SatisFaction: Erotic Fantasies for the Advanced and Adventurous Couple
272
SatisFaction: Erotic Fantasies for the Advanced and Adventurous Couple
272eBook
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Overview
"Many people tend to think that fantasies are far-fetched and out of reach, that they are just for those girls—you know, the girls you've spent your whole life convincing others you're nothing like. Well, it's time to change our way of thinking and become more open to being just like those girls in our relationships. It's time to turn your fantasies, and your partner's fantasies, into reality, and not just on birthdays and holidays or when your man finally paints the garage. They should never be just for special occasions, but an active part of your everyday life. From this point forward, you should take a bold step, make a liberating decision. It's time to make fantasies and role-playing a regular part of your sexual agenda!" —Karrine Steffans
Some of the chapters include:
- Defilement
- Domination
- The One-Man Gangbang
- Paid Escort
- Self-Pleasure
- If I Have To Show You What To Do, Why Are You Here?
- Swingers
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781609418885 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Grand Central Publishing |
| Publication date: | 08/10/2011 |
| Sold by: | Hachette Digital, Inc. |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 272 |
| Sales rank: | 534,918 |
| File size: | 639 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
SatisFaction
Erotic Fantasies for the Advanced & Adventurous Couple.By Steffans, Karrine
Grand Central Publishing
Copyright © 2011 Steffans, KarrineAll right reserved.
ISBN: 9780446553209
Prologue
Ready… Set… Fuck!
Well, wouldn’t you know it… here we are again! Back for another round of frank and meaningful discourse, contemplative advice, and what I hope will be, for you, page-after-page of nonstop hot-and-sexy fun, as much fun as it has been for me to pen. SatisFaction: Erotic Fantasies for the Advanced & Adventurous Couple promises to be just that, and more. What’s most exciting for me about this, my fourth book, is that it’s a hybrid work combining erotic fiction with advice and instructions on how to incorporate these fictional erotic adventures into your committed relationship.
When I first began outlining SatisFaction, I was unsure just how much I could lend myself to the subject of erotic fantasies. While many may consider me quite worldly when it comes to sex, at my core I’ve always been monogamous and traditional, preferring to operate within the realms of what most would define as traditional one-on-one, male-to-female interaction. Sure, I love role-playing, but that’s not an uncommon practice in conventional relationships. This little foray into the range of possibilities for keeping your relationship fresh and exciting proved just as much an eye-opener for me as I’m sure it will be for you. Through intensive research, I began to delve into worlds that were wildly fascinating and exotic, far beyond what I now realize has been my relatively limited scope of experience.
I can’t begin to recount how many different types of sexual fantasies I came across while conducting my carnal investigations. Just when I thought I had reached the limit of things to do, I would stumble upon a nugget of information that led to a mother lode of sexual fantasia, the likes of which would take at least ten more SatisFactions to even scratch the surface.
I initially began this quest for knowledge by doing what any self-respecting, hard-nosed investigative author would: I Googled “free porn” and hit the Internet jackpot, finding 71,900,000 links. That’s right, there are millions of sites on the Internet offering free pornography and/or sex-related material. And that’s just as of the writing of this book.
Now, most women don’t begin their days scouring the Internet for porn. We’re usually busy with lives sometimes bigger than we planned or for which we bargained. We are mothers and daughters, sisters and wives, aunts and grandmothers. We are all things to all the people in our orbit, and more often than not we get lost in the shuffle of such an existence, forgetting to take care of ourselves. What we have to realize is that when we do this, we are also, by default, neglecting the people we work so hard to take care of, like our husbands. When we’re not up to par, neither is our marriage.
If we’re overtaxed and overwhelmed, sex is usually the first thing to fall by the wayside, creating an Achilles’ heel of vulnerability we can ill afford. The sexual health of our marriages should be something we fight to strengthen, not leave weakened and exposed. This is the area where outside forces, which can cause a breach in your bond, are most likely to get in. Show me a sexually unhappy, unsatisfied, and unchallenged husband or wife, and I’ll show you the potential for a wandering eye.
And yes, while it is true that marriage—whether spiritual, civil, or legal—is dependent on much more than sex, all the parts must work together to benefit the whole. Sex without love and trust can never lead to real intimacy. And while it’s also true that I’m not a professional, I am a real woman with real experiences. I’m a mom, a wife, and a businesswoman doing all that I can to keep my family happy, my husband entertained, and my career thriving. It is one helluva juggling act, but I’m all-in—100 percent. With everything that I have on my plate, I do my best not to lose focus. The last thing I want is for the man I have chosen to spend the rest of my life with to wake up one morning, look me in the face, and say, “I’m bored.”
Remember: A man will either marry the woman who will fulfill all his sexual fantasies or cheat on his wife with her.
Harsh? Perhaps. True? Probably. Does this mean every man and woman on the planet wants wild, exotic sex from his or her lover? Of course not. There are plenty of couples thrilled with their all-missionary-all-the-time sex lives and wouldn’t have it any other way. If you and your partner are one of those couples, please, give this book to your mother. Seriously. She’s probably having better, more adventurous sex than you.
With all the exhaustive research I undertook for this book, I have learned that there are more than seventy-four million ways to skin your cat. Husbands and wives alike are looking for new and exciting things to do to add a spark to their relationship. Most of us, however, feel as if those sparks and the fantasies that are intertwined with them are far-off ideas, too complicated and tedious to undertake. Many women feel as if being a wife is something completely different from being a mistress, a liaison, or even a whore. The surprising truth in all of this is that marriage is the only institution that morally condones you being all those things and more to your spouse without feeling compromised, dirty, embarrassed, or judged.
Ladies, you want to be and do as much as your husbands desire, as well as all the things you’ve wanted to do yourselves, but were afraid to try in less significant relationships. I mean, seriously, you can’t just do this sort of stuff with some guy you’re dating. The fantasies and acts we discuss in this book should be shared with a life partner, someone with whom you are exploring and building the utmost levels of intimacy and trust. If, in fact, you are not in a marriage of some sort, please stop reading right now and give this book to someone who is. The last thing I want is to be responsible for thousands of women following the advice inside these pages with some random dude who will sexually exploit them, encouraging an exploration of every single fantasy herein and never calling back after the last chapter. As fun and lighthearted as it may seem on the surface, this book is a serious matter. Used responsibly, it can be your marriage’s secret weapon. In the hands of the uncommitted and reckless, however, it is dangerous—emotionally, spiritually, even physically—to engage in some of these fantasies with anyone who doesn’t care about your well-being.
