A Tale of Two Dildos

A loving wife helps her husband explore desires he's been afraid to acknowledge.

The sex is strictly hetero and they are both over 18.

Thanks to LarryInSeattle for editing.

I hope you enjoy the story and find time to comment.

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"Looks like you could use a hand?"

I claimed later I had yelped in surprise. Perhaps it was a bit more than a 'yelp' but it would be a gross exaggeration to claim, as my wife does, that I had "screamed like a little girl."

Rebecca should have been at work, not standing in our bathroom. At the sound of her voice, I had first jumped, then tried to turn to hide what I was doing. That was silly of course; she'd already seen. Even more embarrassing, my left foot slipped on the wet tile and I nearly landed on my ass. I shot one arm out to steady myself. As I did so, I had a vision of being one of those guys that shows up in an emergency room claiming to have slipped in the shower and ended up with a shampoo bottle up their ass. I always found that story to be unlikely. For one, shampoo bottles don't come in any shapes I find enticing. Although, in a pinch, it has been stated that necessity is the mother of invention.

In this particular instance, while the slip in the shower part of the story would have been true, the shampoo bottle would not have been. I had been working a dildo in my ass when my wife startled me, not a shampoo bottle, a green banana, a cucumber or any other vaguely cylindrical object of desperation. I'm not trying to claim it would have been any less humiliating to have to go to the ER with a dildo buried in my ass. My luck had held, at least in so far as the dildo fell to the floor where it lay, quivering for a moment as if in its death throes. Nope, I didn't fall and the dildo wasn't lodged somewhere in my colon. It simply laid there, a testament to the depravity I had been hiding from my wife.

"Have you been going through my drawers?"

Her tone was sharp, accusatory. The accusatory tone was expected, however, the question was not.

"What? Your drawers? No."

"How'd you find my dildo then?" She pointed at the purple dildo lying on the shower floor. She looked exactly like she did when she was pointing out a pile of doo to Cheeves, our Yorkie, and telling him he was a "bad dog".

"I didn't find 'your' dildo. That's mine," I stammered, blushing and ashamed at being forced into self-incrimination. There is no Fifth Amendment in a marriage.

"You have a dildo?"

"Yes," I admitted in a sheepish voice, but then had an epiphany. "Wait a sec, Rebecca, if you think I found your dildo then you have one too."

It was her turn to blush.

"Have you been using a dildo when I'm not around? Is our sex life that bad?"

"No," she replied quickly. "It's not bad," she paused. "But it has gotten a little 'routine' don't you think?" My wife was quick and tough, tougher than I, certainly. "Besides," she continued. "I had that before we got married, before we dated for that matter."

"Really?" My embarrassment rapidly shifted from being depraved to being that of a shitty lover. "I thought we used to do pretty well in the sack, back when we had time to do more than eat, sleep, and shower."

We were interns, four months in and eight unimaginably long ones to go. The work rules you see discussed in the media are a joke. We hardly saw each other and often as not, what we saw was the other comatose with drool dangling from the corner of the mouth. In medical school, even during the last two clinical years, we jumped each other's bones four or five times a week. We might be tired and crawl into bed intending to sleep, but then her butt would touch my leg or my hand her boob and bam! Off we went. Now, I was learning that even then she had a back-up latex lover hidden under her socks.

"We are," she emphasized 'are', "good in bed. Do not, I repeat, do NOT start that fragile male ego crap. Even then you weren't home every night and when I masturbate, I like something in my pussy besides air. That okay with you?" she finished with a snap of her jaws and a flash of heat behind her eyes.

"I don't give a shit if you masturbate or how you masturbate. Fuck, some nights we're so tired we masturbate together. Big deal. Why didn't you go ahead and use your dildo? Why were you hiding it?"

"Me? What about you?"

"Uh-huh," I said shaking my head and starting to get pissed. "You aren't turning this around on me. A chick using a dildo is no big deal. No one is going to think you're a freak. A dude fucking himself with a dildo is fucking weird. Everybody would think I'm gay or something."

"Are you?"

"Am I gay? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"So, is that a 'no', you aren't gay?"

"No!"

I tried to push past her, pissed, but she put an arm around my belly.

"I believe you. I never thought you were gay. So what's the big deal?"

