A Quic Dye Job

Inspired by a story by artisanalmc.

-

There was a pungent smell when I walked into the house, like a cleaning product that I didn't recognize. I nudged the door behind me closed with my foot, and called into the kitchen.

"I'm home, and I bought the salmon steaks I want you to cook tonight. Come help me with them, now."

It had been her idea, actually, but she insisted I had come up with it. My wife had agreed with her, and the two of them went into the pantry to plan the recipe. It had been decided, by me apparently.

"We need to watch this new show that Jake recommended tonight. Did you clean the pillows like I asked? We'll need back on the couch."

I walked into the kitchen, my hands full with the two grocery bags, and turned towards the island to put them down. I grunted a bit, and checked I had gotten everything from the car. With my wife having quit her job to ease into the pregnancy, and two cooks in the kitchen, the meals had been getting more complicated at home, and it was unusual that something wasn't already on the stove or in the oven.

"After you two did your edging session last night, those pillows really needed..."

I turned to face my wife, and I saw both figures staring at me, giggling.

My wife and our 'toy' were standing side by side, barefoot, in black crop tops and short grey shorts, and likely no underwear at all. My wife wasn't showing much yet, but the other girl was many months along in her pregnancy. Her large belly peeked out under her shirt, her straight blonde hair reaching to the middle of her breasts, which were getting bigger every week.

My wife's hair had been deep brown, and I had always loved it. I remembered our wedding, her dark hair curling and cascading down her back, stark on her white dress. I had played with it while lying on the couch, just the two of us, twirling it around in my fingers while we cuddled.

Now, her hair was blonde, and slightly damp, wavy around her grinning face. I could see the slightest bit of chestnut right near the roots, but the dye job was thorough.

The woman beside my wife had selected the hair dye well, matching her own blonde color almost exactly.

"Do you like it, Master?" the woman on the right said, her hands clasped in front of her. "Isn't she so pretty?"

I started breathing again, and took a step back into the island. She had done this, I know it, and I wondered how long they had been planning it together.

My wife's smile was giddy, almost like she was tipsy, but that was becoming normal nowadays. Her eyes were shyly looking at me, hoping I would like it.

The other woman's smile was confident. She was hiding it, but she was triumphant.

My wife stepped forwards, hands at her sides, her fists were clenching and unclenching with uncertainty. I could smell the dye as she got closer, chemical. I could see the hair was almost dry, almost done.

"Do you like how your wife looks... Master?"

She had never called me that before. Through everything, the increasing domestic life, the pregnancy, the daily submission to my will, she had never called me that. That was just the word our toy had insisted I go by. She had cried out the word, pleaded it, whispered it in my ear as I was drifting off to sleep. Over and over again, and I had felt like her Master for months now.

But hearing my wife say it...

She looked up at me with her big, beautiful brown eyes. They were the same shade they always had been.

I went to her, my arms around her head and her back. She tilted her head up, and our lips met as I ran my fingers through her wet hair to her scalp. I breathed in, and the smell of dye was overwhelming. I grasped her backside, my hand gripping tightly, and moved down to squeeze her ass. We held each other tight.

I pulled back after a minute. "You look so hot, baby." I could see our toy smiling behind my wife. I know she had done this, and she had told her what to say. But I could feel my erection in my pants, and I knew there was nothing I could do to change this. I looked back to my wife.

"Now, are you going to be a good girl for me, and get on your knees?"

She knelt slowly, never looking away from my eyes, and started to undo my belt. I closed my eyes, and put my hands on my wife's head. My toy knelt behind her, and started pulling back her newly blonde hair.

-

A woman was on her hands and knees on the couch, arched upwards while my cock went in and out of her pussy, over and over. I was holding her hair with my hand, and squeezing and slapping her ass with the other. The sun had set, and the pillows were being used under us.

I looked to the side, and the other woman was also on her hands and knees on the couch, sliding up and down on her dildo. The room was loud with heavy breathing and whimpers, and a muttered "Master, yes Master." The sounds played together, building on each other. I grunted, and slapped the woman on the side's ass, eliciting a squeak, before reaching forward to tease the clit of the woman I was deep inside of.

With the backs of their blonde heads to me, just for a moment, I couldn't tell which woman I was inside of, and which was fucking herself obediently beside us. And that was enough.