Don’t rush the ready. If you must have this book, put it away for safekeeping until you’re married, preferably to someone who is fully deserving of you. Until then, peek at the pages, take note, but reserve this kind of stuff for your life mate, not some waffling wankster who’s not sure if he’s ready to even call you his girlfriend.
As for you men, maybe you’ve been afraid to tell your wife about your fantasies, thinking she’ll be repulsed, angry, judgmental, or all three. This usually happens because when women hear the word fantasy, we automatically assume you’re talking about something that doesn’t involve us. Let your wife know that she is your fantasy. Include her in your every whim. Having this trusty how-to on your nightstand is just the way to make that happen.
And because I believe in seeing a thing all the way through to its most logical—or in this case, illogical—conclusion, each chapter is followed by what I call a V-Log, short for Vixen Log, a hypothetical cautionary scenario, if you will. These fictitious examples detail what could happen if the fantasy in the prior chapter goes horribly awry. I include them to reinforce that you should read every chapter in this book with a close eye and thoroughly investigate beforehand just what it means to implement these fantasies. Erotic role-playing is an excellent way to increase intimacy and stoke the heat in your love life, but must be handled with absolute care. When you know better, you do better.
Chapter One
Domination
Fantasy
Sex with a married man, to me, was the best sex in the world. The thrill of being a mistress and knowing he was fucking me better, harder, and more adventurously than he fucked his wife got me excited in ways nothing else could. Sexual encounters with married men allow them to be assertive and in control in ways they might never have attempted with their spouses. Husbands often found themselves in power struggles at home, browbeaten over every little thing. It could make a man understandably tense. With a mistress, someone like me, they could release some of that pent-up tension and be in control of everything—when they see me, where they see me, how long they see me, and with whom I can interact. A mistress is a woman in a box, constrained, completely subject to her married lover’s will.
As restrictive as that kind of arrangement sounds, I loved being the other woman… savored it, even. And although my relationship with my married lover was limited to a specific place at a specific time, I was privy to a view of him that his wife would never see, a side that would disturb her if she ever did. I knew the real him, unmasked. I knew the man who loved to indulge in edgy things, sadistic things—things that weren’t always conventional or socially acceptable. Within the four walls of our motel, he was my overlord and master, able to manipulate me with his brutal touch and the promise of his superior cock.
I relished the sway my married lover held over me, and in time my need to be sexually dominated by him became a narcotic and as necessary as the air I breathed.
It was late in the evening and I was waiting for him at our usual spot—a dingy, dirty motel steps away from the highway and a truck stop. When I wasn’t with him in this sleazy lair, I was an upscale, professional woman who enjoyed the finer things in life. I preferred plush hotels like the Four Seasons and The Peninsula, liveried valets, and Michelin-starred room service to some low-class dive like this. I would have never chosen it on my own, but for him I was willing to be downmarket. For him, I would get in the gutter.
This location, from the very beginning, had been his idea. We needed a spot, he said, where dark deeds could go unnoticed, a room where he could “put me in my place.” This place delivered just that, with its cheap curtains, seldom-laundered bedspread, and threadbare sheets, all spattered with mysterious stains.
I waited, geared in knee-high leather boots, a body-hugging black vinyl dress, and a red cape. I glanced at the clock radio next to the bed, anxious, eager, nervous, and a little afraid. I never knew how he would come at me, how he would leave me; the battle scars he left me with were different each time. They became a road map to our couplings, bruises that spanned my body in odd patterns, each revealing everything and nothing about who we were. I paced back and forth, around and around, like a feral animal, trying to still my mind in anticipation of his arrival.
I dug into my overnight bag, checking my supplies, rustling through the body wash, vibrators, lotions, and handcuffs. I searched and took count, double-checking I hadn’t forgotten the things he liked. Suddenly a firm hand wrapped around the right side of my throat and squeezed as another hand clasped the left side. My heart raced, my body electrified by the thrill of surprise. Even though I’d expected him, he’d caught me unaware. His body pressed into my back as his hands slid down to my shoulders and shoved me facedown onto the bed.
He flipped me over and loomed above, a dark scowl on his face. I whimpered with fear, even though I was aroused. He leaned down, close to my face.
“I’m late,” he growled, “and it’s all your fault.”
“I’m sorry,” I squeaked. It was always my fault. It always would be. Without fault, there could be no punishment, and I needed to be punished. I was a bad, bad girl.
“So what are we going to do about it?” he asked, his dark eyes piercing mine. “Do you think I should cut you a break?”
“No, master.”
“Then what should I do?”
His finger trailed up the inside of my thigh, over my moistening slit, resting on my fleshy mound.
“Hmmm?” he asked again.
I trembled beneath him. He gripped my crotch, squeezing it tight. My pussy throbbed at his violent touch.
“Tell me, you cunt. What should I do?”
“Show me no mercy,” I whispered.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“Show me no mercy!” I shouted.
He released his grip and mounted me, his legs pressed tightly against the sides of my hips. He grabbed my throat with both hands, first choking me, then slapping my face as he grunted with anger. My cheeks went numb, and my body was on fire.
He ripped my cape open.
“I brought…”
“Shut up!” he barked, slapping my face once again.
He grabbed my shoulders and shook me like a rag doll, then flung me back down with disgust.
“If I hadn’t been late, we’d be fucking by now.”
“I know,” I cried, my cheeks burning with pain.
“Maybe you did it on purpose,” he sneered. “Were you fucking someone else?”
“Never,” I said, reaching between his legs. “I only want you.”
He slapped my hand away.
“Say it again,” he demanded with another slap to my face.
“I only want you.”
“Say no one fucks you better.”
“No one fucks me better.”
“Louder!” he ordered.
“No one fucks me better than you!” I screamed at the ceiling.
He wrapped his hands around my throat, wringing it tight.
“Now say it.”
I could barely breathe, let alone speak. I mouthed the words, my face flushed, my eyes stinging with tears. He released me, flinging my head back. I exploded in a fit of coughs and gasped for air. His smile was sinister as he watched with indifference.
“Prove it,” he said.
I reached up, running my hand over his shirt, searching for his nipple. I pinched it as hard as I could, twisting it cruelly, enough to break the skin. A tiny dot of blood appeared.
“You bitch!” he cried as I took advantage of the moment and shoved him away. I rushed from the bed, away from him, across the room, cowering in the corner near the window. My cape had fallen onto the floor. He stepped over it as he came toward me, kicking off his shoes, removing his tie, peeling out of his shirt and pants with quiet seething. His dick was a knife inside his briefs, aimed at me, ready to kill.
