The Planted Seed Pt. 01

"Penny for your thoughts, Susie," my sweet husband inquired, the side of his face resting against my wild, unruly, untrimmed pubis. I don't know how long we had been laying there. Basking in my post orgasmic afterglow I had been daydreaming about a much earlier time in our marriage.

I ran my hand over his now bald head remembering when it had been covered with long, thick almost golden blond hair. We were old now or as he described it seasoned.

"Shhh, not now cuck," I answered, not ready to share with him my thoughts. He knew better than to talk without being spoken to first, but I let it slide understanding his restlessness. He hadn't climaxed in weeks and he was dying to be free of the chastity device he had been wearing since his last climax.

When caged his poor penis couldn't get hard, but that didn't stop it from trying to. While the cage physically contained his penis, bit couldn't contain his thoughts. If anything it made them frustratingly stronger. His pent up desire made him a very attentive lover. He tended to my garden quite well giving me wonderful orgasms forty years into our marriage. I considered myself quite lucky. My health was good. I exercised every day, still played tennis and golf. My breasts hung lower, but they still drew plenty of admiring glances and my ass was plumper, but still quite firm. Best of all I still craved sex and even after menopause had no problems getting wet.

The only things menopause changed were I could no longer get pregnant and I was no longer a size queen. My vagina had gotten smaller and while I no longer craved to,be fucked by really big cocks I still needed a bigger cock than what my husband Donny's four inches could give me.

Chastity, cuckoldry, discipline, my natural bossiness which some called bitchiness and his natural submissiveness worked for us. Denied release, Donny had become quite pliable.

I smiled at him, "I have a cure for your restlessness cuck. How about another licking? The last orgasm was quite nice, but it happened too fast." I laughed before continuing, "Your mouth is just too damn good."

I put my hand on the top of his head and pressed signaling him to get to work to use his tongue on my wet furrow. I close my eyes him thinking to myself he really is quite talented with his tongue. Soft, wet, slow, and long he used his tongue to give my vagina what I can only describe as long, French kisses. So good I thought. At some point those kisses would turn into his tongue being used as a surrogate cock to fuck my pussy. His penis hadn't ventured into the wet, warm, confines of my vagina in a very long time. And while his gardening skills were excellent his seed had not been used to produce my harvest, five healthy, productive, successful, happy children who were now adults with families of their own.

Did they suspect? Yes. Did we discuss it? No. They had seen other men come and go, watched me leave on a date while their dad stayed behind to care for them. Donny's comfort with me having male friends assuaged whatever anxieties they had. He and I presented ourselves as a very loving, affectionate, happy couple in front of our children, our families, and our friends. It was easy because it was no act. As for him being the fawning husband he treated our kids the same way. I didn't need to boss him around in front of them because he did without asking. He demonstrated to them what a husband should do. Our sons are not submissive types, but they emulate his behavior in their conduct with their wives and our daughters married men who were very much like their dad.

I closed my eyes and my mind drifted to thoughts of an earlier time.

Donny and I dated for several before marrying. Even back then he had been a very considerate man. He deferred to me on almost everything. We were both sexually inexperienced. We took our physical relationship very slowly. He was very patient with me to the point where I became the aggressor. I even asked him why thinking he might not have been as attracted to me as I was to him. He said it was just the opposite. He just didn't want to be seen as interested in only one thing. I assured him I knew he wasn't just after sex. He took our conversation to heart and became more active at initiating sex. Our sex prior to marriage didn't involve much intercourse. We discovered he liked to pleasure me with his mouth and I really liked to have his mouth down there, his tongue working its magic on me.

I also discovered while I had told him I wanted him to be more aggressive at initiating physical intimacy I actually became more aroused when I initiated it. I hadn't been around any other penises than his so his four inches seemed plenty big. I remembered how much it hurt the first time. It wasn't until after we married Donny learned to use his fingers while we fucked. He never lasted very long, but long enough for me to orgasm as he rubbed my clitoris. Intercourse almost always followed cunnilingus. It was like his reward for, giving me the big O with his mouth was for my pussy to return the favor by letting him fuck me.

