Our Former Marine

BABS

Babs came into the living room, stopping for a moment to look at herself in the mirror over the chiffonier. She fluffed up her russet hair and saw that it was nice and curly, and smiled.

She could stand over him like this-make him kiss her boots, or-remember the time Arlen had to rub his dingie against the chiffonier table leg?

Arlen just stared up at her magnificent tan tits, pushing out of the magenta-no that was when she was wearing a Merry Widow, wasn't she? Babs snorted.

Supporting that gut on his bare knees in the carpet. Oh my.

Babs now examined her breasts in the mirror's reflection.

Encased in a purple body stocking, her tits were close together and fixing to burst from the cleavage.

Ah, just like when Babs won first runner-up as Miss Buttermilk competing against the other state contestants in the Strawberry Festival Teen Sensation.

Babs remembered that Miss Ponsonby County had just made it past her that year, but if Babs had worn the swimsuit she'd wanted...

Yes, instead of the one her Jesus freak mother had insisted on, she'd probably have been Miss Strawberry Festival, and gotten the five thousand dollars towards a state college scholarship.

Babs grinned, and jiggled her boobs a bit, and then pulled the material just under her cups a little, so the tits strained a little more. Arlen would like that.

Babs went into the living room, and sat on the couch, gazing at her crossed legs. Her six inch pumps were glorious, they really were. Babs had good legs, but the right heels turned her into a damn Amazon.

Last month, Babs had Arlen do his business in front of the picture window, and boy had that freaked him out.

Arlen was nearly as strait-laced as Babs's mom was, but he'd wanted to have his little experience.

"Jerk off in front of the window, Arlen" Babs , or wait another month, and blushing and cringing, Arlen had rubbed one out, fast.

The humiliation of it all must have aroused as well as horrified him, poor creature.

Babs smiled at the memory. Poor bastard had probably wanted to drag it out a little, but was so afraid one of his neighbors might see him beating his meat, that he jerked off as fast as possible.

Babs felt badly about that later. Poor Arlen had been waiting thirty days for his time out of the belt, and he really could've had a bit better an experience.

Babs drummed her long red nails on her right leg, elegantly crossed over the left, and finally, she whistled. Just as loudly, through two fingers as she had when she'd been captain of the Drill Team and had to bring the girls to practice.

Arlen had been a running back. And a fast one!

Not the year Babs was drill captain, he'd graduated a year before she started up at West Buttermilk High. Even then, he was known as a sure shot for the pros, but he'd blown out his knee.

Arlen came into the living room. Arlen was naked except for the belt. Babs noted with amusement that the pouch covering Arlen's crotch was pulsating a little bit.

"Hey, Babs." Arlen said shyly.

This as if they hadn't been married for twenty-six years. But Arlen was as horny as a college freshman, and it was, of course, because he spent so much time locked in the belt.

Babs smiled at Arlen and rubbed her right nipple between her forefinger and thumb.

Arlen fixated on this, and his eyes widened. When their new relationship had emerged, one of the first things Babs had forbidden Arlen was access to her marvelous breasts.

Arlen worshipped them so much, and she figured this would make them even more enticing.

Arlen hadn't touched Babs's tits, except for Christmas and his birthday for nearly three years.

She kept him staring at them, as she wore tight tees and open peasant blouses. He always looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Once, Babs had walked in on Arlen, just before she'd locked him in the belt.

Arlen had been sniffing Babs's bra and jerking his dick, and Babs had gotten so mad that she'd beaten Arlen's penis into tininess with a steel ruler.

Where was that ruler? Ever since Ethan and Elwood had gone off to college, all the rulers in the house were gone.

Babs still had her trusty leather strap, and a cane or two. It kept Arlen from getting too fresh.

Just last night she'd given him twenty, and then he'd burst into tears and kissed and licked her large, full ass...

He cried so easily these days.

Now he was staring at her large, supple breasts and probably hoping that Babs would remove her body stocking.

"So, are you ready, Arlen? Been waiting all month, huh?"

"Y-yes Babs." Arlen looked as if he'd been sweating.

A couple of days ago, Babs had bound Arlen's hands and lay him over the armoire. She'd removed the belt and rubbed his thick cock with her long fingers, the red nails shining.

She got such a kick out of it when, after pulling on the glans for almost eight minutes, he was about to shoot like a fire hose, and then Babs would choose to get up and go make herself a Margarita.

Coming back, and sipping, she'd seen poor Arlen trying to turn over and rub his dick against the material of the armoire, so desperate was he to have some kind of release.

At the time, Babs had set down her drink, and picked up the wicker carpet sweeper and whacked him as he'd struggled against his bonds, till he'd finally lay still, and then she'd rubbed just a bit more.

Now and then she'd show up at some house that he and his crew were de-molding, or doing other home improvements.

Babs would bring the guys lunch, and then pull Arlen into one of the bathrooms, and unlock him, and have him sit on the toilet...

She'd sit on his lap and toy with his burgeoning cock for forty minutes before re-locking him and sending him back to work, very, very distracted.

What a month it had been!

ARLEN

Arlen stood in front of Babs, trying to maintain his dignity. He'd tried to keep her happy. This was a time to do it.

Anything could add a week or two to his chastity time. Forgotten chores, watching too much television...

