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Love's Labors Ch. 01

By: Turbidus



I wasn't entirely sure what category to post this under. "Loving Wives", "Erotic Couplings", "Romance" and, if the story develops as planned even "Novella" would work. The story does involve a husband fulfilling a bet with his wife. There may be some hesitation but there is no real domination. There may be some soft restraints and teasing, but I don't feel it would meet what is expected if I put it under "BDSM". In the end I decided on "Erotic Couplings". Let me know if that was a dumb idea but nicely please. Thanks.

I appreciate LarryInSeattle's attempts to save me from my errors. It is not his fault if any remain.

Enjoy.

=============

Like most of the shit that happens to me, this started with me thinking I was being clever.

--

"I can't believe that after almost ten years of marriage you tell me you don't like my blow jobs."

My wife doesn't raise her voice when she's angry. The softer the tone, the more pissed she is. She doesn't flush. I think it's something about the way she opens her eyes when she's pissed but her eyes seem to glow. She doesn't wave her hands. She doesn't throw things. 

At the moment her tone is very soft. Her eyes glow. Those glowing eyes are glued to me. I need to be very careful here, the wrong move and she'll pounce. She'll play with me a bit before eviscerating me, but in the end gutted, intellectually at least, is what I will be. Personally, I think that's why women tend to be cat people. Cats also like to play with their food before dispatching it. 

Now, let me be clear right from the start. My wife is not a bitch, she's not a ball-buster, and she's not a nag. She is not any of those things. She is big-hearted, always kind, and far more tolerant of my more than average male stupidity. Even so, it is possible to piss her off. 

I think I've pissed her off. 

I weigh my options. Do I skip the preliminaries and jump right to admitting I was wrong and grovel or do I try a little offense first, then cave if need be? I elect to act as if I have a chance of winning this one.

"Hey, be fair. That's not what I said and you know it. I said, right from the beginning, that I love the way you suck my cock. All I said was, all I asked was, if you'd be okay trying to deep-throat me. I mean, come on, I'm hardly John Holmes."

Now, in retrospect, saying anything at all was not very bright. Women always say they want more communication. To me anyway, even exceptionally wonderful women such as my wife tend to define communication more narrowly than I do. It strikes me, what they mean is not so much that we should open up to them, as they do for us to be open to what they want to tell us. 

It's perfectly okay for a gal to communicate to her husband or lover that he can't make her cum with his dick, or that she'd love to try anal but she knows it's not for her. But let a guy pull out a pair of leather wrist cuffs or a pair of crotch-less panties, or heaven forbid wonder what it would be like to have more than just the head of his cock in her mouth and you're nothing but a patriarchal throwback. At best, you're unappreciative of the undeserved societal superiority possessing a cock has bestowed upon you. At worst, you're a misogynistic douche bag who better take up yoga because if you ever want your dick sucked again you'll need to do it yourself.

Her voice was still soft as a moonlit whisper. 

"Fine. You aren't John Holmes, who by the way was not very attractive and no normal woman would want to fuck, but as you have told me on occasions, too numerous to count..." - At this point she rolled her eyes heavenward. She doesn't raise her voice or throw things but my God is she a master of sarcasm. It's part of why I love her. - "...that you are above average, for a white guy. Why would I want to gag myself trying to get your precious dick all the way into my throat?"

Ouch. It pains me that she's already resorted to accusing me of being overly fond of my dick. What women will never ever understand is that it is IMPOSSIBLE for a man to be overly fond of his dick. It would violate one of the fundamental laws of the universe. Existence would be snuffed out if any guy, anywhere, at any time and under any circumstance failed to love his dick. True, most of us wish it were a little bigger, a little thicker, a little harder but deep down we love our dicks. 

"How do you know you would gag? You've never tried. Above average means if I really strain I can get to six and a half inches. It's not like I'm asking you to swallow a sword. Christ. Let's drop it. Like I said, I love your blow jobs." 

That's true. I do love her blow jobs. But who among us is perfect? That's all I was trying to get at. I'll give her major points for swallowing. She always hops up to rinse her mouth but she's never been one of those don't-cum-in-my-mouth-whatever-you-do-that's-gross-ew-I hate-that-makes-me-want-to-throw-up-ew women. News flash ladies, we all leak a little, you're already tasting us, and sometimes you do such a bang up job we, literally, lose control. Sorry.

Now, I really want to say something like, "Besides, I don't bitch about eating your pussy and it's not like that's munching on dry toast," but the truth is I love eating pussy. I like the taste of pussy. I like the feel of pussy. I like getting my tongue as far as I can into my sweet wife's pussy without breaking something. And she knows it. I can't, with any honesty, pretend like it is a chore for me to go down on her. 

I'm always amused when I hear a woman say that the idea of performing cunnilingus makes them ill, or a man say the thought of performing fellatio makes him gag. Really? A mouth is a mouth. A cock is a cock and a pussy is a pussy. Agreed? If the idea of a mouth touching a cock is revolting, no man could ask a woman to do so without being an ass. Likewise, if the idea of a mouth on a pussy is intrinsically wrong and nauseous, then no women could ask a man to do so. 

"How do I know I'd gag? Of course I'd gag. I gag when I brush my teeth. You think I've never given head to anyone but you?"

[Note: the future me will know that this is the point when the present me will think he's being clever. He will know that what I say and do next will lead to him being in the position he is currently in. He will desperately wish time travel is an option, so he could go back to just before breakfast, just before I started the above conversation, and punch me in the mouth.]

We were sitting at the breakfast table. I had started this discussion, this exercise in communication, while we were dressing upstairs. The bagel we will split had popped up a few minutes ago. Bagels are always too hot when they first pop up. Have you noticed that? Even when they aren't toasted yet they're hot. Bagels should be studied for their ability to retain heat. Maybe they have a high water content compared to bread. Maybe that adds to their thermal mass. Maybe I should forget the fucking bagels and get back to the job of defending myself. Her eyes are still glowing. 

"Oh for Pete's sake. It's fine sweetheart. I said let's drop it. I'm sorry for saying anything but for the record how hard can it be?" 

I pick up a banana, longer than my cock, but maybe not as thick, peeled it, tilt my head back, and insert the whole thing into my mouth, all the way down to where the ass end of the thing still clings to the peel. I pull it out, forcing myself not to wipe my eyes, which have started to tear up, hold it in front of her face, and say, "See, no gagging. Christ. Forget it."

I stand up from the table and walked toward the toaster, confident I had made my point. I smear salmon cream cheese on my half, regular on her half, kissed the top of her head, and sit down, handing my wife her half of the bagel.

Her eyes give me pause and I mean major pause. They have gone to whatever stage exists past "glowing". She takes the bagel and regards it with for more intent than a bagel deserves. Did she imagine I had poisoned it? Over a blow job?

"So," she says, speaking to her bagel and not to me, at least as far as her eyes are concerned. "You think because you can stick a banana in your mouth without gagging it means deep-throating must be easy. Is that it?" 

I choose, probably too late, to exercise my right to remain silent.

"You have experience as a sucker of cocks you've not shared with me? Has a banana ever grabbed the back of your head and shoved your head down on it?"

"No and no. And by the way, have I ever shoved your head onto my cock? Or, or, have I ever even shoved my cock into your mouth? Or do I let you take care of things at your own pace and at your own speed?"

She nods. "No, you haven't and yes you do. I withdraw that part of my argument. But seriously, you think a banana and a cock are the same thing."

"No, but again let's drop it." But of course I don't drop it. "No, a banana is not a cock but it is a long round object very similar to a cock that one might reasonably argue can be used as a stand-in for a cock in order to make the point that deep-throating doesn't seem impossible, or even particularly difficult."

She sits her bagel down on the paper towel in front of her and disappears upstairs. I hear the sounds of rummaging. I sigh and take a bite of my bagel. I nearly choke when I see her coming downstairs carrying one of her dildos. It was her favorite, a dong modeled after James Deen.

"Stick that down your throat." 

I glance around the kitchen, even though I know the kids are gone already. 

"What the hell are you doing? I said drop it. I'm sorry I brought it up. Besides, that's a model of a porn star's dick, not mine. I never said anything about you deep-throating James Deen for fuck sake. All I wonder was if we, emphasis on the 'we', if you and I could try that. That's all. I don't see why you're getting in such a snit about it. Christ. Eat your breakfast so we can go, or you'll have to drive to work on your own. I'll be late."

"Fine," she snaps. I realize then I've really hit a nerve. She proceeds to drop the latex version of James Deen on the table, where it bounces, quivering in a strangely obscene way, and holds up a second dong that she has kept by her side. This one is more realistic and very close to my size. In fact, it is exactly my size. It's my dick.

Let me explain. When I was in the Navy, before a deployment, one of Kendra's friends gave her a "make your own dildo" kit. You get a boner, stick in this goo, let it set up, pull it out and fill the cavity with silicone, I think. Then you let it set, peel off the cast and voila, a dildo model of your own cock. Kendra's friend intended it as a joke. We used it. Kendra held the proof in her hand.

I groan an almost silent "fuck me" and await my fate.

"Fine. Show me how you can deep-throat your own cock smart ass."

It is not entirely clear to me how I'm the smart ass in this mess and that pisses me off.

"No problem." I snap and reach for the dildo.

Kendra yanks it away. "Not so fast. If you can do it, without gagging, I'll try to deep-throat you. If you can't then I get to pick something for you to do."

I shook my head. "No way, too open ended. I'm not shaving my head, or painting my balls purple or something dumb."

"You think I'd be that childish? Fine. You do it and you can pick something you want me to do, doesn't have to be sexual. If you can't do it without gagging, same goes for me. I get to pick something for you to do. Nothing illegal and let's be real, neither of us is going to do something we really don't want to do over a silly bet like this. I'm not going to gang-bang a football team or something."

I consider the offer. The future me will know that what I should have considered was the fact that silicone is not as slippery as a banana and that, while not in James Deen's league, my cock is bigger around than a banana but future me had no way to tell the me sitting at the breakfast table that morning that I ought to fold and walk away from the table.

"Deal," I reply, not too worried. It can't be that hard. We shake and she hands me the dildo. I look at it. It seems depressingly small, which is why we rarely use it. 

"I don't have to shove it straight in, right? I can work at it a little?"

