Captainstrangecollector - Strange Collections

Busy, but making progress

Work is really starting to get moving now. I’ve only been there a short time, but is already feel like I’m doing some really good work, even though sometimes I feel like I’m drowning and putting in long hours just to keep up. I’m sure that after I get settled in and really get into a groove, I will be able to manage without having to work 10 hour days. But… I’m not complaining. It’s busy, but good busy.

As far as other things go…

So, in addition to being pretty busy, I am meeting a lot of new people. One of which is a guy that is crazy hot. Like, seriously shouldn’t even be legal hot. He is older than me, and on one of the other teams of people on the same project as I am. His name is Dan, and he is super smart and I get to work with him a lot, and I would be totally, 100% ok with getting him into bed. Only one small catch… He is married and has a kid. Damn! I don’t think I want to try to get involved there yet. Which is unfortunate… Mostly just for me. I told my bf about him too, and he was all for it, but I don’t really want to risk being a homewrecker, so I think that he might just be eye candy for me for the foreseeable future. Sigh.

Anywho… My bf was hinting ever since the last time that Brandon and I hooked up that he wanted me to do it again, but I hadn’t really been able to do anything for a while. Mostly because I wasn’t sure I liked the way I felt about myself after the last meeting, but also because after working 50+ hours a week I was just too burnt out to try to arrange anything. But his constant hints for a week or so gave me enough time to come to terms with those feelings, and last Wednesday evening, he actually convinced me to text Brandon again.

So, the plan was for me to text Brandon and invite him over again on Thursday night, just like last time, but as it turns out, I never got the opportunity to do that. While I was working that day, I actually looked at my phone over lunch, and Brandon had texted me… Fortuitous, huh? He just said “hey, you should come over tonight”. I called my bf right away to tell him that Brandon had actually invited me over, and he was ok with me going, so long as I came back to his place when I was done.

So, I texted Brandon back and lied. I told him that I couldn’t, because I was working, and then going to my bf’s house when I got off for dinner. Well, for whatever reason, that made him try even harder. It was perfect. Boys are so easy to manipulate sometimes… He answered back and told me I should make up an excuse and come by his house before I went to my boyfriend’s place when I got off.

Wait, he gets to think he’s making me stray again, my bf knows and is cool with it, and I get two boys in one night? Well gosh, what a terrible deal.

So, I called my bf and told him that I was headed to Brandon’s place when I got off, and I promised to come over to his place when I was done. He was totally excited I was willing to do this again after the first time. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Brandon, and told him I would stop by, but that I had to hurry, because I had told my bf that I had to work late again and that we would have to push dinner back a little. That was all a total lie, of course, because we actually hadn’t made any plans at all, and my bf knew everything that was happening.

When I got to Brandon’s house there was nobody else there. No roommates, just me and him. I felt hot. I really did. It was different than the first time I “cheated” because this time I felt like I was more in control. That is weird to say, but that was how I felt. He let me in, and almost immediately started his machismo thing again. He said “I knew you would come over again” and I answered back “you texted me first, remember?” It was playful flirting… And then he tried the same trick as he did the first time, and said “so, you want to give me head at the kitchen table this time?” And I got this crazy power rush, and something came over me, and I completely threw the whole misogynist thing right back in his face and said “oh no, you texted me first this time. That means you start. Here. And hurry up because I don’t have much time”, and I just sat down, right there on his living room couch and just stared at him.

I have never felt the way I did that night, at that exact moment. It was amazing, I felt both this huge sexy - almost dirty - feeling, and at the same time this immense power thrill. I don’t know what gave me to confidence to snap back at him like that, but I absolutely loved it!

He didn’t need to be told twice. He had my business skirt hiked up around my hips about 30 seconds later, and I had Brandon on his knees, with HIS head between MY legs to start this whole encounter this time.

I’ve never had public sex before. I never thought it was a smart idea. But that evening, Brandon and I had sex right there on his living room couch. I had no idea where his roommates were. They might have been across the country, they could have walked right in the front door and seen us. Believe me, the thought crossed my mind more than a few times. I didn’t even try to stop it, or suggest that we move to his bedroom. The unknown - the risk - made it hotter for me. I actually wondered what one of his roommates might think if they had walked in on us. Maybe I was “Brandon’s new girlfriend”. Maybe I was “some cheap slut Brandon brought home”. I didn’t really care. Whatever anybody wanted to think of me was fine with me. It was liberating. Now, nobody ever did walk in, but by the time our hurried, quick and dirty hooking up was done 30 min or so later, I found out that something I never really considered before could be a turn on for me.

