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Chapter 25. an Alpha Engineer Tamed
Chapter 25.  an Alpha Engineer Tamed

Chapter 25. an Alpha Engineer Tamed

CobraElizabeth Lin Johnson

After swing shift, I awoke hubby and paraded before his groggy eyes in the dress and shoes Enrico bought. His awoken response,

“How much?”

I lifted the front of the dress hem. He pulled me onto the bed and took me with the dress and shoes on. Afterward I hung the dress in the closet and put the shoes underneath. Arousing him with Enrico’s dress and shoes was my act of fake faithfulness. Guilt placated; I was back in the adultery saddle.

Sunday morning, out shopping early, adorned in the dress and shoes, I arrived at the Stanford Mall prior to Enrico’s scheduled arrival. I went to the second level of a woman's store overlooking the fountain, observed it while among the clothes racks until he showed up, ten minutes early. He eagerly scanned the shopping throngs with a skeptical expression he was making a fool of himself. From my perch, I enjoyed observing his fretting.

Surreptitiously, I exited the store, walked away, waited a few minutes, turned back and strolled to the fountain five minutes late. He smiled broadly seeing me, relieved he wasn’t a fool and more at seeing me in the dress and shoes.

With eye contact acknowledgement, I led him to the bistro where I once had tea with Edward. He ordered coffee and me tea, served in its little silver kettle. He loaded sugar and cream in his cup as he informed me, he didn't drink tea. I told him he needed to expand his taste and coffee, like whiskey, is best drank neat.

To keep his attention, I tugged the dress’s hem with my right hand which wore Edward's sapphire ring, tapped a heel on the tile floor and swayed close when refilling my cup so he could smell his Shalimar. When I sipped from my teacup, I held it in my left hand to display its wedding ring adornment. It was apparent the potential invasion of another man's territory excited him. It all kept him focused while he pretended to be aloof. His pretense failed. The guppy’s tail fluttered.

He glanced about now and then to see if we were observed by the esplanade shoppers. It was evident he was nervous about being seen by someone known with me. As I flirted, I suspected he’d been caught before cheating on his wife and had domestic turf issues. Once my tea was finished, I swung toward him, gave him a nice panty flash as I got off the stool, and announced.

"I need to get things needed for our date."

"I am not buying jewelry."

"Of course not, I'm married and don't want your jewelry. You’re not important enough to me."

He flushed but didn’t retort, his relief at no jewelry purchase agenda overcame his desire to snap back. I led him into the Emporium Department Store at one end of the Mall. My short dress and high heels garnered the attention of others. He kept a nervous distance and acted as if he might walk away, but followed.

We rode the escalator to the second floor, he one step below while he glanced about attempting to discern what he would get stuck buying as he glanced furtively at my legs as the escalator rose. At the second floor landing he loosened up when I entered the lingerie section.

I went to bras and flipped through the racks while he stood back milling around as if he wasn't with me. He was wandering toward sleep wear to escape. I called him back.

"Do you see anything you want me to wear?"

I held an expensive bra of satin up to my bodice He nodded acquiesce. I gave it to him to hold and moved to panties. There, I held different pairs in front of my hips for him to choose from. He selected a nylon bikini with lace simply by nodded embarrassment.

Holding my selections, he was sheepish, thinking what next? I picked up a garter belt and sheer nylons and announced.

"We’re done, I got the things needed for our date."

Standing before the cash register, he pulled out his credit card, thought better of it, and paid with cash. On the escalator ride down, carrying the bag, he asked.

"Am I going to see you wear these?"

Not responding, I motioned him to follow me to the Mall parking lot. I walked briskly to my car, now a 914 Porsche, not a real Porsche but one with the logo.

Its bucket seats rode low to the ground. I pulled open the driver’s door and sat down with my legs outside, the dress hem high on my thighs and let him leer. I took the package then swung my legs in, shut the door and rolled down the window.

He put his right hand on the door jamb as if to restrain the car from escaping and asked again. “

Am I going to see you wear these?”

"Tonight, at eight, I’ll meet you at the San Jose Airport Holiday Inn lounge. Get a room. If you behave, I’ll model for you."

"In nice things?"

"Why do you think I selected them. Do they look like they’re for a half date?"

I started the car, sped off shifting gears and looked back in the rear-view mirror. He stood staring at the receding car.

This guppy will come fluttering his tail.

