Author's note: this is just a short, fun thing I put together while staring out at the lawn with a drink in my hand. No deep meaning here.
Outsourcing: his shrewd wife taps ready teen for booty duty
Dammit I love my wife.
Her name is Meredith and everybody calls her Merry. She's perfect. She works a full-time job as a management consultant. She cooks, cleans, does the laundry and the grocery shopping. She files our taxes and she walks my dog. She's a slim, dark haired twenty-seven year-old hottie that pounces on me for sex at least twice a week. Plus, she's smarter than me and she can deepthroat like a pro.
I don't deserve her. I'm not sure anyone does.
The sick part? I was still only 99% happy. So why the 1% hold-out? I'll be blunt: she wouldn't let me put it in her ass.
I know, I know, I'm an ungrateful bastard.
I'd tried everything to get her in mood for anal. Soft music. Massages. Long hot baths. Booze. Pot. We even tried ecstasy once.
But nothing worked, I heard the same things over and over.
"Exit only, honey."
"Why is your tongue in my butt again?"
"Slide that dick back up to the right hole or I'll break it off, Romeo."
It was driving me crazy.
I love my wife. She's gorgeous. I'm in lust with her fantastic little heart-shaped ass. It looks incredible in jeans. In fact, it's how we met. Nine years ago, I picked her up in the grocery store after following her swaying rump and swinging chestnut brown ponytail all the way through the market before working up the courage to ask her out.
We hit it off great. But I soon found out that her perfect tush was just for looking. No pokey-pokey. Or licky-licky. Maybe some rubby-rubby, but that was it.
Seven years of marriage later, I was going insane. Not being able to take advantage of my wife's callipygian gift was like owning a ferrari you're not allowed to drive. It just didn't seem right.
The funny part is that my wife was sympathetic. She actually felt bad about not being into anal. No way in hell she was going to do it, but she felt bad about it.
For my twenty-eighth birthday, she solved the problem. Did I mention that my wife is smarter than me? I think it was right before the part about her deepthroating like a pro.
It started about two months before my birthday. I came home from work and my wife was packing up a cardboard box. It had a really weird mix of stuff inside: chips, pretzels, socks, a roll of duct tape, a fuzzy pillow, some paper towels, a couple of bottles of wine and...
I looked closer...
A bottle of Astroglide? And a dildo? And a little buttplug? And a boxed set of DVD's titled "Assmaster's Vols. 1-6"?
"Uh, honey?" I reached down into the box to pick up the videos. I was amazed she even knew where to buy things like this.
My wife smacked my hand away. "Hey! It's not for you, Tom."
"Oh. So who's it for?"
"Sorry stud, can't tell you. I'm working on your birthday present."
"You're mailing someone else porn as part of my birthday present?"
"Riiiiight. I'm going to grab a beer and go sit on the back porch until I figure this out."
"Good luck," she smiled as she taped the box closed.
I couldn't figure it out.
Something suspiciously similar happened a month later. I had just mowed the lawn and I was taking a shower. My wife came into the bathroom with a digital camera. She took off her clothes, dug a disposable razor and a can of shaving cream out of the cabinet, and got in the shower with me.
I saw where this was going when she spread some shaving cream on my nuts.
"You haven't shaved my balls since our honeymoon."
"I want you to look good for some sexy pictures."
"So that's what the camera is for?"
She hummed to herself happily as she finished my sac and then shaved the patch above my shaft too. When she finished, she rinsed me clean and pulled me into her mouth for the deepthroat treatment.
Dammit I love my wife.
She bobbed and slurped on my seven inch pole and smiled up at me while she did it.
Then she popped her mouth free, turned off the water, and grabbed her camera. She used it to snap a few pics of my stiffy from different angles.
"Uh, honey. What do you plan on doing with these pictures?" I wondered.
"Can't tell you, I'm working on your birthday present."
She ditched the camera and came back to swallow me again. About two minutes later, I was grunting and spewing cum down her throat. She happily gulped over and over again until I finished.
Then she kissed the tip of my deflating dick and smacked me on the butt on her way out of the shower, "You're welcome."
"Was that part of my birthday present too?"
"Naah, that was just a blowjob."
She smiled as she picked her camera up and left.
"I'm going to figure this out," I yelled down the hall.
"Uh huh, good luck," I heard her laugh.
I couldn't figure it out.
