BOB'S STORY

Chapter 2

Carol awakened before I did the next morning, and was in the shower when I returned to the reality of my throbbing, burning rear end.  As she entered the room from the bathroom, she noticed I was awake and said brightly, "Time to get up, sleepyhead.  We have lots of places to see today."

There was something in the tone of her voice that was strikingly different than anything that had been there before, and I turned my head to look directly at her.  She was standing there toweling her wet hair, completely nude.  Her magnificent breasts swayed seductively as her arms moved, and I momentarily forgot about my discomfort as I gazed in rapt fascination. 

Carol had never been prudish about her naked body, and I had seen her that way many times in the past.  This time, though, there was something different, and I had the immediate thought that the different part was her air of inner confidence.  She had an air of "being in charge" that could not be mistaken.  I knew then that another part of our relationship had been changed by last night's events.

I groaned inwardly as I struggled to move, and actually whimpered when I came to a seated position on the edge of the bed.  I quickly stood, hoping to relieve the pain somewhat, and that actually seemed to help a slight bit.  I made my way to the bathroom, emptied my bladder, then stepped under the shower.  There's simply no way to describe the burning, itching sensation I felt as the water ran over my butt, and the way it soon changed to a soothing feeling.  I stayed there as long as I thought I could before at last soaping and rinsing, avoiding, of course, that part that was burning with the fires of Hell.

The morning was one long session of continuous pain, beginning with trying to sit in a chair at the restaurant as we ate breakfast, and followed by endless hours of walking, feeling my trousers riding against my ravaged flesh.  Carol seemed to be oblivious to my discomfort, and I suppose I can't blame her for that.  After all, I'd done everything in my power to get her to whip me, and if that whipping was now causing me second thoughts, then I simply had to accept the responsibility for it.

We ate a late lunch, then returned to the motel for an afternoon nap.  Again, she told me to leave her alone, and I did so.  Again, I lay on my stomach trying to relax enough to fall asleep, but wasn't successful.  My wife had no trouble at all with sleeping, and seemed to rest peacefully for at least an hour.

When she finally awakened, she yawned and stretched, then said, "Okay.  I'm ready to take you to the beach."

For several seconds, I had no idea what she was talking about, then recalled what I had said she should do to me.  I simply couldn't believe she meant to parade me in public, with the welts on my ass visible to one and all, and thought she was just attempting to scare me.  That idea was soon wiped from my brain as she stood and began to undress.  When she took her swimsuit from her suitcase, and began to put it on, I moved to do the same.  She said simply, "You can undress in the car when we get to the beach."

I thought she meant to subject me to the semi-public humiliation of undressing in our car in order to put on my bathing suit.  However, as I opened my suitcase to get my suit, she said quietly, "You won't need that.  Let's go."  She walked to the door, never once glancing my way to see if I were following.  Her quiet confidence in my obedience seemed somehow to make me want to do that, and so I left the room right behind her.

It was about ten blocks to the beach, and we drove in silence.   I have no idea what my wife's thoughts were, but I know mine were a jumble of images, and they changed from being embarrassing to being arousing.  When I had envisioned this happening in my fantasy, the only thing I felt had been excitement.  The reality was that what was about to happen would be very embarrassing to me.  However, the idea of being humiliated in public was at the same time very erotic.  Those of you who share my fantasy can appreciate that.  The others will never understand it, no matter how much I try to explain.

Carol parked the car in one of the spaces by the beach, then turned to me.  She said, "Okay, honey.  Get undressed."

She said nothing more, simply sat there looking at me as I sat frozen.  My eyes shifted frantically from her to the beach, where I saw dozens of people in various states of undress.  There was a row of trees between the parking lot and the street, so no one there would see me undressing.  However, there was nothing at all to obstruct the view of the sunbathers in front of us.  Finally, my hands dropped slowly to my shirt, and I began to unbutton it.

Carol smiled as I began to remove my clothing, but said nothing.  When I was at last finished undressing, she reached to the back seat for a couple of beach towels, then got out of the car, saying, "Okay.  Let's go.  I wonder if it'll be as exciting for you as your whipping was last night." 

As I got out of the car, I held my hands protectively in front of my crotch, trying to shield it from all the prying eyes that I was sure were staring at me.  I looked around, glad to see that no one at all was looking my way, but not feeling any less embarrassed.  I hurried to Carol's side, then said, "I'll carry the towels if you want me to."

