52 comments/ 87732 views/ 14 favorites The Good Wife Ch. 01 By: tazsis1 Chapter 01: New Lover Just past midnight on Friday night Stephanie, my wife, finally called. G: Hello? S: It's me, love. I'm going to be late. G: Are you okay? S: Yes, I'm fine. A good party. I'm a little drunk. I've been dancing and my feet hurt so, so much. G: Sounds fun. Do you want me to come and get you in the car? S: No, no. [Pause] Geoffrey... I've met a man and I'm going on to another party with him. He'll bring me home, later, probably much, much later. [A long silence] S: Geoffrey? G: Yes. I'm here. S: Please don't use that tone with me. You know I don't like that. We've talked about this many times, you know it was bound to happen -- sooner or later. G: Are you going to have sex with him? Who is he? Why are you doing this? S: I'm not sure, maybe. You don't know him. But that's not your concern. You knew this would happen, sooner or later... and you're being childish, Geoffrey. I don't like this. Please, be good. I'll be home later. We can talk about it all then. Go to sleep. G: Please, Stephanie, I love you. S: Of course, I know that. See you later. Get some rest and, Geoffrey, absolutely no wanking. And then she hung up. I put the phone back in its cradle on the wall and stood there stock still for five or ten minutes, maybe longer. I was dizzy with the fragmentary, unfinished thoughts rushing through my head. I remember feeling sick with dread and confused, so confused. I felt anger and jealousy, too, but these were secondary. Stephanie and I have been married for seven years. She is a statuesque woman, nearly six foot tall, red haired, always cut short, and pale skinned. She is beautiful and elegant and intelligent. Her manner is business like and slightly severe, slightly manly, softened by a dazzling smile which she deploys sparingly, and a physical grace that comes from her training as a dancer. I know many men who are frightened of her, and many women who admire her forthrightness. She is 40-years-old and at the height of her physical beauty and power. She has had affairs before, of course, but I didn't know about them until they were over and they were always "at work", with colleagues or clients. She explained them as part of her work, part of getting promoted or landing a sale. I had not right to know about these, nor was I allowed to object or have much of an opinion on them. It was, simply what Stephanie wanted and what she did. Over time, I came to accept these affairs. Stephanie would come home and tell me about her adventures and we'd have sex -- somehow it gave our love making an edge; somehow I came to love the fact that my wife was so desirable to other men and could be a slut at the office, would allow a man to see her naked, would fuck a man or suck his cock just to get ahead. I loved her of course, and she loved me -- she always came home to me. I have always believed that I was the one she loved despite all the philandering. And now, I had to go along with what Stephanie was doing with this new man, but I feared what it meant, where it might lead, the change it might bring to our marriage and our home. This was different from previous sexual encounters because I knew about it in real time, because she was out with him now. I began to descend into my particular heaven or hell -- that special subspace known only to willing cuckolds, full of fear and humiliation and breathless, stomach churning excitement. This budding affair felt real and threatening. I wanted to talk to Stephanie, to discuss what she was doing, I needed reassurance. But she was out with him at some party or in some hotel room, and I knew better than to try to call her on her mobile phone. Much later, several glasses of wine later, I fell asleep in my reading chair in the sitting room. I woke up at 3am. I was cold and my neck hurt from lying awkwardly. Stephanie was not back. I went out onto the balcony to clear my head. Below, parked across the street from our fourth floor apartment, was a big fancy black Mercedes with its interior was lit up. I knew immediately that this was the man's car and Stephanie was in there. How long had they been there? What were they doing? I stood and watched for about 15 minutes. Were they kissing or fucking, was she sucking on his cock or fighting off his advances? My reverie was suddenly broken when the passenger door swung open and Stephanie stepped out. She was a little unsteady on her feet. She pushed the door shut and walked across the road to our entrance. Her crumpled jacket hung from one hand, her work case from the other. Her hair was a mess. A gust of wind blew open Stephanie's white blouse exposing her high little breasts. Her blouse was unbuttoned all the way down and not tucked into her skirt. At some point in the evening she had lost her bra. At this late hour, she didn't bother to cover herself up, just walked tiredly on and into our block, her breasts exposed to the cool night air. I was instantly wracked with anxiety and jealousy; my stomach felt tight and I was breathing heavily. My rigid penis tented in my trousers. I sat back down in my reading chair in the dark front room to wait for her. The keys scraped in the lock and Stephanie let herself in. She saw me sitting in the front room straight