tagLoving WivesDear John, Fuck You...Twice

Dear John, Fuck You...Twice

bySpiewgels©

Dear John,

I'm glad to hear that your conference is going well and that you were able to avoid most of the insipid speeches. While I don't have to deal with nearly as many business trips as you do, I'm rather familiar with drab, monotonous talking. I had to do a bit of traveling myself, yesterday evening. Without going into needless details about shopping (I know how much you hate that), I ended the day with a treat from Bath & Body Works.

As I returned home, the sun was swiftly trying to bury itself in the intangible abyss of the western sky. Porch lights were coming on and the mischievous chirps of the crickets were in full effect. I grabbed my goodies bag and entered the house quietly as if I were a child sneaking in past curfew. After turning on some lights, I headed into the kitchen to our makeshift wine-rack. Everything that we had left on there was a bit more for "special" occasions so I just peeked into the fridge to grab the Bosca Verdi. No sense in drinking our good stuff while spending the night alone.

I took the bottle and the little baggy upstairs to our room, walking straight through to the other end where the double doors kept our bathroom hidden and tucked away. I fumbled with the knob for a bit before I managed to budge the ever-stubborn door. You really need to fix that, John. It's quite annoying. At any rate, I skirted past the bullying door and went to go set my bottle on the floor by the tub. I really love our tub and its irregular shape as it does its best to mimic a spa. I sat my baggy on the edge of the tub before I headed back downstairs.

I rummaged around for a few minutes grabbing some necessary items: corkscrew, glass, and a bucket that I filled with ice. I always feel so independent without you around, John. I don't like it; I'd much rather you were there to start this procession before teasing me with a foot rub...But you're not here so I must help myself.

I'm back in our bathroom, armed with most of what I need to enjoy myself and the night. I sat the bottle into the bucket of ice after setting the glass and corkscrew down nearby. Satisfied with my setup, I started to release my brunette tresses from that pitiful hairstyle of a ponytail. I can't stay dolled up all day, John. Next, I dealt with the white sweatshirt that you always see me wear around the house. I slipped it over my head and tossed it to an increasing pile of laundry in the corner.

I turned to look at myself in the mirror to see what a mess I was. My hair was lying lazily over my shoulders with my bangs still newly cut and covering my forehead. I smiled a bit as I looked at the angles of my face; ever since House on Fox added "Thirteen", you always insisted that my features "resemble[d] the beautiful structure of Olivia Wilde". I may resemble her a little with my cheekbones and chin but I definitely don't have that natural sexy lip pout. But I digress: I'm thirty-five and being compared to that beautiful young thing. John, you're such a charmer.

I hadn't bothered to wear anything under the sweatshirt so the slight coolness of the house had instantly begun massaging my little buds of happiness to life. Can you imagine it, John? Are you going to let the house's air conditioner have its way with me? For shame...

I then decided to start up the bath so that once I was fully undressed, I would have the warmth of the water to cradle me in its embrace and guard me from naughty ole air conditioner. I stepped towards the tub, careful to not knock my glass over lest it broke and I got cut. Now to my goody bag! I reached in to grab my Stress Relief Eucalyptus Spearmint, my favorite bath salt. John, I know that you do not find this exciting but think of the way that you barely keep your hands to yourself as I snuggle up to you and let you inhale my scent. I think your exact reaction is always a thick finger on my bum...Although that's a bit weird since both of your hands are in front of me where I can see them.

I turn on the hot water full blast while tweaking the cold knob just enough to subtly add in the coolness. As I stopper the tub I sprinkle some of the salts in the cascading waters, breathing deeply as I take in the alluring smell. I stand back up to let the water run its course and create my sensuous bath for me so I can continue shedding my clothes. At this point, I only had my loose denims and a pair of sneakers still on. I couldn't stop myself from breathing deeply as much as I could in order to take in the bath oils so I began to disrobe quickly. I slipped off my sneakers, not even bothering to untie them. Everything else, I got in one fluid movement; after unbuttoning my jeans, I hooked my fingers on them and my panties and pulled while simultaneously using my feet to take off my socks and stepping out of my jeans.

