The Misadventures of Mrs. Taken

I never told Jack about the things I did when he was working late or I managed to score a rare day at home to myself. He would have flipped out if he knew that I played with the toy, especially alone. The sex toy had no fancy bells or whistles, not like the stuff he had gotten to experiment with today. It vibrated and was a flesh tone color and pretty much a standard penis in shape and size. The toy had been my idea. And it had been a good one. It just wasn't something we played with together.

Embarrassed and shy, I began to pump the toy in and out of my core. Jack was intent, his eyes fixed on me as I fucked myself, at first slower then faster and faster with the toy. His voice was gruff and breathless as he muttered words of encouragement and dipped his hand to unbutton the fly of his pants. "That's it, babe. Get yourself off for me. I want to watch you come."

Jack swabbed his palms over my breasts and paused to pinch the nipples. "Does it feel good?" he asked. He was stroking himself, getting harder and harder and pumping his cock in time with the motions of my hand. I was almost there. But, it seemed like such a waste, in an odd way me fucking myself and him giving himself a hand job when we could be fucking each other.

"Please, babe. Please, fuck me."

"No." I was insistent. I wanted to watch my wife come and I was going to. I could not withstand the pulsing need building in my groin for much longer. I stroked myself to keep from plunging inside of her. Janie was panting, her breasts heaving with each rapid intake of breath. She was enjoying herself immensely. It was odd, for as shy as she was with me. She seemed to have no difficulty figuring out how to navigate the toy to bring herself pleasure. Maybe, the toy under the bed wasn't as disused as I thought. I got so engrossed with what she was doing. I forgot my cock and splayed her lips wide, watching the toy glide in and out of her wet depths and her swollen clit pulsate.

When she finally came. It was a thing of beauty. The wetness inside of her gushed around the toy and dribbled down her lips. I knew she wasn't completely done yet. Janie might have had her fantasies, but I had a few of my own too. I eased the toy out of her trembling grip and lowered my face to her dripping center. I wanted my wife to come in my mouth. And today, on this day of firsts, she was going to.

Janie didn't shy away as I tongued her clit and opening her wide slid the toy inside of her. She welcomed the toy and my mouth with a furious bucking of her hips. I pressed my hand to her belly to hold her still as I continued tasting and working my wife into a bundle of quivering nerves. The moisture from her coated my lips and was sweet on my tongue. I drank every drop she gave me and swallowed it down. Nothing, absolutely nothing had ever tasted sweeter or better than my wife's come.

I came all over my husband's face. Jack was a gentleman about it, licking his lips and kissing my thighs. Whispering the words of praise that every woman secretly wanted to hear. The sheets were a damp mass underneath me. The afternoon had given way to the purple of twilight. We had been at this for hours and still somehow, neither one of us had quite gotten our fill. Giggling from the haze of orgasm, I stretched and sighed contentedly. "Sir," I said unable to wipe the grin off my face. "I want to repay the favor."

She was asking to suck my cock? My demure wife of thirty years was crouched on the bed loose boned, sexily disheveled and looking more like a sex kitten than a woman who baked cookies for the Women's Auxiliary bake sale every Fourth of July was asking to suck my cock. "No. This is for you."

Janie was not put off or hampered in the least by my refusal of carnal pleasures. She worked the zipper of my ridiculously tight leather pants down and wrapped her fingers around the base of my cock. Somehow, that was all the convincing I needed. "I know," she said. "And believe me, doing this to you is for me."

Somehow, in the essence of all things BDSM or even remotely kinky, it didn't seem right to give Jack a blowjob in the exact same way that I had for the last thirty years. I slid off the bed and coaxed him to his feet while I remained planted in the spot on my knees on the floor.

The leather pants were a size too small and had to be miserably tight. Working them down his hips like I would ease a banana out of its peel, I dutifully relieved him of the leather pants. I appreciated the effort and hard work he had put into pulling them on and although the black leather really didn't suit the man I knew he was and as sexy as he looked wearing them. I was glad the pants were off. His erection was firm and proud. I hadn't seen him this hard since we had begun this wild ride called married life.