She almost laughed, then replied, "No way, sweetheart.  You wanted this, and now here it is.  By the way, keep your hands at your sides.  You look like a scared little boy when you try to hide your crotch like that."  She then walked away, confident I would follow, as before.  And I did.

The walk from our car to a clear spot where we could spread our beach towels was probably the longest of my entire life.  It seemed every step we took caused more heads to turn, and there was a palpable silence behind us as everyone we passed saw my welted butt.  I heard several whispers, and knew if I turned my head, I'd see people pointing at me.  Again, the reality of being humiliated in public was far different than my fantasy.  When I thought of this happening, while masturbating in the privacy of my home, my cock had been hard as a rock.  Now, the poor little thing was so shrunken as to be almost invisible.

We at last reached a clear spot in the sand, and spread our towels.  Carol lay down on hers, and when I lay beside her on mine, she said to me, "Stay on your tummy.  I want everyone to see what you're so proud of."  I knew she meant the red stripes she'd given me hours before, and also knew they were still easily visible, since I'd checked them before leaving the motel.

We remained at the beach for less than an hour, but it seemed like a lifetime.  I think my face was as red as my butt during the whole time, and every time someone walked by and laughed, my sense of humiliation knew no end.  The most embarrassing part of all was when two women walked past, arm in arm.  They stopped and glanced pointedly at my backside, then one of them said, "You go, girl!  That's all men are good for, isn't it?"

Carol joined them in laughter, then said merrily, "This one is, anyway."  The two walked on, and I wanted nothing more than to just sink into the sand, disappearing from sight forever.

When the time came for us to leave, she again carried the towels, after instructing me to keep my hands at my sides.  Again, that walk back to our car was one of the longest of my life, and this time there was no doubt that everyone was staring at my blazing butt.

I was allowed to put on my trousers in the car, just in case a cop stopped us on the way back to the motel.  She told me that I wouldn't need to put on anything else, since it'd be coming off as soon as we were in our room.  I was sure I knew what she had in mind, and by the time we had returned, my cock was no longer shrunken.  By the time she said, "Get naked and get on the bed," it was once-again rampant.  By the time she had removed her swimsuit and mounted me, it was bigger that ever before in my life.  Once again, the fantasy part of public humiliation had taken over, and it was just about the most-exciting thing I could think of.  The brain is an odd thing, indeed.
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I won't try to tell you that we quickly began to live the S&M life, because that's not what happened.  My wife did whip me again on a few occasions, but it was never as exciting for either of us as it had been that first time.  We continued to have intercourse in the female-superior position, and she continued to prefer reaching orgasm by riding my tongue after I had climaxed inside her pussy.  The other parts of my fantasy, though, remained just that.  She seemed to have no interest in completely dominating me, as I wanted and needed.

Our lives continued in that manner for almost a year, and would probably have gone on like that forever, but for a twist of fate.  That twist arrived in the guise of a telephone call one evening, from my older sister.  She had a favor to ask of us, and in granting that seemingly-innocent favor, we set ourselves irrevocably on the road to where we are now.

Sis said, "Bob, Mark is going to graduate from veterinary school next month.  He has to serve something like an internship with an established vet before he can become licensed, and that's where we need your help.  He's been invited to join a clinic in your city, and has accepted.  The problem is that he needs someplace to stay until he can get settled.  Can he stay with you guys for a few days, until he finds someplace else?"

Of course we agreed to that arrangement, since we had two empty bedrooms in our house.  In any event, it would be for only a few days, so wouldn't be all that big a problem to be accommodating.  I told Sis we'd be happy to have Mark stay with us until he got settled, and so the arrangements were made.

I hadn't seen my nephew for several years, and was sure he'd be much different by now.  Sis was a few years older than my own 42 years, and although I wasn't really sure of Mark's age, guessed he was probably twenty years younger than I.  I couldn't envision any problems with having him as our guest for a few days, and actually looked forward to being able to catch up with the family news that he'd know.
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We met Mark at the airport at the appointed time, and even though he was no longer the boy I'd known years ago, I was able to recognize him.  He had grown to be a handsome young man, probably three inches taller than my average height of 5'-10".  I'm sure he outweighed me by several pounds, and judging by the size of his muscles, I would stay out of any wrestling matches where he was involved.

