A Newlywed Spark Returns

My husband Mark and I have been married now a year and a half, but our marriage almost didn't survive the first year. It wasn't because of infidelity or anything like that. It was a simple case of not understanding each other's expectations, and not communicating enough. My name is Beth. I'm twenty-eight years old. I keep reasonably it, but I'm no lingerie model. I'm five seven and a hundred and thirty-five pounds. I have dark brown hair that I keep about shoulder length. My breasts are 34B. Mark's a year older and I think he's a good looking guy. He's six feet tall, and he likes to run and bike.

Mark and I hadn't lived together before we got married like a lot of people do these days, except for the month immediately before the wedding when we closed on our new house. It's a small two, bedroom ranch in a good suburban neighborhood. The typical starter home. But at eleven hundred square feet, it wasn't much bigger than either of our apartments.

So basically, twice as many people and "stuff" in half the living space. It took some adjusting. Since we didn't have kids, and didn't plan to for a while, we stored our seasonal and more seldom used clothes in the closet of the second bedroom. The basement was unfinished and the only thing down there was the laundry and mechanicals. The plan was to finish it when we started to have kids, but for now that's where we put our workout gear. I was a little disappointed I wouldn't be able to watch TV when I was on the treadmill, but sacrifices had to be made.

I'm a technical writer for a health care software company, so I have a typical office job, but Mark works a lot from home. He's an operations consultant that helps small businesses with things like improving their purchasing, hiring practices and stuff like that. He's out of town working at clients on an average of two days a week. But he needed a space for his computer and a quiet place for conference calls. His big computer screen looked stupid on our dining room table when friends came over to see the house, so he put together a homemade desk out of plywood and filing cabinets in the basement. We found that most of our adjustments worked really well. Mark's "office" was especially effective. He couldn't hear anything down there except for water running through the pipes.

My dad is a Presbyterian minister. When I was growing up, my mom insistently told me that I couldn't do anything that would embarrass him in front of the congregation. She had her big three she wanted me to promise I wouldn't make mistakes with: alcohol, drugs and boys. I didn't rebel like some ministers' kids do. We lived in a small town and I new how word could get around.

So when I met Mark, I wasn't pure as the driven snow, but my sexual experience was pretty vanilla. Mark expanded my horizons quite a bit when we started dating. Screwing in different positions. Oral sex. Sixty-nine. I had a healthy sex drive, and enjoyed learning and sharing our bodies with each other.

Once we got settled in our new home, for the first month or two, we still had the honeymoon spark in the bedroom. We made love probably three times a week, whenever the mood hit us. The novelty started wearing off for me though, after a while. And four months in we were like an old couple, lucky if we were having sex twice a month.

I knew Mark was frustrated. He'd roll over in bed at night and suggestively stroke my leg or breast. Sometimes I just wasn't in the mood and I told him that. Sometimes I would tell him to do it for himself and lay there as he screwed me with very little arousal on my part. Sometimes he'd settle for a hand job. When I really felt guilty, I'd give him a blow job. I'm not a fan of swallowing. I tried to once with a prior boyfriend, and couldn't suppress my gag reflex. I've avoided it ever since. So I either spit out Mark's load, or if I sensed he was going to cum, I would take his penis out of my mouth and jack him off onto his chest.

I knew our relationship was getting strained, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. I was under timeline pressures at work, and I was pretty distracted. Physical intimacy just wasn't as important to me as connecting with my husband through conversation and mutual support. Mark was the opposite. For him to be attentive and kind outside of the bedroom, I guess he needed more frequent sex to take the edge off.

That all began to change on MLK day. I know that was the day because it was company holiday for me, but Mark had to work. I was disappointed at first that we couldn't do something together, but when we got up that morning, it was raining and pretty miserable. I went for a run anyway, thinking up a meal plan for the week as I jogged. When I got back to the house, I showered and then sat down and wrote out a grocery list. Mark was working in the basement, so I went down to tell him I was going to the store.

"Can you think of anything we need from the store," I asked him. "I'm going to go shop for the week."

"Can you get some diet cola?," he replied. "We're completely out."

