tagLoving WivesHow Getting Fired Has Changed Me Ch. 03

How Getting Fired Has Changed Me Ch. 03


I suppose if you live with anything long enough it becomes bearable.

I don't even question the framed photographs of Matt's supercilious grin mocking me at the end of every day as I climb into bed.

No, I don't like it but it has become a norm these past few months within my marriage to Judy.

In fact Matt seems present in everywhere and in everything we do. For example; Judy and I went away on a romantic weekend to the coast: We were browsing a souvenir shop when Judy gave an excited squeal and rushed over to a wristband stand.

"Look sweetie; it says 'Matt'. Buy it for me, sweetie. No buy two!" Judy said, her eyes sparkling with excitement and pushing the wristbands into my hand.

As soon as we were out of the shop Judy slid one wristband onto her left wrist and the other onto mine. And then we walked along the beach, hand in hand, like any other loving couple.

This is what is so difficult about the whole game Judy is playing. In nearly every aspect we are a loving, married couple: We snuggle together on the sofa, we share our intimate dreams and fears and wallow in the luxury of each others company. It was a wonderful weekend away, just I didn't orgasm and there was always the unsaid presence of Matt. It is almost surreal how things are the same but so different at the same time.

But pervading it all, always unspoken of and ever present are my humiliating fantasy, my subjugation to Judy's sexual games and the constant intrusion of Matt Monroe on our marriage.

Even browsing a simple souvenir shop becomes tainted by the dominant presence of Matt.

We walked along the beach, Judy chatting excitedly about whether Matt would spot her wristband at work on Monday because; "I'm never taking it off, Sweetie, never."

Then she held her wrist up to my mouth.

"Kissy, kissy, Matty!"

I did and she gave a little jump of pleasure and then we carried on walking.

In our bedroom, even though I am used to the photographs of Matt's grinning expression mocking me in my marriage bed, I do not like them. At times I actively hate them.

But Judy has developed a new means of gaining sexual pleasure at my expense. She had me visit the photograph developing shop again and get a photograph of Matt's smarmy face blown up to life-size.

That evening Judy had me cut out Matt's face, punch holes in the sides and attach elastic through the holes to make a face-mask of the man who fired me.

When we went to bed Judy had me lick her pussy and I was amazed at how wet she was. One of my favorite pleasures is feeling Judy's orgasms flow through every sensual movement of her body with my tongue upon her clitoris as she bucks and spasms in orgasmic pleasure. This night she came very quickly and powerfully, it was beautifully sensual.

Then she gently guided me up from between her thighs and had me lie on my back. I was utterly amazed when she straddled my cock with her naked thighs. I had practically given up making love to Judy until I could regain my manhood. I felt so grateful I nearly cried.

As I gazed up at Judy feeling like some adoringly grateful puppy, Judy again just placed a painted nail over my lips and said "Sshh!"

I don't know how many times she has quelled my desperate need to beg, to thank her or to ask questions with this ridiculous but over riding gesture, but it always works.

I lay back and waited. Judy slid her wet pussy lips up and down my hard cock and I nearly came right then.

"Uh-uh, Sweetie. No cummies."

And then I realized the torture of what she was about to do.

After days of orgasm denial and months of not being allowed to enter her pussy, my wife was going to ride my cock but still deny me.

I wandered where my gentle, naive wife was getting such wicked ideas from, where she was getting such demeaning expressions as 'cummies' from.

I was soon to find out.

Eventually Judy guided my cock to the entrance of her pussy and in one sudden movement impaled herself on my cock. It was the most intensely sexual moment I had ever experienced, as though my every desire was caught in the sensitive feelings in my cock as I felt my orgasm swelling and fought desperately not to fail my beautiful wife.

Judy's pussy felt so sexy around my aching and twitching cock and she kept perfectly still as I fought myself down from the edge of orgasm. It felt like forever before I finally won the battle and felt my orgasm subside.

When I opened my eyes I found Judy smiling wickedly down at me.

"Good boy." Was all she said and then she lent over and grabbed the 'Matt mask' from the bedside table, and tipping my head up a little, slid it over my head.

The chemical smell of the photograph was overpowering and it felt like a barrier between me and my beloved wife. I felt belittled that this was what she wanted and ridiculous at my humiliated position, but when she began to grind her hips the sensations in my cock were overwhelming.

