My Husband's Fantasies

Moving to the Lancashire coast was a decision based on the health benefits, a tourist lifestyle and the great coastal panoramas. It was a return to my schoolgirl roots and being close to my ageing parents meant I could support them more easily if their health deteriorated. My husband had recently taken early retirement and was happy to move too to get a better environment for us both. As he was ten years older I was still working and not that jealous of his free time, much!

At fifty, PJ is still looking pretty good. Six feet two with a bit of a dad bod now he reminds me of 'Big' from 'Sex and the City'. We married later in life I suppose and too late for children. This has meant financial comfort and stability and the accompanying freedom.

The move also meant I could see a few old school friends and catch up with people I hadn't seen regularly for over fifteen years. In particular, my best friend from school, Sherry, lives two streets away and we pretty much picked up where we left off. We had always had that type of relationship, close, comfortable and no secrets. Whilst I'm brunette, five feet seven and would describe myself as attractive, Sherry is fair, shorter and also pretty. She's been married to Gareth for much longer. We both have the hourglass figures and, whilst I won't list statistics, could share size 12 clothes.

What I hadn't contended with was husband's increased libido. Maybe it was the sea air or maybe just that he had so much time on his hands but he was like a new man. He spent most of the day naked around the house and in our mostly secluded garden and delighted in trying to distract me from my work.

As a senior manager in a huge public organisation, my day largely consisted of meetings or calls with other managers but, thanks to a global pandemic, this was almost exclusively done from home. Fortunately, he respected the field of view of my laptop's camera and avoided becoming a viral internet sensation as a naked backdrop in a management meeting.

Hubby developed certain preferences. He was a fan of sharing his fantasies and I enjoyed listening. His list was quite specific but quite extensive. Fortunately, these remained, for the large part, as just that, fantasies. Additionally, there was nothing too extreme so nothing that I found a massive turn off. It helped (when I'd had a long day or, during the day, had limited time and meetings to come) to speed his climax, to engage with these fantasies and the excitement generated help satisfy him more quickly. This met both of our needs on occasion.

We bought a cock lock which I would infrequently put on him in the morning and this meant I could take a dominant role with him wearing the key around my neck all day, and getting on with work. Cups of tea on demand, evening meal prepared by him and sending him on errands were rewarded with him being set free in the evening and allowed to take me in a manner of his choosing.

One thing he particularly liked was for me to delay his orgasm. Being tied to the bed, left for half an hour then brought to climax meant he seemed to gain extra pleasure. It also meant I could sometimes set things up, leave him to his wild imagination and manage these moments around my work.

Sensory deprivation was another foible. Whilst restrained on the bed, piping music through earbuds and adding a blindfold seemed to maintain his erection as any slight perceived noise or vibration sparked his thoughts as to what might be about to happen. Whenever I checked on him, he seemed to be aroused and ready to be satisfied. It was difficult to leave him alone like that and my juices would flow too every time I thought of what was waiting for me in the next room.

Without him knowing, I would sometimes stand over him and play with myself. I would stop if I thought he was realising what was going on either by a faint smile or if I thought that he could smell me near him. Once deprived of sight and sound, his other senses would be heightened so I had to be careful not to be detected. He never mentioned that he suspected what I was doing and he would have loved to watch but that was for another day.

After a reasonable time, slight pressure on the bed, allowing a breeze through the room and brushes to the skin with a feather soft touch would spark a rock hard reaction and further tease his senses. Watching his secretions drip down his shaft was another thing I liked to see and I'd spend a few seconds with my face really close to his cock but conscious not to breathe on him to give away what I was doing.

Other times I would take photos with my phone and save them for a rainy day. Over time I accumulated many such pictures. These were supplemented by me getting daily dick-pics from him. PJ realised that I didn't object to him initially sending me such photos of himself and this progressed into a daily picture arriving on my phone usually when I was in the middle of some business call or meeting. At the end of each week we agreed I would pick the best of that week then the best of the month and send them back to him, it was our little game. I had to be ultra careful when showing innocent pictures to others for fear of them seeing something they shouldn't!

