There's something very sexy about a girlfriend, wife even that will do anything you want. I'm not talking about giving you a blow job when you want, I talking about anything at anytime.
I met my wife, Barbra, when she was a sexy seventeen-year-old virgin. Pretty elfin face with a nice, if a bit overweight body. It wasn't long before I popped her cherry and we became engaged. It was at this time that she went on a diet and lost those few pounds that she need.
We got married a year later right out of college and settled down to married life. We were both working so money was ok and we could enjoy ourselves. Things were normal I suppose until we started playing bedroom games, you know dressing up or play acting out sexy roles. As soon as she played a subservient roll she had one of her best orgasm she had ever had. From now on, if I wanted to have a good time in bed all I had to do was play the dominate roll and order her about, tell her about all the disgusting things I was going to make her do. It was a real eye opener; she would have orgasm after orgasm with my hard cock deep within her writhing body.
Came the time when I wanted to take our role play out of the bedroom and into the light of the real world. At first it was just little things like telling her to leave her bra off when we went out, even to the shops, especially just to the shops for this was very normal activity and here she was being sexy. Now Barbra is not that big up top, somewhere between a 'B' and a 'C' cup but on her now trim body they are noticeable. She doesn't need to wear a bra for she was very firm although she always did. I don't suppose anybody noticed her braless state as we trolled around Tesco's shelves but she and I knew and that made it sexy.
More and more I would tell her what to wear, even around the house and around the house was where you can have a lot of sexy fun. At first it was as simple as. "Don't bother to get completely dressed after your bath dear," I would suggest, "just put on something like one of my shirts, with just a small pair of knickers underneath."
With just the two of us there things are fine but just wait until the front door bell rings and someone has to answer it and she just knew you are going to make her do it. So the delivery boy got a good look at her exposed legs, no big deal really for she has exposed more than that at the beach. But that's the point this wasn't the beach but our front door step. Later in bed I would tell her that next time she must leave most of the buttons undone and show the poor boy a good look at her tits. Talking like this would bring her off in no time flat leaving her body spent and limp. It was weeks before I brought it up again and made her dress to show her tits off and then many days after that before the front door bell rang so that she had to answer the door, this time to the Gasman. I've heard that being a Gasman or other such utilities person often bring about good sightings like that but this was her first real adventure.
I sat on the sofa waiting for her to come back and when she did she was breathless.
"Oh my God," she said, "I don't believe I just did that."
"Tell me all about it?" I asked.
She spread out on the sofa next to me, putting her head in my lap and stretching her legs out. Between the gap in her unbuttoned shirt I pushed my hand inside and cupped one of her beautiful tits.
"God he must have been fifty or even older," she whispered as if the neighbours could hear.
"So?" I nudged.
"Yes well he looked at me, you know at my bust and he smiled," she said, "then he said he wanted to look at my meter and I just laughed, which as you can imagine didn't help any. Then the cheeky bugger said that he could think of better things to look at."
Well the meter was in the hallway so she must have let him in to read it.
"Anything else happen?" I asked.
"No not really," she said, "but on his way out he did squeeze past me a bit."
Although this guy could in no way be considered sexy he was involved in a sexy situation with her and I used him for many nights there after. Saying things like, he had pushed his hand inside her shirt or pushed her up against the wall and kissed her. From then on she stopped wearing a bra and only wore one to work.
Our bedroom fantasies were becoming bolder and more disgusting while real life lagged behind mostly because both or us were more than a little scared. I could see where this was all leading and that one day some other man would fuck my faithful wife. Did I want that, did I want to watch my wife being speared by some nameless guy or two or even more. In our bedroom the answer was yes and the same was for her too, but in real life things are never that simple. Once done it could never be undone, if I didn't like it I would have to live with those images forever. In our fantasies things could be played out in safety. Trouble was, we were both on a train and it was difficult to get off and with each station along the track it became even more difficult.
One night after a very good session, I was trying to come to terms with my feeling. My wife was now asleep and I sat up and looked down at her naked body; she always slept naked now. It wasn't just the sex, I rationalized, although fucking great, it was the control I had over her. I could make her do anything I wanted, at first she might baulk a bit but as time went on she just did it. When I had collated all that in my mind then it no longer matter if she fucked this guy or that, the point was she was doing it because I told her to.
Things changed after that night, I still loved her to bits but as long as she was doing something that I told her to do, how could I be jealous. Now I could show pictures I had taken of her to my friends at work, some were of her topless on the beach or in a bikini in our back garden. All the time now I was looking for that right guy to be the first to fuck her. In the end I decided it wouldn't be someone we both knew but we would go for a complete stranger. I didn't want to rush it though for I feel the wait and anticipation were half the fun of anything.
.... There is more of this story ...