The Lonely Housewife

Morgan was a raven-haired beauty, with long dark hair that fell across her Italian-tan skin and had a body with the sleek curves of a finely tuned F1 race car. Her dark eyes, once bright and full of mystery, were now sad and empty. In her mid-40s, she was stuck in a loveless marriage with no way out. The word "divorce" had been brought up before. Morgan's husband Dave, the owner of a very successful local business, had promised her that if she ever tried to leave him he would bury her in lawyers and she would walk away with nothing and be homeless and alone for the rest of her life. He looked at her as his servant and occasional whore. He barely touched her unless he was demanding a blowjob or when he came home drunk from a business meeting and would roughly sodomize her. As for their son Matthew, who was home from college on summer break, it seemed as if he only looked at her as a short order cook, laundromat, and maid.

She thought maybe she had lost her looks. But when she looked in the mirror, she liked what she saw. She felt like she was aging well. And, judging by the looks other men gave her, she was all but certain they agreed.

All of that changed one fateful day.

Morgan was doing her typical Monday routine working around the house when the doorbell rang at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning. Dave was at the office and Matt was at work with his father learning the tricks of the trade.

Who could that be?

she thought to herself. She opened the door only to find no one there. She looked to the left and the right but saw nothing. Then she spotted the package at her feet.

It was a pink box with a large pink bow. She picked it up and inspected it. There was a tag. She was shocked to see it was addressed to her. She looked it over, flipping the box over and checking all sides before bringing it into the house. She sat down on the couch then laid the box on the coffee table in front of her. She paused before she began to delicately unwrap the bow and open the box.

When she pulled the lid off, she found a typed note in all caps on top its contents.

MORGAN, WEAR THIS OUTFIT AS YOU DO YOUR CHORES TODAY UNTIL 4 P.M. THEN YOU CAN CHANGE BACK INTO YOUR REGULAR CLOTHES.

Her brow furrowed. "Who's this from?" she asked herself. "They know my name and what I'm doing." She gasped when she pulled the contents from the box and held it up. It was a sheer pink negligee. "Oh my God!"

I can't wear this! You can see right through it! Why even bother wearing anything?

She placed the lingerie on the table. Her jaw dropped when she pulled out the other piece of material.

Are these supposed to be panties! They're...they're...it's a string with a see-through piece of lace attached!

She looked at the note again. WEAR THIS OUTFIT AS YOU DO YOUR CHORES. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand.

Is this from Dave? Is that possible? Maybe he's going to surprise me and wants me to be wearing something sexy when he comes home early. Maybe he's changing. Maybe he's finally starting to see me as a woman and not just his personal cum dumpster!

She filled with hope for the first time in years. She raced to the bedroom and slipped into the slinky outfit. She placed her hands on her hips and twisted in front of the mirror. Although she was dressed, not a bit of her tan body was hidden.

A smile stared back at her. "I make this look good," she chuckled. "You still got it, girl!"

As she worked through the house she began to feel more comfortable in what little clothing she was wearing, even finding herself becoming aroused. She had forgotten what it felt like to be a sexy woman wearing provocative clothing. Occasionally she would stop and listen, thinking she might have heard the door opening. But it never came.

Finally, at 4 p.m. she changed into her normal every day clothing. She took another glance at the sexy outfit before folding it and tucking it away.

She had dinner ready when the boys came home at 5:30 that evening, just as her husband expected. After dinner, Matt went to his room, Dave took the paper to the patio, and Morgan cleaned the kitchen. Just another day in the Allen household. But this one was different. When Morgan finished in the kitchen, she joined her husband on the patio.

"Thank you for the present today," she said softly.

"Present? What present?" he said from behind his newspaper.

"You know? The package you sent this morning."

"I didn't send you any fucking package this morning, woman. I've got more important things to do than send you fucking packages. You're imagining things."

"Stop playing," she giggled.

He put the newspaper down and glared at her. "Woman, I told you, I didn't get you any fucking package or present," he snarled. "What kinda game are you playing? You trying to make me jealous or something? Make me think you've got a boyfriend sending you gifts or something?"

"What? No! Nothing like that. It's just, I thought..."

"Tell you what. Now that you mention, I do have a present for you."

For the briefest moment her heart skipped a beat. That was until he started tugging at his belt buckle and unzipping his fly.

