tagLoving WivesMy Wife Colleen

My Wife Colleen


The Story of Colleen

Tall, leggy and dishwater blond, Colleen is the kind of woman who exudes sexuality just by walking into the room. Attractive without being a knockout, her breasts, hips, legs and ass are all nicely portioned and a sex-maniac's, like me, dream. Her lips are full and her mouth is soft, sensual and she knows how to use it as she demonstrated more than once in some out of the way parking lot during lunch. Her ass is a nice shape, round, ripe and she knows how to use it, bending over at work, showing it off whenever I'm looking, knowing I'm a sucker when it comes to a fine ass.

Having tried romance in a marriage before and failing, I married Colleen because her mind is as kinky as mine and the sex is fantastic.

When we first met, at work, Colleen was married to someone else, but she had no problem cheating on her husband and not just with me. The first day she showed up at work she began the flirting almost immediately. She initiated everything and consequently, the pursuit was short and obvious.

She seduced me until I submitted to her charms.

It started when I was looking for a secretary to type an urgent report. The gal in our department was off work so I ventured across the room to the other side. As I neared her desk, her naughty eyes sparkled. After a quick explanation, I asked for her help. Batting her eyelids, she asked what was in it for her. At first I didn't catch on, but finally asked her what she wanted.

"How about a drink after work?"

And after one meeting we began a passionate, erotic affair.

We fucked like rabbits, anywhere and everywhere. I couldn't get enough of her and her incredible body. She was hot, passionate, and nasty, a combination I found irresistible.

We got off on the sneaking around, trying not to get caught yet openly flaunting our affair as we drove off from work together. And there was the highlighted thrill of illicit lust.

Part exhibitionist, part dare-devil, Colleen seemed ripe for anything, and the racier the better. The kinkier the sex the more she likes it.

If I had been a normal man I might have left things alone, satisfied with the wild sex with no strings attached, continuing our illicit affair, but I wanted her all to myself so I pressured her to leave her husband and marry me. I told her that no one would ever appreciate her unusual, nasty tastes the way I do, and I said that I loved her for them. Who else, I asked, wanted to know all the details of her past love life?

Most of the time, I probed her about her past as my mouth and tongue wandered up her thighs toward the heaven between. Already turned on just by the sight of her nudity, I would ask her about her affairs, imploring her to relate explicit particulars about her other lovers. I was getting off on the knowledge that she had many wild experiences to choose from, since she had spent most of her adult life seeking different ways and different people to pursue her needs.

Fulfilling one of my favorite fantasies, she's even had a threesome, with a man and his wife. Seems the guy was pounding from behind as Colleen enjoyed the woman's pussy the way I enjoyed Colleen's.

Before marrying me, she sat me down and asked very seriously if I was positive about getting hitched. Setting love aside, I told her I had never met anyone who liked to fuck and play around as much as she did. Our libidos seemed perfectly matched. I envisioned a male's

Perfect scenario: all the fucking you could stand with a beautiful and sexy woman, then being left alone to pursue my other hobbies. I explained that I loved her kinky, wild behavior and wanted to be a daily part of it.

Shaking her head, she told me I better be sure about the union because once we were married, things would be different. Alas, like most men, my listening skills are limited; I only hear what I want to hear and not what is being said. I wanted her too much to let her actual meaning enter my lust-driven mind.

Finally, I wore her down and was able to convince her to leave her husband. It took all of my artful persuasion though, pointing out that I was a lot better off financially than he was, by a long ways, and the security appealed to Colleen. As a sign of my devotion, and ability to treat her like a queen, I gave her a thousand dollar diamond necklace.

I also pointed out that I was a soft touch and reveled in going along with her nasty, kinky escapades.

The last part, reminding her of how pliable I was, might have been the clinching aspect of the deal.

Looking back on it, I think I opened a door that made her realize she could control me with her nasty behavior.

At the time I felt we were like twisted twin beings in our mutual desire and that we would be willing partners in everything we did.

Little did I know as I pleaded my case that she was already plotting the next steps down the perverted path of my sexual destiny.

