Fantasies Do Come True

Author's Note: This story contains details of a wife's fantasy of non-consent, and her husband fulfilling her fantasy. This story is a work of fiction derived from my own insatiable imagination. Any resemblance of characters in this story to any person, real or otherwise, is purely coincidental.

Chrissy was a beautiful 36 year old brunette with a slender frame and petite stature, standing only 5 feet tall when she wasn't wearing heels. She had deep chestnut hair that came down to shoulder length, often wearing pins in her hair to keep it out of her face as she worked. She was employed full time as a veterinary assistant at the local veterinary clinic in her hometown. She was cheerful and had a friendly disposition, always smiling and kind to others. But Chrissy had a dark secret.

Chrissy had a turbulent upbringing, growing up with abusive, drug and alcohol addicted parents that were mostly absent from her life. She had spent much of her early years raising her younger siblings and being the parent, rather than being parented and led to a good direction herself. She saw it as her duty to care for her siblings so they could stay together, vowing to watch over them and protect them in any way possible. She had always taken the lead and been the responsible one.

But because much of her life up to this point had been spent taking the lead, she had a dark fantasy - one that she sometimes had trouble admitting to herself, even. She wanted, deeply desired, to have someone else take the lead for once, and use her body for their desires as she pretended to reject their advances. She wanted to play out the fantasy so badly, and would feel turned on every time she thought about someone using her body as she pretended to struggle to get away. It was one of her favorite masturbation fantasies, and she dreamed that one day it would happen, but never held out much hope that it would ever materialize. For now, she was content to just fantasize and imagine the act, which always led to some of her best orgasms during her solo sessions.

Chrissy sometimes gave herself permission to daydream, to imagine her husband using her as his sex slave, commanding her to do his will. She wanted to let someone else be in charge, and thought it was incredibly hot that someone could use her body for their own pleasure, bringing her to the brink of orgasm many times before she would ultimately explode with a leg-shaking orgasm as she was pounded from behind, all the while pretending it was against her will.

She would often play out the same fantasy scenario in her mind when she masturbated, rubbing her clit hard and fast as she imagined the scene. She would be at home, working on putting away laundry in the bedroom when a man would enter wearing a ski mask. She would freeze up, holding her arms in front of her in a defensive posture and he would grab her forearms, forcing her down on the bed. She would try to scream out, so he would put one hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. Then he would wrap a t-shirt around her face to cover her mouth, tying it tightly behind her head to muffle her sounds. He would push her over on her stomach and forcefully grab at the waistband of her jeans, pulling them down quickly to her knees. He would pull his hard penis out of his jeans and lie on top of her, rubbing his swollen member between her ass cheeks up against her panties for a minute or so.

Meanwhile, she would continue to attempt to scream through the shirt and try to crawl away from him. He would forcefully grab her wrists and pin them together behind her back, holding her arms in place securely with one hand, while continuing to rub on her ass. He would quickly grab her panties and jerk them down forcefully with his free hand as she continued to struggle a bit, squirming under his grasp. He would then grab her hips and pull them upward so that her ass was in the air. Positioning himself behind her, and again grabbing her wrists to hold them behind her back, he would position his hard cock right at the entrance of her dripping wet cunt and force himself inside of her with such force that she would be knocked forward on the bed a little, almost losing her balance. He would continue to pound her hard, and she would continue to scream and pretend to try to get away.

This would go on for a few minutes, before he would pull his still throbbing cock out of her pussy and position the tip right at the entrance of her tight little ass. He would push forward with a grunt, burying his cock all the way inside her ass to the hilt, gripping her hips tightly as she gasped. He would then pound her ass hard for a few minutes before his breathing quickened, his back stiffened and he grunted a few deep guttural groans and unloaded his sperm deep inside her ass.

