Breaking the Rules

Driving home from work that night I was tired and hungry. My clothes felt like they were stiff from evaporated sweat. The day had been another hot one that hadn't even cooled after the sun set. A work site is always too hot no matter the season or time of day. As usual I was the first one to arrive at the site that morning before sunrise to get things ready for my guys and the last one to leave to finish up my work. I was a foreman and had to look after my guys. I made sure they saw me put in the work to make their jobs easier. I worked beside them, partly because I liked being with my guys and partly because we wouldn't get done in time if I didn't help. It was a tough job but I told myself it was worth it.

It had been a long day and I just wanted to get home, shower, eat, fuck my wife Anna, and get some sleep. I had some appetites I needed to satisfy and I was looking forward to it.

So, I was disappointed when I pulled my truck into the driveway and saw the red Corvette parked behind Anna's car. I was tired and didn't want to deal with it that night. I had the next day off, the first day in two weeks and I wanted to enjoy that night. I stepped out of my truck and walked around the Corvette with the license plate that read RIPPED.

"Douchebag," I said and shook my head.

I looked at the house and saw most of the lights on through the windows. The light was on in the guest room as I expected. I stared at it, imaging what was happening in that room and felt that disappointment fade, replaced by excitement and arousal. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.

Anna would be even more horny than usual and definitely do anything I told her. She'd want to show her appreciation and give herself over to me entirely, doing whatever I wanted. I could shower and eat while they finished and by then the douchebag would be gone and it would just be the two of us.

I'd even look into the guest room as I walked to our bedroom; take a look at her fucking her boy toy as she called him. Her boy toy Troy. I'd been disappointed in her when she'd first picked him as her newest fuck buddy. Sure he was good looking. He had the body of an underwear model, cut with every muscle defined. It was also the body of a man who'd never done a day of hard work in his life. His body was purely for ego. He wouldn't last five minutes on the job site. There a guy had to have real muscles and a body that could do actual work and take a beating.

She said she'd picked him because of that. He was someone she definitely wouldn't become attached to and wouldn't feel any qualms about using as she wanted. I'd seen her logic and agreed with her. The whole point of her fucking other guys was to try something different and he was definitely nothing like me.

They'd met at the gym. He'd been watching her. She'd been watching him. They talked several times. Eventually she brought him home for a test ride, found him obedient, and so he became her newest toy. He was fine with our arrangement and wanted nothing more.

We'd established our arrangement three years prior. She'd come to me hesitantly saying that she had new feelings she wanted to explore. She loved me and loved how we fucked. She didn't want to change that. She just wanted to add something. She wanted to try something new. I knew what it was before she said it. I knew her and she'd been hinting at it for months. I had just been waiting for her to say something.

She wanted to open our marriage. She wanted to fuck other men. It wasn't just the fucking. She wanted to try being the dominant one. When we had sex I was always in control. I had to be. It's just the way I am. I tied her up. I gagged her. I had her dress the way I wanted. I used toys on her. I took her when I wanted. She gave herself over to me completely, submitting to me entirely sexually. She wasn't a meek woman by any means. She just wanted to be taken and used as much as I wanted to take and use.

She still loved that and didn't want anything between us to change. She just wanted to explore another side of her personality she felt coming out of her, a part she attributed to me, wondering what it was like to be like me, to be the one in control. She knew that wouldn't happen with me and didn't want it to. She'd have to look elsewhere.

Since I'd been expecting it I already had my answer. I surprised her by agreeing to it immediately. I knew it would be good for her to explore herself. If she didn't she wouldn't feel satisfied. She'd feel she was missing out on something. She'd eventually despise me for stopping her and maybe even do it anyway behind my back. I didn't want that.

Plus, I worked long hours. She had a large sexual appetite and we only had sex three or four times a week. She wanted more but she wouldn't say that. She didn't want to hurt my feelings. She wanted to protect me. My ego didn't need that protection but that was fine. She loved me.

