Turnabout Pt. 06

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Turnabout — Part 6

Back in August, had someone predicted that in over the next three months my wife and I would experience a major dynamic shift between the two of us, it would have sounded absurd.

I would have found it quite improbable that one little thing — a reunion of sorts — would ultimately provoke such extreme alterations in both of our personalities. Causing our relationship to become all turned about and topsy-turvy… but also REJUVENATED!!!

After all, for many years, my wife and I had been living a very normal, vanilla lifestyle. At least it seemed normal for a ten-year marriage with one child. Too much time was spent between work and “family time,” leaving precious little time for just the two of us.

Whenever a chance arose for my wife and me to have some private time, it seemed as though Marie would take it as an opportunity to catch up on some house cleaning or project for work.

Speaking of work, less than a year after returning to work following the birth of our daughter, Marie received a promotion. That brought with it not just more money but more responsibility. Meaning even more of her time and attention was devoted to her job, leaving less of it for her family. Naturally, that meant even less “us” time.

Other than to sleep, if the two of us did end up in bed together, it was for “a quickie.” And that was often solely due to persistence on my part. If I was lucky, our quickie might last a bit longer. That is if I could manage to get Marie to relax and snuggle long enough to loosen up and surrender to my caresses, allowing me to have my way with her.

By that I mean, she would let me spend as much time as it took for her to orgasm from my tongue lapping at her pussy. (Oral and digital sex are the only ways I’ve ever been capable of getting her off. Lucky, oral sex is my specialty.)

From time to time, we did get completely naked together. Frequently though, only the bare minimum of clothing would be removed for sex. (When not wearing slacks for work, leggings were my wife’s preferred attire. Marie owned very few skirts or dresses.) Anyway, whenever given the opportunity, I’d help remove her pants and cotton briefs so I could dive, tongue first, into her hairy snatch.

However, no sooner had she orgasmed when the time would again be an issue. That’s when she would become impatient, telling me that if I wanted a turn, I had better get to it. “Put your dick in now and make your squirts. Otherwise, you can take care of it yourself. You’re choice.”

Well, since masturbation was often my only source of relief, I wasn’t about to pass up the offer. So, before Marie could change her mind, I would quickly undo my pants, pulling them down to my knees and climb on top. In a flash, I was easily slipping my four-and-a-half inches into her slippery love glove and pumping away to beat the band.

Surprisingly, in a way, but as soon as I was humping away, Marie would settle down and not rush me. She even acted like she was enjoying my earnest yet feeble attempts to give her another orgasm through copulation.

When it comes to fucking, bringing about a vaginal orgasm was something I had tried and failed at my entire life. That didn’t prevent my wife from making sounds like maybe, just maybe, this might be the time I’m finally successful.

Unfortunately, the more she pretended I was doing everything right, the more excited I got and the less control I had. All too quickly, my dick was shooting its syrupy cum. Within moments of cumming my little guy would fall out, shrinking back to a little nub.

That was Marie’s cue to push me off and head for the bathroom to wipe away my deposit and flush it down the toilet. I’d still be laying there in my post-orgasmic fog, and she would be dressed and back at whatever priority I had interrupted. By the time I could gather my wits, redress, and rejoin her in the other room, aside from a small friendly smile passed between us, it’s was as though nothing meaningful had happened.

Well, as I said, that was the way things had been for years. By the third week of October, I had to marvel at the significant changes we had gone through, both separately and as a couple. In just three months.

And to think, it was one single event that triggered it all.

All it took was that one, spontaneous, one-night-fling with a former boyfriend to turn my reserved wife into an imaginative and adventurous sex vixen. Whereas, up to that point, I had been the one always trying to get my wife “in the mood.” Now Marie was the one constantly looking for new ways to stimulate me. And getting off on how far she could push and control my sexual energies.

Of course, my long-standing bursa escort bayan and deep-rooted need to please my wife and make her happy only made me that much more submissive to her wishes. I readily went along with any of the perverted ideas and plans she had kept hidden away for all of these years. Willingly accepting one outrageous dare after another.

I suppose it’s only natural that some of her ideas would spark some of my own. In our own ways, we now fed off of each other’s creative dares and gained satisfaction when a given challenge was met.

At work, Marie had mastered her position, including delegating some responsibilities to underlings. As a family, we benefited from more movie nights, after-school activities, eating out, etc. And as a couple, we were also afforded more opportunities to spend time in bed together, naked, cuddling, and massaging each other — no more quickies for us. When we weren’t screwing, we were talking about and scheming up new games to play — planning what one was going to do to the other — or dreaming up the next big dare for the other one.

One consistent part of this strange game was that I had to get her off with my fingers, tongue, or toys as often as possible — as in daily, if not more. The other part of this game was something different entirely. As the days and weeks slipped by, my own orgasms were being postponed for longer and longer durations of time.

At first, this was just a simple, seemingly harmless request. “It’ll be a fun game,” she claimed. But that soon became a commandment: I was to forgo any release of semen until she “gave permission.” Meanwhile, I was expected to continue servicing her anytime she wanted. And now she wanted it a lot! My balls would get so sore and heavy I’d be begging for release. Marie said the only way she would let me cum was if I promised to fuck her quickly, cum inside her, and then lick her clean.