Soon after the marriage ceremony we began to explore new adventures. We didn't discuss what we were going to do; we just sort of grew into them. I wondered how long into our new marriage it would take before things got a bit kinky.

As we settled down and the novelty wore off, things starting changing. Arriving home at my usual time I was surprised that Colleen wasn't there yet. Ordinarily she got home long before I did. Throwing on a couple of steaks I started dinner when I heard her enter.

"Getting home a little late aren't we?" I said, kidding.

"Am I?" she said as she went into the bedroom. Following her, I watched as she began to disrobe tossing articles aside as she went to the bathroom. The steaks were forgotten as I envisioned a quick romp before dinner.

Picking up the discarded articles of clothing, I chuckled, calling out to the other room, "I remember when I was the reason you were late getting home." Again I attempted to draw her into some playful banter, recalling the days when she and I snuck off someplace before she went home to her husband.

"Do you?" she said from the depths of the bathroom.

"Yes. And I remember why you were late," I teased.

"And why was that?" As she reentered the bedroom, she wrapped her robe around her and knotted the belt tightly.

"Well, it seemed you were engaged in some rather sordid affairs that a good wife wasn't supposed to be engaged in." I smiled at the memory.

"You remember those times?"

Bringing her worn panties to my nose, I sniffed the crotch before adding them to the hamper. "You bet I remember. Those days were the time of my life."

"Too bad you gave it up."

She sat at the vanity and rubbed her hair with a large towel. Her robe parted at the top and the slopes of her breasts appeared.

Leering down her robe, I asked, "So what were you doing?"

"Are you asking me if I was doing what we used to do when I used to be late?" Surprised at her answer, I looked at her wondering what she meant.

"Were you?"

"What if I was? Didn't you marry me for being that way?" She left me standing there, my mouth wide open, my cock rising in arousal.

A few minutes later, Colleen sat on the edge of the bed, getting dressed. Clasping her bra over her ample sized breasts, she glanced up at me. I was watching her every movement. She chuckle in that all-knowing way of hers.

"Why don't you help, since you seem so interested?" Nude from the waist down, she handed me her panties.

My little guy stirred in a way he hadn't for a long time. So far in the relationship we had been equal partners, in fact because I controlled the money, I usually had the upper hand. We made love when I wanted, the way I wanted to.

I had a strange feeling that was all about to change. Yet, somewhere deep inside my warped psyche, I wanted it to.

Kneeling in front of her, I glanced up to that beautiful area between her thighs that I cherished so much. Sliding the light blue silk panties up her long, sexy legs made the little guy strain against the confines of my trousers. On the way up I was able to fondle her thighs and hips as I slipped the soft fabric on, caressing the soft sensual skin and thinking that it had been a while since we had fooled around.

After the panties covered her cherished pussy, my hands slid down her silky skin on the way down her legs.

Colleen smiled as she pushed my hands away. Before leaving this spot, I bent forward and planted a soft kiss against her sweet smelling mound, rubbing my lips on her clit, teasing it playfully.

"Be careful you don't get me wet or I'll have to change. And these panties look so good on me, don't they?" In total control of the situation, she pushed my head away.

Next she handed me a pair of her nylons. Rolling them down like I had seen her do so many times, I worked them carefully up her legs. This act of reverse stripping was highly erotic. Fondling her sexy legs, I pretended I was simply making sure the nylons were smooth and straight on her. It was obvious to both of us that I was trying to arouse her.

"You can play with me all you want. But you're not getting any." She stood and slipped on a tight, clinging black dress.

Watching her walk to the door, my eyes riveted to that sexy swing of her ass, I asked her where she was going.

"Out," she paused. "That's all you need to know. You're my husband, not my boyfriend." Standing at the door, her tongue licked her luscious lipstick.

"Don't wait up. I don't know when I'll be back." Her wicked grin sent a pang of jealousy through my veins. Lust followed quickly after. The combination sent the little guy into a sensual tizzy that made my benumbed brain weak.

We were only one month into our marriage and she was already going out. Excitement was joined with worry.

She blew me a kiss as she closed the door.

The night was exquisite torture for me. Torn between jealousy and her kinky behavior, I envisioned all sorts of erotic thoughts of her indiscretions, from the vision of her gorgeous ass available to the pounding of some big dick to the sight of her luscious mouth around some huge, strange cock.

