Oxygen Games

[Recap: While trying to get his wife pregnant, Aidan has come up with a game to spice up their love life. It appears to be harmless enough, so Rosa reluctantly agrees. The strip poker round of the game didn't go her way and Rosa found herself paraded naked in front of their friends, but then Aidan revealed a darker side, forcing her to carry on in private until he had her helpless]

---

PLUSES AND MINUSES

Rosa screws up her face. "Ice hockey? You don't know the first thing about ice hockey."

"Neither do you," Aidan replies.

"So how do we pick teams?"

"By colour."

Rosa stares at her husband for a moment.

"What?" Aidan asks.

"You're up to something."

"Like what?"

"Like, you know damn well the form of both teams before we go into it. You just want me to think you don't."

Aidan laughs. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're fucking cunning."

"So, you don't trust me?"

"After that goddamn poker game, no, I don't trust you."

Aidan holds up a hand, warding her off. "How about we pick just based on team colours, right now?"

"Sure, but I pick first. That way it stays random. What are the colours?"

Aidan slides his arms around Rosa's waist, letting his hands rest on her trim buttocks. He begins to stroke her bottom through the tight fabric of her exercise shorts.

"No way. Stop trying to distract me. Colours."

Aidan grins. "Blue and white," he says.

"White."

"Why white?"

"Because you said blue first. You were trying to get me to pick blue."

Aidan seems to find this hilarious.

"Baby, if I'd wanted you to pick a colour I'd have said it last because I know that you'd think I was tricking you."

He receives a sharp slap on the bottom; Rosa wrinkles her nose at him.

"Sure. Because you're a genius."

Aidan kissed her. "Smart enough to marry you."

Rosa pulls back, businesslike. "And the winner gets what?"

In response, Aidan pulls her in tighter, so their faces are close and he can look into her dark brown eyes. "Dress up," he says.

"Dress up?"

"Yes. The winner gets to dress the loser in whatever he wants. Pick the underwear, pick the clothing, and then we go out to dinner."

"Whatever she wants, you mean."

"He. The winner. You in?"

"She. She is in. She's gonna dress you up big time. When's the match?"

"Tomorrow night," Aidan says and kisses her again. "Can you cover for me, lunchtime?"

"Why?"

"I need to go shopping. This is gonna be so good."

---

It's dark by the time they get home. Aidan makes a show of gathering shopping bags out of the back seat of the car, teasing Rosa with them. Rosa ignores him as much as she is able, opening the front door and letting him trail in behind.

"I'll get the dinner," she says.

"Sure. I'll go get the match on."

"I want you to go and lay the outfit out on the bed first."

"Oh, I thought it would be more fun showing you after. After you lose."

"No way. I want to see what's at stake."

"And you do the same, right?"

Rosa arches her eyebrow, "Honey, how can I do that? I was stuck at work all day while you got to go shopping."

She turns and heads into the bathroom, conversation over. Once she's safely behind the bathroom door, she pulls down her exercise pants and squats on the toilet. In her hand is a small package which she opens and pulls out the thin plastic stick. There is a little window halfway along its length showing a dark line which, to Rosa, resembles a minus sign.

Rosa grits her teeth, puts the stick between her legs and pees on it. She sits there for several long minutes, clutching the plastic in both hands, pants around her ankles, watching the little window. No change. The minus has not turned into a plus.

Rosa's head sinks and she feels a weight descend on her. Aidan calls out from the other room.

"Babe, I got it on. They're about to start."

Rosa drops the stick into the little round make-up bin by the toilet. The banter and the optimism evaporate out of her, replaced by a tightness around her chest. She'd actually allowed herself to believe that this time had been the one. It had felt so good, so right, that feeling of completeness as Aidan had held her in his arms in bed, still wrapped in the body stocking. Tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she wipes them away savagely.

"Coming," she calls.

Rosa pulls her pants up and flushes. She washes her hands, letting the warm water trickle over her fingers.

"Hurry up, you're gonna miss it."

Finally, she turns off the tap and takes a deep breath, opens the bathroom door.

"I'll just get a couple of meals in the microwave. Be there in two minutes."

In the kitchen, watching the microwave timer tick down to zero, Rosa feels a dark emotion bubbling up inside her. It's not fair. It's just not fucking fair.

The microwave dings, and she wipes a hand over her face, feeling the dampness on her cheeks. Losers cry, she says to herelf. She's not a loser. Rosa gathers up the meals and takes them into the lounge.