I was furious to realize I had tears in my voice. "The big deal? Oh I don't know, maybe that I'm a fucking whack job that likes to shove things up my ass."

"So? Again, what's the big deal? You think you're the only guy who likes that? I doubt it. Come on."

"I have to get to the hospital. If I'm late, Miller will have my balls. God, I hate that fucker."

Rebecca grabbed my face and kissed me, hard.

Mike, baby, RELAX." She stepped past me and picked up the dildo and chuckled. "Don't you think it's some sort of a cosmic sign that, without knowing it, we both bought the same dildo?" She kissed me again. "Relax, neither of us is on call tonight and we have tomorrow off, our first Saturday in two months. I know we'd planned on cleaning up the place but I think we can come up with something better to do. Hurry up, go impress that fucker Miller and I'll see you tonight. I'm in clinic today so I shouldn't be too late."

Miller, was on my ass all day. Nothing unusual about that. He was a bitter old fuck who knew he wasn't going anywhere and hated anyone who might have a future. Today, I didn't mind the old dickwad. His bullshit kept my mind off the shower fiasco. Rebecca was already home.

"Hungry?"

"Not really."

"I made a salad. Go take a shower. We'll eat, have a glass of wine and relax." She kissed me softly. "Go on. Hurry up. I am hungry." The way she said the latter made me look at her. She met my gaze, all innocent looking. That only made me more suspicious.

I showered. My mind kept wandering back to the look on her face and the way her lips felt on mine. The way she tasted, part toothpaste, part wine, all Rebecca. I kept my hands off my dick but I was hard as a rock just thinking about her. I hadn't finished stroking one out this morning. I had been right on the edge when her voice had shattered my jones. I realized my balls ached.

I toweled off and threw on an old Rolling Stones tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. I did a double-take when I caught sight of my wife. She had the small table for two, the only thing we could fit in our 'dining area', set with a tablecloth and our wedding china. A single candle fickered in the breeze from the open window. Two plates of salad and two glasses of wine sat waiting. It was charming and romantic and I loved her for it but that was not the cause of my double take.

Rebecca was naked. I've never understood how I managed to convince a woman like Rebecca to marry me. She was way out of my league. I'm not hideous or anything. I don't wear a bag on my head when I go out in public. I'm okay looking. My uncles, on both side of the family, are an inspiration when it comes to diet and exercise. My genetic background suggests a strong kinship with the walrus. I stayed trim and so far have resisted the urge to eat what every crap I could shovel down my gullet as I ran down the hall. I was okay. But Rebecca, however, was a fucking drop dead gorgeous knockout and she didn't seem to believe it.

She thought her boobs were too small. They were perfect, firm honeydew-size white globes with the most delicious looking rosy brown nipples that God had ever painted. She was trim but with the curves a woman was born with. Her pussy was smooth except for a small patch above her clit that was trimmed so close to the skin it looked more like a smudge than hair. Her skin was porcelain white which made her raven hair glow. She was a derm resident, no sun for her. I often wondered if she had sold her soul to the devil for that skin. I've never seen a woman with such jet black hair who didn't have a mustache and nearly as much hair on their arms as me. It was long after the episode of the dildo in the shower that she confessed she'd had the hair on her arms and legs lazered off in college.

Standing there, naked, a rectangle of light from the window spotlighting her tummy and pussy, she was so beautiful that I forgot to breathe. At the moment, I understood that old Hollies' song, except I didn't even need air to breathe. All I needed was the sight of my wife to sustain me. I stood, mute, as she crossed the small space that separated us.

She grasped the bottom of my shirt and I let her pull it off over my head. She paused for a moment, shirt still over my head, my arms stretched toward the ceiling and teased my nipples with her tongue before pulling the shirt the rest of the way off. She tucked her fingers under the top of my shorts and lowered herself, graceful as a falling leaf. She tugged the shorts over my cock and let them fall around my ankles. She tilted her head forward and I stifled a groan, afraid I'd cum the moment her lips touched the head of my cock but her lips didn't touch me. She stopped and teased my cock by blowing her soft hot breath over the head.

"Come on, baby," she whispered as she took my hand. "We need to eat something."