"Of course, the bet is you can't deep throat it without gagging. You don't have all morning but no, you don't have to 'shove it straight in'."

I go to the sink and rinse it off. I study it a moment and suddenly I realize sticking a cock, even a fake cock in my mouth, is a helluva lot different than a goddamn banana. I'd ask to back out but Kendra was a stickler when it came to bets. 

I put the thing in my mouth and pull it out. 

"I'd like to point out that my dick doesn't taste like rubber and I could gag from the taste not the smell."

Kendra shrugged. "That's true baby. Your real dick doesn't taste bad but what can I do about that? Unless you can suck your own dick? A bet's a bet. That's your cock and it's made out of rubber. Sorry."

I consider asking if I can have a year or two to study yoga so I can suck my own dick but decide to skip it. It would take more than two years.

I put the damn thing back in my mouth. I move it in and out, getting it wet, trying not to imagine how much it probably looks like I'm sucking a cock, which I am, just not a real one. I'm startled to realize I have half a woody. Kendra is watching very closely. Her eyes are smoldering now. Don't ask me the difference between "glowing" and "smoldering". Glowing is what they do when she's pissed. Smoldering is what they do when she's turned on. I don't know how but I can tell the difference. The fact that this is turning her on is a plus, albeit a kind of weird one. The idea makes my half woody go three-quarters woody. 

Trying to impress her, trying to show off, trying to be clever, I start to work the dildo faster. And then of course, I gag. Fuck, I almost toss my bagel back onto the table. I gag, my eyes stream and when they clear, I see Kendra's eyes now shine with triumph. 

Fuck me.

The drive to work is silent except for her humming. She does that when she's thinking. She's a marketing director. She has an excellent imagination, which is what worries me. 

The kiss she gives me before hopping out of the car is unremarkable. "Don't worry Dan. You know I can't be mean to you. I have some ideas. You'll love 'em."

I watch her walk into the building. Damn her ass is fine. My cock rouses itself long enough to realize it's not need, unless I intend to jerk off in the car in the ten minutes it takes me to get to my office. I don't intend to do so and the little fella goes back to sleep. On the positive side of the asset sheet, I have my own company, it's doing well, better than I had hoped or dreamed. It's growing and may be getting large enough for some other bigger company to start noticing and get ideas. The only negative being, all those positives mean more work for me. I promised Kendra when I left the Navy I'd always be home for dinner. So far, I have always made it. Sometimes, that means working late at home, but I'm home. I remind myself a dozen times a day that I've nothing to beef about. I'm a lucky man. I work hard, I'll give myself that but there are a lot of people who work hard and have good ideas but that can only take them so far. Kendra says I sell myself short. I don't think I do. I think it helps keep a guy honest, to keep in mind that if the first deal had gone sour, or the first customer didn't come knocking until it was a week too late, I might be busting my ass in someone else's office.

There are several projects that need, so I'm told repeatedly, my immediate attention. That keeps me working through lunch but even that isn't enough to keep my mind from wandering to the definite smolder I had seen in Kendra's eyes. I pack up on time and I'm waiting at the curb when she walks out of her building. We stop for a loaf of sourdough on the way home. She says nothing beyond what is required as we dance around each other in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. 

The kids are in their rooms, doing homework, or they are supposed to be doing homework. We cook, they study and clean up, that's the deal. It works for the most part. It's amazing how much noise two kids can make thundering down the stairs for dinner. The usual chit-chat ensues. We probe for information, they, even the youngest in second-grade, dodge and parry and try to avoid saying anything of any significance. While they clean up, I disappear into the office to check a few things. Kendra sits curled up in the one of the chairs, absent-mindedly chewing her lower lip as she flips through a portfolio of potential ads for an upcoming product roll out. 

When the kids come tromping into the living room, I shut down my computer. Kendra closes the portfolio and we spend one hour watching TV, kids' choice but parental veto power remains in effect. The next hour is spent in bathing, brushing of teeth, ritualistic "did you get all your homework done", tucking and re-tucking, reading (even the eldest, nearly grown up in her mind by virtue of being in the fourth grade, clings to being read to), lights out and finally, if it all goes smoothly, an hour or so for ourselves.

Still, as we brush and floss, Kendra has not dropped a clue regarding her plans. I love the sway of her breasts when she brushes. Both of us grew up in houses where the sight of a boob or penis would result in panic. We did not flaunt or bodies, neither did we shriek if one of the kids saw us naked. We sleep naked. I dread getting old enough that I would climb into bed without half a hardon. 

Tonight it's a full blown, no pun intended, boner. Between wondering what her devilish mind is working on and watching her ass and breasts while she's bent over the sink, I'm hard, hard and dripping when we climb in bed. And Kendra knows it. And Kendra loves the power it gives her. 

That's okay. I had happily ceded that power to her long ago and I've never regretted it. 

I know she's waiting for me to ask so I do. "So, what did you come up with?"

She flips onto her side, props her head on one hand and smiles. "I'm glad you asked. I've come up with ten things I want you to do."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. Ten? You said 'something' not 'somethings'."

She grins. "That's the something I want: ten wishes." She tilts her head and kisses my shoulder. When she looks at me I see worry in her eyes, hear it in her voice. "Come on Dan. It'll be fun. I promise." 

My mind leaps back to the night before. We had been lying in bed, spooning as we always do before falling asleep. Her back had been to my front. My hand rested on her hip. I reached further and cupped her sex. My erection was pressed flat against the smooth skin of her bottom. I started to grind myself against her. For most of our lives together, she would have rolled over and either climbed on top of me or pulled me on top of her. I know all couples exaggerate the amount of sex they had at the beginning of their relationship but I honestly think we fell asleep atop each other, thighs slick, five nights out of seven. 

Last night her response had been...a soft snore. At first I thought she was joking. Nope. She was asleep. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling wondering if this was what it would be like from here on out. I knew life would change with two kids, two careers. Two weeks earlier, Kendra had started on the downhill run into forty, turning thirty-five. I would join her on the back-side of our thirties in a month and a day. A month after that would make ten years of marriage. We've known each other for fourteen, been sleeping together for thirteen and living together for twelve. How had that happened? When had that happened?

Wasn't it that which had started me thinking we needed a change? Isn't that how my mind turned to images of women deep-throating cocks? Yes to both. So, why am I hesitating? It's clear from her voice that Kendra has some of the same concerns. She wants to do something about it. Right? Right.


Love's Labors Ch. 01



I roll on my side to face her, cup her cheek and we kiss. It's a lovely, sweet, lingering touching of lips and tongues, which convey more emotion than passion. It is one of those moments when I am overwhelmed with how much I love this woman. I'd do anything for her.

"A bet's a bet. Ten wishes it is. I owe you way more than that anyway, my love."

She burrows her head under my chin. Her breath tickles the hair on my chest. "Thank you."

I stroke her hair, what there is of it. She had shaved her head at a fund-raiser for a co-worker with breast cancer. After doing a double take I decided she looked pretty hot. She looks even hotter with this short, spiky brown hair. I rub my hand over her head.

"I like your hair like this. Why don't you keep it a while?"

"Seriously?" She asks without moving. 

"Um-hmm," I mutter against the top of her head. Her hand moves down my belly and begins to fondle my cock.

"So," I ask. "Do you already know what your wishes are? Or are you still working on the list? When do I start the first of my labors?"

She tilts her head and I tilted mine as well. She's smiling again. "Now that is an interesting thought. I hadn't thought of that." Her smile broadens. "You know Hercules had twelve labors not ten."

I nod. "True but I haven't murdered my family. Ten should suffice, no?"

"Reasonable," she agrees with a single nod. "So, your first labor is..."

---

She stops there of course, leaving me hanging. 

"Okay, sweetheart, spill it, what do you want me to do?"

"I'm trying to decide what I want you to do first. Give me a minute?" The way she chews her lower lip I know she is truly pondering her options, not just toying with me. She kisses my chest and then rolls away enough to look me in the eyes.

"I can't decide, so I'll let you choose. Okay?" I give my consent with a nod. "Okay, but one of the choices has two parts and I don't want to tell you the second part until after the first part."

I frown. "If there is a 'second part' doesn't that make it two 'somethings', wouldn't that bring us down to only eight somethings left?"

She shakes her head, appalled. "No way. The two parts are integral to each other, it's the second part that I really want, and so it's really only one."

It's my turn to shake my head. "I don't think so babe." I don't want to be at loggerheads already so I offer a compromise. "How about this sweetie? We ditch the idea of 'somethings' and call them 'labors' and in order to keep the continuity, we make it twelve instead of ten, but count this one as two. In essence you're getting a bonus, after the two tonight you still have ten left."

Her eyes smolder. Excellent. She nods.

"Deal, but I'm still not going to tell you both parts." 

I shrug. "Okay, shoot."

She shakes her head again. "No lover, you shoot." I stare at her, waiting for an explanation. She rolls onto her back and for an instance I'm afraid I've done something to upset her. She throws the covers off her body and lies there, nude and beautiful and perfect. 

"I want you to masturbate. I want you to masturbate and cum on my tits."

I look at her, confused. "But baby, these labors are for you. That's really what you want? You want me to cum on your breasts? Seems sort of, I don't know, degrading or something."

We aren't prudes. We've watched porn together at times. Kendra had always maintained that the single most ridiculous thing about porn is women begging men to cum on them. I agree but have, on occasion, tried to explain that there is something erotic about seeing the result of one's passion, semen or vaginal secretions. It wasn't, to my mind, so much about establishing dominance. I love seeing her thighs wet with her own excitement. It's just that in the case of a male, most of the evidence of his excitement occurs at the end and tends to be more copious. In any case, I find her request baffling.

"I know. It doesn't fit with some of the things I've said. They are your labors, as you put it, but you aren't being punished, and I'd like to use this as a chance to experiment a little." She cupped her breasts with both hands and began to pull at them. "So go ahead, cum on my tits." She smiles. "Remember that's only the first part of this labor."

I was still lying on my side. My eyes sweep slowly over her body, the spiky hair, the smoldering brown eyes, the just right breasts and the tantalizing nipples hidden by her hands, the flat tummy, and the cropped landing strip of her pubic hair. As my eyes devoured her body, she bent her right leg, opening herself to me. Her labia, her pussy, is waxed and smooth. I swear I can see the lips darken and swell as I gaze at her. Her pussy already glistens in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

She's a goddess, a fucking goddess and she's chosen me. Unbelievable. 

