The Drawer

Rob and I had been married for twenty-three years. Rob was an insurance salesman, frequently on the road for days, sometimes at a company office two hours away, and otherwise working from home. He had an office in the house, with its own phone, computer, and furniture. Rob often had checks from clients, as well as confidential papers, which he kept in a lockable "safe drawer" in his desk. I worked part-time from a local real-estate office.

I was absolutely in love with Rob. He was a good husband, good provider, a good father to our children, and was devoted to us. He coached the kid's teams and served as a scout leader to the extent his travels permitted. We shared the same views about money, saving, raising children, politics, almost everything. We never really fought.

Rob had once commented that he liked the way I looked in heels. At church, I could not help notice his eyes following women's legs and shoes as they walked up the aisle to Communion, and if there was a woman across the aisle with crossed legs and a dangling heel he seemed transfixed while trying to hide his interest.

Rob always had a much higher sex drive than I did, probably wanting it at least once a day. My interest level was more on the order of every other week. Rob's interests were also far broader than mine. After much pressure, I had in the early years taken Rob's cock in my mouth a few times, but just did not like it. I knew this was a favorite activity of many men, and it would have been one of Rob's, but I just didn't like it, so we didn't do it. Of course I knew girls who were proud of being regarded as a great lover because they would allow a man to ejaculate in their mouth, a thought I couldn't stand.

I sometimes liked Rob to "go down" on me, but I was uncomfortable with even that if I had not showered thoroughly before. I disliked French kissing, something Rob also wanted but had "given up on". Rob occasionally expressed frustration and dissatisfaction with the frequency and lack of "wet contact" in our sex. In one rare instance when we made love right after exercising, he tried to lick my sweaty armpit, and I immediately clamped my arm to my side. He had tried getting his mouth on my pussy when I hadn't showered, which I just could not abide. Once, when I was just starting my period, he begged to be allowed to taste me, but again, I refused, as I did on a few occasions when he tried to get his tongue between my ass cheeks. I just couldn't stand the thought of him tasting me "dirty". After all, we did have "normal" sex.

Rob once said he felt closed out because I wouldn't let him taste the "real me," like I was saving it for someone deserving. He said it sounded like I was glad we had made "responsible" choices, rather than having been led astray by urges to be with someone we longed to be physically integrated or "at one" with. He said he had that longing for me, but that I didn't seem to have it for him. I assured him this wasn't so. To me, our sex life was fine; like it was supposed to be. We did all the things that any normal couple would do. Rob had introduced some vibrators into our sex life, and I increasingly enjoyed him using them on me. I had even used them myself on a few occasions when he was away. We would kiss. I would let Rob touch and kiss my breasts, then put his fingers inside me, after which I would quickly ask him to get on top and enter me, and we would screw until he had a climax. If I was turned on, I would have one pretty quickly. If I was having sex just to satisfy Rob, I would try to get him inside me as quickly as possible so he could get off and we could go to sleep.

Our life was so perfect, our sex life was normal, and I loved Rob so much, that I couldn't see these imagined or silly "deficiencies" in our sex life being any more of a problem for Rob than I found the annoyance or inconvenience of his leaving the medicine cabinet drawer open after brushing his teeth.

Working in his office at home one afternoon preparing for the next day's out-of-state week-long trip, Rob got a call that the head scout leader wanted him to stop over, and Rob headed for his house. Almost immediately after he left, I remembered an invitation we had gotten to a wedding, and had given him to mark on his office calendar, but I still needed to put it on mine. Not finding it on Rob's desk, I searched through a pile of magazines, papers, and newsletters sitting on a chair.

As I looked through the pile, I came upon an unusual magazine, open to a classified ad section. Thumbing through the pages, there were pictures of men kissing and licking women's armpits, breasts, backsides, legs, shoes, bras, and every other part. Women were inserting vibrators or dildos in the men's rectums. They were masturbating the men, or making them do it themselves, and then having them lick their semen from the women's bodies, shoes, dildos, etc., and these were the "milder" activities depicted! Some women were beating or torturing men. Others were urinating in a man's mouth, or having him remove a tampon with his teeth and lick her clean.

