Julie Becomes John's Pet Ch. 06

Welcome to Chapter Six of my still-developing story, which is completely true. This story won't make any sense unless you read the first five chapters first. Click my profile for the link to those chapters. I love getting feedback from the readers, so please post a comment and let me know what you thought of this!

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Nate returned home from New York on Friday afternoon, bringing a pastrami sandwich and a bouquet of flowers as a gift for me. I know it sounds dumb, but I like pastrami and you can't get a decent sandwich outside metro-New York, so I thought it was an incredibly sweet gesture. What was more important was that Nate was TRYING. He did something very thoughtful by going out of his way for me. That night, instead of getting sloshed while watching a baseball game, we had a family night. Nate, our kids, and I got pizza and watched a movie together. After the kids went to bed, Nate and I snuggled on the couch while relaxing and watching TV. We hadn't done that in a long time, and it really felt nice. We went to bed at the same time, and when I thought he was trying to put the moves on me, I told him we should wait until tomorrow night in order to make it that much more special.

On Saturday, Nate and I spent the early part of the day doing a few household projects. I felt so much better about things- Nate and I were once again doing things as a team. He was showing interest in the house, interest in the family- and interest in me. The new, uninhibited Julie was ready to give her husband the night of his life both in and out of the bedroom. I couldn't wait.

After I showered, the time finally came for me to bring the kids to my Mother's house for an overnight stay. She lives about a half an hour away, and she loves having them. I told Nate that I'd stop and shop for "something special" for our date, but I'd be home by six. Nate said he'd try to look his best for the night as well. We had reservations at one of the area's best seafood restaurants, and there was a busy nightclub down the street from it. A little dinner, a little dancing, and a lustful night in bed was exactly what this stagnant marriage needed.

After dropping the kids off, I stopped at an upscale boutique and purchased a lacy push-up bra and matching underwear, and a short, tight, silver sequined sleeveless dress that zipped up at the front, leaving at my discretion the ability to show as much cleavage as I'd like. My plan was to show more and more as the night went on. From there I threw caution to the wind and bought a pair of black vinyl thigh-high boots that ended a few inches below the dress' hemline- that should illustrate how much leg that dress was showing, and I loved it. I made a detour to the Ladies' Room and applied liberal amounts of mascara, lipstick, and eyeliner. I hardly looked like a virgin, nor did I want to- I wanted my appearance to reflect the sexual, uninhibited being that I had become. For years, people insinuated- and sometimes flat-out stated- that I was Nate's "trophy wife". Tonight, he'd finally put that trophy on display in a proper manner.

As I drove toward my house, I imagined how I'd see my husband as I walked through the door. Nate was six years older than I, but he was still handsome and charming. I was wondering if he'd be wearing one of his business suits, perhaps with a fashionable button-down or mock collar to add a fresh air to his look? Or would he be wearing something new that he'd purchased in New York? How would he react upon seeing me in my new, sexy outfit?

I pulled into the driveway with my head spinning in anticipation. I wanted Nate to appreciate the new, sexy Julie the way John had 48 hours earlier. I slinked out of the car, still adjusting to walking in my new thigh-high boots, and headed toward the house.

I wanted Nate's jaw to hit the floor when I walked in. Instead it was my jaw that dropped.

I don't think I'll ever recover from the shock I felt after seeing what I saw. There were two men sitting on my living room couch, casually chatting and watching TV.

One of the men was Nate. He sat there in a drunken stupor, an unshaven, unshowered, boozed-out mess. He was in the same clothes he wore when we were doing house projects together.

The man on the other end of the couch was his tenant and my lover- John. As I walked into the room, John greeted me with a smirking smile, while Nate greeted me with an expression that could best be described as a "drunken daze". I noticed that they both had glasses of the punch made with the rum John bought in Aruba. A half a glass of that stuff had made me woozy- Nate's glass was nearly empty, and who knows how many he'd had before it?

While Nate sported a quizzical look, John smiled and was in full "treat her like the landlord's wife" mode when he said that I looked great, and asked if I would like to join he and Nate for a drink. He mentioned that he and Nate had been hanging out for a while and that it was nice getting to know his neighbors better. Nate then blurted out that I "looked like a goddamned hooker" in a disdainful tone.

I swear…if I had a gun I would have shot the miserable son of a bitch. I was angry, hurt, and betrayed beyond words. I went all out to have a wonderful night with my husband, and he thanks me by getting drunk and saying such a thing.

Was I angry with John? No, I wasn't. I'm sure John got Nate drunk on purpose- but Nate could have said no, or exhibited some self control. John once again had outsmarted everyone and was running the show. Whatever it is he wanted that night, I was sure he'd get it.

While Nate slurred out some incoherent nonsense, John politely asked me to help him carry the next round of drinks. I could barely face him, since I was so humiliated by my husband's callous remark. While in the kitchen John grabbed me and quickly gave me long, hot kiss. We ran our tongues in and out of each other's mouths - with my husband in the next room- when John pulled away and whispered "don't listen to him- I think you look incredible".