I roll to my knees and start to lean over her, intending to kiss her, as I reached between my legs. She holds up her hand and puts it gently against my chest, shaking her head.

"I want to watch you, baby. As much as I'd love to have your mouth on mine, on my breasts, on my body, I want to watch you even more. Kneel beside me."

She releases her breasts and trails her fingernails down her belly, past her pussy, and over the inside of her thighs. I follow her hands, hypnotized. She's clearly very turned on, how she has the strength to keep her hands away for her pussy and her clit is beyond me. 

I rub my hand over my cock, lubricating my palm with pre-cum, and begin to stroke. My knees touch her left hip and side. I'm not sitting on my heels. I'm kneeling upright, belly thrust over Kendra's lovely body. Her hands continue to glide over her body, ignoring her nipples and her pussy. Her skin shines like a wet caramel, blessed with skin that tans without freckling. 

I encircle the base of my cock and balls with my left hand and squeeze, thrilling to the extra ache the pressure provides. The ache waxes and wanes as the heel of my hand makes contact with my balls. Kendra has seen me masturbate before. We've always been secure enough to know that a partner masturbating means nothing more than the stars didn't align for both parties to participate. She's seen me masturbate but not like this. I've always been a little ashamed that I enjoy the ache, the pain, which jerking off this way provides. She's never seen me pinch my nipples either. I consider it but that would mean letting go with my left hand. 

Almost as if reading my mind, she leaves off stroking her body and begins to play with her own nipples. I'm in agony. Not being able to lower my mouth to her beautiful mounds and hard nipples is worse than the ache in my balls. I moan, forgetting to be as quiet as possible, another downside of children.

My hand begins to move faster, and harder. The ache is truly more pain than ache now. My hips jerk forward and I erupt. 

The first shot arches past her body to land partly on the sheet, but the main streamer falls in a spotted line across her right breast down to her left hip. The caramel skin is now dotted with watery gobs of white. Three more streamers of cum lace across her body. I lean across her body, supporting myself with my left arm. She wanted me to cum on her tits, not her belly. Because of the way I'm leaning over her, most of my load is deposited on, and under her right breast.

I rest there, leaning on one arm, my other hand unwilling to release my still twitching cock, knowing that was one of the best orgasms I have had in the past few months. I swivel my head and kiss my wife. When I straighten up, I can already feel the post-coital pull of my pillow. Kendra's eyes still smolder. 

I sit back on my heels, smart enough for once to understand that lying down and going to sleep would constitute a major mistake. I remind myself she had said this was a two-part labor.

Her left hand leaves her left breast. That breast and hand are pristine, unadorned with my emissions. She uses her fingers to wipe a dollop of cum off her right shoulder. She watches my face intently. She holds the fingers out. I stare, honestly confused. 

"Phase two," she whispers and touches her fingers to my lips. I instinctively pull away. I start to sputter a protest but she interrupts me. "Put my fingers in your mouth."

I've tasted my cum on occasion. I can't say it was disgusting but neither did it taste so wonderful that I made the habit of eating it. My eyes dart from her fingers to her eyes.

"Go on," she urges, more than commands. My earlier thought, regarding men who reported wanting to puke at the thought of putting a dick in their mouth, blooms in my mind. I ask myself what's the difference here? Aren't I guilty of the same double standard? I can put my cum in her mouth but she can't put my cum in my mouth? I remind myself that she rinse her mouth out but have to concede it's after she's swallowed. 

I made the bet. I agreed to this. 

I lean forward and engulf her fingers with my mouth. There isn't much. It has the same funny pungent flavor I recall. She pulls her fingers out and holds up her index finger. I understand and lick it with my tongue. She holds up her second finger and I lick that one. When she lowers her hand I congratulate myself. I tell myself that wasn't so bad.

She extends her right hand. That hand had been playing with her right breast when I ejaculated. My cum shines wetly on the back of her hand and across her thumb. I put the thumb in my mouth and suck. I'm rewarded by hearing a soft moan from my wife. I lick the back of her hand, between her fingers and then turn the hand over and lick the palm, even though none of my seed resides there. 

My eyes are glued to her beautiful blazing brown eyes. When I release her hand, it falls between her legs. I turn my head and watch as she dips her fingers into her cunt to wet them and then begins to massage her clit. Her fingers shine. I reach for her hand and suck on her fingers. This I've done many times before. I chide myself for doing it this time. I did it for me not for her but I know how to make amends. 

As her fingers drop back to her clit, I lean over, extend my tongue and lick up the cum that lies pooled in the hollow above her left hip. I lick and suck and make my way across her belly. Her belly button is full of clear fluid. I don't lick. I slurp. She moans. I lick under her breast and then I clean the soft mound of her breast. All that remains is the nipple. Most of my cum has softened and run off the nipple on to her breast, but be that as it may, I take her nipple in my mouth and begin to flick it with my tongue. As I do, her hips begin to convulse underneath me. Her left hand wraps around my head and forces my face into her breast as she begins to whimper and pant beneath me. 

When she finally relaxes, I turn and lay my head on her tummy, facing her pussy. Her heart roars in my ear. I pull her hand to my mouth and begin to suck on her fingers. 

She tastes better than I ever will.



Love's Labors Ch. 02



Dan, having lost a bet to his wife Kendra, faces his next labors. It is not giving away too much to say, that for the most part, he does not find his labors onerous. 

Thanks to LarryInSeattle for his editing assistance.

I hope you enjoy.

Constructive criticism, while at times painful, is welcomed.

======

I wake to the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen. Kendra's side of the bed is empty. I quickly make the bed, a Navy habit I don't think I'll ever shake, pull on a pair of pajama bottoms, and head downstairs. The kids are putting their bowls in the dishwasher. Kendra has let me sleep in. I have time to give the girls a quick peck on the top of their heads before they hurry out to the bus. 

"Can you go in a few minutes late?" Kendra asks as she waves bye to the girls through the windows beside the front door.

When she turns, my frown answers her question. 

She answers my frown with a smile. "No problem, but you'll have to skip breakfast or make do with a Kashi bar on the drive." 

She takes my hand and leads me back toward the stairs. I'm confused and more than a little intrigued when she grabs the Dust Buster out of the small utility closet in the upstairs hallway. 

"Undress," she commands, as her bathrobe falls off her shoulders. She's nude underneath. She lays it atop the bed. My pajama bottoms join hers on the bed. I follow her into the bathroom and turn toward the sink. 

"What are you doing?" She demands. 

I look at her, confused. There have certainly been times we were so horny a little morning breath couldn't delay our rutting but it had been a while. 

"Brushing my teeth."

She shrugs. "Okay, but hurry." 

"Do I have time to shave?"

"Yes, but don't." 

I gaze at her, trying to divine what she's got up her sleeve, not that she has a sleeve at the moment. I brush my teeth quickly. As I do, Kendra opens one of the drawers and pulls out a beard trimmer. Thought I haven't worn a beard for over a year, the drawer is equipped with outlets. Her hair dryer keeps my trimmer company. She unplugs the trimmer as I rinse my mouth with a palmful of water. She pushes the button and it begins to hum in her hand. 

"Where are the attachments?"

I bend and open the drawer below. Kendra picks up and discards several before attaching one, the one that trims the closest. 

She gestures toward the shower. It is designed for two. I step over the sill and wait for her. When she joins me I lean toward her but she puts a hand on my chest. 

"You can't kiss me."

"Why not?"

She smiles, telling me with her face and eyes she is not angry. "Labor number two."

"Three," I correct her softly, smiling back at her.

She shrugs. "Worth a try. Three then." She grabs the small teak bench she rests her foot on to shave her legs and sets it in the middle of the shower. "Sit down."

She clicks the guide on the trimmer head. I can see she has it all the way out. That will leave hair about a quarter of an inch long. I run my hand over my chest. She had complained it was starting to curl. She's right. I'm not sure how trimming my chest is a labor for me but I'm fine with it. What did she use to say when we first started to date? Will Smith pops into my head.

"Okay sweetheart," I tell here as I sit. "I'm giggy with it."

She grins, remembering. I imagine she is going to kiss me then but no luck.

I sit. The trimmer buzzes to life. While I'm waiting for her to step in front of me and start trimming my chest hair, the trimmer touches my neck and mows a strip up the back of my head. I jump. She halts waiting. I scan my emotions. I'm a little irked she didn't ask. I would have given in, for the sake of the bet and the fun we'd had last night, but I wish she would have asked. I had not been able to shake the habit of dressing my rack when I roll out after my eight but I had gotten use to long, or at least longish, hair.

I don't say anything. I realize I'm not angry, curious maybe but not angry. Hair grows back. I wait to see where this leads.

After a moment, the trimmer touches my neck again. This time it goes all the way over the crown of my skull to my brow. Kendra is using a trimmer not a hair clipper and she's being very careful. It takes a few minutes for her to finish. She is very careful around my side burns, stepping back, peering, leaning her head from side to side, making sure they are straight. 

Satisfied, she steps back. "Stand up please."

I stand. Her hand drifts across my chest and shoulders and I feel tufts of hair roll down my back and chest. She pulls the guide off the trimmer and sets it on the shelf beside her shampoo. She turns it on and touches it to my chest. Now, I'm nervous, without the guard it would be easy to nick me. She does, almost immediately, and I jump. 

"Oh shit," she cries, looking far more distress than is called for. She holds her finger to the spot to stop the bleeding. 

"Hey sweetheart, don't sweat it. It's no big deal. I've nicked myself a million times. Just use the guard."

She shook her head, still looking distressed. "No, that won't work." She begins to chew at her lip. "Let me think." A bare second later her eyes light up. "Dan, please, call the office and tell them you'll be in after lunch. Please? For me?"

I give myself credit for not hesitating. 

"Sure, I don't want to make a mess. Can you hand me my phone."

She chirps in delight and dashes back into the bedroom. I brush myself off and use the Dust Buster to vacuum the hair off the floor. I hear her talking in the bedroom. She's on the phone and I wonder who she could be calling. 

She hurries back, still excited and I know her plan is back on track. She hands me the phone and I dial the office. Mack picks up the phone. Shelia must be away from the desk. When I tell him I won't be in until after lunch, he protests.

