Author's Note: I rarely write about things from the male POV. It is very difficult for me to write this way. But after a conversation I have been having with someone, I thought I might give it a try in this new genre. Based on feedback, if any, I can either continue the storyline or move back into what I do best. with that, The Author hopes you enjoy the tale, noting that, in all conversations between men and women, something gets lost in translation.
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I couldn’t believe how hot that was, my wife was talking dirty to me while we were making love. It got us both so worked up that we both climaxed together and had I not been wearing a condom, I very likely might have gotten her pregnant. I lay atop her, smiling a goofy smile as we kissed, lovingly, while we exchanged caresses. I could see it in her eyes, the look of sated lust, but more. A deep, soul-embracing love. The same love I had for her; I was sure. My cock was softening as it was finished draining into her, my semen dutifully contained, or so I hoped. We were getting ready to start making a baby in about six months, but her doctor took her off birth control recently, necessitating my needing to use a rubber until we were ready. It was a conservative approach, but at the same time, it also would give us the best chances for conception when the time came. We were just waiting to see when we could move into a bigger house so we could begin our ******, and the only thing holding us back was interest rates. They were currently sky-high. Thank you, idiots in Washington.
I rolled from her, onto my back, and she snuggled into my armpit, her soft voice letting out a small, kitten-like purr. It was what she did when she was very happy, relaxed, and content.
“Oh, wow, that was intense, Wen. Where did that come from?”
‘Wen’ was short for Wendy, my wife’s name.
“What? You mean my fantasies?” my wife countered.
“Yeah. You know, I wasn’t even sure you have fantasies. I don’t get to hear much of them. You keep them more secret than what’s in Fort Knox!”
She giggled softly.
“My Love,” she began “I have them. But some may not be to your liking. I worry about your ego. I mean, men are so fragile!”
Her small burst of laughter made me blush. She wasn’t wrong. My ego was just as fragile as the next guy’s, and the few times she had openly remarked about a guy she found particularly attractive did give me pangs of jealousy. But when we got home, I would make up for it by trying to pound her through the bedframe. The results for her were decidedly mixed but for me? Yeah, I got mine.
“So, what other fantasies do you have?”
“Well…” she began by softly trailing a perfectly manicured nail along my chest and through my chest hairs. I didn’t have a forest there, but it wasn’t smooth, either.
“I’ve liked to be the damsel in distress. You know, like in the movies? Like the lady in King Kong? Helpless to the villain’s evil plans?”
“You mean you like to be tied up? Hell, I can do that!”
She snorted and poked my chest, giving me a small ‘Ow’.
“No, Silly. I mean, like truly helpless, where you aren’t around. Where I don’t know who will rescue me, or even if I will be rescued in time.”
“You mean like in the old movies where the heroine is tied to the railroad tracks? Sweetheart, that is more than just dangerous, that is suicidal!”
She smacked my chest.
“Wow, you can be so thick at times. I just mean it is like I am in some form of danger. But that can be in many forms. I dunno, it is hard to describe. Like if there is a troublemaker in our midst and I can’t get help. Like the perils of Pauline kind of stuff, or suffering that fate worse than death.”
I shook my head. “You do like a wild ride, don’t you?”
“Well, yah! I married you, did I?”
That got a kiss. A deep, long, passionate, loving kiss. The kind where we both moaned softly. The kind that made us both come up for air. The kind that left both our hearts racing.
Snuggled back into place, she tapped my chest again, softly.
“Honey? That reminds me. I need some advice on something.”
I shifted my head to try and see her nestled in on me, but it was an empty gesture, my neck wasn’t a telescope.
“Ok, so what’s up?”
Her fingernail continued to draw along my chest. It felt good, every time.
“We have this guy at work, he’s been with us almost a year now, and he just got promoted. He’s my opposite but on the sales side.”
I understood this. My wife worked in a technical field. She was a mechanical engineer, with a Master’s degree. Me? I was in middle management at another company.
“Go on.” I encouraged her.
“Well, ever since he has been with us, he’s been a bit of an ass. He keeps bothering us girls every time he is in the office. It’s not just like he wants us to recognize him for being who he is, but he also thinks he is God’s gift to women.”
“Is he bothering you?”
It was something I could understand. I knew I had married up in the looks department. My wife was five-foot-six in her bare feet and had great curves. Her butt was part of her weekly workout routine, and her chest? Well, let’s just say I am a boob-man, and I love her D-cups. All told I would guess her figure measured at a 34D-28-36. Add in her long auburn hair, and yeah, she was a stunner. In particular, my stunner.
“A bit. I mean, sometimes he just won’t leave, despite my ignoring him, or trying to. I know he keeps trying to look down my top, or up my skirt.”
I pursed my lips for a moment. I had to figure out the right delay to pause, so I could give it serious consideration. Too short, and she would think I was dismissing her claims. Too long, and she would think I wasn’t paying attention.
“Have you tried HR?”
“No. I mean, even if I did, all he would do is have to take the mandatory hour class and he’d be right back to annoying us.”
At least I had timed the pause right.
“So, what do you think you want to do, then?”
“Honestly? I want to crush his ego. Hard.” She growled.
Her growls sounded more like an angry kitten, and I loved to listen to them. I would sometimes intentionally piss her off, just so I could hear them.
“Alright, this oughta’ be interesting. How do you plan on doing that?”
“Well, Alexa went on a date with him, and they went to a carnival. There, they went to play games, and when it came to the softball toss and the basketball shooting thing, she kicked his black butt. She said he kept bragging about how good he was, he and didn’t even come close to hitting anything!” She ended with a giggle.
“So?”
“So, Alexa played softball and basketball in high school and went to college on a softball scholarship. She is lethal at these games. She is popular at the company picnics when it comes to game time. Anyway, when they went to try that shooting gun thing, where did you hit targets and stuff? She outdid him again. He didn’t know she was a Marine. She says he hasn’t bothered her since.”
That made her giggle, and I laughed out loud at that one. Imagine some smooth-talker who had never even played at recess trying to out-shoot a Marine? I could understand how it crushed his ego. It had to be like playing ‘Whack-a-mole’ with a sledgehammer.
“Ok, Sweetheart, I hate to burst your bubble here, but you aren’t exactly a star athlete. I was the one playing tight end while you were cheerleading. Wait, his black butt? He’s a black guy?”
She giggled at my belated revelation. Maybe she had a point about my not listening completely.
“Yeah, he is. And not just a little black, he’s very dark-skinned. Shaves his head, and even wears his shirts unbuttoned a little so he can show off his chest hair. So, yeah, he’s black. So what? And yes, I know. It’s your tight end that made me want to date you!”
I chuckled as she giggled some more. I also had to let the race thing go. If she didn’t care, neither did I. I had some very capable black people working for me and was grooming a young black woman for promotion. She had the potential to go far in my company.
“OK, so what’s your plan? How are you going to crush his ego so badly? Put him under a faulty bridge you design?”
