To paraphrase an obvious and often-stated maxim: a man always notices when a beautiful woman walks into the room. There is a lesser known—but still true—corollary: a woman always notices when a beautiful woman arrives.
I certainly noticed the tall, stunning blonde woman in the silver fox coat checking out the latest Borgezie stilettos as I sat, waiting for the attendant to bring out the new Stuart Weitzman boots I was going to try on.
I was surprised and, to be honest, amused. For the first time in a long time, I was not the most noticeable woman in the room. Sure, I could give her a run for her money, and yes, I looked every bit as stylish in my golden sable jacket and skin-tight jeans as she did in the silver fox swing coat she wore. And, maybe, if someone preferred brunettes- eh, who was I kidding? She won.
Who was she? A professional athlete’s wife? Some old tycoon’s latest squeeze? Women her age—and I guessed she was in her late twenties—usually couldn’t afford her style on their own. Someone was paying the bill. Not that I’m judging. I know I wouldn’t be sitting in a shoe boutique on upscale Mercer Drive this Saturday afternoon without Richard’s money.
I scanned the room for her beau, as antifeminist as that sounded. I didn’t see any handsome or well-dressed men. In fact, the only other man there, besides my husband, was a short, pot-bellied man with a conspicuous limp. However, even more noticeable than his handicap was his high forehead. It was like his receding hairline, the unfortunate shape of his skull, and all the veins it showcased, combined to make him look like he had a large, grotesque head.
I involuntarily gasped when I saw him. It was rude, and I hoped he hadn’t heard.
“Get whatever you’d like, my sweet,” he croaked to the blonde.
She giggled with delight.
I couldn’t look away, my brain not accepting what I saw. How was a guy like him able to get a girl like her? Did she owe him money? Was he a drug lord? Was she a prostitute? She certainly didn’t look it. Her hair, make-up, and stylish clothes were tastefully arranged, expertly selected. Not trashy or particularly slutty, by any means. Believe me, I know this kind of stuff. How could someone like her be with an odd, almost grotesque, man like him? There had to be a reason beyond how much money he could have.
He sat at a bench across from mine, as I continued waiting for my boots. I froze inside, hoping he didn’t see me tense at his nearness. What was taking the saleswoman person so long?
“Hello,” I said, managing a polite smile.
He said nothing. He looked at me. It was creepy. I looked away, scanning for the absent saleswoman, then at a display in the window. I looked back at him to see if he was still staring. He was. In fact, he looked directly into my eyes. I found myself staring back like it was a contest, hoping he would eventually look away. He didn’t. I felt an unusual tingling in the back of my head. It felt so good and distracting, I forgot I was still looking into this man’s eyes. I lost track of my thoughts as pleasant tingles spread to the rest of my body. Was he doing this? I felt myself warming to his presence. If looking at him was causing me to feel so good, I wanted to stare into his eyes forever.
“Ellie, Ellie,” somebody said. I could barely hear it, it sounded like hearing someone underwater. Something pulled at my arm from miles away. I hoped whatever was disturbing me wouldn’t take me away from the man’s eyes.
But I was pulled away from those eyes and blinded by sudden brightness. We were outside. I didn’t remember walking through the store.
“Are you alright?” asked my husband, Richard, who was gripping my arm.
“What?” I asked, dazed.
He pulled me by the arm down the sidewalk. People stared at what looked like a rough, abusive scene, but steered clear.
“Richard!” I screamed. “Let me go! What are you doing?”
I slapped at him with my free arm, until he let go. I was barefoot, I realized. Good thing it was Mercer Drive, not Farkson Street.
“What the hell’s going on?” I asked. “Have you lost it?”
“Not me, babe,” Richard said, apparently concerned. “You. We’re almost to the Mercedes. I’ll explain everything. Are your feet okay? I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“They’re fine,” I said. “Can’t we go back for my shoes?”
“No way,” he said.