There's a "classic rock" song by a band named Heart titled "Magic Man". That was John- he performed his magic, and his actions and words completely changed my mood. What Nate had said suddenly meant nothing. John liked the way I looked, and that's all that was truly important.

John prepared three more drinks, despite the fact that his own glass was still half full. As we arrived back in the living room, Nate took his glass and guzzled half of it down. These were STRONG drinks, and he was already blitzed out of his mind. I sat between the two on the couch while John and I made the kind of pleasant conversation usually reserved for people who are barely acquainted. Nate quietly sat back and finished the rest of his drink in less than five minutes. As soon as Nate finished the last sip, John quickly offered him the full drink on the table. Nate slurred "no, that's yours", but John said he could make another. What a surprise…Nate accepted the offer.

As John and I continued to talk, it was obvious that we were like two magnets being drawn toward each other. We gazed into each other's eyes, talked and laughed. The only thing that broke that up was when John motioned for me to keep sipping my drink. Meanwhile, Nate was so drunk that I don't think he could stand up- he was probably more inebriated than I'd ever seen, and that is most certainly saying something. John whispered to me to finish half of my drink, and I did as quickly as I could. We all had a half-full glass remaining.

John then got Nate's attention and said "I want to make a toast- to the nicest landlords a guy could ask for". We all touched glasses and John exclaimed "Down the hatch!".

We all tilted our glasses back and drank, but I couldn't handle more than one gulp. Actually, neither could Nate, but John challenged him to finish it, and Nate forced the rest of his drink down. That was great, Nate- you really proved something there.

At this point John and I were making physical contact as we talked- I had my hands on his knee, and he would occasionally run his hand up and down my arm- all with my husband inches away. It didn't matter- Nate was completely oblivious to the rest of the world. At one point I noticed that Nate's breathing had changed. I looked back and saw that he was completely passed out. John and I looked at each other, and it was if it were the moment we'd been waiting for. We once again embraced and locked in a long, passionate kiss.

John then told me to stand up, and when I did he gave me a one-word command: strip.

I was startled by the request- my husband was within arm's length, and he could wake up at any time. Then I thought about the callousness Nate had shown earlier. Screw him, I thought…if he wakes up, fine. I looked at John, and I noticed that he was reaching underneath the cushion of the couch for something. Apparently, he'd planted a digital camera there at some point. He told me to go ahead as he pointed the camera at me.

I smiled, and slowly unzipped the front of the dress I'd purchased earlier that day as John clicked away. I removed it, and then I took off my bra and panties and was standing naked before him except for my thigh-high boots.

"I'll bet you want me to leave these on" I said to him. John nodded his head and asked me to put my arms behind my head and to do a dance for him. I readily complied by pushing out my chest and shaking my hips while he continued to take photos. John then asked me to turn around and bend over, and I heard the camera clicking as he took pictures of my bare behind. From this position I looked back and saw Nate with his head tilted and his mouth wide open, sound asleep.

John then told me to lie on the carpet and spread my legs. He took a few pictures, and asked me to use my hands to spread my pussy lips apart. I thought "wow, that's really x-rated", but I complied. It was easy since I had trimmed my vaginal hair earlier that morning, which is something I usually don't do.

John then had me sit up on my knees, crawl over to him, undo his belt and his pants, and start sucking his cock- again, with my passed-out husband sitting next to him on the other end of the couch. I had really come to enjoy having John's cock in my mouth. Until recently I had never really enjoyed doing that- I used to joke that there was a reason it was called a "job"- but with John I really got into it. I flicked the head of it around in my mouth, I licked up and down it's shaft, I sucked his balls, and looked right into his eyes as I did it to gauge his reaction. It gave me great pleasure to show him pleasure. While doing this, I would occasionally peek over at Nate, giggling to myself over the irony of the situation. I was giving John my best, as slurping noises echoed throughout the room.

I again peeked over at Nate- and his eyes were open! He looked confused as a squinted and tried to focus in on what was going on. Not only did I not care, I looked right at him and smirked while I sucked John's cock even more intensely. I finally looked up at John and said "do you wanna fuck me, babe?" John answered yes, and told me to get on top and ride him.

I got on top of John and let out a grunt of delight as I began impaling myself on John's beautiful cock. I started bouncing up and down, and I put my hands behind my head so John could suck my tits as he screwed me. I looked over at Nate and smiled- he looked so bloody sad. He wasn't even watching- he just looked downward with an expression of defeat on his face. I looked back into John's eyes as he bounced me up and down on his penis. I couldn't help but loudly moan and groan in ecstasy.

For a moment I glanced over at Nate to see if he was enjoying the show- but he was passed out again! You would think me screwing another guy's brains out would be enough to keep his attention, but I guess not. Seriously, I drank one glass of that stuff and I was really buzzed- Nate drank three times that after I'd arrived, and who can even guess how much he had beforehand.

I was just about to climax when John's breathing changed- he was about to cum as well. This got me even more turned on as we came together. I must have orgasmed for close to sixty seconds. I gasped for breath and came harder, longer, and probably louder than I ever had in my life.

