Category Archives: Wife

Rick’s Wife part 2 of 6

As before these are my friend's story

Rick's WIFE 2 (2 of 6)

10:00 p.m. and waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting…
They were probably done with dinner by now and maybe even out on
the dance floor. Every 10 or 15 minutes I found myself looking at
my watch and conjuring up new images, new snippets of
conversation… Were they talking about me? What exactly was
Linda telling him about our relationship, our marriage? Whatever
the details, I just knew it centered on sex.
I'd successfully fought off the urge to masturbate. Right now,
though, I decided to change my underwear. After repeated
tumescence, they were sticky with pre-cum.
God, this was the weirdest conglomeration of competing
emotions I'd ever felt. One moment I felt like jumping in my car
and hitting the nightspots to look for them. I had no idea what
I'd do if I found them, however. Probably just watch them
discreetly from a distance. Every once in a while a wave of anger
and jealousy would roll over me, though, and I'd fantasize about
marching up and confronting them. Those feelings would slowly melt
away and be replaced by a very profound lust. One side put an edge
on the other and made each emotion sharper and more defined; more
REAL than feelings I'd had in a long time.
In the back of my brain, a part of my mind started to wonder,
just wonder mind you, about the source and intensity of the turn-
on. In our bondage games, Linda was always the submissive.
Submission had never been a part of my erotic dreams or fantasies.
Was it possible that, in allowing this to happen, I was indirectly
submitting to both Linda and her date? Or even further, that I was
somehow submitting directly to HIM, with her as the intermediary or
offering if you will? Were there, god forbid, homosexual
undertones here? You know, like subconsciously making love to him
through my wife? Okay, I'll admit, since I'm being perfectly frank
here, that on a couple occasions I'd fantasized about sucking cock.
(I'm STRAIGHT, alright!?) I hadn't gone very far with that
particular mastabatory thread, though, and it had been quite a few
years ago. I'm not going to posture and spout any of that
homophobic shit. I despise it. But, on the other hand, I've never
gotten an erection looking at naked men. Just the opposite. It's
the quickest way I know to get rid of one.
10:05. Well, time's just flying by and I've come up with a
ream of insights into this whole thing. Jesus, sometimes my lack
of self-awareness scares even me. I grabbed the latest copy of
Time magazine and lay down on the couch in my den and tried to
read, every once in a while rubbing my throbbing, painfully hard
cock with the heel of my palm. I looked over at the clock on my
desk.
10:10. Next to the clock was a picture of Linda taken a few
years ago by a photographer friend. An "artsy" black and white of
just her face and her long black hair cascading over her shoulder.
Whenever I look at Linda for a long time and have to describe her,
the best I can come up with is a "fawn." Everyone we meet say she
reminds them of Audrey Hepburn (no, it's before my time, but I HAVE
seen her movies). I know I'm a pretty lucky guy to be married to
her. In my mind's eye, the picture transformed from a demure smile
to one of lust. Open mouth, head thrown back, sweat dripping, eyes
unfocused……..
I woke with a start and immediately checked out my new friend,
the clock. 2:30 a.m. I stumbled up, made sure the porch and
entrance light were on, then went upstairs. Taking my clothes off,
I climbed into bed and collapsed. Pornographic visions danced in
my brain.
I heard a noise and jerked up on my elbow. I was fully awake
in an instant. Pretty shallow sleep, I guess. Footsteps coming up
the stairway. I glanced at the alarm clock. 4:30 a.m. I lay back
down, feigning sleep, but with a good enough angle to see out of
the corner of my eye.
Linda came around the corner and stopped at the bathroom
entrance. She looked my way for a brief moment. Her hair was up
(the way she wears it when she "can't do anything with it"). She
went in the bathroom and closed the door. The water ran for what
seemed like an eternity. The door opened and I closed my eyes. I
felt the bed move as she sat next to me and her hand rested on my
shoulder.
"Peter?"
I opened my eyes and looked up at her.