---

The clock ticks down. The commentator talks about dying seconds, but in reality the result has been a certainty for the last ten minutes with the team in white up by two and the blue team a man down due to an earlier foul. Aidan has become quiet, the initial loud expletives now reduced to half-hearted mumblings as the puck once again spins away down the other end of the rink.

"Ah, crap," says Aidan. "That's the match." He slaps his knee loudly in frustration.

Rosa is watching him instead of the screen and has been for the last few minutes. She's watching the play of expressions across his face as his team miss their chances and his loss becomes inevitable. She knows she's won and normally she would have been cackling at his misfortune, but she feels drained instead. Aidan clicks off the screen and turns to her, trying to read her expression as she surveys him quietly. Something's not right with her, but he doesn't know what.

"Shit. Ok. Let's get this over with," he says, clearly annoyed.

"Did you lay it all out on the bed?" Rosa asks.

"Yep. For all the use it is now. I spent a ton as well."

Rosa doesn't respond, but she swings off the couch and heads towards the bedroom. She can hear Aidan following behind. On the bed, neatly arranged, is one of her favourite cocktail dresses, next to a full set of black, lacy lingerie. Rosa runs her fingers over the fabric, feeling the silky smoothness of the thick-high stockings, the lace of the garter belt. The bustier is strapless with a sheer panel at the front to display her cleavage. The lacy panties are crotchless.

"Good job I won," Rosa murmurs. "You would have dressed me up like a prostitute."

Aidan's face darkens, sensing his wife's mood.

"You would have looked so hot in this," he says, defensively.

Rosa doesn't reply, her eyes still on the lingerie laid out on the bed.

"So," Aidan begins, "You have the advantage of knowing what I got you, for when you go shopping for my outfit tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm not going shopping tomorrow," Rosa replies, a little too casually. "I've already got your outfit."

"Let's see it then. Only fair."

Rosa walks around behind her husband and wraps her arms around his waist, nestling into his back. Over his shoulder, she can see that he's still staring at the lingerie, at the missed opportunity. She whispers in his ear.

"Remember the terms of the bet, baby? The winner gets to dress the loser in whatever she wants?"

She hugs his waist.

"Let's hope all that stuff fits."

Rosa feels her husband twist in her grip. She can see the concern on his face.

"No way. No fucking way."

"Bet's a bet."

Aidan's mouth moves but no words come out.

"You're not backing out are you?" she asks, innocently.

Aidan finds his voice. "I can't wear that. I...."

"You don't think you'd fit? The material's got some stretch in it." Rosa runs her hands over her husband's chest. "Of course, it'll be a lot tighter on you than on me."

"You can't make me wear it. Not out. Not in public."

Rosa makes a pouting face and then kisses him.

"But it was okay for me to go out like that."

"You'd have had the dress on. No-one would have seen...."

"Then how about I let you not wear the dress to dinner?"

"What the fuck? You were...?"

Rosa nods solemnly, and says, "You laid out the entire outfit. That includes the dress. It's lycra so I think it has enough stretch in the fabric for you to get it on."

Aidan grits his teeth, faced flushed, choking back an angry retort.

"Or you say the magic words. You win, I lose. Up to you, you know the rules."

Aidan stares at his wife, his discomfort plainly visible. She knows that he's cornered but she doesn't care. She remembers the crotchless panties, the way he would have quite happily dressed her up like a hooker. A part of her, deep down, a part that's still brooding on the minus sign in the bathroom bin, wants to see him squirm. His face betrays the war going on inside him. She knows he won't be able to back down, to be the one that loses the bet: he's too proud for that. The alpha male has been backed into a corner.

"Fine," Aidan hisses at last.

"One thing," Rosa interrupts, "If I'm letting you out of wearing the dress to dinner, then I get to dress you and get you ready before we go out."

"Hold on," Aidan says, eyes narrowing. "I'm playing along with this, but no make-up. No nail polish. They aren't laid out on the bed."

"Sweetie, as if I would," Rosa replies, mockingly. "You can sit at the table with your little secret safe, I promise, just so long as you let me get you ready."

"I don't trust you."

Rosa shrugs, indifferent. "Or you can wear the dress to dinner too. Them's the rules. We got a deal?"

"Fine. Ok. Whatever," Aidan grunts, "Deal. But I book the restaurant."

Rosa kisses him warmly, and says, "Of course. You pick."