He would then pull out of her, wipe his dick off and zip up his pants, having one last quick look at her over his shoulder as he walked away, leaving her completely spent and utterly satisfied. This fantasy always made her cum hard, and she would find herself rubbing her clit so hard and fast during these fantasy masturbation sessions that her pussy lips would be red and swollen for hours afterwards. She was never the type to enjoy romantic, gentle sex. It just didn't get her off. She would have to masturbate afterwards just to try to get some relief from her pent up frustrations. She never did understand what girls saw in the romance and slow, gentle sex. She couldn't imagine anything more boring and mundane, and certainly didn't want those words describing her sex life.

Mark was Chrissy's husband, and an all-around good guy. He had always gone above and beyond to try to please her any way he knew how, and was the strong, silent type. He believed that she, like most girls, preferred romance and sweet, slow loving, so that's what he usually gave her. He sometimes got a little carried away and excited in the heat of the moment, usually apologizing to Chrissy afterwards. But Chrissy never understood why - if he knew the truth, he would be shocked, she thought to herself.

Mark was almost 6 feet tall and incredibly handsome. He had little love handles in the middle, but she loved him all the more for it. It just meant she had more to grab on to. She didn't want a skinny, scrawny guy in her life anyway. He was deeply sensitive and caring, easily becoming emotional over sometimes little things like sappy commercials on TV. She loved him deeply for who he was, not only as a man but as a person in touch with his feelings. He worked hard to help support them and always wanted to please her - both in the bedroom and out. Chrissy considered herself the luckiest girl alive because she had such a caring, sensitive guy. But there was just one problem.

Chrissy was mortified about her lusty desires and couldn't bring herself to ever discuss the topic of fantasies and sexual thoughts with Mark. She knew how good of a man he was, so caring and kind, and couldn't imagine him ever being okay with some of the kinky, dirty thoughts she had. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him off. If she couldn't have fulfillment of her sexual desires, then at least she could have him. They got along just fine, and she couldn't imagine life without him. She could continue to fantasize and masturbate, it was working okay so far.

The fantasies and intense sexual lust were a part of who she was, and had always been there. She had been this way as long as she could remember. She could even remember when she was younger, masturbating every chance she got because she was so horny all the time. She sometimes secretly wished that she had a penis that she could fuck somebody with, to see what it felt like, that maybe then she could get some relief from all this pent up pressure she felt continuously in her groin. And on more occasions than she could count, she would masturbate while squeezing her eyes shut tightly, desperately hoping, almost begging, that someone would come and fill up her waiting pussy, to relieve this longing and desire she had been dealing with for so long. She had seen books that depicted a male orgasm, and it intrigued her and turned her on so much when she was younger. She would hump her pillow and sometimes even pretend that she had a penis and was ejaculating, trying desperately to get relief from the deep longing and desire burning inside her.

Chrissy was going out with a friend after work today and was looking forward to catching up with her. She had been friends with Becky since high school, one of those rare, true friendships that stands the test of time. They were meeting up for dinner at their favorite local restaurant, the Craft House, serving some of the best burgers in town, with draft beers on tap. She shot off a quick text to Becky that read "Can't wait for tonight! I need some girl time, we've got some catching up to do! Are we still on for 5?"

Within a few minutes, she received a text reply from Becky that read "Hells yeah! Can't wait!"

Chrissy arrived at the restaurant just a few minutes before 5, stepping out of her car and scanning her surroundings. She saw Becky sitting at a table and bounded over to her, a smile across her face.

"Hey there!" she said to Becky with a broad grin. Becky stood up and opened her arms to Chrissy, inviting her in for a warm hug.

"So excited to see you again!" Becky said with a smile, beaming at her friend. "How have you been? Tell me everything."

"Well, things have been good, I guess. You know, just the same old, same old. Adulting is what they call it, I think. You?" replied Chrissy.

Becky shifted in her seat slightly, a grimace crossing her face as she moved, bracing herself slightly.

"Are you okay?" Chrissy asked, a concerned look growing on her face as she watched her friend trying to move, appearing to be in pain.

Becky laughed, lowering her voice a bit before saying "Oh trust me, I'm fine. Things have been really heating up with Mike lately, and girl let me tell you, this is a very nice constant reminder of what we did last night. I've been thinking about it all day. He really knows how to treat a lady." she said with a mischievous grin.