“Come here,” he demanded.
Nervously, I did.
He circled me, slow, deliberate, deciding his next move. He stopped behind me, his arm across my throat, pulling my head back. He squeezed my breast with his free hand, squeezed it hard enough to make me spill tears.
“No one can save you, you know,” he whispered.
His hand slid down the black vinyl dress, past my stomach, stopping at my loins. He cupped my hot wetness, gently at first, then hard and vicious, lifting me up by my pussy. I moaned in delicious agony.
“I don’t want to be saved,” I said in reply.
He bent me over with a harsh shove and delivered a series of slaps to my ass that radiated through my wet hole all the way to my clit.
“You’re a whore,” he barked as he slapped me again.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m a whore.”
“You’re a fucking slut.”
“I’m a fucking slut.”
He lifted my dress, his angry hands gripping my fleshy bottom.
“I love this fat ass, you fucking slut.”
“Then fuck it,” I begged. “Fuck my fat ass.”
He pulled out his cock, bending me farther, putting my ass in the air. He crammed into my sphincter. It resisted at first, and then bloomed like a lotus, letting him inside. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and snatched my head back, thrusting deep inside me over and over.
“Take it, you bitch!”
I wriggled and writhed against his evil fuck stick. He pumped a few more times, then pushed me away, onto the floor, his dick snapping out of my ass with a pop.
I tried to crawl forward, but he grabbed me by the hair again and hauled me backward toward the bed.
“Get up there and lie down with your feet facing the headboard.”
I climbed weakly onto the bed, my asshole, ass, and face stinging raw.
“Lower. I want your head hanging off.”
I scooted a few inches, eager to please him. He was upside down as I watched him now, blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy.
He shoved his dirty cock in my mouth.
“Now suck it.”
I grabbed it with both hands, pulling it in, tasting my body’s discarded remains.
“Suck my dick, you shitty-mouthed whore!”
I twirled my tongue around the head of his meat, and then pulled the shaft deeper inside. He began pumping, slow at first, then faster, harder, beating my mouth with his monster. He groaned in ecstasy as he fucked my face, my saliva bubbling around his cock, out of my mouth, onto the soiled carpet.
I began to gag, but he continued pumping, demanding I service him despite all else. I kept on sucking, my pussy dripping with hot desire. I held on to him with one hand, touching my aching clit with the other.
“Leave it alone,” he said. “Your pussy belongs to me.”
He pushed my face away, removing his dick, then grabbed me by the hair and neck and pulled me onto the floor.
“On your knees!”
I crawled forward, onto my knees.
He lifted the back of my dress, grabbed the back of my red thong, and ripped it off. The sensation of the material being pulled quickly against my clit sent a spasm of pleasure through my body. He ran his index and middle fingers down the crack of my ass, stopping at my very wet pussy. He was on his knees behind me now, his cock toying at the entrance to my love tunnel. He moved it up and down against the wet slit, torturing me with the promise of more.
“Put it in,” I begged. “Please fuck me right now.”
He positioned himself with exact precision, and then plunged his steel rod as deep as it could go. He hit the bottom, awakening the entire length of me inside. My walls quivered, their juices fully unleashed, as he did a slow grind against me, stirring his dick around inside. He pushed in hard. He pulled out slow, stopping right at the edge of my tunnel, close to the exit, the most sensitive area inside my walls. He lingered there, his dick rubbing slowly against the floor of my pussy. I was dying inside, on the verge of explosion. He pulled back a little bit farther, then plunged back in, all the way to the balls. The dam burst inside me.
“I’m cumming!” I cried.
He slapped my ass, and the sting resonated, making me cum harder.
“Do it again!”
He slapped the other cheek as he pounded me with his cock. My body buckled beneath him as my hole gushed and gushed. He held on to me, pulling me back into place, pumping with renewed vigor, raising his thigh so he could maneuver his thrust even more.
I shook violently against him from the intensity of my orgasm. He pulled out and picked me up, placing me on my back at the edge of the bed.
He rammed his cock deep inside me, thrusting with desperation. I gazed up at him as my throbbing clit pulsed anew. He slapped my face and squeezed my breasts, staining the soft flesh with bruises. I raised my hips to meet his thrusts, but he didn’t like that. He wanted to be in control. He always had to be the one in charge.
“Bad girl,” he grunted, pulling out of me. “I run this show.”
“Then run it,” I said, daring to be bold.
Angered by my flippant remark, he lifted me up by my pussy with his right hand and grabbed me by the back of my head. He flung me higher on the bed. I landed with a flop, terrified and turned on. He climbed on over me and shoved two fingers inside my pussy, fucking me hard, so hard that it hurt. My eyes filled with tears, but I didn’t speak. I didn’t want to. The pain was delicious. My clit was engorged to capacity, throbbing with fury. My walls trembled as I neared release. He pulled his two fingers out, balled his hand up into a fist, and shoved it inside me. I came with a jolt, my body rocked so violently, it caused me to sit up. That didn’t stop him. He fisted my pussy, all the way up to his wrist, working his closed hand inside me, setting me off even more. I reeled with ecstasy, collapsing back onto the bed, dizzy, delirious. I felt like I would faint.
He removed his fist and placed his hand, drenched with my pussy juices, open-palmed on my face. He stuck his fingers inside my mouth.
“Open wider,” he said.
I widened my jaws, sticking my tongue out. He put his whole hand inside. I licked and sucked his fingers, savoring my taste.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
He patted me on the cheek and got up from the bed.
I watched him, wondering what would come next. He gathered his clothes from the floor and began to get dressed.
“Wait!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
He stared at me plainly.
“I have to go home.”
I rushed over to him, my body fully alive from the thrashing it had just taken.
“But I thought…”
“Sorry, honey. I just needed to get some aggression out. I could never do this at home. You don’t know how valuable you are to me.”
He touched my cheek, and then finished dressing.
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him, knowing this drill.
“Till next time,” he said as he stood at the door.
His eyes lingered on mine for a moment, and then he was gone.
I grabbed my clothes from the closet and got dressed, giving him time to get in his car and leave. I followed behind a few minutes later.
He got home first. I arrived ten minutes later. I could hear him in the shower as I walked into our bedroom and tossed my bag of goodies into the back of the closet. His shirt hung halfway out of the hamper, stained with a tiny dot of blood. I pushed it all the way down and tossed in my soiled clothing. I took a fresh nightgown and underwear from my dresser and showered in the bathroom down the hall.
