My Two Sides
I’ve always had two very different sides to my personality; my submissive side, and my dominant side.
My husband, and the people that work for me pretty much just see my dominant side, while Johnny and most of the other bulls in my life mostly just see my submissive side. Very few people have ever really seen both.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only woman with a split personality like this. I’m sure I’m not, but it sure feels that way sometimes.
Lately I seem to be drawn to the extremes of both dominance and submission, and find myself wanting to intensify my experiences in both directions. Like really intensify them!
Last night I instructed my husband to finish what he was doing, go upstairs and take a shower, get into bed and warm it up for me.
But instead of doing as I asked right away, he kind of puttered around and took his time finishing up. Consequently it took him over an hour to get himself in the shower from the time I asked. I was more than a little annoyed that he didn’t immediately do as I asked… because he knew I had to get up really early to get to the airport, and he knew I wanted him to service my pussy before I fell asleep, seeing as how I was going to be gone until next Thursday.
I should have perhaps taken it in stride, but one thing I know about my husband, and most men I think, is that if they think they can just do and get away with whatever they want, it only gets worse over time.
Most men need discipline in their life, and discipline is most effective and always comes best from the woman they love, whether it’s their mother when they’re little boys, or their wives when they’re adults.
At any rate, I decided that a good hard disciplinary spanking was in order, and not just with my hand.
I was still packing my bags as he got into bed. “I need you to get the leather belt from the closet for me, sweetie… the thin red one I used on you the last time you disobeyed me. It seems that you maybe need a little reminder of my authority before I leave tomorrow.”
“What do you mean? What did I do?”
“You know what you did. When I ask you to finish up and get in the shower, I don’t mean an hour later whenever you feel like it.”
“Yes ma’am. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I won’t do it again. I just lost track of time.”
“I didn’t ask you for an explanation, and I can’t say I really care to hear it. What I did ask you to do is get the thin red leather belt for me.”
He did as he was told. I then asked him to “assume the position for me, sweetie… over the edge of the bed. Put your ass up high for me.”
He didn’t answer back, he just did it. I then proceeded to give him ten hard swats with the belt, letting each one sink on before the next. By the sixth one he was in tears.
After it was over I rubbed his hot red striped bottom and counseled him as he lay on his stomach on the bed. He was still sobbing, telling me how sorry he was.
“I don’t appreciate it when you disappoint me. You’ve been doing so good lately. I’ve been so proud of my PussyBoy.”
“I’m sorry Mistress. I want you to be proud of me. I’m really trying.”
“I expect you to be a good boy while I’m gone. That means your penis stays locked up. No looking at porn. No masturbating. I expect you to be courteous and respectful of all women you interact with. We’ve talked about that. And early to bed by 10pm every night.”
“I’ve given the emergency key to Gina, in case you need it. She knows what the rules are. If you have a problem while I’m in Seattle you can call her. In case something comes up and you have to call her, I expect you to be respectful towards her, and do what you’re told.”
“I know you don’t like the fact that I’ve told her everything, and that you’re my PussyBoy. But she’s one of my best friends. I trust her.”
“If I hear back that you’ve been anything less than totally respectful with her, and do what she tells you to do, you can expect to get the belt every night for a week. And have three months added to your lock up period. Understand?”
“Good. Now be a good PussyBoy and show me what you’re good for. Make me cum with that wonderful mouth and tongue of yours so I can get a good night sleep.”
He then proceeded to eagerly service my cunt and my asshole like he hadn’t tasted it in months, like he was trying to make up for his misbehavior.
If I hadn’t have been so tired and frazzled I probably would have taken his ass with my strap-on one last time before leaving town for a week, but I was too tired.
I could tell that he seemed to be a little surprised that I didn’t fuck him. I think he was expecting it. It’s interesting how getting the strap-on has become such a normal part of his experience, and that he actually seems to miss it when I don’t fuck him with it.
Instead we spooned and fell asleep together, with his right hand cupping my breast, feeling his warm breath and soft kisses on my neck. It was perfect!
The next morning we got up at the same time. My hubby left before I did, and I was still running late.
I had asked Johnny a few days before if he could drive me to the airport because it’s on his way to work. He was exactly on time… Johnny’s like that. He texted me that he was outside, while I rushed to get ready.
On the way to the airport Johnny was touching and rubbing my legs like he does when we’re driving, asking me about my trip, what it was for, and all that. After about five miles I was dripping wet, and he knew it.
Rather than just drop me off in front like I thought he was going to do, he parked instead in the short-term parking garage. Then reached over to kiss me.
Kissing is one of those emotionally intimate things that (from what I read) some hotwives apparently don’t do or have a rule against or try to avoid doing with their bulls. I’ve never understood that. I love kissing Johnny. He’s an amazing kisser. Why would I want to not do that?
I thought Johnny just wanted a quick hug and a kiss, but as I soon discovered, he wanted more. He wanted a blowjob.
I was like “Johnny! I’m late! I gotta go!”, and he was “nawww, we got time, baby.”
“I’d love to sweetie, but I really gotta go. I”ll make it up to you when I get back. I’ll suck it for you all day if you want me to. But I still have to check in luggage!”
But Johnny was having none of it. And he was done talking.
He lifted his hips off the seat, undid his pants, and pulled out his cock. It was already hard, sticking straight up, bobbing around like it was looking for something. My lips apparently.
With his right hand he grabbed a handful of my hair on the back of my head, and forced my head down on his crotch. “Get your fucking mouth on it, bitch. Don’t you fucking tell me no!”
Johnny has two sides himself. The nice sweet smooth-talking jazzy black man that can talk a Church-going white girl out of her panties with a wink and a smile. And the rough aggressive thug stud that will rip a girl’s panties off and fuck her on the floor in front of her boyfriend before she even knows his name. Honestly, with Johnny, I’ve never seen any other mode. Personally, I love both!
And so there I was at the airport, in the parking garage… tons of other people around, driving behind us, parking, opening up their trunks to get their luggage, rushing to catch their flight.
I was freaking out, worried that I was going to miss my flight while Johnny held my head and made me suck his cock. And not just suck it, he was being very aggressive and was pretty much fucking my face with it.
At one point he pulled up my head by the hair, and his cock kind of popped out of my mouth, and he asked me “you like the taste of that, bitch?”
I was thinking… ok, now I can go… and said “Johnny, please… I really have to go.”
I saw the flash of his left hand and a fraction of a second later felt him smack me across the face with it. Really hard! If we had been at home, in the great room, you would heard the sound from across the room.
“Suck the cock, bitch. You know what you good for. Drain my fucking balls. Then you can go catch your fucking plane.”
Three hours later, on the plane, thinking about last night with my hubby (and feeling a little bit guilty for maybe being a little too harsh with him, and just realizing how lucky I am to have such a wonderful loving understanding husband who loves me so much)…
… and thinking about Johnny (being so aggressive with me, treating me like his personal whore, making me suck his cock in the parking garage, not caring who saw us, not caring that I was late, then swallowing all his thick creamy cum, then having to fix my hair and make-up and lipstick afterwards in the visor mirror)…
… I had this calm warm blissful feeling come over me.
I love my two sides, my dominant side, and my submissive side. I love every bit and every part of it.
I love my hubby. Deeply, unconditionally. And I think I’m falling in love (or lust or something) with Johnny.
I’m a little scared, nervous sometimes, and a little worried about where this might be going. But the way I feel right now, I never want this to end.