It had been a long day, a VERY long day. I had called home around 6:30 to let my wife Miranda know not to hold dinner for me. There had been too many "held" dinners as it was, with Tupperware dishes filling the refrigerator from late evening phone calls of delay. I had begun to wonder if the high-paying job was even worth it. How long had it been since Miranda and I had even made love? Weeks at least. Though I did smile the last time I remembered we'd had a particularly erotic and wild session together. Discussing fantasies, even if we'd never actually act on them had always been a turn on for both of us.
As tired as I was, I found myself aroused thinking about her on the drive home from work. My wife had beautiful full breasts. I loved (as did she) the way my hands felt encircling them, kneading them like a contented cat. But it wasn't the image of those near perfect orbs that came to mind, but that seductive smile, that knowing look that she sometimes gave me. That look that said "I want you... I need you baby!" That's what was giving me a near painful erection at the moment. And once again I pondered the question, "How long had it been since I'd seen her look at me like that?"
I pulled into the semi-circular driveway of our home, most if not all of the lights were off, her car nowhere to be seen.
"Fuck!" I said dejectedly. "Well, what the hell should I expect?" answering the unasked question. I didn't expect to find her home, even as I called out her name upon entering, flicking on the living room light as though expecting her to jump up from behind the wall or something. Better yet, her head suddenly appearing from behind the couch, that knowing look, wearing that sexy black negligee I had bought her for Christmas several month's ago. "Yeah right," I thought once again as I tossed my jacket onto the back of that very same couch making my way into the kitchen area. First thing I spotted was a 'post-it' note on the refrigerator, our message system for one another whenever one or the other of us wasn't home. I was already reading it in my mind before reaching out to retrieve it.
"Mike, I've gone out to the movies with Darlene. Since you said you'd be working late, when she asked me if I wanted to go, I decided to do so rather than stay home waiting for you."
Or words to that affect anyway. So imagine my surprise when I actually read:
"Honey, I know how hard you've been working lately, and I've missed you. I should be home shortly. What I want you to do is to go up stairs, read the second note I left for you on the mirror, do what it says, and wait for me, love... Miranda."
I was grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat as I ascended the stairs towards the bedroom. As promised, I spotted her bright orange post-it clinging curiously on the bedroom mirror of her vanity. Like some sort of scavenger hunt, I made my way across the room half expecting her to jump out of the closet, once again the image of her in that black laced nightgown coming to mind.
"Get naked, lie down on the bed, put your headset on and wait for me to call," her note said.
"Hmmm," I thought pleasantly. "What's my sexy, horny little wife up to anyway?" Whatever it was, all thought of being tired, grumpy and less than enthusiastic for sex suddenly evaporated like dry ice on a hot summers day.
Her timing was perfect. No sooner had I inserted the earpiece for my mobile phone, she called.
"Hi baby, you naked and waiting for me?" she asked.
"Ah huh," I responded feeling a bit giddy, more excited than I had been in weeks, already sporting a very proud and magnificent erection.
"Good," she cooed, and I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was as excited as I was, if not more so. "Now, reach beneath the pillow, I want you to put on the sleeping mask, turn off the bedroom lights. When I can see that you've done that, wait for me. Oh... but keep your earpiece on," she instructed.
I was getting more and more excited by the minute. It had been a long time since we'd been "adventurous" too. I thought to myself. Whatever she was up to, I was all for it, already imagining all sorts of things, though just being blind-folded waiting to find out what she was planning on doing to me was enough.
There I was lying atop of our bed, naked, blindfolded and now in the dark. Minutes later I heard the soft patter of bare feet crossing the bedroom floor. I thought about saying something, then decided to wait. Whatever game Miranda was playing, I suddenly had a sixth sense about keeping my mouth shut until spoken to. Sure enough, she made no sound, no comment beyond her approach and the sudden touch of her hands upon my wrist as she wrapped one of her silk scarves around it, securing it to the bedpost. I waited patiently, expectantly as she secured the other, then both feet as well until I was lying there spread-eagled, totally at her mercy.
I was still grinning, though silently.
I felt her hand lightly, intimately caress my cock, "all too briefly" I thought as it quickly slipped away, the distinct sound of the light-switch being turned on, then off. My phone rang. Confused, bewildered I voice activated it's answering by simply saying hello.
She spoke, but not from the room, her voice coming clearly through the headset as once again soft hands began to gently begin running themselves up and down my legs reaching up to caress the tender, almost ticklish spot of my upper thigh.
"Hi baby," she purred into my earpiece.
"Miranda?" I spoke once again, a slight edge of confused irritation coming through, though she quickly interrupted me.
"Just listen to me honey, and do what I tell you," she spoke in an authoritive tone of voice that I rarely if ever heard her use before.
"Ok," I responded back softly now. Though it was perhaps that pair of hands that were now gently stroking up and down the entire length of my rock-hard cock that had that unexpected calming affect, though the arousement level was off the charts.
"Tell me exactly what it is she's doing to you now," Miranda asked me over the phone.
"She?" I thought to myself wondering. "She!" Fuck, there was a she stroking my cock, someone that Miranda had somehow convinced into going along with this. "Darlene?" I asked both into the phone as well as the room.
"Nice try," Miranda answered for both of them, whoever the other 'she' was, though 'she' neither confirmed nor denied my inquiry. "But quit trying to figure out who it is, and do what I asked you to do, unless you'd like her to quit touching you, and just leave you there," Miranda warned me.