I closed my eyes, my breathing becoming heavy and amplified against the back of the photograph so that my face became sweaty with my own breath.

I had to beg my wife to stop a few times when her sensual movements drove my aching cock to the edge, but eventually I had the exquisite pleasure of feeling her body arch backwards, Judy pinching her own nipples as she climaxed on my aching cock.

When her orgasm subsided she flopped forward, her naked arms around my neck and her breath in my ear slowly calming down.

"I love you, Matty."

To my utter shame her words made my cock swell and twitch inside her pussy and Judy, with a triumphant giggle, rolled off my frustrated cock and turned out the light with a "Night-night sweetie." She rolled over so that I lay facing her naked back and shoulders and simply went to sleep as I pulled off the 'Matt mask'.

It's moments like that; when I lie awake, frustrated and gently kissing Judy's pale shoulder in the moonlight as I wait for my aching erection to subside that the photographs of Matt seem to mock me for all that I have become. And it is in those moments I feel lost alone and vulnerable and frightened of losing my sweet Judy.

Those hours of insomnia under Matt's grinning superiority are when I most consider how far I have fallen and try to guess what all or any of this might mean to Judy. She knows I long to unravel her mystery because I have told her through my last story and yet always she greets my queries with that painted nail to my lips and "Sshh."

I try to reassure myself that she must be enjoying her games for certainly her arousal and orgasms are more powerful than ever before. But I worry they are not caused by me, but by my inferiority and subjugation to Matt and what this might mean.

Does it mean that Judy's sexual needs now involve my humiliation?

Does that make Matt an essential part of her sexual satisfaction?

Can that remain only in fantasy and is it even a fantasy. Did she really wish it had been Matt?

That painted nail and her lips mouthing "Sshh" drive me half insane.

And then that worst fear of all; Has Judy already slept with Matt? Always followed by my shame and guilt and questioning my loving wife's fidelity.

I mean, even subconsciously, having Matt's photograph as the first thing my wife sees every morning, having an orgasm with his face masking mine, working with him everyday with his bravado and smarmy charm after witnessing my humiliating acts. What does all this do to a wife's thoughts?

And I am to blame for setting this chain of events off.

But weirdly, it's like I said, much remains of our normal married life. The alarm goes off; I shower and bring Judy her morning coffee in bed. It's just that our bedroom is full of framed pictures of the man who fired me. That and the wristbands we both now wear that bare his name.

I can awaken to devotedly kiss my wife's beautiful bare shoulders and she will sleepily murmur "Morning, sweetie", as she gently rolls onto her back and without even opening her eyes, casually flop her arm across my face for me to kiss his name on her wristband.

It always brings a satisfied sleepy smile to her lips.

It has become a ritual I hardly even question anymore. First thing in the morning I kiss his name and whenever I greet Judy after work I kneel, and taking her wrist in my hands, kiss the wristband with his name on it. I don't even remember how the ritual began, or even if Judy asked for it, but all of these acts and symbols, whilst leaving much of our marriage untainted, seem to give Matt a pervading presence over every secret moment.

I do not know if Judy is aroused by humiliating me, or if she is actually cuckolding me or if she is simply orchestrating safe scenarios as a loving wife to help make my disclosed fantasy as real as it can be. This not knowing is both incredibly intense and amazingly frightening at the same time.

If you can imagine the intensity of living under this oppressive pervading invisible presence of another dominant man, not knowing if he has subjugated your wife, you might be able to appreciate the overwhelming intensity of the situation Judy devised two weeks ago:

I was two thirds of the way through a double-shift at the burger bar, my role at the time being to disseminate free balloons to the children and clear up the trays and mess that the customers left behind.

Now, the establishment I work in offers free wi-fi and so we get our fair share of suited business types using the place for meetings.

I had never expected Judy to be one of those people. But two weeks ago I just stood shocked and flushed as my wife strode through the doors with none other than Matt Monroe. The intensity of having to meet Matt face to face after months of his grinning face haunting my sleepless nights, after having had my wife make me wear his face as she fucked me, and after kissing his name at least twice a day, I just shriveled before him.

