3 comments/ 28597 views/ 3 favorites Man Love By: Seamen I reached James' apartment around six. It was still light out. He had told me that he wouldn't be home until sometime around nine. Clearly I had arrived a little too early; it wasn't a problem, however, rather more time for me to get warmed up. He had given me his key before hand. I opened his door and stepped inside. Even though it wasn't his regular place, it was still a decent apartment - not too small, but just enough to be cozy. There were a couple of windows opening up to the view outside, but the curtains were drawn. A warm hazy light filled the room. The warmth extended itself to my extremities, and I felt instantly comfortable. I closed and locked the door behind me. I dropped the overnight bag that I had brought with myself, and took a deep breath. I walked into the single bedroom. There was a small double bed in the middle with plain white sheets on it - James' bed. This was the place where I would be squirming and cuddling all night. There were a couple of plain white pillows too - which would be at some point placed under me after being pushed down on my back. I felt a tingle down there at the thought of what was to come; the time for preparation had arrived. I undid my belt buckle and let my jeans fall to the floor. Underwear would only have got in the way and therefore had been avoided. I lifted my shirt over my head, and it joined my jeans on the floor. For the very first time I experienced the thrill of being naked in a strange place. The cool evening air swept over my nude body and gave me a little chill. I slipped out of my flip flops, to complete the element of nakedness. I put my hand on my neck, and traced it slowly over my chest and onto my belly. I slowly lowered it to my crotch and cupped my sac. I massaged it slowly, and felt my juice straining my balls.I had been saving up - I hadn't had a release in more than three weeks, for this encounter was not by any chance. I had been planning with James for this for a long time. Of course, he was only reiterating what I had suggested in the first place. James was just my kind of guy - dominant, strongly built, completely masculine - all in all, a fairly big, hairy guy. I felt my way across the side of the bed as I made for the small attached bathroom. The sheets on the bed, though they looked very ordinary, were very soft; I imagined myself on my back, with James pounding in and out of me, but let me not get ahead of myself. Next to the bed was a night stand. I opened the drawer - there were in it a tube of KY, a pair of handcuffs, a little plastic anklet and a dildo. I felt another tingle down there; I had specifically expressed my desire to wear an anklet - I had wanted to be a woman for him. There was no condom in there. There was no need for one, though. This was James, somebody I had known for a very long time; this was no ordinary stranger. I had wanted to feel him completely, one me, in me, without there being a condom between us. Moreover, James had expressed an interest in depositing his seed inside me; I couldn't say no to what he wanted. We had done it like this plenty of times, and I had loved it every time he had deposited his cum in me. I closed the drawer and stepped into the small bathroom. I felt another chill as I stepped from the carpet of the room on to the cold floor. There was a small tub; I could see myself getting fucked in there. On the counter there was a new razor and a hair removal cream. Now I had shaved the day before, but I wanted to be as smooth for him, and I dared not deny what he wanted of me. So, for the next hour, I painstakingly set out to remove every inch of hair from everywhere I could reach, and even where I couldn't. Now I am an average built guy, just a little pot bellied, and even though I was just 23, I had quite the hair growth on me, which I didn't like one bit. So I worked and worked, and at the end, I was quite content with the results. I had done my pubes exceedingly well, fully knowing that James would be busy down there for the next few hours. I wouldn't want him to get a rash rubbing against a two day stubble. I wanted him to feel just soft, smooth skin when he rubbed his cum all over my body. He had wanted me exceptionally clean. I took the handheld shower head, and screwed off the nozzle. I put my leg on the side of the tub, and placed the bare shower head against my sphincter, and pushed it in a little. I then slowly turned the tap; I trembled as the cool water entered me. It was a weird feeling as I felt the water fill my bowels. I let it run a little, then closed the tap, removed the shower head, sat down on the toilet, and released the water. Now, this wasn't really the same as giving myself a douche, but it was easier and less time consuming. I repeated the procedure until the water ran clean, and then another couple of times, just for making sure. For a grand finale, I filled myself up, then got down on all fours on the cold bathroom floor, relaxed myself, and let it all out. I relished as the water ran down my thigh; I was such a dirty, nasty slut. As the water left my body, I noticed a need to pee, which had been preempted by other things. Some instincts that are governed by discretion often overwhelm our senses, man being but the creature of bodily pleasure. As the last of the water left my ass, I arched my back, and gave way to instinctive bodily release. The clear stream flowed between my legs, and then as the pressure became weak, down my thigh. As the fountain spent itself, I shook my butt, almost automatically. I stepped into the still colder, slippery tub, and turned the shower on. I felt naughty as the water ran down my smooth body, and even naughtier as I soaped myself up. I washed myself thoroughly before I stepped out of the shower, and dried myself with a towel kept there for the purpose. James really had thought of everything. I put the towel back in its place, and walked back into the bedroom. It was warmer than the bathroom; a good thing, because I had no intention of putting any clothes on in any case. I walked around to the night stand, opened the drawer, and took out the plastic anklet. I sat down on the bed, and put it on my right ankle. I couldn't help admiring the feel of the soft sheets on my butt; James had wonderful taste in these things. Those sheets would be rubbing up against various parts of my body for the next few hours. I couldn't help but imagine, as I ran my hand over them - those sheets caressing me from below as James makes me squirm from above; heaven couldn't be much different from the moment which I had pictured in my head. I laid myself back on the bed, with my legs still hanging off its side, and savoured the delicious sheets under me. I pulled my legs in close against my chest, and put my arms over my head. I pointed my toes, and imagined James' cock sliding in and out of me. I rolled myself