He truly did have a beautiful penis. Not that I would ever dare call any man's, especially not Jack's dangly parts beautiful to his face. The ripe head of him was a blush plum color and perfectly shaped. The hard ridge between the head and the shaft was broad and pronounced. His balls were tight against his groin and covered with a salt and pepper down of coarse hair. Up this close and personal, I could see the vasectomy scars that ensured there would not be another addition to our little family unit.

Jack hadn't wanted to put the family jewels on the chopping block. But, at the time we were pushing forty and it just didn't seem like a good idea to put it off any longer. I had been on the pill since Jack Junior came into the world. Jack hated condoms and as for all those other contraceptive creams and gadgets, they hardly seemed worth the small margin of error. I had done my part and once the clock struck midnight on his fortieth birthday, I deemed it was his turn to do his patriotic duty.

He took it like a man and out of sheer pity for the boys I doled out plenty of Tylenol, ice packs, and sympathetic pats of on the top of his balding head for his courage. That was almost ten years ago and the silvery scars had long since healed. Not having to worry about birth control should have ushered in a new era in our coupledom. We could be spontaneous. Once the doctor had declared him fit for duty and sterile as an operating room, I was ready to try out our new declaration of independence. Jack, however, was still a little gingerly with taking out the boys for a test drive.

Eventually, I got him on board with the program. But, as far as the whole spontaneity thing went, our encounters were still much as they always had been. Freshly showered, under the cover of darkness and the sheets on Saturday nights, and maybe if I was lucky, Sunday afternoons, kinds of encounters. I really don't mind. There's a certain relief to comfortable predictability, I guess. I think of my mom, single and definitely not getting laid at the age of seventy-nine, or at least I hope she isn't, and I realize some sex, even predictable, run of the mill, sex is better than no sex at all. Maybe, at forty-nine, I can't afford to be too picky. After all, how many good years could we possibly have left?

Determined to give it the old college try and go for broke, I took the head of him into my mouth and sucked like a Hoover. I went for what I hoped was erotic, sucking and licking at him while looking up over the curve of his belly and meeting his glazed stare. His thighs tensed beneath my fingertips. The muscles were tight enough to bounce quarters off of. Jack usually hated to have the boys fondled, but I cupped them in the palm of my hand and gently ticked the coarse hair. He was definitely enjoying what I was doing. Encouraged, I slid my mouth over the entirety of his length and buried my face in his groin while doing that little flicking motion he liked for me to do with the tip of my tongue.

As a general rule I gave Janie all the consideration I could while she was sucking me off. There was something about having my cock near anything sharp enough to separate me from my favorite appendage that had always given me a measure of pause. She was giving it good. As good if not better than I had given it to her. I was supposed to be the Dom and that meant throwing caution to the wind and taking exactly what I wanted. I fisted what was left of the fancy French twist at the nape of her neck and guided her head up and down my shaft, setting the pace.

Her palm was warm against my balls, her thumbs gently tracing over the pubic hair in slow lazy circles. I usually didn't like having my balls touched. But, with Janie on her knees, sucking me for all she was worth, and watching me with those wide blue eyes of hers. The heat of her hand and the friction of her fingers over that sensitive part of me added to the experience and it was getting me there a hell of a lot quicker than I wanted.

In bed, the best I had ever managed was three times in a row before collapsing into a post-coital coma of bliss. I had to slow her down or this was going to be the best almost sex I had ever had in my entire life. I had a feeling tonight, with the building pressure in my groin, I wasn't going to make it past once. Gripping the twist of hair still held in place by the pins, I eased her mouth up and down my cock. I was a grunter and a groaner in the sack. Tonight Janie deserved a bit more than my usual non-verbal communication. Hell, the woman deserved poetry and sonnets recited in her honor. The best I could manage was a few barely comprehensible sentences. "That's it, babe. Damn, that's good. My sexy...sexy...sweet Janie."

Jack was close. I could taste the salty pre-ejaculate on the tip of my tongue. Usually, when he reached this point. There was no stopping it from happening. He was going to explode. Usually, I shied away a bit at this point. I love making my man shoot into outer space, but I wasn't about to swallow or spit that on my brand new carpet. I didn't think making a mad dash to the bathroom with a mouthful of come for a quick swish and rinse with the mouthwash would necessarily make him believe that I had enjoyed it. But, that was the truth though. I was enjoying it...a lot. It was just, what to do with it afterwards.