I watched them order their coffees and taking their seats, they set up their laptops. This was the first time I had seen them together in the months since Matt had fired me and I spied with intense scrutiny to try and gauge their relationship.

Judy had her hair down, something she didn't usually do with work colleagues, and I jealously recalled her doing the same over her video conference with Matt.

As they shared spreadsheets and notes, I noticed Judy slip her bare feet out of her stiletto shoes and sensually rub them together under the table.

Was this a sign of intimacy?

Surely a sign of a certain level of comfortableness with Matt that was not extended to every work relationship?

I grew jealous and angry and my impotence at not being able to stop this made my anger even worse.

After a couple of hours of working, Judy and Matt packed up their laptops, still with no acknowledgement that I even existed. I was cleaning a table, watching them sideways on when Judy slid her hands under the table, and out of sight of Matt, wriggled her skirt up and then pulled her panties down to her ankles.

I glanced desperately at Matt to see if this was some kind of flirting between them, but he was sat with his usual conceited smile.

I was almost relieved and flattered that Judy was maybe doing this for me. As Judy stepped out of her panties, leaving them lying on the floor under the table, her hand lifted up and she gave me a 'come hither' motion with her finger. I scurried over and stood beside their table, almost terrified of Matt.

Matt didn't even laud it over me. He just sat with that unreadable smile that I hate so much, wide-eyed and clearly enjoying seeing me working in a burger bar.

"I'm afraid I've dropped something, waiter. Please can you pick it up for me." Judy said, without even looking my way.

I knelt down and grabbed Judy's panties. They were damp with her juices and again my mind was assailed with doubts and insecurities. In a panic I glanced at Matt.

Surely Judy didn't want Matt to know she had slid off her panties in front of him?

Or did she?

Was he in on the joke?

I was desperate and flustered and in the end I handed Judy her panties below Matt's line of sight to protect her dignity.

"Thank you, waiter." Judy said, popping her panties into her handbag and looking up at me for the first time.

"Oh, it's you, sweetie. Say 'Hi' to Matt, then!"

I mumbled a 'Hi' and Matt just gave me a bemused look before telling Judy they needed to be going.

"Okay. See you later, sweetie." Judy told me, before holding her hand out for Matt to help her up.

Obviously the whole escapade went unspoken about when I got home, even without me asking and receiving the painted finger and the "Sshh".

But that night the photographs in the bedroom seemed more threateningly real than ever before as I quoted my reasons why Matt is superior to me and watched my wife have the orgasm I was denied.

Shortly after the burger bar incident, Judy announced she was attending a conference with Matt that necessitated an overnight stay and she was going clothes shopping at the weekend with her best friend Jackie to buy new outfits for the event.

On the Sunday evening as she was packing, Judy treated me to a fashion show of her new outfits, having me naked in my 'Matt mask' and stroking my frustrated cock as she flaunted her sexy body before me.

The outfit for the conference was professional but overtly sexual; a pencil-line skirt that came to mid-thigh and stretched tightly across her ass, with a deep slit in the side that exposed nearly her entire thigh. The top was a white silk shirt and suit jacket which she wore open and without a bra, so that when she moved the jacket, her nipples and small breasts were clearly outlined under the flimsy silk.

She looked utterly desirable and beautiful and I was on the edge of an orgasm before this vision of my beloved wife. At the same time I was insanely jealous of Matt and every other man at the conference who would have the honor of gazing upon Judy's beauty as I was denied the same pleasure.

Judy explained to me that as the conference was near the city center, she and Matt had bought tickets to a gig. Judy's outfit for the gig was a pair of tight designer jeans that made her ass look simply stunning and a tight vest top with 'sexy' written across a photograph of woman's face as she provocatively sucked a lollipop.

The message was overt and demanding attention. Judy wore her hair down with bangles on her arms, a glittering rhinestone C-belt through the waist of her jeans and a silver chain around her waist that fell across her ass cheeks.

Again she wore no bra and the image of her breasts so obviously outlined under the tight cotton and the occasional glimpse of the soft naked flesh of the sides of her breasts when she lifted her arms, along with the slutty message on her vest top made her an image of brazen sexuality.

I was jealous of Matt. I realized he had never even seen Judy out of work clothes and hated the fact he was going to know the intimacy of Judy the person, relaxing outside of work. At best Matt was going to be given the treat of spending the evening with my wife looking dazzlingly sexy and provocative and at worst, I dared not even think.

