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WIFE1 men that situation might have



My Ex-Wife by Elric the Albino Part 1 (D/s F/m)

This is a new story I'm just starting. It's pure fantasy, no

characters are based on any actual persons I know. Any comments

would be appreciated.

This is a story about the incredible relationship I enjoyed with my

beautiful ex-wife. It's been two years since I lost her, but I can't

get her out of my system. I don't think I ever will.

I was 27, and she was 34.

I was a schoolteacher, and she was a businesswoman. What she

ever saw in me I don't know. She used to say she loved my sense

of humour, my firm ass, and my cock. Not necessarily in that

order.

It was very clear from an early stage in our courtship that

Elizabeth would be the dominant partner, both inside and outside

the bedroom. It was understood.

I remember the wedding day. God she was a stunning bride. I

couldn't take my eyes off her.

Let me describe the her in greater detail. She comes from a very

wealthy family. Her mother is a High Court judge. Her father is a

multi-millionaire businessman. She came from the ruling class,

plain and simple. I came from a working class family. This made

our relationship extremely unusual, and would eventually lead to

its demise; it is rare for two people from such hugely disparate

class backgrounds to even enter one another's spheres. In order for

such a meeting to take place, then, peculiar circumstances would

need to occur.

I met Elizabeth when my car broke down on a remote country

road.

I'd been on my way back from a fishing trip when the engine just

died. It was a warm summer evening, and I guess I had that to be

grateful for. I know nothing about cars. I got out, looked under the

hood, nodded to myself, closed the hood, and sat down

disconsolately on the side of the road.

Fuck.

I considered my situation. The nearest town was miles away. At

the very least, I had to get to a phone. It was obvious I had to flag

a passing motorist down and ask for a lift.

After about ten minutes a car appeared. I confidently positioned

myself at the side of the road and held out my hand.

The car glided past me as though I didn't exist.

"Fair enough." I muttered to myself.

It was another half an hour before another car appeared. This one,

unlike the last, looked modern and new. As it approached me, I

saw that it was a sports car. Black. Tinted windows. Travelling

about 200 k's an hour.

It decelerated smoothly and eased its way to the side of the road,

throwing up a cloud of dust that half choked me. The engine

hummed for a brief moment, then stopped.

After a moment, the door opened. As I watched, a long, slender,

definitely female leg extended itself from the vehicle. I was a little

disconcerted, because from where I was standing almost the entire

leg was visible, and from where I stood, there was no hemline.

Just the lacy top of a stocking. The foot clad in a shining, black,

stiletto pump.

I briefly considered the possibility that I was in a Hollywood

movie. This sort of shit doesn't happen, I reminded myself.

Out of the car slid a tall woman. She swung herself around to face

me, and assumed a casual stance, leaning against the door frame of

her sleek Porsche.

She was not the bleach blonde sort of beauty. She wasn't Pamela

Anderson. As soon as I set eyes upon her I knew she was from the

upper crust.

"Car problems huh ?", she commented.

I nodded. "Yeah."

She walked toward me. I judged her about five ten. She was

athletic of build. She appeared to be dressed for a ball. I didn't

realise that this was how people like her dress all the time. Her

hair was fair brown, very straight, and very long – nearly waist

length from what I could tell. She wore a black, strapless, evening

dress. It was very short. There was a necklace around her neck.

There were bracelets around her wrists. She was in her late

twenties I judged (actually she was 32 I was to learn later).

By the way she walked in those sharp heels, I knew she was used

to it.

Her body was absolutely perfect. My mind just switched off and I

stared at her stupidly. I hope my mouth wasn't open. She tells me

now it wasn't, but I find it hard to believe.

She stopped before me, hands in front folded at her lap, and

looked me over with a faint smirk. Then she glanced at the

smoking engine.

"Looks like you're up shit creek." She said brightly.

"Uh… yeah."

She glanced at me again and smiled coyly. "Lucky I came along.

I'm headed for Melbourne. You in a rush to get this repaired ?"