I felt a bit giddy as I knew that I would soon be entering the watery blanket that awaited my body. I didn't even mind that the air was again feeling me up and touching between my legs. As a matter of fact, because my soft lips had been cooped up in the jeans all day it welcomed the devilish activity of the air currents. I reached down and grabbed the corkscrew and bottle, fumbling with it until I got it open. I grabbed some tiny chunks of ice and put it at the bottom of the wine glass knowing that while I was in the tub the wine would lose its chill faster. Remember how you taught me that? That, among other things like how to keep certain things hot...

I poured some wine into my glass and now I was ready! I cautiously started to sneak my left foot into the steaming water. Careful, ever so careful. Didn't want to scald my pretty little feet that you loved to nibble on. It was so toasty, yet so comforting. Having braved one entire foot up to mid-calf, I was ready for the other leg. I slowly took a sip of the wine as I got the other leg in for the hard part was coming; letting the purring waters soak up into me and through my legs and finally to my little soft tender lips. I started to bend my legs and go down. It was hot but I could take it. Down further. The water started cupping my booty. Down more. Liquid pools streamed between my cheeks and up further. I finally was almost sitting completely and the water greedily encompassed the crevices of my lower body. Now I just straightened out my legs and let the waters gently hold me in place. I drank more of the wine to combat the oncoming sweat I was starting to feel at the roots of my hair.

But, John, I had miscalculated. While my body was indeed being enveloped by the warm caresses of the water, my poor breasts were still not submerged in the water. Because of the heat of the water, I had developed a slick sheen of sweat over my breasts and the combination of the moisture and the air was causing my breast buttons to have mini erections. Just after I had noticed that, I took another drink and some condensation from my wine glass dripped down and over my right nipple, John. Why did the elements want a piece of me? I couldn't allow it. Only you were allowed to touch over my body, my breasts, my booty, my lips...

I sat the glass on the edge of the tub and placed both of my hands under water to warm them up. A few seconds later, I brought them up to my breasts and massaged slowly, occasionally bumping them together. The sensation of the cold leaving my breasts was magical. Since that was so successful, I decided to give my breast buttons the same attention. I gripped them both using a technique that you used so often. I trapped them between my index and middle fingers and pulled at them as if my fingers were tongs.

I remember how you used to pull at them like this as you bathed with me. You would be behind me tugging on me like this as you kissed me behind the ears. I closed my eyes envisioning that you were right there with me, fondling my nipples as I felt your hardness thumping on my lower back.

While keeping my left hand at work with my nipple, I grabbed the wine glass and leaned back against the tub. To me, I was laying in your arms as you played with me. My left hand became yours as it started traveling downwards and grazing my tummy along the way. I drank more of the wine, emptying the glass this time and sitting it back on the edge. My right hand was free again, John. Your right hand. I reached in slowly to rub my breast some more as my left hand trailed down towards my nectar breeder, undaunted by the trembling in my stomach.

Do you remember how you handled me this exact way when we visited your parents that time? You knew that the bathroom was right next door to their bedroom and you insisted upon groping me. You kept massaging my right breast just as I'm doing now as your little devious hand found its way to my clitoris. You just kept on circling it again and again while mistreating my chest. You knew that I had to hold in all the moans that I wanted to let escape for fear that we be heard. But you only increased the teasing. You forced my legs apart and started inserting your fingers into my pussy while whispering, "You better not get us caught." Right after that warning, you used your body weight to push me forward onto your murderous finger and sucking on my earlobe.

I never had a chance. That little maneuver of yours caused me to let a kitten whimper out. As punishment, you bit into my back right shoulder and took your fingers out of me. I had to beg you through hushed whispers to please enter me again. You only did so after making me promise to better control myself. I remember quietly crying out my orgasm as you made me cum right next door to your parents. That night, I couldn't ride you hard enough at the other end of their house as you almost caused me asphyxiation with the choke you held over me to keep me quiet. Did I cum three times or four? I guess you wouldn't know as we fell asleep, me on top of you with me still covering your penis with my wetness...

