Friday, July 06, 2007

Can you see any reason why I should stop?

We have been married for 27 years, and we have been very happy for all those years. Our marriage is very close, and my wife, Heather, is my best friend, lover and mistress as well as my spouse. Just recently though, the mistress side has taken an extra turn which has made it tantalising and exciting and brought a different interpretation to the word "mistress" than the one it had before.

It started about two years ago, when I recognised that some of the really high erotic feelings that I had experienced at odd times over our marriage had been stimulated by my wife being dominant with me. These few occasions, about once every year or so, had been when she had encouraged me to make love to her to her satisfaction, and then she had pushed me away and contentedly turned herself over to sleep leaving me high, dry, frustrated and feeling highly sexually charged. I had loved the feeling, which had left me on a real sexual high until she eventually let me make love to her again the next day (or even more sexually excitingly) the day after. Usually this "denial" happened when she was rather drunk, when her instincts rather than her upbringing were in charge.

One weekend break in France, while we were making love on the first evening (Saturday) before going to dinner, our love making was interrupted in the hotel just after she achieved her orgasm, but before I had had mine, and we decided to wait until later to "finish me off". We ended up back from dinner very late, so "finishing me off" was put on hold until the morning, and then we woke up so late that there wasn't time before the restaurant closed for breakfast, so it was put on hold again until the evening. That evening, Heather got quite drunk over dinner, and when we did end up in bed she did her trick of pushing me out after her own orgasm and falling straight asleep again. That was two nights without relief; but the worse part was that the following morning, Monday, she had to fly back to England early to go to work while I stayed on working in our Paris office for the week. By the end of the week I was desperate for relief, but some kind of trigger had flipped inside of me that week that made me want not to masturbate for relief, but wait to make love to Heather when we got back together. The Friday night was explosive, and afterwards as I lay wide awake not quite understanding why the whole sexual experience should be reminiscent of my 17 year old excitement. I realised that my wife's denial and unintentional tease had been the power behind the experience.

Over the next year, I slowly experimented with this radical discovery. I talked to my wife about it, but she didn't really understand, and her upbringing led her to internal denial that she could be, as she put it, "a prick teaser". I was guilty of pushing her too hard and she later told me that my intensity had frightened her, and it was just as well that I instinctively backed off. I did not want to hurt our relationship, but I was sure that I had seen signs of her enjoying some aspects of being dominant, especially when her barriers were down, such as when she was a little drunk, and I had certainly got a real thrill out of it when she had been,

I slowly realised that as I persuaded her that I actually really wanted to be left a bit frustrated and that I should focus on her pleasure and not enter her, her own orgasms were much quicker to reach and far stronger and long lasting than when I was pounding away inside her. She would however, after two or three such love making sessions believe that I "must be feeling very frustrated" and would insist that I finish off inside her. I could, I suppose, have finished myself off with a hand job, but I found that forcing myself to wait until Heather was wanting to accommodate me gave me a real tease and denial thrill. One thing I did notice was that we ended up making love much more often now that sex was almost solely about her pleasure, and our average love making rose to four or five times a week from the one or two that it had been in the past few years.

Now, two years later, we had reached a point where she accepted that I get a thrill out of being denied by her, as long as it is accompanied by the tease of her making me either make love to her without cumming myself, or else watching her use her favourite vibrator on herself. The kind of joke-y understanding is that I am "her sex slave", and will pleasure her in whatever way she requires, but in fact most of the time what she wants is for me to caress and stimulate her in her favourite erotic places while she uses her vibrator. She has the right to require the use of my cock inside her if she wants, and until recently she would decide that she required that service most weeks at some time or another. The longest I went without was three weeks, and the most orgasms she had between my having any at was 10. However, I still often felt that she mostly preferred not having to accommodate me, and the "use of my cock" was more out of concern for me, than a genuine desire on her part to have me inside her. That was the balance we had reached until six weeks ago, which, as you will hear shortly, has now changed.

I think that gives you most of the background, except to say that I do a fair amount of travelling, and about a year ago I introduced my wife to the idea that as "her sex slave" should be made to be chaste when I was away from her. I suggested the use of a CB3000 but she was very unconvinced, and said that if I wanted to remain chaste then that was my affair, but that she was not interested in the CB3000 whatsoever. However, I bought a CB3000, and as much for my own perverse benefit as anything I would wear it when I was away from home. That led to some interesting experiences in itself, but I remained chaste [see my other story "I know there's no point in trying"].

