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The next several days were like a symphony. Each melody, each note, each piece of our relationship and newly adventurous sex life, weaved themselves together into a swelling composition; gorgeous, emotional, and building to crescendo. Nerd that I am, I spent chunks of my work days researching my wife’s newly discovered kinks. Reading about dominance and submission, bondage and praise, and brushing up on my boy scout skills – which now had a much more practical purpose – by practicing tying knots. She continued chatting with numerous redditors, both men and women. Her bicuriosity had manifested itself long before the evolution of our bedroom; in fact, it had become apparent even before we took the initial baby steps in repairing our sexual relationship. With her confidence on the rise and my support and encouragement, she had found a means to start exploring it – and after several extremely fulfilling chats, we laughed together that perhaps she had graduated past mere curiosity. I watched her and held her at every opportunity, full with contentment and pride as she explored and bolstered her rediscovered confidence and reclaimed her sexual empowerment.

The most amazing thing about the lead in to that weekend, however, was how much Sadie and I talked to each other. We had dedicated tremendous time and effort to improving our communication as we worked to improve our bedroom – and we were extremely proud of where we had gotten – but this sudden explosion of kinky curiosity and perverse adventure had taken that communication to an entirely different level. It was as if, twenty-two years of being together later, we were back in the puppy love stage of teenage romance. When I worked we exchanged texts nearly minute by minute, when I was home she was in my arms; and we talked, we laughed, we questioned, we communicated.

We talked about boundaries, fantasies, consent, and desire. We spent hours detailing to each other the ins and outs of our sexual interests – what we liked, what we didn’t, and what roads we yearned for this exploration to lead us down. We talked about how she wanted to be handled physically by her “dom” and we talked about bedroom names. She loved being called a “good girl” of course, but variety is the spice of life, and to my surprise she decided that she wanted to try being called a “slut”. As for me, in my new dominant bedroom role, she had begun to call me “Sir”, but – laughing as we discussed it, she told me,

“I don’t think I’d ever call my husband “daddy”… that’s a little weird, right?”

“Just say what feels right.” I assured her with a kiss on the forehead.

We talked about the wide variety of experiences she had found in her reddit chats. Those that made her roll her eyes, those that made her cringe, those that coaxed her fingers to rub herself to orgasm, and all the experiences in between. She had been a stay-at-home mom in a very rural area for nearly fourteen years, so even beyond the lewdness and the sexting, just meeting a complex variety of new people was a breath of fresh air she hadn’t realized she’d needed so badly. A couple of nights before our weekend, however, as we talked in the bedroom while I readied myself for bed, I could read the concern on her face when I asked her about her chat luck the previous evening.

“I had to block a guy last night.” she began.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I asked, wrapping her in my embrace.

“Well, it was going well and getting pretty hot, but when I told him I was married all he wanted to talk about was “cucking” you… that’s not what this is… that’s not what I want.”

Smiling, I reached my hand up beneath her chin – softly, gently, so that her eyes rose to meet mine. When our eyes met, I slid my hand slowly and deliberately from her chin down to her neck, just beneath the jaw. I opened my grip to wrap my hand around her throat firmly, something she had told me she wanted during the week’s discussion, and as I pushed her head back a sudden soft, quivering gasp of pleasure escaped her lips.

There was a time when my relaxed, accommodating, attentive personality would perhaps have allowed a sliver of doubt to assault my ego that “cucking” was was exactly what “this” was – but that time was long past. With the strength of our relationship, the completeness of our communication, and her unyielding desire for my control, there was no doubt that I knew exactly how this situation would play out. Tightening my grip slightly, I lowered my lips to Sadie’s ear, allowing my warm breath to cascade over it before I lowered my voice and whispered,

“Bless his heart. He really thinks that’s how it would go? You’re mine. You do as I say… and anyone who wants to fuck you does as I say as well. Don’t they slut?”

Her knees weakened slightly as a deep smile pulled her lips tight, “yes.. sir”.

“Good girl. Next time you find a chat request you want to take, why don’t you make it a group chat and I’ll show you exactly who is in control.”

