100%

Marie’s Submissive Year – wk 1 to 4

Marie’s Submissive Year
Weeks 1-4 – Chicago

———————
WARNING and DISCLAIMER: This story outlines the travels of a middle-aged wife who decided to spent a year exploring her long-repressed submissive side. Her husband and her best friend subject her to the worst kinds of depravities during a year-old international junket. If you don’t like that kind of thing, please go read something else and don’t leave feedback here about how horrible and disgusting the story is. It’s fiction and it’s supposed to be.
———————
John looked at his watch. Nearly noon. Lora would be at Hyatt, waiting in the lounge for him. He looked around his desk, everything was in order. The revisions on the outgoing briefs were marked and stacked, his IN box was, for the first time in years, clean. He’d offloaded most of his workload to two of the other firms in town and hadn’t taken on any new work since Marie lost her job three weeks ago. They didn’t know what they were going to do, but they’d always talked about traveling the world if they had the opportunity. Maybe this was it.
He shook his head. Right. As if this was “it”. Lora didn’t think so.
But then, Lora was insane. Or, to put it politely, she lived ‘outside the box’.
His phone rang and he took a quick call from another potential client. It bothered him to be turning down work but they’d didn’t need the money and he wanted his calendar clear. Just in case.
They’d done their calculations and they could easily retire on what they had in the bank and investments. Or at least take a year off. For a couple in their late thirties, they’d done incredibly well. Marie had been one of the originals in a startup software firm that had hit big and been bought. John’s career in contract law was less flashy but by staying independent and working with low overhead, he’d banked just under a million dollars in the last few years. Plus they’d bought Google on the way up. They were comfortable.
The alarm on his laptop beeped. It was noon. He’d told Lora he’d be there at noon. Why was he hesitating? Weren’t Marie and Lora about to offer him the chance to live out his wildest teen aged fantasies? The two of them had been planning “something big” since last weekend. Marie moved in with Lora ten days ago and he hadn’t seen her since.
Something about that thought made his cock stir. The thrill of the unknown. And his wife in the hands of their friend Lora. It could mean anything. Maybe Lora had taught his wife some new tricks. Maybe — could it be possible — a threesome?
Lora was the right one to do that.
She’d taken a completely different road after college. While Marie and John buckled down to their jobs, Lora took to the road. Or the skies more specifically. Two years as a stewardess followed by the last six or seven as a high priced “escort”. She’d been all around the world, spending a night here, a week there, and once ninety days as the live-in “deal closer” for an international developer named Han. Whenever someone was on the fence about a buy or a sell that Han really wanted, Lora be brought into the picture and, after a few days — or in one case, two weeks — the papers were signed and Lora took a percentage of the profits.
She’d played all the roles. The girlfriend, the ex-wife, the dominatrix, the submissive, Asian, French, English — whatever the customer wanted. And, over the years, there was almost no perverted, deviant act Lora hadn’t been asked to perform. She attacked every one of them with gusto, reveling in the use of her body for any purpose that brought more gold into her coffers.
When Marie lost her job three weeks ago, Lora had been quick to suggest Marie join her. They laughed about it the first time Lora mentioned it. At two-hundred forty two pounds on a five-foot-ten frame, Marie was not someone who made heads turn. That wasn’t exactly true, John thought, she *did* turn heads. There was something intensely sensual about her face — her eyes and lips and the way her neck flowed into her shoulders, then down into the cleavage of her natural DD chest. Her thick, brown hair was usually pulled back in a single pony talk but when she let it fall free around her face, she did more than turn heads. John was sure she’d made more than a few cocks stand up and take notice.
John smiled. His cock has stiffened as his imagination flashed on Marie sitting on the bed with Lora running a brush through her hair. What *was* in store for him at the Hyatt?
He got up and took his jacket off of the hangar on the back of the door. Twenty-five hundred dollars. Who would have ever expected to spend that kind of money on a suit? He chuckled out loud. It’s strange how life turns out sometimes.

John poured the last half of the Foster’s into the short glass and held the can in his hand, looking at the label without reading it.
“John?” Lora said quietly.
John didn’t response.
“John, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He looked around. The lounge was nearly empty, even at lunch time it didn’t seem to draw much of a crowd. There was the bartender, two waitresses in short, black dresses, and only two other people. A couple, sitting in a booth across the room, both in suits, a stack of papers on the table between them. Probably lawyers, he thought, then smiled.
“How long has she known?”
“Does that matter?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know.” He took a drink. “How long?”
“At least a year. Not much longer.”
John shook his head, looked down at his glass.
“Why didn’t you ever mention it?”
He snapped his head up, looked into her eyes, angry. “Why? Well, it’s not exactly the kind of thing you can drop in the middle of a conversation, is it? ‘Dear, you know all those nights I said I was downstairs watching replays of my favorite concerts?

To read the rest of this story, you need to support us, over on Patreon, for as little as £1.99

Join here: patreon.com/FantasyFiction_FF

Rate this story

Average Rating: 0 (0 votes)

Leave a comment