---

Aidan's mood darkens throughout the day. His wife seems to be keeping her distance, though they were both busy with classes. She doesn't even hassle him about the Strength class, as he takes the usual group of women through their paces. Rosa always refers to it as Milf Training, and that he's the star attraction.

"I should have picked your outfit out for this one as well," she comments in passing.

"Jesus, Rosa."

"I bet if I got you some real tight shorts we'd double the size of the class."

They are standing behind the desk at reception. Rosa's hand reaches down to cup Aidan's balls through his shorts and she runs her thumb gently over the head of his cock, stroking it through the fabric. Aidan feels himself react, stiffening.

"Just like that. Package on full display. I reckon they'd pay extra."

Aidan breaks free from his wife's hand and almost jogs across the floor to the fitness studio. He can feel the weight between his legs jiggling as he enters a room with half a dozen women already sitting on their yoga mats.

"Sorry I'm late. Got held up."

He's conscious that he's standing by the door, close to a petite blonde woman in tight lilac activewear kneeling on her mat with her face at the same level as his crotch. Her name is Cassidy, and he can feel her eyes on him. For some reason, it doesn't help the swelling subside. Aidan moves hurriedly to his own mat.

They begin the programme with a set of stretching exercises, but Aidan's mind is elsewhere, thinking about what Rosa has planned for him. There was an ambiguity, and he can't help but feel that he's left himself wide open for more trouble. But, having secured the promise of no outwardly visible signs, he can't seem to see whatever else she might have planned for him. It just leaves him with a disquieted feeling, knowing that Rosa was a step ahead and she had something planned. The lack of the usual light banter throughout the day between them was also a warning sign. He was missing something, but he can't work out what it was.

He looks across the class and catches Cassidy's eye. She smiles.

---

"Shower first," Rosa states.

Aidan drags his heels as he follows Rosa to the bathroom, but he doesn't complain. There is a nervous energy about his wife tonight, and he can't decide if it's sexy or ominous.

In the bathroom, she strips off her work clothes and he does the same. They seem to spend their entire lives in activewear, but he is always taken aback by her figure when she's fully naked. The sports bras and tight pants don't need to do as much work for her as for the Milfs; Rosa has a perfect body, honed by years of hard work, a brand statement.

Rosa pulls Aidan into the shower, tying her long dark hair up into a tight bun to keep it out of the spray, then she holds him close and allows her breasts to brush against his chest. He can feel the blood rushing into his cock as she turns on the water. Rosa's hand swats his thickening member playfully.

"Plenty of time for that later. Wash me."

Aidan does as Rosa asks, lathering her trim, toned body with shower gel until she is frictionless and soapy. His hands run over her breasts and he can feel her nipples harden to his touch.

"All of me."

Rosa turns imperiously, clearly in charge, to present her back to him. Aidan applies more shower gel, soaping her back, running his hands down her spine to her buttocks, slipping fingers into the cleft to clean between her cheeks. His fingertip brushes the puckered star of her rear opening and he feels himself come fully erect. Rosa reaches behind, grasping the head of his cock firmly. Her hand slides slowly down his shaft.

"Now, shall I do you?"

Rosa doesn't wait for an answer. She begins to soap up her husband, and he stands in the shower, letting her do what she wants to him. These are the agreed terms of the deal, anything to get out of wearing the dress. Her hands seek out his armpits, wrap around his neck, wash his chest. He feels her fingers exploring him, over his tightly-muscles buttocks, his thighs, his rippling abdomen. She takes her time to lather up every inch of him, kneeling now in the shower to soap up his well-defined legs. His cock points directly out at her eye level, but she doesn't touch it. Instead, he feels one of her hands slide up between his legs and gently manipulate his balls. He is rigid now, the head of his cock swollen and purple, adding its own lubrication to the shower gel.

"I love a hard body," Rosa breathes.

Aidan looks down at his wife, the strangeness of the day long forgotten. All he can think about now is her perfect, soft lips wrapping around the tip of his member. He can anticipate the delicious feeling of her mouth slipping down his length.

Instead, he feels a hard object against his upper thigh.

"What?"

"We need to have you looking your best."

She traces a path down his leg in one slow stroke leaving behind clean skin, a bare furrow in the dark hairs of his leg. Her hand comes back up to his crotch and he feels her press against him again, running the head of a razor down his leg.

