Love, Respect, & Trust

"Wash or dry?" Sheila asked.

"Dry," Mike said. With one hand, he caught the dishtowel his wife tossed at him.

"How's the shed coming?" she asked as she carefully washed a wine glass.

Mike chuckled. "It's gonna be awesome. I should be done with the framing by the time Dave gets his rear end over here in the morning."

Sheila shook her head.

"You can't wait to get up and use that nail gun again, can you?"

Mike snapped the dishtowel at his wife's lovely ass.

"That's right. A man needs power tools." They grinned at each other as Sheila shoved a dripping pan into Mike's chest.

Mike dried the pan and turned to hang it on the rack suspended above the kitchen island. Reaching around him for the last of the dishes, Sheila deliberately pressed into her husband's back. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the mixture of sweat and fresh air that clung to Mike's skin from his afternoon's labor.

"Go upstairs. I'll finish the dishes," Sheila murmured.

Mike knew the tone in Sheila's voice. He draped the towel over her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't keep me waiting," he told her.

Once the kitchen was cleaned to her satisfaction, Sheila went upstairs to the bathroom. She took a long time preparing for bed despite the fact that Mike was waiting for her.

Sheila slipped into the dark bedroom and quietly closed the door.

"What were you doing in there?" Mike asked in a hushed voice.

"Brushing my teeth, washing my face . . . you know, that pesky personal hygiene hangup I have," Sheila said. She navigated her way through the blackness to her bureau. Mike heard her fumbling for something.

"What are you doing now?" he asked, trying to hide his impatience.

"Looking for the matches. It's so dark in here; there's no moon tonight."

"It's getting late, babe," Mike whispered.

"I know."

"You'll be tired in the morning, Sheila."

She had to laugh at that one. "Always thinking of me, aren't you? The sooner I come to bed, the sooner I'll be asleep, right?"

"Something like that," her husband replied. Sheila could practically hear the smile on his face.

"You know, hon, you do take good care of me. I don't tell you that often enough," Sheila said. She struck a match and lit a candle resting in a wrought iron holder. The light it shed was meager, barely enough for Mike to see what Sheila was wearing.

"We take good care of each other," Mike insisted.

Sheila moved to Mike's side of the bed. Bending down, she stroked his hair, pausing only slightly as her husband turned his head to kiss her palm.

"Honey, there is something I wanted to talk to you about," Sheila said seriously.

Mike suppressed a groan. Why did she always do this right before they went to bed? The excited feeling that was stirring between his legs began to waver.

"What's that?"

"I wish you had asked me before inviting Dave and Tricia over this afternoon."

Mike sat up in bed, perplexed and feeling defensive.

"Sheila, that was your idea. You suggested it this morning."

Sheila sighed. "I know, but I wasn't ready for company. The house was a mess."

Mike couldn't believe his ears.

"Sheila," he began firmly, "you said it was too nice a day to be stuck indoors cleaning. You said you wanted to take a walk with Trish while Dave and I worked on the shed." Mike's eyes were adjusting to the thin candlelight. He could see Sheila was wearing a pair of baggy flannel boxer shorts and one his old t-shirts. The evening was not shaping up as he had hoped.

"I don't always say what I mean, Mike. If you paid closer attention to me, you would know that," Sheila said soberly.

Mike sat speechless on the bed and stared at his wife, who stood next to him with her hands firmly planted on her hips.

"It's just that, you know . . . you don't always take the time to find out what I'm really thinking."

Mike slumped back onto the bed.

"Oh, Sheila . . . what the hell are you talking about? Just come to bed, will you?"

"No. I want to talk about this. I want you to start listening to me. Be more respectful."

Mike rolled onto his side and pulled a pillow over his head. Tonight had such promise. He had seen the look in his wife's eyes and felt her brush up against him as they cleaned the kitchen. How could he have been so wrong?

"I'm serious, Mike. Get out from under that pillow and look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"Okay, Sheila. I'm sorry, honey," Mike stammered as he emerged. He couldn't believe he was apologizing. "I thought you wanted them to come over, really." Mike reached a hand out to touch his wife's arm, but stopped in fear that she would smack it away.

"I thought we had a relationship based on love, respect and trust. I guess I was wrong."

"Sheila!"

"This marriage is a partnership. You don't make all the decisions here, Michael."

