1 comments/ 22899 views/ 1 favorites Reallove? By: Croctden “Oh Amy, my love!! The show is begun!” I hurried to run a brush thru my hair; I hit a snag and cursed. I, like many others, love my long wavy hair, but maintenance is not its main asset. “You are going to miss out on all the fun!!” I picked up my favorite lipstick, but pictured having to go to a restaurant with a horrible red rush job and said screw it, leaving it on the counter. “Hurry, hurry, hurry, mascara on one eye, no rouge, hurry, hurry, hurry,” my satanic boyfriend, Dan, chanted. I scurried through my apartment, dodging the chair. It was foolish how easily I let TV get me so flustered. I flopped on the couch next to him, my momentum slamming me into him. I’m not a big girl, so the force of impact shook me. He naturally took advantage kissing me, his tongue forcefully sampling mine as a hand slid up to cup one of my tits. He gave a sharp tug on a nipple to make me gasp before letting me go to catch my breath. He tugged on the other one so they would protrude evenly. They were just introducing the couples. There were two white couples (one blonde, one brunette), a black couple, and an Asian woman with a white man. Mixed couples only happen on the more recent versions. I had missed that, but Dan always picks up on subtle alterations such as that. He says he masters “the unspoken undercurrents.” I studied each woman carefully; I always try to pick out the one he likes the best. I’ve slowly gotten better at it. After all a girl should know what her man likes. I mean any girl knows guys like to fuck, but if you never learn more a breakup shortly follows. “New look?” “Stuff it.” He was ribbing me yet again, and he knew how serious I took this. He jokes he could never trust me enough to take me on the real show. Bob Eubanks came out. When Dan first suggested we watch “The Newlywed Game” together early in our relationship I thought we would be over quick. I mean come on, “The Newlywed Game!?” I’m a modern girl. Yet now it is a pre-date tradition I insist upon. It is fun and I learn more in one half hour than I would in a year otherwise. Occasionally I get the sense he is getting tired of it, but humors me. Once, when there was a time conflict he suggested we could tape it and watch it later. I’m not proud of how I reacted, but he never suggested it again. Bob read the rules and the wives went off stage. I handed Dan the pad. I glanced at him. He looked good in a black jacket and three tone blue shirt. “Is that the shirt we bought Tuesday?” He looked down distracted. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t really know; that’s your department.” That was one of the things I love about him. When I first met him, he wore basic block colors on the grounds that clothes should fade into the background of his personality. But he let me dress him because he did not care. He is willing to shop with me, although only for short trips. He even comments on trips for me, not sane comments, but it’s a start. In the two years we have been together he has only shopped for himself once, and that was only for some boxers when we first met. He always buys new underwear when he starts a relationship, some sort of odd personal tradition. Hell, I even pick his haircut. All my girlfriends are very jealous. In truth it is not a perfect fantasy, he does not really care about style so everything has to be low maintenance. “What is the one thing, besides the bathroom, she wishes you did not share?” Bob asked the assorted husbands. Dan chewed on the end of his pen a bit before scribbling something on his pad. I listened to the answers the TV husbands gave. This was a problem we ran into sometimes. We obviously were not married, we don’t even live together. None of their answers made any sense for us. I could not come up with an answer. I could tell Dan struggled too even though he had four times the time the other did. We almost never won because of these problems. We had talked about moving in together, but neither of us was willing to leave our neighborhood. Which is just stupid. One of us ends up staying over at the other’s five or six nights a week. Bob was going on to the next question; I would have to come up with something on the spot. “What is your wife’s number one turn on and turn off.” Well turn on was easy, but turn off was substantially harder. Dan has my number down cold, all he has to do is talk or look at me in a certain way and I melt and do whatever he wants. The end result of course is that we, to put it bluntly, fuck all the time. He also commented that there did not seem to be anything I did not like. He finished quickly and gave me his “I know something you don’t know” smile and a quick eyebrow jerk when he saw I was surprised. Arrogant shit. I should not really complain; he is strong earner as a stock broker. I have my own money, but a woman can be proud of reeling in a man who makes some green. Hey, I’m not immune to the society I was raised in. “Are you paying attention?” “Huh?” “You’re missing the question.” I turned my attention back to the TV, but Bob had finished. I tried to piece together that the question was while Dan wrote. I could not get anywhere, they were talking about Henry VIII, but then one said something about Henry XVI. Were there that many Henry’s? Dan would know, he was good at trivia, but I was stuck. Fortunately husband number four did not understand. “This is an intelligence test. If your wife saw Henry VIII twice would she come home and tell you she saw Henry VIII twice or Henry XVI?” That made no sense. The show went to commercial. “I think we’re boned.” “Have faith, they are only five points.” “Thanks Bob.” I stuck my tongue out at him. He lunged, I pulled back, but he got me. He stuck his face into mine. “At