tagMind ControlA Few Minor Adjustments Ch. 03

A Few Minor Adjustments Ch. 03

byProfessor_XXX©

We spent Saturday shopping at the high-end mall and played grab-ass around the concourses like a couple of teenagers. Stephanie picked out some expensive things at Victoria's Secret and some intentionally cheap things at Fredrick's of Hollywood and teased me with many other things she tried on at both.

She wouldn't let me know what she purchased. We'd each grab an armful of pieces that she'd take into the changing room and close the door behind her. I'd watch her feet and see the delicacies puddle on the floor. She opened the door occasionally and let me see a corset or bustier or garter belt and ask my opinion. Every once in a while she peeked around the door to see if the attendant was there.

"Want to come in here and help me out?" she asked with a mischievous grin. "You can stand in one of these bags and they'll think you left me to my own devices."

"After this morning's--activities--I'm not sure I'd be much use to you."

"You're no fun," she pouted, and closed the door again. She gave me a good look at her ass as the door hit it on the way back.

When she had made her choices she sent me out of the store so that I could be surprised when she put them to their intended uses, and I went out and looked at the miserable guys being dragged around the mall by their wives and remarked again on how lucky I was, and how I had made my own luck, just a little. Stephanie was on-air talent at a local television station and had a pretty generous wardrobe allowance, so she was more free to take advantage of our own clothes budget for fun things. Usually, though, they were expensive jeans and billowy sweaters.

When we had piled our treasures into the car to go home, Stephanie gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, no!" she said. "I think I left one of the bags behind. Can you wait here while I check?"

I was famished from all the activity on only a half-eaten croissant and a couple sips of coffee. "I'll be right here," I said.

She gave me a kiss on the neck and whispered into my ear, "I can still taste you on my tongue." Then she fled across the parking lot.

I let her rush back through the doors and went over to a hot dog stand and inhaled one with everything. I had just finished wiping my hands on my jeans when she came back out a different door. She had tucked her purse under her arm and was holding it close and closed.

"False alarm," she said. She gave me a peck on the cheek and pressed her other hand against my burgeoning cock and slid into the passenger's seat.

I was worried that my work had the effect of turning Stephanie into an incorrigible tease. She didn't wear anything special to bed that night, or Sunday. She was more aware of my eyes on her during the day. She worked the Sunday crossword with her pen in her mouth, running her tongue around the circumference and sucking on the tip, but came to bed in a long t-shirt. She rubbed her ass against my groin in the grocery store, but gave my dick only a firm squeeze before rolling over and falling asleep.

There are a lot of good things about being a professor in a college town. One is that you have hundreds of young co-eds arriving on campus every fall, and most of them are coming into their own and putting themselves on display. Another is that the early summers are slow. When I went into work on Monday I talked to my colleague in Psychology about side effects of hypnosis, and all he could tell me was that the effects were sometimes unpredictable. He said that it sometimes take multiple sessions with even a willing subject to get the desired results. I was worried that I might have to revise my plan, but also knew that I should give Stephanie a little more time to settle into my changes. I wanted to help my wife develop a healthy sexual appetite and a more varied diet, not turn her into an insatiable nymphomaniac.

I came home at the usual time and wasn't surprised to find Stephanie's car absent from the driveway. She usually worked out at the gym after work. She had left that morning wearing a tight black pencil skirt and dark red heels with a white blouse that showed the texture of her lace bra if you were looking but wouldn't show up on-camera. She called it professionally sexy. She was working on some nonsense human interest story that drove her nuts but paid the bills. I thought I might put her back into her trance and lead her upstairs and push that pencil skirt up to her waist when she came home, even if she was fragrant from the gym.

I hung up my coat and satchel without even looking around. I was going to go relax with a drink and watch television when I noticed Stephanie standing quietly in the kitchen. Although "noticed" might not be strong enough of a word.

