The Wish Jar

Let me tell you about a game that my husband and I play. You see, we’ve always enjoyed reading the stories in your magazine, and have had many fun evenings reliving the games that your other readers have told.

Our story began innocently enough, with something that we call the wish jar. Like many couples in our area, we were married with no children. My day consisted of cleaning the house, buying the groceries and preparing the meals. We had been married about three years, and had a great life together, which included wonderful sex. One day, after reading an advice column in the newspaper, I took a large jar and put a list of projects that I wanted my husband Don to work on around the house. Don works hard during the week, and you can probably guess how he reacted to having his weekends scheduled with home bound projects.

Nevertheless, Don agreed to the jar of projects on one stipulation. I had to agree to only put ten items in the jar at one time, and he got to put ten items in as well. Only once all the items were removed, would we replace them with additional notes.. No note could take more than the weekend to complete, and once a note was drawn it had to be completed before the next note was picked. It came as no surprise to me that Don would have some type of individual stipulation. Most of all, Don stipulated no peeking. After all, he is an attorney.

I made out my list, and wrote each out on a small piece of paper. Don also completed his tasks and added them to mine in the jar. After mixing them, I reached into the jar and pulled out the first note. It said, “Complete the back deck project including the built in gas grill.” I was thrilled. I had wanted Don to finish the deck for some time. I picked the note on Friday night, and by Sunday afternoon the deck was finished. As we went to bed that night I thanked Don for playing along. He smiled and odd smile and said, “Don’t worry Tracy, my time will come.”

The next week we again pulled one of my notes, and Don had to paint our spare bedroom. On the third weekend Dan had to take me out to dinner and a movie of my choice. You see, after putting in nine notes regarding home improvement, I thought that I would do one where Dan had to take me out on the town.

After pulling five of my notes straight, a Friday night came where I pulled one of Don’s requests. My eyes went wide as I read the paper aloud. “Tracy, you know how much I love it when you give me head. I want you to suck my cock, all weekend. Whenever and where ever I ask, you are to get down on your knees and give me a full blowjob.”

I couldn’t believe it. Don had me suck his cock twice that Friday night, three times Saturday and three more times on Sunday. On Saturday, I had to do it once while we were parked out in front of a restaurant where we were going to dinner. On Sunday evening, Don had me kneel before him and suck his cock while he made phone calls to his brothers and friends. He had cum so many times during the weekend, that it took him over on hour to shoot. As we were finally going to sleep that night, I realized that Don had cum eight times during the weekend, and I had not orgasmed once.

Although I was eager to have Don complete all of the tasks that I had placed into the jar, I was somewhat pleased when I pulled one of his notes out the next weekend. However, I lost a little of my enthusiasm when I read Don’s note that said, “This weekend I’m going to fuck you in the ass, all weekend long. Whenever and wherever I wish, I’m going to have you bend over and I’m going to fuck that tight ass of yours.”

Don had fucked my ass in the past, yet I had no idea that he felt so strongly about it. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, I just would rather have him inside my pussy. I actually felt shy as Don let me contemplate the note’s contents for about 5 minutes before he said, “Valerie, I’m ready.” In a very matter a fact way, he took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom where he had me bend over and put my hands on the end of the bed. While I was still standing, he pulled my slacks and panties down past my knees. Next, he left the room and returned with a jar of Vaseline from the bathroom. He then applied a large amount directly on to the end of his cock and pressed it into my ass.

He felt so large and so hard. I could actually feel his cock as it pulsated in my back door. It was also very hard for me. Don had never taken me from the back without a long session of foreplay. Now he simply rammed his cock into me, and after I became used to the feeling of being split apart, I actually felt as if I was about to climax. Yet, just as I was getting close, Don stopped moving as he pumped his load deep within my body.

That weekend was just like the one before. Don used me as a sexual object, and I actually revealed in the attention. He fucked my ass again Friday night about midnight, twice on Saturday and twice more on Sunday. On Saturday evening, he had me grab my ankles as he fucked my ass in the bushes of a park near our home. I don’t know why I wasn’t more curious when he asked me if I wanted to go for a walk.

As you can guess, over the next couple of months Don had to complete quite a few of the projects around our home. I on the other hand, had to continue to perform for him as his notes were drawn from the jar. I had to allow him to video tape me performing a strip tease. I had to shave my pussy, and masturbate for him while he watched. Don also had me go out and rent a cheerleader outfit and he took me to the drive-in. Once there, he had me give him a blowjob, then go for popcorn and drinks in my sweater and skirt with no panties. Once I got back, he had me fuck him in the back seat as if we were back in high school.

Of all the notes in the jar, it would figure that Don would have the last one. As luck would have it, it was also the hardest for me to perform. Don’s last note told me that I was to go and check in to a local hotel, one with a bar. While wearing an outfit of his choice, I was to allow him to come in and “picks me up” on a Friday. Although this does not sound like much at first, I soon became painfully aware that it was not as easy as it sounded.