away. She dropped her case and jacket on the floor, kicked off her shoes and released the buttons on her skirt, letting it fall to the ground at her feet, just inside the door. She let her blouse fall form her shoulders, slide down her arms and slide to the floor. "Hello my love. Have you been sitting there all night, waiting for me?" She walked towards me, a deliberate, slow, swaying walk. He gorgeous legs in hold-up stockings, her sheer black panties clinging wetly to her cunt. She held her arms behind her, arching her back a little and presenting he breasts. As she came closer I noticed big splashes of cum on her neck and breasts. She came to a halt just in front of me, put her hands on her hips, set her feet apart and let me admire her. I reached out, turned my reading lamp on and tilted it up to illuminate her body. The front of her panties was soaked and shiny. I reached for her and ran a finger tip from the bottom of her cunt to the top along the front of her panties. "I've not had an orgasm tonight. I am so hot and wet there." She pressed herself against my fingers. "I refused to fuck him. Not on a first date." She laughed at her own joke. "But he insisted on groping my tits, had his hot paws on my cunt and arse all night, and I gave him a blowjob, just now in the car, and he came all over me. That's all that happened, my love." Stephanie smiled down at me. She knew the effect this was having on me -- molten jealousy and dread alongside excitement of the deepest and darkest kind. I was rigid in my trousers. Her breasts were red in places from his rough handling and pinching. Long streaks of ejaculate clung to her skin, still wet. She scooped some in her fingers and held out her hand towards me. I lent forward and opened my mouth, licked and sucked her finger clean. I tasted the man's cum carefully and swallowed it. "His name is Thomas Lang. He's fifty-five, a bit fat and hugely rich and powerful and arrogant. You'd hate him. He's irresistible." She continued to clean off her breasts and to feed me the man's cum. fingers. It tasted bitter, almost medicinal. It was heavy and glutinous. "In the cock department he makes you look like a boy, my love. I nearly broke my jaw sucking on him. So big. It's going to hurt when I do fuck him. I'm not used to something that big am I my dear?" She scooped up the last of his sperm and I cleaned it off her. Stephanie suddenly grabbed my hair in her fist and pulled me up to stand before her. She kissed me hard then, driving her tongue into my mouth. I tasted his cock on her, smelt him on her breath. She licked my face, into my eye sockets, bit my neck and ears. I clung to her, pulling her against my hard penis, accepting her forceful, hungry, animal kisses. She broke off to order me to my knees; "Down. I want and orgasm. With your mouth." Of course I went to my knees, pulling her panties down her legs as I went. She stepped out of them and immediately wrapped a leg around my shoulder and drew my face against her cunt. I steadied her by cupping her arse cheeks in my hands and pressed my face, my nose and mouth, against her. She was hot and wet and close to orgasm. Without finesse I drove my tongue into her as she heaved and ground hard against me. In less than a minute, she came shuddering, making several short and sharp screams. She held me against her and I softly lapped at her, pressing nose against her clitoris. Finally, she stepped back away from me. I sat back on my heels , looking up at her, my face soaked in her rich wetness. "Lie down. On your back. Spread you legs." Stephanie stood between my legs, raised one foot and placed it on my erect penis. "Hold my foot against you, Geoffrey." I knew what was coming, but did as I was told. Stephanie stood with all her weight on my penis. She reached for the book shelf to keep her balance and ground and twisted her foot down as if she were stubbing out a cigarette. I groaned and held her foot in place, taking her weight, as my penis flared with intense pain and withered. She stepped off me and before I could draw in breath, she kicked my viciously in the balls. I writhed on the floor in pain, doubled up, holding my crushed manhood. The shooting pain eased in a few minutes to be replaced immediately with nausea and a deep ache. I fought back the tears as I gradually brought my breathing under control. "Thomas told me not to make love you and not to allow you any pleasure. He doesn't want us fucking when I see him. Get up. Let's go to bed, love. We both need some sleep." The Good Wife Ch. 02 [Part of a series of stories about a wife who owns her husband.] * On holiday, my wife always comes alive sexually. Stephanie opens up, seems to find everything and anything sexual, and she becomes very demanding. She rarely puts on underwear on holiday, dresses much more provocatively than normal and expects me to be ready and available for her at all times. But her period came on the day we travelled, resulting in this scene on out first night in Spain. 