Absolutely True Story


Yesterday I got careless with a plate, leaving it on top of my books after lunch while I worked at my desk. Of course it slipped off and fell to the floor in what seemed like slow motion while I helplessly cursed, knowing it would shatter on the hardwood floor. I was mad at myself because it was a nice salmon-colored sandwich plate, one of a set of four that I’ve had for years.

So, I threw the broken pieces into the kitchen waste basket and wondered if my wife would notice, and what she’d say if she did.

When I came home from a bike ride, a much deserved break from work, she was home. I was pretty sweaty so I just kissed her and headed for the shower. Since we missed a day making love, I decided to be ready in case I “got lucky.” That means getting out my disposable enema, which I wash and reuse several time, and washing myself inside before I scrubbed up in the hot shower.

Once out of the shower I stepped to the bedroom to finish toweling off. Suddenly my wife appeared at the door. “What happened to the plate?”

She had a mock stern tone to her voice, which raised my hopes as to where this might go. “It fell. I had it on my books and it slipped and broke.”

“Hmm,” she said, impatiently. “You shouldn’t have done that. That was careless. You were a really bad boy.”

Yes! The game was on. Usually she’s on the receiving end, being “punished” for some small mistake. She broke a small delicate vase, a wedding gift once, and paid the price. She says that I’m always looking for some pretext to spank her. Well, I am, but only on a very few occasions have I given her more than a couple halfhearted slaps on the bottom before proceeding to pleasure her. And though she gets really nervous, shouting out before my hand comes down, it always sets her up for the best of times.

But half the reason I do it is because I want her to turn the tables on me. And now it was happening. “You need to be punished. Put that towel down and bend over the bed.” I did as I was told. “I hope this teaches you.” And with that she slapped my bare bottom hard with her open hand. It was just hard enough to hurt. Three in quick succession–slap, slap, slap. bahis firmaları My cock, which had started to rise as soon as all this began, was already hard as a rock.

“Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to do as you’re told?”

I didn’t want it to stop so soon. “No!” I replied. “I’ll do whatever I want!”

So she slapped my ass several times more, saying “bad boy!” with each blow. I loved it. I WAS that bad boy, being spanked on his bare bottom for his transgressions. A few more spanks though, and I was whimpering a little bit. For show, really, because it was fun, but that was about enough.

“Are you going to behave yourself?”

“Yes,” I said, mock-sniffling.

“All right then. Let that be a lesson. I think you want to be a good boy.” She knelt to the floor behind me. “Your ass is all red. Poor baby. Does it hurt?”


“Then let me kiss it and make it all better.” And with that she planted a soft, loving kiss right on my anus, which puckered back at her.

I love that moment just before my wife is going to love me as I so yearn to be loved. I know what’s going to happen, because she knows what pleases me. I can see it all coming, and that thrills me more than I can say. My butt tingles in anticipation.

“Come on up on the bed,” she said. “Show me your butt.” I do exactly that. “Do you like presenting yourself? Do you like showing me your ass?”

“Yes, baby, yes. I love to show you my ass. I love it.”

She started to lick my asshole with a passion bordering on fury. I moaned as she started that glorious process of opening me up. I love every part of it–how she spreads my asscheeks so the skin between is so pleasurably tight and I become even more aware of the orifice that is her primary target. She did just that, coming in close to kiss me and swirl her tongue around my anus, pausing to plant kisses and bites all over my buttocks (“Yes baby! Yes! Ohhhhhh!”) and make my testicles wag with the flickering of her tongue.

This went on a little while, then she turned me over and sucked on my cock a while. She’s the only woman who’s ever deep throated me. Not that she takes it so kaçak iddaa deep every time, or for very long. But she really likes sucking my cock.

Once I was really worked up in the front, she had me turn back to the first position–ass in the air. She gave each side a slap.

“Is your ass mine?”

“Yes, my ass is yours, love.”

“Is your anus mine? Is it? Is your asshole mine?”

I groaned in joy and desire. “Yes, my asshole is yours, baby. All yours.” I loved this line of questioning–it really excited me–but it delayed the next step. I loved how she was tickling my anus with one hand and pulling on my balls with the other. But I wanted more. So I sped things up a little by going through the litany. “My ass, my anus, my penis, my balls, they’re yours, baby, all yours. Please fuck me. Please fuck me!”

So she stepped off the bed and opened the top drawer of my dresser, the one that contains the essentials. Condoms, four kinds of lubricant, an ass plug, and a two-ended silicone dildo. She’s only used the plug on me once–I begged–and refuses to deal with the dildo. She’s pretty experimental but this is a hang-up with her. Fingers are fine but no toys. I’m not pushing it. I just mention once in a while how much I’d love if if she’d go further with me. And I leave the tools where she’ll get accustomed to seeing them.

I wasn’t not that lucky this time. But she did apply a generous amount of KY to my butthole, and gently slide a finger in. As always, I was beside myself. Every time it’s like losing my virginity all over again. It’s so raw, so new. I’m so grateful and happy in this moment out of time, totally at one with life and my body and the woman I love. “Yes, baby, yes!” What else could I exclaim?

“Do you like it?”

“You know it baby,” I replied. She responded by sliding the finger deeper, and then back, almost out, which made me despair just for a moment before she plunged it back again. This whole time I masturbated myself with my favorite back-and-forth-in-the-palm motion. All I was aware of was being a conduit for this pleasure, for this feeling of being taken, this sensation of oneness with my lover.

“Oh, kaçak bahis baby, you’re so open. Your anus is so open, I can see EVERYTHING!”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes! I love your ass.” Her fingers started to twist, opening the orifice even more. “I love fucking you up the ass.” She slid the finger out, but only for a moment, so she could introduce a second by wrapping it around the first in kind of a corkscrew shape. It feels so big every time that I don’t care that she won’t use a dildo on me. I can fantasize about that. Her fingers open me so much that I just lose control. I felt myself trying not to come, but then I realized that I had that option, unless she really wanted me to come inside her. But that would involve undressing her. Just shorts and a top, but that would take long enough that I’d lose the edge.

“Baby, should I come?” I asked. “What do you want me to do?”

“Yes! Come! Come baby come!” She fucked me harder with those lovely fingers and I gave in. I concentrated not so much on the physical sensation, which was good enough in itself. No, the real mind-blower was just the idea–the reality, that yes, this was actually happening. My adolescent fantasy come true. A woman loves me and loves my ass. I was on a bed naked with my ass in the air, my cock swollen and throbbing in my hand, while this foxy young lady who happens to be my wife plundered my anus with her beautiful fingers. Thank you God! Yes yes yes yes yes.

When it hit I almost blanked out. She knows to pull her fingers out when the first ejaculation comes. Sometimes I turn over to catch the come in my hands, or let it shoot up my stomach toward my face. This time I thought, no, fuck it, the hell with the sheets, I want to come just as I am. I fairly screamed with each pulse, each glorious pumping sensation of thick semen shooting out of my depths, all over my hands and onto the bed.

The cleaning up afterward, and the hugs and kisses, and laughter, and loving talk, were all memorable. But what I’m dwelling on right now is that joyous moment just before she penetrated me, and the other, just before coming, when I knew the orgasm approached, and that I wanted it to, but still wanted this pleasure, this completeness of being fucked to last forever. The memory will steady me and fulfill me . . . well, at least until the next time she decides to show me that my ass is hers.

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