Happy Place Pt. 02

If you really hated Part One, don't read Part Two because Barbara doesn't get sweeter.

I woke up the next day feeling refreshed. I put on some clothes, went into the living room, retrieved the other half of my chastity device, removed the base which I had worn through the night, washed and dried them, put a towel on the vanity top, and laid them down to air dry. I hopped in the shower after shaving my face and brushing my teeth. I had just manscaped the day prior so my genitals were baby soft. Finished my shower, toweled dry, deodorant applied, there was no need for a comb as my scalp was as bald as my genitals.

I put on shorts and a t-shirt and went outside where I retrieved the newspaper. I brought in, gave it a cursory glance, put it back in order, and placed it on the table for Barbara to read while she enjoyed her hot tea. I had mixed feelings about the day ahead.

I put the coffee on, checked the backyard for trash, and started breaking down the card tables and folding chairs I had set up for dominoes. I put away the corn hole, horseshoes, and washers. Back inside I poured myself a cup of coffee. I figured Barbara wouldn't be up for another couple of hours as she liked to sleep in on Sundays.

I wondered if Brett had gotten lucky last night. His idea of lucky and mine were night and day apart. Last night had been awesome. I took my coffee and went outside to enjoy the fresh air. Perfect day for a baseball game. After the game, he'd take her back to his house for lovemaking, dinner, more lovemaking. She'd come home with a smile on her face, but she'd also be a bit withdrawn. I had learned to give her space. What she had with him wasn't just sex, but love. A deep, profound love. She invested a lot of time and energy in their relationship. He had been very slow to reciprocate the pursuit, but over the years he had shown remarkable improvement, He understood the phone rings both ways, cards, letters, gifts are meant to also be sent, just not received. He had grown a lot. He and I got along, but his relationship was with Barbara, not me. He never really discussed me with Barbara. He just concluded I accepted their relationship. It took him a long time to get comfortable having a girlfriend who was happily married to a man who accepted their relationship.

In their early years he wouldn't come to the house, He insisted they meet somewhere which was strange considering their relationship began as a friendship. It also told me he had always wanted something deeper than friendship with my wife. They met at work. He was upper management while she was middle management. She addressed him by mister or yes sir and no sir. He shook hands when he met people, male or female. She was nervous the first time they met because he had a reputation for being no nonsense.

His secretary summoned she and a few other mid level managers to his office. He shook each person's hand, but when he got to her he made eye contact with her longer than he did the others. He also held her hand a little longer than he did the others. She didn't look away, but stared back at him.

"He has the prettiest eyes. It wasn't love at first sight, but it was close. He and I connected."

He spoke. They listened. She thought he made more eye contact with her than the others. He was a good speaker. His suit was custom. He wore it like a model. He combed his hair back. He had a strong face. He was tan. She noticed his nails were trim and clean. He didn't have a ring on. He took off his jacket at some point. He was fit.

The meeting broke for lunch. They ate together as a group. He sat across from her. She said they constantly kept looking at each other before looking away. He looked at her hands.

"Don't take this wrong Joe, but when I saw him looking at my wedding and engagement ring I wish I hadn't worn them. All I could think of is he's going to keep his distance. I didn't even know if he thought about me in a romantic way, but I was already thinking about him that way."

That meeting led to more meetings and lunches and conversations. I didn't know it, but she was already setting into motion my metamorphosis from husband to cuckold. When she had a meeting with him she got a manicure and pedicure. She went to her stylist. She'd model dresses for me that evening because she didn't want to be seen in the same dress. I indulged her, laying on the bed as she went into her closet, In nothing but her bra and panties. She usually picked out the dress I liked most.

I knew these meetings were important as they involved upper management, but i had no idea she was dressing for him. The signs were all there, but I didn't pick up on them. She'd turn me down for sex in the days leading up to the meeting, but the day of the meeting and for several days after she was insatiable. I thought stress was behind the big swings in her libido. Too stressed before, relaxed after. I also noticed and tied it to stress how she sniped at me in the days leading up to the meeting. She found fault in everything I did, but then complained I needed to do more, and that after all these years together I should know what she wanted. I shouldn't have to ask. She complained her work was unbelievably busy and suggested quite sarcastically she wouldn't mind if I stepped up and did more. Like most men I thought I did plenty, most of it on the outside of the house, the yard and the cars. I washed dishes, even did some cleaning.

