Do You Still Want to be My Slave?
We were lying in bed cuddling and making out. Working up to having s*x when my wife gave me a deep, passionate kiss, pushed me away to arm’s length and looked at me intently.
“I know I told you I wasn’t interested in playing the kind of games that you keep bugging me for,” my wife said, “but, I’ve been thinking about what you’ve asked for and…”
“What I asked for, Emma?” I asked.
“You know,” she said, “those games about you being my servant, my slave, my uh…”
“What are you trying to say, Emma?” I asked.
“I’m asking if you are you still interested in playing the kind of games you told me about?”
“Uh…”
“What I’m asking is do you still want to be my slave, Adam?” she said.
That was a shot to my groin of 9.5 on the Richter scale. I wanted that so badly
