A Night Without Tv

"So, what hit series are we plugging into tonight?" I asked my wife, settling onto the couch with some marked glee. I'll have to admit, when we first got married, I was shocked with the number of TV shows she liked watching almost every day, but I guess she's grown on me. "Are those high school kids ever going to graduate and get it over with? Are there going to be new antics from the gay couple? Who's going to die and who gets born?"

She gave me that dry look of hers and replied, "Very funny. And, just so you know, there are a couple of very intriguing shows on tonight, but unfortunately, you're not going to get to watch them."

"But I did the dishes

yesterday

–" I started to complain.

"What have we turned into?" she asked me with a slight smile, sitting in my lap. "C'mon, couldn't I have been implying that tonight is going to be devoted to hot, heavy sex instead of our usual baking in front of the TV?"

She wouldn't bring it up so lightly

, I decided.

She must be teasing me again.

"Now I know you might still be a little tired from taking me from behind last Saturday and hearing me beg to come, but if I wanted to play a little tonight, surely you wouldn't begrudge me."

I glanced at her. She looked serious. Well, not serious exactly, but she had that look in her eyes, like she was already devouring me mentally. I couldn't help but smile; I have a penchant for taking advantage of her when she's in those moods. Which, luckily for me, is pretty often.

Besides, I know that what she'd said was relatively tame, but it takes some bravery for Rachel to talk dirty to me. I don't know why, since I have the same reaction every time, and it's definitely a favorable one. I was thinking about what I could do to her when she stood up out of my lap and took my hand.

"Let's go," were the beautiful words that I heard coming out of her mouth.

I wasn't quite sure how to start once we got to the bedroom. I mean, obviously we've done this several times before, but usually Rachel isn't so aggressive, although she hadn't exactly done anymore than bring me upstairs and promise me sex. But I didn't have to worry; she sat me down on the bed and clicked on what appeared to be pre-prepared music. It was some obscure, unobtrusive easy listening and I have no idea where she got it from.

"Now, keep in mind that I don't do this very often," she said with a nervous smile, "so cut me some slack." I opened my mouth to respond and she cut me off, "And don't speak either, that'll only make this more difficult for me to pull off."

So I shut up and checked out my wife instead. Both of us work, and in the hurry of the morning I usually don't even take time to notice what she has on. But I could see why she had so many male coworker friends that always seemed to be asking her out to dinner. She had on a matching black business suit and jacket, offset by a pale pink oxford shirt which, I'd noticed during dinner, had one button too many open. I'd decided not to say anything, but I had eyed that easily accessibly cleavage a couple of times over our meal. She was still wearing her heels, pretty sandals that added three inches to her height. I knew from experience that she wasn't wearing any stockings or pantyhose or whatever you call it, although you couldn't tell from her smooth, firm legs. I briefly remembered seeing her put lotion on those legs this morning, and imagined how soft her skin always was under my hands.

Damn

, I thought to myself,

my wife is really hot. I should check her out more often.

"I know exactly what I want you to do to me tonight, sweetie," she said, cutting off my thoughts as she slipped off her jacket and tossed it aside. She was standing with her legs slightly apart. "I want you to take me, in every sense of the word." She put a finger at her neck and traced slowly down to that cleavage I'd been watching earlier, making my eyes follow. "I know you were looking at my breasts before, Gary, just like all the men probably were today." She waited until I looked up at her and caught her eye. She smiled wickedly, "I didn't wear a bra."

I shook my head slightly. My wife had always been a tease and apparently always would be.

"All day I've been thinking about you teasing me, Gary," she cooed softly, caressing a button on her shirt slowly. "About you licking and sucking on my breasts, making me moan and arch my back toward you." She unbuttoned that top button. "About your hands covering my body, Gary, touching me and making me wet ..." pause ... "and hot ..." pause ... "and ready ..."

"To what?" I couldn't help asking as she unbuttoned the next button slowly.

"To fuck," she almost whispered.

My cock, if I hadn't mentioned, had hardened at about "I want you to take me in every sense of the word." At her obscenity, I just wanted to bend her over and slam into her until she screamed my name. But it was her night, and she had plans that I wouldn't want to interfere with.

"I want you to take it slow tonight," she commanded me softly, "and really concentrate on me." My goodness, how many buttons does that woman have! Another one was opened, but her shirt wasn't hanging completely open yet, ready for me to pull off of her. "None of this impatient business ... Do all of the things I like, Gary ... I want to be panting and begging for you to take me."