I cut him off. "Mack, you got this. The basic idea is yours, true it was rough and needs some work but you've been doing most of that on your own. Time to sit the sippy cup down, and start using a big boy glass. Take a break. Go for a walk and stop thinking about this. I'll see you after lunch and take a look at what you come up with. See you then."

I hang up before he can protest further. I'm not worried. He's brighter than he gives himself credit for. It's his first time as project lead. He just needs a boost of confidence. I'm not really throwing him in the deep end to teach him to swim. He knows how to swim. I had hired him, thinking he might be the first guy I offer to make a partner.

"Mack okay?"

I nod. "He'll be fine. He's still getting used to his new role."

"You like him don't you?"

Kendra's question surprises me. "Sure. He's a good guy. I was lucky to steal him. Those boneheads at Shuster's will regret over-looking him before too long."

Kendra nods. "I like him too." She steps back into the shower.

"I thought you were giving up on the trimmer?"

"I am, kind of, but it has a supporting role." 

She has put the guard back on. There is dried blood on her finger. 

"You have blood on your finger."

She stares at it. "So I do." She puts the finger in her mouth with a smile. I had felt my cock lengthening as the trimmer had buzzed over my scalp. Watching her, it starts to do so again. She leans into my chest and puts her mouth over the place she had nicked me. Her tongue plays with it. It stings but I don't say a word.

"There, all clean," she whispers as she steps back. "Raise up your arm," she orders pointing to my right arm. I do. The trimmer buzzes. The damn thing tickles and I struggle to hold still as clumps of my armpit hair fall down my side. She does the other armpit. Then my chest and belly. She is very careful around my cock. She has me put one foot on the stool and hold my scrotum up. When she asks me to turn around and spread my cheeks, I balk.

"Not until I shower. That's gross. What if I refuse even then?"

"You can. I hope you won't. But like I said the bet was for fun, not punishment. If you really don't want to, don't."

I lean toward her, desperate for a kiss but she holds me off with a rueful grin and shake of the head.

"Nice try, champ."

I shrug. "I'll think about it while I shower. Join me?"

"Sure." My hope soars only to be dashed. "But over here." As she twists the shower handle for the second shower and the hiss of water fills the space, she turns to me. "No masturbating, champ, okay?"

I nod. Dammit. 

We both shower quickly. I decide I'm in for a penny, what the fuck. After we towel off, I turn and grab my ass with both hands. 

"Please be careful."

Apparently, a kiss on the back of my shoulder is not against the rules, since that is what she does by way of answering me. 

Her fingers join mine. I sense rather than see her peering at my ass. I don't think she's ever been this close. Well, she has, but that's when she is going down on me and my ball sack was between her and my asshole.

I hear the scrape of the stool legs. "Put one foot up here," she requests. I do. This time when her fingers pull my cheeks a little further apart, the trimmer buzzes to life. I steel myself, determined not to jump, not to prove I'm tough but to reduce the risk she'll cut me. 

The damn thing tickles more than in my armpits. Thank God it doesn't take very long. 

Kendra stands and steps away. As I turn I see her nod of satisfaction. 

"Get dressed baby. Old clothes. You don't need underwear."

I consider that, then pull on an old pair of jeans, a tee shirt and slip my feet into flip flops. Kendra pulls a sun dress over her head after donning a thong. Neither of us needs to bother about combing or brushing our hair. She skips down the stairs, grabs her purse and tells me I won't need my wallet. I climb into her car feeling vaguely naked and wonder if that is the intent. 

When she pulls up in front of Alicia's, I'm really confused. Kendra has had her hair done here for years. I get my hair cut there as well, but they don't open until 10:00 and it's barely quarter till 9:00. As Kendra climbs out of the driver's side, I see Alicia opening the door. Kendra rushes toward her. They hug, exchange kisses on the cheek and are giggling when I join them. Kendra points her key fob at the car and it locks with a double chirp that makes me jump.

Alicia leads us to one of the spa rooms. She is from Mexico City. She has taken care of my wife since we moved to the neighborhood six years ago. Her father was Canadian but was born in India. I love the way the world is slowly mixing itself up. There is even part of me that wonders if someday, not in my lifetime, but someday maybe we won't need a Navy. Who knows?

Alicia is a knock out. Her skin is the color of wet brown sugar. Her hair is black and thick and is pulled back in a ponytail. Her boobs aren't huge. They sit perfectly above her trim waist. Her ass is almost as hot as Kendra's. She knows it. No woman wears skirts that tight and that short if they don't know they have a hot ass and great legs. She's probably five years older than my wife but they look the same age.

Alicia closes the door behind us. Kendra plops into an overstuff chair, where normally the customer would sit to undress. 

"Dan, undress and lie down on the table face down."

I look at her confused, unsure.

Alicia raises her eyebrows and looks at Kendra, who chuckles.

"He's not totally sure why he's here, Alicia. He lost a bet. Didn't you, lover?" I nod without speaking. "I was going to shave your body but that clearly wasn't going to work. I checked with Alicia," she pauses to smile at her friend. "And she was willing to do me, do us, a favor. She's going to wax you."

"Huh?"

"Yup," Kendra replies with a nod. "Not just your back and chest baby, all of you." 

I look from Kendra to Alicia. Alicia looks at my wife. "Are you sure?" She asks Kendra.

I kick my flip flops off under the table. "Go ahead," I call from inside my shirt as I peel it off over my head. My pants follow. I don't know if Kendra expected me to undress in front of her friend or not but I do. I like it. I've always been something of a closet exhibitionist if you'll pardon the oxymoronic phrase. 

I see Kendra smile as I lay myself face down on the table.

Alicia pulls a small table on wheels closer to the bed and sits on a wheeled stool. 

"Let's start with your back Dan." Her voice is soft, her accent musical and calming. "You don't have a lot of hair and it won't be very uncomfortable. We'll get you use to the feel of the wax. It will be hot but won't burn you. If it is too hot tell me please. I need to touch your back, okay? To feel which way the hair grows, okay?"

I nod. Her hand is cool and soft when she touches my back. She turns. I see her lift the lid of something that looks like a miniature Crock Pot. She dips what looks like a double-wide wooden ice cream stick into it and pulls a gob of golden taffy. 

"This is the honey and wax Dan. I'll put it on with this." She points at the ice cream stick. She drops the stick and picks up a strip of cloth. "I'll press this into the wax and honey mix and let it cool. When I pull it off, hair comes with it. That will sting a little. If Kendra can handle it, a big strong man like you should have no problem. Right?" 

The twinkle in her eye makes me nervous but I nod anyway. 

I flinch a little when the hot wax touches my skin. Alicia stops. "Too hot?" I shake my head. "No, it's okay, go ahead." She spreads the wax over the top of my shoulder, from my neck nearly to my deltoid. She lays the fabric over the wax and she rubs the side of her hand over it. It feels good actually. Relaxing.

"Ready Dan?"

"Sure," I mumble, with my head on my arm and my head turned away from her. 

Rip! I'm not sure if I really hear the sound or if my mind simply over-dubs the correct sound effect. It doesn't really hurt but it does startle. Alicia presses her fingers over the area.

"Not too bad? Okay, Dan?"

"Yeah." I mumble.

The rest of my back goes quickly. She skips over my butt and starts to work on my legs. That's worse than my back. When she starts applying the wax to my ass cheeks, I'm surprised to feel myself getting hard. 

Rip. Rip. Rip. Several more brushes of warm, press, then rip before she moves around the table to the other cheek.

"Kendra, would you help me please?"

I hear the soft sigh of the chair as my wife rises and the sound her sandals make on the bamboo flooring. 

"What can I do?"

Alicia pats my butt and I stifle a groan. "Up on your knees, Dan."

I'm not sure I heard her correctly. "On my knees?"

"Yes please, Dan. Keep your head and chest down but bottom in the air, please."

I comply, feeling very dumb and very exposed. I can feel my cock and balls hanging down between my legs. I look back and nearly flop back down on the table. A streamer of pre-cum stretches from my cock down to a large wet spot on the sheet. Jesus.

The two women have to see this. There is no way they can't. They don't say a word about it but I can only imagine their faces.

"Kendra, hold him like this." I feel Alicia's cool fingers on the lower part of my left ass cheek and tugs. I close my eyes when I feel the back of her knuckles graze my scrotum. The fingers retreat, only to be replaced by my wife's. She tugs. She makes no effort not to touch my balls. Alicia pulls on the other side.

"Down here we use only warm honey, Senor Dan." 

Why the formality now I wonder as I feel hot honey touch the skin just below my asshole. I feel it twitch. I can't control that. 

"Are those your fingers?" I gasp.

"Si, Senor Dan. The stick is too rough for this part of your body." There is a pause. "You would prefer the Senora to apply the honey?"

"Uh, I don't care, I guess."

"No, Alicia. You do it. I'm sure there's more to it than just dabbing it on."

The issue settled, I feel the pressure as another strip of fabric is applied. This one really stings. It's a small area. The worse is when Alicia goes over the area with a pair of tweezers. 

"Take a break Senor. I'll bring tea before we finish. Kendra, be a dear and put the lotion on, please," Alicia says as she stands at last. I let my body drop back onto the table. I hear Kendra moving. Soon soothing lotion is being rubbed across my shoulders. She works her way down my back. God, this feels good. The lotion leaches the last of the stinging from my skin. She does my legs next. She does my ass last. Her fingers probe between my cheeks more than seems entirely necessary. 

The door opens so softly I don't realize Alicia has returned until she speaks.

"Tea, Dan. Roll over, Senor."

I do so without thinking and then blush. My erection bobs in the air. I had been unaware of the effect Kendra's hands were having on my body. 

I said nothing. They said nothing but as I took the tea from Alicia's hand I thought she looked flushed. 

I sip the tea. It is hot and very sweet. 

"Thank you, Alicia."

"My pleasure, Dan." 

Kendra looks at the clock on the wall. Almost an hour has past. "Alicia, do you have time today to finish? I don't want to mess up your schedule." 

"Psssh," Alicia hisses. "I am fine. The schedule is fine. The girls will be here in a half-hour to get the shop ready. Plenty of time." Having said that, she motions at me with her hand. "Drink up, Senor. Let us be done."

I drain the small cup and lie back, then raise up on my elbows. 

