American Dream (F/F)

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Categories: gradual lesbian humiliation, findom, cuckquean, foot worship, trampling, footstool, pony ride

Synopsis:

Arabian couple moves to USA full of dreams. Omar is about to boost his business, gorgeous Aisha is overwhelmed by freedom women have in this country – open cloth, career possibilities, being equal to men. She sees so many wonderful changes to her life that were out of question back in her homeland.

The only thing she’s upset with is their new neighbour Candace, who represents all that Arabian women aren’t. Uninhibited and brazen, she knows her beauty and how to use it to conquer men. Being lazy and having constant money issues, she quickly get interested with wealthy Omar, who in return is enchanted by openly sexual and flirty woman, like he never met before.

The only problem for Candace is Aisha, who is younger and Omar’s wife after all. But pretty soon Candace finds a way to turn the problem into what she couldn’t imagine in her boldest dreams…

Chapter 1 

Aisha was excited. She’d always wanted to travel, and here she was, getting off the flight in New York with her husband Omar, ready to start a new life together in the land of the free. 

She had big dreams. America represented opportunity for the Arabian couple. Omar was an attractive, wealthy man, and already had business opportunities waiting for him. He would be travelling quite a lot, his computer science background highly sought after in major companies right throughout the US. Only in his early 30s, he had a bright future ahead of him.  As for Aisha, America was the perfect place for a 22-year-old Princess. She already knew from interactions online that American men melted for her soft doll-like facial features, her olive complexion, her jet black hair and petite frame.  She was sure that before long, Omar and she would be living like King and Queen, taking full advantage of a perfect life in the USA. 

She clung to Omar’s arm as they strode through the airport.  She could already feel her dreams coming true.  American women looked her husband up and down.  American men stole glances at her behind their wives’ backs and then looked at her husband with a mixture of intimidation and respect.  

While Omar waited for the luggage, Aisha went to get them a coffee.  The American barista fumbled over his words as he served the stunning Aisha, eventually handing her the two coffees. 

“No charge, ma’am,” he stuttered. 

She flashed him her perfect smile. Yes – life in the US was going to be a dream.   

Armed with their luggage, they were greeted by their driver. He warmly shook Omar’s hand, then took Aisha’s dainty hand in his and kissed it. 

“May I carry your bags Sir, Ma’am?” he offered. 

Aisha almost squealed with delight.  Back home, her husband had always been highly respected… but being respected by men herself was new to her.   

As they walked towards the car, Aisha looked around.  She was wearing a long, loose black dress.  At home, women weren’t permitted to show skin publicly.  Even in her modest clothing, she was drawing eyes.  She smiled. 

“If I’m so captivating in this attire,” she thought, “Imagine how much attention I’ll get once I’m dressed like these women!” 

Short skirts, revealing dresses, high heels. Aisha knew she was beautiful, and once she convinced Omar to let her dress like a true American woman, she knew she could bend any American man to her will.  Before long, her husband would rule the business world while she became a high society woman, living the life of Manhattan’s elite, just like she’d seen in movies.  

That would all take some time, of course.  Tradition said that she wasn’t to have ambition.  Her husband’s role was to provide for her.  Her role was to be the perfect stay at home wife, caring for him and the household, a life of obedience.  She’d talked to Omar about that prior to their move to the US.  He didn’t like the idea of his wife being anything but the obedient housewife, but he understood her desire for more and had agreed they’d see how things went. She just knew she’d be able to convince him to allow her to embrace the lifestyle of the women here.   

They stayed in a beautiful hotel that night. It was the perfect start to their new life.  She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as Omar undressed her, scooping her tiny frame up in his strong arms, laying her down on the hotel bed. She loved the feeling of his powerful body on top of her, his soft lips on her neck.  She had it all – the dreamiest husband deep inside her, a life of freedom and luxury ahead of her. 

The next day, they were driven to their new residence. The home that Omar had picked out for them was beautiful. Omar, dressed in a crisp white shirt and business pants, went to discuss his business ventures while she supervised the removalists. 

This was heaven for Aisha.  She’d never given orders to a man before.  Yet here were these 4 strapping young American men, positioning furniture to her liking, unpacking boxes, Kadıköy travesti asking her questions like “where would you like this chair, ma’am?” 

Just for fun, she decided she wanted the living room furniture rearranged three different times, enjoying the fact that nothing was too much trouble for these men. 

“Yes ma’am!” 

“Of course, ma’am!” 