"Oh, trust me, baby, you will be," I murmured. She'd finally opened her shirt all the way and I could see her breasts hanging loosely inside, swaying gently with her every motion. "But first I want to see that body ... take off that skirt and bend over so I can see what I'm getting myself into."

She turned around and unzipped slowly. Then she pulled the skirt down without bending her knees so that she was on display for me. It was unbelievably sexy. To my slight disappointment, she was wearing panties, a string bikini in a deep purple color.

"I guess I can deal with that," I managed to say.

"One more thing," she added, straightening, her shirt still hanging about her in some mockery of decency, still wearing her heels and panties. She pulled something out of a drawer and tossed them into my lap.

I looked down. They were ropes.

She met my gaze and I could tell she was a little nervous, but her voice belied nothing. "Tie me up."

Oh. So

that

was where she was headed tonight.

After some brief thoughts on my part and a little action, I'd removed Rachel's shirt without further arousing her and she was lying spread-eagled on the bed. Her arms were tied to the headboard, but I left her legs free and her panties on, for the moment at least.

I stood back for a moment and tried to ignore how hard I was. I had to concentrate on Rachel tonight. She'd ordered me to. And it was easy to forget myself with her lying before me, breasts exposed, nipples already hardened, eyes innocent, hands bound. I saw a damp spot on her panties but didn't allow myself to smile, staring straight into her eyes in what I hoped was a stern and dominating manner. It seemed to work; she bit her lip with a touch of apprehension.

As I went for her feet, I didn't need to speak. I simply took one of her toes in my mouth and ran my tongue over it, sucking gently, then hard.

Now, I'm not sure exactly what's sensual about toe-sucking, but it definitely works. I remember the day that Rachel asked me to try it, in a shy, I-just-washed-my-feet approach, and I agreed on the condition that she would return me the supposed favor. And that led to a lot more than just toe-sucking. But I remembered what she did that felt good to me, and I repeated it on her as she lay still and acquiescent.

When I stood again, the look in her eyes had deepened to definite lust. I could already read it in her face: she wanted me. But I wanted verbal confirmation. I knew she was shy about these things, so I'd have to get her a little more turned on before I could get it. Which wouldn't really be a problem.

Keeping her gaze in mine, I palmed both of her breasts gently in my hands, careful to avoid her erect nipple. I couldn't resist whispering to her, "Your nipples are so hard, Rachel," while gently massaging around them. She swallowed visibly and tried not to let sound escape her, a customary game of hers. She likes to make it difficult for me to make her moan, which of course is a misnomer because it's still far from difficult. I rubbed her areolas gently and earned my first whimper.

"Oh, Rachel, that seemed almost too easy," I taunted her, and I saw her pull against her restraints for the first time. Her eyes widened a little bit as it seemed to sink in that she was truly trapped for me. Of her own design, no less.

I decided not to give her any more time to think and captured her nipples. She moaned aloud then, and her eyes closed as I rolled them casually between my fingers. She moved towards me, offering her breasts to me unconsciously.

I only let myself indulge in this for a few seconds before pulling my fingers away and bending immediately to lick her instead. Using the flat of my tongue, I caressed the skin along the bottom of her breasts and heard her whisper my name now. I glanced up to see her expression. Her eyes were closed and her mouth half-open as she tried to regain control over her body.

"Open your eyes, Rachel," I sent up to her to be slowly registered past the pleasure. "I want to see them while I do this. Watch me." I waited until her eyes fluttered open again and met mine. "That's good," I cooed, then calculatingly licked from the bottom of her breast up, stopping just short of her nipple.

Again, she pulled against the ropes binding her down and let out a whimper of frustration when she realized anew that she was stuck. "Gary –"

"What?" I asked leeringly.

Even in sex, my wife has her pride, and it surged back up at me. She gritted her teeth and said, "Nothing."

"Oh," I said, and I repeated the process for her other breast. In under a second she was scrabbling at her ropes again in a renewed struggle.

"Gary," she whined, and I let my tongue dance between her breasts. My eyes never left hers. "Gary!"

"I'm right here," I mocked her. I made sure my warm breath blew gently over her nipples to tease them for all I was worth.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please suck on my nipples, Gary."

