Second Wife Ch. 05

"I can do that, Bill," Mary promised, starting to tremble again.

"Bullshit. No you can't, Mary. At least not now. Maybe you can change. Maybe not. But if you don't, well, then we're at an impasse. Even if you do, I'm starting to see that maybe I settled for a B-grade piece of ass when I can get A-grade for far less effort. I know I can do better, now. That puts you in a tough position."

"I'll do it, Bill, I swear! You'll see!" she said, squirming. "I -- oh! -- I'll be the perfect wife, Bill -- the perf-erfect wife . . ."

"I seriously doubt it," I sighed. "I think it's pretty hopeless. Oh, sure, you're putting out now -- but not because it's your nature. You're doing it because you're desperate." I leaned back on my elbows, my legs spread out in front of me. "And I'm going to enjoy watching you try and fail. I don't think you can do it. But I'm amused that you think you can. So crawl over here, you little slut, take out my cock and start sucking. Slowly. I don't want to cum for a while -- this is a pretty day and I want to enjoy it."

"But Bill! Someone might see!" she complained.

"So?" I asked with a grunt. "Then that will give you an opportunity to explain what you're doing . . . and why." She was still trembling, but the potential of me making her recount her sinful tale drained all the cover from her face. The encounter with the Sholens was still fresh on her mind, and the idea of her confessing her infidelity -- and resulting punishment -- was horrific to her. Still, she nodded her head once and then slowly crawled over to my side of the blanket. Looking around nervously she began to paw at my fly.

My cock emerged from my pants like a vibrant daffodil on a late winter day, and Mary wasted no time plunging the stalk deep into her warm, buttery mouth. Her once superior fellatio skills had been honed over the last few months to an exceptional level, and she knew just which areas of my dick to tantalize to produce instant results. Her lips suctioned the head while she bobbed ever-so-slightly in her attempt to be subtle. I didn't mind -- it would take me longer to get off that way, and I wasn't in any hurry.

I lay back on the blanket and stared at the cloudy sky, feeling the chill of the day on my face and hands and just around my balls. But Mary's mouth and hair were doing a nice job of keeping me warm, and if there's a better way to blow an afternoon than getting lazily blown in a park by your humiliated wife, I haven't encountered it.

It's even better when she's constantly stopping and glancing at every little snapped twig and noisy bird. That was what made this hummer particularly exquisite, her terror at being discovered by, say, a couple of college kids. Or an elderly neighbor. Or a university cop. Or a field trip of kindergarteners. Then she'd have to explain why a married, pregnant lady was fellating a gentleman in the middle of the park in the middle of the day. That kept her off her game, which extended my fun.

She soon realized her dilemma, and after ten minutes of start-and-stop sucking she began focusing more on sucking and less on getting busted. Only then did I start to make the climb towards orgasm.

I could smell her shampoo from here, I realized, and that made me happy, for some reason. It was a clean, innocent scent, and it made me think all the more about the way her hair was tickling my thighs.

She took a brief break and stroked me with one hand while she looked up at me.

"Bill, are you close?" she whispered.

"I'm getting there," I agreed. "I'm certainly enjoying the ride."

"My knees are starting to cramp up," she confided. "If you could finish soon, I'd be grateful."

"Sounds like a personal problem," I drawled, lazily. "You just do what you do, and when I'm ready you'll know. Better hurry, though -- I hear this is a popular picnic spot for the lunch crowd at the university."

Her eyes opened a little wider, and she quickly bent her head back to her diligent task. Her lips clamped down even tighter, and she ringed the base with her fingers and was jerking frantically.

It felt good -- really good. Too good. She had been working away for fifteen minutes, now, and I wasn't ready to end my fun. A distraction was called for. I slowly stuck my hand in my jacket pocket, found the little controller, and tagged the button.

Instant reaction! Her mouth on my dick slackened as she moaned involuntarily around it. I could feel her entire body shake as the remote vibe went postal on her G-spot. She clenched her legs together and struggled in vain to keep her rhythm going on my dick, but to no avail. She shuddered through a drenching orgasm in short order, and when she did get back to work it was a little on the sloppy side. I didn't mind one bit.

"Ohmygod, Bill, you can't keep—"

"Yeah, I pretty much can," I interrupted, softly. "I've got all day. And an extra set of batteries in my pocket."

I left the device on while she tried to finish, but it was hard for her. She was already worked up pretty badly, and she went from one climax to the next. It didn't help that her knees and arms were tired from being in this position far too long. That gave me the additional sadistic pleasure of feeling her whimper in discomfort as well as pleasure around my cock.

"Oh, yeah!" I groaned. "That's a good little wifey bitch, Mary. Suck that cock like it's got the antidote in it. Suck it like it's the best piece of chocolate in the world. Suck it like it matters . . . that's good! Ahhhhh, yeah, that's sweet . . ."

When she finally came out of the series of climaxes she had been forced to endure, I cut off the vibe and she relaxed, gratefully, and focused far more on getting me to cum. I was getting close, too, when I realized that my ass was cold, laying their on the ground, and I wanted to extend this blissful humiliation out a little more. I pushed her head away and helped her to her feet, my cock still exposed -- and suddenly cold, considering how much spit she'd slobbered on it during her blowjob. I mean, my boxers were soaked with it.