The truth was, on my knees at his feet and watching the expressions flit across his face as I did my naughty business was arousing. This wasn't our typical assume the position and brace yourself kind of sex we had been having for most of our married life. This was different. Tonight was a wild ride through uncharted territory. It was erotic. It was unpredictable. Jack loved being in control and to my amazement I liked being so wildly out of control and yielding to his whims.

We were like new creatures rising from the ashes of middle age. More birthdays would come. Time would keep on marching forward and dragging us along with it. The things middle-aged couples worry about were still there. The 401Ks, the creaking joints, gray hairs, wrinkles, the pre-planned funeral arrangements we had yet to make, and the eventual knowledge that one day there wouldn't be the two of us anymore, but only one of us left behind; all that was still there in the back of my mind. I had stuffed everything into a distant corner at least for now. Tonight was our escape from the uncertainties in life. I was a beautiful vixen kneeling at my husband's feet, worshiping his cock and he was the center of my known universe.

I withdrew my cock before I reached critical mass and there was no stopping. I didn't want to stop, but I didn't want this to end so soon. Janie's brows wrinkled in confusion. Usually, once the party started I didn't stop till the fat lady sung. Tonight wasn't going to be like that. I was going for broke. In my research of all things smut related. There was the legendary climaxing together. Obviously, the authors of said books didn't get how hard that was to achieve. But, the books were fiction and that left a little wiggle room for creative license. The idea of coming in my wife's mouth was appealing, but I wanted to come inside of her pussy and I wanted her there with me. The two of us coming together, the idea of it was a bit terrifying.

To me, the two of us achieving orgasm at the same time was the sexual pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. There were other things mentioned in the books that were supposed to be at the very pinnacle of sexual experiences. I had tried to wrap my head around the idea and simply couldn't. Maybe, although I was willing to try about anything in bed, I was too conventional in my thinking. Perhaps, it was just a hard limit for me and I had no doubt, for her too.

When they were about five or six years old, I remember taking the kids to the doctor's office for their yearly checkup. Bored out of my wits and trying to control the two of them long enough to actually herd them into an exam room, I had picked up a magazine to pass the time. There was this advertisement for ear thermometers on one of the glossy pages. This baby, maybe it was because the little tyke resembled Jack Junior that had the ad catching my eye. The baby had this astounded expression on his round, cherubic face. The bright yellow caption read 'you want to put that where?' and I completely agree. Different strokes for different folks and all that, but there are some things, in my opinion, that should never, ever be put in some places. Anal sex was out of the question. Whether backdoor action was the ultimate in sexual experiences or not, it wasn't happening.

I fisted Janie's hair and jerked her head up. I could practically see the shivers running down her spine. I quickly filed her response in my mental filing cabinet along with all the other things I had discovered that she liked. A little slap and tickle, and hair pulling were a definite thumbs up. Her eyes were wide and the pupils dilated. Inspired, I grabbed my cock by the base and batted the head across her mouth. She opened wide to take me in and damn, if that didn't get the blood racing.

The train was going to run off the tracks if I didn't pull it together and get my head back in the game. Gently jerking on Janie's disheveled hair, I guided her onto her feet. Being in complete control, moving her where I wanted her, and having her so compliant and ready sent a rush of lust from the tip of my cock to spread throughout my entire body.

I had always been considerate of Janie. Never in my life had I ever pulled the 'I'm the man and because I say so' routine on my wife. Every choice and every decision we had ever made in our lives we had done so together. Sometimes, that took no small measure of compromise. Sometimes, when there was no compromise to make. I let her win and other times she let me win. Even now, with me in control of what happened next and guiding her by the roots of her hair, she still could say no at anytime and I'd cease and desist immediately.

I sat on the edge of the bed. The sheets were cool and slippery against my bare skin. I had never turned anyone over my knee. No matter how much trouble the kids managed to get themselves into. I had never been forced to resort to spanking them. Janie and I didn't believe in corporal punishment. But, tonight wasn't about punishment as much as it was about pleasure. "I think someone has earned her birthday spanking."