Home by noon, I told hubby I bought some things he’d like. He wanted to see what, but I told him to wait until the evening. I changed clothes, stashed my new acquisitions, hung the dress in the bathroom to air out and with hubby and took the kids to our parents for our weekly BBQ.

As we drove over, I thought how hubby was guilty for my adultery. He brought up swinging which was now substituted by his porno videotapes. At the BBQ and ride home, I was sullen and distracted as I thought of meeting Enrico as I brewed excuses and blame shifted, thinking it was hubby’s fault, I was meeting Enrico.

Back from the BBQ by 6 PM, the kids in the den watching TV, I dropped my prepared lie bomb released at the last minute to avoid time to reflect on its absurdity.

“Nortec called. There’s a quick 8 O’clock meeting to learn how to operate a new alignment machine."

” On Sunday night?”

“It’s the only time they can do it. We run 24/7. The engineer promised it’ll be under 2 hours. I’ll get paid for it.”

Initially, I was going to use the shopping ruse but decided the risk of his insisting on coming with the kids was too great. A whopper was safer.

He swallowed but remained suspicious with indigestion. He stayed in the bedroom while I got ready and was shocked when I came out of the bathroom wearing the new bra, panties, garter belt and nylons, the latter set I’d never worn. Before he inquired about them, I said.

“Do you like my new undies I got for you this morning? I thought you’d like them. Don’t get too turned on until I get back.”

While putting on makeup, he grilled me who the engineer was.

"Some nerd named Enrico, Mr. Enrico as he insists. A bald Italian guy, pushy too, but I don’t know much about him. I’ll tell you more when I get back."

He attempted an advance as I got up from my makeup table.

“Wait, wait, I’m already late. The meeting will be over in a couple of hours.”

I slipped into the dress and heels and asked him to zip up the back. After zipping me up he pressed my buttocks to him and attempted to lift the dress hem. I pushed him away, said again I was late and he could have it when I got back. I went to the den and kissed the kids. They liked the smell of Shalimar.

Standing before the empty space, where once there was a fish tank I thought of my new male guppy while putting on lipstick. I kept one eye on hubby flashing his tail, pouted my red lips, rubbed them together to even out the color, let hubby, cheek peck kiss and left at 7:30.

Out of the driveway, around the corner, away from hubby’s visibility, I felt the rush of freedom in the 914 Porsche experienced when young as my DeSoto drove off. Now it was freedom to slake adultery’s ego flattering addiction.

On the way to the motel, I stopped at a Payless drug store and went through the embarrassment of purchasing condoms.

It was a half-hour drive to the San Jose Airport, Holiday Inn, a four-story structure, subsequently demolished and rebuilt as a mid-hi-rise. I’d discovered its rendezvous potential accidentally after Edward left.

Driving nearby, needing to use a restroom, it was a better option than an untidy service station. Sitting in the lobby restroom on a stall toilet, I realized its adultery meeting place potential as I peed.

It’s location at the confluence of the Bayshore and Nimitz freeways provided convenient access. Its entrance driveway led to an enclosed parking lot screened from street's view by the surrounding hotel, restaurant, and lounge. Once you passed the entrance your car was concealed from the motel’s only street frontage.

If seen by someone known, entering, or exiting, the need to use its restroom provided a plausible alibi. Proximity to San Jose’s Airport meant most guests were from afar. The only exposure risk was recognition in an elevator or guest room corridor by someone known, an exposure both would pretend not to occur due to similar culpability.

Calculation of its affair potential reflected my subconscious libidinousness which knew what I didn’t admit, I missed subterfuge sex.

Once I left home, I drove fast on the left lane of the Bayshore. My 10 O’clock return home was not the impetus. I sought what I missed, illicit sex.

Early, I parked a couple blocks distant to time my arrival, pulled in five minutes late and parked near the front lobby. I swung open the car door, exited, and strode to the lounge. He sat in a secluded booth where he could observe those coming and going. I sat opposite him but said nothing, not even hi. Happy I wore the dress and shoes he’d bought but probably more because I even came, he broke the silence.

"What other nice things I bought are you wearing?"

"You didn’t buy me anything, there’re gifts."

Instead of retorting, he put a hand on my knee. I pushed it off.

"A gentleman waits until served."

"Do you think I'm a gentleman?"

"No, you’re crude."