Well, we both knew that, aside from no longer struggling to delay my orgasm, cumming quickly was no real stretch. And I had been doing clean-up duty on my wife ever since the night of her extra-marital “reunion” fling when she fed me my first-ever creampie. HIS CREAMPIE!

Although, being ORDERED to eat my creampies did add an exotic vibe to our bedroom.

Hell! She had me so horny and desperate for release that I’d have agreed to do it anyway.

So this became our new routine. Pretty much every night, Marie got to climax, sometimes several times in a session. While, only about once a week, I was permitted to have just one orgasm. After my cum had been deposited into her pussy, I would invariably suck it back out to swallow. Doing this never failed to give Marie at least one more orgasm, which forced out the last of our love sauce and into my mouth. Mmmm!

Initially, I didn’t let on just how much I enjoyed the taste and texture of the combined juices that flowed from her cunt after making love. As far as she knew, munching on creampie was being done as a courtesy to her. Well, also because I was told to. And doing what my wife wanted remained a number one priority.

Having me between her legs lapping away before I came always seemed to make Marie very happy. It delighted her even more, when I was slurping up our creampie. Did she have any idea just how addicted I had become to swallowing the mixture of cum and pussy juice?

Yep! Marie had learned how to play me. Telling me how much I pleased her with my tongue was a true motivator. The topper was when she said, “The only real pleasure I get from your little dick anymore is when it shoots a load of scum into me. That’s when you lick me best of all.”

And now that I was regularly doing clean-up duty, she no longer needed to rush to the bathroom. Instead, Marie could simply lay back and feed my “scum” back into my hungry mouth. She even began calling me her little scum sucker.

“Why do you think I make you go so long between ejaculations? That’s to make sure you pump the most scum into me. It feels so good when my little scum sucker works his hardest to clean me up.”

Anyway, another part of our game playing was coming up with little, often lewd scenarios about the other one. And the dares were unending.

As I’ve said, one of Marie’s most recent dares had me promise not to have a single orgasm until she gave permission. I immediately thought that she wanted to see just how much “scum” I could hold before filling her pussy with it. So, of course, I took her up on that dare. Only, like a dummy, I never thought to suggest a maximum time limit.

Well, after several weeks had passed with no end in sight, I was getting extremely frustrated while my libido was soaring high. Add to that, months görükle escort of teasing me on my inability to fuck properly, like a real man could, my brain cells had turned to mush.

Then late one afternoon it happened. I hit my limit. Without any forethought, I dared her to dress sexily, pick up some young hunk she didn’t know, and not come home until she had been, not just properly fucked, but royally and repeatedly fucked.

It turns out that Marie had been building toward this all along. It was all part of her plan. She had worn me down and gotten me to break. Now, rather than thinking of myself and crying out to be allowed an orgasm, I had challenged my wife to let a strange man fuck her brains out.

Instead of outright balking at this dare, she countered it by daring me to get her a hotel room for this proposed liaison.

Well, I was so horny, when she said that any thoughts about myself or orgasms evaporated. My only desire was to see that “what a great fuck!” look on her face again. I hurriedly went out and rented a room.

But that’s not all. I also went to her favorite lingerie boutique (which resulted in great personal humiliation) just so I could purchase stockings and some new sexy underwear for her to wear on her “date.”

Now it was my turn to find out if my wife would actually take on my dare. Or was this just another one of her games?

Well, upon my return, Marie wasn’t show any signs that she was turning down my challenge. Nope. Quite the opposite. She was so eager to go out and find some stranger to fuck her, as part of her preparations, she had shaved off all of her pubic hair, making her pussy baby smooth.

I know just how smooth because before allowing her to get dressed, I spent a fair amount of time with my face buried there.

On the topic of getting dressed: That new outfit Marie recently purchased, it turns out she had gotten it precisely for this occasion. An almost, but not quite, opaque white silky blouse that only had buttons on the lower half, beginning below the breastbone. Of course, this precluded the wearing of a bra. She had even bought a skirt! A lightweight number to go with the blouse. It was tan, cinched at the waist, and ended about five inches above her knees. Not the shortest skirt in the world, but far shorter than anything my wife had ever worn before.

Those stockings? Marie told me that I should be the one to glide them up her legs. “I think it’s only right that my husband helps me get ready for my date with another man. A REAL MAN!”

With chills running down my spine, I fell to my knees and, one by one rolled each stocking up her legs. These stockings had extra elastic and a rubberized strip at the top to hold them up, eliminating the need for a garter belt. Her smooth, shapely legs felt so sexy, wrapped in silky nylon. As I helped her put on a new pair of spiky heels, I already had stiffy growing in my pants. She put her hands on my shoulders, using me to brace herself as she stood so she could admire herself in the mirror.

“Not bad!” was all she said as she walked toward her reflection. She did look beautiful! Marie’s tits looked even larger as they swayed freely within the blouse. Her areolas were slightly visible through the thin material. And there was no missing that her nipples were slightly erect. The skirt softly clung to the luscious curves of her ass. The smooth stocking-wrapped legs completed the picture. I was more in lust and in love with my wife than I had been in years.