"The door?"

"I leave open, so I can hear the girls. I'll explain, private client so they make not so much noise."

I lay back, take a breath and try to relax. Alicia, turns it into a teaching session. They finish my arms first, as Alicia shows my wife how to apply the wax against the grain of the hair but to pull it off with the grain. She shows her how to keep the skin taut to lessen the pain. The secret, she says, is a quick, steady pull, no stopping, no hesitation. 

Kendra does my right leg with minimal help. I can tell she's pleased with herself. This is not what she'd planned but she's enjoying herself. I smile as I watch her work, resting on my elbows. 

As Kendra begins the process of touching up with the tweezers, Alicia directs me to lay flat. She tells Kendra to do my other leg while she starts on my chest.

"Dan, the chest is the second most painful spot for most people. Slow breathing, Senor. Don't hold your breath."

I nod. The wax, we're back to the wax, feels good going on. It does not feel very good coming off. I barely notice Kendra working on my left leg. Alicia works steadily, has me take a big breath, let it out, rip. Ouch. I'm distracted by Kendra rubbing the lotion onto my legs. They had worked right up to the crease of upper thigh. Despite Alicia's presence and despite the pain she was inflicting, as Kendra rubs the lotion on my thighs, working her fingers between my leg and ball sack, I feel myself get hard again. 

By now my chest, including my pits, is done. Only my belly is left. I keep telling myself that. I tell myself that just because Kendra had my ass crack waxed, she'll leave the hair around my cock and on my balls.

Kendra leaves for a moment and rolls in a second stool. She sits on my left. 

"Alicia?" 

I hear my wife mutter a "hhmm" to her friend. Alicia nods at my erection and inside I cringe, but only a little.

"Hold his verga, sorry, his penis back please."

"Oh, sure." 

Kendra pushes my cock away from my belly with the back of her hand. I cringe a little more inside when Alicia uses a Kleenex to wipe the pool of pre-cum off my belly. On goes the wax, the fabric, then more tugs. Alicia moves to stand behind my wife to do the left side of my belly. 

Finished, Alicia drops the stick in the trashcan. It is nearly full of used fabric strips. The fabric, with its stripe of caramel colored wax that sprouts clumps of hair is pretty gross. I start to sit up.




Love's Labors Ch. 02



"Not so fast lover. We aren't done." My wife whispers. 

"You're kidding right?"

"Whole body baby, the only hair I want left is on your head."

I don't argue. I lay back.

"Senor, bend your leg out for me. Kendra, el escroto," as she nods with her head. 

My wife chirps another, "Oh sure," as she tugs my ball sack away from my leg. The hot honey touches my inner thigh. It only takes a strip or two. Alicia looks at my wife across my legs. 

"Would you like to do your side?"

"Si, por favor." Kendra's voice is excited, soft and intense. I realize I've missed that sound.

I can't help a soft moan when Alicia pulls my scrotum toward my other leg. Kendra is not as fast but she does not hurt me any more than Alicia had. 

"With el scroto, I will show you. Very important to keep skin tight or it can tear."

I open my eyes at that. 

Alicia smiles at me. "Not to worry my good friend. You are in good hands."

She shows Alicia how to do it, while I wonder how I came to be flat on my back while my wife and her stylist take turns tugging at my balls and ripping the hair off my sack. I don't recall having hair on my shaft but I appear to have been mistaken. Small dabs of honey are applied to my dick, the removal feels more like needles than anywhere else. 

I almost groan when Alicia hands Kendra a pair of tweezers and they bend over my balls, heads touching. Alicia warns me that the pubic hair itself will be the worse. It is but then we're done. 

Except for the lotion. Alicia, once again, lets Kendra take care of that part of the procedure. My wife beings to stroke my cock with the lotion. Alicia is putting away her equipment but her eyes are on my wife's hands. She is definitely flushed. 

I feel myself tense and Kendra's fingers squeeze, hard, just below the crown. 

"Uh-uh, not yet." She says no more but stands. I sigh as my body shudders in frustration.

I swing my legs over the left side of the table and stand. There is a mirror there. I look at myself. I hold up and arm and gaze at my naked armpit. I've had hair there for over twenty years. My chest is bare. My cock is bare. My cock is still hard, the head still wet and dripping. When I turn around to get my clothes, three women scatter from the open doorway. 

My wife is smiling. Alicia looks worried. 

"Don't be mad at Alicia. I told her you liked people to see you naked."

I pull my jeans on and slip the shirt over my head. I stretch a foot under the table and retrieve one flip flop then the other. I have yet to say a word. When I look up, Alicia looks more concerned than ever.

I smile at her. "Gracias dama," I say struggling to recall my high school Spanish as I tip my head to Alicia. Turning to my wife. "Tip her well sweetie."

My clothes feel funny against my smooth skin. I can't help fidgeting on the ride home.

"How do you feel? Sore?"

I shake my head. "No, not too bad. I might take an Advil when we get home but if we're out I wouldn't bother to go out to get some."

"You need to use my loofah. It's easy for the follicles to get plug."

"That sounds gayer than getting wax." 

"Maybe," she snorted. 

I look at the car's clock. "I can shower and get to work before lunch. Did you take the day off?"

"Just the morning." She glances at me, then back at the road. "I was planning on one more labor out of you this morning. You up for it?"

I grin. "Sure."

She grins back. "Don't be too sure lover boy."

That keeps me quiet the rest of the way home. 

We stop in the kitchen long enough for each of us to have a glass of juice. I realize I'm starving but follow my wife's gorgeous ass up the stairs. 

She gestures toward the bed. "Lay down in the middle."

I start to lay down but she stops me. "Naked baby."

I shed my scant clothing, already getting hard. Kendra undresses and sits on the edge of the bed. 

"Scoot back, lean against the headboard. Use a pillow so you're comfortable." 

I do as she asks. Our bed is a simple platform bed with a simple headboard attached to the wall, not the bed itself. The mattress is extra firm, so my ass doesn't sink too far. 

"I haven't had time to shop and I'm not sure I need to." 

I listen to her, interest piqued. 

"Can I trust you to keep a promise?" When I just look at her she adds, "Don't give me that look. I know you can keep a promise when you think it's important. But you might think this is silly but I want you to promise. Okay?"

I nod. "I don't think anything you ask is ever silly. But I promise, sweetheart."

"Good. If you put your hands under the edge of the mattress are your arms okay? Wrist? It's not too awkward?"

I wiggle my hands between the headboard and the edge of the mattress.

"I can't really get my fingers under the mattress. Is this okay?"

"Uh-huh," she nods. "That's perfect. Now spread your legs apart, or maybe just bend up at the knee."

I do as she requests. My cock is pressed against my belly. It feels different rubbing against my smooth skin, more slippery. 

"Good. Now, I want you to promise not to move your hands. You can shift around if you get uncomfortable. You can move your legs around a little. What I want is for you to stay sitting there and the most important part of the promise is you can't touch your cock. Promise?"

Shit. I nod. "I promise." 

She hops off the bed and disappears in the closet. I hear a drawer open, the rustling of clothing. Then, I hear a clatter as she gets something off the shelf. After a few more clatters she comes back into the bedroom carrying my GoPro and a tripod.

"How does this go on?"

I shake my head. "It doesn't baby. You need an adapter."

"Shoot." She looks at the camera, disappointment mars her beauty.

"Sweetheart, get my climbing helmet. It attaches to that. You can probably just sit the helmet over the top of the tripod if you aren't planning on moving the camera."

"Won't it fall off? I don't want to break it."

"I don't think so. They're pretty solid anyway. Make sure the battery is charged and there's a new card in it." 

She kneels beside me on the bed and holds the camera out. I tilt my head and then nod. I have not moved my hands.

"Yup, you're good to go. Just be sure you have what you want to record in the frame."

She hurries back into the closet and returns with my climbing helmet. She sets the tripod up in the door to the bathroom. I imagine she can get the whole bed in frame but we'll appear fairly small.

"Honey, if you are trying to get the whole bed in the picture it will come out looking like we're pretty far away."

"What should I do?"

"Depends babe. What is it you want to see?"

"You mostly," she tosses me an evil grin. "But maybe me too."

"Just bring it in bed with you then."

"What if I leave it on the helmet?"

"I guess you can. You'd have to wear the helmet."

She giggles. "That might be crazy."

I really wish I could get off the bed and show her how to do this but I promised. I quickly explain to her how to make sure the camera is seeing what she is seeing. She plays with it for a few minutes before she's satisfied. You might imagine a naked woman with a climbing helmet and GoPro on her head would not look sexy. You have not met Kendra. Even as I struggled to walk her through setting up the camera, my boner never faded. A glance at the sway of her gorgeous globes, the sheen between her legs, her spiky hair, and boing! A glance, that's all it took, a glance. 

She disappears back in the closet but only for a moment. She climbs onto the foot of the bed, looking ridiculously sexy wearing my climbing helmet. She lays several of her toys out on the bed. There's Mr. Deen of course, Mr. Me, which I try not to scowl at, a small finger mounted clitoral stimulator, and a toy I have never seen. She drops it into the sheets before I can get a good look at it. 

She kneels close to my feet. Her eyes smolder. 

"Hmm, what do we have here?" She purrs. "Looks like someone is happy to see me. Are you happy to see me?"

"Yes, baby, I'm very happy to see you."

"Umm, isn't that sweet." She reaches out and rubs her fingertip over the slit of my cock and rubs the liquid around the flare of the head. "Mm, does that feel good baby."

"God yes. That feels good." My ass squirms on the mattress. I tighten my fingers on the mattress. It is harder than I had imagined to not grab my beautiful wife.

"You want to put that in my pussy?"

"Yes."

"My mouth, too I bet."

"Yes baby, your mouth, too."

She sways her head over my cock like she did when she had long hair. I can almost feel her non-existent hair brushing over my belly. My newly naked skin sings. She purses her lips and blows her breath across my belly. I arch my back but she pulls away. 

"No, no, no. Sit still. No touching me with your cock. Or your hands." She stretches out over her legs and kisses the top of my left thigh. "Or your lips." She drops a hand to the sheet beside her, picks up something and then her hand disappears behind her. The way her hand moves I can tell she is moving something up and down the slit of her pussy. I groan in frustration, leaning to my left trying to see. I lean but I don't move my hands.

