Fixing Their Marriage

That was all the invitation Andy needed. Right from the start of their relationship he had discovered his love for cunnilingus, his love for being on his knees, his head buried between Bernie's thighs, his love of flick-flicking his tongue across the ever-hardening nubbin of her clitoris. What's more, he was rightly proud of his prowess, his ability to read the subtle, and not so subtle, signs and react accordingly, his ability to make his goddess come again and again and again.

Bernie leant back against the kitchen work surface and supported herself with her elbows but, before long, her legs were giving way and she needed somewhere she could fully enjoy Andy's ministrations.

"Not here," she said gently pushing him away. "Follow me."

She led him through to the lounge where she lay on the sofa, pulled her skirt up and spread her legs.

"That's better. Get on with it."

Andy set back to work. It was better. Most importantly Bernie was more comfortable and could relax into her orgasms. The other major benefit was that the lounge carpet was gentler on his knees than the tiled kitchen floor. Now that they were both comfortable he could take his time and concentrate on that fine line between good and bad teasing as he worked his magic in and around the folds of Bernie's nether lips.

It wasn't long before Bernie had had enough teasing. Andy knew, without needing to be told, that it was time to get serious, it was time to concentrate solely on flick-flicking his tongue across her clitoris with the steady rhythm that he knew she loved. Keeping the rhythm was paramount; what he could vary was the intensity, working harder as she rode a wave and then relaxing back to give her breathing room before the next one.

Andy smiled to himself, well, as much as you can smile while licking your wife's clitoris. He found this deeply satisfying. Although, of course, he was getting no direct sexual stimulation, this was probably his preferred sexual act. He loved feeling Bernie react to his tongue, he loved the way he could make her body sing. He felt like a fine musician coaxing great music from his instrument.

And he knew his wife well enough to know when they were close to the big one, finding the wave that just grew and grew. From the tension in her limbs, from the noises that she made, from the way her juices flowed Andy knew she was close, so close, so very, very...

"Oh! My! God!" Bernie's orgasm exploded within her. Andy tried to keep with her as long as he could but she was thrashing about too much and, in the end, with a gasped "enough, enough", she pushed him away.

For a while Andy just knelt at the end of the sofa, waiting for Bernie to recover. He felt supremely pleased with himself. By the sounds of things, and the time it was taking her to recover, he had just given Bernie one doozey of an orgasm.

"Hmm... not bad, not bad at all," Bernie said pulling down her skirt. "Now, I need five minutes to sort myself out and then we'll get on with the meal. I'm doing pork chops tonight, OK?"

"Fine, yes, lovely," Andy replied amazed at how fast things had returned to the mundane.

"Good. You can come and give me a hand. Start by peeling the spuds."

As Bernie disappeared upstairs to the bathroom a slightly bemused Andy made his way to the kitchen.

When she returned from freshening up she was still wearing her short skirt. What's more, when reaching for a sauce-pan from one of the higher shelves she let it ride up enough to let Andy know that she was still without panties. However, she was all business and, when he went to give her a cuddle and let his hands wander beneath her skirt she gently pushed him away.

"Later, darling, later. Let's have supper first."

After the meal, as they sat together on the sofa watching MasterChef, Bernie cuddled up to Andy and reached for the waistband of his trousers.

"It seems to me," she commented as she struggled with his fly, "that one of us is wearing far too much in the way of clothing. I want a play and your trousers are definitely in the way. Why don't you take them off?"

Andy needed no further urging. He stood up, pushed his trousers down and stepped out of them.

"And your boxers," Bernie added. Andy didn't hesitate to push those down as well.

"That's better. How are you getting on with the chain?" She gave it a little tug for emphasis. "OK, I hope. I do like you wearing it. Definitely sexy."

"I... I can live with it," Andy replied with a sigh. He seemed to be living on a sexual knife edge and, as soon as Bernie had told him to drop his pants, his prick had hardened. Now Bernie had her fingers wrapped around it and was stroking him up and down, up and down. "God, you're good at that," he gasped.

"Practice makes perfect and I intend to get a lot of practice. Don't forget, you're not allowed to come."

"That's so unfair!"

