My husband, like most men, is a gadget freak. He likes nothing better than some new toy. It makes Christmas and birthdays very easy for me -- well, that was until he started to buy his own toys.
Before I go any further I had better introduce myself. I'm Sally, 39, slim (after that diet I should be) and I can still get into my wedding dress. My vitals are 34E-24-36, a bit of an old fashioned figure, but the curves are in the right places. If only I could lose a bit more off my bum! I'm married to Chris, 43, six feet six in his socks and oh so handsome. He still only has to look at me with those big brown eyes to make me feel weak at the knees.
Yes, we are as much in love as the day we married. I was 18 then and that's a long time to remain infatuated with the same man. But he turns me on all the time. His only fault (if it can be called a fault) is he has this slight inclination to be masterful. This is probably because I compliment him by being very submissive, so in all those years have never challenged his authority.
Back to the subject of his toys; as I said, I love to buy him gadgets for presents - things like the remote controlled indoor helicopter he got for Christmas this year or anything for his beloved computer is always very welcome. However, he has developed a liking for sex toys, not for himself but for him to use on me.
Now don't think I'm complaining - it can be a lot of fun to be driven to countless orgasms with a rabbit or have that butterfly strapped to my pussy for hours at a time keeping me on the verge of climax till he takes it off and, well, you know exactly what don't you? The whole point of writing this account of his toys is to tell you about his latest find, a remote controlled egg.
For those not initiated into the wonderful art of sex toys an egg is just that, an egg shaped plastic sphere that inserts into your pussy. The remote radio-control can be used several yards away to start, stop, increase the sensations, and to change the program. No, not the TV programme; it has several different modes from a soft vibration, to a throbbing wild thing.
At first it was fun for him to be in another room and, suddenly, the egg would start to vibrate deep inside me, sending wonderful sensations through me, making me long for his big hard cock. He has brought me to orgasm with this thing several times and he has made me beg him to take it out and 'fuck me', a word I would never use except in those circumstances.
All this is a bit tame for this site you may be thinking, however I am just getting to the real story of this egg and my husband's domination of me sexually.
We were going to a dinner/dance one night. It was his company 'do' just before Christmas. He bought me a fantastic trouser suit for the occasion, silk and very flattering. I felt very pampered and sexy wearing this designer outfit, the trousers flared from the knee and the sleeves likewise from the elbow. The pants fitted my new slimmer bum so tight it made my bum look quite exposed. I only ever wear a thong so no visible panty lines.
On that evening we were in the bedroom getting ready to go out. I had showered and done my hair. My makeup as good as I was able to make it and, yes, looking in the mirror I was quite pleased with the overall effect. As I was about to step into my new lacy thong with matching bra he had brought home for me that day, he said "Wait a minute", and opened his bedside drawer.
I wondered what on earth he had got me now, but when he brought out the egg I looked at the clock and said "We don't have time to mess around with that now, wait till we come home."
That wicked look he sometimes has crossed his face as he replied "We have all night" and, sitting me on the bed, he moistened the egg with his mouth and inserted it deep inside me. Now I know I should have objected but I am well aware of how persuasive he can be, so just accepted his will. We finished dressing and as we left the bedroom he slipped the remote control into his pocket.
As we sped along the motorway to our rendezvous he turned it on, making me squirm in the seat, my heart in my mouth as I knew he would be giving me thrills with the egg all night. I would be absolutely gagging for it by the time we got home. He had used it on me in the most inappropriate places before but only on our own, never in company. How on earth was I going to handle it?
By the time we had reached the venue I was almost climaxing. He had turned it on and off several times, not just for his amusement but for my pleasure as well.
It was a formal dinner so we sat opposite each other at the table with alternate male and female guests; I sat between his boss and another man whom I hadn't met before.
My husband's boss is a lecherous old man with a terrible reputation in the office for leering at the young females at every opportunity. It was general knowledge that he would take every advantage of his position as the managing director to get into their knickers. The stories about him and any girl silly enough to submit to his advances were rife and some of them were probably true.
Before the soup course had been served he had turned that thing on a couple of times. I was sure the buzzing could be heard by the men sitting either side of me.
I kicked him under the table as he flicked the switch in his pocket, making me tense my tummy muscles as another wave of sensations swept through me.
All through dinner he kept it up, holding me in suspense just short of climaxing, watching my eyes for that tell tale sign and stopping just in time. I was trying so hard to keep up a conversation with the other people at the table but had to keep biting my lip to stop myself from crying out in ecstasy.