“Anything else I can do for you, ma’am?” 

By lunch time, the house was perfect.  Omar wouldn’t be home until late afternoon. She walked upstairs, sitting down in the window with her laptop. Omar hadn’t yet agreed to allow her to live like an American woman, but all the household duties had been taken care of by the removalists. Ambition was raging within her.  Before they’d left home, she’d initiated some business opportunities of her own.  Confident Omar would eventually grant her permission to start her new life, she got to work on her own little business. 

Aisha was as smart as she was beautiful, and within 3 hours, she had already had her first customer.  Website design was easy work for her, and she’d learned that in the US, it was easy money.  Even working part time online while keeping the house, she’d be able to earn decent money.  She knew Omar would always provide for her, but if she wanted to be amongst New York’s elite, she’d need her own money on the side. 

Everything was going to plan for Aisha.  She looked out of her window.   

“My Queendom,” she said out loud to herself with a giggle. 

Her eyes spied her neighbour, out checking her mail. 

The woman must have been in her late 20s.   

She was everything forbidden back home. In her hand was a fruity alcoholic drink.  She wore flip flops and a tiny pair of denim shorts that barely covered her ass.  Her flat, toned stomach was on full display, her big breasts concealed only by a powder blue bikini top.  Her bleach blond hair was flowing down her back, and before Aisha knew it, she was staring into the blonde’s piercing blue eyes. 

“You got a problem?” the blonde called out at the top of her voice in her thick New York accent.   

Aisha froze.  For seemingly an eternity. Of course she’d seen women like this on TV… but never has she interacted with one.  Certainly, she’d never had a confrontation with one! 

She slammed her window shut, stepping back, quickly shutting the curtain.  She sat on the bed, breathing heavily.   

It took Aisha a while to gather herself.  Eventually, her breathing slowed. 

“It’s okay, Aisha,” she told herself. “This is America.  Here, SHE’S the normal one.  Go out there and introduce yourself.” 

In her long black flared pants and long-sleeved top, she made her way downstairs.  Part of her was hoping the blonde had already gone back inside.  Her hand was shaking at the thought of introducing herself – but she was determined to first fit in here, then excel here.   

She opened the front door… just in time to see Omar arriving in the back of a black car.  The driver got out, opening the car door for Omar.  Aisha smiled at the sight of her handsome husband, even more so at the fact his American driver was showing him such respect. Omar tipped the driver. 

“Thank you, Sir. Just let me know what time you’d like me to pick you up tomorrow, Sir.” 

She was grinning from ear to ear as the driver offered to carry her husband’s suitcase inside for him.  Omar oozed power as he declined the offer but firmly instructed the driver to be back at 8am.   

But her smile faded quickly when she saw the blonde neighbour walking… no… STRUTTING towards her husband. 

“Hey there, handsome,” she sang. 

She watched Omar’s eyes look the blonde up and down as she approached.  She slowly backed out of the doorway, heading back upstairs, sitting on the bed, waiting for Omar to dismiss their neighbour and come on inside. 

Curiosity got the better of her. She peeled the curtain back just an inch, cracking open the window so she could see and hear the conversation. 

Omar had had his fair share of women.  But never had he stood in the street with a bikini top wearing, big-breasted blonde. He was always so smooth, but the blonde had him off-guard. 

“So what’s with the driver?” the blonde asked. “You don’t have a car?”

Omar shook his head.  “We only arrived here last night.” 

The woman nodded, “By we, you mean you and your weird wife?” 

He chuckled.  “Oh, you’ve met Aisha? Forgive her, this is all very new to her.” 

The blonde scrunched up her face. 

“Aisha?  What kind of a name is that??  No I haven’t met her, she was just staring at me out of her window.” 

Aisha retreated, still able to hear the conversation but not wanting her husband or their neighbour to see her prying.   

“Women… don’t dress like that in our culture,” Omar explained, “I’m sure it’s a little confronting for her.” 

Aisha peeked out of the window to see the blonde stepping right in close to Omar. 

“Oh. I see,” she said, “Is Kadıköy travestileri it confronting for you, too?  Would you like me to… cover up?” 

Aisha gasped as Omar slowly shook his head. 

The blonde gave a giggle that sounded to Aisha like nails on a chalkboard. 

“Well anyway,” the blonde said, “I’m Candace.  And if there’s one thing I know a lot about, it’s luxury cars.  You sure look like you’d be in the market for something… nice.” 

Omar nodded.  “Yes, I’ll be out looking for one on the weekend.” 