"That's the rule. We can have lots of sex by my rules or no sex at all by your rules. Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No! Of course not!"

"Then relax and enjoy. Just make sure you don't enjoy too much. And, remember, I'll make sure it's worth the wait when you do get to come."

"On Saturday, yeah?"

"Or Sunday. It depends. Part of the fun is keeping you guessing and, seriously, we have been having fun these last few days, haven't we."

"Oh, yes."

"Then sit back and enjoy. We're missing the program."

By the time they went to bed Andy had a serious case of blue balls. He had, after all, had a permanent erection for several hours. Bernie had shown considerable skill in knowing just how far to push him, time and time again taking him close to the edge but never so far that he lost control. As he went to the en-suite to get ready for bed he was tempted but he could tell how seriously Bernie was taking this no orgasm rule and he didn't want to upset this new, ever so sexy, apple-cart.

It was even worse on Tuesday morning. He awoke with an erection like an iron bar and, as he washed himself down in his morning shower, he couldn't help but have a little play with himself. All this meant that, when, finished with his morning shower, he returned to the bedroom still towelling himself off, his was still completely rigid and this did not escape Bernie's notice.

"Ooh, someone is hot and horny this morning! How are you getting on with that chain? Any signs of chaffing. Come over here and let me have a look."

He went over to where Bernie was sat at her dressing table and stood 'at ease' beside her. She looked carefully at where the chain went around his balls and pronounced herself pleased with the lack of any soreness. "In fact, it seems to me that you could do with a little more weight. Now, where did I put those padlocks?"

"Hun! Please!"

"Oh don't be such a baby. You know you like it really. Now hold still." She found the rest of the chain, along with the padlocks in one of the drawers in her dressing table. Taking out two padlocks she opened them up and then clicked them shut, attached to the end of the chain.

In truth, Andy had to admit that the extra weight didn't make the chain any more uncomfortable and, although he would not admit this to Bernie, he quite liked wearing it. However, it did make the chain swing about alarmingly, even when he was dressed. He would have to be that bit more careful at work.

Half way through the morning he received an email from Bernie.

Sunday night I told you a fantasy about me having sex with Cassie. Now I want you to reply to this email with your version. It doesn't have to be long, but it does have to be hot.

Bloody hell! If he got caught writing pornographic emails at work they would sack him in the blink of an eye. On the other hand... his prick, always on a hair trigger, started swelling. As surreptitiously as he could he reached down and adjusted himself. As long as he used his personal email and not his work one, as long as he did it in his lunch break, as long as he was really careful...

"Hi honey, I loved your email," Bernie greeted him when, work over, he arrived home. As with Monday she was dressed in a short skirt and a revealing top. She shimmied over and caressed Andy's prick through his trousers. "Yeah, really loved it. After supper I think we should do a little role play based on it. How does that sound?"

"Great! Wow! Great!"

"First things, first. I'd love it if you washed up those pots and pans for me."

As Andy worked away at the sink he ruminated over how he would never have dreamed of doing so only a few days ago. However, if this was the price for having his wife turn into the hottest little sex-pot ever then it was more than worth it.

After the meal, and after Andy had loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the kitchen surfaces, they retired to the lounge but Bernie pointedly did not turn on the TV.

"Right then, as I said, I think it's about time for a little role play. I'm going to fetch a few bits and pieces and, when I return, I want you stripped and kneeling ready for me. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Get on with it then and fold your clothes neatly. Don't just leave them lying around the way you usually do."

As Bernie disappeared upstairs Andy started to disrobe. He was careful to fold his clothes neatly and put them on a chair; if Bernie was in full dominatrix mode then she was not to be messed with. He was just finishing off when Bernie returned carrying the box which he now knew held the chain and padlocks. She was also carrying the pink collar, the leash, her mp3 player and a blindfold that they had bought to help Bernie sleep while flying. She put the whole lot down on the coffee table, opened the box and took out the chain and a two of the padlocks.

"OK, let's get you sorted. Stand at ease with your hands behind your back."

