Captainstrangecollector - Strange Collections

My girlfriend and I are at a friend’s apartments for a party.

The laughter and loud conversation are interrupted by the delicate sound of a pie fork being tapped lightly against a wine glass. Our friend strides into our midst and announces that she has a surprise for us all.

A magician.

We exchange a look. Were this anyone else’s party such news would have had us heading discreetly toward the door but this friend is wealthy and brilliant, with exquisite taste, so our curiosity is piqued.

She makes a theatrical gesture toward the parlor door, where a handsome, dark-eyed man looms in a well-cut gray suit. He smiles kindly, angling his head briefly to acknowledge the smattering of polite applause, and we as a group all gather closer.

He wanders among us, his hands warm in our own, as coins turn into cards then into feathers and wrist watches somehow switch wrists before vanishing completely.

At one point in his performance he asks for a volunteer. There are murmurs and whispers for an impossible moment, then my girlfriend gives my hand a squeeze and steps forward.

So brave, he says, taking her hand with a flourish and bowing slightly, and so lovely. She blushes, to cheers and whistles.

Hands in front of you, palms up, he says and she compiles. And so obedient, he says, gestures toward her and motioning for a round of applause. She laughs and flushes crimson again.

From the inside of his jacket he withdraws a length of rope and a bracelet-size silver ring. He places the ring flat on her outstretched palm of her left hand, then loops the rope through it and lightly around her wrist, draping the remainder up her arm, over her shoulders, then down around her waist.

He steadies himself, takes a deep breath, then whips the rope away. A gasp goes around the room: The silver bracelet now dangles from her opposite wrist.

Applause and open mouths. He smiles broadly, then raises his eyebrows and holds up a finger. He takes my girlfriend’s left hand and places it over the bracelet on her right hand, then withdraws another, identical ring from within his jacket, and places it onto the back of her hand. He loops the rope through the ring, then lays over her hands three times, back and forth and back again. He steadies himself and, with surprising vigor, he whips the rope away again. 

More gasps, louder this time: The bracelet is around her left wrist but both bracelets are now looped, one through the other.

My girlfriend struggles to separate her hands but the rings are too narrow to slip off. Help, she wails comedically to robust laughter.

He holds up a finger again. Oh what now, she moans, to more laughter. From inside his jacket he withdraws another ring, larger this time, and he places it, with great ceremony, on top of her head.

I’m never coming to one of your parties again, my girlfriend says loudly and the hostess’s laughter is loudest of all. 

Carefully he threads the rope through the ring, then winds it around the back of my girlfriend’s head, over her shoulder, and down between her manacled hands. He takes a moment to stretch his fingers, then, gripping the rope tightly, he sets his feet, breathes in and out deeply, and pulls.

Gasps again: The rings on her wrists clatter to the floor and the one on top of her head now rests snugly around her neck.

The applause is loud and sustained. My girlfriend looks stunned, her hands going instinctively to the collar around her throat. We surround her and run our fingers along its curved shape but the chrome is unbroken and unyielding.

The magician takes a deep bow and blows a kiss with both hands to the hostess, who leads us all in fervent applause. 

Excuse me, my girlfriend says at an exaggerated volume. A little help please?

More laughter, then the music fades back in. 

I’m in the kitchen, refilling our drinks, watching her recount the story over and again animatedly, the collar shining brightly against her skin, when the magician reappears, hat on his head, overcoat draped over his arm, case in his hand. 

Thank you again everyone, he says, giving a wide wave and turning to leave. My girlfriend heads after him, catching him by the arm in the narrow hallway entrance.

So seriously, she says to him. How do I get this thing off?

He smiles broadly. I’m so sorry, he says. It doesn’t come off. 

She laughs then tugs on it helplessly. Seriously though, she says. I can’t just walk around with this thing on for the rest of my life.

I’ll make you a deal, he says. Have a drink with me and I’ll see what I can do.

Deal, she says, taking his hand and turning back toward the party. What’ll you have?

No no, he says. Not here, not now. Next week. You pick the place; I’ll buy the drinks.

 She laughs again, her finger hooked around the metal loop as she shakes her head slowly. Fine, she says finally, looking up at him

He extends his hand and out of thin air a business card appears between his fingers. My number, he says.

You know I have a boyfriend, right? she says, tilting her head, her smile side.

I know, he says. But he can’t come.

For the rest of the party I watch her from across the room. She glows and beams and poses with people for photos. 

Better keep an eye on that, someone says to me as I empty and refill my glass, touching up the smile fixed on my lips.

That night I lie awake, staring at the silver glinting in the streetlight as she sleeps beside me.

I hope you’re not jealous, she says. It’s Tuesday afternoon of the following week and she’s getting ready to meet him. It’s just a drink or two, which I think you have to admit he earned with that show.

