[M4F] Husband shares subby wife with his friends

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We’re curled up in bed, your leg draped over my hip, your head on my chest, your soft breathing gently moving through my coarse hairs like a dull, warm breeze. I always enjoy the weight of you, your breasts pressed against softly into my side, one hand curled around my neck, the scent of your shampoo overpowering the candle on the bedside table. One of my large hands is resting on the curve of your ass, and with the other I’m working my fingers into your scalp, occasionally pausing to let your hair move through my fingers with a taut tug. I feel the vibrations of your satisfied groan on my skin. These same fingers, not even fifteen minutes ago, were wrapped around your slender throat, while I growled for my good girl to cum for me… Now gently working the exact way that I know you like, feeling your body go loose and heavy, and drift off into sleep. 

I kiss the very top of your head, and feel your leg tighten around my waist, my semi-hard cock lazily pressing against your thigh.

“I had an idea,” I say softly. “For Saturday.” 

Our bedroom dynamic had always bent dominant and submissive. We had barely begun dating when you first mewled “Daddy” to me, causing my hips to increase their rhythmic pounding, fully falling into an animalistic state. I’d lost my composure so fully, that we worried for a few weeks that I’d gotten you pregnant. We dodged that bullet, and it didn’t stop you from trying to get me into that state again. (You’d succeed more than once, you fucking brat.) 

A year ago, you told me that you didn’t want your submission to be a game anymore. You didn’t want it to just be something we played with on the weekend after a bottle of wine or two. With wide vulnerability in your eyes, you confessed that you wanted to be mine. Actually mine. We’d keep up appearances for the neighborhood, for work, for friends and family… But when the door of our humble suburban house closed, we’d shed the false pretenses and you’d fully exist to be a good girl for Daddy. 

“You’ll tell me if it’s ever too much?” I’d said, to which you nodded and pressed your lips hungrily against mine. 

You never said it was too much. Not when I told you to spend the day in my favorite little panties, ready for whenever I wanted to bend you over. Not when I told you exactly how I wanted my meal cooked in the evening. Not when I told you to wear a collar and act like an eager little puppy for me. Not when you were out for a girl’s night, and I texted you that you have five minutes to find a private space and send me a selfie of your tits. Not even when I made you watch Furious 7 with me and listen to me explain all of the behind the scenes drama between Vin Diesel and The Rock. 

You were the perfect good girl for me, and in return I loved and protected you– made you feel safe, or like a little slut, depending on the vibe. 

“You know how the guys are coming over on Saturday for the game?” I continued, my fingers still working slowly into your scalp as I feel you struggle to stay awake. “I want you to wear something slutty. And for one night, I want to let them own you like I own you.” 

My hand on your ass slowly, intentionally shifts, moving between your legs. My fingers press against your perfect little hole, teasing your lips, still wet for me. 

“You’re going to do whatever they want. All night. They want a beer? You’ll get it. They want their cocks sucked? You drop to your knees. I want to show them what a good fucking girl you are for me.” 

I lift your chin with my finger, my lips curling into a smile as you say what you always say when I give you a command. My lips meet yours, and I feel your hips eagerly begin to shift along the axis of my waist. In a moment, my cock is stretching your folds open for the third time tonight. 

–

Hey there. Pretty simple scenario here. You should send me a message if you’re into it. This is a new account for me, but I’ve been on and off DPP since the very beginning. 

I’m looking for a writing partner who, you know, is actually here to write some fun smut and build some chemistry. You’re going to message me your name, some evidence that you’re a decent writer and fun person (previous posts of yours, or just an indication that you have some ideas regarding the prompt). You’re also going to tell me about your favorite bra, so that I know you’ve read this. 

You’re not going to ask me to move to another platform like Discord. I’m a normal functioning member of society and don’t have the time or headspace to manage multiple horny accounts/apps.

I’m being playfully bossy with my tone here. If you want to come in to our conversation already subby, sure. Great. Happy to take charge. But we can also just talk like normal people, and save that dynamic for the characters. No preference on my end. 

If you’re a dude writing as a woman, no judgement at all, but I’m not into it. My brain is very progressive, but my cock isn’t. If I get the sense from your writing or your post history that I’m helpin’ you jerk it, I’m going to soft bail. Sorry, bud! 

Alright. Good job reading this, baby girl. You’re so smart. Now send me a message.