least I pay attention.” He kissed me and I felt a telltale lump of potential pleasure on my tummy. I struck out with my legs to rock my whole body under him. The asshole pulled back, he was just toying with me just as a cat does with a mouse. He made a face and cocked his head. “You look interesting. Are you going out that way?” “Ha ha, give me ten minutes and I’ll be fine. Where are we going anyway?” “I thought this is the night we were meeting Bert and Jeanie.” “It is, but we aren’t spending all night with them are we?” “No, but who knows when we will get out. I thought we could just wander around the pier, maybe take in a band.” “That sounds nice. We could invite them along.” “If you want.” The show came back. He did not get off me, knocking the pad onto the floor where I could not see it. I twisted underneath him to get a look at the women as they answered. “What is the one thing, besides the bathroom, she wishes you did not share?” Bob intoned. Oh crap, this was one I did not have an answer for. I racked my brain to think of anything while Dan studied me. I choked and finally said. “A car.” Dan thinks I’m a bad driver; he never lets me drive him anywhere. It might be related to the fact he has a BMW and enjoys zipping himself around. “That’s a good guess, but it is something you wish we did not share.” He showed his first answer. Refrigerator. “Remember when I left that cheese here and forgot about it.” “That’s right, the whole kitchen stunk. That’s not bad. There really wasn’t a good answer.” I saw him move, but did not react fast enough to avoid being bopped on the head with a cushion. I had copied the habit from the contestants and he occasionally did too. He never pounds me the way I do him. I use my fists a lot too. I shoved him and he sat back up (letting me up too). Only one of the white couples on TV did not get five. Even though we play all the time we rarely win, and have never gotten a perfect score either. It bothered me we did not win more, but again we live separately. Plus, as Dan had pointed out, it was a nice perk to start the night with a win, which it would not be if we won all the time. Bob ignored my reflections moved onto the next question, the one asking about my biggest turn on and off are. I listened to the wives answers, but none of their turn offs worked for me. I felt a little slutty, which I guess I am. I blame Dan, I wasn’t always this way. Of course he loves it. “Well?” “Well the turn on is obviously stripping,” I noticed with some surprise that he did not reflexively nod, “but I can’t think of anything that turns me off, so I will say nothing.” “The judge will accept that, but it will do no good.” He showed me his answers: My bedroom voice and being sick. “No! Stripping is my biggest turn on.” How did he not know that? “Then why don’t you do it more often?” “I don’t know,” I giggled. “Well you are going to start.” I gave him a half shimmy. He poked me, “pay attention, we are at the next question.” “...or Henry XVI?” I remembered this one. “The only answer that makes sense to me is Henry VIII twice.” “Very good Sprinkles.” He showed me the pad. “We have five points.” “Don’t start with me.” “Me, don’t start!? Who was…” “Okay.” “No, who was it-” “Okay, okay, okay.” He slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close the way he knows I like. “Were you serious about that? I always thought you liked my voice.” He switched into it. I have to admit it does turn me on when he talks that way, but I elbowed him in the stomach. “I do like that, but I really like stripping.” “I never knew that.” “Well I’ve kept that a secret.” I was blushing. Oh my god, I could not believe I was blushing. After all the things I done for him, to him, or let him do to me, I’m blushing over admitting I like taking my clothes off. “Why?” “Because I’m worried you’ll tease me about it.” “Smart thinking Sprinkles, but I meant why do you like stripping.” “I always liked it. It made me feel worth something to see all these men get excited and line up to give me money just because I’m naked and wiggling. It just always made me feel special, like a beautiful princess. I mean I know they were just horny dogs who wanted to fuck me because their wives were getting old, but it still felt good. I got into their fantasies too. And if you call me Sprinkles again I will pound you.” I threatened him with my fist. That was my old stage name. Now it sounds so stupid, but I was a very popular girl. He smacked away my fist. “Really. I never knew that. Why did you give it up?” “Come on.” He gestured he did not follow. “You must know this.” Still a blank stare. “That first night when your buddies brought you in and Frank bought you a lap dance I thought no big deal, I have done this a thousand times. But when you talked to me, I just felt...well, more naked. I hadn’t been uncomfortable dancing since I first started, but you made me feel embarrassed. I liked it though, or at least I liked you. I never gave my number out, before either. I had to quit that week. Do you have any idea how much money that cost me? And you know I hate my job now.” I had met him while working. He had come in with a group of guys, your standard fair, all hooting and hollering. He was the quiet one, but what I noticed was how sleekly he moved. Every step, head turn, reach, was smooth, no wasted motion. I had joined a few other girls seeing what kind of money they were willing to outlay. They had all whipped out bankrolls before we even got there, save for Dan. I was naked and grinding myself into a lap immediately. They passed us around for a while, making sure they all got hardons, again except for Dan. “See anything you like this time?” one of them shouted over the music as I dragged my ass up and down his lap, letting his jean clad cock