The classified section had ads from women all over the country offering to make men worship them in the same way. Most were for visits of an hour or two, costing at least a hundred dollars. One ad was titled "Thirty Dollar Quickie":

"Bring your dildo or vibrator and size 8 heels. Lie naked on the floor before my throne, your legs in the stirrups. As I tell you how my wheel-driven electric fucking machine is sliding the dildo you brought in and out of your pussy, you will lick and worship the shoe in your mouth while my other high heeled foot strokes you to climax. Or I may make you show me how you hold and rub the shoes on your cock until you cum when we have phone sex. I'll describe how my womanizing machine continues pussifying you until you have licked every drop of cum from my shoes. And I do mean every drop. All this in fifteen minutes. Take the heels and dildo with you. You'll be bringing them back to me over, and over..."

Rob's drawer was open, and inside I found more magazines hidden beneath the papers. There were also several DVDs. Rob called to say that his scout meeting was going to take a while and he might not be home until six, so I could plan dinner. I browsed a few more of the magazines, looking at the pictures and skimming some of the stories and articles. I popped one of the DVDs into the player. It had excerpts of videos Rob had rented or downloaded. They featured extensive sessions of men undressing their "mistresses" and worshipping them orally. The men would kiss the women's armpits, breasts, asses, pussies, or shoes. A man was wearing a plug in his ass while fucking a woman, and then licked his semen out of her vagina. Men were lying on their backs masturbating before women fucking them with condom covered strap-on penises. In some, after the man would cum, the mistress would remove the condom and dip the strap-on in the cum and make the man lick or suck it clean. One picture showed a man lying on the floor masturbating as a woman urinated in his mouth, and a dildo was driven in and out of his ass like a piston by a holder connected to a motor-driven wheel. After the man came, the woman repeatedly dipped her shoe in his cum and made him lick it. In other scenes men ejaculated and licked cum from women's bodies or clothing in sessions that presumably would last over an hour.

Knowing Rob would be rushed for time and not inspecting his drawer, I took several magazines and DVDs to peruse while he was away, and then turned to fixing dinner and doing what I could to gather clothes and things he would need for his trip. This gave me several days to look through the magazines and watch the DVDs more thoroughly.

The magazines had both pictures and stories. Some involved women talking in the most demeaning and insulting way to the men. In some, the women were whipping the men or inflicting pain in other ways. In others, the women were seducing the men into revealing their most intimate and embarrassing fantasies, and then using that knowledge to make the men perform the forbidden and embarrassing acts with them as a sign of the woman's love for and desire to secure the love of her partner.

The kinds of scenes Rob had excerpted onto his DVDs were all of the latter quality: Women requiring men to perform their most hidden fantasies to show their love for the woman in the most embarrassing way, and the woman indicating that she liked to be the object of her partner's love; to make him reveal his most hidden fantasies; and would require him to perform for her over and over for the rest of his life.

In almost all the scenes Rob recorded, after the man climaxed, his partner insisted that he eat his cum. If he came inside her, she made him lick every drop of semen from her pussy. If she had fucked him with a strap-on dildo, she would remove the condom, dip the dildo in the puddle of semen, and make him suck and lick it. Or, she would use her shoe or boot or foot to collect it and put her foot in his mouth for him to lick it clean.

One magazine article talked about cum-eating, and helped me understand. For some men, being told how they would have to lick and swallow every drop of their ejaculate as they escalated toward climax was extremely exciting. But, the instant these men climaxed, they would have no interest whatever, and even be slightly repulsed and extremely humiliated by the idea. Yet, half an hour later, the man would feel dissatisfied, like their sex life was incomplete, if the woman had not required that he eat his cum from her both to satisfy her longing to see him do it, and as evidence of his total devotion and to be sure he knew the totality of their union. Having the woman tell the man as he ate his ejaculate how she loved to see him cleaning her; how he could have no doubt that she was his; and how she loved knowing that she would be watching him eat every drop of cum he ever produced in the future as a sign of his love for her, made it all the more exciting. In fact, while having no interest when starting to lick semen, the man might be fully ready for another climax when done, given the right verbal atmosphere.

