Untamed Passion

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Edie Foster loved her husband. He was solid, dependable, handsome as hell with his muscular good looks and his lean, hard body…but he was so easygoing and even-tempered that sometimes he was, well, just too good for her. She loved the feel of his smooth skin against hers, the feel of his perfect lips as he kissed her lips and breasts. The feel of his long thick cock never failed to make her cum. As soon as she told him to stop doing

whatever he was doing and fuck her, he always complied immediately. And therein lay the problem.

When she regarded her private feelings about her relationship, she felt like a true fool. When she confided in Celeste, her very closest friend in all the world, she had been chided and laughed at. “What are you, Edie? Are you nuts? You have the most perfect and beautiful man in the world, a guy who will do anything to make you happy, and you’re unhappy with him?” There was no help from her best friend. Or her mother.

After years of hiding her admittedly minor problem with her husband, Edie decided to accept the fact that she was a fortunate woman and let it go at that. She could indulge her fantasies through books and movies and the internet, masturbating in private when Dylan was not at home. She didn’t notice, but Dylan did, that her performance and enjoyment in their marriage bed, seemed to fall off a bit and their sex became lackluster. He tried

everything he knew to satisfy her, but nothing seemed to get her fired up. The sex was still good, but it was flat and to Dylan, unsatisfying.

As with most people whose problems are not crises or decisions concerning life or death, this minor problem began to loom large in Dylan’s mind.

Soon he was stopping off for a single beer at a local watering hole every night. It was at the watering hole that Celeste found him one evening, staring morosely at his beer. She hugged him, as she always did the husband of her best friend, and asked him what was wrong. His noncommittal answer told her that there was something seriously bothering him, and she immediately sat down and asked him to order her a drink. It took some probing, and the consumption of two Bushmill’s martinis (a peculiarity of his that she had learned over the years) before she pried the answer out of him. He had no more than uttered the first words of his problem before she recognized the problem and started formulating a solution. She let him keep talking until he was finished because she had worked so hard to get him to open up. When he was through, she reached

into her purse and pulled out a small pocket-sized notebook that she kept for making notes or lists. She scribbled out the name of a popular book and its author and pushed it toward him.

“Dylan, go and buy this book tomorrow and read it. Do not take it home and do not let Edie see it. This is very important honey, I mean it. If you read this book you will understand some things about Edie that you’ve never known. I won’t violate your confidence by blabbing to you, but take my word for it, this book will solve your problems!” Dylan stared at her for a long moment, and then he got up and made his way home. He was skeptical that any book would contain an answer to his real problems, but he was getting desperate.

He bought the book the next morning, and then locked himself in his office and began to read. After the first hour, he slammed the book down in a drawer and closed it. “Bullshit!” He muttered. At lunch, he called Celeste. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he said.

“Dylan,” Celeste said, “You’ve known me for years and you know that I love Edie like a sister. Would I do anything to hurt her?” The silence on the other end of the line gave her the answer she needed. “Read the book

Dylan.” She hung up.

He was not a fast reader, and it took him two full days at work to finish. He was still skeptical about this stuff working on Edie. When he finished the book he did some research on his own on the internet, and he was much relieved that some of the stereotypical behavior of doms was not a true picture. He didn’t have to be an asshole at all. He could still treasure and

spoil his wife, he simply had to deny her some of the things she asked for to please her. He had a lot to learn about teasing and the nature of women, but who didn’t? It was another week and a half before he tried any of what he had learned.

On the following Friday night, he got home and found Edie wearing a little black dress, urging him to shower and change so that they could go out for dinner. “No,” he said calmly, sitting down on his recliner and loosening his tie. Edie froze, certain she had not just heard stolid, reliable Dylan tell her “No!”

She stared at him, her hands on her hips. “Turn around,” Dylan spoke evenly and quietly, though there was no mistaking the command in his

voice. Feeling a flutter deep in her belly, Edie did as she was told. “Take the dress off,” he ordered. She started to speak, but Dylan got an odd look in his eyes and she closed her mouth quickly, fumbling at the buttons of her little black dress. She started to go to their room to hang it up, but he stopped her with a gesture. “Put it on the sofa,” he said in the same quiet voice. There was steel in Dylan’s voice that had never been there before, and she wasn’t at all sure where it had come from, and it frightened her a little. But it excited her more.

She stood in front of him with her hands clasped behind her back like a little girl as he stared at her as if she were a possession…a treasured possession to be sure, but there was ownership in his eyes that was irresistible. “The bra,” he said and gestured with a finger. He wanted to smile as he watched her do that double-jointed female thing as she reached behind her back and unfastened the bra. When it came off she tossed it on the sofa on top of her dress and stood proudly in front of him, her small firm breasts thrust forward for him to admire. There was no change in expression on his face as he leaned forward and caressed one of them. His thumb and forefinger stopped on her nipple, causing it to swell. Gazing into her smoky gray eyes, he squeezed. It got a response from her, but not the one he wanted. She had always begged him to squeeze her nipples harder, but he had been leery of hurting her. This time he increased the pressure significantly, and a gasp escaped her lips as she felt more of what she truly desired. He noticed her gasp and increased the pressure again. He watched for signs of pain but he saw only a smoldering heat building. He squeezed harder until tears came to her eyes, but the look in them was adoring.

“The panties,” he said, leaning back in his chair. She hurried to obey this order, the new Dylan filling her with need, and the desire to have him inside her. Standing before him, he could see the full naked length of her. The auburn hair was too dark it sometimes seem a dark brown, the high cheekbones, and the wide generous mouth adorned with lush, kissable lips. He observed her sleek sculptured neck and shoulders, her hard flat belly, and the soft

swell of her hips down to her elegant legs and dainty feet. His gaze moved back up to her pubic mound, that lush growth of curly dark auburn hair.

“Go to the bathroom and shave that off,” he commanded. Edie ran to the bathroom to do as he told her. Her pussy was soaked.