The villa door clicks shut behind us, and I'm still grinning like an idiot.
Emily's been in that white bikini since this morning, strutting through restaurants and beach bars like she owns the island. I watched every head turn as we walked past, men and women alike openly staring at my silver-haired goddess. She didn't seem to notice, or maybe she just didn't care. Her hand stayed locked in mine the entire time, a constant reminder that this stunning woman chose me.
The wine at dinner was incredible. Or maybe it was just my third glass talking. Either way, we're both pleasantly buzzed, stumbling through our villa with stupid smiles plastered across our faces.
"Bedroom," Emily announces, tugging me down the hallway by my wrist. "Now."
My heart kicks into overdrive as she pulls me through the doorway. The king-sized bed dominates the space, white sheets practically glowing in the moonlight streaming through the open balcony doors. Ocean breeze carries the scent of salt and tropical flowers into the room.
Emily releases my wrist and moves to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer. When she turns back around, my breath catches. Black ropes dangle from her fingers, thick and soft-looking, clearly expensive.
"Strip," she commands, her voice dropping to that honey-sweet purr that makes my knees weak. "Everything off."
I obey without thinking, fumbling with my shirt buttons. The alcohol makes my fingers clumsy, but I manage to get my clothes off, tossing them carelessly onto the nearby chair. By the time I'm naked, Emily's already approaching the bed, those ropes coiled in her hands like serpents.
"On your back," she says, gesturing to the mattress. "Arms up."
I climb onto the bed, positioning myself in the center as my cock begins to harden in anticipation. The sheets feel cool against my heated skin as I stretch my arms above my head, gripping the headboard slats.
Emily kneels beside me on the mattress, her bikini-clad body close enough that I can feel her warmth. She takes my left wrist first, wrapping the rope around it with practiced precision. The material is surprisingly soft, almost velvety against my skin.
"Wait," I say, watching her work. "How did you get any of this through customs?"
She glances at me, that wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips as she secures the rope to the headboard. "I didn't."
My brow furrows in confusion. "Then how..."
"I ordered it here," she explains, moving to my right wrist. "Had it shipped directly to the villa before we arrived."
"Ohhhh," I breathe out, suddenly understanding. "That makes way more sense."
The rope tightens around my right wrist, securing it firmly to the opposite side of the headboard. Emily moves down to my ankles, her fingers trailing along my calf in a way that makes my muscles twitch. She wraps each leg with the same careful precision, binding them to the bedposts until I'm completely spread-eagle on the mattress.
I test the restraints experimentally, feeling the give in the ropes. They're tight enough to hold me but not cutting off circulation. Professional work.
"There," Emily says, admiring her handiwork. She climbs onto the bed, straddling my hips carefully. Her weight settles against me, the fabric of her bikini bottoms creating delicious friction against my hardening cock.
She leans forward, bringing her face close to mine until our foreheads touch. The intimate gesture makes my breath catch. Her blue eyes fill my entire field of vision, serious and focused in a way that cuts through the pleasant wine buzz.
"Listen," she says, her voice soft but commanding. "This is important, Danny."
I nod slightly, not wanting to break the connection between us.
"If you feel uncomfortable at all, in any way, the safe word is popcorn chicken."
A laugh almost escapes me at the absurdity of it, but the intensity in her eyes keeps me serious. "Alright," I say.
Emily pulls back just enough to study my face, her expression stern. "Danny, I need you to say it back to me. It's important you know it."
"Popcorn chicken," I repeat, the words feeling ridiculous on my tongue despite the gravity of the moment.
She searches my eyes for another heartbeat, then nods, satisfied. "Good boy."
Her fingers trail down my chest, featherlight touches that make my skin prickle with anticipation. She reaches behind her head, and I hear fabric rustling. When her hands come back into view, she's holding what looks like a black silk scarf.
"Close your eyes," she whispers.
I obey, and darkness descends as the soft material wraps around my head, covering my eyes completely. Emily ties it securely at the back, her fingers brushing through my hair in a way that sends shivers down my spine. The world disappears, leaving only sensation and sound.
Her lips find mine, soft and warm. The kiss is slow, exploratory, like she's tasting wine. Her tongue slides against mine as her hands brace on either side of my head. I try to lean up into the kiss, but the ropes hold me in place. The helplessness sends a thrill straight to my cock.
When she pulls away, I'm already breathing hard.
"So beautiful like this," she murmurs, her voice seeming to come from everywhere at once in my sightless world. "All tied up and mine."
