A Condo with Two Views Read online

  A CONDO WITH TWO VIEWS

  Al Daltrey

  Copyright 2015 by Al Daltrey

  Smashwords Edition

  This story contains STRONG BDSM. While fully consensual, it includes submission, dominance, sadism and masochism. Please do NOT buy or read this if you are offended by graphic sexual descriptions including sexual violence. All characters are aged 25+, and it is recommended for an adult audience ONLY (aged 21+). This story is pure fiction and the author does not condone any violent behavior.

  The author welcomes your comments, or any concerns:

  [email protected]

  His View: Dedicated to my wife,

  who helped immensely with this book,

  especially the female sensibility.

  Her View: He’s being kind,

  as this is truly his story.

  (except the really hot stuff).

  Chapter 1: The Honeymoon

  Jack’s View:

  I’d say Chloe is the perfect wife. She’s beautiful, of course. She’s killer smart. I often tell her that she’s smarter than I am. If we have kids, I hope they take after her. Not only that, she’s insightful, she’s caring. Yes, at times she can be stubborn. Oh, I guess I should say she can also tolerate quite the spanking. I have to practically pry her safeword out of her when I’m laying into her ass with a paddle.

  Outside of the bedroom she can stand her ground with anyone, me included. She’s no pushover. But in the bedroom, well let’s just say that behind closed doors, the love of my life turns into a complete and total slut. Make no mistake; my wife Chloe Walker is a submissive masochist: no wonder I love her so much.

  We had decided on a two week honeymoon. The first week was spent on a quiet resort in Turks and Caicos. We knew that after the madness of a wedding, we’d need at least one week to chill. By mid-morning, we’d be into the Margaritas and Piña Coladas. By noon, Mai Tais, Mojitos, and beer. Actually, it might be easier if I list what we didn’t drink. In the afternoon we’d nap in our room, wake up, fuck again – and go swimming before dinner. After a wonderful meal together, and some dancing or partying or whatever, we’d do one last shot of Tequila, or perhaps some bourbon for me, and then back up to our room for yet more amazing sex.

  I kept the bdsm to a minimum. There was no pain-play that week, nor did we use toys or bondage or anything of an extreme nature. I held her and told her how much I loved her each time we made love.

  The second week was spent exploring Vancouver Canada and Seattle. We knew after one week of sun and beach in the Caribbean, we’d be itchy to go for long walks, to see the sights, to visit galleries and everything that goes with being in a bigger city. I’d only been to Vancouver once on business, and this was Chloe’s first time, so we had a blast. The week was a blur. The food was spectacular. Chloe had selected a bunch of restaurants in advance, based on recommendations from friends, and we toured all over to the find these spots. Seattle closed out our honeymoon.

  We took an airport limo back to our condo. We were tired from the trip, but it was a good tired. A contented tired. Two lovers just married. While we had dated for two years, this to me represented the official beginning of our life together. I glanced over at Chloe intending to give her a smile. She was softly crying. I knew immediately it was not sad tears, but happy tears. My darling was deeply in love. She was enroute to begin the next phase of her life, with her man. That man was me.

  The first week back was hectic, but good. Both of us had an enormous amount of catching up to do at our respective jobs. We did our best to kick-ass during the day, so we had time in the evening to unpack and put away some of the wedding gifts, and return the seemingly endless list of emails. Chloe wrote personalized thank you cards to each and every person who had attended our ceremony, including the ones who couldn’t attend, but had sent a gift. She made sure each card was genuine and real, and original. Finally every night at 11:00 pm, we’d shut down on everything except each other. The last hour of the day was ours and ours alone. No computer, no cell phones, no TV. Jack and Chloe. Period.

  We’d been living together for months before the wedding so there wasn’t that kind of adjustment necessary. All of her stuff, including her furniture, was already moved into our condo. There was plenty of room still, as our condo was quite spacious.

