Owning Up

Owning up

My wife Jo and I were lying in bed one morning. She had returned from a three-week family visit late the previous evening and we were catching up.

What we were really doing was lazily exploring each other's body after so many days apart.

Through her nightdress, I was stroking her mound, while she felt my hard-on through my briefs.

"I'll need to tidy myself up down there," Jo said. "a good trim is called for. I was thinking of shaving most of it off now the warm weather has arrived and just leaving what you once referred to as a landing strip. Would you like that?"

"That's always got to be your call -- your body -- your decision," I told her.

She squeezed my cock. "Did you miss my hands on your bits?" she asked.

"Not just your hands," I told her, "Your mouth, your breasts and your other holes were sorely missed."

"And did you behave yourself while I was away, or did you have a little play with this?" again squeezing my cock.

I did not respond at once. I needed to think what to tell her; whether to admit exactly how I had dealt with her absence and possibly turn her off, or to pass it off as nothing to talk about.

I chose to risk it. "If I tell you what I did, I need you to listen to the whole story before making any judgements. Is that OK?"

"Mmmm......now you've got me intrigued. Do tell."

It was so difficult to know where and how to start.

"I needed it to be a bit kinky to get properly hard without you," I said "so I rigged up a contraption to pull my balls back between my legs, which seemed to make my cock bigger right at the start."

"Mmmmmm......go on."

"And I put the clips on my nipples -- the ones you like on yours."

"Why don't you show me?" Jo said and kissed me.

I went to the room next door and brought back the belt I had used, with the fabric strip attached to go between my legs to pull my ball sack back. I put it on.

I looped a separate length of fabric around the base of my cock and knotted it onto the belt.

"Why do you do that?" she asked me.

"It goes with tying my balls back -- and it pulls the foreskin down, so that the top of my cock is bare while I play with it."

Jo had already taken the nipple clamps out of her drawer. She passed them to me.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"I used a pair of your pants to wrap around my cock -- I loved the feel of them on me."

"Which ones?"

"The black net ones."

Now Jo was out of bed and went to her knicker drawer and pulled out the very pair I had been using while she was away. She checked them carefully, no doubt looking for signs of damage -- or cum.

She put the black pants in my hand and told me to show her what I had been doing to myself. By now the straps of her nightie had slipped down her arms so that the tops of her magnificent breasts were uncovered. She clearly noticed but did nothing to put the straps back up.

I put on the nipple clamps, and I wrapped her knickers around my cock and started to wank. She twisted the clamps on my nipples in exactly the same way as she liked me to do to her tits until I groaned with the pain.

"Now you know how I feel when you're doing it to me," she said. "Is there anything else you've got to tell me?"

It was uncanny how she seemed to know that there was still a further dimension to this, a worse example of my depravity.

"There is one more thing," I told her. "I was taking your dirty knickers out of the laundry basket and smelling them while I played with myself."

I waited for the explosion, but instead, she felt my cock, still inside the black pants.

"Well there's plenty to choose from in there now. I put all my dirty washing in last night so why don't you find a pair now to sniff?"

I decided to go for broke.

"Why don't you choose for me?"

By now, her nightdress had slipped even further down her breasts, so that it looked as if her nipples were ready to come into view. She went to the basket, rummaged around in there, then handed me two pairs, both black.

"Which do you want?" she asked, "this one that's not too stained -- or these, which are absolutely rotten?"

She knew the answer without my saying anything. Why else would she offer me a pair of her knickers where the whole gusset strip that had sat against her wet cunt all day was so heavily stained?

I took them from her and placed the stained area against my nostrils. I breathed in the sex aroma of her as she gripped my cock and seemed to be trying to wrench it off my body.

"Are you enjoying that?" she enquired. "Are you ready to come yet? When you are, you have to tell me so that I can get out of the way."

"Are you going to toss me off, all the way?" I asked her.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Now her tits were free of her nightie, which had slipped off them completely.

"You keep sniffing my dirty pants and I'll just tease this for a while. But make sure to give me proper warning before you come."

"I can't shoot anyway until I take my balls out of the tie," I said, putting my hand over hers around my prick. "I can come, but the spunk is only going to shoot out when they are out."

She leaned forward towards me so that her bare tits swung against the tip of my cock, then moved back a little and started a slow and sexy wanking action.