As John got softer and softer I tried to keep him inside of me for as long as I could. When he finally popped out, I held him as close to me. I couldn't believe what I'd just done, and I wondered what the ramifications would be the next day when Nate came to. I actually shared that thought with John, and he predicted that Nate was so far gone that he wouldn't remember anything he'd seen, if he even comprehended anything he'd seen at all.

I went to excuse myself and John asked where I was going. I explained that I needed to use the bathroom, and John asked if I had to pee. I said yes, and John blew my mind with his latest request.

He wanted me to pee on Nate.

I must have turned beet red as I told him that he couldn't be serious. John told me to take aim and piss right in his lap. John guaranteed that Nate wouldn't wake up. In fact, John said that Nate would blame himself for the mess in the morning.

I was incredibly nervous as I straddled Nate, facing him while aiming my crotch above his lap. The whole time, Nate barely moved. He was in a deep sleep, like a bear in hibernation. I was praying that most of it would get on my husband and not the couch…then again, this might be a great excuse to get a new couch, which I wouldn't have minded.

The nervousness made it difficult for me to pee, but I was able to concentrate, clear my mind, and get a jet stream going. John started laughing out loud as the sound of my wetness started to fill the room. I squeezed out every last drop I could, then gingerly hopped off and inspected my work.

It was amazing- Nate had a giant wet spot in his lap and on the tops of his legs. It truly looked like the only explanation for it was that he wet his pants. John and I laughed hysterically over it.

Never to be outdone, John stood up and aimed his penis at Nate's lap. He shot out the yellowy liquid all over my husband, but didn't aim for one spot like I did. John got it all over his legs, his hands, and his lap- Nate was completely soaked from the waist down. It's a good thing we have hardwood floors in the living room.

As John finished, he did an impersonation of Nate, blurting out "you look like a hooker" while mocking my husband's nasally, drunken tone. I passionately kissed John and held him close to me, thanking him for making my night far better than I ever could have expected it to be. I then asked for a favor- could we go upstairs and watch the porn we did together? John agreed, and after I got incredibly turned on witnessing myself acting as John's dirty little slut on camera, we once again engaged in incredible sex. It had been a fantastic night despite the unexpected turns.

I got back downstairs, and I finally took my boots off on the living room chair as I watched Nate sleep. The man was a disgrace- he had a chance to enjoy a fantastic evening with his wife, and look how his night ended up…passed out drunk and covered in piss. My feelings of scorn for him had reached new levels.

I changed into pajamas and went to bed, falling asleep quickly. Before I knew it, it was 6:00 AM. I rolled out of bed, put on my robe, and passed by Nate as I went to get the Sunday newspaper. Nate was now lying down on the couch, sleeping on his side, still drenched in urine.

I got the paper, took about half of it out, and rolled the rest up. I walked toward Nate and with the rolled up newspaper I hit him squarely in the face with the most powerful blow could muster up. I knocked my stunned husband right out of dreamland and continued to pummel his face with the newspaper until he fell off the couch and onto the floor.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" I screamed at him. "Look what you've done- you pissed all over the place!" As he grunted and whined I continued to batter him about the head with the newspaper, vocally comparing my treatment of him to the way a master treats his dog when the dog pisses on the rug.

That actually gave me an idea. Nate was hopelessly hung over, so as he tried to crawl away I took his arms out from under him and rubbed his face in the pile of urine on the hardwood floor, saying that's what you do to a dog that doesn't know where to pee.

When I got off him Nate clumsily rolled over on his back to get his face out of the mess, and I further berated him for rolling around in piss. I laughed and told him that he had no idea how pathetic he looked- and how pathetic he was.

Suddenly my cell phone went off in the other room- it was John, and he was calling to see if I was OK. Geez, I'd yelled so loudly at Nate that I'd awakened him. I quietly said everything was fine…but would it be OK if I came up there and got some more sleep? John agreed and told me to be careful.

I went through the motions of getting dressed, storming out of the house, parking my car around the corner, walking back, and sneaking up to John's apartment. Before doing so I told Nate that I was going out, and that he was to have everything cleaned up by the time I got home. Nate sat up on the floor, said he was sorry, and tried to cry- anything to get me to feel sorry for him.

When I got up to John's apartment I stripped off all of my clothes and fell back asleep in his arms. It was a wonderful feeling.

Later that day I picked up my kids and headed home. Nate was ashamed of himself, and extremely apologetic- but I didn't want to hear it. John was right- I could tell with 100% certainty that Nate didn't remember a thing about the events he witnessed the night before. I was so disgusted with Nate that I called my friend Caroline- who was divorced and lived alone- and asked if I could hang out there for a few hours that night. She accepted, and I appreciated it- at that point, anything was better than having to spend a night listening to Nate's phony apologies. He'd be off to New York on Monday morning, and he'd be out of my hair.

I love getting feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think of what's happened to me. I've had a few e-mails criticizing me, as a married woman, carrying on like this. My response, in Ann Wilson's prose:

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile
"I cast my spell of love on you, a woman from a child!
But try to understand, try to understand, oh ... oh ...
Try try to understand
Try try try to understand
He's a magic man!"