Confessions of a Kinky Wife

No, there were three pink, strange-shaped objects. They reminded me a bit of the ornate handles at the bottom of my grandmother’s bathroom light pull switches – flared for a more comfortable grip. But I knew that the flaring was nothing to do with ease of wrapping fingers around. And I knew what these babies were. I’d seen them in The Book. They were butt plugs.

‘Oh, my God,’ I exclaimed, unable to stop myself. ‘Are you serious?’

He sat on the side of the bed and held my face, looking at me in a manner that made it perfectly clear that he was.

It wasn’t just my heart fluttering. Everything was in turmoil and I could scarcely identify my responses. Sometimes they seemed broadly positive, and then the lurch in my stomach begged to disagree and I thought I was dead against the whole idea.

‘I want to do this,’ he said softly. ‘Not to terrorise or punish you at all, but to see if you like it. I’ve always secretly wanted to, well, I won’t pussyfoot around, take you up the arse. But I don’t want the first time to be painful or shocking for you. So I thought this …’

I exhaled. ‘Right. Oh.’ I didn’t know what to say. It seemed beyond the pale to admit that I found the idea quite exciting. Surely I should resist the idea with every fibre of my being? But then, I was happy for him to give me a sore bottom in the other way. So this seemed a natural step to take.

‘And perhaps we could make it part of the routine, you know, instead of spanking, or in addition. I think –’ his voice became almost a whisper ‘– I’d like that.’

He looked as if he might salivate. My bared pussy began to flood at the thought of what he’d been planning and fantasising. He wanted to do unspeakable things to me. I wanted to let him.

But I didn’t want him to know I wanted it.

My head might have exploded, if only my lower parts weren’t so insistent in their needs.

What should I do? If I said, ‘Yeah, OK, go for it,’ I’d lose the best part of the excitement. Pretend to protest and hope he’d do it anyway? Be so over the top that he’d realise I was play-acting? I couldn’t expect him to read my mind, but I didn’t want my mind read. I wanted to be told what to do and made to accept it.

For a moment, we simply looked at each other and a chasm of real fear seemed to separate us.

Then I said, ‘You’re the boss.’

He smiled and took several deep breaths. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and he wiped it away.

‘OK then,’ he said, picking up the box.

‘In here,’ I whispered swiftly, to clarify. ‘In this room, you’re the boss.’

‘Except when you misbehave, my dear,’ he reminded me, wincing as he tried to rip off the sellotape using only his finger.

‘You need scissors.’

‘I don’t need scissors. Don’t tell me what to do. I’m the boss, remember. Shit. I need scissors.’

I laughed as he loped off to the kitchen to find some, then took up the package in my hands to investigate further.

The three plugs were of different sizes. I presumed I was only in for the most miniature of them today. All the same, it looked … alien. Yes, like an alien, a tiny pink fleshy thing. I supposed it was made of latex and would feel rubbery and cold. A little rubbery cold thing intended to prepare me for … a big, fleshy, hot thing. It hardly seemed appropriate.

The thought crashed over me again. Dan wanted to bugger me. He was going to do it. I was going to feel what it was like to have his hard, thick cock right inside my tight back passage. Maybe not today, but sometime soon.

Gulp.

He came back with the scissors and cut the tape off the box flap.

‘Ready?’ he asked softly, removing the plastic tray with its three inhabitants. Big, medium-sized and small. I couldn’t help thinking of the three bears. Goldilocks was really going to have her work cut out tonight.

‘As I’ll ev

er be,’ I said. I’d buried my face in the duvet again. I wasn’t going to be able to face him until his … dabblings … were over. At least he couldn’t really ask me to – my neck wouldn’t allow it. Thank goodness for rears being at the rear.

‘OK then. Relax and hold still.’

He straddled me again and spent a little time kneading between my shoulder blades, loosening my knots, until I was sighing and floating.

‘Keep everything nice and relaxed,’ he murmured, shifting down a little for readier access to my bottom.