"How good is the smell of those pants?" she asked.

"Good enough to eat," I replied.

"What does that mean? Do you want to taste them, all stained and smelly like that?"

I could only nod, so extreme was the mixture of her hand tossing me off, the sight of her bare tits with those magic nipples as hard as hell and the hardcore things she was seeing me do, encouraging me to do.

"Go on then -- I want to watch you tasting what I've leaked onto those knickers."

Once I started, I wasn't going to stop -- nor did Jo show any signs of wanting me to. She speeded up the hand action, while reminding me that she wanted proper warning of when I was about to come.

I picked the spot on the crotch of her knickers where the stain was thickest and lapped at it with my tongue. Smelling and tasting her stains while she was away had been hugely stimulating, but this was different.

"Does it taste good?" she asked. "Does it make you want to come for me?"

That was enough to drive me over the edge. I stopped her hand and gasped that I was ready.

"You get your balls out," she ordered me, and she took the stained pants from my grasp. She held them with the stained part outwards, clearly showing dark where I had been licking them.

I did as she told me while she placed the used knickers against the head of my cock, so that my spunk poured out onto them.

"You've got one more thing to do," she said, "you can lick your own cum off them before they go back in the basket. All of it -- but that's not going to be a problem for you, is it?"

I was still in wonderland. Just half an hour ago, I had hesitated to tell Jo how I had satisfied myself during her absence; now she was there, tits out and proud, telling me to eat my own spunk off her filthy knickers.

She lifted the knickers to my mouth.

"Enjoy, you kinky, filthy man. Every scrap in your mouth and down your throat."

I did just as she told me. By this stage, I would have done anything she asked for or instructed; all barriers were down.

"What about you -- don't you want me to suck you off or anything else?"

"Not now -- I'm going to have a good think about what's just happened. I have to decide how I feel about stuff that's this kinky and the state it got me in. Later on, I might just need you to taste the real thing, not just the stains on my dirty knickers. We'll see. Now, tidy yourself up and put all these things away. I'm going for a shower."

Breakfast was quiet; everything very cordial, even pleasant, but not a single reference to what had gone on between us just an hour earlier.

I was writing at my desk when Jo appeared.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Of course -- what is it?"

"I've been thinking really hard about this morning and I'm not very much clearer in my own mind than I was straight after we'd done......well, you know what we did."

"How can I help?"

"If I ask you a question, will you tell me honestly what you think, what you feel?"

"Of course, I will."

"Well....it got pretty kinky, didn't it? And I was every bit as bad as you were -- look, I bloody enjoyed it. But here's my question -- when I act like a slut, which I did, in spades, doesn't that turn you off, if not immediately, then later, when you think back to what I did?"

Of all the things I had imagined might come out from her going over the session we'd enjoyed earlier in the day, I had not seen that coming.

I reached for her and pulled her towards where I was sitting, but she was still tense and I did not push my luck.

"You asked me to be completely honest with you, and I'm going to do just that -- but give me time to do it properly. All right?"

Jo nodded.

"You and I had our first sexual experiences with each other, back in our schooldays, the first sights, feels and tastes of sex with someone else. And it's been good ever since, all these years."

"From the very start, when we were just touching each other, exploring each other's body, finding out what you liked, or didn't like, I realised that you had what I always saw as a very healthy interest in, for want of a better word, the kinky side of it. You remember that very soon after we started going together, you were happy to piss in front of me and seemed very keen to hold my cock while I pissed. I remember that because it used to cause direction problems, because it was so hard."

"And that's gone on, all the way through the years. Anything we've tried, you pushed the limits to find the most pleasure for both of us. And if I have to find one word that sums up those exciting "extras" that you've done, or asked me to do, then "slut" might be just that word. And I love it."

Jo went to speak, but I stopped her.

"Just one more thing, then I'll shut up. I was very doubtful about telling you how I'd dealt with your being away -- but the way you reacted and -- this is the important part of my answer to your question -- the stuff you did and made me do at the end made it a fantastic experience for me. Please, please, go on being as sluttish as you want."

Now she did come to press against me.

"Thank you," she murmured. "If I gave you the choice between tasting the pants I've got on -- or tasting me down there -- which would you choose?"

"Why can't I do both?" I asked her.

"Right answer," she said and pulled me into our bedroom.