****** Obliging Wives by Sally ******
===============================================================================

Obliging Wives


Author's Note: These stories are the property of the author and were written
exclusively for White Shadow's excellent story site. They can be downloaded for
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please contact the author at 'sally34@hotmail.com' for permission. This story
contains strong adult themes and you should read no further if you find sex
stories offensive.

Obliging Wives

Below are two stories about two sisters whose mother taught them: 'Keep your
man happy in bed and he'll stay with you forever'. Both women tried to follow
their mother's advice, but neither could have expected the outcomes...

Obliging Wife One: Lorraine

Lorraine got down to her task, which, in this case, was licking out the cunt of
her worst enemy, Emma Finch. Once again she thought through the bitter steps
that had brought her to this end. Emma shifted her legs slightly wider and
imperiously commanded Lorraine, now kneeling subserviently before her, to 'get
on with it.'

Lorraine looked at the glistening parted cunt lips before her and felt sick.
She had no lesbian feelings of any sort and neither, she suspected, did Emma,
yet she was being forced to service this hated woman like some sort of sex
slave.

It was her own fault she supposed - following her mother's dumb advice to 'keep
her man happy in bed and he won't stray'. Well, she had kept him happy when he
was in obvious danger of straying and now here she was between another woman's
parted thighs. She wondered what advice her mother would have to offer now.

Tentatively Lorraine licked at the pussy presented to her, trying to ignore the
unfamiliar smell. Emma moaned appreciatively. She thrust her hips forward,
wanting more....

Lorraine had presented herself to Emma about thirty minutes before, still
unsure, as she rang the doorbell, what the hell she was supposed to say. She
knew that Emma did not like her and the feeling was reciprocal. Basically Emma
was a snob and looked down on people like Lorraine.

When she answered the door Emma was surprised to see Lorraine standing there.
Probably as surprised as Lorraine felt at being there.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Emma had said, as if she thought Lorraine was lost.

Lorraine didn't want to talk on the doorstep.

"May I come in? This won't take a minute," Lorraine had managed to say.

Emma, confused but curious, had let Lorraine in.

"I was just going out..." Emma began, making it clear that Lorraine was not
welcome to stay for too long.

Emma had not invited her to sit so she was just going to have to do this
standing. Emma stood, arms folded, looking at Lorraine expectantly.

"It's just that I had to see you to tell you... well, that I've fallen deeply
and madly in love with you."

"WHAT?" roared Emma with a mixture of surprise and incredulity.

She stared at Lorraine quizzically to see if this was a joke of some kind.

Lorraine knew the line was lame but really didn't know what else to say.
Pathetically she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Emma asked.

"Oh no!" Lorraine said vehemently; she was at least convinced of that.

Emma was totally confused but impatient with the pathetic creature in front of
her.

"Well, what the hell do you expect me to do about it?" she asked.

"Oh, well, nothing I suppose. I don't expect you to return my love, uhm, just
allow me to serve you in anyway I can."

Emma's head was reeling. She barely knew Lorraine. She'd seen her at the school
gates collecting her daughter from school of course but had never spoken to
her. She could instinctively tell that Lorraine was a bit of a clinging vine
and had not wanted to get too close to her. Emma had her own set of friends
among the moms at the school gates - what she considered 'the smart set' -
mothers who had not given into the drudgery of motherhood (like Lorraine) but
looked after their hair and bodies. She had no idea what to do with the
pathetic woman standing before her, looking like a lost puppy.

"What do you mean, 'serve'," replied Emma, for want of anything else to say.

"Oh, erm, I don't really know. It could be anything, but most of all, I meant,
well," Lorraine gulped, she had nothing to lose - she'd already lost any scrap
of dignity, "sexually..."

"WHAT?" roared Emma again.

Miserably Lorraine wished she'd stop shouting that and just tell her to leave.
Already she knew she could never look her in the eye again.

"Sexually? I'm no lesbian - I'm a happily married woman!" shrieked Emma,
appalled that Lorraine even considered that she might be some kind of dyke.

Lorraine had no arguments. She just hung her head, waiting to be told to leave.
No one could accuse her of not trying.

"Wait there," said Emma and she walked in to the kitchen to try and think
clearly.

Her day had been going perfectly up until this bombshell arrived on her
doorstep and now it was turned upside down. What was she supposed to do with
the woman? Emma was appalled by the situation, but something else was now
stirring inside her too. Away from Lorraine this began to feel like an
adventure. Finally something truly exciting happening to her, like Christmas
when she was a child. Her heart was pounding and she started to look from
outside the situation. A woman she barely knew turns up on her doorstep
offering to be her sex slave. She would be able to dine out on the story for
months. Emma even grinned to herself at the absurdity of the situation. The
woman was clearly mad, obsessed or whatever, but she looked so miserable that
it was obvious she was no threat. She decided to act with kindness. She
returned to the hall where Lorraine stood inspecting her shoes and invited her
to come in and sit down.