She kisses me, then again, opening her mouth to me and for a moment all I think about is crawling into bed with her. But when I put my hands on her face to pull her closer I feel the smooth steel warmed by her skin.

She disappears into the bedroom to change. I hear the sound of leather sliding and I feel the bottom of my stomach drop out. She’s going to wear those pants, the ones she knows I like, the ones she bought herself for my birthday, that she wears whenever she wants to get everything she wants.

Another moment more and out she walks. Sure enough, she’s wearing them, her special occasion pants, pairing them with a clingy sweater and a pair of whisper-thin stiletto heels. She wants to look good for him. And she does.

Another kiss, just a peck this time, brief but long enough for me to catch a whiff of a perfume I don’t recognize. 

Have a relaxing evening, she says, breezy but measured, as if she’s eager to leave but doesn’t want to show it. And don’t forget, as soon as I get this collar off I’m all yours again.

It’s midnight when I finally give up waiting and turn off the light. 

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"Would you like to masturbate?" your beautiful wife asks.

You know what that means. You nod and she directs you to get naked. You do so as quickly as possible and crawl into bed with her.

You kiss your wife's neck and caress her taut stomach. You play with her perky breasts as she moans for you. Her fingers move between her legs and her moan deepens as she arches her back.

"Are you thinking about him?" you whisper.

"Of course," she replies with a smile. "I can't help but think about him when I get turned on. I can't help but crave him."

You smile and stroke your cock. "Do you wish he was here with you? Do you wish he was in our bed right now?"

"I wish he was in my pussy right now. I wish his big cock was deep inside me right now. I wish he was fucking my tight little cunt."

You kiss her neck and your lips move over her soft skin and towards her breasts. You encircle one of her nipples and flick your tongue back and forth over it. She moans and you feel utter delight at being able to pleasure her in that way.

"I wish he was here too," you say. "I wish I was watching him fuck you. I wish I was on my knees at the foot of the bed and watching another man fill your pussy while your moans filled the air."

She smiles at you. "That's where a cuck belongs, isn't it? On his knees while another man fucks his wife. Watching as someone else satisfies her. Watching as a better man fucks his wife to a fantastic orgasm."

You're already close to cumming. It's always that way when she talks like that to you. Even better, it turns her on too.

"Are you going to cum?"

"Yes," you admit.

"Me too," your wife replies with a smile. "I'm going to cum while thinking about him. About the superior man that fucks me to so many incredible orgasms."

You cum together. You fall a little deeper in love with your wife as you orgasm. You experience pure, perfect bliss and the look on her face makes it seem like she does too.

"I love you," you say in the aftermath of your orgasm.

She turns her head and kisses you. "I love you too."

Isn't it wonderful to be a cuckold?

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…special moments…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.

Fantasy Week

Last week, I got a great idea from a follower. They basically said that while it may be difficult for my boyfriend to confide all his thoughts and fantasies about sharing me when we talk face to face, he might be more willing to divulge that information if I talked with / flirted about it with him over text. He idea is twofold, first that it is “safer” for him in that he doesn’t have to see me face to face in case one of his fantasies might be “weird” and he could always say later that it was just in the heat of the moment or something. Secondly- once I learn of his fantasies, I will better understand how he wants to share me, and where his boundaries are. Once I know that, I can use that information to my advantage. Either by teasing him using those fantasies, exploring them with him, or perhaps introducing crazier stuff, just to see his reaction.

So, I told my boyfriend that this week, while I was at work, I wanted him to text me one fantasy per day, and that we would talk about it each night when I got home. He was nervous at first. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to do that, but a little bit of sitting on his lap and some soft petting seemed to do the trick to convince him that it would all be in good fun.

I was anxious to see what he said. All morning on Monday I kept looking at my phone for his texts. I didn’t tell him a timeframe, although I probably should have, so I had no idea when he would write me. I didn’t have any message until about two in the afternoon. When I finally got it, I was really eager to see what he had come up with.

In the interest of time, I will just list his fantasies by day, and then talk about each.

Monday: “I want to see you dress up really sexy and flirtatious when we go out with friends” I asked him more about this when I got off of work that evening. From his text, I couldn’t tell if he meant that he wanted me to do this once, or all the time. He said that the more I do it the better. I asked what he had in mind - I told him that if I wore a halter top and fuck me heels out to dinner with friends, that would not only be inappropriate for the occasion, but would probably lead to both of us getting some pretty strange looks. I told him that I was totally willing to look “hot” though, but I told him it would be at my discretion as to what degree. Maybe this means tighter dresses, shorter skirts and heels on occasion. If it means a bigger wardrobe for me, and it is a fantasy of his to see me look hotter and more available, I’m all for it. Easy one.