First of all, the outfit that Don had picked out for me was the smallest and sleaziest clothing that I had ever worn. There was a pair of thigh high nylons with garter belts. The garter belt was made of a white leather, and the nylons were black and very shear with the seam up the back. The panties, if you can call them that, where made of a red stretchy material. They were so small that the cheeks of my ass could touch and I had to trim my pussy hair even further than normal so none poked out the sides. Don had purchased a pair of red paten leather spiked heels, at least 4 inches tall. On top of this entire ensemble, went the smallest dress that I had ever seen. The best way that I can describe it is that it was a very short cocktail dress. It was made of an almost transparent white silk material. The front was so low that it came to just an inch or two above my nipples. It was held up by a mesh of spaghetti straps, as it was backless. I had to pull my garter belt down as low as it would go so that it wasn’t visible.

As I finished my make-up and looked at myself in the mirror, I realized that Don had dressed me like a high priced prostitute. The dress was so shear that you could see exactly what I had on underneath, as well as what I didn’t. Riding the elevator down to the hotel lobby, I decided that I would be just as much of a whore as Don wanted me to be. As I swung hips from side to side strutting into the bar, I was aware of every eye on me.

I walked up to the bar, expecting to find Don sitting near the door. After taking a glance around, I decided to have a seat and wait. Almost immediately, I was joined by a man who offered to by me a drink. I politely declined, saying that I was waiting for someone and he left. However, as soon as he was gone, he was replaced by another. Soon, I was surrounded by a group of four men who took it upon themselves to join me. Dressed as I was, I could hardly blame them. I sat fidgeting in my chair, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tops of my nylons covered by the bottom of my skirt without pulling it down too far as to reveal any more cleavage.

Just as I was starting to relax a little, one of the guys pulled me by the arm out onto the dance floor. It was a fast number, and he spun me around like a top. I know that I could feel a breeze between my legs, and I’m sure that I gave everyone a good show. As the song ended and the next began, I was straining to look for Don. My partner was replaced by another of the men, I don’t even remember their names, and he pulled me close as the song began. That’s when I noticed Don. He had been sitting in a back booth of the bar all along, and now he strolled up to the three of my partners who were still at the bar and joined them.

While we danced, I watched them all talk as they would occasionally look my way. Don and I had a great time engaging in the games over the past few months, but I never expected what seemed to be approaching. I did not know if I was ready to have sex with anyone else. Don and I had never discussed it before, yet I found myself doing a lot of things lately that we had not discussed in advance. The song was about half over when one of the other guys cut in and immediately the attitude changed. My new partner pawed at my body as if I had belong to him. I tried to look to Don for direction and all I was greeted by was his big smile as he watched my partner’s hands squeeze the cheeks of my ass.

As the song ended, the partners changed and my position remained the same. I felt as if I were a doll being passed from man to man. I was beginning to become very aroused as my partners got more brave with each song. After I had been groped by each of the four, Don took their place and joined me on the dance floor. As we danced, he behaved like the others, pinching and squeezing my most sensitive and private areas. Don then said that he had told the other four that I was a local prostitute, and that he had seen me in here many times before.

At first I was shocked, as I assumed that Don would want to complete the entire scene and invite three strangers back to our room. However, Don told me that he was going to sit back in the corner, and watch me. He wanted me to go back over to the bar with my new friends, remove my panties while standing between them, and write on them a room number pretending that it is ours. He would meet me up in our room later. I was to be naked and to open the door to the first knock. If I didn’t, he was going to invite them up to the room

True to his word, Don then left me alone to complete my task. My legs trembled as I rejoined the four men at the bar’s edge. They all seemed more than interested in joining me later, even offering me as much as $500 to do all four of them at once. As Don instructed, I told them that I would write my room number down, and asked them for a pen. There is no way for me to descried the looks on their face as I reached under my short dress and pulled the red thong panties to the floor. I then retrieved them by bending full at the waist. If Don wanted a show, I was going to give them one. I hoped that Don got as excited as I did when one of the four pressed a finger into my pussy as I wrote out a room number hoping that it was not my own.

I practically ran to the room and stripped off my clothes. I was so horny that I began to play with myself awaiting Don. There was soon a knock at the door, and I quickly swung it open wide only to find that it wasn’t Don standing in the hall. One of the hotel’s bellhops greeted me with a big smile and a bottle of Champaign. I think that he was more surprised than I as he handed me the bottle and hurried on his way. Just behind him, was Don. That weekend we had the best sex. It was a total revival of our love and lust for each other.

Now, our jar normally has only one or two notes in it. I still put in notes that require Don to fix something about he house, or take me on a vacation. I thought about trying to put in notes regarding sex, but I prefer to leave that to Don. After all, I think that I like the surprise of not knowing what comes next almost as much as having to do it.