Kim Learns There's No Turning Back

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More and more of late, I find myself obsessing over a simple question, with a simple answer, which I am completely unable to wrap my head around: “How?” How did I get here? How did she get here? How did we transform our lives and our marriage into this? How did it happen so fast? And how in the world am I so at peace with it?

The only answer I ever seem to find: “One day at a time.” It’s not very helpful.

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Bright & early Monday morning, I rolled out of bed and padded down the stairs in my nightshirt. I made my way to our kitchen, where I could hear David moving around. I arrived to find my husband already dressed for work, leaning against the counter and scanning the newspaper while a sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up as I came in.

“Mornin’. Big day!”

“Yikes. Big day,” I agreed.

“Are you nervous?”

“You could say that. Are you?”

He stopped to consider the question. “Nope, I’m really not. It’s gonna be great. And you’re gonna do great — I know it, even if you don’t.”

“Ha, thanks; I’ll trust you on that,” I said. “Can I make you breakfast?”

“No, thanks Kim, but I have to go in early. I’ll grab something on the way.” He paused for a second as a thought occurred to him. “But, I do think Mia deserves a special breakfast today. Can you take care of that for me?”

“Of course, you’re right. If she gets up early enough, that is. I have to be out of here in an hour.”

“She’s already stirring; I think she’ll be down soon.” He checked his watch. “Yep, I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you tonight, sweetie.” He stopped to kiss me on my forehead before grabbing his briefcase and heading for the door. As he walked out he called back to me, “Big day, big day…”

There was no telling if or when Mia would actually materialize, so I went back upstairs to get ready for work. School was starting today and, as predicted, I’d gotten the job. Now 38 years old, I was the youngest Headmaster in the school’s long history, and today would be my first day of classes. Of course I wanted to look good for it, so I’d chosen my best suit — gunmetal gray, pencil skirt, perfect fit; unmistakably expensive. As I did my makeup I caught sight of my constant companion: the necklace David bought me for my last birthday — my day collar. It was discreet, but meaningful, and held in place by a small lock in the back; I did not hold the key.

When I got back downstairs I saw Mia, eating a fruit salad at the kitchen table and browsing her phone. Shit, I didn’t actually expect her to make it down in time.

It had been just seven months since her first date with David — seven months since she’d helped me live out my greatest fantasy by fucking my husband, while I watched and wallowed in the humiliations they’d doled out. It turned out to be such a powerfully intoxicating moment that I never really sobered up. I just kept setting up more dates with her. Five months ago, when she learned she’d been accepted to graduate school at Northwestern, we celebrated by giving her a key to our apartment so she could come and go as she pleased, fucking David whether or not I was there to watch. Four months ago, we’d closed on our new house and joyously invited Mia to come stay with us. Three months ago we moved in: I watched David carry Mia across the threshold and almost fainted with jealous arousal.

Through all of this, David was so considerate. We both knew I was the one pushing things forward, drunk on his and Mia’s dominance, but every step of the way he was checking in with me, giving me outs — “Are you really ok?” … “Are you sure about this?” … “Do you want us to pump the brakes, take some time for ourselves?” I realized the other day that he hadn’t asked me those questions in a while. I wondered if would ask tonight.

But for now, there was Mia, at the table. Christ, even just rolled out of bed she was painfully, effortlessly beautiful. I wouldn’t have time to change, but I’d told David I would help her with breakfast, so that’s what I was going to do. I walked in.

“Hello there,” I said.

“Hey there! Big day, huh?”

“That it is, that it is…” We shared an awkward silence for a moment. Awkward for me anyway, and maybe even for her as well. Lots of things left unsaid just at this moment.

“So…” Mia said, trailing off.

“So,” I offered, “what are you up to today?”

Mia shrugged. “Whatever I want, I guess. Gonna get ready for tonight.” She still had two weeks before she had to be at school — maybe the end of her last summer vacation.

“Right, right … well, on that note, David thought you should have a special breakfast today, which makes sense. But I do have a time thing now, so if you wanted to skip it, we could–”

“Skip it? Aw, hell no, Kim. I love special breakfast! Come on, we’ll make it quick.”