Mike spoke as calmly as he could. "You're out of control, Sheila. Come to bed," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'm out of control? You don't get it, do you? You walk around here like the king of the castle, and I do all the work! Do you know what you need?"

Mike was ready to explode. "What? What do I need?" he shouted.

Sheila leaned forward, her nose almost touching his. In her most sultry and provocative voice, she said, "You need to be put in your place."

Her words hit him like a sledgehammer.

Mike couldn't seem to find his voice. He looked down at Sheila's boxer shorts and saw an unnatural bulge beneath the plaid flannel. Mike's cock rapidly came to life as the realization swept over him that, once again, his wife had played him like a fiddle.

He turned his gaze up to Sheila's face. She wore a slight smile, but revealed nothing of her true intentions. Slowly, she pulled up the tattered shirt to reveal her firm abdomen, then her pendulous breasts. As she held her arms above her head, Mike saw her ribs pushing against her pale skin. Sheila's breasts were drawn upwards as she stretched her body, her nipples pulled into dark, elongated ovals. The removal of this one article of clothing seemed to take an impossibly long time to Mike, who reminded himself to breathe as Sheila finally stood barebreasted before him.

"Take them off," Sheila said, nodding to her tartan shorts.

Mike placed his trembling hands on the boxers and tried to pull them down, but the waistband snagged on something. He swallowed hard and freed the boxers from the obstruction, slipping the shorts down Sheila's hips.

"What do you think of that, honey?" Sheila inquired of her spellbound husband.

Mike stared blankly, lost in the mixed emotions of apprehension and desire. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"You wear it well, babe."

Sheila stood before her husband, naked except for a purple leather strap-on harness. Her hand stroked all eight inches of a flesh-colored dildo.

"Suck it," she said with authority.

Sliding onto the bedroom floor, Mike knelt before Sheila and began licking the lifelike dildo. He held it with one hand and took it in his mouth, sucking eagerly. Sheila giggled wickedly as she watched the tall, strapping man who had fathered her two children perform fellatio on her.

"Ooh, you like sucking my cock, don't you, baby?" she teased. "And don't you dare stop."

Mike groaned in response to her question. He worked his hands up the back of Sheila's thighs to her firm cheeks. Grasping her ass, he pulled her toward him, forcing the dildo into his mouth. Sheila fell into rhythm with him, pushing her ass forward as Mike pulled. He spread her cheeks wide and his fingers probed to find the thin leather strap, following it down to her tiny rose.

"There will be none of that tonight," Sheila reprimanded as she pushed Mike's hands away. "Not for me, at least."

At the sound of those words, the dildo popped out of Mike's mouth. He bent his head down, panting in anticipation. The veined, thick dildo dangled between Sheila's long legs.

"Get up there," Sheila told him quietly but firmly. Grabbing him by the hair, she pushed his head in the direction of the bed.

Mike stood and pulled down his boxer briefs. He let them fall to the floor and climbed onto the bed. The small candle flickered waves of light on the ceiling. Mike concentrated on them and tried not to think what Sheila might do next.

He felt her crawl up on the bottom of the bed they had shared for so many years. Sheila gently caressed the arches of his feet with her thumbs, knowing full well he was ticklish. Mike squirmed and tittered, but he did not move from her touches. Next he felt Sheila's mouth kissing his feet as her hands moved up to his calves. Then her lips pressed against his calves and her fingernails scraped down his thighs. Sheila continued this journey up Mike's body for what seemed like an eternity. Mike's loins were ablaze. He reached for his cock, but Sheila's sharp voice stopped him.

"Ah, ah! Not until I tell you," she said in a highly maternal tone.

Mike put his arms down at his sides. His chest heaved with excited breaths. Sheila was just inches from his testicles.

"Suck me, baby."

"Not tonight, honey. I've just brushed my teeth," Sheila said in mock annoyance.

She leaned across the bed and opened the drawer of her nightstand. After retrieving the object she sought, Sheila kneeled between Mike's legs and stroked her strapped-on appendage.

"Mmm, this feels so nice," Sheila said as her hand glided up and down the rubber shaft. "But I bet this will feel even better."

Mike watched as Sheila flipped open the cap of the lubricant. She squeezed a generous amount into her cupped hand and began stroking the dildo again. Mike groaned and let his head fall back on the pillow.

"And now some for you, honey."

