Fifty Shades of Evening's Bliss

The rain hammered against the windows of our bedroom, a relentless percussion accompanying the tension building between us. It had started subtly, a shared glance across the dinner table, a lingering touch during our usual evening routines. My wife, Eleanor, had recently discovered the world of e-books, specifically, the infamous "Fifty Shades of Grey." Initially, I’d dismissed it as another one of her impulsive decisions, easily swayed by her friends’ insistent encouragement. But as the days passed, I found myself drawn in, a quiet curiosity replacing my initial skepticism. The sub/dom themes, so prevalent in the narrative, piqued my interest, a forbidden thrill whispering at the edges of my awareness.

That night, after she’d fallen asleep engrossed in the latest chapter, I succumbed to the pull. The cover of the book, a stark black and white image, seemed to beckon me into its dark secrets. I carefully turned the pages, my heart pounding with a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation. The world of power dynamics, dominance, and submission felt both alien and undeniably appealing. I knew our lovemaking had always been an equal partnership, a meeting of minds and bodies, but the thought of exploring a more structured dynamic, one where I held a modicum of control, began to take root within me.

The next evening, she was still lost in the digital pages, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the iPad. "I'll finish this chapter then I'm done," she announced, her voice slightly distant, her attention solely focused on the screen. "No rush," I replied, busying myself with organizing my clothes for the day ahead, my mind preoccupied with the implications of her newfound obsession. The scarves hanging on the back of our bedroom door suddenly seemed significant, a silent acknowledgment of the shift in our dynamic. As I closed the wardrobe doors, a dark thought flashed through my mind: “This is where our love making is going to change.”

I retrieved two of her silk scarves, rich hues of emerald and sapphire, and slipped them discreetly into the pockets of my robe. They felt heavy, a tangible weight of the desire I was harboring. When Eleanor finally settled down for the night, her eyes still glued to the iPad, I approached the bed, a sly smile playing on my lips. "What are you up to?" I asked, straddling her, my movements deliberate and controlled. "Enjoying that sexy book, are we, Mrs. G?" she responded, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Ha, well, it's ok, I suppose. Better than the cookery one your mother got me for my birthday," she joked, her gaze returning momentarily to the screen.

The moment felt charged, a silent acknowledgment of my intentions. I reached for the scarves, pulling them out one by one. With swift, practiced movements, I tied her hands behind her back, not tightly, but just enough to limit her movements. "Now, Mrs. G," I declared, my voice firm and resolute, "I am in control and I decide what goes on tonight. You do as I say and nothing more or nothing less." Her laughter was brittle, laced with a hint of defiance. “Behave,” she said, clearly recognizing the shift in power.

I quickly covered her eyes with the next scarf, plunging her into darkness. With a calm, measured step, I removed my robe and shed my boxer shorts, a deliberate act of stripping away the familiar comfort of our usual routine. "What’s happening?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “You will see,” I replied, “Mr. P is going to look after you. Don’t worry.” Climbing back onto the bed, I leaned in and kissed her lips softly, my movements slow and sensual. "Now, let’s see how dirty I can be," I murmured, my lips tracing the delicate curve of her neck, then descending to kiss her skin all around. My hand gently lifted her breast from her nightgown, circling around her nipples, feeling their immediate hardening response to my touch. Moving down, I took it in my mouth, slowly licking in circular motions, then flicking with a playful intensity.

“Oh baby, that’s turning me on,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ve not even started,” I replied, pulling her thighs apart and lifting her nightdress to expose her pale, damp panties beneath. Nuzzling gently, I let out my warm breath on the fabric, savoring the anticipation that hung in the air. “You won’t need these,” I murmured, deftly pulling her panties off, diving straight back down to her glorious, exposed pussy, which was practically begging to be touched. "Do you like that?" I asked, parting her lips and giving a slow, deliberate lick from the tip of her clitoris.

“Oh baby, I’m going crazy here!” she panted, her breath coming in ragged gasps. As I continued my slow, rhythmic caress, her desperation became palpable. "I love the taste of this sweet pussy," I said, licking again, my tongue tracing every curve and crevice. "Want some more?" I inquired, her eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy. "Please baby, don’t stop,” she begged, her voice barely audible.

Pausing to assess her level of arousal, I said, “I’m stroking my hard cock now as I finger your tight little pussy,” and continued my assault, determined to push her to the very edge of pleasure. "You are wet," I observed, feeling the moisture accumulating beneath my fingertips, a testament to her mounting excitement. "Omg! Oh! Oh!" she cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure, as my finger continued its relentless dance across her clitoris. "Please, make me come, baby, please. I’m so close!” she pleaded, her grip tightening on my hand.

“Not yet, my girl, I’m enjoying myself too much and the taste is so good. It’s making me so hard,” I explained, watching her struggle to maintain control, my own arousal escalating with each passing moment. “I’m stroking my hard cock now as I finger your tight little pussy.” Her frantic pleas intensified, her body writhing in anticipation. "I want to see you wank, you know I love it," she begged, her voice choked with desire.

“Not just yet,” I said, gently pulling myself off the bed. “Open your mouth,” I ordered, placing my throbbing cock against her soft lips, “Lick it!” Her head lunged forward, her tongue eagerly claiming my offering. I held her head back, my grip firm but not painful, and said, “No, just lick it. I say when I want you to suck it.” Her tongue ran the full length of my penis, a thrilling sensation that sent shivers down my spine. “Good girl, that’s what I want. Now suck my balls,” I instructed, placing one of my testicles in her mouth and stroking my cock with my hand.

“Oh, that’s good,” I sighed, watching as the first sign of pre-cum appeared on the tip of my penis, a visual confirmation of the pleasure we were both experiencing. Sensing her mounting excitement, I returned to fingering her, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch. "Please fuck me!" she shrieked, her voice filled with raw desire.

I sensed that she was nearing her breaking point, her body trembling with anticipation. "Want me?" I asked, positioning myself between her legs. "More than ever," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "Ok, well, let’s see how bad," I said, pushing myself into her with a swift, decisive movement that took her breath away. "Omg, omg, omg," she cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as I continued my assault, relentless in my pursuit of her ecstasy.

I could feel her juices flowing down her thighs and soaking my balls, her first orgasm hitting me with a powerful wave of sensation. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried out, shaking her body with abandon, as I supported her legs, continuing the relentless rhythm. The second, third orgasms followed in quick succession, each one more intense than the last. She was shaking uncontrollably, her body completely consumed by pleasure. Looking down at her, I felt a surge of satisfaction, a primal thrill that resonated deep within my core. As I withdrew, I continued my ministrations, feeling the lingering warmth of her arousal against my own body. Her desperate pleas intensified, her grip on my hand becoming more frantic. I leaned down and kissed her lips, savoring the taste of her ecstasy. Her eyes, glazed over with pleasure, met mine, a silent acknowledgment of the power dynamic we had established.

“I’m coming!” she shrieked, her voice filled with raw, unadulterated pleasure. And then, with a final, explosive release, she lost control, her body collapsing into my arms. After we cleaned up, we snuggled together, both exhausted and completely satisfied. As I held her close, I realized that the experience had changed us, altered the dynamic of our relationship. "Next time," I whispered, my voice filled with a mischievous glint, "you'll be in control." And as she snuggled closer, I knew that our lovemaking, like all aspects of our lives, had been transformed by the allure of dominance and submission. The rain continued to fall, a gentle rhythm accompanying our shared intimacy, a testament to the intoxicating power of desire.

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Fifty Shades of Evening's Bliss

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