A New Loo for Marriage

Looks like this is probably going to be three parts. If you liked the first one then you'll probably like this one too. Or if you're a masochist who just wants to disturb their own senses (yes, this is a cuckold story) by reading stuff you don't like or if you just like to give a bunch of 1 stars while talking to yourself in the comments (you know who you are) I hope you like it too :)

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"How hard is he fucking you?"

"Really hard, he fucks so hard!"

"Pulling your hair?"

"Yes, he pulls...he pulls...m-my hair!"

"How big is his cock?...Tell me."

"It's soooo big honey."

"How big?!"

"Really f-fucking big!"

"You like getting fucked?"

"I like it!"

"It feel good?"

"Felt so good...getting fucked that hard."

"He came in you?"

"Yes, in-inside of me...he came...he came inside of me!"

His entire body spasms and seems to fold violently into a V before bending back the other way as he ejaculates gasping for air. His cock strains in my hand, the ejaculate adds more lubrication and I continue stroking making sure I relieve him of every last spurt. He's never been so virile or so potent. He wipes his forehead and flops his arms by his side, seemingly unable to wipe his ejaculation from his chest and stomach. Returning with a towel, only the light from the hallway illuminates the bedroom, I see his naked shadowed form spread out on the mattress. A layer of sweat reflects the dim light off his skin and he appears to glow with satisfaction. Not a single reflex in his limbs and his eyes flicker somewhere between waking bliss and complete rest. I kiss the places I wipe before settling in to cuddle at his side.

Resting my head on his chest, I hear his heart beating slowly but deliberately with loud thumps. "You came so much honey. You really liked it?" I dab my finger in a puddle of cum I missed on his body lifting it and watching it drip off the end of my fingernail.

"Been waiting for this all week." He says, sounding completely satisfied.

"I've just never seen you so turned on...well...unless we talk about it." I pick up more cum and watch it slowly drip again.

"I don't know Michelle, I don't know why. I don't think I can explain it."

"No, I don't need you to explain, not asking you to...I'm just saying that's all, I'm just surprised."

"Do you like it?" He asks with a relaxed sigh.

"Yeah, I love seeing you so turned on. You're staying so hard. I like it when you get hard like that...Turns me on."

"I mean do you like telling me?"

"Yeah, I guess so, I mean if you like hearing about it. Don't take it too seriously, I don't mean it all. It's fun though."

"What do you mean, you don't mean it all?"

"You know all the big cock stuff. I'm not trying to put you down or anything but, you know? I don't really care all that much about that stuff."

"But you like it."

"Yeah, doesn't mean I don't like yours though, I never mean it like that. Different that's all. There's more to sex than that." The small puddle of cum is turning white and creamy from becoming my absent mind's point of attention.

"How is it different? Like more full?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Stretching you?"

"Stretching me? Colin, come on, it's a vagina not spandex. Anyways, I've had kids...your kids... remember?" I can't help but to giggle at the implication.

He plays it off lightly, but he isn't laughing. "It goes deeper?" His fingers stroke my hair and the side of my face softly, his knuckle is rough and feels good on my smooth cheek.

"Come on, obviously if it's longer, but if the guy isn't careful it doesn't feel that good."

"What do you mean?"

"If it hits the wrong place it can hurt, unless he's careful about it."

"Was he careful?" His cock twitches to half attention before falling to the side.

"Are you getting hard again?"

He laughs somewhat sheepishly, "yeah" and continues, "How big was he?"

"Why do you think I should know that? You keep asking."

"Just guess."

"Guess what?"

"How many inches?"

"Inches? Colin, I use the metric system, I don't know what you use on your drawings but this is Canada and we use the metric system. I don't even think I know what an inch is."

"I'm just over five, like five-one."

"What's the one?"

"An eighth."

With a deadpan drawl I inquire, "You've measured yourself to the eighth?"

"Michelle, it's less than five and a half if that helps, ok?"

"I suppose."

"So, how big is he?"

"I don't know, maybe a few inches?"

He swallows making a "gulp" sound, "a few inches?" He repeats while his breath sinks shallow.

"I guess, maybe three. I never asked him."

"Thicker?"

"Yeah, thicker too. Honey, your fine don't worry about it, seriously."

"I'm not worried. I just want to know...Michelle, I know I'm not that big."

"Oh stop it. Why do you have to say that?"

"It's true, right?"

"Colin, I don't know, I've never measured anyone."

"Ok, then tell me, out of all the guys in the world, and be honest ok?"

