After-dinner Extravaganza
My wife controls absolutely everything in our marriage – especially our sex life. She sternly decides when, where, how, and how often we fuck down to the last detail.
It’s not that she’s any kind of dominatrix or anything. She doesn’t tie me up, torture me or beat me – aside from some incidental slapping and spanking. It’s just that she insists upon absolute obedience, all of the time. As long as I let her make every single decision, and completely submit to her marital rule, she’s unfailingly easy to get along with. Any attempt to assert myself however, and she immediately turns into such a nasty, frigid, verbally abusive bitch that it’s unbelievable. Since she’s very rich, lovely beyond description and the perfect partner as long as she gets her way, I’m happy to let her have it. I don’t mind doing all the housework and constantly catering to her every whim. And really, I find the spontaneity, unpredictability, and insatiability of her passionate desires wildly exciting in any case. Even the sense of powerlessness I experience in being made to so lavishly, slavishly service and submit to her upon demand is cravenly compelling for me. I’ve come to enjoy our admittedly strange love-making as much or more than she does. Just yesterday evening she surprised me in the kitchen as I was doing the after-dinner dishes. For the rest of the night she enjoyed me so extravagantly that my body is still aching and my head still spinning.
“Take off that apron, you ridiculously silly sissy!” she suddenly commanded. “In fact, strip to your skin! I’m going to use you now!”
Startled I spun around. I hadn’t heard her come in, and for good reason. Alice was completely naked, her bare feet soundless on marble floor. She’d even managed to climb onto the huge, sturdy oak table without alerting me.
Perched on the edge, with her long tanned legs splayed so high and wide that her heels found purchase too, she was leaning back with her arms propped behind her on the polished, gleaming surface. Her exposed crotch was shaved and trimmed to a narrow arrow of hair, and her pussy opened invitingly up like a delectable little flower. Her breasts, modest C-cups that are nevertheless perfectly round and upswept, rode high on her chest, the little red nipples enticingly erect. That always shimmering banner of dark blonde hair swept straight back from her clear high forehead to hang down her back and brush the table. Always haughty and proud, her beautiful features had that imperious cast I’ve come to know so well, the pale blue eyes flashing with demanding need.
Right away I dried my hands and began fumbling with the apron strings, and right away she corrected me.
“Not like that – do a strip-tease. Put on a sexy show for me! When you’re done I want you standing at attention right in front of me.”
This was a novel requirement. Nevertheless I was up to it. Swaying and gyrating, I slowly, gracefully stripped, slinking my way forward as I did until I stood up properly straight and attentive with my always obedient erection inches from her opening.
“Good boy.” She gave a sharp nod of approval. “Now use your left hand to play with your left nipple while you masturbate with the right.”
Dutifully I did as I was told: rubbing, pinching and pulling on my tit while I slowly pumped myself with the other.
I was taking no chances – naturally I’m never allowed to come without permission. But Alice wasn’t going to make it that easy for me.
“Faster, boy! I told you I want a floor show. Feast your eyes on my tits and pussy and jack your cock like crazy. I want you panting with lust and struggling to control your disgusting male needs within a minute!”
So I did, and so I was. In truth, I usually find it difficult to climax standing up. Still, feasting my eyes as ordered and beating off like mad – and twisting my tit until it screamed – soon had me sweating, breathing heavily, and flushed with exertion.
“Look at you! You’re blushing. Are you ashamed to be playing with yourself in f