The magazine also explained how vibrators, dildos, plugs or other toys inserted in the rectum stimulated both the anus and the prostate. Additionally, knowing that the woman required him to wear a butt plug or vibrator while having sex as a sign of his union with her, like a wedding ring, was both stimulating and embarrassing. He was being required to show his devotion and acknowledge that she "had him"; that he was "pussy whipped". Really, it was an assurance that his lover was going to keep him that way forever. Her verbalizations about being able to fuck his pussy, like a girl, emphasized the reality of her ownership, and the degree he was admitting his need for her. Similarly, statements and actions reflecting her ownership of his testicles, and his obligation to provide the sperm they produced according to her wishes, also emphasized not only their union but the fact that she valued it. Of course, many of these women wanted their partner to know that he was privileged to be the one she had selected to satisfy and care for her completely. That meant not only intercourse and other ways of satisfying her, but also included cleaning her and knowing the taste of the cum her balls produced.

Magazines! DVDs! Time spent reading them, watching long videos, and extracting sections of the videos showing that for which he longed, and felt incomplete and unfulfilled without!

Suddenly, I realized that for Rob this was not like the medicine cabinet door being open. I didn't collect magazines or movies about closed doors. No one was offering to close doors in front of me for fifteen minutes if I'd give them thirty dollars. My sense of having achieved union with someone did not relate to doors. Rob craved frequent release, "wet contact", and a sense of being wanted totally. He craved it badly, and so did enough other people to make an industry for those who needed it and those offering it.

Maybe I was selfish. I did know women who were much more sexually adventurous than me. Yet I didn't spend money recklessly, I was a devoted wife and mother, but just wasn't highly sexed and didn't like anyone finding me dirty.

Thinking about the ad for the quickie, it was interesting that the woman placing it required men to bring their own dildo and shoes for her to wear. Actually, she was running a very clean procedure. No one tasted her bodily fluids. Everything that contacted a guy's body was his own. And it all occurred in a pretty short amount of time. Maybe there was something I could do to satisfy Rob's need for both frequent and "wet" sex, while still not having to share myself "dirty".

From the scenes Rob had copied onto the DVD, it was obvious that Rob longed to taste women's vaginas and armpits, to lick their asses, worship their legs and breasts. But scenes about a man being fucked by a woman, made to worship shoes, and being made to eat his cum from her shoes, feet, breasts, or elsewhere on her body were also big fascinations.

Rob returned from his trip late one afternoon, letting me know he was hoping for sex that night, but I was in the second day of my period. "I'm sorry, honey," I said, "but maybe there's another way I can get you off." With that the kids were in the door for dinner, which ended discussion for then.

We had a vibrator, and I had KY jelly. After dinner I slipped into a pair of heels, and sat beside Rob watching TV until it was time for bed. As Rob got ready for bed, I undressed, put on my PJs and slid under the covers, still wearing my heels. Rob soon joined me. I had left the clicker for the DVD player on his night table. I had an uninteresting program playing on the TV in our room, as Rob climbed in next to me.

"Oh, there's something I wanted you to see. Just hit play," I said, as I snuggled against him and rubbed his tummy. He did. I had the DVD set at a kind of "quickie" with a woman lying on the bed, and a guy beside her, legs in the air presenting his "pussy" for her to fuck, as her shoe rested in his mouth. She spoke to him continually until he climaxed about what she was doing to him, and what he was doing because she told him to and he would do anything she said. After he climaxed she rubbed her shoe in the cum and made him lick it as she continued to fuck him, play with his balls, and tell him how he would be eating every drop of cum he produced from now on.

Rob immediately turned red and protested, but I said, "Be quiet and watch. That's an order." When the video had finished, I slid my hand down to Rob's cock, which was dripping with pre-cum. "Lay down on your back, with your feet up here against the head board and your face by my feet," I said. From my nightstand, I removed the vibrator and KY jelly, and slid my shoe into Rob's mouth.

Now was the really hard part. It wasn't about just mechanically sliding a vibrator in and out of him, squeezing his balls, and passively resting my shoe in his mouth. For this to mean anything, it had to be me talking, but creating the same atmosphere and urgency as the women in the videos. After all, I was doing this because I loved Rob, and wanted him to know it. Whatever alienation Rob felt because of my "wet sex" discomfort, I wanted to overcome with his wetness, and every day so his need for frequency would be satisfied.

