Compromised

Megan suddenly noticed that her hands were up her skirt as she sat on the stool. Her left hand was pulling her panties to the side, and her right hand was circling her clit, just as she remembered Eric once doing. She felt embarrassed, and almost pulled her hands out from under her skirt, but she stopped herself.

Hadn't Eric said he fantasized about watching her pleasure herself? The idea had previously struck her as shameful, but now that Eric was actually watching her do it, she felt a flush of arousal. Her circling fingers found their passage eased by an increasing wetness in her panties.

"Megan?" Eric repeated.

She answered by way of smiling as she lifted up her skirt to give him a better view. She kicked herself again. She had worn sex panties yesterday when she thought they were going to make love, but since they had fought last night, she had opted for another pair of practical panties. Disgusted, she pulled them down and kicked them off her feet, then raised her skirt above her hips and sat back down.

Eric had stopped scrubbing, watching her with a mix of surprise and lust. She didn't want him to stop.

"No, Eric, keep washing the dishes. I like to watch your hands move, and imagine it's you touching me."

She saw Eric swallow and continue cleaning the dishes, but he watched her most of the time, only spot checking his work to see if more scrubbing was needed.

Each time he washed another dish, Megan felt another wave of pleasure shoot through her. Her vaginal lips got wetter (call it your pussy, a little voice told her), and she moved her hands faster, getting closer to direct contact with her clit.

Megan lifted her feet up to rest them on the counter. It not only presented her with a better angle, but also gave Eric a better view, and she wanted him to see. She wanted him to watch her finger herself while she thought of him.

She inserted the fingers of her left hand into her pussy, while her right hand now applied direct attention to her clit. Oh, God, this feels good.

Eric finished up the last dish and he turned to focus all of his attention on her. That sent her libido up another notch, and she knew she was almost there. "Eric, watch me come. I am... going... to..." Her moans cut off her speech. She was frigging herself as hard as she could and felt her orgasm peak. She closed her eyes so tight she saw stars.

Eric's voice penetrated the post-orgasmic fog. "Megan, that is the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

She opened her eyes again and the full realization of what she had just done crashed down on her. She was mortified. "Oh my God." Megan pulled her feet down from the counter, and not looking at Eric, she turned and ran into the bedroom, and then into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her.

What had she just done? Why had she done it?

"Megan, what's wrong?" Eric was outside the door.

"I don't feel good. Can you leave me alone for a bit?"

She heard him curse under his breath. He had been asking her to do this for years, and when she finally performed for him, he couldn't follow up by fucking her. Instead, he was locked out of the bathroom. She was pretty sure she knew how he felt, and a sense of guilt rose within her. But her fear and shame, of the way her own mind and body had betrayed her, overwhelmed her guilt. She couldn't face him right now.

She heard the bedroom door close, and a few minutes later, she heard the TV turn on. Eric was taking his frustrations out on the Chicago Bulls.

This was the second time in as many days that she experienced a sexual response to Eric doing housework. Had Dr. Esmer done something to her? Had he turned her into some sort of freak?

Megan couldn't tell Eric. She knew him. If he even suspected, there was a good chance Esmer would be arrested, and the whole affair would be on the front page of the paper. She couldn't bear that, and she wasn't positive it had anything to do with Esmer or Eric's housework.

Maybe it was a coincidence? Eric had said at their session with Esmer that he wished she would do things like lap dances, and masturbate in front of him. She has explicitly said that both were on the table. Maybe her subconscious was just living up to the implied promise?

Tomorrow, she wouldn't let Eric do any housework, and that would be test, and give her more time to think.

Megan unlocked the bathroom and climbed into bed, re-playing today's events over in her mind. She felt more shame when she realized she found the memory erotic rather than disgusting. What was she turning into?

When Eric checked on her, she pretended to be asleep.

---

Saturday

It was proving easy to prevent Eric from doing housework. She cleaned the breakfast dishes for him before he had a chance to do so, and preemptively did a load of his laundry.

Eric tried to ask her about her behavior yesterday, but she sidestepped. "I wasn't feeling good. I don't want to talk about it." He didn't like that answer, but he didn't press the point.