"This wasn't part of the deal," Aidan stammers, mind reeling at the deviation from the expected.

"I gave you a break on the dress. This is what you traded it for. Besides, who wants to see hairs poking out all over the place?"

As she talks, Rosa repeats the process, shaving more and more of his leg. Aidan relents and allows himself to be shaved, feeling his hard-on subside as he realises that this was what Rosa had been building up to. Without asking his permission, she rubs more gel into his pubic hair and begins to work on his crotch area.

"Hey! Wait!"

Rosa pauses, razor poised.

"You want to go back to the full terms of the bet?"

Reluctantly, Aidan shakes his head and when the razor touches his crotch he doesn't protest; instead he watches her face, seeing how intently she's concentrating as she holds his cock to one side so she can shave his balls. She is delicate, taking care not to nick him with the razor and he feels her stretching and pulling his skin to get into every nook. She lathers him up again and begins to shave the patch of dark curly hair above his root.

When she's finished, Rosa smooths her hands over his legs, rinsing away the soap. She kisses his semi-rigid member and stands up.

"There, what do you think?" Rosa asks.

Aidan looks down his body, feeling conspicuously bare.

"I don't know what to think."

Rosa ruffles a hand through his wet hair.

"You don't need to think. I won the bet, remember. Tonight, you're all mine."

There is a look in her eye that Aidan finds disconcerting. She turns off the water and hands Aidan a towel, wrapping another around herself.

"You like me bare down there, don't you?" Rosa says over her shoulder, "I just wondered what you'd look like. Dry off and then come and see me in the bedroom."

It takes Aidan a while before he is ready to follow his wife. He can see himself full-frontal in the mirror, his manhood hairless for the first time. It was what Rosa had wanted, for both of them to be hairless, as if this evened things up somehow, but he's still shocked by his wife's uncharacteristic, dominant behaviour. Bound by the bet, he worries that he doesn't know what else she had lined up.

"Baby, are you ready?" Rosa calls out from the other room.

"Coming," Aidan replies and replaces the towel on the drying rack. He's completely naked, feeling more so than at any other time in their marriage, as he walks into the bedroom.

Rosa is already dressed, and Aidan realises how long he's been standing in the bathroom, staring at himself. She has on a demure, white dress that stops above her knees, showing off her sculpted calves. The v-shaped neckline shows off the soft mounds of her cleavage and he can feel himself stirring again.

"Come sit down," she says, patting the bed.

"No make-up, none of that shit."

Rosa smiles. "None of that. Just sit."

Aidan flops down onto the bed and watches as Rosa holds up the stockings.

"And I get to choose what I wear over the top?"

"You get to wear whatever you like to dinner, but this underneath. Bet's a bet."

"Okay," he relents.

Rosa kneels by the bed, between his legs. He can feel her tugging at one of his feet, feels smooth material slipping over his skin, a delicate, light closeness of sheer fabric being rolled and tugged up his leg. Rosa pulls the stocking up over his knee, tugging until it's in place with the dark band of the stocking top sitting around his upper thigh. She runs a hand down the sheer black material and he can feel the odd sensation of almost-skin-on-skin contact. Neither of them says anything as Rosa repeats the process with the other stocking, smoothing it into place.

"See how much better you look without the hair," Rosa says, her eyes still on his legs, "Some women would kill for legs like these."

Aidan watches his wife's face carefully as she strokes the fabric surrounding his thighs. Her cheeks are flushed, and he realises that this is turning her on. For some reason, this reassures him and Aidan feels some of his confidence returning.

"You like legs in stockings, babe?" he asks, "You're not going over to women are you?"

As if to answer, Rosa's hands slide up between Aidan's legs, over the newly shaven skin, to wrap around the base of his cock.

"Maybe, but the problem is I would need this too. I'm not sure I could do without it."

The feeling of his wife's delicate fingers curled intimately around him brings Aidan's cock back to life and he feels himself swelling in her grasp, back in familiar territory.

"Oh no," Rosa gasps, withdrawing her hands hurriedly, "That's not helping at all. Come on, stand up."

"If you want."

Aidan stands patiently as his wife slides the garter belt around his waist. Something about seeing his wife getting horny dressing him up begins to dissipate the discomfort of being put into lingerie. Knowing that he's making her hot gives him back a feeling of being in control again in a situation that is very much beyond his control. He doesn't protest as she clips the stockings carefully to the belt, or when she stands behind him to wrap his torso in the bustier.