Pulling the cover I try to contain my laughter, "Dear, contrary to what you may believe I haven't fucked the whole world yet."

"Ok, ok, then just the guys you've been with, am I bigger or smaller than most guys you've been with?"

"Honey! What do you want me to say? I can't believe you're asking me that?"

"I want you to be honest, that's it. I won't get upset."

"Sure."

"Sure what?"

"Sure, you're probably smaller, but not like a lot smaller or anything, most guys are around your size, at least the ones I've been with, maybe a bit bigger but not like anything that makes a difference. Ok?"

"But some make a difference?"

"Yeah, some make a difference. Being honest, ok?" I shrug through intonation.

"Michelle, I'm not upset, I just want to hear about, ok?"

"Why do you want to hear about this? I can't be good for you."

"It turns me on, ok? And I want to talk about it and I want you to be honest, none of this, it's all the same BS, just tell me, ok?"

"I still married you, you know that, right?"

He returns my sarcasm with a curt, "Yes, honey."

"Well then what does it matter about dick sizes?"

"Just curious, that's all. Now, can you tell me the truth about size?"

"More than curious dear, your little cock hasn't stopped being hard. Or you think I haven't noticed?"

Titling his hips up suggestively. "You can rub it again?"

"While we talk about dick sizes?"

"Yeah."

"Pass me the lube then." I sit halfway up and squirt some into my palm. He flinches to the cold touch but quickly relaxes again. I move my hand in slow long measured motions, squeezing at the head before letting it pop out past the pinky end of my fist. There is no give, his cock doesn't flop down, it's standing to complete attention. I repeat the motion a few more times squeezing a bit extra when I get to the head giving him a small pulse of pain. His cock bops falling out of my hand but shows no signs of wilting.

"So what do you want to know?" I say playfully committing to this little game.

"Do you like big dicks?" His voice trembles as he asks.

"Honey, I'm still a girl." I say playfully giving him a cute look.

"So girls like that?"

"Some do."

"You like it?"

"Uh-huh." I nod my head.

"Be honest Michelle."

"Yeah, I like it, the big ones look so strong and masculine, really sexy."

"Just how it looks?"

"No, there's more to it than that, but it looks really magnificent too."

"What else?"

"It goes deeper."

"You like that?"

"Yeah, I like that."

"Makes you full?"

"Are you going to let me tell you?" I laugh with a nervous edge.

He sighs loudly before continuing, "Tell me why."

I kneel beside him on the mattress leaning over and settle into a more rhythmic pace. "Do you want to fuck me honey?"

"I can't right now."

"You're so hard though, you sure?"

"I just can't right now."

"Yeah? You can if you want."

"I can't, please just keep doing it. Please?"

"I'm not stopping, don't worry, ok, I'm not stopping." A maternal articulation creeps into my voice.

"No, don't stop, please don't stop. Ok? Don't stop. I just can't fuck you right now." I can hear the desperation in his voice.

"I won't, I promise. It's ok honey, I'm not going to stop. You don't have to fuck me if you can't right now."

"You liked how deep it went?"

"Yes honey, when he fucked me his cock went really deep."

"And you liked it?"

"Uh-huh."

"And...you...you...liked getting f-f-fucked by his big cock?"

"Yeah, he fucked me really good and I liked it." I continue to sooth with calmness.

"Why?"

"Why? Because he made me cum...Baby, he made me cum."

"From intercourse?"

"Uh-huh, he fucked me to an orgasm."

"Seriously? With just...just..with his c-cock?"

"Yeah, that's why I went back to him, I only going to do it the one time, but he made me cum and I wanted to cum that way again." My hormones bounce in the pit of my stomach from the brazen admission.

"Because his cock? Because it's big?"

"Not just that, but yeah, that's part of it. It's how he put pressure on my g-spot and the friction, and he was able to keep it pressed while he did it and I came."

"Like a hard orgasm? Did you scream?"

"Yes, and he just kept fucking like he didn't care, I couldn't even catch my breath, I couldn't believe it was happening like that"

"What did it feel like?"

"I don't know how to explain it, it's like I have to pee but I can't...umm...maybe like the top of a rollercoaster? I don't know if that is really it. Maybe more like a screw being turned and tightening, and tightening before it breaks and everything falls out if that makes any sense. Maybe all those things. I'm not sure it's something I can put in words; it's just felt."

"Is it better than the other way?"

