Margarite and bobbie 01

I spend a lot of time by myself, not intentionally. I like people and I love my wife very much. But my life requires a great deal of commitment. Not that it’s difficult for me, I am very devoted and seldom get board with my duties. My wife is very demanding and because she realizes how much I love her, she knows also how much she can expect from me. This has always been true, beginning with our first date. It must have been clear to her from the way I looked at her or from some subtle clue in my body language, or perhaps it was because I didn’t flirt or tease her even in the beginning, when such behavior is expected. I couldn’t bring myself to pretend that I wasn’t completely infatuated with her. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t believe every word she uttered.

I was right to trust her, she has never lied to me. But she amazed me when, After we had been married a year, she informed me that I would not be having sexual intercourse with her any more. She told me she knew that I would be amply satisfied if I were occasionally allowed to kiss her ass. I laughed when she said this- I thought she was kidding me, but she wasn’t. To this very day, some ten years later, I have never once put my cock into her vagina, not even for a few seconds. As it happened, she waited several weeks before even allowing me to kiss her ass. I was surprised to learn how totally enthralled I felt, kneeling before her rear end, while she bent forward, thrusting her two tanned and alluring cheeks in my face. As I licked her perfectly formed rectal lip, I could feel myself falling. My eyes lost their focus and my nose was adrift in the sea of womanly scents, which led me into a haze of forgetfulness. I guess you could say that I am addicted to Margarite and have been since the very beginning.

Of course, I knew she needed another man, someone who could be more masculine than I. He would be taller, probably weigh more and have more body hair (I have very little). Margarite would often laugh at my chest and say, “Where is your chest hair?” Finally she would find a few hairs between my breasts and pull them hard. A few at a time, nearly all of what hair I used to have on my chest is now completely gone. The rest of my body I keep shaved because that’s the way she likes it. It was not difficult to do what Margarite told me to do. It was very easy and it got easier all of the time.

As time went by I got used to her dating other men. After all she always came home eventually. Every woman needs someone to take care of her, to do her laundry and cleaning, her ironing, her gardening and, of course, money to pay bills. For several years we lived happily together, just she and I, with very few visitors. Her boy friends were men I never met and only knew through her detailed accounts of their love-making. This all began to change one weekend not that long ago.

I was waiting for Margarite to return as usual on Saturday night while she was out dancing. I was alone most Friday and Saturday nights. I would usually try to get caught up on my chores. While I was ironing the dresses and blouses which she had chosen to wear during the coming week, I was wondering if she would come home at all. I knew that If she found someone whom she liked, they would go to his place and fuck. In the morning Margarite would return about nine O clock and make a big scene over how good she felt (having been fucked by a real man). Next she would tell me what to prepare for her breakfast and begin taking off her clothes. Sometimes I could see love stains on her panties when I picked them up for the laundry and sometimes parts of her body would glisten with dried semen. The signs of her adultery stabbed me in the heart and I would have a weightless, sinking feeling, as though I was falling into a bottomless pit. It was a frightening feeling, but it was also thrilling in a strange way. Gradually I became used to it. Now I find myself savoring that poignant sense of loss that still clutches my gut, because I have become so conditioned to expect that thrilling feeling of betrayal that sweeps over me, accentuating my subservience to this beautiful and powerful woman. I know it’s hard to believe, but when I see her gloating over her latest conquest, so happy and so sexy, the pain of her betrayal begins to melt away and I begin to fall in love with her all over again. My hurt feelings gradually dissolve after a few hours as I mope by myself or if she smiles at me or just glances over her shoulder as she steps into the shower and gives me a bright confident look. Then I can resume my slavery to her. Typically I begin picking up her soiled party clothes, still feeling a pang of nostalgia for those times in the past when we were intimate together as equals. Margarite never hangs anything up, never folds anything. I often wondered if she even knows where the dirty clothes hamper is. well, it doesn’t matter, because I am always there to pick up her clothes and I love to do it.

