An Unnown Desire

'This is difficult', I said to myself as I strolled across the room wearing the flimsy baby doll that Mark had bought for me to wear. It was a light red color, the fabric just a wispy cloth that was not translucent but transparent, a single button between my breasts holding it together. Nothing was hidden from view, not my breasts, not my butt, and not my pubic hair.

I stood in front of the full length mirror and I was unable to recognize the image I found staring back at me. The reflection was of a sultry and needy woman, of a true slut that could be taken by any man who found her like this. I was completely exposed and expected to act as if this was normal. But it could not be any further from normal from how I ordinarily dressed.

I am a District Attorney and had learned to dress as a District Attorney. I had more pantsuits than dresses in my closet and the shirts I owned were all very thick and left everything to the imagination. Conservative clothing was an understatement for my common everyday costume. Looking at my reflection in the mirror now, I realized how it must appear to my husband with me dressed as I was day in and day out. It was amazing to me that he had succumbed to this mediocrity for the past ten years.

But we had embarked on fulfilling my husbands fantasy of having a submissive and sexually uninhibited mate, one who would gladly make herself available to his every whim, a woman who would bow to his wishes and give her body freely to his demands. And I had agreed and actually bragged that his fantasies could not possibly be out of the realm of my abilities when he confessed his wishes to me.

Now I was stuck. Yes, I had a way out, one that Mark had given me when this journey began, but then I would have to admit defeat. And defeat was a worse condition than being exposed for the day in this hard-on-provoking outfit that Mark had bought for me to wear around the house. I would see this adventure through to the end. And to be perfectly honest, I was enjoying the public exposure I had so far been exposed to. It had excited me to be seen by others, naked and in the throes of passion. I warmed to the idea of being used as an object by my husband, to be used for his sexual fulfillment with no thought of my own satisfaction, to show the people who might be aware that I was capable of satisfying the demands of our relationship. Yes, I could do this and I would thrive in the role of submissive bitch slut for Mark.

I entered the living room where Mark was sitting reading the morning paper, sitting in his chair that we had designated his 'throne'. I strode to the sofa directly across from him and sat to wait for an acknowledgement that I was there.

"Open your legs for me." he ordered as he folded the paper and began to gaze at me. I complied, spreading my knees about shoulder width apart.

I laid back on the sofa and began to languish in my own fantasy as his eyes scrutinized my body. I closed my eyes and began to think sexual thoughts. I looked back on last evening and immediately thought of 'Jane', the woman who had spoke to us from the computer as I was satisfied by and then used by Mark. I tried to imagine what she looked like, who she was, and what she did while she watched us. I knew that she masturbated, she had told us that. She had said she used her own fingers, that she had rubbed herself to orgasm as she watched us in the throes of our passion.

"What are you thinking about?" Mark suddenly inquired. "Tell me, what are you thinking about?"

I wasn't sure if I should tell him the truth or just use the excuse of being bored. "I was thinking about Jane, the girl on the computer, about how she spoke to us last night and about how she had sent us that email." I had answered him honestly and when I looked up the sly smile on his face told me he liked the way my thoughts were going.

"Tell me, would you like to meet her, to maybe have her join you?"

Oh, God, where was this going? But I guess it was a relevant question seeing that I was actually thinking about her. "I'm not sure" I answered honestly as I could not really tell if I wanted another woman or not. The social stigma that was attached to such a relationship was still strongly negative but the lack of inhibition I had experienced last evening would welcome a woman with me. How messed up could this be?

"Close your eyes and tell me what you would do to her or what you would have her do to you?"

I could feel my embarrassment begin to creep up from my breasts and neck to my cheeks as I again closed my eyes and began to share my thoughts. "I would like her to watch us, to sit with us and to watch what we do in private. She would be an observer and a critic of our lovemaking; at first anyway. She would tell you how to touch me, how to excite me and how to stroke my body." This was so weird, so far from normal for us. We had never discussed anyone else joining us in the ten years we had been together, never even fantasized about others as far as I knew. "She would know what I like, how I like your fingers stroking the sides of my breasts and running through my pubic hair. She could sit between my legs and see me reacting to your touch, much as she did from the webcam last night." Ah, yes, the webcam. The webcam was liberating, allowing so many eyes to see me, to excite me with their comments while remaining just a voice from the computer. Thirty people had seen me in one night as only a handful had seen me in my entire life! The idea of letting people see what I did in private was so exhilarating to me, it made me mad with desire to repeat the show and let another thirty people watch, not just Jane but others as well. And speaking of Jane...