I gave him plenty of blow jobs. His penis was perfect for sucking and deep throating. I wasn't wild about the taste of cum, but there were times I dutifully swallowed. I would make a big deal about the metallic, bitter taste of his cum and how it made me feel sticky. I wasn't telling him I wouldn't swallow, but he interpreted it that way. He started to remind me whenever he was about to climax. I would quit sucking him and use my hand to finish him off.

He had never been a possessive boyfriend, but there were a few times I had made him jealous. He was more wounded than angry. We never broke up over them, but we had some very passionate oral sex when we made up. There was nothing for me to be ashamed of or sorry for because what I did to make him jealous was pretty tame.

I did notice how excited he got when I initiated sex after these instances. I didn't really connect it to anything because I was pretty damn excited too.

We married, moved halfway across the country, to begin our life together. We were both working and looking for a second car. We made friends with a couple who had the same schedule as us. She and I would carpool and Donny and her husband would carpool.

It was the second year of our marriage when Donny began commenting about other men noticing me. He seemed very proud of the fact other men found me very attractive and it boosted my ego to think I had not evolved into some sexless wife. He was noticeably much more aggressive after these conversations. I guess because I was receptive to his initial comments he decided I'd be receptive to more graphic comments.

I was to a point, but they also bothered me. I even went so far as to ask him if that's how he saw me as some slut. He assured me he didn't, but admitted he found the idea of me having sex with other men exciting. He also swore it was just pillow talk, that he never wanted it to really happen, that it would kill him.

His mixed signals confused me. I was not interested in other men, but I wondered if the reason he was making all these comments was because he was interested in other women. I confronted him one night when I thought he was a little too chummy with a neighbor of ours. He swore it was nothing. What he did with her wouldn't have normally made me jealous, but because of all his comments I was paranoid. I rather pointedly told him I wasn't about to open our marriage to other women, that his behavior had offended me and I wouldn't tolerate it, and asked him to be honest. Was he looking for an excuse to cheat?

It wasn't like him to push my buttons. My Mexican roots got the best of me. I was what my dad described as hopping mad. Donny spoke no Spanish, but I let him have it in both English and Spanish. I then did something completely out of character. I slapped him hard across the face. I can still hear the smack of my open palm across his cheek immediately followed by dead silence.

He stood there, beer on his breath, his eyes a bit bloodshot, and looked at me in disbelief. We had even talked about spousal abuse before we married and how it was a dealbreaker. I swore to him and he agreed the first time it happened would be the last. Never in a million years would I have foreseen me being the a user.

Donny was drunk. He had already put on his pajamas and I was wearing a nightgown. I stared at him wondering if he was going to hit me or walk out. Adrenaline coursed through my body. My heart was pounding, my armpits drenched, my face red, but something else was going on. My nipples had gone from soft to hard and my crotch was on fire.

Donny didn't hit me or walk away. He instead wrapped his arms around me and with tears streaming down his face said he was sorry. I hugged him back. I didn't apologize. We exchanged a long kiss. I felt his erection against my pubis. I thought he's hard and I'm incredibly turned on. Was this what they meant by makeup sex? It wasn't our first quarrel, but it was the first time we had both been so immediately aroused after a fight. Normally we put distance between each other and gave ourselves time to cool down.

When we broke off from our kiss, I didn't apologize. I instead said as I hugged him what every abuser says. I assigned blame to him and told him, "Don't make me do this again."

He was still crying and promised he wouldn't.

I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I had grabbed a hold of his shoulders and pushed him to kneel. No sooner was he on his knees that my hands were on the back of his head. I never wore panties when I was in bed. I opened my legs and damned if he didn't start licking me mumbling apology alter apology. I quickly had a very strong orgasm.

He seemed incredibly fragile and remorseful still on his knees afterwards.

I said, "Donny, let's get in bed."

He sniffled okay. I felt just the opposite of him. We got in bed and snuggled. He sounded more sober as he again apologized. I put two fingers against his lips and said, "Shhh. You're forgiven. Just don't it again."