"I thought you were going out?" said Lorraine

"That can wait," said Emma, now fully in charge.

She sat Lorraine down on the sofa and, teasingly, sat down close beside her and
put her hand on Lorraine's knee.

In a soft voice she began, "Listen, it's Lorraine Andrews, isn't it? Well
Lorraine. I'm not sure why you've developed this... this crush on me, but you
have to understand that although I'd liked to help you there really is no way
that I can."

Lorraine nodded miserably. Maybe she could leave now, though Emma seemed intent
on saying more.

"Could you tell me... Could you tell me why you have developed this crush on
me? I mean, you hardly know me..."

Lorraine wished she could explain. She hardly knew herself. Her justification
was that she was 'keeping her man from straying', but at what cost to her own
dignity?

It had all started innocently in the games that her husband, Jim, wanted to
play in bed. Jim seemed to be highly sexed, and, remembering her mother's
advice, Lorraine would go along with him, even if it wasn't a turn on for her.
Jim liked to ask her whom she was thinking about while he fucked her. Normally
Lorraine wasn't thinking of anyone in particular, she was normally trying
desperately to achieve her own orgasm before Jim finished, rolled off her and
fell asleep. To make him happy she'd say the name of a popular actor, which
seemed to satisfy him.

"Guess who I'm thinking of?" he'd asked one time as he fucked her on all fours.

"Cindy Crawford?" hazarded Lorraine, knowing he had several pin-ups of her in
the garage.

"No! Emma Finch."

Lorraine froze. Emma Finch was a snooty bitch. They'd all been at school
together and Lorraine still saw her as their children were the same age and
went to the same school.

Lorraine said nothing. Jim didn't seem to notice but carried on happily pumping
away.

"Yeah," he continued. "She's tasty alright. I'd love to get her on all fours
and do what I'm doing now."

Lorraine was terrified. Jim had never mentioned another woman before and yet
here he was openly discussing her. Was he having and affair? It was impossible
to imagine. Was she no longer good enough for him? Did he want to run off with
Emma?

She noticed how excited Jim had become and he came almost immediately after
mentioning Emma's name. He climbed off. Lorraine could barely look at him.

"God that was good," he grunted. "We should do that more often - you pretend to
be someone else and I shag you."

Lorraine felt a little relieved - it was just one of his strange fantasy games
after all. But why pick Emma of all people?

It seemed Jim had a 'thing' for Emma, and more often than not, when he wanted
to play a fantasy game it was for Lorraine to play at being Emma. He was not
content just to imagine it, Lorraine had to play along too. Lorraine realised
it was becoming an obsession when he bought her a brunette wig to wear over her
own blonde hair that resembled Emma's. Lorraine wondered what would happen if
she refused him. Would he stray? Would he go after the real thing? She did not
want to find out and donned the wig for him, knowing it made him happy.

A blue suit followed, a type that Emma wore often. Jim would make her put on
wig and dress up before he came home from work. When he came in he would carry
her upstairs and practically rape her.

The last little touch was a photo he took of Emma at a parents' evening dinner.
He had blown up the photo and now put it on the pillow next to Lorraine every
time he fucked her. His cock would be in Lorraine but his eyes were only on the
photo. This hurt Lorraine but in the back of her mind she always felt that if
he was doing this then at least he wasn't doing it with Emma.

Jim was still not satisfied it seemed. He started talking about wanting to get
a picture of Emma naked, or a pair of her, preferably used, panties.

"You're a woman," he said, stating the obvious. "Why don'cha make friends with
her and go and do aerobics together? You can see her naked in the showers then
come back and tell me all about her."

He thought it was all so easy. Make friends with Emma Finch? The woman wouldn't
even talk to her! She tried to explain to Jim but he wouldn't hear of it.

"Why not pick her up then? Become her lesbian lover - that way you can take all
the photos of her naked that you want."

Pick her up? Jim had some ludicrous notion that women could just fall into bed
with each other at the drop of a hat. This probably came from watching too many
pornographic movies that he also made her watch where skinny models shed their
clothes and jumped each other as soon as they met. She tried to explain that
even if she tried, Emma was straight (she was married and had kids) and would
not be interested. That had been her biggest mistake. Jim had made her promise
to try. If Emma refused her then he was happy - nothing ventured, nothing
gained. Lorraine tried to think of a way out of the mess. How on earth could
she possibly seduce Emma Finch? A woman who hated her? But a promise was a
promise. She would have to tell Jim all that happened if she failed and she
knew she'd be unable to make something up. What would he do if she refused to
even try?