He was already in bed when I returned to our room smelling clean and wholesome. I slid in next to him. We watched Conan’s monologue, our usual routine, and then he reached robotically for me, climbing on top, in our usual, boring missionary fuck.
Reality
In all marital relationships, someone assumes a dominant position. That position, ideally, should be shared between the two of you, alternating depending upon the circumstance. Perhaps your husband is the dominant voice when it comes to making repairs around the house. Maybe you play a more dominant role when it comes to caring for the children. Whatever the case, there should be a balance of power. Neither of you should exclusively be the dominant person in every area of your lives together. Such a scenario is not conducive to a healthy relationship.
A woman or man who is dominated by a mate often experiences diminished self-esteem, lack of confidence, and, in many cases, a fear of making decisions, lest the repercussions of those decisions create additional duress. Such relationships also prove rife with resentment, in both parties. The more dominant person may resent the fact that the mate doesn’t speak up more or take the initiative, thus causing him or her to lose respect for that mate. Where there is an absence of respect, the door opens for all manner of infidelity and betrayal. Conversely, the more submissive person may despise feeling as if he or she is being controlled or suppressed, and may also seek comfort and solace outside the marriage. Both partners must wholly encourage each other and play a positive, active part in maintaining a balanced relationship. Only then can you thrive together.
Vixen Tip
For those of you who are deep into your sexual fantasies and consider it a lifestyle, consider seeing a sex therapist now and again to be sure that what you’re doing and how you’re doing it is in the best sexual spirit and not a result of deep-rooted angst or anger. Also, seeing a sex therapist regularly may safeguard against these sorts of fantasies causing more harm than good.
That said, however, in the bedroom—or whatever setting you choose for your sexual encounter—role-play involving dominant and submissive partners can, if properly executed, lead to extremely fulfilling and explosive sex.
While not everyone is into domination, it can be a fun and exciting way to add variety to your relationship. I must emphatically state again that it’s imperative there be mutual consent beforehand. This is not the type of thing to spring on someone in the middle of intimacy. Everyone doesn’t always respond the same to an unexpected slap in the face or a nipple pinched hard enough to draw blood. Your mate could easily misinterpret it as you taking out your anger under the guise of engaging in sexual play and sour on the whole experience. Things like this can turn ugly very quickly unless you clearly define what is and isn’t allowed.
Vixen Tip
It’s Supposed to Hurt So Good!
Just as with defilement, make sure you and your partner are physically prepared and capable of taking the smacks and blows that come with the domination experience. Ladies, don’t use this opportunity to give your man a fat lip for that sarcastic comment he made to you in mixed company last month. Similarly, gentlemen, don’t see this as a chance to check your lady for some slight she has long forgotten.
If, however, the two you of agree ahead of time to incorporate “punishment” into this experience for minor perceived wrongs and elect to work out said wrongs in the bedroom rather than over dinner, this could be the perfect way to do so. Save them up for just this occasion, agreeing to let this moment put them to rest.
Talk dirty! Hurl agreed-upon epithets! And yes, it is important that you both agree about which coarse words you’re free to use on each other. Now is not the time to call your wife a “stank bitch” without having cleared it first. Make a list, if you have to, of words that are a go. Otherwise, you risk being misconstrued or, heaven forbid, perceived as expressing how you really feel about your mate!
The key is to punish your spouse with an endurable amount of painful pleasure, not to beat and berate anyone silly. Implementing domination should be done in a way that enhances your sexual encounter without opening literal and figurative wounds that cause irretrievable damage to your relationship.
Fear not. This isn’t as difficult as you think. Pain and ecstasy are separated by a thin wall, and in this kind of experience it’s very easy to teeter on the brink of either. But with the proper amount of foreplay, a stinging blow to the face or buttocks, followed by an approved aspersion, can cause that wall to drop and make the two merge into something truly extraordinary!
Now that you’ve agreed this is going to happen, know your boundaries and limitations. Agree upon and employ the use of a safe word—we like buttons because it has a nice, harmless ring to it, but feel free to come up with your own—for when things have gone beyond adventurous play for either of you and made you feel physically threatened, genuinely humiliated, and/or afraid.
Where you choose to have your encounter take place is just as important. Will it be at home, and, if so, can you clearly separate the marital bed where you make sweet, gentle love from the place where you smack each other around and call each other less-than-flattering names? If you have no problem doing so, by all means, proceed! If, however, using the same place for all your sexual experiences blurs the lines too much, consider a location outside your bedroom. In the case of domination, a seedy motel might add to the atmosphere of simulated humiliation you’re trying to create.
While there are plenty of local stores and places on the Internet to purchase the necessary costumes and accessories, you may already have a store in mind where you plan to go for everything you need.
Vixen Tip
Dress to Impress
Whether you’re the dominator or the dominated, the appropriate garb, accessories, and toys can help you set the proper tone.
Vinyl or leather catsuits and dresses make for ideal dominatrix gear for women. It should fit you well, not too loose or too tight, or you’ll lose the desired effect. You should look sexy and inviting enough to arouse his desire and faux ire. Without his arousal, this whole exercise is moot.
Matching boots and fishnet hose are essential.
Masks, gloves, handcuffs, chokers, riding crops, cat-o’-nine-tails, bullwhips, oh my! Mix-and-match to create a complete look that is sure to turn your partner on.
Wherever you choose to shop for your goodies, make sure that on the big night you look the part. For this particular fantasy, Coco de Mer is the perfect high-end fantasy supply store. Trashy Lingerie is moderately priced. Feel free to Google sex shops in your local area. All such stores have back entrances, so don’t feel strange about visiting. Or visit any one of these shops online!
If executed correctly, the domination theme is a certified winner. With the perfect cocktail of pleasure and pain, the hits—and you—should keep on cumming!
Recap
Neither of you should exclusively be the dominant person in every area of your lives together.
Role-play involving dominant and submissive partners can, if properly executed, lead to extremely fulfilling and explosive sex.
Things like this can turn ugly very quickly unless you clearly define what is and isn’t allowed.
Talk dirty! Hurl agreed-upon epithets!
Can you clearly separate the marital bed where you make sweet, gentle love from the place where you smack each other around and call each other less-than-flattering names?
Wherever you choose to shop for your goodies, make sure that on the big night you look the part.
V-Log #1
So, Now You’re in Jail…
Not unlike other fantasies, a faultily implemented domination fantasy can have ugly repercussions. The dynamic with this particular fantasy is a tricky one, because it involves the abandonment of any power struggles. One of you chooses to be clearly submissive and the other, clearly dominant. There’s no fence straddling here. If you and your husband have power-struggle issues in your relationship, especially unaddressed and/or unresolved ones, the moment when those issues will rear their beastly heads is now.