slipping between my cheeks. Expressionlessly he nodded, and looked in my direction. “All-righty then.” He turned to talk to me for the first time. “Hey babe, give Dan here a dance,” he shoved some cash into my hand. “Make it good and there’ll be a little extra in it for you,” he whispered to me. I sized my quarry up. I had seen this type before, too proud to admit a stripper could have any power over them. I sat down on his lap, putting an arm around him and snuggling up against his neck. “Hey there, I’m Sprinkles, what’s your name?” I ran a hand over his chest, it was strong, but not nearly the hardest I’d ever felt. “I go by Dan.” “Well Dan, would you like a lap dance?” “Indeed.” I stood to dance, but he put a hand on my forearm, the soft hand surprised me. Having successfully arrested my movements, she spoke. “Might I make a request?” Confused I nodded. “Could you redress for the start?” I nodded, I’d heard of guys who like that, but never encountered one myself. All us girls regarded it as an urban legend. I bent down to get my clothes off the floor. I snapped on my thong, zipped up my super short plaid school girl skirt, and put on my white tank top. “Could I entice you to take off your shoes?” “Sure. You like feet?” “No, I’ve never gotten that, but want a certain look for you.” “Okay bigboy, the stockings too?” I had some fishnets held up by elastics. “Take them off as you dance.” “Can do? Anything else?” He was very specific. I liked it, I felt like an artist, plus there was that promised bonus. “You seem remarkably pliable.” “Hey, I want you to enjoy yourself.” “You don’t regard it as a simply transaction?” Now I did, but I didn’t like him just pulling away the veil of fantasy away. It made me feel cheap. “I’m here for the cash, yeah, but I want you have a fun time too.” “Well then Sprinkles,” he slowly stressed my name to point out the obvious fakeness of it, “why don’t we start and if I think of anything you can do to increase my pleasure in the moment I’ll let you know.” “Okay.” He was really being an asshole. I got up, but he grabbed my hand again. “Wait until the next song starts.” He did not let go of my hand, holding it as the last song ended. I’d let rich, respectful, clients finger me on occasion, but I had never just held hands the old-fashioned way in a club before. It was unexpectedly uncomfortable. When the sounds faded away, Jimmy the asshole DJ came over the load speakers. Dan kissed my hand once. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, sure, I’m fine.” “Then whenever you’re ready.” The first faint notes of music sounded over the buzz of strippers making money. I felt as though he had challenged me, I was going to show him. I sunk to my knees at his feet and used my head to nudge his legs apart. Looking up at him I dragged my face over his crotch. I felt him there, but he was not hard. I flicked him with my nose, and he twitched. I dragged myself over him more and rested my chest on his cock. He looked down at me impassively as I gave him and innocent look. Why do guys play hard to get with a stripper? I pulled myself up further until I could nuzzle his chest; his snake began to uncoil on my stomach. That was relieving, I had worried he won’t be able to get it up. It never took a guy so long, hell most men are rock hard before you even touch them. I take pride in being able to get to men so easily, I had been feeling a little threatened that he stayed soft. To celebrate I pulled my top over my head, and rubbed his neck with it. His challenge was making me get inventive. I stood and rubbed his face with my chest, and he blew on me. Not on my nipples the way you’d expect, but between my tits. A long continuous breath that tickled the undersides of my tits. I pulled my skirt up and rubbed my crotch against his, wanting get control of the situation. He was not fully erect yet. Going for broke I worked my thigh against him, he filled out, but was not raging yet. Boy was I getting frustrated. Then he did an odd thing, he very gently just tapped a few beats into my thigh, as though it was Morse code. Weird. I stepped away for a moment, and bent all the way over to take off my skirt. When I looked back he was looking at me, that is my face, not the ass right in front of him. I decided to go for another tactic. Straddling him I kissed my way up his neck, around his chin, and on his cheek. I jumped with I felt his tongue press my lips, he had pressed it into his cheek. Clever clever. I held myself against him, “would you like to take my stockings off?” I whispered. Normally guys say something or nod; he just repositioned me on his lap. The first contact came behind my knee, then up the back of my thigh. I had been expecting him to do what all guys do, get as close to my pussy as they dared and then drag their fingers down. I fidgeted, it was oddly erotic. I, a jaundiced stripper, with plenty of men in my past, a girl who’d got very physical with the others girls for a bonus, was getting a little uncomfortable. This was much more along the lines of foreplay than a lap dance. He cupped my leg as he rolled down the stockings, touching ever inch of my gams. By the time the second one was off the song was over. I’d been naked in literally hundreds of laps before, but this time I was embarrassed. “You were definitely a wise pick.” “Thank you.” “You adapted very well. It’s very rare I find a girl I like.” “Why is that?” He paused to form the right words. “Too much of life is rush rush rush, and strippers reflect that. You’re gorgeous, flexible, and willing to take hints, the perfect combination for my tastes.” “I am here to please.” The music of the next song started to filter over the airwaves. “Why don’t you lose the thong?” Wow, did that suddenly sound scary. I looked down at