A Husband's Story of Woe

"I'm sorry," I looked away embarrassed.

"Don't be, it was sexy," she smiled. "Everything was sexy."

I bit my lip, it was now or never, though it hadn't even dawned on me that never was an option.

"Would you," I smiled at her, "do that for me?"

"No," she shook her head quickly.

I pressed her as to why not and she kept saying she wouldn't feel right. She was brought up that women were men's equals and that flew in the face of it. It wouldn't turn her on at all, no matter how much it turned me on she professed.

"You now how you think it would be hot to see me with another girl," she held my hand, "but you wouldn't consider being with another man? That's kind of how this feels to me."

There it was. Never was an option. I could tell she meant it too.

For a while we went about our lives as normal.

Then the economy went bad and I had the unfortunate circumstance of being laid off. I stayed home for a while to take care of things around the house. Jobs were scarce, and as time went by it was obvious that I wasn't going to find anything quick.

I took solace in my hobby, cooking. I would make fancy dinners, great bread, or comfort food depending on the day. It started feeling good. The house was cleaner, my wife had gotten a promotion so money wasn't that tight. I was more or less a happy kept man.

"I want to tell you something," she was laying in bed spooning me, my naked body pressed tight against her. "I came that night."

I knew what she meant. She meant the night I went down on her, gave myself to her. I felt my bottom press into her. I didn't understand what she was saying. Did she want me to do it again? What did she mean she came that night? Of course she did, all over me. I tasted it for a couple of days afterwards.

"I know," I pulled her arm close to my bare chest.

"No, I came that night after," she reached her hand down to my cock and started to stroke me. "I must have been excited too, because when you came and your ass was pressed against me, I came."

I felt my cock shudder in her hands and the first bit of sex slipping out of me. She felt so good, her breasts tight against my back, so tight I could feel her hard nipples. I felt her hips pressing towards me.

She pushed me over onto my belly and slid on top of me like Debbie had done so long ago. The memories flooded back to me. She reached under me searching for my cock.

I felt the first shudder of excitement pumping from my loins and into the sheets below. She had mounted me and was thrusting her hips into my ass cheeks. I spread my legs wider, I couldn't hold back, my cock pumping incessantly.

She kept riding me, I could fell her body shaking and shuddering. She pulled my hips up to her and tried to rub her sex all over me finally releasing in a series of loud moans, her wetness dripping to my ass and beyond.

She collapsed on top of me exhausted. I couldn't move, the cold feeling of my love all over my belly. I was shocked and embarrassed.

"That," she panted as she kissed my back, "was amazing."

She started asking me to "do that one thing again, with my toes" until I agreed. I felt a little funny doing it again, since it had obviously backfired. Any fear I had was quickly taken over by the joy of the feeling of submission.

That's right. All the power exchanged before I was playing with my wife were very passive on my part. I simply went along with the woman but didn't really press any particular way. I let her guide me.

While I was still letting my wife guide me, I was actually letting her guide my actions. At first it was exhilarating. As I undressed that second time I was unable to contain my sexual excitement, my cock jerking in front of her.

Again she sat there reading, and again I pleasured her until she had to hold on. Then she'd let me sit at her feet and caress her before I finally left. It became something I started doing a lot, each time it felt a little less exciting, but still felt good none the less.

"Have you ever," she squeezed my bottom as way lay in bed another evening, "you know, put something in there?"

"No," I shuddered, ashamed that I was lying but more ashamed if she had found out the truth.

"Are you sure?" she pressed, squeezing me tighter. "I think you have and you don't want to tell me."

I sat there quietly. She kept squeezing me and the sensation was, as usual, very erotic. She slid her hands between my legs. I felt my stomach quiver.

She had asked me why I would shake uncontrollably as she slid her hand down from my ass to my balls. I tried to answer, the best response I could come up with was that it made me feel extremely vulnerable. I felt like it was a place that only I should touch.

To her that must have sounded like an invitation to touch me there. She would do it when she wanted me to talk about something that I was uncomfortable with. And she would make me explode, her hand reaching through my legs massaging my cock until I sprayed myself to exhaustion.