over, so that I was on my side, all curled up, and laid there like that a little while, my mind drifting off from thought to thought. I thought I heard a key turn, and then a door opened and closed. My heart raced. I sat up; the moment was here. James entered the room, and paused, and looked me up and down. Of course he had seen me naked plenty of times before, but he still looked at me as if this was the first time he was seeing me naked in person. A blast of wind had entered with him, and as it struck my body, I felt afresh the excitement of standing there, in my nakedness, before a man devouring me with his eyes. He threw me a can of Pepsi which he had brought in with him; he held a can of beer in the other. He had remembered that I don't drink. I placed the can on my neck, startling a little, as it was chilled - the droplets of water accumulated on it wetting my skin - and slowly slid it down my chest to my crotch, all the while looking at him. James stopped drinking his beer, and stared at me. I put the can against my balls, feeling their coldness shrinking them more and more. James moved towards me, and pushed me down on the bed on my back. He slowly tilted the can in his hand and poured the beer on my body.‭ ‬I shuddered as the ice cold beer touched my skin and slid down my chest. James knelt down, put his tongue to my belly, and traced the stream of beer up my chest. I gripped the headboard above my head with both hands and groaned as he poured the chilled beer on my nipple and lapped it up. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he almost seemed to be oblivious to the pleasure he was giving me. My body was just a plaything to him - a soft, smooth, sensuous object that was submissive and yet responsive under his big masculine hands. He moved back a little to survey his work. My nipples were erect, and the hair follicles on my chest - with no hair - were standing on end. I was extremely turned on - having saved myself for today by being without release for quite a long time - and would have had a raging hard on, had the cold beer not caused shrinkage. James looked at me - spread eagle before him, an expression of pure ecstasy on my face - a sight that further fueled his passion. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back on the pillow as he traced his fingers down my chest. I sighed as he lightly glazed his fingertips over my pubic area, avoiding my cock. I melted further into the bed as he moved his hand up my thigh and grabbed my shrunk balls. I almost shot my load there and then as he began to massage them, gently at first, and then winced as he slowly increased the pressure. I whimpered, suddenly, as he tightly closed his fist around my sack, and my body involuntary tried to move away from him, my toes pointing as I fought the urge to close my legs. Where I come from, tops are rare, and I knew that if I didn't make him happy, there were plenty of others who would. The only thing for me to was to let him have his way. I knew he would calm down once he got started, and the only thing I really wanted was for his big, thick cock to make me cum over and over again, today and for plenty of days to come too. So I just laid back as he squeezed my balls even more tightly, and my body tensed up and squirmed beyond my control. Suddenly he let go, and I jerked as he struck them hard with his fist a few times. I grunted and twitched every time his hand hit my sack, his blows getting stronger each time. But I made no attempt to protect the most intimate and delicate part of my body; I just laid there, gripping the headboard tighter and tighter with each blow, my eyes closed, my legs spread, vulnerable, open for him to tame and destroy. What good were a bottom's balls anyway? His balls, for example, had the important duty to produce sperm for him to breed his boi with. My balls, if anything, were but a plaything for him to play with, and in any way that happened to tickle his fancy. And I, on my part, was determined to let him have his way with my body in whatever manner he would see fit. I wanted him to return to my body again and again. I wanted him to need me to get off. "Oh!" The last blow he dealt was a bit too strong, and I let out a little gasp in spite of myself, and my legs closed midway of their own accord. Thankfully he had assured himself that I was most definitely his bitch, and the game stopped there. He got up off the bed, and went into the bathroom. A little later I heard the shower running. He was extremely scrupulous about cleanliness, and showered many times a day. It was precisely why I had to clean myself in and out every time before he would put his cock inside me. I closed my legs, and drew them up to my chest. I let go of the headboard that I had clung to for dear life, put my arms around my legs, and fell sideways, so that I was curled up in the center of the bed. I heard him turn the shower off, quickly sat up. In spite of the rough handling my balls had been subjected to, I felt a tingle down there. Several weeks' worth of cum would be spent. And, the best part of it was, it was well worth the wait. I like my dildo, but it is nothing like the real thing. James' cock was thick and long. Of course, it wasn't as big as what you've probably seen in porno movies or read about in erotic stories; it was all real. It was six, maybe seven inches long, which was more than enough for me, but the best thing was that it was thick - real thick. When I would put my hand around it, my thumb and finger would barely meet at the end. His cock was so thick that when he would cum in me, no cum would leak out until he had pulled out. And that is saying something, because his first load was usually quite thick and copious. During anal, he would fill me up completely; it was a delicious and intoxicating feeling. He entered the room absolutely naked, with his towel on his shoulders. I glanced down his hairy chest to his thick cock, his heavy balls, and strong thighs. He flung the towel on a chair, and moved towards the bed. I stood up as he came up to me, and kissed his chest - he had long before made it known that he disliked kissing on the lips - placing tiny kisses on his body as I moved downwards towards his manhood. By the time I reached his cock I was on my knees. His cock was semi-hard; watching a smooth boi teasing his body had had this effect, and I began work on bringing the monster to life. I ran my tongue down the base of his cock, and then took the whole thing into my mouth. I reached up and cupped his balls, but he flicked my hand away - I remembered now that he didn't like that. I concentrated on the task at hand, then, and licked and sucked his cock as if my life depended on it. I tried to do things just the way he liked; for instance, he liked me to run my tongue up and down the base of his shaft, and I did exactly that. He was getting turned on - I could tell. I could taste