It is a couple weeks before your March 18 birthday, you are sitting in the car waiting for me to drop a proposal into the mailslot inside the post office. You pass the time, as you often do, cruising 'sites of interest' on your phone, noting places you want to visit in private on the large-screen TV connected to our desktop at home.
>>>>>>
'LEASE MY WIFE'
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You see that title on one of your favorite sites. Sites you think are your secrets. You tag it to look at later, as you see me already coming out of the Post Office. I told you it wouldn't be long.
You think back to your favorite stories from your 'secret' sites, ones of wives whose loving husbands auctioned, sold, rented their wives from desperate need for cash, for charity, as ordered by superiors, as proof of their submission, as fulfillment of fantasies. The idea of that - well, check yourself now, wet from just seeing those three words. You tap your phone off and then lift and twist your hips to put it in your pocket, as I open the door and slide in under the wheel.
I tap your ass, twisted up and straining your tight jeans. You flash a strange look at me that I can't read. You sit back down, hurriedly adjust your jeans, t-shirt and hair and then click your seatbelt. I watch you, perplexed. You notice my questioning expression.
"Everything OK?"
"Sure, like I said, just needed to drop it in the slot."
"Right."
"You OK?"
"Y-yeah."
"You look a little flushed. Do you have a fever?" I reach out to touch your forehead.
"No. I'm fine. Really."
"OK."
I drop the car into reverse and pull out of the PO parking lot, headed home.
Back just after Christmas, I'd promised you a special surprise for your birthday, it was then three months away. You'd tried to find out what I had planned without being too annoying, though you did ask every week or so, once whining so much about it that I gagged you and left the gag in for a day. You didn't whine about it again, but did ask several more times.
I wasn't angered at this, rather, I enjoyed it and played the game. You guessed and suggested and bargained, but I gave no sign, though sometimes informing you that you would never guess and increasing the mystery in any way I could.
I got the impression you were more interested in the game, trying to peel back my plan, than offering any resistence. And that was fine. I knew you would never guess, that you would be totally taken by surprise, that if you did know you would resist (actually, pretend to resist, you'd fall in with anything I requested), and that you would be absolutely beside yourself when you finally found out - when my promise was fulfilled.
I KNEW that.
Come the first part of February - on the second, as it happened - one element of my plan over which I had no control occurred - a very heavy snowfall. Much heavier than I would have designed, but much more appropriate than I could have hoped. I watched all night, making my plans. Glad I'd had the DuraTrac tires put on the Gladiator and smiled, knowing what the morning would bring.
I jump out of the warmth under the quilts and comforter, startling you awake, as soon as I am awake enough to move. I have to check. Yes. Yes, oh yes. Snow, and lots of it. At least a foot. Lokul Frosti has smiled on me and granted last night's wish. Maybe even too much, the Jeep only has a ten inch clearance - it'll be a hard push all the way. They haven't even plowed the paved roads yet. Well, maybe they will by the time we actually roll out. But it will be all virgin white before we get where we're going.
I make coffee and fry up a cheddar omelet with a bit of soy sauce and a touch of maple syrup whisked into the eggs with a glup of milk. I arrange it all attractively, the French press of coffee, two Old 66 truck-stop mugs, and the omelet on one of your Mom's big white hotel plates. I carry it on the breadboard - the only thing like a tray that I can find.
I carry it up to you and find you still snuggling deep into warmth. The snowshine streaming in through the window lights a rectangle on the ceiling above the bed. I hadn't noticed that before, maybe my senses are heightened by my knowledge of THE PLAN.
You sit up and catch the blankets as they slip off and you snug them up around your neck. You tilt your head and smile at me, at the rare surprise, me bringing you breakfast. I look around to find a place to set the board, hadn't thought about that. The bedside tables are too small - and I'd have to move a lamp. The dresser is too far away. I could drag a chair...
"Hey, how about here," you chuckle, both hands patting your legs, now outstretched, and offering them as table.
"Yeah, how about," I nod and set the board of our breakfast on your legs.
I lean down to kiss and you reach up. I comb my fingers through your hair and stroke your cheek through your jet silk. You press deeper into my mouth and reach a hand up to touch my face.
I look down at you and smile, "I really,... YAAaaeauhihhhh!"
I stand up fast enough to get dizzy and start beating my thighs.
"What?! What the hell? Wha... oh, shit."
I had been scalded by the coffee which spilled when the board was tipped when your legs shifted when you reached up to lovingly stroke your husband's face.
"Quick, we gotta strip the bed and tend to the quilts. And, oh, damn, the comforter, we'll... Oh dear, what about you?"