Candace smiled. 

“I know just where to go. Saturday morning – I’ll take you!” 

Omar’s eyes fell onto Candace’s big breasts. 

“That sounds great,” he said softly. 

“Then it’s a date,” she sang, turning and walking away, swaying her ass, enjoying knowing that her handsome, wealthy neighbour’s eyes were following her all the way to her front door. 

Aisha’s perfect day had been shattered by the blonde neighbour. Just half an hour ago, she’d been on top of the world. Now, she was sitting with her husband, hardly able to get a word out of him.  His day had been “fine”.  He’d “met some decent people”.   

He seemed tired and distracted, eventually snapping at Aisha.   

“When’s dinner?” 

“Oh ummm, I’ll have it ready in an hour.” 

He rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  I’m going to take a shower.” 

Meanwhile, Candace was on the phone to her bestie. 

“Girllllll!!!!!! So you know the money problems I’ve been having?  Think I solved them!” 

“Fuck yeah bitch! How?” her friend asked. 

“So my new neighbour?  Hot. As. Fuck!  And riiiiiich!  The best part?  His wife is this little Arab weirdo who isn’t allowed to show any skin.  I was in my bikini top and little shorts when I met him.  He got a hard-on right there in his driveway. Girl, check out his name. OMAR!  Hot right?!  Candace and Omar go good together, don’t ya think?” 

Her friend was giggling. “Get that bag, girl.” 

“I’m taking him to that luxury car show on Saturday. Took me like 5 minutes to get a date with him ha ha.  I’m gonna blow his mind!” 

“Bitch”, her friend laughed, “If I know you, you’re going to blow more than just his mind.” 

Candace burst out laughing.  “Hey – someone’s gotta welcome him to America properly.” 

Aisha tried to put Candace out of her mind.  This was America.  Her husband was going to meet American women.  Besides, he wasn’t the only one getting attention.  When she’d go out for her morning coffee, she was treated like royalty by American men, even in her modest black attire.  She could see them melt when they’d look into her deep, dark eyes.  She could see them mentally peeling back her dark clothes.  She’d already learned that a smile was enough to secure free coffee. 

Also, just three days in, her website design business was thriving.  She still needed to maintain the house, but all her free time was spent building her business.  She’d made more money in three days than she would have in a month back home.   

And Omar had been better the last couple of days.  He told her all about how he was lining up his business in multiple states.  How he already had people working for him.  How he was meeting lots of new, interesting people.  On Friday night, they made love. Omar made her feel like the only woman in the world.   

But Saturday would come. 

“The neighbour is taking me to look at some cars,” he said. 

“I don’t know about her,” she said softly. 

Omar gave her a stern look. 

“Candace is harmless,” he said, “It’ll just take you some time to get used to American women and their customs.” 

She nodded.  Jealousy, she knew, was not an emotion Omar approved of.  Back home, she’d had no reason to ever be envious.  But she’d never had to watch her man being flirted with by a bikini wearing blonde.  The doorbell rang, and the couple kissed. 

“Come say hi,” Omar said, “You’ll see that she’s just friendly.” 

Candace stood in their doorway.  She wore a tight red dress that showed off her cleavage, Aisha’s eyes immediately drawn to her heaving breasts.  Her blonde hair framed her pretty face, and while Aisha couldn’t take her eyes off the blonde’s chest, Omar’s eyes roamed down her dress.  It cut off at mid-thigh, showing off her tanned, shapely legs.  On black heels, she almost met the 6 foot 2 Omar’s height.  Aisha was tiny in comparison, and when Candace stepped forward, her breasts almost brushed Aisha’s face. 

“Shall we?” she asked, linking arms with Omar.   

“This is my wife, Aisha,” he said. 

“Hi,” the smaller woman said, outstretching her hand. 

Candace took it.  Holding it.  Looking down at Aisha.  Aisha felt ridiculous.  Shaking hands with this smiling blonde who had her husband on her arm.   

“It’s nice to meet you, Aisha,” Candace said with a hint of condescension in her voice. 

“Likewise,” Aisha said in a voice that came out as almost a squeak. 

Aisha fumed, watching Candace walking so close Travesti kadıköy to her husband towards the car, the driver opening the back door, Candace climbing in.  Omar went around to the other side of the car.  Candace rolled down the window, giving Aisha a big smile and a blowing her a kiss as the car started down the road. 

