Preparation

When the weekend rolled around, we were both happy to be off work. Saturday morning started out a bit lazy as we enjoyed NOT setting an alarm clock. Even though I was retired -- for all intents and purposes -- I still set an alarm clock each weekday and got up to stay active. On Saturdays and Sundays, we tended to not set the alarm clock. It allowed us the ability to wake up slowly, snuggle, and enjoy each other being close. When the kids were younger, we'd always had to sleep in pajamas in case we had to get up for a child-related emergency in the middle of the night. Since we now had only one left at home and she was quickly approaching legal adulthood, we'd taken to sleeping naked to offer ourselves more opportunities for intimacy.

Wake up slowly is exactly what we did. I don't know what time it was when Dana rolled over, threw a leg over me, draped an arm over me and nuzzled her nose against my neck. She didn't say a word, but I swear if she could have purred she would. A few minutes later I felt her hand trail down my chest, across my abdomen and down to my now hardening manhood. She nuzzled a bit more with her nose as her hand began to stroke and pull my length, helping me to full erection pretty quickly.

"Okay," I whispered with a smile, "now that you've got me in a useful condition, what are you going to do with it?"

Without saying a word, she moved to straddle me, her sex spread on the shaft of my cock. She began to work her hips back and forth a bit and I realized she wasn't just wet; she was drenched. Later I'd have to ask her what she'd been dreaming or thinking about but for now I just enjoyed it as she hunched her hips back and forth a few times before leaning forward, cocking her hips just right and then sliding back to impale herself on my hardness. I've never had sloppy seconds, but this was how I imagined it would feel if I did. Her pussy was so open; so welcoming; SO wet and hot. When she forced herself down onto my length and our pelvic bones mashed together, my cock filling her sex forced more juices out of her and I could feel those juices running down across my balls.

Dana ground down and around on me for a few moments, making sure she had everything I could offer and then she began riding me. Her hands were on my chest as she held herself up, her hips moving in a rotation of up and down combined with back and forth. In just a minute or so, as I lay moaning beneath her, her breathing changed, and a low moan began to come from somewhere in her chest. Her pace of movement increased and it was then that I realized my wife wasn't riding me for my pleasure. She wasn't even riding me for our mutual pleasure. Dana was using my cock to pleasure her pussy, moving to attain her own orgasm as quickly as she could... and she did.

The low moan became a guttural yell as her orgasm flooded through her. I watched as her head fell back and her back arched, forcing her chest forward. The skin across her chest flushed a crimson red that traveled down her body until I could see it. Her thighs clamped against my hips, squeezing together as her hip movements became much smaller and jerky, the net effect being that she was grinding her clit in small motions against my pubis. Her breathing was ragged and uneven until her orgasm had peaked and started to ease off. Her motions began to slow and the tightness in the muscles of her lower body began to relax.

I pulled my gorgeous and sexy wife down against me so that she was laying on my chest, my cock still swimming in her wetness and her breathing still heavy as she recovered from her orgasm. Having been used I decided to return the favor. I grabbed her hips and held them up just enough that I could thrust in and out of her. I was neither gentle nor slow as I hammered my cock up into her pussy, back and forth as fast as I could manage, our pelvises once again slamming together as hard as I could force them in that position. Her moans began to gain strength again and I felt her hands grab my shoulders as she held on for the ride.

It took me a few minutes to get there, and she moaned the whole time. Finally, when my orgasm took me, I pushed her hips down onto my length while forcing my length up into her, my hands holding her hips down tight as my manhood pulsed, spewing my hot cum into her depths. Normally I can feel her sex get wetter when I cum inside her; my juices adding to hers. Not so this time. She was already so wet that I couldn't even tell if I'd actually released any jism, but her pussy did feel a little hotter and slicker around me.

Then I relaxed, letting her body settle against mine, our combined mess slowly flowing out of her, onto my balls and inner thighs, down across my butt and onto the sheets. I guessed we'd be doing laundry later. When she felt recovered enough to move, Dana sat up, the motion squeezing more out of her sex, and looked down at me. "Good morning, lover," she said with a smile.