“Oh, of course not, Silly. I want to let him take me out on a date!”
“Excuse me, Love of my Life? You want to try that one again?”
“I… want… to… let… him… take… me... out… on… a… date.” She made sure her words were enunciated.
“Okay, you are going to have to explain this one to me like I am five. So far, the answer is not only no, but Hell no!”
“Here me out. It’s pretty simple. I don’t even like the guy. Remember how I brushed off that guy you used to work with last Christmas? I can do that again, pretty easily. So, I want to do it. I want to set his ego up so high that when it gets crushed, it’ll make him lose his will to live. I’m going to dress up prettily for him, make all of the efforts to be arm candy, and then leave him high, dry, and so embarrassed that a blind man could see him blushing.”
I grunted. “Wow. You are motivated to hurt him, aren’t you?”
“Well, yah! I want to not only get him out of my office, but everyone else’s too. I’d rather push him off our floor, and let somebody else deal with him.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take this to HR?”
“Honey, it has already been tried. He did the training and behaved for less than a week. Truth is, I think he just can’t help it. That arrogance isn’t an act, it is who he is, and the only way to fix it is to crush it.”
She smashed her open palms together and rotated them like she might squash a bug. I had to give her credit, her confidence in this was rather inspiring. She had a plan, even if I didn’t like it. She was also motivated, and she had the will to do it.
“Alright. I’ll say yes. But if it goes wrong, you go straight to your HR, got it?”
“Yes, Honey, alright. Deal.”
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A couple of nights later, she came home from work, all smiles.
“Had a good day, did you?”
“Ohhh yeah. Operation Bug on a Windshield is underway!”
“So when is it?”
“This Friday night. I’m gonna take comp-time and get ready for him, and then break his spirit.”
“I hope you are meeting him somewhere. I sure as Hell am not going to play some sort of wimp husband in this little charade of yours if you’re being picked up here.”
“Not at all, Honey.” She kissed my cheek.
“He doesn’t have the comp-time I do, so he has to work. I’m going to meet him at the office, and we’ll go from there.”
“Where is he taking you?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. Dinner for sure, and then a show, I think?” She shrugged.
“You better be sending me texts to keep me posted.” It was my time to growl, and mine wasn’t nearly as pleasant as hers.
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Fridays are our hybrid work days, so I stayed home as well. True to her word, on Friday she slept in, and then went to her hair stylist and got a mani-pedi as well. Her nails looked amazing, and I wanted a back scratch from them! I also wanted to feel her scratching my back while I was on top of her, but she kept pushing me away.
“Down, boy. Down! You’ll get your turn later.”
We had a late lunch and chatted, me more nervously than her, and she looked at the clock.
“Time to get ready for my date!”
She was rubbing it in, as my voice let out a big groan of disappointment. In truth, it was more than a little tinged with jealousy. I was starting to get more than a little uncomfortable with her plan.
She giggled as she shut the door to the bathroom and locked it. She knew my other favorite tactic. Attack when she was cornered in the shower! Oh, well.
When she came out, she looked sparkling clean and smelled delicious. I also noticed she had trimmed her pubic hair, to give her a flat landing strip that pointed to her clit.
“Ummm, you are going to crush his ego, right?” my voice asked with uncertainty.
“Yes, Robby, don’t worry. I did this for you in case you get lost later.”
Again, came her giggling as she went to apply her makeup. Smokey eyes, a darker blush, and the brightest red lipstick I had ever seen. They drew attention to needing to be kissed!
So, I sat on the bed and watched her getting ready. She took great pains to get it all right. I doubt she went into this much trouble on our wedding day. She dug into her lingerie drawer and poked about, pulling out different pairs of panty and garter sets, then searching for the right color stockings. She was doing this right. I just wished it was for me. I was starting to get jealous again. When I tried to approach her from behind, since she was still naked, I was granted a small treat when she delved her hand into my shorts and grasped my cock and balls. At first, I thought I was going to get a gift of release until she gave me a warning squeeze. That made me throw up my hands in concession. She had won.
So, sitting back down on the corner of the bed, I watched her as she softly hummed to herself, while I took in the glory that was my wife. I loved her so very much, the thought of all this was beginning to hurt. She drew on sheer white stockings, and then her lacey white garter belt and satin thong. It took me a moment to realize that they were what she wore under her wedding dress when she walked down the aisle to me. The same wedding lingerie that I so delicately removed with my teeth in the honeymoon suite, and the same lingerie she was stuck with when her suitcase was lost on our honeymoon.
Next, she went to her side of the closet and bent at the waist to look for shoes. Black sets were tossed aside, her blood-red ‘fuck-me’ stilettos were set carefully nearby, and her white strappy sandals were evaluated before being tossed with the black ones. Then she climbed to her tiptoes to reach the shelf and pulled out the box. The box that held her pure white patent leather stilettos. The very same heels she wore to our wedding. Pulling them out, she looked them over and then nodded. She had made her selection. Then it came time for the dress.
She pulled out the new dress I bought her for our next anniversary, which was soon. Blood red, with a halter top and a short circle skirt, the dress screamed sex appeal. She shook her head and put it back. Thank goodness! Then came her long black satin gown, slit to her hip. It got an instant rejection. More relief. Some sundresses were instantly rejected, a few dresses she usually wore to work were similarly put back, and then she delved deeper into the closet, and pulled it out. It was the white satin dress she wore at our wedding rehearsal, and on the day after our wedding. She also wore it a few more times on our honeymoon, due to her missing suitcase.
The dress had a very 1950s flair to it, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a built-in bra. The waist was slimming, and the skirt had a high-waisted circle skirt, hemmed above her knees. It was a very pretty, feminine, and to me, extremely sexy dress, especially when we reached our hotel on our honeymoon. We had just exited the taxi and the on-shore breeze blew her skirt up, and let everyone see her lingerie, the same set I was looking at the minute before. She squealed, but I found it arousing as hell, and I could not wait to throw her onto the bed and ravish her. Just like I wanted to do now, but she wouldn’t let me. I had to sigh at the memory.
“Relax, Honey, you’ll get your just rewards with me when I get back. Remember, this is me getting ready for war, not for play. Play is what I get when I get back, too!”
She gave me that killer smile that melted my heart, and I could see it in her eyes. She meant it. So shortly later, with some touching up of her makeup, packing her white satin clutch to match her outfit, and the world’s briefest, softest, barely-felt kiss, she dashed out, and the last I saw her before her ‘date’ was her driving down the street.
The first few hours were bearable. She texted me that they had left for dinner, in his car, and she even managed to sneak a quick photo of him. I was not comfortable with what I saw. He was, indeed, handsome, tall, well-dressed, and looked like a solidly built man. I imagined he could have any woman he wanted, or anything, for that matter. I was having doubts now, that my wife could resist his charming appearance. Even if he was an arrogant asshole.