The waitress came. I ordered a glass of white wine, he a beer which he drank out of the bottle. He stared at me intently, obviously a guppy flashing his tail colors and asked.

"Why do you think I'm crude?"

"You quaff your beer out of the bottle with a glass sitting in front of you. If you had polish, you’d take time to pour it in the glass, enjoy watching it foam up and let the scent of hops enter your nostrils as part of its drink ritual."

"What about you? Do you have class?

“I’m all class.”

He poured the rest of his beer in the glass. We bantered until my wine was nearly gone, he impatient about how things were going. I held my wine glass up, took a last sip, looked at him through the empty glass and said, "

“Conversation time is over."

Before he could reply, I walked swiftly to the lobby, not indicating if I were staying or leaving while he was delayed paying the bill. I stood between the elevators and the exit, turned, and looked back at him. He fumbled in his wallet, paid cash, left without waiting for change and walked quickly towards me, perplexed if to get angry over my quick departure or smile at my hurry to model.

When he caught up, I strode to the elevators, pushed the up button and the door of an elevator opened immediately, as if to say, no more delays. I entered.

He rushed in behind, pushed three and we stared at each other as the car rose with my perfume and his after-shave comingling. When the door beeped opened on the third floor, I let him hold my hand and lead me down the corridor, our first physical contact.

He stopped at room 314, took out his key, opened the door, and looked at me, unsure I would cross the threshold. He needn't worry. I boldly stepped in.

In the room, a dozen red roses sat on a table with a bottle of Champagne. Next to them was a card.

I surveyed the room without hesitation, unlike entering Edward's apartment on our first night together. There was a king-size bed. The curtains were drawn. Satisfied, I bent over to admire the roses and let the rear hem of my dress rise, his first glimpse of my class act.

Ignoring the roses, champagne, and card, I waltzed to the bed, pulled all the covers off, led him by the hand and sat him on its edge. With the lights on, I undressed him, shirt hung on a chair, pants folded on the seat and shoes underneath.

I moved deliberately to be back home by ten but not hurriedly. He tried to speed the action and reached over and pulled me close. I pushed him away.

“If you don’t behave, you won’t see me modeling act. Take off your socks, T shirt and shorts and set them on the chair seat.”

When he pulled the T shirt over his head a hairy chest was revealed as if to offset his baldness. He was muscular trim, but the beginning of a beer belly was evident.

Sitting exposed, he was vulnerable before me, fully dressed. Naked, he stared at me. His penis inflated, proclaiming its intention of my being its next conquest. I stared at it transfixed as his erection ascended to full attention but made no comment. It was the largest I’d seen but I’d only seen two. My husband's and Edward's were in the six to seven-inch range depending on their arousal. Enrico’s was definitely a circumcised eight.

He reached over to hug me again. I pulled away.

“Sit still and wait. If you are a good doggy your bone will get its treat.”

“When are you going to undress and model?”

“I want to make sure you’re paying attention before I model. Are you ready to see me, model? "

His eight-inch member rose a bit more in rapt attention, his reply. I turned around and told him to pull down the dress zipper my husband recently pulled up. Un-zipped, I turned to face him, slid the dress past my shoulders and let it fall around my shoes. Hushed, he stared at the panty, garter belt, nylons, and the satin bra, his “gifts”. He inched to eight plus.

Stepping out of the dress, I bent over, picked it up and draped it over the other chair in the room. I went to the bathroom. My heels clicked on the tile floor.

With a large towel dampened in warm water, I approached the bed with cross steps to undulate my hips. I hushed any comment from him with an index finger to my lips. It was time for action, not banter.

“Sit up straight on the bed's edge. Good, spread your legs and knees but keep your heels on the floor. Good, now with your feet flat on the floor, lay back, stare at the ceiling and spread your arms up on the bed. Good boy. Don’t move while I prep you.”

I knelt between his parted legs and bathed his pubic area with the towel. Like his chest, it was hairy turf in need of mowing. For now, I swayed his erection about in wonder. He tried to rise but I pushed him back and warned again to behave and follow instructions.

I revealed what Edward taught me about male anatomy. After teasing him to the brink, I stood up. All his doubts were gone. There was no banter, wisecracks, or resistance, only anticipation.

I stepped out of the panties. With shoes, bra, garter belt and nylons on, I climbed on the bed, ready to mount my steed. I pulled a condom out of its packet, tore open the foil, centered it on his member and rolled it down to the end of the shaft. He took it all. He moaned.