Guiding me by the hair, Jack turned me over his knee. I had to admit. It was a bit embarrassing being a full-grown adult woman and flipped ass over teakettle over my husband's knee like a disobedient child. I had never been spanked before. Not even as a little kid. Sure, I had gotten my hands swatted, but what else would a panicked parent with a rambunctious and ceaselessly curious four year old about to stick a fork into a light socket do? I had swatted Janie and Jack's hands a time or two myself. But spanking them as in turning them over my knee? Never.

I wiggled on Jack's lap in protest. My bare ass was up in the air and my head down facing the carpet and Jack's incredibly long toes. He was going to spank me? I was forty-nine years old and that totaled out to a whole lot of spanking. "What?" I struggled to force my torso off Jack's thighs. With a subtle push with his palm between my shoulder blades and gripping what remained of my French twist to keep me there. I was face down, staring at the carpet we had robbed our savings account to buy.

I swatted her on the ass just to get her used to the feel of my palm against her bare skin. I knew I wasn't really hurting her. The smack of my cupped hand made a vicious sounding thwack and her skin turned a flushed pink. In the essence of caution, determined not to leave bruises and welts on Janie. I had done my research. By cupping my palm, I was trapping air and cushioning the blow. I wanted the effect of the sound and the light sting of playful punishment. For good measure, I had tried out the technique on myself. I knew exactly how and with how much force to deliver my spanking. "Forty-nine birthday spanks and one to grow on. That was number one."

"Fifty?" Jack delivered another tingling blow with his palm to by backside. I wiggled trying to free myself from his grip on my hair. He was stronger than me. I worked behind a desk and he, with his whole body. I had seen him heft tires and watched in wonder as he tossed them, rim and all, as if they weighed nothing. When there was heavy lifting to be done. He did the labor. I rode my bicycle and went to a Thursday night yoga class to keep fit. He didn't need to.

Jack slapped me on the ass again and barked a very rude order to pay attention. I had forty-eight smacks to go. He delivered a series of three blows and then smoothed his palm over the tingling flesh. I had forty-four left. I exhaled as he swatted me again with his cupped palm. As far as birthday spankings went. He wasn't really hurting me. Embarrassing me and possibly taunting me, yes. I never knew when he was going to spank and when he was going to pause to tease the sting away with the trace of his fingertips or blow a gentle puff of air across the base of my spine. Truthfully, I found myself so absorbed in whatever he was going to do next that I lost count of how many birthday spankings I had left.

I delivered five sharp blows across Janie's ass and then paused to plant a kiss to the flushed skin. My buddies had accused me of kissing my wife's ass for years. But, I had never really, at least not physically, kissed her on the ass before now. I dragged my teeth over the base of her spine and spoke with my lips suspended inches above her hip. "That's twenty, babe," I said breathlessly.

I worked my hand between her thighs and toyed with her wet seam stroking her into a wiggling mass on my lap. I was so hard and the friction of her skin against my cock was getting a little difficult to ignore. I was turned on. I was enjoying spanking my wife. Maybe, that made me a pervert and maybe it didn't. "Green light, Janie?"

His fingers had me wet and wanting. He stroked me slowly and gently, paying extra attention to that tender spot deep inside of me. I wanted to keep my mouth shut and steal the orgasm building within me away from him. His hard cock was poking me in the ribs. He was enjoying this and much to my chagrin, so was I. I had twenty-nine birthday spankings left, plus one to grow on, thirty in total. He was asking my permission to keep going. The skin on my ass was tingling and warm. The coarse dark hair on his thighs abraded my nipples. I could stop this with just a word. But, did I want to? "Green."

The next contact with his palm against my bare ass was sharp and abrupt. "Ow!" I squeaked in protest. Jack rubbed the sting till it was gone and then, gave me another somewhat gentler spank. He dragged his hand down my spine and settled the heel of his palm on my butt cheek while with the fingers of his other hand he worked my wet center.

There were so many sensations to experience all at once. The press and stroke of his fingers inside of me, the sharp sting and spreading warmth of each smack of his palm against my ass, the coarseness of the hairs on his thighs abrading my skin, the hardness of his cock pushing up to find me, the smell of sweet candles and his masculine scent, the sound of his soft words of encouragement, my own labored breathing, and the lingering taste of his kiss on my lips.