Call it intuition but I knew in my heart of hearts he would accept whatever discipline I meted out. It was incredibly empowering to have all that power over another human being, no less my husband, i felt incredibly calm and in control.

I asked, "Let me see your face." I admired my handiwork. He was going to have a bruise. He wasn't going to call the police. I touched it ever so gently. He jerked away out of fear. I told him to go get a bag of frozen vegetables. He scurried to the kitchen and returned a minute later.

He laid on his back, the bag pressed against his face. I refused to feel bad reminding him and I both he had brought this on himself. He said he knew he had.

I was in no mood for a makeup fuck, but I did feel like making him feel good. His penis was swollen. I reached through the fly of his pajamas and fished it out.

On his back with me caressing his penis I asked him why he did it. Was he trying to embarrass me? Was he attracted to her? Was he trying to make me jealous? He really didn't have an answer. He was just having fun. She was equally drunk which was no excuse for them dancing so close. I told him what he had done was very disrespectful.

"I would never share you Donny. The thought of you with another woman doesn't turn me on in the slightest. The only woman I want you dancing close with is me, your wife."

As he swore to respect and love me my fingers coaxed out of him a toe curler of an orgasm. He shot four long streams of ejaculate all over his belly. I then told him, "Go get a washcloth and clean yourself up."

I rolled over on my side and was nearly asleep when he climbed back into bed and attempted to snuggle with me. He tried to spoon me. I told him, "Donny, you're forgiven, but sleep on your side of the bed tonight."

I quickly fell asleep, had a great sleep, while it took him forever to fall asleep and he had a restless sleep. He told me afterwards he worried I was going to divorce him over his stupid behavior.

I wasn't about to look weak or vulnerable so when he professed worrying about me leaving him I lied to him and confidently said, "I seriously thought about it. In fact, I haven't ruled it out. What you did I consider cheating."

Of course I knew it wasn't even close to cheating and I was blowing it well out of proportion, but he needed to believe just the opposite.

Slapping him had forever altered the dynamics of our marriage putting me completely in charge. I had no idea that deep down he was so vulnerable. I put this knowledge to good use.

Overnight I became this incredibly pampered wife. To make up for his indiscretion he did everything around the house, cooking, cleaning, washing, and ironing. He even taught himself how to sew. He went so far as to ask if he could run my bath. He would wash my hair before soaping down and washing the rest of me. Afterwards he would towel me dry. I would thank him, but I wouldn't praise him. The way I saw it he owed me.

It transferred to our sex life. He became an even more attentive lover. Never had I been licked so well. I still wasn't ready to resume intercourse or blowjobs. I did masturbate him to orgasm reminding him as I did why he was coming all over his stomach instead of inside me. He didn't sound distressed, but excited. It was intoxicating to know he was scared of losing me. It was like having an endless supply of get out of jail cards.

I figured I had punished him enough and resumed having intercourse with him, something I dearly missed when he screwed up. His faux pas didn't involve a real flesh and blood woman, but pornography. I stumbled across a magazine full of pictures of naked women being fucked by men with really big cocks. The magazine was dedicated to cheating wives. There were stories to go along with the photos describing the husbands' reactions to their wives' infidelities. I was too upset to really focus on the subject matter.

I left the house and took a long walk to cool off. When I came home he was in the kitchen cooking dinner. He had poured each of us a glass of wine. He was in such a great mood I decided to wait until after dinner to confront him. I was a bit quiet which I could tell made him nervous. He reacted by being even more attentive even offering to give me a foot rub. It was the first time he rubbed my feet, but it wouldn't be the last.

As he massaged my feet I commented on how pampered I felt and reminded him it all started with that slap.

"Donny, I think slapping you was the smartest thing I ever did in our marriage. It turned you into a different man."

He looked at me and said what every woman loves to hear and can't hear often enough, "Susie, you're right. Alcohol was no excuse for my behavior. I should have known better. It was an act of bad judgment. I'm sorry. You were justified in being mad."

I smiled, liking very much where this was going, "Are you saying you deserved me to slap you?"

He nodded in the affirmative and answered yes.