"No peeking, lover," she whispers and kisses the top of my other leg. I see her hand move and her body twitches on top my leg and a soft gasp of air wafts across the smooth skin of my leg. I shiver as goose bumps race up my leg. 

"Umm. That feels nice, nicer than I expected. Umm," she whispers as she rubs her dangling breasts back and forth across my thighs. Her lips hover tantalizingly close to the head of my cock. My ass cheeks tighten and a large drop of dew is expelled from my slit. 

"You are excited aren't you, lover?"

"Very." I bite my tongue but it's no use. "I want to touch you. Please?"

"No baby. Be strong. Be my Hercules."

She kisses her way down my leg to the top of my foot, her body bent double, feet now hanging off the end of the bed. She walks on her knees back to my feet. I can see her butt cheeks flexing and relaxing. 

She sees me staring. She smiles and then turns, stretching her body over the bed, pressing her breasts into the sheet. Her ass in the air. She's in the same position I was earlier, as she and Alicia smeared honey in my ass crack. A vision of my wife in that position, Alicia's fingers rubbing hot honey in her crack and over her bottom, flares in my mind.

As usual, her ass crack is smooth, it glows whitely against the tanned cheeks of her ass. What isn't usual, what takes my breath away, is the sight of something I have never expected to see. She looks over her shoulder and stares at me. She doesn't smile. 

"You like that, lover?"

"Oh Jesus, yes I like that. Kendra, you're killing me here."

She reaches back and pulls the small glass butt plug out of her ass. The end, the flange I guess you'd call it, is capped with red glass, cut to look like a ruby. 

"Are you surprised, lover?"

"Yes."

"It's small. Look at it. It's hardly bigger than a finger. Way smaller than your cock. That's what you're thinking isn't it? What you're hoping? Maybe I want your cock in my ass. Maybe I've changed my mind? Is that what you're thinking Dan?"

I nod.

"Mm, so you still want to put your cock in my ass, huh?"

"Yes."

"Dan, sweetie, say what you want."

"Yes, I want to put my cock in your ass."

"Is that all? Really? It's that simple? You just want to put your cock in my ass?"

"No. No, I want to do more than that. I want to fuck you in the ass."

"Ah, that's more what I thought you meant. You want to ass fuck me. You want to kneel behind me and shove your cock inside me." She popped the butt plug back in with a sigh. "You want to pound my tight virgin ass with your cock. Right?"

"God, yes. I want to fuck your ass. I've always wanted to fuck your ass. You're so beautiful, all of you, but your ass is gorgeous."

My cock is spasming and more fluid drips from the head. Kendra is silent. I can see her face lying on the mattress. Her eyes are closed. Her fingers are between her legs, two of them saw in and out of her cunt. She's resting on her face and breasts. The other hand jiggles the butt plug. 

The hand between her legs drops to the bed and comes up with the replica of James Deen's cock. She rubs the head in her slit and then pushes it inside her pussy with a moan. She's so wet there is no need to work it in and out slowly as her cunt stretches to accommodate the large dong. She buries it to the hilt. The rubber balls pressed hard against her pussy. Her palm rests on the base of the dong and the fingers press against the butt plug. 

She starts to fuck herself with the dong. The other hand abandons the butt plug and begins to rub her clit. She is arching and flexing her back, pushing her ass up in the air and then letting if sag toward the bed. I'm sure she is about to cum when she slows. She climbs to her feet and turns to face me. One hand holds the dong in her pussy. She walks up the mattress.

I clench my fingers as hard as I can. She's standing astraddle my hips. Her pussy, stretched around that porn star cock glistens in front of my face. I can smell her cunt. I begin to hit my head against the wall, literally hit my head against the wall. 

"Oh dear, my lover is very, very turned on."

"Yes," I snap. I'm shocked at the vehemence in my voice. "I'm very, very turned on."

She cups my face with a hand that reeks of her pussy.

"You want to touch me, well okay." She must see my shoulders twitch because she steps back. "Not with your hands." She staggers a little and takes a step for balance. The mattress is extra firm but it's still a mattress. The helmet moves. I think she's forgotten she's wearing it. She takes it off and turns it around. She smiles. 

She steps closer and puts the helmet on my hand, not bothering with the strap. She takes a step back and turns. She looks at the helmet and camera and down at her ass. I look at her lower back, from what I've seen, that should keep her ass in the center of the frame. 

She bends at the waist, pushing her ass toward me. The butt plug twinkles in the light. The dong is still deep in her pussy. She holds the dong in place, reaches around her ass, and begins to pop the plug in and out. 

"Oh that doesn't feel bad at all. I didn't think it would feel so good." She pushes it back in and begins to vibrate it with her fingers as she works the dong in and out of her cunt. "Oh fuck, that's even better. Oh my God, I can feel them, inside, rubbing against each other. Oh my God that feels fantastic." 

I don't groan. I roar. A short bark of frustration. My cock has a near constant stream of pre-cum running down it. My newly hairless ball sack is wet.

"Poor baby. This is a tough one, huh? All labor pays off, all hard work pays off, don't worry, baby."

She takes the butt plug out of her ass. She picks up a small washcloth up and wipes the crack of her ass and then wraps the plug in it and lays it down. She holds onto the dildo we made of my cock. 

"I had plans for this." She drops it. "But 'the best laid plans' as they say. I have a better idea." She walks up the bed until her pussy and the still present dong are almost touching the camera, then she moves back. 

"You may move your right hand but only your right hand. I still don't want you to touch me with your hand. Promise?"

I nod. 

"Okay, take your hand out."

I do, flexing the fingers to get the blood flowing. 

"Take the camera off the helmet." I do as she asks. 

"You want to help me cum?" She asks sweetly.

"God yes," I pant.

"Okay. Good. Here's the plan. I'm going to fuck myself with this big old cock. I'm close baby, so close. I want you to record it." I nod. "And I want you to record you eating my ass, that ass you find so gorgeous. I want to cum with your tongue in my butt, lover."

I can't say I haven't thought of licking her ass before. I have licked her ass before actually, back when we thought we might try anal. But I'd never penetrated her with my tongue. I remind myself we had showered just a few hours ago.

Her eyes never left my face. "Can you do that?"

"Yes." She holds my eyes. I turn the camera toward my face.

"Yes baby, I can eat your ass while you fuck yourself with that big dildo."

She doesn't say a word. She merely walks up and straddles my hips again. She steadies herself with one hand on the wall as she turns. When she bends, her ass and pussy are right in my face. I hold the GoPro to the side and a little behind me, hoping I have it framed correctly. 

Kendra's left hand goes to her ass cheek and tugs. Her pussy is clearly visible, stretched tight and pink around the pale dildo. Her asshole is wet and shiny. I inhale. All I smell is her pussy. Trying to hold the camera steady, I press my face into her crack, mouth open, tongue probing.

I run my tongue in circles around the crinkled ridge of her rosebud. I've done this before. I kiss and nip along her ass crack. She's working the dong so hard she keeps hitting me in the chin with her hand. I take a breath, stiffen my tongue and push my mouth against her anus. It resists a moment, then she relaxes and I have my tongue inside her. 

"Umm, uh-huh," she pants above me and begins to grind her ass into my face. I fall into rhythm with her, pushing when she pushes. I long to grab her ass, spread her wider, my hesitation forgotten, replaced by a deep desire to pleasure her, make her scream her pleasure. Thinking of grabbing her ass reminds me that I have a second job to do. I peek at the GoPro out of the corner of my eye, making sure I have it pointed at the action. 

Even now, all I smell is her cunt. I'm aware of a slight, bitter taste, but it is so faint as to be hardly rise to the level of perception. 

Kendra is pushing harder now. It is a struggle to breath. I can feel her tense. Her ass clenches around my tongue. A gout of hot liquid flows over her hand and begins to drip on my chest.

She falls away from my face, her left hand shoves the dong furiously in and out of her cunt. Her right hand is a blur between her legs. 

"Oh, oh, ffuucckkk!" She cries out and collapses on top of me. 

She jams my cock into an uncomfortable position and I shift my hips. Her belly rests on my crotch. Her ass is in the air, in my face, cheeks wide. I bring the GoPro in for a close-up of her twitching, quivering asshole. Her crack is slick with my spit and her juice. I lower the camera. Her pussy drips like it is full of cum but it is all her. 

My cock, my brain, my body are all on fire but I keep my promise. I do not move except the hand that holds the camera. I record the slowing of her panting, the relaxing of her body, but mostly I focus on her cunt and the tight pink pucker of her ass.

She opens her eyes and crawls off me. She stretches, arching her back like a cat, purring like a cat. Unbelievably, when she sees the camera in my hand, her eye re-ignite. 

She crawls toward me, shoulders rippling and the image of a cat is complete. She picks up the dildo from where it has fallen in my lap. Her other hand takes the camera. I know what she is going to do. I consider saying no. She'd accept that. But I don't say no. I embrace her unspoken desire.

She points the camera at my face but I keep my eyes on her as I lean forward and wrap my lips around the head of the dildo. It tastes faintly of rubber but mostly of my wife, of her pussy. I find myself wondering if it wouldn't taste better without the rubbery taste of a dildo. I take as much of the fake cock in my mouth as I can. It is far more difficult than the banana, or even the dildo replica of my cock. 

When all I can taste is rubber, I start to lick it. I lick my way down to her hand and lick her fingers. I lick the rubber balls. This taste different, more watery somehow. I remember the gush of fluid when she came. Did her bladder let loose? That would be crazy. It doesn't taste like pee but I don't really know what pee tastes like.




Love's Labors Ch. 02



When she is satisfied I have relieved the dong of any trace of her pussy, Kendra drops it behind her.

"Still hungry?" she whispers.

"Yes." She waits. "Hungry for you."

She stands again and walks toward me. She holds the camera above my head, angled downward, toward her pussy and my waiting mouth. 

"Eat my pussy, lover."

I lunge for her, frantic for more of her nectar. The fucking dildo-sicle was an aperitif, nothing more. I bury my face in her cunt, growling like a dog, unable to get at the intruder he sees through the window. I can get to her but not the way I want. I want my cock pounding her cunt, not my tongue and face. 