"Ah, ok," I stammered into the phone, though still wondering.
"Better. Now, tell me exactly, word for word what it is that she's doing to you."
"Well, she's stroking my cock," I said feeling her soft hands gliding up and down my rapidly slickening shaft.
"You'll have to do better than that Mike, if you want this to continue anyway. You have to make me horny enough listening to you to come there. If not, then all this goes away," she warned me once again.
Whoever 'she' was, she began working her fingers on me in some really unique and delightful little ways.
"Oh fuck, she's... she's twisting the head of my prick with her fingers, sort of pinching it a little, now she's turning it like a door-knob."
I heard Miranda laugh. "That's better. Now I'm getting interested," she added. "Go on..."
"Well, now she's running two fingers up and down the shaft, slowly... barely touching it, still sliding down, oh... now up, fuck, that's nice!" I said into the phone, still curious as to who was doing this, but now no longer caring really. The unique little sensations she was causing was driving me nuts enough all by themselves, not to mention wondering where the hell my wife was, and that she was obviously getting off on listening to this.
"Go on..." she prompted.
"Now she's twisting the shaft, using both hands, one going in one direction, the other hand twisting it in the other. Letting go now, now twisting it again, letting go."
For several long minutes I continued to state specifically over the phone the varying sensations, the techniques she was using on me to pleasure and tease me with. I was still speaking when I once again heard the sound of footsteps entering the bedroom.
"Now I'm horny!" I heard Miranda saying.
"You're horny!" I said still speaking into the phone as though expecting her to answer me through it. She laughed, the feel of her hand removing the earpiece, the touch of her lips fleetingly on mine for a moment before moving off. Then the added sensation of her hands joining those of the woman who'd been driving me crazy with wonder and delight for the past half an hour. Though it could have been an eternity for all I knew.
I was so electrified with desire and want that I damn near came the moment I felt a pair of lips suddenly encircling the head of my cock, gently sucking it. "But whose lips?" I wondered silently.
Feeling a second tongue now running itself up and down the length of my shaft while the head of my prick was being knobbed joyously was driving me insane! "Oh fuck!" I moaned unabashedly.
"You like?" Miranda asked. It had been her tongue running laps literally up and down my shaft. My cock was still being sweetly sucked, though now it became obvious to me that the two of them had traded places in a manner of speaking, as lips now nibbled along both sides of my prick, tongues dancing, fencing one another with my steely-shafted cock sandwiched somewhere in between.
In my mind, I could clearly see the two of them, oddly, Darlene's image taking over for the still unknown, unseen personage of the second pair of lips now chewing, nipping, then once again licking the super-sensitive head of my penis.
I felt movement, the sudden withdrawal of those incredible tongues moving away. Seconds later I could hear the soft whimpering moans of my wife, moans I was all too familiar with.
By way of an answer, she merely moaned once again, though speaking a second or so after that.
"You know what she's doing to me Mike?" Miranda asked. "She's sucking my tits," she answered before I could ask her.
Once again I could see that. I could see the hardness of my wife's yearning nipples. I could see them all puckered and tight, those stiff little 'clit-nubs' as I called them, swollen, aching and in obvious need.
"Fuck," I moaned softly, my hand subconsciously moving as though to stroke my still aching cock, alerting me in an instant that it couldn't. "Fuck!" I spoke once again, though this time in frustration.
A gentle laugh, not Miranda's, but not enough to tell me who it was either.
"You know how I like it when you flick your tongue back and forth against them?" she asked.
"Well, she's doing that now, to my left nipple. Her fingers have got my right nipple pinched between them, and she's rolling it back and forth, still pinching, pulling as she's now sucking me," Miranda continued on, now giving me a blow-by-blow description of what exactly was taking place. "But you know what?" she now asked me directly.
"I think I need both nipple's sucked on," she said with a sense of conclusion. "Yep, I need both tits being sucked on," she stated.
Once again the sound of movement, then I felt the press of soft flesh against my mouth, my lips hungrily, needfully finding that hard extended nipple, drawing it in.
"That's it honey, suck her titty the way you like sucking mine," Miranda told me.
"What?" I said around a mouth full of breast, but continued sucking anyway, as the realization of that sunk more fully in.
Only for a moment or two longer however, as movement, then adjustments made me realize I was now being offered my wife's breast, taking it in kind, now sucking it as the presence of another, close by obviously, began devouring her second breast.
"Fuck!" Miranda moaned audibly. "That's nice... really, really nice!"
I lost track of how long I spent in 'titty-heaven' but sudden movement, along with my wife's breast suddenly being taken from me, left me mouthing for it like a hungry baby losing its source. Once again however, the soft pulling tug of lips upon my shaft had my head melting into the pillow like a marshmallow in hot chocolate. And as I melted, I felt movement, then a presence, and then the sweet smelling aroma of fresh tasty cunt assailing my nostrils. I lunged. My tongue quickly spearing the sweet folds of pussy flesh, the tantalizing drip of pearly fluid quickly coating my tongue as I ran it like a gentle feather up and down the silken folds of tender flesh.
"Ohhhh," came the soft gentle moan. Once again, not Miranda, though so lost in my own fantasy delusions that I'd been unprepared for it, and thus unable to even try to guess as to who it might be.