Lorraine thought long and hard about it. Every day Jim came home and asked her
if she'd tried that day and every day she had to admit that, no, she hadn't.
Jim stopped having sex with her. It was his way of 'punishing' her. If he
wasn't getting sex from her, then whom would he get it from?

Lorraine decided to bite the bullet. She had no plan, she would just simply
knock on Emma's door - tell her that she was in madly deeply in love with her,
wait out the fireworks and leave. Result: Jim would be happy and she would lose
all her dignity. Dignity was a small price to pay.

Now, here she was, between Emma's parted thighs, her tongue already coated with
Emma's thick juices.

Lorraine had made up some stupid lie about admiring Emma from afar for her
style and beauty (which wasn't totally untrue) but never being able to say
anything. Emma lapped this up - it was the image she liked to have of herself.
So attractive that she even brought women to their knees in lustful desire! She
patted Lorraine's knee and encouraged her to go on, hoping for more praise, but
Lorriane just seemed to clam up.

"Hmmm, what is it that you particularly admire in me?" Emma said, fishing.

Lorraine racked her brains. It was her legs that she knew Jim liked - "love to
have those either side of my face" - he'd say, coarsely.

"Your legs," said Lorraine, stupidly - when would this torture end?

Emma pulled up her skirt over her knees to mid-thigh, exposing them.

"These?" she said. "Well, I am rather proud of them too. What about my body?"

"I love it all," said Lorraine, irritably, not wishing to discuss the stupid
woman's body.

Emma sensed Lorraine's agitation. Obviously being so close to the object of her
desire was exciting the poor woman. Good. Emma loved the feeling of power she
suddenly had over this wretched girl. Emma had always been a bully at school,
her natural beauty easily disguising her brutal nature.

"Well, what am I going to do with you dear Lorraine?" she said rhetorically.
Emma felt herself becoming sexually aroused by the feelings of power. She
suddenly felt almost dizzy at the possibilities. She stood up and turned to
face the wretch on her sofa.

"Look at me," she commanded.

Lorraine looked up.

Emma leaned closer to Lorraine's face.

"Do you really want me?" she said, her breathing coming fast now.

"Yes," said Lorraine, flatly.

"Then you may have me," said Emma, raising her skirt in front of Lorraine's
face.

Lorraine looked on bemused. What was she up to?

Emma's heart was pounding with the delicious excitement of exposing herself to
Lorraine. She used to get the same excitement playing 'strip poker' with her
girlfriends when she was just a girl. Emma always managed to lose and be in
just her panties whilst the others were still dressed. Now she felt like a
young girl again only this time with her own slave to bully. A slave totally
devoted to her!

"Pull them down!" she ordered.

Lorraine, still not comprehending the situation fully tugged at Emma's exposed
panties, pulling them down over her hips. A mass of curls came into view as her
cunt was exposed. Emma felt the cool air on her exposed mound and bit her lip
at the thrill.

"There you go. You wanted it - it's all yours," she panted.

Lorraine stared dumbly at the vagina exposed before her. She had no experience
of sex with women and wasn't quite sure what to do. Should she just stand up -
say it was all a mistake and walk out? She just wouldn't know what to say - far
easier to just bury her mouth in Emma Finch's cunt and seek sweet oblivion....

Emma held on to the back of Lorraine's head and ground her meaty cunt into
Lorraine's face, smearing her sticky fluid all over her mouth and chin.
Viciously she rubbed herself on Lorraine's mouth until she came. It didn't take
long, she was nearly at orgasm already through just the intoxicating feelings
of power.

As she came down from the high she saw Lorraine's miserable, sticky face which
spoiled her own enjoyment.

"Oh get out!" she said, angrily.

Lorraine did so, eagerly. Emma had just used her as little more than a
masturbation aid and she was happy to leave, but as she reached the door she
heard Emma call out - "I'll call you when I need you again."

Oh Christ, it was not over yet...

END

--------------------------------------------------

Obliging Wife Two: Margaret

Bill looked down over his beer gut at his wife lovingly slurping away on his
cock. What a wonderful woman she was. He gave a silent prayer for every blow-
job she gave him. She was always coming up with new ways to please him. She
often said that her mum told her that keeping your man satisfied in bed was the
only way to keep him straying from home. Marge obviously believed this doctrine
and Bill blessed her mum too for instilling it into her. He wondered if a time
would ever come when she would teach it to their own daughter, Jackie. Jackie
was only thirteen but blooming nicely. As Margaret ministered to the needs of
his cock his thoughts drifted, a little devilishly, to Jackie. She'd reached
that age where she was getting shy about her body so he hadn't seen much of her
recently, but what he had, the little hard nipples poking through her t-shirts,
a glimpse of pantied arse as she bent over, was certainly pleasant.

