Ginger Ch. 02

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A couple of months later the two of them sat in the front room of their semi-detached home on a Saturday afternoon, enjoying a cup of tea together. Since that night when Yvonne had first shared her kinky fantasies with him, Bruce had found himself again and again asking her to masturbate to her fantasies in front of him. He didn’t understand in the least what it was that drove his wife to desire what she did, but there was no doubt the effect her fantasies had on her. Bruce found himself being turned on by, and getting off on, her state of arousal, without needing to understand what caused it.

He sat there now unusually silent, even for him, as he turned an idea over in his head, trying to examine it from all sides. He was on the verge of proposing something to Yvonne, but unsure whether doing so was a good idea or not. Just in the time he’d been sipping his tea he’d probably changed his mind a half dozen times. He was just now realizing how much courage it must have taken for her to open up to him, and the conclusion he kept coming back to again and again was that he owed it to her to be equally as open and courageous in turn, consequences be damned.

“Yvonne?” he asked, still not at all sure he was doing the right thing even as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Yes love?”

“These fantasies of yours – your twisted S&M thing – have you ever thought about making them more than just a fantasy?”

“Are you serious?” she asked, the look on her face betraying just how startled she was by Bruce’s question.

“Never more so,” he replied.

“You mean actually look for a woman, a dominant woman, for me to be with?”

“Something along those lines, yeah.”

“How would we go about something like that then?”

“I’ve heard there are sites on the web for that sort of thing.”

It was Yvonne’s turn to be quiet for a few moments as she tried to take in what he was saying, and as concerns of her own presented themselves to her.

“You’re really serious?” she asked again.

“I am, yeah.”

“Do you really think you could handle it? You aren’t just saying this because you think it’s something I want, but afterwards you’d have second thoughts that would eat away at you, and lead to problems between us? Because quite honestly, Bruce, causing problems for us was the last thing I wanted to do when I shared my kinky fantasies with you. I did that without any notion of them being anything more than a fantasy, and if keeping this as a fantasy is what our marriage needs then I’m more than okay with that.”

“I’m not sure I can properly explain this,” he said, setting his cup of tea down on the coffee table and taking her hands in his, “but let me try. I’ve seen the effect these fantasies of yours have on you, on more than one occasion now. This is clearly something you need, something that turns you on, and at the same time it isn’t something that I can do for you. Quite apart from the fact that I’m not a woman,” he said, causing both of them to smile, “I don’t get this whole domination thing that you seem to crave, it certainly wouldn’t do anything for me, but the fact that it turns you on as much as it does is a turn on for me.”

He paused for a moment to let his words sink in before continuing. “Since this isn’t something that I can give you, then it doesn’t pose a threat to me if you were to get it from someone else, as long as it was all up front and you weren’t sneaking around behind my back or anything. Does that make sense?”

“You’re really serious?” she asked again.

“Love, we’ve been through that. For the third time, yes, I’m serious. I think we should find you a Mistress.”

Another concern crossed Yvonne’s mind. “You aren’t just saying this so that you can have permission to shag another woman? Because honestly, I don’t think I could handle that. I know that sounds horribly unfair.”

“Not unfair at all, and no, that isn’t what I’m after. I get all my needs met by you, Yvonne. There isn’t anything I want, sexually, that you can’t give me. I clearly can’t meet all of your sexual needs, so it makes sense to me that you might benefit from having someone else to meet the ones that I can’t.”

“Oh Bruce,” she said, leaping out of her seat and throwing her arms around him as she finally came to terms with the fact that he was offering her a serious proposal rather than making a cruel joke. “You are the most wonderful, intelligent, secure man that a woman could possibly hope to have for a husband. I swear I was the luckiest şişli travesti girl on earth the day that you asked me to marry you.”

Later that afternoon they found an online dating site that specialized in BDSM relationships, and Bruce helped her set up a profile. Then they sat back to see what would happen. At first things didn’t go well. A number of women flat out refused to consider her upon learning that she was married to a man, and one initially promising prospect turned out to be a man masquerading behind a female screen name. Just when she was on the verge of giving up, Yvonne’s profile was winked at by Karen, an American woman who worked for a management consulting firm, and who was on assignment managing her firm’s London office.

Yvonne and Karen spent some time getting to know one another on-line. In Yvonne, Karen found a willing and eager student hungry for knowledge and experience about BDSM, while Yvonne found Karen to be a patient and knowledgeable tutor. Several evenings a week would find them chatting away on the computer. Karen gave her pupil things to read, and felt her out about her own desires and interests, and also gave her a series of small tasks to do and report back on. Yvonne shared many of the things she and Karen talked about with Bruce, and while he still in no way understood where his wife’s kinky desires came from, the fact that they turned her on continued to be a turn on for him. At the same time, he wanted to monitor closely what Yvonne was doing with Karen, and vice versa, to ensure that his wife wasn’t getting into a situation that might be dangerous for her.

