The Liberation of Karen

"I love my wife. Really I do."

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

"I dunno. There's just something... missing. Lately she just doesn't seem to want sex. I don't know what her problem is."

"Maybe it's you," she stated matter-of-factly, twirling a strand of brightly dyed red hair around her manicured finger. "When is the last time you made an effort to turn her on?"

"Good question. It's been awhile. Seems like life just gets in the way." I stroked my cock while talking to her, though it wasn't hard, and the thought of sticking it inside this whore was becoming less and less appealing based on our current topic of discussion.

"Honey," she stated, cracking her gum loudly, still twirling the ghastly colored hair around her finger, "Go home. You're lost right now, and if you let me show you the way you'll never forgive yourself. Go where you belong."

The cheap motel bed creaked as I shifted my weight uncomfortably. "Ah... What do I owe you for this – ah – counseling session?" I opened my billfold with shaky hands.

The whore reached in and grabbed a twenty. "This'll do." Another crack of the gum. "Thanks for your business, and have a nice night. And don't forget what I said – try turning her on."

"Um yeah. Thanks. You too." I grabbed my hat off the bed and got out of that dingy room as quickly as I could.

Driving home I nearly had an anxiety attack. My hands shook on the wheel, and my breath came in ragged gasps. I couldn't believe what I had done. I had told my wife I was working late, then stopped on my way home at a motel known for its – well – services. I had almost fucked a dirty prostitute. Good God, what was my life coming to? Thank God that whore had more fucking common sense than I did.

It's not that I was unhappy. I was just bored, listless. Married life seemed to have fallen into this routine that somehow managed to exclude sex. Between kids, pets, and the endless list of things to be done around the house, there was no excitement left in our marriage. My wife, Karen, is wonderful. She takes care of me and every other aspect of our lives. The problem is that – well – she has let herself go, if you know what I mean. Man, she was a fucking bombshell when she was younger. Big fucking tits, long curvy legs, and a mischievous look in her eyes that made a man's dick hard with just a naughty glance from her in his direction. She used to drop to her knees without notice and suck my cock off. She'd bend over anytime, anywhere, and let me ram my dick in her wet pussy. She was insatiable, and I fucking loved it.

She still has the big tits and the sexy legs, but that naughty look in her eyes has been replaced with a look of concern: concern over finances, concern over kids, concern over the fucking dishes in the sink and what's for dinner. The only time that old sexy demeanor that I miss takes over her body is when she's been drinking. She's a fox when she's had a few too many, but by then I've usually had twice as many more, and my dick betrays me and won't get hard. Yeah, it probably hurts her feelings that my dick is limp when she's at her hottest, but I can't do shit about it. Maybe if she would dress up around the house instead of wandering around in a big t-shirt and pajama pants I would get a hard-on more often.

I pulled my truck into the driveway of our modest home with a sick feeling in my stomach. She's gonna know that something's up. She has this way of seeing right through me. I sighed heavily. She's probably standing by the front door, just waiting for me to walk through the doorway so we can talk. God, I get so tired of talking. Why can't I watch TV or even fucking sleep for a few moments? I don't want to talk about my day. I don't care what the kids did today, and I do not want to hear a twenty-minute story about her fight with the cashier at the grocery store.

I stepped heavily through the front door, expecting the onslaught of domestic life to attack me from all angles. Instead I heard... silence. The lights were off, too. Fucking great, I thought to myself, She's probably out shopping. Spending more of the money that I work all fucking day to bring home.

I trudged tiredly into our bedroom, relieved that the house is empty and I can watch some TV without listening to Karen bitch about it. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness in the bedroom, then my mouth fell open when I saw what was taking place on the bed. There was Karen, sprawled out and ass naked, going to town on herself with a bright green dildo. She hadn't noticed me in the doorway yet, so I stood quietly and watched her pleasure herself. Her wavy golden hair was spread out over the pillow like the halo of an angel – a very dirty angel. Her mouth was opened slightly, her tongue licking her pink lips in pleasure. Her body was writhing, as if in tune to some sexually charged tune only she could hear. One hand moved all over her body, tugging at her hard pink nipples, caressing her soft belly, and rubbing her clit. Her other hand rhythmically plunged the green vibrator in and out of her pussy. She masturbated with so much fervor, and I could hear the splish-splashing sound the dildo made as it entered and withdrew from her pussy. The wet noises, coupled with her feminine sighs and moans, created a sexually charged cadence.

