Cat Hates Shopping

Special thanks to kenjisato, a generous volunteer in Literotica.com's Volunteer Editors program, for editing this piece. All remaining errors and questionable stylistic choices are the sole responsibility of the author.

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So here's a first world problem for you: my wife and I both hate shopping. I think that's why her alter ego for our most intense role-play sessions, Cat The Brat, is obsessed with buying heels. It's a great way to separate fantasy from reality.

Unlike Cat, I can do the majority of my work from home. I don't have lectures, office hours, or quite so many regularly-scheduled meetings. It's pretty crazy that the English professor has more administrative responsibilities than the lawyer. Entire weeks go by where I don't have to don the full suit-and-tie getup and spend a day at the branch office.

That means I take one for the team and do the grocery shopping most weeks. The trip usually includes swinging by the dry cleaners, too, and sometimes the pharmacy.

I know it's not the end of the world. It's just a little boring and a little aggravating. College towns suck for driving and parking, but it's not like I'm going to walk to two different strips and then cart a bunch of groceries and clothes home in a little red wagon.

As much as I hate venturing out, though, I love coming back.

I walk in from the garage, bags in tow, and I'm immediately greeted by the sight of my naked wife. She's lying on the living room couch, casually masturbating, while our sex pet, Shayleigh, attends her. Her left hand is teasing her pussy and clit, with no real rhythm or agenda. Her other hand is playing with one of her erect, eraser-tip nipples, and occasionally massaging the smallish, perky breast it's attached to.

On her right wrist is the end of Shayleigh's black leather leash. It hangs slack for now, but it's a kinky visual reminder of the dynamic at play. Cat's eyes are closed and her lips are slightly parted. The expression on her face is serene. The entire view is incredibly sexy; it sends the message that Cat's ownership of Shayleigh, and Shayleigh's sensual service to her, are both just normal, accepted parts of our lives. I love that. It strikes a perfect balance between titillation and tranquility.

The service du moment is an intense foot rub. Shayleigh has my wife's feet in her lap, and, judging by the rest of the scene, she's doing a great job on them. I'm not surprised; she's had a lot of practice over the past few months. Our beautiful pet is wearing a pair of low-cut, satin-blue bikinis, her thick, black, Italian-leather collar, and nothing else. The collar boasts a new ownership tag as of last week: a large, flat, shiny, chrome cat's paw, with plenty of room on it for engraved text.

On one side, it reads "Property of Professor Catherine Adams, PhD."

On the other, it reads "Property of Jack Taylor, Esq."

I'm almost certain that Shayleigh's wearing an anal plug underneath those panties. At a guess, it's a smaller metal one with a heart-shaped base -- faceted faux-gemstone, sapphire. Cat likes a bit of color coordination. Cat's probably wearing a similar one, though I can't tell for sure from this angle. Do anal plugs count as clothing? Does Shayleigh's collar? These are the questions that keep me up at night -- or would, if my beautiful wife and pet weren't so good about giving me the world's best sleep aid on a regular basis.

Cat groans in pleasure when Shayleigh hits a good spot in the center of her arch. I can see the hint of a smile on her face. She heard me come in, and decided to turn up the volume. She likes to tease me in any way she can, and she knows exactly what gets me hot. It's no accident this scene was waiting for me as soon as I walked in the door.

Our pet turns her head and looks at me expectantly. She's still getting used to having two official owners. For many months, I was technically just her owner's husband.

"You just keep doing what you're doing, baby," I tell her. "I'll be over to say hi in a few minutes."

"Yes, Master," she replies happily. She refocuses on my wife's pleasure.

Meanwhile, I remember that, due to my incurable male mental illness, I'm carrying way too many grocery bags at once. I hurry to the kitchen and drop them off.

It takes me two trips to get everything inside the house, which includes some of Cat's work clothes from the dry cleaners; that's not bad, right? That means I don't have to turn in my man card. I hang up the clothes, put the food away, and get my pocket holy trinity sorted -- keys, wallet, phone. Then I make the executive decision to head back to the bedroom and strip off all my clothes. I also grab a can of lube and some towels. I don't know exactly how this afternoon rub session is going to progress, but I can be prepared.

I come back to the living room and drop my accessories off on the TV stand. The TV's actually up on the wall, but it's good to have a few empty surfaces around.

"Oh, okay," Cat says. She sees the lube, clearly. Her response to it is coy and playful, with a hint of feigned surprise.