One Saturday night I was still ironing her lavender chemise, when I heard the door open and a soft excited laugh followed by a deeper voice. “Be quiet Ralph,” she said as she took off her shoes. I heard them drop on the hard wood floor. “We don’t want to shock Bobbie too much. Bobbie!” she called to me. “Come down and fix us a drink!” I walked slowly down the stairs trying to keep my eyes looking downward as I knew she expected me to. Still I wanted to see what this stranger looked like. Was he someone to be frightened of? Would he be someone that Margarite might have trouble with? And, I wanted to see Margarite. Standing 5 feet 8 inches in her stocking feet, 115 pounds of curvaceous woman, her 36” bust pushing out of a low cut burgundy evening dress, flashing hazel eyes and natural blond hair. Her face was flushed and her eyes were glazed over with that faraway amorous look that I recognized from a time when I had been able to please her physically, or thought I was able to at any rate.
“Two gin and tonics bobby. “ As she said this Ralph, a tall muscular man with a five o-clock shadow and heavy dark hair, was already reaching into her blouse with a smooth, assertive movement. When I returned with the drinks they were both nearly undressed. “Is he going to watch?” asked Ralph. “Is it a problem?” Margarite looked at him with a superior gaze, which I knew very intimately. I would have immediately shut up and said’ “no Margarite”. “Well alright baby if that’ll make you happy, ‘so kay with me.” He’s getting the picture, I thought. After drinking the gin and tonics, they began to get serious. Just before I left the room to refill their drinks Ralph began to suck on my beautiful wife’s left breast, while pinching and caressing the nipple on her right one. A few minutes later, walking back into the room I nearly dropped the glasses when I saw her mouth extending over the top of his cock. Long and broad, the stiff member pushed out from his reclining body a good eight or nine inches. She was leaning forward, with her gorgeous red lips pulled tightly around his cock. Slowly she worked her head up and down his cock. His left hand cupped her head, bunching some of her lustrous blond hair, as he guided her head down over his pulsing cock.

She had never done that for me. She said It was too insignificant to bother, and beside, it was my place to serve her- not the other way around. It wouldn’t be right for her to lower herself to such a level with me. Her dates were different, of course. She liked to treat them like men, to encourage their masculinity so that they could perform better for her.

