13 comments/ 79678 views/ 31 favorites My Husband, My Life Pt. 01 By: xleglover Note: All characters in this story are over 18 years of age Chapter 1 – High School I guess I should start by describing myself. My name's Jen. I'm 38 now, and I've been married 14 years. My husband Michael's 40. I'm blonde, and people tell me I'm pretty. I'm 5'2" and petite. I have smallish breasts -- 32A or B, depending on the bra type. My legs are my best feature. I guess I qualify as a leggy blonde. I majored in ballet and modern dance in college, which was pretty useless when I tried to get a job after graduation, but helped make my legs look even nicer. I guess everything started when I was in high school. Back then my ass and legs were already shapely, although my chest had barely started developing. My girl friends and I were coming home from a movie. Suzanne's dad was driving us home. I often caught him leering at me, which always creeped me out. I was sitting in front next to him. Suzanne and my other 2 girl friends were in the back. It was late and the drive was long, so we were all starting to fall asleep. Suddenly I felt Suzanne's dad's hand on my leg. I was wearing a short skirt and tights. He started at my knee and started moving up my thigh. I looked over at him and he pretended like nothing was happening. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't say anything because I didn't want to wake up my girl friends. I certainly didn't want Suzanne to know her dad was a pervert. So I stayed silent. He was caressing my thigh. Then he started moving underneath my skirt. I tried to stop him but he was stronger than me and pushed my hand away. His hand moved under my skirt, and then he pushed between my legs. I tried to hold them together but, again, there wasn't much I could do without waking up my friends. So I decided to just endure it, because I knew we'd be home soon. He started rubbing my pussy through my tights and panties. I felt helpless to stop him. It was humiliating. I felt even more humiliated when I started feeling pleasure from what he was doing to me. He rubbed hard against my clit, and I bit my lip to stop from moaning. I looked over at him and he still pretended like nothing was happening, looking straight at the road. He kept rubbing my clit, and then my orgasm hit me. I couldn't help moaning, but it was through clenched teeth and the radio was on, so my girlfriends didn't wake up. By this time in my life I was masturbating, so I knew what an orgasm felt like. But this was the most intense and pleasurable orgasm I had ever had. It lasted forever. My whole body shook, and I felt like a flood of pleasure flowed from my toes to the tips of my fingers. *********************** I wasn't allowed to date until later. But I made up for lost time. I was pretty, popular and a cheerleader, so boys asked me out a lot. Kissing and heavy petting started early. But I was never so promiscuous to get a bad reputation. I mean, I wasn't a slut, just a normal teenager. Later that year I lost my virginity. I was still in high school, and he was a hunky college sophomore I'd been dating. How was it? Well ... it was... just okay. It didn't hurt as much as I feared, but I didn't orgasm. Still, I was happy to no longer be a virgin. In high school I almost always wore short skirts. My friends were all developing breasts. It took me longer to develop. My legs were always long and shapely, so to compete with other girls I wore short skirts. This was easy because I was a cheerleader, and even when I wasn't wearing my cheerleading outfit I wore a short skirt. In the warmer months my tanned legs were bare, but when it was colder I wore tights or pantyhose. In my school you had to get at least a C+ average in all your classes, or you couldn't play sports. My worst class was math. During my senior year I failed the mid-term math exam, and I was about to be kicked off the cheerleading squad. I felt like my life was ruined. I begged the math teacher, Mr. Gomez, to let me re-take the exam. He agreed, but he said I first had to take extra lessons after school, or else I'd probably just fail it again. By this time in my life I knew how to tease guys. I impishly decided if Mr. Gomez forced me to take these after school study sessions, I'd tease and torture him. On the day of the first study session, I wore a snug turtleneck, short skirt, tights and flats. I purposely fidgeted in my seat, crossing and re-crossing my legs and letting my skirt inch up my thighs. Mr. Gomez sat at his desk and quizzed me, all the while ogling my legs. The next day I intentionally dressed like a school girl, knowing a lot of older men like Mr. Gomez liked that. I wore a short pleated skirt, starched tailored blouse, knee high socks and saddle shoes. My friends teased me all day about my "uncool" outfit (saddle shoes?), but it was worth it. The whole time I felt Mr. Gomez's eyes on me. When I spoke he didn't look at my face. Instead he looked at my mouth, like he was imagining what it would be like to kiss me, or feel my lips around his you-know-what. It went on like this for a week. I have to admit, teasing him turned me on. It was thrilling to have this power over him. Every night I played with myself to an incredible orgasm. The next week I re-took the test, but only got a C- (to this day I suck at math). I was devastated, and knew I'd be kicked out of cheerleading. I was near tears when I felt Mr. Gomez's hand on my arm. His eyes were on my chest. "I know cheerleading is important to you," he said. "There might be something you can do to raise your grade ... if you can keep a secret." I felt his hand on my back, tracing along my bra strap. "I won't do that," I said warily. Teasing was one thing, but I wasn't going to prostitute myself. "No, no, not that," he said hurriedly. "Then -- what do you want?" He looked nervous. Looking back, I think he planned all of this from the start, but he knew how much trouble he'd be in if he got caught. "Do you swear you'll never tell anyone?" he said. He tried to sound domineering, but I sensed his uneasiness. "If you say anything, I'll deny it all and get you expelled. Getting kicked out of cheerleading will be the least of your worries." I nodded. I didn't know what to expect, but his nervousness made me feel more confident, despite his threats. "Take off your shoes," he demanded. "What?" looking bewildered. "Please," he practically pleaded, abruptly losing his domineering demeanor. I stepped out of my flats. He ogled my feet, and then his eyes moved up my legs. "Turn around and walk to the wall, and then walk back. Slowly." I did as he asked. It was weird, but harmless. The entire time his eyes hungrily ogled my legs and feet. "So beautiful," he said longingly. "Now pull up your skirt." He saw the alarm on my face and quickly added, "I won't touch you! I just want to look!" He hadn't touched me – other than briefly rubbing my back – and I could always scream or run away. The door was closed, but not locked. So I felt safe. I lowered my hands and raised my skirt. "Please, more, and slowly," he begged, when I stopped just below my panties. I couldn't believe the change in Mr. Gomez. Just moments ago he had been the dominating teacher. Now he was practically groveling at my feet. I couldn't believe how much power I had over him. It aroused me. "Do you promise to give me an A?" I asked, wanting to test my new found power. "Not just for this test, but for the rest of the year?" "Yes!" he agreed immediately. "Now, please, just raise your skirt, I want to see –" Mr. Gomez's words choked off as I raised my skirt to my waist. My black tights weren't quite opaque, so he could see through to my lacy bikini panties. "Are you a virgin?" he asked, the words almost catching in his dry throat. "No," I answered truthfully. I wasn't very experienced – having only done it once – but didn't say that. He moaned, like my confession had given him physical pleasure. He fumbled at his zipper, and took out his penis. It was hard, and he started beating off, not taking his eyes off my legs, feet and panties. Seeing him like that, knowing I was the reason he was so excited, made me flush with arousal. So when he asked -- "Can I touch you, just a little?" – I nodded my head. He covered my mound with his hand. "You're so wet," he said, and I knew it was true. I moaned when he rubbed me, desperately wanting the pleasure and release of an orgasm. Suddenly our roles were reversed again, with him having the upper hand. He rubbed me harder and faster, and I clung to him for support. He probably felt my breath against his chest as I panted into his shirt. He knew I needed release, and that gave him confidence. "I knew you weren't a virgin," he hissed into my ear. "You've been teasing me on purpose, haven't you?" "Yeah," I moaned. At that moment I would've said anything to keep him rubbing me, although here my admission was the truth. He grunted, satisfied. "I knew it! You're a dirty teasing slut, a cock teaser, admit it!" Surprisingly, I found his taunting a turn-on. Instinctively I began playing along. "You're right, I like to tease, it turns me on!" He stopped playing with himself, and with that free hand, he groped my small breasts. "A slut, that's what you are, and you fuck them after you tease them, don't you slut, don't you?" he sneered, rubbing my nipples through my blouse and bra. Mr. Gomez's rough handling of my pussy and breasts was too much, and my body shuddered with an incredibly intense orgasm. I collapsed into his chest, and he immediately began humping me. Wearing panties and tights, there wasn't a chance he could penetrate me, which