"Hi," I managed. "What time is it?"
"Late, darling." She stroked my forehead and climbed in next
to me. She was still fully clothed. Neither Linda nor I smoked,
but I could smell the odor of stale cigarettes in her hair. I
wondered what "his" brand was.
Suddenly, her hand went down under the covers and grabbed my
iron-hard cock. The coolness of her hand was electrifying.
"Are you mad at me, darling?" she asked quietly.
"Hell no," I said with a grin. "But I will be if you don't
spit out every detail of what happened, right now!" Reassured, she
snuggled in closer and I pulled the blanket over both of us.
Suddenly, while rhythmically pumping my cock, she leaned over and
kissed me full on the mouth. I returned it with passion. It was
all wet and tongue and she tasted of sex and wine.
"You're missing an ear-ring," I said when she pulled back.
"Oh, shit!" she said grabbing at her naked earlobe.
"So?" I said, raising my eyebrows.
She looked at me with a gleam in her eye.
"Well, I'm afraid I've been a naughty girl tonight."
I ran my hand down her back and over her thighs and buttocks.
no underwear.
"They got a little messy, so I had to get rid of them," she
grimaced.
As she stroked my erection, the following story emerged:
Linda had met him at the restaurant for cocktails and a light
supper. They'd talked mostly about work at first, but the
conversation had inevitably led to his ex-wife and to me. She'd
flirted relentlessly with him, firing off a long series of
innuendos and suggestions. He'd been fast on the uptake and
quickly responded in kind. She noticed that his eyes kept
wandering to her nipples that were nicely outlined by her silk
blouse.
After dinner, they'd driven in separate cars to a small club
on the west side. They started dancing, and he'd been a gentleman
at first, but after Linda had started rubbing the upper part of her
hip against his groin, things got a bit more raunchy.
"God, that feels pretty nice." she'd whispered in his ear
after letting her hand drop down between them and into his crotch.
The rubbing and grinding had gotten a little too hot, and they'd
gone back to the table.
At one point, near closing time, and Linda herself can hardly
believe she did this, she had reached under the table and under her
skirt. Pulling her panties aside, she'd pushed her middle finger
deep into her soaking cunt. Bringing it out, she'd put it to his
lips and let him lick it clean, all the while keeping their eyes
locked.
They left his car in the parking lot and took hers to his
apartment. She had asked him to drive and as they made their way
to his place, had reached over, unzipped his pants and pulled his
cock out. Leaning over, she had swirled her tongue around the tip
to savored the taste of his pre-cum. "Do you suck your husband's
cock like this?" he had asked distractedly, trying to concentrate
on the road. Her mouth full, my wife didn't answer.
It was at this point that I exploded all over Linda's hand and
my belly. My cock now well lubricated with gobs of sticky cum, she
continued to stroke it slowly. As she went on with the story, I
was very quickly hard again.
Once inside his apartment, his whole personality had changed.
The "gentleman" was gone. He had forced her onto her knees,
unzipped his pants and, looming over her, pulled his erect penis
out. She reached up to take it in her slender hands, but he had
pushed them away.
"Just suck it. Use your mouth. You don't need your hands."
She had tried the best she could, but although he was about my
length, he had been much thicker around. She had worked her mouth
over the bulging crown and gotten it to the back of her throat and
had started working her tongue and lips when, suddenly, he had
tensed and actually started coming!
She hadn't expected it so soon, had gagged, and a lot of it
had dribbled from the corner of her stretched lips. (I had noticed
some suspicious stains down the front of her blouse). She had done
her best to swallow what she could manage. It had been slightly
sweet with a hint, she could have sworn, of almonds, rather than
the "salt-water" taste of mine.
"Your husband has a very nice little cock-sucker for a wife.
I hope he appreciates you," he had said, while wiping the few
dribbles of cum from his cock that Linda had missed.
