James stumbled toward the bathroom attached to the master suite of his house. He flipped on the light, squinted against the fluorescent glare, and lifted the toilet seat. He looked down at the bowl, which stared blandly up at him.
Pulling out his thick nine-inch cock, he began to jerk himself off rapidly. His thoughts were boiling. This was the latest in a string of rejections by his wife of six years, Beth. "I'm really, really tired, James," she told him. "I just don't feel like it."
It was the same mantra she'd been chanting for nearly the last three years. They had had sex five times in the last two years. His requests, which were by now more like begging, had grown fewer and farther between. He had gotten a subscription to a girlie magazine. He watched porn films with increasing frequency while his wife was out. But it wasn't the same, and he had finally given in again tonight and asked for sex. The answer was the same. She was too tired. She always had a headache, or she had her period, or something. The plea, once again, ended with him jerking off into the toilet.
He reached his climax and came in long spurts. His cum made soft splashing noises as it hit the water in the bowl. Feeling tired and empty, he flushed the toilet, cleaned himself off and went back to bed.
James remembered their honeymoon. She had been 21; he had been 23. They had gone to the Virgin Islands. He thought it was appropriate, as he was her first. The hotel bed had been adorned with white silk. Beth had spread one of the hotel's plush towels underneath her in case she bled. That was his first clue as to her lack of spontaneity. She hadn't bled, but it seemed that she hadn't really enjoyed the sex either. He had managed to bring her to orgasm, her tight cunt gripping his cock as she softly moaned out his name. But after the first time, she was content to go to bed. They only had sex twice more in the week that they spent at the posh resort.
So this was the state of affairs. He found himself with perpetual cases of blue balls, and his wife was frigid. He had tried for years to understand. Once he had sat her down and asked her if she liked it when he made love to her. Beth had avoided his eyes and said, "Of course I do. You're my husband." But the refusals had continued. She would not give him oral sex; she said that it felt dirty to her and she didn't enjoy it. Claiming she thought it felt weird, she would not even let him go down on her.
James never even thought of cheating on Beth. But he knew that something had to be done or else. As he drifted off to sleep, a plan began to form in the back of his mind...
That Friday, James made sure that he got home from work earlier than Beth did. He had stopped by a sex shop on the way home and bought several items, including two pairs of padded handcuffs and leather ankle straps. His problem, he decided, was that he always asked for sex, never pushing it if she didn't want to. But she never wanted to! He felt some trepidation; if this backfired, his wife could leave him. But if it went right, she would realize how pleasurable sex could be, and there would be a small sexual revolution right under his roof! James decided to take the chance.
When Beth came home that evening, James's plan was set. He had attached the handcuffs to the top of the steel bed frame, and hid the free cuffs under the pillows. The leather ankle straps were attached to the sides of the full-sized bed near the foot.
"Hi Beth," he greeted her from his position on the couch.
"Hi honey," she said brightly. She put her purse down on the table by the door and bent to take her shoes off.
Since Beth was facing away from him, James used the opportunity to leer at his wife. She was a beautiful woman. She had sleek blonde hair that brushed her shoulders and hazel eyes. Her pale complexion was stained with natural color over the cheekbones. Her 5'4" frame weighed a trim 118 pounds, which she kept up religiously with almost daily visits to the gym. She had modest breasts, a 36B, but she had the biggest nipples that James had ever had the pleasure of seeing. The aureoles were small, but the nipples themselves stood out as long as the first joints on his pinky fingers. Beth usually dressed conservatively on top to hide them. In the first year of their marriage, she had worn lingerie for him to show them off, but it had been clear that she was uncomfortable with such exhibition.
He rose and went over to her as she straightened up from removing her shoes. Pulling her to him, he kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss-she seemed to like kissing him, he'd found-but when his hands began to move slowly down her back toward her small round ass, she pulled away and smiled, suddenly looking tired.
"I just want to go to bed, okay, honey?" she murmured.
"Okay," he smiled, assuming an appropriately tired expression himself. "That's what I was going to do anyway. Want some company?"
She looked relieved. "Of course," she said.
James climbed into bed while his wife was brushing her teeth. He just bet she was tired! It was only eight o'clock, and a Friday, no less. It was time to teach Beth a lesson.