My grip loosened and my hand slid from her throat around to the back of her head, pulling her lips to mine. As we kissed I held her tightly for a long moment before my hands grasped her shoulders and I pushed her down to the bed. As she lay there, hunger in her eyes, I began to unbutton my shirt. When that was done I took a step forward and reached down to curl my fingers beneath the waist of her pants and panties, I could feel the anticipation and the butterflies radiating from her skin as I looked in her eyes once more and growled, “your mine”, before nearly ripping her clothing as I tore it from her body.

‘Yes, sir.” she moaned, spreading her legs open to give herself to me, her pussy already shimmering with its wetness. After I unfastened my pants, pulling them and my boxers to the floor and allowing my already hard cock to spring free, I grasped her thighs with my hands, pulling her forcibly toward me. “Good girl,” I affirmed again as I took her once, and then again before I drifted to sleep that night.

The next morning – the day before our weekend of debauchery was to start – as I sat at my little desk in my little office at work, my phone buzzed with a chat request notification. Sadie had brought me into a group chat with a redditor. The chat had started platonically, with him asking her for some relationship advice, but had begun turning sexual as he not-so-subtly asked her for help “relieving his stress”. My loving wife would tell me later, after we were finished, that it was the hottest chat she had ever had.

I trust my wife implicitly, she is a strong independent woman with a very well-known track record of not taking shit off of anyone. I didn’t need to be in this chat for me – being a “dom” isn’t my kink, and is so paradoxical to my real personality to be almost comical – I needed to be in this chat for her. Her trust and connection to me precipitated the freedom she was enjoying to give in to her own desires, and submit herself to them – and to me – completely. I needed her to see that the security and safety she felt with me would never change, no matter what discoveries and experiences we may encounter during our journey of exploration.

My presence in that chat wasn’t about me boosting my ego by making some show of being in control, it was about boosting my wife’s sense of safety and security by doing just enough that she knew I was in control, that I would all the time be in control – and just enough to make her drunk with passion. So I watched the chat as my wife and this redditor sexted, only interjecting when needed. Little things, like making sure he knew that this experience was for her enjoyment and she was to be praised like the dirty little slut she was, making sure she knew how good a girl she was as she described all the methods she would please this stranger, making him say “please” when he asked to see her tits, and making sure he asked for her consent before sending her a video clip of his cum exploding all over her picture.

Everyone left satisfied.

Later that afternoon, after texting me that she had reread that chat about three times and gotten herself off each time, she sent me a picture of a shopping cart with the text, “Getting some supplies for the weekend”

“Great,” I responded, “Anything interesting?”

A few seconds passed before she replied, “Look in the cart love”.
I opened the picture again and gave it a look: water – of course hydration would be very crucial, some of our favorite foods and snacks – obviously we’d need to keep our energy up… but then I saw it. A box of condoms; and my heart rate quickened.

Why would a man who has been married to his wife for nearly twenty years and had a vasectomy a decade ago be excited that his wife was buying condoms, you ask? Well, to figure out why my heart was beating out of my chest at this prospect, we need to consider the situation Sadie and I had been in and that we were, with increasing speed, rapidly moving away from; to put it plainly, Sadie did not enjoy oral sex – neither receiving nor giving.

I, on the other hand, enjoy them both very much. Every time we made love I desperately wanted to bury my head between her legs and explore every inch of her pussy with my tongue – flick it rapidly across her clit – before sucking that pulsing pleasure gently against my lips until she shuddered with ecstasy. But I understood the reasoning behind her dislike of receiving oral and respected that boundary immensely.

Sadie’s reluctance to give oral sex, however, was an underlying source of disconnect in our relationship for a very, very long time.

She did not do blowjobs.

In our twenty-two years of being together she had brought me to orgasm with her mouth exactly once, when we were in our early twenties. She would take me into her mouth for a few seconds on occasion early in our marriage but it had been so long since even that had happened that I could not remember it. We had tried talking about it countless times as our sexual disconnect was widening and she all the time told me that her hang up was cum. The taste, the smell, even the sight of semen made her want to gag. She could not – would not do it. Her exact words were, “if you ever came in my mouth or on my face I would cut your dick off.” And if you knew Sadie you would know that was absolutely not an empty threat.