Mike picked his head up from the pillow again. Sheila held the bottle of lube high above Mike's body and let the oil stream several feet down to where her other hand waited to catch it. Mike could see the thin, silver thread falling in the candlelight, coming to rest in ribbons in Sheila's capable hand. She closed the bottle and tossed it aside.

Rubbing her hands together, Sheila warmed the copious amount of lube, allowing it to drip from her fingers onto Mike's twitching cock. When the oil had been warmed to her satisfaction, Sheila spread her hands like an angel's wings and embraced Mike's balls.

The upper half of Mike's body jerked impulsively off the bed.

"Oh fuck!"

"For goodness sake, Mike, calm yourself," Sheila gently chided him.

But Mike could not calm down. His body shook uncontrollably as Sheila expertly kneaded his well-oiled balls. Mike's breathing was coming in shorts bursts now, and he cried out when Sheila grasped his cock with one hand and pulled it toward the ceiling, stretching it upward with her slick hand. When his cock when fully extended, Sheila slid her fingers over the head with a twisting motion. Mike lay open-mouthed on the bed, panting and unable to speak.

Sheila continued her manual torture of Mike, scraping her fingernails across his balls and teasing his cockhead with the tip of her index finger. She was crouched down between his legs the entire time, her face within inches of his quivering flesh. Sheila licked her lips unmercifully, but did not give Mike the satisfaction of feeling her mouth upon him. She smiled at the agonized expression on her husband's face.

Sheila knelt over Mike. She applied more lube to the dildo and positioned herself. Mike watched her in rapture.

Without warning, Sheila forced him over onto his side and yanked at him until his hips were up in the air. Mike looked over his shoulder at her in surprise. She responded by pushing his head down onto the mattress.

Holding the dildo in one hand, Sheila rubbed the tip against Mike's tender ass. His body shook in response to this gentle massage. Sheila pushed the head up against Mike's hole.

"Are you ready for me, honey?" she whispered.

"Oh, god, yes!"

"Ask nicely," she said tartly.

"Please, please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck my ass, Sheila. Please," Mike begged.

Sheila swiveled her hips forward slightly. The dildo pushed against Mike's tight opening, which finally yielded. His cry indicated to Sheila that she had passed over the threshold. She watched her husband carefully and waited for his body to relax.

Driving her pelvis forward slowly and steadily, Sheila inched the dildo into Mike's clenched ass. She paused to allow Mike to adjust to the object that was stretching his most sensitive orifice. She could sense that his body was changing, that he was not merely accepting what Sheila was giving. He needed it.

"Do you want it?" she asked tenderly.

"Oh fuck, yeah."

Sheila pushed herself into Mike's body until her thighs were pressed against the back of his legs. His mouth was formed into a perfect circle, and he drew his breath in sharply. She waited, ostensibly for Mike's benefit, but in reality she lived for this moment. Her soft skin was against her lover's hot flesh in a way that was entirely different.

Looking down, she watched as the rubber cock receded from Mike's ass. His tight ring was pulled outward, as if clinging desperately to a lifeline that was slipping away. Sheila stopped as the cockhead neared the edge of Mike's body, allowing it to stretch him fully.

Grasping Mike's hips firmly with both hands, Sheila plowed into his ass. This position allowed her to penetrate him deeply. She drove into him several times despite his cries and half-hearted attempts to pull away from her.

"You like that, huh?" Sheila asked, although it was more a statement than a question.

"Oh yeah . . .!"

"How about this?"

Sheila leaned forward and grabbed Mike's cock with her right hand, squeezing it as the dildo continued to penetrate him. He flinched as Sheila pushed the entire shaft into him. She held her hips still as her hand roughly stroked his stiff erection, pulling and tugging on it. Mike was on the verge of coming when Sheila suddenly spoke.

"Oh, wait, I forget something," she said with a smirk.

Mike groaned pitifully as Sheila pulled her cock out of him.

"I want to watch you while you're being fucked."

Sheila took a pillow from the top of the bed and backhanded Mike on the side of the butt. He obediently turned over and lay on his back. Once she had placed the pillow beneath his hips, Sheila got down on her elbows and knees between Mike's legs. Her tongue moved lazily just below his balls and gradually creeped lower. Sheila used her fingertips to spread Mike open and reveal his puckered hole.