"She's sitting naked, cross legged between my knees. She can see my sex, my pussy and she can smell me, she knows from the aroma that I am aroused." Oh, how this was turning me on, I began to squirm on the couch as all these thoughts ran through my head, the idea of Jane joining us and the webcam allowing so many others into our bedroom. "I see her touching herself while you continue to stroke my body with your hands. She touches her breasts, stroking and then pulling on her own nipples and you do the same thing to me. You watch her too, you see her fingers playing between her legs, her thighs spread wide for access." What was weird was that I imagined that I was again bound, as I had been last night, spread out unwillingly and open to both my torturer and the observer, but I did not let Mark in on this tidbit. "I long for her to stop touching herself and to move her hands to that place between my legs, to my two holes." Yes, she knew that I enjoyed anal play, she had witnessed it the evening before and had encouraged Mark to push his finger into my tight sphincter, it had been her that suggested I be impaled on the hard phallus that Mark had bought for us to play with. "I feel her fingers..."

"Stop".

I heard him but was confused. I opened my eyes and saw that Mark was glaring into me, between my legs at the juice that had already begun to leak from me. Yes, I could feel it as well, a cool spot on my otherwise heated sex. The natural cooling caused by evaporation resulted in an extreme difference between the wet area and the hot dry area surrounding my vaginal lips.

"Your lips are opened! You are so excited that your pussy is opening up in anticipation of something entering you!" He said this as if he was amazed. Actually, it was me that was amazed, I never thought that I could arouse myself so completely just using my mind and mental images and thoughts.

I moved one arm from over my head and reached between my legs and, for the first time ever, touched my slit while Mark looked on. I gently touched the spot between my butt hole and my vagina and drew my finger upward, collecting the moisture that had accumulated. My body shuddered involuntarily as I drug the long nail over my hard clit. I brought my finger up to look at it and was amazed at the amount of liquid that I was able to scoop up with my fingertip. Then I moved my fingertip to my lips and cautiously stuck out my tongue to taste the nectar of my quim. The tangy taste was surprisingly enjoyable and made me think 'maybe I would like to taste another woman'.

"Do you want to send Jane an email and ask her to come visit? Maybe you'd like to taste her and have her taste you?"

Now we were moving fast, moving from fantasy to reality, or at least proposing moving in that direction. How did he know that my thoughts were about the taste of another woman? I know that my eyes widened in surprise at the question. Is that what I wanted to do? Would I really let another woman join me, watch me, share my husband with her? Could I accept that? Oh, my, where were we going? "I'm not sure I'm ready for that baby."

"You think about it," he said as he stood and started removing his clothes, "meanwhile I need some relief and you appear to be ready for me."

He towered over me, reached out and grabbed my hips and flipped me over roughly, leaving me on my hands and knees, my ass pointing at him. I felt him roughly pull my knees apart and grab my sex in his hand, he lifted me into the position he wanted me with his strong arms. The heat of his cock approached my hole, with no foreplay or warning it was suddenly shoved forcefully into me, stretching the resilient skin of my sex wide. But I was ready, my natural lube abundant, allowing him to fully envelope his cock in my willing sheath with his first lunge. I could feel his need in the hardness of his shaft, in the manner of his approach, and in his uncompromising control of my position. This was not lovemaking, this was not gentle sex between a man and his wife, this was just pure lust that he was expending on me.

I pushed my ass back into Marks' hips in a willful display of sexual desire and acceptance of my treatment, in a need for him to begin moving in and out of me. I wanted to be filled by him, to feel him deep inside me, I wanted him to shoot me full of his hot white juice. We both began to grunt and groan as he moved in and out of my slick hole. His movements were not slow or gentle, instead he was rough and fast, his hands on my hips, holding me in a position that made me useful to his desires. He was not thinking of my comfort, and the veiled pain of his thrusts and his hands digging into my hips were stimulating me like I never knew before this day.

Oh, if people could see me now, if there were thirty or forty or even fifty sets of eyes watching me, if only Jane were here to see me taken like the animal that I felt I was becoming. I was wishing for others, needing others to see me receive the abuse I so desired.

I threw my head back and encouraged him. "Yes, baby, use me, use me however you want, pound me baby, grab me hard, make me do everything you need, I want you, fuck me hard, yes baby, fuck me hard and fast."

