Part 4 - She has Fantasies Too!

She didn't plan to bring it up that night.

They were curled up in bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm light across his face. Her head rested on his chest, the quiet rhythm of his breathing grounding her. They'd been together twenty-six years. They'd weathered storms, raised kids, made a life out of ordinary days--and yet something had shifted between them recently.

Ever since she'd taken control.

The night she'd bound him. Gagged him. Flogged him. Fucked him with power and purpose until he was wrung out and quiet beneath her. That night had awakened something inside her. Not just confidence, not just dominance--something deeper. Desire. Ownership. Hunger.

And more than anything, clarity.

She had fulfilled his needs for years--willingly. But now, after all they had explored, all they had built, she realized it was time for something that was hers.

Truly hers.

"I've been thinking," she said softly.

He hummed, not looking away from the ceiling. "Yeah?"

She shifted slightly, pulling the blanket higher. "I have a fantasy."

He turned his head then. His full attention.

"I want to be with someone else," she said. "With you there. Watching."

His brows lifted slightly. No shock. Just careful listening.

"I want someone younger. Maybe an escort. Not someone I have to talk to or connect with emotionally. Just physical. Someone I can use. Someone who'll fuck me hard and well and leave. But you're there. Bound. Gagged. Helpless. And watching every second."

His breath hitched, but he said nothing.

She continued, "This isn't about punishment. Or jealousy. It's not because of the ED--or the times the pills don't work. It's not because you've failed me. You haven't. You've given me more love, more loyalty, more attention than I ever imagined I'd deserve. But..."

She paused.

"... you've had your space. Your submission. Your deepest needs fulfilled. And now I want mine."

She sat up straighter, heart steady now.

"I want to be taken. Roughly. Completely. With no hesitation. And I want to see you see it. Not from a place of humiliation. But from connection. Knowing you gave this to me. That you're still part of it. Even if you don't touch me."

He swallowed hard. "You wouldn't look away?"

She smiled. "Never. My eyes would be on you the whole time."

He nodded slowly. "Okay. I want that. With you."

⸻

The Night

Everything was arranged.

They'd spent weeks planning it--together. No surprises. No missed signals. They found a young escort who understood the limits, the rules. No talking. No intimacy. Just respect, control, and presence.

She wore a black silk robe, loosely tied. Underneath--nothing.

He sat bound to a chair across the room. Naked. His wrists secured behind him. Ankles tied down. A firm red ball gag strapped between his lips. The familiar plastic cage locked around his cock. The collar snug on his neck.

She looked at him first.

Her gaze was calm. Warm.

"I love you," she whispered.

His head dipped. He nodded.

Then she dropped the robe.

Her body was strong, soft, glowing with confidence and years of experience. She stepped forward as the escort entered. Young. Fit. Silent.

He stood behind her, naked but still waiting.

She didn't hesitate.

She guided his hands up to her breasts. He cupped them gently at first--then with firmer intention. She arched slightly. Her breath caught in her throat as his thumbs found her nipples, teased them until they hardened. Then pinched. Rolled. Pulled.

Her moan was quiet, but it was real.

And she looked straight into her husband's eyes.

He was already breathing heavier. Already squirming in the chair. She could see the way his chest rose. How tightly he clenched the arms behind the backrest.

But it wasn't jealousy in his eyes.

It was awe.

Pride.

She parted her legs slightly. The escort's hand slid down her stomach. Then between her thighs. His fingers found her clit, stroked softly, then more deliberately. She gasped--her knees wobbling.

And she never looked away.

Even as he slipped two fingers inside her.

Even as she came--standing, shaking, hips grinding against the rhythm--she kept her gaze locked on her husband's.

I'm still yours, her eyes said.

You gave me this.

When she could breathe again, she moved to the bed and lay back, thighs wide, glistening. Her body open. Her hands reaching behind her, welcoming him in.

The escort climbed onto the bed behind her.

She guided him inside slowly.

She moaned again as he filled her--every inch pressing deep. Her hips rose to meet his. Her mouth fell open. Her fingers gripped the sheets.

Her eyes found her husband once more.

Bound. Silent. Eyes wide. Cheeks flushed.

With her. Every moment.

The thrusts grew harder. Deeper. She fucked back against him now, owning it. Commanding it. Taking what she wanted, what she craved--and showing it to the only man whose opinion mattered.

Her husband's body trembled in the chair. His cock strained against the cage. He was helpless to act. But fully present.

She came again--harder this time. Crying out into the room as her body shook, her fingers digging into the mattress. She let it happen. She let him see her unravel. Not with shame. With pride.

She was powerful in her surrender.

And he was right there with her.

⸻

After

The escort left without a word.

She didn't move for a moment--just let the sweat cool on her skin, her breath come back in slow waves.

Then she walked across the room to him.

She knelt at his feet.

His chest was heaving. His eyes were red. But he was smiling behind the gag.

She unbuckled it slowly, let it fall from his lips.

He whispered, hoarse and low: "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She felt tears prick behind her eyes.

"You were with me the whole time," she said softly.

He nodded. "I didn't feel left out. I felt more... part of you than ever."

She undid his wrist restraints, then his ankles.

He didn't try to stand.

He folded into her, head resting against her chest. Arms around her waist.

She stroked his hair.

"This wasn't about anyone else," she whispered. "It was about us. It still is."

"I know," he said. "And I've never loved you more."

⸻

That Night

They lay in bed, bodies tangled, hearts quiet.

Her hand rested on his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles on her thigh.

"You were glowing," he whispered.

"You were solid," she said. "You held the space. That made all the difference."

"I didn't feel less of a man," he said after a while. "I felt like I gave you something no one else ever could."

She kissed his jaw. "You did."

And as they drifted into sleep, wrapped in silence and skin, she knew something had changed--not broken. Not shifted away.

Expanded.

There were still years ahead. Still trust to build. Still boundaries to explore. But now, they'd gone somewhere few couples dared to go--honestly, nakedly, lovingly.

Together.