Mike closed his eyes tightly and savored what happened next. Beginning at the center, Sheila traced one tiny pleat with the tip of her tongue outward to the place where Mike's leg met his ass. She returned to the center and flicked her tongue rapidly against his hole. Then she chose another pleat to lick, this time tracing it up to his balls. Again, she returned to Mike's asshole and pummeled it lightly. Sheila drew several more lines on his trembling flesh before sitting up and positioning herself between Mike's open legs.

"Time to show me some respect, honey," Sheila whispered.

With that, she pushed Mike's legs back and forced her way into his body. Her thrusting became gradually faster and more forceful.

A low, rumbling groan escaped from Mike. He had entered sensory overdrive. The scent of the gardenia candle permeated the room, the familiar squeak of the mattress was in his ears, and a million volts of delicious electricity surged through his lower region. And although his eyes were closed, he could see Sheila in his mind. He knew the sexy snarl on her face and the flame in her eyes that appeared at times like these.

Sheila released one of Mike's legs and reached for the harness. A muffled humming sound filled his ears and warm ripples of pleasure traveled up the dildo to his ass.

"What's that?" he asked in astonishment.

"That, honey, is a vibrating egg. It's on my clit. And it feels incredible," Sheila said.

Mike let out a small gasp as he processed this information.

"Where did the egg come from, Sheila?"

"I picked up at the store. You know the place I'm talking about; we've been there before," Sheila said with some effort. Her breathing was becoming labored as both her physical exertions and her passions grew.

Mike's head was spinning. Sheila, his demure wife, had strapped on a false cock and was ravaging him. Sheila, the nurturing mother of his children, had gone to a sex shop and purchased a remote controlled orb that was pulsating against her clitoris and sending waves of pleasures into his rectum. Mike's fingers clawed at the sheets, and he did the only thing he could do. It was the only thing he wanted to do. He gave himself to her.

She rocked her hips forward and back with gusto. It was not merely acting on Sheila's part. This was a truly enjoyable feeling, unlike anything else she experienced with Mike. Some of the appeal was the control, some of it was performing an act that was erotically different, but deep down she knew the truth. Mike needed her this way, and she delighted in his neediness.

"I'm so wet, baby," Sheila whispered hoarsely. Her dominant role as well as the sensation on her clit was making the dampness between her legs soak the harness and coat her inner thighs.

"Oh, god, Sheila. Fuck my ass with your cock," Mike heard himself say.

Sheila tightened her grip on Mike's legs and pumped with every ounce of strength she had. Looking down, she watched the dildo piston in and out of Mike's body. Their arousal was growing exponentially now; they were feeding off one another.

"Stroke your cock," Sheila commanded.

"Yes," Mike answered feebly. Another wave of surreal delight swept over him as he pictured himself lying on his back, his penis in his hands, being taken by a woman. Something like a whimper emerged from his lips as his hands slid over his stiff cock, which was still slick with lube.

"Yes, that's it. Stroke it," Sheila said. Her eyes were ablaze with lust and power. "Does it feel good?"

"Oh fuck, yes . . . ."

Just as he said this, Sheila released Mike's legs and pushed his hands away from his erection. Slowly, she drew the dildo backwards until nothing but the wide head remained in his body.

Sheila bent forward and took Mike's cock in her mouth. She moaned softly, as if she were tasting his delectable flesh for the very first time. For Mike, the sensations were nearly overwhelming. He didn't dare look down for fear he would come right then and there.

Sheila sensed this and released his swollen cock, with a flick of her tongue across the tip for good measure. When Mike was able to look at her again, his wife was smiling devilishly, and the possessed look in her eyes had not disappeared. She plunged the dildo forward and continued her assault.

The vibrations on Sheila's sensitive folds were taking their toll. Mike never saw her reach for the remote control hooked to the harness, but he felt the rumblings intensify. The effect on Sheila was instantaneous. Her thrusting faltered and she held her head very still, biting her lower lip.

"I'm so close," she whispered through her teeth.

"No, not yet," Mike begged.

"I will come when I want to, and you will come with me. Right?"

When Mike did not answer immediately, Sheila brutally forced herself down on him. She no longer feared hurting him. Why should she? Ultimately, his suffering was also his pleasure.

"Yes. Yes, Sheila." Mike answered quickly. Sheila snickered at the pained, euphoric expression on her husband's face. Sliding her hands over Mike's calves, she gripped his ankles firmly and leaned into his body. Every thrust of her hips was now punctuated by the sound of skin slapping together, and by Sheila's grunts.

"Yeah, keep stroking yourself," Sheila ordered in a rising voice.