Toys

My husband, like most men, is a gadget freak. He likes nothing better than some new toy. It makes Christmas and birthdays very easy for me -- well, that was until he started to buy his own toys.

Before I go any further I had better introduce myself. I'm Sally, 39, slim (after that diet I should be) and I can still get into my wedding dress. My vitals are 34E-24-36, a bit of an old fashioned figure, but the curves are in the right places. If only I could lose a bit more off my bum! I'm married to Chris, 43, six feet six in his socks and oh so handsome. He still only has to look at me with those big brown eyes to make me feel weak at the knees.

Yes, we are as much in love as the day we married. I was 18 then and that's a long time to remain infatuated with the same man. But he turns me on all the time. His only fault (if it can be called a fault) is he has this slight inclination to be masterful. This is probably because I compliment him by being very submissive, so in all those years have never challenged his authority.

Back to the subject of his toys; as I said, I love to buy him gadgets for presents - things like the remote controlled indoor helicopter he got for Christmas this year or anything for his beloved computer is always very welcome. However, he has developed a liking for sex toys, not for himself but for him to use on me.

Now don't think I'm complaining - it can be a lot of fun to be driven to countless orgasms with a rabbit or have that butterfly strapped to my pussy for hours at a time keeping me on the verge of climax till he takes it off and, well, you know exactly what don't you? The whole point of writing this account of his toys is to tell you about his latest find, a remote controlled egg.

For those not initiated into the wonderful art of sex toys an egg is just that, an egg shaped plastic sphere that inserts into your pussy. The remote radio-control can be used several yards away to start, stop, increase the sensations, and to change the program. No, not the TV programme; it has several different modes from a soft vibration, to a throbbing wild thing.

At first it was fun for him to be in another room and, suddenly, the egg would start to vibrate deep inside me, sending wonderful sensations through me, making me long for his big hard cock. He has brought me to orgasm with this thing several times and he has made me beg him to take it out and 'fuck me', a word I would never use except in those circumstances.

All this is a bit tame for this site you may be thinking, however I am just getting to the real story of this egg and my husband's domination of me sexually.

We were going to a dinner/dance one night. It was his company 'do' just before Christmas. He bought me a fantastic trouser suit for the occasion, silk and very flattering. I felt very pampered and sexy wearing this designer outfit, the trousers flared from the knee and the sleeves likewise from the elbow. The pants fitted my new slimmer bum so tight it made my bum look quite exposed. I only ever wear a thong so no visible panty lines.

On that evening we were in the bedroom getting ready to go out. I had showered and done my hair. My makeup as good as I was able to make it and, yes, looking in the mirror I was quite pleased with the overall effect. As I was about to step into my new lacy thong with matching bra he had brought home for me that day, he said "Wait a minute", and opened his bedside drawer.

I wondered what on earth he had got me now, but when he brought out the egg I looked at the clock and said "We don't have time to mess around with that now, wait till we come home."

That wicked look he sometimes has crossed his face as he replied "We have all night" and, sitting me on the bed, he moistened the egg with his mouth and inserted it deep inside me. Now I know I should have objected but I am well aware of how persuasive he can be, so just accepted his will. We finished dressing and as we left the bedroom he slipped the remote control into his pocket.

As we sped along the motorway to our rendezvous he turned it on, making me squirm in the seat, my heart in my mouth as I knew he would be giving me thrills with the egg all night. I would be absolutely gagging for it by the time we got home. He had used it on me in the most inappropriate places before but only on our own, never in company. How on earth was I going to handle it?

By the time we had reached the venue I was almost climaxing. He had turned it on and off several times, not just for his amusement but for my pleasure as well.

It was a formal dinner so we sat opposite each other at the table with alternate male and female guests; I sat between his boss and another man whom I hadn't met before.

My husband's boss is a lecherous old man with a terrible reputation in the office for leering at the young females at every opportunity. It was general knowledge that he would take every advantage of his position as the managing director to get into their knickers. The stories about him and any girl silly enough to submit to his advances were rife and some of them were probably true.

Before the soup course had been served he had turned that thing on a couple of times. I was sure the buzzing could be heard by the men sitting either side of me.

I kicked him under the table as he flicked the switch in his pocket, making me tense my tummy muscles as another wave of sensations swept through me.

All through dinner he kept it up, holding me in suspense just short of climaxing, watching my eyes for that tell tale sign and stopping just in time. I was trying so hard to keep up a conversation with the other people at the table but had to keep biting my lip to stop myself from crying out in ecstasy.

At last the dinner was over. I was able to speak to him and I begged him to let me go to the ladies room and take it out, but he said "No it stays in all night, you love it really." He was right. I did love the feelings it created inside me but not here in mixed company where I was conscious of the position he held and how I was supposed to behave.

The tables cleared and the band on went stage. His boss came up and said "May I have this dance with your charming wife Chris?" Cheeky old bugger, he could have asked me! I had danced with him before; he was good sweeping me across the floor to the applause of the assembled company.