I asked her what she needed me to do.

"You get home way before I do. Start dinner. Do a load of wash. Iron some clothes."

I did as requested. She was happy to come to the smell of dinner cooking.

"The laundry? And the ironing?"

"Laundry is done. I separated everything like you asked, hung what you said couldn't go in the dryer. I'll do the ironing after we eat and I clean up the kitchen"

She hugged me. I hugged her back. She looked me in the eye and said, "I love you."

I could feel her breasts and crotch against my chest and groin. I felt a stirring in my loins. I sensed she felt more amorous because these little things I had done were a big deal to her.

She smiled and told me as she pressed her crotch against mine I was going to get lucky tonight.

I poured us each a glass of Chardonnay.

I asked, "Did your dress impress?"

"I think so. I just always want to look my best for those meetings. We know they're judging us."

"Sounds like you wouldn't mind being upper management."

"I've been there long enough. I really like my job. The people I work with are great. I'm..."

"Comfortable, but you're bored and not challenged. You're also intimidated by them. You should go for it."

"Do you really think I should?"

"I do. If you don't you'll always regret it."

"The hours will be longer. I'll have to travel."

"Travel first class. I can do more. I've peaked where I work and I have no interest in advancing. The job is easy because I've done it so long. I'm not a go getter like you which is why I needed someone like you all these years. Orders I respond to, hints not so much. Just tell me what you need."

She drained her glass of wine, not to give her courage, but to lower her boundaries.

She put the glass down. She stared at me. Her pupils dilated from the wine and her arousal.

She pulled up her skirt.

"What I need is for you to get on your knees and pleasure me."

I responded to her direct approach. On my knees, I began an oral assault on her panty covered sex. I got them soaking wet. The friction of my tongue against the material left my tongue raw. I finally peeled them to the side and began licking her flesh. Within minutes she climaxed. I wasn't aware of my erection, but I was very aware of the spasms preceding an ejaculation, followed by a rapid fire series of contractions.

We separated. She even offered to let me have intercourse.

I apologized and lowered my chin.

She looked down in disbelief.

"You haven't done that since we were dating."

There was already a noticeable wet spot on my slacks.

She touched it to be sure. I was already soft. That spot was fresh.

She later told me she was a bit disappointed, not because it was going to be a good fuck, the kind that made her eyes roll backwards, left her pussy sore for days, but satisfied for days, but because she needed penetration, to close her eyes and pretend it was him.

I imagined and heard more resignation and disappointment than she really felt, forgetting I had just given her a very nice orgasm.

She exhaled and said, "I guess we'd better eat."

She sat down. I prepared her plate, served her, then mine. She asked for a glass of tea, I got one for her. I felt like I needed to make it up to her, to not make her disappointed in me. I behaved more like a man trying to impress a date than a long married husband in what had been a marriage of near equals.

Her reaction was not what I expected. Instead of telling me she could get a second helping or another tea she encouraged me to wait on her.

We even joked about it because it was so out of character.

"Don't let this go to your head Miss Future Executive."

"It already has."

She then thanked me for encouraging her to go for it, but suggested we not talk about it. She hadn't even been told she was being groomed for upper management.

"I have so much to do. Classes and seminars on leadership."

"Do what you need to do."

I then quipped in an attempt to be funny, "Just don't sleep with the boss."

She choked on the tea she was swallowing.

"What made you say that?" She looked mad and defensive,

I assured her I was joking. She calmed down after a few minutes, but not before saying, "If I was a man you would never have made that comment."

"True, I'm sorry. I'm not always the smoothest socially."

She decided to not let my sexist comment ruin the night.

She looked at me and grinned, "If you were the boss and we had sex, would you promote me?"