As I stood there watching them I realized how much I loved and needed Margarite. I felt thrilled for her, when I saw the look in her eyes, as she slipped up and down his cock, spreading her silky saliva over his shaft. Then I noticed that she was looking at my crotch. I looked down at the bulge in my panties. Her mouth tightened quickly into a brief smile. I realized that she had noticed the wet spot over my stiff little penis (sometimes Margarite just called it a clit- saying it wasn’t big enough to call a cock).
Soon Ralph was on top of her, thrusting his huge member into her cunt. He fucked her for about fifteen minutes before falling back on the couch to rest. During this time Margarite’s eyes had defocused in a trance of pleasure. I had never seen that look on her face before- it was way beyond the look I thought I knew and it made me feel very inadequate to see it now, now with a man she hardly knew. It confirmed what she had been telling me for some time. As far as sex was concerned, I wasn’t much of a man. They coupled again with Margarite riding Ralph, working her body up and down his cock with increasing speed. When they were finished I watched Margarite closely as she recovered from a tremendous orgasm. Normally I wouldn’t have dared look directly at her, especially under the circumstances. but she had become so lost in her ecstasy that I knew she would never notice me standing there gazing directly at her. Actually, I was so transfixed with awe that I couldn’t have helped myself anyway. When they had both recovered from their strenuous efforts, I handed him his drink and gave Margarite hers. As she took the glass she motioned me to come closer. then her finger pointed straight down to the floor, indicating that I must crawl. I dropped to my knees and moved toward her. Pointing to her cunt, she slowly dipped her head pointing to her dripping vagina with her satisfied, yet still assertive eyes. I moved my face closer. “Quickly!”, she said. Without thinking I began to lick her cunt. Because of the huge amount of love juice it took me several minutes to completely lick her clean. By this time I was extremely embarrassed. I could see the look of disgust on Ralph’s face as he watched me devour the elixir that contained so much of his own cum.
“Did you finish all of your washing and ironing, little man?” “Yes Margarite,” I said lowering my eyes and licking the remaining juice off of my lips. “You may come two drops.” This was all I was ever allowed to cum. Usually it was just one drop, but she was feeling generous. I knew this and was very thankful. I was never allowed to touch myself without her permission. After all it was really her cock, not mine. We both understood that. “Here, now?” I asked, dropping my eyes humbly. By this time Ralph was fascinated by what was happening. Instead of the contemptuous look he had just shown me, now there was a look of combined curiosity and puzzlement that showed me that he was probably not a dangerous person- that he might have a soft side..
“Ralph, you don’t mind if Bobbie gets a little relief, do you?” Ralph quickly jerked his head back and forth nodding in short strokes as she turned back to me. “Go ahead Bobbie, Milk my cock a little, just a couple of drops and then show Ralph what you do with it.” “Yes Margarite,” I said in meek trepidation. And I began to touch the tip of my little penis very lightly. I knew that it would go very badly for me if I accidentally had an orgasm. Orgasms were forbidden for me. I hadn’t had one for some time- nearly a year. I was not allowed to make love to Margarite. She said that my penis was so useless, it only tickled her. By the time I would shoot my wad she was just getting a little turned on. It was just too disappointing for her. I understood this and was very happy to lick her to orgasm whenever she would allow it. Occasionally she would let me cum one or two drops, as long as I didn’t begin to twitch and jerk- a few drops and no orgasm. I know it sounds wickedly mean, but I was used to it by now and I have to admit it kept me constantly interested in serving Margarite and serving Margarite made me very happy.
As soon as I could feel a single drop forming in my shaft I stopped. This only took a few minutes. I allowed the drop to fall on to my left hand and looked up to her meekly. I glanced quickly at Ralph and saw his mouth hanging open in disbelief. A second drop joined the first. I slowly licked the cum from my palm, savoring it as I swallowed. I didn’t particularly like the taste of it. Sometimes it was ok, other times very sour tasting, with a whiff of Clorox to it. This time it actually tasted pretty good since it was mostly pre-cum and the long anticipation of seeing Margarite in her glory had sweetened it somehow, into something I felt very privileged to consume- in front of her, as always, and in front of anyone she chose to witness. I was pleasing her and anyone who knows what it feels like to be completely submissive will understand how I felt.
Tonight Margarite was being very gentle with me. Usually, after my milking, she would do something like dig the heel of her shoe into my balls or tell me to get the nipple clamps or a paddle. I think she was afraid of freaking Ralph. I could see that she liked him. She probably wouldn’t have brought him home if she didn’t have some feelings for him. He may not have wanted to see her again if she appeared to be too cruel.
“Would you like some coffee darling,” she said to Ralph, smiling her most beautiful smile- very confident and a little shy at the same time. It was the language of sex, spoken by her to her lover in a way that was unique to her. It probably didn’t even matter what she said, because her expression, her subtle facial changes, the pervasive chemistry, all of which were having their effects upon Ralph, spoke a higher language to both of us, and even though he didn’t know it now Ralph was beginning to inter the alluring circle Margarite’s personality. Soon perhaps he would be spiraling downward into the depths of self abasement. Or perhaps he would be like me and feel himself rising into a freedom unknown to the majority of people. Silently, I rose from my knees and started for the kitchen. Margarite liked her coffee brewed from scratch.
While I began pouring the de-caff coffee beans into the grinder I could hear she and Ralph talking softly to each other. It was obvious that they were hitting it off pretty well. When I returned with their coffees, Margarite told me to go to my room so I didn’t hear anything else. Latter, I heard the bell ring, which she used to call me with. I came to her bedside and shyly looked upwards and into her deeply dreamy, very satisfied eyes.
“On the floor, little man.”
Things would be very different from now on. As the night progressed I could hear the soft sounds of Margarite comfortably breathing. Occasionally I heard a languorous sigh escape her mouth and I knew she was dreaming about some aspect of her perfect life, a life I helped to make possible for her. Sleeping on the floor and listening to her magical sounds made me feel very humble and very happy. I would not sleep with her on this night and my demotion to the floor had filled me with a crushing shame, a shame that thrilled me with awe.

In the morning I awoke quite early, even though the heavy carpet in her bedroom is very comfortable (in a pet bed sort of way). Ralph came out of the bathroom fully clothed and ready to leave. Seeing him suddenly made me remember everything that had happened the night before. The humiliation, which I had felt was so shocking that I hadn’t even had a chance to know what I was feeling. I knew it was overwhelming and I knew that a new chapter had been started in our lives. I could already tell that, as so many times in the past, what initially shocked and frightened me, would eventually become a perfectly natural everyday experience. In this way I had progressed from a slightly passive attitude during sex in the first few months of our relationship, to a mode of complete submissiveness, a submissiveness so profound in the tenth year of our marriage that no amount of humiliation or degradation even, could do anything but bind me closer to my mistress. And so I could have remained there, comfortably ensconced at the foot of her bed, dreaming about what my roll would be in our new life, but it would not go well for me if she were to awake and not smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. So I rose and crept quietly into the kitchen and began to prepare her breakfast.

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