What really threw me was when the delivery guys showed up at our house the next Saturday. They carted off our older washer and dryer and installed a set of new high-capacity, front-loading ones.
My wife came downstairs just in time to sign their paperwork.
"So what's with the new appliances, Merr?"
"Can't tell you, I'm working on..."
"...my birthday present," I sighed.
"Yep," she smiled brightly and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss my nose, "Come on upstairs and fuck me as a thank you. You might as well get a head start. You'll have a lot of thank-me fucking to do after you get your present."
I fucked her. I had no idea what I was thanking her for. But I fucked her.
Finally, my goddamn birthday came. Nothing freaky happened in the morning. My wife and I both got ready for work like usual. She did give me a nice long smooch as we climbed into our cars and then she told me to get home from work as soon as I could.
Of course, it was an incredibly shitty day at work. Worse, traffic sucked on the way home. Fridays are always the ugliest where we live. It was after seven o'clock before I even pulled into the garage.
I had to step over a huge, unfamiliar duffle bag packed with dirty clothes laying in the laundry room. The spiffy new washing machine was already going. I made the turn into the kitchen and was happy and sad at the same time.
Happy because our old next-door neighbor's daughter was chatting with my wife. Dylan had always been a nice girl. Merry and I were the older brother and sister she never had. She used to hang out at our house all the time. We'd even given her a key.
Of course, Dylan had turned into a drop-dead hottie as she grew up too. The friendly and nosy ten year-old I'd met developed into a nubile young heartstopper before she moved away.
I looked at Dylan standing behind the counter next to my wife. Her dark blonde hair, big green eyes, and fit little tennis player's body were probably driving the guys at her college nutters.
"Happy birthday, Tommie!" she grinned. She bounced with excitement and I watched her perky chest bob up and down under her t-shirt. And yet she didn't run over to hug me like she used to.
Maybe she'd outgrown me or maybe I was an uncool old guy now. Well, I was nearing thirty. That bummed me out. Plus, Dylan's unannounced visit meant that whatever sexy fun my wife had planned for my birthday would have to wait.
I felt old. Old and horny. That's a crappy combo.
I had just about lost hope, but I still asked, "So Merr, can you at least tell me what you got me for my birthday?"
My wife pointed at Dylan, who was now practically vibrating with excitement. Her brassy blonde ponytail was twitching back and forth behind her head.
"Dylan has my birthday present?"
"No sweetie, she is your birthday present."
I looked at the still grinning teen, "You're my birthday present?"
"Yep, I'm your birthday present," she cheered, lifting her arms in the air.
Well, it was nice to see her again. Maybe we could go play some tennis tomorrow. Or maybe make a big pitcher of sangria and she could fill me in on the last year of her life since her folks moved away or...
That mental train fell right off the track when my wife nudged Dylan towards me and the grinning teen rounded the kitchen counter then bounded over for a hug, crushing her sleek little body into mine.
Huh? Dylan was naked from the waist down.
"Dylan, you're not wearing any pants."
"Nope, and I'm not going to be wearing any tomorrow or the next day, either. So..."
I looked at my wife over Dylan's shoulder. "Whoa, you win. As birthday presents go, having a half-naked coed wandering around our..."
My wife held up her hand and was biting her lip to fight back her laugh, "Hold on genius, you didn't let Dylan finish."
I looked back down at Dylan, she was smiling up at me as she waited patiently. "I was going to say that I'm not wearing any pants so you can fuck me whenever you want while I'm here for the weekend."
I felt woozy, the entire world rotated left about three degrees.
"But only?" My wife, looked at Dylan and arched an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah," Dylan nodded and smiled even brighter, "just in my butt though. Sorry, anal only. Merry's rule."
In the pause that stretched out after, the first thing I thought to do was look around for some hidden cameras. This had to be a joke.
"You're... you're serious?"
"Yep," they answered in stereo.
My wife made her "patient face" while she cracked open a few pistachios from a bowl on the counter. It's the face she makes when she explains stuff to me. One last time: she's smarter than me.
"You see love, I've done a lot of thinking about our anal sex problem. I'm just never going to like it. At one point, I was even looking into hypnosis. But the idea of paying some psychiatrist to put me to sleep and convince me that I liked it in the ass seemed too weird to go through with it."
She snickered then shook her head and chewed a few pistachios. She was giving me time to let this sink in before continuing.