I said, "Without a doubt."

We parted ways. She went to our bedroom to change while I tackled the kitchen. She went to the living room.

"I'll take another glass of Chardonnay when you get a chance."

I brought her one.

"New gown."

She nodded yes.

I reminded her I still had clothes to iron.

"Iron in here. Why don't you change into your pajama bottoms?"

I set up the ironing board, plugged in the iron, and while it was heating up changed into my pajama bottoms. I carried the clothes needing ironing to the living room. She chatted about her day. I told her about mine noting the differences men and women have in storytelling. Men seldom provide much details about their day while women do just the opposite. Her day sounded so much more interesting than mine with all the stories going on in the background.

"This is nice," she said.

"What is? Me working while you watch," I teased.

"Talking without being rushed. Being an empty nester isn't so bad although I miss them."

"I agree."

"For years we really didn't have time for each other. We were too busy with the kids and their activities."

"True, but I think we maintained a balance. Price of parenting, but worth the cost."

She said, "But now we can focus more on ourselves and each other. And yes, I do like watching you work while I do nothing. Did I surprise you?"

"You did."

"From your reaction, in a good way. You liked me being in control."

"That wet spot on my pants speaks for itself, but yes, I certainly do."

"So did I. I've wanted to be more assertive for a long time, but while the kids were home, it didn't seem right. I don't think they would have liked it."

I answered, "We never did more than exchange a quick kiss and a hug in front of them. They wouldn't have noticed."

She said, "I was referring to more than sex. I like telling you what to do."

She blushed because the talk was making her horny and she was a bit embarrassed, "It arouses me."

I told her, "That sounds like a positive thing. It might have weirded the kids out to see you bossing me around, but only because they wouldn't have been used to it. They'd have gotten over it. Our daughters might even want to try it with their spouses."

"We did raise a trio of strong women."

I said, "Like their mom. You said you felt intimidated by upper management. Is that because they are used to directing people and activities while people at your level get things done through collaboration?"

"Maybe. All I know is it's intimidating. They have no problems telling people what to do."

"And you do."

"Just a suggestion, but maybe you can work on being less intimidated by practicing on me at home. Be more directive."

"You'd do that for me?"

"I would, Barbara. If it will help at work, of course."

"Okay. When can we start?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "When do you want to?"

"How about now? You're ironing my blouse all wrong. Let me show you how I like them."

I was about to hand her the iron when I thought this provided a perfect opportunity for her to wield her assertiveness.

"Barbara, instead of showing me, how about you tell me? You might think it's splitting hairs, but it's not. If you show me, you're the one doing the ironing. An employee could keep playing dumb and you could end up doing their work. If you observe me as you instruct me I'm still doing the work."

"You are smarter than you look Joe."

"In my line of work I have run into a lot of people who want the boss to do the work for them. They play dumb. Learned my lesson on this years ago."

She stood up. I checked her up and down.

"I like the gown. I thought you liked short nighties. You've got great legs. I do like the top. Your breasts look like two teardrops."

"I do like short nighties. I just wanted something different, not so revealing to wear at home, keep the mystery alive."

I understood where she was coming from. Being married for as long as we had been it was hard to keep things fresh. There were pros and cons to knowing each other so well. She had a nice body, but maybe she was onto something. Keep the gift inside wrapped.

"I should do the same."

She knew I was joking because my body was nothing special, but her reaction surprised me.

"Joe, I was thinking just the opposite. I like seeing you in those short pajama bottoms. You have a nice tush."

"And a belly."

"You could get rid of it. Start going to the gym with me. You could make healthier meals for both of us."

Something she didn't tell me is her purchase had nothing to do with me. She had been thinking about him, both during the day and at night. She had created a romance in her head. She bought the nightgown because she imagined wearing it for him when they made love. She wore it in front of me as another step taken in my cuckolding. I'm clueless, believing her story about needing to keep the mystery alive, when she's pretending it's him she's in the living room with.