I don't want to sound immodest but I can dance pretty well. We made an impressive couple as he waltzed me round the room, until that is my darling husband turned that damn thing on again. I had momentarily forgotten about that egg, it made my knees go weak, faltering in my steps, almost falling over. Thank God he didn't keep it on for long - only a few seconds, but that was quite enough. I was going to have words with him.

As his boss walked me back to our table he asked if I was alright. "You look a little flushed," he said, sounding quite concerned.

I sat down beside Chris asking him to come outside with me, he smiled and said "Can't you wait till we get home? Do you want it in the car park?" I totally despair of him at times. He thinks sex is the only thing on my mind. He's not so far out, but at this moment I could kill him.

Telling him I needed to talk to him urgently, he escorted me out to the car park; I told him it was just too much when he almost made me come on the dance floor with everybody looking on and his lecherous old boss holding me. "Please," I begged him, "Let me take it out." He promised not to switch it on again if I left it in. Am I a complete fool or what!? I knew as well as he did it was an empty promise; he couldn't resist the opportunity to turn me on, especially in this room crowded with his work colleagues and their wives. I couldn't believe it he actually didn't turn it on again for ages. Perhaps my entreaties had worked, as the evening wore on and several of the older staff left for an early night.

The band slowed the tempo and most couples were just smooching around the floor. He took me in his arms and we joined the throng weaving around to the strains of some old love song. His hand left my back for a moment and the effect of those delightful pulses hit me again, sending shivers down my spine and some very naughty sensations through my body. His arm returned into place on my back.

How long was he going to leave it throbbing in my pussy? He didn't seem to care that it was driving me to distraction, bringing me closer to orgasm by the second.

He held me as the first spasm of orgasmic pleasure swept through me. If he hadn't have been holding me tight I would have collapsed in an orgasmic heap in the middle of the dance floor. Still he didn't turn it off; the feelings were getting greater as I went into a full climax in his arms, hanging on to him for support. I kept biting my lip to prevent myself from crying out in orgasmic pleasure and when the music stopped he switched it off and helped me to my seat, a quivering wreck. I tried to scold him but it was like water off a ducks back, he just smiled and said "So you didn't enjoy it then," knowing how much I love to come.

The last waltz struck up. He led me onto the floor and, as we stepped onto the hardwood, one of his friends and his wife whom we often get together with as friends met us. Mike asked if he could have a dance with me. Smiling in his cheeky way he said "How about a wife swap." His wife Gill slapped him playfully and moved into Chris's arms.

Mike swept me onto the floor. Again he was a much better dancer that my hubby who almost totally lacks any sense of rhythm. As we swayed to the music I just knew what would happen any moment....and it did. I felt the thing inside me start to buzz gently at first, but get stronger as each second slipped by. Then it changed tempo. Chris might not be able to understand music very well but he knew just how to play my tune. I had no choice but to cling to Mike as if my life depended on it. He looked a little shocked because I'm normally quite well behaved, never drinking too much and so always in charge of my emotions.

Was that crazy man of mine going to make me come in someone else's arms? Quite possible! He has been that reckless at other times but never in a place like this, with me in another mans arms.

Forget the formal dance hold; my arms went round Mike's neck just hanging on for dear life as that egg brought me closer every second to another climax. Was my dearest going to stop it in time? Did I really want him too? Was I so turned on by the events of the evening? Had I lost my inhibitions enough to want to have a full blown climax in the arms of a virtual stranger? The choice wasn't mine; it was entirely his, the bad man. I groaned as the first tingling sensations crept into my pussy. He wasn't going to stop, should I run for my life or just hang onto Mike? Whatever was he going to think of me obviously having an orgasm in his arms in the middle of the dance floor? Whatever he thought I was not really aware of his reactions as my knees went weak and my body strained to stay upright. My wicked husband had made me come while dancing with another man.

Mike was worried about me. I think he thought I had fainted, at least I hoped that was what he thought. What if he knew just what had happened while he was dancing with me? He led me back to the table offering all sorts of comforting advice, "Put your head between your knees," he said "if you feel faint."

He got me a glass of water, thinking it would revive me; I needed a big whip to thrash my husband not a glass of water. I was really angry with him, wanted to smash him in the mouth for what he had just done, but as he led Gill back to her table he smiled at me with that wonderful boyish charm, making my tummy turn somersaults. He knew he could get away with anything he liked with me; just giving me that smile, knowing it would melt my heart.

Goodbyes all round, lots of kisses from friends and some who were drunk enough to think they were bosom pals and out to the car. He didn't say anything till we got on the road. Then he smiled at me saying "Well did you enjoy that?"

"Some of it," I replied.

"Oh, which bits didn't you like," he asked, as innocent as a baby.

