Strip Show For Him

I’d had an exciting day of being in charge, only for him to demand obedience & vulnerability in a strip show for him…

I closed the bedroom door behind me and headed over to the dressing table to start removing my jewellery. I was just home from such a fun afternoon, a demanding afternoon in some ways, but one which would give me reason to smile for a good time to come. The business meeting had gone exactly how I’d planned; the previous knowledge of my lunch date’s submissive qualities had definitely given me the upper hand. We’d both known it.

Smiling to myself as I placed my earrings on the counter, I let myself recall his first reaction upon seeing me again after so long. I’d dressed to kill – as much as a midweek vanilla-setting meet would allow. Tight-fitting tee to show off my generous bust and accentuate my narrow waist, skin-tight leather-look trousers clinging to the curve of my arse and hips, finished with seriously sexy high-heeled boots. His mouth had just about fallen on the floor, before a well-practised bluff found his voice. There’d been that delicious look on his face though, briefly; startled. Shaken, on the back foot and proceeding with extreme caution.

My fingers found the clasp on my necklace, unhooked it and I set it down beside the earrings. Tomorrow would be fun, hearing from him again by email. I wondered if he’d admit to any submissive thoughts and urges… or keep it all strictly business.

I was still inwardly purring over the day’s activities when I heard the bedroom door open then close softly behind me.

“Good day then?”

Turning round I saw my partner casually leaning against the wall, unsuccessfully trying to subdue an amused smile. He knows me so well.

“Yes, I think he liked the trousers,” I replied, attempting a nonchalant tone but sounding fairly smug instead.

“I bet he did. They’re very… distracting.”

In an instant as he crossed the short distance between us, I knew what he was going to do. Both hands on my waist, he pulled me round to face him properly, then gave me one of his incredibly intense, hunger-laden kisses. Thoughts of the day melted out of existence immediately, replaced by a chaotic swirl of emotion, hotness, the taste of him.

He must have known his kiss would bring me back entirely, and upon detaching from one another again I caught the familiar, demanding combination of hunger and lust dancing in his dark eyes.

“I thought you might need some help getting undressed.”

He moved away and went to make himself comfortable on the bed.

“But I’m sure you’ll be fine with a little supervision…”

“Mmm. You’re such a pervert,” I replied teasingly. “So you want a little private show?”

A subtle nod and a smile.

“Yes. Strip for me. Now.”

I let my smile be my agreement. I was already quite aroused, albeit in a different way, from watching my sub acquaintance squirm & blush all afternoon at my deliberately bossy tone, open discussion of kink and at my every movement in that tight outfit. The tight outfit I still had on right now. But, apparently, not for much longer.

Although my partner always inspired lust in me, it was still shocking how quickly he could make me feel like a vulnerable young girl, prey to his ‘old man’ persona, whenever he wanted. With a shock I realised a blush was spreading over my face at what he’d asked me – and I’d accepted – to do. It was the act of stripping for him; I was naked next to him every night, but putting on a strip show for him felt like something else entirely.

I decided to turn my back on him first of all, a convenient move to hide my deep red blush and avoid it worsening still at what would be, no doubt, an even more amused expression on his face. Damn him. Fuck, I was getting incredibly wet.

Bending at the waist I unzipped first one then the other heeled boot, giving a little wiggle of my arse in what I hoped looked seductive and not too silly. A couple of encouraging noises came from him behind; good. Using the dressing table for support I straightened then stepped out of one, and the other, and quickly shifted them to the side with a bare foot.

My heart was absolutely racing, and I could think of nothing but making sure he enjoyed the show. I hooked my fingers into my waist band… there was no more procrastinating, I had to turn and face him.

I didn’t dare look at him as I knew I’d bottle it – and I really didn’t want to let him down. In a strange – and definitely arousing – way, I was enjoying the predicament. Fixing my gaze anywhere but his face, I started to peel my skin-tight trousers down over my hips.

More moans of approval from him. I felt thankful I’d chosen an attractive black lace g-string, beneath which I was freshly shaven. The moisture gathering in the small piece of material between my legs threatened to dampen my inner thighs at any moment. My newly smooth vulva and labia being teased by the black lace, and by what I hoped was the seductive motion of my hips, certainly wasn’t helping.

Somewhat awkwardly I rolled the trousers down over my legs and eventually managed to discard them messily off to one side. T-shirt next; as I pulled it upwards to reveal my tummy, then my best cleavage-enhancing bra, I heard a definite “mmm, yes” from where he sat on the bed, watching. Then that was over my, by now, beacon-like face, and long hair, and cast on to the growing pile.

I wanted nothing more than to leap on to the bed and curl up in the safe haven of his arms, away from the upright, stretched out and closely watched vulnerability of this strip show. But I’d disappoint myself – and him – so summoned the courage to do what usually came so easily. Get naked for him.

Bra first. As I slipped my arms out from the straps and reached round to unhook it, movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. Again, I didn’t dare look directly in case it would put me off my stride. The realisation slammed into me; I didn’t need to look. He had his cock out and was now completely immersed in enjoying his private little strip show to the fullest.

Oh god. Oh god. Ok, I can do this.
The bra was unfastened with ease, as I’d done many times before. Using one hand to keep the material of the cups over my breasts, at least for the moment, I turned around again, spread my legs and bent at the waist to grab and ankle with my other hand. Giving him the view of my bare back, the shape of my body and my buttocks framed and separated merely by the black lace g-string.

I wondered if he could see the slippery wet patch which now completely soaked the small triangle over my pussy. Shockingly, I realised I hoped he could. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him deep inside me at that moment. Because of this. What he does to me. How he makes me feel. From smugly in charge to vulnerable and mewing to be used and abused within the space of a couple of minutes.

Turning back to him I could sense that his strokes were becoming faster and more urgent. He was less interested in giving me reassurances now, content that I was being a good girl and getting on with giving him a good show. I pushed my breasts together, still with the cups of the undone bra covering them, then moved it slowly down until my hard, tingling nipples were covered by my fingers instead. Then I let the bra drop to the floor.

Small sounds were coming from him which let me know he really was enjoying my strip, which boosted my confidence – and my lust. Moans, soft grunts, raw and hungry deeply gasped breaths as he hit the point when his pre-cum would be lubricating his fingers over his frenulum…

Another slow twirl for him and I revealed my breasts to him, holding them up and together, presenting myself for his enjoyment. By now I couldn’t wait to be rid of the saturated tiny G-string which was feeling like an immense barrier between his cock and my aching, needy pussy.

Slipping my fingers between the slender black elastic and my body, I started to move them downwards over my hips. Such a struggle not to rush it, in my lust-induced frenzy. I turned yet again to reveal the string being pulled down between my buttocks first, and as slowly as I could lowered both the g-string and the top half of my body to peel it down between my legs.

As I kept my legs together I could feel the slippery, sodden patch of material peel slickly away from my lips, and leave daubs of traitorous pussy juice at several places on its journey down. The sense of absolute exposure was both torturous and exquisite. Being anointed with my own physical need, in addition, was simply a cruel catalyst.

Grabbing one butt cheek in my fist once the g-string was safely away, I rolled the flesh there to give him a glimpse of my slicked, puffy opening. There was no mistaking the sexual delight he was taking in the view now; the soundtrack was pure pleasure.

Turning towards him, I finally dared glance up with a shy smile.

“Did I do ok?”

He reverted to stroking himself casually; I knew he could hold himself off for as long as he wanted – one of his many talents.

“Mmmh, yes. You did wonderfully. Good girl.

Now come over here. Time to give you your reward.”