Kiana chose her Halloween costume very carefully. It took a good two hours' worth of Internet browsing---Party City, Costumes-'R'-Us, Frederick's, several others---before she found just the right shade of lavender in the billowy pants and matching bodice that would accessorize nicely with the perfect veil to hide her face below her eyes. A copper arm decoration she already owned matched beautifully.
The sexy belly dancer costume was an effective stand-in for the garb that would identify her as Delilah to her husband's Samson. She would wear it well, her lithe frame and firm B-cup breasts ideally suited for sexy display as a vixen from a land of dunes and caves and massive temples. Her hazel eyes would be beguiling above the veil, and her brunette tresses would frame everything to perfection.
But perfection of color for her outfit was even more important.
The most important piece of the costume was purple, and everything else needed to coordinate in order to produce the best possible effect. Though her billowy pants would be tossed to the side so she could strap into the purple dildo she would use to fuck her sexy husband in the ass for the first time, Kiana wanted a vision of perfection burned into his brain when he took in the sight of her. The view, the smells, the tastes, the place, the time---she wanted everything to be memorably perfect when he got his initial look at the shaft jutting proud and erect beneath the color-coordinated bodice chosen specifically to complement the look of her faux cock. She wanted to be completely alluring and overwhelmingly sexy when her husband, Troy, saw her sporting the stiff dildo she would use to take them both on a new kind of sexy ride.
Anything less than perfection, anything less than a vision that would drive him crazy with lust to be taken, would not suffice. Troy was a true dear of a husband, lover, and life mate. Kiana loved him madly, even more now after five years of marriage. She still melted at the sexiness of his attractive face and gorgeous brown eyes. He took care of her, protected her, and loved her---all without a hint of chauvinism or condescension. That he was six-feet-plus of tall, dark, handsome, hard-bodied studmuffin who was nonetheless without an inflated ego and who knew how to treat a woman was, well, PERFECT. And he loved her just as much as she loved him.
Kiana would do nothing to jeopardize any of that. She desperately wanted Troy to be turned on by the idea of this new kind of sex play that she was aching to experience. Introducing it to him well was critically important.
Perfect outfit. Perfect timing. Perfect opportunity. Yet even with a perfectly executed seduction framing his introduction to strapon man-fucking, Kiana was worried that Troy would shy away, reject her idea.
She would die if that happened. Her husband was the most important thing in her world, and their sex life was a deliciously satisfying part---a BIG part---of that world.
It would be even better (was that possible?) if he surrendered his gorgeous ass to her stiff dildo for what she knew would be a turn-on like nothing she had yet experienced and which would provide the ride of their lives.
If only he would allow it.
Want it.
Ultimately . . . ask her for it.
She would do whatever it took to raise the odds that he would do just that.
***
Kiana Reston was a dentist with a successful practice of several years' standing. She had a confident air about her.
"Modern woman" and all that, her friends sometimes teased.
They were probably envious of their gal pal, her successful career, her handsome hubby. And no kids! Her married friends who were moms would prattle on about pre-school, the first-grade play, or the cub scout outing, and Kiana would smile, reflecting quietly as she tuned them out, remembering the time Troy brought flowers home "just because" and then, as soon as she had arranged them attractively in a glass vase on the counter, pushed her passionately against the refrigerator and devoured her mouth with his, slipping one hand into the waistband of her slacks in order to grip a firm asscheek and whisper into her ear that he was desperate to fuck her.
Or the time she teased him unmercifully while they strolled through the exhibit at the museum, she in her little black dress, he in his navy suit. "I'm not wearing panties, Troy," she had said, almost loudly enough for the couple standing in contemplation before the next painting to hear. "And my pussy is wet thinking about sucking your beautiful cock."
She lifted that little black dress as she sat in the passenger's seat on the way home, slipped a finger inside her wet pussy, and offered it to Troy to suck on as they waited at a stop light. "God, I want to fuck you," she said, fascinated as her finger slid across his lips and into his mouth.
The honk from the car behind them cameβ--what?β--five seconds after the light changed? Ten?