Several times in my search for compromise and common ground I suggested that if the cum was really her hang up, I would be more than happy to wear a condom if it meant getting a blowjob. She had never taken me up on that offer… until now. That box of condoms in that shopping cart meant that my wife had every intention of giving me a blowjob for the first time in ten, maybe fifteen years. My cock hardened instantly at the wondered.

When I got home that evening I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her deeply. “Are you serious?” I asked.

“100%” she responded.

After the kids were in bed that night, nervous with anticipation of what the weekend would bring, we talked about the day’s surprise development. She expressed to me how thankful, how grateful she was not only for the dedication and work that she and I had devoted to fixing our sex life, but the patience and caring I had shown while we walked that long path. She told me that I had been so wonderful in helping her fulfill what she needed – even when she wasn’t sure what it was herself, like posting her nudes on reddit, or so giving in embracing her kinks that were not necessarily “my thing”, like restraining her, calling her names, and being her “dom”, that she wanted to give me something of herself in return. Something that wasn’t “her thing” – like giving me a blowjob.

She took me into her mouth for the first time in a long time that night, only for a bit so we didn’t bother with the condoms, but the trust, acceptance, and connection I felt in that moment was as good as any orgasm. After that, we made love. Softer, more vanilla than we’d been since this unexpected period of discovery had exploded into our lives, but we took pleasure in the softness and connection… and I’m certain a bit in the anticipation of knowing that for the next two days – all bets were off.

I awoke the next morning – 4 am as all the time – with Sadie comfortably under my arm. The curve of her ass pressed into my crotch softly, and had been for sometime judging from the fullness of my erection. I shifted slightly to kill my alarm before it went off and when I did an almost imperceptible moan escaped my wife’s lips as my hard cock bounced across her ass before escaping away. In the early morning darkness, a smile crept to my lips as my hands crept across Sadie’s curves. It was officially the weekend, was it not? As one hand slid beneath her shirt to caress her tits, the other pushed apart the skimpy panties she was wearing to busy itself preparing her pussy for its first fuck of the day.

As she moaned and began to sway her hips to rub her ass across my cock I stopped. I wondered I would offer the first surprise of the weekend by giving Sadie a 4 am wake up fucking, but my smart wife had beaten me to the punch. As my fingers found her pussy, she was not only already slick with her own juices, but neatly trimmed – not something she’d done in a long time – the rush of that surprise was incredible. Her passion, her empowerment, her sense of adventure, it drove me wild and what was supposed to be a gentle good morning fuck, became something more animalistic as I flipped her onto her back, tore her shirt over her head and took her now erect nipples into my mouth. Her soft moans drove me forward and my index finger sunk inside her as my thumb rubbed and caressed until her back began to arch and her eyes began to open. She awoke to the grip of her first orgasm taking control of her body.

As the electricity of that first release subsided, I kissed her as she began to gently fondle her tits and pull at her nipples. I pulled back to watch while she played with herself for me. Teasing me. Only a minute later I found my hands on her hips, flipping her onto all fours. Her breathing was shallow and fast and her heart was racing as I kissed along her back gently, working upwards along her spine. When I was close enough I knew she could hear, I quietly whispered, “be a good girl and grab that headboard.” A muffled murmur of pleasure was her only response as she did what she was told and I took her from behind. Slowly at first, but very quickly harder and harder until her moans became wanting screams she had to muffle with a pillow to avoid waking the kids. When her slick pussy tensed around my cock as she came the second time, and her primal screams of “oh my god” became audible even through the pillow she held to her face, it became too much and I pushed into her deeply as my cock erupted – filling her full as she sank back to the bed in post orgasmic euphoria.

I kissed her, pulled the sheets back over her naked body, and got up to begin my day.

A few hours later, after I’d had my morning coffee, knocked out a few insufferable chores, made the kiddos breakfast (french toast, their favorite), and gotten them each thoroughly engrossed in activities of their own interest, I snuck downstairs, opening our bedroom door quietly to discover Sadie still sleeping, rays of morning sunlight peeking through the curtains and accentuating each curve of her body, still naked beneath the sheet. I undressed, slid in beside her, and pushed the sheet down to reveal her soft skin and magnificent figure. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled.

