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The Hottie String

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During a simple conversation with his wife he was again explaining a difficult time he had caused with one of her dear friends. She understood and we all know how you can win someone over and clear up a lot of indiscretions. Well, all was going just fine when suddenly he was caught saying something she just couldn't let slide.

"You said what?" she stopped agreeing. He did notice that.

"You said that I was submissive? You told her that I was submissive?" He had said just too much but he couldn't take it back.

His wife continued: "You told her that YOU were dominant? Who do you think you are? Damn it! What the hell were you thinking? You shit!"

"Wait a minute! Where are you going with this?" he asked her.

"No you wait a minute! You had NO business telling her I was submissive!"

"But you are." He blurted in all his stupidity.

"Oh REALLY?" she said in an almost defiant and high-pitched sound.

"You know you're submissive." He simply opened his mouth and changed his feet.

"Let's see just how submissive I am. Go put your smallest G-string on. NOW!" she said and he knew she meant it.

"Wait a minute." He said trying to get back to where they were getting along just fine. What just happened? "What's goin' on? Why?" he didn't have a clue that what goes on between them was to never be shared.

"Did you hear me? She asked him with a raised sound. " Did I stutter? Perhaps you've gone deaf?" she enquired.

"I heard ya'. He said with a puzzled face. "What are you doin'?"

"What am I doin'?" she said. "#1. What are you doin" tellin' her I'm submissive? And #2 what the hell are you doin"' standing here?"

He stands still. He stares at her. She's pissed. It's clear. But she's always been submissive. He was only telling the truth. What's the big deal he wonders?

"All right I'll put on a G-string!" he gives in.

"Your smallest!" she demands.

"O.K. I will! I heard you!"

He leaves the room wondering. He's completely confused. Actually, she never asked him to don a G-string, ever. He takes off his clothes and finds his green G-string. It seems small to him. They're all small. O.K. Now what? Is she on the phone? The phone didn't ring.

He hears her say "O.K." as she hangs up. And he appears in front of her.

"Put your sandals on. Come out back." She directs him.

He does. But as he does she's not out back.

"Where is she?" He wonders out loud. "What was that? A car door? Is that a car? Holy shit! Who's here?"

He goes in and peaks out the blinds. Who the hell is here? Checks the front of the house. Nope, not here. Where is she? He goes to the garage and thinks he can peak out. Before he can open the door a crack and peak, the horn blows again. It startles him! As he opens the door the car horn blows, long!

Where is she? He wonders.

He peaks. She is sitting in her mustang convertible. Backed out of the garage but behind the house.

"What are you doin'?" he asks her as he thought he was putting this G-string on for her.

"Let's go! Get in!" she tells him impatiently.

He doesn't believe her. He smiles at her. She's not goin' anywhere. She's bluffing'!

"Get in." She repeats.

"No problem!" He says.

He knows her too well. He'll get in and she'll pull the car back into the garage. No way she'll go ANYWHERE with him dressed like this.

He opens the door. Daring her he sits on the passenger seat. Smug-like he closes the door and before he can reach the seatbelt as a further dare to her, she takes off fast and gets down the driveway all the way to the curb. He can't get out here; he's in front of God and everybody. He can't believe the boldness!

"What are you doin here? Back up!"

"You'd better buckle up!" She says.

"I don't believe this!" he comes back with quickly.

He stares at her. What is she doin'? He's virtually naked here! As she drives off and up the street he looks about the inside of the car to find a towel or something to cover himself up.

"You having a good time?" he asks.

She looks at him.

"I tell you what? You say one more word and I promise to pull over, take the keys and I'll walk home. What'll you do?"

She continues driving. He remains silent and it pleases her. She slows down as she stares straight ahead. What's she thinking? He wonders. She moves the car to the right lane and doesn't seem to be in any hurry. What's she going to do turn right and go back to the house? Instead a Pick-up truck slowly begins to overtake them on the left. She gasses it to stay up with the truck's windows. Her passenger has nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He looks up at the truck. No one is in the passenger seat. Thank God! He looks again, this time to see if the driver hasn't looked over.

"Oh shit!"

As he noticed the driver, a female, a young female with her mouth hanging open. He lost it.

"Did you say something?"

She dares him to speak again. He only shakes his head no.

Then she glances over to the truck. Grins at the driver and twinkles her fingers and looks back at the road. The pick-up driver probably in her Thirties is craning her neck to check out what she can't believe is in the passenger seat of this Mustang convertible! The driver of the pick-up then sees the woman driving the car reach over and grabs this little pouch of green in this guy's lap. She pulls out from him as much as she can and then snap she lets it go.