Eventually things progressed to the point where Karen and Yvonne planned a face-to-face meeting, a prospect that made Yvonne both nervous and excited. Karen invited Yvonne and Bruce to meet her for dinner at a restaurant in the city, with an open invitation for Yvonne to accompany her back to her flat if all went well. The two women exchanged mobile phone numbers, and enough of a description to be able to recognize one another. Yvonne hemmed and hawed over what to wear, bending Bruce’s ear incessantly with the various options before eventually settling on a royal blue strapless dress. Barely knee length, it had a scalloped neckline that set off her slender neck and shoulders nicely.

The weekend before they were to meet Karen, Bruce took Yvonne out shopping for some suitable new lingerie: a black strapless bra, a pair of black stockings and some matching suspenders. Karen’s instructions to Yvonne were to not wear any panties under her dress, a prospect she was a little uncomfortable with, and Bruce even more so. They’d be traveling down to London on the train and then taking the tube once they got there, and he had some serious reservations about his wife traveling on public transportation, even with him, with her cunt totally uncovered under a dress that short. At the shop they found a pair of crotch-less panties that came in a set with the strapless bra, and he suggested that wearing those would be virtually the same as going commando. Yvonne quite agreed with her husband’s reasoning, and as her husband was being so helpful and supportive in all this, she felt that making this one small concession was the least she could do for him.

It was more than a little odd for Bruce, but also surprisingly arousing, to find himself standing at the checkout counter at John Lewis purchasing lingerie for his wife that she hoped would be taken off by someone else. This feeling was even stronger the following weekend, as he helped her shave and get dressed for their evening out and select jewelry to complete the ensemble, picking out a long string of black pearls and a pair of citrine earrings that contrasted nicely with the blue fabric of her dress. Yvonne threw a shawl over her shoulders as protection against the chill, and as they walked out the door and towards the station together, Bruce had butterflies in his stomach.

On the train ride into London and then on the tube from Euston Station, Yvonne was both nervous and excited at the prospect of meeting Karen, and glad that Bruce was with her. As they drew closer to their destination she started clinging to her husband’s arm as if for dear life. For his part, Bruce made most of the journey in pensive silence. He was accompanying his wife to have dinner at a rather posh restaurant with a woman who wanted to have sex with her, and nothing in his previous experience had quite prepared him for such bakırköy travesti an event. Feelings of jealousy fought with those of arousal, while both mingled with a fear of what this might mean and where it might lead down the road. By the time they made their way out of the tube station and onto the city streets the lump in his throat was quite prominent.

As they entered the restaurant Bruce explained to the maitre d’ that they were meeting someone while Yvonne looked around expectantly. Karen was already there, and stood up to greet them as the maitre d’ brought them to the table, looking Yvonne over from head to toe and taking in both her appearance and her outfit as she did so. Karen was quite a bit taller than Yvonne had been expecting – she estimated about 1.75m – and not afraid to accentuate her height by wearing heels. She had wavy blonde hair that came just past her shoulders, and breasts that were quite a bit larger than Yvonne’s pert ones, filling up her tunic like a pair of ripe melons. She was dressed in a pair of light grey trousers with a peach blouse, and a belted grey tunic over it that Yvonne guessed she’d thrown on to replace a more corporate looking jacket upon leaving the office The two women greeted one another excitedly, kissing each other on the cheek, and Bruce awkwardly held out a meaty hand.

“Bruce Morgan,” he said. “Pleasure.”

“Karen Claiborne,” she replied, with just a hint of the American south in her accent. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

Karen turned out to be a wonderful conversationalist, putting them both at ease and making a special effort to include Bruce in the conversation. While they gave the menu a good looking over, Karen leaned over and whispered an instruction in Yvonne’s ear that she was to keep her legs apart while sitting at the table, which in her crotch-less panties left her feeling wickedly exposed, but other than that the exchanges between the two women were more flirty than domineering. Over drinks and starters Bruce asked Karen some general questions about BDSM, and also about how she’d gotten into the scene and her experiences with it, questions that Karen answered patiently and willingly. It almost seemed to him that the American woman realized on some level that she’d already seduced Yvonne, and that it was him she needed to win over. He found that realization reassuring, his confidence increasing that in Karen they’d found a good candidate to help make Yvonne’s fantasies a reality, and that if things did indeed proceed to the next step he’d be leaving his wife in good hands.

Later in the evening, as they were finishing their main courses, Karen asked Yvonne if she’d like to accompany her to the washroom, looking across the table at Bruce as she did so. Bruce nodded his head imperceptibly, and the two women got up and headed towards the loo together. Upon finding that they were the only two occupants, Karen pulled Yvonne towards her and kissed the shorter, darker, more slender English woman forcefully on the mouth. Yvonne was surprised by the suddenness of Karen’s move, but also felt her cunt becoming even more wet than it already was. Her tongue reached out to meet Karen’s, as she tried to savor every moment of her first kiss with another woman. She found it to be softer and, in a way, sweeter than kissing a bloke. Their kiss lingered, and Yvonne’s hand found it’s way to the American woman’s breasts, which she was drawn to like a moth to a flame. She started imagining what it would be like later, when she could get her hands on them unencumbered by multiple layers of clothing.