He wondered how Marge would feel if she knew he was thinking about their
daughter as she toiled over his cock with her mouth. He smiled down at her and
she smiled back, pleased to be pleasing him this way.

"Let's see your cunt, Marge," he said, and obligingly she scooted round on the
bed until her buttocks were facing him and the fleshy lips of her cunt faced
him.

"Mmmm, lovely," he said, and started to gently rub the wet slit with his
fingers. She really did not deny him anything.

Kneeling, with her head over his cock and her legs parted like that, he had a
nice view of her arsehole too. He had long ago overcome any objections she had
to him occasionally using that entrance too. When she knew it made him happy to
stick his cock in there she obliged him, despite her initial reluctance. Too
reinforce his ownership of her most private place he stuck his fingers in there
now. Margaret moaned slightly but did not object.

Lovely and tight, he thought, admiring the sight, as tight as Jackie's little
hole would be....

The thought of his little daughter's tight cunt, the feel of his wife's tongue
polishing his cock as he poked his finger up her tight little arse sent him
over the top and he spurted thick ropy semen into her mouth.

When he had finished, he said, "Show me."

Margaret scooted round and opened her mouth, revealing the fruit of his loins.
He liked this moment. She was never quite sure what he would make her do with
it. Sometimes he made her smear it over her breasts, other times round her
face, but now he simply said, "Swallow!" and she obliged, smiling proudly when
she had gulped the bitter sticky fluid.

"Was that good Bill?" she said, snuggling up to him.

"Fuckin' A," he replied, letting out a small belch.

"What were you thinking about?" she asked.

She liked asking him this. Bill shared his fantasies with her, sometimes they
even acted them out the next time. This time Bill was a bit embarrassed though.
He'd always told his wife that he'd be honest with her. If he fancied another
woman, he'd tell her and Marge would often obligingly pretend to be that woman,
just to keep him happy.*

"Oh, err, actually it wasn't really a fantasy," he said, buying time.

"Oh, what was it then?" she asked, intrigued.

Here goes, thought Bill. "I don't know why, but Jackie kind of sprung into my
head."

He braced himself.

"What, our Jackie?" queried Margaret.

"Well, yea," he said, sheepishly.

Margaret was confused. She'd never heard of men fantasising about their own
daughters before.

"Well, what were you thinking?" she asked.

Bill relaxed a little.

"Oh, just thinking about how she's growing up to be a good looking girl."

Margaret was proud of her daughter's looks too.

"Yea, she's definitely got my mum's looks, lucky thing."

Bill's cock began to stiffen again as they lay naked, discussing their
daughter's looks. Margaret, who was holding him lightly there, felt it too.

"Nice breasts too," she said, experimentally.

She felt his cock swelling rapidly.

"And a nice tight little pair of buttocks," she teased.

Bill was rock hard in seconds. She'd never known him recover so quickly after
orgasm. Margaret had not come earlier; she always made sure Billy was satisfied
first, her needs always came second. Now she felt there might be hope in
getting him inside her for a change.

"Oh, yeah," he breathed. Margaret was a star. No matter what he wanted she was
always willing to play along.

"I'd love to see her little cunt," he said.

The unfettered lust in his voice and the crudeness aroused Margaret mightily.
She was buzzing now.

"Then you shall," she said daringly. "Come with me."

She rose from the bed, her large, pendulous breasts swinging. She grabbed hold
of his erection and pulled him from the bed with her. Naked they crept down the
corridor to Jackie's room. It was nearly midnight. Opening the door, light from
the hall spilled over Jackie's bed to reveal her slumbering form, half-covered
by a duvet.

Pulling Bill into the room by his cock, Margaret came alongside the bed. She
put her finger to her lips indicating that he should make no sound then gently
pulled back the duvet from their daughter's recumbent body.

Bill looked down at the lovely girl. Her long blonde hair haloed her head on
the pillow. Her thin arms and legs were flung out in deep sleep. Carefully, oh
so carefully, Margaret reached under Jackie's t-shirt and peeled her thin
cotton panties down her thighs, over her knees, down her calves and finally off
over her feet. There was now nothing separating Bill from the object of his
desire. Margaret was also breathing heavily with the sheer eroticism of what
they were doing. She carefully lifted up the bottom of the t-shirt and opened
Jackie's legs slightly, revealing her daughter's girlish mound to her husband's
gaze.

Bill almost came on the spot at what his sexy wife was doing for him. She
smiled at him and whispered, "Is that what you wanted to see my love?"

"Yes," he croaked and promptly shot his second load of the evening all over his
wife's eager hand....

Comments? Contact the author at 'sally34@hotmail.com'

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