Jill’s Problem

Jill Cavendish Baker, 35 years old and 18 months married,emerged from the shower mad as a wet hen. “TED!” she shouted through the closed door of the tiny, non-ventilated upstairs bathroom. “You took my TOWEL again!!” No answer.She ran the big untangling comb through her mahogany hair and yanked open the door, thankful for the cool air in the hallway.

Where WAS he? She thundered down the stairs, a delicate spray of water drops in her wake, a damp blue towel tied carelessly around her small waist. Her breasts jiggled as her feet hit the stairs, their rosy nipples pointing the way to the kitchen. Ted, her husband for every one of those 18 months, was not to be found. However, Jill’s fury was fed by the sight of three unwashed pans, a now ruined bowl of leftover spaghetti sauce on top of the microwave, and three hungry cats staring mournfully at their dinner-encrusted bowls.

“TED!!!!” she howled, stamping her foot and scattering the cats. “Where ARE you?? NOTHING is done… I can’t do EVERYTHING, I am late for my JOB, remember?? I have a MEETING… you PROMISED to take care of this stuff!” Her eye fell on the counter top, Ted’s briefcase and attendant papers were spread over every available inch. “SHIT!!!!!” Jill walked over to the mess and swept it onto the floor, watching it hit with a satisfying thud-ruffle-ruffle.

“I TOLD you not to spread this crap all over the place. You’ve GOT a goddamn study, haven’t you?? Look, where ARE you??” she whined, storming into the living room. ” If I don’t get in early, I’m NOT going to be able to leave on time and pick up the food for this moronic poker party you’re having tonight!! TEDDDD!!!!”

He came down the stairs slowly, his jaw working, his eyes clouded with anger. He looked at his suddenly silent young wife, looked past her at the briefcase, now leaning at a jaunty angle against the wing chair in the living room, and the papers for the grant proposal now carpeting the floor.

“What seems to be the problem now, Jill?” he asked, his voice low and controlled.

“The problem? The PROBLEM?? You said you would clean up last night, you haven’t fed the cats, your shit” (he grimaced in spite of himself) “is all over the counter again, you took my Polo bathsheet, and you PROMISED to drive me to the Park ‘N Ride because my car is in the shop, REMEMBER??” She was magnificent looking, he was able to think, despite the steam escaping at an alarming rate from his brain.

“I didn’t give you a timetable for cleaning the pans, I will feed the cats when I get back from driving you to the Park ‘N Ride, the Polo bath-sheet is in the laundry where YOU put it, and, if you recall, YOU were using my study last night to prepare your notes for today’s meeting.”

She hated when he was reasonable. He was always reasonable. “Well, why didn’t you ANSWER me when I CALLED you?” she asked, mollified but unbowed.

“I was on the phone…… in the study.” He turned to retrieve the scattered papers.

“With whom?” she asked, hand on the staircase, running her hand through her drying hair. She kept walking up, not really caring to whom he had been speaking. “Your Father.” She stopped just in time to be able to duck her head down over the balustrade and consider his 46 year old professorial backside.

“My FATHER? You talked to him yesterday, didn’t you? Since when have you two become such good buddies?”

“He’s sending me something FedEx. I called to make sure he had done it yesterday because I need it tonight.” His voice remained impassive, calm.

“Something? What thing?” Her curiosity was aroused. “His poker-chip thing that you like?”

“No. You’ll see. Now hurry up and get dressed.” She came down several minutes later, transformed from wet hen to professional broadcast time buyer, correctly suited,socked, heeled, and brief cased. Her hair was caught up in a thick, glossy French braid, and delicate gold jewelry decorated her wrist and earlobes. He caught the singular scent of “Joy” as he bent to kiss her. She smiled in spite of her determination to let him know how much he had annoyed her.

“Do I look yummy?” she asked coyly. “Good enough to eat,” was his part of the morning repartee.

“Dig in!” she completed, grinning and kissing him back. She loved this part of being married…… the petted and treasured part. She had never intended to marry, but Ted had changed her mind. He was a little studied, a little deliberate, just a tiny bit boring since his early tenure at Duke had come through, and he worried way too much, but all in all he was a welcome change from her firey, blue- collar Father.