"Sure. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of. Thanks."

There was hardly anyone at the store, and I had a good list, so I got through my shopping in record time. When I got back from the store, I brought the bags in from the car and then took my wet shoes off and left them by the door. I unloaded the groceries and put everything away. Then I put some ice in a glass and poured Mark a soda. He doesn't like coffee, but needs his caffeine. He's as bad as I am when I don't have my morning cup.

I went down to the basement to give him his drink, but when I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I came up short. Mark was sitting at his desk with his pants and underwear around his ankles, slowly stroking his cock. That stunned me, but what was more shocking was what was on the computer screen. There was a video playing of a woman who was bound, spread eagled on a bed. Some sort of machine was driving a huge black dildo in and out of her pussy, which was shaved completely bald. I must have gasped because Mark became aware that I was there and turned around, startled.

"Beth!," he shouted as he scrambled for the mouse and closed the video, and then struggled to pull up his pants over his very obvious erection.

"What are you watching Mark? What are you doing?," I almost cried, although I knew the answer to both questions.

"I didn't think you'd be back yet. And, well, you know we haven't been having much sex. I'm just horny. I'm sorry."

I simply didn't know what to say, so I just went back upstairs, carrying the undelivered soda with me.

The rest of the day was tense, and the space between us in bed that night was like the Grand Canyon. Mark wanted to talk about it, but for some reason, my feelings were hurt. It was almost like he had cheated on me, even though I knew that was ridiculous. I wasn't naïve. I knew he masturbated. We had talked about it occasionally when we were dating. We joked about how he'd have to take care of himself sometimes when we hadn't been able to see each other for a while. But I was finding that now that we were married, I felt really different about it.

By coincidence, and I guess fortunately, Mark had to leave early the next morning on a two day trip. It would allow us some time apart to cool down.

I was thought about the episode the entire time I was at work the next day. Not so much about Mark playing with himself, although that continued to bother me, but about what he was watching. I had never imagined such a thing. I mean, I knew about bondage and other kinky sex, but to be fucked by a machine was something I didn't know people did.

That night, when I got home, I changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I tossed my bra in the laundry basket too. If it wasn't for social standards at work, I'd be fine not wearing one. They aren't comfortable.

I took the laundry basket into the basement to wash some clothes. After I had sorted and started the first load, I turned to go back upstairs, but caught myself staring at Mark's computer. I continued to be somewhat stunned by the video Mark had been watching. He'd never expressed an interest in bondage, or sex toys, and I didn't own a vibrator. When I masturbated, I was a fingers only kind of girl. So I was confused. I decided that was the key to why I was upset. They weren't secrets exactly, but Mark hadn't been totally open with me about what he thought about sexually.

I walked over and stood by Mark's desk. I tapped my fingers on the back of his chair. I really hadn't gotten a good look at the video the day before, given the emotions of the moment. Truth be told, I was curious. I sat down in Mark's chair and woke up the monitor. I opened the browser, and tabbed through the browsing history until I found the URL of an obvious porn site. I clicked on it and was redirected to the site. In an instant the thumbnail for the video he had been watching reloaded. The title was "Teen Pussy Destroyed by Fucking Machine". It said it was eight minutes long. I sat down and clicked play.

There was no way the woman was a teen. She was young, sure, but easily in her mid-twenties. The whole video looked professionally filmed with good lighting and two camera angles, one from above and one close up on the dildo plunging in and out of her vagina. I couldn't tell if she was really enjoying herself or not. She was swearing and tossing her head back and forth. I decided it was probably an act, although the dildo's assault was very real, and the woman had a light sheen of sweat on her chest and forehead. I was surprised that I felt a little flushed, and I felt a tingle in my crotch that I knew was the beginnings of arousal. I watched the clip until the end, when the woman flailed around in what may or may not have been a real orgasm.