precum. I could feel him getting hard. Hell, I was getting hard. His smell was intoxicating. His taste was intoxicating. I let go of his cock, and bound my hands behind my back as he put his hands on my head, and started fucking my mouth. He had gotten quite hard now, and he started inching away into the back of my throat. I tried to relax and suppress m gag reflex as he pulled out, and then slowly tried to put his cock all the way down my throat. He wasn't completely successful, but he kept at it. Soon his pubic hair was tickling my nose. He was completely hard now, and his tip was buried deep into my throat. Saliva was dripping from my chin, but he didn't seem to mind. He let go of me and pulled out. I wiped my mouth and stood up. He walked up to the dresser, and took out a condom from the drawer. I hadn't looked in there when I was scavenging the room. I thought I saw gag ball in there before James closed the drawer. I looked questioningly at him. "It's for you," he replied to my gaze, and handed me the condom. I was almost hard already, but I started stroking myself to attention, and put on the condom he had given me as he went to the bed and laid down on his back. I followed him, climbed up on the bed between his legs, and began to suck his erect cock. He was fully hard now, all his veins pressed up against his skin. I climbed up his body a little further, till I was just above his cock, and then reached down and grabbed his cock, and lowered myself on him. I had lubed myself up plenty beforehand, thankfully. My eyes widened as his head touched my tiny hole, and I gasped as his head disappeared inside me, as it had done many times before. Slowly, I lowered my body on his, until his manhood was buried deep inside me. I straightened my back and raised my arms above my head. I closed my eyes and just relished the sensation of his big, thick cock inside me. I was rock hard now, my sheathed cock erect against his chest. I ground my hips against his cock. I turned and licked my inner arm. I was on fire. I felt James reach out and grab my cock. I looked down as he began to stroke me. I stiffened as I reached the point of no return, and then shuddered as I filled the condom with my boi-juice. My ass simultaneously squeezed James' cock, something which James had told me many times really turned him on. James kept stroking me as I came, and with my last spurts, he ran his large hand up and down my chest. I love it when he does that. My heart was pounding now. It took me a few moments to catch my breath, and then things became a little clearer. I realized now what he wanted me to do. I slowly took off the condom from my limp dick. I had cum quite a lot; waiting some three weeks will do that to you. But it was worth it - it had truly been a great orgasm. I raised the condom to my lips and drank every single drop of my cum from it. Watching this set his motor racing. His hands roamed up and down my smooth belly as I put my tongue inside the condom to clean out any remaining drops, and then put it aside, looked at James, and licked my lips. I saw a lust in his eyes as I had never seen before. He grabbed my hips, and started to fuck me, slowly at first, but then soon with a steady rhythm. I fell forwards towards him on the bed, and supported myself on my arms. My face was close to his, but I remembered that he didn't like to kiss, so I restrained myself. I was coming down an orgasmic high, and his cock moving in and out of me felt delicious. My ass was amply lubricated, and his precum had made his shaft more slick. His breathing was getting quicker, and I could feel his breath on my face, and I was sure he could feel mine on his. Maybe he didn't enjoy it as much as I did. He stopped. He pushed me off of him, and I reluctantly lifted my ass up in the air. His cock popped out of me. He pushed me sideways so that I was now on my back. He got up and walked up right in front of me, and pulled me closer to the edge of the bed. I wiggled closer to him so that my ass was hanging over the side of the bed, and pulled my legs closer to my chest. He reached out and began to stroke me. I was already semi-hard. I pointed my toes and gyrated my hips, almost automatically. He let go and headed back to the dresser. I put my hands above my head and held my breath in anticipation for what was to come. Of course I love to cum. But the desire, the phase where you know that somebody is going to make you cum, being naked in the presence of another man, hard and exposed, docile, submissive, cumming at the whim and fancy of another man - for me this feels almost as good as what it precedes. James returned with another condom, and roughly put it on me. For some reason this new game of his turned me on even more. I mean, yeah, of course I had tasted my cum many times before, even in front of him. But this was entirely different. This was some new kink that he'd picked up somewhere. And I just loved it. I moaned as he put his cock back into me, and prepared myself for a good fucking, but he had other plans. He reached out and grabbed me again, and began to pump my medium sized cock for all he was worth. I began to lower and raise my hips in rhythm to his pumping. I clutched the sheets above my head and closed my eyes. I was panting now, and I felt a drop of sweat run down my chest. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. James stopped. Here I was, panting and about to cum, with James buried deep inside my ass and still holding my dick, and there was a knock on the door. James pulled out of me and went to answer the door, while I scooped up on the bed and tried to catch my breath. James picked up his towel on the way, which I mused would never have hidden his enormous hard-on. I heard the door open and two people mumble something. Meanwhile I had my own hard-on to worry about. I rolled over and got on my hands and knees. I reached down and began to stroke myself. James had already warmed me up quite a bit, and I just kept myself on the edge; I wanted him to finish me off. Man Love I felt hands on my hips. James had returned. He entered me effortlessly and took a couple of long deep strokes. Evidently he found this position better, as he could go in much deeper and control the amount and speed of penetration more precisely. He pushed his cock inside me as deep as it would go, and I felt his heavy, hairy balls stack up against my own. His balls were much bigger than mine, quite well in proportion to his big cock. As he pulled halfway out and then slammed back in again, his balls slapped right back against mine, and gave me a little shiver. His hand slipped down my body to my cock, and I supported myself on both my arms to prepare myself for cumming. He pushed his cock deep inside of me and began to stroke me in earnest. I could feel his hairy belly on my back, and that sent me over the edge. I pushed against his hand, shuddered, and spurted inside