"The trouble was, I was thinking about our problem like a wife. I should have been thinking about it like a management consultant. When I switched gears, it took all of thirty seconds to figure out what to do about this whole butt sex thing."
She smiled as she came over to bat at Dylan's ponytail playfully, "I'm outsourcing it. To an expert." She patted the little blonde's head.
"You're an expert?" I looked down at Dylan suspiciously.
"Yep, I've had more than my share of backdoor loving. In high school, I let one of the guys on the swim team give it to me in the ass. And I really liked it. He bragged about it in the locker room the next day. After that, there was a waiting list for my butt. The tennis skirts I wore half the year helped too. Great advertising. What is it with you guys and tennis skirts anwway?" she laughed.
I couldn't answer because I was still processing.
"So you never wondered why I had so many dates in high school, Tommie?"
"I just thought you were popular..."
"Oh, I was popular all right," Dylan laughed, "And I loved every minute of it too. But I went cold turkey on that stuff when I started college. I don't need that reputation following me up there."
"Except?" my wife prompted, chewing more pistachios calmly.
Dylan nodded. "Except now I miss getting poked in the heinie. A lot. And there's nobody to play those games with me at school. I'm going crazy. Of course, it didn't help that Merry sent me that care package chock full of anal porn, sneaky bitch," Dylan giggled.
"Or?" Merry's nose twitched proudly.
"Or the pics she e-mailed me of your giant stiffy," Dylan smirked.
My wife grinned. "Sorry Dylan, but it did give you some nubbin rubbin' material for those lonely nights up at school. It also softened you up a little too before I pitched my idea," she admitted.
My wife looked up at me, "You see where this is going, honey? You're going to help Dylan and she's going to help you."
She took Dylan by the hips and tugged her away, "Girlie, why don't you bend over the kitchen table there and show him what he's won? I'm going to go TiVo his Friday night TV shows. This is going to take awhile."
I watched my wife leave.
Dammit I love my wife.
Dylan grinned and moved to the kitchen table. She slowly draped her little body onto it from the waist and looked back at me over her shoulder expectantly.
I looked down.
Dylan's bare ass was precisely what you'd think a nineteen year-old star tennis player's ass would look like. It was tiny and round and firm. Her toned miniature cheeks made a tight cleavage. There were even two magical little dimples just above her ass on either side of her spine. It was the single hottest butt I'd ever seen. Even hotter than my wife's.
Dylan was staring at me as she swished her hips from side to side a little. Her tiny tush swayed back and forth without a single jiggle. Just a smooth flexing of her sleek buns.
Oh dear god in heaven.
"Go ahead and touch me, Mr. Marsh. Don't be scared. I'm your birthday present."
That was dirty pool. She'd always called me Tom. The 'Mr. Marsh' thing was just to mess with me. Of course, it seriously worked.
I reached forward and touched Dylan's ass like you'd touch the holy grail or the ark of the covenant. With reverence, awe, and humility. This was proof that there was a divine power out there. He existed and he had molded this little blonde coed's perfect ass just for me.
Touch it? Oh no, it needed to be worshipped.
I fell to my knees in my own kitchen and buried my face between the finest buns I'd ever seen.
Dylan didn't seem surprised a bit. She didn't jump. She didn't even twitch. And she certainly didn't wiggle away. No, she actually pushed her ass into my face. And she moaned.
"Your wife got me some kiwi-strawberry bodywash. Like the smell? I just used it in your shower a little bit ago. I wanted to be nice and fresh for you. Of course, I'm happy to go funky too. If that's what you like. I'm game for anything this weekend."
She clenched her cheeks around me gently a few times as she talked, massaging my face with her buns. Dylan knew her ass was phenomenal and she knew how to use it to drive a guy wild.
"I muv yr mass," I muffled out from her butt, refusing to pull away long enough to pay her the compliment.
She understood me anyway.
"So happy to find a boy who fully appreciates it."
She reached back and laced her fingers into my hair and pulled my face into her more firmly.
"Lick me," she whispered, "I want you to."
My tongue came out on its own and lapped at her tiny pale sphincter, twisting and digging at her tight little knot.
"That's it, stud. Keep licking. Oooh, I missed this," I heard her groan. "Here, give me your hand too?"
She reached back and guided it up to her little mound. Her pussy was completely hairless and perfectly smooth.
