tagText With AudioExhausted by Hubby Ch. 02

Exhausted by Hubby Ch. 02

byangela146©

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Part II. Written Thursday morning ... The morning after.

One of the many nice things about being in a good marriage is that you have someone who will push you; get you to do things that you want to
do... but you're reluctant to do. For me, it's my writing.

I've wanted to share some of my intimate, personal life with someone... not one of my friends... I really can't do that. There're too many risks.

Even our closest friends, even the people we've share our bedroom with, don't see us as we really are. We open up with them about "normal sex" but we don't share the really deep passionate part of ourselves. The kinky side.

But I have this incredibly good husband who drives me wild.

And good things in life need to be shared. Writing and posting these stories is my way of sharing it.

I'm safe with you. You and I are mutually anonymous. You don't know my real name or where I live. You and I will never meet. You could be a man, a woman, young, old, married, single, attached, gay, lesbian, straight, bi... I don't know. All I know is that you like erotic stories and you apparently don't mind suffering through the ramblings of woman who wants to explore her feelings.

Of course, maybe you skip over the ramblings and go directly to the "fun" part, but then, you wouldn't be hearing this sentence would you?

You're different from most people in that you're pretty much accepting of the kinds of things I'm talking about. You don't have a false picture of me as a sweet, wholesome wife or a professional career woman or whatever. All you know about me is what I tell you in my stories.

Even so, it's difficult for me to write about stuff that's so private and kinky. The fact that my husband "forced" me to agree to write this
(before doing it) made it easier. Deep down, of course I know that I don't have to tell you anything. Yes, I agreed to, but hubby would let
me out of that "deal" if he thought I really wanted out. But he isn't letting me off the hook, even though I'm begging and pleading with him to not have to share this with you.

Am I making any sense?

Oh... one last thing: In my stories so far, I've been [I]very[/I] submissive and allowing him to do some, well, un-feminist stuff with me. If you
believe in the equality of men and women, you may find yourself gritting your teeth. Don't worry, in some of my stories I'll eventually share the other side of things and show you that I take charge now and then.

Despite appearances, our relationship is really one between two equals. We aren't some kind of "domestic discipline" couple. I don't surrender my autonomy to him out of some sort of belief in a wife's duty.

I do it because it turns me on. In fact, I take charge of things as often as he does. OK, maybe not as often, but often enough. Some of the things that he did to me last night are things that I do to him at other times.


OK, I'm not just rambling, I'm stalling. (Yes, dear, I'll start writing now). Here's what happened last night:

It was 9 o'clock, right after I wrote the draft of chapter one. I took a deep breath and went into the living room to sit next to hubby on the
couch. I kissed him on the cheek, he muted the TV and we looked at each other. I broke the silence and asked, "If I do this, are you going to be nice?"

He chuckled and said, "Not entirely". He wasn't making it any easier. "You already wrote about how I 'forced myself' on you that one time...
what's the problem?" [I know, I haven't shared that story with you, yet, but I will].

I tucked myself under his arm and was quiet for a while as he held me and waited. "That was something I did for you... This is something you're doing for me."

He understood as well as I did, "It's harder to admit to that you enjoy something really kinky. Giving yourself to me was a noble sacrifice.
This is just plain hedonistic."

After another minute, I sat up. "OK... I'll do it..." I wanted to ask him not to humiliate me too much but it wouldn't have helped. I had to
put myself in his hands and let him decide. He sent me upstairs, telling me he had already laid out something for me to wear. As I walked up the
stairs, I started to feel giddy. I stopped and blew him a kiss.

"Oh, we're going to start in the 'other' room and move to the guest room, " he said as I reached the top of the stairs. I wasn't surprised.

"Our" bedroom has a waterbed. The guestroom has a normal bed (both are king sized). The "other" bedroom (the third bedroom) has a futon. If
we're going to be adventurous, it's easier to use the other room. The futon is like a couch with a slight back-tilt to it. It's good for positions where I'm straddling him. The guest room is useful for lying down but not having to keep balanced as we would on the waterbed.

No, we don't have children. We have a three-bedroom house all to ourselves.

I went to our room and picked up a couple of things, including some perfume, and went into the bathroom. I almost cried when I saw that he already had a small bottle of the same perfume (Poisson) sitting the counter. I have three that I normally wear, depending on the mood.

Apparently, he knew what mood I was in. I stripped and freshened up, putting on only a little bit of makeup. Lipstick, however, is a definite requirement. He likes the texture and even the smell (the smell reminds him of crayons).

I then closed the door to see what he had on the back of it for me to wear. It was a little bit of a surprise. I had thought he would have me in a babydoll but he had chosen my pair of midnight-blue satin PJs.

The top is a big-shirt with buttons down the front and the bottom is a simple pair of pull-on pants. I thought for a moment and decided to
overrule him a little. He hadn't included the matching satin bra and panties nor the heeled slippers. I went and got them and a contrasting
maroon satin short robe. It would be a lot of layers for him to remove.