So here the two of you are, role-playing. In fact, you’re reenacting the very scene from the Domination chapter. Cheap motel, cape, knee-high leather boots, black vinyl dress, the whole thing, all the way down to pretending he is married. There’s the slapping, the degradation. You’ve already been getting heated over the things he’s been saying. “Dirty slut!” “Fat, nasty whore!” And the one that really got to you as you were still reeling from being called fat… “Shut up, you stupid bitch, and suck my cock!” Stupid? He called you stupid? And with those words, he broke the fourth wall and what was supposed to be a fantasy suddenly began to feel, for you, very real.
As you can see, these words sound all cute, fun, and edgy when you’re reading them on the page and imagining your man saying them, but it can be a different story when they’re actually said as you’re being smacked around during an intense, experimental act of sexual role-playing.
That’s right, ladies. Saying you want to participate in a fantasy is one thing; actually going all the way and immersing yourself in that specific fantasy is another. A domination fantasy means one party having power over another—physically, sexually, emotionally, and mentally. If you’re the one who acts as the submissive partner in this scenario, that calls for letting yourself be overtaken in all ways. As noted in other chapters, this kind of fantasy should not be approached lightly. It has the potential to tap into really sensitive areas in relationships. You and your partner, depending on which of you will be the dominant force in the fantasy, may find yourselves saying things that you really mean, but haven’t otherwise broached. The things being said and done under the supposed cloak of indulging in a fantasy can get downright nasty vicious.
So you’re in the moment, as we noted, and your husband is the dominant one. He’s slapping and cursing and calling you everything except a child of God, including, as we already mentioned, the dreaded terms slut, fat, whore, and stupid bitch. He has even gone on to throw in a few choice words about your mother. Things you’ve suspected deep in your heart that he really felt about her, but dared not say aloud partially out of deference to her and partially from fear of repercussions from you. But now—well, now the gloves are off and he’s saying all manner of things about your dear mother. He’s casting even more despicable aspersions at you, her hell-bred spawn (his words, not mine). All that aspersion casting has him majorly aroused, harder than string theory, but you’re not turned on in the slightest anymore. When the night first began, you were into things, but then, as he became more aggressive and derogatory, you began to grow uncomfortable. You even used your safe word, and—silly forgetful man—he totally failed to recognize it and kept on going. Now you’re long past the I’m uncomfortable stage and find yourself full-on seething. Him smacking you around isn’t helping. In fact, nothing about this moment is feeling the way that you imagined it would.
And then, he is suddenly choking you. Hard. He has his two big strong hands encircled tightly around your neck to the point that they’re cutting off your ability to breathe. You thrash and sputter as your face runs the gamut of the rainbow, but he is so caught up in this moment of permitted sexual domination that he is oblivious to your genuine plight. Remember, this is still a fantasy for him, and he is all in it, sexually intoxicated, drunk with power. So his hands clench tighter. You can’t even utter your safe word again because, well, you can barely even breathe! His hands—the same hands that lovingly hold you at night, cradle your babies when they wake up crying, mow the lawn, finger paint with his daughters, and help him earn a living to take care of you and your family—are now strangling you as he simultaneously pumps, thrusts, and denigrates you and your mother. It’s hard for any woman to not become furious in a moment like this, and you are beyond furious.
He finally notices, releases your neck, but is unaware of the gravity of the moment and slaps you one more time for good measure. That last slap—that’s the one that finally ends the game. You shove him off you, the fantasy over. Your vinyl outfit squeaks as you rush toward the bathroom in a coughing fit, clamoring for a glass of water to help you catch your breath. You’re livid beyond words. He stands there with a rock-hard penis, thinking you’re still in character, but you’re not. This fantasy is done. With outrage and unwavering intent, you walk over to the phone in your seedy motel room, and without even thinking you call the police. This fool just tried to kill you. He talked about your mother like she was a dog, he talked about you in ways you never even knew were possible, he called you fat, he beat your ass way beyond what you feel are the boundaries of sexual role-playing, and then he almost strangled you to death!
Or did he? This is the love of your life. Perhaps you’re being a bit irrational because you’re so caught up in your rage.
Who cares? You’re calling the cops!
Your husband tries to explain himself, but you don’t want to hear it. He obviously has deep-seated issues going on that have unexpectedly been set free. What was supposed to be a loving journey to the land of intimate adventure suddenly took a right turn and landed you smack dab in questionable territory, and you’re not happy about it. Not one bit.
Cut to: Ten minutes later, the police show up, and there you are in a black vinyl suit with a cutaway crotch—a cutaway crotch that you’ve forgotten all about, thus giving the police officers a nice eyeful of your peeper—black high-heeled boots, and gloves up to your elbows. A cat-o’-nine-tails is on the floor. He never got to use it on you because he was too busy choking you out. The cops can tell that something really heavy went down, but they can’t get the details clearly because you’re too busy screaming, “Get this motherfucker out of here NOW! He tried to kill me! Look at the marks around my neck!”
Amid your beloved hubby’s cries of panic and pleas for you to explain what was really taking place, the police restrain him. Meanwhile, a second set of officers arrives to assess the situation.
You’ve got a black eye, handprints across your face, thighs, arms, and, of course, your neck. You’re a mosaic of bruises, a real punched-out Picasso. It is not pretty, not one bit. The first cops put your husband’s big, strong, strapping hands in handcuffs, escort him from the motel room, and whisk him off to county jail. Why? Because assault is assault, and this definitely looks like domestic abuse, albeit a freaky example, so it’s Book ’em, Danno! Kiss your man good-bye for the night. Of course, you want his ass to spend a night in jail. It will teach him the lesson of a lifetime.
But what’s this? The second set of police is taking you to the hospital. “Wait, no, that’s not necess… oh, it’s procedure? And they have to take pictures?” Riiiiiiiiight. So now you’ve got to deal with that. Here come a million questions, Polaroids of your black eye, handprinted throat, and black-and-blue body. Plus, there’ll be questions about the state of your marriage, the safety of your children, a possible history of domestic abuse in your marriage. Then you can look forward to counselors and a handful of pamphlets—all because you and your husband wanted to add a little adventure to your relationship.
Not exactly what you pictured when you decided to do this, eh? That’s because you didn’t follow my instructions! Know your boundaries and limitations. Use and acknowledge safe words. Discuss, at length, just exactly what the word domination will entail. This is not the kind of thing you want to figure out after the fact.