Shayleigh, obedient pup that she is, doesn't turn to look. She takes even the friendliest directives seriously. I told her to stay focused on Cat, so that's what she's doing.

I walk over to where my wife's head is resting. I kneel down and place a hand on her soft, flat tummy. She keeps playing with herself. Our forearms rub together while we chat.

"Hey, babe," I say softly.

"Hey, babe," she replies. "How's my big, strong man? Did he show those groceries who's boss?"

I smile. She's such a sassy bitch sometimes. I love it.

"It was a close call at the door," I confess, "but I emerged triumphant."

One of these days I'm going to drop a bag, or cut off the circulation to my wrist. I mean, what else am I going to do? Not be a big, dumb idiot?

Thankfully, today was not that day.

I lean in for a kiss. Cat lifts her hand off her breast to caress my face, and I mirror the action. I try to be subtle about maneuvering my wandering hand from her stomach to her suddenly-neglected tits, but, well, we get a little tangled up with each other. I make it there eventually, though. The attraction is magnetic.

We smile and laugh into each other while we gently tongue-fence. I rub her nipple, which makes her coo into my mouth. When the kiss melts away, I dedicate both hands to caressing her body. Her breasts and nipples get lots of attention, but I make sure her tummy, neck, and shoulders get some too. I love all of my wife, even if maybe I do have some favorite bits.

"Is our pet doing a good job serving you?" I ask.

"Mmmm, she is," Cat moans. "I only wish she had more hands."

I raise my eyebrows and tickle her. She jerks a bit and giggles, but then she gets the hint. Her twin emeralds flash eagerly.

"Oh, that would be amazing, Jack!" she says. "I'll suck your cock so well afterwards, I promise."

"You've never done it poorly," I reply.

That gets another smile, and a sexy lip-bite to boot.

"Just let me say hi to Shayleigh, then we'll retire to the bedroom," I tell her.

"Of course, baby," she says.

I give her one more quick peck on the cheek, and a farewell tickle on each breast. Then I get up and take a few steps over to our pet. I run my fingers through her strawberry-blonde hair, then rub her back. I lean down and give her cheek a kiss too.

"I love that you take such good care of my wife," I tell her. "You're such a good girl."

Shayleigh beams.

"Thank you, Master," she replies.

I pet her head for a few moments, then give it two friendly pats.

"Okay, pup," I say, "we're going to move this show to the bedroom, and then each of us will take a foot. Why don't you go on ahead?"

Cat groans her agreement and her anticipation. She slips the leash end off her wrist. Shayleigh understands. She gently raises Cat's legs up and gets off the couch. Then she goes down on all fours and crawls to the bedroom. I watch her panty-covered ass wiggle as she goes.

Cat moves to get up too, but I stop her with an authoritative "Nope!" She quickly figures out what's coming.

"Wow, you're acting like I haven't sucked your cock in a month!" she says playfully.

I scoop her up in my arms and flash her a hungry look. It's moments like these when I remind myself that the weightlifting and running are both worthwhile. Cat's trim and fit, but she's also on the tall side. It's not nothing to lift her off the couch and into my arms, or to carry her to the bedroom down the hall. Thanks to my workout regimen, though, it's pretty easy. I get to look good doing it.

"I'm acting like I just can't get enough of my beautiful wife," I rumble.

She sighs happily, and gently drapes her arms around my neck and shoulders. It's a quick trip to the bedroom, but she thoroughly enjoys the free ride.

I take my time lowering Cat onto our bed. I love tossing her on it, but that's not the mood today. I shower her lips, cheeks, breasts and tummy with soft kisses, then lean back up to check on Shayleigh.

Before I can, though, Cat moves herself to the middle of the bed and splays out. I can't resist pausing for one more moment to take in the sight of her. Every single part and every single feature is sexy to me. Her own exercise regimen -- running and yoga, mostly -- lends each one of those parts its own perfect balance of firmness and softness. Her wavy hair is still a fiery red for now, and I love the striking contrast between it and her pale skin. I particularly enjoy seeing her smooth, bare pussy when her limbs are all spread out like this. In a word, it's inviting. Even though I already have other plans, it's the thought that counts. My cock is already half hard, and I haven't even touched it.

Finally, I'm able to pull my eyes away and get the afternoon moving again.

Our pet is kneeling obediently by the bed, and she's gathered up Cat's favorite lotion, plus some more hand towels. I have no doubt she did it all while never getting back on her feet. I pet her again, which elicits a dreamy smile. I unhook her leash, but keep the collar on.