All she needed were her panties. I looked into the bag again to pick out a suitable color to go with her hot outfit. Black panties are often considered a signal that the woman is ready for sex.

But because the tan skirt was so lightweight, I pulled out the nude-colored panties and held them in my outstretched hand, telling her that I had purchased them especially for her to wear on this very special evening.

Marie took them, held them up, then turned to look at her backside in the mirror again and said, “Mmm! They are very sexy and feminine. But you didn’t buy them for me, did you?” My mind raced. [What a funny thing to say. Who else would I buy these for?] Before I could respond, she smiled at me and said, “We wouldn’t want any panty lines to ruin this look, would we?”

“What are you saying?” I asked. “You won’t be wearing ANY panties under that short skirt?” My dick continued to grow. “I mean, what about when you sit down? Won’t it be difficult keeping yourself covered?”

Marie sauntered over to the chair in the corner of our bedroom, sat down, and while studying my face, she coyly said, “I don’t know what you mean by keeping myself covered?” She crossed bursa escort bayan and uncrossed her legs several times, and as she did, I kept catching glimpses of her bald pouting pussy. It was one of the most erotic shows Marie had ever performed for me. Without even touching myself, I almost shot my wad. I wanted to dive in under her skirt and start munching again.

The hungry expression on my face said it all. Marie smirked while saying, “Just as I thought. Yes, this should work to my advantage.”

She stood again and handed the panties back to me, saying, “Here. You should put them on instead.” I was stunned. “Kathy said they looked good on you. And from what I heard, you liked them too.” She began undoing the skirt while saying, “I need to wash my pussy again to clean off your slobber. Tell you what, while I finish doing my makeup, I want you to put them on so I can get the same show you gave to Karen.”

[Oh no. Not again.]

Marie headed into the bathroom, leaving me alone, holding the dainty ladies’ panties. I have no idea why, but as I hurried to strip out of my clothes just so I could slip back into the sheer panties, I was shaking with nervous excitement. [I can’t believe I’m actually doing this again. This time to model them for my wife.]

Being as careful as I could while working quickly, I still came close to tearing the sheer material getting them on. [If I’m going to do this, I need to do it right.] I worked quickly to get everything into proper position before she came out.

Naked except for the sexy underwear, I quickly checked myself in the mirror. My tiny balls were all tucked up into my pelvic pouch. Although I had found this look disquieting when I did it earlier, somehow, I knew that it was the right thing to do. The reflection of my little stiffy was clearly visible through the ultra-thin material. It was strangely exhilarating preparing to model like this for my wife.

Marie emerged from the bathroom in time to catch me posing seductively and admiring myself. “Well, I can tell you like the way they make you look, and I must say I do too.” I was still facing the mirror as she came up behind me. Still looking straight into the mirror, she reached around and gave my boner a little squeeze before sliding down to where my balls should have been. “Oh! I like this. It feels as sexy as it looks. I don’t know how you did this, but I really like it.” Between her touch and her words, my dick spit out a shot of pre-cum.

While this was going on, her other hand had been kneading my ass through the sheer material.

Next, she had me do another slow spin so she could get a good look from all angles. We looked at the reflection of each other’s face, and both moaned with erotic pleasure. She said, “I think these panties make you look extremely sexy. How about you? Do you like them?”

Smiling, I replied, “Yeah. I guess I do,” before considering the possible ramifications of my words.

Marie smiled in delight before glancing at the clock. “Uh oh! Look at the time. It’s already after nine. I better get going if I’m going to get the best pick.”

Marie was practically running to the front door as she grabbed her purse and opened the door. “Hey!” I yelled. Halfway out the door, she stopped abruptly and turned to look at me. “You might want this.” From the other room, I held out a lightweight jacket I’d just pulled from the coat closet. “It might get a little chilly tonight.”

She hurried back inside and thanked me as I held the jacket open for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. No sooner was that done when she was back at the door.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” I asked, my voice quivering.

“OH!” Her embarrassment was evident as she forced herself to slow down to once again step back into the house. “I’m just so nervous and excited. I’m sorry, babe.” I met her halfway, and she planted a delicate peck on my lips. When I attempted to gain a more meaningful kiss, she backed away, saying, “I’ll have to owe you a proper good night kiss. I don’t want to mess up my lipstick. When I get home. Okay?”

Reluctantly, I nodded. “Be sure to wake me when you get home, Okay?”

“I will. I promise,” and squeezed my hand. “I better not be here when Megan gets home, or I’ll never get out.”

With unrestrained excitement spread across her face, Marie ran out the door and jumped into her car.

This was it! She’s really going through with it. My wife, the love of my life, was on her way to have unbridled sex with a still unknown man.

An unexpected wave of mixed emotions soared through me. While I was erotically excited for my wife and the joys she would be experiencing, a sudden sense of dread consumed me.

Had our games and dares gone too far? Was I about to lose my wife and my marriage to someone better equipped than I?

From the large bay window, I watched her car roll down the driveway as a tear rolled down my cheek.

— End of Part 6 —

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