Elizabeth and I love playing games together. We explore fantasies and so long as we both enjoy them, anything goes. One of the games we play is for her to dance and flirt with other men while I watch.

We have a favourite bar we go to. The layout is perfect. There’s a long bar with mirrors behind it, plenty of space for sitting or standing and talking. It’s easy to see everyone, to see who’s hot. The bar dog-legs into another room with a dance floor with tables and chairs along one of the walls.

The lights are dim; light enough to see what’s happening and dark enough to sit quietly and not be observed too much. I can watch her flirting and dancing with other guys, sometimes kissing them. Perfect for us. We love this game. The excitement spirals. We come home, make love and explode.

But tonight, it’s different. Elizabeth decides to go out on her own. She’ll text and tell me what she’s doing. When she wants to. I can only reply. She tells me in a voice that brooks no argument, to lie naked in our bed and wait for her, and be awake at whatever time she comes home.

When she uses that voice, she’s in control. Controlling everything; what she does, where she goes, who she’s with, how long she’s out for. And she controls my orgasm. I can do nothing except obey her. It’s what I want. And what she loves.

I wash her hair and body in the shower. I lie naked on the bed, watching her. She doesn’t look at me. It’s like I don’t exist anymore. She dries her hair and chooses a short, red backless dress with a plunging neckline in which she looks stunning. There’s no way she can wear a bra with it and anyway, doesn’t want to. No man will be able to resist her, and she knows it.

She pulls on her stockings and a very brief pair of lilac knickers that always turns me on. Then her high heels. Her hair is beautiful, shining, long, seductive. She comes over to the bed and kisses me and tells me how much she loves me and that she’ll come back to me – but only when she’s ready. My cock is hard as she looks into my eyes, strokes my cheek, says, ‘good boy’, turns on her heels and walks down the stairs. I hear the front door slam and the taxi drive away; my beautiful, darling Elizabeth has gone.

The first text comes from the taxi:

E: Darling, I love you so much. I’m so hot and turned on

Me: I love you too and my cock is throbbing

E: Well you wait. No touching. Makes me even hotter to know you’re waiting

Me: I won’t touch and I’ll wait as long as I have to.

There are no more texts for twenty minutes and I’m aching for her. Then one arrives.

E: Have arrived at the bar. Pretty full

Me: Please look after yourself

Another ten minutes - then

E: Went to cloakroom. Came to bar. Been bought a cocktail.

Me: Who by?

E: A guy here. He’s ok but not what I’m looking for. No touching.

Me: I won’t touch but my cock is leaking

E: Good. Wait

I have very sensitive nipples and love the pain I get from squeezing them or when Elizabeth bites them. I’m not allowed to touch my cock but can squeeze my nipples and that turns me on even more while my mind plays, wondering what Elizabeth’s doing.

It’s another twenty minutes before a text arrives.

E: Darling, I’ve been dancing and lots of guys have come on to me.

Me: Anyone you fancy?

E: Yes there’s a really hot guy at the bar. Keeps looking at me.

Me: What are you going to do?

E: Going to get a drink!

I’m experiencing jealousy, abandonment, fear; but mostly excitement. What’s she doing? What’s he doing to her? I know Elizabeth loves me and we’re doing this together. But it’s another forty minutes before a text comes. The waiting is almost unbearable but so erotic.

E: Darling, i love you

Me: I know sweetheart. What’s happening?

E: The guy bought me a drink

Me: And?

E: He’s even hotter close up. I really fancy him

Me: Have you danced with him?

E: Yes. And he’s kissed me

Me: On the lips?

E: Yes. I’m so wet

Me: What are you going to do?

E: What would you like me to do? I hope you’re still waiting

Me: What do YOU want to do?

E: Truth?

Me: Yes

E: I want him to fuck me

I feel my stomach clench. This is the point of no return. I can’t reply.

E: You ok?

Me: Yes. Are you going with him?

E: Does it excite you?

Me: Yes my darling. I love you so much and I want you to be free

E: I must go now because he’s waiting for me by the door

Me: Please be careful

E: :-)

It’s another two hours before I get another text. Two hours during which I move from being jealous, to so turned on, to angry with myself at letting my gorgeous woman be with another guy. She has told me to wait, not touch and I’m obeying her though I want to cum so badly.

E: Still waiting my darling?

Me: Yes. Where are you?

E: I’ll be leaving soon. Richard’s going to drive me home

Me: Will he just drop you off?

There was no reply. So, she’s actually done it. My darling woman is coming home to me after being fucked by another guy.

I have done what I was told to do from the moment Elizabeth went out for the evening. Now she has sent me a text telling me her new lover is bringing her home. I don’t want her to bring him into the house. This is our home.

I hear the key in the door and Elizabeth talking to someone. There’s silence and I know they are kissing on the doorstep. I find the thought of her kissing a guy as erotic as her being fucked. There’s a sense of abandonment with kissing, especially when a woman puts her arms round a man’s neck and tilts her head back, her lips inviting him.

The door shuts and I hear her go into the kitchen. I want her to call up to me, to come to me and tell me she loves me, that everything’s ok. She has spent the evening with another man and I have no idea what state she’s in. I feel a delicious, humiliating helplessness. Then a text arrives.