I looked down at the bottom of the screen and there were a series of thumbnails under the banner "related videos". Some of the scenes had a woman tied up, some had titles about giant vibrators, some showed similar mechanical devices. One of the thumbnails caught my eye. The title was "Amateur Fucking Machine BJ Cum in Mouth". It showed a woman bent doggy style over some sort of wedge pillow, a machine positioned at her rear, and a man laying at her head with his legs spread on either side of her. His cock was in her mouth. It was twenty-two minutes long. The camera looked to be positioned slightly above and behind them, and off to one side. It must be on a book case or a dresser I thought. I only hesitated for a moment before pushing play.

The video started with the woman bent over the pillow, looking back over her shoulder at her partner. He was applying lubricant to the dildo. When he was done, he worked to position the fake cock at the entrance to her vagina. The dildo was massive, and purple. It was much bigger than any cock I had ever seen. I couldn't believe it was going to fit inside her. Her mound was cleanly shaven, so it was easy to see as the man put the tip into her tunnel and then used the controls to initiate the machine's motion. It slowly pushed the dildo forward, inserting it into her cunt. The woman adjusted forward on the bed a little bit, and then looked over her shoulder at the guy and smiled. He stood there stroking his cock as he watched the dildo go in and out.

"I'm ready," she said, as she settled her chest down onto the supporting pillow. The guy handed her the controls and then went to the head of the bed and climbed on. He positioned his legs on either side of her and she took his cock in her mouth. Then she reached over for the control and turned a knob to adjust the speed of the machine. I couldn't believe the pace she set it at. It was going like a jackhammer. I thought there was no way she can ride this for twenty-two minutes.

I was getting really turned on now, and I knew things were going on below my waist. I put a hand down the front of my shorts to find my clit. My panties were already very slick. I hadn't played with myself since before we were married. Mark kept me sexually satisfied, but I was so aroused I couldn't help myself.

"Tell me when you are going to cum," said the guy on the bed. She just nodded her head and continue to suck on his dick. Eight minutes into the video, the woman took her mouth off his cock, and lay her head on his thigh.

"I'm going to cum," she panted.

She kept stroking his cock with her hand as her orgasm hit. She let out a big groan and curled her toes as she went into the throes of her climax. It was all just so erotic that I decided I was going to have to cum too.

I stood up and stripped off my shorts and now soaking panties and dropped them next to the chair. I turned up the volume of on the computer speakers. Now I could hear the insistent mechanical sounds of the machine extending and retracting. I reclined the chair, put my feet up on the desk, and spread my legs for better access. I watched the screen as the woman's pussy lips were stretched on each inward thrust of the invading dildo. The lips would then cling to the dildo as it retreated, only to be split wide open again.

I started to more vigorously rub my clit, and the sensations deepened in my pussy. It was fourteen minutes in now, and again the woman paused her sucking.

"Cumming again, cumming. Fuck!," she almost screamed. Tremors coursed through her body for almost two minutes, and it looked like she had at least two orgasms. I was amazed. I had never been able to achieve multiple orgasms. Shortly after, she caught her breath and went back to giving the guy head.

My pussy was now dripping onto the chair. My clit was on fire. My breathing was ragged. I pulled my tshirt up over my breasts with my free hand and started twisting at my nipple.

At eighteen minutes, the woman started loudly moaning, but didn't take her mouth off of the cock. Her legs began to twitch, and she was obviously cumming again. The sight of the machine viciously pushing the huge dildo into her, combined with sound of her moaning in ecstasy around the guy's erection took me over the edge. My vagina was wracked by spasm after quaking spasm. I kept rubbing my clit as I hit the peak. I closed my eyes and came so hard that I almost tipped over in the chair.

Gradually, I started to calm down and opened my eyes to watch the end of the video. The woman had turned off the machine, but the dildo was still buried in her cunt. She was rapidly bobbing her head up and down the guys pole, sucking for all she was worth.

"Here it comes honey," he groaned.

She took as much of the cock as she could in her mouth. Moments later, he arched his hips off the bed. I knew he was filling her mouth with his load, and I watched as she worked to swallow it all. When she was done, she collapsed and the dildo slipped out of her.

I closed the video and took stock of what I had seen and done. I realized it wasn't any different than what Mark had been doing, when I interrupted him. I decided I probably owed him an apology. I got up on my shaky legs and pulled my tshirt back down over my breasts. I cleaned up the chair with some tissue and put on my shorts. I tossed my damp panties in the laundry basket and went back upstairs.