"There! Ha ha! There's your fucking present!" he chortled as he waved his flaccid man meat at her. "What? Don't you want your present?"

"I...I..."

"Get over here, get on your knees, and do what you do what you do best, bitch," he growled.

"But...but...Matt might come out. The neighbors might see."

"And what will they see? They'll see a fucking whore giving her husband a fucking blowjob. Now get over here!"

She solemnly rose from her chair and took the few steps to him. He watched with a crooked smile as she slowly dropped to her knees between his legs. She replaced his hand with hers and slowly leaned into his lap.

"Ohhhhhh yeah, that's it, right there," he moaned when she took him into her mouth. "Now suck it good. Suck it like the good little whore you are and maybe I'll give you a present," he chuckled.

She felt him quickly grow in her mouth. He wasn't huge by any stretch of the imagination, or even big. But she let him believe his was the biggest cock on the face of the planet.

"That's it. How do you like sucking on that fat cock? How do you like it?" he hissed.

She nodded her head. "Mmmmmhmmm. Mmmmhmmmm."

He placed his hand on the back of her head and shoved. "Come on, bitch. Stop fuckin' around and take it all!" As she had done so many times before, she easily took his tip into her throat. "Oh yeah! Oh fuck yeah!"

She had been feeling oddly aroused all day. Even though orally pleasing her husband had become a chore, she found herself becoming aroused even more. She slid her hand inside her shorts and squeaked at the first tough of her own hand.

"Hey! What the fuck! Are you fucking fingering yourself? Knock that shit off! Concentrate on what you're doing here! This is about me, not you, you fucking bitch!"

She yanked her hand out of her pants and began to suck on him harder than she ever had. She wanted this to be over and over quickly. Soon she felt him throbbing in her mouth.

"Oh yeah! That's fucking it right there! Jesus Christ, that's it! Holy fuck, you're gonna make me cum already!" He quickly stood up, grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her back, then grabbed his glistening bone with the other and began to jerk himself mere inches from her face. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuuuck!"

His hips jerked. A thick rope shot out of his pole and splashed across her face. Another small spurt landed on her chin and dripped onto her shirt. He yanked her head forward and jammed his poker into her mouth again.

"There you go! Suck it dry! Suck my balls dry, you bitch!"

After a few pumps into her face, he released her hair from his grip and fell back into his seat. He looked at her cum-streaked face and laughed.

"Ha ha ha! There's your fucking present! Did you like it? Did you like your present, bitch?"

She knew the exact response he expected. "Yes. I liked it very much. Thank you," she said meekly.

"Ha ha ha! I thought you'd like it!" He paused. "You know, if the business ever goes south, we'll put you on a street corner. You know how to suck cock, that's for damn sure."

"Why must you say such things to me?" she asked quietly as she rose to her feet.

"Because you're a cock loving whore, that's why. Now go clean that shit off your face before your son sees you."

She left just in the nick of time. A few moments later, Matt appeared at the patio door.

"Everything okay, Dad? I thought I heard a bunch of yelling?"

"Oh yeah, everything's okay. Your mother's such a horny little bitch! She just couldn't wait and gave me head out here. Kind of caught me by surprise, but it's all good. Everything's fine."

"Jesus, Dad! TMI!"

Dave laughed. "Oh, don't be such a drama queen! Your mother loves my cock, what can I say? Ha ha ha!" he laughed as Matt walked back to his room.

Morgan walked to the one bathroom in the house and looked at herself in the mirror. She grabbed a towel, sat on the toilet, buried her face in the towel and began to quietly sob.

*****

Tuesday was just another day as she went through her normal Tuesday routine. She couldn't help but wonder all day, if it wasn't Dave that sent the package, who was it? Who could it possibly be? The thought of having a secret admirer amused her. Every so often she would check the front door to see if another mystery package had been dropped off. But no package came. As she began dinner that evening, the thought occurred to her that maybe that would be the one and only package she would get from her "secret admirer". The thought saddened her a little.

*****

Wednesday morning, as she sorted laundry, the doorbell rang. At first she froze.

Could it be?!

She raced to the door and yanked it open. Alas, no one was there. Her heart leapt when she saw the package at her feet. She grabbed the box and raced to the living room, where she sat it on the coffee table, just as she had done with the first package. This one was heavier than the previous box.