At this point, John, I already had two fingers inside me sloppily sloshing away. I couldn't do it like you but it still felt good to me. I had long since taken one leg out of the bathtub and hung it over the edge. The sensation of having one leg experiencing extreme cold while the other was trapped in warmness does amazing things. My breasts were finally enjoying the warmth of the water as I've slid considerably far down while playing with myself and maneuvering my leg out onto the edge.

I was so hoping that you could've appeared at that moment and do what you do best. But I just kept on plugging away reliving our moments out mentally and channeling it through my fingers. My middle and ring fingers were doing a formidable job. I had hooked them into my little glazed hole and was trying my best to move in an elliptical motion just as you had showed me. I had started to get it down finally and my body was trying to steal the show. Having become impatient with my fingers, my hips decided to work themselves over my poor fingers. All the commotion was causing waves to be created in the tub but I didn't care. As I got into a rhythm that I hope to be able to achieve again and again, my right hand left my breast and went up to my hair, pulling at the sides of it.

It felt so good, John, and triggered another set of memories. I recall that time we were having an argument in the kitchen about your decision to make that huge purchase of the television without talking to me. You had come home from work and I, admittedly, had chosen this very wrong time to bring up the TV when you had bought it the day before. I was telling you that you were irresponsible and didn't value anything that I had to say. You asked me to let it go and let's talk about it later. I refused, though. I had all day to think about it and I wanted to talk about it then. You started walking away to come upstairs and I had a bowl of ice-cream in my possession. I threw it at you but missed.

The anger that was in your eyes as you turned around...Your jaw was set and you didn't say a word, you just walked towards me with a glare while I cowered against the counter. You grabbed a lock of my hair, sort of how I was pulling at it in the tub, and started pulling me. I had my hands on your arm and was begging you to stop but you just kept pulling me, eventually leading me up the stairs. As we got to the room, you shut the door behind you and you were still holding onto my hair. I was crying at this point but you didn't care.

You pulled me along towards the bed and slammed me onto it with my hair still in your hand. At the same time, you had brought all of your body weight on top of me, knocking the wind out of me. You had a message for me that you growled in my ear as you lay on top of me and it was a simple one: "Don't ever fucking throw anything at me again. Do you understand?" I was busy crying but I did manage to nod my head despite your grip. I had on a tattered T-shirt and some black boy-shorts.

You started ripping at the shirt until you tore it all the way off of me. Inevitably, my shorts were the next to go as you slid them down my legs. I couldn't turn around as you still had a grip on my hair but I did hear the sound of you sucking your fingers. Without ceremony or prelude you started sliding your fingers into me as you had me impaled on the bed. You kept going in reaching all the way up to where my little spot was and paying extra attention to use your thumb and rub on my clitoris. Soon my sobs were ceasing and they were being replaced by little baby moans. As soon as you had me good and wet, you took your fingers out and released me while I assumed you were unzipping your pants. I kept my head face down on the covers, my little booty all wet and exposed.

Then I felt you back on top of me. I could tell you didn't take your pants off but you had the part of you that you needed out. And then you began. No caresses and no whispers of love. You had planned to punish-fuck me. So I had to pay. You grabbed the back of my hair this time and slid your cock right into me. I moaned out so loud and you just pulled my hair tighter. You came all the way out of me and slammed right back in. The impact made me cough, but I wanted to keep coughing...You obliged me, John. For the next twenty minutes or so you deeply impacted me, and I don't mean emotionally.

Never once did the tempo speed up with rhythmic sex. Instead you continued to plow into me, pull out, and then slam back in. I was coughing, moaning, and cumming. On your last pump, you came into me while I was busy gasping for air. Afterwards, I felt your tongue inside me sucking out your most recent deposit. You knew how much I loved for your cum to sit in me after sex, but you wouldn't let me keep it because of the punishment. I couldn't complain, though, because you took me to the bathroom and washed my hair and bathed me.

John there was so much water on the floor now as that last memory had brought my body to doing jerky movements. It wanted to cum, no matter what. My hair was soaked, my left hand was so tired, but my pussy wanted so much more. I had to get out of the tub.