"What?" she whimpered. "Wasn't I good enough? I can keep going," she assured me, anxiously.

"I know," I agreed. "But I'm getting a little cold, here. Let's head over to that magnolia grove," I nodded. "I want to change positions."

"Okay," she said, accepting. "As long as I was a good slut for you."

"I'm giving you a passing grade, at the moment," I said, gently. "Let's finish up in style." I casually covered my exposed cock with the blanket, thrilled by the possibility of accidentally being discovered with my freshly-sucked wang out.

I led her by the hand to the grove, and took a quick look around -- anyone who saw us would be able to tell what we were up to. Adults don't usually go ducking into the concealing interior of magnolia trees to discuss current events.

If you aren't from the South, you might not understand the role magnolia trees often play in your sex life. From the exterior, they have large, shiny greed leaves, waxy to the touch, with large fragrant white blooms in season that draw the eye. On the inside, though, it's like they're hollow, with a tangle of easy-to-navigate branches that turn into a kind of dark magical cave. From inside a magnolia you can see out pretty easily, while outside a mature specimen it's very hard to see in. Southern kids learn this as children, because magnolias are so much fun and easy to climb, and they remember well into adolescence because they also make a great place to duck into for a little sexual experimentation. I kissed the second girl I ever kissed in a magnolia.

Mary looked around nervously and shivered, then glanced at me expectantly. I dropped the blanket to the ground at my feet, exposing my still-hard cock, and nodded. "On your knees."

She complied without comment, although I had to help her down. Once situated, though, she immediately went back to work sucking me, a lot less nervous about being spotted. Her hot mouth on my cold hard dick was electrifying. She closed her eyes and put her best effort into it, taking long slow sensual sucks while her hands cupped my balls. I started getting excited again, and decided to share the experience by flipping on the remote again.

Her back immediately arched as she groaned at the unexpected sensation. I let her pant and suck and groan some, then put my hand on her head and began guiding her movements. She looked up at me with a mixture of fear, excitement, expectation and devotion, and despite my constant state of ire I felt a surprising surge of the love that had attracted me to her in the first place.

Can't have that, not while I'm humiliating her. She had been getting off more and more on the humiliation, even while she protested it. So I started calling her a filthy whore, a cum-sucking slut, a cheating bitch with a golden tongue -- I forget exactly where I went with it, because the excitement of the vibe, the verbal abuse, and the precariously exposed location were pushing Mary over the edge to another hard orgasm and I was only seconds behind, filling her mouth with my seed as she struggled to keep from screaming around my cock.

She swallowed, though, and perhaps with a bit of satisfaction. She was licking her lips clean as I helped her up, and I was perversely proud of her enough to give her a kiss on the cheek -- the first act of genuine affection I'd shown her in months. It was very much out of my recent character and it surprised her. Despite the fact that I had just treated her like a crack whore, she took that simple little kiss as a sign of hope. She was smart enough not to mention it, though.

The next morning while she went to her parent's house I checked her diary to verify if I was correct -- and I was.

Today was intense! Bill took me on a picnic lunch at the Gardens today, and of course what I ate was his dick. He found this wicked little remote control wireless vibe and forced it into my cunt. He kept turning it on while we walked around, and I even had to keep a straight face when we met the Shoens. I couldn't believe hot wet it made me to struggle not to cum right in front of Mrs. S! By the time he made me suck his dick in the meadow, I would have done anything he asked. Then he took me inside a magnolia tree to finish him off, and made me cum with the vibe.

The great thing about it all was the kiss: yes, he finally kissed me! An appreciative peck on the cheek, more brotherly than anything else, but I'm thrilled at this small sign -- could it be that he's considering a reconciliation somewhere deep in his heart? I bit my lip before I called attention to it. If he is having these feelings, they're buried under a pile of anger and hate and rage. Still, like a tiny flower growing out of a crack in a lifeless parking lot, this is a sign of hope. I guess he likes it when I really slut-out like I did today. Of course he did, who am I kidding? I'll ask Mom's advice when I see her tomorrow. She's been married for over thirty years. I'm sure she'll have a good perspective on this. And I know she wants me to salvage this miserable marriage I destroyed as much as I do.

But can I melt Bill's icy heart once again just by being some kind of perverted sex kitten? Is that what the rest of our life is going to be like, me a helpless cum-slut catering to his every whim? Of course not. Once I get him good and melty, I think we can return to the way things were, more or less. Because this perverted, dysfunctional sexual shit can't last. He's got to get tired of it eventually and crave affection and love from me again. If I can just hold on -- wait, what am I thinking? Of course I can hold on! I can put up with the indignities and the humiliations and bizarre sex games. I can suck other women's juices off his dick and smile like I like it. I can hold out as long as I need to for him to forget about my sins and remember he loves me again. I just know I can!

That thought got me through the day. She can put up with the humiliations? We'd see about that.