"Good morning, wife," I said with a smile of my own.

"See you in the shower," she said and then climbed off me.

"Momentarily," I replied, and then, as she was swinging her near perfect ass toward our bathroom I added, "and you might get more in there."

I saw her give an extra twitch to her hips as she giggled and went into the bathroom.

- - - - - - - - - -

As we drove toward the mall where we'd shop for her gown, I had to ask her what she'd been dreaming about that had gotten her so wound up this morning?

Her first reply was, "I'd rather not tell you." When I pointed out our agreement of total honesty and how part of being honest was not holding anything back, she took a big breath before answering. But her answer started with a question...

"Do you remember me telling you about the other side of me? Do you remember me telling you about 'that girl'?" Her voice was quiet. It was almost as if she was ashamed to be talking about this... whatever this was. I knew what she was talking about but didn't know where it was going.

"Yes," I replied, not quite as softly as she was talking, but soft enough for her to know I understood this was a delicate subject.

"Do you remember me telling you that I had mixed emotions about being 'that girl'?"

"Yes," I replied in the same tone. I still didn't know where she was going but felt the need to bolster her confidence in whatever it was. I added some strength to my voice and added some thoughts before she could ask or say anything else. "I remember you telling me about 'that girl' and as I told you then; I appreciate your trust. I know it wasn't easy for you to admit to me being like that. I know you carry some shame with you in relation to that behavior... although I still don't think you should. Society gives us too many labels and every one of them comes with an implied judgment." I paused for a moment and looked at her, watching her think about what I was saying. "I ALSO remember you being 'that girl'... almost... with me a couple of times after you'd had a few drinks. My belief... my feeling... my impression is 'that girl' still lives inside of you and that you keep her caged; trapped; restrained... when what you really want and need is to let her out sometimes..."

I let that thought trail away. I was thinking about 'that girl' and my wife. You have to understand: my wife is a very intelligent and responsible woman. She carries the weight of motherhood like a sacred chalice never to be dropped, spilled or allowed to be tarnished. She carried the weight of our marriage the same way. She was almost constantly aware of appearances, values, traditional beliefs, what people saw, what people thought and more. It was one of the differences between us. I didn't much care what people thought. Sure, if it was someone I cared about and knew that they cared about me, I considered their opinion of value and I wouldn't want to do something that would make them ashamed of me. Most of those people in my life would accept my behavior without judgment though, and if they did judge me, they'd do it silently and it wouldn't reduce the level of care they had for me.

I knew what was stirring in Dana's mind. 'That girl' was a completely different woman from my mostly conservative wife and mother of our children. 'That girl' had shown herself when Dana had been in her last year of high school and during her college years every now and then. 'That girl' was the one that she always felt would get her in trouble because 'that girl' focused more on the pleasures of all types of sex rather than anything remotely responsible or cautious. 'That girl' sometimes was revealed when my wife had a few too many drinks and got horny. It was always behind closed doors, and I truly enjoyed the sexual animal she could become in those times. 'That girl' didn't have any rules or restrictions; she just wanted to give and take pleasure in any and every way and was hungry for it beyond measure. 'That girl' was the one every guy wanted in their bed, but few wanted to marry for fear that they couldn't keep her satisfied enough to stay faithful.

Dana took another deep breath beside me before she said anything else; getting her courage up I guess. "You're right, baby," she said in that same soft voice. "That other me... 'that girl' is fully alive and carefully caged. I remember those days of being her with shame... but it's shame mixed with a hunger. I can't describe how much I enjoyed being her; feeling so free; focusing just on the excited nervous energy of unrestrained pleasure mixed with the fear of what I was doing; who I was being; who I was commanded or forced to be. I enjoyed being 'that girl' more than I can describe and I'm ashamed that I was her; I'm ashamed that I enjoy the memories."

I sensed a "but" and prompted her accordingly. "But...?"