Something warm and soft brushes against my cock, making it jump. Her fingertips, barely touching, trace along my length with agonizing lightness. Not enough pressure to be satisfying, just enough to drive me insane.
"Tell me something, baby," Emily says, her fingers continuing their torturous exploration. They ghost over my tip, circle the base, drag along the sensitive underside. "What do you think Mommy's going to do to you tonight?"
My breath catches. The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with possibility. Without my sight, every touch feels amplified, every sensation more intense. Her fingers continue their maddeningly light caresses, and I struggle to form coherent thoughts.
"I... I don't know," I manage, my voice already rough with need.
"No guesses?" she teases, her touch becoming even lighter, barely there at all. "You're completely helpless right now, Danny. Tied up, blindfolded, at my mercy. What do you hope I'll do?"
Heat floods my face. The vulnerability of my position crashes over me, spread-eagle and exposed, unable to see what's coming, unable to touch her back. My cock throbs under her featherlight ministrations.
"Touch me more," I whisper. "Please."
Her fingers release my cock entirely, leaving it aching and exposed in the cool air. The mattress shifts as Emily moves, and I feel her weight settle differently beside me.
"What if I didn't tie you up to fuck you?" she says, her voice taking on an edge I don't recognize. "What if I tied you up to truly torture you?"
My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"
There's a pause that stretches too long, and I strain against the blindfold, desperate to see her face. The silence fills with the sound of distant waves and my own rapid breathing.
"What if I met someone today," Emily says slowly, deliberately. "While you were in the bathroom at dinner."
My cock twitches involuntarily, a confusing spike of arousal cutting through the sudden dread pooling in my gut. "What?"
"Yeah," she continues, her voice maddeningly casual. "Maybe I invited them here. Maybe I told him my husband is struggling to satisfy me."
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My cock hardens despite myself, or maybe because of the fear flooding my system. Blood rushes south even as my mind screams that this can't be happening.
"Emily…" I start, pulling against the ropes. They hold firm.
"Shh," she coos, and I feel her fingers trace down my chest. "Look how hard you're getting, baby. Does the idea of Mommy fucking someone else turn you on?"
"No," I gasp, but my traitorous body tells a different story. My cock is practically throbbing now, standing rigid between my spread legs. "Please, I don't want…"
"Don't want what?" Her hand wraps around my shaft, stroking once, twice. "Don't want to hear about how I met him at the bar while you were gone? How he bought me a drink and told me I was too beautiful to be alone?"
My breath comes in ragged gasps. The arousal and panic war inside me, creating a toxic cocktail that makes my head spin worse than the wine did. "Emily, please..."
Three sharp knocks echo from the villa door. My heart hammers against my ribs so hard I'm afraid it might burst through my chest.
"Emily?" My voice cracks. "Is someone actually at the door?"
I can't see anything through the blindfold. The darkness is absolute, suffocating. I strain my ears, trying to pick up any sound that might tell me what's happening. Is she moving toward the door? Is she smiling? Is this all just an elaborate mind game, or is there really someone standing outside our villa right now?
The mattress shifts as Emily's weight leaves it. I hear her footsteps, soft against the floor, moving toward the bedroom door.
"Emily!" I pull hard against the ropes, feeling them bite into my wrists. "Wait!"
Her footsteps pause. The silence stretches unbearably.
"What do you think, baby?" Her voice drifts back to me, casual and light, like she's asking if I want coffee or tea. "Should I answer it or not?"
My mouth goes dry. I genuinely can't tell if this is real or some twisted roleplay. The knocking sounded real. Her footsteps sounded real. But Emily wouldn't... would she?
"Tell Mommy what you want her to do," she continues with an amused tone.
"I..." Words fail me. My cock is still painfully hard, betraying me completely. "I can't... I can't see anything through the blindfold. I don't know if this is real."
Another knock, more insistent now. Three sharp raps that make me flinch against the sheets.
"Does it matter?" Emily asks, her voice closer now. I feel the bed dip as she sits beside me again. Her fingers trail up my thigh, making my muscles jump. "Real or not, you're tied up. You can't stop me either way."
"Please," I whisper, and I'm not even sure what I'm begging for anymore. For her to answer the door? For her not to? For this to be a game?
"Use your words, Danny," she says, her hand wrapping around my cock again. She strokes me slowly, deliberately. "Tell me. Do you want Mommy to open that door and let him in? Do you want to lie here, helpless and blindfolded, while another man fucks your wife?"