Karen’s hand started making its way up the back of Yvonne’s thigh, but stopped abruptly, as did the kiss, upon finding Yvonne’s ass encased in panties. “What are these?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Yvonne started to say, “Bruce wasn’t comfortable with me traveling on the train without any knickers on, in a dress this short. These are crotch-less, leaving my pussy exposed, so we thought they’d amount to the same thing.” Yvonne found her heart rate increasing, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl caught in some transgression, as she attempted to explain herself to this tall American woman whom she so wished to please.

“If I give you an instruction, as long as it’s within your limits and doesn’t impinge on your marriage, then your choices are to either use your safe-word, or to follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand?” Karen asked, as she grabbed Yvonne’s istanbul travestileri hair in one hand and yanked her head back sharply.

“Yes ma’am,” Yvonne replied.

“Lift your dress up above your ass,” Karen instructed, “then pull your panties down around your knees and spread your legs apart.” Yvonne did exactly that, and Karen grabbed her hair again and pushed her forward, bending her over the counter and bringing her hand down firmly on Yvonne’s ass. Ten times Karen swotted her, and Yvonne found the combination coupled with the humiliation of being bent over the washbasin and spanked in a public loo while she watched herself in the mirror to be surprisingly and powerfully arousing. The spanking complete, Karen held her in the same position as she fingered her to orgasm before bringing her fingers to her lips, tasting Yvonne’s cunt for the first time. Karen instructed her to finish removing the panties, which she did, at which point Karen picked them up and tucked them into the front pocket of her trousers.

Bruce had had about enough of pushing his veg around on the plate, and was just starting to think it was taking the women an unusually long time in the loo when he saw them returning. Before leaving the house that night, Bruce and Yvonne had arranged a couple of signals between them, one if Yvonne was comfortable with Karen and enjoying the evening, and wished to accompany her to her flat afterwards; another if she wasn’t comfortable with the situation and wished to return home with Bruce. As she returned to the table with Karen, Yvonne flashed him the all-clear signal, but he knew without being told that that was the case. He wasn’t sure quite why or how, but somehow in the time they’d been gone the dynamic between the two women had shifted.

The waiter cleared their plates and brought dessert menus, and as they perused them Karen looked over at Yvonne. “Tell him,” she said.

Yvonne looked her husband in the eye with a bit of a twinkle. “We kissed,” she said, “and I was spanked for being a naughty girl and wearing knickers.” She proceeded to relate to Bruce the series of events that had just taken place in the washroom, up to and including Karen getting her off with her fingers.

Now it was Bruce’s turn to look over at Karen. “I’m sorry,” he said, “the panties were my idea. I wasn’t really comfortable with the idea of my wife riding on the train, in a dress that short, with her privates exposed like that to all the world.”

Karen placed her hand, the one that had brought Yvonne to orgasm, over his reassuringly. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” she said, while squeezing his hand ever so slightly. “Yvonne’s transgression had nothing to do with you or your input. The thing is, this is going to be more difficult for Yvonne trying to juggle two relationships than it would if she were just with me, but that’s a balance that she’s going to have to learn. I’m not going to do anything, either with her or to her, that will impinge on your marriage, but within that limit she’s going to need to learn when it’s appropriate to accede to your wishes and when she needs to follow my instructions. In this case I’d given her an instruction that might have pushed her a little farther out of her comfort zone than she would have been willing to go on her own, and it would certainly have left her feeling naughtily exposed, but you and she would really have been the only ones who knew she wasn’t wearing panties. There was nothing about it that would have put her in any danger, and she should have followed my instructions more strictly. Does that make sense?”

Bruce was reassured that Karen was dealing with him as an equal, and wasn’t in any way trying to impose her will on top of or instead of his own where Yvonne was concerned. During the course of the evening he’d gained a certain respect for Karen and how she was handling things, and reflected once again on how lucky they’d been to find Karen. This was an adjustment that Yvonne was going to have to make, if she was to make this work, and Bruce nodded to indicate he understood.

The women were understandably eager to move on to the next part of their evening, so they collectively decided to skip dessert. Karen picked up the bill and the three of them made their way out of the restaurant and into the London night. Karen gave them a few moments of privacy to kiss their good nights, and as they did so Yvonne stood up on her tiptoes and whispered in her husband’s ear. “Do me one favor,” she said, “and don’t stroke yourself off tonight. I promise I’ll make it worth your while when I get home in the morning.”

“Alright,” he said, “if that’s what you want. I love you. Now go have fun.”

“I love you too,” she said, and they enjoyed a long, lingering kiss, after which Bruce headed off towards the tube station while Karen hailed a cab.

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