She took another deep breath, sighed it out and then finished her thought in a stronger voice. "Last night in my dreams I was 'that girl' all over again. It was entirely erotic and out of control and I did everything I ever wanted to do; everything I ever enjoyed doing; everything that was asked or demanded of me; everything that I even vaguely thought might be a turn on. I was simply a sexual being with a body to be pleasured and used until exhaustion took me. And in my dreams my body was taken, pleasured, used... played like a fine instrument until I woke up throbbing and wet with desire." She'd grown quiet near the end of her confession. The enjoyment she'd gotten from the dream was obvious. Equally obvious was the shame she felt at remembering the dream with enjoyment. I knew I needed to lighten the moment, but I also needed an answer to one more question. I thought I might know the answer but had to ask anyway.

"So... in your dream... did I manage to pleasure and use you as 'that girl' in all the ways you desired?"

Dana turned to me and smiled. I think she knew I was baiting her and that I knew the honest answer. I also think she realized that hearing the truth was going to turn me on. "Honey, I love you," she said. "Completely and without reserve. You know that." It was a statement and a question, and I nodded my answer to confirm that yes, I knew that. She continued. "But it wasn't you in my dreams. It was Jonathan." I smiled and nodded at that answer as well. She continued and what she said truly surprised me but also made my cock swell with excitement. "But it wasn't JUST Jonathan," she said, now getting a bit quieter again. "It was anyone he invited along; it was anyone and everyone he chose to give me to; he made me his property... his plaything... and he ordered me to perform and accept use however HE wanted." Her voice grew even quieter still before she finished. "And I loved every minute of it."

THIS was a side I had never seen of my wife before. Through our years of marriage, of making love and sex play, I had come to realize that she had a slightly submissive side to her. I never realized just how deep that tendency ran or how much she really enjoyed it. The realization bordered on shock but that was mixed with two other realities: first, my manhood was seeping so much precum into my underwear that I could feel the swollen head smearing it around; and second, I suddenly understood why my wife was so hesitant and fearful of embracing the idea of playing outside our marriage. She was reluctant to let down the level of control she'd been maintaining. She was afraid that if she lowered her control just a little, she'd LOSE control and the cage would collapse. She was afraid of becoming 'that girl' with another man. She was afraid of letting the sexual animal out. I wondered if she was afraid of how I'd judge her for that if she did.

We were getting close to the mall, and I knew she'd be uncomfortable continuing this conversation where anyone -- even strangers -- might overhear it. There was a little bit more I wanted to discuss on this topic though and I was trying to quickly figure out a way to encompass all that needed to be discussed in the few minutes left to us.

I made sure my voice was strong and even when I spoke. I wanted surety and confidence to come across in my statements and questions. "Honey," I said, "do you understand that I love you and always will no matter what?" I glanced over at her and saw her nod. "Do you also understand that as your husband I view it as part of my... I don't know," I said as I searched for the right word before continuing with, "duties to support you in all of your needs and desires?" She nodded, but I wasn't sure she understood exactly what I meant. I wasn't sure I had articulated it clearly enough. "I mean... do you understand that no matter how kinky or dirty or naughty you want things... no matter what sexual activity, pleasure or use you crave, I view it as part of my job as your husband and lover to make sure those needs are fulfilled?"

She thought about that and then finally said, "Yes. I understand all that. That doesn't reduce the shame I feel in my cravings... in my desire to be 'that girl'. I barely let her out with my first boyfriend or my ex. I WANT to let her out with you... but it scares me. If I let her out with you, can I recage her? If I let her out with Jonathan..." She paused and breathed and then found the strength to continue. "If I let 'that girl' out with Jonathan and YOU can live with it afterward; still love me afterward; still want me afterward... then I can't think of any reason why I'd ever want to recage her again."

I laughed for a moment, and she got a confused look on her face. "I'm sorry," I said and explained. "I just think it's funny that we keep talking about 'that girl' as if you're a different person when you embrace your sexual needs and desires. Baby, YOU are 'that girl'." That's YOUR sexual animal and I think it's wrong for YOU to keep that part of YOU caged up or so carefully controlled." I chuckled again. "My god, but do you realize just how much I'd thoroughly enjoy having you completely let go and be that wild and wanton with me?"