I was slapping and rubbing my thighs and rushing to the bathroom when I heard your concern.
I did not answer.
I was, naturally, still naked, no need to put on clothes when...
Oh, crap, hot coffee is HOT. My thighs are scalded. Good things my legs are long. Couple inches lower and... well, lets say plans would change.
I stand at the sink, scooping cold water out and onto my thighs, water splashing everywhere.
You come in, wearing your flannel toss, start running water into the tub and walk out. I think that's a good idea and step into the tub, slowly lowering myself into the tepid water. I begin to feel a little relief.
"What the hell? What are you doing?"
I look up perplexed and see you standing in the door way with the comforter balled up in your arms.
"That is for this. We gotta soak this before the coffee sets."
I nod.
"Really."
I nod.
"Get out now!"
I nod and stand up, dripping as I stand and watch you carefully introduce the comforter to the water. Damn, am I feeling neglected and ignored.
You pat the top of the comforter to get it all in the water, then turn to me and see that I am kinda steamed. And not just by the coffee. You stand, the toss parts to hang open from your naked shoulders, framing your tits. You put your hands on my shoulders. You guide me back to sit on the toilet and kneel between my legs. Even though my thighs still burn, my cock twitches - sure, like it could get hard right now.
You reach up, an arm on either side of my head, your tits against my face, and almost immediately pull back.
Disappointment.
You hold the flower pot with the aloe plant, which you set on the floor beside you. You break off a... what are those? Leaves? Fronds? Whatever... you break one off and, taking the broken end between your teeth, split it lengthwise. That looks sexy and, another twitch makes the attempt to raise my mast.
You begin to rub the wet and spongy inside of the aloe over my scalded thighs - ahhhhhh, that feels really good.
You do that for a while, until the juice is all pressed out, then you pluck another and continue the cooling, soothing application. You lean forward, elbows high behind you, and kiss my cock.
Ok, didn't expect that.
You take that limp tube into your mouth and swirl it around with your tongue, guiding it, pressing it against your teeth, the roof of your mouth. And you suck. And blow. And hummm and do all that stuff you know I like and... really? now?... I DO erect.
A surprise to me, but, hey - you're really good.
You get me stiff; You keep me stiff. You work your magic and after a while - I still don't come.
"You gonna come? I'm gettin' kinda tired here."
"Oh, yeah. Your great, babe, but I'm just not happening."
"Cool. How are your legs?"
"Ahhh... they still feel hot, but... I'll make it."
"Great. I'm glad. Now, I'm gonna go make coffee. You clean up and come in."
And you're off to the kitchen.
I come in and you're just finishing, pressing down on the plunger. Your toss is hanging at your sides, most wonderfully framing your body, outlining your torso in red. Beautiful. Your breasts sway with your effort. I step up behind you and press against you, forcing you against the counter. I reach around and weigh and fondle your tits, tapping your nipples with my thumbs.
"I see you're feeling better."
"Yeah. You can't keep a good man down."
"So I see," you say rotating your ass against my now stiff cock.
"Mmmmmm. Ahhhhh yes."
As we sit drinking coffee from another pair of 66 mugs - I really like them and started collecting them back in college. We've got a couple dozen.
As we sit drinking coffee I gaze on you, watch you, admire you... and smile, thinking of the plan.
Today is the day. It is perfect. Blessed and ordained from on high. Time was creeping on and getting short, I was beginning to worry that I'd have to forgo the best part and just do a meager, average thing, but, no... we got snow.
"Get ready to go."
You look up, surprised.
"Go? Where?"
"Today is the day for an adventure I have planned."
"Adventure?"
"Yes. Adventure. You like adventure."
"Well, that is true. What do you have planned?"
"THAT is a secret... for now. The first step is to get you dressed."
You smile wryly. "Dressed. I see. So this is a dress-up adventure."
My turn to wryly smile, "Well, not exactly. Come on up."
You follow me up the stairs and into the bedroom, then on into the bath.
"First, shave."
"You haven't shaved in all the time, I've met you."
"And I'm not shaving now. You are. Well, I'm going to shave you."
You smile, a cute little giggle floats from your mouth. "Really?"
"Really."
I pull you by the arm and set you on the edge of the tub. I push your thighs wide, you don't resist. You watch me carefully as I go to the medicine cabinet and extract the necessary tools.
I kneel between your legs and pinch up a bit of your hair, the skin of your fat pud lifting up with it. I clip that hank - if a hank can be that small - I clip that hank off close to the skin.