I told my wife that I was using the CB3000 (although not about the experiences), and she accepted it as "one of my daft foibles", and accepted that I would use it if I wanted to, but as far as she was concerned there was no need to and in any case she "didn't want to see me in it!"

Now, I think my wife is one of the most attractive and sexy women for her age that I know. As I said, we have been married for 27 years, and we weren't that young when we married, so I will leave you to do the arithmetic. She still has almost the same figure that she had when we married, and can in fact still get into her wedding dress. She is a little rounder on the hips, which actually makes her, if anything, slightly more feminine than she was. She also has recently cut her hair short, which really suits her, and makes her so striking that I sometimes fantasise about her in high heels, tights and bra and pants in a dominant posture.

However, one thing bugs me, and that is that she would never believe me when I told her how sexy she was, and she would always laugh it off by saying that "I was biased" - which may be true but that doesn't mean she isn't sexy.

I work pretty hard, and am often away on trips, and even more often back home late in the evening, and since our kids left home, my wife has taken up a number of clubs, societies and charity work to fill her evenings. More than once when I have gone along to a social evening where partners are invited, I have noticed the way that some of the men in her groups look at her, some of them considerably younger than she is. I was not surprised, as I felt that my attention to her sexual needs and the far more frequent love making was making her ouse sexuality. I told her that some of the men fancied her, but she would not believe it, and so I started to try and persuade her to flirt and even date one or other of them just to prove to her that she is attractive and sexy and that it is not just me that thinks so.

She got annoyed with me encouraging her, saying that she believed in faithfulness in marriage and would, as she put it, "cut my balls off if ever she found that I had made love to another woman". However, I did notice that at times she would be randier than normal as we started to make love after I had been talking about other men fancying her or suggesting she might just enjoy trying another man out, especially as she was a virgin when we married.

One of her favourite limericks is the one:

A crusader's wife from the garrison,

Had an affair with a Saracen

She was not oversexed

Or frustrated, or vexed

She just wanted to make a comparison.

Which I always felt was her favourite because it caught her imagination.

Anyway, on to the present.

Six weeks ago, I was away on a 10 day trip to the USA, starting on the east coast and then flying on the Friday night to San Francisco, where I planned on having a weekend in the city before spending the following week in Silicon Valley. I have a lot of flexibility about when I go on these trips, and had deliberately chosen to be away on a weekend when I knew my wife was involved in one of her group things.

As usual, I had put my CB3000 on before leaving home and had put one of the plastic numbered tags on to secure it, which mean that I can wear it through the security scanner at the airport without the padlock setting off the alarms. We had made love on the Saturday, Sunday and Monday morning before I left for the airport, and she had uncharacteristically left me high and dry on all three occasions. She usually wants me to give me a proper seeing to before I go away for a few days, out of concern about me being frustrated. So this time I was already quite horny before I started, and the constant rubbing of the CB3000 and the 4am erections were taking their self inflicted toll.

This weekend, I knew my wife was going to be away with the choir that she sings with for the whole weekend recording a CD. That meant leaving on the Friday morning, rehearsing on Friday afternoon and all day Saturday and then recording the CD on the Sunday. No point in me going with her as I wouldn't see anything of her, and actually a sensible time for me to do one of my bi-annual trips to the USA as she would not have time to miss me either.

As usual, I phoned her regularly, and so I was surprised when mid afternoon on the Saturday, late evening for her, I got an unexpected mobile phone call from her.

"Where are you", she asked.

"Just wandering around Fisherman's Wharf", I replied.

"Are you near your hotel", she asked, and then on hearing my affirmative answer said, "Then please go to your room and call me back".

I hurried to the hotel, concerned that there was some serious problem that she needed me to be in private in my room to hear, and then I called her back.

"Have you got your thing on?" she asked.

Guessing what she meant, I replied, hesitantly, that I had. She said "How do I know that you have?"

After thinking for a moment, I told her about the security tag and the number on it. "Right", she said, "drop your pants and take a photo of it on you and e-mail it to me at home and make sure I can read the security tag number on the photo".

At this point I was bewildered, as she had shown only negative interest in the CB3000 up to now, and I was at a complete loss as to what was going on.

"Why? What is the matter? What is going on?" I started to ask.

"Just do it right now!" she snapped, "and call me back when you've done it".

Her sharpness took me by complete surprise, and so I did just as she asked. It took me about a quarter of an hour to take a photo of my now throbbing cock in his cage, fire up my laptop and e-mail the photo to her, wondering all the time what was going on - after all it was around 11pm in England. Then I called her back.