Chrissy had trouble hiding her disappointment and jealousy at her friend's comment. "How do you do it?" Chrissy asked. "I mean, how do you get Mike to be like that with you?"

"Well," Becky said, pondering for a moment, her chin in her hand as she thought about the question. "I guess I just have open communication with him. I tell him what I like. After all, he can't read my mind." she said with a laugh.

Chrissy thought for several minutes about what Becky had said. 'Could it be?' she thought to herself. 'Could it be that easy? Just communicate openly with Mark about what I like, and we can have that crazy, wild sex that Becky is getting all to herself while she sits out on the sidelines, wishing for more?'

'No,' she thought. Mark was a good guy, and would probably be mortified to know what dirty thoughts regularly filled her mind. Good girls don't act like that, and she would be devastated if Mark left her because of her lustful thoughts that are better kept under lock and key and taken to the grave with her. She decided against it, considering it too risky.

"I bet you and Mark have an amazing sex life," Becky said, again shifting a bit in her seat, looking mildly uncomfortable and absolutely happy about it. She munched happily on her salad, stabbing lettuce leaves with her fork and looking up at Chrissy, waiting to hear all the juicy details.

"Well, I don't know...," Chrissy responded, before pausing. What would Mark think about her spilling the details of their predictable sex life to her friend? She decided that in this situation, less was more.

Becky raised her eyebrows at Chrissy, lifting her glass to take a slow sip of her beer before setting it back down on the table. "You're kidding... right?" Becky asked, an incredulous look on her face. "I mean, you two are inseparable. I figured you'd be at it like rabbits all the time."

Chrissy quickly glanced around at the other tables, suddenly embarrassed and self conscious that others may overhear their conversation. Lowering her voice a bit more, she said in almost a whisper "How did you do it? I mean... how did you tell Mike what you like?" Her cheeks flushed a bright red, her face feeling hot. She stared down at her plate with her burger and fries, feeling far too embarrassed to look up at Becky, to see her judgmental eyes staring back at her.

Becky wasn't the judgmental type, and had always been supportive to Chrissy as long as they had known each other. The last thing she would do is judge Chrissy for being shy about her sexual fantasies, and she really wanted to help her friend learn to explore them more openly.

"Well..." Becky said in a neutral tone. "I guess it just came up in conversation one day, and I started sharing secret fantasies with him. The more I shared with him, the better the sex got. Sometimes I like thinking up new fantasies just to see how turned on he gets. As I describe my fantasies to him, we both get all hot and bothered. Ater hearing all the juicy details, he always gives me the best sex of my life. Just be prepared to not get much sleep after you tell him!" Becky said with a laugh, going back to her salad.

Chrissy thought about what Becky had said, wondering if she could bring herself to do it. She was often painfully shy, and communicated better through written word than verbally. She wondered if maybe she could write him sex stories to describe her fantasies, and see how he reacts. 'Yes,' she decided. The stories would work well because they wouldn't be directed to him, and he could get a glimpse into her mind in a non threatening way. This would allow her to test the waters, so to speak. If he didn't like them all that much, she would have her answer.

Chrissy rushed home after dinner, eager to put her theory to the test. She could feel her pussy quiver with excitement as she thought about writing an erotica story that depicted her favorite non-consent scenario. She had masturbated to this same fantasy more times than she could count, and knew that she would become very turned on just seeing it in writing. It would turn her on even more to know that he was reading it. She just hoped and prayed that he would have a positive reaction to the story after reading it, not thinking she was completely nuts or something was wrong with her for having these thoughts.

"Hi hon, how was your dinner with Becky?" Mark asked when she stepped in the door.

"It was good!" she answered cheerfully, smiling warmly and pecking him on the cheek. She could feel moisture developing in her panties at the thought of the stories, and briefly thought about heading to the restroom for a quick solo session. She quickly decided against it, wanting to allow the pressure to build a bit more first. She knew that writing erotica fiction for her husband would certainly increase her desire, and if she waited, she would have a much stronger orgasm later.