Watching sports with his old friends at Chadrick's Brewmeister was out of the question, but he did like watching at home, and Babs had allowed Arlen three hours a week to enjoy one sport, usually on the weekend.

But he had not watched television in two weeks, because he wanted her to know how industrious he was.

"Come a little closer, babe." Babs said now.

God, she looked hot. Just like when he'd first met her, when he was lifeguarding at the Y. And weeks and weeks of denial had made her the object of his fantasies.

How many men actively fantasized about their own wife?

Arlen stepped up to where Babs was sitting on the couch, and she waved the key at him. "Are you ready?"

Arlen nodded, perhaps a little too emphatically.

Babs pouted. "I'd hate to think you are just in this relationship for the orgasms, honey."

Right. Of the twelve orgasms he'd been "entitled" to last year, he'd gotten only nine, because of minor infractions.

Once, Babs had teased Arlen all night before telling him, just before dawn, that he might as well sleep late, as she wasn't going to let him cum that month.

That had been especially frustrating. "Why?" he'd cried.

"You know." she said before locking the belt and rolling over to go to sleep.

"No, I don't."

"Keep bugging me and it'll be two months."

And what could he do?

Babs now unlocked his chastity belt, removed it, and got up to put it in the dishwasher.

"I hope I can trust you to stand still and not run off to play with yourself."

"Babs, could I just touch it?"

"You want me to put this back on? Or put it in the dishwasher?"

Arlen bit his lip bitterly. He watched his nice, big cock, finally inflate. Oh, it felt so good. But frustrating, since it had been confined...

Confined this time, only a few days, but he'd not released in over a month. Oh God.

Babs came back in, walking carefully on her spike heels. She sat down in front of Arlen.

Leaning over, Babs began playing with Arlen's straining cock. Arlen could see right down her body stocking. Those gorgeous mounds of vanilla.

"How does that feel, baby?" Babs stroked and tickled Arlen's penis and the precum came fast.

"It's wonderful, Babs."

"Your behavior has been great this month. But you know, I like for you to earn your orgasm anyway."

"Y-yes ma'am. What would she do? Would she make him stroke himself while wearing a pink dress and standing in the back yard like she did in October?

Last July, she'd told Arlen that he wouldn't be able to orgasm unless he could suck his own dick...

Arlen had done sit-ups for the entire summer, orgasm-less, but then in September she'd said she was kidding.

But then she'd had him rub his dick on sandpaper, while his hands were cuffed.

Babs ran her fingers up and down Arlen's now quite engorged penis.

"What would you do for a release, Arlie?" She snickered.

"Um, anything, babe."

"This was all your idea. I remember when you had me spank you the first time. You didn't rely on me having such a lively tennis arm, remember that?"

"Yes. I guess I cried a little."

"A little! I felt like I was watching a Shirley Temple movie."

Babs tickled the frenulum, the sensitive place just under Arlen's glans.

Arlen knew he had to keep his hands firmly behind his back. He couldn't get over excited.

He had been the first one to mention female domination, but he felt sometimes as if he'd created a monster.

And Babs could be so cruel.

The last time they'd played with a group of dominant couples, Babs had blindfolded Arlen and made him miss the whole thing, kneeling in the corner, listening to the moans.

She really had a mean streak. But what a hand job she could give. And remember those blowjobs, never to be felt again...

Still, he had an intense need to be Babs's slave, it was just the way things were.

The doorbell rang, suddenly.

"Okay, go answer that, please. Hands off your wiener."

"Babs, I can't-"

"Can't what? Jerk off for ninety more days?"

Arlen went to the door and opened it slightly, to hide his nudity, and the wagging, bulging erection.

"Hey, Mr. Stiner!"

"Oh, hi, uh, Matt. You know, Elwood's gone to-"

"No, Babs called me."

First name basis there.

"You should open the door, dude."

Oh, no. But Arlen opened the door, and Matt, worthless little skate-punk that he was, a twenty year old college dropout, brought in his long board and set it down.

"I don't know if nudity works for you, Mr. S."

Yes, and then damned if he didn't walk over to the couch and sit down and give Babs a BIG kiss.

Jesus, watch them make out. And he's playing with her tits. Taking one out of the body stocking and SUCKING on the nipple.

It turned Arlen on terribly that he wasn't allowed to kiss Babs's precious breasts, but it also broke his heart. Last year she had asked him to pay for the "girls" to go from B's to C's for her birthday.

But still, he wasn't allowed to touch them, and he'd cried bitterly.

He knew she fooled around, Babs did. But she didn't usually bring her dirty laundry home.

Arlen stood there, feeling a little ridiculous.

"Okay!" Babs stopped sucking face for a moment. "So I bet you are wondering why Matt is here, right Arlie?"

"Well, kind of."

"I think I want you to suck his dick, and then you can jerk off on my boots and lick it up. How's that for your December orgasm?"

Arlen opened his mouth, closed it, and winced as Matt spat chewing tobacco on the rug. He watched Matt unzip his pants and pull out his dick.

"I am not gay. Babs, I'm really-"

"You're not much of anything, but I bet you want to cum."

Arlen, the former Marine, dropped to his knees and crawled to Matt's crotch.