I made a quick dinner of microwaved leftovers and watched the baseball game, only half-concentrating on it. The rest of my brain was becoming filled with worry. I was also getting horny, thinking of how my night was going to end when my wife rushed back to my arms, and into our bed. I was growing so wanting that I debated about jerking off, to allow me some immediate relief, and to build up stamina for later. But I held off. I had a beer, along with a mindless action movie filled with too many stunts and explosions and not nearly enough plot. It took me another beer to tolerate that movie, as well. My phone pinged, with a simple thumbs-up emoji from her. Things were going well. That was around 9 PM. OK, so they were done with dinner or should be, so I imagined she should be deflating his ego about now. Or maybe she had already shredded his manhood and was on her way home? I found a show I liked and had another beer, and the next thing I knew, I heard her car chirp as she locked it with her remote. She was home!
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I had dozed off on the couch, in my t-shirt and pajama bottoms, with three dead soldiers in front of me. As I rose to greet her, the door burst open, and she looked at me.
“Don’t say a fucking word!” she ordered as she stormed right past me and upstairs to our bedroom.
Still coming to full consciousness, I had to glance at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning! What the Hell?
I raced after her, my mind becoming alive with so many questions.
“Wait! You are just now getting home? Why? What happened?”
I heard the shower running as I reached our bedroom. I stopped inside the door, as she was in the middle of taking her dress off, and what I saw stopped me cold.
She looked like she had never gotten ready for the date. Her hair was a mess, tousled and probably tangled, and her makeup looked like she had smeared a sponge over her face, and that was when I first noticed it. The bruising. She had a deep purplish-red mark on her neck, below her ear, and as she turned, I saw another one on the other side, near her clavicle. As she pulled her dress up over her head, I saw the markings on her inner thighs, her crotch, and her breasts. I then belatedly realized she had no panties on, either.
“Wendy, what the Hell happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
Her voice had a different tone, a more sinister snarl. This wasn’t the growl of an angry cute kitten. This was the dark menacing voice of a lioness who was beyond pissed. I tried to press her, but she stepped in the shower and began to peel off her lingerie, washing it out as she then began to clean herself, too. I did notice she spent extra effort on trying to wash off her vaginal area. I had this sense of foreboding. Her plan must’ve gone very badly. Very, very bad.
Not knowing what else to do, I went to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea. She didn’t drink it often, but there were times she would enjoy the comfort it gave her. I was carrying it up the stairs when the shower turned off. She emerged just after I entered, setting the tea on her side of the bed’s nightstand. A towel wrapped around her head, and just folding a towel around her body, she gave me a weak smile and then went for the tea. Wordlessly, she took a sip, and then a second, before daintily setting it down at her vanity as she began her nightly ablutions to go to bed. At the ripe hour of five in the morning.
“Want to talk about it now?”
“Not really.”
“Honey, this isn’t fair to me. I can see something happened. I love you, and I know we can fix whatever it is. So please… just tell me?”
Setting down the towel from her hair, she picked up her brush and began to smooth it out.
“Alright. But first, you have to promise me you won’t yell at me. I didn’t do anything wrong. It should have worked. My plan really should have worked.”
It was then I started to notice her eyes. They were beginning to brim with tears. I took her in my arms and just held her as she began to cry. In her honor, she did try to tell me, but all I heard was a tearful voice as her chest was wracked with sobs, while her face was buried on my shoulder. It took her about fifteen minutes before she could face me.
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I need that again, in human words.” I ended with a genuine smile. Anything to lighten the mood.
She looked at me again, her eyes bloodshot.
“I had him right where I wanted him. Thinking he was going to get lucky. That he was going to get this marvelous piece of ass he lusted for. That was when I texted you the thumbs-up.”
I simply nodded.
“He was being a perfect gentleman so far. Minding his p’s and q’s, and with impeccable manners. I could just as well have been with you, so far. He kept reminding me of you in his gestures. He never was rude or crude at dinner or even while we went dancing.”
“Dancing? I didn’t know you were going dancing.”
“Neither did I.” She grunted. “But on the dance floor, he was being suave. A gentleman, to be sure, but I began to get the hints of his wants. The lingering touching, the gyrations that grew in intensity, and the fact he loved to spin me. I swear my skirt spent more time at my waist than it did at my knees.”
She shook her head.
“That is when I felt the booze begin to kick in. I know he didn’t ply me with a bunch of alcohol, as I only had three, but he must’ve had them made extra stiff or something. I mean, I remember everything, but I just became more relaxed with him. I was feeling good with him. That was when he asked me if I wanted to leave.”
She shook her head as I stood there, spellbound, though I felt the stirrings of an erection growing in my pajamas. It was like listening to a damsel in distress story, knowing what was coming and I could do nothing about it. Like my wife was living out her deepest and most intimate secret. Her fantasy was coming to life, and I was powerless to rescue her.
“For some reason, I said yes. I still don’t know why. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t. But I did.”
“And?”
“And so back in his car, he was driving, and he started to feel me up. At first, it was just an accidental brush against my thigh, and then more. I tried to keep removing it, but it was like he was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. So, I gave up and let him feel my thigh and the satin of my dress. He kept sliding his hand up and down, my dress was sliding smoothly on my stockings, and I have to admit, it felt good. Oddly, though, I had no clue where we were going, and I didn’t think it was important to know. I remember we pulled into a parking structure and stopped on the top level. He was a gentleman as he opened the car door for me, and as I stepped out, the windy breeze caught my dress again. It had been happening most of the night, only this time I wasn’t ready for it, and he got a good look at everything. As I was trying to put my skirt back under control, that was when he did it.”
“He did what?” My heart was racing at this point, as was my boner.
“He kissed me. Long, hard, and deep. His tongue was in my mouth as I had squealed about my dress, and he was then all hands and lips. He was licking my tongue, my gums, my teeth, everything. It was like a surprise attack, and I didn’t see it coming. To be honest, he is a damn good kisser.” She paused.
“But that didn’t mean I was going to sleep with him!” she added. “I recovered myself and reached back to try and slap him. I was aiming for the side of his face, just above his jaw, and I was going to remove his head from his neck. That I show hard I wanted to hit him.”
She pursed her lips and then shook her head, her voice now softly subdued.
“That is when it happened.”
“Honey, what happened? Tell me?” I was growing alarmed.
“That was when he ***** me.”
“What?” It was now my turn to growl, like an angry lion. “Where the fuck can I find him?”
Shaking her head, she tried to dissuade me.
“Robby... look, I love you… but please... don’t even try to take some sort of revenge. I know you were an all-star in high school and were in excellent shape, but that was almost ten years ago. Believe me, I love you just the way you are, but physically, you are no match for him. Believe me, I know.”
“You saw him naked?”
She just nodded.