I ate an entire salad and couldn't recall taking a bite, couldn't recall chewing or swallowing. I drank a glass of wine without tasting it. It may just as well had been turpentine. Rebecca's bare feet rested atop my own. My cock pulsed and throbbed and leaked beneath the table, aching to feel her touch but she contented herself with brushing her toes over the tops of my feet. The meal could not have taken long but it seemed like an eternity before she rose and beckoned me to follow. I was happy to. The vision of the way her ass moved as she walked was better than any dessert.

She motioned for me to wait. I watched, intrigued, as she spread an old blanket, one we kept for picnics, atop the bed.

"Lie down on your back babe."

As I made myself comfortable, Rebecca reached under the bed and pulled out a small basket covered with a hand towel. She knelt on the bed beside me and sat the basket near the head of the bed. I craned my neck to see what she was doing. She pulled the towel off and I half expected her to offer me a slice of warm bread. She reached into the basket and when she withdrew her hand, it clutched a bottle of lube. She squirted a palmful into her hand, closed the bottle, dropped it on the bed, and then rubbed the lotion over both hands.

She wrapped her hands around the head of my cock and slid them down the shaft as my ass clenched. I think if she'd stroked me even a single time more I would have cum but she didn't. Her hands continued downward, cupping my balls and then probing below them. I tensed. She bent over her legs to kiss my belly.

"Relax, baby. Spread your legs for me."

"But..."

"Ssh, go on."

I pulled my knees up and let them fall apart, opening myself to her slippery fingers. I shivered when her fingertips brushed over my asshole. She began to dance her fingers over my pucker, not pressing, simply tracing and playing. I found myself raising up, wanting more, giving her more room. When she pressed with a finger. I didn't protest. I pushed back and felt her finger push past my sphincter. She might be a derm resident but she knew where my prostate was. She pressed and a gout of clear fluid swelled the drop of precum clinging to my slit. It stretched, snapped and fell to my belly. Rebecca, my beautiful wife, leaned forward, placed her lips around the puddle, and slurped my essence into her mouth, never taking the probing finger from my ass. She laid the side of her face against my belly, stuck out her tongue, and began to massage my prostate. I could feel the fluid make its way up my cock to cling to the tip before surrendering to her tongue.

She sat back up and reached above me. She flipped the top open on the lube and squirted some more into the palm of the hand with a finger inside my ass. She worked her finger in and out, pulling more of the lube into my ass. A second finger, then a third made the crossing into my ass. More precum dripped to my belly. I had already leaked as much fluid as I sometimes jizzed, or so it seemed to me at the time. With her free hand, she wiped up the precum and held her fingers to my lips. We'd never done anything like that before but I didn't hesitate. I raised my head and engulfed her fingers with my mouth. I had tasted my cum on occasion. I didn't hate it nor did I love it enough to make a habit of it. If I had I could have saved a lot on laundry. You can get away with wearing a tee shirt more than one day as long as it doesn't have dried jizz on it.

I sucked myself off her fingers. She smiled and her tongue replaced her fingers. All the while, her fingers probed my ass. I was ready to cum, more than ready. I started to reach for my cock but Rebecca stopped me with a touch of her hand on my arm and a shake of her head. She reached above me. When I tilted my head, I saw her pull my purple dildo come out of the basket.

When she straightened up, she looked into my eyes and held it out to me.

"Wet it for me, please babe. My other hand is busy." As she spoke, she pushed deeper into my ass.

I wasn't sure what she wanted at first then I frowned. I didn't mind her sticking her precum slicked fingers in my mouth but this was different. It might be purple, but the dildo was shaped like a cock. I wasn't crazy about having it in my mouth. Was she testing me? Did she think I really was gay?

In that spooky way she had of reading my mind, she whispered, "Trust me, I know you aren't gay. I just need it a little wet." When she finished speaking, she put the head of the dildo in her mouth and then licked around the flare of the head. I reached for her hand and pulled it toward me.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. Let me." And with no further thought or worry, I put as much of the thing in my mouth as I could, allowing my spit to wet it. Rebecca was not just my wife, she was my life. There was almost nothing I would refuse her. She was well aware of that and never took advantage of her power, another reason to love her. She leaned over my legs, the firm mounds of her ass rising off the bed.

"Put it in my pussy Mike. Please."