Beth emerged from the bathroom wearing her usual boxers and oversized T-shirt, her standard sleepwear. She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, and got into bed next to him.
No sooner had she laid down and relaxed when he pounced. He sat straddling her, and grabbed her arms. James barely had time to take note of her shocked expression while he fastened both cuffs simultaneously around each of Beth's wrists. He reached backward and pulled the ankle strap upward and quickly pulled it tight around one of her ankles. By the time she thought to kick and struggle, he only had her other leg to worry about, and he easily controlled her while binding her remaining limb.
Beth was now spread-eagled on the bed, her body making a big X. She looked frightened and angry, but was not screaming. "What do you think you are doing, James?" she asked, with a hint of indignation. She had the air of someone who knew that if she put her foot down, he would comply.
Little did she know, he thought gleefully. His other purchase on the way home had been a single red rose. He pulled this out of its hiding spot under the bed, and traced her cheek with it. Beth closed her eyes and inhaled its scent. She looked confused.
"Beth, darling," he said gently. "You seem to have gotten it into your head since we've been married that sex is dirty and bad. I don't know why. But tonight I'm going to take care of you. After tonight you'll have changed your mind completely."
She pulled fruitlessly at her bonds. After a moment, she gave up, knowing that she would only hurt herself. Still, her face was angry. "James, let me up. Why are you doing this?"
He retrieved a pair of scissors from the bathroom. "No, Beth. I'm not letting you up, and in the end, you'll be glad I did this."
She lay powerless as he began to cut the boxers slowly away from her creamy thighs. Her white cotton underwear was exposed as he pulled the flannel fabric away from her in pieces. Her shirt went in a similar manner. Beth held perfectly still as he cut; he suspected that she was afraid that he would cut her if she didn't. He would never hurt her, but it was better that she be submissive, he thought.
He was delighted to discover that she had taken her bra off while changing for bed. His sexy wife lay tied on the bed, in her underwear only. Having stripped for bed himself, he was only in his own boxers. He could feel himself getting hard at the sight of her.
Beth's eyes were glued to the small tent forming at James' crotch. As he used the scissors one last time to cut off her underwear, he felt himself grow completely erect. He slid the boxers off, freeing his erection from its cotton bond.
"Don't, James," Beth begged.
"Why not?" he asked, feeling himself starting to slip under the control of lust. He knelt at the foot of the bed, his trim 6'3" frame easily able to keep himself in her line of sight. "Don't lie to me. Why don't you like sex with me?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "The first time, and almost every time since, it's hurt. You're a monster... down there," she finished shyly. Her face was very anxious. "And my mother never enjoyed sex with my father. She used to complain that it was just a woman's duty and it wouldn't ever be enjoyable. When you took my virginity, it hurt so much that I figured she was right, and didn't want to set myself up for more pain. But I would do it out of duty."
"Oh Beth," James smiled. "If that's all it is, then please, baby, let me show you something different!"
"I'm scared," she cried. "Please untie me."
"I will, honey, I promise. But not yet. You'll see..."
James leaned forward and appraised his wife's pussy, now fully on display for him. It had dark blonde hair, trimmed very close, blanketing it like a tiny cloud. She kept her bikini line shaved, so the effect was like that of an upside-down triangle. Her lips were pink and gently wrinkled. He smiled to himself; he'd get rid of those wrinkles. By the time he was done, her pussy would be so swollen it would be ready to burst.
He sat next to her on the bed, and began to run his hands along her sides. Goosebumps rose on her flesh. He traced his hands lightly along her breasts and was pleased to see the nipples raise themselves to attention, soon standing like little cylinders, hard. James lowered his mouth and took one between his lips.
Beth moaned softly as James swirled his tongue around her nipple. He flicked it back and forth with his tongue, eliciting sighs of excitement. Switching to the other nipple, he let his hand drift downward to rest on her mound. Beth shivered as he touched her inner thigh lightly.
He lifted his head from her smooth tits, and began playing with her nipples using his fingers. His other hand was still right near her pussy, but he did not touch it. Instead he ran his fingers all around it. Soon, he could see the first drops of wetness coating his wife's outer lips. He felt a surge of excitement; he couldn't remember the last time they hadn't used K-Y Jelly.