"Like it Tommie? I sugared myself bare for you last night. It hurt a little but now I'm so smooth and bald for you. I've been looking forward to this weekend. I've been texting Merry about it all week. I was worried she'd back out."
Dylan circled my thumb and teased it at the entrance to her already slick pussy. Then she dragged my thumb down her smooth slit and centered it on the hardened nub of her clit.
"Rub me a little too? Real gently while you're rimming me. It always makes me cum," she panted.
I swirled tight circles on her clit. It was as hard as a little pebble. With some patience, I also pried my tongue through her asshole and drove it in and out of her quivering opening. It was twitching and snapping on my tongue like something small and hungry.
Dylan was enjoying this as much as I was. Her pussy juices were soon dripping down my wrist.
"Keep licking... almost there..." she mewled.
No problem. I could have done this all day. I licked, sucked, and lapped at her strawberry-kiwi flavored ass with glee.
What followed was one of the top ten moments of my life. This adolescent goddess twisted through her orgasm with my nose buried between her cheeks. She rode my face, my tongue, and my thumb, grinding and humping as she came. Her movements were so erratic that my thumb slipped off her clit and sank into the tight wet heat of her pussy. Her vagina was heaving and squeezing just as violently as her asshole nipping at my tongue.
"Gaaaaaah," she wailed and came harder.
I almost blew off in my pants. This girl seriously liked getting her salad tossed.
Dylan finally let go of my hair and slumped limply on the kitchen table, panting to catch her breath.
I was standing up and rubbing my knees when my wife swung back into the kitchen. She was carrying a basket of laundry.
"So? How was it?"
"Awesome," I gasped.
"I was talking to Dylan silly," she rolled her eyes. "Well?"
Dylan brushed away some of the blonde hair that had fallen out of her ponytail onto her face and looked up. "You are seriously missing out here, girlie. He is really, really fucking good at rimming."
"I'm going to have to take your word for it," my wife smiled. "Do you wash your work-out clothes with your whites or separately?"
"Gotcha. So, going to fuck my hubbie now or later?"
"Now. And probably later too. He's got my motor seriously running."
"All right, but don't kill him. I like having him around. Need me to suck him a little? You know, to get him slippery?"
"Seriously? That would be great. I like spit more than lube. A little friction in the bum is better. You feel more."
"Yeah, going to have to take your word on that too," my wife half-smiled. She set her laundry basket down and knelt in front of me.
"C'mon honey, let's get your slacks off so you can put your cock in the nice little girl's ass."
My wife had my pants down and my drooling dick in her mouth a few seconds later. I was as hard as I'd ever been. I was getting oral from my wife with a nubile young blonde waiting for me to sodomize her. Maybe I'd died in a car crash on the way home from work because this was my personal heaven.
I followed my angel-slash-spouse as she pulled me by my stiffy over to Dylan's insane ass and rubbed my tip up and down the smooth valley between her cheeks.
"Sure you're ready for this, Dylan?" my wife asked, "You're not like, out of practice on the whole anal sex thing are you?"
"S'like riding a bicycle. I'll be fine."
"Okay, it's your ass. Literally," my wife chuckled. "I'm leaving though. It's going to hurt just to watch."
Dylan reached back with one hand to pull one of her cheeks open as I leaned into her with my erection centered on her backdoor. Even though her little hole had been thoroughly rimmed and I was dripping with spouse spit, my cock still buckled and bent as I pressed it against her rosebud. Young Dylan was small and tight.
But she also knew what she was doing.
"Gimme a sec?" she exhaled softly.
I eased up but was still resting against her backdoor so I felt her sphincter pulse and stretch as she forced herself to relax. Her ring opened slightly.
" 'Kay, push again," she said quietly.
I did and it worked. I watched as my tip sank slowly inside her then carefully slid an inch into her ass after she didn't object. It was like easing into hot butter. I never remembered anal sex feeling this good. Wow, Dylan's butt was perfect on the inside too.
"Wait a sec," she murmured. I felt her squeeze and relax a few times. The squeezes were a firm grip, like a rectal handshake. Dylan seriously knew what she was doing. "Ooh, that's nice. Okay, more Tommie."
I pulled out a bit and sank almost halfway into the furnace of her tight rear entrance.
"Dylan, marry me?" I whispered jokingly. I used to whisper marriage proposals to her when she was little.