I left the bathroom a mess as I headed for the room. Don't worry; I later cleaned it up. I went straight to my toy-box that I keep in my closet. Oh, and by the way John, I have a surprise for you. I go and grab my favorite toy: the butterfly vibrator. You've known that I loved the butterfly for a while now. Today, though, the blue dildo became a favorite of mine but back to yesterday. I got some batteries and loaded up the little butterfly gadget. Whoever thought of this was such a genius. I mean, really, a tiny vibrator that's stuffed into a rubber fake butterfly. A butterfly that has straps on it so you can wrap them around your upper thighs. With the straps in place you could fasten them, thereby plastering/forcing the vibrating butterfly to endlessly jiggle your clitoris for multiple orgasms.

I attached it to myself, John, and turned it on maximum. My hot little pussy is on so much fire from my memories of us. I got into the bed and lay on my back. I'm still kind of wet from the tub and I'm soaking up everything. However, I didn't care because the little butterfly was already at work fluttering on my clit. I closed my eyes and grabbed the headboard as I imagined it was your tongue down there at work on my pussy. Yes, John, just like that. My hips were grinding into the air searching for a tongue that just wasn't there, but yet wanting more. It was beginning to be too much for me. I couldn't take it but I had to. The little thing just wouldn't stop humming my pussy to life and now the water on the bed was being joined by sticky little juices. My hips started raising off the bed more and more but I was holding on to the bed so I wouldn't be orgasmed away.

You were eating me so good John and added to the memories of you punishing me in the bed that day and forcing me to cum in your parent's house, it was coming to a familiar ending. I started yelping out and tears starting dropping from my closed eyes as the butterfly was sending me to orgasm. My grip on the bed weakened as I slumped down. The problem was that I had no energy to turn the damned device off. As I lay there in my fragile state, the thing kept right on buzzing until I soon found myself cumming again. I mustered all the will power I could so I could snatch it off of me.

Wasn't it good for you, John? Well, it shouldn't have been. Remember I said I had a surprise for you? Today, Tim from next door wanted to know if we had any trimmer string left and I told him I don't keep up with that type of stuff. However, I decided to give the garage a look just in case I spotted something worthwhile to him. Unsurprisingly, I didn't find what he was talking about but I did find something that was worthwhile to me.

While I was trashing the garage looking for string, I came upon an old shoe box sitting on top of the freezer. Yes, that's right. You can start letting your heart pump faster now. I don't need to tell you what I saw in there, John, but I'll do it anyway for effect. It turns out someone is quite the photographer. Can you tell me why is it that I saw a handful of pictures of Kylie from the office in these very provocative pictures?!? Can you tell me, John?!?? What the hell is the meaning of this? How long have you been fucking that little bitch?

I mean, seriously, there's literally a picture of blonde Kylie in OUR bed!!! And another one where she's in my fucking bathroom, wearing some of my night shirts. What type of fucking man are you???And my favorite: You actually have the nerve to have her in my bed with a blindfold on and my blue dildo stuffed in her pussy!!!

What did you do John? Tell me, what the fuck did you do?!! Did you fuck her like you fucked me that time in the blindfold? That was OUR thing...

The way you came home that time and was upset because I didn't have your special shirt cleaned for the mini golf tournament you and your buddies were having.

You came home and asked had I washed it. I had told you that I was too busy and had to get ready for a business dinner. I was standing at the sink in the kitchen and you had said, "Well, because my shirt isn't clean I'm going to be delayed so since you're inconveniencing me, let me return the favor." You turned me around so that I was facing you and you and started kissing me roughly. I pulled back and told you to not do this but you just started kissing me again and using your hands to ruffle up my hair. I screamed for you to stop it and you said, "Stop what? Stop trying to fuck my hot wife?"

After you made that comment, you pulled my skirt down right to the floor exposing my soft pink lace panties. I tried to get away and fix my hair but you held me in place with your body and pulled my hands back down to my sides. I pleaded and begged in between your kisses but you wouldn't let me get away. At one point, you even recklessly snatched open my blouse, leaving some of the buttons dangling uselessly. As I tried to sidestep you, the opening between my legs was enough that you easily took your left hand and began moving my panties to the side. As always when you start taking me over, tears began to form in my eyes as I realized you were not going to let me go until you gave it to me.

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