“But not at first. Right there on the trunk of his car, he was manhandling me like I was nothing. He has an easy six inches on me, and that is with my heels. He had me on the deck lid and was reaching under my dress, pulling at my panties as I was trying to fight my dress, and him. I resorted to begging him to stop, but he never hesitated. In the end, he had, or actually, still has, my panties.”
At the moment, I had no idea what to do. I had a warrior’s heart, with a rookie’s mind, and a raging hard-on to get rid of.
“He then hefted me over his shoulder and simply carried me to his place, like I didn’t even matter!”
One thing I loved was her great ability to be descriptive. I could imagine just about anything she explained to me easily. Only right now, I was hating the fact she had such excellent communication skills.
“I cried out for help, but I don’t think anyone either had the time to help me or cared to. Before I knew it, was in his apartment, bouncing on his bed. That was when I knew I was sunk. I was wearing a satin dress, on a satin comforter, with satin bedding. Plus, the only movement I could make was with my heels, and I kept getting a heel caught in my skirt. As I tried to escape, I couldn’t get anywhere, while he was kicking off his shoes and then diving under my dress. I tried to push him away, but he was covered by the skirt and so I had to try and endure him. I kept begging him to stop, even thrashing my legs, but he just adjusted himself to cradle my thighs with his shoulders, bending me so my vagina was at his lips. I felt his finger slide inside me, and between his massaging my G-spot and teasing my clit with his tongue, he made me climax, twice!”
Okay, so now I knew I wasn’t going to go kill this guy right now. I was too riveted to the spot by my wife’s words. I had to adjust my penis and came away with a wet spot on my underwear. I was leaking pre-cum from her travails.
“And?”
“And that was when he stripped naked, and I got to look at him all. And I do mean all, Honey, this is why I don’t want you to go after him. He’s bigger than you in every way.”
“What do you mean, ‘every way’?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it.
“Robby, my Love, he is taller than you and works out. He isn’t a body-builder type, but he is well-muscled. I could see his abs, and he had a six-pack. You lost yours when we graduated high school.”
“That’s because you are a fantastic cook and started feeding me.”
It was a long-running joke between us. It did make her smile a little.
“Thank you, Honey, but I know you are hungry for more than food right now. So please let me finish?”
I simply nodded.
“Alright, so as I lay there, trying to regain my senses, he simply climbed on top of me, lifted my arms over my head, and used his tie to bind my wrists to his headboard. After he had me helpless, he then began to slap my lips with his cock. He told me to suck it, but by then, I had recovered enough and refused. He had kissed me by surprise, but that was the last time he was going to get into my mouth! So, that is when he lifted the skirt. He didn’t try and take my clothes off, no show of decorum or propriety. He was just a predator, and he was taking what he could. He already had my panties, and I know between the orgasms and everything, I was certainly wet enough for him. He knelt between my thighs and kept them apart, while he exercised his cock, waving it at me to see it. He told me that I was going to get fucked by the biggest cock I had ever seen.”
She started blushing.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but he was right. He is bigger than you in the sex department, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way you make love to me, but he has you beat by a few inches, and he sure knows how to use it.”
She hesitated, looking up at me, her gaze hoping for some form of reassurance, or even acceptance of what happened. I realized I couldn’t be mad at her for all this. I could, and would, be pissed as Hell at the situation, and at this guy, whom I belatedly realized I didn’t even have a name for, other than arrogant black ******. But I couldn’t be mad at her.
“Alright… go on.”
“So, he got all hard, and then he grabbed my ankles and stuck them on his shoulders, while he then began to put his cock inside me. He didn’t just ram it in, thank heavens, but he took the time to make me feel him. He used his cock to slide my labia open and tease my clit by slapping it with his cock some more, and as I started to be defeated, he then lined up and pushed into me. I writhed under him, crying out because it hurt, at first, but he took some pity on me and made sure I was feeling him until he gained access to my vagina. He then began to force-feed himself into me, which made my back arch and I twisted and writhed under him, but it was too late. Once he was in, which took him several thrusts, I felt him even beyond what I thought I could.”
By now, I was so hard I could have used my dick as a hammer, but I had to let her continue.
“Once he began to thrust in me, I was done for. I couldn’t do anything. He shifted his arms, and made my knees fall over his elbows as he curled his knees up under my hips, and cradled my body in his, making me feel every fraction of him as he fucked me. It took me a minute or so to remember that I was not on the pill, and so I begged him to pull out, and not to make me get pregnant with his child, but that just seemed to spur him on. He then began to control me with his cock, using his thrusts and his pelvis to grind against my pearl and to make my voice cry out. That is when he was able to kiss me again. He was lewd about it, and between his cock in me and his tongue, I gave in. I had no more fight left in me and I surrendered to him.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, Honey, I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t do it. I thought I was stronger than him, but I am just not. He destroyed me and took what he wanted. I am so sorry, Robby. I love you!”
Her face buried in my chest some more as she cried, and I did the only human thing I could, which was to hug her and soothe her. I love my wife, and at that moment, I still wasn’t angry with her. I couldn’t be. I kissed her hair and held her, trying to shush away her tears. All the while I had this almost painful erection. I was going to need relief soon, or I was just going to climax myself by listening to her!
“Are you ready, Sweetheart?” I finally asked.
She sniffled back some runaway snot.
“Yeah, I’m sorry…” she wiped away some tears and continued.
“So, he and I had sex. I won’t call it making love, because I don’t love him, but we had sex. Yes, that also means we kissed. Heavily and passionately. He gave me two more orgasms, which just was wearing me out. But he had me for everything I had in me to give” She hesitated. “That includes my womb. He climaxed and came in me, and after he had cum inside me, he stayed on top of me, lifted my legs back to his shoulders, and used his fingers on my clit to make me orgasm again.”
I had to take a deep breath. This truly was the ultimate damsel in distress defeated fantasy she lived out. It was making me wonder if she didn’t fight him off all that hard.
“That explains all of your hickeys and bruises.”
She took a deep breath.
“Yeah, he got pretty rough with me every time.”
“Every time? What do you mean?”
“Honey, after he was done, he rested and left me tied up. He was touching me, and kissing me, and when he was ready, he had me again. Somewhere in the second time, he released my arms, and yeah…I responded to him more passionately. I even fell asleep in his arms after the third time. I only awoke when he was spreading my legs for the last time. After that, he took me to the office and let me come home. He fucked me, and I fucked him back, however, you want to put it, but my plan failed miserably. He turned me into his bitch last night.”
More tears came as her disappointment with herself became evident. She hadn’t just let me down; she had let herself down. I didn’t know women could make so many tears. But finally, she yawned, and I noticed that the sun was coming up.
“Sweetheart, let’s get you in bed. We need to sleep, and maybe I can try and reclaim my wife?” I asked rather hopefully. My hard-on was aching.
She wordlessly headed to the bed, dropping her remaining towel on the floor before she climbed under our sheets, naked. I hopped around to the other side, diving in, pulling down my pajamas and jockeys. Pulling my manhood out, I began to make my moves on her, but she turned over.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but I can’t. I have a date with him tomorrow night.”
