Role Playing

Friday.

It was a long day. I had to go to a meeting two hours away, first thing in the morning, spent all day at the client's office, drove home, just wanted to have a glass of wine, relax.

It was dark when I got to my house, outside and in, so, as I watched the garage door open, I was surprised to see her car there, I did not expect her to be here. Obviously she was welcome, anytime, given that we both had keys to each others' places, but usually we knew when the other would be there.

I parked the my car in the garage next to hers, walked in.

"Emily," I called out into the semi darkness. No response. I guess she wasn’t here, went out, someone else drove. Maybe she would be back later.

Wine. Then I’d text her.

I walked into the main living area, the open kitchen, dining area, living room, headed for the kitchen first, tossed my keys into the basket on the counter.

Wine. I needed wine.

I opened the wine fridge, took out a bottle, any bottle, did not look, did not care. I opened it, poured a glass, downed it.

"It's about time you got here, I've been waiting for you."

I jumped, her voice, in the darkness, startled me.

“Emily?”

A small light flickered on, I saw a strange woman, sitting in a chair, a smug, impatient look on her face. No, it wasn't a strange woman. It was Emily, but she...her hair was different, curled, dark, rather than her normal straight, blonde hair.

A wig?

"Emily," I asked, still startled.

"You kept me waiting, she said you'd be here an hour ago. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"I..." I looked at her closely now. She was wearing a black halter top evening gown, slit up her left thigh. Her upper legs were pushed together, but her lower legs were apart. Sitting as such, the slit up her left leg exposed her upper thigh, a flash of skin at the top of the nude stockings she was wearing. She held an unlit cigarette in her right hand.

"I...Emily..."

"Emily said you'd be home an hour ago. I don't like to be kept waiting my any man, let alone a little sissy." She put the cigarette to her mouth, inhaled.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, still not quite comprehending what she was doing, where this was going.

"I'm sorry Ma'am or I'm sorry Ms. Irena," she said, tilting her head. "I'd understood from Emily you were better trained, sissy."

"I...I'm sorry Ms. Irena," I managed to mumble, still stunned at the transformation Emily had undertaken, the simple act of donning a wig, a different makeup style, and she was a different person. "I didn't know that, that anyone would be here. I did not expect Emily here tonight."

"No, of course not," she answered, a grin forming on her face. "Not when she's craving a man."

I let out a small gasp, as I always did when the topic arose, when she teased me, when she inferred her need for a man, in a way that left no doubts that she understood my fantasies.

She stood, leaned against the doorway, let the slit in her dress fall around her thigh.

"What? Don't act surprised, sissy, you know a woman needs a man now and then, no matter how much she loves a pretty creature like you. You know Emily needs to dress up, to wear something elegant, like this, and catch a man's eye. You're not that naive, are you?"

"I...no...no, Ma'am."

"Of course not. I know she loves you...Sara...but sometimes a woman needs to feel, well, that she can spend the night flirting with her date, acting innocent, yet knowing the sexual tension that's building, knowing that she's looking across the dinner table at a strong, masculine man, knowing her innocent look is all it takes to seduce him."

I swallowed, put a hand on the counter to balance myself as she mimicked a seductive look.

"You're so funny, Evan," she cooed seductively, using the one name that was sure to fly through me like a bolt of electricity.

"Em...er..."

"You like that, don't you? She's told me all about him, Sara. She's told me things about him even you don't know."

My blush, my humiliation, my inability to even speak did nothing to stop her. Rather, just the opposite, they encouraged her, confirmation that she was pushing the exact right buttons.

"That makes you so jealous, doesn't it, hearing how much he turns her on, in ways you never can?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I admitted.

"You're a sissy?"

"Yes."

"I'll bet she gets nervous, Sara, standing there before Evan, nervous at that very second she's going to start undressing for him. Wondering if he'll find her attractive, wondering if she's pretty enough. I know what goes through her mind, she's told me. I know. I know. I know as she reaches behind her neck to undo the top of her dress, that she thinks about you for one quick second, pauses, but can't stop, not with Evan there watching her."

"She can't stop because as much as she loves you, she wants him, she wants a man, she wants Evan. She wants to feel him, touching her, caressing her. I know how badly she wants him, Sara."

"Did she...has she..."

She laughed, obvious to my internal struggle, the hope it wasn't true, the fantasy that it was. The reality that I wanted it yet hated it so badly that I could not stop thinking about it, hoping it never happened, yet wanting it just the same.