I had no idea really, why it turned me on so much. I still don't. The feeling is overwhelming and I can barely think when someone is there. Now she was using it to get the answer she wanted from me, I don't know if she wanted the truth but she knew I'd prefer to come another way. She knew I'd want her to stop.

"Alright," I moaned barely in control. "I have, okay?"

So I came clean. I told her about Debbie and Lisa, without the gory power details I felt she didn't need to know. How I explored my anal fantasies and how they would sometimes haunt me.

"You ever do a man?" she looked at me to see if I was telling the truth.

"No," the answer was definite and immediate. "I am not turned on at all by men."

"Can I," she smiled and bit her lip, "you know, put something there?"

She reached around and squeezed me. I could feel my cock harden against her belly. Any answer other than yes wouldn't have been accepted, and I knew that. I was okay with it. My secret was out, and quite frankly, if she wouldn't kiss me there, this sounded like one of the biggest turn ons I could think of.

"Sure honey," I kissed her, "someday."

Turned out someday was right then. She reached into her night stand and produced a pretty pink gel vibrator and a pair of condoms.

"I wondered why I was always running out of batteries and condoms," she pushed me onto my belly and positioned herself between my legs.

I could feel the cool of the lubricant as she pressed the vibrator against me, not turning it on. She slid it up and down through my cheeks. I was tormented each time it slid against my opening, wanting it inside of me so bad. Finally, she started pushing against me, opening me up to slowly slide it inside.

I let out a huge groan of pleasure and pain as I felt her push the shaft in as deep as I could take it. She twisted the control and knob and instantly my body began to shake. The whirring motors sending my body into convulsive ecstasy.

The feeling was incredible. The combination of the familiar massage of the vibrator combined with her hands sliding underneath me, through my legs against my shaft, sent my body lurching against her. She let her hands drift all the way to the end of my shaft, and gripped me tight.

I could feel my cock pulsing. It wasn't going to stop. She pressed her hips to mine, using them to hold the vibrator within me. She leaned me onto the bed. I felt like my orgasm would never subside. Her weight pressing the vibrator hard against me, my whole body shook and shivered.

When I felt like I could take it no longer she gently rolled off me and turned the vibrator off. She started rubbing my back and bottom. Slowly the shaft began to work it's way from my ass. It was agonizingly slow. I wanted to reach back and pull it out but she was holding me down. She put her hand between my legs. Finally I felt my body shudder and push it all the way from me.

I felt both incredible and incredibly embarrassed at how incredible I felt. She enjoyed it a lot.

She'd do it once every week or two. Either she'd come against me or roll over afterwards and have me or the vibrator. It didn't seem to get old at all, to her or me. It was an incredible release, one that left me feeling relaxed for days afterwards.

"Your birthday is coming up," she told me over dinner. "What's your biggest fantasy? One that hasn't come true yet."

I was silent. I didn't even know. I tended to fantasize about things that had happened. I thought hard and could only come up with one thing.

"Two watch two women," I said not really convinced that it was a fantasy of mine, "maybe join in I guess?"

"Really?" she looked at me, "that's your biggest fantasy?"

I told her I couldn't think of anything else. She started listing off things, sex in different places or different ways. Sex with different people. I honestly didn't think any of them would be as exciting. It was a cliché fantasy, but it certainly sounded incredibly hot.

"I don't think I could do that," she kept on eating. "I don't know that it could work for me."

She left it at that and I didn't think about it. My birthday was actually three months away so it didn't seem to make sense to ask anyway. Besides, she had created such erotic tension in the house that I could barely keep my mind on anything but the bulge between my legs and the pain of not coming often enough.

"I'd like you to wear these today," she smiled handing me a pair of perfume scented panties. "For your birthday, so when I think about while I'm at work I'll get really hot."

I had worn panties before. Her panties, when I was alone and playing with the vibrator, but I certainly hadn't worn them all day, and not on my birthday. I looked at them. They looked tight and had barely any fabric for the rear. I could smell the strong scent of perfume. I touched them tentatively.

"You want me to wear these?" I looked at her. "I have to go shopping. I was supposed to go to lunch with friends."

