Picture this

Not only had John bookmarked lots of sites, he had also downloaded lots of images. When I say lots, I mean hundreds. It must have taken him forever. I can only assume that whenever he saw something he liked, he clicked and downloaded it. And being an anally retentive sort, he had considerately catalogued them into albums in Google's Picasa picture management software. Now, Kim was flipping through them, fascinated.

She flicked through them quickly but slowed, tilting her head this way and that, as she looked through an album named 'femdom'. To be frank, I knew this was an ingredient in John's fantasies but I hadn't realised the extent of his interest. The album was subdivided into categories with names like: classic, inter-racial, cruella, amateurs, pro-doms, bondage, pain and water-sports. Kim paused at a picture of a young, slim, leather-clad woman, in impossibly high heels, holding a riding crop and standing over a naked man who appeared to be cowering.

Kim turned to me, frowning. "Is this how he wants me to be?" she asked, with a tone of disbelief.

"In his dreams, maybe," I said. "But you need to overlay these glossy, stylised images onto the conversation he had with that bloke on-line, where he imagines that it is you who is cuckolding and dominating him; not some idealised mannequin. I think what's important is not the actual image but the idea it portrays. Let's look at the amateurs and see if the women are...errr...more normal."

As Kim, continued to flick through the pictures, I stood behind her, kissing her neck. I reached around, fondling her breasts, gently teasing her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. There were more than enough pictures to keep it going for a while. I reached down and found her clitoris, rolling it around with my finger to the rhythm of the mouse click. 

"Stand up for a second," I said, then slid underneath her, sitting down on the chair. I pulled her hips back towards the chair and entered her as she sat down. "Let's look together," I said. And so we did, fucking as we flipped through all of the albums, with me adding a crude commentary of encouragement, suggesting how we might bring the image to our own reality.

Kim was close to orgasm as we started to look at a sub-category of the cuckold album, named 'humiliation'. I don't know whether the pictures had any impact on Kim but she happened to orgasm on a picture of a man, gagged and bound in cage, while two men took a woman from each end. 

***

Kim had to go to work, so she went off to have a shower, while I took the opportunity to download John's address-book onto my memory stick.

***

I came back on Thursday evening and, between fucking in various rooms, some light bondage games and protestations of love, we talked about what we have found. Or rather, I got Kim to talk about her feelings. The essence was that she had a mixture of doubt, anxiety and excitement. She said she felt more alive than she had done for many years and didn't want to go back. But she really wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to involve John. Maybe, we should keep it our secret, she told me, and no risk what we already have.

"I'll tell you what," I said, "we will not even mention what we have seen: the conversations, the websites and the pictures. We'll just do a gentle, low-risk test of  how he reacts to you having a lover, when he gets back on Sunday. We'll do it in such a way, that you only carry on if you are certain that it works for both of you. We'll make sure that there is an escape-hatch that causes no embarrassment to either of you. And if things work out, I don't see any reason why we would ever need to tell him what we found."  I hope you liked the unsubtle use of the word 'we'.

I told Kim my plan and she agreed that it was what we would do. Needless to say, I have no intention of turning back at this point. John deserves what's coming to him, whether he likes it or not. We'll get to 'not' at some point anyway.

***

Friday morning, Kim left me at John's PC, doing my email, while she went to work. The week had exceeded my expectations. Teeing up John's introduction to his new reality was gratifying. But what pleased me the most was that Kim now found it normal to fuck me in her own home and trusted me enough to leave me there alone.

But there was one more bonus yet to come. After Kim had left, I was sitting at John's PC, in John's dressing gown when I heard the front door open. It turned out to be Kim and John's son, Michael, who had come to pick up some clothes.

"Who are you," he asked suspiciously.

"An old friend of your Mum's," I said.

He eyed the dressing gown. "Are you staying here?" he asked.

"I did last night," I said.

"Does dad know?"

"I am sure he does," I said.

This sounds like a cordial exchange, given the circumstances, but I was doing my best to sound contemptuous of his questions. To treat them like an unwelcome distraction from something important. The conversation went on for a little in the same vein, with me bring as obnoxious as I could. I wanted Michael to dislike me and I believe I succeeded. I think the reason is why is obvious but, if not, it will become apparent in due course.