Jill, my wife, and I attended the annual October formal of our dance club on a Saturday night. I was dressed in a standard tuxedo with a black bow tie. Jill wore a strapless, floor length forest-green sheath formal, spilt up the left leg to mid thigh, and a long string of pearls wrapped four times around her neck with the first loop tight against her throat and the last cascading to nestle against her breasts. Her blonde hair was in a bun. Her makeup was lightly applied with a hint of green eye shadow that drew attention to her emerald green eyes. Her lipstick was cherry red, matching her nails. Jill is five five, so her four inch heels brought her to my shoulder.
The dance was over at twelve thirty in the morning. As Jill and I visited with the crowd waiting for the parking valets to deliver our cars, she bubbled with excitement, giving her a sensual glow. When I eased my Mercedes from the parking lot and onto the street, Jill said, "Kyle came on to me again."
"I watched you dancing with him. It looked like he was making a hard pass," I replied.
"He was hard," she snickered.
"Did you get it?"
"Every word," she said proudly. "Do you want to hear it now?"
"Yes. Put it in the cassette player."
Jill opened her purse, popped the cassette in the player, and turned it on. I could hear myself, Jill, Kyle, and others, with a good deal of background noise. I heard Kyle ask Jill to dance and her acceptance. They made small talk as they worked their way to the dance floor.
I watched them when they danced. He'd pulled Jill close against him. She'd rested her midsection against his, but held her head back to look into his eyes. She gave him plenty of stimulation in the crouch area.
"You're so beautiful tonight," Kyle said.
"Thank you, Kyle," she replied. Her voice dripped with sexiness. "A lady always loves a compliment from a sexy man."
"Oh, you think I'm sexy?"
"Umm. You know I do."
"Quit teasing me."
"Why? We're both enjoying it."
"I'm not," he replied curtly.
"Oh, I thought you were," she said. Her musical voice was sensual teasing.
"I am, but..." he answered. "Dammit it, Jill, what's it going to take to get you in my bed?"
"Why would you want me in your bed?" she asked in an innocent, little girl voice.
"I wish I'd gone to high school here. I hear you were easy," he snarled.
"I was," she replied without rancor. "I would've screwed you then." Her voice dropped a whisper. "Things are different now. Now I'll screw you only if you ask the right way."
"How?" He was louder than he needed to be. "Tell me how, dammit it."
"Why should I?"
"Because I can't stop thinking about you."
"Even when you're with Emily?"
He sighed. "Sometimes."
"Just sometimes?" she pouted.
"A lot. Shit, it seems lately like I think of you every time I fuck her."
"Knowing you think of me while you're with your wife makes me feel special, Kyle. Thank you for telling me."
"That's how much I want you. You know that, don't that?"
"Yes, I know, but I'm Paul's wife. I can tease and fantasize, but not go any further... unless."
"Unless what?" he asked urgently. She didn't reply. "What?" he demanded.
"Unless Paul tells me to screw you."
Kyle gasped. "You're kidding me?"
"No. If Paul tells me to have sex with you, I'll gladly do it."
"Shit. Maybe I should just rape you."
Her voice was icy, her words clipped, when she replied, "I'm glad you think I'm worth a prison term, Kyle, but I'm not. If my teasing bothers you that much, I'll stop it. Maybe we shouldn't have any contact until you cool down."
"No. No. Don't do that," he begged.
"Do you really want me that much?" she asked, as if she were honored by his desires.
"You know I do."
"And now you know what to do to have me," she said with a lilt in her voice.
"Let's go outside," he pleaded.
"No, Kyle. I can feel your erection against my stomach. I don't trust you to get me alone in the dark," she teased.
He laughed bitterly. "I can't blame you there. I don't think I trust myself. Let's have sex without Paul knowing," he said. She didn't reply and there was a long silence. "Please, Jill," he whined. I smiled knowing how Jill despises a weak man. "I'd do anything."
"I don't believe you," she said, challenging him.
"Yes, I would do anything."
"You don't mean it because I told you what you have to do."
"I can't do that," he said dejectedly.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because he'll want Emily."