"You took your time", she said, "now give me the number over the phone as well".

"What on earth is going on", I asked, after dropping my pants yet again and reading her the number.

"Well, you have been pestering me for months to take a lover, and this evening one of the men in the choir made a pass at me, and I felt flattered and quite enjoyed it. And then I thought that as I hadn't had a cock in me for two weeks and I fancy one, and since you aren't here and he is, and since you keep saying you want me to try another cock, well 'why not' and so I am going to spend the night with him in his hotel room. He is currently waiting for me down in the bar, and we have both had a good few drinks! But, as I said to you, I don't want you going with another woman and I will cut your balls off if you do, so I am making damned sure you are locked up - and that tag had better still be on you when you get home and the number you have given me and the number on the photo that I had better find in my inbox when I get home had better match that number."

"Now do you have a problem with that?"

Although my mind was rebelling, the throbbing cock trying to break out of the CB3000 was giving me such a different message that all I could croak out was "No, darling, enjoy yourself" and just made out her "Thank you, I think I will", as she disconnected.

Never, in my wildest dreams or nightmares even, had I imagined that Heather actually would do what I had been encouraging her to do. I realised as I lay on the bed with a throbbing cock in a fair amount of pain in my CB3000, that I had in fact been teasing her, and now I was reaping the result. I couldn't do anything to stop it, I was 6000 miles away. In any case, I could hardly call "foul" as she was only doing what I had urged her to do for nigh on the last two years.

I must have at that point disappeared into what I have heard referred to as subspace, where I lay on my bed in the hotel fantasising about what might be going on, with my cock ousing pre-cum continuously.

Four hours passed, and I hardly noticed them, and then I was startled by my mobile phone ringing. The screen said Heather, and I grabbed it and answered in a croak, "Hello".

"Are you OK", said Heather.

"Yes, No, I don't know. Are you still a virgin? Did you? Didn't you? Are you OK. Did you use protection? Are you sore? Oh shit! Do you still love me?" I babbled down the phone.

"No. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. And more than ever. I think that's right!" laughed Heather.

As we talked, I felt so erotically charged, and so, so much in love with my lovely wife. She told me in outline about what had happened, and promised that she would give me the "gory details when we are snuggled up together, when you get back, if that is what you want". What she would not tell me is who it was that she had bedded!

It was now, she pointed out, after 4am in the morning, and she had just got back to her room and she intended now to go to bed, as they had a full day's singing to do on the Sunday. So, I would have to wait until the following weekend when I was back home to hear the full story.

"Will you be making love to him again", I asked.

She replied that this was only possible because they were away from home, and that since they were all going back home the following evening, and she had no intention of making it something "clandestine and tacky" back home, that the answer was almost definitely "No!".

I experienced a mixture of relief and disappointment at that!

The rest of my week away was normal and successful, as far as my notes from work tell me, but I can not remember anything except having an almost permanent semi-erection in my CB3000, and leaking pre-cum continuously in anticipation of seeing Heather the following Saturday afternoon when she was to meet me off my flight from San Francisco.

All through the week, whenever I called Heather, I asked her for more details but she would only cover our usual subjects and refused to be drawn. I began to think that her "affair" was a fabrication and towards the end of the week I told her so. Her initial response was to chuckle meaningfully, but by the Thursday night, when I spoke to her just before she went to choir practise, she was getting annoyed with me for doubting her and said that when I saw her on Saturday she "had a good mind to prove it to me".

Horror upon horrors, I was selected for a full search at the airport on departure, and ended up in a real cold sweat as they patted me down. Fortunately, they did not pat me where they could have felt the CB3000, but I was shaking badly as I boarded the 747 and was very grateful to be on the quiet upper deck, where I could snuggle under a blanket and toss and turn on the British Airways flat bed as the whole week crowded into the 3½" of space in the CB3000!

Heather met me coming out of Customs at Terminal 1 at Heathrow, and I was somehow surprised that she looked almost exactly the same as before. Somehow in my mind I was expecting her to have changed.

Heather drove us home, and there was a certain extra confidence in her demeanour as she drove and talked to me.

When we got home, I unpacked my bags and then went for a shower to freshen up, and was surprised to find Heather naked in bed as I returned into the bedroom. I hastily covered up the CB3000, as she had always said she didn't want to see it and I hadn't taken it off yet. I had been about to as I got in the shower, but then remembered that Heather had wanted to check the security tag.

