Lynette and Her Guest

May 20, 2024 // By:analsex // No Comment

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Big Dicks

Writer’s Note: Fiction – After Gregg’s marriage to Susan ends, he rents a room from Lynette and finds himself in a world of complication.

Unfortunately, my marriage to Susan did not work out well. Some months after our divorce, I was short of money, and so rented a room from a professor at the university named Lynette.

She was quiet, slender and obviously very intelligent. She taught a full load of courses, and was working on a book that would turn out to be her ticket to tenure. At first, our relationship was quite tense, and it was like she didn’t feel free to be herself around me. Obviously this was difficult for her, because if you can’t be yourself in your own home, where can you be? Also we would quarrel periodically over whether or not I was doing my fair share of the chores.

Finally to break the ice a little bit and hopefully put things on a friendlier footing, I suggested that at least one night each week, one of us would do all the cooking and we would have dinner together. She agreed.

The first night was my turn. I think I cooked spaghetti and pesto, which I didn’t really care for, but she liked it a lot. I did all the cooking myself and set the table. As dinner commenced I found myself spending most of the time waiting on her, pouring her wine, bringing her dessert, etc. I wouldn’t let her do a thing. We had a wonderful conversation. After dinner she told me she was impressed that I’d waited on her the whole meal, and that she enjoyed being waited on. I replied that I liked waiting on her, and would be happy to do it again.

Two nights later, she fixed the meal. She didn’t wait on me, but we had another excellent conversation. So we kept our new tradition going. She was much more relaxed, but it still felt like she wasn’t entirely comfortable. A couple of weeks later, we again quarreled about the chores. I was tired of the tension so I suggested to her that she just make a list of chores she wanted me to do and I would do them.

She told me she thought that was kind of weird but that she sort of liked the idea. “Why don’t we start Saturday,” she said. I agreed, and we hugged each other, both of us glad that the disagreement was behind us.

Saturday came around and she presented me with a long list. I told her the list looked like a lot more than half, and she just smiled. She asked me what we would do if the chores were not completed to her satisfaction. Sort of as a joke, I said, “Well I guess you could spank me.” She told me that sounded like a wonderful idea and told me to get to work.

About three weeks later she came home one Saturday evening and noticed some dust bunnies on the floor where I was supposed to have swept. Immediately she stalked over to the couch where I was reading a book and said, pointing at the dust bunnies, “This is totally unacceptable.”

I looked over, sort of went, “Ulp!” and apologized. She told me an apology was not nearly sufficient and reminded me of what we had agreed three weeks before. “You didn’t mean that did you?” I asked. “Of course I did,” she said.

She told me to get the broom, and re-do that part of the floor, and when I was done to present myself to her in her home office. I did as she asked, and a few minutes later was standing before her. “Take down your pants,” she said. I asked why. “You know perfectly well I can’t have much effect through those jeans,” she said. “And I don’t want to hurt my hand.

I pulled down my pants. “OK. Get over my knee,” she said. I thought for a moment, but had found I really didn’t mind the chores from her list, and furthermore did not want to spoil our new rapport. I did as she said. She proceeded to paddle me for what seemed like a half hour. It hurt a lot. After she was done she caressed my face for a second and told me, “You know we both need this, don’t you?” I nodded. Then she had me go to my room for the rest of the night.

A week or so later, she called me from the office on her night to cook dinner and asked if I could do it instead because she’d reached a difficult point in her research and did not want have to think about anything else if she could help it. I agreed and told her if she got home in time, I’d be happy to cook for her instead.

It did not happen that night, but soon I was cooking for her and waiting on her, first two nights a week, then more, and eventually every night she was home. This was in addition to my weekly chores. The spankings also became a weekly ritual.

One Friday evening I came home late from work, and found her dressed in a cute black sheath and fooling with her hair. She looked amazing and she had this wonderful conspiratorial smile on her face. I admit I had a hope the smile and the hot getup were for me, but she quickly put that notion to rest.