I said "You shouldn't have done that to me when I was dancing with other men"

He said "So you don't like orgasms any more? That's a pity because I thought you might like several more before you go to sleep tonight". He knew I couldn't deny I had enjoyed being made to climax in public; he had done it before but not by remote control and not in some other man's arms. He looked across at me and switched that egg on again. As I tensed in the seat he said "Shall I turn it off then?"

I managed a strangled "No."

Within a mile, even at motorway speed I was thrashing around in the seat as wave after wave of pure orgasmic pleasure swept through me. I was as turned on as I have ever been. He pressed a button and the seat gently let me fall back into a more comfortable position, almost laying down, giving me room to stretch my legs as my orgasm soared through me. After about five or six miles of constant orgasmic bliss he turned it off, saying "You need a rest for a while." Yes, I thought, about a week would be good. But knowing him, as I do, a few minutes till he dreamed up something else was about my limit.

Off the motorway onto country roads he drove with his usual care, till we came to a very nice picnic area. He turned into the car park, stopping the car near one of those cross legged tables with the seats fixed on either side. There were other cars scattered round the area, but none close to where he parked. I thought they, like us, were enjoying a little passion in the outdoors. How innocent must you think I am?

It was a beautiful summer's night; well early morning actually, the moon giving enough light to be able to see quite clearly. I thought at last he's getting romantic!

He got out and held my door open for me, helping me out of the low sports car. My light cream silk trouser suit looked almost luminescent as I stepped into the moonlight. Leading me to the picnic table he took me in his arms holding me tight to his body. I could feel the bulge in his trousers as he held me tight. He lifted me up so my bum was on the table and then proceeded to take my trousers down, slipping them right off my feet, taking my shoes with them. Then my thong, he pushed me back gently till I was laying on the table top, my pussy bared to his view. He reached into his pocket and turned that damn egg on again.

Slipping his fingers into my wet pussy as the egg started to work its magic on my body, his fingers crooked to find my "G" spot and his thumb on my clitty. I didn't care we were exposed in the open. I wanted satisfaction. I needed his big hard cock inside me. All my anger at his embarrassing me throughout the evening was gone, evaporated, with my longing for his cock.

As you can imagine it only took seconds for his combined efforts with the egg to bring me to orgasm. Oh, what a fantastic feeling as it sort of crept up on me then at the very last moment it hit me so hard, making me cry out with lust as it ripped through my shaking body. I was screaming at him to fuck me. "Stick your cock in me now." All sorts of obscenities were leaving my lips; things I would never say at any other time. "Please, oh please fuck me now", I cried.

But my pussy was still full of that damn egg. He pulled it out by the little cord that still dangled out of me. The feelings it caused after being inside me for hours were not as you might imagine - no relief, just an empty feeling. It made my desire for his cock even greater, I was still begging him for it as he dropped his trousers and presented his straining cock to my lips. As he pushed it into me I climaxed yet again.

How many times had he driven me over the edge this evening? But more was still to come. I heard him say "We have an audience." I opened my eyes to see several men with their cocks in their hands watching as he drove his cock deep inside me. To shouts of encouragement from the dirty old men he fucked me so hard I climaxed again and again, my body just responding to the onslaught of his wonderful cock. He lifted my legs over his shoulders allowing him to penetrate even deeper. The shouts of "Go on, mate fuck the little whore hard, give it to her deep" and "Fill her with spunk." Terrible words to a woman of my breeding but turning me on just the same. One of them was close enough for me to be able to see his foreskin jerking back and forth over his shiny knob.

I just knew he was going to come over me, and for a fleeting moment I thought about my wonderful new silk suit. The top was still on me, was he going to shoot his come all over it. But a slightly harder thrust took all thoughts of silk suits out of my head as he gripped my thighs giving him leverage to power his huge cock into my so responsive pussy.

I think I must have fainted for a few seconds as I suddenly realised he was coming deep inside me, his cock pulsating with the intensity of his own orgasm.

I got not one but three of them shooting their hot come at me, not over my precious suit but right into my face. I closed my eyes but couldn't shut my mouth as I needed more air that I could take through my nose. I was gasping for breath but getting copious amounts of spunk instead, as they emptied themselves all over my carefully made up face. One of them actually asked if he could have a go! But thank goodness Chris said "No she's not for sale or hire," letting my legs down and helping me to get something like dressed.

Driving the rest of the way home in silent contemplation, I didn't know what to say. What on earth can you say to your husband when he has kept you on the brink of a climax all evening in a crowded room, then made you come in stranger's arms, finally fucking you in public?

There is only one thing to say. "Thank you darling."

PS: In a phone call from Gill on Monday, she said "Mike was really worried about you, he said it was as if you had come in his arms."

"Yes," I replied, "I must admit it sort of felt like that!"

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Thanks to all who sent me feedback about my last story. One or two suggested that I might use an editor next time, so I would like to thank 'grumpyg' for editing this story for me.