“Time for another wakeup call” I said. She nodded and her smile widened. Twenty minutes of pleasure later I came inside her for the second time that day… and it was only 7 am.

The rest of the morning was a nearly combustible mix of dedicated parenting and unchained lust. We spent that time with our kids, playing games, talking, hanging out, ordinary things you’d expect from parents and their kids, but like a dormant volcano that doesn’t betray the eruption boiling just below the surface, our hunger for each other was inescapable. As the morning progressed into afternoon every opportunity for a deep kiss, a soft touch, and touches of many other varieties, were capitalized on to their fullest extent. By the time we had the kids packed and loaded up in the van, and she kissed me goodbye to drive them to their destinations, I wanted nothing but to take her. To make her mine over, and over, and over again. Waving goodbye as they pulled out of the driveway I knew very shortly I would have a chance to do just that; and now was the time to prepare.

By the time I heard the telltale sound of our garage door closing my cock was throbbing, its hardness hadn’t relaxed in the slightest since Sadie had pulled away to drop off the kids, and knowing that she was home its fullness became unbearable. She hadn’t even made it all the way inside before my left hand grabbed her by the throat, my right by the hip and I pushed her against the front door, pinning it open with our bodies in the opening, our lust on display for anyone to see.

As I kissed her neck, and my right hand moved from her hip down and around to grab her ass, I smiled to myself when I felt the hard outline of her heart capped anal plug through her shorts. Had she been wearing a buttplug all morning?

“Mmm… very nice.” I said.

She blushed just a bit as I reached to run my fingers across it and push it in small circles, just enough for her to feel it. She sighed, “yes… please, sir… please,” as I continued to kiss and nibble her neck and ears and gently move her plug in circles with my fingers. I looked her in the eyes as I held her there, the intense pleasure of the situation permeating every facet of her expression.

“You’re mine. You’re my dirty little slut, and starting now I will do to you what I want, yes?”

The words “yes sir” had barely escaped her lips before my right hand left her plug and quickly jerked her shorts and panties down to her mid thigh, my left hand never leaving her throat, as I proceeded to finger her to orgasm – pinned and exposed just inside the front door opening of our family home. When she finished a devious smile crossed her lips as I released her.

I smiled back, my contentment and comfort wrapped in passion and primal lust. “Now, be a good girl,” I said, “and go to the bedroom and finish getting undressed. You deserve a reward.”

I spent the next several hours showing her how diligent a student I had been that week. I’d been able to modify our bed with some subtle and hideable attachment points and her body wilted as I began to tie her up for the first time.

As she neared orgasm for the first time of this particular session, her hands tied to the headboard, her closed eyes fluttered open and she desperately pleaded,

“Choke me… please sir, choke me.”

I was surprised, but owing to my nerdy nature, not unprepared. Placing my hands around her neck firmly, but not too tight, I increased the pressure slightly as her body began to shake with the intensity of orgasm, and as her climax drew closer she began to scream, “oh god, oh god, oh god”

Tightening my grip ever so slightly as my own climax rose to meet hers, the intensity overtook me and just before we came together, our eyes met and as sternly and deeply as I could muster, I told her;

“You don’t pray to god, you pray to me.”

As we continued our exploration of her kinks throughout the afternoon and into the evening, her orgasms and screams were so intense at one point she needed to stop just to recover. We snuggled, talked, got snacks and drinks, and then I tied her up again, this time with her arms back – behind her knees – while I used a glass dildo in her ass to bring her to not one, but two orgasms before thrusting my cock in her absolutely dripping wet pussy – while still working the dildo in her ass – and fucking her until she came again and I filled her pussy for what had to have been the fourth or fifth time by that point.

Snuggling close again after I untied her, she rested her head on my chest and I began to stroke her chocolate colored curls. We talked, laughed, genuinely enjoyed the closeness and connection that continued to amplify as we gave ourselves more fully to one another. After about half an hour of honest, genuine conversation she raised her head from my chest, kissed me and looked into my eyes. She didn’t say a word, and didn’t have to. With a mischievous smile on her face she began to slide her body down mine until her lips ran across my cock and she took it into her mouth.