“I’m so glad we get along well now!” she exclaimed. “It’s put me at ease and I’ve got a real date tonight. I was beginning to feel like no one wanted me,” she said. I didn’t know what to say to this because I certainly had Starzbet felt very attracted to her. She gave me a quick hug, and was out the door. “Don’t you dare wait up,” she said.

I didn’t. About 10 the next morning, while I was reading the paper in the living room, she came in the front door, still wearing that nifty sheath, but very disheveled. She had a happy grin on her face but still looked just the tiniest bit sheepish. “You silly maniac,” I said.

“I couldn’t help myself,” she replied. “It had been so long, and he was just so cute!” she replied. “He’s a hot lover, too. It was great.” With that she bounced past me toward her bedroom and slept until late in the afternoon.

In the evening she had me cook her dinner, and after I’d cleaned up and put the dishes in the sink, she asked me to sit down and then looked at me with a strange look on her face. “You want me. Don’t you?” she said. I nodded. “That’s why it’s amazing you were so supportive when I came in that morning.

“I’ll be honest,” she continued. “I have no desire to settle down right now in a conventional relationship with a man, but I do love living with you the way we have it now.”

“I want you,” I said, “But I feel comfortable with you right now, and I wouldn’t change a thing. It did hurt me a little last night when you told me you were going out on a date with someone else, but I loved how happy it made you, and I sort of decided I was just going to do what I could to help you stay happy.”

“It’s perfect,” she said. “I can really be myself with you now. I can have you as my kept domestic man at home, and still live as a single liberated woman. Is this really OK with you?”

“Yes,” I said nodding. “For some reason it is. I just love helping you be happy and comfortable. I’ll do this for as long as you like.” She got out of her chair, pulled me to my feet and hugged me fiercely. “I’ll see to it you’re not sorry,” she said.

With that she took me by the hand and led me to her home office. She asked me to kneel in front of her chair, and then sat in front of me. She was wearing a big white shirt with a belt, and I could see the panties peeking out from under it. Her legs looked wonderful.

Quickly she pulled down her panties and pulled my face into her sex. I pleasured her for upwards of an hour, and when she was done, she pushed my head back, and asked me to pull up her panties. I did so without a whimper, but I hated to see her disappear back inside her clothes.

She went into her bedroom, shut the door, put on a nightdress, and called me in to rub her back. After she was satisfied she sent me to my room. That night I masturbated four times, and the next day I was in a bit of a cranky mood.

“You look out of sorts,” she said when she handed me the chore list for the week. “Yes. I guess I am,” I replied. “So what’s the matter,” she said.

For some reason I got brave. “I’ve got to be honest,” I said. “I think I’m hurt because you went to bed with a guy Friday night, and then last night you let me do oral sex on you, but there was nothing else. That bothers me.”

“Didn’t you masturbate?” she asked me. “Yes I did. Four times,” I answered. “Wow!” she said. “You really ought to be a happy camper right now, but you’re as down in the dumps as I’ve seen you since you started doing chores for me.

“Let me ask you a question,” she went on. “How many times did you masturbate in the last three weeks?”

“Not at all,” I replied. “But you were happy then,” she said. She thought for a moment.

“I think I know what the problem is,” she said. “I’ve read about this. A man is happier when he is not sexually spent, and it’s up to me to provide discipline so you don’t get sexually spent, and that way you’ll be able to be happy.

“Do something for me,” she went on. “Just go about your chores for the rest of the day, and go to bed like normal. And then wake up and go to work like always. But do something for me. Don’t touch yourself. Not at all, except to pee. Can you do that?”

“I think so,” I said, nodding slowly. “Good,” she said. “We’ll talk when you get home from work tomorrow.” She patted my cheek, looked me in the eye, and just smiled.

After a day of doing household chores for her, I was hard as a rock. She was in her study all day, and then went out with a girlfriend for dinner. I saw almost nothing of her, but my promise to her not to touch myself was keeping me excited. I wanted to so badly.

But a promise was a promise, so I didn’t. The next morning I again was amazingly hard, but I kept my word. I got up, ate a little breakfast, and went to work. Though I felt intense physical frustration, my mood actually improved. Around 5:30 I got home.