“Let’s go, babe,” he pushed her toward the door. “I want to drop you off and get back here so I can put the grant together again.” She grimaced, regretting her rash reaction to his work.

He kissed her again as her bus was pulling in, watched until she had boarded, and sped back to the house. As he pulled into the driveway, he saw the red, white and blue FedEx truck in his rear-view mirror. Good timing, he thought, and smiled.

* * * LATER THAT EVENING * * *

“TEDDDDDD!!!!” she shouted, juggling the tray from the deli her briefcase, and the keys to the company car she had borrowed. She kneed the front door closed behind her and shouted again. “TEDDDDDDYYYYYYYYY!!!” She knew he hated the diminuitive, so she used it only when she was totally exasperated by his refusal to be where she wanted him when she wanted him.

“Hi Jill!” startled her, and she looked toward the living room.

“Ohmigod! Hi guys!” she said, looking confused, dropping the keys and briefcase and checking the clock. “I didn’t expect you till seven!” she went on, leaving the deli tray on the immaculate kitchen counter, next to the clock that said 6:15. Ted’s three best friends. Alex, Ben, and Adrian sat two on the couch, one on the chair in the smartly decorated living room.

“Yeah, it was 7, but Ted called us and asked us to get over here early…… said something about wanting to make it an early night,” said Ben, winking at the other two.

“Oh, you guys!” replied Jill, smoothing her skirt and blushing slightly at the implication. She was confused. Ted never ever made statements that included sexual innuendo. It just wasn’t like him. She turned and went back into the kitchen, noting the bulging FedEx envelope lying next to the sink. Wonder what Dad sent him? She thought, pulling Saran Wrap off the deli tray and checking the fridge for beer. As soon as this was done she could change and meet HER friends for drinks at LaPub. She didn’t hear Ted come down the stairs, she was busy half-listening to the banter among the guys. She started when he stepped behind her and put his big hands on her shoulders.

“Sorry, sweetie” (Sweetie? she thought) “didn’t mean to scare you. How was the meeting?”

“It went ok,” she brightened, kissing him quickly. “The Dairy Board has committed to 9 weeks of broadcast, and they want spot, so it will be busy but lucrative for the mmfff!” He had cut her off with a kiss. A deep, long, hot, wet kiss that left her shaken and breathless.

“Yo! Ted, my Man!!”

“Way to go, Tedster!”

“Wooooo! Do it!”

The guys were shouting from the living room. Ted let her goand spun around, firing a silencing look.

“This is serious, guys…I told you.”

Jill’s heart was pounding.

“Ted, what is this about? You ARE scaring me now!” He took the FedEx envelope and handed it to her.

“Hold this while we talk, young lady,” he said sternly, propelling her into the living room and sitting her on the coffee table in front of the couch. (Young LADY? she was beginning to perspire lightly).

Ted stood in front of her. The guys fell silent behind him. All eyes were on her.

“Things are going to be changing around here, young lady. I am completely aware that you think I am stuffy, academic, and maybe a bit boring..”

“Oh honey, no, I…”

“DON’T interrupt. I have done what you would expect me to do, Jill. I have formed a committee. I have consulted. I have researched. I don’t like what I have found.” He fell silent. Jill fidgeted, pulling at the hem of her skirt, removing invisible lint and smoothing nonexistent wrinkles.

“Your behavior in this house and your attitude toward me are appalling, I don’t need a committee to tell me that. Jill looked down, embarrassed. I did however, need a bit of input from my friends here to deduce that you have been flirting with each of them, as well as with male coworkers, THAT thanks to Adrian, who shares your workplace!” Jill glared at Adrian, who looked sheepish. Ted continued: “How did you think that would make me feel, Jill?” He asked quietly.

She looked up at him for the first time since he had begun to speak, and saw the hurt and the anger in his face. She wanted to die. “It was just a game, honey,” she said earn- estly, needing to convince him. “It doesn’t mean anything, really. And I’ll be better around the house, I shouldn’t have those tantrums, I know, I just get so MAD, and then I…”

“And then you act like a spoiled little girl?”

“Well…” her cheeks were burning with the humiliation of having what she felt should be a private conversation in front of these three.

“There was an outside consultant as well, Jill.”

