Leering

 

"You're leering, sweetie," my wife said when she saw me staring at her as she fastened her lace bra.

"I...I'm sorry," I quickly apologized, lowering my gaze. I looked up and met her eyes. "You just...you look so pretty," I said, lowering my gaze again.

"You think so? I hope he likes it, I wasn't sure," she said, "I didn't know if it was too much."

I took her comment as an invitation, eyed her body from her black heels, her black sheer stockings held up by the lace garter belt, the sheer panties through which I could see her freshly trimmed hair, to her pert breasts filling the lace bra. It was almost too much to take in and as much as I tried to avoid it, I felt my penis swell in the small cage and grimaced.

She saw my face and bit her lip. "Honey," she said.

"I know," I said.

"That's why you're not supposed to leer," she said, "you know you start having improper thoughts."

"I...I'm sorry," I said. "I just...I thought...I mean...when we met him, I guess I didn't think..."

"He was honest when we met him," she said.

*****

She wasn't wrong, from the moment we started talking to him he was clear that if we became involved with him there would be distinct roles, that sex would be his domain, not mine. I accepted that assuming he was being hyperbolic or, at a minimum, that as a married couple, he'd allow some indulgences. 

But he wasn't being hyperbolic, not at all. Four weeks after she started seeing him, my wife and I had a dinner date, drank some wine, and ended up 'messing around' and having sex. When he found out (apparently she tells him everything) texted me and told me to meet him for lunch the next day.

I met him at his club; he had a drink ordered for each of us and next to mine was a box with a ribbon on it. "What's this?" I asked.

"I was clear when we met," he said, "there are roles and you overstepped yours. That is to make sure that never happens again."

I was confused, opened the box, gasped when I saw what was inside. "This...this is..."

"The consequences of overstepping," he said. 

"But..."

"This isn't a discussion," he glared at me. "Your wife measured you when you were sleeping, this is the proper size. It's the second smallest size, but you're fairly small, as I understand it. You have two choices,. First, get up, go the restroom, put that on, lock it, and bring me the key or second, this is done and I find another couple."

"But...but I..."

"Make a choice," he said.

"May...may I ask a question?" I said.

"You may," he nodded.

"For...for how long...I mean...a week...longer?"

"Indefinitely," he said, looking at his watch. "It should take you about ten minutes; at 12:15, I'm leaving, I have a meeting at 1. I'm either leaving with the key, in which case I'll see your wife on Saturday, or I'm leaving without it, in which case, well, good luck."

*****

"He was," I answered her. "Honest."

"Are you going to wait up?" she asked.

I swallowed, nodded, my face red. Wait up to go down on her, to lick her clean. I hated it and loved it; she just loved it. 

"You're a doll," she said. "Such a doll."