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BY POWERONE
Their husbands were rich and powerful in business, but they wanted more,
they wanted to control their wives. The men thought they were the ones
planning it, but the wives took it so much farther. It started off as a
simple book club, but it soon blossomed into something much different, “The
Suburban Wives Bondage Club”. Each time the men planned a night, the
women surprised them with something more daring or bizarre
The wives would do anything for their husbands, but who knew they would
enjoy it so much. The Stepford Wives had nothing on these women. Read of
the thoughts and desires of “The Suburban Wives Bondage Club". Can the men
gain the control they wanted or should they just enjoy all that the women
had to offer them?
EXCERPT
The winter was coming soon to Howell Corners, the tree’s ready to turn from green to all the colors in the rainbow. Snuggled in the hillside of Western Connecticut, it was only minutes from the tollway to New York City and the affluent section of Connecticut, but a world apart. A quaint town of four thousand, one hundred twenty-one people, it had all the charm of a small town, but the amenities of a large city.
Located in a rural area, it was also home to the corporate offices of Turlock Industries. Founded in Hartford, Connecticut in 1836, it started off as a manufacturer of firearms, but that had been sold off over the years and now the company was into high tech for the government. Privately held by the Turlock family and a limited group of financial partners, its product line was never disclosed to the general or business public, all the work top secret. It was run by Michael Turlock, Chairman of the Board and a fourth-generation Turlock. At forty-five, he was the youngest of the family, but he had the requisite skills and training that set him apart from the rest of the family. He had been successful at keeping the family in money and power.
The town still had the old main street of the past, but nearby was a shopping center that brought all the amenities to a populace that was affluent and educated. Snuggled into the southwest corner of Howell Corners was the gated community of Turlock Farms, home to all that could afford it and that worked for Turlock Industries. The house, if you could call it that, for it was the grand mansion of Michael Turlock, was the highest on the ridge. All the others spread around it, but lower down, a sign of the importance of Michael Turlock and a symbol of where the others stood before him. A cluster of only ten other homes made up Turlock Farms.
The town was run by an elected mayor and a city council, but Turlock Industries paid eighty percent of the taxes and Michael Turlock’s donations built and supported the Turlock High School, Turlock Library, Turlock Opera House and the Turlock Hospital. Nothing was done in the town without Michael Turlock’s approval or his money. It had been that way for over thirty years of family domination and nothing would change it.
Michael sat back on the couch, gazing out the large windows at the houses below. He heard her footsteps, the sound of her heels clicking on the Italian tile floors. It had been a little over a year since he married Kayla. He met her on the campus of UConn where he was speaking one weekday. She had asked an insightful question, Michael liked his women not only attractive but also intelligent. She was a twenty-year-old graduate student from California, but he didn’t hold that against her. After he answered her question, more to the point, the next four questions, he asked her to have coffee with him. She accepted without hesitation.
Though he was twice her age, they clicked from that day on. Michael wined her and dined her, including bedding her down. Three months later, she graduated and a month later, they were married. Though she had a Masters degree in English Literature, she didn’t get a job. Michael would not have his wife working. It was her place to take care of her husband. Michael had certain standards and that one was paramount, not only for him, but also for the ten other executives that lived in Turlock Farms. If you went to any of the ten houses, the wife would be home. That was her place. If you couldn’t abide by Michael’s standards, there was no place for you at Turlock Industries.
Kayla saw him sitting on the couch, his eyes on her as she walked in. She let her hips sway sexily, always wanting to please Michael. She handed him his drink and sat next to him.
“Thank you,” Michael staring at her body as she walked in and sat down. She had blonde hair. Five foot five, she was every bit a woman, the dress she was wearing clinging to her body like a second skin. Her breasts moved sensually, almost as if they were synchronized with her hips, Michael knowing that she wasn’t wearing a bra now that she was home alone with him. She didn’t need it, and he didn’t like it to get in the way when he wanted her breasts. The dress was short; leaving a lot of tanned legs showing, but it was her ass that interested him the most. Her three-inch heels made her legs look even leaner. She never failed to get a rise out of him, his cock erect as soon as he saw her. Michael enjoyed sex, more than most, but he took it slow with Kayla. She had much to be taught, but she was an eager student, wanting to please him as much as herself.
Kayla curled up to Michael, her hand on his hip, knowing the effect she was having on him, the front of his pants bulging out more from just the simple touch. Her dress rode high up on her legs, smiling as she saw the way Michael looked at her legs, imagining what he was thinking. He was dressed in brown khaki trousers that clung to his trim body, a pullover that hugged his chiseled chest. He might be forty-five, but his body didn’t look a day over thirty. His cock was every bit as hard and virile as a twenty-year-olds, but he had the skill and control that a twenty-year-old didn’t possess. Her fingers edged a little bit closer to his cock as she remembered the first time she had seen it, amazed by its size. It had to be every inch of ten inches, the girth big enough that her fingers would curl around it without touching each other and rock hard. “How was your day?” She always asked that question, his answers always vague, that was his way.
“Great, Joshua is working out well and fitting in.” Joshua was the new Chief Financial Officer. He had started six months ago, moving in the second house from Michael’s, signifying his importance. He was different than most of the others, from the Midwest, his wife, Molly a little mousy but nice. You needed a conservative person in the position of Chief Financial Officer; after all, it was his job to keep the company finances secure. “Did she join the book club?”