“Outside?” she asked, confused.

“Open the package. Let’s see what your Dad suggested as a remedy for our ‘situation’.”

A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Ted had actually talked to her FATHER about their relationship…about her behavior? She began to squirm with some very unpleasant memories connected with her Father and the word “behavior”.

“Open it, Jill!” Ted repeated. She tore away the little strip and reached inside. She pulled her hand back as if it had been burned.

“Ohmigod, no, Ted…this is a joke, isn’t it?”

“Take it out, Jill!”

“No, honey, really, I…”

“TAKE IT OUT NOW!” he thundered, making her jump. She had never seen him like this, so tightly wound, so commanding. Her heart began to pound. The guys leaned forward, fascinated. She dipped her hand in again, and gingerly pulled out the contents. Adrian let out a long, low whistle. Ben snickered. Alex muttered something in Italian she didn’t catch. She began to shake, tears forming and sparkling behind her lashes.

“Ted, this is a cruel joke, I am so embarrassed that you did this!”

“Tell the guys what this is, Jill.”

“Ted, no, I…”

“DO IT!”

She looked at the three of them. They were all mouth breathing, the bastards, loving her discomfort.

“This is the strap my Dad used to…to…spank me with when I was a girl,” she managed, with some dignity.

“SHOW IT!”

She jumped and held the strap between upraised and widespread hands. She shook as she displayed the supple brown leather belt that had caressed her bare backside more times than she cared to recall.

“Is this over now, Ted?” she managed through clenched teeth.

“Oh, no, my dear. No, not at all! You are about to remember exactly what it felt like. You are about to learn that us quiet, academic, boring types have our limits, my dear wife and that you have breeched mine. You are about to learn that I will no longer tolerate your silent reproach of my gentle sexuality, your caustic opinion of my livelihood, nor your ridiculous advances to my friends and your co-workers. Stand up and lift your skirt!”

“Ted, that is absurd. I will do no such thing!!” she said coldly.

“Adrian. Come on… I told you three you would have to help!” Suddenly Adrian was in front of her, lifting her easily to her feet and holding her. One large hand swept the back of her skirt up to her waist.

“STOP THAT!!! DAMN YOU!” she screeched. “OWWWW!!!” she jumped as Ted’s hand cracked across the seat of her Victoria’s Secret bikinis.

“Hold your skirt up yourself, Jill!” he commanded quietly,”or Adrian will hold it up for you, and you’ll get an extra ten!”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Ted…this is crazy. She was limp in Adrian’s hold, not wanting to appear to take this too seriously.

“HOLD IT UP! DAMN YOU!”

Her hands scrabbled down to her sides and grabbed the rucked up skirt. Adrian released her and sat back down. She stood there, face burning, choosing not to see the three of them shifting and adjusting their fairly obvious conditions.

“Maybe we had better get something clear right now, Jill. If you choose not to co-operate, my friends will assist me. Ben will take your panties down, Alex will put you over the arm of the couch and hold you there. By that time, you will have earned an extra 20 on top of the 25 your Dad recom- mended. Are we clear on that, dear?”

“Ted, listen, please,” she whispered urgently. “I know I’ve been a pain in the ass, and I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have, um, played at flirting with these three ingrates, but I did, and I’m sorry about that too. But this…this is so childish, so juvenile. Can’t we settle this upstairs, later?” she pleaded. She looked ravishing, the cream colored silk seat of her panties trembling, her hair fall- ing out of its braid, her face flushed, her eyes sparked with tears. He was more than half tempted. But he knew he had let this go on too long, and he needed to establish his dominance right here and right now.

“Take your panties down, Jill. Right to your knees, and right now,” he commanded in his calmest voice. She groaned and looked away, unable to believe her bookish, boring husband had suddenly taken command. She shuddered, feeling an old familiar clench in her belly… something she hadn’t felt in years. She waited, the mantelpiece clock snick snicked in the silence.

“Ben?” Ted requested. Ben stood up and was reaching for the delicate waistband when Jill shouted.

“NO. No.” She saw there was no way out. “I’ll do it. I’m sorry, Ted, I really am. I won’t ever act like that again. I love you!” She looked at him again, impassioned.

He nodded. “And I love you, baby. Now pull your panties down. You know you have this coming, don’t you?”