“Good girl” I sighed as my cock stiffened inside her mouth and she began to take me in and out, deeper and deeper, working her tongue across the shaft in alluring circles and figure eights. As I closed my eyes, awash in the surrealness of the pleasure washing over me, it struck me that I was not the only one who had been a diligent student that week.

One hand wafting across my stomach as the other stroked my cock up and down in time with the movement of her tongue and the pressure of her lips, she began to moan as she took me deeper and deeper still into her mouth. As wave after wave of euphoria washed over me, I opened my eyes to watch her. My wife, my gorgeous Sadie, was sucking my cock with such passion, such desire, such absolute slutty hunger, it took my breath away. I did not have to watch her long before my pleasure was ratcheted up to the breaking point… she was actually – and seriously – enjoying this.

I stopped her as I felt my cock tense and orgasm draw near. Before I could get a word out to ask her to get the condoms she grabbed my hand, ushering me to follow her toward the foot of the bed. She slinked to her knees onto the floor in front of me as I rose to a sitting position, feet on the floor, at the bed’s edge. Smiling, she grasped my cock in her hand and ran her tongue along my throbbing shaft from base to tip before taking it again deeply into her mouth. Furiously she resumed sucking my cock, the sounds of the wetness of her tongue and lips as they moved up and down my shaft mixed with the mumbles and moans of her own pleasure into a harmony of pure bliss as I felt myself drawing near to orgasm again.

“Sadie,” I whispered, between sighs of contentment, “I’m going to cum.”

She stopped, tilted her head back, looked up at me with eyes that seemed to be pleading and said,

“Cum on my face. Please…”

“Please, daddy, cum on my face.”

She took me again as deep into her mouth as she could, I reached my hand to the top of her head to guide her, and when I couldn’t hold it any longer I pulled her head back and came with an intensity I don’t know that I had ever felt until that point, covering her face in warm sticky cum for the first – but certainly not the last – time.This woman felt so safe, so connected to me in that moment that she put apart any and all of her own fears and hang ups in her lust to give me satisfaction.

We jumped into the shower together for the first of several times that weekend so I could help her clean up and for the rest of that day, deep into the night, and starting again bright and early the next, there was nothing in the world but us. We talked, snuggled, fingered, fucked, sucked, cuddled and then repeated it all again.

The following day, by the time our “weekend” drew to a close – and the time to bring our kids back home drew near – we had lost track of the number of times we had cum.The entire house was a wreck – our bedroom destroyed. My dear wife of nearly twenty years, my gorgeous Sadie, with whom vanilla sex had been the norm only a few short weeks ago had been dressed up, tied up, spanked, choked, photographed, recorded, taken multiple facials and “please daddy cum on my face” had very quickly evolved into “please daddy cum in my mouth”.

For a woman who a few short days before would visibly gag at the sight of cum, she certainly was a natural at swallowing it – and I don’t know that I have ever seen her more content, almost glowing with happiness. And I, her caring, nerdy, normally passive husband to whom she had entrusted her submission, had truly and confidently made her my slut.

We still joke that she literally went from “Calling your husband daddy is weird” and “If you ever cum in my mouth I’ll cut your dick off” to “Please daddy cum in my mouth.” over the course of one weekend. And while in a technical aspect that is true, the time and effort we put into our relationship to lay the groundwork for that transformation was years in the making… and worth every second of the wait.

Our relationship hasn’t stopped getting stronger. She still posts and chats on reddit (including a pretty trendy [slutty confession]( about that weekend), I’m still working on my restraints and being the “dom” she deserves, she still adores sucking cock – there have been many times since that weekend I’ve walked in the door after driving home from work to discover her waiting for me on her knees just inside the front door (in her plaid skirt, and knee high socks) almost begging to take my cock into her mouth.

But beyond the intensity of our sex life – which is orders of magnitude stronger at 41/39 than it was at 20/18 – the greatest gift is how much closer we are in all elements of our relationship. We take every opportunity to be together, to hold one another, to talk or text. We are happier than we have ever been, and more opportunities for adventure present themselves every day, so we think we’re just getting started.

NSFW: yes

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