"Honestly, I guess so, yeah, I feel it all over my body, I like the other way, but it's just different."

With his eyes rolling in his head my husband ejaculates for the second time. I hold him firmly in my fist as shoots sperm and penis pulses in my palm. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Honey, I'm so sorry."

"Michelle, no! Why?"

I start crying, "I just need to catch my breath."

"You're crying, Michelle, baby, it's ok. Why are you crying?" He says in alarm.

"I didn't mean to tell you that."

"I asked you and I wanted you to be honest. Don't cry...Michelle, it's fine...you don't have to be upset.

"I'm fine, just emotional. I'm fine." I sit kneeling and sobbing, not completely sure why. I cover my face with the towel. His sperm is still wet and cold from his first orgasm and I can feel it on my face. My body heaves in an effort to force air through my tears. The room is otherwise silent.

"Can you hold me?" I sob.

"Yes, anything!" He rises from the bed as if jumping. He covers my shoulders with the blanket and wraps his arms around me the best he can.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, Michelle I love you more than anything."

"How can you love me? I'm a stupid whore."

"You're my wife and I love you. Michelle, look at me," I lift my glace and attempt to focus with watery eyes, "I love you. And nothing is ever going to change that."

"But you think I'm a whore."

"I don't think that."

"But you say it."

"You like it when I say that, right?"

"Yeah, I like it, but I'm still a whore. I don't want you to think I don't like it when we have sex. What type of wife would that make me?"

"Who cares? You'd still be my wife. Right?"

"Yeah, and you still love me?"

"Yes, I still love you?"

"Even if I'm a stupid whore?"

"Yes."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise. I love you."

"Can you cuddle with me? Please? I love you. You know that I love you? Right, you know that?"

We both collapse to the side and wrestle with the blanket until we are both warm beneath it. His sperm is squishy between us and feels good on my back. "Yes, I know you love me, don't worry about it, I know you do. It's ok, it's ok." He holds me close like when we first made love drying my tears.

"I'm sorry honey, I just get emotional. I don't know what to think sometimes. We only talk about this stuff if we're having sex. I don't want you to hate me. I don't know, maybe when we aren't having sex you don't like it."

"It's not like that. I just don't get to hear about it much. This is only the 4th time we've talked about it. I would talk about it more, but you won't."

"Well I'm not talking about it if she's home, forget about that."

"Why not?"

"What if she hears?"

"You make noise when we have sex."

"Colin, that's completely different. We're talking about really kinky stuff here."

"You think it's kinky?"

"Me getting fucked by other men Colin? Yeah, I think it's a bit kinky."

"It's just sex, it's natural."

"Well, do you want to just have sex with other women?"

"No, not at all, never."

"Good, because I'd fucking kill you." I take his hand into mine and squeeze tightly and affectionately. "You haven't, right?"

"Haven't what? Other women? Never. Not sense the first time I met you."

"Yeah? Met me?"

"I've been in love with you the second we met and I don't want anyone else, ok?"

"Good, because I really would kill you, like with a knife when you slept and you'd be dead."

"Don't worry, I know it."

"Then don't go sticking your dick in anyone else, ok?" I playfully bite thumb side of his hand.

"You have nothing to worry about."

Before silence has a chance to settle Colin asks, "Do you cum because he can reach your g-spot and I can't?"

I slap his hand with a bit of mirth, "Colin, do you know where my g-spot is?"

"What?"

"Seriously, you don't know? How is that possible?"

"It like behind you clit, right?"

"And I'm the one who can't measure things?"

"Ok, ok, but doesn't it go deeper when you're excited?"

"Don't your friends talk about this stuff?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like where a woman's g-spot is? How to hit it?"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"Because, nobody would ever admit they couldn't get a girl off. Everyone just pretends to know."

"You can't ask anyone?"

"It's be too embarrassing, no guy would do that."

"What a small wonder so many guys are no good at sex."

"Like me?"

"Stop it, I didn't mean it like that and you know it."

"But I can't get you off that way. If it's not because I can't reach then why?"

"It has more to do with how he put pressure on my g-spot."

"Size helps with that?"

"Yeah it helps."

"How?"

"Just the way he could cause more friction and the press it harder before relieving that, had to be in the right position too and I had to be feeling sexy, it's not easy to do, it's not something that's really happened to me a lot. You shouldn't feel bad about it."

"Did you squirt?"

"Yeah, a bit...it more just run down my legs...the hotel probably thinks I wet the bed."

"I'm sure they knew it was cum."

