"But honey, trust me. It's going to be so fun, so sexy, I know you're going to love it. Do this one thing for me just because you love me. You do love me, right?"
There it was. The "if you love me you'll_________" trap. Fill in that blank as you see fit. Do the ridiculous honey-do list on what should be a restful Saturday afternoon. Learn to waltz. Spend the summer building a ridiculous dog house. Shave your body, put on garters and hose, and let your wife tie you to a sturdy chair and have her way with you.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Honey-dos always suck. The dog house is embarrassing. There are better dances than the waltz. Then there comes the "tie you up while wearing women's undergarments thing." Being tied up at the mercy of your wife of 12 years may have a certain allure for some folks, but giving up control of myself totally was a definite downer. Shaving my body wasn't off the charts, I had been competitive both as a cyclist and as a swimmer when I was just a little younger, so it was only since I had stopped competing when my kids were born that my body hair had been allowed to grow at all. But it seemed like an awful lot of fuss for a simple roll in the hay. And then there was the whole garter and hose thing. Now some guys get into that, but I never had a vision of myself as anything but 100% male beefsteak.
Seriously, I'm not bragging when I say there is no feminine side to me, at least physically. Mentally, ok, I have a sensitive nature. I like puppies, cried at the end of Ole Yeller and The Champ. Oh yeah, and I still can't hear the music from ET without wishing Elliot could have gone along at the end. But I spent years on the bike and in the pool. And since I still run triathlons a couple times a year, I kept the fit, hard body. At forty two, my shoulders are broad, my legs strong, and a 6' 2" frame with a 44" chest and a 30 inch waist is a source of pride. So no, I can't envision garters and lacy things on my legs.
What I can envision is sex with my wife. She is six years younger, and loves taunting me with terms of endearment like "Old Fart," has gotten the kids calling me "Father Moses" and my biking club knows me as "Methusala." It's in good fun, and I take it well. I even had a cycling jersey made up in fluorescent green with "Methusala" printed on the back, so all those young bucks would know exactly who they finished behind. But that young little wife of mine can turn some heads. She has grown some nice curves as she has aged, but there isn't much junk in her trunk, and her smile as been known to melt mortal men.
She was using that weapon on me now. "If you REALLLLLY love me you'll do it." What's a guy to say? Only one conceivable answer will do. "Yes dear." And you'd better not make it sound a bit snide or sarcastic. When she says that, she is going out on a limb, risking her standing as your partner. That's her ultimate bet, her all in, she needs this hand, so if you love her, you give it up. I love Nina. I agreed.
Amidst the razors and the Nair there were professions of love and how much this meant. There were promises of favorite dinners and months of wild sex to pay me back for this weekend.
"Weekend! I didn't remember anything about a weekend?"
She had conveniently forgotten to tell me this would be more than a mere roll in the hay. The kids went to the country with her parents, and would be away until Sunday night. Yeah baby, Nina had a weekend of fun and games planned. She got me shaved and dressed in my sissy garb, then asked me to go down to the kitchen and make some lunch. She even had high heels that actually fit me and a frilly apron. I looked ridiculous. I wanted to stop. I couldn't walk in those fucking shoes. I not think she could either. She never went for the sexy shoes, aways voting for stylish comfort.
"Look. This means a lot to me. I've been planning a big fantasy weekend for weeks. I need you to do this for me. When we are done, I will do anything you ask. Anything. I know I will owe you....and if it all goes nicely, I will want to pay you...big time."
"Put that in writing."
It was an inside joke. Years ago, her Dad had forced us to sign a prenup. His brother had been badly burned in an ugly divorce, so he was sensitive to how easily a trusting partner can be burned if their trusted partner turns evil. I remember telling him at the time that I would never hurt his daughter, I loved her too much. His response?
"Put that in writing."
Ever since then, when one of us asked the other to go out on a limb, to trust, to take a leap of faith, the other one would giggle to put it in writing. And like the prenup, we always did. So I removed my body hair, dressed in lingerie, and headed down to cook. I can cook. And I did.