the thin wisp of white material. I’d been naked in front of him before, but now… I chided myself, I’m a stripper, that why he was here. I yanked it off, and felt better, but not fully at ease. I tried to get into the song, grinding my naked body against his. I started to forget, but then he stopped me. “Are you okay?” Oh my god. “Yeah. Why?” “You seem tense.” He took my hand again, that was getting to me, and kissed it. Then he sucked on one of the fingers. I knew what he would do next, and watched as he directed my own hand to my pussy. I was about to press in, but he grabbed my wrist, and started slow circles over my quim. “We are trying to relax, not get you off.” Flustered I did as directed. “Keep dancing.” Lightly touching myself, I got to my feet and again began to bump and grind. I was able to get into much more then I did normally, sitting on his lap and taking his cock in my other hand and stroking my ass with it. The music faded to a stop and he yanked my hands away from my body, startling me. I saw Louie the bouncer coming, but I waived him off. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” “It’s alright.” I struggled to regain my composure. “Why don’t we slink off to a corner?” I could not believe I nodded, but I did. I stooped to pick up my clothes. “Just the top.” I slipped it on, but felt even more exposed than before. Sure my boobs were covered, but my pussy was hanging out for all to see. We sat back in a corner, me on his lap. The next song started and he nudged me so my gaze was on stage. Then, oh lordy, he sucked two of my fingers into his mouth, and firmly pressed them into my pussy. The message was clear, and I started to diddle myself. I glanced over at him and saw he was staring into my eyes. I could not take it and buried my face in his shoulder. He hugged me as I finger fucked myself on a strangers lap. I let out a tiny squeak as I came for the first time in a club. He kissed me on the forehead, and for some reason that really helped. “What is your name?” I broke rule I swore I never would. “Amy.” “Pleased to meet you, Amy.” “Thanks.” I was coming down, I felt much better. “Will I see you again?” “I’m not really into clubs.” I frowned. “Perhaps if I could call.” There were some girls who give their number out, but they were universally sluts. I had never considered it before. This was a serious issue, how would he treat me knowing what he did? On the other hand… “You have to take risks in life.” He spoke, almost reading my mind. Reallove? “Okay,” I hopped up and stuck my hand out. He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, I forgot my little black book. Let me get a card from one of my guys.” “It’s okay; I can get some paper from Louie.” I hurried to the bar, scribbled down my number, and came back. He looked serene seated in the dark. “Here.” I pressed it into his hand, quickly before I reconsidered, crumpling it slightly. “Thank you Amy.” He was very gentlemanly, I later learned, and did call. This was after I had quit. I had continued to dance for a couple of nights, but I felt awkward and ashamed, the way I did when I started. I had been a very popular girl, but now I could not get into it and the dollars I used to pick up now went to the other girls. I think I knew I was going to have to give up dancing, but I resisted because I loved it so much. Then one of my regulars came in. I gave him a lap dance, and as he always did – pressed a finger into my body. But I suddenly felt such a sense of wrongness I burst into tears and ran into the back room. I quit right then and there. The next day was the worst, I was totally lost and without a job. I finally went out and bought a paper to see what type of jobs there were out there. Nothing I read appealed to me. It was at that moment, at my lowest, the phone rang and I found Dan asking me out. “I never asked you to quit.” Dan countered, unaware of my musings. “I know, but I just couldn’t be naked in front of strangers anymore. And I was so happy when you called too; I was on egg shells waiting. So anyway now I can dance only for you. But the way you look at me and touch me when I do gets me so hot I want to die.” It’s true. When I turn down the lights, put on some of my old dancing music to put on a show for him, and watch his eyes invade every crevice of my form, I get so horny I’m literally shaking. “Why was I so different?” “I don’t know; it’s just the way you are. You weren’t the first guy who tried to see me, not just the body rubbing against you. Or at least not the first guy to pretend, but you were the first to do it.” “So it was the way I talked to you. In short: my voice.” He was being silly, but he could tell I was uncomfortable and was letting me off the hook. “No,” I shoved him, “stop being silly.” Thankfully the show was back, sparing me any more humiliation. Out of the blue he gave me a deep hard kiss, one of the ones he does when he is trying to tell me something. This is nice, but the message is never clear so I just feel lost. “Now pay attention Sprinkles,” he said in his special voice, “I want to win and if we do maybe I’ll let you strip for me later.” I socked him one. “My name is Amy.” Thankfully Bob was talking, or I am sure I would have heard it. “What part of your husband’s body is shaped wrong for the rest of his body?” Wee, that was easy. The first time I put on his hat it fell over my eyes. His head is huge. I am unable to really see it, even though I know, but when I had it measured in a hat store they told me it was the biggest they had ever seen. He has to wear an eight. I used to tease him that that is why he is so smart, but that’s not the type of issue that really bothers someone. I looked over at him. He smiled so I knew we would be okay. I started studying the wives again. I