Her tone and the matching arch of her back were perfect, not to mention her eyes, which were getting wilder with each word and each second. I wanted to tease her more but I couldn't do anything but comply, and I took a nipple in my mouth, sucking gently as her breathing suddenly got much more ragged and she fought to get more of her breast into my mouth. I caught her other nipple in a free hand and played it, my eyes cast upward uncomfortably to catch her facial expressions. She was calling out for me now, and pulling at the ropes that inexorably tied her down.

I switched nipples suddenly, running my tongue hard against the rough surface. She looked down at me to watch just as I bit and tugged gently to make her noises for me a little louder. She couldn't seem to hold still, thrashing helplessly and fruitlessly against her imprisonment. Her other nipple still felt moist from my ministrations in my other fingers, and I didn't let up for a minute or two, switching nipples occasionally, enjoying her desperate whimpers and her futile movements.

I stopped for a moment to suggest reasonably, "Why don't you just accept that the ropes aren't going to break and enjoy what I'm doing to you?" I felt her make a conscious effort to relax above me, but when I held her nipple between my teeth and flicked it with my tongue, she tensed up and arched towards me again.

"I can't hold still," she moaned, even as I ignored her and tortured her nipples relentlessly. "Please untie me, I can't take this."

I sat up, leaving her breasts, and looked her straight in the eye. "You will, though," I said quietly to her. "You have to. You're at my mercy."

I saw her hips move that time. A new idea popped into my mind and I jammed my thigh up against her wet panties. Involuntarily, her hips moved to meet me, and her eyes closed as she began to thrust against my thigh. A feeling of exhilarating power rushed through me as I watched her hump me hungrily, then realize what she was doing and try to stop herself.

Finally, she held herself rigid against me. I could just imagine the slight pressure on her clit, her intense desire to make it more, and I thought I could feel her wetness on my thigh already, although it could've been my imagination.

She finally opened her eyes. The moment she did, I said innocently, "C'mon, Rachel, don't you want to fuck me?"

Her hips reluctantly thrust at me again.

"You like humping my thigh, don't you?" Again. "It makes you look like a slut, you know, but I guess you'd like that, wouldn't you?" She was pumping constantly again now, but slower than before, eyes shut again as if trying to forget what she was doing, wrists moving against her ropes jerkily. It was a beautiful sight.

"I've been talking a lot more than you, Rachel, and I think it's your turn," I informed her, pushing my thigh against her as her motions slowed for a second. As she renewed pumping, she moaned, "Yes, Gary ... Oh, it feels ... so ... good ..."

I lifted my thigh away from her and, before she could protest, moved down quickly to the spot I'd just left. Yes, she'd definitely made a stain on her panties, and I could smell her distinct scent. I couldn't help but lick my lips. "Keep on talking, Rachel," I managed to get out, and though her eyes were closed she could tell I was close to her pussy.

"Gary ... I want you to fuck me ... while I'm tied up," I heard her say brokenly. I had wanted to tease her a lot more, but hearing her say that drove thoughts of kissing her thighs out of my mind. I licked at her panties, gratified by the returning push of her pelvis towards my mouth and the responding "Gary!" Let me tell you, there's nothing for a guy's ego like a woman screaming out his name, and I love hearing it.

"Keep going," I threatened her accordingly.

"Gary –" It was hard for her to speak when she was so turned on, I knew, but I thought she could handle it, so I made a guess of where her clit was and sucked there. "Gary! Oh my God ... You turn me on so much ... That feels so good ... I'm trapped for you, Gary, I can't get out – unless –" She was panting again. "Unless you let me go – please – fuck me –"

I growled into her pussy, I couldn't take it anymore. Without another word, as she continued obediently to beg me to fuck her, I ripped off her panties and secured her legs wide apart.

"Gary, I'm totally helpless to you ..."

That woman really knew what to say to push my buttons, which is probably why I married her. I didn't even bother to take my clothes off, just pulled down my pants and boxers a little bit and plunged straight into her still clad in my business attire. She likes being used, I know, and when I leave my clothes on, they scrape against her thighs and make her scream my name even louder.

I groaned just as loud as her now as she kept up the talk for a few more seconds: "Gary – come inside of me, Gary – I need to come – I want to feel you with me –"

I felt her shuddering orgasm pull me closer and tighter inside of her and I joined her in pleasure.