  During our entire honeymoon, and the first week back, I had not used my Dom voice once. This was a tone of voice that Chloe knew all too well. It did not signify anger, in fact, quite the opposite. It signaled that it was play time. Not as husband and wife. Not as lovers. But as dominant and submissive. As Master and slave. When I used this tone of voice, two things happened. One, I took immediate control. And two, Chloe’s pussy would start to leak like a faucet.

  Finally now, at the beginning of our second week back, I used the voice: “This month you will receive your first assignment as my owned submissive.”

  Chloe shuddered where she stood. I let my words hang in the air, and made sure she had time to let the words sink in.

  “Yes Master,” she replied, with a soft shaking voice.

  “Expect that someone other than me will be using your body,” I continued.

  Happily married, it was time to return to our normal way of life.

  Chloe’s View:

  Where do I start? Jack is tall, handsome, and he is all mine. I know he loves me. I felt it on the first day we met. Being male, he thought it was all lust. Being a woman, I knew he was taken with me and soon wouldn’t be able to help himself. He is more than my husband, he is my Dom. Sure, he is very good looking, but it is more than that. He has such sex appeal. With a look, he can make me heal. Sexually speaking, I love to receive pain. I am one dirty girl. I would rub myself on the corner of the clothes dryer if I had to. No apologies here. And the sweet reality is that I love Jack’s body, mind and all of his kinky interests. It was a match made in sex heaven.

  I remember the first time I saw Jack’s cock. Let me see, the word stupendous comes to mind. Big, thick, and perfectly straight. When it gets hard, it gets rock hard. Just the thought of it makes me tingle. Can you blame me for wanting it inside me 24/7? When that thing is inside me, I know I’m all his, like his sword is commanding my submission. I am completely and utterly his. His to do whatever he desires.

  You should have seen him on our wedding day; walking down the aisle I could see him standing there tall, strong and oh so handsome in his black tuxedo. He looked slightly nervous which made him even more endearing to me. He had just cut his brown hair a little shorter than normal. A few days before, he came home from the salon and quietly commented that his mother would appreciate the shorter style. I just smiled. With his presence, Jack certainly commanded attention whenever he walked into a room. Seeing him, waiting anxiously for his bride at the end of the aisle, made me the happiest woman in the room. Tears threatened as I walked to my future husband.

  In the end, our wedding was magical. I mean, like most brides, looking back there are probably some things I would have changed. That said, I don’t really worry about the little details of that day, I just wanted to be married to this man. Planning a wedding isn’t easy. At times, I felt like I was being pulled in a million directions. You need to be true to yourself, but then there are your friends, your parents, and your future in-laws. Thankfully, Jack was a dream. He supported me, and provided his input when asked, but otherwise he let me plan most of the wedding and run the show. By all accounts, we had one of the most picturesque weddings our circle of family or friends had ever seen.

  Of course, we chose a beautiful place to be married. It was a large, tastefully decorated, renovated mansion on top of rolling hills overlooking the sea. I requested a perfectly lit sunset, and that’s exactly what I got
! Not being particularly religious, we decided to opt out of a church ceremony and got married on the main floor of the mansion. Numerous French doors framed the room as the sun set on the horizon. It had a centre aisle, lined by long tapered flaming white candles. Very romantic, and despite the room being filled with so many other people, it felt like the world melted away, and it was just me and my man.

  After the ceremony, we took photographs and joined all of our guests for an exquisite dinner served on the finest china. Speeches were made, champagne flutes were clinked, and all who attended really did enjoy themselves. Now, as every woman knows, here is the most important feature of the day. My dress, of course! Next to the honeymoon and picking the perfect groom, every bride knows the single most important detail of your day. I bet if you asked any groom, he would barely remember your dress. Ask him what your pussy looked like on your wedding night, he’d know.

  Picture this: a Panina Tornai designer dress; slightly off-white sweetheart sheath design in beautifully beaded lace, hugging my every curve. My brown hair was swept up into a sophisticated bun with a finely beaded head dress. The beads danced in the candlelight as the fabric gently flowed creating a carpet of loveliness as I walked graciously toward my groom. It was a very sophisticated, yet sexy wedding dress. Walking down the aisle, I knew that men wanted me and all the women wanted to be me.