She smiled at that thought. "I've gotten close a few times," she said through the grin. "You discovered that getting a few drinks in me loosens the cage. That's why you ply me with alcohol sometimes."

At that I finally just let go of careful articulation and went straight at it. "Listen, baby... please, listen and understand every word of this." She nodded and I glanced over to see her totally focused on me. I continued. "This doubt... this shame... this fear you carry around about just being yourself sexually; of letting go to your desires and needs... it's not healthy. Sure, I know society might say you're being a 'good girl' and a 'good wife' by denying yourself anything that others might think is kinky, but..." I let go of control and filtering completely. "...but FUCK others. You're MY wife and I'M not ashamed of you in any way. You turn me on without even trying and just the idea of you letting out your wilder side turns me on even more. Stop punishing yourself. Stop stressing yourself. Understand that I love you unconditionally and completely. I want you to do whatever you want or need to do to be happy. We've already discussed the only requirement we have: complete honesty; nothing held back. Nothing hidden."

I felt like I'd orgasmed - my statement gushing out like a climax. I felt like I'd just splattered her face with my hot words, but it was in those first moments afterward that I wasn't sure if she'd appreciate it, like it, or get mad at me for it. I held my breath as I waited for her response.

She looked away from me and I could hear her breathing as I found a parking spot. I pulled in, put the car in park and left the motor running. I wanted to hear her response before I turned it off and we got out to go shop. She took several deep breaths and exhaled them slowly. It sounded like she was trying to calm herself down... or build herself up. I wasn't sure which.

Finally, she said, "Okay." And then she paused before continuing. "Okay. I want you to know that I love you and I understand everything you just said. I want you to know that I appreciate your concern and I know how much you care about me." She paused to breathe again. "But... I need you to be clear about this. I need to know that YOU know exactly what we're talking about; about what it might mean. I need you to know that even talking about it scares hell out of me while turning me on beyond measure both at the same time."

"I think I underst..." I started to say, but she interrupted me.

"No," she said strongly. "There can be no 'think you understand.' You have to totally understand and know precisely what it is you're agreeing to and what might happen." She looked at me to make sure I was looking at her and paying full attention before she continued. "When I was dancing with Jonathan, 'that girl'... that part of me was SCREAMING to be released. I still don't know what it was about him, but my body was on fire; my brain was a hazy mess of lust and need. I wanted nothing more than for him to take me and use me however he wanted, and I didn't want him to stop until HE was satiated. I wanted to become that sexual animal you keep talking about and..." she paused for just a second to breathe, looking away and then back at me, looking me in the eye in spite of the shame that showed on her face and finishing in a strong voice, "... and as 'that girl' I would have done ANYTHING he said he wanted, asked for or commanded me to do as long as he kept using me and pleasuring me until he was tired of me; done with me; and ready to set me aside like a worn out toy."

She paused and took another several breaths. I wasn't sure if I should say anything yet, so I held my tongue. It was difficult. She had me so turned on I think I would have cum if she just BLEW warm air across my erection. Making sure she was looking me in the eyes again, she issued her final statement. "THAT is what you're risking. THAT is what we're talking about. The idea of me with another man might turn you on, but can you handle the idea of your wife becoming another man's sexual plaything until HE'S done with her? Can you handle the idea of my turning control over to him so completely and so eagerly that he could invite ANYONE else he wanted to use me however HE ordered me to be used and I'd do it without hesitation? Can you truly handle the idea of me letting out my sexual animal? Can you fully understand that if I cross that line and become 'that girl' then I'm going to do it without looking back; without hesitation; and I'm going to STAY 'that girl' until he's done with me no matter what the clock says? Can you understand that? Can you accept that? Could you live with that?"

Yep. I was so hard that my cock moved with every beat of my heart and the slick inside of my underwear was caressing my manhood with every motion. That alone had me on the brink of orgasm. I couldn't find my voice, but I nodded my head in understanding. That wasn't enough for her.