"Good girl, Shayleigh," I say. "Smart girl. Go ahead and get up on the bed."

"Yes, Master," she replies, and she moves herself into position near Cat's left foot.

I join her, and take the right. We pour lotion into our hands, and begin giving my wife a four-handed, simultaneous foot rub. Feet rub? No, that doesn't sound right.

For a few minutes, Cat just groans, moans, and lets us do our thing. We tug and spread her toes, work her joints and tendons, and even slide our lotioned hands up to her toned calves. As far as I can tell from my wife's noises, Shayleigh and I can do no wrong. Cat's not pretending, though; she's not putting on a show. She'll amp up the volume for me, but she won't fake her way through a mediocre foot rub. She'll take control of the action, and make sure it gets better. If she's not giving orders, then we're doing good work.

I don't think any of us have a foot fetish per se, but I wasn't lying: I love every part of my wife. I love giving her pleasure. I love watching her react positively to my touch. Getting her off makes me feel like a sex champion, and I feel much the same right now. Every one of Cat's moans and groans is an exquisite stroke to my swelling ego.

Shayleigh, meanwhile, loves serving us, pleasing us, and obeying us. She's also a deeply sensual and sexual person in her own right. I can practically feel the love and affection radiating from her, towards Cat, as she continues with her expert foot massage. She truly is a treasure. She's worked so hard over the past few months to learn what makes us happy. She deserves every safe-word-Sunday treat we give her, and more.

Eventually, Cat's hands get involved again. They go back to where they were when I walked in from the garage: breasts, nipples, pussy, clit. She may not care about putting on a show, but she's giving us a good one regardless.

I try to stay focused on her -- well, on pleasuring her -- but the sight of her masturbating is hypnotic. I'm in a great position to watch, too. Usually, I'm fucking her -- which is amazing, of course, but it makes it harder to see this much of her incredible body at once, and especially the front of it. Doggy-style sex comes with a great visual, but never like this one. This one's a special treat.

I love watching Cat's fingers on her pussy and clit. She's the top expert in her field, after all. Even after seven years together, I'm tempted to grab a pen and paper and take notes, just in case she shows me something new that I can try on her later.

Once the lotion's been worked into Cat's feet and calves, I start adding kisses and licks to my massage. I taste hints of lavender and aloe. I cast a glance over to Shayleigh; I see her doing the same. Our eyes meet and we share a look; we both like eliciting these reactions from Cat. I wonder if it makes Shayleigh feel powerful. I wonder if Cat would be willing to stop her own fun to reassert dominance over our pet.

I get my answer pretty quickly. My wife's moans and groans intensify, and become decidedly sexual. Her breathing gets ragged.

"Jack, baby," she pants, "you know what to do. Show her."

That would be a big 'no' on reasserting dominance -- at least for now.

I nod my understanding. I know Shayleigh's eyes will be on me. I know she'll mirror my movements.

I grip Cat's ankle with my left hand. I use it to lift her leg off the bed. Then I push it up while letting the knee bend. I also push it gently to the side, spreading it more. I can sense Shayleigh doing the same with her right leg -- more tentatively, and on a bit of a delay, but she's a quick study.

Cat lifts her head up from the pillow and locks eyes with me. I'm pushing her into an incredibly vulnerable position. It's a form of doggy-style, except that she's on her back instead of on her knees. That shared intimate knowledge makes sparks fly between us. I glance down and catch sight of the base of her anal plug -- round, with ruby-red facets. Her pussy is even more exposed than it was before. I feel myself getting hotter. My cock twitches.

Once Cat's completely under my power -- well, ours, I suppose -- I slide my free hand towards her quad and begin massaging it. I reach down lower and get her ass muscles involved too. Then I slide up and inwards, teasing my fingers towards her pussy, where her own hand is starting to put in serious work. I never quite get there; she is the expert, after all, and three would be a crowd on such a pretty little thing. Still, it emphasizes the control we have over her lower body. That's why it's hot. She knows I could have my way. She knows I could penetrate her. Every feint gives her a thrill. Shayleigh might not fully understand that part. Her quad and ass massages are top quality, though. I can tell Cat's enjoying them right now, and I can also speak from past personal experience.

"Now lick the sole, Shayleigh," I direct her. "Quick, little licks. More pressure as she gets closer."

"Yes, Master," she replies.