“Yes, Ted,” she gulped, tucking her skirt up higher and sliding the wisp of silk down to her shaking knees. All three guys were on the couch now, directly in front of her. She closed her eyes as she straightened. Her shaved pussy was smooth as the creamy silk of her panties. She heard the soft gasps and quiet exclamations as they drank in the sight of her hairless mons and the delicate cleft of her pussy. Ted rescued her quickly, she silently blessed him.

“Off the couch, you three. Jill, come over here to the arm and bend over. That’s it, baby, I want your bottom nice and high. You may fold your arms on the seat and rest your head. You may wiggle and cry and kick… but you may not stand up or I will take you over my knee and hand-spank you until I am tired, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ted,” she sobbed, relieved to be away from the staring eyes of these men she had known almost as long as Ted had.

“Alex, you sit back down on the couch in case Jill decides to raise her head. You other two can share the big stuffed chair.” Ben and Adrian moved to the chair, turning it slightly for a better view of Jill’s magnificent ass. Ted took his place behind his trembling young wife and raised his arm head high.

“Your Dad offered to coach me, Jill, but I told him I thought I could take it from here,” he said with what she knew was a grin. She buried her face in her arms and cried. Beyond the utter humiliation of this moment, bare, upended, and in front of their friends, she knew the strap was going to paint her bottom with fire. She twitched her bottom and clenched it hard. “Relax your fanny, young lady. I don’t spank until I see a nice presentation for the strap!”

My God, where had this come from, she wondered, feeling, in spite of herself, a hot jet of excitement tear through her pussy. She relaxed and raised her bottom slightly. SMACK!!! It whistled through the air and slapped across both cheeks. She heard the guys collective gasp just as the pain message hit her brain and exploded. She shrieked, and her legs kicked up. SMACK, right across the fullest part of her double-striped ass.

“No, Ted, pleeeease!!” SMACK, SMACK!! Two quick ones, down low where it hurt most of all. “OOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! Oh God no more, honey!!”

“Present your bottom, Jill. NOW!!!”

SMACK!!! SMACK! WHACK! SMACK!!

“PRESENT!!”

“AAAAHHHHAAAAAA!!!!!!” Jill was screaming and twisting, her bottom already bright red. “Yes, sir, yes, sir!!” she was babbling, lifting her bottom for the next lick. SSSSMACK!!! This one caught her thigh, and she shrieked and leaped up and away from the couch, frantically dancing her panties off, showing her rubbed-pink pussy and her red-strapped bottom to the room.

“GGGOOOODDDDDDD, NO TED, No more, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she turned her tear-streaked face up to him as he stepped toward her and grabbed her arm. In one balletic move he was sitting on the coffee table and she was across his knee, her almost scarlet bottom perched high over his left thigh.

“Your Dad warned me this would happen, so you see that I was ready, young lady! he hissed. He turned to the tumescent trio and jerked his head toward the couch. “Back there!” he commanded, and the three jostled for position facing Jill’s nicely positioned ass. This was more than they had dreamed of when Ted told them he needed to straighten things out with Jill and wanted their help.

“All of you are married….. I was the last to fall but the first, I believe, to take his wife firmly in hand,” he said evenly. “I want you to know what a well-spanked ass should feel like, just in case you need to employ the same methods as the old professor, here!” He swung his knees toward the couch. The three looked at one another, stunned. “Go ahead” Ted exclaimed, “feel it!!” Jill groaned and sobbed as the three reached out tentative but eager hands and traced the plump, burning mounds of her strapped ass. She was beyond humiliation, limp over her husband’s knee. After a moment, he pulled her away and raised his hand.

“Now, young lady, you are about to find out just how much stamina your old husband really has!”

“Oh no, darling, please…. I’ve learned my lesson, really, please… please don’t spank me anymore!” she twisted and looked up at him over her shoulder, a more fetching sight he would be hard pressed to imagine. “My bottom stings so!”

“I am very glad that you can say you’re sorry, Jill. But now you have to FEEL you’re sorry!” And he brought his hand down smartly over the strap marks. Jill twisted and bucked and cried as he delivered nearly fifty handspanks to her sizzling cheeks. When he was comfortable that her attitude had taken a sharp right turn, and she was limp and submissive beneath his hand, he stopped spanking and began rubbing.