always try to pick the one he likes best. Dan refuses to award points for this. We used to have me pick from the men, but he never put the effort into it that I do, so we gave that up. Dan has always been a take me as is guy. The black woman was a little heavy and very dark; he generally prefers cream to dark brown, so she was out. He does not care for blondes much, and she has a small chest, so I ruled her out. Bob came back. “Ladies, what is your husband’s favorite painting?” Fuck! I wish I paid more attention to his cultural pursuits. I’m not really interested in his artsy habits. I could picture the painting; it was some people from the thirties in a city dinner. He had shown it to me in a book. What was it? It had some short snappy title. I blanked and the TV was moving to the next question so I just wrote “Romeo and Juliet.” Bob, ignoring my troubles went on. “Ladies, this is you talking: ‘I’ll never forget the time during our most inventive whoopee session my husband pretended he was who of what?” Thankfully this was easy. We are pretty wild and have done a lot of things, but this spring he unexpectedly showed up in a vampire costume claiming he was “Count Sexula.” I had been relaxing at home on a hot summer day, when the doorbell rang. There on my step in the middle of a July afternoon was my boyfriend dressed as vampire. We had played games before, but never to this extent. “Can I help you?” “I’m hoping so my dear, might I step in to explain?” I was not going to let him get in that easily, “why can’t you explain right here?” “Well, it is very involved to explain, and it is rather hot out. I thought perhaps you might prefer to be inside where it is cool.” “I’m fine here, go on.” “I am a traveler in these parts, and as of late I’ve started to wear down. I am in need of an energy boost if you will.” “I’m sure you can find a hotel, or restaurant, or whatever it is you need in town.” “I’m afraid those amenities, while pleasant, will not suffice. You see my body needs art and beauty to replenish itself. I need to vibe of a human soul as it is at its happiest moment.” “I’m not sure I follow.” “When a human being is happy they give off a radiance, which is the energy I need.” “Well fine, but why me. Anyone could do that for you.” I moved to close the door, but his arm whipped out to stop me. “Alas no. You see only certain people give out enough energy. My senses tell me you are tuned to give off that power.” “I don’t see why you can’t find someone else. I don’t want to” “My dear you’re not grasping the situation, for me to feed you must be made to feel wonderful.” “How?” “If I could come in, perhaps we could discuss?” Now I knew this was just a game, and he was my boyfriend, who’d fucked me more times than I could keep track of, but I was getting seriously curious about what he would do. “Oh, alright.” “Wonderful.” He slid, that’s how it seemed, right over the threshold. Lost I led him into the living room. I sat down on the couch, without touching me yet still intimidating in his presence he sat down next to me. “So what do we do?” “Why don’t you tell me about some of your favorite memories?” “Why?” “Just trust me.” “Uh, what type?” “It does not matter.” I thought I would toy with him. “I remember on my sixth birthday my dad came home and gave me my very first bike. It was bright red with white trim.” “Mmmm.” He moaned with closed eyes, forever perverting that memory for me. “What else?” He put a hand on my knee. “What else?” “Hey what are you doing?” “I need to be in physical contact with you to harvest your energy. Go on.” “Well,” I was struggling. All the memories that popped up involved Dan, and I did not want to give in that easily, “my high school graduation was pretty amazing. I remember riding there with my parents on a beautiful day. I felt a little melancholy because I knew it would be the last time I would ever go there.” “Tell me more, how was the ceremony?” “Oh it was alright.” “Did you have a party after?” “Well some of us went to this house party. I go so drunk! I made out my best friend!” I chuckled before I realized my mistake. I had never told Dan about my lesbian experiments, if you tell a man they want a threesome the next night. I looked over at him; there was a gleam in his eye. The hunter’s gleam, he knew he had me trapped. “You kissed your best friend?” He lightly began stroke the top of my thigh. “Did you like it?” “Yeah, it was okay.” God it was embarrassing. “Tell me the story.” “There’s not much to tell. We were drunk sitting next to each other joking about loser boys from our high school we would never see again, we started comparing stories about the guys and we wanted to see what it would be like to kiss a girl.” “How was it?” He was leaning into me. “Nice, she was soft and sweet. When we stopped and realized what we had done we just looked at each other and giggled.” “Did you kiss her again?” “A little.” “Tongue?” “Yeah, of course.” “And after that?” “I had to throw up; I told you I was drunk.” “Did you ever kiss her again?” “No.” “Did you want to?” Oh jeez. “Yeah,” I admitted, “It was fun.” “Did you fantasize about it?” “A little.” “Tell me what you imagined.” “Oh I don’t know. Maybe us going out for a fun night, a movie, a late night restaurant stop, coming back to my place while my parents were out for town. I pictured kissing her once lightly on the mouth and asking her if she wanted to come in. We’d make out on the couch in the middle of the living room. I’d pull off her shirt. You know I always wanted to see her chest? They were small, but bounced soo much! I thought she’d be shy and cover herself, so I nuzzle her with my head. She’d resist so I say I would take my top off too. We hug, tit to tit, and give a really passionate kiss.” Dan was had an arm around me and