'Round about midnight, we were reading in our room on the first floor at the back of the villa. It was a hot and humid in the room, so we left the door on to the balcony wide open. Stephanie sleeps in a nightdress while I am always naked; the duvet was discarded at the end of the bed. I was curled up half way down the bed, holding my hand to Stephanie's lower back and pressing gently to ease the ache. We read like this for some time. Stephanie got off the bed, dug into her bag for her cigarettes and went out onto the balcony. She smokes a little, mainly on holiday. I find her smoking a deeply sexy; her handling of cigarette and lighter, the sharp inhale and the slowly released plume, the hooded eyes and face obscured behind the smoke, the smell in her hair and the taste on her lips or fingers. She called me out onto the balcony. Stephanie stood against the balcony rail taking in the view. Our room looks out over a garden, onto scrub land and then onto mountains that run from the south coast, West of Marbella, into the Cadiz nature reserve. Even after midnight there was a gray half light in the sky heavy with rain clouds. In the distance, a few cars wound along on the narrow roads, their lights bright against the black of the mountains. They were so far away that no engine noise reached us. A sprinkler in the dark garden hissed. Otherwise there was silence. A chill breeze blew making my nipples hardened and my penis shrivelled. "Hold me. I'm cold," Stephanie said. I pressed myself against her, wrapping her in my arms; one angling downwards across her belly onto her hip, the other rising between her breasts to her shoulder. I nestled my penis against her arse and immediately started to harden. We talked about plans for later in the week as Stephanie smoked. I pressed my face into her long neck, breathing her in with the smoke and opening my mouth to kiss and suck gently on the skin. She lightly pushed back at me, swaying her arse. After a while, Stephanie half turned out of my arms, passing me the still smoking cigarette end to dispose of. "And get the jelly." When I came back out onto the balcony, she said: "Bend over the rail and stick your arse out." I got in position. The click of the bottle top; the slurp of jelly squeezed out; cold wet fingers against my arsehole; a finger forced inside me roughly, pressing deep and then another, and a third. The first intrusion always hurts a little. "Stand up." Stephanie's hand came round me and pinched hard on a brittle nipple. "Stoke yourself slowly." She pressed me forward against the railing, grazing my erection against the rough metal. I reached over the rail. I tried to take it slowly, but too, too soon I was close. "Hands on the rail! Don't come!" I stopped wanking. My little penis twitched in the cool air as I struggled to hold back. Stephanie pushed her fingers in and out of me, fucking me hard. I arched my back to her, giving myself to the slap, slap, slap, slap of her wet fingers driving in and out of me. I shut my eyes and my head dropped. I grunted and sighed and panted. Suddenly Stephanie's hand stopped, she changed the angle of her fingers inside me and pressed down on my prostate. My cock jumped three, four times as a strangled orgasm clenched at my insides. I wailed softly and panted as streams of ejaculate poured slowly from the tip of my cock onto the bougainvillea bush bellow. "Good boy," she said. "That should help you sleep soundly." The Good Wife Ch. 03 [Part three of a series of stories about a wife who owns her husband. I get a lot of abuse from some readers who seem to think I am committing an unforgivable crime and personally insulting them by putting these stories in what they think is the wrong category. (I like a bit of abuse, but mostly from my lovely wife.) These stories have elements of fetish and domination and kink and homosexuality. They are not straight "loving wives" stories. But, surely, we can agree that wives and husbands come in many varieties and have many different interests. If this is it is not to your taste, there is a lot else to read out there. Though of course you're very welcome to leave any comment you want. Thank you.] * Last night Stephanie and I went to bed early. We were reading and talking. As usual, my wife wore one of her nightdresses; knee length slip in blue-grey in cotton, with embroidery at the chest and string straps. It was low cut, giving her heavy beasts a wonderful cleavage. Stephanie had her hair bunched up at the back, showing her long neck off. Glimpsing her tall and strong neck and the soft abundance of the top of her breasts left me excited and needy. I am always naked in bed; Stephanie likes me absolutely exposed all times in the bedroom. I often undress the second I enter the room, leaving my clothes on the chair at the door. I cuddled up to Stephanie. "Are you horny, Geoffrey?" "Yes. Sorry." "You're such a little boy, ever-ready," she laughed. "You can wank, if you want." "Are you sure? Do you mind? I'd like to, but can I do something for you too." "No! You wank. I want to read. What I don't want is you rubbing up against me like that and wetting me with the dripping end of your hard little penis." Stephanie's voice was cross, but her eyes were bright and she could not keep a slight smile from her lips. She knew the effect this was having on me - the humiliation, the dismissiveness, the tone you would use with a child. I was desperate to wank, I wanted so much to touch myself there in bed, with her beside me. "I'm sorry. I won't do that again." I was uncertain. She had told me I could masturbate; she