My hair was a mess, and Brandon was all smiles, and I quickly got dressed again and told him that my bf was probably waiting on me for dinner, and I had to go. What a bad girlfriend I was… I left his house, and drove straight to my bf’s house, and as soon as I got inside, my bf was all over me. He damn near attacked me. He didn’t have dinner waiting or anything, just let me in, and took me right to his room, and we went at it again. Sex, twice, with two different guys in less than an hour apart. He was so hungry. The first time I “cheated” he gave me food and flowers. Not this time. He said he felt like he was reclaiming me. He wanted me to tell him every little detail about what happened, so I did.

I told him that while we were fucking on the couch I had wondered about his roommates walking in on us. I told him I thought that idea was hot. I told him I didn’t care what they would have thought about me… the cheap little whore that Brandon brought home. That drove him crazy. He loved that. His little high school sweetheart being so dirty. I pushed him further. I told him that I wanted to sleep around on him more, with lots of different guys. That finished him off. I was so sore by the end of the night, but it was so worth it.

When we finished, I just laid there with him. Pillow talk. I asked him if he liked what I did, and he said that he did, very much. I decided that I would play another card that I had been thinking of while he was laying there with his arms around me. The idea for this actually came from an interaction a few weeks ago with one of my followers, and I thought that was as good a time as any to bring it up…

I asked him if he had bought me a birthday present yet. (My birthday is August 18th by the way- I’ll be 23, just in case you guys care.) He said no, that he hadn’t yet, and asked me what I wanted. I told him that I wanted him to buy me three things: first, a new book that I’ve been wanting to read, second, a nice birthday dinner out with him, and lastly, I wanted him to buy me the sexiest lingerie he could possibly think of… So I could model it… for Brandon only.

Needless to say, I was a little late to work the next morning.

…which means…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.

A hall pass

I can’t remember now when I admitted to my then-girlfriend that I was interested in her cuckolding me.  The desire preceded the relationship, and it has stayed with me in the years since that relationship ended.

She knew, though, before she left for a college reunion the last fall we were together.  As I remember it now, I feel like she must have noticed a spark when she mentioned looking forward to seeing all of her old friends.  The college was a plane trip away from where we lived, and this reunion was her five-year, so most of her friends were still unattached and living interesting lives in the big city she had left.  She missed them; she would find a way to go up for the weekend and see everyone she could, staying in her friend’s empty apartment.

One of those friends, Luke (for our story, but his real name will never leave my mind), had not attended the school, but came to know that my girlfriend would be traveling to the city for the weekend.  I’m sure I had heard about Luke beforehand, but always in the context of some other guy friends of hers.  Maybe they were buddies from her post-college job or the bar they all went to.

One night, a couple of weeks before the trip, my girlfriend called over from the other room and told me to “make an angry face” while she pointed her phone in my direction.  The picture was for Luke, she said, who had teasingly suggested she bring along some lingerie for the reunion weekend.  As I recall, I didn’t have the faintest idea that their text conversation might have taken that turn, and I’m sure the blood ran from my face and just as sure where it went.

My girlfriend thought it was funny, and I convinced myself that it was just an improbable joke, almost certainly not having to do with my fantasy.  But I didn’t want to let the opportunity pass to explore it either.

That night I asked her in bed whether she might break away from the college group and get to see Luke and her buddies.  She touched me while she asked if that was something I wanted.  I touched her as I asked her to describe Luke to me.  He is extremely well-built, funny, just never single at the right time, one of the ones who got away.

Before I came, I was desperate to outline the breadth of my fantasy again, reminding her that she had every right to see whomever—and do whatever—she liked, at home or while on a trip, far away from everyone we knew.

---

She left for the reunion.  Luke had been called away on business for the weekend she was going, so our bedroom talk had softened.  The realization, though, that she would consider an affair, engaging me in the fantasy with a particular name—a particular person—had electrified our relationship and dominated my thoughts.

