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by Ky_Da » Sun Jan 26, 2025 8:52 am
Despite a day filled with laughter and warmth with Joanna, the soccer match, and lunch at Nando's, my stomach was in knots. Not from the chicken, but consumed by thoughts of what Jaimee might be enduring, or more accurately, what was being done to her. The afternoon waned into evening, and with no sign of Jaimee, my nerves frayed. As I tucked the kids into bed, the memory of the previous night with Joanna was pushed to the back of my mind; all I craved was the reassurance that my wife was home, safe.
I texted Jaimee repeatedly, and when silence was all I received, I turned to Sipho, demanding answers. His reply was swift, assuring me that Jaimee was nearby and would soon be home, but his words, "She's been through a lot, needs aftercare. She'll need time," left me with more questions than answers. I was about to fire off another text when headlights pierced the darkness outside our flat.
I stepped out to find Jaimee emerging from the passenger side of a car, not even bothering to acknowledge the driver. She stood, her gaze meeting mine across the distance, offering a faint smile that barely lifted the corners of her lips. Even from afar, her exhaustion was palpable.
Approaching her, I took in the sight of Jaimee transformed into Lexi in the most visceral way. She was clad in an outfit that screamed 'after hours'—a tiny, low-cut halter top that barely contained her breasts, now more pronounced thanks to the heavy, new piercings visible beneath the fabric, paired with a micro-miniskirt that seemed more like a belt, her fishnet stockings torn in places. Her makeup was a battle scene; smudged mascara created dark halos around her eyes, lipstick smeared beyond the lines of her mouth, telling stories of kisses and more. Her hair was a wild cascade, tangled and knotted from the night's activities, giving her the look of someone who had been thoroughly, deliciously wrecked.
I guided her into the house, securing the door behind us, and led her to our bedroom. My heart raced with a cocktail of anticipation, nerves, and desire, tinged with fear of what new marks of her adventures I would discover. The spade tattoo and chain around her ankle, the 'SI' on her wrist, and the visible impressions of her nipple rings were already public declarations of her alter ego, Lexi. Now, I wondered what new ink or piercings might reveal her further transformation. Part of me yearned to see more of this bold, liberated version of her, while another part recoiled at the permanence and the implications of each new addition.
Jaimee seemed profoundly out of sorts, her movements slow and her eyes unfocused, leading me to wonder if she was under the influence. "Are you high?" I asked, worry etching my voice.
"No, I only took the ecstasy with you, nothing since," she replied, her words slurring slightly as she sat on the bed, still in a daze.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" I pressed, my concern mounting as she struggled to form her thoughts.
After what felt like an eternity, she murmured, "Nothing's wrong, I don't think. I'm just... out of sorts after everything."
I sat beside her, and for a fleeting moment, her eyes cleared, focusing on me as if seeing me for the first time since she'd arrived. She shook herself, the realization of her attire hitting her like a cold wave; embarrassment flickered across her face at the sheer, slutty nature of her outfit. My eyes caught on a new addition—a sparkling dermal belly button piercing, the kind with a small, dangling charm.
"Is this one of Sipho's decorations?" I asked, gesturing towards the piercing.
She nodded, a small, sheepish smile breaking through her daze. "Yeah, it is."
"What else?" I probed, eager to understand the extent of the night's events.
But before she could continue, Jaimee's expression softened, her eyes welling up with tears. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice quivering as she leaned in, seeking comfort in my arms. I enveloped her in a hug, feeling her body tremble against mine.
"The look in your eyes when I told you I wasn't staying at the nightclub... it broke my heart," she confessed, her voice muffled against my chest. "I didn't know if you wanted to be pushed further, if this is what you wanted. I played the game because I thought that's what you wanted, but I've been second-guessing myself ever since."
I held her tighter, my emotions a tumultuous mix. "That was the most intense angst I've ever experienced," I admitted. "It took our game to a whole new level, almost as intense as finding out about Wade." I was alluding to the shocking revelation that our boys were fathered by her former lover. "I'm okay with what you did, but I was a breath away from using my safe word. I couldn't have taken any more."