"Come here", she demanded, "and let me see this thing".

Nervously I stood next to her and lowered the towel.

"It's not as awful as I expected", she said and reached over and tugged at it, making me wince.

"Let's see the tag", she said, and checked the number against a piece of paper that she had written the number on.

"Good boy", she said. "For that, you can have a special treat. Get into bed with me."

Thinking that I was about to get the treat of making love to her, I started to work at breaking the seal.

"No", she said, "I didn't tell you to take it off yet, I just said get into bed".

I duly complied, whereupon she requested that I start my usual routine of caressing her ultra sensitive nipples while she got her favourite vibrator out.

I started to protest, but she then replied that I should "feel her".

I did, and found her to be very wet indeed, and rather more grainy wetness than normal.

"Does that feel any different", she asked?

When I said that it was, she told me "That's because I am full of cum, and far too sore for you to come in at the moment, and if you don't like it, then it is all your own fault."

"You virtually called me a liar about last weekend, and so I arranged for my friend (her words) to give me another seeing to this morning on the way to the airport, just so that you could see, smell and feel and believe. I hadn't intended to let the affair continue, but you really pissed me off about it".

And so saying, she started to orgasm, with her vagina muscles squeezing my probing fingers as she did so.

"You can damned well stay in that device until you have apologised to my satisfaction", she finally gasped as her orgasm subsided.

Apologies and some silver earrings and a bra and pants set from Victoria's Secret in San Francisco resulted in pity being taken on me on the Sunday afternoon, and as we lay in bed in the afterglow she told me the rest of the story. She still refused to tell me who it is, although as you will see from later on in the story, I guess I'm bound to find out sooner or later. Actually, not knowing adds a bit of extra excitement to me, although I rather think that Heather is keeping it secret because it is all a bit personal with her and a separate part of her life rather than an intent to titillate me more!

She had gone back down to the bar, where her "friend" had been waiting. He had told her his room number and then announced that he was "off to bed". Heather had waited ten minutes and then also said she was going to bed, and had gone rather shakily to his room, where she had found that he had thoughtfully left the door ajar so she didn't have to knock and risk being seen obviously going into someone else's room by anyone else in the choir.

When she arrived, she found he had a bottle of Champagne on ice waiting for her and although she actually doesn't like Champagne, it had made the whole thing feel romantic and not cheap and nasty as she had feared.

It was the first new man she had made love to in twenty years (she had one other experience when our kids were small - see "The Whole Way - It's OK"), so she was very nervous and found herself shaking. He had realised, and took her very gently by the shoulders and started kissing her neck and stroking her back. He had been so gentle that she had started to relax, and when he started to caress her very sensitive nipples, she had turned her face up to him and they had started kissing.

Heather has always said that I kiss "too sloppily", and she rarely kisses me. She said that she had really enjoyed his kissing, and that she had quite forgotten how sexy kissing can be, which rather hurt me.

He undressed her slowly, and then stood back and whistled at her, saying that he had always found her sexy but was amazed at how slim, trim and sexy she really was in the flesh. While she watched him, he undressed himself, and as he stepped out of his undershorts, she realised that he had a really long and thin uncircumcised penis. Heather has always had a fantasy about uncircumcised penises, ever since her one and only extramarital experience, which was also with an uncircumcised lad. Remembering what had happened that previous time, she had once more dropped to her knees and started to lick his cock, and before long he had said he was in danger of cumming, so he pushed her back on the bed and started returning the complement. That also hurt me, as I love licking Heather's cunt, but she has not let me do it for years, saying that my beard irritates her thighs and distracts her from enjoying it. That fact enabled me to eliminate some of the men in the choir who have beards, and put a question mark over the couple with moustaches.

Their love making had been slow and gentle. His penis, she said, felt so different from mine. More like a long finger, so it didn't feel as uncomfortable as mine, and she was so hot that he had been able to make her cum on the movement of his cock in her without any other manual (or vibrator) stimulation of her clit which she nearly always needs with me. As she came, he had emptied his balls into her before she had even thought of protection. I was given the snip many years before (also part of the other story) so she hadn't given it much thought. She realised that since she hadn't had a period for some time she would hardly be likely to get pregnant, and she didn't feel he was the kind of person to sleep around. In fact, she said, that as they talked he had told her that she was the only person he had made love to since he had lost his own wife some years previously. As at least half the men in her choir are either widowers or have split with their wives, that piece of information, together with the beard, helps cut down the list even further. But frustratingly it still leaves four or five clean shaven singles!

