I remember the first time I met Victor, Cole’s boss. I was bringing Cole something he’d left at home, and he introduced me. Victor was good-looking, tall, and pleasant, but just a guy.
We met a few more times when he had several executives and their wives over for dinner. The more times we met, the nicer he seemed, more interesting, and just a bit more touchy. Not objectionable, but I did notice it a bit.
It was a Wednesday when Victor called and invited me to lunch, Cole was out of town, and I had a quiet day at work, so I accepted. We met at a nicer place than I usually have lunch, and I enjoyed it.
We were about halfway through lunch when he changed the subject, “Jasmine, there’s something I want to share with you. Umm, I don’t know if you’ve noticed that I seem... more interesting to you. It’s been happening gradually.”
I looked at him and said, “Umm, actually..."
He interrupted, Yes, certain women, I can see or feel a dial in their minds. Not even most women, but certain women I’m interested in. I can gradually turn the dial, making them more interested in me. I’m telling you because I want you, and I want you to know it. It’s a lot like my friends who go deep-sea fishing. They hook a big tuna, and they enjoy the fight. The tuna is trying to escape, and when they finally submit, that’s when they realize it’s over, and the fight is over.
I’ve got you hooked, and I want the fight to be on at least somewhat even terms.”
I put my fork down and looked at him, staring, “I’m hooked? What does that mean? What happens, when?”
“Simply, we fuck. I become your lover, and Cole is our cuckold. Don’t worry about Cole; I’m controlling him too. By the time you submit, he will too. He’ll want to watch, and in the end, he'll be asking you to do it.
“I want you to fight it. The attraction you’re starting to feel will eventually lead you to want me to own you, sexually at least. You’ll offer yourself to me; ask me to fuck you. When you’re ready.”
I answered, “Like hell, I will!”
I remember him just smiling at me while he took my hand and kissed the palm. I wanted to stomp out, but I was uncomfortable making a scene at a nice restaurant. I just didn’t want to. We finished lunch with almost nothing said, the rest of the meal. As I left, I told him, “Well, I enjoyed the lunch part of it at least.”
When Cole got home, I had a speech rehearsed about what his boss said, demanding that he quit and that we sue for sexual harassment. In the end, I said nothing at all. Why, I didn’t understand.
From then on, I tried to be polite, just polite. I was trying to understand what he was really like. Why did he tell me that when he did? I was being standoffish, but I was also interested in who he was.
I was trying to understand how the man I’d met at lunch meshed with the man I met the rest of the time.
He was irritating me because I didn’t understand how two such different people could live in the same body. I was slowly getting obsessed with figuring it out.
When I couldn’t tolerate it any longer, I invited him to lunch and said, “Victor, I want to have lunch with you again. I just want to understand, um, how you get along with each other. Two different people in the same mind? I’m not submitting to you at all. It’s not going to happen. I just want to know you better.”
We ended up at the same place as before. And I asked him to explain.
He answered, “Why did I tell you what was happening? I likened it to Joel, who likes to go deep-sea fishing. He’s had tuna that didn’t fight when he hooked them. He didn’t feel any satisfaction when he brought them in. He bragged when he caught a smaller one that fought till the end.
“I want you to fight the attraction you’re feeling. I can tell you are fighting, just like I can tell Cole is fighting the submissive feelings he’s developing about seeing you fucked.
“It’s the fight that makes the victory so much more satisfying. I can almost taste the euphoria I’ll be feeling the first time my cock is penetrating your cunt.
Yes, Jasmine, your cunt; I’ll be fucking your cunt. Not your vagina or your pussy. Your cunt. You also have tits for me, not breasts. They’re tits.“
Okay, I guess now I understand. I wasn't happy with Victor at all. We ate lunch and had very little conversation from then on.
I went back to work, trying not to think about Victor at all. The problem I was having was that it was like not thinking about a pink elephant.
The next time Cole and I had dinner with Victor, Victor greeted me with, “How are you doing?” and a smile.
I blushed because I knew what the subtext was: are you still fighting?
One thing I’d noticed was that Cole had stopped talking about Victor with me. It seemed the name Victor made him uncomfortable.
Two weeks later, Victor invited me to lunch, but he picked me up from work instead of meeting there. As he parked, he reached over and kissed me. It was such a shock that I just accepted it without protest. At lunch, our conversation avoided the primary topic, his ongoing seduction of me.
When he opened my door when we left, he gave me a more passionate kiss that included touching my breasts, um, tits. Two shocks: how passionately he kissed me and how I’d accepted his terminology—that for him, they were my tits.
Shit, it was working. I was still fighting, but I could tell it wasn’t long before I'd quit.
The next week, I tried not to invite him to pick me up for lunch again but was about to fail when he called, inviting me to lunch. He was picking me up again. I wondered why. Or not, I didn’t wonder; I knew. How far was he going to go this time?
