I took her collar from her and she knelt, unbidden, so that I could fit it to her.
The black leather looked incongruous against the white silk of her dress.
"No" I said, "not today. That dress is enough of a sign of submission. And you deserve to be taken exactly as you would have been, should have been, the day you put it on."
"If you're sure Master?"
"I am. I want you exactly as you were on your wedding day, another man's bride, to steal what he never knew he had"
She looked up at me, her eyes imploring me to have her. Twenty years of hurt on her face "All I want is for someone to finally take me in this dress and treat me like I'm theirs to do with as they please"
I told her to stand and then I stepped back to take a proper look at her.
The dress was mercifully tasteful considering it was from the late 90s. A ballgown in white silk, with a portrait neck and short sleeves. The bodice and sleeves were embroidered and jewelled. The same embroidery decorated the bottom edge of the otherwise plain, full length skirt. Only slightly more voluminous than that of a normal ballgown, the skirt was neither excessive nor unwieldy.
In her hair, which she had put up, in a rough approximation of the style she wore on the actual day, she wore a sheer lace hair piece , fastened with a silver filigree comb to the back of her head and trailing down her otherwise bare back to the top of her skirt.
She looked beautiful. Her husband, who now totally neglected her sexually, had obviously been a fool back then too.
I was dying to see what underwear she had on underneath. So far all I knew was she was wearing white stockings and suspenders.
"Shall we go upstairs?" I asked her.
"No" she replied "I want you to have me here, so that whenever I am in this room with him, or with his stupid family, I will remember what you did to me here, whilst they sit oblivious to it."
Then she turned and looked towards the fireplace. On the hearth was a large picture frame with a photograph of the two of them on their wedding day.
"I look at that picture and I see the smile on my face. I had every little girl's dream day. But the woman in that picture had no idea of the disappointment that lay ahead of her that night, or in the years since."
She continued "I look at it all the time. It's a constant reminder of how he made me feel, how he makes me feel. So I want you to fuck me, right in front of it. So that from now on, when I look at it, I will think of today and of you, and how you make me feel instead"
And before I could do anything else, before I could plan what I was going to do to her or how I was going to undress her, she reached up under her skirt and tugged at her knickers, causing them to drop down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and took a few steps towards the fireplace and the hated picture.
Then she gathered her skirt up around her waist and lowered herself onto her knees again and then onto all fours, the skirt of her wedding dress pulled up over her now bare bum, the vertical slit of her pussy visible, framed completely in white, above and at the sides by her suspender belt and straps, and underlined by her stocking tops.
I took my wallet out of my back pocket and removed one of the condoms I had put there barely thirty minutes earlier.
I dropped my jeans and trunks and rolled the condom down my erect shaft.
I briefly contemplated licking her, but realised that she didn't want niceties, she wanted to be fucked. A quick probe with a finger confirmed that she was ready.
"I've been wet at the thought of this all morning Master" she said.
I knelt behind her and placed the head of my cock against her slit. I pushed it in slightly, just enough to prise her lips apart, then ran my cock up, then down the bottom half of her slit, then, on a down stroke, I continued on, underneath her, so the length of my shaft was between her lips, and the head was rubbing her clit.
I continued with this soft humping for a minute or so, enjoying the sounds she made as my cock came into contact with her clitoris. Then as I pulled back I ran my cock all the way back up her slit, and finding her vagina, slowly pushed myself into her.
She let out a contented sigh as she took my whole length first time. It was the sigh of a woman finally getting what she wanted, not after a few minutes of teasing, but after twenty years of frustration.
The thought was hugely erotic for me. I knew this woman didn't want tender loving anyway, but now, especially, I knew she wanted to be taken, to be owned, to be used. I knew she wanted to serve a man and give herself to him for his pleasure.
I began to increase the force and the pace of my thrusts, fucking her harder and harder. Her barely-used married pussy, not wanted by her husband, felt so good, tight around around my cock. After a few minutes she was repeatedly moaning "Oh yeah, oh yeah" and hearing this was causing those first tell-tale tingles in my cock.
I didn't want to cum yet. I only had an hour to spend with her and I wanted to make the most of it for her. So I slowed and withdrew from her. Then, grabbing her left shoulder, I told her to come back. She rose back into a kneeling position and I placed my hands inside the neckline of her dress and slipped it off her shoulders and down over her breasts, revealing a white strapless bra.