Tuesday: “I want to hear you having sex with someone else” This one sort of surprised me a little. I would have thought he would have said that he wanted to see me first, but he said hear. What does that mean? It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to approach that one. A while ago, one of my followers had actually suggested that I use a phone to call him while I was with Brandon. That would accomplish the “hearing me” fantasy for him, but it could be a little awkward to try to subtly call my bf without Brandon knowing what I was doing. I’m still thinking about how I can help him get this fantasy played out. Feel free to help with ideas guys… How can I let my bf hear me without it being awkward for the guy I’m with?

Wednesday: “I want you to sleep with somebody that is married” I’m pretty sure this stems from a conversation that he and I had a while back about this one guy I work with. He is gorgeous, and I would totally love to get him in bed, but, as I mentioned before, he is married and has a kid. I’m not sure I want to risk both the work situation and the homewrecker potential for this. So, will this fantasy happen… Maybe, I don’t know. But probably not with the guy that originally inspired it. If I happened to find myself in a situation that allowed for this in the future, then at least I know that my boyfriend is open to the idea. However, what I thought about this fantasy of his was that it was more revealing of what he is willing to let me to do and become. He loves the idea that his sweet little innocent girlfriend could be “the other woman” that tempted a married guy to stray. That is pretty devilish of him.

Thursday: “I’d love it if you would have a one night stand” We have sort of had this conversation before. Basically, when I asked him about this, he told me he wanted me to have a one night stand with somebody I had absolutely no interest in outside of that one night. He said that he wanted me to hook up with somebody that was completely not my type at all… A slacker stoner guy, some athletic hardbody with no real smarts at all; he even mentioned that he thought it would be very hot if I hooked up with a thug, tattooed, prison-like guy for one night. That one actually kind of shocked me. Usually, he is pretty reserved in his preferences for guys he is willing to share me with. That idea is not reserved or cautious at all. It’s scary, and dangerous, and uncontrollable. And those are all my thoughts, not his. I’m not sure how I feel about the criminal idea, but the thought of a one night stand might be worth exploring further, even if it is just used to tease out more fantasies of guys he wants me to try out.

Friday: “It would be hot if you spent all day on your birthday with Brandon” Boom. There it is. I knew there was something he was saving for Friday. I was actually pretty pleased with this little fantasy of his. It played right into the little suggestion I made for my birthday present earlier, so I knew that he had been thinking about what I had said. I took the whole day off for my birthday next week in advance, and I was planning on spending it with my bf, but he totally changed those plans with that text Friday afternoon. I couldn’t wait until I got off work to text him back after he sent me that, so I answered right away. “Does that mean you got me the present I asked for?” He didn’t answer, but when I got home, he gave it to me.

So cute. I thought it was perfect. He said he thought it was the hottest thing he could imagine me wearing. He got me a black lace cami with purple accent bows and drawstring in the back, black stockings and a matching black and purple thong. It’s actually very sexy. He probably spent close to $100 on me. He said that he bought it online, so he wasn’t sure if it would fit right or not, so I told him I would find out. I took the bag into the bedroom, stripped down, and put everything on. He did pretty well. It didn’t fit perfect, it was actually slightly too small, but I’m ok with him thinking I’m a little bit smaller size than I am. It wasn’t too small that I couldn’t get into it. Once I did, I couldn’t resist taking a picture of myself. I’m not sure why I did. Maybe to remind myself of my own situation, maybe to show my bf in the future… I’m not sure. I just felt sexy as hell, and I felt like it, so I did it. I took off the lingerie, and got dressed again before leaving the bedroom, and my boyfriend was pacing around the living room waiting for me to come out. He asked how it fit, and I just answered “wouldn’t you like to know”. Hot.

I told him to sit down while I texted Brandon, because I was about to make that fantasy of his come true. he did, and asked me what I was writing, so I told him the whole conversation as we texted back and forth.

Me: “hey, just wondering, what are you doing Monday?”

Brandon: “why, you want to come over after work again?”

Me: “I was thinking something different this time”

Brandon: “like what?”

Me: “it’s my birthday”

Brandon: “and you aren’t going out with [bf]?”

Me: “maybe later in the evening, but he’s working during he day, and I have the whole day off. Can you come over early?”

Brandon: “I’m supposed to work too”

Me: “is that a no then?”

Brandon: “is that what you want for your birthday?”

Me: “yes”

Brandon: “say it”

Me: “I want you to come over and fuck me all day long for my birthday, B”. (That was hot, I didn’t know why I called him B… I never have before, but I liked it)

Brandon: “I’ll get off”

And that’s that. I have a birthday date. A full day, doing whatever I want. Not only with my boyfriends approval, but fulfilling a fantasy of his at the same time.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

…just give her time…<3 emmie @ le cocu quotidien.