He glanced over at the trio on the couch, who were leaning away from one another, trying discreetly to rub their straining erections.

“Out of here!” Ted commanded with a grin. “Take it home… and thanks for your help.”

“Yeah, whoa, Ted, right, later” gasped the three as they grabbed for concealing jackets and jammed the doorway. Ted turned back to his lovely little wife, still sniffling in position over his knee. His hand traced down the burning curve of her bottom and slid easily between her thighs. Jill groaned and opened her legs for him, pushing back lewdly against his inquisitive fingers. In the last several moments, the burning sting of the spanking had given way to a fire between her legs, and she wiggled and moaned across Ted’s lap, feeling his arousal as she did.

“Oh God, Ted…oh baby, please…” she moaned softly, as he expertly fingered her sweet dewy lips, teasing gently to open them and slide into the hot wet depths of her. His left arm, still circling her body, pulled her closer, and his left hand slid beneath her, cupping her silky mound and pressing in tiny circles against her erect and throbbing clit. The fingers of his right hand were busy, teasing her pussy and the curve of her bottom, sliding in and out in and out, drawing the pearly slickness out and up until his wet warm finger was drawing little circles around her most private little pucker. He waited, rubbing, circling, teasing, until her back arched and her breathing came in short, quick gasps. Then he plunged his wet finger into her tiny tight anus, and she screamed his name as she came, grinding hard against his other hand. She was shuddering and crying when he turned her over and picked her up, heading for the stairs and their bedroom.

“Jill?” he said quietly. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “I love you, baby. Don’t make me do this again. Because I will if I have to, you know that now, don’t you?” “Yes, darling. Could you shut up and kiss me?” Ted rolled his eyes and disappeared with her up the stairs.

Margaret Talks Dirty

“You want me to spank you?”

I stared at her, shocked. This was not at all where I thought the conversation would lead when she had suggested that we have a talk. A talk which turned out to be about the state of our marriage.

“I’m not saying its compulsory. But I want us to talk about the things that will put the spark back into our sex life,” she said. “We didn’t need to talk about sex when we first married, we just fucked like rabbits whenever we had the urge, which was often.”

I grinned, it was true, those first couple of years we had hardly been able to keep our hands off each other. I had watched one Wimbledon women’s final on the television with Margaret lying over my lap on the couch. By the second set she had her shorts and panties off and my left hand was working away at her snatch while I finger fucked her arse with the other. We never made it to the third set.

“But after a couple of kids, with you traveling so much and me with my charity shop work, there isn’t the spark like there used to be, even when we do find the time.”

She held out her arms, I saw the tears well up in her eyes and I held her and hugged her.

“I love you James, you’re the only man for me, but I don’t want us to drift into a sexless, middle aged marriage. I know I’m not the girl you married, that my boobs sag, I’ve a muffin top and my arse wobbles. But inside I’m the same and I get just as randy as I used to, and I want to feel desired. I want to see you with lust in your eyes and a thumping great erection that can fill me up and fuck me giddy. Okay you wear glasses now and you’ve got a bit of a belly and your hairs receding, but there’s nothing wrong with your wedding tackle, it works the same as it always did. I just want to see it work more often, and giving me the sex that you promised in our wedding vows.”

“I must have missed that bit,” I said. “I remember the bit about loving and honouring, and endowing you with all my worldly goods.”

“With my body I thee worship,” said Margaret. “I interpret that to mean that you will take me down off the pedestal where I don’t belong, and fuck the living daylights out me, hard and often.”

She reached up and stroked my cheek. “I’m not trying to embarrass you darling, with a lot of slutty talk. I just want us to get out of the rut and be the young lovers we used to be, that shared everything. So I’m opening myself up to you, it’s not easy after years of growing a respectable, middle class shell and it makes me afraid. That you’ll laugh, or be offended or worse still, say that you are happy with the way things are.”

Her eyes looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to find the words to reply. And I knew that she wasn’t going to let me off the hook lightly. She had thrown down a gauntlet and I had to pick it up.