She was hesitant at first, making sure I was truly going to allow it. I persuaded her that I was, that I'd seen it coming, and I understood. She said we'd be entirely open and I could have sex with other women. I agreed but knew I never would. I just didn't want other women. I still found her exciting and our sex was incredible, even after twelve years of marriage. There was always more to explore. I didn't desire other women. Besides I didn't have the time for another woman. I didn't have enough time for my wife.

I told her we'd have to come up with some rules so that we made sure that our marriage and our love life always came first. She agreed, saying she had already thought of that, and we came up with the rules quickly. We had ten rules:

1) I'd buy her a piece of jewelry that she would only wear when she was with another guy. She would already be wearing her wedding ring, but she wore that all the time. This piece of jewelry would be something we'd pick out together and be a reminder to her when she was with another man that our marriage and our sex life was still the most important thing we had. We ended up deciding on an ankle bracelet.

2) She would get to know the guys first. She wouldn't hook up with some stranger she just met on the internet or at some bar. She'd have to meet with the guy a few times before having sex with him. She'd explain the situation to him and make sure he understood.

3) She could and should fuck in our house, but just couldn't fuck in our bedroom. They could fuck anywhere else, but our bedroom was off limits.

4) She couldn't wear any of the clothes and outfits that she wore for me, the things I'd bought for her and the things she'd bought with me in mind.

5) She couldn't use any of the toys we used together. She could use toys but had to buy new ones and keep them separate from ours.

6) She couldn't have sex with anyone we already knew or with whom we socialized or could meet socially.

7) She had to be the dominant one. She could only submit to me. She was doing this to explore that side of herself. The rest was between us and only us.

8) She couldn't have sex with anyone if she'd had any alcohol or drugs of any type. She had to be in control and thinking straight.

9) She would always use condoms with any type of penetration. That would help protect us both from disease, but mostly I wanted to be the only one who came inside of her. She was mine and nobody else could come in her unprotected.

10) She wouldn't let anyone come on her. If she was using condoms that shouldn't be an issue, but she couldn't let some guy pull out, take off his condom, and come on her stomach or face or ass. She couldn't jack him off onto her. That would let the guy feel dominant over her, like he owned her and that couldn't be allowed.

We went to the jewelry store the next day and bought an ankle bracelet. She put it in her jewelry box in a little drawer by itself. She promised she'd wear it every time and never fuck a guy without it. No excuses. It was a symbol of our relationship and would keep me in her mind.

That was our arrangement and those were the rules. It wasn't about being cuckolded or humiliating me. It was about her exploring herself. It had worked well over those three years. She'd gone through a number of men. She was hesitant to tell me about them at first but I asked her to tell me. I wanted to know. I didn't want secrets between us.

I felt a twinge of jealousy but it went away quickly. As she talked I found I got aroused listening to her stories. I'd ask her to be more descriptive. Soon she learned that I wanted to hear about it and told me about them in full detail. Eventually I even met some of the guys and sometimes would watch if they could deal with it.

During sex with Anna I often would pull back as far as I could so I could see her, see her being impaled and fucked, see her pleasure, watch her orgasm. Sometimes I wished I could get out of my body to watch her, not to watch us fucking, just to watch her. Watching her with other men allowed me to do that. I got to see a cock sliding into her. I got to see her body writhing around it. I got to watch her body jerking as she came.

It improved our sex life. She felt more fulfilled. We found she was able to give herself over to me even more than she already had which I hadn't known was possible. Exploring that side of her had opened up other parts of her and in turn parts of me. We connected even more than we had before. Our love, our trust, our hunger for each other grew.

So, as I walked to the house I thought of the sex we'd have that night. I figured I'd want to tie her up, not with the straps, but good old-fashioned rope. I wanted her tied up to something, maybe the bed, maybe a chair, maybe over the arm of the couch. I wanted her spread open for me. I wanted her nude but for black stockings and heels. I wanted more but I didn't know what yet. I'd figure it out.

I felt more energetic, the stress and strain of my work sliding from me, getting excited at the night to come. I'd stop by to watch them on the way to our bedroom and then I'd shower and dress. I'd watch them again as I went back if they were still going. I'd eat some dinner and have a few beers. Then, later Anna and I could have some fun. That sounded like a good night and just what I needed after a hard day.