"I'm glad we agree on this. Thanks for the foot rub. My feet feel wonderful. I have something I want to discuss with you. I found a pornographic magazine in your desk drawer. Care to explain why you are looking at other women?"

He had a deer in the headlights look and after saying he was sorry explained he had bought it, , but hadn't looked at in a long time.

I answered, "I guess I'm relieved it's not a new purchase, but I'm upset it's in my house and you were even looking at it. Is this what gave you the idea of wanting me to have sex with other men?"

He answered, "I had those thoughts long before I got the magazine. The magazine just made me more excited. Knowing how you felt I figured I would look at the magazine and keep my fantasies to myself."

He sat there, the magazine in his hand, stealing glances at it and at me.

"Donny, i'm glad you didn't try and lie your way out of this, but there have to be consequences for bad behavior. Go in the bedroom, take off your clothes, grab a belt, and come back here."

He did as instructed. As I waited for his return my breasts felt so full and my nipples so hard. My pussy was on fire. He returned, his penis hard and dripping precum. I was about to tell him to take the belt back and get dressed, that disciplining him wasn't supposed to be a reward, but punishment when I had an epiphany.

His little penis, involuntarily jerking, dripping precum, was even more of an ace card than threatening to leave him. He wanted to feel my wrath as much or even more than I wanted to inflict my wrath upon him.

He handed me the belt. I got up, gave his penis a rather contemptuous look, told him to stand by the kitchen table and to lean over until the upper half of his body was resting on the table. His bottom nice and stretched, I doubled the belt in my hand and for the first time in my life gave my husband a spanking. I started out soft, but finished up hard.

Three quarters of the way through I took a quick break. His bottom down to the back of his knees was a deep red. He didn't cry out, but he sure cried. As I heated up his bottom I remonstrated him for his behavior telling him no more porn ever, that if he wanted to look at naked people he had better stick to National Geographic or better yet to look at me, his wife. I asked him half a dozen times if I had a nice body, if it was the sexiest he had ever seen, if it was the kind of body other men would want to see pictures of, and if he understood why looking at those magazines was so disrespectful when he had a real flesh and blood woman he could ask.

I hurriedly stripped before resuming my assault telling him, "Look at me. If you want to look at dirty pictures then get a camera and take them of me."

My arms tired I stopped spanking him, "Get on your knees." I grabbed the belt and looped it around his neck walking us backwards to the couch.

I needed the fire between my legs put out. My juices were dripping down my thighs. My breasts felt like one good squeeze and I would orgasm. I sat down, legs open wide and said, "Lick".

He spurted all over the floor as he ate me to a very powerful orgasm.

Afterwards I said, "Fuck, that was good. Now eat me again. Only this time go slow."

He did exactly as instructed. While he tenderly pleasured my wet, pink flesh with his tongue I calmly told him in a soothing tone how good he was making me feel, how he deserved the spanking for being bad, how I hoped he learned from his mistake and made him promise not to do it again. I told him I was serious about my offer. I was no prude. If he wanted to take photos of me or even draw me I was game. All he had to do was ask.

I replayed that night in my head. Some might say what happened that night wasn't lovemaking, but sex. I however disagreed. Donny had lovingly made love to me with his mouth. I had spanked him because I loved him, to make him a better husband, because he was worth investing in. My world did feel turned upside down. Lovemaking was supposed to be gentle, in the bedroom, romantic, candles burning, lots of I love yous, and ultimately lead to conception.

Our lovemaking wasn't gentle, didn't involve intercourse, and was downright painful for one partner. i still found it somewhat unbelievable that after having his bottom severely spanked he had become aroused and climaxed without ever touching it. If I hadn't witnessed it with my own eyes I would have never believed it was even possible.

Donny's tongue was just too talented to let my daydreaming continue. I ground my pussy against his face. His mouth busy, I did all the talking.

I groaned, "So good, so damn good, don't you dare stop. Oh fuck oh fuck Donny, I'm cumming."

Afterwards we spooned, his cage pressed against my buttocks, his right arm draped over my torso. He told me he loved me and thanked me for allowing him to eat me. I answered back telling him, "You're welcome and I love you too."