“It’s not easy for me too,” I began. “I guess I just accepted it as normal that sex would become less important as we got older. I wasn’t happy about it, but it never occurred to me to ask you whether you were happy with it. As you didn’t say anything I just took it for granted.”

“Don’t put all the blame on me, you should have asked me. Just think back to when were young. Did I ever refuse you when you asked to screw me in the car, or on the beach, or to give you a blow job while you watched the football, or to shave my cunt, or to shove a vibrator up my arse while you fucked me so you could feel it vibrating?”

“No,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn at the vulgar phrases that I rarely heard from her lips.

She stroked my cheeks and her palms felt soothing and cooling.

“Am I shocking you, darling? Does it shock you to hear you middle aged, middle class wife talk like a whore?”

I nodded.

“Good, because we need to be shocked out of our rut, and I certainly got your attention when I said I wanted you to beat me. Have I still got it?”

I nodded again.

“Good. So ask me now. Ask me if I’m happy with our sex life and what I would like it to be.”

She took my hand and placed it over her left breast, squeezing my fingers against her flesh.

“Make my heart race lover.”

“Are you happy with our sex life Margaret,” I said, gently squeezing her breast and feeling the nipple stiffen through the bra and blouse. “Is there anything you would like us to do or try that would make it better?”

She removed her hand from mine, placed it over to her right breast and traced its contours before centering on the nipple and gently pinching it. I could see it firm under the material.

“No James, I’m not happy. I want our sex life to be like it was when we were first married. I know we’re not exactly the same people we were back then but I have the same desires and, if I’m not mistaken, I think you do to. We just need to find more ways to fan those desires back into flame.”

I pinched her nipple harder and was rewarded with a little intake of breath. “And you think me spanking you will achieve that.”

“I don’t know, but if taking my clothes off and laying over your lap for you to spank my buttocks crimson, or bending over the table so you can whack some stripes onto my backside with a switch, gets you so hard and excited that you make love to me afterwards, then I’m prepared to give it a try.

“But aren’t you worried it will hurt?” I gave her nipple another pinch and felt my cock stiffen in my pants.

“You see, darling, we’ve already got passed the question of whether I want you to spank me, to discussing what it will be like.”

With her other hand she reached down and stroked my hardening cock through my trousers. “I expect it to hurt. It has to hurt enough to get you in the mood to fuck me, although by the state of you,” she squeezed my cock which was now fully erect, “and the wimpish way you pinched my nipple I don’t think it will hurt much at all.”

She reached for my fly, unzipped it, snapped the waistband of my underpants under my scrotum to free my erection, ran her fingernails gently along the underside of it, retracted my foreskin and gently rolled her thumb over the glans massaging it with the pre-cum that had started to ooze from the tip. I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips.

“I know that God is supposed to have only given you enough blood to work either your brain or your cock, but not both together.” She grinned and ran her tongue around her lips as more pre-cum welled out of my cock. “But let’s see if we can disprove that theory. I’m offering to let you spank or cane me, whatever you want for as long as you want.” She gave my cock a playful squeeze, hard enough to grab my attention. “But there have to be some simple rules. You stop when I say stop and you only ever do it when we are both naked. It’s not going to be some sadistic type of game where you invent rules and punish me for breaking them. I’m not going to be any sort of pain loving masochistic slave. If you want to spank me then all you have to do is ask, stop when I tell you and make love to me afterwards. How does that sound.”

I was finding it quite hard to think with Margaret’s hand gently masturbating me. And what she had said required a deal of thought.

“But I’m not sure if I would want to hurt you,” I said.

“Are you enjoying this?” she said gently pinching my scrotum with her fingernails and then raking them slowly along my shaft.”

I moaned and nodded, then gasped in surprise as she gripped my balls and squeezed gently.

“There are times when I want to hurt you James. Times when you’ve forgotten an anniversary, times when you’ve said something unflattering, times when you’ve ignored me, or talked over me. Not seriously hurt you of course, just to give you a sharp reminder that I’m the love of your life.”

With her other hand she reached for mine and lifted it back up to her breast.

“Undo my blouse, push up my bra and stroke my tits, please.

I did as I was told.