I paused, choosing my words with care, not wanting to accuse or judge, but needing to understand. "Jaimee, was all of this just for the game, or... was there something in it for you too? I mean, did you want to be Lexi for the night, not just for me?"
Her response was slow, her words measured, as if she was navigating through her own feelings. "Yes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "A part of me... I wanted to be Lexi. What happened, it turned me on. I can't deny that. It wasn't just for you."
I felt a shift in the air, a new layer of our reality unveiling itself. "Can you show me the other 'decorations' you got?" I asked, my curiosity mingling with a hint of apprehension.
Jaimee's expression turned conflicted, a battle between sharing and keeping this part of her night private. But she stood up, moving to the side of the bed, and with a single, fluid motion, she pushed her short skirt down. There were no knickers beneath, and my eyes were drawn immediately to a word written in beautiful cursive along the line where her thigh meets her pelvis. The word "Temptation" was inked in black, an inch tall, positioned where it would be visible just below the line of any bikini or panty she might wear, a public declaration if she chose to show it.
I took a moment, letting the new tattoo and its implications sink in. "Why 'Temptation'?" I asked, my voice a mix of fascination and a twinge of something darker.
"Sipho says that's what I'm to embody as Lexi," Jaimee explained, her voice steady but her eyes searching mine for understanding. "He wants Lexi to be pure Temptation."
After processing the tattoo, my gaze traveled further down, where another of Sipho's 'decorations' caught my attention. There, at the apex of her intimacy, was a new piercing—a vertical barbell through her clitoral hood, the metal ring lying against her skin, subtly yet provocatively present. It felt like it was another step in her transformation, another step on her journey into Lexi's world of temptation and pleasure.
"I see number three," I said, referring to the number of decorations. "And numbers four and five?"
"Only the three," Jaimee replied, her voice knackered.
I exhaled in relief. Two small piercings and one tattoo weren't as bad as my imagination had conjured. But as I sat back, taking in the full extent of her transformation, I was floored. The tattoos, the piercings, the provocative clothes, the heavy makeup, and even the longer hair - the Jaimee I knew seemed like a distant memory.
"Say something, Ky," Jaimee urged after a long silence, her tone tinged with anxiety. "You're scaring me."
"Sorry, I'm just trying to process this all. Last night was intense, and seeing you like this... seeing Lexi, I guess, it's overwhelming. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? I mean, really looked?"
Jaimee's posture stiffened, her shoulders tensing. "Every day, innit? And I like the changes. I like this part of me. Lexi's a laugh. She's my escape, my getaway. And you just said you were alright with it, that I hadn't gone too far. Are you starting to get cold feet on me?"
I felt the tension knotting between us, the unspoken question of whether we could truly handle the direction our relationship was heading. "It's not about cold feet, Jaimee. It's about... I guess, reconciling who you were with who you are now. I'm alright with Lexi, but it's hard seeing how much this has changed you, us. I want to make sure we're still on the same page, that this isn't just spiraling into something neither of us can control."
Her eyes searched mine, seeking reassurance or perhaps bracing for confirmation of her fears. "This isn't just my transformation, Ky. It's ours. We started this together, didn't we? But if you're not with me in this, I need to know, yeah."
I reached out, taking her hand in mine, a silent gesture of solidarity. The air was thick with tension, signaling that we would need one of our longer discussions soon, but for now, it could wait. I gently pulled her back to sit on the bed with me. The hug she gave me was loving and heartfelt, enveloping us in a quiet intimacy. The room was silent except for the sound of our breathing, punctuated by her soft sniffles.
I leaned back slightly, adjusting so I could see her face clearly. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" I asked again, trying to keep my voice gentle. Jaimee rarely cried, so to me this was concerning.
"I'm not sure, I'm just... overwhelmed with emotions I don't know how to handle," she managed to say through her tears.
Taking a deep breath, she continued, her voice steadying. "After leaving the club with Brian, he took me to a nearby hotel. We spent most of the night there, just... you know, being together. It was intense, but it felt good, really good. I woke up late the next morning, and he took me to this house I didn't know. It was nice, quite posh actually, but one room was... well, it was like nothing I'd seen before, filled with all sorts of BDSM gear."
