Spouse Games

Let me get this straight up front. Almost every weekend, I play Fantasy Games with my husband. I do it because I want to, not because he has manipulated me or coerced me. I do it by my own choice, for my own pleasure. My husband does his part for his own pleasure. In playing our roles and crafting the situations, we keep both our individual libidos and our marital libidos in a proper state.

Please understand that we have never involved another person - directly, at least - in our game playing. It's just the two of us, playing roles. It's difficult and it's awkward and it's embarrassing at times, but it keeps the excitement in our marriage and it satisfies our respective sex drives, which are strong.

In a lot of ways, it's just the same type of pretend games we played so well as children, revisited in an adult format. Then, it was Cowboy and Indian; now, it's kidnapped settler housewife and domineering warrior. Once upon a time, it might have been June and Ward Cleaver playing perfect house; now, in fantasy play, June and Ward join a neighborhood swap club. It's fun, it's play, and it's just between me and my husband.....or the characters we play.

Now understand that my husband and I have done just about every real life, real person fantasy available. I have insisted on that. He has cooked and served me dinner and champagne whilst I languished in a candle-surrounded bubble bath and then taken his dessert from between my legs. I have greeted his return from work dressed only in spike heels, served him a martini, then given him head while he read the paper and watched the evening news. We have tied each other up, masturbated each other to climax in a {somewhat} public place and eaten all sorts of food from various body parts of each other. I have gone out braless and hard-nippled in public so his friends could ogle me. I make him masturbate in front of me. He returns the favor.

Acting and experiencing these face to face, real person fantasies has been great. We play our roles well. The sex afterwards has always been fulfilling and sometimes quite extraordinary. For some reason, though, my fantasies started getting, shall we say, a bit more risque. Perhaps it is because my husband and I had exhausted all the wonderful, romantic "massage and woo" aspects. Perhaps it was because of the bodice-ripper books I was reading at the time or because of some childhood experience forgotten except in my sub-conscious.

But I had a fantasy, and I don't know where it came from, but it wouldn't go away and I was masturbating myself to death over the scene.

I wanted to be blackmailed or something like that by Tony Donovan. A guy that I can't stand. I wanted to be in a situation where I had no choice and he had control over me and could do with me as he wanted. Tony Donovan. A guy that I can't stand.

I know exactly where the fantasy started. The office Christmas party, December 18,2000. We were all partying, and I had imbibed a bit more than my limit. My husband did not attend the party. Tony Donovan came up and asked me to dance. I was surprised, because Tony and I are bitter rivals within the company and we clash on most every issue. With less alcohol in my system, I would have declined Tony's offer to dance. Instead, I accepted and I was wicked. Tony came on to me strongly, and he was charming. I did not rebuff his advances. I flirted with Tony. I led him on. I acted like I wanted him. He was getting cocky. When the dance ended, Tony led me off the dance floor to a private area. He put one arm around me, bent to kiss me and put his hand on my breast. I jumped back from him and said, "What the hell are you doing, you jerk! Who do you think you are? You're never going to touch me like that." Tony was humiliated. I was triumphant.

Ever since that night, I've wanted Tony Donovan to pay me back. Call it Catholic guilt or whatever. I don't know why it happened, but my hand goes to my clit and my mind goes to Tony Donovan having his way with me in a situation where I have no choice. He makes me strip. He touches my nipples and smirks, "I thought I was never going to get to touch you like that." He has his way with me and enjoys every moment. He humiliates and dominates me. Dear God, how often that fantasy led me to incredible climax while masturbating!

Of course, in real life, I would never live that scene with Tony Donovan. We're bitter rivals. I despise him. But I wanted to experience the fantasy. I wanted to live the scene. I turned to my husband.

It's neat, but my husband and I can talk about sex. We talk about our fantasies and share honestly and openly, without fear of ridicule or anger. It's wonderful. Of course, we do it in the dark in bed while touching each other and after abusing one or more substances. Still, we do it. Sharing our true innermost fantasies was embarrassing at first, but we quickly learned that the pleasure derived outweighed the problems. I told my husband the Tony Donovan story. I told him the fantasy. I told him I wanted to live it out, in role-playing with him.

That means that my husband gets to be Tony Donovan. I get to play myself. We figured out a scene that makes my fantasy as real as possible without actually happening. We drank and smoked and did not look each other in the eye for a while, but we worked out the fantasy play.

The next night at 9:00 p.m., I was dressed in the same clothes I had worn to work that day: striped blouse, black knee-length skirt, white cotton panties, short heels. I was also blindfolded. I was also tied to the couch in my living room, with my arms tied behind me, my breasts poking out, and my ankles tied to the corners of the couch, spreading my legs wide.

I was in a pitiful state, but I had no choice.

You see, Tony Donovan had learned of my embezzling from the company. He had indisputable evidence. He was blackmailing me. He sneeringly and cruelly made me understand my choices. I was to be his, for whatever he wanted. I resisted. I wouldn't do it. I hated him. I tried to reason with him. I started to walk away. I had no choice. I hated to, but I begged him. I pleaded. He had me, and he knew it. I finally relented. I was his.

It was my fantasy, and that was the way I wanted it.