“I know there are times when you get angry with me,” she said. “We can’t please each other all the time, but like most sensible people, if we fight, we fight with words. You’ve never laid a finger on me in anger, and if you ever did I’d leave you. I hate it when we row and things don’t get resolved. I hate going to bed when we’re not speaking to each other and bottling things up. I know we always work it out in the end. But sometimes I wonder whether a spanking, a good cry and long hard fuck would clear the air much quicker for both of us.”

She paused. I had both of her breasts in my hands and was gently massaging them. Enjoying the feel of her rubbery hard nipples under my palm, and the feel of her forefinger rolling my foreskin around my glans.

“Am I making any sense?” she said.

“Perfectly, I am so glad we are having this conversation.”

She looked at me carefully, wondering if I was being flippant. I wasn’t.

“Tell me James,” she said. “If I hadn’t started this conversation do you think you would have ever have asked me to let you spank me?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head emphatically.

“I thought not. Well were going to put that right. When we were young you never worried about asking me anything, even if you thought I might say no. That’s the way I want to get back to. Starting now. So I want you to ask me six things. Sexual things, things you have wanted to do with me but have been afraid to ask, just like spanking me.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“You might say no?”

“I might, but then you’d be no worse off than if you hadn’t asked. But I might say yes, or at least maybe.”

“Can I have some time to think about, Maybe write you a list?”

“No way. No lists, no subtle hints such as pages of books marked or a porn mag left open at a nasty photograph. If you want something I want to hear it from your lips. Preferably in plain, vulgar English. I want the first six now, I’ll take a rain check on the next six.”

“Okay, can we take our clothes off?”

“She laughed, let go of my hand, pulled off her blouse and bra and started to unzip her skirt.

“You can have that as freebie, come on I’m not going to sit her naked on my own.

I didn’t need any encouragement and in seconds we were stripped naked and I was sitting on the sofa and she was lying face up across my lap. I placed my left hand on a breast and reached down with my right. She obligingly opened her legs and I brushed my fingers over her vulva and neatly trimmed bush.

“What’s your first request?”

I gently tugged at her pubic hair. “Can I shave this off?”

“Yes, I’m surprised you haven’t asked long before. You always used to enjoy shaving me.”

“Can I have a supplementary?”

“Depends what it is?”

“Would you have it waxed?”

“Ouch, that would hurt. But probably no worse than a spanking. I’ll do it if you do the waxing.”

This was sounding better all the time.

“Can we have anal sex?”

“Yes, as often as you like. You know I liked it when we were younger and nothing’s changed apart from a couple of hemorrhoids from straining to push two kids out. I can have those fixed if they worry you. But plenty of lube and you should have no trouble.”

She was right, she had enjoyed anal sex, almost right from the beginning of our relationship. We had started with finger play, me inserting one and then two fingers into her anus. And she had returned the favor. Sometimes with me kneeling on the floor, finger fucking my ass with one hand and wanking me off with the other. From there she had worked up to kneeling astride me cowgirl style, lowering her anus until it engaged with the head of my cock and then slowly sitting down and taking it all inside her. After that she had been happy to kneel down and let me fuck her anus doggie fashion. But it had stopped around the time our first child was born and I had never asked again. Until now.

“Can I tie you up?”

I had been gently stroking her vulva, gliding my fingertips down one side of her outer lips, tracing across her perineum, back up the other side and across the top of her clit. I had eased her labia apart and looking down I could see the exposed, glistening pink of her sex. I let my fingers continue their downward glide, circling wide to brush lightly across the brown, puckered ring of her anus and then slipped the middle finger in between the parted lips of her pussy. She felt like warm, pulsating honey as I gently circled my finger tip against the inner wall of her vagina, and she moaned and breathed deeply.

“Are you trying to gain an unfair advantage?”

I removed my finger and licked it clean of her juices.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Yes.”

“To which?”

“No, don’t stop. Yes you can tie me up, tie me down, chain me to the wall and flog me. Whatever turns you on. Same rules though. Stop when I say stop and you have to be naked and fuck me afterwards.

I slowly rubbed my fingers gently up the length of her wet slit, circled around her clit and down again. Pausing to dip into the warm well of her honey, I continued the circuits.

“Can I watch you pee?”

“Yes, if I can watch you pee. Maybe we could do it together. Would you like me to piss over you?”