----------------------
I couldn’t believe how hot that was, my wife was talking dirty to me while we were making love. It got us both so worked up that we both climaxed together and had I not been wearing a condom, I very likely might have gotten her pregnant. I lay atop her, smiling a goofy smile as we kissed, lovingly, while we exchanged caresses. I could see it in her eyes, the look of sated lust, but more. A deep, soul-embracing love. The same love I had for her; I was sure. My cock was softening as it was finished draining into her, my semen dutifully contained, or so I hoped. We were getting ready to start making a baby in about six months, but her doctor took her off birth control recently, necessitating my needing to use a rubber until we were ready. It was a conservative approach, but at the same time, it also would give us the best chances for conception when the time came. We were just waiting to see when we could move into a bigger house so we could begin our ******, and the only thing holding us back was interest rates. They were currently sky-high. Thank you, idiots in Washington.
I rolled from her, onto my back, and she snuggled into my armpit, her soft voice letting out a small, kitten-like purr. It was what she did when she was very happy, relaxed, and content.
“Oh, wow, that was intense, Wen. Where did that come from?”
‘Wen’ was short for Wendy, my wife’s name.
“What? You mean my fantasies?” my wife countered.
“Yeah. You know, I wasn’t even sure you have fantasies. I don’t get to hear much of them. You keep them more secret than what’s in Fort Knox!”
She giggled softly.
“My Love,” she began “I have them. But some may not be to your liking. I worry about your ego. I mean, men are so fragile!”
Her small burst of laughter made me blush. She wasn’t wrong. My ego was just as fragile as the next guy’s, and the few times she had openly remarked about a guy she found particularly attractive did give me pangs of jealousy. But when we got home, I would make up for it by trying to pound her through the bedframe. The results for her were decidedly mixed but for me? Yeah, I got mine.
“So, what other fantasies do you have?”
“Well…” she began by softly trailing a perfectly manicured nail along my chest and through my chest hairs. I didn’t have a forest there, but it wasn’t smooth, either.
“I’ve liked to be the damsel in distress. You know, like in the movies? Like the lady in King Kong? Helpless to the villain’s evil plans?”
“You mean you like to be tied up? Hell, I can do that!”
She snorted and poked my chest, giving me a small ‘Ow’.
“No, Silly. I mean, like truly helpless, where you aren’t around. Where I don’t know who will rescue me, or even if I will be rescued in time.”
“You mean like in the old movies where the heroine is tied to the railroad tracks? Sweetheart, that is more than just dangerous, that is suicidal!”
She smacked my chest.
“Wow, you can be so thick at times. I just mean it is like I am in some form of danger. But that can be in many forms. I dunno, it is hard to describe. Like if there is a troublemaker in our midst and I can’t get help. Like the perils of Pauline kind of stuff, or suffering that fate worse than death.”
I shook my head. “You do like a wild ride, don’t you?”
“Well, yah! I married you, did I?”
That got a kiss. A deep, long, passionate, loving kiss. The kind where we both moaned softly. The kind that made us both come up for air. The kind that left both our hearts racing.
Snuggled back into place, she tapped my chest again, softly.
“Honey? That reminds me. I need some advice on something.”
I shifted my head to try and see her nestled in on me, but it was an empty gesture, my neck wasn’t a telescope.
“Ok, so what’s up?”
Her fingernail continued to draw along my chest. It felt good, every time.
“We have this guy at work, he’s been with us almost a year now, and he just got promoted. He’s my opposite but on the sales side.”
I understood this. My wife worked in a technical field. She was a mechanical engineer, with a Master’s degree. Me? I was in middle management at another company.
“Go on.” I encouraged her.
“Well, ever since he has been with us, he’s been a bit of an ass. He keeps bothering us girls every time he is in the office. It’s not just like he wants us to recognize him for being who he is, but he also thinks he is God’s gift to women.”
“Is he bothering you?”
It was something I could understand. I knew I had married up in the looks department. My wife was five-foot-six in her bare feet and had great curves. Her butt was part of her weekly workout routine, and her chest? Well, let’s just say I am a boob-man, and I love her D-cups. All told I would guess her figure measured at a 34D-28-36. Add in her long auburn hair, and yeah, she was a stunner. In particular, my stunner.
“A bit. I mean, sometimes he just won’t leave, despite my ignoring him, or trying to. I know he keeps trying to look down my top, or up my skirt.”
I pursed my lips for a moment. I had to figure out the right delay to pause, so I could give it serious consideration. Too short, and she would think I was dismissing her claims. Too long, and she would think I wasn’t paying attention.
“Have you tried HR?”
“No. I mean, even if I did, all he would do is have to take the mandatory hour class and he’d be right back to annoying us.”
At least I had timed the pause right.
“So, what do you think you want to do, then?”
“Honestly? I want to crush his ego. Hard.” She growled.
Her growls sounded more like an angry kitten, and I loved to listen to them. I would sometimes intentionally piss her off, just so I could hear them.
“Alright, this oughta’ be interesting. How do you plan on doing that?”
“Well, Alexa went on a date with him, and they went to a carnival. There, they went to play games, and when it came to the softball toss and the basketball shooting thing, she kicked his black butt. She said he kept bragging about how good he was, he and didn’t even come close to hitting anything!” She ended with a giggle.
“So?”
“So, Alexa played softball and basketball in high school and went to college on a softball scholarship. She is lethal at these games. She is popular at the company picnics when it comes to game time. Anyway, when they went to try that shooting gun thing, where did you hit targets and stuff? She outdid him again. He didn’t know she was a Marine. She says he hasn’t bothered her since.”
That made her giggle, and I laughed out loud at that one. Imagine some smooth-talker who had never even played at recess trying to out-shoot a Marine? I could understand how it crushed his ego. It had to be like playing ‘Whack-a-mole’ with a sledgehammer.
“Ok, Sweetheart, I hate to burst your bubble here, but you aren’t exactly a star athlete. I was the one playing tight end while you were cheerleading. Wait, his black butt? He’s a black guy?”
She giggled at my belated revelation. Maybe she had a point about my not listening completely.
“Yeah, he is. And not just a little black, he’s very dark-skinned. Shaves his head, and even wears his shirts unbuttoned a little so he can show off his chest hair. So, yeah, he’s black. So what? And yes, I know. It’s your tight end that made me want to date you!”
I chuckled as she giggled some more. I also had to let the race thing go. If she didn’t care, neither did I. I had some very capable black people working for me and was grooming a young black woman for promotion. She had the potential to go far in my company.
“OK, so what’s your plan? How are you going to crush his ego so badly? Put him under a faulty bridge you design?”
“Oh, of course not, Silly. I want to let him take me out on a date!”
“Excuse me, Love of my Life? You want to try that one again?”