She went to the cocktail parties and the football game, sending back social media pictures of her group of friends in their team’s colors at each of the different events.  Sunday morning, she went out with her girlfriends to brunch.  Between pitchers of mimosas, she called me and put me on the phone with her old friends, who interviewed me.  Even after a couple of years of dating, I had never met them, so I got questions about my intentions with my girlfriend and plans for when we might fly to see this friend or that friend.

Eventually my girlfriend took the phone back and walked away from their table.  She asked me almost immediately, “Were you serious about the hall pass?  Luke is coming back a day early.”

I was stunned.  I managed to say yes and offer her encouragement without, I think, making myself sound desperate that she go through with it.  I also don’t remember ever using the phrase “hall pass.”  She had spent time with the thought, rationalizing it.

She called later that afternoon to say that she had made plans to see Luke and her other buddies, and that she had made Luke aware of the fact that she was staying at her friend’s empty apartment, all alone.

The next time I heard from her was the following morning.  She texted to let me know she made it to the airport, that she had had fun the night before and that she had a story for me when she got home.

---

I still don’t know if Luke was aware of my fantasy or not.  My girlfriend always found ways of skirting the point, keeping private some element of her interactions with him.

I do know that by the time he arrived at the apartment, after he had been out with her and their buddies to the bar, meeting her at the door where she greeted him in a sweatshirt and sheer panties, he had explained that he had a girlfriend.  As they kissed and she began to remove his clothes, pulling him to the couch, he explained that he would have to draw a line—somewhere—short of sex.

When my girlfriend told me my story, that Monday night, I am convinced that she told it in episodes.  Each one slightly more damning than the previous, in case I lost my permissive resolve.  I held up, so the details continued to grow more vivid.

She always denied having sex with him, but what began as making out on the couch eventually moved to the bedroom.  First with clothes, and then without them.  She touched me as she asked, “Are you happy that I touched him like this?  He was very happy.”  My girlfriend described Luke’s toned body, naked beside her, and the sweetness of his kisses.

They played with each other all night, not falling asleep until five in the morning.  Before he went to work, they shared a lingering kiss at the door.  He left his wallet and had to come back a half hour later.  She told me, “the last kiss was my favorite part of the whole trip.”

---

She seemed to feel different to my touch that night, although I’m sure in my mind I wanted her to.  I am guilty of looking at her email once to search for Luke’s name, finding a conversation they had about a “shower party” (her quotes) a few days after she came home.  She did love to make love in the shower.

My girlfriend would ask me occasionally what I wanted to do about the experience.  I imagined with her, for her, a weekend where my apartment would be empty so that Luke might come to our town, perhaps on business.  I could be gone whenever she liked, I said.

She wondered if I might want to participate, suspecting that I would want to enjoy Luke alongside her.  She never articulated that specifically, but I could tell she always wondered what else could possibly motivate such a fantasy.

Really, though, her night with Luke helped me to see it more clearly than ever.  I wanted only for her to feel in control, untethered from me and not especially concerned either.  I wanted her to have sex or not have it, with a man or with a woman, to tell her friends or Luke or not to tell them.  It didn’t matter to me what came of her decisions, only that she was making them.

I was happy to wait at home to find out my fate; to learn from the person in control just what had happened to her and to us and to me.  I begged to know.

It’s nothing she asked for.

No matter how much she’s enjoying it now.

It’s important to me that you’re happy, I tell her, but I can tell she hasn’t yet understood.

The best parts of being single, combined with the best parts of having someone you love in your life.

Everything – anything you want.

I see in her eyes a glimmer of understanding.

So this isn’t about you getting something more, she says. I shake my head.

You’ll all I could ever hope for, I say.

So I could experiment and try things out, she says.

And I’d be happy for you, I say.

And if I wanted to dress up and go out on a date and wind up wherever the evening took me, she says.

I’d be here at home, waiting for you, wvenever you found your way back, I say.

She’s quiet now, thoughtful, her eyes flashing brightly as she regards my face.

After a long pause, she smiles.

How did I get so lucky? she asks.

You deserve it, I say.

…she means it…not that i would know…{blushing}…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.