The guy doesn't look like a happy camper. The truck toots her horn as a positive gesture to the Mustang driver. The Mustang toots back and pulls away from the truck. As the truck follows now his wife puts her left turn signal on and pulls to a stop at the traffic signal. Now the pickup pulls over to the right side of the Mustang for a ringside seat.

His hands are hiding his lap from the view of the female truck driver.

"Lay your seat back. She tells him. Now!"

He dare not speak. What is goin' on? He wonders.

"Take your hands away." She orders him.

He quickly complies.

"Who's submissive now?" she asks.

Then she moves her hands over the hump of green and pets it in front of the trucker. Then she grabs the green pouch and gives it a couple moving wiggles to the delight of her next lane audience. The light changes and the Mustang is movin' again and the separated P.U. honks away. As he lies there he can't believe the car is going farther away from his house.

Where is she goin' He wonders. I'm naked here, for god sakes. But he won't dare ask and get stranded.

Within a minute or so she pulls the car to a stop. She gets out, and of course takes the keys. There is no way he wants to get out of the car here. Not here!

Two to three months ago the woman who lives here accused him of being perverted and went on and on with his intentions of "Showing himself" to her as he continued to paint her living room while naked.

He had thought it would be a hell of a "you wouldn't dare" type of a true story to tell his wife, although he didn't want her to know a thing about it until he had done it.

Well it backfired on him. The owner of the house not only didn't see the humor in it but also had asked him to wait until she had left. Running a quick errand for more paint she returned to find him naked and painting. Although this was the same woman who had countless times been nude in front of him at his hot tub she lost it here at her home.

Apparently she hadn't left but had only gone on an errand. Crushed as she was she made him get dressed and invited him to leave! Well he wouldn't just leave. He had said he would paint and he was going to paint. How horrible would it be now, now that his joke of painting naked at someone's home had backfired and he was simply sent home? A lot of help he'd turned out to be!

So here he was, not only back at her place having not talked since the incident, and once again virtually naked.

"I can't go in there," he said to himself.

His wife had pulled up to the back driveway entrance to her friend's home. It was right on a street not heavily traveled but then too not a ghost town either. She walked up to the gate opened it and proceed inside. Now he was alone. Out in someone else's neighborhood and nothing on but a tiny G-string. Oh god what was she doin to him?

The sun wasn't down it was broad daylight out. Anyone could see him if he got out of the car. He couldn't do it. Any second his wife would probably come out and take him home.

Oh shit he just remembered... This was the same woman he had told that his wife was submissive. Oh shit! He had claimed to be more dominant than either of them. Well who's the goat now? Oh, things couldn't be worse here.

Yes they could, here comes a car. Oh god two cars! What if he had gotten out just then?

Another car came through behind him within a minute and yet another. What was he going to do? He couldn't honk the horn. That would draw attention to him. That was the last thing he wanted. This was horrible! Another car this one was moving slow checking him out. But it did go past him.

There had to be a good ten minutes go by so slowly it felt like an hour.

Suddenly the gate swung open. There was his wife with a glass of frozen Margarita. He knew she loved those, so she was planning to stay while she drank this down.

"Comin' in?" She asks quietly.

"No. You know I can't go in there like this!" he explains, as if he needed to remind her.

"Sure you can." She says. "Come on."

"No I can't." He states emphatically.

"I'll bet you can." she insists.

Another car goes by.

"Look at that! I couldn't if I wanted to." He glances at the car going by.

"Oh sure you could." She assures him as though there were nothin to it but just doing it. "Look you either come in, or give me the g-string." She says leaning on his passenger door.

"WHAT!!!?" he says with a worried look.

"You hand over the G-string, or I pour this drink in your lap!"

"What? " he asks her as if she mumbled

"Give it to me. Now!" she says with conviction in her voice. "Come on! Let's have it!"

"Oh shit! Don't pour that drink!" he says with his palms in a surrendered movement. "Please! I'll come in. But the cars keep comin'!"

"I'll give you three seconds and this drink is in your lap," she promises.

He opens the door. Checks down the street both ways. And darts to the gate.

From here he walks into the back yard and the woman he offended months ago with his naked painter prank can see him right away. His wife had told her only that she had left something in the car.

"This is what you left in the car?" She pipes up. "Get the fuck out of here! You're not welcome here."

The wife speaks out quickly as she points to her friend. "Hey relax would ya? Take it easy! He's doin what I tell him to do, and you stay out of it!" Then she gives him a once over, turns her head to her friend and asks:

"Submissive? Is that how he described me?"

"Yes he did." Her friend didn't hesitate a moment.

"You feel like eating anything/ I know he can cook.

You thirsty?'

"I'm good." The friend says: "How's your water?" With that knowledge out in the open, his wife throws the contents of her drink disguised to look like a Margarita, into the pool. I think I'd like a drink now.