"It's not like semen you know? Closer to urine really."

"That's sick."

"You're the one asking about it." I remind him with a laugh while burying my head in his arms. "You're so good to me... Why can't I be that good? I feel like I'm not good enough for you."

"Why?"

"Because I cheat on you. You know this wasn't the first time. I really don't mean to, I just fall into bad habits and my own insecurity and then..."

"Stop it, I don't care. You don't have to be ashamed with me."

"That I cheat, really? Even when we're not having sex?"

"I mean it, really."

"Why is it just pillow talk then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that we only talk about it in bed, that's all."

"Do you want to do it again?"

"I didn't say that. I don't know what I'm saying. I just get confused."

Silence enters the room again but we are both wide awake. My eyes peek out from the comforter. The shadows cast by the yellow light from the hallway look sharp and fixed in time. I feel completely loved and the feeling is euphoric. Euphoric in a different way than an orgasm but certainly no less intense. We hadn't even really done me at all and I'm feeling an intense sexual high. He holds me so close. I feel so safe in his arms.

"If you want to sleep in, I can get her in the morning?" I offer.

"Where is she?"

"She went to Emily's, remember? But she has dance class in the morning so I can go and take her."

"Is Emily the blonde girl?"

"No, that's Emma, Emily is her new friend. She's been here a few times. She even slept over. You don't remember Emily? She says it like Amalie, but her name in Emily, she just wants to be different."

Settling in deeper and bringing our night of kinky pleasure to a close he kisses the top of my head and says, "Yeah, you can get her in the morning."

Waking early in the morning, the sperm, trapped between us, is still moist. It's icky on my back so I head straight for the shower. It's so peaceful and quiet in the house before the sun rises. An intense calm fills my senses, a calm lamented only for its fleeting nature. Taking my time in the shower the warm cascade falls down my hair and back. I bow forward, head down and watch the passing water as it appears to melt into the drain. That strange sense of sexual power has returned. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but I know that I feel it. I felt this before but it seems to be growing.

Stepping out of the shower, I stand naked in front of the mirror waiting for it to defog. I want to see myself clearly. I want to see if I look as sexy as I feel. There can't be anyone as bad, as depraved and as hot as me. I want to soak it in as the water drips from my skin. This needs to stop; my ego is in overdrive. Perhaps this is what validation actually feels like? I've chased validation my entire life, I'm not sure if I've ever felt it. And that feeling I couldn't put my finger on a moment ago becomes as clear as day; I feel in control.

"I feel control." My face is familiar but something has changed. "I'm in control." I repeat the sentiment. It's my eyes, they look somehow more narrow and focused. It's like my shoulders don't slouch one bit, my eyes are fixed, and from my feet up I stand in a feminine pose. A sense of boldness seems to be extending through my entire body from a place between my legs. I've never questioned my submissive nature, I've always been submissive. Not like whips and chains submissive, and I'd laugh at any man who referred to himself as a capital D dom, but I could probably count the number of times I've been on top for sex. I like having my hair pulled a bit and have a number of submissive tendencies. I don't know if this is what they mean when they equate brave with balls, nevertheless I'm feeling it from between my legs.

Careful not to wake him, I quietly clean up around the house. Perhaps it's to show I'm grateful, perhaps to try to show a sense of subservience, my head isn't allowing me to form the clear motivation. I just know it's important to clean. When he wakes up everything needs to be done just right for him. His favourite coffee cup needs to be clean, his bathrobe needs to be hanging in the right place and there can't be any clutter. I clean as a form of working meditation keeping all other thoughts from my mind until the sun comes up.

The details are so important and I can't miss any detail. He needs to be proud of me. It's the details and all in the details. My hair needs to be right, my make-up needs to be right, my clothes need to be right and my jewelry needs to be right. He can't have a let-down when he sees me. At the same time, I can't look like I've tried too hard. A short-sleeve, light blue, just past my knees, a little bit sexy dress should work. A wrap style, light and loose; certainly nothing formal. "Oh the ruffles look fabulous for today." I think while tying the knot at the waist and letting the fabric hang. Stylish and classy for a Saturday morning. The colours need to be light; dark is too aggressive and aggressive is not the look I'm going for. Lifts but not heels and a bra with a bit of lift make sure my breasts and butts have that perky flair. Perky and agreeable is the way to go, he needs to feel good about last night. Looking casually fabulous, I take one last look in the mirror and remind myself, "Remember to smile, it all falls apart without the smile."