was stroking my breast bone, exposed by my stretched tee. “I’d take her hand and put it down my pants so she could touch me. I would also stick a hand into her panties and would get each other off while we kissed. Afterwards she’d stay in my arms and ask to spend the night.” Dan did something he had never done before; he picked up my hand and bit my palm. “And that’s the extent of your lesbian history?” Oh why’d he have to ask that?! “No…when I was stripper I worked with another girl. We put on lesbian show for guys in the private room. Backstage we kissed and felt each other up a little.” “Did you want more?” “I guess. I wanted a boyfriend mainly.” He licked the veins on my wrist. “What did the show you did consist of?” “You know; the usual stuff. We kissed, licked each other’s tits. One of us would put on strap on and fuck the other, or we’d use a double ended dildo.” “Who used the strap on?” “We’d switch.” I was getting uncomfortably turned on by this point. “Did you like doing these shows?” “Oh yeah, it was really kinky.” “Why didn’t you go farther?” “Oh she was a little wild; I didn’t need that in my life.” “Did she want to?” “Oh yeah, she was all over me.” “How did she tempt you?” “She was just always around me, tugging on my nipples, cupping my ass, running her tongue over my lips.” “But you never went all the way with another woman?” “No.” “Why?” “I was never in the right situation. I like men, so I never looked for women.” I realized his hands were under my skirt when I felt my panties tugging. “Hey!” I grabbed him. “Don’t worry.” He took my hands off his and firmly peeled them down. “Purple!?” Yes, I had worn my purple panties, which I almost never wear. I had no reason; I just spied them in my drawer this morning. “Very nice.” They slipped over my ankles and he held them up for us to look at. “They’re wet.” That struck me as hilariously funny. “Yes.” “Now why is that?” “You’re the expert.” “Are you imagining being with women?” “Maybe,” he leaned over to kiss my knee, “and other things.” He curled his hand into a point and traced his finger down my inner thigh. “What other things?” His finger pressed, but I grabbed his hand to stop him. With one knuckle worth inside me I tried to focus on speaking. Just that little bit of pressure was causing me to leak all over myself. “What you are going to do to me.” He chuckled and pressed in a little farther against my resistance. “You don’t have anything to worry about from me.” “I didn’t say I was worried.” “Then relax.” He tried to press in more. “But I don’t know you, or what you’re going to do. And I have a boyfriend.” “Tell me about him. How did you meet?” Shit, my pussy fired at that, he knew I loved that story. “Umm, I was a stripper and gave him a dance.” “Is he good?” “Oh yeah.” I was not saying that to stroke his ego either. He gave me an amused look. I did not understand: I can never focus when I’m turned on. I looked down and realized that some part of my subconscious had made me start fucking myself with his finger. I was going to say “now I want something big,” but he yanked my legs so I fell on my back. He bit my inner thigh to make me squeal like a stuck pig. Dan, when the mood strikes him, can eat a mean pussy. This time he was savage. He sucked one of my labs in, pinching it with his lips and rubbing his tongue over the sensitive edge. I was stretched as he pulled back without releasing. I grunted as he slammed his whole head into me, his tongue penetrating me. Small kisses moved in circles around my pussy and thighs as my breath returned. I was horny now, me pussy was soaking the cushion under my ass. I trembled as his tongue ran over my hole, but just traced me, denying me horribly. “Stop teasing me!” I got what I wanted, he covered me with his mouth, pushing his whole mouth inside me and raspberried. The vibrations sent me over the edge. It was powerful, a wall that crushed me. I flopped back down, but only for a moment as he sucked on my clit, forcing me to contract. “Shit!!” He fucked me hard with his fingers. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I chanted and my second orgasm hit me. I was too weak to resist as he rolled me and hung me over the back of the couch. I yelped as he pinched my engorged clit. I bucked as he rimmed me, licked down, and forced his tongue into me. He alternated between nibbling on me and fucking with his tongue. My pussy was so sore I came a third time in a hurry. “No more! Please!! I need a break!” I tried to crawl away, but he was not interested and pulled my legs over shoulders to continue the assault. Broken, I started crying. “Please! Oh god! It’s too much!” I writhed to try and get relief to no result. His tongue and fingers where everywhere and I shuttered as I exploded for a fourth time. Finally he let up, but only momentarily as he dragged me to my feet and bent me over my sideboard. Fear filled me as I watched him drop his pants over my shoulder in the mirror, I was so tender already. His strong fingers pressed down on my flesh as he grabbed my hips. He drove his cock into me; I was soaked so he slid right in. He pounded me, and I took it. My attention focused on the heat of his cock inside me. I wished I could wrap myself around it entirely to show him how much I loved him. I melted at the feel of his rod splitting me, I felt cherished. I won’t have thought it was possible but I felt another orgasm begin to form inside me. It came quickly and I tossed in fury, barely aware Dan was cumming too. The air rushed from my lungs and I blacked out. I came back to feel Dan sprinkling my face with water. I had fainted. I did not think that actually happened, and neither apparently did Dan, it was one of the few times I’ve seen him seriously upset. I’m not complaining, but we still laugh