I lap and lick. She begins to move against my mouth. I know this started as a tease but I can feel her growing heat. I capture her clit with my lips, tug, release, tug, release, I circle it with my tongue and then flip the stiffened tip up and down the head of her tiny lady cock. 

When she drops the camera, I suck her clit into my mouth and suck as rapidly as I can. 

"Jesus, not again," She screams, and I have my reward. Hot fluid again cascades from her cunt and down my chin. It is not nearly as much as earlier, but her body has never responded this way. 

When she pulls away, her eyes are hazy, unfocused. She lies beside me for a few minutes then rouses herself. She slides out of bed. When she stands, she sways and extends a hand to the wall for support. Her thighs are slick to her knees. My cock throbs, jutting over my belly. It's no longer red but purple, the head is as slick as my wife's thighs. 

"Don't move, sweetheart." Her voice is almost normal. 

She disappears into the bathroom. I hear water running. She returns with a washcloth. 

"Maybe this will help," she whispers. She drapes the cloth over my cock. It's cold and my body tenses. Kendra kisses my forehead. 

"You can move your left hand if it is uncomfortable. But don't touch yourself."

I nod. I expected her to say that. The washcloth starts to feel good but my cock is still hard.

Kendra straightens. "I'm going to take a shower. Be back soon."

She leaves me sitting there, hardon holding up a cold washcloth. It seems like she is gone for hours. 

"Okay baby, you can get up. I want you to go to work. But you can't touch yourself. I don't want you to jerk off today. Promise?"

I sigh as I nod my promise. "I promise," I add to reassure her of my commitment. 

As I begin to crawl out of the bed, wondering how I can make it through the afternoon and evening without relief, she calls over her shoulder as she walks into the closet.

"Baby. Just get dressed. No shower."

I stare into the closet but I can't see her. I don't need to. I can tell by her voice she's serious. My face and chest are covered with her juices. It's hard to smell because I'm surrounded by it but I must reek of pussy.

"Kendra, baby..." I start to say.

She leans around the doorway. "That's your fourth labor, baby. The waxing was the third. What we just did was for fun, lover. The labor is for you sit in your office, smelling me, unrelieved and not succumbing to the need for release. That's the labor." She disappears into the closet only to quickly re-appear. "Oh, and take the camera with you and edit our little movie. I don't know how to do that. I want to watch it tonight after the kids go to bed."

I just gape at her.



Love's Labors Ch. 03



All characters are of legal age. I want to thank LarryInSeattle for continuing his efforts to save me from the worse of my prose and poor grammar.

Dan completes several of Kendra's tasks and enjoys doing so. 

You can read this chapter independently if you wish. The background being, that Dan has lost a bet with his wife and she has given him twelve labors to perform.

Enjoy and by all means comment, constructively if possible. It's how I attempt get better at this.

===========

Dan spent several minutes in internal debate regarding whether or not he should try to hide the smell of pussy on his face with cologne. In the end he decided that the cologne, which he rarely wore, would only call attention. He dressed, did what he could to control his hair, and left for the office with his wife's amused smile lingering in his memory. 

He was a hands on boss. He always stopped and chatted with his employees. He made it a point to know not only their names but something about them and their families. People work harder for someone who knows them. It would be unusual for him to not stop and chat. As with the cologne, he pondered what the best course of action would be as he drove to the office. In the end, he opted for the harried I-don't-have-time-for-idle-chit-chat look. 

He tossed a quick wave at Shari, the receptionist. "Shari, I'll be swamped in my office this afternoon. Do me a favor will you and hold my calls? I'll get back to whoever it is first thing tomorrow." He hurried on, not waiting for her response. He breathed a sigh of relief as his door closed behind him. He sat down behind his desk and rolled his head in circles over his shoulders, trying to clear his mind. He was too busy to blow off an entire day. He had issues that needed to be dealt with. 

Dan typed his password and pulled up Mack's latest proposal. As he read it, images of Kendra's body, of her pussy and her ass, receded. What Mack had run up against was typical. Most projects they worked required dealing with broadly similar problems. Mack had looked at the issue in a fundamentally different way. It was not how Dan would have dealt with the issue. It was better and Dan was happy to admit the fact. Looking at his elegant solution, Dan knew he had made the right decision in bringing Mack on board. He decided, on the spot, to offer to make Mack a partner today rather than wait. He had already had his attorney draw up a memorandum of understanding. He'd give it to Mack to look at. And he'd do it before discussing the project with him, use it as a marker of his confidence in the man.

He leaned back in his chair, locked his fingers behind his head and grinned at the ceiling. He could see a half a dozen ways they could make money off Mack's idea. It was that good. As Dan stretched, he felt something hard in his shirt pocket. As he reached for his pocket, he recalled what it was. The SD from the GoPro. His smile faded. He wasn't sure how he felt about editing his digital debauchery at work. He could disconnect from the server easily enough and scrub his tracks, but work was work. 

That's what Dan's brain said. But not what his dick said. As images of what the GoPro might hold raced through his brain, Dan's dick began to swell. A handful of heartbeats later and he was rock hard and aching. He took a moment to remind himself he'd promised his wife he would not jerk off. He had every intention of keeping his promise but doing so while editing the video was going to be tough. He wondered if Kendra would believe him if he spontaneously spooey'd in his pants. 

He pulled up the control panel and disconnected from the office server before plugging in the SD card. He opened the editing program, wondering how much time to put into this. He still wanted to talk to Mack. He knew he had a tendency to become obsessed. If he wasn't careful he'd spend the night at his desk, working on fades and adding music. First, he decide to let it play, see what Kendra had managed to capture. 

He checked to make sure the volume was down and hit the play button. The ache in his balls and cock ratcheted up as the video played. The first minutes are when Kendra wore the helmet. Narcissistic or not, Dan liked the way his cock looked but it was the conversation the camera had recorded that was making his cock strain against his pants now. The way his wife had verbally teased him was hotter than any image of his tumescent cock. There was a large segment of shots of the wall, the door to the bathroom, the closet, all from when his wife had turned his back to him. He fast forwarded to the point when she gave him the camera and edited out the inadvertent shots of the bedroom. 

The next section, with the camera now atop his head, as his wife bent over to show off the jeweled butt plug and fucking herself with the dong, now that was fucking hot. He found himself panting in frustration. The urge to yank his zipper down and beat off atop the desk was nearly unbearable. He should have brought the camera. Maybe she would forgive him if he videoed himself beating off to her video. The question was moot; the camera was home atop the dresser. He could use the camera on the computer but it wouldn't record the fact he was beating off to his wife masturbating on camera. We wondered if he could playback the home video while the camera on the computer recorded him jerking off. That would at least capture the sounds his wife had been making as she fucked herself in front of him.

There was a knock on his door. To Dan's horror the door began to open. He had forgotten to lock the damn door!

"Yo, boss. Shari says you decided..." Mack's voice died in his throat as Dan lurched forward to kill the screen. That worked but the sound of his wife moaning and teasing him did not. Dan stabbed at the mute button but forgot to hit the "Fn" key at the same time. His cursing drowned out the sounds coming from the computer. He managed to hit both keys simultaneously and the office fell silent except for the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and the barely suppressed laughter of his soon-to-be new business partner.

"Boss, you really got to re-think your open door policy if you're going to watch porn at work," Mack managed to choke out. 

Dan glared at him, opened his mouth to bawl him out and instead rolled his chair back and dropped his forehead to his desk and stared at his feet. He heard Mack pulling a chair over and more strangled laughter. A hand patted his shoulder.

"Come on Dan, we'll laugh about this in an hour," Mack told him. Whatever calming effect his reassuring tone might have offered was offset when he snort, "Fuck in an hour. I'm laughing now."

Dan shrugged the hand off his shoulder, squared them like he was at attention and sat back to restore his authority. He was baffled when Mack exploded in laughter, baffled until he looked down that is. His pants were tented and there was a wet spot the size of a saucer on the front of his pants. 

The befuddled look on his boss's face, turned Mack's laughter into silent wheezes, as he clutched at his sides and groped behind him for the chair. The look of befuddlement transformed, rather quickly, into a broad grin. Dan had been a communications specialist on a ballistic missile sub, he had been in Navy parlance, a "boomer fag". By the standards of a fast attack sub, quarters on a boomer were palatial, but by any other standard, even the captain, was wedged into a space most American's would reject as too small for a closet. There was no privacy. You can't send a boatload of 18-twentysomethings for ninety days at a time and expect them not to jerk off. Everyone had a cruise sock stuff under the mattress. You learned to look the other way and you learned not to over react to getting caught, at least as long as it wasn't by an officer or the Chief.

So, Dan composed himself and sat quietly as his colleague struggled to stifle his laughter. As the red began to fade from Mack's face and his breathing returned to a semblance of normal, Dan swiveled his chair and retrieve a file from the drawer. 

"If you are finished with your hysterics, take a look at this," he remarked as he handed Mack the file. "You'll want to read it more carefully but scan it. Tell me what your first thoughts are."

Mack was still snuffling back laughter as he took the file. His face grew serious, as he began to read. After the first paragraph, he looked up from the page. His voice was quiet.

"You serious, boss?"

"Absolutely. I need help. This is what I had in mind when I hired you, your worthless Canoe U degree notwithstanding. You interested? Think a two-and-a-half striper can bring himself to partner with a lowly E-6?"

Mack didn't say anything for a moment. His eyes darted back to the page. He flipped it over.

"Fifty- fifty? Boss you're nuts. You got to be fucking with me."

Dan shook his head. "No to both. I'm not nuts. I'd be nuts for letting you walk away and compete against me. I was reviewing your suggests for the Forsh project. It's a beautiful idea. It's not the solution I would have come up with. It's better. A lot better. I think we'd do better working together, than you coming to your senses and striking out on your own."

Dan gave the man a moment to collect himself before speaking again. "Take a look at it later. There may be items you want to change or clarify. If I were you I'd have your attorney look it over as well." He turned back to his computer. "Now, about your solution," he started as he keyed in his password. The rest of the sentence died in his mouth.

Later, Dan would wonder if this was some sort of Freudian slip, not that he had given much thought to Freud. 

Neither he nor Mack laughed but they both stared. On the computer the video had paused at the spot playing when Dan had moved the cursor to one of the hot corners to kill the screen. The frame was of Kendra's ass, jeweled butt plug plainly visible. Her pussy was stretched wide and pink and shiny around the James Deen dong. Worse, she was looking over her shoulder. There was no question as to the identity of the woman on the screen. 

