Making Him Watch
Freddy’s elegance and obvious desire to please me swept me off my feet. After we married, I realized he was too nice. I like sex rough and varied. He isn’t jealous; it excites him to see me flirt, turn other guys on. That's how I got the idea that making him watch a hot stud or two banging me would give him some serious inspiration and be fun for me, too. More
Freddy’s elegance and obvious desire to please me swept me off my feet. After we married, I realized he was too nice. I like sex rough and varied. He isn’t jealous; it excites him to see me flirt, turn other guys on. That's how I got the idea that making him watch a hot stud or two banging me would give him some serious inspiration and be fun for me, too.
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
“You should move in with me,” he said.
“Really?” The idea of getting out of my crappy apartment and living in this lovely house was incredible.
“You’d have to quit work. That would be a bad combo. But I want to take care of you,” he said. “I want to see you happy.”
“And I’d do what?”
“You’d be my lovely girlfriend. You’d be here for me. You could take classes or something. I’d give you an allowance so you had spending money.”
Who could argue with that? Not me. I agreed.
He took me shopping for clothes. “You always look good,” he said, “but now that you are mine, I want you to look more than nice when we went out. I want you to be incredibly desirable. Whether it’s a social event or business, I want you to be the sexiest, hottest woman there,” he said. “I want people to notice you the moment we walk in the door; I want men and women to see you with me and be jealous of me.”
I was delighted to oblige. Freddy seemed to be the opposite of a jealous man. He had the money to hire people to dress me the way he wanted, and I loved the hot girlfriend vibe. Of course, that meant that I got more than my fair share of lusty looks. But Freddy loved that. He encouraged me to dance with other men, while he watched. “Don’t be shy,” he told me. “If you like a guy, let him know.” That surprised me, but he seemed to mean it. Again, jealousy wasn’t his thing.
“You won’t get angry?” I asked.
“Not as long as you are going home with me,” he said. “You can be nice to them; I like seeing how you excite them.” He put an arm around my waist. “But then I take you to my bed.”
Cautiously, I tested the waters and found out he meant what he said. In fact, when I flirted with other men, it turned him on big time. In his limo on the way home, he’d ask me what attracted me about a guy I’d danced with, what about the guy excited me. While it made me feel awkward, I learned to be honest. The reward was a great night of sex.
“The dark-haired guy had a way of touching me that got me going,” I’d say. Or, “the guy with the crewcut seemed like he’d do whatever he wanted to a girl once he got her alone.”
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