“And why the hell not?” I asked, getting into the now-unlocked car. “Those were special-order Blahniks.”
“We’ll get you another pair,” he said, getting into his seat and shutting the door. He started the car.
“Okay,” he said, visibly calmer after we’d traveled a few blocks. “Do you know who that was?”
“The freaky-looking guy with the forehead that you were staring at!” Richard said. “With your mouth hanging open, by the way.”
“No?” I said. “Do you know him?”
“That was MidMan!”
“Who?” I asked.
“He’s the fucking MidMan!” Richard said. “I might have to get extra security for awhile. Son of a—”
“He’s dangerous?” I asked.
“You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of MidMan?” Richard asked. “Enemy of the Nuclear Kid?”
“I’ve heard of the Nuclear Kid,” I said.
“Everyone has,” Richard said. “He used to be on the news every five minutes.”
“Is this MidMan in the League of Heroes or something?”
“No, he’s a Super Villain, Ellie!” Richard said. “Remember in like ’95 or ’96? The accident that created the Nuclear Kid? He’s the guy!”
“I was like, thirteen or fourteen in ’95,” I said. “Remember? You’re a few years older than me. Also, I didn’t live on this side of the country then.”
“I’ll never forget it,” he said, staring at the road. “MidMan caused the accident that created the Nuclear Kid. Originally, he was a middle manager at the nuclear plant. He tried to give himself low-level radiation poisoning so he could sue the plant and retire. He was screwing with the valves or something when it caused an explosion.
“He and an intern, who became the Nuclear Kid, were the only ones in the plant when it exploded. The Nuclear Kid got his powers, which you’ve seen on TV. But, the manager got mental abilities. It was a scary few weeks when he was testing his powers. Normal citizens robbing banks or shooting up grocery stores. Random acts of chaos. No one knew who was secretly working for him, or when he would strike next.”
“Jeez,” I said. “That’s horrible.”
“Yeah,” Richard said. “He took one of my best friends. Used him as a human shield in this huge fight with the Nuclear Kid. It was the first “hero battle” Elm City had ever seen. One of the guys at the paper overheard Nuclear Kid call him MidMan to taunt him, and it stuck. He hates that name.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” I said. “Wait, why isn’t he in jail then? He sounds like a terrorist. Why does he get to walk around expensive shoe stores with a hot date, instead?”
“Well, it’s complicated,” he said. “They can’t really give him a fair trial because he keeps manipulating judges into letting him go. They once tried to bypass the trial and locked him up in solitary confinement at a Supermax, with all the guards wearing noise-cancelling headphones, but he somehow got out. Basically, the city lets him walk free as long as he doesn’t cause too much fuss. Because they can’t do anything about it, outside of killing him.
“After the government had the Bee Keeper executed without a trial, the humanitarian groups banded together overwhelmed the press and sued the state for an ungodly amount. I guess they just figure if he tries anything big, the Nuclear Kid will come back to save us. Of course, if he does, he should rename himself the Nuclear Man. He’s forty-something now, I think.”
“Well, I don’t need the Nuclear Kid to come save me,” I said, putting my hand on his. “I’ve got my own hero.”
I wasn’t just trying to butter him up; he was my hero. Seven years ago, I was applying to be a personal assistant to a tech start-up CEO. I had struggled through a tough, single-parent childhood, paid my own way though college, and wanted to make myself into a somebody. Suffice it to say, I got the job. And the CEO.
Richard and I fell in love. We married, and he gave me the life I fantasized about. He also takes care of my mother, though her life of ease is on the West Coast—three thousand miles away—so that is even more perfect.
We waved to Dan, the security guard, that sits at the entrance to our gated neighborhood and we drove up our long driveway into the garage. During the ride, I had my hand on Richard’s knee, and slowly slid it up his thigh. I could feel a warm stiffness greet me and I caressed it lightly, smiling at Richard.
When we were inside, I headed upstairs.