the condom. James kept his hand pushed down on my cock as I emptied my sack into the rubber, and as James milked the last drops out of me, I let out a sigh of relief, and laid my head down on my arms in front of me. James carefully removed the condom from my shrinking cock. I was too sensitive, having just cum, and trembled at his touch. As he took the condom off me, I turned over and laid down on my back in front of him, with my legs on each side of him. I let out my breath and put my hands over my head. I was in post-orgasmic ecstasy. James held the condom up to my lips. I parted them, and he emptied it into my mouth. I took it all on my tongue, and then swallowed it in one gulp. My cum tasted very differently from James'; mine had a "tangy" flavour, while James' was more "salty." James was rubbing my thigh. I looked up at him. He flashed one of his rare smiles at me. He knew I was done for the day. He was giving me some reassurance. I welcomed this gesture, and smiled back at him. I pulled my legs up closer to my chest. He rubbed his cock against my puckered hole, and entered me swiftly in one push. I moaned, and lowered my legs, putting them on the back of his. He lowered himself on top of me, and propped himself up on his arms. I felt his hairy belly on mine, and had I not cum twice already, I would have had blown my load right there. I absolutely loved this position. I put my hands on his shoulders, and he began to fuck me with long, smooth, strokes. His breath was quick, and I saw sweat form on his forehead. He was getting close. He quickly picked up the pace and his strokes became short and rapid. "Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh," he went every time he withdrew his cock and slammed back into me. I played with his hair and looked right into his deep, hazel eyes. I wished he would kiss me. But he didn't. James was completely engrossed in what he was doing, however. It seemed like the only thing that mattered to him at that moment was my tiny fuck hole. I ran my fingers up and down his back and pulled him deeper inside me with my legs. All of a sudden, he tensed up. He straightened himself with a swift movement, pulled his cock out of me, and blew his load all over my belly. James had obviously been quite excited. His cum was pretty thick, and his spurts had long range. The first one hit my nipple. Followed by a grunt, the second one landed around the center of my chest. The third one landed on my belly around my navel, and the rest on my pubic region, just over my now completely shrunk cock. I squirmed and relished the feel of his warm cum on my belly and chest. Some drops had accumulated on my chest in tiny puddles, while the rest ran down my sides. James convulsed as he emptied his balls on my body, and then let out his breath as the last drops of cum oozed out of his tip. I ran my hand up and down his hairy chest, feeling the mass around his nipples, and his slight pot belly. I felt around his soft chest hair, and gave him a smile as he looked at me. He smiled back at me, as if praising a job well done. He sat like that for a moment, catching his breath, and then got up and walked to the bathroom. I put down my legs flat on the bed, and stretched out my hands above my head, and relished the moment, burning it in my brain for future fap sessions. I dipped my finger in a glob of cum on my chest and tasted it, and found that familiar taste I'd savoured on so many different occasions. I wiped myself off with paper towels. My chest was still sticky from James' cum, but that only set my dick tingling. I was pleasantly surprised, because I had already cum twice. A smile came over my face. I was delighted that I would be able to rub one more off to James' body. More memories for me. James came out of the bathroom wearing boxers. He picked up a magazine and laid down on the bed next to me. I snuggled in closer to him. My cock was limp, but I was turned on. I sought to correct this problem. I held my flaccid cock between the palms of my hand and began to rub them together. I could easily get off this way even if I wasn't hard. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, and my breathing got quicker. James caught on, and looked down from his magazine. I was really getting into it now. James put his big hand on me and moved it up and down my chest. He caressed my belly and played with my navel. I stiffened, and my body convulsed as I came. I didn't spurt much, but there were many dry pulses of ejaculation, and when I was done, I just laid back for a while, waiting for my breathing to become normal, as James lightly moved his palm over my smooth body. I put my head on James' shoulder and took a quick nap as he went back to his magazine. I wanted to spend the night, but James had plans, so we took off after a little while. I hoped in my heart that I had satisfied him, and made him happy, and that he would invite me back over soon. Man Loves Wife's Ass Too Much 01 Please give me the support of your vote. Man Loves Wife's Ass Too Much, #1 Perversely perverted, a husband loves his wife's ass a little too much. "I just love your ass Jennifer," said her husband Mike while reaching around her to feel and to fondle her shapely behind. "God I just can't get enough of your beautiful ass." Mike loved his wife's ass. Pounding her pussy while squeezing her ass, he looked at her with lust while she looked at him with boredom. Seemingly he was more in love with her ass than he was with her. She should make him a plaster of Paris imprint of her ass and paint it flesh tone to match her ass then maybe he'd leave her ass alone. "Enough about my ass Mike," she said swatting his hands away from her ass and then pushing her hands against his chest to look at him. "What about the rest of me? Don't you like my tits?" She removed her breasts from her nightgown to flash him her breasts? "What about my long, shapely legs? I thought you were a leg man." When he looked at her with lust again, she looked at him with disgust. "The rest of you? I love all of you but I really love your ass," he said groping her ass again while squeezing her ass before slapping her ass. He looked at her as if shocked that she didn't like what he said when complimenting her ass. "What else?" Already annoyed, she waited for him to dig himself out of the hole he dug himself in while giving him a chance to compliment her. "What else what?" He scratched his head obviously confused with her meaning of what else. "Yeah, what else? Tell me what else do you love about me," she said as if she was a teacher giving her student an on the spot test. "You have the best ass I've ever seen," he said smiling while obviously proud of himself that he gave his wife the ultimate compliment, albeit another ass compliment. By the look she gave him, seemingly if she had a gun, she would have shot him. "Fuck you, Michael," she said. Then, as if a light dawned and