Suddenly I was painfully aware of my own arousal; my hard dick was pressing agonizingly against my rough fabric of my work pants. Trying carefully not to alert her to my presence in the doorway, I slowly unzipped my fly. The relief from the excruciating pressure was immediate. I silently moved my hand into my boxers and gripped my rock-hard dick. I stroked it as I watched her pleasure herself. My desire grew, and my stroking became more and more forceful until I was beating myself hard and fast. A groan escaped from my lips before I could contain it, and, with a startled expression on her face, Karen made eye contact with me.

"I... uh... I... just..." I stammered, trying to explain my presence in the midst of her dirty little session.

Karen just smiled seductively, and my cock got even harder from the look in her eyes – that same naughty look that used to give boys stiffies and wet dreams. She withdrew the green dildo from her hot, wet pussy, and slowly brought it to her lips. She licked the tip of the dildo, then swirled her pink tongue around it, tasting her pussy juices. Smiling at me knowingly, she tossed the dildo aside and dipped her fingers into her pussy. She twirled her fingers around, entering in and out in a slow, seductive rhythm, all the while staring deep into my soul with her mischievous blue eyes.

In that instant I lost all self control. I have never undressed as quickly as I did on my way from the doorway to the bed. My cock needed her now. I reached the bed, and without even thinking I straddled her chest and stuffed my dick in her pretty pink mouth. Her blue eyes widened in surprise, then her eyelids drooped down in pleasure as she began to take my cock in and out of her warm mouth. The suction in her mouth caused me pleasure and pain at the same time. Her long tongue swirled around the engorged head of my dick, and her teeth nipped gently at my shaft. She took me to the breaking point, her wet mouth, lips, and tongue milking my dick like she was starving for my semen. I was about to explode in her mouth when she stopped suddenly.

"Don't stop," I gasped raggedly. "Put your fucking mouth back on me now."

"No, no," she whispered teasingly. "It's not time."

"Fine, then," I whispered harshly. I grabbed her hips and roughly pushed her big thighs open, ready to bury my cock in that wet pussy. "I'll just have to fill your pussy up." I was ravenous, and desperately needed to blow my load.

But Karen did something I did not expect. She firmly, but gently, pushed me off of her. She rolled on her soft stomach and reached for something on the bedside table. I was shocked when I realized what she had in her hand – anal beads. My wife has never cared for anal stimulation – at least not as far as I knew. Like a pro, she reached behind her and inserted the beads into her ass. Then she slowly withdrew them, one at a time. My dick grew harder and more desperate for release with each bead that popped out of her tight asshole. Finally the last bead popped free. Karen looked at me over her bare shoulder with a look in her eyes that said, Want a turn?

Without further invitation I straddled her white, naked ass and slowly pressed my dick in, not wanting to hurt her. She arched her back, reached her hands behind, grabbed my ass, and pulled my cock all the way inside her tight asshole. The pleasure was immense. I began moving in and out, in and out, and she whispered, "Faster!" I was happy to oblige, and soon I was pounding her ass with my rock-hard dick. My mind lost control of my hands, and I suddenly realized that I was slapping her big ass repeatedly, pulling on her golden hair – her dirty halo – and digging my fingers roughly into her supple ass cheeks.

Suddenly aware that I must be causing her pain, I withdrew my cock from her little asshole. "Oh God, I... I'm sorry..." I started to say, but before I could finish my apology she had rolled me over onto my back. She stood up and straddled me on our bed, then slowly lowered herself so that my dick slid without hesitation back into her tight ass. The insides felt like velvet, hot and smooth and milking my cock. She used the muscles in her thighs to move up and down, up and down my long shaft. She took me back to the breaking point, and just as I began to explode she moved down the bed and firmly placed her warm pink mouth around my huge cock. She fondled my balls and dipped her smooth-skinned fingers into my anus while she sucked every last drop of semen out of the tip of my cock. After she swallowed my load, she looked up at me, that wonderful look still glowing in her eyes. A little drop of semen escaped from the corner of her mouth, and she licked it away with her long pink tongue. Another small drop escaped from the tip of my penis, and she ducked her head to lick that away too, her golden hair spilling over my belly and soaking up my sweat.

As I lay there, utterly spent and pondering what the hell had gotten into my wife, she stood up, threw her wet hair back, and matter-of-factly said, "Now, what shall I cook for dinner?"