"They won't know," she bit her lip. "Just me. That just makes it more exciting."

I caved in and she watched intently as I switched from my boxer briefs and into the silky panties. They felt tight against me.

"And I'd like you to shave, you know," she nodded down and winked, "down there."

I knew. She had hinted at it for a while. I used to ask her, but I had given up years ago never making any headway. I nodded my understanding. I didn't mind, I would occasionally trim up when I felt it was unruly anyway.

She went to work and I hit the showers. I shaved and shaved, constantly replacing the shaving gel. I couldn't resist using her peach scented option. I pressed the razor across my entire body, from my knees to my neck. Something about the thought of wearing panties and shaving with her gel was enticing. Making me hard with desire. I was getting into it.

I spent the day exactly as planned. Constantly the smell of the perfume or the peach scent of the shaving gel reminding me of my predicament. It turned me on more and more until I was unable to hide my erection in my pants.

I sat through my lunch squirming and shifting, trying to keep the bulge from pressing hard against me. The thought of any of the people I was eating with knowing my secret was unbearably erotic and humiliating at the same time. I couldn't help but be turned on, but I was ashamed someone might find out.

When I got home I couldn't stop touching myself. I kept feeling the smooth skin, reaching my hands into my pants to touch the soft balls. I kept adjusting myself in my pants, trying to keep my shaft within the confines of the panties and not have it pressed hard against the elastic. I felt ready to burst with every step. I didn't know what she had planned for me, but I was sure I was going to like whatever it was. I felt like I had no choice.

"I know it's your birthday, but I bought take-out," she came home early. I could barely contain my lust. I wanted her then and there anyway she wanted.

She didn't want me then of course, she wanted dinner. We sat through a very light meal. I wouldn't have wanted to eat much anyway and I was sure she felt the same. I could barely contain my excitement. I wanted her.

"Now," she finished her meal and looked at me, "I want us to go to the other room and we do, you know, you're thing. I want you to give in to me. I need you to excite me for what I'm gong to do for you."

She smiled and looked into my eyes. I felt a slight fear welling inside of me. What was she going to do? I didn't dare ask, the thought of not knowing making my lust grow until I could have burst without help.

We went to the living room and she sat on the couch. Slowly I undressed, my cock jerking with each piece of clothing I dropped to the floor. I started to pull down my panties but she shook her head no. I smiled.

I bent down to her feet and started sucking her toes. I could feel my cock stiff against the silky fabric of the panties, pressing me deeper into desire.

"I want you to do something," she whispered. "I want you to say you'll do anything I want tonight."

I was afraid of what she meant. Anything she wanted? What was there I wouldn't do? Why was she making me agree? I let my tongue drift around her, unable to answer.

"Honey," she continued, "I promise that I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. I want to please you on your birthday you've been so good to me lately. I'm going to give you a pleasure that I know you want."

The words "please me" sent shivers down my spine. Was the power shifting a little? Was she giving in to my desires? She knew what I wanted most, yet she had never said she would do it. Just the thought of her mouth between my cheeks sent me nearer to orgasm.

"Yes," I hesitantly nodded and tried to gulp down the lump in my throat.

She lead me to the bedroom.

"I'm going to tie you to the foot of the bed and the dresser," she positioned me. She found some old ties of mine. Why I had ties I never really knew. I wore them at funerals and weddings mostly. Wrapping a tie tight around my left wrist, she yanked it down to the bed post, then bent for my foot. By the time she was done I was unable to move, each of my limbs firm against their anchor.

"I'm going to go get ready," she patted my butt. "I might be an hour."

She turned off the light and left the room.

What had I done? I wondered about what was happening as I stood there in the dark. Nothing I had done seemed like it should have lead to this, but it had. What happened to the shy virgin I had married? Did I just marry her too early to know who she was? Did I help do this in some way?

Was it my fault? It was sort of my fault I thought. I had to take the blame. I kept going along with it. I was the one who let her know how much it excited me. But that was the stuff we had been doing before. Where I gave her pleasure without looking for any in return. Like Lisa or Debbie had. Forgoing their pleasure to give me mine. My wife, it felt like, wanted both to please me and for me to please her. This was different, this was constantly evolving.