illuminated the dimness of his brain, he fell into the pillow talk about her having sex with another man. "Well, actually, I'd love to see you having sex with another man," he said. "I'd love for you to show your naked ass to another man. I'd love to know what another man things about your ass." She sighed loudly while rolling her eyes. "Michael stop. Don't do that," she said. She looked at him with anger. "Don't do what?" He looked at her with confusion. "Please don't talk about me having sex with another man while your cock is inside of me," she said pushing him off of her. "That's just wrong. That's just nasty. That just knocks me out of the mood." She extricated his penis from her pussy, stood, walked to her dresser, removed a panty of from her drawer, and climbed into them. Officially done, with him knocking her out of the mood for sex, their Saturday sex night was prematurely over. "What? Are you mad at me? What did I say? What did I do? C'mon baby, bring your ass over here." * * * * * That next Saturday, Jennifer pretended she was sleeping, yet somehow he always knew that she wasn't. Same thing every Saturday night, with the romance gone out of their marriage and with her just going through the motions to accommodate his sexual needs, this was their sex night. To her, with him so controlling, unspontaneous, and unromantic, sex with him was something else she needed to do and to endure to not rock the boat. Rather than complain, argue, and refuse him the use of her body, as if she was a rag doll or a blowup doll, she just gave him what he wanted so that she could roll over and go to sleep. What was never predetermined, what once was always erotically exciting, and what was always so surprisingly spontaneous before was now boring. A wifely duty, a womanly chore, and a Saturday night routine, she no longer enjoyed having sex with her husband. How so droll their sex life had become? How so predictably boring living with him now is? She wished for more excitement in her life but, as a married woman, other than to have a baby, which she can't have, what can she possibly do for sexual excitement? No doubt, if she confessed her concerns to her husband, he'd want her to have sex with other men. No doubt, if she confessed that she was sexually unfulfilled, he'd want her to participate in the swinging lifestyle. No doubt, if she confessed that she was bored having sex with him, he'd want to watch her having sex with someone else. A no win dilemma for her, she was trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who only loved her for her great ass. Her ass, her ass, his sexual lust was more for her ass than it was for her. This was it. Unless she masturbated herself in between, which she routinely did, Saturday night sex was her sexual excitement for the week. Having sex without the want, the need, the desire, and the romance was lifeless. Having sex without feeling the sexual excitement she once felt for him was now dull. Having sex with someone who only wanted her for her great ass was perversely revolting, belittling, and insulting. Having sex without being properly aroused, was lame and always the lackluster same without the sparks that they once had to ignite the flame. Having sex without the sexual attraction and the fireworks they once had was not nearly the same as when they first met, dated, and married. Their Honeymoon was unbelievable. The first two years that they were married, he couldn't get enough of her lips, her tits, and her pussy. Now, it's just her ass. Now everything is old, tired, and boring. Now everything is stale, boring, and the same. She wondered if all married couples were like this once they hit that seven year wall, better known as the seven year itch. She wondered if boredom and the same old thing was the reason why so many couples became swingers. * * * * * Sometimes wishing she was dead, Mike lightly touched her back as if feeling to see if she was still breathing and as if to see if her heart was still beating before reaching down to feel her naked ass through her nightgown. Unless he was pushing down on her shoulder as her not so subtle hint to suck him, always the first place he sexually touched her was her ass. Her ass, her ass, everything was about her ass. Instead of having a great ass, her way of denying him her ass, she wished she had a big, fat, flabby ass. Sometimes in the way that he touched her, especially after they've argued and when she didn't want to be touched sexually or wasn't ready to be touched sexually, he made her skin crawl, not a good feeling for a wife to have with her husband. Sometimes in the way he makes her feel, as if she's a thing that gives him sexual pleasure instead of a person who gives him love, comfort, and so much more, she wished she was divorced. Done with him and done with all men, sometimes she wished she lived alone. With him not very affectionate, never does he just hug her without grabbing her ass and without expecting her to suck him before fucking him. Never does he just hug her without his hand feeling and squeezing her ass. With him not very romantic, once in a while she'd think that he'd buy her flowers and/or tell her that he loved her. Instead of complimenting her on how she looks or on something she did, he's quick to complain. If he compliments her at all, with the rest of her seemingly invisible, he compliments her ass. Whenever he compliments her ass, she's so tempted to let out a loud and smelly fart. "How do you like me now? Do you still like my ass? Wait. I have another one coming. Bend over so that I can fart in your face." Obviously, he takes her for granted, especially in the way that he sometimes forces her to do things that she doesn't want to do, such as sex and especially blowjobs. She's given him so many blowjobs that now she dreads sucking his cock. She used to love blowing him but now she hates blowing him. She dislikes the taste of him with him always smelling like a stale cigar. Seldom returning the favor, she couldn't remember the last time he licked her pussy. Matter of fact, he licks her ass way more than he licks her pussy. If only he loved her pussy in the way he worships her ass, she'd have no complaints. Instead of being satisfied cumming in her mouth, now he wants to defile her by cumming all over her face and in her hair. He suddenly wants to give her a cum bath. What's that about? Maybe he's watch one too many Japanese videos on bukkake. When many wives don't suck cock and many of those who do, don't swallow, he's a lucky man that she not only has such a great ass but also that she's such a great cocksucker. Yet, no longer satisfied with cumming in her mouth and her swallowing his cum, now he wants cum all over her face. Obviously, in the way she does everything for him, cook, clean, and serve him, he'd be lost without her. She'd leave him if they weren't so entangled with their personal affairs. With