is good because I'm not sure I'd have the will to stop him. But he didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed to savor the feel of my wool tights against his penis. Within moments he grunted, and then I felt a warm wetness spreading over my tights. Chapter 2 – College Part 1 I went to a large northeast college. During my first semester I dated a few guys, and then started going steady with a senior who was pre-law. Kyle was a real catch. He was tall and handsome, had a great future as a lawyer, and his parents were well-to-do (they lived in a hugely expensive mansion in Greenwich). Despite his incredible good looks, sex with Kyle was just so-so. It's not that we didn't have sex. Kyle wanted it all the time. He loved my long legs, and my breasts had finally developed. He loved getting blowjobs, and I loved giving them because he was really big so it was exciting to play with him. But in the six months we dated, he never once made me cum. He was handsome and had a nice body, but he didn't excite me. I became really good at faking orgasms. I'd arch my back, curl my toes, dig my nails into Kyle's back and moan. Sexually I was frustrated. I wanted REAL toe curling orgasms. So far in my life, the only men who'd made me cum were Suzanne's dad and Mr. Gomez. I started worrying that I could only get off with perverted old men. Then Kyle took me to a concert. Michael, the guy I eventually married, was going with us. Kyle and Michael were best friends from Kyle's hometown. He was nice, but not nearly as good looking as Kyle (and, as I later learned, not nearly as well-endowed). He was really smart but shy (kinda geeky), not confident and charismatic like Kyle. That evening before the concert, Kyle and I were on the sofa in their frat house. Michael sat next to us. Kyle and Michael watched a football game as we waited for the concert to start. I wore a blouse and short skirt, and I was curled into Kyle's arm with my legs under me. Michael couldn't keep his eyes off my legs, but he wasn't obvious about it, so I pretended not to notice. Bored with the game, and feeling mischievous, I playfully tickled Kyle. Kyle tickled me back, and soon we were rolling on the sofa. As we did, I let my mini-skirt ride up, exposing more of my legs to Michael. While Kyle was tickling me, I extended one of my legs until my toes pressed into Michael's leg. Then my foot "accidentally" traveled up Michael's thigh and rubbed against his crotch. Although it was a momentary touch, I could tell he was hard. I quickly pulled my leg back as Kyle rolled me over, satisfied he had won our tickling match. I pulled my skirt down, giving Michael an innocently "oops" look. I had gotten good at this, teasing guys without letting them know I was teasing. I was a little aroused, too. The concert was fun, and we were all a little drunk when we got back to the frat house. Jake, another frat brother, pushed a big cup of beer into my hand as soon as we walked in. Kyle and Michael went to the next room to see who had won the football game. That left me standing with Jake, who soon dragged me onto the dance floor. Another football game must have started, because I didn't see Kyle the rest of the night. The frat house was really crowded, and the party was a haze of beer, loud music and more beer. Jake was taller and more broad shouldered than Kyle, and nearly as handsome. As we danced he maneuvered me down a dark hallway. We were both drunk, so when he started kissing me I didn't immediately stop him. Emboldened, Jake dragged me into a walk-in closet. With his tongue down my throat, he started fondling me, one hand fondling my breasts and the other working under my skirt. I should have stopped it, but I was sexually frustrated with Kyle, and Jake felt so good. Being felt up by my boyfriend's fraternity brother, with my boyfriend just down the hall, was so deliciously naughty. Jake pulled up my skirt and pushed his hand down my pantyhose, making me groan. Since I didn't wear panties under pantyhose, his fingers expertly teased my pussy which I kept bare except for a thin landing strip above my clit. Impatient, Jake tore open my blouse, the buttons flying everywhere. I yelped as he ripped off my bra. "Not so rough!" I complained. "Sorry," he said, his eyes hungrily ogling my bare breasts. His hands fondled by breasts and rubbed my nipples. I reached down and felt his hard-on. Crazed with lust, Jake lifted me onto a table, pushing my skirt up around my waist in the process. He pulled off my pantyhose so fast I barely had time to wiggle out of my flats. He pulled me to the edge of the table and pushed inside. I grimaced as he entered me, his cock thicker than Kyle's. He started slow but was soon pounding me. "God, you don't know how long I've wanted to do this!" he gushed. Within moments his body