While Aisha tidied the house, constantly wondering how things were going with Candace and her husband, Candace was wasting no time flirting with Omar.  Flirting was the blonde’s greatest strength, and she knew it.  She was constantly smiling, always laughing and reaching over to touch Omar’s arm whenever he made a joke, crossing and uncrossing her flawless legs.   

“So, what do you do for work?” Omar asked. 

“Oh… not much. I work part time at a bar.  But I’m more… a lady of leisure.  Working isn’t really my thing… I prefer to have fun.” 

Omar liked the sound of that.  In truth, he was getting a little annoyed at Aisha’s wish to become more than a housewife.  It was a man’s job to work and provide for the family.  It was a woman’s job to keep the house… or in Candace’s case, enjoy her life. 

When they got to the car show, Candace was in her element. The handsome, clearly wealthy Omar and his busty blonde date drew the attention of the dealers.  While people queued up to sit in the latest Lamborghini or Ferrari, Omar and Candace were ushered to the front of the queue. 

Omar had planned to get a luxury mini-van. He and Aisha would start a family soon, and they’d need a car with plenty of space.  But sitting there in these luxury sports cars with the playful blonde, he began to reconsider. 

“Now THIS,” Candace said, “You’d look GOOD in this.” 

Omar wouldn’t be going home in a mini-van.  He’d be going home in a sporty two door BMW.   

Candace loved how easily she’d convinced Omar to buy a car SHE liked.  Sitting in the passenger seat next to the driving Omar, she decided to take things a little further. 

“You know what you need?” she smiled at him. “A watch.” 

He looked at her. “You think.” 

She nodded, reaching over and tracing her manicured fingers over his wrist. “Gold against this dark skin… mmmm.” 

Omar smiled.  Candace was FUN – and he did like the idea of spoiling himself with a piece of jewellery.  He allowed Candace to direct them to a jewellery store, where she picked out a watch for him. 

While he was getting ready to pay, Candace called to him. 

“Omar… do you think this looks good on me?” 

He walked over to her, Candace tracing her fingers over a white-gold necklace she was trying on, moving her finger over her cleavage to the beautiful diamond that hung on the necklace between her breasts. 

Omar stared.  “It looks… amazing…” he breathed, adding, “How much is it?” 

Candace stepped right into him, bringing her lips to his ear. 

“Does that matter?” she asked seductively. 

This was just too easy for Candace.  She was back in the front seat of the BMW, an expensive diamond necklace around her neck. 

“Let’s stop for a drink somewhere,” she said, “I know a great bar.” 

Omar shook his head.  “I don’t drink.” 

But Candace persisted. “But I do. And here in America, finishing a date with a drink is… customary…” 

Omar desperately wanted to spend more time with Candace.  But he again shook his head. 

“It’s getting late,” he said, “Aisha will have dinner almost ready…” 

Candace giggled.  “In your culture… doesn’t your wife basically have to do as you say?” she asked. 

Omar nodded.  “Sort of, yes.” 

“Then,” she breathed, “You’ll make her wait.” 

Aisha was at home, trying to keep Omar’s dinner warm without drying it out, while he was sat at a table in an upscale bar, new BMW in the parking lot, new watch on his wrist, blonde bombshell across the table from him, staring into his eyes. 

She ordered a bottle of wine, and, stretching under the table to run her foot over Omar’s leg, she encouraged him to take a sip.   

As big and strong as Omar was, he wasn’t used to alcohol.   

“Does your wife have any jewellery as nice as this?” Candace asked, running her fingers over her necklace. 

Omar shook his head.  “No. Her wedding ring, maybe.” 

“Are you glad you bought it for me?” she teased, foot gliding up his leg. 

“Yes,” he said under his breath, “It suits you.” 

When they returned to the car, Omar’s one drink had rendered him unable to drive.  Candace was all too happy to take the keys.  She sped through the streets, Omar relishing the excitement of this curvaceous blonde. She was fun.  Dangerous.  Nothing like the women back home. 

And yet, when they arrived outside his house, he managed to resist Candace’s invitation to come to her house. 

“My wife is inside – and I’m late,” he said. 

Candace nodded, leaving him with a long hug, pressing her ample breasts into him. 

“Say hi to Aisha for me,” she whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek, parting the hug, and skipping towards her front door. 

Aisha felt horrible.  She could SMELL Candace on her man.  She looked at his new watch.  Spied the two door BMW on the driveway.  She knew Candace had influenced her man.  But she also knew better than to play the jealous housewife.