This package was a royal blue with a shiny blue ribbon. She carefully lifted the lid. Once again, there was a typewritten note on top.

YOU DID WELL MONDAY, MORGAN! YOU FOLLOWED THE INSTRUCTIONS TO A "T", EVEN GIVING A BONUS TO YOUR HUSBAND.

She gasped when she read that.

How...how did he know?!

The note continued. I KNOW TODAY IS YOUR LAUNDRY DAY.

How does he know that?!

BUT I ASK THAT YOU WEAR THIS OUTFIT UNTIL 4 P.M. JUST AS YOU DID MONDAY.

She lifted the garment from the box. It was a lacy dark blue bustier with garter belts. There were matching stockings as well as a thong with a tiny triangle of matching material.

Under the clothing was another note. She gasped when she read it.

YOU CAN USE THE DILDO AFTER 3 P.M.

Her jaw dropped when she lifted the paper. There it was. A huge, dark brown dildo. She hesitantly reached into the shallow box and grabbed it. It was heavier than she thought it would be. And more realistic. The detail of the veins wrapping around the thick shaft was impressive. She stared at it.

"There's no way! This thing is three times as big as Dave!" She rotated and studied it. "Impossible!" But, much to her disbelief, just the thought of having this monster inside of her was making her hot and wet.

She took the contents to her bedroom and laid it on the bed. She peeled off her shorts and t-shirt and slipped into her new clothing. She'd never worn anything with garter belts before, it was a big of a struggle. But, once she got it all put together, she immediately felt sexy. She looked in the mirror.

"Damn! That's hot!"

After admiring herself, she went back to her household duties. Each time she passed through the bedroom to hang up a shirt or put socks in the drawer, she saw the dildo laying on the bed. It was almost like it was calling her. Each time, the temptation was greater.

Early that afternoon, she was pulling a load of linens from the washer when she froze.

I normally hang these on the line. Outside. That means I would have to go...outside...wearing this! Oh my gosh. If the neighbors saw me wearing this...

She gathered the linens and walked to the patio door, then considered her options.

The fence is fairly tall. I...I think it'll be okay. I...I don't think anybody will...see me.

She slowly opened the sliding glass door, then stepped onto the cement patio as if she were stepping onto a field of glass shards. She stopped and quickly swiveled her head. The coast was clear. She walked to the clothesline at a brisk pace, then quickly threw up the linens and clipped them in place. Once accomplished, she picked up her basket and rushed back inside. Once she slid the door closed behind her, she fell back against it panting.

A smile crossed her face.

What a rush!

The next 90 minutes seemed to crawl. 2:10. 2:20. At 2:40 she went outside to gather her linens, this time at a much more leisurely pace, almost hoping someone would see her. She brought the basket back into the bedroom to fold, just as she had done every Wednesday for years. But today there was this thing on the bed.

She glanced at it, then the clock. 2:50. The room was getting warmer.

2:55 her body was hot. She was envisioning it in her hand.

2:58 she began to unclip her garter belts.

2:59.

When the clock hit 3 p.m. her underwear was around her ankles. She stepped out of them, grabbed the rubber phallic, and sat on the bed with her back against the wooden headboard and her legs splayed across the bed. Her body was on fire.

She held in front of her face. "No way," she whispered as she glanced down at her swollen slit. She scooched into a more comfortable position, brought her legs back, and lowered the thick tool between her legs.

She sighed and closed her eyes when the rubber first touched her. Of course, she had masturbated many times. But she had never used anything like this before. She hummed as she ran the tip along the length of her gash.

She squeaked when she first pushed, then barked when the head parted her lips.

Her head tilted back. "Ohhhhh myyyyy Goddddd," she moaned as the first four inches slid in.

She couldn't remember the last time she had anything even closely resembling and man's member inside of her special place. It felt like her body was on fire. She looked down and saw that more than half of the prod was still exposed.

"Holy shit," she sighed.

She slowly began to slide the tool in and out, moaning and biting her bottom lip. She was feeling fuller and fuller. She'd forgotten the thrill of having a man inside of her. She looked down. Only the base was showing.

"Oh my fucking God," she moaned.

The pumps grew longer and faster. Her moans became louder and extended. She was soon lying flat on the bed and squirming. She began to paw at her ample chest with one hand while she pumped with the other. Her hips began to rise and fall.

