex shop stuff.
It came with a full lace apron and cap. The main thing she liked was the
full net petticoat.

She had a nice pair of white ruffled knickers to go with it. She had always liked these. They looked like the tennis knickers women used to wear. She remembered watching women playing tennis years ago. Many wore these sorts of knickers. She had alw

"Please don't call me that," she said.

"OK babe, sorry, but the thought of you wearing that outfit is getting me
hard now. I'll have to think of something else, or we will have to pull
over and you will have to take care of me.”

She hated the way she was at his beck and call for sex. Often she was
left unfulfilled. She took care of her needs when he wasn't around. Then
again she found idea of being subservient to a man a big turn on. Why did
she crave this?

When they arrived home Ron didn’t bother to open the door for her. She got to the living room he had kicked off his shoes and was watching TV. She went to sit next to him.

“Don’t sit down, I want to meet my maid. I told you that.”

“What now!”

“Yes now, and make me a coffee before you come back in here.”

Up in their bedroom she found the dress and all the accoutrements. She stripped completely. First came the black corset. It laced at the front and had lace around the bra cups and edges. Then she slipped into the black stockings. When she pulled up the frothy, white, nylon knickers, she ran her hands over her backside.

She looked so dammed sexy. She felt herself growing. No time for that now she thought. Next she stepped into the explosion of lace and frills that was the petticoat that came with the uniform. The uniform itself came last. It was a classic French maids dress, made of black satin, it finished a few inches up from the knee. The high collar, sleeves and hem were edged in lace. The skirt was held out around a foot all around by the petticoat.

She noticed every time she moved it rustled. Putting on her 6 inch heeled court shoes proved challenging. She would have to be very careful going down stairs, as she had no way of seeing her feet.

In the kitchen she put the percolator on and waited to make him a coffee. She thought about instant, but knew he would complain. As she moved she reveled in the feeling from the clothes. The suspender straps pulled against stockings as she moved. The petticoat tickled her thighs. She was getting so turned on. She had fantasies about dressing as a maid, but would never had the money to buy an outfit like this.
She put everything on a tray and took it into Ron.

“Oh thank you Fifi. Put it on the table and go and stand next to the window."

Fifi? She thought. Is that it? He wants me to act as a real maid called Fifi?

“Ah, Oui monsieur.”

He looked surprised by her answer. His eyes followed her as she moved across the room. She waited in silence while he drank his coffee.
“Very good Fifi. Now come here and stand in front of me.”

She rustled across the room and stood arms-length away from him.

“Now lift your dress up.”

She lifted the petticoat and dress to reveal her frilly knickers. Ron gently rubbed the lace on the front. She tried hard not get excited. He wouldn’t like that.

“Turn around and bend over.”

As she bent, she felt her dress and petticoat flick over her back. Both his hands caressed her buttocks through her knickers. After a minute her said.

“Right now get on your knees between my legs and look at what you’ve done to me.”

She saw the bulge straining at his fly. She undid his belt and trousers and his cock sprang up into her face. He groaned as took the tip into her mouth. She felt his hand pushing her further down. She pushed them away.

“Please let me do this at my own pace. If you make me sick, the last thing you’re going to want is sex.”

He was taken aback. She never normally talked back to him. She was right though. He was very turned on, and wanted to enjoy this.
She used her mouth until he was groaning and swearing.

“Sexy bitch, you fucking whore. Yeah, suck that dick bitch.”

It was always a turn on when he talked to like that. She had realized long ago, that she had a masochistic streak. She sped up and his breath came in short gasps.

“Stop! I want to finish inside you. Go and bend over the dining table.”

He helped her to her feet and roughly shoved her face down onto the table. She felt her dress raise and her knickers being pulled down to her knees. Without delay he shoved himself inside. She had prepared herself. It still hurt a little though. He was not being gentle. He slammed into her so hard that the table moved across the floor slightly with each stroke.

“Oh god, yes!”

He erupted inside her. She felt his weight as he collapsed on her back.

“That was intense babe. Come and sit with me.”

She really needed to clean up, but she needed to feel some intimacy. She down sat next to Ron, his arm went around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. He kissed her cheek.

“I do love you baby. I’m sorry if I treat you like crap sometimes, but I know you enjoy it. Deep down, you know you need it.”

She thought about. Was he right? Was this what she wanted. Was she kidding herself that she wanted to be a loving wife, with a thoughtful loving husband?

“If I treated you well, you’d be bored and leave me in a few months. You enjoy the feeling of being trapped, being forced, don’t you?”

She looked at him. Recently she thought he had been a thoughtless bastard. Was he really just giving her what he thought she wanted? She wasn’t even sure herself. She had to admit, she loved the feeling of being trapped in the life of a woman, a housewife, waiting for her man to come home and take her. Maybe he was right, maybe she knew this was what she wanted when she accepted the offer.