That one brief pause is almost enough to elicit a death stare from Cat, but my wife quickly succumbs to the pleasure of six simultaneous hands on her body, plus two tongues. Her feet twitch at first from the ticklish sensations, but the extra stimulation quickly pushes her over the edge, at which point she simply submits to it. Her head falls back onto the pillow. Her eyes close, and her mouth opens.

The three of us together make her cum, and it's an achingly beautiful sight. Her breasts and tummy roll like the tide. Her breath catches, and then her powerful exhalations come out as a whispered shudder through her mouth and nose. Shayleigh and I lock her legs into position, giving the experience a hint of bondage flavor. When I give the word, we stop tickle-torturing Cat's feet with our tongues, but switch to feather touches all up and down her legs -- more terrible teasing to heighten the end of her orgasm, just a little less intense.

When Cat comes down from the peak, I kiss her feet with just my lips. I keep my hands on her leg, but let her stretch it back out and down to the bed. I get myself on the outside of it, then crawl up to join her, on my side. Shayleigh eagerly copies everything I do. We form a loose and easy Cat sandwich. I gently rub my wife's tummy and kiss her shoulder.

"Did our pet do a good job, baby?" I ask.

Cat's a bit giddy, and still lightly panting. Post-orgasm relaxation is written all over her face. She smiles lazily, and finds each of our bodies with a hand. I can tell her limbs are heavy and thick. She's a little cum-drunk. I move in closer and snuggle her. My pulsing cock rubs against her smooth thigh.

"You both did," she sighs. "Oh, that was lovely. Good job, Shayleigh. Good girl. You're such a good girl for me."

"Thank you, Professor Catherine," our pet replies. "I loved watching you cum. It was so beautiful."

"It really was," I agree. "You know, I was thinking that I don't usually get to see so much of your body while we're having sex. It was nice."

"Huh," Cat says. I can see the rest on her face, even though she's still too lazy to actually say it.

"Good point, Jack. I never thought of it like that."

Listen, that's what she meant to say, okay? Just let me have this.

I move up on the bed to give Cat forehead kisses. She accepts them happily; her lazy smile widens into a goofy grin. Shayleigh takes over rubbing her tummy.

"I love you, baby," I whisper.

"I love you, too, Professor Catherine," Shayleigh adds.

Cat finally finds the energy to give us some sass. She opens her eyes and rolls them.

"Okay you two; Jesus," she says, "you're going to make me tear up."

She pats both of us, then squirms and stretches. She scooches up to a sitting position. I'm ready with the water bottle. She accepts it gratefully, and takes a long swig. She offers it to Shayleigh, who takes a smaller drink. I do the same, then replace it on the nightstand.

"Okay, baby," Cat says, "you earned that blowjob."

"You sure?" I ask. "I mean, I definitely did, but you can take a moment - enjoy the afterglow."

She smiles and shrugs. "What I want to enjoy is some fresh cum," she declares. She reaches over and tickles my balls. "You've been teasing me with the sight of your cock this whole time, naughty boy."

"Guilty as charged," I confess. I flash her a smile, and give Shayleigh one too.

"Okay, Shay-shay," Cat says. "Help me get some cum from my naughty husband."

"Yes, Professor Catherine," she happily replies.

"Any preferences, baby?" Cat asks me.

I mull it over. Options abound. "Too soon to face-sit Shayleigh while you suck and finger me?" I ask.

Cat gives me a sympathetic look, and traces a fingertip up the length of my twitching shaft.

"A little too soon, baby," she says. "Why don't we have Shayleigh help for real? I think you'd like that."

I give her a kiss, letting her know all is well. "Back and front standing?" I offer.

"Mmmm, I was just thinking that," she replies. "Should we let Shayleigh practice massaging your prostate?"

I quickly nod. "We should, indeed," I say, "after some licking, of course."

"Of course," my wife echoes -- though with extra sass. She's back with us completely now.

"Shayleigh," she says, "stay up and fetch the lube and towels Jack left in the living room, then back here, quick quick. Keep them with you when you take your new position."

"Yes, Professor Catherine," Shayleigh replies, and then she's off.

Cat and I get up off the bed. We toss two pillows to the ground, putting one roughly where Shayleigh will end up.

Cat sinks slowly to her knees, tracing her fingertips down the front of my body and legs. I sigh with pleasure. She keeps up those light, teasing touches as she moves in close and begins giving my ball sack little licks.