They had sat on the couch and talked for a few minutes, and he
was soon very hard indeed again. He had taken his pants and shorts
off. He stood my wife up in front of his couch and made her bend
over at the waist with her arms on the back and her feet spread as
wide as she could manage. He had hiked her dress up over her waist
and pulled her panties off. His big cock had entered her from
behind with little resistance.
She described the fuck as brutal and hard. (While the words
said one thing, the dreamy inflection of her voice told her real
experience of it). He had reached around with one hand and forced
his three middle fingers into her mouth, holding her tongue and
lower jaw between the fingers and his thumb. While it hadn't been
painful, Linda described it as a very dominant and sexy action.
The other hand had been busily changing between working her clit
and squeezing her small breasts.
As he fucked deep into my wife, and while holding her violated
mouth open, he had whispered in her ear.
"This is for your husband. And this, pretty little cunt, is
for you," he whispered as he banged even harder into her hole.
The fuck had been long and hard. She had come 4 or five
times, she couldn't remember, and her legs were almost giving out
when he finally came and sprayed her cunt with semen.
They didn't talk much after that. He'd offered to let her
spend the night, but she had declined. After cleaning up as best
she could, she had driven straight home.
I reached over and pulled her black skirt up. She scooted
underneath me and spread her legs wide. Even in the semi-light of
our bedroom, I could see that the lips of her pussy were red and
swollen.
"It's okay, darling. It's a little sensitive down there, but
if you take it easy on me at first, it won't be a problem," she
said.
She was probably the "loosest" and wettest I'd ever
experienced in 8 years of marriage, and even though I knew my cock
was sliding in my wife's juices mixed with a stranger's spunk, I
didn't care a bit. As I pumped her slowly and lovingly, our eyes
locked.
Before I came again, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I
remembered that this was only the first "part" of her fantasy and,
supposedly, the tamest part.

God help me.

Rick’s Wife 3 of 6

My friend's story

Rick's WIFE 3 (3 of 6)
For several weeks, our life went on pretty much as normal.
Linda had resisted my attempts to have HIM identified. My feelings
had been a little hurt since I felt that her reticence implied that
I somehow could not be trusted to let the incident drop. I think
I could have gotten her to tell me if I had been more persistent,
but I had suddenly realized that his anonymity contributed to the
eroticism of the fantasy for me, and I stopped pushing the issue.
As for Linda, it took a few days for me to fully convince her
that not only was everything alright between us, but that I had
immensely enjoyed the game. She had offered to stop now rather
than risk any problems between us, but I had reassured her that it
had been a tremendous turn-on for me. Our mutual understanding was
that there had been no loving at all, only sex, between them. I
told her that I was ready for "part two." Grinning, she had
squeezed my buttocks, winked, and said, "You think so, huh?" Jeez!
On a Thursday night, about three weeks after the "fling," as
we euphemistically referred to it, Linda was washing some pots and
pans while I dried.
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pressed her up
against the sink, and gently began to move my hips and groin
against her bottom. As ever, she pushed her buttocks back against
me and followed my rolling, grinding motion (I believe that
kitchens were created by god for this particular kind of play. The
preparation of food, etc., is only a secondary function).
"I need you to stop at the store on your way home from work
tomorrow," she said.
"Sure. What do we need?" My cock was rigid and rubbing
firmly in the crack of her ass. I had stopped moving, but she had
continued the motion, rising on her toes and then slowly settling
down. I cupped her breasts from the outside of her t-shirt.
"A bag of cotton balls, some masking tape and a few other odds
and ends," she said matter-of-factly.
My ears suddenly pricked up. It was not lost on me that the
"fling" had happened on a Friday. Three weeks ago to the day, in
fact. But cotton balls and masking tape? Bondage….? We already
had a small stash of "restraining" toys. Hmmm. Interesting.
I turned her around and held her by her shoulders.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a little surprise
you might have in store for me tomorrow, would it?" I asked.
"Darling, if I told you the truth, you wouldn't get a good
night's sleep. You're like a child on Christmas Eve."