tensed, and I felt powerful jets of jism splashing inside me. He collapsed on top of me, panting and shuddering from post orgasmic spasms. The next morning I woke up with a terrible hangover. Worse than the headache were the feelings of shame. God, I couldn't believe how slutty I'd acted. I hadn't even made Jake wear a condom, which I always insisted with Kyle. I checked my messages. Kyle had called twice. Jake had called too. I listened horrified as Jake confessed he loved me, and he wanted me to break up with Kyle and go out with him. God, didn't he know a one night stand when he saw one? It wasn't even a good one, at least not for me. Jake had cum so fast, although it probably wouldn't have mattered. While the naughtiness had made it initially exciting, I hadn't been close to an orgasm. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I get off with these hot guys? Later that week I broke up with Kyle, and made it clear to Jake I didn't want to go out with him. There wasn't a spark with either of them (romantic or sexual), so I thought it better for everyone if we just ended it. The funny thing is, I became really good friends with Michael. We kept running into each other and discovered we had a lot in common. After a month we started casually dating. Sex started soon after. Michael had a huge crush on me, and while I wasn't sure of my feelings for him, he was comfortable and fun to be with. Michael didn't have the ripped body of guys like Kyle and Jake (and he had a small you-know-what), but he was a considerate lover, and he knew how to eat pussy like nobody's business! He never gave me the toe-curling orgasms I'd had with Suzanne's dad and Mr. Gomez, but at least he made me cum (unlike Kyle and Jake). Most Fridays we went to the student union happy hour. We avoided going to the frat house because I didn't want to see Kyle or Jake. On this particular Friday, Michael was getting us beers when Jake showed up and started hitting on me. His hands were all over me, and he tried to kiss me. Later that night Michael and I were in bed, making love. "I don't understand why you got so upset," he said. "Jake's harmless." "Harmless? His hands were all over me!" "You can't blame guys for hitting on you. You're such a tease." That surprised me. I grabbed Michael's arms, stopping his movement. "What did you just say?" "Come on, don't play coy. You're always teasing guys with your hot body. There're a lot of guys who'd like to get into your pants. You should hear what the guys say at the frat." "What do they say?" I asked intrigued. Michael began fucking me again, moving slow as he whispered hot breath into my ear. "Gang bangs. Cocks in your pussy, ass and mouth. Cumming all over your pretty face." "Oh my god," I said, shuddering at the images. "Don't you get mad?" Michael hesitated. "Not really," he said, then added hesitantly, "To be honest, it excites me when they talk about you that way." "Really?" I'd heard about guys who fantasized about their girlfriends (or even wives) having sex with other men. I never imagined shy and straight-laced Michael would have such kinky fantasies. "Can I ask you something? Did something happen between you and Jake back when you were going out with Kyle?" "Um ... why do you ask?" "Well, Jake's been saying he nailed you at a party, back when you and Kyle were going out." "He says he nailed me, huh?" I repeated coldly. I again stopped Michael's movement inside me, not liking where this conversation was going. "Okay, Michael, if you want to know I'll tell you," I said in an annoyed voice. "Yes, I let Jake fuck me. I cheated on Kyle. Is that what you wanted to know? Are you hap – " "Fuck, I'm cumming!" Michael grunted, lurching violently inside me. Later, as we lay side by side in the dark, Michael asked the question I was expecting. "Have you cheated on me?" I turned over on my side to face him. "Michael, we haven't agreed to be exclusive," I said gently. "So you HAVE cheated on me." I sighed, not wanting to get into this. I liked Michael, but we were friends mostly, fuck buddies on occasion. I didn't want him to get possessive. Honestly, I didn't think he had the right. But he was my friend, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Reading my feelings, he squeezed my hand reassuringly. "I'm not mad, just curious," he said excitedly. "Who have you been with?" I hesitated, then saw the tent formed in the sheet around Michael's crotch. "Brad, from my modern dance seminar," I answered warily, only half believing Michael was more interested than jealous. "From your dance class?" he said with a smile in his voice. "I thought all those guys were gay." "No they're not, you jerk!" I said, playfully stabbing him in the side. "Tell me what happened." I looked at him quizzically. "This really turns you on?" "Yes, it does!" he said, pulling