Once packed, Judy had an early night, ready for her early train with Matt the next morning. I spent another night of frustration, my cock erect at the visions of Judy's fabulous body in her new outfits.

The next morning she was waiting at the door to say goodbye.

"Kissy, kissy, Matty!" She said, holding out her wristband. I knelt and kissed it and then patting me on the head, Judy was gone.

I had work myself; an 8 till 8 shift, but I couldn't wait to get home that evening and finally have an orgasm. Judy had never told me I could not orgasm, just never with her unless she allowed it, which she has only ever done once.

Despite the restlessness and nervousness I felt at the intimacy Judy and Matt would be sharing, the chance of an orgasm was a huge treat in my current situation.

The atmosphere Judy has created practically crackles with sexual tension. I guess the old saying 'you never miss your water 'til your well dries up' is sort of applicable. I mean Judy has me dangling on a string of uncertainty about losing her; losing her to Matt and losing any respect she may have had for me.

Whilst this leaves me squirming and desperate it also makes me value my wife more than ever, even placing her on a pedestal at times. Yet it is a mixed bag of conflicting emotions and sometimes unbearably difficult, but so amazingly intense. I just hope it is ultimately only a mirage and nothing has been lost.

There is every chance she didn't even wear the clothes at the conference, or that Matt wasn't there, or she took a bra.

I'm just left constantly guessing.

Now I said earlier that I would soon find out where my naive and previously conservative wife had got all these wicked ideas from, and it was on opening my front door that night that I did.

Lounging across our sofa in a gray tracksuit and munching a bag of chips was Judy's best friend Jackie.

"Wotcha, burger boy!" Jackie shouted with a floppy wave and went back to watching our TV.

The reference to my humiliating name shocked me and I felt myself panicking at what my wife might have told Jackie.

I've known Jackie from before Judy and I got married, in fact she was the head bridesmaid. Judy is only 5' 2" and Jackie doesn't even reach that. She is one of those giddy 'fun time gals' that jumps up at every popular song and "just has to dance 'cos this is her favorite song"; how many dumb songs can be your favorite?

Anyway, the passive contempt runs both ways, kind of simmering beneath the surface whenever our paths cross. Just little things like her stupid perky greeting;

"You all right?"

And then when I say "yes";

"Who told you that?"

Or just the fact that Jackie always seems that little bit too quick to laugh when I drop something or make a fool of myself.

Anyway, for all those reasons and more, I was less than pleased to find her in my house, eating my chips and watching my TV.

It turned out that as soon as Judy had found my first story she had hurried round to her best friend's house the following day, distraught and seeking advice. Judy had shown Jackie my story and over a girlie chat and bottles of wine, Jackie had convinced Judy to instigate this little game. Jackie explained this to me as she watched TV and it was only as she finished her explanation that she deigned to look at me.

She caught me admiring the cleavage of her full, round breasts as they bulged out of a white vest top where she had left her tracksuit top unzipped.

"FuuuUUck you Colonel Sanders; stop obsessing about thighs, legs and breasts, you creep, I'm not your type; I'm not fuckin' inflatable!"

I averted my eyes with embarrassment, feeling my face flush red even as I fought my contempt for her naff put down that she no doubt had stole and practiced.

Jackie didn't explain anything else, just that she was baby-sitting for Judy and showed me a text from Judy as proof. Then she threw me a dice.

"Roll it, burger boy."

It was a 1 and she made me roll it again. This time it was a 4 and Jackie looked more pleased.

"Come on then!" She told me perkily and leapt up the stairs, two at a time. I followed her into the bedroom with those horrid pictures of Matt.

"Strip!" Jackie demanded, unable to suppress her glee and grinning inanely.

When I just stood there, frozen and battling my contempt for the stupid bitch, she purposefully pushed the sleeves of her tracksuit up her fore-arms and reaching behind her head, tied her hair back in a pony tail.

Then she walked over to me and stood directly in front of me, her hands on my hips.

I looked down at her, and she up at me and I thought she was going to try and seduce me until with one eyebrow cocked as my eyes glanced down her vest top, she slammed her knee into my balls.

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