She paused, gathering her thoughts, her eyes meeting mine. "Then Sipho arrived. It was him and Brian, both of them. They used all these different restraints on me, and we... we spent most of the day like that. It was a lot, Ky, but not in a bad way. There was pain, yes, but mixed with so much pleasure. I've heard about subspace, but I'd never experienced it until today. It was like being in a haze, my thoughts all muddled, but in a way that felt amazing, liberating."
Her voice softened, a hint of wonder in her tone. "Everything was so intense, I lost track of time. I felt so high, but not from drugs, just from the experience itself. It was overwhelming, but in the best way, like I was discovering parts of myself I didn't know existed. I wasn't abused, I want you to know that. It was all consensual, and I... I enjoyed it. More than I expected."
She curled into me a bit more, seeking comfort in our closeness as she continued. "Afterwards, Sipho took me to get these new decorations, where I got the piercing and the tattoo. The tattoo artist was ready to do more, something quite large, but Sipho stopped it. He said it was enough for one day, that it was late, and it was time for me to come home. So he arranged a taxi to bring me back."
Jaimee looked up at me, her eyes searching for understanding. "It was a lot, Ky. I felt like I was living someone else's life, but it was mine. I'm still processing everything, but I needed you to know what happened. I wanted to share this with you because, despite how wild it sounds, it felt right at the time. I hope you understand that." Her voice trembled slightly as she added, "I'm not completely sure, but something about the restraints, the pleasure, the bits of pain, it all just pulled out all these emotions I didn't know I had. Now, I'm all over the place, feeling everything all at once, and I don't know how to stop it."
I maneuvered us fully onto the bed, positioning her as the little spoon, my arms wrapped around her. She smelled of leftover perfume, the acrid bite of cigarette smoke, sweat, the unmistakable scent of sex, and the lingering musk of men's cologne. With her choker necklace and the way she was dressed, she looked the part of a submissive whore, yet there was an undeniable vulnerability to her that tugged at my heart. I held her like that, her body pressed against mine, for what felt like an eternity, feeling the rhythm of her breathing slowly steady and deepen into sleep.
I stayed with her, arms around her for nearly an hour before I gently disentangled myself, covering her with a blanket. Before I did, I took a moment to inspect her more closely. The only new 'decoration' I could see was the belly button piercing, but her skin was dotted with love bites—those marks Brits call 'love bites' or 'suck marks'. They were scattered across her neck, shoulders, and any exposed skin, a testament to the night's intensity.
With a last, lingering look, I covered her up, leaving her to rest, her body and mind needing time to recover from whatever had transpired.
With Jaimee lost to the world of sleep, I ventured downstairs, my mind replaying her words, her tears, and the raw emotion on her face. Joanna was there on the couch, still adorned in her floral dress now slightly creased from a day of play and household duties.
"She looks exhausted," Joanna said, her voice carrying a note of concern.
"She is," I confirmed. "She's out cold."
"I wonder how much her body count increased," Joanna said, her tone more curious than judgmental.
"A couple," I admitted, the weight of the words hanging between us.
Our conversation flowed in a comfortable rhythm, but then Joanna shifted to the front edge of the couch, her presence a soft, comforting force in the room. She looked every bit like a young mother, her features softened by fatigue, her hair mussed from a day spent with my children in my home. I blinked several times, my tired brain still struggling to make sense of everything.
I expected her to excuse herself for bed, but her posture suggested otherwise. "Ky," she began, her voice tinged with a hesitancy that was rare for her, "I know it's not the time or place, but we should talk about this weekend... what happened between us."
I nodded, feeling the gravity of her words. "I owe you that conversation, Joanna. You're right."
She looked down, then back up at me with those clear, green eyes. "I understand you're married, and I get that you're torn about anything more than what we've shared. But I'd like to talk about it, understand where I stand."
My heart ached with the complexity of our situation. "Joanna, you're incredible. Jaimee and I, we've come to think the world of you. You've become so much more than just someone who helps with the kids. You're part of this family now, part of our lives in ways we never expected - that I never expected. I don't understand why you're not out there, buried in dates with guys ten years younger than me. There are so many good guys out there for you, and I don't want to be the one to derail your future."