A good fantasy shouldn’t have to involve a night in jail and a visit to the hospital. That’s how rumors get started. All you need is for someone you barely know to see you in the emergency room of a local hospital wearing a crotchless, black vinyl catsuit and knee-high boots, plus a black eye and a fingerprint necklace. That’s a pretty decent setup. The acquaintance and the rumor mill will take it from there. Who knows how the story will spin before it makes its way around to you again? But you can trust that it won’t be pretty and it will definitely be far-fetched.
Chapter Two
The One-Man Gangbang
Fantasy
I knew there’d be more than one, but there was no way I could be prepared for what was going to happen. So I closed my eyes and waited. I was helpless, lying naked on my stomach with several pillows propped under my pelvis, my sex exposed and vulnerable. I can’t lie: I was very nervous. The idea of the looming inevitable—dick after dick pounding my pussy, me drowning in an ocean of creampies—crowded my mind. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to push the image away, lest I become paralyzed with panic from too much thought.
Surely, though, my mind whispered, it would be an onslaught of dicks. It was the stuff of dreams, something every woman has imagined at least once. To be sated limp, pounded silly, a guilt-free gangbang with no consequences. I was scared, apprehensive, but at the same time I couldn’t wait. I was already hot, growing wet with anticipation.
“Fuck the fear,” I said aloud to the empty room.
Bring on the dicks!
I couldn’t see who was first, but in short order he was on me, mounting my backside with bravado and intent. His cock was warm and solid as it slid into my wet canal. The girth took me by surprise, exciting me even more. He wasted no time getting down to business, pulling my hips back against him as he plunged farther inside. He was fully cocked, ramming me with long, hard strokes as he went deeper than I had ever experienced.
He pounded harder still, pressing my face against the bed, pinning my wrists with his own. I screamed in pain as his pelvis rammed mercilessly against my swollen lips, exhilarated by the agony of his vicious dick.
And then the dam broke, as waves of throbs unleashed from deep within me and I found myself cumming and cumming, in unstoppable squirts, thoroughly soaking his cock and balls.
He responded in kind with a deep and satisfying groan, convulsing against me as he filled my throbbing pussy with his thick white jizz. He emptied what felt like a tsunami of cum, and then thrust one last time, as if making sure he’d drained himself completely. He pulled out without ceremony. His rapid exit caused my hole to make a suctioning sound that both surprised and embarrassed me. I glanced back apologetically, but he was already gone, his warm essence oozing out of my bruised pussy like primordial goo, past my engorged clit, onto the sheets.
Before I could adjust myself, a different shaft—long, curved, and slender—slid effortlessly inside me. He pulled me back to the edge of the bed as he hunched primitively over my tiny frame, pounding my pussy with a sidewinding motion to maximize the sickle shape of his member. His curved dick found my G-spot in record time, four pumps in, as I began to buckle and shake from the intensity of what was a powerful, instant orgasm. He kept pounding, spurred on by my tremors, this time with downward strokes, as his shaft hit nerves within my walls I didn’t even know existed. My body had never felt pleasure like this as I came again and again, each spasm more racking than the last. My body was overwhelmed, and my right side grew numb. This second man pulled out, his wet shaft thumping against my back. Just as I began to catch my breath, he plunged in anew, thrusting over and over, in and out. My body synced with his rhythm so perfectly that I began to go absolutely wild.
“More! More! Keep fucking me more!”
And he did, happily, obligingly, grinding against me in a corkscrew motion, going deeper and deeper, sparking more undiscovered nerves along the way.
“I’m cumming!” I screamed. “I can’t stop! Don’t stop!”
I pressed my backside deeper onto his cock, trying to swallow it whole and him along with it. I could barely breathe as my pussy drenched him with every throb within my walls. My chest felt constricted, my lungs tight, my head swimming. It was too much. If I kept cumming like this without pause, I was going to faint.
“Cum for me, baby,” I begged. “I need you to cum.”
I reached back, far beneath me for his balls, massaging them with gentle aggression. He came with a roar as his load spewed, hot and plentiful, mixing with the juices already basting inside me. His nectar was thinner and wetter than the last, running out of me like a spilled glass of milk. He had barely pulled out before another turgid cock barged in. I looked back, alarmed at the speed at which this was all taking place. A large, strong hand gently pressed my face toward the wall.
“Don’t watch,” he said softly. “Just feel.”
I obeyed, my breath still coming quickly, bracing myself for the next round of violent thrusts.
But this man was different.
Though he’d entered me with force, once inside my cum-soaked cunt he was gentle and romantic. He took his time with slow, shallow strokes while caressing my lower back and massaging my tight round bottom. He leaned against my ear, whispering sweet words with each thrust.
“Your pussy is so wet,” he cooed.
Well, yes, my pussy was wet. Very wet. I was holding the cum of two men inside me plus my uncounted squirts.
Just the thought of him back there, balls-deep in the juices of two others, turned me on even more. I raised my hips higher, grinding against his slow-stirring dick.
“Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “You like that? You like that dick?”
I liked that dick.
“Mmm-hmmm,” I moaned, grinding harder.
“Keep doing that,” he said, “and you’re gonna make me cum.”
I kept doing it. He began to groan.
“You’re trying to make me cum,” he said. “Slow down.”
I kept grinding.
“Wait… wait…,” he pleaded. “Slow down. I’m not ready yet.”
I didn’t.
I could feel the swelling build in his cock. I began to grind harder, faster and faster.
Just as I could feel that he was about to blow, he removed his wet rod from my pussy and brought it around to my face, plunging it deep into my mouth. As I hungrily sucked the cum of two other men off his cock, he came on my tongue in soft, gentle spurts while gripping my shoulders, eyes closed, head thrown back, moaning in pleasure.
“Mmmmmm.” I smiled, gulping him down.
He smiled in return as he pulled out of my mouth.
“Thank you,” he said, bending down and kissing me on the forehead. “That was nice. Very nice.”
Just as I was marveling at his politeness, the soft warmth of a man’s mouth sucking at my love hole distracted me. I looked down to see a fourth man between my legs, savoring the remaining cum of his bang partners. His hot tongue darted in and out, lapping up all the cream he could find. I watched in amazement, having never experienced anything this deviant before. This man had no shame, no boundaries. He wanted that cum, dove in for it like it was gold, and was getting me hot all over again in the process. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he spread my legs wider, pushing his face deeper into my beaten labia, plunging his tongue into me like a sword.
My cunt was throbbing anew, and, as good as his tongue felt, I needed more. I had to have more.