I unlocked the front door and entered the house. After closing the door softly behind me I stood still in the entryway and just listened. The stairs were just down the hallway to my left and the guest bedroom was at the top of the stairs. I could hear the squeak of the bed springs, a slow steady but long, deep, loud creak. I felt the tingling along my cock and scrotum and tightness in my stomach, pure lustful excitement.

I stood there for a couple of minutes, just listening. The squeaking sped up a bit. I heard her sigh and then heard his deeper groan.

"Oh god," he said, his voice breathless.

They had just started fucking and she was taking it easy on him, taking it slow, and not wanting him to come to soon, which had been a problem with him at first. She'd had to teach him control and to hold off his orgasm, to actually allow her to orgasm and find her own pleasure instead of just taking his own.

I quietly walked down the hallway, up the stairs, and stopped in the doorway of the guest room. I said nothing and made no noise so they wouldn't notice I was there. Troy was lying on his back on the bed, completely nude. She was perched on top of him with her back to me, her lean strong thighs spread around his hips, her knees gripping his sides. She was sitting up straight, her hands moving her nude body, up her sides and grabbing her breasts, twisting her nipples. She moved up and down along the length of his erection. I watched his shaft emerge from her pussy as she pushed herself up, her thighs flexing, then slide back into her easily as she lowered herself on to him, twisting her hips to pull the full length of him inside of her. His cock was encased in a condom that stretched tightly around the width of him and rolled down the entire length of him. His legs were spread wide, his balls pulled tightly against him.

I touched my own erection in my pants, shifting it up where it was more comfortable and I could run my fingers up and down underneath the head and shaft. Her gasps as she pushed herself down on him tightly made my body rigid with arousal. She tossed her head back, her wet dark blonde hair thrown over her shoulders and hanging down her back. I watched her tone curved body moving and straining as she kept that slow rhythm, relishing just the feel of length of his cock moving inside of her, stretching her pussy, her labia wrapped around him.

He reached his hands up from his sides, slid them up her flexing thighs, and grabbed her waist. He held onto her as she rose and fell, then pulled her down on him hard and raised his hips, pushing up into her, groaning loudly.

She stopped and grabbed his wrists. She leaned forward and pinned his wrists down over his head, leaning over him. She looked down into his eyes and shook her head.

"No, Troy," she said, her voice stern and calm.

He whimpered and rolled his hips, pushing up into her. She sat up, letting his cock fall out of her, and sat down on his stomach. He struggled a bit, weakly trying to push his hands up.

"Please," he whined.

"Only if you're a good boy," she said. "You can be a good boy right?"

He just shook his head, his blue eyes staring up at her wide with need.

"Then lay still," she told him. "You're just a cock to me and I'll throw you out of here if you don't lay there and take your fucking like a good boy toy."

"Yes ma'am," he said, nodding enthusiastically.

I smiled and held back a chuckle. I felt pride swell within me. She had complete control of him. He'd do anything she asked of him. His need to be inside of her was strong. He knew if he didn't obey her that it would all end. She was gorgeous and he wanted to be fucked by her.

I saw a bit of myself in the way she spoke to him and took command. She had taken some of my own innate need for control during sex and channeled it when she fucked him and any other guys. It wasn't surprising since she was only submissive during sex with me. Otherwise she was strong and demanding. She knew what she wanted and she had a sense of purpose to obtain it. At work she was a task master with her employees and took no subordination. She wasn't cruel. Everyone including those she managed at work liked her and took their orders from her with sincerity and respect. Only during sex with me could she let go and give herself over, to not be in control, to be used and taken, told what to do and how to do it.

She had checked Troy out thoroughly before she started fucking him. He had submitted to her easily. He was a stereotype of the lazy rich kid. He'd probably been under the thumb of his wealthy parents his whole life though he tried to pretend he was in complete control of his life and was owed everything that came to him. But Anna had seen that desperation beneath the false bravado that he needed to be told what to do. Otherwise he was a complete fuck-up.

"Good," she said. "You move one more time or even touch me and I'll kick you out. Got it?"

