Ginger Ch. 01

Yvonne and her husband lay together, spooning, in that somnolent state typical of two people whose coupling has left them both spent and sated. His semi-flaccid cock pressed up against the crack of her ass, and his arm was draped lovingly over her tummy. "There's no time like the present," Yvonne thought to herself, and summoned up her courage.

"Bruce?" she started.

"Yes, love?"

"You know I love you, right?"

"Of course, Pet."

"No, I mean really love you. You know I'd never want to do or say anything to hurt you, right?"

She rolled over to face him and he placed his hand on her hip, a look of concern crossing his face. "So where's all this coming from, then?"

"There's something I want to share with you," she said. "When we have sex, have you ever thought about wanting to hurt me?"

"What, you mean like doing it a bit rough?"

"No, I mean more than that. Like spanking me, pulling my hair, pinching my nipples really hard. Maybe even tying me up, and making me do whatever you wanted."

"You mean some twisted S&M thing, like Story of O?"

"Yes, I mean something like that."

"No, I've never really thought about anything like that," he said. With that he fell silent, not really knowing what to say, and hoping that by not saying anything perhaps the subject would change without him having to do anything further.

Yvonne left him alone with his thoughts for a few moments, letting what she'd just said sink in, and then tried again. "Bruce?"

"Yes, Pet."

"Sometimes, after you leave for work in the morning, I come back to bed and think about things like that. It really turns me on, and I have the most amazing orgasms."

"Yvonne," he said, finally having something to say, lifting his head off the pillow and supporting it with his hand. "Why are you telling me all this? Why now? Is this something you want me to try and do with you?"

"Honestly, no," she said, biting her lip. This was going to be the hard part. "When I think about things like this, it isn't you I think about hurting me, dominating me." Seeing the look of concern cross her husband's brow, she rushed to reassure him. "Don't worry," she said, "it isn't any other fella either. When I have these thoughts I most often fantasize about being hurt, being dominated, by another woman."

This time she really had succeeded in shocking him. "Are you... a fucking lesbian? Are you planning on leaving me then, to be with a woman?"

"No silly, I have no intention of leaving you, for a woman or a man. I love you far too much for that. I do think I might be bisexual though, or at least curious. It turns me on quite a bit, thinking about what it might be like being with a woman."

Bruce didn't seem to have anything to say to that, and she lay there in silence, worried that she might have shared too much, that Bruce wouldn't be able to handle these things she'd just shared with him. Not really sure what to do, she struggled to come up with a way to un-ring the bell, to take back the words that had just come out of her mouth, and return to being a normal middle class married couple, with a sex life that was good enough in its way, if a bit on the boring side. But of course there was no way to do that, so she took the next best alternative.

"Bruce?"

"What, is there more?" he shot back. "Have we not got to the end of this nonsense yet?"

"Would you please reach into the nightstand drawer, and fetch my vibrator? I want to show you what it's like, for me, when I think these thoughts."

He reached into the drawer for her lipstick vibe, and almost flung it at her. There was no going back now, and Yvonne needed to see this through to the end, so she shut her eyes, shut out the sounds and sights of the room around her, shut out her husband's frosty reaction to what she'd tried to share with him, and focused instead on her fantasy. Her head filled with thoughts of being tied up, clamps placed on her nipples, of feeling the kiss of a flogger on her backside, on the back of her thighs, and on her tits. She thought about being with a partner with breasts: sweet, soft, squishy, beautiful breasts for her to fondle and suck on. She thought about being made to prioritize her Mistress's pleasure above her own, of the sweet taste of a pussy other than hers, and of being fucked from behind with a strap-on while her Mistress pulled her hair and called her filthy names, the ball gag in her mouth stifling Yvonne's own moans and screams. While she thought these thoughts, she held the vibe in place buzzing away on her clit. In no time at all her breathing became short and she started to moan. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," she repeated over and over. Then she came, and more than that she ejaculated, squirting all over the bed and soaking the sheets right through, while orgasmic spasms wracked her body for what seemed like hours on end, but of course could only have been minutes.

Spent, she collapsed on the bed and opened her eyes, looking at her husband for the first time since she'd begun playing with herself in front of him. She scanned his face and desperately sought eye contact with him, seeking reassurance that he was okay, that she hadn't just fucked up her marriage beyond repair. "Are you mad?" she whispered.

"Mad at something that can make you do that?" he said. "Not bloody likely." He paused for a moment, reflecting, and choosing his words carefully. "It's going to take me awhile to get used to this, to let it sink in," he said, "but no, I'm not mad. I'm fucking turned on, is what I am." With that, he took her hand and held it against his crotch, allowing her to feel that, despite having just come inside her not half an hour earlier, Bruce's cock was once again rock hard. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and began stroking it, as he rose up on his knees. She grasped his cock with both hands in this new position, and aimed it towards her tits, still stroking it furiously.

"Come on my tits, lover," she said, reassured by his reaction. "Show me how much it turned you on, watching me squirt for you, just like it will turn me on watching you come for me. Go on then, come on my fucking tits!" Bruce did exactly that, forcefully, his semen shooting from the head of his cock in white, ropy streams to land on their intended target. Yvonne kept stroking until the very last drop had shot forth and, suddenly sensitive, his cock recoiled from the touch of her hands. She got up to visit the bathroom and clean herself up, and returned to find him still resting in bed. "So we're alright?" she asked.

"Like I said, it's going to take me a while to adjust to all this, but I think so, yeah."

"Good," she said, smiling once again, "then you won't mind helping me change the sheets," and Bruce helped her do exactly that, prior to them falling asleep, both still naked, in each other's arms.