about it. The memory got me wet instantly. He had to know that. I was quickly drawn back to the show because Bob was heading onto the bonus question. It’s worth 25 points and we almost always need it to win. “Right now are there more than or less than three broken items in your house or apartment?” Another problem question. We had a system by now, we judged by the apartment we were watching in. I did not have three broken things. I do not fix anything, preferring just buy replacements. I was not sure if he knew that. He never threw things out, preferring to tear them apart, ostensibly to fix them (I think to see how they worked). I wrote less than three because it was true. We had a fifty-fifty chance. The show went to commercial. “I have one and half answers.” “What does that mean?” “I have one answer for sure, and another I feel good about.” “That does not sound so good.” “Well even if we lose I still think I won.” I rib shotted him. “Okay hotshot: what’s your biggest turn-on?” “That was not the question.” “I’m asking now.” “It’s not you stripping, so let’s leave it at that.” Dan’s body language is very subtle, it took me a long time to learn it, but after two years I could tell he was uncomfortable. That was very intriguing. I straddled him and kissed his face a few times. I felt his cock pressing solidly against me. He tried to keep a little space between our bodies, letting me know I could weasel it out of him. He was embarrassed (rare for him), but it was not a real secret. I nuzzled him. “Come on, you can tell me. I won’t laugh or tease you.” He rolled his eyes, “the hell you won’t.” “Come on, I thought we had an open relationship.” That’s a line he had used to pry information out of me countless times. “Not that open.” I knew he would give in if I pressed. “You know you will tell me in the end, why not just save us both some trouble?” “Upp, show’s back.” I frowned at the TV and turned back to kiss him deeply. “This isn’t over.” “Gentlemen, what part of your body did your wife say is shaped all wrong for the rest of your body?” Dan stroked his chin, which surprised me. “Let’s see the answer must be ‘my head,’ but which one?” “We get ten points.” I cut his teasing short. “I haven’t answered yet.” “Whatever.” He snatched my hand and drew it towards his groin, but I yanked it back before I made contact. I socked him again. “Hey.” “Just pay attention to the game Mr. Stud.” He took my hand and kissed it, then put it on his manly attacker. I relented, squeezing it a little and absentmindedly rolling it as I watched and worked to puzzle out which wife he would like. The Asian woman small and slim, which no man ever complains about. On the other hand the brunette has big breast and showed a lot of leg. But her face was a little angular. That did not necessarily rule her out, but made my guess harder. “Nighthawks.” “Huh?” “My favorite painting: Nighthawks.” “That’s right! I couldn’t remember.” “What did you say?” I tried to cover the pad. “It’s not important.” He pried my hands away. “Romeo and Juliet!?!” He screamed. He pinched me. “I can’t believe all my education produced this. I’m going to have to expose you to more culture.” I groaned. “I just blanked.” “So that is what you came up with?” “I knew I did not know.” He mumbled a little, but let it go. “Does it bother you I didn’t know that?” “You are the one who cares about the ten points.” “No, that I did not know what painting you liked.” “Some. Often it seems as though what I tell you goes in one ear and out the other. But it‘s one little thing. I don’t expect you to remember everything I say.” I thought about that and accepted it. “Gentlemen, complete this sentence. This is your wife talking: ‘I’ll never forget the time during our most inventive whoopee session my husband pretended he was who or what’?” We had to get this one I figured, but Dan did not answer quickly. “Well?” “There are a lot of possible answers. You are pretty kinky.” “Me?! As you like to say: ‘this relationship is a partnership’ you pervert.” “I am not the one who makes most of the wild suggestions. The craziest idea I ever had was that ‘Count Sexula’ session. I guess I can go with that.” “Yes!!” I showed him the pad. “If you had gotten that wrong I would have killed you. What else could it be?” “Well that was the first incident that came to mind, it was unusual.” “Of course, you’re insane. You just saw a costume shop and thought I’ll swing by Amy’s as a sex-crazed vampire? Who else do you think does that? What other fantasy did you think I might say?” “I was not sure, but it is not as thought we have a meat and potatoes sex life otherwise.” That was true I thought as the TV went to commercial. Which reminded me, “So what is your biggest turn on?” Reallove? He groaned. “I was hoping you would forget about that.” He twisted a little, looking for physical comfort for mental pain. “Okay I don’t want you to read too much into this.” “Oh just come out with it.” “Look,” he sighed, “you may not like this.” I waited. “I like to spank you.” He waited for my response. I blinked. I was not sure what thought. We had only done that a few times, more often at my suggestion than his. I had just been joking around the first time I mentioned it on a lazy Sunday. We were basking in the late morning sunlight after I had sucked him off to wake him. He stretched, twisting his neck. “Aw, poor baby I taunted…I know fucking me wears you out so much.” “Why are you giving me attitude?” “I’m not.” “Yes you are. You’re being a little brat.” “Ha! Maybe you should spank me then.” I joked. “You deserve one.” I turned away from him to wiggle my ass in his direction. “Ohh I’m so scared.” Then that point of realization crossed and thought maybe I’d like to try this. “Go ahead tough guy.” He pushed my butt away from