She gave a small, knowing smile, "My life, my choices, Ky. Just like Jaimee says, innit? I'm not looking for a commitment, just... clarity, maybe a bit of honesty between us."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Honesty is the least I can give you. I've enjoyed our time, more than I should, but yeah, I'm walking a tightrope, Joanna. Jaimee, the kids, our lifestyle... it's complicated."
She nodded, understanding etched across her face. "Aye, it's all complicated, but talking about it doesn't have to make it more so. Maybe it can help us both figure out what we want, or at least what we can handle."
"I appreciate that," I said, genuinely touched by her maturity and grace. "I don't want you to feel like you're in the shadows. You deserve better."
Joanna laughed softly, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, I'm not about to hide in shadows. But knowing where we stand, that would be helpful."
We shared a look, a silent agreement that this conversation was necessary, perhaps overdue.
"Well, before I head to bed," Joanna said, her voice a sultry whisper as she slid to her knees, crawling towards me with deliberate slowness. "How about I take the edge off? You look like you could use it."
She gave me a knowing smile, her green eyes twinkling with mischief, and without waiting for my approval, her fingers found my belt, deftly unbuckling it. Her hands were warm, her touch confident as she eased my trousers down.
Joanna let down her hair, the strands falling messily around her face, then leaned in, her lips parting with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Her mouth enveloped me, the warmth both surprising and intoxicating, but her tongue's movements lacked the precision of experience. Instead, there was an endearing clumsiness to her swirls, each stroke more about enthusiasm than technique, yet still managing to coax my nerves to life.
Her approach was less about rhythm and more about eagerness; her motions were slow and somewhat awkward, occasionally punctuated by deeper plunges that caught me off guard, leading to sharp intakes of breath. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of determination and the thrill of discovery, her expression one of genuine delight mixed with a touch of nervousness.
She tried to employ her hands alongside her mouth, one hand awkwardly cupping and massaging, the other attempting to guide with a grip that was sometimes too firm, sometimes too gentle. Her rhythm was off, more like a novice pianist finding their way through a new piece, but the earnestness in her effort was palpable.
Despite the lack of practiced finesse, the sensation was still overwhelming; her lips and tongue, though unpolished, worked with a fervor that was undeniably arousing. Each bob of her head, each tentative flick of her tongue, was a testament to her desire to please, bringing me closer to the edge with a raw, passionate intensity that was all the more incredible for its lack of perfection.
Her hair, soft against my skin, added to the sensory overload, the strands tickling and teasing, her breath warm and quickening. The sight of this beautiful redhead, so committed to my ecstasy, was intoxicating, her dedication evident in the way she savored each moan I couldn't help but release.
The moment the tension left my body, I felt like I was melting into the plush cushions of the couch, my sigh mingling with the heavy air of release. My eyes drifted down to Joanna, who was delicately scooping the trace of my release that had escaped her lips back into her mouth with her thumb. She swallowed, a subtle, satisfied smile playing on her lips before she settled back on her haunches.
"I knew you needed that," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.
"There isn't a guy in this world who doesn't 'need that'," I replied, my voice a mix of gratitude and lingering desire.
I half-expected Joanna to retreat to her room, but instead, she moved with a deliberate slowness, crawling up my body until she straddled me, her warmth pressing against me. She leaned in, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both comforting and igniting. I let her lead, my mouth opening to hers, returning the kiss with a fervor that surprised me.
Unlike the overwhelming, layered scent of my wife I'd experienced a short time ago, which were remnants of a wild night spent in the throes of passion, her body on display, and the lingering musk of sex and hedonism from a marathon party, Joanna's aroma was like a refreshing gust of morning air.
Jaimee's scent tonight was an intoxicating blend of spent perfume, the salty hint of sweat from hours of dancing and more intimate exertions, mixed with the smoky residue of too many cigarettes and the sweet, slightly sour tang of alcohol-laced kisses. It was a smell that spoke of her wild abandon, her embrace of her desires, a scent that somehow still thrilled me with its sheer audacity.
