As Louisa walked into the bedroom, she still couldn't decide what had surprised her more: the way she had submitted to him in the Uber on the way home or the way she had made her husband watch.

Until that night, Louisa couldn't have imagined being used like that in public—with his huge black hands all over her on the back seat of the Uber while her husband, Jack, watched in the rearview mirror, his face a twisted mix of disgust and excitement.

Then again, she never would have imagined coming home with this big black guy, putting her husband on his knees, and giving him an up-close and personal view of what he had just done to her.

Well, she never could have imagined any of that—until now. But now, something is different. The moment she felt that bulge, it was like a switch was thrown. She never would have imagined looking down at Jack's face, smiling as she held him there, even as he tried to pull away.

But Louisa has the power now. She knows that, despite his protests, he is enjoying it—at least on some level. Otherwise, why can she see that bulge?

Melissa Morton

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