had told me to masturbate. Was it a trap? Was she going to stop me? She was perfectly capable of letting me wank for a while then stopping me, leaving me unsatisfied, unable to sleep with an iron hard erection? It was going to be humiliating whatever she had in mind. "Are you sure? I mean I can go to the bathroom to... to masturbate, if you prefer." "No. Do it here. Don't be ashamed. I really don't mind. I know you're an inveterate wanker, that you can't help yourself, so let's not pretend. Enjoy it. I want you to relieve yourself and stop bothering me like a horny puppy." I lay back, sliding down the bed a little and reached for my cock under the duvet. I was already hard. I stroked myself slowly with my right hand; with my left I cupped my balls and, squeezed and pulled. Stephanie went back to her reading. She picked up her mug of tea and drank. The duvet tented over my groin, moving up and down slowly. Stephanie reached over and pulled the duvet away from me. The cold air rushed over me. My wanking stopped. She glanced at me and went back to her reading. "Carry on wanker." I resumed masturbating, drawing my feet up, bending my knees and letting them fall wide open. There I was spread before her, naked, masturbating. I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, embarrassed, childish, and very excited. My left leg fell against Stephanie's thigh and jerked away from her as if from an electric shock. "Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to touch you." My fist stopped stroking, frozen in fear. She laughed. "It's OK sweetie. Slow down. There's no rush. Enjoy it. I like watching you touching yourself. It's so pathetic." Stephanie's finger tips ran across my thigh, a feather light touch that seemed to give me further electric shocks. I let go of my cock, it twitched violently in the air as I bore down, tensed and tried desperately not to ejaculate. "My God Geoffrey! You are so keyed up. I said slowdown." I was panting hard. I'd been so close. I was so relieved to have held off. I know she would have been furious if I had gone off so soon. "Touch your nipples. You like that. Pinch them. Pull hard. Make it hurt." Stephanie wasn't reading now. She turned on her side, propping her head up on an elbow. "You'd better not touch your penis for a bit. You are not to come yet; not until I say." My fingers clamped on my nipples, pulling hard. I was deeply immersed now in the sensations and Stephanie's directions. I was descending into a trance of need and shame. Stephanie watched me, amused, appraising. I held her eyes briefly and whispered that I loved her. "I know you do," she said. She took my left hand away from my chest and manipulated my fingers until my middle finger pointed out. She put it into her mouth and wet it. "Put that in your arse." I tuned on my side, away from her and pressed my finger against and straight into my arsehole. The intrusion hurt, but immediately my finger was jammed into me as far as possible. I tuned back onto my back. My cock switched and jerked. "GEOFFREY! DO NOT EJACULATE!" I squirmed and tried desperately to hold tight. I was a desperate panting mess. Stephanie got out of the bed. She pulled the duvet onto the floor and tilted the bedside lamp so that I was in a spotlight. She reached for her mobile phone and stood at the end of the bed. "I'm going to film you, wanking, fingering yourself, coming. I am going to send this to Kate. I saw you flirting with her at dinner the other night. I think she's fond of you. Probably thinks you are an intelligent, kind and manly husband. All my girlfriends think I'm lucky -- so hansom and thoughtful and good with the kids. What they don't know is that you're a little-dicked wanker, a sissy who likes to wear my panties and dresses and likes nothing better that to be fucked in the bottom. Do you think she will be impressed with my queer wanker husband?" My hand went to my cock. I stroked it very slowly as I pressed my finger in and out of my arse. I looked at Stephanie, I looked at the phone. What I was doing, what she was saying, was being recorded. "If you want to get off, please do, wank away, fuck yourself silly. But I'm going to film you and Kate is going to see it. If you stop now, no-one will be any the wiser about my little pervert of a husband." My hand moved up and down slowly. I wanted to stop, I tried to stop, but I couldn't. I told myself it was right that Kate, all my wife's friends, see this, it was best that they knew what I was like, how Stephanie owned me. She moved around the bed filming me from head to toe. I looked again into the phone's lens. A red light blinked back at me, capturing my shame. She stood on the bed, right between my legs. "You can come now. When you're ready. Come on, get it over with." She pressed the toes of her right foot into my balls firmly, leaning her weight on me. I grunted in pain, my finger moved in me fast and I came hard, explosively, my arsehole clamping tight. As I let go of my spent cock, her foot pressed down on it, up and down, massaging the last of my sperm onto my stomach. Stephanie was still filming as I she came to sit beside me . "Was that nice?" I nodded. The camera was pointed at my face now. "Here eat this." She fed me my sperm, every last bit, filming all the while.