She grabbed a drink from the kitchen and sauntered back into the living room, swaying her hips slightly as she walked, a new bounce in her step. Mark noticed a change in her and looked up from his magazine, asking her "What's up? Must have had a really good meal tonight, huh?"

Chrissy felt a light blush start across her cheeks as she thought about how to tell her husband she wanted to write erotic stories for him. "Well..." she said, a slight smile crossing her lips, her hands trembling slightly. "I was just thinking... I would like to write a story for you." She blurted it out before she could change her mind, feeling shy and self conscious again.

"A story? What kind of story?" Mark asked, still looking at her, a look of confusion beginning to cross his face.

"A sexy story." she responded, blushing a deep red now, looking down at the floor, hands still trembling.

Mark sat straight up in his recliner, setting his magazine down in his lap with a sudden thud. He stared at her, his mouth open, trying to process what his wife had just said. She had always been a loving and devoted wife, very caring and kind, shy and quiet, but never the wild type. He had never seen her do wild and crazy things in bed, and rarely could even convince her to give him a blowjob. Most of the time, their sex life involved routine missionary style sex about once a week. She was a gentle lover, and he was always sure to be careful and tender with her so that he didn't hurt her or make her feel uncomfortable.

"A sexy story?" he asked, his mouth still wide open, his eyes never leaving her.

"Y-yes," she said, now wringing her hands, afraid to look up and make eye contact with him. 'He must think I'm a pervert.' she thought to herself. But if she was honest with herself, she actually thought she was. She wondered what he would think of her if he knew the truth.

"Okay," Mark replied, careful with how he chose his words, afraid that she would change her mind. "That sounds good to me."

***

Chrissy took her time writing the story, being careful to include every detail, describing the scene and the emotions experienced by both the intruder and the woman. She felt the moisture develop between her lips down below as she wrote, feeling her pussy clench down a few times in a mini orgasm. It was turning her on so much to see her fantasy in writing on the page, and now Mark was going to be reading it! Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought, both excited and terrified at the same time.

She had no idea how he would react, and fully expected him to say it was disgusting and that women shouldn't be treated that way. She finished the story and passed it to him to read, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she could hear it. Her breathing was rapid, and she felt incredibly nervous, but also turned on, knowing he was going to be reading all about one of her deepest, darkest fantasies. She briefly thought for a moment that perhaps she should have started with a more mild story, to ease into it, but it was too late. She had already given it to him.

She watched Mark closely for any sort of reaction as he read the story, waiting for signs of repulsion or disgust. She felt like running from the room, hiding her face in shame when he finally would look at her judgmentally, questioning her morals. She felt it was inevitable that he would reject the idea, saying it was not appropriate behavior. But at least then she would have her answer, and she could go back to her secret fantasies without any damage to her own reputation. There was little risk to her, other than the loss of a perfectly good story. 'But what if he likes it?' she thought. She again became turned on at the thought, squirming a bit as she sat and waited impatiently for him to finish.

Mark finished the story and looked up. "Wow," he said.

She felt impatient as she waited for more from him. What does wow mean, anyway? Wow in a good way? Or wow he can't believe she had these disgusting thoughts when she created this story? Oh the agony! "So... what did you think?" she asked, her hands trembling again, a lump filling her throat as she nervously awaited his response, fully anticipating his rejection and preparing herself for it.

"It was..." he paused for a moment, clearing his throat and shifting nervously in his chair. "Good." He didn't look up to make eye contact with her. Her mind raced as she wondered what he was thinking. Oh how she wished he would tell her more! She wanted to know if it really was good, or if he was just saying this to spare her feelings. He was a very thoughtful and polite man after all. She knew he probably didn't want to hurt her in any way by showing his disgust, and she felt sure that he was feeling repulsed by the sight of her now.

Mark rose from the chair and headed to the restroom, while she remained sitting on the couch, thinking about the events that had just taken place. Her head was swirling as a million thoughts crossed her mind. 'Maybe he did like it.' she thought to herself, feeling her pussy twitch a little in response. She squeezed her thighs together at the thought, her breathing becoming heavier, and closed her eyes softly as she remembered the vivid detail in the story.