He just shook his head profusely, staring up at her.

She let go of his wrists, reached a hand behind her to grab his condom-clad cock, rose up, and slid it back into her. They both sighed together. She put her hands on his muscular chest and began riding him again, even slower this time. I knew she was playing with him now. He wanted to go faster, to pound into her and come, but she wouldn't allow it. She was drawing it out, forcing him to hold on. He knew if he came too soon that she'd stop seeing him. She had no use for a man who couldn't satisfy her.

I rubbed my erection through my pants one more time, watching her tight body rising and falling, her butt churning as she moved her wet pussy around and over the length of him, using him. I reluctantly turned away from them and walked down the hall to our bedroom. I loved to watch her fuck, but I disliked Troy so much that it took away some of the fun for me. I understood she'd taken him as a fuck toy in part because of his toned, muscular physique, but all those muscles were just for show. He'd never worked a day in his life. The guys I worked with had hard muscle earned from years of hard work. Troy could lift weights, but couldn't use a jack hammer for a minute without losing control of it. I had no respect for him. He was eye candy, submissive eye candy. I knew she took pleasure in taking the selfish useless prick and using him, but I preferred the men she'd been with who I considered to be manlier and more like me I guess.

I stopped by the bathroom in the hallway. I could feel steamy heat rolling out of it. The mirror was still fogged at the top. The shower door was wet. I saw two wet towels crumpled on the floor. They had obviously come here from the gym, showered, and gone to the bedroom to fuck. She didn't like the smell of other men. She always made them shower so she could only smell soap, sometimes even making them wear cologne. I smiled at that and then continued walking to our bedroom.

I undressed and went into our bathroom to shower. I washed the dirt and sweat off of me. I looked over my own body as I did so, noting the differences from Troy's body. I didn't have the defined lean muscle he had, just hard thick muscle. I had no six-pack abs, though my stomach was flat, but I didn't starve myself for low body fat. I burned a lot of calories at work, but ate a lot to satisfy the hunger that came from that work. Twenty years ago I'd have been considered the epitome of strong manliness. Now it was the effeminate boys who lifted weights, drank protein drinks, ate a strict diet, gloried over their own muscled definition, grew electric razor stubble beards, went to salons to bleach the tips of their hair, and had more skin care products than any woman. I didn't understand it.

I pushed it out of my head. I had no need to compare myself to Troy. She wanted to fuck someone different. She wanted to explore. That was the point. She loved me. Every other guy was just a cock to use. I dropped my head forward and sighed as I soaped up my dick, still thick from arousal. I pictured her riding him, remembering her gorgeous body sitting up straight, taking him inside of her, taking her pleasure, sighing and moaning.

I groaned and released my cock that had quickly become erect. I didn't want to finish myself off. I wanted to fuck her later. I wanted her tied up. I wanted her spread open for me. I wanted to come deep inside of her.

I turned off the shower, got out, and dried myself off. I put on a fresh pair of underpants, jeans, and a t-shirt. I felt much better. I could hear them still fucking down the hallway. I put my wallet and cell phone in my pockets so I could order a pizza. I'd watch them a bit more then have a few beers, eat some pizza, and relax.

I walked quietly down the hallway, not wanting them to hear me. I stopped in the guest bedroom doorway again.

She was moving faster now. The bed was squeaking loudly. She was still leaning over him, her hands on his chest, moving her butt up and down, her head down so her wet hair lay on his chest and stomach. She was panting, a little "Uh" coming from her lips when she pressed down and pushed the full length of him into her. He laid still, his hands still over his head, his eyes watching her body move, devouring her, his face tense as he held on.

I looked down the length of her tense body, over her grinding butt, down her taut thighs and calves to her feet. I stopped when I looked at her right foot, partially hidden from me on the other side of him. I frowned and walked into the room over to the right side of the bed. I looked at her right ankle. I looked up and down her ankle and calf. I walked to the left side that I had clearly seen from the doorway, but searched her ankle again anyway. She usually wore the bracelet on her right ankle, but it wasn't there. It wasn't on the left ankle either.