“I… want… to… let… him… take… me... out… on… a… date.” She made sure her words were enunciated.
“Okay, you are going to have to explain this one to me like I am five. So far, the answer is not only no, but Hell no!”
“Here me out. It’s pretty simple. I don’t even like the guy. Remember how I brushed off that guy you used to work with last Christmas? I can do that again, pretty easily. So, I want to do it. I want to set his ego up so high that when it gets crushed, it’ll make him lose his will to live. I’m going to dress up prettily for him, make all of the efforts to be arm candy, and then leave him high, dry, and so embarrassed that a blind man could see him blushing.”
I grunted. “Wow. You are motivated to hurt him, aren’t you?”
“Well, yah! I want to not only get him out of my office, but everyone else’s too. I’d rather push him off our floor, and let somebody else deal with him.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather take this to HR?”
“Honey, it has already been tried. He did the training and behaved for less than a week. Truth is, I think he just can’t help it. That arrogance isn’t an act, it is who he is, and the only way to fix it is to crush it.”
She smashed her open palms together and rotated them like she might squash a bug. I had to give her credit, her confidence in this was rather inspiring. She had a plan, even if I didn’t like it. She was also motivated, and she had the will to do it.
“Alright. I’ll say yes. But if it goes wrong, you go straight to your HR, got it?”
“Yes, Honey, alright. Deal.”
------------------
A couple of nights later, she came home from work, all smiles.
“Had a good day, did you?”
“Ohhh yeah. Operation Bug on a Windshield is underway!”
“So when is it?”
“This Friday night. I’m gonna take comp-time and get ready for him, and then break his spirit.”
“I hope you are meeting him somewhere. I sure as Hell am not going to play some sort of wimp husband in this little charade of yours if you’re being picked up here.”
“Not at all, Honey.” She kissed my cheek.
“He doesn’t have the comp-time I do, so he has to work. I’m going to meet him at the office, and we’ll go from there.”
“Where is he taking you?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. Dinner for sure, and then a show, I think?” She shrugged.
“You better be sending me texts to keep me posted.” It was my time to growl, and mine wasn’t nearly as pleasant as hers.
-------------
Fridays are our hybrid work days, so I stayed home as well. True to her word, on Friday she slept in, and then went to her hair stylist and got a mani-pedi as well. Her nails looked amazing, and I wanted a back scratch from them! I also wanted to feel her scratching my back while I was on top of her, but she kept pushing me away.
“Down, boy. Down! You’ll get your turn later.”
We had a late lunch and chatted, me more nervously than her, and she looked at the clock.
“Time to get ready for my date!”
She was rubbing it in, as my voice let out a big groan of disappointment. In truth, it was more than a little tinged with jealousy. I was starting to get more than a little uncomfortable with her plan.
She giggled as she shut the door to the bathroom and locked it. She knew my other favorite tactic. Attack when she was cornered in the shower! Oh, well.
When she came out, she looked sparkling clean and smelled delicious. I also noticed she had trimmed her pubic hair, to give her a flat landing strip that pointed to her clit.
“Ummm, you are going to crush his ego, right?” my voice asked with uncertainty.
“Yes, Robby, don’t worry. I did this for you in case you get lost later.”
Again, came her giggling as she went to apply her makeup. Smokey eyes, a darker blush, and the brightest red lipstick I had ever seen. They drew attention to needing to be kissed!
So, I sat on the bed and watched her getting ready. She took great pains to get it all right. I doubt she went into this much trouble on our wedding day. She dug into her lingerie drawer and poked about, pulling out different pairs of panty and garter sets, then searching for the right color stockings. She was doing this right. I just wished it was for me. I was starting to get jealous again. When I tried to approach her from behind, since she was still naked, I was granted a small treat when she delved her hand into my shorts and grasped my cock and balls. At first, I thought I was going to get a gift of release until she gave me a warning squeeze. That made me throw up my hands in concession. She had won.
So, sitting back down on the corner of the bed, I watched her as she softly hummed to herself, while I took in the glory that was my wife. I loved her so very much, the thought of all this was beginning to hurt. She drew on sheer white stockings, and then her lacey white garter belt and satin thong. It took me a moment to realize that they were what she wore under her wedding dress when she walked down the aisle to me. The same wedding lingerie that I so delicately removed with my teeth in the honeymoon suite, and the same lingerie she was stuck with when her suitcase was lost on our honeymoon.
Next, she went to her side of the closet and bent at the waist to look for shoes. Black sets were tossed aside, her blood-red ‘fuck-me’ stilettos were set carefully nearby, and her white strappy sandals were evaluated before being tossed with the black ones. Then she climbed to her tiptoes to reach the shelf and pulled out the box. The box that held her pure white patent leather stilettos. The very same heels she wore to our wedding. Pulling them out, she looked them over and then nodded. She had made her selection. Then it came time for the dress.
She pulled out the new dress I bought her for our next anniversary, which was soon. Blood red, with a halter top and a short circle skirt, the dress screamed sex appeal. She shook her head and put it back. Thank goodness! Then came her long black satin gown, slit to her hip. It got an instant rejection. More relief. Some sundresses were instantly rejected, a few dresses she usually wore to work were similarly put back, and then she delved deeper into the closet, and pulled it out. It was the white satin dress she wore at our wedding rehearsal, and on the day after our wedding. She also wore it a few more times on our honeymoon, due to her missing suitcase.
The dress had a very 1950s flair to it, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a built-in bra. The waist was slimming, and the skirt had a high-waisted circle skirt, hemmed above her knees. It was a very pretty, feminine, and to me, extremely sexy dress, especially when we reached our hotel on our honeymoon. We had just exited the taxi and the on-shore breeze blew her skirt up, and let everyone see her lingerie, the same set I was looking at the minute before. She squealed, but I found it arousing as hell, and I could not wait to throw her onto the bed and ravish her. Just like I wanted to do now, but she wouldn’t let me. I had to sigh at the memory.
“Relax, Honey, you’ll get your just rewards with me when I get back. Remember, this is me getting ready for war, not for play. Play is what I get when I get back, too!”
She gave me that killer smile that melted my heart, and I could see it in her eyes. She meant it. So shortly later, with some touching up of her makeup, packing her white satin clutch to match her outfit, and the world’s briefest, softest, barely-felt kiss, she dashed out, and the last I saw her before her ‘date’ was her driving down the street.
The first few hours were bearable. She texted me that they had left for dinner, in his car, and she even managed to sneak a quick photo of him. I was not comfortable with what I saw. He was, indeed, handsome, tall, well-dressed, and looked like a solidly built man. I imagined he could have any woman he wanted, or anything, for that matter. I was having doubts now, that my wife could resist his charming appearance. Even if he was an arrogant asshole.