I wanted Rob to know I knew his secret now and was just as intent as the women in the videos to have his tongue lick and worship my shoes and feet as I exercised control of his balls and "pussy". I wanted him to know he would bring me every load my balls produced, put it where I told him, and that he was the one who would be cleansing every drop from me, because I was his to love and care for. He wanted "wet sex;" well, he'd be getting it from now on, because his balls were mine, and he'd know he'd scored with me because he'd be licking every drop of crème from me. I had to keep telling him how his pussy was mine to fuck; that it was our secret; that I could fuck him like a girl whenever I wanted; that he was my pussyboy, to lick and worship me.

"Kiss my shoes, Rob. Lick them. I want to see you making love to them with your mouth and tongue," I said, as I placed the toe of my shoe in his mouth. "Hold and caress my leg lovingly as you guide the shoe in, out, and its parts around your mouth. Yes, give head to my shoe. Take it in your mouth and tongue and kiss it. Extend your lips over and around it. You'd better be very convincing, or I'll think you really wanted those other girls on that DVD and in the magazines instead of me. Make love to my shoe with our mouth.

"Yes, that's my vibrator, parting your labia, getting ready to penetrate your vagina; I'm going to make love to your pussy, like a girl, like I'm going to be doing to you for the rest of your life. We'll be having sex the regular way or any way I want whenever I'm in the mood, but since you want it every day, you'll be getting it like this all the rest of the time, every night and any time I think you need it."

"Jerk your cock while I play with my balls and fuck you with my vibrator. When we have sex the regular way you'll be licking the sperm my balls produce from my pussy from now on. All the rest of the time your pussy will be fucked. You'll make love to my toy with your pussy. You'll lick the semen my balls produce from wherever I tell you to put it. And now I want it for my shoes. Yes, these are my balls, that produce my sperm. You'll tell me every time my balls are ready to give me their load, and you'll milk it out for me however and wherever I tell you. And then, you'll lick up every drop of my crème. Thank me for letting you wear my balls. Tell me you'll play with yourself and put on a little show for me whenever I say, and do it for me with love. Maybe I'll make you masturbate your pussy as well; to show me you love me. I'll make you do it because I love you, and now I know your secrets. Keep jerking. Keep stroking. Abusing yourself, right in front of me, while you fuck me with your pussy like a woman. Keep licking those shoes. Caress my leg lovingly, giving head to my shoes, taking me with your pussy, lovingly stroking for me to produce my sperm for you to lick from my shoes..."

Rob came, and I rubbed the shoes in the puddle of cum on his stomach as I continued working the vibrator and playing with his balls. "I know you want to stop now, Rob. I know you're done and completely satisfied. But I also know that in less than half an hour, you'll feel that somehow our union wasn't really complete, because it wasn't wet. That feeling of dissatisfaction, that somehow you were denied the true union you're seeking, will return. I don't want you feeling that way. I want you to know that I love you, and that you have me completely. And the only way you'll know that is if you have no doubt that you've scored because you've tasted every drop of our union. So even though you don't want to do it right now, I'm going to insist that you lick my crème from my shoe, and I'm going to keep fucking you and collecting it from your tummy with my shoe until you've swallowed it all. That's how it's going to be tonight. And that's how it's going to be from now on every time my balls release my crème."

I returned the shoe to Rob's mouth. "Open your mouth, Rob. Take the toe of my shoe in your mouth and lick and suck it clean. Yes, lick the cum from my shoe. Taste my sperm. Make love to it with your mouth. Open wide. Let it all the way in. Eat my crème. There's more on your stomach. Let me get if for you. Even after you're done, I know there will still be a slight coating of sperm on my shoes. Every time I look at them tomorrow I'll know I'm wearing your love. I'll think of you jerking off to give me my crème as I fuck your pussy. I'll picture you licking the cum from my shoes, because you are mine and because you love me. And maybe you'll finally know that I love you and am yours completely, and want you showing that you are mine, and this is how we do it, because this is the "wet sex" I can give you, and that you will beg and thank me for."