Luckily I wasn't. I was on summer vacation.

"No, it's no hurry. I was headed for Melbourne too."

"Well then. Hop in."

The next day was New Year's Day. Nothing would be open in any

of the towns along the way. I realise now that this was another

fortunate coincidence.

I found out her name was Elizabeth, that she was 32 and

single, that she was an executive in her father's business

Melbourne, and that she'd been visiting her grandfather. He was a

big pastoralist from what I could gather. Despite the obvious

difference in backgrounds, we seemed to click. She had, I

discovered, a similar sense of humour. And I just fell for her easy,

confident charm straight away. I forgot all about my broken down

car. She told me she'd have it taken care of. Her father knew

people. He was, she casually told me, a millionaire businessman

who "does anything I ask him to do."

I would watch her slender hands working on the gearshift,

the way those heavenly legs of her slid against one another and the

hem of her skirt, the rise and fall of her chest. I fell immediately in

love, and she drove with a faint smile on her lips as though she

knew very well the effect she was having on me.

When we got back, I plucked up the nerve to ask her out to

dinner. To my astonishment, she accepted.

It was at that dinner that she made it clear to me the way

things were going to proceed.

"I'm looking for a man at the moment." She told me matter

of factly. "But not just any man."

I nodded, trying to play it cool.

She looked at me steadily with those arresting blue eyes,

put her heel in my groin, and smirked. "I want a man who'll be my

slave."

I nodded again, my ears burning and my dick hardening

fiercely.

She chuckled quietly to herself. "Mmm. Looks like you

like the idea huh ?"

I laughed nervously, and nodded.

"You're perfect Adam. You're cute, and you're an average

guy. But don't think you're gonna get to fuck me in the near

future."

I stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say.

"At least not until I'm satisfied you're what I want."

I nodded. "OK."

After that, there was a brief period of silence, and then she

started talking to me about mundane matters again. She was the

woman I'd met on that lonely highway once more.

After that date, she didn't answer my calls for a couple of

weeks. I thought she'd lost interest in me. Then one day I got

home and found a letter in a scented envelope. Inside was an

invitation card that read thus :

Dearest Adam,

I'm currently in London on business. Come and see me. I've

enclosed the plane tickets. I've also included the car of the Hotel

I'm staying at. Call a cab there when you get to the airport.

Yours,

Elizabeth.

I was so excited! I couldn't believe it. This woman was

actually interested in seeing me again. I made immediate

arrangements; the flight was due to leave the next evening.

When I arrived in London, I bought a bunch of flowers,

and then I caught a cab as Elizabeth had suggested. It was a short

ride there, the hotel being right in the city centre. It was about 9.30

pm when I finally checked into the hotel. It was an expensive

hotel, I could see that; not the sort of place I'd normally be staying

at.

The man at reception said Elizabeth had left word saying I

was expected.

I was a little tired from the long flight as I made my way

up the stairs. When I got there I knocked.

Nothing. I knocked again.

Nothing.

I listened. No sounds from within. "Elizabeth ?", I called

through the door. "Are you there ?"

Nothing. I checked the number. It was definitely it.

Trying the door I found it unlocked. I stepped inside.

It was a huge room. No lights were on, but there were large

windows overlooking the city below and the lights from there

illuminated the place to some degree. After the cold air outside, it

was invitingly warm; I heard the soft hum of the central heating

system.

"Elizabeth ?" I called out again.

Closing the door, I walked in and looked around the lounge

area. An empty wine glass and a half filled bottle of red wine on

the table. There were two doors leading off the lounge room, one

on each side of me. And then I noticed a trail of what looked like

rose petals leading to the door on my right.

I walked over to the door, and hanging there off the door

handle was a small black pair of panties. I thought I heard voices

from beyond the door as I reached out and picked them up. They

were damp to the touch, and I knew for certainty they'd been

recently worn. As I examined them in the dim light, I could make

see quite clearly that the crotch area was soaked, and when I raised

it to my nose, I inhaled the unmistakable scent of a woman's

essence.