Apparently she wouldn't waste a good drink on his lap, or ruin her upholstery.

"Why don't you go make me a Margarita?" She tells him. "Everything's in the kitchen. And find a tray to serve with for god sakes."

He leaves to make the Margarita. Jeees the place still hasn't been finished being painted yet! He thinks to himself as he passes through the living room.

While out near the pool...

"I can't believe he's got the balls to even come over here!" her friend says aloud.

"He doesn't. He had nothin' to say about it," the wife explains.

"Submissive am I?" she comes back with so fast (with a bit of shock in her voice).

"That's what he said. I couldn't believe what he was saying." The friend says. "And, that he was more dominant than me too!" Can you believe that?" she continues. "Ass hole!"

"He said that??" the wife asks. "I'm mean really now?"

"As God is my witness!" says the friend. "Prick!"

"Well how would you like to feel as good as I do right now?" pipes up the wife with her palms facing upward.

They High-five each other as his wife takes the lounge chair next to her good friend.

"Has he ever apologized yet?" the wife asks.

"Nope." The friend says and then dismissingly says: "Well, unless you count that long-ass letter that I didn't read for a week or two!"

"Well he owes you one." Says the wife, "But listen, he's got a point. And I believe him." That letter was to both of us, remember?"

"What!!!" What point?" the friend says with an unforgiving sound to her voice.

"Hey! You know you used to have naked parties that you yourself took part in," the wife explains.

"That was different!" the friend shoots back.

"Just a minute!" The wife continues, "You trounced around the Islands naked with John. You told us! Tell me something. Did you do that, so that someone would see you? Why else? That's what you're accusing him of. Aren't you?"

"Wait a minute, says the friend, everyone was nak..." she can't finish as the wife interrupts.

"No one held a gun to your head. The wife reminds her friend. "You did it for the experience and it would be something you could look back on and grin about. SAME THING! You did it there because no one there would condemn you. Tell me, who's been at our hot tub, naked, more than anyone else, three times over. If he was going to joke about anything like this who could he do it with safely? It was a joke taken out of context, and you blew it out of proportion. You know the guy! For god sake he's always clowning!" Now she goes on:

"But you did ask him not to do it. So, with that in mind, I think he owes you an apology".

"I'm still pissed." Says the friend.

"Well you're wrong! There, now drop it," says the wife. I'm taking up this issue about being submissive!" she continues:

"And I think you should too." Says her friend. "This is bullshit! He gonna' pay for that one! Big time!"

He walks out with her Margarita upon a dinner plate.

"Don't you have any trays?" the wife asks her friend with doubt in her voice.

"There's trays on the top of the refrigerator!" the friend defends her place quickly.

"What are you blind?" the wife asks him.

"No. I just didn't want to snoop around her kitchen." He says quickly.

"You damn well better not think about..." the friend is interrupted before she can finish.

"Hey hey hey. You two need to talk." Says the wife.

The friend dismisses the thought" I don't have anything to say to him." " Well he's got something to say to you." The wife quips.

"I am sorry," he says not necessarily looking at anybody. "Sorry not to have respected your request not to undress. It's your home and I should have respected that. I'm sorry." He says that dutifully and sincerely, right to her face.

The homeowner just sits for a second. Then she says something at low breath

"Fuck it!"

The wife talks quickly before too much silence causes some more problems or explanations. "It's over. Understood and done. Now go get me a glass of blended ice, and get yourself a glass of wine, and get her a glass of wine."

He leaves to do as he was told. Once he's out of earshot his wife turns to her friend.

"I'm telling you true. You need to tell him that you might have over-reacted. It's your business, but as a friend I'm telling you the truth. Another thing, don't take your wine when he comes out."

"What?" says the friend with complete confusion?

"Just follow my lead!" says the wife.

"What?" asks the friend again.

"Do what I say! Shhhh!!" the wife explains at low breath.

In a short time he returns with the glass of chopped and blended ice and two glasses of wine.

He offers the wine to the host and gets jumped by his wife.

"What are you doing?" she wants to know. Hell, even her friend wants to know.

"Offering her wine." He explains.

"Get your ass over here!" demands his wife.

He walks over to where she reclines and stoops over to offer her her drink.

"Stand up straight! You look like a putz bent over like that!" his wife demands of him.

As he straightens up his eyes look straight ahead instead of down at her.

With his eyes directed elsewhere and the tray of fragile wine glasses blocking his view of his wife she aptly grabs his snug-fitting Green G-string and pours a healthy slug of her blended ice into his already packed pouch! Sudden freezing of his balls completely shocks him. He can't just throw the wine glasses they'll break. Especially not out here at the pool.

(GOD THAT'S COLD!!) "SHIT!!!!!!" he shouts.