I made a quick dinner of microwaved leftovers and watched the baseball game, only half-concentrating on it. The rest of my brain was becoming filled with worry. I was also getting horny, thinking of how my night was going to end when my wife rushed back to my arms, and into our bed. I was growing so wanting that I debated about jerking off, to allow me some immediate relief, and to build up stamina for later. But I held off. I had a beer, along with a mindless action movie filled with too many stunts and explosions and not nearly enough plot. It took me another beer to tolerate that movie, as well. My phone pinged, with a simple thumbs-up emoji from her. Things were going well. That was around 9 PM. OK, so they were done with dinner or should be, so I imagined she should be deflating his ego about now. Or maybe she had already shredded his manhood and was on her way home? I found a show I liked and had another beer, and the next thing I knew, I heard her car chirp as she locked it with her remote. She was home!
----------------
I had dozed off on the couch, in my t-shirt and pajama bottoms, with three dead soldiers in front of me. As I rose to greet her, the door burst open, and she looked at me.
“Don’t say a fucking word!” she ordered as she stormed right past me and upstairs to our bedroom.
Still coming to full consciousness, I had to glance at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning! What the Hell?
I raced after her, my mind becoming alive with so many questions.
“Wait! You are just now getting home? Why? What happened?”
I heard the shower running as I reached our bedroom. I stopped inside the door, as she was in the middle of taking her dress off, and what I saw stopped me cold.
She looked like she had never gotten ready for the date. Her hair was a mess, tousled and probably tangled, and her makeup looked like she had smeared a sponge over her face, and that was when I first noticed it. The bruising. She had a deep purplish-red mark on her neck, below her ear, and as she turned, I saw another one on the other side, near her clavicle. As she pulled her dress up over her head, I saw the markings on her inner thighs, her crotch, and her breasts. I then belatedly realized she had no panties on, either.
“Wendy, what the Hell happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
Her voice had a different tone, a more sinister snarl. This wasn’t the growl of an angry cute kitten. This was the dark menacing voice of a lioness who was beyond pissed. I tried to press her, but she stepped in the shower and began to peel off her lingerie, washing it out as she then began to clean herself, too. I did notice she spent extra effort on trying to wash off her vaginal area. I had this sense of foreboding. Her plan must’ve gone very badly. Very, very bad.
Not knowing what else to do, I went to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea. She didn’t drink it often, but there were times she would enjoy the comfort it gave her. I was carrying it up the stairs when the shower turned off. She emerged just after I entered, setting the tea on her side of the bed’s nightstand. A towel wrapped around her head, and just folding a towel around her body, she gave me a weak smile and then went for the tea. Wordlessly, she took a sip, and then a second, before daintily setting it down at her vanity as she began her nightly ablutions to go to bed. At the ripe hour of five in the morning.
“Want to talk about it now?”
“Not really.”
“Honey, this isn’t fair to me. I can see something happened. I love you, and I know we can fix whatever it is. So please… just tell me?”
Setting down the towel from her hair, she picked up her brush and began to smooth it out.
“Alright. But first, you have to promise me you won’t yell at me. I didn’t do anything wrong. It should have worked. My plan really should have worked.”
It was then I started to notice her eyes. They were beginning to brim with tears. I took her in my arms and just held her as she began to cry. In her honor, she did try to tell me, but all I heard was a tearful voice as her chest was wracked with sobs, while her face was buried on my shoulder. It took her about fifteen minutes before she could face me.
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I need that again, in human words.” I ended with a genuine smile. Anything to lighten the mood.
She looked at me again, her eyes bloodshot.
“I had him right where I wanted him. Thinking he was going to get lucky. That he was going to get this marvelous piece of ass he lusted for. That was when I texted you the thumbs-up.”
I simply nodded.
“He was being a perfect gentleman so far. Minding his p’s and q’s, and with impeccable manners. I could just as well have been with you, so far. He kept reminding me of you in his gestures. He never was rude or crude at dinner or even while we went dancing.”
“Dancing? I didn’t know you were going dancing.”
“Neither did I.” She grunted. “But on the dance floor, he was being suave. A gentleman, to be sure, but I began to get the hints of his wants. The lingering touching, the gyrations that grew in intensity, and the fact he loved to spin me. I swear my skirt spent more time at my waist than it did at my knees.”
She shook her head.
“That is when I felt the booze begin to kick in. I know he didn’t ply me with a bunch of alcohol, as I only had three, but he must’ve had them made extra stiff or something. I mean, I remember everything, but I just became more relaxed with him. I was feeling good with him. That was when he asked me if I wanted to leave.”
She shook her head as I stood there, spellbound, though I felt the stirrings of an erection growing in my pajamas. It was like listening to a damsel in distress story, knowing what was coming and I could do nothing about it. Like my wife was living out her deepest and most intimate secret. Her fantasy was coming to life, and I was powerless to rescue her.
“For some reason, I said yes. I still don’t know why. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t. But I did.”
“And?”
“And so back in his car, he was driving, and he started to feel me up. At first, it was just an accidental brush against my thigh, and then more. I tried to keep removing it, but it was like he was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. So, I gave up and let him feel my thigh and the satin of my dress. He kept sliding his hand up and down, my dress was sliding smoothly on my stockings, and I have to admit, it felt good. Oddly, though, I had no clue where we were going, and I didn’t think it was important to know. I remember we pulled into a parking structure and stopped on the top level. He was a gentleman as he opened the car door for me, and as I stepped out, the windy breeze caught my dress again. It had been happening most of the night, only this time I wasn’t ready for it, and he got a good look at everything. As I was trying to put my skirt back under control, that was when he did it.”
“He did what?” My heart was racing at this point, as was my boner.
“He kissed me. Long, hard, and deep. His tongue was in my mouth as I had squealed about my dress, and he was then all hands and lips. He was licking my tongue, my gums, my teeth, everything. It was like a surprise attack, and I didn’t see it coming. To be honest, he is a damn good kisser.” She paused.
“But that didn’t mean I was going to sleep with him!” she added. “I recovered myself and reached back to try and slap him. I was aiming for the side of his face, just above his jaw, and I was going to remove his head from his neck. That I show hard I wanted to hit him.”
She pursed her lips and then shook her head, her voice now softly subdued.
“That is when it happened.”
“Honey, what happened? Tell me?” I was growing alarmed.
“That was when he ***** me.”
“What?” It was now my turn to growl, like an angry lion. “Where the fuck can I find him?”
Shaking her head, she tried to dissuade me.
“Robby... look, I love you… but please... don’t even try to take some sort of revenge. I know you were an all-star in high school and were in excellent shape, but that was almost ten years ago. Believe me, I love you just the way you are, but physically, you are no match for him. Believe me, I know.”
“You saw him naked?”
She just nodded.
“But not at first. Right there on the trunk of his car, he was manhandling me like I was nothing. He has an easy six inches on me, and that is with my heels. He had me on the deck lid and was reaching under my dress, pulling at my panties as I was trying to fight my dress, and him. I resorted to begging him to stop, but he never hesitated. In the end, he had, or actually, still has, my panties.”