Between chores and preparing and cleaning up after dinner, there was no time to have a conversation, but she did not seem to mind. After I got done, she told me to go to my room, sit on the floor, and think about the weekend. She would call me when she was ready.

After Starzbet Giriş about an hour she called me into her office. There she sat in a chair with a short nightgown on. She looked wonderful and her eyes were twinkling. “I think you should take off your clothes,” she said. “You’ve got a beautiful body, and I’d like to see it.”

Without a word I stripped to the buff. I was red-faced, and it amused her to see me blush. “You’re shaved!” she exclaimed. “This is wonderful. You’ve done this before! Haven’t you?”

I nodded. “Tell me all about it,” she said. So I did. I told her the whole story of my relationship with Cynthia, and how that had ended; how I had messed it up, how I had married Susan, how that had petered out, and about how I found out Susan had been cheating on me since even before we got engaged.

“That’s a shame,” she said. “It’s terrible your wife would go behind your back like that. You’re a decent guy, and you deserve better. She gave me a warm hug with me there on my knees, nude, in front of her. She held the clinch for a couple of minutes.

When she let go of me, she said, “I want you to perform oral sex on me tonight. Right now.” With that she opened her legs. No panties at all tonight, and I did as I was asked. She was amazing. She bucked and screamed and seemed like she couldn’t get enough. It went on for more than an hour this time.

When she was done, she looked me closely in the eye, and said, “That was truly wonderful. I am one lucky woman.

“Now I want you to go to bed,” she continued. “But this time I want you to not masturbate at all. And I want you to call in sick at work and spend the day getting your chores done. Then we’ll talk. Don’t touch yourself at all now. OK?”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, ma’am.” She smiled as I gathered up my clothes and left the room.

The nest morning I was a jumble of intense emotions as I began my chores. While I was completing these tasks, she worked away on her book. Occasionally as I went past her office she would give me a glance or a knowing smile. But we didn’t speak.

About mid-afternoon I was done. Immediately I went to my room, took off my clothes, walked to her office and presented myself on my knees at her feet. When she turned to face me, I bent down and kissed each foot gently. In spite of my quiet demeanor I wanted her more than ever.

She sat there smiling for a moment and looking me over. “You are a delicious man,” she said. “Thank you, ma’am,” I replied. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“I’m frustrated. I’m mad with desire. I want to grab you so badly it hurts.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “That’s not what I meant. Are you happy right now? Are you at peace with our relationship?”

“It’s crazy but yes I am happy. And even though I feel totally frustrated in my body, when I’m in your presence and when I’m doing things for you and even when you’re out taking your pleasure with some other guy, I feel at peace at the same time I feel frustrated and jealous.”

She got a little more serious now. “You’ll have to do something about that jealousy,” she said. “I care for you more than any man I’ve ever had, but I need my freedom too much to do this any other way with you. And I still have the same physical needs as any other woman, and that means I have to see other men to get what I need.

“If you can’t accept this, I’m going to have to ask you to move out, and we won’t be able to see each other again. I would hate that.” I could feel how much she cared, and how wonderful she was, and the deep spiritual feeling that was growing in me out of my intense desire for her. “I’ll do this for you,” I said quietly. “I’ll do it your way.”

She hugged me close and kissed me gently on the lips. “You’re making the right decision, you know,” she said. “Even though it’s going to be hard for you sometimes, I’ll see you won’t regret this.”

At that she leaned back in her chair and told me she was going to impose some new rules. She ordered me to begin keeping a journal of all my emotional, erotic and desirous thoughts. She told me she wanted to read this two to three times a week. She said that way she could learn of any of my thoughts that were incompatible with our relationship, and work on weeding those out of me. “Also, I expect it’s going to be pretty hot,” she said with that guilty smile of hers. “I give you permission to be graphic.”

She told me I could no longer masturbate without permission, and I could not ask more than twice a month. She told me she was at her most excited after coming home from being with a man or when she was on her period, and she was going to insist I take care of her pleasure during those times, in addition to any other time she was to ask.