this house, car payments, student loans, and with their credit card debt suffocating them, they felt so trapped. With him going his merry way while thinking everything is perfect, especially if she'd relent and have sex with another man while he watched, he was clueless that she was so unhappy and so sexually frustrated. * * * * * It was always the little things that bothered her the most. Even though she preferred and was more comfortable sleeping with panties, her not so subtle sign that she was ready for sex, she didn't wear panties on Saturday nights. Even if they were arguing all day, she knew better than to wear panties on a Saturday night. Why bother wearing panties when she'd only be removing them? If it was up to him, he'd rather that she'd go out to the store and to the mall without her panties. In that regard, she didn't even know why she even wore a nightgown to bed. Only, too blatant and a silly game they played, being that she never goes to bed naked, if she went to bed naked now on Saturday nights, she knew that he'd know that she'd be expecting sex. Impossible for her to change him now, she didn't want to make their sex anymore predicable than it already was. Unfortunately the only change he wanted to make was to have her have sex with another man, a man and a woman, and/or a woman. Unfortunately, the only changes he was willing to make to their sex life where ones that she was vehemently against. As if it was Sunday, her day for church, which he never attends with her, with it being Saturday night, he expected sex anyway. It was just a silly game that they played with them trying to act more spontaneous. Only how surprised could she be when she knew that every Saturday night he touched, felt, groped fondled, squeezed, slapped, and spanked her ass before climbing on top of her? Every Saturday night his hands were all over her naked ass while not making love to her but fucking her while talking about her having sex with another man. Sometimes he made her so sick to her stomach that she thought she'd puke. Even if she closed her eyes and pretended that she wanted him in the way she once did, the feeling just wasn't there. With him busy looking at other women, other than the obvious appreciation that he showed for her ass, he didn't appreciate the woman that he had in bed beside him. With their whole marriage now a farce, their entire life was just a silly game that they played over and again, every Saturday night. Maybe if she could have had children and maybe if they had a couple of kids, she'd feel differently about him and about her marriage but with nothing holding her to him other than bills and obligations, she doesn't. Even though she knew they were about to have sex, it was seemingly better to pretend that they may not be having sex. She only wished that he'd go to bed and just go to sleep. She could only wish that instead of having sex every Saturday night, he had sex with her Sunday morning. Wow! How hot would that be with her sitting in church while thinking that she just sucked and fucked her husband only a couple of hours before. Only, he'd never change his routine to adopt a different one, one more exciting, one that was more unpredictable, and one that made her happy for a change. Maybe just once, she'd like to initiate the sex. Maybe just once, she'd rather be the one in control. Only, with them having sex more about him than it was about her, she didn't have an orgasm but just pretended she did to make him stop and to make him leave her alone so that she could go to sleep. * * * * * A huge understatement, her husband loved her ass. Always touching it, grabbing it, groping it, feeling it, fondling it, squeezing it, slapping it, and spanking it, seemingly, he could never get enough of her beautiful ass. Always checking her naked ass in the mirror, she imagined her getting a rash on her ass from his hand always rubbing her shapely backside. Only, after a while, his horny hands were unwelcomely annoying. After a while, in the way that he was always groping her and making her feel like a thing instead of a person, she'd rather he kept his hands to himself and behave. After a while, admittedly enjoying the attention in the beginning, she was tired of him lifting her short skirt to flash her panties to men walking behind her at the mall. She didn't want other men, strange men, and/or perverted men staring at her panty clad ass. How embarrassing is that? With him not wanting her to wear panties and her drawing a line in the sand over that, glad that she was wearing panties, she hated when he exposed her panty clad ass to the world. Such a lack of respect for her, his wife, how could he do that to her? Could he embarrass her anymore? Could he humiliate her any further? Could he make her feel any more uncomfortable? Always swatting his hand away from her ass, she forever checked her skirt to see if it was raised while she walked. As if he was a pickpocket, he had a way of stealthily raising her skirt and tucking it up behind her oversized pocketbook or shopping bag. An exhausting game for her to be forced to play, his game was to expose her panties to unsuspecting men by raising her skirt and her game was to preserve her modesty by fluffing down her skirt. God forbid she should be carrying something with two hands, he'd raise her skirt up to her back. Something he's done before at their backyard drunken barbeque when she came out in the backyard carrying food, he's not only raised her skirt but also pulled down her panties. She thought she nipped that in the bud by wearing sweatpants to their barbeques but he'd wait until he had an audience and pull those down too along with her panties. Now instead of just flashing his friends her naked ass, he was flashing his friends her pussy too. "Michael! That the fuck?" Whenever they were at the mall, with her lugging her purse in one hand and a shopping bag in the other, he thought it funny to secretly raise her skirt when going up the escalator. Until she felt a draft, it always took her a few seconds for her to notice that her panties were in plain view to the men walking behind her or riding up the escalator behind her. As if she had a tick, she was developing a phobia from swatting his hand and checking the back of her skirt so much. "Stop," she said swatting his hand away and fluffing down her skirt. "Don't do that!" When he walked with her with his arm around her back, she always had to check to make sure that he wasn't lifting the back of her skirt high enough for men to see what they should never see of her and of his wife. When finally realizing that she was so exposed, pulling down her skirt but too embarrassed to turn around to look, she had no idea how many men he's flash her panties to over the years. Whenever he walked with an unopened umbrella he'd accidentally on purpose lift the back of her short skirt at the most inopportune moment. In the