Quietly, Dan minimize the screen and lowered his head into his hands. 

"I'll give you fifty-one percent to keep that to yourself," he whispered, eyes fixed on the keyboard.

"Don't be a fucking asshole boss. You really think you need to ask me that?" Mack asked, clearly angered by the question.

Dan took his head out of his hands. "No, I don't. I'm sorry. That's why I want to turn this into a partnership."

Mack held out his hand. "I'll look it over. I don't need a lawyer. There may be a point or two to clarify but the answer is 'yes' boss."

Dan shook his friend's hand. "Then you'd better stop calling me boss."

"Uh, boss," Mack's voice was tentative. "Now that we shook, and don't bust me in the mouth, but I'll make it a 45-55 split if you let me see more of the video."

Dan stared at his new partner. He wasn't entirely sure how to handle the request. Was it a joke? It didn't sound like it. Should he rescind the offer, even though they had shook on the deal? No, he didn't think so. Did he want his new partner watching him shoving his face in his wife's ass and pussy? He had to admit, he just might, given the way his cock was responding to the idea.

He shook his head finally. "I'd have to clear it with Kendra. You really want me to ask her Mack?"

"I'll trust your instincts boss. If you think she'll claw my eyes out and never speak to me again, then 'no way'. I got to admit from what I've seen, you managed to snag just about the perfect woman. I like Kendra a lot. As a friend," Mack added hastily. "But godamighty is she hot. I'd rather keep her as friend is the bottom line. If you think asking her would kill that, then don't. If you think she'd be okay with it, I got to admit I totally understand why you were sitting here nearly ripping your pants out with a boner."

Dan nodded, "I'll think about it. Now, let's get a little work done."

The two men set themselves to reviewing Mack's work on the project. Dan was soon to discover that Mack still wasn't convinced that Dan wasn't blowing smoke up his ass about how elegant he thought Mack's solution to the problem they'd struggled with was. Dan was grateful for the work. It gave his cock a chance to rest. 

But, work done, Mack and the rest of the office packing up and leaving, he returned to his editing task. By the time he was finished, a second wet spot joined the dried stain on the front of his pants. His cock and balls ached like they might break off and fall out his pant leg when he stood up. He tried to distract himself on the drive home. No luck. He hid his tented pants behind his brief case when he walked in, not wanting to deal with explaining to the kids what was wrong with daddy. 

The house was quiet. Kendra sat at the breakfast bar, nude. 

"Where are the kids?"

"They were happy to extend the sleepover for the rest of the weekend. It's just you and me babe. What are you hiding anyway?" She smirked over a glass of wine that glowed ruby red under the kitchen lights.

Dan dropped the briefcase to the floor. 

"Oh-la-la," Kendra intoned. "You'd better eat. It could be a long night, lover."

Dan sat on one of the stools and Kendra sat a plate of pasta and a glass of wine in front of him.

"I'll meet you upstairs," she whispered and kissed him softly on the cheek.

Eating was the last thing on Dan's mind but he ate. Upstairs, he heard the water running, followed by the gargling sounds that made it clear his wife had brushed her teeth. He drained the wine glass and took the stairs two at a time. 

He headed for the bathroom to brush his own teeth. Kendra stopped him with one hand. She kissed him, pushed a tongue between his lips. "You taste like wine. Get undressed and join me on the bed."

A creature of habit, he lined his shoes up, dropped his socks and underwear in the laundry basket and his shirt and pants in the dry-cleaning basket. His cock throbbed and swayed as he walked to their bed. Kendra knelt in the middle of the bed. She moved over to make room. 

"Lie down," she instructed. He did. She leaned over the far side of the bed to retrieve something. "While you were at work I did a little shopping," she informed him. "Put your hands over your head." He did. In her hands, she held a small bar with two leather cuffs. "There is no place to attach cuffs to the headboard," she observed, softly. She smiled at her husband. "We might need a new bed." She picked up his right wrist and laid it in one of the cuffs and buckled it loosely. He could slip his hand out without much trouble. She laid the bar above his head and stretched across his body for his left wrist. Her breasts pressed against his chest and lower part of his face. She cuffed his left wrist and sat up.

She leaned over the side of the bed once again before turning toward his feet. She cuffed his right ankle, a cord was tied to a ring on the cuff. She stretched the cord up the inside of his leg and looped it through a similar ring on the right wrist cuff. Kendra pulled on the cord, drawing Dan's right ankle upward and bending his knee. 

"Is that comfortable?" she asked and when Dan nodded, she tied the cord off before repeating the process with his left ankle. Dan lay on his back, arms above his head, ankles pulled up, knees falling apart. His cock stood rampant over his lower belly.

Kendra trailed her fingers over his cock and he nearly came on the spot. 

"Hhm," she muttered in mock confusion. "What are we forgetting?" Her face brightened in an exaggerated smile, "Oh, the movie. You remember the movie didn't you?"

"Yes," Dan whispered.

"And you didn't jerk off?" 

"No."

She leaned across his body and allowed her nipples to trail across her husband's belly. 

"Where is it, baby?"

"I put it on my dresser."

Kendra kissed him and then climbed off the bed. She returned quickly with the thumb drive that held the edited video and she also had a final surprise. She plugged the drive into the media receiver and selected the USB input. On the screen, an image of Dan, in a very similar position on the bed, appeared. She paused the video and crossed to the bed carrying the remote and a red satin mask, the final surprise. 

She slipped the mask over his eyes and adjusted the strap behind his head. He could see nothing. Sounds of panting and teasing came from the direction of the TV as Kendra hit "play". 

"Oh, Dan, baby, you did real good," she purred. "Did you get a chance to watch this? God your cock is beautiful." Her fingernails trailed across his belly and his body bucked against the restraints. Dan's mind try to fill in the scenes he could only hear. The video reached the point when Dan had the camera, filming his wife fucking herself with the dildo. Dan felt her shift position. 

Without warning, her mouth closed around his cock. He strained to see something through the mask, desperate to envision his wife's mouth falling over his cock, while her eyes remained glued to the TV, watching her digital image shoving a latex cock into her pussy. He knew, from the feel of her leg against his side that her ass was facing him, but he couldn't see it, couldn't touch it. His wife's mouth left his cock. She knew his body too well. She wasn't ready to let him cum.

"Um, baby, I don't think your cock has ever tasted so delicious before." 

From across the room, the sounds suggested the video had reached the part of the recording of his mouth ravaging his wife's taut ass. He began to buck against the restraints.

"Ssh, baby, soon my love," she whispered. He felt one of her fingers trail across his lips. Her middle finger slipped into his mouth. He felt the bed shift as she leaned over the side of the bed. As she straightened, she pulled her finger from his mouth.  

One hand found his cock. Her mouth engulfed the head. The finger he had wetted began to circle his anus and his body stiffened. 

"Shh, baby," she hummed against the head of his cock, before deep throating him. She held there, her nose pressed against his balls. His body tensed, if she'd only move her tongue, even a little, or suck, even a little, he'd empty his tortured balls down her gullet. She didn't move. She waited for his body to relax and then pulled her mouth from him. He groaned in frustration.

Her hands left him. He heard a metallic or plastic snap. He felt her fingers grope beneath his balls. A slick finger pressed against his ass. He resisted a moment but her finger entered him without any pain. She pressed and her curled fingers pressed against him. She pulled her finger out, put it in, and then moved it in and out several times. Her fingers left him. Two fingers stroked his anus before slipping past his sphincter. She kept her fingers pressed deep inside his ass, stroking his prostate. Each stroke sent a fresh wave of fluid into his cock, swelling it even further. 

"Cum for me baby," his wife whispered before she began to move her mouth rapidly over the head of his cock. Her fingers pressed firmly against his prostate. And at last, long last, he came. There was no question, he had never cum this hard before. It seemed as if it had no end. He could feel cum filling his wife's mouth, and escaping her lips to run down his shaft and puddle atop the fingers that pressed against his ass. 

His body strained against the restraints. He clenched his fists, determined not to slide them free of the cuffs. Long moments passed before his back relaxed against the mattress and he was able to take a normal breath.

"Fucking hell, Kendra," he panted, repeating the phrase as if it was his personal mantra.

When he stilled, she took her mouth from his cock and her fingers from his ass. He gasped as the crown slipped past her pursed lips. 

The bed shifted. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her lips pressed hard against his. Before he knew what was happening her tongue parted his lips. His mouth filled with his cum, flowing from her mouth to his own. He swallowed reflexively and then forced his tongue deep in his wife mouth, swirling it around her teeth, over her tongue, and then sucking on her tongue. 




Love's Labors Ch. 03



He pulled his wrists free and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rocking her trembling body. She pulled away and slipped the mask from his eyes. He blinked, blinded for a moment by the bedroom lights. 

"So how many labors was that," he whispered as he nuzzled her neck.

"The blindfold and restraints were number five," she whispered into his hair. "Number six was fingering your ass and the snow ball was number seven." She kissed his cheek. "You've completed more than half your labors, Hercules."

"Too bad," Dan muttered. "I'm getting into this." He wiggled on the bed. He couldn't free his ankles. He couldn't reach his ankles now with her lying across his chest.

He fondle her hair. "I have to tell you something," he whispered. Something in his tone caused his wife to raise up to look at him.

"What?" she whispered, worry lines crinkling around her eyes.

"Uh, Mack saw a still shot of the video on my computer. He knocked and walked in before I could shut it off," Dan told her, simplifying the story somewhat.

Kendra chewed on her lower lip, staring off somewhere in middle space. 

"How did he react?" she asked, looking back at her husband.

Dan smiled. "Truth?"

"Of course," Kendra replied, looking worried.

"He said you were hot and wanted me to ask you if he could watch the whole thing," Dan smiled at her widening eyes. "That is as long as I didn't think it would piss you off."

Kendra rested her head back on his chest. 

"Well?" Dan prompted. "What should I tell him? I can tell him I decided not to ask you if you want."

Kendra sat up and fixed his eyes under a steady gaze. 

"You can give him both," she replied. 

Before Dan could ask her what she meant by "both" she leaned back and looked toward the foot of the bed. 

Alicia stood there, naked, camcorder in hand.