A Roll of the Dice Read online

Check.

  Okay, so that processed and computed.

  But he couldn’t make his wife his slave. He didn’t want to hit her with a riding crop or paddle. He didn’t want to make her kneel or serve him. That wasn’t him.

  Not to mention with his job, he didn’t have the brain cells available to devote to that most nights after getting home. Some Thursdays, it was all he could do to focus on how to process stat modifiers for his DnD character and figure out which damn die to roll.

  Eventually, he fell asleep. When he awoke late the next morning, Jenny was already out of bed. He smelled coffee brewing.

  Rolling over, he stared at the clock. It was nearly ten o’clock.

  Holy crap. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He needed to mow today and had wanted to do it before the heat of the day set in. At least it was a riding lawnmower.

  He used the bathroom and pulled on an old pair of running shorts and a T-shirt and stumbled his way out to the kitchen.

  Jenny stood there wearing one of his T-shirts and nothing else.

  His cock hardened immediately, and not just the morning chubby he’d had earlier returning, either.

  Full-on wood.

  Jenny turned and draped her arms around his neck, a sexy smile on her face. “Hiya. Sleep well?”

  He kissed her and kept kissing her. She reached for his shorts and shoved them down his hips while he lifted her onto the counter. Then she reached for his cock, guiding it between her legs before she wrapped them around him.

  He struggled to hold back, fucking her slow, bumping her clit at the bottom of every stroke. Then he had an idea and whispered in her ear. “Finger yourself, baby.”

  She let out a soft moan, but did it. He nibbled on her earlobe while she fingered herself, timing it just right so that when he felt her pussy contracting around his cock, he was thrusting hard and fast inside her before his climax exploded.

  Burying her head against his chest, she started laughing.

  “What?”

  She looked up at him, grinning. “One kitchen counter DNA’d. Check.”

  He laughed with her.

  * * * *

  After mowing and getting a shower, Mike decided to take the rest of the weekend off and relax. He grabbed his tablet and opened the Kindle app before going in search of Jenny.

  “So show me some of these books,” he said.

  She blushed, but pulled up a few of them. “I know some of them are ménages,” she said, “but I mean it. I don’t want anyone but you. Please don’t feel threatened.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. “I promise.”

  The nervous, tense tone of her voice told him how vulnerable she felt showing him the titles, much less talking about this.

  He’d be a shitty husband if he didn’t at least give it an honest try. Hell, between the sex last night and that morning, that was already a benefit he could get on board with.

  If she wasn’t asking him to beat her, or harm her, as Tony had specified, maybe he could figure out how to do enough of this to at least keep her happy.

  He owed it to her as her husband. And it wasn’t like the little bit he’d done so far was much of a hardship, either.

  He spent the rest of the day reading, not quite getting the attraction of a lot of the books. Yeah, some of them had pretty hot and explicit sex scenes, but as he started skimming through some of them, he couldn’t make the connection between what they’d witnessed at Tony’s and how to apply it in a real-world way to their own marriage.

  Most of the books included some element of impact play, even if only bare-handed, or over-the-knee, or with implements like canes and paddles that made him feel a little ill to contemplate using.

  One book had a knife play scene that he couldn’t even read all the way through before having to skip pages because he felt like he was going to throw up.

  It hit too close to home, triggered too many memories.

  If something made him feel that badly, he didn’t want any part of it.

  By Sunday evening, they’d made love four more times, a record for them since Mikey’s birth. As Mike lay in bed with Jenny and was drifting off to sleep, he knew he’d have to talk to his boss in the morning before they both got immersed in their jobs.

  I need to make sense of this before it drives me crazy.

  * * * *

  Jenny felt like she walked on air Monday morning as she headed in to work. Not even a nasty patient first thing on the phone could spoil her mood.

  Tina noticed. “You look like you had a good weekend,” she slyly said. “You and Mike enjoying the alone time?”

  Jenny thought the smile might break her face. “You could say that.” Yes, they’d had really hot sex. Not quite the level of domination she wanted from Mike, but she knew she had to be patient. She had to let him find his own way. She couldn’t force him there any more than he could force her to do something he wanted her do to.

  Well, he could force me if he’d just take the power I want him to have.

  Yikes. She wasn’t expecting the flood of moisture over that thought, which threatened to soak her panties. She quickly excused herself to the bathroom to clean up before she ended up with a wet spot on her scrubs.

  Maybe Mike will order me not to wear panties.

  Aaand back to the bathroom she dashed.

  She could only pray he took things to that level between them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Monday morning, Mike caught Tony and talked with him in the parking lot before work. “I’m lost. I think reading about this made it worse. I don’t know what she wants me to do. But there isn’t much I read in those books that resonates with me, I can tell you that.”

  “Then what do you want to do?” Tony asked him.

  “I don’t know, but I damn sure don’t want to hit my wife.”

  “Then don’t,” Tony simply said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the car.

  “But all those books she’s read, it’s got all that stuff in it. And then there’s you and—” He snapped his mouth shut before he could even think the rest of the sentence.

