How to Spank a Naughty Wife

She was crying out crazy talk now as I pounded into to her for the next several minutes, begging me to fuck her harder, not to stop, telling me that she's my slut, daddy's slut, and then that she was about to cum, that she couldn't hold back a moment longer... and then she was screaming that she was cumming...

And I came too.

It was one of those shaking, slack-jaw, eyes rolling to the back of your head orgasms that you get all too rarely... and my thrusts went from rhythmic to spastic as the orgasm radiated through my own body, and I heard her cumming again as well. My head actually fell all the way back over my shoulders as I pumped and squirted my semen into her, in half a dozen intense ejaculations over what was either twenty seconds or twenty years, and even in my impaired state I knew that I must look absolutely ridiculous right now, as if I had been electrocuted.

I guess in a way I had.

Still standing, swaying, I eventually came back to myself, my thrusts ending and my cock still fully inside my wife. I shifted my stance, and let my head fall forward, chin on my chest, breathing heavily.

At some point I'd moved my hands from pulling her closer to me from her thighs to resting them on the table, resting my body weight on them. I was still inside her... and I could again feel her pussy contracting around me, this time around my slowly softening cock.

Usually, in bed when we had normal sex, I'd lay on top of her for a minute, resting my body on my hands or elbows, and would kiss her, tell her I loved her, until I got tired, and had to move.

But this was a bit awkward. She was bound and blindfolded, and really couldn't move much. The sexual experience we'd just had was incredibly intimate... but this, I felt, quickly wouldn't be much except uncomfortable for both of us.

Also, awkwardly, I needed to close out the roleplay. It was tempting to just go back to our normal roles and start releasing her from her binds. But... no... I owed her, and myself, something like a clean finish.

The last few minutes had been pretty vague at the peak of my orgasm, but I remembered telling her that I loved her a number of times, and how much I needed her... and her responding with the same. It was like I had been drunk, and now was sobering up.

"Miss Heath... " I said, still inside her. I wanted to kiss her, and knew that I awkwardly had at some point while I was fucking her. I cleared my throat. "Miss Heath, I do believe that you perhaps have some possibility of redemption."

She giggled, the sound a tinkling of jelly-bean windchimes rippling through the sex-infused workshop of our lust.

I didn't expect that, and suddenly I felt happy and light.

I pulled my cock out of her, and continued speaking as I unclipped her wrists cuffs from the chains, then started to remove her wrist cuffs.

My cock dripped onto the gym mats.

"I think these punishments are helping you. We'll have to do them regularly."

"Yes, Mr. Ryan." She giggled again. "I'd like that."

As we spoke I slid my fingers between the flat part of the butt plug and her ass, and with two fingers applied enough pressure for it to pop out, and I tucked it into a fold of the tablecloth that pooled at the bottom of desk to deal with later when I cleaned up more thoroughly. I'd throw the tablecloth into the washer later, too.

Next, I unclipped her ankle cuffs from the chains, then removed the ankle cuffs from her ankles and helped her to rest her feet on the edge "desk," where we had started in what seemed like a month ago.

"I'd like that too," I said, relaxing out of my role.

I helped her stand. Bizarrely, once she stood, she was pretty much mostly dressed. I'd never even gotten her shirt off. While I stood there fully naked, my cock leaking as it deflated.

I undid her blindfold, and lifted it off her head, and she blinked in the dim light that now seemed blinding to her.

I tossed the blindfold on top of the pile of cuffs and toys, and took her into my arms, holding her.

"My legs are like jello," she said, after we'd stood for a bit with my arms around her. She felt warm and good, and I knew I was probably making a stain on her skirt. Oh well.

I moved back a tiny bit and she looked up at me, and looking into her eyes I brought my lips to hers, kissing her deeply and passionately.

"Let's go up and lay in bed for a bit. We've still got some time before the kids get home. And I'll clean up down here before they get home."

"Okay," she agreed. "I'm exhausted."

I held her for a few more moments, then we broke our embrace, and I waved her to go up the stairs in front of me.

I followed a few steps behind her. I could see her naked ass under her short skirt as she trod up ahead of me, and she looked behind me, amused.

"You just wanted to look at my naked butt," she accused.

"Yep," I agreed. "Guilty."

Epilogue

Mary Kay and I have been together for going on 25 years now.

Marriage is hard. Communication is hard. Expectations, stated and unstated, are hard. And sexual desires and libidos are often not in sync.

Then, add kids, family responsibilities, busy jobs, demands of life, aging parents and our own aging and health issues... and it's amazing that any of us have any kind of sex life at all. Especially with mental and emotional baggage from our own upbringings and our own psychological scars from our childhoods.

I certainly am not perfect. Neither is Mary Kay. Although at times she might disagree. But one thing we have going for us is that we do care about each other. We want each other to be happy, and satisfied in our lives, and our sex lives. We love each other. Despite our flaws.

We'd had a hard time with our sex life for a quite a while before this scene. Her health issues, combined with all the other nonsense I just mentioned, really took the legs out from getting enough sex, and that rippled into everything else. It's not her fault. But that doesn't mean that my own sex drive had just shut down in empathy. I struggled to get my own needs met, and I struggled to both communicate what I need without demanding or begging, without acting needy or accusatory, while I've felt like I'm starving for the kind of sex I just described here. What I've described here might sound extreme to some folks, but for me, this gets to a kind of intimacy, of trust, of accepting and providing for each other's deepest fantasies that is what I need to feel nourished sexually. What I also need is honest sexual exhilaration, for both myself and her, and novelty and adventure. Poor Mary Kay. It's a lot. Many --perhaps most-- women would find this too much. But... at the same time, it seems to me that this is what many women, like those who read 50 Shades, fantasize about, and secretly crave. And their husbands aren't able to provide. So, perhaps we shouldn't feel sorry for her, but feel envious of her. Or perhaps both. Probably both. Life is not just one thing. It's a lot of things, with lots of shades of grey, and lots of things where just one thing doesn't fit every need, every occasion, every mood.

I hope you, the reader found this interesting, and exciting, and maybe something to read to your own spouse to make your own sex life better and improve your own communication about sexual desire.