In addition she said she occasionally would entertain her men friends at home, and I would be absent, the soul of discretion, or the perfect servant, as each occasion and her mood dictated. I was to start serving her breakfast Starzbet Güncel Giriş in bed every morning, and if from time to time I had to do that for both her and her lover, I was to do it without complaint.

She said she liked the way I had presented myself naked at her feet, and that she wanted me to do this every time I handed over my journal for her to read, and every time I presented myself for punishment.

I told her I would do all this, and another phase of our relationship began that day. I became a perfect servant. It was difficult learning to please her orally after she had just had a man, or while her menstrual blood was flowing, but she enjoyed it so much I was thrilled she had asked me to do it.

For me it also hurt each time she went on a date, and even more the few times she brought a man home. I had to be perfectly courteous on these occasions, and keep a smile on my face, whether or not I was actually performing service at the time. The times I had to serve breakfast in bed to her and the guy she’d just had were the worst.

But I’d gotten to know her better and I could see she needed this, and I could see how happy it made her when I did what she asked. So I just sucked it up the first few times, and began empathizing with her happiness and the pleasure she took in these trysts. I began to like it because I could see it was working for her.

The best part was the journal. I did exactly as she asked and recorded each and every one of my amorous thoughts in graphic detail. She truly did enjoy reading it. And when my fantasies were such she did not think proper she devised a system of punishment to encourage me to become entirely centered on her. I felt even more naked in front of her than ever before when she was reading the journal. It was scary, but it was hot.

She would ask me questions about my fantasies and sometimes ask me to go into even greater detail. Sometimes she would touch herself in front of me, or ask me to read the journal to her so she could use both hands. On journal nights I was never allowed to masturbate, and so the only pleasure I got was empathizing with her pleasure and fantasizing about her.

After she was done, if she did not approve of the fantasy, she would lecture me on the need to purify my thoughts of anything female except the Great Goddess and her. Sometimes she would spank me and sometimes not.

She then would lead me into a walk-in closet in her bedroom and leave me to meditate on her, to refocus my fantasies upon her, and to realize that submissive fantasies were preferable. I could be in the closet for anywhere from a half hour to the entire night. She would tie my hands behind me so I was unable to touch myself.

She would sometimes masturbate loudly when I was in the closet. Twice she went out after I was placed in confinement and brought home a lover. My feelings, as I heard her pleasure and his grunts drove me to distraction and into even deeper obedience. All I knew was the relationship seemed to be making us both very happy.

After one journal session, she looked at me closely and asked, “Why do you think you’re nude when we do this?” I thought for a second and said, “Because it’s sexy?”

“For you or for me?” she asked. “Well of course for you, but for me, too. It’s very hot,” I said.

“I can see that,” she said smiling and surveying my erection. “But that’s not the whole reason. Why else?”

“Because you enjoy looking at my body?”

“That I do,” she said. “But again that’s not the real reason. Why do you think I don’t take clothes off when we do this?”

Now I was confused. “I don’t know,” I said. “Because you don’t want to?”

“Hmm!” she said. “If I wait for you to figure this out, I think we’ll be here all night.

“Let me just tell you. You are nude because you are supposed to be open to me and to whatever I might want to do with you. You are laid bare and revealed to me, with no holding back. That’s what the journal is about, too. You are giving everything to me.

“I remain clothed to remind us both that even though I care for you and love you deeply I am not yours in the same way. Also it shows, just like your inability to grasp what I was talking about a moment ago, that no matter how hard a man tries he is not capable of knowing the deepest truths of a woman. My clothes show that no matter how hard you try, there always will be a great deal about me that you cannot hope to understand.

“And because you cannot understand, you cannot possess. Because I do understand you, and your gift of openness and submission, I have the right to possess you. That’s also why it is necessary for you to be exclusive to me, because you cannot understand anything at all without focusing all your emotional attention and your greatest efforts on me, while I can take your entire self into my heart and still have room for more.”

I felt a sense of wonder as I listened to this, and everything she said felt so right. As soon as I finished, I burst into tears as I knelt humbly and covered her feet with kisses. “Thank you for allowing me to be so close to you,” I said. “It’s so wonderful to know where I belong with you, and to feel so good about it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

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