"Ohmagawd, yes. Yes. Ohmagawd, yes," she groaned. She began to buck. Her stabs grew harder. "Ohmagawd! Ohmagawd, yes! Yes! Yes! Ohmagawd, yes! Ohmagawd! Ohmagawd! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! Guh! Guh! Nnnnnngggghhhh aaaaiiiiiyyyyyeeeee!"

It felt like a 4

th

of July fireworks celebration had exploded inside her lithe body. Every nerve ending was on fire. Time stood still. Her mind went blank.

After what felt like days, her body sank into the bed. She closed her eyes. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. That was the most intense orgasm she could remember having. It was the closest thing to having sex she'd had in years.

*****

Thursday came and went without a package. But her normal Thursday routine changed that day. She did her housework in the pink negligee from Monday and took an afternoon break with her new brown lover.

Friday was typically her light day. Other than a few minor housekeeping chores, Friday was mostly a day for herself. Until the doorbell rang at 9 a.m.

She raced through the house and flung open the door.

"Shit!" she squawked when no one was there. But there was another package at her feet.

She briskly walked to the couch and laid the package on the coffee table. This was a plain white box and much smaller than the previous two with a simple white bow. Once again, the first thing she saw was a note when she opened the box. This one was short and to the point.

PUT THIS ON NOW.

She thought it was odd but went straightway to the bedroom. The first thing she pulled out was a lacy white half bra.

"What the..." she said to herself when she held it up. Nonetheless, she peeled off her clothing and strapped the bra on. It cupped her round and firm 36Cs perfectly. Next was the matching white thong and another note. After slipping into the thong, she read the note.

ANSWER THE PHONE.

No sooner had she put the note aside, the phone that had been hidden behind it lit up, startling her. She hesitantly picked up the phone.

"H-h-hello?"

"Hello, Morgan," came the deep gravely response. "You're doing very well. You follow instructions quite well."

"Who is this?"

"That's not important. This phone can only receive calls. You cannot make calls. There's an ear piece in the box. Put it on."

Sure enough, there it was, illuminated in the box.

She wrapped it around her ear and inserted the receiver. "Okay, it's on."

"Can you hear me okay?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Would you like your next set of instructions?"

"Um, sure."

"You have a long black coat in your closet."

How the fuck does he know that?!

"And black high heels."

Lucky guess!

"Put them on."

"Now?"

"Yes, of course."

"Um, okay." The coat reached mid-thigh. The high heels only accentuated her long toned legs. "Okay. Now what?"

"I'm going to text you an address. I want you to go to it."

"What? Now?"

"Yes, of course."

"But I don't have a car."

"That's fine. The address is three blocks from you."

"So you want me to walk to an address dressed like this?"

"Yes."

"And if I don't?"

The voice chuckled. "Oh Morgan. You know you want to. Have I done anything so far that would make you question me?"

"Well, no, I guess not."

"So why would this be any different? Besides, you wouldn't want your son and husband to see you with a huge dildo stuffed up your cunt, would you?"

The words hit her like a sledge hammer. "Wha...wha...you...you wouldn't!"

"Just go to the address, Morgan."

"Okay. Fine. I'll go to the address," she huffed.

"Good. I'll see you in a few minutes." The phone went dark, then binged with a message. It was the address.

She walked along the street with a mixture of excitement and foreboding. It was mid-July and she was wearing a short buttoned up coat wearing next to nothing underneath it. The thought of walking through her neighborhood and around people knowing what was hidden under her jacket, but they not knowing, was surprisingly an adrenaline rush. Going to a strange address to see this stranger who'd been sending her sexy was both enthralling and ominous at the same time.

When she got to what she thought was the address, she stopped. She looked at her phone to double check that she had the correct address. Her heart sunk with dread. She was standing across the street from an old abandoned warehouse. All kinds of thoughts raced through her mind. What if he had lured her here to rape her? Or share her with his friends? Or kidnap her? Or kill her? Her mind was racing.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed. She tapped the button on her ear piece.

"What are you waiting for, Morgan?"

"I...I...It..."

"It will be fine, Morgan. No one is going to hurt you. That's the last thing that I want. Please, come in."

"Um. O-o-okay."

She walked across the street and into the dark, dingy warehouse. He guided her through a series of hallways until she reached her destination.