He now comprehended that he could do to me as he wished and he wasted no time turning me into the receptor of his need, my willingness to be subjected to his rapture understood. I felt a thumb on my asshole, prying my backside open roughly and exploring, then returning to my hip to continue his pummeling. I couldn't move out of his grip, his fingers digging deep into my flesh, sweat beginning to form on my backside and my chest, my forehead already damp from the exertion of his will. I closed my eyes to enjoy the newfound freedom of giving myself to him fully. My mind reeled, the thought of being a sex toy to my lover overwhelming me, filling me with pride and joy knowing that I was no more than his plaything, my body no more than his playground. His cock was going so deep that I could feel it penetrating to my ovaries before pulling out and slamming me again and again. I felt and heard the thin material of the baby doll being ripped from my shoulders, I saw it float to the floor in front of the couch. My body no longer protected at all, my tits were banging around unrestrained beneath me with each thrust made by Mark, the nipples rubbing against the rough fabric of the cushion further enhancing my excitement.

The force of our coupling became too much, I could no longer balance on my arms, I couldn't take the pulling on my tits as they swung from side to side and crashed against each other in the center of my chest. I lowered my head to the seat cushion my ass rising like a gift to him. I wished that Jane, or any woman, was here right now so I could bury my face between their legs and lick the nectar from their slit. I closed my eyes and imagined my mouth clamped to a cunt, my tongue circling a hard clit, an audience calling out encouragement for Mark to fuck me hard, to slap my ass.

Then I could feel his cock swell and I knew that I was about to get my reward. Mark pulled me violently back onto him, lifting my upper body from the couch, and his sperm erupted once, then he threw me forward and jerked me back again, my head bouncing into the cushion to be immediately yanked back up, jamming me onto his hard on and coating my insides with his cum. I endured his manipulation of my entire body five or six times, the pain of our unification shooting into my stomach as he reached into me deeper than he had ever reached before, smashing into my backside with each stab, his fingers gouging my skin on each hip and pulling my ass cheeks wide apart, all so he could shoot deeper with each spasm. I could feel the tears on my cheeks but they were not tears from the pain but from the pure joy of satisfying his needs.

He pulled himself out of my pussy and grabbed me by the hair, pulled my face around and commanded me to clean him off. I eagerly opened my mouth and licked his engorged shaft, sucking up the slick coating with my lips, his cock rubbing against my face as he tried to put my mouth where he wanted it. I licked his balls and discovered a large puddle of our excretion that dribbled from my tongue to my chin and dripped to the couch. My face was now coated with the slimy juices of our passion. My mouth opened and I engulfed his shaft as far as I could, feeling the soft head touch the back of my throat on the first gulp, then sliding up and down, coating my lips and taking more and more of him into me until I could feel his sweaty sack against my chin. His fingers wrapped in my hair on either side of my head and he held me impaled on his hardness. I had him all inside my mouth and throat and his hands controlled me there as I tried to swallow and reveled in the musty taste of our mixed sexual secretions. I could feel him slowly softening and slipping from the furthest depths of my throat. My tongue continued to lap his cock as he relaxed his grip on my hair and release me from his restraint.

When he was nothing more than a mouthful for me, he backed away and returned to his chair, only two or three minutes since he first thrust himself between my legs. "You like the rough stuff, huh?" he asked.

I sat back on the couch calmly, sweat running between my tits, pointed my legs in his direction and sultrily spread my knees for his pleasure. I could feel the cum drying on my face and lips, my crotch a bit tender from the exploitation it had just endured, my hips sore from being held in his clamp-like hands. I am sure that I was the picture of whoredom for him; a slut, a ten dollar prostitute. "I like you using my body as you want to, being able to satisfy your need to use me." I said it out loud and could not believe I had been so lewd! Oh my, now what was Mark going to think about his prim and proper wife, the District Attorney who was sitting spread out before him, her sex on display, and her willingness to submit to his wishes so eloquently and directly expressed?

"We have all day Saturday and Sunday to keep playing, and I take it that you want to keep going, right?"

To answer him I reached between my legs where he could clearly see and I pulled my tender cunt open for him, my lack of inhibition proven as I exposed myself completely. I could feel his jism gushing from deep within me and forming a puddle between the cheeks of my ass on the sofa cushion. I think he took that as a yes.