  I wasn’t sure if every bride felt like this on her honeymoon, but while it was wonderful and the sex was amazing, I couldn’t wait for us to be back home as a married couple. Most of all, it was the little things I looked forward to: day-to-day life things. For example, I wanted to wake up in the condo, sneak out of bed early, and with Jack still sleeping put the coffee on. This way, when he opened his eyes, he’d smell the freshly brewed java and know that a hot strong cup was waiting. I wanted to tidy up, after we had friends over for a few drinks, before Jack could make his way to the kitchen. I would know exactly where everything goes; after all it would be my kitchen. I feel silly thinking this, but I just wanted to be Jack’s wife. I wanted us to get a letter in the mail addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Gibb.

  The first week back was as busy as you’d expect. I couldn’t believe the honeymoon was over. Was that two weeks? It felt more like two days. On occasion, I’d pinch myself. I’m married to Jack Gibb, formerly the most sought after bachelor in all of San Francisco. How the fuck did I pull this off? I know he considers me beautiful, but this guy could have had anyone. Oh well, too late girls, he picked me!

  Work was work. It was hard to concentrate, but I didn’t want to fall behind. They had been good to me in the weeks leading up to the wedding, so I owed them my best effort, and I gave it my all. I skipped lunch all week to keep chipping away at the thank-you notes.

  By the beginning of our second week, we were caught up on sleep, and then Jack spoke with that tone of voice that never failed to stop me in my tracks. I hadn’t heard that voice for well over a month. I practically convulsed hearing it.

  “This month you will receive your first assignment as my owned submissive.”

  I was speechless for a second. I also practically came on the spot. Jack had long since discovered my slutty and dutiful alter ego, and he played me like a violin. Over the next few hours, I’d replay these words in my mind, over and over.

  “Yes Master,” was my response.

  Chapter 2. Two Views

  Jack’s View:

  We closed the deal on our new condominium only a few months earlier. The building itself is brand new, so we are the first owners of our suite. In fact, of the 92 units in our building, only about half are currently sold, with many of them still under construction. Personally, I think some of the units are overpriced. Very few have the stunning two-directional view that we have. We are on the Penthouse floor, so we have the benefit of height. But also, our unit spans the width of the building, hence giving us two views – we face north looking out the living room, and we face south looking out the bedroom.

  The view looking north over the bay is killer. I mean, who doesn’t stare in awe at Alcatraz? The bay itself, the sparkling water, the old prison sitting up high on the rock. It’s a stunning waterfront vista, and immediately sold me on the unit.

  Anytime I’m working on the laptop, I sit in front of that picture window. Whether I’m returning emails or preparing a PowerPoint presentation, I never tire of looking out over the ocean.

  We lucked out because we had our pick of any unit in the building, prior to construction. I’d been doing some major consulting work for the developer, Koobecaf Homes. The owner of the firm is an aggressive Brazilian investor, Benito Sanchez – sometimes known as Big Benny behind his back. Benito is fairly new to San Francisco, so I do everything from show him the hottest clubs and best restaurants in the city, to helping him design all of the sales materials, website, and other marketing materials for Koobecaf. In return, Benito gave me the Penthouse suite at the remarkable price of $850,000. This is a unit that would easily sell for $1.2 million.

  It’s a win-win. Sure, Benito can be a pain in the ass. He’s filthy rich, and arrogant as hell, but deep down I think he’s a decent guy. It has crossed my mind that he might be connected to the mob, or some sort of Brazilian mob, but I don’t know that for sure.

  The point is, Chloe and I got a stunning condominium, at a great price, in a brand new building in Fisherman’s Warf, with two spectacular views.