  Nothing he said at that point could do anything except alienate the man.

  Tony arched an eyebrow at him. When he next spoke, Michael had to lean in to hear Tony’s low, even tone. “I don’t hit my wife, Mike,” he said in a nearly dangerous tone that told Mike he’d almost crossed over an invisible line he knew should remain intact. “We discussed that. What my wife and I do between us is just that, between us. Before you pass any judgment on me or my relationship with her, you need to rein in whatever mental baggage it is you’re holding on to and open your mind. Nothing happens between Shay and myself that isn’t consensual. At any time, she can always safeword and whatever we’re doing stops right there. We told you that.”

  Michael jammed his hands into his pockets. “I can’t hit my wife,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to his feet. “I just can’t.”

  “Then let me pose this question to you. What is it you want to do? What turns your crank?”

  Michael couldn’t pull his focus from his sneakers. “What do you mean?” he mumbled.

  “What’s your fantasy? What did you read in those books that resonated with you?”

  He thought about one scene he’d read that had hardened him like granite.

  “That wasn’t a rhetorical question,” Tony said after a moment of silence.

  Michael finally pulled his focus from his feet and back to Tony. Glancing around again to make sure no one was nearby, he said, “There was this one thing I read. The guy made the woman get on her knees and give him a blow job. He grabbed her by the hair and held on. That’s not exactly kinky, I guess. But it was kind of hot.”

  A slow smile filled Tony’s face. “Oh, really? You don’t think it’s kinky? You know how many women won’t give blow jobs? There’s your starting point. She wants you to take control. So take control.”

  “What if she says no?”

  “She
doesn’t like doing that?”

  “No, she will, we just…” He shrugged. “Kind of got into a rut the past few years doing the same thing all the time.”

  “Then here’s what you do. You get home tonight, she’s there. Instead of saying anything to her, you walk in, grab a fistful of her hair, and kiss her, hard. I don’t mean a quick peck on the cheek. I mean you stand there, kissing her until you feel her starting to melt against you. Then you keep one hand in her hair and snap your fingers and point at the floor.”

  “Then what?”

  Tony’s eyebrow arched skyward. “Seriously? Do I need to draw you a diagram, or would you prefer hand puppets?”

  “You mean I just…” He swallowed hard.

  “Yeah. I mean you just make her give you a blow job. You don’t hesitate, you don’t act indecisive. You don’t say, ‘Oh, honey, now, if you really don’t want to, you don’t have to.’ You put her on her knees, put your cock in her mouth, and tell her what a good girl she is the whole time. You don’t be a dumbass, either. If she seriously refuses or fights you, obviously, you stop and talk it out. But you want a starting point, then there’s your starting point.”

  “Then what?”

  Tony’s eyes rolled skyward. “I don’t know. Whatever strikes you. Hell, keep your hand in her hair and take her to the bedroom and get her off. I don’t care what you do. What matters is that you and her both like what you’re doing. Sometimes, a submissive wants their Dominant to take control and not give them a choice. Sometimes, that’s hotter for them than any fantasy they could come up with.”

  “But you just said not to force her.”

  “Of course you don’t force her. You’re a smart man. I’m sure you can tell the difference between your wife halfheartedly pushing you away and her putting down her damn foot and telling you to knock it the fuck off. If you can’t tell that difference after twenty-five years of marriage, then dude, you need more advice than I’m qualified to give you.”

  Tony pushed away from the car and started to walk to the building, but he turned. “You have to start somewhere. Starting with something that turns your crank is the best way to figure out this journey. You’d be surprised how fast some people take to and grow into this lifestyle when they come to it scared out of their wits. I know people just like you who swore they’d never do fill-in-the-blank. And now, not only are they doing whatever that was, they’ve blown the doors off other hard limits they thought they had. Then there are some people who just play around a little, and that’s okay, too. Anything between the two extremes is fine, but you’ll never know what that comfort level will be for the two of you until you start somewhere. So start there. Neither one of you are getting any younger, you know.”

  Tony left him standing there by the car and headed to the building, his words ringing in Michael’s ears.

  No, we’re not getting any younger.

  He finally followed his boss into the data center.

  * * * *

  That afternoon, an unscheduled software patch by one of the departments caused a database failure that had Michael, Tony, and half their staff scrambling to correct. By the time he drove off the campus a little before seven that night, all thoughts of anything but his job had been driven right out of his head.

  Until he was sitting at a light on US 41 and his pre-work conversation with Tony slammed back into his brain.

  His fingers tightly gripped the steering wheel as his cock painfully hardened in his jeans.

  Yes, that scene he’d read about had stayed with him in his memory. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to get into spanking or any of that other stuff, but maybe he could step up in the bedroom and take the lead there.

  We really have been in a rut.

  The thought saddened him. When they’d been newlyweds, they’d done the funky monkey in nearly every position, in every room of their home, in nearly every position possible.