“Yes, if I can do the same to you.”

“How are we doing so far,” she said. “Not such a dull, boring, middle aged housewife as you thought, am I?”

I tightened the circles, centering on her clit.

“That is so good,” she wriggling. A warm flush had suffused her face and breasts, and she was breathing more heavily. I squeezed one of her nipples and then the other.”

“‘Can I show you off to other men?”

“In principal yes, but we have talk about who, were and how.”

I increased the speed of the circles on her clit and raked my fingernails gently across her nipples.

“Strangers on the internet?”

“Oh yes!” she moaned lifting her hips.

“Really?”

“Only if they couldn’t identify me or see my face. Maybe I could wear a mask. Oh that is so good.”

“Flashing some pictures to my mates down the pub?”

“Only the one’s I could trust not to blab.”

“A complete stranger?”

“In a photo or in the flesh?”

“Both”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t say no to going to a nudist beach, or making love somewhere we might be seen, provided there was no chance of getting arrested.”

I continued to pinch and rake her nipples with my left hand. With my right I gently strummed her clit, gliding the pad of my middle finger up and down over her erect little pleasure bud and dipping into the well of love-juice oozing from the deep, warm, fern clad glade between her gaping, pink labia. She moaned again, breathed a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

“Can I watch you with another woman?”

“If she can do to me what you’re doing to me.”

“I think I’d make a good lesbian. I like making you cum with my fingers and my tongue.”

That was true too. One of the great joys of making love with Margaret was to see her lying on her back with her legs apart and pulled up against her chest to display her parted sex. I was blissfully happy to lick and nibble and nip and suck on her labia, bury my tongue deep in her pussy and alternate between gently flicks and firm rasps across her clit.

“Would you really make love with a woman while I watched?”

“I’ve never been with a woman so not sure how I’d react. But I’m willing to try it.”

“Can I join in?”

“If she was here right now, the way you’ve got me so hot, then I’d just go with it. But we need to talk about precautions and commitment. I’m not having you run off with one of my friends.”

“That’s six,” I said. “Shall I keep going?”

She reached between her legs and took my hand, guiding it onto her clit and pushed my fingers into a circular motion.

“You’re going to finish me off now,” she said. “And while we’re in this mood I’m going to show you exactly how I like it.”

She saw the surprised look on my face.

“What do you think I do on those cold, lonely nights when you’re traveling? You can only read so many books”

She pressed my finger into her clit guiding it in tight circles around the bud, then changing to side to side, then back to circles. Repeating the pattern faster and harder as she rolled her head back, spread her legs wider and began to moan louder.

“Oooohhhhh! Give me your left hand,” she said.

She guided my left hand down to her clit.

“Keep doing what you have been doing with this hand, and put some fingers of your right hand inside me.”

I did as I was told, allowing her to control the fingers of my left hand while I slid two fingers into her pussy and hooked them round feeling for the front wall of her vagina.

“Ooohhh, Yes. Yes,” she moaned, pushing my fingers harder onto her clit and lifting her hips to take my other fingers deeper inside her.

Her moans came louder and faster, her face was flushed red, her eyes were screwed tightly shut and her mouth was wide and contorted with pleasure.

“Ooooohhhh! Ooooohhhh! Ooooohhhh, Yes! Yes! Yes!”

I felt the muscles of her vagina rippling and contracting against the fingers inside her. Her hips were bucking, forcing them deeper against her cervix and she was frantically frigging my fingers against her slit. Then her legs clamped over my hands and she was bucking and twisting, screaming and squealing, laughing and crying and calling out my name.

When she had recovered she gazed up at me with her hands behind her head while I stroked her breasts and belly.

“That wasn’t so bad now was it?” she said in a soft, dreamy voice.

“No it was wonderful.”

“I suppose you’ll want to fuck me know. I can feel your erection poking into my backside.”

“That would be nice, yes.”

“A cup of tea is nice. I think making love with your very beautiful and very sexy wife deserves a better adjective than that.”

“It would be fantastic.”

“Better. But before I open my legs and let you shoot all your hot sperm against my cervix, I’m going to ask you a question.”

“Anything.”

“I didn’t say no to the idea of me watching you with another woman. So … would you like to watch me with another man?”