When he helped me into his car, there was no kiss, just a soft touch to my tits. Yes, damn it, my tits. When we got there, it was the same, except he was more assertive when he touched my tits. He held them and caressed them. I could feel the tingle in my pus—my cunt. God, I’d called it my cunt. Just like Victor did!
Before we finished lunch, I asked him, “How long, um, how long do I have to fight? And, um, Cole, is he still fighting? I need to know. Victor, please?”
I sat there waiting for an answer. I was hoping he’d say it was long enough, and that Cole had submitted too
I could feel my tits; my nipples were hard; and my cunt was wet. I was waiting for his answer.
“Um, Jasmine. We can bring it to a head,” He paused, then continued, “What Cole will need is for you to let him know you want to submit. That you want him to permit you to submit. What we’ll do is invite me to dinner. When we’re finishing dinner, you ask me to fuck you. You don’t ask Cole for permission; instead, tell him you’re going to cuckold him. Do you know what that means?” He paused, waiting for me to answer.
I kind of nodded, then added, “Um, kind of. It means you get to fuck me?”
He answered, "Yes, but more than that. Yes, it means I get to fuck you, but it means a lot more. You’re taking control of your sex life, and you can fuck me anytime you want. Any time I want.”
He continued looking seriously at me and said, “If you don’t ask him, if you tell him to say yes, he’ll agree. To anything, I think.
“At some level, it means you’ll be able to do it; fuck any man you want. If you want to push it that far. Um, Read about it online, not the stories but the articles.”
He stopped, and all the conversation died.
When we got in the car, he kissed me, and he possessed me with his hands on my tits. He was squeezing and pinching me, and I started moaning, “Yes, yes. More my tits, more.”
I could tell he was unbuttoning my top and unfastening my bra, and then he was kissing and sucking my tits. I was sitting in the parking lot with my tits exposed and my, um, soon-to-be lover playing with them.
I slipped my bra off and gave it to him as his first trophy and my first submission
At work, I could tell some women knew, but they said nothing. The men just looked harder at my tits than normal, still not commenting.
That night, I was insatiable and drove Cole to exhaustion.
I called Cole from work and told him I wanted him to invite Victor to dinner and asked if we could take him to the Delta King at Old Sacramento to reciprocate for the dinners he’d treated us to. He obviously didn't want to, but when he agreed, I called Victor and asked him to accept. We’d meet in the pilothouse for a drink before dinner.
I made reservations for us in a room with a nice view of the river. I was depending on Victor being right. He had turned me, and I hoped that he was right about Cole. Would Cole let me cuckold him? Would he be willing to watch too?
When I hung up after making the reservation, I sat there thinking. I'm actually going to do it. I'm going to tell Cole I want Victor to fuck me. I'm going to fuck Cole's boss.
I was able to check in after one, get the key, and put my things in the room. I was all ready to be fucked, and to cuck Cole. God, I was so excited, I needed Victor’s cock. I need Cole to watch.
While Cole and I were changing for dinner, he seemed tense. Like he was anticipating something he wasn’t sure he’d like. Did Cole know what was going to happen? Victor wouldn’t tell him. I didn’t tell him. So he couldn’t know. I think, maybe?
Cole helped me into the car, and I realized I was reacting strangely. The anticipation of finally being fucked by Vic was getting worse, and I tried to relax. The last few times Victor and I had been together, I thought I could feel the difference. The need for his kisses, his touches, and his cock was becoming unbearable.
Could Cole detect that? Was what Victor was doing to him making Cole more sensitive to me?
Actually, as I thought about it, I noticed the change a few weeks ago. It was about the time I realized I was going to submit and let Vic fuck me. I love Cole, but the need Vic had installed in me was overwhelming. I wondered if it was working as strongly on Cole.
We parked in the parking garage near the river, and after parking, I kissed Cole. I tried to express my love, and Cole more than reciprocated. Cole’s kisses are always wonderful. I know I’m going through with this; I just hope that Victor was as successful with Cole as he was with me.
God, Jasmine is about to fuck another man; she’s going to be letting another man put his dick in her pussy—cunt. Hell, forget that crap; it’s not Jasmine, it’s me. I’m going to cuckold Cole. I’m going to let Victor, Cole’s boss, take me.
Shit, be truthful in my mind; I’m going to tell Cole I’m going to be fucking your boss, right here on the Delta King. God, God, God. I can feel my tits getting ready for Victor and my pussy getting ready to welcome his cock. I’m ashamed of myself, but I don’t care; I just don’t care. I should have worn a pad to stop my cunt from dripping.
I squeezed Cole's hand hard as we stepped inside, and I guided him to the Pilot House dining area, where Victor was waiting. There was a bottle of wine and three glasses on the table, waiting for us. I walked up and impulsively kissed Victor. The kiss wasn’t just a peck; it was a full-blown kiss. The intensity actually startled me as I stepped back.