They had lain together after making love for a while, and then drifted to sleep. She had been awakened only an hour later by him stroking one nipple with one hand and her clit with the other hand and sucking her other nipple, and was amazed to find herself hot for another go at love making. She has rarely wanted to make love more than once a day since we were first married, and certainly has not done so with me for years.

After they had both cum again, she had got up and gone back to her own room, from where she had called me.

"Was he a better lover than me", I foolishly asked. "Sexier (ouch!), but ours has a loving which was missing (phew!)", she replied.

"And what about yesterday (Saturday) morning", I asked.

"That was quite different", she answered.

She said that when she had asked him on Thursday night after choir practise if he would like a re-run on Saturday morning, that he had been surprised about it, as he thought they had agreed it was a one night stand. As they walked to the pub with the rest of the choir, she told him about her plan to meet me and present me with incontrovertible evidence of her infidelity. He replied that he would have rather it was because she wanted him, but that he wasn't going to turn down the offer. Heather reassured him that even though she wanted to get at me, there was no way she would be making the offer if she hadn't enjoyed making love with him, and so honour was restored.

When she had arrived at his house, he had curtly told her that since this was for business rather than pleasure that she should go straight to his bedroom and strip and lie on the bed. He would be up shortly to provide her with what she needed. She had been surprised at his behaviour, and a little hurt, but had found herself getting quite turned on by his roughness and had done as he had asked. She had lain on the bed, waiting for him, and when he seemed to take a long time to appear, she found herself continuing to get turned on, and started to stroke her clit with her eyes closed,. She had jumped when she heard him tell her to "go on, play with yourself, give me a good show" and realised that he was standing at the bottom of the bed watching her and he was still fully dressed. She found it off putting, but after a while she closed her eyes and ignored him and her clit started to respond again and she started to get quite aroused and wet. She had almost forgotten about him altogether when she then realised that he had undressed and with no warning had climbed on top of her and was thrusting in to her. The rawness of the situation had made her cum almost immediately, and she had just kept cumming for ages until he finally emptied himself into her.

Afterwards, he had been as pleasant as he had been the previous week and she realised that he had been deliberately provocative to give variety, and was a bit ashamed that she had responded as he had intended. She then reminded me of a time, when before we were married, that I had let myself into her flat one night and climbed into bed with her and had "almost raped her" as she put it, and how much she had also responded to me and fondly remembered that occasion.

"Perhaps, we should try to be a bit more adventurous", she observed.

Knowing that she was going to the airport to meet me, he had offered her a shower to "remove the evidence", but she had refused. He laughed as he realised that she was really serious in her intent on presenting me with the evidence and told her "You really are a sexy little vixen, aren't you" (confirming what I had been saying to her for years!). As they lay together he put her hand on his cock and encouraged her to stroke him back to hardness, saying, "Let's add a bit more to that load for him to find, shall we" and she had amazed herself by not only agreeing but also in fact cumming herself again as he deposited a second load.

"Are you going to see him again", I asked yet again, nervously.

I felt distinctly nervous as she took her time thinking, and realised that I had very different emotions pulling me to want her to say "Yes" and wanting her to say "No".

"Yes, I think so", she eventually said, "It seems as though not only am I capable of coming much more than I have for years, possibly even more than when we first got together, but also I am keeping two men fully satisfied too. I still love you and you still love me, and there is no threat to that. When I want the occasional penis in me, I can have his, which is much more comfortable and therefore exciting than yours. And when I just feel sexy but don't want a penis in me at all, which is after all the majority of the time, then you as my 'Sex Slave' can have that job".

"So can you see any reason why I should stop?"

My throbbing cock insisted that I couldn't see any good reason why not either.

That was six weeks ago, and true to her word, my role as her "Sex Slave" has intensified. Since the day after I came back from San Francisco I have only been allowed to come in her once and her expression of discomfort was tangible. She has taken to checking that I have my CB3000 installed before I go away on trips, and she usually tells me on at least one night each time I am away that she "will be meeting her friend for a drink - is that OK?", which is her polite way of saying that she wants a cock inside her. I still don't know who her "friend" is, but bet they will give themselves away the next time there is a choir social event that I go to with Heather.

I suppose after all my cajoling her to prove her sexuality, I have no one else to blame but myself, but I have never felt more sexually charged than am at present, aroused nearly 24 hours every d now. My trips abroad, instead of being a bit of a sexual wilderness have become sexually very erotic.

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