She instructs me on how to iron her clothes. She's thorough and I learn rather picky. I catch on. She even advised me to write down her instructions in case I forget. I tell her that's a great idea and I put them to paper.

She wasn't exaggerating when she said being directive with me turned her on because her nipples were long and hard.

"Headlights on," I thought.

She stretched and yawned drawing attention to her breasts.

I finished the ironing.

"Now you can put them away."

I rolled my eyes, but did as she asked. It took me a couple of minutes to locate where she wanted them.

When I returned, she was on the couch, a blanket underneath her, and her nightgown draped over the recliner. She had her left foot on the floor. I started to get on top of her, but she told me no. I knelt. We exchanged a few heated kisses before I moved to her breasts. After a few minutes of sucking them I moved down the couch. She draped her left leg over my back as I began to lick her sex.

I didn't know it, but I was about to experience another first.

"You're not going to shoot off like you did before Joe? I want you in me. Maybe we should do it first."

What she was proposing was definitely not our normal routine. Intercourse always came after cunnilingus. When we were dating or as newlyweds we had mixed activities up. but I had kept my mouth away from her vagina and focused on her clitoris. She had been the one who had been squeamish about me licking her vagina after I had ejaculated.

She always excites me and that night was no different. I was really aroused. I always came within a couple of minutes. I didn't want to disappoint her. I pulled off my pajama bottoms and mounted her. I finished even faster than normal. I knew she hadn't had an orgasm, but that she was very aroused.

I thanked her.

"You're welcome."

She was restless.

"Do you want me to continue doing what I was doing before?"

"I would very much like you to."

Back on my knees, her legs open wide, one draped the length of the back of the couch and the other draped over my back. It was a big departure from the past when she kept her legs almost together.

I put my tongue in her and tasted cum. I kept sticking my tongue into her and lapped it up until all I tasted was her. Her reaction was off the charts. She grabbed my head and thrust her pelvis against my face as I licked her.

Afterwards as she basked in her post orgasmic glow, I rested my cheek on her pubis.

She caressed the back of my head where I still had hair.

"You need a haircut. It's getting long. That was really nice. I felt so open. You didn't mind?"

"I didn't mind."

"You looked like you really got into it."

"I did."

She answered, "So did I. The taste didn't bother you?"

"Not really. I was too excited to pay much attention. I certainly didn't want it to stop me from making you feel good. I was surprised you kept your legs wide open."

"Me too. I just thought why not. It's just so much better if your focus is on my vagina than my clitoris. I like the way it feels going in me. I pretend you're either French kissing or fucking my vagina with your tongue. Anyway, I'm glad you did because it wouldn't have been so intense if you had only focused on my clitoris."

"I thought so too. I wanted you to have a really good experience."

"You're so sweet Joe, not to mention selfless."

"Thanks, Barbara. I like doing things for you. You've sacrificed so much over the years. I think it's time for me to show my appreciation, pay you back."

"Lay with me on the couch, Joe. I feel like spooning."

Normally we spooned in bed, my front to her back. She turned on her side and moved towards the rear of the couch. I faced away from her. I liked the feel of her pubic hair against my bottom and her tits against my back. She draped an arm over me.

"This is so nice."

"It is. Nice change. I think we should do more things out here and save the bedroom for sleeping. What do you think?"

"Barbara, I'm game."

That night signified a turning point in our marriage. I had no idea that while we were having intercourse or during the two times I performed cunnilingus on her she was fantasizing about him. Her affair with him had already begun and they hadn't done anything more than talk. It also initiated an exchange of power and a reversal of roles. She had just introduced us to a female led marriage. Pleasuring her orally after her vagina was full of semen was a departure from sexual norm. It was a beautiful act of devotion and submission.

"Joe, there's one thing I didn't tell you about my day. I'm golfing Friday afternoon."

"You are? You haven't swung a club in years."

"I know. I signed up for a charity event. We'll be on teams."

She didn't tell me, but she and the man who would become her boyfriend had signed up as teammates.

"Good. You always liked golf. Where I'm at, all the big dogs play golf. Maybe that's why I never moved up. It bores me."