She was right. I didn't.
I didn't accomplish a damn thing at work on Friday. I had
butterflies in my stomach for most of the day. I left a little
early (boss' prerogative), and made it home by 6:15 after stopping
for the "items" needed.
Linda's car was in the driveway. So she was home this time.
Opening the front door, I stepped in and looked around. The house
was immaculate. Since Linda and I were both professionals and had
little time for housework, we employed a cleaning service during
the week. But when she did have the time, Linda was meticulous in
her work. This was her doing. There was a gorgeous flower
arrangement on the living room mantle and a roaring fire below.
Linda stepped around the corner and smiled.
She took my breath away. She wore a full length powder-blue
evening dress that was dangerously low-cut, her best pearl
necklace, heels and a pretty white bow in her hair. She ran and
hugged me like we hadn't seen each other in a month. We kissed
like newlyweds.
"Hi, sexy!" she said with a grin.
"Darling, I'm absolutely stunned. You've outdone yourself.
"Well, it did take a little work. I'll take that bag.
Everything's here?"
"Everything you ordered."
"Dinner will be ready by the time you finish showering. Don't
dress up when you're done. Wear your normal slobbish attire."
I grinned. "As opposed to YOUR normal, slobbish attire?" I
asked, taking another look at my gorgeous wife.
"Just do as you're told tonight, Peter. Be a good boy."
She hugged me again, and whispered "I love you" in my ear.
"I love you, too." I said, and went up to shower.
I quickly showered, put on a pair of corduroy slacks, a
sweater and my loafers. We dined on poached salmon with dill sauce
accompanied by an extra-fine German white. Dessert was a simple
bowl of chilled, fresh raspberries in cream. I poured myself a
brandy, and we moved to the living room.
I settled on the couch and began to sip the 50 year old
liqueur. Linda sat on the floor between my feet with her legs
curled up under her.
"Well," I said. "I'm coming to appreciate your fantasies more
each time."
"I'm glad, sweetheart. There's a bit more to come, though.
You may want to withhold judgement until the end of the night."
The brandy's golden burn in my throat and stomach had begun to
relax every muscle in my body. I felt ready for anything.
"We need to talk, dear," she said suddenly. Uh-oh.
"You do remember our understanding and agreement, don't you?
This is my fantasy, and I expect you to cooperate in every way."
She moved up to her knees to look into my eyes.
"Whatever happens, remember that I love you, and ONLY you,"
she said slowly, those emerald green eyes boring into my soul.
"Remember to relax, to let things play out. Most of all, you must
do as you're told. Do you understand and agree?"
Here come the butterflies. "Yes, babe. This is your night.
Let's be decadent and naughty," I said, holding her hands in mine.
She looked searchingly into my eyes for a long time. I think
she found the trust that was there and that she was looking for,
because she smiled, rose and kissed me on the forehead.
"Don't move. I'll be right back." she said lightly.
She returned a moment later with a blindfold, the cotton, and
the tape.
"You're not going to be able to see anything that happens
tonight. I know how visually stimulated you are. I'm sorry, but
I'm hoping that, if things work out like I think they will, you
won't miss your eye-sight." She placed the cotton gently over my
eyes, then the blindfold. The cotton cut off that little area just
under my eyes along the bridge of my nose that I had always been
able to peek through before. The tape held the blindfold and
cotton firmly in place.
"Your brandy snifter is full. Relax and enjoy it. Let me
know if you need a visit to the restroom, and I'll help you." She
snickered. "Things should begin in about 10 minutes, as soon as
our guests arrive."
"Guests? Did you say guests? I'm sure I distinctly heard you
say 'guests.'"
"That's right. Guests. You know, like in visitors. Now
relax. Gee, I wonder what's going to happen?"
I grinned. "You are the naughtiest, most conniving little
tease!"
The "guests" must have been early, because the doorbell rang.
Linda leaned down and whispered, "Enjoy, babe. Remember that I'm
still your wife tomorrow and after."