At the moment, I had no idea what to do. I had a warrior’s heart, with a rookie’s mind, and a raging hard-on to get rid of.
“He then hefted me over his shoulder and simply carried me to his place, like I didn’t even matter!”
One thing I loved was her great ability to be descriptive. I could imagine just about anything she explained to me easily. Only right now, I was hating the fact she had such excellent communication skills.
“I cried out for help, but I don’t think anyone either had the time to help me or cared to. Before I knew it, was in his apartment, bouncing on his bed. That was when I knew I was sunk. I was wearing a satin dress, on a satin comforter, with satin bedding. Plus, the only movement I could make was with my heels, and I kept getting a heel caught in my skirt. As I tried to escape, I couldn’t get anywhere, while he was kicking off his shoes and then diving under my dress. I tried to push him away, but he was covered by the skirt and so I had to try and endure him. I kept begging him to stop, even thrashing my legs, but he just adjusted himself to cradle my thighs with his shoulders, bending me so my vagina was at his lips. I felt his finger slide inside me, and between his massaging my G-spot and teasing my clit with his tongue, he made me climax, twice!”
Okay, so now I knew I wasn’t going to go kill this guy right now. I was too riveted to the spot by my wife’s words. I had to adjust my penis and came away with a wet spot on my underwear. I was leaking pre-cum from her travails.
“And?”
“And that was when he stripped naked, and I got to look at him all. And I do mean all, Honey, this is why I don’t want you to go after him. He’s bigger than you in every way.”
“What do you mean, ‘every way’?” It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it.
“Robby, my Love, he is taller than you and works out. He isn’t a body-builder type, but he is well-muscled. I could see his abs, and he had a six-pack. You lost yours when we graduated high school.”
“That’s because you are a fantastic cook and started feeding me.”
It was a long-running joke between us. It did make her smile a little.
“Thank you, Honey, but I know you are hungry for more than food right now. So please let me finish?”
I simply nodded.
“Alright, so as I lay there, trying to regain my senses, he simply climbed on top of me, lifted my arms over my head, and used his tie to bind my wrists to his headboard. After he had me helpless, he then began to slap my lips with his cock. He told me to suck it, but by then, I had recovered enough and refused. He had kissed me by surprise, but that was the last time he was going to get into my mouth! So, that is when he lifted the skirt. He didn’t try and take my clothes off, no show of decorum or propriety. He was just a predator, and he was taking what he could. He already had my panties, and I know between the orgasms and everything, I was certainly wet enough for him. He knelt between my thighs and kept them apart, while he exercised his cock, waving it at me to see it. He told me that I was going to get fucked by the biggest cock I had ever seen.”
She started blushing.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but he was right. He is bigger than you in the sex department, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way you make love to me, but he has you beat by a few inches, and he sure knows how to use it.”
She hesitated, looking up at me, her gaze hoping for some form of reassurance, or even acceptance of what happened. I realized I couldn’t be mad at her for all this. I could, and would, be pissed as Hell at the situation, and at this guy, whom I belatedly realized I didn’t even have a name for, other than arrogant black ******. But I couldn’t be mad at her.
“Alright… go on.”
“So, he got all hard, and then he grabbed my ankles and stuck them on his shoulders, while he then began to put his cock inside me. He didn’t just ram it in, thank heavens, but he took the time to make me feel him. He used his cock to slide my labia open and tease my clit by slapping it with his cock some more, and as I started to be defeated, he then lined up and pushed into me. I writhed under him, crying out because it hurt, at first, but he took some pity on me and made sure I was feeling him until he gained access to my vagina. He then began to force-feed himself into me, which made my back arch and I twisted and writhed under him, but it was too late. Once he was in, which took him several thrusts, I felt him even beyond what I thought I could.”
By now, I was so hard I could have used my dick as a hammer, but I had to let her continue.
“Once he began to thrust in me, I was done for. I couldn’t do anything. He shifted his arms, and made my knees fall over his elbows as he curled his knees up under my hips, and cradled my body in his, making me feel every fraction of him as he fucked me. It took me a minute or so to remember that I was not on the pill, and so I begged him to pull out, and not to make me get pregnant with his child, but that just seemed to spur him on. He then began to control me with his cock, using his thrusts and his pelvis to grind against my pearl and to make my voice cry out. That is when he was able to kiss me again. He was lewd about it, and between his cock in me and his tongue, I gave in. I had no more fight left in me and I surrendered to him.”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, Honey, I am so, so sorry. I couldn’t do it. I thought I was stronger than him, but I am just not. He destroyed me and took what he wanted. I am so sorry, Robby. I love you!”
Her face buried in my chest some more as she cried, and I did the only human thing I could, which was to hug her and soothe her. I love my wife, and at that moment, I still wasn’t angry with her. I couldn’t be. I kissed her hair and held her, trying to shush away her tears. All the while I had this almost painful erection. I was going to need relief soon, or I was just going to climax myself by listening to her!
“Are you ready, Sweetheart?” I finally asked.
She sniffled back some runaway snot.
“Yeah, I’m sorry…” she wiped away some tears and continued.
“So, he and I had sex. I won’t call it making love, because I don’t love him, but we had sex. Yes, that also means we kissed. Heavily and passionately. He gave me two more orgasms, which just was wearing me out. But he had me for everything I had in me to give” She hesitated. “That includes my womb. He climaxed and came in me, and after he had cum inside me, he stayed on top of me, lifted my legs back to his shoulders, and used his fingers on my clit to make me orgasm again.”
I had to take a deep breath. This truly was the ultimate damsel in distress defeated fantasy she lived out. It was making me wonder if she didn’t fight him off all that hard.
“That explains all of your hickeys and bruises.”
She took a deep breath.
“Yeah, he got pretty rough with me every time.”
“Every time? What do you mean?”
“Honey, after he was done, he rested and left me tied up. He was touching me, and kissing me, and when he was ready, he had me again. Somewhere in the second time, he released my arms, and yeah…I responded to him more passionately. I even fell asleep in his arms after the third time. I only awoke when he was spreading my legs for the last time. After that, he took me to the office and let me come home. He fucked me, and I fucked him back, however, you want to put it, but my plan failed miserably. He turned me into his bitch last night.”
More tears came as her disappointment with herself became evident. She hadn’t just let me down; she had let herself down. I didn’t know women could make so many tears. But finally, she yawned, and I noticed that the sun was coming up.
“Sweetheart, let’s get you in bed. We need to sleep, and maybe I can try and reclaim my wife?” I asked rather hopefully. My hard-on was aching.
She wordlessly headed to the bed, dropping her remaining towel on the floor before she climbed under our sheets, naked. I hopped around to the other side, diving in, pulling down my pajamas and jockeys. Pulling my manhood out, I began to make my moves on her, but she turned over.
“I’m sorry, Robby, but I can’t. I have a date with him tomorrow night.”