Did I tell you Nina is a nurse? Well thats her gig. But she never went to work looking like she did at lunch. The hem on her white dress was so short I thought she was missing a skirt. She Could wear heels, apparently, and they were brilliant white to match the dress and the lacy stockings held up by her own red garters. A deeply plunging neckline revealed more red lace cradling her beautiful breasts. She was made up, her hair done fancy, with a red nurses cap on top. Remember my dress? Nothing covering my baby maker? Well, that meant nothing to hide my appreciation for my wife.
"Damn woman, forget what I cooked. I think I need you for lunch."
"NO!"
Ok, I was startled at her tone. But I could forgive her in this state. After all she was sex on heels and I was definitely prepared to deal with that.
"The patient will refrain from sexual advances towards his caregiver. Now sit and eat lunch."
I sat. I ate. I stared. I drooled. My dick remained hard as steel.
When we finished, she slipped me a paper. She had put it in writing. I was to play her game unconditionally for the weekend. In return, she would never ask me to do this again. There would be things I would like, and things I might not, but I had to promise to remember she loved me tremendously, above anything else. She needed this to happen, and would do anything I asked in return when it was over. Anything. No limits.
No limits. I should have realized then that she had something less than pleasant planned, but my dick was hard, she looked amazing, and I trusted her. I had no inkling how far she would go. I followed her upstairs. She blindfolded me. She reassured me that she would not hurt me, as she bound my ankles to the chair. She told me how she loved me as she bound my wrists. She told me she had been thinking of so many sexy fantasies over the sat few months, she wanted to play them out. Did I like dressing girlie? Did I like being bound?
She cinched a belt that kept my torso locked in place, and two more to strap my shoulders down. My knees were bound with a lycra strap. I could pull them apart, but not for long. Then came the ultimate, a red rubber ball was shoved into my mouth, and strapped behind my head. I was helpless.
" I am going to play with you a lot, but not today. That comes tomorrow when I start making it all up to you. Today, I am going to tease you, bring you to the edge of your self control, then leave you to recover without satisfaction of any release."
I didn't like this. I didn't like being out of control. I didn't like being helpless. I don't like the word torture, and thats what his felt like. I didn't like her tone. She sounded evil, not like my partner at all.
"This weekend is all about me. I'm not turning back for any reason. I'll make the rest of our lives all about you, but this is what I need. So we're going to start by playing doctor and nurse. You are the patient. I am the nurse. We will start the exam."
She took my blood pressure. She took my temp. She listened to my lungs. She wrote my vital statistics on a triage form she had brought from work. She started an IV with a saline drip. "You'll need the fluids." She checked my eyes, and pronounced them sad. "Tough shit," she said. "This isn't about you."
The rectal exam was the worst. She released the Lycra, propped my knees apart and inserted a probe up my ass. She milked my prostrate emptying my balls. She left me sitting there in my own spunk with the Lycra replaced.
"I'm ready for you doctor," she called out.
She stared straight into my eyes with a smirk as her colleague, Jeff from the hospital strode in. He wore scrubs and a lab coat. He too looked at me with a smirk, and declared there was nothing he could do with me. I was an inferior specimen, with a small dick that obviously leaked cum uncontrollably. He would much prefer to examine the nurse.
I don't know what she expected to see in my eyes. But the smirk faded, and there was even a touch of...shame? She stopped looking my way. He took her in his arms and I felt my heart and soul break. He kissed her. She kissed him back with a passion that should only have been for me. I stared straight at her. He broke the kiss and came over to me.
"I get it," he said. "Lots of guys have this fantasy, watching your woman with another guy. The only people who will ever know are right here. I can keep your dirty little secret. Actually I can do,anything for a hot piece of ass like her. So if you want, later maybe we'll let you loose, and you can play out the game by licking us clean, or serving us drinks."
If only I were free. I would beat the shit out of this pretty boy and kick his nuts so hard they'd relocate to the back of his throat. I think he read that in my eyes, or something like it. His confidence broke and he stumbled backwards. The smirk disappeared.
But he recovered as Nina helped him up, and proceeded to relieve him of his clothes. His cock sprang to life.