way of Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and Jennifer Lopez didn't always wear panties when out in public, he was always asking her not to wear panties. He had this sexual fantasy of her alighting from a car with her skirt up to her waist and with the sight of her trimmed, blonde pussy in plain view of men. He had a sexual fantasy of lifting her skirt while going up the escalator to flash her naked ass to the men standing behind her. He was always wanting her to go to the car wash on a windy day while wearing a short skirt without panties to vacuum out her car while he watched from a distance all the men ogle her naked ass. Willing to buy her shoes, he always wanted her to flash her panties or her naked pussy to the shoe salesman while trying on shoes. With her thinking him a pervert, he must think her a whore. She'd think that if he coveted her ass so much that he'd want to keep it all for himself. She'd think that if he so loved her ass that he'd be jealous of other men leering at her ass, lusting over her ass, and wanting her ass too. If he loved her, she'd think that he wouldn't want her to have sex with anyone but him. Yet now he's been asking her about participating in the swinging lifestyle. He not only wants to watch her having sex with other men but also he wants her to be a swinger. His focal point wasn't her long, lush, blonde hair, her pretty face, her C cup breasts, or her long, shapely legs, but her ass. Everything was about her ass. With all of his compliments and all of his dialogue about her ass, his attraction to her began and seemingly ended with her ass, literally and figuratively. If her husband of seven years was anything, and with him first to admit it, he was an ass man. No doubt, had she not been blessed with such a fine, tight, firm, and roundly defined, shapely ass, he never would have dated her forget about marrying her. Thinking that his physical and sexual attraction to her ass was adorably flattering before, if only she knew that his fixation with having a wife who had such a great ass was his biggest priority, she would have thought him weird. She would have thought him perversely perverted to cherish her ass more than any other part of her beautiful body, especially her beautiful face. Had she known he had such a fetish for her ass, she would have thought him abnormally obsessed with her ass. If she had known that he cherished her ass as much as he does, she not only would have stopped dating him but also she never would have married him. Too late now, with all of the money they owed, literally and figuratively, he owned her ass. Nonetheless his twisted infatuation with her ass, she was proud of her great ass. A one in a million type of ass, she attributed her shapely behind to taking ballet and gymnastics as a child. Then, when she stopped ballet and gymnastics lessons, she started ice skating and swimming. Later she lifted weights. Now, it's running and playing tennis. When she's not swimming, she's running and playing tennis. She always did something that seemingly paid dividends to her having a great ass and great legs for that matter too, not that he noticed her legs or anything other than her ass. Her ass, her ass, everything was about her ass. Seemingly the only time he complimented her was when he complimented her on what a great ass that she had. Seemingly the only time he noticed what she wore was when she was wearing a short skirt or filling out a tight pair of jeans. If only he looked her in the eyes instead of staring at her ass, she'd have more hope for the continued survival of their marriage. Only, seemingly, he didn't want any other part of her than her great ass. * * * * * Whether they were walking through the mall or watching television, a continual monologue, no one's ass was safe from his in depth commentary. As if it was his right to critique and criticize the asses of other women, as if he was the official ass man sworn to notice every woman's ass, he always commented about this ass or that ass. She used to be jealous that he was looking at other women's asses but secure in her own ass because she had such a fine ass, she's no longer jealous that he not only harmlessly looks at other women's asses but also that he comments on other women's asses too. The only time she felt a tang of jealousy is when he spots a better and a younger ass than she has now. Assuredly, it's only a matter of time before he makes a total ass of himself by chasing after some young, hot piece of ass. God, he's such an asshole. Man Loves Wife's Ass Too Much 01 "Wow! Jennifer, look at her ass," he said poking her in the side. "One in a million, she has an incredible ass. I'd like to tap that ass." She made a sour face at him as if she had just bit in a lemon. "Pardon?" Astonished that he just admitted that he'd like to tap another woman's ass, she looked at him as if not believing that she'd be interested in looking at another woman's ass. "Oh, um, sorry. It's just a figure of speech," he said. As if she was a black woman from Detroit, she affixed her hand to her shapely hip to wag her finger in his face. "You tap any ass but my ass buddy and I'll kick your ass out of my bed, out of my door, and out of my life," she said drilling her manicured index finger in his forehead. Most times she ignored his asshole, ass comments. Most times she pretended that she didn't hear him or didn't see this ass or that ass that he was going on about. This time, while taking note of the other woman's great ass, she rolled her eyes and sighed. The last thing she wants to look at, whether it's incredible, fat, flabby, saggy, hot, or not, is another woman's ass. "Now, there's a fat ass," he'd say after spotting a woman coming out of McDonalds. Seemingly with all the fat, flabby asses out there in the world, most times his comments were negative. Most times his comments were insulting. Most times he was just being a pig. Most times it was rare to see a great ass. If only the women at the mall or on TV knew that they were being examined, analyzed, and reviewed by a professional ass critic, they'd probably slap his face. What gives him the right to criticize any woman's ass when there's nothing great about his ass or about him? Yeah, sure he fills out a pair of jeans but it's just an ass. What's the big deal about a shitty ass? Whether it's Nicki Minaj, Kim Kardashian, Lady Gaga, Sofia Vergara, Beyoncé, Jennifer Lopez, Scarlett Johansson, Rihanna, Serena Williams, Coco, Jessica Biel, and/or Shakira, she's sick to death of hearing about other women's asses. Maybe if she commented on men's cocks in the way that he commented on women's asses, she'd finally get his attention by giving him a dose of his own medicine. Maybe if she showed as much interest and paid as much attention to other men's bulges as he does in other women's asses, he'd finally get the point. Maybe if she lusted over another man's