I thought a lot about sex for the rest of that evening, and the next day. My mind wandered the whole time I was at work. I found myself replaying the video in my head and getting wet all over again. I was horny, and looking forward to when Mark got home that night so that I could fuck him.

I got home before Mark. I changed into some leggings with no panties, and a loose sweatshirt with no bra. I was anticipating that I would want to be able to quickly disrobe at some point later that evening. I was happy that I had some time to make a nice dinner. It was nice out, so we took our food out onto our tiny backyard patio. Mark opened a bottle of wine, which we quickly empty. After we ate, we went back into the kitchen to clean things up. Mark rinsed the dishes and I put them in the dishwasher. I closed the dishwasher door and started it, and then moved in close to Mark.

"How about an early bedtime?," I asked with a come hither look. I dropped my hand down to the crotch of his pants and rubbed him up and down. Mark leaned back and looked at me in surprise.

"Really? You're sure? I thought you were mad at me for, you know, the porn thing."

"Yes. I'm sure. I've been thinking about that a lot, and I guess I think I over-reacted." I took his hand and started toward the bedroom. "C'mon, I'll make it up to you".

When we got to the bedroom, I turned and started to take off Mark's shirt.

"I have a confession to make," I said, and I told him about going downstairs and watching the video again. I didn't tell him about the second, amateur video of the fucking machine, or how I had masturbated myself to an huge orgasm watching it.

"What turned you on about that video Mark?," I asked as I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. I could see the crimson head of his cock peeking out past the elastic of his underwear. He was very hard.

"Was it the machine? The bondage? The size of the dildo? The woman's shaved mound? What kind of videos do you usually watch when you, um, you know, jack off?"

I pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles and his erection popped out and stood stiffly at attention. I pushed him back onto the bed and he watched as I took my sweatshirt off over my head and let my breasts fall free. My nipples were as hard as diamonds. I peeled my leggings off and climbed onto the bed. Mark reached for me, but I shook my head and straddled his hips. I grabbed his cock and mounted it, slowly lowering myself down onto his hot, hard tool.

"You're really wet," Mark said, sounding a little bit surprised.

"Yes, but don't change the subject, answer the question," I said as I begin to move up and down on his manhood.

"Well, I suppose I've always been interested in sex toys, the machine is a little extreme, but I like watching women with vibrators. Light bondage is a turn on. The hard core stuff I don't like. Bald pussies are a turn on too. So I guess all of it?"

"Interesting," I said as I began to ride him faster. "Why haven't you ever mentioned any of that?"

"I just figured you may think I was some sort of pervert. Your dad's a minister after all. I was afraid you wouldn't be open to any of that kind of stuff."

I answered him by looking him directly in the eyes as I reached down with one hand and started to rub my clit as I kept bouncing myself on his pole. I had seldom touched myself with Mark, and his eyes went wide.

"Jesus Beth, does that kind of stuff turn you on?"

I was starting to pant. My juices were now running down Mark's cock. My fingers were having the desired effect. I started tugging on my nipple and my orgasm overtook me. I threw back my head and came all over Mark's cock.

"Ohhhhh goodddddd. I'mmmmm cummminnnngggg!"

I was still robustly fucking Mark as my pussy shuddered. At the same time, Mark groaned and shoved his cock aggressively into me. I could feel his cock expand and start to pump his seed inside of me. As my orgasm subsided, I dismounted him and lay down to snuggle up to his side.

"That felt so good Mark. Was it good for you?"

"Are you kidding? It was great."

"I'm sorry for how I've been kind of cold. I'll try to change, but you need to work with me too. How you treat me during the day matters. It's like foreplay for me. I liked the little hugs and kisses you used to give me when we were dating. We don't hold hands any more. That kind of stuff is important to me, and I didn't realize how much I missed it."

"I can understand that. I guess I got into kind of rut. I'll try to change too, starting now." And he gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Where do you even get the kind of stuff that's in that video anyway. The machine and the ropes and things?"