  Chloe’s View:

  I will admit that the first few times that Jack talked to me about the condo, I was feigning interest. I was so consumed with planning the wedding at the time that I was relieved to have my fiancé handle the details of our first property purchase. I knew we wouldn’t be living in the condo forever; I hoped it would be a stepping stone to a house with a garden. Plus, I knew we were in good hands: Jack’s. He is pretty astute when it comes to money and business. I contributed some of my savings toward our down payment, and my parents gave us an additional contribution as our wedding gift. Jack was doing some consulting work for the developer, which got us an unbelievable price.

  On a sour note, the developer, Benito, gives me the creeps. A woman knows that feeling when you meet a man and he seems to look right through you, and not in a good way. He’s a slime bucket. I know it. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a gold tooth. Benito is only a few years older than Jack, but somehow he feels decades older. I hate how he ogles me whenever I see him. I bet he bought his education with inherited money; otherwise he’d be flipping burgers for a living.

  Then, one day before our unit was even ready, Jack and I donned hardhats, and for the first time, I saw our future home in person. All I can say is…OH…MY…GOD! The layout of the space was functional and lovely, but the views took my breath away. The living room faced north, looking out over the water and Alcatraz Island. Jack was sold on the view alone, and more often than not, he’ll sit facing the ocean when reading or working.

  I know that Jack’s favorite view is the bay. I must admit, one of my favorite sights is to see my husband in a comfortable position looking out over the rock. In addition to that, I am fascinated by the view from our bedroom, which faces south, overlooking Ghirardelli Square. Being on the eleventh floor, we were still low enough that you could feel the buzz and energy of the quaint shops and restaurants with the window open: horns, laughter, music, occasional yelling and craziness. It’s alive, it has a real pulse, and it makes me feel that this is our community. Yes, this is our neighborhood.

  Our suite is 1,700 square feet with 10 foot ceilings. At first, I thought it might be on the small size but walking in the front door you immediately get a sense of spaciousness in the living room which houses floor to ceiling windows. The master bedroom is adjacent to the living room with our own private bathroom featuring a walk-in closet with built-in cabinetry; a definite must for my clothes and shoes. A not-so-small den which could easily serve as a guest bedroom and a bath are down the hall along with laundry and a powder room. Besides the living room, the kitchen is the sho
w piece of the condo: white quartz grey veined counters with modern white gloss cabinetry and all appliances by Bosch. The modern dark grey stained wide-plank maple flooring completes the look, and the stone accent wall in the living room is surely the eye-catching focal point.

  I just look out over the charismatic view of Ghirardelli Square, and I’m strangely at peace, even with all the activity. I guess I am truly at home with my new husband.

  Chapter 3. The Caretaker

  Jack’s View:

  All new homeowners go through an enjoyable ritual whereby you christen every room in your new abode. As a newly married couple, we jumped in on that action. I fucked my beautiful wife on the kitchen counter, during the midst of dinner preparation. Sure it’s cliché, but it’s no less erotic. Her legs were hooked around my body, the heels of her feet digging into my butt. I stood in between those spread legs pounding into her with abandon. I kissed her deeply while we both came. I love my wife.

  We fucked in the shower. We fucked on the bathroom floor. I put a leash on her one day and made her crawl up and down our hallway, while I urged her on with the threat of my belt. Yet another day, I fucked her ass while her tits were pressed up against the living room window, with Alcatraz Island off in the distance. I made her stay in position for ten minutes afterward, while I sat on the couch catching my breath. Such a lovely sight. Her body a silhouette with the brightness of the sun pouring into our condo through the glass in front of her, arms still up and leaning. From where I sat, I could see my seed trickling down her inner thigh. Chloe, being a good girl, didn’t dare break position.

  The first opportunity to socialize with our circle of friends as a married couple occurred when one of Chloe’s childhood girlfriends threw a housewarming party on a Friday night. They had purchased a small bungalow in the suburbs in nearby Redwood City. Chloe and I had decided long ago to keep our bdsm lifestyle secret from our friends and family. Not that we were ashamed of it, but it was an aspect of our lives we wanted to live without interference, judgment or involvement from those close to us.