cock in the way that he obviously lusts over other women's asses, he'd stop. She wished he'd shut the fuck up and keep his ass surveillance to himself. How dare he even think that she'd really want to look at another woman's ass? Only, if he thought she was lusting over another man's cock, he'd want her to have sex with that man while he watched. If he thought she was lusting over other men's cocks in the way that he obviously lusts over other women's asses, she'd never hear the end of it. "Michael," she imagined saying. "Did you see the bulge on that guy? Wow! He must have a really big cock. I can only imagine the enormous size of his prick. I wonder how big his cock is. I can't even imagine wrapping my hand around it before sticking that monster in my mouth and burying it in my pussy." Only whatever she said to him about another man's cock would surely backfire on her. "Oh my God, Jennifer, I'd love to watch you stroking and then sucking him before fucking him," she imagined him saying. "Do you want me to talk to him and ask him if—" "No! What's wrong with you? I only said that to make you jealous not sexually aroused." * * * * * He lifted the back of her nightgown to touch, feel, and fondle her ass before lightly tracing her pussy slit with his finger. Perhaps out of habit but she was already wet and once he determined she was wet, she closed her eyes while he penetrated her pussy with his finger. It was Saturday night after all, the night they had sex. Other than to touch, feel, grab, grope, fondle, feel, squeeze, spank, and slap her ass, never did he touch her during the week. As if he was a fighter in training saving himself for their Saturday night sex match, the only time he wanted her sexually was Saturday night. With every Saturday night the same, while his right hand fondled her ass and lightly touched her swollen pussy lips before fingering and penetrating her pussy, his left hand felt and fondled her big, left breast. As soon as her nipples appeared, which never took very long, he'd finger her nipple with the delicate touch of a lover. Then, as if scripted and they were acting the sex scene part in a movie, he'd stick his hand inside her nightgown to feel and fondle her right breast while fingering her nipple. Always the same, nothing ever changed. As if he was performing a religious rite instead of a sexual act, she could write a book about how methodical he was in touching her in one way before touching her in another. Only, she wanted more than that. She wanted the slow heat that sparked before erupting in fireworks in the way that she had when they first met, dated, and the first time they made love on their Honeymoon. She wanted to be romanced. She wanted to swoon. She wanted to feel appreciated. She wanted him to covet all of her and not just her ass. In the way his touches were always the same, if only for comparison sake and if only to try something different, he made her imagine being in bed with another man. She endured him touching her by thinking of someone else touching her while wishing she had married one of them instead of marrying her husband. If ever she told him that she thought of having sex with another man when having sex with him, she'd never hear the end of it. He'd make sure that he made her sexual fantasy come true whether she really wanted it or not. If only he knew she was thinking of another man while in bed with him, he'd call him on the phone and invite him over. If only he knew she was horny for the touch of another man, he'd welcome him to have sex with his wife, so long as he could watch. 'God, he's such a sick fuck.' When she turned to face him, he removed his finger from her pussy and extricated his hand from her nightgown. He kissed her once, twice, and then the third time with his tongue parting her lips. Three kisses, never two kisses or four kisses but always three kisses, the last one being a deep, wet kiss. As if he read and memorized a manual somewhere on how and what to do when having sex, having sex with him had become a boring ordeal. What happened to him? He was never like this before. Except for his obvious connection to her ass, he acts as if he's as bored as she is. Only, maybe he likes the routine. Maybe he needs the routine. Maybe he welcomes the routine of the same Saturday night sex as much as she hates the routine of having the same boring sex. What she once looked forward to having sex with him, she now dreaded having sex with him. If she tried to kiss him again for a fourth time, he'd turn his head away. As if he was a superstitious baseball player, a man afflicted with OCD, obsessive-compulsive disorder, or if he had been afflicted with Autism, he had to have sex in a certain way. 'What the fuck? That's so weird.' As soon as he kissed her the first time, she wrapped her hand around his cock and slowly stroked him. Then, after he broke off his third kiss, forsaking her hand, she lowered herself to make him harder with her mouth. Thinking that she was stuck in this Twilight Zone of the same looping Saturday night sex, now she wondered if she stroked and sucked him the same number of times as she did the week before and the week before that. Once he was hard enough and with him ready to enter her, she removed her nightgown and positioned herself on her back. One would think that in the way he had such a peculiarity for asses that he'd want to have anal sex with her but, not into that, they never had anal sex, thank God because she wasn't into anal sex either. Once she repositioned her pillow to get more comfortable and after she spread her legs to welcome him inside of her, he mounted her. Perhaps it had something to do with his age, but he humped her exactly thirty-seven times before coming inside of her. As if he kept count in his head, never humping her thirty-six times or thirty-seven times, he humped her exactly thirty-seven times. Now she wondered if he humped her thirty-six times last year or if he'd hump her thirty-eight times next year. If he did indeed match his humps to his age, she was looking forward to when he was eighty-years-old. '...seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty!' Only, she didn't think she'd be married to him when she was eighty-years-old. She'd either kill him or divorce him long before that. Finished but not quite done, now it was time for pillow talk. Glad that she broke him of the habit of talking about other women when he was inside of her, she was glad that he saved his pillow talk for after they were done having sex. Yet, with his disturbing topic of discussion never changing, even his pillow talk was the boring same. Maybe she should surprise him. Maybe she should shock him. Maybe she should finally take control of their sex life. "I'd like to try having sex with another man and maybe even have sex with a woman," she said, "while you watch." To be continued... Please give me the support of your vote.