"He just watched her, sissy, watched her lower her top over her breasts, gazing at her thin frame, her hard nipples. He could tell she was nervous and that turned him on like no woman ever had. Wanting her for so long, so close to having her."

Emily/Irena had lowered the top of her dress over her breasts. I was erect now, of course, sticking straight forward, obvious to her.

"A woman gets so nervous the first time she's with a man, but I know Emily, I know how badly she wanted it tonight, how badly she needed it, how she could not stand dreaming about him anymore. Do you want it as badly, Sara?"

I bit my lip, looked down for the first time. "Yes," I whispered.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yes," I responded slightly louder.

"You dream of it, Sara."

"Yes, all the time."

"But do you really want it? Deep inside? Do you?"

"I...I don't know," I admitted. "I think I do, then...I don't know."

She laughed.

"What?"

"The irony?"

"I don't understand."

"Of course not, because she doesn't always confide in you, Sara. It's ironic, that you're so conflicted, like it was up to you, like it was your decision."

"We have not..."

"You honestly think you have not given her permission already? How can you honestly think you can tell her how much you fantasize about her being with a man that she wants in the worst way and that she does anything but infer that she has your permission to fuck him?"

"She hasn't said..."

"You practically begged her to fuck him, Sara! You'll be surprised if she took you up on that? Honestly?"

"I...I don't know."

"Obviously. But I do, Sara, I do. I was with her earlier and we talked all about it."

I had to ask, I had to. "Has she?"

She turned her back to me, started to remove her dress.

"Has she what, sweetie?"

"Has she...has she been with him?"

"Has she been with him?"

"Yes," I said, some urgency in my voice.

She turned to face me again, struck a shy pose, looking as pretty as she ever looked, standing before me in heels, a garter belt, stockings, panties, her dark, curled hair. "I'm sorry, I'm kind of nervous, Evan," she said half seductively, have shyly.

I was shaking.

"You can't stop thinking about it, can you?"

"No Ma'am."

"Do you know how hot that is? A little sissy thinking about his pretty girlfriend fucking a man. Do you know how hot I get when I stand in front of a man, peel off my panties, wanting his cock inside me. Do you think Emily thinks of you when she's standing in Evan's bedroom, seductively pulling down her panties? Of is all that she can think about is how good his cock is going to feel inside her?"

I had both hands on the counter now, the only way I could remain upright. I wanted to drop to the floor, to crawl to her, to worship her.

"Do you think she's doing that right now? Is that why I'm here? To babysit while your precious Emily is with him?"

She laughed. It took me a second to understand why. Hands on the counter to steady myself, I was also pressed against it, my torso touching the edge of the counter, rocking slightly, humping even. I immediately stopped, horrified at what I was doing.

"Oh, don't stop, sissy, I LOVE the irony. You're imagining your dear Emily getting undressed for Evan, you're desperate to know if she fucked him, and your response is to hump the counter!"

"Look at me Sara...look...have you ever gone into her laundry hamper and found a pair of her soiled panties? Picked them up, gently, nervously. Looked at them. Touched them. Smelled them, wondering if there is more there than just her? Hoping, fantasizing."

I was still rocking, slowly, but moving, nevertheless, the pressure of the counter on the front of my trousers, my panties, incredible.

"I asked you a question, sissy."

"Yes," I said.

"Hoping they were filled with cum?"

"Yes, fuck, all the time," I blurted out.

"Licked them?"

"Yes."

"Tasted her?"

"Yes, Ma'am, yes, I...I can't help it."

"Hoping her panties were filled with Evan's cum."

"Yessssss." I started convulsing, shaking, felt it, could not stop it, the wetness spreading in my panties, through my pants. I groaned, shut my eye, fought, gave up, let it happen, did not care, even welcomed her laugh, her throaty, sinister, ironic laugh.

I finally stopped shaking, disgusted, my libido gone, washed away in with the shameful orgasm. I opened my eyes, she was sitting on the chair, her legs curled up, grinning triumphantly at me.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen," she said, with just enough scorn to feel like a slap, a rebuke.

I took one step back, from the counter, a step towards the bedroom, away from her, away from the shame, the guilt, the horror now flowing through me.

"Where are you going," she asked softly, with the obvious tone that I was to go nowhere.

"Please Em...Ma'am, I...I want to...to clean up."

"You can clean up, Sara. You can get over here on your hands and knees and clean me up...and whatever else you may find inside me."