"No way, no way!"

While pleading into my eyes to let him up and do me fast, I commanded.

” Stop pestering. Cobra’s doing the modeling, not you.”

He wasn't thinking about the price of perfume, dress, shoes or lingerie now. I squatted down, straddled him, eased his penis in, his erection my saddle horn.

"Okay cowboy I am ready to ride. We’re going to see how this bronco bucks and gallops."

He tried little jerks up against my orders to stay still. My bronco wanted out of the chute. I whispered to be a good horsey, follow directions and stay still until I told him to buck.

With my high heel spurs tucked under his ankles, I directed his hands to my buttocks. Ready to ride, I exclaimed.

"Chute’s open! Let’s see if you can buck me off the saddle!”

He bucked uncontrollably as if a real bronco. I hugged his neck with my left arm to avoid falling off, rode him hard and egged him with torso slaps of my free right hand. I wished I had a crop to whump him faster. Soon his spastic bucking broke to a galloping rhythm as he exclaimed repeatedly.

"No way!"

It was like my first orgasm, imagining my escape riding a galloping horse with Marlon Brando in the movie, One Eyed Jacks.

With my forehead pressed to his, left arm around his neck, I egged his gallop faster.

“Go, cowboy go, faster cowboy, faster!"

In a frenzy, we climaxed together.

Drenched, he now a broken in gentle pony, I pulled off his drooping member saddle horn, rolled off my steed, laid next to him and kicked off my spur shoes. I looked at the ceiling and reflected.

He is great, not as a lover, as a ride.

After we stopped perspiring and our sweat had evaporated or been absorbed by the sheets we chatted, he how great I was, I how he was a good steed. Soon I his penis firmed up again, not as big as before but big enough; he was ready to ride again, broken in but ready to gallop as his rider instructed.

I rolled back and spread my legs. He hopped out of bed.

“Here’s your shoes, put them back on.”

“No, here’s the condom package, put one on.”

He fumbled about in his haste. I took it from him, tore one open and watched him roll it on. I laid back and let him gallop on the bed, now horse broken but still a steed. I scratched his back with my nails in climax to brand him for his wife to see if she looked.

Spent, he looked at me perplexed as we laid apart. I think he was worried about how his back looked. I said.

“You’re not an Italian lover.”

“No, no, I’m an Italian lover. How do you like Italian?”

“You got a big penis but a cold heart, you’re not real Italian, maybe Sicilian."

“No, no, I’m Roma Italian; my heart’s Italian.”

“Your heart’s cold, cold heart, super penis, Sicilian Italian, you’re like Spumoni ice cream. How about you’re Mr. Supini?”

He loved the tag and thereafter he was Mr. Supini.

Fitting to his lack of imagination he never asked if my love box had a name tag or attempted to tag it himself. He assumed Cobra was simply my nickname.

We’d been in the room for an hour. I got up, gathered my clothes, went to the bathroom, used a wet towel to clean up and dressed. I twisted open the vials of shampoo and conditioner and tore open the soap bars so they passed the "maid can take home" requirement.

While I re-applied lipstick, he asked if I was satisfied, as if he were a great lover and I should be grateful.

I turned from the mirror and asked.

"Was it a half date?"

"A ten."

"When Cobra saw a dozen roses, she thought it could be a twelve".

I picked up my purse, walked toward the door but stopped in front of the table. I left the Champagne untouched but took two roses and the card which I read in the elevator and threw away in the lobby. It was trite, saying how much he wanted to meet me. He’d met me. Now he wasn’t going to forget me.

I arrived home just before ten. Hubby asked how the meeting went. I told him the engineer just wanted to brag about a new eight RAM mega chip and I’d left in a hurry. Aroused, he wanted to have me with the garter belt and nylons on. I took them off, showered and said he could have it in the morning. He tossed and turned all night and bright and early, he rear spooned next to me. I jumped out of bed, showered, hopped back in the bed and let him have it, pleased with my successful mission.

Afterward, Enrico and hubby pestered me to wear the nylons and garter belt again. They were too complicated. I threw them away and told them I’d get a set for them to wear and make love to.

Author Notes: Out of control a wife plans to have an affair while taming a pushy engineer to act the way she wants.

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About The Author
Elizabeth Lin Johnson
About This Story
3 Jan, 2018
Read Time
18 mins
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