One of the things the wives had was a book club that met once a week. Kayla joined as soon as she found out about it, three others in it now, including Molly that joined a little over a month ago. They each had a week, taking turns to select a book for the club and all the members had to read it by the following week. All of them had ferocious appetites for novels, fiction and non-fiction, wanting to keep their minds sharp for their husbands. “Yes, Molly joined last month. It took a bit to draw her out, but she is coming around. Lindsay has been helping her out in the clothing department; Howell’s Corner’s completely different from the small Ohio town she came from. She’s a petite little thing, but beneath the baggy clothes she wore, she has a dynamite body. I suspect that her accountant husband and she aren’t very creative in the bedroom.” It had been a year since Michael and Kayla were married. Their sex was good and often, but Kayla had a sense that something was missing, but she would wait for her husband to guide her. She had tried oral sex with him once, but she couldn’t go through with it. Just the thought of getting a mouthful of thick cum made her arousal go away quickly without warning. Michael never pushed her, Kayla making up with a talented hand and a hot, tight pussy that would squeeze the cum out of him.
At the same time as the ladies book club, the men met at Michael’s house, in his clubhouse, or the Men’s Gentlemen Club as the girls called it. It was actually a private building outside the main house. It was built as an office, but Michael converted it more into a library, a place where men could go and sip a drink and smoke a cigar without the distraction of women. Unless they wanted the distraction, though they had not used it for that purpose yet. The day was coming, Michael ready to put his plan into action with the help of Kayla, though she didn’t even know of it.
“Joshua is a little staid, but we will change him. I think we should have a small dinner party next week.”
“I would love that,” Kayla enjoying meeting new people. “Who would you like to invite?”
“How about the girls in your book club and their husbands? I think that would be nice and intimate.” He saw the look on her face, she wanted more people. “Next time we will invite everyone. You can be the grand hostess.”
“Of course, Michael, whatever you want. It will be nice to get the Book Club and the Men’s Gentlemen Club all in one room,” she joked to him, the girls named the men’s club even though they wouldn’t. Her hand slid over his lap, blatantly this time, until she found his erection beneath her fingertips. “Are the girls making you excited?”
“Just one girl,” he kidded her back. “One with a skillful hand.” His hand slid over her shoulder until his fingers grazed down and found her breast. He wasn’t surprised that her nipples were already hard, Kayla an amorous girl, not needing much stimulation to get her ready for sex.
“Want to go to the bedroom?” She looked out the window to all the shining lights from the other houses.
“No, we’ll stay here.”
“Yes, Michael.” The hiss of his zipper going down broke the silence of the room. Kayla felt his fingers find her nipple, pinching it as it swelled in pleasure. Even when he squeezed too tight, she enjoyed it, knowing Michael did, his cock always flexing when he pinched her nipple hard. She opened up his belt and unsnapped his pants, pushing the pants aside. His cock jutted out his briefs. She grabbed the thick cock etched in his briefs, her fingers slowly sliding up and down the growing shaft, the head almost poking out the top of the briefs as it grew longer.
Michael made short work of the top of her dress, unbuttoning it with nimble fingers, Kayla helping him as he slipped it from her arms. He pushed it to her waist, her firm, young breasts heaving in excitement, big brown areolas with rock-hard nipples poking out erotically from the center, begging for the touch of his mouth or his fingers. His mouth found a hard nipple, just as her fingers slipped into his briefs, Michael’s cock jerking in pleasure when he felt Kayla’s soft, warm hand on his cock. He began to suck her nipple, his other hand finding her other, neglected nipple, the tip of his finger rubbing back and forth over it as it swelled in pleasure.
She had a hard time containing his cock when she touched it, slipping it out of his shorts, her fingers holding it tight to keep it from escaping her grasp. She arched her back and pushed her breast into his mouth as his teeth nibbled just beyond her nipple to trap it, his tongue going to work on the tip, her body shuddering as she felt the pleasure race through her body. She felt the ripples of pleasure in her breasts increase with each passing touch as the nipples grew to a firm hardness that almost ached. She wanted to please Michael, putting aside the tremors of pleasure in her body, concentrating on worshipping his cock with her hands. The more he sucked her nipples, the more his cock flexed in pleasure, her slim fingers gripping the shaft tightly as she slowly slid them up and down the thick shaft. She kept her fingers tight, moving up and down the shaft until she got to the swollen head of his cock. Her fingers explored the thick ridge, a sharp nail sliding beneath helmet to find the soft, sensitive skin, her sharp nail making his cock jerk in exquisite pleasure and pain. She knew that Michael enjoyed a bit of pain, especially when it was on his cock or his balls, the pain quickly turning to pleasure and making him harder.
Michael’s hands eased the dress from her body, as his hand slid down over the gentle curve of her tanned belly, finding the edge of the French-cut bikinis, his hand sliding in and moving down to the soft curls of her triangle. He gripped some of the silky tendrils of pubic hairs and pulled on them, gently at first until he heard her soft moan and her ass rose up slightly from the couch. He didn’t relent, yanking the hairs until they finally broke free, but not before his fingers were still clutching the torn hairs from her mound. She cried softly, but her fingers never strayed from his cock. Michael had decided that it was time to teach her all that she would need to know to truly please him.
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