"Of course he will. He's wanted Emily since we were in high school. If you want me, you'll get Emily into his bed," she replied. The music stopped. I remembered she leaned against him to whisper in his ear. "I want you, but Paul will have to tell me to do it. He won't tell me to screw you unless he has fucked Emily." She kissed him gently on the cheek before she turned and walked away, leaving Kyle with his mouth hanging open. I heard the recorder click off.
"Beautifully done, Jilly. Simply beautiful. You played him like a fiddle," I said to her. She basked in my approval. "Did you get anymore?"
"No. I made a concerted effort to stay away from him for the rest of the evening. How did you do with Emily?"
"We danced three times. The first two we made appropriate small talk and she let me hold her closely. The third time, she initiated our closeness, and when she felt my cock poking into her belly, she didn't make an effort to pull away."
"I told you she wants you," Jill said triumphantly. "She's a hard nut to crack, that's all."
"I'm surprised Kyle didn't ask about your corset," I said.
"He did earlier. He put his arm around me when we first saw them, and asked at the first opportunity."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I liked the tight feel around me, like a man holding me to ready me for intercourse."
I laughed. "I almost feel sorry for Kyle having a predator like you after him."
"Like me? I'm only following my master's commands," she said sensually. She pressed her hand over my throbbing and erect cock in my trousers. "Would my master like for me to suck his cock?" she teased.
"When we get home, you'll do more than that."
"I hope so. My master makes me extremely horny," she murmured.
Jill, Emily, and I went to high school together. I was hard working, poor, smart, athletic, popular, and sexually active. Jill was filthy rich, spoiled, envied, and promiscuous. At the end of my junior year, I made Jill exclusively mine and began training her as I wanted her.
Her parents approved of our relationship and treated me like a son. Jill was a year behind me in school. Her father paid for me to go to Yale, withdrew her from our local high school, and sent her to a private school in New Haven. He paid for a large townhouse where Jill and I lived. We married after my freshman year in college. Five years later, when we returned to our hometown, I had B.A. and J.D. degrees, a golden financial situation, and a wife perfect for me.
Emily Wheaton was in Jill's class. They were best friends, which proves opposites do attract. Emily was as attractive as Jill, but while Jill was earthy and voluptuous, Emily was stately and classical. And while Jill was promiscuous until I took her in tow, Emily with the archetypical virgin queen.
When Jill and I returned from New Haven, Emily Wheaton was Mrs. Kyle Rogers. They met in college. Like me, Kyle was a ladies' man and he was damn good at it. He swept her off her feet, got her pregnant, and married her, all within a period of ninety days. After getting his bachelor's degree, Kyle and Emily moved back to our hometown and he joined her father's insurance agency, where he was a highly overpaid and undeserving executive.
From the moment Jill and I met Kyle Rogers neither of us liked him. It was a small town and Jill was Emily's best friend so we saw Emily and Kyle frequently. Our feelings about him only became stronger.
One day, I was naked in my easy chair. Jill, naked except for a collar around her neck and leathers on her wrists, was in my lap. Her mind had been far away for some time.
"I hate Kyle Rogers," she said. I didn't respond. About three minutes passed before she spoke again. "And I love Emily."
"Ah, there's the rub," I thought. Jill and Emily did love each other like sisters, and, like sisters, that love was sometimes jealousy or envy or hate. I wondered sometimes if Jill's love of Emily had sexual overtones even she didn't recognize.
I'd call Jill passively bisexual. She didn't seek out other women, but she enjoyed it when I told her to make love to one. During my senior year at Yale, another woman, Cassie, lived with us and shared our bed. Jill and Cassie had sex often. I'd brought other women into our lives for our mutual pleasure.
When I didn't reply to her comment, Jill said, "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, I did. I hate Kyle, too."
"And you love Emily, or you maybe you just want to fuck her," she said with a smirk.
"Both," I replied.
"I'm sick of Kyle. Of the way he treats her. Of his coming on to me all the time. Of his snotty, oily attitude." She slipped off my lap, went into the kitchen, and soon returned with a soda for both of us. "I want him out of our lives and out of this town," she said emphatically. She leered at me. "And I have a plan."
That's how it began. Jill began to act warmer toward Kyle, gently teasing him when he made a pass at her. Only a month later, at the dance, she recorded their conversation and played it for me.
.... There is more of this story ...