I twisted my shoulders so I could see her snatch better. The cleft of her sex glistened between her legs. My eyes followed her slit upward to the pink rosebud of her ass. I'd always wanted to play with her ass, with my fingers, with my tongue. I'd always wanted to fuck her ass but I'd never whispered a word of my desires to her. I didn't care how much anal porn was on the internet. I couldn't imagine a woman liking that. It never occurred to me that I liked it, why wouldn't some women?

I took the dildo out of my mouth and gently began to rub the head up and down my wife's lovely wet pussy. She moaned a soft "umm, that's right" and pushed her rear toward me. I made sure I had the angle correct and with a firm push the head of the dildo disappeared into her pussy. I didn't have to do anything more. She thrust herself back onto the purple shaft until my fingers brushed against her pussy lips. She held herself there, swiveling her hips with the dildo deep inside her, before pulling away from it. When her pussy released it, it was shiny with her love juices.

She twisted and held out her hand. "Let me have it."

"Don't you want me.."

"Not yet baby. Hand it to me."

I swear I thought she was going to use it on herself. My stupidity can be boundless. It wasn't until her fingers left my ass and began to add the lube to the pussy-slicked dildo that I realized what she intended to do.

"You don't have to do that."

She glanced at me over her shoulder. "I want to."

"I'm afraid I'm not clean enough."

"It'll be fine. I put the old blanket under us. Raise up again."

I did as she asked. I was nervous and I was afraid of making a mess but despite all that, I wanted this. She scooted down, so that she was almost lying now. She rested one elbow between my legs and transferred the dildo to that hand. With her other hand, she lifted my balls up. I didn't tense when the head of the dildo touch my asshole. I'd been using the thing when I was alone for weeks. I knew my ass could handle it. Even so, there was a twinge as it entered.

"Mmm, that feels good," I whispered. I wanted her to know she was doing everything right but my honesty surprised me. I'd never imagined I would confess to my wife it felt good having something in my ass. But it did.

She continued to push and pushed down until the fake latex balls pressed against my ass.

"That doesn't hurt?" she whispered and I could hear surprise in her voice.

"No, baby," I reassured her. "It doesn't hurt."

"Do I need to hold it there?"

"No, I can let my butt rest on the bed. It'll stay."

"Okay," she said, then surprised me by hopping off the bed. "Be right back."

She ran across the hall to the bathroom and I could hear her washing her hands. When she came back she was drying them on a towel which she tossed on the foot of the bed. She grabbed her laptop off the bedside table and stepped over to the small TV atop the dresser. She plugged a cable into the laptop and powered everything up before hopping into bed with the remote. When she changed the input to HDMI, she was kneeling by my side. On the screen, a video of a man lying on his back appeared. He used his hands to hold his knees up toward his chest. Between his legs a woman knelt. Around her waist she wore a strap-on. She steadied the strap-on with one hand, pressed it against the man's asshole and began to fuck him.

"Where did you find that?" I asked, shocked.

"On the internet. Where else? It's called pegging." She turned to grin at me. "I told you, you weren't that unique."

I forgot about the dildo in my ass, fascinated by what I was seeing. Was Rebecca trying to tell me she wanted to try that? I didn't have to ask myself if I wanted her to.

"You want to try that sometime?" she asked, once more reading my mind.

"You wouldn't feel weird? Wearing something like that?"

"Why should I? It's just the two of us. Who the fuck cares? Jesus you wrap yourself into knots, babe. Relax."

"Where do you get something like that?"

She rolled her eyes and smack the top of my leg. "Internet. Don't be a dope. Where did you get the thing you have up your ass? Macy's?"

I began to move my hips up and down, letting the dildo slide in and out of my ass a little. I reached for my cock but she pushed my hand away.

"Uh-huh," she commanded. She reached above me and returned with another purple dildo. This one I assumed was her own. She handed it to me.

She threw one leg over my head and I was treated to the sight of her swollen, wet pussy. She leaned over my belly but instead of taking my cock in her mouth as I had hoped, she reached between my legs and began to move the dildo in and out of my ass.

"Eat my pussy, Mike. Eat my pussy and fuck me with that fake cock. Fuck me while I fuck you baby."

I wanted to do as she asked but first I dropped the dildo on the bed and pulled her onto my face with both hands. I buried my face in her cunt. I couldn't breathe. My nose pressed against the sweetness of her rosebud while my mouth suck at her pussy. I released her pussy, retrieved the dildo, and licked it before working it into her cunt.