The safe word crashes through my panic like lightning splitting a tree.
"POPCORN CHICKEN!" I yell, my voice cracking with desperation. "Popcorn chicken, Emily, PLEASE!"
The blindfold disappears instantly, yanked from my face with urgent fingers. Light floods my vision, blinding me for a disorienting second before Emily's face comes into focus above me. Her expression transforms from seductive dominance to pure concern in a heartbeat.
"Oh, baby," she breathes, already working at the knots binding my wrists. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
My chest heaves as the ropes fall away. The moment my hands are free, Emily pulls me up into her arms, crushing me against her chest. I'm shaking, I realize distantly, trembling like a leaf in a storm.
"It was all an act, baby," she murmurs into my hair, her fingers stroking through the strands with frantic gentleness. "There's no one at the door. I promise."
I pull back enough to stare at her, searching her face for the truth. "What?"
She nods toward the nightstand where her phone sits face-up, the screen displaying some kind of audio app. "Just sound effects," she explains softly. "I downloaded a door knock app. That's all it was."
The relief hits me like a physical force, but it's immediately followed by something darker. My cock is still embarrassingly hard, but everything else feels wrong, twisted.
"I don't think I really..." I start, but the words tangle on my tongue.
Emily pulls me tighter against her, her arms wrapping around me like she's trying to shield me from the world. "I'm so sorry, baby," she whispers, and I can hear genuine remorse in her voice. "I just... I felt bad because the other night I promised to show you a video of me with a client, remember? But then everything happened with Holly and the dinner and..." She trails off, pressing her lips to my temple. "I wanted to make it up to you. I thought maybe you'd like the roleplay instead."
My brain struggles to process this. She was trying to give me something I wanted? The ask from a few days ago, when I'd admitted my curiosity about wanting to watch her videos, feels like a lifetime ago now.
"I don't think I liked the insults part," I manage, my voice small.
Emily nods against my hair, her grip on me never loosening. "That's fine," she says immediately. "I remember having this conversation before about boundaries, but I just... I really wanted to sell it. Make it feel real." She pulls back to cup my face between her hands, her blue eyes searching mine with desperate intensity. "I went too far. I'm sorry, Danny."
I watch Emily's face crumble, her eyes filling with tears that threaten to spill over. Her hands shake where they're still cupping my face, and suddenly she looks terrified, like I just told her I have a terminal illness instead of just used a safe word.
"Danny," she whispers, her voice breaking. "You're not going to leave me, are you?" A tear escapes, tracking down her cheek. "You didn't just realize you don't want to be with a... with someone who does what I do for a living, right?"
The question hits me like a sucker punch. All the fear and panic I felt moments ago evaporates, replaced by an overwhelming need to comfort her. I pull her against me, wrapping my arms around her trembling body.
"No, no, baby," I say firmly, holding her as tight as I can. "That's not it at all. God, Emily, no."
She's crying now, soft sobs muffled against my chest. I stroke her silver hair, feeling my own eyes burn with tears at her distress.
"I just didn't like the negativity," I explain, my voice gentle. "The insults about not satisfying you, the humiliation part. That's all."
Emily pulls back slightly, wiping at her eyes with shaking fingers. "But you..." She glances down between us, where my cock is still shamefully hard despite everything. "I don't understand."
I take her hand, guiding it down to wrap around my shaft. She gasps slightly at the contact, her fingers instinctively tightening. I let out a shaky sigh.
"My cock liked it the whole time," I admit, my cheeks burning. "My body responded. But my brain... my heart... they didn't enjoy the mean parts."
Understanding dawns in her eyes, along with relief so profound it makes her whole body sag. "We can just pretend I'm not..." she starts, but I shake my head.
"No," I interrupt gently. "I don't want to pretend you're not what you are. I love what you are." I take a deep breath, gathering courage. "I'm interested in exploring cuckolding with you, Emily. The fantasy of you with someone else. But in a loving way. Not with insults or degradation. Just... sharing you while knowing you're still mine."
Emily's face transforms, the fear melting away completely. A slow smile spreads across her lips as she strokes my cock more deliberately now. "We can do that," she says, her voice regaining its confidence. "No problem, baby. We can absolutely do that."
She leans forward, capturing my lips in a kiss that tastes like salt from her tears and promise. When she pulls back, her eyes are bright with renewed excitement.
"Tell me what you want," she murmurs, her hand working my shaft with practiced precision. "How do you want to explore this?"
"I guess, I'm not entirely sure."