I called down to him, “Why don’t you make yourself a drink and meet me in the bedroom in ten minutes? I need to give my hero a proper thank-you for rescuing his damsel.”
“You got it!” he called, and I could hear the smile in his voice. Then, ice cubes clinking into a glass as he hummed.
I went upstairs and slipped out of my sable jacket, then my other clothes. I applied a new layer of foundation, eye shadow, and lipstick. I tussled my hair a little and put on a new, satin black teddy which Richard had never seen. I know that Richard loves me, and I don’t think he’d ever stray. However, having a super hot wife at home who regularly fucks his brains out makes straying a lot less likely. I know how the world works.
I decided a little more spice would heighten tonight’s flavor. I went to the closet and selected a crystal fox fur stroller to wear over the teddy. Richard once told me early in the relationship that he’d seen a woman on The Sopranos seduce her husband, wearing nothing but a fur coat, and it became his fantasy. Every now and then, I would wear a fur to bed to really push Richard’s buttons.
I admired my handiwork in the mirror. God, I looked hot. It was no mystery why Richard chose me. I had been beautiful since I was about nine or ten. I’ve used it to better my situation my entire life. Not like a hooker would, but more like maximizing the gifts I’ve got. Like I said, I know how the world works.
When I “freshen up,” Richard knows not to come upstairs until I re-open the bedroom door. It’s our tacit signal, like a tie on the doorknob. I also like to put on moisturizer and perfume, just to be sure I’m in top condition. It makes me feel sexy, and he certainly likes it.
Looking at myself in the mirror, running my hands over myself and the fox fur coat, I remembered the woman at the boutique earlier. She also wore a fox fur stroller. Did I steal the idea from her without realizing it? Well, I didn’t fault her taste. I lowered one of the teddy’s straps, freeing a breast, and caressed it with the sleeve of my fur coat. It felt amazing. I wondered if she was doing something similar, wearing a fur coat naked for MidMan.
If the way I felt earlier was any indication, she was having a wonderful time in her mind. Was she even aware of her actions, or had he taken over her mind completely? I felt warm and it wasn’t just the fur coat. My hand snaked down to my clit as I imagined it, wondering how it would feel. I saw it clearer in my imagination than most of my other fantasies.
I pictured myself there, sitting on a giant blue fox blanket in the middle of a large round bed. Fox fur stoles were scattered on the bed all around me. Looking down at myself, I was wearing nothing but my crystal fox fur coat. And I wasn’t alone. Beside me sat MidMan, but on my other side was his beautiful blonde companion. She was wearing only the silver fox swing coat I saw her in earlier. She smiled at me and licked her lips.
I felt myself smile at the fantasy. Normally, my sexy daydreams didn’t include women, but seeing her there heightened the arousing atmosphere. Being alone with MidMan wouldn’t have felt the same. Not as forbidden and exciting.
I was blushing so hot, that my ears burned. I gazed at both of them, looking so sexy and perfectly matched. Midman had seemed so odd looking at first, but now he was the most attractive man I had ever been around. I knew I was married, and I shouldn’t give in to these feelings, but who doesn’t have a stray fantasy now and then? It wasn’t like it would go anywhere. Despite that, it still felt forbidden, like something in the back of my head was warning me. But that faded as my heated excitement over the masturbatory dream took over. I wanted to touch both of them, and in my reverie, I did.
I ran my hands—then my fur coat’s sleeves—over his hairy chest, then let my fingers run through her silky blonde hair. Erotic feelings consumed me, I lost all inhibitions, and gave in to the feelings, wanting to feel naked animal heat all over and inside me. He took my hand and led it to the front of her soft silver fox coat. I stroked it slowly, reveling in its plush sensuality, as I looked into her eyes.