Her hair was lightly curled and spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Her bangs swept across her forehead above her eyes, sparkling with lust. She wore the pearl necklace that I'd given her as a wedding present around her neck and the earrings I'd given her on our first anniversary. She'd tied a white apron around her neck and tightly around her waist, but nothing was under it. The outline of her erect nipples puckered the cotton across her chest. The apron ended at the top of her thighs, where high white stockings began. They rested snugly across the middle of her thigh by a cuff of white lace, and tapered down her legs to white, four-inch, open-toed heels. I thought twice about that instinct not to remake her into a nymphomaniac.

My mouth gaped open, at a loss for words. She brought her finger up to her rouged lips and pressed it against them. The only sound was the click of her heels as she walked toward me.

"I skipped the gym this week," she kissed into my ear. My hard dick pushed against my slacks and into the firm fabric of her apron. "You're going to have to work me out."

She kissed my neck and pulled my tie, lowering herself down so that her face was in front of the bulging crotch of my pants, squatting in front of me. Slowly, she lowered my fly. I could feel the pull of each tooth on my zipper as she inched it down. She licked her lips when my cock fell out, nearly grazing her nose.

"Mmm..." she said, her not breath washing over my engorged prick. She held herself upright with her hands on my hips, and pulled me into her mouth.

She wasn't teasing, she took the whole thing in down to the base. The head of my cock slid past her soft palette and down her throat. Her nose buried in my pubic hair, and her breath was hot against my slacks and pelvis. She moved both her head and my hips, engulfing me in her warm, wet mouth. She ran her tongue around my shaft as she fucked my cock with her face.

I put my hands in her hair, pulling it away in two handfuls so I could see her eyes looking up at me. Soon she closed her eyes and let me take control of her, pushing her face onto my dick. She moved her free hands under her apron, rubbing her pussy while I fucked her face. Soon I couldn't tell whether she was grunting and mumbling to encourage my efforts or because she was enjoying her own.

A glow of sweat started to form on her forehead and I finally pulled her off my cock. She was sucking so hard the head of my dick popped out. She looked up at me and licked her lips again.

"Enough play," I said, and lifted her by her upper arms and pushed her into the kitchen. I started to lower the knot of my tie and unbutton my shirt.

"Please don't," she said over the click of her heels. Her apron was lightly pleated where it had folded over her knees. She turned around and pressed her naked back against me. In her heels her ass rose right against my dick, and I nestled into the cleft. "I can't wait anymore. I need you inside me."

She ground her ass against me and I pushed her waist onto the ledge of our kitchen island. I leaned her over it and kicked her feet apart. The apron billowed away from her body, and the string pressed into the skin of her neck and upper back. I kissed below the ties of the apron and roughly grabbed at her breasts beneath the canvas, pushing her into the block with the weight of my body.

With one hand I continued kneading the flesh of her breast and with the other I reached between her legs. Stephanie had always kept herself closely trimmed, but I found that she'd shaved herself bare since our weekend adventure in the shower. She was completely smooth, and sopping wet.

Stephanie isn't the only one who likes to tease. Usually I like to work her up into a lather with my hands before fucking her. But feeling her bare pussy flipped a switch inside me. I spread her lips and plunged two fingers into her snatch. She grunted into the kitchen island--which had become our island--with pleasure. I pressed the tip of my thumb against her asshole as I stood up and pushed her more solidly into the block.

"Please," she said.

I pushed my cock into her until the teeth of my zipper pressed against the skin of her ass. After so many years together, it's incredible that a pussy can feel new. She was slick with lust and effort, but she was tight and the muscles in her pussy gripped me. Her back muscles tensed with the effort of accommodating me, and I rested a moment, enjoying the warm, wet, tight space.

"Fuck me," she said. She pushed her hands against the unfinished wood, pressing her ass against me.

I thrust into her over and over. Stephanie let the solid island bear her weight. I grabbed her hips and watched my cock disappear into her depths as I fucked her. It was impossible, but it felt like I was going deeper into her every time. She widened her legs to give me better access to her pussy.