Tony sent a friend of his to tie me up. I was required to answer the door blindfolded. I blindfolded myself with a thick, dark, black silk fabric. The better for the suspension of disbelief. Tony's buddy never said a word. He led me to my living room couch and pushed me down on it. First, he tied my hands behind my back. Then he tied my elbows to each top end of the couch. He put a fluffy pillow behind my back, forcing my chest forward. Next, he tied my knees and my ankles to the feet of the couch, opening a wide pathway to my pussy. Basically, my pussy and my tits were thrust forward for the taking. I could feel Tony's friend leering at me, but he never touched me and he never said a word. I heard the door close as he left me for Tony. I waited in that lewd, vulnerable position for an interminable time, my mind racing and my body reacting. I was wet. I tried to rub my pussy along the couch so I could cum, but I could not. Good job of tying. I heard the door open.

"Well, look who's sitting her with her titties sticking out and her legs spread. That couldn't be my darling....bitch.... rival, could it?" The voice was Tony's. I swear, it sounded just like Tony. I could imagine his face through my blindfold. The triumphant look. The sneer of conquest. I came.

I heard footsteps walking from the door to the couch. Tony's footsteps. He's got me. It's payback time. I have no choice.

Suddenly, there are hands on my breasts, mauling them, squeezing them, juggling them up and down, toying with them. Then the fingers find my nipples and pinch hard and tweak and I hear, "Didn't some big self-centered bitch tell me that I was never going to get to touch you?" He slapped my breast outside my blouse and it stung. "So, I'm never going to get to touch you, huh?" Well, I'm touching you now and there's not a thing you can do about it, is there?"

I tried to resist, but he made me say all those things I did not want to say. Yes, I was a bitch. Yes, he had control. Yes, I had no choice. Yes, I was his. Yes, I was ashamed and humiliated.

Then Tony actually ripped apart the buttons of my blouse and grabbed my breasts through my bra. He treated them like objects and had his way with them. Then he unfastened the bra and started playing with my tits, focusing on the nipples, still arrogant in his touches. I was close to cumming, but couldn't. Then Tony {I swear it was his voice}, said, "You're mine, slut, for anything I want and I want a lot and you're going to pay." And then I came in waves. It was the situation as much as the stimulation.

Unexpectedly, my skirt was raised up and my panties were pushed aside and a hard dick was rammed inside my pussy. Inside my blindfold, I could see that Tony's cock was larger and harder than my husband's. He was a master cocksman and he fucked me skillfully and I came again and again, always to the refrain of Tony controlling and demeaning me. I felt him stiffen. He pulled out of my pussy and the next thing I knew, volumes of wet sticky liquid were shooting across my face, over the blindfold, into my hair. I heard the click of a camera and Tony said, "Maybe I'll show this one to your husband."

I totally lost track of time then, but I remember the events. That asshole Tony playing with my clit while making me admit what a teasing bitch I was. His untying my elbows and pushing me over his knees. The spanking, first with his hand and then with my own shoe. My cumming from getting spanked. His untying my legs and them making me spread them even wider on my own. Making me masturbate to climax with a cigarette lighter. Making me pose. Making me pinch my own nipples at any times my hands were idle. Fucking me in all positions, most of them uncomfortable to me. Fucking my mouth and shooting his load again and again on my face.

Tony Donovan thoroughly enjoyed having me as his sex toy and he made it clear that the best enjoyment was dominating a bitch rival who said "You'll never touch me." I was having the best sex of my life.

I was lolled, totally spent on the couch when Tony {I swear it was his voice} said, "Time to put you back in position, dear. Let your husband see what a slut bitch you are." Tony re-tied me to the couch in the same position as before. The only difference was that I was now totally naked, instead of wearing my office garb. There were a couple of other 'cosmetic' differences. My face was covered with Tony's cum. My bottom was red. My mouth and my pussy were sore.

Tony left me there, tied naked and spread-eagled. As I wondered what would happen when my husband came home, I thought of the time I had just experienced. It was everything I had imagined it would be. I had lived a fantasy and it was as real as it ever needed to be.

I probably sat for thirty minutes before I heard the doorknob turn. I had several mini-climaxes while sitting there and remembering Tony Donovan's domination of me. I heard the comforting voice of my husband say, "What the Hell is going on here?" He came over to me and removed my blindfold and gave me a searching look. He untied my hands and ankles. I hugged him.

He put his arm around me and said, "Tell me what happened."

I told him the story from the embezzlement to the blackmail to the punishment and the sex. I told him all of the terrible things that Tony Donovan had done to me. I told him how much I hated being helpless in the situation with Tony. My husband stroked my clit while we talked.

He smiled at me, took my hand and led me to our bedroom. We kissed and touched and tried to make love, but my husband could not get it up. I was not too disappointed. Tony Donovan had cum four or five times while playing with me, and the best my husband had ever done in one night was twice. I masturbated then went into a happy dream sleep.

Are you interested in what my husband and I look like, how long we've been married, our ages our educational background or our job history? Does it really matter? If you're a married person reading this, see me the way you want me to be. Petite or BBW or any point in between. Small, perky breasts or huge hooters. Five feet or six feet. Hair red, blonde, black, brunette or green. Nipples pink or brown. This is a wife - husband thing, not one of defined physical characteristics.

As for my husband, see his cock as small, medium or large. See him as handsome and charming or homely and coarse. See him the way you want him to be. This is a deal between a wife and a husband, and it's the game and the role-playing and the acting that matters.

Role playing is a happy medium between fantasy and reality. For married folks, it can be awkward, but the rewards are worth the embarrassment. Give it a try and never say anything negative about your fellow actor. I recommend darkness and alcohol {not too much} for your first forays.

Don't worry if you can't act. I'm going to teach you how! Believe me, I've had some experience. A couple of nights after Tony Donovan had his way with me, my husband advised me, "I want to fuck Anna Kournikova." Tennis, anyone?