Then, he led my hands deeper inside the coat, past the lapels, and to her breasts. I caressed their velvet softness at first, reveling in their roundness and warmth. Then, I buried my hands in my fur coat’s sleeves and rubbed them over her bare chest. She moaned at my touch, her lips parting. While my hands and fur sleeves explored her, he reached around me from behind and gently felt up the front of my fox coat and body. I quivered as he did to me what I was doing to her. Helpless and vulnerable and like putty in his strong arms. My hands traced down her body, feeling her breath catch and tremble as I stopped just above her navel.
He leaned over and whispered in my ear to kiss her. I leaned forward, her face beautiful and so close to mine, as I obeyed him. It felt so natural and right. Timidly, my lips made contact, just enough to feel her sticky lip gloss. When she leaned in to kiss me back, her warm lips reassured me, and I kissed her back more deliberately, hungrily. I gently opened her mouth with my tongue and we tasted each other’s kisses, which grew in heat, intensity, and longing.
Meanwhile, I felt him planting small kisses down my back as he slipped my fur coat off. I shrugged out of it, helping him uncover my nudity, without breaking lip contact with her. She removed her fur coat, as well. Now all three of us were naked, surrounded on a bed of furs.
I slid my hands down her back, grasping the backs of her shoulders, before sliding them down, cupping her buttocks, and pulling her closer to me. Our breasts touched, sending ripples of desire through me, I leaned down and kissed one of them, my tongue laving over them, smiling up at her. I took her nipple in my mouth, alternating between licking and sucking. She looked down at me, eyes hooded, and moaned, nodding quickly in encouragement.
I felt his large, hot hand descend between my legs. I sucked her nipple deeper into my mouth and she yelped with pleasure, shivering in delight. I traced my fingers down her stomach again, this time ending between her legs. She was so moist and warm. He slipped a finger into me with ease as I slipped mine into her without resistance. The three of us were so intertwined, it made my head swim in euphoria.
He whispered in my ear, “Lay her down.”
I reached up, placing my hands on her shoulders, and guided her down onto the bed’s soft fur. She spread her legs in anticipation, looking up at me with desire in her hooded eyes. I wanted her more than anything. I couldn’t remember if he told me that or if I thought it myself. He invited me to taste her and gently guided my head down to her glistening delta. My mouth watered and I felt myself grow warmer around his fingers, still inside me. A part of me remembered that I never harbored a lesbian thought, but this fantasy was so hot, so realistic that I swore I could smell her scent; I wanted to taste it more than I ever wanted anything. I leaned down and she cooed in delight as I tentatively licked her outer lips. Then, I grew bolder and licked her inner lips barely brushing her love button with my tongue. I felt her quiver and run her hands through my hair.
I was bent over her and felt his hardness brush against my ass. I felt his entire length glide into my pussy as I laved my tongue over her wetness, savoring her salty juices. She bucked and whimpered. I could tell she was close to orgasm, so I darted my tongue into her hot slit, in and out, making sure to hit her nub just right every time. I buried my tongue in her as I felt the telltale shakes and heard her passionate cries. She exploded into my mouth, a sudden surge of juices I eagerly lapped up and swallowed, her warmth sliding down my throat. I was lost in my lustful frenzy, wanting to taste all of this woman who I craved.
A weak, post-coital smile crossed her lips, as she watched him fuck me from behind, which caused me to moan into her pussy. He slid his huge manhood out of me and rolled me onto my back, which thrilled at the soft fur bedspread against my back. She sat up and pulled me up into her arms, her warm breasts against my back, as she nuzzled me, planting kisses on my neck. She tilted my head, leaned over, and kissed me hungrily, tasting herself on my lips.
He stood up, between my legs, and positioned himself at my opening. She held me up with her body, while leaning down, and sucking and fondling my breasts with some of the fox fur stoles. My nipples delighted at her feminine attention. In my mind, I was begging him to enter me and give me the release I needed so badly. I begged him to take me, to fill me with his essence.
He entered me in one long stroke, his whole self deep inside me. He rolled his hips, back and forth, plunging deeper into me than any other man had, and pulling back before thrilling my pussy again and again. I cried out in surprise, then in waves of roiling pleasure, coursing through me. He was so deep inside me, I could feel his warmth in my face.