My little guy got worn out as I played with myself all evening, falling asleep only after getting myself off twice.

This new behavior continued almost every night. Colleen came home later and later from work, then casually dressed up for an evening out on the town. The only pleasure I got was helping her dress sometimes. Even that happened less often as she started getting dressed in the bathroom, far away from my prying eyes and helpful hands.

"Why won't you let me help you dress anymore?" I threw the question out as she started for the door on her way out for the evening.

"Does that help you get off?" She paused at the door.

I didn't want to admit that being used as her servant held a special place in my lust-filled brain. "Well, it seems that's the only time you allow me near your body anymore."

"Is it? I hadn't noticed."

"So can I help next time?" There was more pleading in my voice than I wanted.

"We'll see," she said as she closed the door. "But I doubt it."

Getting ready for bed I forsook my usual practice of pajamas and jumped under the covers completely naked. My sole consolation was licking a pair of her used panties.

Colleen came home late that night. Glancing at the clock by the bed, I noticed it was after three in the morning. She left the lights off and stripped in the dark, her shadow illustrating the movements. The vision of her disrobing, after all of my cruel suspicions, was extremely erotic, as though she was some exotic courtesan. I thought she would go into the bathroom but she just threw her clothes on the floor and hopped into bed.

She lay on her back and seemed content to go right to sleep. Listening carefully, I waited for her to drift off. As her breathing became deeper, I slowly lifted the covers back. A whiff of sex wafted in the air.

As if I was some kind of timid teenager, I snuck my hand slowly between her legs.

My fingers felt the softness of her pussy hairs. They seemed matted and a bit sticky. My own breathing became ragged, as my suspicions were being proven true. Bringing my fingers to my nose I sniffed for further evidence. Having spent multiple hours with my nose, tongue and mouth between her legs I recognized her odor, yet it seemed a little different, a bit more pungent.

Sneaking lower in the bed I sought more proof. Gently prying her long legs apart, I brought my face closer to her mound. The scent was strong, a definite sex smell. As my mouth touched her pussy hairs, I felt the wetness. My tongue inched out and licked.

The taste was undeniable. I was positive that the salty, creamy, crusty, dried remains all over her were a sample of her lover's affections. My tongue probed the inner regions of her nasty pussy and I was rewarded with more of the strange liquids. The juices poured out into my receptive mouth. Greedily lapping them up, I licked and sucked until I felt her responding.

Awake or asleep, Colleen soon climaxed in my mouth. I remained there, clamped to her delicious pussy as the sounds of her sleep again filled the air. Taking a last licking, I left her beloved, yet nasty pussy, and went to sleep myself.

The next morning, I awoke before she did. Sneaking down again, my mouth sought the crusty area of her pussy and slowly roused her from sleep with my gentle mouthing. After a delightful climax, she pushed me aside. Holding my head she lectured me.

"There will be no more of that without permission."

"What do you mean?" I asked. She simply shook her finger at me and rose and left the bed.

"Hey! What about me?" I exclaimed from the sheets, my rampant member pointing to the sky.

"The little guy's going to have to wait," she said as she strode off into the bathroom.

"Wait? What do you mean wait?" Strangely, her reference to my manhood as the little guy only served to inflame me further. Groaning in frustration, I considered jerking off into her used panties. The night of anticipation, anxiety, and the morning's pleasure all added to my anguish.

"You don't get your turn until later, if then." The words came from behind the door. I could hear the sounds of the shower.

Rushing to join her, I pulled back the curtain and stepped in.

"Did I say you could join me?"

"No, but I thought I could give you a hand." I took the washcloth from her and began scrubbing her back.

"All right, go ahead, but all you can do is wash—no extras, and no fun." Pouting I went about my job.

Taking a surprised pleasure from my task, I did a thorough cleaning. When I spent too much time on her full breasts, she pushed my hands away. I felt that she needed extra time spent between her legs but again she stopped me when I lingered too long with this task. She stepped out of the shower leaving me alone and excited.

