“Do you deserve it?” you ask me once again.“Yes. Please.” I tell you.“Please, what?”I feel humiliated and turned on at the same time to as... for what I want. “Please, fuck me with your finger.”A hard spank comes down my ass in surprise. “Ask again,” you command.“Please, will you fuck me with your finger?” My body is burning with desire and humiliation. Burning with control and surrender. Your finger slowly enters my wet pussy but just teasing at the entrance. I can feel my hunger wanting to. Do you want to play?” This woman is ravishingly gorgeous. I’d love nothing more than to grab her hand, march her up to my room, throw her on the bed and fuck her silly. But I’m a married man and, at least up until now, a faithful one at that. “I’d like to but only if my wife plays and, let me tell you now, she won’t play. She’s a pretty sexual woman but is very conservative. Playing with others has never even crossed her mind,” I summarize. “Are you sure of that?” she asks. “I’m pretty damn. Like the pain, however, my fear had been dulled.I began to hear music, the faint strains of bells, a distant sound, surely imagined. A lullaby my grandmother would sing when I was a child, familiar if long forgotten. Bemused, I whispered along, slowly recalling the words.Bumble bee plays, pretty princess, grasshopper sings. Dragonfly prays, little princess, sun on her wings. Butterfly dances, pretty princess, life is a lark. But spiders never take chances, little princes, lurking in the dark. I. I think the jealousy came from the fact that I knew my husband would think she was hot. Hell, even I thought she was hot, and I’m straight. Oh yeah, let me tell you just a bit about my husband first.Dave Melbourne and I met in college and we just seemed to click together. He wasn’t like almost every other guy in college. By that I mean that he was focused on his studies and not on partying and picking up girls like the majority of the men there. He had a goal and he wasn’t going to let anything.