Andy got into position while went round to stand behind him. There was the clink of metal and then he felt the cool steel of the chain being wrapped around his wrists. This was followed by a couple of clicks and, low and behold, his wrist were locked. He gave a couple of test tugs. His hands were going nowhere.

"There, that's better. Now chin up."

She turned back to the coffee table and picked up the collar which she fastened around his neck, adjusting it so that the 'D' ring was at the front. Then she reached for the leash, clipped it to the collar and made sure it was fast.

She finished off by putting the blindfold over his eyes. It was only a cheap one - the sort you get from airport shops - so it was far from perfect but it was good enough to make sure he wasn't going to be seeing anything until it was removed.

"There, perfect. Now then, how did the story go? Ah, here we are." She started reading Andy's email off from her phone. "Ah, yes, kneeling on the floor. Down you go."

It was slightly awkward getting down on his knees with his wrists bound and blindfolded but he managed it without stumbling.

"Once I'm on my knees you invite Cassie over," Bernie read off her phone. "Well, here goes." There was a pause and then "Cassie, hi, it's Bernie. Do you remember what we were talking about earlier? Well, if you're still up for it I have him all trussed up and ready for you. There's only one thing. He thinks this is just a fantasy and this phone call is a sham so, to keep up the pretence, you'll have to keep mousy quiet. That way he'll never know whether it's a sham or not. OK? Perfect. I'll see you in a couple of minutes then."

The phone call ended, Bernie turned back to Andy.

"So, was that phone call real or was it a sham? Have fun guessing. She'll be here in a couple of minutes - or will she?"

For what seemed like ages they just waited in silence. Andy heard, or thought he heard, the sound of Bernie heading for the kitchen. Then there came the distinctive sound of someone knocking on the back door. There was a couple of seconds' pause and then he heard the door being opened and Bernie saying "come on in. He's all ready and waiting for you but, before we start, give me a moment."

He heard Bernie returning to the lounge and then felt her attach her mp3 player to his arm. Moments later the two earbuds were pushed into his ears and all he could hear was the sound of Beyoncé singing her heart out. Not only was he not going to see what was going on but he wasn't going to hear it either.

Again there was a pause, quite a long pause, and he just knelt there, feeling his arms stiffen in their slightly awkward position. What was going on? Why was she keeping him waiting? Then he felt a tug on the leash pulling against his neck. With a feeling of 'here we go' he shuffled forward and felt Bernie's, or was it Cassie's bare knees either side of his shoulders. Hands gripped his head and pulled it forward and he sensed the unmistakeable smell of an aroused woman. The hands guided his head further down and he felt the unmistakable feeling of pubic hair brushing against his lips. He stuck out his tongue and searched for her labia.

It was never going to be as easy going down on Bernie, or was it Cassie, without the use of his hands to hold onto her and keep things steady. On the other hand, the whole scenario played straight to his wildest fantasy. Whatever the reality, in his fantasy it was Cassie that he was servicing and he would act that way. He owed it to Bernie to do the best he could, not to let her down, to give "Cassie" the best orgasm he could deliver.

And even in his deaf and blind state he could soon tell that "Cassie" was getting off on it as much as he was. Even before his tongue had touched her, her juices had been flowing and he could tell from the tensing of her thigh muscles that she was loving every second. Indeed, she was flexing herself towards him and, even with her hands either side of his head holding him down, he was having trouble staying on target.

Andy's fantasies were working overtime. In his mind Bernie was standing behind him, using her riding crop to encourage him onwards. Meanwhile Cassie was being driven higher and higher - it wasn't hard to imagine that bit - as he pushed her nearer and nearer to her climax.

And then fantasy and reality merged as Cassie, or was it Bernie, gripped his head and pulled it into her. Taking this cue his tongue worked back and forth, back and forth, across the engorged nubbin of her clitoris. He felt her go tense, rigid, her orgasm close, so close, so close...

Even with Beyoncé still loud in his ears he heard the scream of ecstasy as she climaxed. He tried, desperately, to stay with her but she thrashed about and, after a while, pushed him away.

There was a long, long pause before he felt a naked foot resting on his shoulder pushing him gently away. He shuffled backwards. And then another long pause. Indeed, seven or eight tracks must have passed before, finally, he felt the chains around his wrists being freed. As soon as he could he reached up and took off the blindfold. The removal of the earbuds followed and he turned to look at Bernie.