I thought about you, whoever you are, as I stood in front of the mirror, naked, about to get dressed for bed. I haven't told you much about what I look like and I'm going to keep it that way for the moment. However, I will say that I'm a "full figured" woman, with shoulder-length brunette hair.

The perfume went on first, very light and strategically located. Hubby has a very sensitive nose so I don't use much. With that done, I put on the panties, bra, PJ bottoms, top and slippers. I arranged everything for best effect and then slipped on the robe.

Men generally like women in heels. There are a lot of reasons. In hubby's case, he likes the way it accents my hips and brings a certain area of my frontal anatomy forward. He also likes the way I walk. Besides that, there is one other aspect of heels, which I'll discuss later. Hubby
didn't think of it when he set out my outfit, but I knew he would appreciate it when the time came.

That thought made me jittery as I remembered where all of this was heading. I wasn't just going to get laid. There was other business to be attended to. I thought for a moment that maybe he didn't know I was a bad girl, and that's why he forgot the slippers. That lasted for only a couple of minutes, as I left the bathroom, walked back through the bedroom and
entered the 'other' room.

The moment I opened the door and walked in, I felt the cold. He had left the door shut and opened the A/C vents. I quickly closed the door to preserve the feeling. My nipples were going to be hard despite the summer weather and the layers of PJs. Then I saw the paddle and my pulse quickened. The knot also started to return to my stomach.

Most women understand "the feeling" but I don't think most men get it. It's like having something squeezing every part of your body. I feel like I'm about to be lifted up by some powerful force and swept away at high speed on an invisible roller coaster. I knew I was going to loose control and have it "done to me". It's scary as hell but that's part of the pleasure. I like not having to decide anything and not having any choice in the matter. I give in, he takes over, and my body does the rest for me.

I've been teasing you with this long enough, and you've figured it out by now anyway, so here goes: in addition to getting laid, I knew from
the beginning that I was going to be spanked.

Hubby and I are "somewhat" into SM. We like spanking and rough sex but not much more than that. Neither of us likes other kinds of pain. For me, I like the release and the warm burning sensation on my bottom and the backs of my legs. I also like being dominated, as long as it's for
a short duration and I know that I'll get my free-will back when it's over.

Again, enough stalling... the paddle: It's black, about the size of a ping-pong paddle but thicker, heavier and harder. It's specifically designed for use on bottoms, not ping-pong balls. On one side, it's flat and smooth.

On the other side, it's furry and soft. You can use the furry side for a long time with a hard swing and it won't hurt. It's kind of like what
a "Nerf Paddle" would be if there were such a thing.

The hard side is deadly. Anything more than a light "tap" stings. A good swing hurts like hell. What's particularly nasty is when he uses the soft side really hard and then suddenly uses the hard side without warning.

Five soft-side thuds followed by a hard-side smack is scary, especially when you don't know which one is going to be the hard one.

Actually, that's my favorite thing to do [I]to him[/I]. He generally uses one side or the other and stays with it.

The paddle was sitting on the end table, right next to the door. We normally keep it in the bedroom. The fact that it was right in front of me was a not-at-all-subtle sign.

Now, how did I know I was going to be spanked? Of course the paddle was a give-a-way. But even if he hadn't planned on doing it, I had ensured
it when I "touched" yesterday morning. He had told me to be a "good girl" and "no touching". The moment he was gone downstairs I did it anyway. I was planning on telling him if he didn't already know.

When we first got into SM, we needed an excuse to punish each other, something that neither of us was really upset about but something that
would be a bad-boy/bad-girl thing. We eventually agreed that we each needed to get the other's permission to masturbate if the other wasn't
present to watch. I have blanket permission (pun intended) to do it in the morning after he leaves. I usually also do it in bed with him at
night or near him when we're downstairs.

Yes, I know, a woman masturbating twice a day. I have a high libido.

Sometimes, I do it late in the afternoon just before he gets home. I deliberately try to time it so he might walk in on me. If he's too late, and arrives after the orgasm, he usually figures it out anyway. Those are the times that I get spanked. He does the same kind of thing in his own way when he wants it.

By the way, if I really want to get off privately, I just start doing it earlier in the afternoon. If he figures out later, well... that's the way it is.

So, even though I normally do it in the morning after he leaves for work, he told me yesterday morning that I wasn't allowed to. I then had a
choice - and a very easy way of getting spanked. When I did it, I was setting myself up for a spanking.

He had the paddle set out already, probably assuming I had done it. If I hadn't... Well, there really wasn't much chance of that, now was there?

For my part, I was trying to focus this whole incident a little. I knew he was going to do something kinky to me so that I would be embarrassed when I wrote about it. This was a way of making it not too kinky but kinky enough. He still had the option of doing something else (or something in addition) and that kept things edgy. There were several other things he could do that would be much more difficult to write about. I was at his mercy.

So, there I was in the "other room", wrapped in satin and ready for him. I was nervous. Every fiber of my body was on edge. He had me right where he wanted me - and right where I wanted to be. Then I heard him coming up the stairs and I started breathing heavy.

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