on another condom and entering me. "Tell me first about Jake. What was it like cheating on Kyle?" "It excited me," I admitted, the memories of three months ago still fresh in my mind. At the time my enjoyment had been dulled by feelings of shame. But Michael's obvious delight and unconditional acceptance in my naughtiness washed away the shame and allowed me to remember just the excitement. "Jake fucked me in the storeroom next to the kitchen." "He did?" Michael said excitedly. "We were in the kitchen most of the time, playing quarters. You were fucking Jake just on the other side of the wall, where me and Kyle were sitting." My Husband, My Life Pt. 01 "Oh god, really?" I panted, more excited than I'd been in a long time. "Jake had me on the table," I said, re-living the moment. "My blouse was open. He had ripped off my bra, and pulled off my pantyhose. My skirt was around my waist, and Jake was between my legs. God, I can't believe Kyle was just a few feet away as Jake fucked me. Jake had taken off his shirt, and I remember thinking how his chest was so much nicer than Kyle's. How his penis was so much thicker than Kyle's." "Ugh fuck!" Michael growled as he came. Then, unbelievably, my body tensed, and incredible orgasmic pleasure shot from my clit and traveled like bolts of lightning to every part of my body. My orgasm was so intense I think I momentarily passed out, and for long moments as I lay under Michael's heaving body I felt tremors of orgasmic pleasure shudder through my body. I couldn't believe what had just happened. For the first time in my life, I experienced an orgasm through intercourse. And what an incredible orgasm it was. From that moment, I started thinking of Michael as someone who might be more than just a casual, temporary relationship. "Tell me about Brad," Michael asked the next night as we lay in bed. I inwardly shrugged. "It only happened once. He wasn't that good. Honestly, it only happened because I was so mad at Monica." "Who's she?" "She's a dance major too, a senior. Brad's a senior too. They've been going together since forever. Monica's a teaching assistant, and she told me I'd never be a professional dancer. In front of everyone! God, I was so mad!" "How would see know? Is she good?" "No, she's a fat cow! But her dad's a producer on Broadway, so she's a shoe in to get a part after graduation." "So you fucked her boyfriend to get back at her?" "Brad's more than her boyfriend. They just got engaged." "Really? So you seduced him, and got him to cheat on his fiancée. Do you realize how hot that is?" "I don't know. It was kind of exciting, I guess. But I felt so terrible the entire time I didn't enjoy any of it." Michael rolled on top. He pulled on a condom and entered me. "Why? Don't you see how great this is? Whenever they're making love, Brad's thinking about you, not Monica. He'll probably be fantasizing about you on their wedding day." "Sometimes I feel like a slut," I admitted. "What's wrong with that?" Michael grunted as the pace of his fucking picked up. "You're the sexiest, hottest woman I've ever met! I love it you're such a bad girl! I wouldn't change anything about you!" Once again, Michael's unconditional acceptance and unbridled enthusiasm of my naughtiness masked my feelings of shame and guilt, allowing me to feel just the excitement and wicked pleasure. "Oh god," I moaned as I felt an orgasm building inside me. He's going to do it again, make me cum from intercourse, I thought. Moments later, I had a glorious orgasm. The next day, Brad pulled me aside after class. "Listen, Monica feels really bad for insulting you the other day. She wants to apologize." Remembering the night before, I smiled impishly. "So should I apologize to her for fucking her fiancée?" Brad looked at the door nervously. "Not so loud!" he hissed. "I just wanted to tell you she's going to apologize. She's even thinking about asking you to be one of her bridesmaids." I raised an eyebrow. "Really?" We were alone in the studio, but someone could walk in at any time. I smiled conspiratorially at him. "Just think how great that would be." I reached over and cupped his crotch. "You could fuck me on your wedding day." Brad's face turned mean, but there was lust in his eyes. "Damn you're a nasty bitch!" I got on my knees, shuddering from my wicked naughtiness. "You know I'm better than Monica." I stroked his hard-on. "She'll never do what I'll do." "What are you going to do?" Brad gasped, his voice catching in his throat. "First I'm going to suck you," I said in a husky voice. "Then I'm going to let you fuck me in the ass." As I looked into Brad's face and watched him flush with surprise and excitement, I wasn't thinking of the handsome athletic man before me, but of my boyfriend Michael, and what a wonderful story I'd have to tell him tonight.