I left the dress loose around her waist, the short sleeves gathered at her elbows. Then I undid her bra and pulled it away from her breasts. I took her breasts in my hands and squeezed them hard, kneading them like dough.
I loved the feel of them and the way she knelt there with her head back against me, enjoying her body being wanted. I ran my thumbs back and forth over her hardening nipples before pinching them between finger and thumb and pulling them out, just a little bit further than was comfortable and holding them there, while she gasped, her breath catching in her throat.
Letting her nipples go, I reached behind me and picked up her discarded panties off the floor. I rolled them up tightly and moved my right hand up to her throat. Taking it in a butterfly grip, I ordered her to open her mouth and pushed the panties into it.
Next, I removed the comb from her hair and pulled the veil away from it. I pulled her arms behind her back and tied her wrists together using the veil. And then I pushed her towards the floor again. This time she had to put her face down on the carpet.
I looked at her beautiful bare arse and rubbed her right buttock approvingly. Her husband was away, that meant I could mark her, without leaving her having to face awkward questions should he bother to look at his wife's bum.
The first couple of smacks were just to warm her up a little, but the next few were harder. The outline of my hand glowed, red, on her right cheek and I switched to the left one, repeating the process, all the while telling her, in between strokes, what a good girl she was and how she had earned this.
When I was satisfied that her cheeks were both going to be marked for at least the rest of the day, I stopped.
She was breathing in hard through her nose now, short rapid breaths, and emitting a low moan into her improvised gag.
Now I was satisfied that she was getting what she had yearned so long for.
I was nearly done. I slipped a couple of fingers into her pussy and proceeded to flick them rapidly from side to side. I had discovered on our first meet that this was a surefire way to make her cum, provided she was sufficiently aroused.
She was. She came noisily, shouting against her gag after about five minutes of manipulation.
I pulled my fingers out of her pussy, coated with her juice. I smeared it over her anus and then took a little more from her pussy on one finger and slipped it into her bum. I was largely doing that for my benefit, to make it more comfortable for me to enter her. I knew that she wasn't that bothered and liked it when anal was painful.
I reached my right hand out and grabbed the knot in her hair where the comb had been. I pulled her head back up and pointed her towards the picture on the hearth.
"Keep looking at it while I fuck your arse" I told her.
"Yes please Master. Thank you" she replied
With my left hand I placed my cock against her bumhole and pushed. Once it opened to admit the head, the rest of my cock slid in with just the right amount of resistance to be satisfying.
She grunted into the gag and continued to do so as I fucked her arse hard. I loved the noises each thrust brought, loved knowing how she felt them. I could feel myself starting to cum again. Once more I stopped. Once more I pulled her back up into a kneeling position. But this time I stood up, cock in hand and went round to stand in front of her.
I removed the panties from her mouth and placed my cock to her lips instead. She didn't need telling. She greedily opened her mouth and waited for my spunk whilst I wanked off into her mouth. I came quickly, giving her my load in five or six squirts.
She looked up at me, her mascara wet and smudged, cum dribbling down her chin, and said "Thank you Master"
I fed the cum from her chin into her mouth and gave her my cock to clean as a reward for doing so well.
Then I pulled my trunks and jeans up and finally untied her hands.
She remained kneeling, looking at the picture.
"I will have much happier thoughts now when I look at that" she said.
I told her that I had run out of time. She still wasn't getting up, and I decided that she just wanted to be left alone for a bit.
I bent down and kissed her. I reminded her that she had to pick her kids up at three o'clock and that a dishevelled wedding dress probably wasn't appropriate attire.
She laughed at that and said thank you again and I left her, until next time.
I returned home and had a quick shower before doing a few hours more work.
As I watched my tea revolving in the microwave I thought about Beth and the husband who provided lots of material things, but not what she really craved, and thought about my own wife and the ironic contrast between the two, with her husband, me, trying to provide her with everything she could possibly want in that department, but her possibly not wanting it.
I looked at the clock. Six o'clock. By now she would be in deep conversation with Karen. Or maybe she was in bed with her.
I had no idea what time to expect her home. All I knew was the later she stayed with Karen, the better I thought it was probably going. So I didn't care if she came home really late, so long as she did so with a smile on her face...
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