I heard her move to the door and open it. Muffled voices.
Footsteps. Two pair? Three? Movement around me. Other noises.
Then quiet. A cough. A male cough. Thank God for the brandy!
I felt amazingly comfortable considering I was sitting blindfolded
in front of total stranger(s) in my own home.
"Good evening, Peter. It's a pleasure to meet you, although
these are somewhat interesting circumstances. My name is William."
His voice was very deep. It had that self-assured quality I
associate with my peers who have, and are used to wielding, power.
"I've had the pleasure of meeting your wife once before, but
I can assure you it was a purely friendly meeting. In fact, it was
to arrange this little get together. By the way, there are four
people in this room. You, your wife, myself and my wife. My
wife's name is Breigha. While it makes little difference what my
profession is, I can tell you that my wife is a very good
photographer, and that she has all of her equipment here tonight."
"The details of how and why your wife contacted us are also of
little relevance. I assume Linda will answer all your questions at
a later time."
"So. Where to begin? I am here at your wife's bequest. It
appears that we are going to get somewhat friendly and intimate
over the next few hours. I understand that you will cooperate and
do as you're told. I appreciate that and will expect it from you
and from Linda. Our first ground rule is that no-one, other than
myself, will speak in this room unless spoken to first. Do we have
agreement?" I nodded. I heard Linda say "yes."
"Good. Your wife has determined the general outline of what
will happen tonight. I have a very deep appreciation for her
imagination, as well as for her good looks and intelligence.
You're a lucky man, Peter. What she has not determined, however,
are the many details that, as I'm sure you realize being the
professional you are, make all the difference. In that respect,
she will be as much in the dark, so to speak, as you." Ha. Funny.
"Good. The "general outline" is as follows. First,
everything that takes place will be photographed by my wife in
great detail for your and Linda's viewing pleasure down the years,
although I would suggest keeping it out of the family album." The
guy was a riot.
"That is the extent of my wife's participation. Second, I am
going to make love to your wife, Peter. It will be an honor and a
pleasure, I assure you. Your job, tonight, is to assist me. Not
to participate, per se, but to make Linda more "available," more
"easily accessible," shall we say. Things will become clearer, I
promise. I must tell you that although I consider myself bisexual,
there will be no direct sexual activity, as such, between you and
I. At least hardly any."
Right. THAT statement took the ambiguous prize.
"Thirdly, your wife has requested that I use graphic and
explicit language. She is, as many people are, aroused by it. But
you know that. I only mention it so that you aren't shocked."
"Finally, Linda here has pretty much given me free reign as
far as the kinds of pleasantries we will indulge in. 'Anything
goes,' I believe were your words, yes?"
"Yes," I heard Linda say. Her voice had a quiver in it.
"I'm glad. I think I'm going to enjoy this as much as you and
Peter. We all understand, then, that this is purely a little
sexual adventure for everyone. That afterward, my wife and I
return to our world, and both of you to yours. I do not expect
either of you to ever contact us again. Although that may be a
shame, it's necessary. On a final note before we begin, I have to
tell you that I have rarely met a woman more in love with her
husband than Linda is with you. Did you know that, Peter? How
much she loves you?"
I nodded, a little embarassed and not knowing if anyone was
even looking at me.
"All right. Breigha, darling, you may begin setting up.
Linda, would you be so kind as to fetch me a glass of scotch? Just
a little ice, please. Thank you. Are you comfortable, Peter?"
"I'm okay," I mumbled. I could feel the heat from the
fireplace as various sounds I interpreted as "camera setting up"
noises came from the other side of the living room. I had heard
Linda pick up my empty snifter beside me and, as she passed by, she
had put her hand on mine for the briefest of moments. The alcohol
put me in a mellow haze, made time slow down, and made the
acceptance of what was about to happen much easier than if I had
not been drinking.
Well, I thought, drop your socks and grab your …. Here we
go on another lovely little roller-coaster ride.