Her bangs matted with sweat from our exertions, and her hands had moved from the top of the block to the sides, where they held on white-knuckled. "Oh, fuck... It feels so good to have you inside me!" she said. Her back was slick from effort. "Don't stop... please..." she said.

I had no intentions to. Her arms and legs were tense, and her pussy had tensed, as well. It felt more and more tight the more I fucked her, and I had to push harder to stay inside her. I leaned back to watch her and massaged her asshole with my thumb.

"Yes... That feels right..." She pushed back against the tip of my thumb, and it slipped inside her. "Oh!" she screamed. "Oh, God." She bucked against me. I could feel the veins of my cock against the tip of my thumb, and pressed a little deeper into her--up to the first knuckle. "Fuck--" she breathed into the wood. She pushed against it, lifting her shoulders off the block.

"Not until I say," I said, removing my thumb from her ass and pushing her back. I grabbed the outside of her thigh with one hand and her hair with the other and drove into her more. The cuffs of her stockings bunched under the palm of my hand. I began to feel the tide of my orgasm riding up inside me.

I wanted her close when she came and I came inside her. I plowed into her several more times, and her legs lifted off the floor finally with the effort of our fucking. Finally I pulled out of her, my cock wet with her passion. I pulled her to her feet, her heels clicking back onto the tile.

"Please, please finish me," she said. She pushed her ass back against me, urging me back inside her.

"You're going to get yours," I said. "Turn to me."

She did, and I pushed her back against the block, sitting her on top of it with her ass dangling just over the edge. I had perfect access to her pussy, and I plunged it back inside her. She gasped into my ear.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby?" I asked.

"Oh... oh... I want to," she said. She lifted her knees and hooked the heels of her shoes under my belt. Her voice was rising in pitch and volume as I worked her.

"This is what you get when you get me all worked up. You've been needing a good fucking."

"Yes... I've needed this..." she said, gasping. I pulled her hair and her head snapped back. She yelped, but her hand went behind my back and pulled me deeper into her. She humped me as much as her precarious placement on the counter would allow.

I kissed her neck and picked up my pace. The last few years Stephanie and I had done some love-making, but very little fucking. There was no question as to what we were doing here. I banged into her as hard as I could, burying my cock inside her again and again. The head of my cock battered the firm flesh of her cervix. She was the one now at a loss for words, screaming into the ceiling, begging for release. Finally her whole body went tense and still as the orgasm washed over her.

Her pussy clenched on my cock and I could no longer move in or out, but at that same time my own orgasm crested and broke against the walls of my wife's pussy. I could feel my balls emptying into her as her fingernails dug into my shoulders and her legs held me close against my body.

I held her as her body first shuddered and then relaxed, and my dick finished unloading into her. She unfolded her arms and legs from mine. I pulled out of her, my wet cock still turgid in the cool air.

She brushed her hair out of her face. "Wait one more second," she said, tugging at my belt. She pulled the string on the back of her apron, and it pooled on the ground at her feet. She knelt on it, bringing her face close to my dick. "These cost one hundred and twenty-five dollars," she said, tugging her stockings back into place and protecting her knees with the puddled apron.

Her eyes locked on mine, she licked me from base to tip, slurping the head into her mouth, and taking it--again--all the way down to the base. Pulled it back up and took my shaft between her fingers, carefully kissing and licking around the glans and down each vein. She sipped both of our juices off me, until I was clean. Then she tucked me back into my pants, slowly closing the zipper. Ached with each notch as the teeth enclosed my dick again.

"We taste good together," she said.

She stood up again, collecting the apron and kissing me. She tied the apron around my waist, hiding the stain that her cum had left on my fly. "I'm still hungry," she said.

"I'll make dinner."

"I'll clean up." She clicked out of the kitchen and to the stairs. As she started climbing, she turned around, sticking out her ass and letting me see the thin drizzle of my cum leaking out of her. "Make something fast," she said. "Nicole is coming over for dinner in twenty minutes."

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