In stark contrast, Joanna's smell was simple, her fragrance a comforting mix of lavender soap with a touch of perspiration from a day spent caring for children, doing laundry, and baking in the kitchen.
I found myself enjoying both scents - Jaimee's for its bold, unapologetic celebration of sexuality, and Joanna's for its grounding, nurturing essence. Each aroma pulled at me in different ways, one reminding me of untamed nights, the other of serene mornings.
Joanna's hands, already a balm on my shoulders, now roamed with purpose, her fingers tracing the contours of my body. Her hips began to grind against me, the rhythmic motion igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment she straddled me. With a deft movement, she pulled up her dress and her panties aside, revealing her readiness, her desire as palpable as mine. She guided me inside her, the sensation like plunging into the most exquisite warmth, an intimate embrace that felt both forbidden and utterly right.
"Oh god, oh god..." Joanna whispered, her voice tinged with her unmistakable lilt, a mix of pleasure and urgency as I filled her, the taboo of our liaison, of fucking the nanny again, only heightening the pleasure. I knew this wasn't wise, but the decision was made by my lizard brain, by the way her tightness gripped me, by how her warmth enveloped me. Her moans started softly, like the first whispers of a storm, but quickly escalated into a symphony of pleasure. Each mewl, each gasp was a note in the crescendo of our shared ecstasy, her accent adding a raw, authentic edge to each sound.
I leaned forward, my lips finding the delicate skin of her neck. Her vocal cry spurred me on, and I sucked harder, the taste of her skin, the scent of her arousal overwhelming my senses. I knew I was marking her, branding her with my desire, but in that moment, all I wanted was to claim her, to make her mine.
"Hold on, love, slow down," Joanna murmured, her breath hot against my ear. "I'm a bit sore from this morning... it's been a while since I've had owt but me little toy."
Hearing her vulnerability, my heart swelled with a mix of pride and desire. I loved that she thought I was enough for her, that she thought my dick was enough; it was a nice change.
As our pace adjusted, my mind couldn't help but stray to Jaimee, lying asleep in our bedroom. A pang of guilt shot through me, but it was quickly drowned by the rising tide of my own pleasure. Jaimee was lost to dreams, and here I was, caught in a different kind of dream, one where the lines of morality blurred into the haze of lust.
The thought of Jaimee, the thrill of this hidden intimacy, it was all too reminiscent of the early days of our marriage, where every touch was new, every kiss a discovery. With Joanna, it was like I'd found that New Relationship Energy again, but amplified, intensified by the forbidden nature of our connection. It was stronger, more intoxicating than I could have ever imagined.
Joanna's cries grew louder, her body moving with a desperate need against me. My own climax was building, a pressure so intense it felt like my entire being was on the brink of shattering. I gripped her hips, guiding her movements, feeling the edge of release so close. Her nails dug into my back, a sharp contrast to the softness of her skin, urging me on, pushing us both to the precipice.
With one final, deep thrust, I let go, the world narrowing down to the point where our bodies joined, where pleasure was pure and unadulterated. "Oh, fuck, Joanna," I gasped, the intensity of my release echoing through my core.
Joanna followed, her body convulsing around me, her moans turning into a scream of release that seemed to echo in the very walls around us. "Yes, yes, yes..." she cried out.
In the aftermath, as our breathing slowed, the reality of what we'd done settled in, but so did the undeniable satisfaction. The warmth of our bodies pressed together, still connected, spoke a language our words hadn't yet mastered. But the conversation we needed to have felt like stepping into a different, more complex world, one where the lines of our desires and fears blurred.
"Joanna... this... us," I began, my voice hesitant, each word a feather on the tightrope of our reality. "With Jaimee... with my wife knowing - pushing even. It's... not what I expected. How do you really feel about all this?"