It was his personality that was so engaging, however, and both Carol and I found him a delightful person.  He and I shook hands, and then they hugged in greeting.  I saw Carol blush slightly as the hug lasted a few moments longer than necessary, and it took her a few seconds to regain her composure when they at last separated.  I certainly couldn't blame him for wanting to hug my wife as long as possible.  She had recently passed her fortieth birthday, but was still in prime condition.  I knew that for a certainty, for we'd had sex just the night before, and I could testify there was absolutely no sag in her breasts, and her thigh muscles could still squeeze my head until I feared it'd burst.

We returned home, and soon had Mark moved into one of the unused bedrooms.  He showered and changed clothes, then we sat in the living room sipping before-dinner drinks as the casserole heated in the oven.  Again the conversation came easily, and it was with reluctance that Carol finally left us to check the dinner.  When she announced it was ready, we all cooperated in setting the table, and carrying food to it from the kitchen.

Mark was obviously tired from his flight, so we all went to bed early.  As Carol and I lay there in our bedroom, we talked quietly about how nice my nephew was.  We both agreed that he'd be a good catch for some woman, and then she said something that absolutely stunned me.  It was, "I think his cock is the biggest I've ever seen on a man.  He must have inherited that from his dad's side of the family, because it certainly didn't come from yours."

When I finally was able to reply, I asked, "How do you know how big he is?  You certainly didn't see him undressed, did you?"  At the time, her implication that my penis was small didn't register on my brain.  That came later, I guess.

She said, "Women check out men's crotches from the time they reach puberty.  I've been doing it for almost thirty years, and believe me when I say that his bulge is among the biggest I've ever seen.  I wish I could see it hard.  It must be a monster."

Again I was stunned, because at no time in our married life had my wife ever given the slightest indication she had any interest in other men's equipment.  The other thought impacted my brain at that moment, and I tried to deal with the new idea that she was of the opinion that my own equipment was lacking.  I guess it's just another indication of my fucked-up brain, but that thought was more than a little arousing to me.  It seemed that here was another opportunity for me to be humiliated, and my brain found that exciting.

I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Would you like to be in bed with him right now?"  As I said that, I placed my hand on her bare breast, and found the nipple to be rock hard.  It seemed the answer was right there, and it was the opposite of what she said, which was, "Of course not.  He's the same age as our own kids, for God's sake.  How could you even begin to think I'd want to have sex with someone that young?"  Again, her denial was belied by her turgid nipples, and I was sure that if I dropped my hand to her crotch, I'd find it to be more moist than usual.

The thought of my wife in bed with another man, especially one who had a much-larger cock, was almost too much for me.  The hardness of my penis was a duplicate of her nipples, and when I began to suckle them, it seemed to grow even more as I imagined Mark doing that to her.  She actually seemed to push my head toward her crotch, which was something she very rarely did.  It was obvious to me she was just as excited as I was, and I felt certain we were both thinking of the same thing.

After I had licked her for a few seconds, she whispered, "It's not wet enough for you.  Turn over."

That was our "code" that meant she wanted to ride my cock until I climaxed, then ride my tongue until she reached her own orgasm.  I quickly rolled to my back, and she just as quickly mounted my penis, burying it deep inside her with one quick thrust.  I had an instant flashback to that night in the motel in California, when she had been almost desperate to cum.  It seemed that she was now feeling the same degree of arousal, and her thrusts as she rode me were almost frenzied.  It was almost as if my body were waiting for her husky whisper to, "Cum, damn you!"  When I heard that, my balls began to empty, shooting spurt after spurt of semen into her pussy.

She moved to my face almost before my last spasm had stopped, and her desperation was evident in the frenzied way she forced her crotch against my mouth.  As on that night in the motel, she almost growled as she said, "Eat it!  Oh, God!  I'm cumming!  Eat his cum!"

I truly thought she'd suffocate me before she at last released the death grip her thighs had on my head.  As I gasped for breath, she rolled to her back beside me, and we both lay in silence as we returned to reality.

