A Fragile Wife(8)

By: Cynthia Dane

She hummed on his cock, making her husband grip both handles on his chair. Of course she still loved him.

“That leads me to wonder if you’re tired of having sex with me. Don’t I let you know other men? If you’re feeling that much desire for someone else, all you have to do is talk to me about it. But I think you like my cock too much for it to be that.”

He took another drag of his cigarette. Lana pulled off him, letting her saliva create a bridge from her lips to his cock. Her fingers broke it and rubbed it into his skin. A man could never be too wet. “Don’t mind my strange whims, Kenneth,” she said. His real name came out when she was submitting to him. “They change with the phases of the moon.”

“Oh, I know.”

She wrapped her tongue around his tip and savored the delightful taste of his precum. Lana held his cock still as she took all of him into her throat again, her breaths large and unwavering in her chest.

“Do you like doing this, Wife? Do you like having my cock inside you?”

Another hum traveled down his shaft.

“Of course you do. Touch yourself until you’re wet enough for me.”

Lana made a show of keeping him halfway in her mouth as she flung back the skirt of her robe and rubbed the inside of her thighs. In truth, her pelvis swelled in heat, every inch of her thinking about her husband taking something other than her throat. Sure enough, when her fingers touched her pussy, she found it in the advanced stages of preparing for him.

She pulled apart her nether lips so she could feel herself dribble down her thighs.

“You know…” Ken tossed his smoke onto his desk and folded his hands across his stomach. “I don’t appreciate you fucking with my feelings like that. If you don’t have a real grievance with me, then don’t do that. And if you do? You need to tell me. I don’t like having a knife twisted into my gut any more than you do, Lana.”

She didn’t say anything. She knew her lips’ place was on his cock, bringing him the relaxing pleasure he deserved.

“You know I love you, Bunny. It almost makes me sad that I have to punish you.”

Her thighs quivered. The more she fell into her headspace of servitude, the more she liked the idea of her husband making an example out of her.

Ken checked his watch. “I still need to rinse off in the shower and get my ass to bed. I’ll have to punish you here. Stop touching yourself and get up.”

She obeyed, but only because she liked that tone in his voice. Ken knew how to speak to her. Even when he was about to go 180 on her naughty ass, he could keep his tone low and reasonable. Yet Lana could see it in his eye. The look of a Dom who had to take matters into his own hands.

“Let me see your body.”

Lana pulled open her robe, the sash dangling toward the floor as her breasts poked out and her blond pubic hairs called coyly to her husband. She may be not much younger than Ken, but she knew how to take care of herself. Years of careful eating – since she had to take into account the calories in alcohol – exercising, yoga, and endless trips to the dermatologist meant she still had smooth skin, perky tits, and only minimal stretch marks and cellulite. Some things could not be helped, after all.

Yet even with her imperfections, she still felt confident, especially in front of her husband. Ken never gave her the impression that he found her anything but 100% fuckable. My confidence isn’t entirely tied into that, but I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make me feel good. Ken’s expression didn’t change now, but he looked her up and down, admiring a body he had touched and penetrated a hundred-thousand times.

He had fucked her, smacked her in the appropriate places, and come on almost every inch of her skin in the span of a dozen years. And yet he still looked at her as if he were excited to do it all over again.

“Turn around and bend over.”

Lana bristled. “Are you going to spank me, Kenneth?”

“Do you want me to spank you?”

She shrugged, indifferent. “Only if you believe I deserve it.”

“No. You won’t learn anything from a spanking right now.” Ken leaned forward, his erection between him and his wife as he caressed her hips. “You need me to punish you with something other than my hand.”

Lana glanced at his erection.

“Yes, Bunny. Now do as I say. Turn around and bend over for me.”

The carpeted mat was soft against her feet as she turned and braced her hands against her husband’s desk. He better make this good. Lana wanted to feel properly punished. If Ken knew what was good for him, he would make her feel like the most obedient, grateful submissive in the universe.