And now, quite clearly, through the door, I heard her voice.

She wasn't talking. She was moaning.

And I knew then what I would find beyond that door.

When I look back on it now, I realise that this was the first

clear indication I would get that any sort of relationship with

Elizabeth wasn't going to be ordinary. Whatever it was going to

be, it wasn't going to be ordinary.

Some men in that situation might have just turned and left,

and never returned. I guess if I had half an ounce of self-respect I

would have. But the truth is, I was already fascinated by her. Little

did I know that my humiliations had only just begun.

I turned the handle and walked through the door.

She was on a big queen sized bed facing me. She wore a

black lace corset with suspenders and black stockings, and black

high heeled shoes. She was kneeling on her knees, sitting in an

upright position, as she fucked a well built guy beneath her, who

was entirely naked.

When I came in she smiled sweetly at me as though

nothing peculiar was going on.

"Adam." She breathed, flashing her eyes at me. I wanted to

kill her, but all I could think of was how beautiful she was.

As in a dream I walked over to her and she held out her

hand in expectation of the flowers. I handed them to her.

"How gentlemanly of you."

The guy looked up at me with an expression that seemed to

say, on the one hand, "I am far too preoccupied with fucking this

gorgeous woman to concern myself about you," and on the other,

"So how are you going to react to me fucking your girlfriend ?"

She continued to hump, looking right into my eyes

steadily.

"Why are you doing this ?" I asked numbly.

After a moment she said, "What ?"

"I said : why are you doing this ?"

"Doing what ?"

"Fucking him. Who is he ?"

She laughed. "He's a guy I found at a bar. And

I'm fucking him because I feel like it. I told him you were coming.

I don't even know his name and I don't care."

"And you brought me here to watch. Is that it ?"

She slid off him and tossed the flowers aside, then slid over

off the edge of the bed and stood up. In her heels she was as tall as

me. She reached out and guided my arms around her waist,

placing them on her bare ass.

As I held those perfect globes in my hands I knew for sure

I was finished.

She eased forward and kissed me tenderly. My hands

massaged her beautiful butt.

Then she drew back and I watched her climb back on the bed with

the stranger. She faced me again, reached down to graps his semi erect

dick, and started coaxing it back to life. He ran his hands over her

ass and back, and pretty soon he was "standing to attention" again. She

guided his cock - about seven inches I judged (a bit bigger than mine)

into her, closing her eyes and sighing as she impaled herself on him.

Her eyes fluttered open again as she began slowly bouncing her

hips on his dick. "Take off those clothes, Adam. Then come here and kiss

me while I fuck this guy."

I took my clothes off as directed. It was quite obvious she didn't

give a damn about this guy. He was just someone to screw. In a way I was

flattered. They say that you only deliberately try to hurt those you care

about. Maybe that was the motivation for her behaviour?

I stood there naked, my cock hard as rock at the sight of this

woman of my fantasy fucking another guy before my eyes. I thought she

looked beautiful - she was lost in her own world as she closed her eyes,

the stranger's big hands reaching around to hold her firm breasts.

I climbed onto the bed, and came over to kneel in front of her.

She opened her eyes and smiled, leaned forward a little and kissed me

again. The stranger's hands had wandered down to her hips and ass again,

so I put my hands on her breasts. I bent down and started kissing them,

sliding my tongue around the nipples.

I ran my hands over her stocking tops, her upper thighs, over the

lacy material, the straps of the suspenders. Jesus was I dying to fuck her.

I got up again and put my face in her hair around her ear, nibbling

her earlobe. She moaned and squirmed with pleasure.

"Elizabeth." I whispered in her ear, my lower lip brushing her small

stud earring. "Tell this guy to go away. I want to make love to you, angel."

She turned her head to the side to kiss me again, ignoring me for a

moment. Then she put her hands on my cheeks and gently forced me to look into

her eyes.

"Just do this for me, Adam. Do it for me."

It wouldn't be the first time I heard those words from her.