"That was... that was wild."

"I could tell you enjoyed it. Your prick was rock hard start to finish. Cassie enjoyed it too."

"But it wasn't really Cassie, was it?"

"Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. That's for me to know and you to find out," Bernie laughed. "How about a cup of tea. I'm parched."

"Tea, lovely!"

"So why aren't you making it."

"OK, I get the message. Give me a moment to get dressed. Hang on! Where are my clothes?"

"Upstairs. I put them away. I like having you naked so you can stay that way for the rest of the evening. Oh, and leave the collar on."

For a moment Andy felt she had gone too far, that he should rebel, but if this was the price of playing out his fantasies then, so be it. He got up off the floor and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. As he reached for the tea cups he noticed the wine glasses on the draining board. The two wine glasses. As he waited for the kettle to boil he examined them closely. Each had lipstick traces around the rim. One was the same colour that Bernie was wearing. The other...

The kettle boiled so he filled the cups, gave them a couple of minutes to brew, added milk and took them through to the lounge.

As they sat together on the sofa watching TV, Bernie played with Andy's prick, keeping him good and hard but nowhere near release. Andy found it hard to concentrate on the drama they were watching, and not just because of the sweet music coming from his groin.

Two glasses? Each with different lipstick? Had Bernie put them there as a subtle red herring or had reality been a whole lot closer to his fantasy than he had thought? One thing was for sure, Bernie wouldn't tell him.

****

The next morning was when the wheels came off. Andy had woken with yet another raging morning erection and, even when he went to make the coffees, it barely subsided. Then, Bernie determined that she would be first in the shower went off to the en-suite leaving Andy waiting his turn.

His hand strayed to his prick. It wouldn't harm to give it a little stroke. God it felt good. It felt ages since he had last come and his balls felt like overripe melons. Just a little more, just while she was in the shower, just a little more, it felt so good, so good, so...

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't help it. He'd passed the point of no return and nothing, nothing on earth could stop him. Time after time his prick exploded, jism shooting everywhere. Completely spent he fell back against the covers. He needed to clean up. He needed to get things sorted, he needed to...

"Oh Andy! You promised!" Bernie emerged from the en-suite and saw the state of him. She put two and two together and made four. Her anger and disappointment was clear. "Two lousy days, is that all you could manage?"

"I'm sorry, hun."

"Sorry's not good enough. You made a promise and now you've broken it. And look at the state of you. Get in the shower and wash that filth off."

When Andy emerged from his shower Bernie was already dressed and busy applying her makeup. She glanced up, saw him and reached for a key that was lying on her dressing table.

"Here, you can unlock that chain from around your bollocks."

"Hun, please..."

"I told you, right from the start, it was your choice, your right hand or me. And then I seem to remember a solemn promise. You formally swearing not to come unless I allowed it. It looks to me like you've made your choice and broken your promise. This game is over and so is any discussion about it."

Andy knew better than to argue with Bernie when she was in this mood.

There are many subtle, and not so subtle, ways a wife can let her husband know that he's let her down and over the rest of the week Bernie must have used them all. One thing she certainly made clear was that sex was right off the menu. Gone were the short skirts and revealing tops, gone were the sexy texts and evening games, and, worst of all, gone were the late night cuddles under the duvet. It was as if there were a wall of ice down the middle of the bed, her side and his and ne'er the twain shall meet.

In some ways this was a straightforward reversion to the status-quo of only a few days earlier and, if the intervening period had not happened, Andy might not even have noticed. However, a few short days of rampant sexuality had awoken a sense of what he'd been missing and, now it was gone again he was missing it badly.

And, to be fair, it wasn't just the sex. For those few short days there had been a playfulness between them, a sense of shared fun, that had also long been missing. It wasn't just their sex life that was broken, it was, at heart, their marriage.

Bernie had made the first move, now it was his turn to make the second. On his way home from work on the Friday he stopped off at the local florists and purchased the biggest bunch of flowers he could afford.

"Oh! Are those for me!"