At lunch, Eric planted himself in front of the TV to watch college basketball. Megan knew she would be safe for the afternoon, and read a novel on her Kindle. She was trying to finish Stieg Larsson's trilogy, having liked the movie version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo when Eric took her in January.

She wasn't liking the second book as much as the first, and was easily distracted when she heard Eric yell "fuck!" from the living room. She figured Purdue must be losing, and went back to reading.

In the back of her mind, she registered the sound of a vacuum cleaner starting up, but ignored it, determined to see how Lisbeth Salander was going to wreck revenge this time. She found herself licking her lips in anticipation.

No, it wasn't the book that made her lick her lips, she realized. Oh hell, Eric is vacuuming! She rose and hurried to the living room, and saw the forensic remains of a Dorito spill. Most of the contents of the bag seemed to have emptied on the floor. Eric had picked up the big pieces and placed them in a large bowl, but the white carpet was covered with Dorito detritus, which he was now sucking up with their Hoover.

Panic crossed her face as she realized her mouth was watering, and it wasn't for the chips.

Eric noticed her watching him, and shut off the vacuum cleaner. "Sorry, the Boilers made this great defensive play, and I stood up too quick. I'll get it."

"No, please, let me!" She knew where her salivation was leading, and she hoped she could cut it off with an early intervention.

"Nah, it's my mess. I will get it." He switched the vacuum back on.

The whirr of the vacuum cleaner was like an electric shock to the pleasure centers of her brain. Megan was mesmerized by the movement of the Hoover as it sucked up orange cheese powder and corn chip crumbs. She imagined the suction necessary to move the material through the base, up the tube, and into the canister.

Her mouth was watering again, and she looked at Eric's crotch. What had Eric said once? Put a tongue in a vacuum cleaner tube and it would be a male sex toy? Would he really like her to suck him that hard?

A voice in the back of her brain was yelling at her, telling her that this wasn't natural. This was like her striptease to Eric doing laundry, or her masturbation compulsion last night when Eric scrubbed the dishes.

But why did it matter if the impulse was natural. Eric loved getting oral sex, and one of his biggest complaints about their marriage was that he never got it any more. Why shouldn't he get it? Megan remembered that she used to love going down on him. She remembered how she used to even initiate it...

---

Eric had been recommending that Megan and Carmen take a self-defense class. He wouldn't come right out and say it, but Megan suspected that he thought Chris might try something before his plea hearing later in the month. She tried to draw it out of him.

"You never know what an asshole control freak boyfriend is going to do. But some of them have a pattern. Chris has done this shit before. He has two domestic assault convictions in 2004, another in 2007, and then in 2010 they ended up dropping felony charges on him when his girlfriend changed her mind on testifying. I think he has figured out that it's hard to make a charge stick without the girl's testimony, and the fucker is looking at hard time."

"He will try to intimidate Carmen?"

Eric shrugged. "It never hurts to be prepared."

"Is that why you kept coming over for dinner?"

"Sorta. I also thought Carmen's sister was hot."

When Megan approached Carmen with the idea, she resisted. "I hated school. This sounds too much like school."

Eric finally seemed to persuade her by offering a private session with just him, Carmen, and Megan at a precinct gym after hours. Megan had show up directly from work. Carmen never showed and wasn't answering her cell phone.

"Is she in trouble?" Eric looked worried.

"Unlikely. She was setting up some excuses and having second thoughts about coming. I don't think she believes self-defense is ladylike."

"Neither is getting beaten up."

"Why don't you give me a lesson?"

Eric assented and took her down to the gym. The biggest things he emphasized were keeping a low center of gravity in a fighting stance, and avoiding her male opponent's stronger arms. He taught her some techniques on breaking grips, throwing a heavier person off balance, and where to hit.

Megan liked it. She was barely over five feet tall and weighed less than a hundred pounds. It made her feel like she had some power, and wasn't doomed to be a victim if she was attacked.

She also found it sexually exciting. Eric would practice some of the techniques by trying to grab her and having her fend him off. She liked the feel of his arms when he succeeded in holding her. He was strong and could lift her off the ground with little effort.