What she had said ran through my head over and over.  I knew that her thighs had been pressed tightly against my ears at the time, but I was sure she had said, "Eat his cum," when she was climaxing.  That simply confirmed what I had already guessed: that she had been thinking of Mark, and that in her mind it was his semen she was feeding to her husband.  As I understood all the implications of that, I realized my cock was once again erect.  Apparently it just couldn't resist this new fodder for humiliation.

Carol usually rolled to her stomach and quickly fell asleep after she had reached orgasm.  That night, though, it was apparent she was still just as awake as I was.  When I rolled to my side, facing her, my erection pressed against her hip.  She placed one hand on the thing, and began to softly caress it.

I began to duplicate her actions, with her nipples as my target, and was surprised to feel them still just as erect as they had been a few minutes before.  There was no question that both of us were still aroused, and I was sure I knew the reason.

As I caressed and nuzzled her breasts, I whispered, "Something must have really turned you on tonight.  What was it?"

There was a long silence then, but at last she whispered back, "I don't know.  I guess I was just horny.  It feels like you still are, too, aren't you?"

I couldn't deny the truth of what she'd said, since she was holding the proof in her hand.  I simply replied, "Yes."  I seemed to reach a resolve at that point that would forever change our lives, and I knew that we needed to be open and honest with each other.  I continued by saying softly, "The last time you were that hot was when you whipped me at that motel in California.  I didn't know it was possible for you to get as turned on as you were then.  Remember?"

It took her several seconds to answer, and when she did, it was obvious to me that she had reached a resolve similar to mine.  She whispered softly, "Yes.  There was something about doing that to you that reached a part of me I didn't know was there.  Hearing that belt hit your butt, and seeing the red stripes it left, just made me hot as Hell.  I think tonight I  may have been even hotter, though."

I asked, "Do you remember what you said when you climaxed tonight?"

She seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then replied, "To tell the truth, I don't remember saying anything.  All I could think about was how good it felt when I started to cum.  God, I wish all of them could be like that."  She paused then, before asking, "What did I say, anyway?"

I said simply, "You said you were cumming, then you tried to crush my skull.  The last thing I heard was you saying, 'Eat his cum,' and then my mouth was so full I thought I'd drown."

Again we lay in silence, thinking about what had been said, and what we were feeling.  At last she said, "I didn't realize I'd said that.  How did it make you feel to hear that?"

With no hesitation, I said, "I loved it.  All I could think of was you sitting on my mouth, feeding me another man's cum from your pussy.  I think it made me hotter than it did you."

Her question then got to the heart of the matter.  "How do you feel about it now?  Does it still make you hot?"

My short answer was only one word, "Yes."

Again we lay in silence, fondling each other.  She at last broke the silence by asking, "Would you really want something like that to happen?"

Again I answered, "Yes," then continued, "I've had fantasies about that for a long time.  I've wanted very much for you to make love to another man.  Do you think you could ever do it?"

After an even longer pause, she finally answered, "Yes, if you're really sure it's what you want."

To say I was shocked would have been an understatement.  Never in my wildest imaginings had I thought my wife would say such a thing.  All the time I was fantasizing about such a thing happening, there was some small part of my mind that knew she would never agree to it.  Now that she had said she would, it seemed to be me, more than her, who was hesitant.

I finally overcame my hesitation, and replied, "I want it to happen.  It seems like I've wanted that for as long as I can remember."  I paused then, before asking, "Mark?"

Her short answer was, "Yes."  After her own pause to reflect, she continued, "I'll ask you one more time, but not now and maybe not ever, if you really and truly want me to do it.  You'd better be thinking about your answer, because whatever you say is the way it'll be.  One thing you'd better consider is this: if Mark really is as big as his bulge tells me, then I won't have any more use for your little wee-wee.  What that means is, if he fucks me, you won't.  Ever."

She then rolled over onto her stomach, giving me one last instruction.  "I'm going to sleep now.  Go ahead and jack off if you want to.  Maybe before much longer, the only thing you'll be fucking will be your hand.  Might as well practice now.  Good night."

She said nothing more that night, and as her breathing evened, I was sure she had fallen asleep.  As for me, sleep was hard to come by.  Our conversation played over and over in my brain, and each repetition seemed to make my cock grow even harder.  At last I took her advice, and my hand brought me the relief I needed in order to also fall asleep.

To be continued . . .