That was predictable. Mia went right back to eating that fruit salad she’d pulled out of the fridge as I walked up to the table. I took off my jacket, hiked my skirt up above my knees, and crawled under the table. Mia was wearing just an oversized t-shirt and no panties; she slid forward on the chair so I could get to her, and suddenly I was face to face with her honeypot. I took in the view for just a second before diving in.

I was tickled and tormented by the scene all at once. Here I was, a confident, successful woman dressed to the nines in my finest business attire, and I was starting off the day of my professional triumph by worshipping this brat’s ravenous quim. Because I’d been told to. At work, I was in charge, and even before I was in charge I’d been accustomed to having other people defer to me. But at home, this college girl was the boss of me. So was my husband, but mostly he delegated to Mia and let her set the rules, which made it all the more humbling. Why did I let this continue?

The warm, slick tingle between my legs helped answer that question for me, and I found my enthusiasm for the task at hand. The thought of what I must look like right now set me off. Remembering what we had planned for tonight set me off. The taste of her increasingly juicy pussy, which I’d long ago learned to love, set me off. But somehow what set me off more than anything was the fact that Mia just went right on enjoying her breakfast, like I wasn’t even there.

After a few minutes she finally acknowledged my presence. “Ahhh — I tell you, Kim, this is the best way to wake up. You oughta try it some time. Hey, maybe you can find someone even weaker and subbier than you to play with.” You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but still her barbs struck home; my face flushed and my groin tingled.

“I guess that’s pretty unlikely,” she continued. “But who cares. What matters is that you are getting really good at this. Mmmmm … I mean it, sweetheart, you should be proud: you’re an expert now. And what did I tell you the very first time we met? I promised to turn you into a world-class muff-diver, and I keep my promises. Isn’t that right, Kimmy?” I peeled my lips off of her to answer.

“Yes, Miss Mia,” I said, and then went right back to work. We’d dropped the whole ‘Miss Mia’ routine ages ago … except for when my tongue was inside of her, which was often.

“Ahhh, but this really hits the spot. I was going a little crazy — he hasn’t had has dick in me in over a week, been saving it up. Say, how long has it been for you? Haha…” She laughed at her own joke. We both knew the answer: not since my birthday; not since July. I sped up my tongue to stop myself from thinking too hard about it. “Oooh, yeah, there it is. Mmmm … So tell me Kimmy, are you looking forward to tonight?” I stopped lapping at her just long enough to reply.

“Yes, Miss Mia.”

“Hey, no, hold on.” She leaned back so she could see my face beneath the table. “Tell me the truth, not just what you think I want to hear. You might as well, at this point.”

Jesus, she wanted the truth? How long did she have? I’d thought of little else for the past month. The sick thing is, I really was looking forward to it. Once in a while a wave of dread would wash over me, but only rarely. Mostly I was eager. Mostly I thought it was exciting. Mostly I even thought it was a good idea. The problem, of course, was that it’s hard to be rational about something when the mere thought of it makes you flood your panties.

After a pause I was able to look her in the eye and answer.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it … it’s complicated, but yes.” For once I peered up at her from between her legs and saw what looked like sincerity and affection. Wow. She treats me like a real person most of the time, but when we play together I’m always her toy. The mask had slipped for a second, and it was jarring. It wouldn’t last long.

“Good, so am I.” She smiled warmly and ran her fingers through my hair, then the mischief returned to her face and she guided my mouth back to her clit; I attacked it with zeal, grateful for that small moment of kindness. “Oh, Kimmy … my sweet, sad humiliation junkie … Mmmmm, yes … you did so well to find me, Kimmy — I’m just what you needed … ohhh, fuck yes … you’ll see, it’s gonna be glorious, and you made it all possible … now do your fucking job and make me cum…”

It didn’t take long after that. I worked to get her off as fast as I could; she sighed and squirmed and soon came with a shudder, gracing me with a tiny gush from her hole. When I crawled out from under the table Mia took one looked at me and guffawed. “Oh man, Kimmy, you should see what you look like,” she said. I already knew: a supposedly classy lady who, at 7:30 in the morning, wore disheveled hair and smeared wet makeup, reeking of pussy.