"Go ahead and finish yourself off if you want," she said as she disappeared. "You're not getting any for a while."

Deliberating about it, I finally decided that jerking off in the shower would simply be too humiliating. The denial somehow seemed to add to my sense of arousal, inflaming me with a strong desire to see where she was taking me. I grabbed a towel and followed her.

"What do you mean I won't be getting any for a while? We used to fuck constantly. That's why I married you in the first place."

A towel was in her hands as she wiped her hair. She turned and looked at me with a mixture of pity and disdain.

"No. You married me because I turn you on in a way you've never been turned on before." She dropped the towel, knowing I would pick up after her. "Do you remember when I told you that my first husband and I never did it?" I nodded. "I said I always fuck my boyfriends. Not my husband." The light was slowly dawning. She shrugged. "Well, you were my boyfriend. Now, you're my husband." I picked up the towel and put in the dirty clothes hamper. She smirked. "You traded positions, willingly, I might add. You wanted to be in this spot. You wanted me to cheat on you instead of with you. You made the choice, I was satisfied the way it was. Although, I have to admit, this is turning out to be a lot better than I could ever have imagined."

She shook her head at my obvious stupidity.

Every night she came home late, if at all. Since the announcement, we never made love any more.

The only satisfaction I got was after she fell asleep. As she drifted into slumber, I was able to crawl between her legs and sneak a quick lick or two. Most of the time, she woke up and slapped me away.

If I got too anxious, she would send me into the other room to sleep.

Depriving me of sex was the first step. Next, she denied me the privilege of seeing her naked anymore, saying that that honor was reserved for her boyfriends.

"Boyfriends?" I asked. "You have more than one?"

"I always have more than one." She looked at me like I was an idiot. "One man can't keep me satisfied."

"Did you have another lover when we were fooling around?"

She snorted. "Of course, I did." She gave me one of those penetrating stares. "Remember, you were only good for the single time."

Chagrined, I recalled the first time we were together. As was my usual practice, I went down on her, working my oral skills until she had an orgasm. I always did this with women for two reasons. The first was because I loved eating pussy, and frankly would rather eat one than fuck one. The second reason, and a very important one, was that by getting them off with my tongue, they might be feeling satisfied and not judge the performance of my penetration. Frankly, I was worried that they may have been accustomed to more equipped gentlemen.

After our first go around, Colleen waited until I recovered from the awesome experience and then asked me if we could do it again. The woman is insatiable. Well, the mind was willing, but the little guy lay exhausted on the battlefield, totally shot. Spent, my little guy, not the hardiest of manhood to begin with, was too withered for an encore. Shrunken, the little fellow seemed even more unfit for battle than usual.

Embarrassed I declined, saying I had an appointment I had to go to. A sly smile led me to believe she knew exactly what the problem was.

"I remember."

"Usually, after your performance," she smiled, "or lack of, I went right away to one of my studs, one of my other lovers." I was shocked.

She shrugged. "I told you I need it more than once. You knew it."

I couldn't argue with her, she had been honest with me.

But I still wanted her. Every night I pleaded with her to grant me some sort of relief. Before she went out, I helped her dress. The servile act seemed to excite both of us. Me, because I could visualize the clothes she was in when she got fucked by some stud and her because she enjoyed the humiliation I went through dressing her for some other lover.

She teased me constantly with allowing me to see some of her but never all of her. Her nakedness was reserved for those who deserved it, for those who were going to take advantage of it. But I did get to see her legs as she dressed, and sometimes her panties, but those occasions were very rare and very special.

One night she allowed me to kiss her pussy through her panties. Rubbing gently with my worshipful lips I tried to get her turned on so she would grant me some privileges, maybe allow me to lick her there without the panties, or maybe even enter her.

"Oh that feels good," she purred. I kept at it my hopes soaring, the little soldier rising to attention at the nearness of her womanhood, right there, right under this thin layer of cloth.

"Keep it up, slut," she moaned, driving me crazy with lust. "My lover wants to fuck me as soon as we get in the car." Chagrined, I realized that all I was doing, my entire purpose, was getting her nasty pussy hot and ready for some stud to plow. Nonetheless, I continued my slavish devotions.

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