My upper body weight was mostly wresting on my arms, like I was doing a perpetual push up. I wanted to lie down, to rest, but I couldn't. The agony of standing there and the daunting thoughts of what she was going to do to me wrestled for my attention. I felt my cock wax and wane and finally, near exhaustion, there were voices in the hall.

Voices.

She wouldn't bring a man. I knew that. She had asked me to set the rules and we wrote them down. I had one, she was never to touch another man. Not with me there, not without me there. Never. She quickly agreed. It made what I was doing okay. I knew she wouldn't cheat on me.

I thought about what had brought me here. I knew a lot of it was feeling insecure about not having a job. If she wanted to please me this way, I thought, why should I resist. I didn't have anywhere to go and it was certainly something I was enjoying. My cock pressed tight against the silk, and some of it, I thought, was pushed upon me while I was oblivious.

I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

"He's at the foot of the bed," my wife gently cooed to someone in the hallway, "why don't you climb in and I'll turn the light on."

Someone was with her. I gulped. Someone was going to see me like this. Tied to the bed, wearing panties. I felt ashamed but my cock stiffened at the same time. I prayed I didn't know the person.

I heard the rustle of someone getting onto the bed in front of me. I could smell sex all over. Suddenly I was blinded by bright lights, quickly I closed my eyes trying to adjust to the brightness.

I blinked over and over again until I could finally see. What I saw made my stomach drop to the floor. I felt all sick, humiliated and on the brink of sexual explosion at the same time.

Sandy.

Sandy was what my wife was not. She was younger than my wife. She was smaller than my wife. She was blond, had blue eyes, a tight small butt. We had worked together, the three of us before I had gotten a laid off. She was one of the friends I met lunch earlier that day.

I felt my first memorable adult tears in my eyes. In one fell swoop my wife had done so many things to change our relationship. She made me feel small all day, wearing panties. She had said I would feel more like the stay at home spouse but it was different than that. It felt demeaning, and I was ashamed that being demeaned was turning me on.

Then there was Sandy. My wife knew from the moment the three of us met that I had a crush on her. That I wanted to protect her. If I were to pick on person to cheat on her with, it would have been Sandy. She asked me several times if I thought she was attractive, full well knowing the answer.

"I don't," was always her response to whatever I said. "I think she's kind of plain."

It was jealousy and I knew it. Sometimes I'd foster it. We all spent a lot of time together. At first we just bonded, all of us hanging out with each other. However, she could see me flirting and having fun. I never once thought about consummating a relationship with her. I was married. I was loyal, I assured her.

I did fantasize about it though and I am not ashamed to admit it.

Now she was in front of me, in just her panties on my bed, with my wife. I was standing with a ladies blue thong wedged between my cheeks in front of a woman who, if I wasn't married, I would have tried harder to get into bed with. Any chances of that now seemed to have vanished.

"He is wearing panties," Sandy pressed her cheek against my wife's. "And he doesn't have any body hair. You weren't lying."

They had talked about it? When? Before the two of them had lunch earlier in the day? She said no one would know. It killed me. Did Sandy tell anyone? She was just conniving enough to do that. It was certainly not outside of her character.

I looked into my wife's eyes. I didn't have anything to say but I tried to find words but I could find only soft sobs. My cock never stopped aching. She began to speak.

"Remember a couple of months ago when I asked what your biggest fantasy was?" she looked at me with a surprisingly loving look. "I thought you would answer Sandy. At least me and Sandy."

Her words shocked me. Of course she had hints of my infatuation with Sandy, but I never once let on that I would cheat on her. Only longingly in the back of my mind had the thought occurred to me.

"So I talked to her," I watched her hands slowly inching towards Sandy's hips.

How could she do this to me. Someone she knew I wanted. Someone she knew I actually loved without any sex involved. Someone I cared for. My cock twitched. I was beholden to the day, not the moment. She had driven me wild enough that I could not resist being turned on, though at that moment I wanted to be as far away as I could, curled in a ball.