“Fuck me,” I demanded. “Fuck me now.”
He emerged from between my legs and climbed into the bed, lying on his back. He pulled me on top of him. I eagerly slid onto his rock-hard dick.
“Mmmmmm,” I moaned as I sank down to the base. “That’s better.”
I gripped his chest and began slow, gyrating my hips with a burning hunger. He felt so good inside me. I couldn’t take it. My gyrating increased, faster, faster, and I began riding him hard, desperate to cum again. I sensed another presence looming behind me. A hand pressed me forward onto the chest of the man beneath me. A finger probed at my anus in brief introduction, quickly followed by the massive cock of a fifth man shoved into my ass. He thrust in deep, all the way to his balls.
“Owwwwww!” I cried in excruciating pleasure.
I came immediately, savagely, completely blown away by the sensation of being double-penetrated and beast-fucked by two men at once. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever felt in my life, so wonderfully degrading, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to experience it again. I felt like an animal, lower than a dog. I loved it and despised myself at the same time.
Both men kept going as I writhed between them, two distinct strokes beating my body into oblivion—one was shallow and quick, the other slow and deep—both working together. I eagerly responded to each thrust, front and back, until the three of us, moving in unison, became one big fuck monster… a double-breasted, four-balled, six-legged beast on the verge of what was going to be the biggest orgasm the world had ever seen.
I opened my mouth to scream. It was immediately filled with cock number six.
Whoever he was, he must have been watching for a while, because the moment his rigid cock was cradled in my moist mouth he blasted, his hot load cascading against the back of my throat. My body was in sensory overload as the other men simultaneously erupted inside me.
The nerves in my ass and pussy exploded in a nuclear thunderclap of pleasure that raced through my body. I couldn’t stop shaking. Every wire within me was crossed and confused, but vibrantly alive.
It was too much to process. I began to cry.
Cum and cry.
Even as the men pulled out of my ravaged pussy, ass, and mouth, I was still cumming, balled up and crying, completely overwhelmed by the uncontrollable bolts of lightning raging through my loins.
The men abandoned me without even a good-bye as I lay there, exhausted, sweating, my eyes closed, cum draining from every hole.
“You all right, baby?” a voice softly asked.
I nodded weakly, opening my eyes. He was fuzzy through the veil of tears clouding my sight, but he was there. My husband, sweaty and spent—lying at the foot of our bed among a heap of toys that included my favorite strap-on, vibrators, and an assortment of dildos—as soaked with my cum as I was with his.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Magnificent,” I said breathlessly. “How do you feel?”
“Like I did my job.”
“Times six.” I smiled.
“Very good. Then my work here is done.”
He climbed up toward me, pulling me into his arms, the two of us bound together in life and mutual stickiness.
I was never more in love with him than I was in that moment.
He was more than just the man of my dreams.
He was all of them.
Reality
I can already hear the wheels turning in your head as you think, Vixen, how in the hell are my husband and I supposed to simulate a gangbang! That’s impossible! Well, let me stop you right there. In the world of fantasy, nothing is impossible. As long as you both believe, anything is a go.
All that any relationship needs to pull off any fantasy is a little imagination and a reasonable amount of effort. if you’re creative and have a willing body and partner, making this fantasy a reality in your marital bed is just a few steps away!
Vixen Tip
Research! Research! Research!
Everyone has their way of going about things—tried-and-true moves that have worked for them since college. And even though your man’s signature strokes may have wowed the ladies over the years and were smooth enough to permanently win you, this gangbang thing is a whole new ball game.
Your man has to become more than one man—preferably, at least three—for the two of you to fully experience this fantasy. That means he’s going to have to do some research on how to assume the sexual personas of other men, men unlike himself, so he can bring this scenario to life. Maybe you’re lucky enough to have a guy with a talent for taking on different personalities. If so, you’re almost ready to go! For most men, however, some homework will be necessary.
But my man isn’t too keen on research, you say. He’s already got a lot on his plate. Fear not. He’ll love this kind of research. It’s everybody’s favorite: porn, porn, and more porn!
I bet he’ll make room on his plate for that!
For you, the woman, this fantasy is easy. Your only job is to lie there, ready to get served. For your guy, this exercise is going to take quite a bit of stamina and dedication. He may need to eat his Wheaties for the week leading up to things, pop some extra vitamins, or maybe get a B12 shot. Of course, if necessary, he can also take advantage of one of the many quasi-pharmaceutical assists constantly being offered on television. And if that’s what it’s going to take, I can only recommend your husband obtain a prescription from his doctor and not pick up a pack of those nondescript pills placed between the lighters and the incense at the corner market. Just make sure your man is prepared… and while you’re at it, you’d better fasten your seat belt as well. It’s definitely going to be a bumpy night!
Since this will be such an intense and potentially exhausting experience, the two of you may want to begin with the Starter Gangbang Kit: three sexual personalities. Once your man becomes comfortable with three, he can always work in more personalities, as many as he feels he can seamlessly switch into.
Vixen Tip
No Matter the Number, Diversity Is Key
Make sure each member of your gangbang is different. Some examples:
Soft and sweet.
Rough and indifferent.
Fast and eager.
Young and inexperienced.
Extremely experienced and eager to teach.
Now that the hard part is out of the way for your man, here’s where your imagination comes into play. For you, the key to pretending there’s more than one man in the room is to allow yourself to be dominated and absolutely helpless. In my opinion, doggy-style is best suited for this. It makes an excellent position of vulnerability and unimpeded entry. Oh, and feel free to close your eyes. Or wear a blindfold, if that helps your imagination even more. Above all, it’s important that your man actually dismounts and remounts each time he switches identities. This allows him to come back with a whole new stroke and disposition, while creating the effect of being a new person entering the scenario and you!
Want the thrill of double penetration? Implement toys and gadgets to enhance the experience. Doing so also gives your husband the ability to extend the moment so that he isn’t relying on just his own penis to do the job. Penises can only do so much, and they do tend to get very excited during a scenario like this. It can be an incredible amount of pressure to maintain control while pretending to be at least three men. You, definitely, don’t want him to cum too quickly and have the party end before the second man even has a chance to show up. By using vibrators, dildos, and other available gadgets, your guy can provide multiple simultaneous penetrations, giving you the illusion that many men are besetting you.
And for those lucky ones whose mates are capable of having more than one orgasm in a short window of time—ladies, you are going to be in gangbang heaven!
Recap
All that any relationship needs to pull off any fantasy is a little imagination and a reasonable amount of effort.
For your guy, this exercise is going to take quite a bit of stamina and dedication.