Almost without thinking, my hand traced the curve of her back, an intimate gesture that caught me off-guard after the ultimate intimacy we had just shared. Sex was one thing, but these small, lingering touches felt like they carried more weight, a silent promise of deeper connection. I wondered if I should worry about it; after all, what could be more intimate than what we'd just done? Yet, these touches felt like they might send the wrong message, suggesting I wanted something more profound, something she might not be ready to give. Part of me thought I should pull back, stop this before it could be misinterpreted, but another part of me felt an undeniable need to continue, to keep this connection alive, even if just for a moment longer.
Joanna took her time, her eyes searching mine for some sign, some truth to cling to, like seeking a lighthouse in a storm. The silence stretched between us, filled only by the sound of our breathing, each pause heavy with unspoken thoughts. "I... I feel like I'm on this edge, you know? Balancing something enjoyable, but also something that could fall apart at any moment. I enjoy this, us, but..."
Her hesitation seemed to mirror my own inner turmoil, the tension palpable. "But what?" I asked, my voice soft, trying to navigate this conversation with care. "I feel this... this energy, this excitement when we're together," I whispered, my thumb stroking her cheek, "but there's this dread, like it could all go south."
She softened, her body relaxing into mine. "I know, I feel that too. It's like we're playing with fire, and I... I love the warmth," she murmured, her breath hot against my skin, "but I'm scared of getting burned."
I sighed, the weight of our contradictions pressing down, the reality of Jaimee's distant movements in her sleep making us both glance towards the door. "I want this to work, for everyone. But I can't shake this feeling that... that I might be making a huge mistake. We care about you, and Jaimee, and I don't want anyone to get hurt."
Her hesitation was palpable, her gaze dropping for a moment before returning to mine, a universe of emotions in that look. "I wasn't thinking we'd talk about this now... what we could be. I mean, Jaimee's open, but do we even know what we want from this?"
I nodded, the complexity of our situation hitting me anew, my fingers threading through hers. "I keep asking myself if this is just sex or if it's more. Do you... do you see this going anywhere?"
Joanna's voice trembled, revealing her own struggle as I watched her face, searching for a sign that she felt this pull, this confusion, as deeply as I did. "I want to say yes, though, I don't know where... but then I think... what if this is just a moment in time? What if I'm just... an adventure for you both?"
The thought made my heart sink, but I pressed on through the discomfort, my voice a quiet storm. "No, it's not just that for me. But I'm scared. Scared of losing what we have with Jaimee, scared of hurting you, or her, or..."
Joanna's touch on my face was gentle, a silent promise of comfort, her eyes holding mine in a silent conversation of fear, hope, and desire. "I'm scared too, love. I know I'm not just some secret, but I'm not sure what I am. I guess... I guess I need time to figure out what I want from this, what I can handle."
My own vulnerability surfaced like an old friend, my heart laid bare. "I want to give you that time. I want us to figure this out together, but I also feel this pull, this urge to just live in this moment, to ignore the future."
Joanna called everyone in the family 'love'. I remembered the first time she called me 'love', how it felt then compared to now, when it seemed to carry a different weight.
Her eyes held a mix of hope and uncertainty, reflecting the storm inside us both. "Maybe that's all we can do for now. Live in the moment, enjoy what we have, and... and hope we find our way through this maze."
I pulled her closer, the physical closeness now a symbol of our shared confusion, our shared desire, our bodies speaking what words could not. "Yeah, maybe... Maybe we just take it one day at a time. But I need you to know, I'm here, with you, even when it's confusing."
As we fell silent, I intertwined my fingers with hers, a silent vow to navigate this unknown together. I felt myself stir, my dick seeming to come to life once again. From Joanna's smile, she felt it too.
Joanna nodded, her voice quiet but firm, "I'm here too," she said, shifting her hips forward and then back. "We'll figure it out, or at least try to. Together."
We lay there for a while, our bodies still connected, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a blanket. The world outside seemed irrelevant, our little bubble of warmth and uncertainty the only reality that mattered. But as the moments stretched, I knew we'd have to face the morning, face Jaimee, face whatever this new day would bring. And with that thought, a new chapter of our lives seemed poised to begin, one where the lines between love, desire, and commitment would be drawn and redrawn with every breath we took.
Last edited by
Ky_Da on Sun Jan 26, 2025 11:52 am, edited 1 time in total.