Finally, he came at her deliberately off-balance, to see if she could take advantage of it. She did, and pulled his arm to drag him across her leg like he had shown her, tripping him and sending him to the mat. She hadn't succeeded in breaking his grip, however, and he pulled her down on top of him.

Her head landed on his abdomen, and her breasts were pressed up against his groin. She could immediately tell that he was as aroused as she was.

She held the position and kissed his stomach through his shirt. "Is anyone else in the building?" She asked, a half-smile crossing her face.

Eric ran his hand through her hair. His erection was nestled in the valley of her breasts, and she felt it twitch when he answered. "The building is dead between shift changes, unless they schedule training. Which they didn't."

Megan smiled. "Good." She tugged his sweatpants down over his erection, and took it into her mouth for the first time.

---

The phantom taste of Eric's cock floated in Megan's memory -- it had been salty from their exertions in the gym. She wanted him again.

Eric had finished vacuuming, and as soon as he shut the machine off, Megan shoved him back onto the couch, spread his legs, and knelt between them.

"Whoa," was all Eric could say.

She looked up at him, recalling the same half-smile she had shown him the first time she gave him head. "I was thinking of that self-defense training you gave me when we were first dating."

"I remember those. You always got turned on, and went down on me on the gym floor every Thursday for six weeks."

"Feel like re-living old times?"

The speed with which Eric reached for the remote control caused him to bobble it a few times before he could shut the TV off. Megan gave an open-mouthed smile and allowed Eric to see the way her tongue played across her teeth.

She remembered that Eric liked her looking at him, so she narrowed her eyes in what she hoped was a sultry way while running her hands up his thighs. She touched the power of his leg muscles through the denim of his jeans, which caused her to feel an erotic jolt somewhere behind her belly button. She moaned.

"Oh, I am getting wet just thinking about what I am going to do to you." Her right hand undid his belt buckle while her left squeezed the hardness she could feel in his crotch. She liked how it throbbed in response to her touch, showing how much Eric wanted her.

"What are you going to do to me?" Eric asked.

"I think you know." She unzipped his fly and her hands could now feel the warmth of his erection through the cotton of his briefs. "I think you know, but you want me to say it."

Eric arched his hips off the couch to allow her to pull down his jeans and briefs, giving her the access she wanted to his cock. "Yeah, I do like you to say it," he said.

"Then I will tell you." Megan leaned forward, placing her mouth closer to her goal. She made sure she held his eyes with hers as she spoke. "I am going to take this big cock of yours and put it my mouth. Your sexy wife is going to suck you off and make you come, just like she used to."

"That sounds like --"

Megan cut him off mid-sentence by encircling the head of his cock with her lips.

He was so hot in her mouth. She felt his cock give a few spasms of pleasure in response to her tongue, and she reveled in the power she had to make him feel this way. Megan swirled her tongue around his engorged flesh, enjoying the contrast of the soft tender skin with the steel hardness underneath. Her hands grasped the base of his shaft and balls, adding some extra squeezes in the way she remembered he liked.

Making a seal halfway down the base with her lips, she added some suction, and was rewarded by hearing Eric groan.

She watched him extend his hands down to hold her face. His thumb traced the outline of her jaw and his fingers caressed her skin. Megan saw a look in his eyes that she hadn't seen in two years -- the blissful look of a man being brought to heaven by the talents of the woman he loved. She realized that she had missed that look.

Why had she stopped giving him head, she wondered? She remembered that it had felt like a chore, doing nothing for her, and she hadn't really liked the idea of tasting his cum. She had always pulled away before he came, allowing his seed to shoot in the air, but she didn't even like the idea of tasting the lubricant that came out when he was getting warmed up.

Today was different. Today, going down on him was doing something for her. She felt turned on. She felt powerful. She felt loved. Today the taste didn't bother her. It's just protein. In fact, she actually liked it, knowing she was tasting his arousal for her.

Moans and increased thrusting of his hips toward her face told Megan that she had brought Eric to the verge of climax. She tightened the grip of her hand around his shaft. But instead of withdrawing her mouth and finishing him by hand like she used to do, Megan swirled her tongue faster, and let out her own moan, which she hoped he would feel in his cock.