  He even remembered one time in college, a hot session in a laundry room where he’d fingered her, the risk of someone walking in and catching them making him so hard he’d barely been able to wait to get her back to her apartment and have her suck him off.

  Over the years, as time and energy became premium commodities, they’d settled into a fairly routine pattern. He’d get her off one way or another, and then, usually, he’d have intercourse with her to get his rocks off. Sometimes, she’d give him a blow job, or a hand job.

  Jeez, I’m a moron.

  No wonder those books had resonated so strongly with his wife. It wasn’t like he was doing anything to light her fire in the bedroom lately. On the rare occasion they’d gone out of town for the weekend, or Mikey had been away for the weekend at a friend’s house or on a trip, sometimes they’d gotten a little frisky in front of a movie on the couch.

  But still not exactly porn film permutations.

  Usually, they were so exhausted from their week they would cuddle and fall asleep in front of the TV.

  If he had to give their sex life a rating, he was sad to say it came closer to the G end of the scale than the XXX end.

  Still, he waffled back and forth all the way home. When Jenny got home from work, sometimes the last thing she even wanted to do was talk, much less have sex. She was usually stressed out by dealing with patients and insurance companies all day. Not to mention if she’d had to turn right around and head out to one of Mikey’s events, it had doubled or tripled her stress levels.

  She doesn’t have to do that anymore, at least.

  Her car was parked in the driveway when he pulled in thirty-six minutes after leaving work. Tonight would be fend-for-themselves scrounging of leftovers. She wouldn’t be cooking dinner.

  He sat in his car for a moment and stared at the front of the house, a war waging within him.

  What’s the worst that can happen?

  I could piss her right the fuck off and not get any sex for the immediate future.

  She could get mad at me.

  She might hate me.

  But as he sat and thought, he tried to turn that around.

  What’s the best that could happen?

  Well, the best that could happen was he might get himself laid, and might make his wife happy.

  Wasn’t that worth the risk?

  He grabbed his laptop case, locked the car, and headed inside. At first, he didn’t see her. The TV in the living room was on, but she wasn’t in there. He set his laptop case down on the couch and walked through to the kitchen. When he heard the sound of the dryer door closing, he realized she was out in the utility room.

  Before he could lose his nerve, he walked across the kitchen and opened the door to the utility room. Jenny let out a cry, then started laughing as she punched the button to start the dryer.

  “You startled me. I didn’t hear you drive up.”

  Without a word and with his hands shaking, he stepped into the room, grabbed her by the ponytail with one hand, slipped his other arm around her waist, and started kissing her. At first she tried to pull away, but then he remembered Tony’s advice and kept on kissing her, stepping forward until he had her backed against the washer.

  After a moment, he felt her arms drape around him as she let out a soft sigh and started kissing him back.

  I’ll be damned. He was right.

  Emboldened, and now with his cock hard and throbbing in his jeans, he pushed one thigh between her legs, rubbing it against the crotch of her shorts.

  A soft moan escaped her. She started humping her hips against him.

  Hoping he wasn’t about to irretrievably fuck up his marriage, he tightened his grip on her ponytail, let go of her with his other hand, and stepped back enough she had room.

  He pointed at the floor in front of him.

  * * * *

  At first, it’d startled her when Michael opened the utility room door. She knew he was due home any time, but she usually heard his car drive up.

  She damn sure wasn’t expecting it when he didn’t say anything as he g
rabbed her by the hair, pulled her against him, and started kissing her.

  For a brief second, she thought about pushing him away, but then again there was something different about him tonight.

  Something she wanted to see play out.

  And then it was like a stranger was kissing her, backing her up until she felt the cool enameled surface of the washer pressing into her ass as he gave her a kiss that she thought might just make her come right there.

  Going with it, she draped her arms around him, her heart speeding from a canter to a full-on gallop when he shoved his thigh between hers.

  Oookaaay then, mister. Game fucking on.

  She hoped he wasn’t just teasing her, because if he was, she was going to fucking kill him.

  There was no denying the way his cock hardened in his jeans as she rubbed herself against him. She was really getting into the kiss, too, when he backed up and pointed at the floor in front of him.

  Confusion tried to break through the seductive haze clouding her mind when he snapped his fingers.

  He still had hold of her hair, too, and was gently tugging her down.

  She sank to her knees in front of him, her pussy throbbing.

  Okay, he wants to play? I’ll show him how the game should be played.

  She started ripping his belt open, fighting with and finally winning over the button and zipper on his jeans, and getting them opened enough to fish his hard cock out from his briefs.

  And still he had hold of her hair. Only then he put his other hand on her head, too, and guided her face right to his cock.

  She reached up and grabbed it, looking up and locking eyes with him as she opened her lips and took just the tip of it between her lips.

  There was something deep, smoldering in his gaze, something she didn’t recognize. Something completely unfamiliar.

  Something she wanted to see more of.

  Without breaking eye contact with him, she slowly slid his hard cock deeper into her mouth, her tongue working at the head, swirling around the shaft as she did.

  Holy fuck, my panties are going to be soaked.