Allow yourself to be dominated and absolutely helpless.
It’s important that your man actually dismounts and remounts each time he switches identities.
Implement toys and gadgets to enhance the experience.
V-Log #2
Hey, Where’re All Your Friends?
So your man just ravaged you with the smackdown of all smackdowns. You’ve had more orgasms tonight than you usually have in a year! Dear husband employed all manner of toys, plugs, teases, and touches, filling every welcoming hole in your body to create an evening rich with electric explosion after electric explosion after electric explosion. It was the most incredible thing you ever experienced and now, um… you’d like to have it again. Actually, you’d like this every night, because anything after this is, well—not this.
That’s the über-tricky tightrope you walk by trying this fantasy. You are being pleasured in a lot of places, simultaneously, and the resulting sensations are so spectacular, so mind-blowingly delicious, your whole universe shifts. Now that you know he can transform into a sleek, many-armed, multiple-orifice-plugging, orgasm-slinging machine, you want it like this all the time. If conventional missionary sex is considered a gateway drug, the One-Man Gangbang could very well be considered crack. And now that you’ve had a taste of it, you’ve got it bad. You’re hardcore strung out and good ol’ straight one-pole-in-one-hole sex just isn’t going to cut it for you anymore.
It is very much akin to Cinderella being swept up from her ragtag existence, taken on an extravagant whirl with the prince, shown the time of her life—then watching her carriage turn back into a friggin’ pumpkin. In this case, sadly, your husband in his normal state is that pumpkin. You were fine with him before this fantasy, but now that you’ve been exposed to more, he’s a bore unless he brings along all his accoutrements. Vibrators, plugs, gewgaws, doodads, and assorted kinky tchotchkes, all in the name of keeping the peace and keeping you happy.
Oh my! What a dilemma we have on our hands. Actually, the dilemma is your husband’s, because now that he has opened your sexual Pandora’s box he’s going to have to deliver on a regular basis or figure out a way to talk you down off that gimme-more ledge. Ten-to-one he is going for the latter. What man with a reasonably full and busy life can be expected to play octopussy with his wife all the time—unless, of course, he loves the idea of such a thing? If that’s the case, then move along, folks. There’s nothing here to see. You two have tapped into something that truly works for you and there’s peace in the valley.
But that’s not what we’re discussing right now. This V-Log is about what happens when keeping it fantasy gets horribly real, and a man who’s not in perfect shape—as well as on Viagra, Cialis, Levitra, ExtenZe, Enzyte, or using a penis pump and a kickstand—is going to have a helluva time keeping this kind of thing going. It is important that we remember exactly what a fantasy is. Merriam-Webster, in one of its definitions, describes it as the power or process of creating especially unrealistic or improbable mental images in response to psychological need. That’s exactly what’s happening when you and your husband act out the One-Man Gangbang. Via the use of multiple gadgets, he creates the unrealistic and improbable mental image of a group of men servicing you, instead of just one. His doing so meets your psychological need for adventure. The key words, however, in that Merriam-Webster definition are unrealistic and improbable. This is not the reality of your life. It is an escape. A fantasy is supposed to be a treat, like a decadent dessert that you allow yourself every once in a while, but don’t eat every day because it would be bad for your health. Any woman who demands that her husband One-Man Gangbang her every time they have sex is a selfish, inconsiderate bitch. Yeah, I said it. The OMG (the perfect acronym, because that’s exactly how it makes you feel) is that most decadent of treats. Day-to-day sex should be a give-and-take experience. The OMG is all about him servicing you. Do not demand that your husband do this every time you make love because then it becomes a job, and an exhausting one at that.
And let’s be honest, ladies… we all know how men’s penises react when we place extraordinary expectations upon them. Despite how hard they get and the way they pound us when they’re excited, penises are sensitive, fragile, independent entities prone to defying the intent of their owners. Your man may want to service you, but his peen may be downright disgusted with how demanding you’ve become. It may start to retreat on occasion. Eventually, it might stop rising altogether. Your husband will have no choice but to use all his gewgaws and tchotchkes to service you because his penis will have completely bailed. That would be horrible for all parties involved. Your man’s ego will suffer immensely. After all, you broke his dick. And with no dick and a sad hubby, you’ll be even less satisfied than you were before implementing the fantasy.
All this drama will open the door for legions of marital problems, with infidelity leading the pack. You’ll be so pissed at your man’s broken peen and so hungry for more OMG that you may start sneaking off with his doodads, gewgaws, plugs, and whatnot to service yourself! But since none of that can replace the feel of a real penis, you might find yourself starting to look outside the marriage for excitement, something you would have never thought yourself capable of doing. But hey, getting turned out by multiple faux cocks, then being faced with a broken one, can make a lot of women do things they never thought they would.
In the meantime, your poor, dear husband might start looking for outside validation… someone who can prove that his peen is not, in fact, broken, but just doesn’t like you. It doesn’t matter who she is. More than likely she will be some chick who is so beneath you on every level that you’ll be baffled by the attraction. Her looks and station in life are irrelevant. What is relevant is that she’ll make him feel like a man again, and we all know that a woman, any woman, who can make a man feel like a man can make that same man do whatever she wants, including leave you—especially if he isn’t feeling appreciated at home and especially if you broke his dick.
Imagine that ugly scenario: you out there hunting down gangbangs and him thrilled out of his mind because he’s found a woman who’s just grateful for missionary. Is that what you want? Hmmm? I didn’t think so.
So dial back on the pressure already. Give the deejay a break. Yes, the One-Man Gangbang is spectacular. It’s supposed to be. It’s a fantasy, dammit! The fact that it feels so amazing means your husband did it right. Give him credit for that. Just don’t demand that the OMG be put on the daily menu. Even the weekly menu might be too much. The fantasy OMG should be savored slowly, sweetly, wallowed in with sheer delight. Enjoy the moment. Stretch it out for as long as you can. Then hold off until the next time. Why? Because. If you demand regular OMGs from your husband, it will kill you and your marriage. Learn the meaning of moderation and, in turn, you will have a healthy appreciation for your husband when he shows up with his armload of toys. Return the favor with a fantasy that completely services him. There are plenty in this book to choose from. Make it a party. Make it fun. Then hold him close and tell him you love him because it is all about reciprocation, ladies. That’s what marriage is supposed to be.
Be a lady about all this and, for heaven’s sake, don’t break his dick.
Continues...
Excerpted from SatisFaction by Steffans, Karrine Copyright © 2011 by Steffans, Karrine. Excerpted by permission.
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