The host is laughing hard in complete surprise.

"Take this Take this! Oh. God!! Please! Take this! He says not knowing what the hell to do.

"Don't give it to me. I don't want it." his wife dismisses him

"Shit!" he pleads.

His nuts are freezing now He's got to set this down! As fast as he can he squats to place the tray carefully on the pool deck without breaking anything. Then he jumps up and grabs his little green cup and yanks it down while he tries to warm his balls with his hands. That doesn't work. Too much Ice stays behind. He has to dust it off. There he is in front of two ladies whacking at his balls!

His wife can reach him easily from here as he busies himself with removal of the crushed ice clinging to his lap/ She quickly steps on his Green G-string that is stretched between his legs. As his feet are now caught up in his string she pushes him easily backwards and into the pool.

Now she has his Green G-string and holds it up to her friend.

"I told you he could cook. Got any hot dogs or anything?" she asks her friend.

"Sure." Says the friend

"Let's get him to light the fire." The wife directs.

"Charcoals are right there," points the homeowner.

"Out of the pool and light the fire!" the wife tells him.

"I can't." he demands.

"Why? Seems to me that you thought it'd be cute to paint like that here. What's the matter with cookin' like that here?" says the wife with her hands on her hips.

"Oh good one! I love it!" says the squatting friend as she picks up he wine from the grounded tray.

"Come on you guys!" he calls from the pool

"You come on! Get busy. Hop-to Hop-Sing!" says his wife.

"Is there a towel I can use?" he asks politely.

"NO!" They both say together! Laughing they again Hi-five each other.

He climbs out of the pool and his wife sings: ", WOW Shrinkage factor Shrinkage factor!"

"Ahhhh! HA!" Her friend screams with laughter!

"Start the fire. Hurry up!" says the wife

He goes over to the cooker and finds charcoal and lighter fluid. And successfully begins the slow process of charcoal grilling.

"I need a Margarita, and don't forget you've got a wine over here on the ground." Explains the wife.

He comes over and picks up his remaining wine, and sips a good gulp.

"Margarita?" She reminds him.

"I know, I know. Can I have my g-string?" he says thinking he needs to ask.

"No!" They both answer quickly.

"Hot little number though you got to admit." The wife says to her friend.

"Oh yea it's a hottie!" agrees her friend. And off he goes into the house to make his wife's Margarita.

As he comes out with her Margarita, he finds them both out of their chairs. They both have moved over to the Cooker. The friend has his g-string on the end of a skewer.

Without him knowing it his wife has doused it with Lighter fluid. And as the tiny familiar g-string passes too close to the fire it bursts into flame.

"Whoa that is a hottie!" says his wife

"Yea Baby!" agrees the friend.

"What are you doin'?" he demands of them.

"I'm burning your G-string." Says his wife sarcastically.

"What am I gonna' wear home?" he asks as if this will remind her of the desperate situation.

"Nothin' I'd guess!" he wife snaps back as if it were a foregone conclusion.

"Yea. You like to be naked don't ya?" says the friend.

"Shit."He says as he looks away.

The sun is starting to set and before long has been made to cook up the hot dogs.

"Shrinkage Factor! HA!" the friend repeats the wife's line once more just to get a giggle on.

Both girls are laughing so hard now that they are coughing.

"Well I hate to eat and run, but we've gotta to go sweetie." Says the wife to he friend.

"Well shoot I was having fun." Says the friend with a smile on her face staring at the hubby's ass.

"Well good that's why I came over. Says the wife. The further she brings down her eyebrows: "Tell me, have I cleared up any submissive rumors with you?"

"Oh yea!" says the friend.

"Good! That was important to me." States the wife with a serious look on her face.

After Hugs between the girls His wife leaves for the back gate. And a car goes by as she opens the gate.

"Jeeees! Any other cars comin'?" he asks of his wife.

"Nope not right now." She says as if she's disappointed.

"This is great!" says the friend.

"See ya girl! Thanks for the drinks and the dogs!" says the wife as she climbs into her drivers seat.

"Anytime!" says her friend. "Thanks for the laughs!"

"Shit!" he says almost to both of them.

"HA!" The girls are laughing again.

As he sits in the car another car is approaching from behind him. He slams the door.

"Can we go home via the back roads?" he wants to know.

"No." says his wife. "Sit up and put your belt on."

The wife calls out to her friend. "Bye now."

"You look sad, You O.K.?" she says to her hubby.

"Shit." He repeats himself.

"Hey! You asked for it. Mr. Dominant!"

About the Story: I couldn't find where to write this. This is a Female Dominant story. Thinking he knows his wife, he make a couple mistakes, and he pays for them, dearly.


Pages: 1

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