Meanwhile, she was stroking my body with the furs as he was thrusting savagely into me. She held me in her arms, speaking for the first time. She cooed, tempting me with the furs as he was blowing my mind apart with pleasure. She told me what a privilege it was to be his, to feel him living in her mind forever, so comforting and wonderful. She said I was chosen me for my beauty. I was so grateful that he chose me to belong to him. He shook and his cock pulsed inside me, squirting his essence deeply into my pussy. His hot juice made my pussy tremble, betraying my body, as it milked his cock for more of his cum, and elevating me into my own wild orgasm. In the middle of this, he yelled out that he was my Lord and Master. I just screamed “YES” over and over again as I came.
“Ellie!” Richard said. “What is going on with you?”
He was sitting on our bed, next to me. At some point in my sexy daydream, I’d moved to the bed. He was in his boxers, his empty glass of bourbon was on the bedside table. I could see my masturbatory dream had excited him, judging by the giant tent pole that kept his underwear up.
“Richard, I—” I stumbled. Was that just a dream? It seemed so real.
“I was j-just getting ready for you. Must’ve gotten too into it.”
“I’ll say,” he said, leaning closer to me. “Mind if I join you?”
“Yes,” I said, laying back on the bed, still wearing the fur coat. A thin layer of sweat covered my skin. How long had I been up here masturbating? I was confused. Wet, too apparently.
Richard smiled and began to lower his boxers.
The doorbell rang.
“What the hell?” Richard said, pulling his boxers up.
Our doorbell never rang. Even delivery people had to check in at the gate office, usually leaving the package with Dan, the gate supervisor.
Richard scrambled to find a robe, which he tied in a huff, before stomping downstairs. I was shivering, despite my warm fur coat, and followed him. What was going on? Richard stood in the foyer, checking a small video monitor next to the front door.
“Fuck!” he hissed.
“Richard, what is it?” I asked. “You’re scaring me!”
My heart was beating so rapidly, I could feel it in my neck. Intruders? An emergency? If it was business of some kind, I wished I had put on a robe, too. I was standing in the middle of our foyer wearing nothing but a crystal fox fur stroller and a satin black teddy with my own juices running down my leg.
“It’s fucking MidMan and that girl he was with,” Richard said, eyes wide with panic. “Ellie, lock yourself in the panic room. Don’t come out until I get you. Get something to use as a weapon on him if he gets in!”
Richard’s wealth and success had made him obsessed with security, thus the safe room. I used to make fun of him over it, but today, he was right.
“Go! Now!” he shouted.
I turned and headed to the stairs, but didn’t go up. I grabbed a weapon from the nearby table, a marble sculpture that we had purchased on a trip to Italy. It was heavy, but light enough so I could wield it like a club, smacking someone in the head with enough force to knock them out.
Which is what I did to Richard.
“Don’t call him MidMan!” I shouted as I swung. He crumpled to the ground. My teeth were gritted and I was breathing heavily. I was angry with him for not using his proper name – Master.
As Richard lay on the floor, I walked over his body and invited my Lord and Master in.
“Welcome to your new home Master. How may I serve you?” I asked as he and the beautiful blonde woman walked in. I enfolded him in an embrace, kissing him passionately. He was the object of my fantasies, the heat building in my loins.
I turned to her, still wearing the fur coat that complemented mine so well, like we were a matched set. I looked at her with love and desire, my sister in servitude to our Master. She kissed me passionately and I returned her affection with enthusiasm. It was even better than my fantasy upstairs.
“Why don’t you show us your bedroom, my dear?” he croaked to me in that wonderful, lilting voice. I took each of their hands in mine and led them upstairs, glad that I had already dressed and freshened up.
She was beautiful, I was beautiful, and I know Master liked watching us together. I was never so glad to be born beautiful in my entire life.