The only time this had been anything like a problem was when Sherry was looking at photos on my phone and happened across a few pictures of PJ's cock. Initially she was taken aback but I noticed her swipe back to them and spend a little time quietly studying at least a week's worth.

I know he liked the thought of someone else bringing him to orgasm and, whilst unlikely to happen, I joined in with the fantasy and tried to develop the storyline with him. This mainly consisted of trying to make him think it could happen, trying to sew a seed of doubt as to whether it was his wife's hand at work and allowing his mind to reach its own conclusions. Often I would ensure windows were open and outside doors were unlocked. PJ was always aware of this so options, in his mind, were limitless. Who knows who he imagined had wandered in and started stroking his cock.

Well, I know who he mainly thought of, as the same name kept coming up when we talked about it. My best friend, Sherry, was the object of his thoughts and, totally oblivious to how she featured in our sex life. His usual storyline was for her to pop round one afternoon and finding him naked in the house be unable to keep her hands off him while I was working in the office a few yards away.

To this end, we even added a monetary element to proceedings by PJ putting money on the bedside table which I happily accepted. This meant I always had a little extra cash 'in hand' and it made me chuckle when I spent it knowing where it had come from. It also meant I would flush occasionally when I thought about earning extra money from hand jobs, even if it was from my own husband.

One particular afternoon, we played out this fantasy perfectly. PJ had now mastered the technique of tying himself to the bed after putting his earbuds in and blindfold on. This was preceded by a 'give me ten minutes' text and I then spent the next hour nipping in and out of the bedroom for a tickle, a breath across or a gentle little stroke of his cock. At one point I took my wet knickers off and put them near his pillow so he could smell me. He was in a constant state of arousal and almost as wet as I was when I eventually found ten minutes at the end of the day between calls.

Finally, I sat on the side of the bed, took hold of him, spread the juices that were all down his shaft and used them to lubricate the job. Slowly, I stroked him like I knew he enjoyed. Long, slow strokes with my left hand until he swelled to a size that was as big as I'd ever seen him. His mind must have been working overtime in between my visits and he was ready to come. I increased the speed a little and he started to moan, a familiar moan and so close to squirting but I knew I wanted a little more. Slowing right down and with a much softer touch I felt him calm a little. This was enough for me to start my own fun.

Being commando, I was easily able to let my fingers access my wet lips and begin stroking my juices across the sensitive inner parts of my vagina. I let one finger slip inside and it felt like I was in full flow. Whilst maintaining some thoughts of PJ's pleasure, I transferred my juices to his cock and continued to gently pull him off. By squeezing his cock I was able to further add to the sloppy mess in my left hand. With my right hand I started rubbing my clit and could feel my own excitement immediately increase. I decided to have my orgasm first and held PJ just in a firm grip and rub myself faster and harder.

I felt my orgasm build until I was desperate to mount him but managed to control my urges with a different goal in mind. When I lost control, I came strongly. I managed to stifle most of my screams but was confident that his ears were full of loud music. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me for what seemed like ages. I suddenly became aware of the cock in my hand and slowly returned my attention to this.

I regained a rhythm that started slowly and picked up the pace until I knew from his response where hubby was up to. I don't know what he thought I'd paused for but he was still rock hard and maybe he had felt some tell tale movements that meant he knew what I'd been doing? In any event, there was still about twenty seconds of work to do and I knew from his moans and body position that he wasn't going to hold out for any longer. With his eyes and ears out of action and his hands tied to the headboard, PJ was completely at my mercy and the feeling of power was immense. I put my face close to his cock and watched as he started coming in long streams which I directed away from me and onto his stomach. He seemed to have a massive orgasm and his moans and groans finished with a rather weak, 'thank you'. I grabbed my knickers and the £10 note he had left out and headed for the door.