him. I snaked back around and dragged myself of his lap. “What are you afraid?” His brow creased in puzzlement as he realized I was serious. “Go for it.” Dan, as he is used to doing in sexually tense situations, did not speak, making my sexual mood deepen. Rather he pinched my nose, as a thanks or gesture of love. I did not have much time to consider as he gave my ass a hard smack. “Ow!!” He hit hard, it hurt much more than I expected. I bucked, but he brushed my flailing limbs out of the way and pinned me. The second and third blows followed in rapid succession. I was stunned; by the time the fourth spank came my ass was already burning. He paused, “Well now Amy, my love. You are getting what you wanted,” he chuckled. He wailed on my poor ass a few more times. I struggled to get up, but he was not interested. “Oh no, you are going to get what you deserve.” He spanked me again. “Shit!! That hurts!” I howled. “Good.” He added a few more whacks for emphasis. My ass was getting seriously sore now, and I was horny. It was tough to tell what was worse, the pain in my ass, or not being able to get something in my pussy. More and more blows rained down. “That’s enough!!” I shouted. “Come on Baby!” I pleaded. “Say you’re sorry.” “I’m sorry!” He spanked me again. “Ow!!! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!!” The torture finally relented as he let me up, adding a pair of extra spanks as I scrambled away. I got up and shoved him. “Asshole!” I rubbed my ass, but I was not really angry. Especially once I saw his cock, full and hard again, standing before me. I literally jumped on him, grabbing my favorite toy and slipping it into me. I was so wet I sank right down on him. I ground my pussy down on him, never coming up. He took my hands in his and locked my arms behind me to attack my tits; it took one bite on my nipple before I exploded. Suddenly all the pain was worth it. I rolled my hips over his cock and Dan spurted shortly thereafter. Both spent, I cuddled up against his chest. I never mention it, but I find it embarrassing to be bent over his lap while he comments. Plus it stings, he is not always gentle; he likes to get my ass nice and pink. Suddenly knowing he like it made those memories warm me up a little too. And reflecting I recognized he clearly liked it. Always taunting me as he spanked, intermingling gentle finger tip traces over my burning bum, and probing fingers in my snatch until I begging to be let up. “Well pay attention to the show big boy and maybe I’ll let you spank me later.” I ran my hand over my ass. Dan has a great poker face, but I caught his eyes flicker in excitement. “Wow you really like spanking me don’t you?” “I just said it’s my biggest turn on.” I could accept that, besides the show was coming back. “Okay we have 25 points, let’s try to win this.” 50 points would most likely get us a win. It really bothers me that we don’t win more often. I know this is corny, but when we win it makes me feel a though we are better couple. Speaking of which I needed to pick a girl. I shrugged and went with the Asian, more exotic. “I think you life wife #2.” “Nope, four.” “Four! But she’s blonde!!” “Come on Amy, that’s not an international law. Good figure, clear face (he meant light makeup), good smile.” “You never cease to amaze me.” “Hence our continued relationship.” I was stunned it was the blonde, he never likes the blonde. “Oh well, at least it does not count for anything.” “That’s the right mind frame.” I stuck my tongue out at him, but the show was continuing. “Gentlemen, did your wife say there are more or less than three broken items in your house or apartment right now?” “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure less than three, you never ask me to fix anything.” My “Yes!!” drowned out his last point. I grabbed him and gave him a big hug. We watched the TV wives answer just to make sure we won, I was confident, 50 is a good score. The couple that won on the show only had forty. I realized after it was mathematically impossible for them to catch us once we hit the bonus. “Okay,” I hopped up, “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” I was feeling good, Dan had commented that I was usually in a better mood (which made for a better date) when we won. “K.” I grew suspicious, “what are you going to do?” “Just make a phone call or two.” I rolled my eyes. He meant he was going to call the “Physic Friends Network” and pretend to be on the verge of suicide, possibly murder too. Dan is very mature, but he has a streak of childish habits. “Doesn’t that ever get old for you?” “It’s a new challenge with a different partner every time.” “You could be a good actor if you put the time into it that you put into the calls.” “Let’s just say I’m young enough to remember that I’m not old. Now hurry up, the later you are the more spanks you are going to get.” I was momentarily taken aback. He had never been so brazen about the issue before. “We’ll see about that.” “Forget it. We won and you pulled it out of me, so your ass must face the consequences. I’ll tell you what; I’ll let you strip for me before I take you over my knee.” “Gee thanks.” But in reality I was interested to see how he would act when I stripped now, and maybe a little to study him when he spanked me. I didn’t let him know that, I just turned to finish readying. I could hear the sound of Dan talking a little as I stood in front of my mirror. He is such a bastard. He was done by the time I came back. “Do I want to know?” “A disaffected teenager panicked and told me to call the police. He hung up before I could respond.” “Good.” Dan swung he arm around my waist and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Come on, the sooner we are done with Bert and Jeanie the sooner we can be alone.”