"Oh God, Megan, I love how you do this. I am going to come!" Such a sweetheart -- he knew she didn't like it when he came in her mouth so he was warning her. But not today. She wanted to taste him. She squeezed his balls and shaft with her hands and gave the glans one last swirl, and she felt him spasm, followed by a hot stickiness spraying against the roof of her mouth. Megan swallowed his seed, and continued bathing his cock with her lips and tongue as he spurted more cum inside her mouth.

Eric's face was an open book of blissful surprise. She had never swallowed him before. He ran his fingers through her hair as she waited for him to go flaccid in her mouth. Finally, she released her mouth's grip on his cock by spreading her lips in a broad smile.

"You approve?" She knew the answer but wanted to hear it.

"Oh God yes, that was incredible! What has gotten into you this week?"

It came back to her. She had been trying to prevent herself from having a sexual reaction when Eric did housework, and here it had happened again.

Watching the expression on Eric's face, however, it didn't bother her as much this time. She gave his cock a kiss and just returned his smile.

Sunday

The alarm went off at five in the morning. Oh fuck, Megan thought to herself, he has ice fishing today. She tried to go back to sleep while he puttered around the bedroom getting dressed, but then gave up.

"When will you be back?"

Eric wore sweatpants to bed in the wintertime. She noticed with annoyance that he had thrown them on the floor.

"Probably late." He pulled on a fleece sweater. "Today is the twelfth."

"Yeah?"

"Happy Lincoln's Birthday. More importantly, Tuesday is Valentine's Day."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I know you hate fighting restaurant crowds, so I figured we would stay in. I will cook you dinner."

"That sounds delightful."

"If you are feeling up to it."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You have been acting a little moody lately."

Is that what it looked like to him? She would swing from being annoyed at him to a slut in just minutes, and he thought she was "moody"?

"We can talk about it later," she demurred. "Oh honey, can you put your sweats away before you go?"

He kicked them into the air with his foot, caught them, folded them, and put them on the shelf in his closet.

Good, Megan thought to herself. Everything in its proper place. She felt another pleasurable twinge hit her behind the belly button. She felt a slickness between her legs, and realized she was getting wet.

Dammit, she thought, and decided to try to resist her feelings of arousal. She had liked the way Eric had reacted yesterday, and she had decided that she liked how more sexual excitement had returned to their relationship, but she wasn't sure she wanted a slavish response to Eric doing housework. She looked at the clock. His buddies were picking him up in five minutes. She just needed to hold out for a little while.

Eric walked out of the closet and did a scan of the bedroom. He evidently noticed a few other messes, and picked up a pair of his socks, and yesterday's underwear, throwing them in the laundry basket. He tucked a pair of his shoes under the bed. "Everything in it's proper place," he said, repeating one of her favorite mantras.

Megan found herself watching his crotch. I know the proper place for that, she thought. She clenched her thighs together, feeling more wetness. A flashback came to her mind of the greatest night of sex they had ever had. "Survival sex", Eric had called it. She shoved the memory back down. Not now.

Her nipples were stiff against the flannel of her pajamas. She wondered why a sexy woman like herself was wearing pajamas. Pajamas were for sleeping. She wasn't sleeping any more. She wanted sex, so she she should be dressed for sex. She clenched her thighs together, wanting her husband's cock.

"Megan, are you OK?"

She pinched herself on the arm -- the pain helping her regain control. "I am fine." She remembered her psych classes, covering conditioning. She liked being sexy, but she didn't want to be one of Pavlov's dogs, salivating when they heard the dinner bell.

"I must have imagined it."

"What?"

"You used to have this look when we were dating. I had a name for it, but I haven't seen it for awhile."

"What look?"

Eric looked abashed. "I called it your fuck-me-now look." He shrugged. "Like I said, I must have imagined it."

Megan knew that if she spoke the only words she would be able to speak would be "fuck me now". She bit her lip instead. The memory jumped back to the surface. That's my girl, he had said -- words that won her heart.

Headlights cast shadows through the venetian blinds. Eric headed out the bedroom door. "The guys are here. See you tonight!"

After she heard the car drive off, Megan lay on her back, and let the memory come.