Fun & Games

Let me introduce myself. My name is Ruthie. Actually, it's Ruth, but everyone calls me Ruthie except for my mother and my husband, Jonathan, when they're angry. I'm average build, almost 5'6" and 120 lbs. We females try not to talk about birthdays once we reach a certain age, so let me just say I'm still in my twenties. You figure it out.

I'm told I have a good body. I work out, so it's in shape, at least. My breasts don't sag, and neither does my ass, and I only have the faintest, tiniest wrinkles beginning at the corners of my eyes. My hair is shoulder-length, medium brown and straight. My husband tells me I'm beautiful, but I'm pretty sure he's biased.

Now that you know what I look like, let me tell you a little about my life. I'm married, obviously. We've been married for six years. I worked for him at a brokerage firm and we fell in love and married within a year. Lucky for me, I've never had to work again, at least at a job where you get a real paycheck. I spend my days doing whatever I want, alone or with my girlfriends. We shop, play tennis, work out at the gym, or just have lunch. It's an easy life, and I don't complain. I have no restrictions during the day. But when Jonathan comes home at night, I belong to him.

Maybe I should tell you a little about Jonathan. He's five years older than me, 6'2" and weighs 195 lbs, or at least he did when we married. I'm guessing he's put on ten pounds or so over the years, but he's never said and I've never asked. His dark brown hair has a few streaks of gray beginning to show, which on him only makes him that much more handsome. But maybe I'm biased, too.

Everyone respects him, and everyone listens when he speaks. He has that air of authority that few people are blessed with, and he knows how to use it. I was scared to death of him on my first day of work those many years ago. As if spilling coffee on his desk wasn't bad enough, I tripped on my way out of his office and almost landed flat on my face. Talk about embarrassing! But I didn't lose my job...in fact, he evidently found it humorous. Within that first week, he started asking me personal questions and we had gone out on our first dinner date before the month was out.

One date led to another, and before you knew it, we were spending all of our free time together. When he asked me to marry him, I happily accepted. Our wedding was a girl's dream. It was huge, it took months to plan and my mother swore she aged twenty years from it.

But you don't want to hear about my wedding, I'm sure...

Let me backtrack a little. While we were dating, I found out fairly early on that Jonathan liked things that some people would consider a little bit over and above. I had wanted him to respect me, so held out until our third date before sleeping with him. He was still interested in me the next morning, so after that, I felt free to have sex with him anytime and anywhere we could. In his office, in his car, in his box seats at the baseball stadium, in an elevator, on an airplane...well, you get the idea. He's a bit of an exhibitionist, at least with my body. He loves it when I'm naked, especially when there's a chance someone might see me.

Let me give you an extreme example.

One night while we were still dating, he made reservations for dinner at a small, quiet Italian restaurant on the other side of town. When he came to pick me up, I wasn't ready quite yet. I had my makeup on and hair done, but was still debating what to wear, and was wrapped only in a towel. Growing impatient at my indecisiveness, he walked into my closet, pulled out a sweater and a long overcoat, tossed them at me and told me to get dressed.

As I reached for a lacy bra to wear with the sweater, he pulled it from my reach and told me I wouldn't need it. Okay, I could live with that, so I didn't argue. Turning back to my clothes, I reached for a pair of pants, only to have him tell me I didn't need those, either. Excuse me? He expected me to wear a sweater and nothing else? Oh, yes, I almost forgot, he had picked out my long overcoat.

Did I argue with him? No. People just don't argue with Jonathan. So I pulled the sweater over my head, pulled on the garter belt and stockings he had found, then slipped my feet into a pair of high heels and buttoned up my coat.

I spread my legs for him in the car, letting him feel how wet I was. Driving across town, he brought me to an orgasm before we ever reached the restaurant, and my legs were still shaking as he led me inside. The cold air blew up under my coat, swirling around my legs and pussy and making me even more aware of how naked I was underneath.

He had reserved a rounded booth in the back, and as I scooted across the seat, Jonathan told me to hand him my coat so he could hang it. That was a trick, let me tell you. I tried to sit while I was taking it off, and since no one around us was watching, I think I pulled it off without being seen. The vinyl seats were cold against my bare ass and he saw me shiver. He was sitting right next to me, his leg pressed against mine. Thank goodness there was a tablecloth so no one could see underneath the table. It was one of those red checkered ones, with the candle flickering in the center of the table. I laid the napkin over my lap.

I don't remember much of the night, other than being acutely aware of sitting in a public restaurant, with tables full all around us, and I was half naked. What I do remember is trying to slide down when the waiter came to take our order. Jonathan reached over and shoved a finger deep inside me and pushed me back up. As the waiter left, none the wiser, Jonathan told me to lean forward on my elbows. As I did what he asked, he inserted his finger into my pussy from behind and began to finger-fuck me. I buried my head in my hands, trying not to moan. Soon he replaced his fingers with his thumb, circling it around inside my pussy and getting it wet. I know I moaned out loud when his thumb pushed against the entrance of my ass, slipping in a little too easily, while two fingers buried themselves back in my drenched cunt.

He squeezed his thumb and fingers together while they were both deep inside me, then he told me to lean back onto his hand. Whispering in my ear, he told me play with myself. Obediently, my hand slipped down and began to rub against my clit. It took all of 30 seconds before I felt myself peaking and then exploding. I know I squeezed his fingers and thumb tightly as I convulsed around them.

When I finally drifted back to normal, he slipped his hand out from under me and ran his wet fingers across my lips. Knowing from past experience what he wanted, I opened my mouth and sucked them clean, hoping no one was watching. I tasted myself on his fingers as my tongue circled around each one. When he put his thumb in my mouth, I tasted my shit on him. It was nasty, but I knew it was what he wanted.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, we ate dinner and left, and I gave him a blowjob in the car on the way home.

And we were only dating.

Once we returned from our honeymoon, Jonathan no longer held back.

We had bought a house before the wedding and he let me furnish and decorate it however I wanted, paying the bills and never questioning any expense. He was definitely a girl's dream man!

As I unpacked our suitcases the night we returned from our 2-week honeymoon in Europe, he walked in and sat on the settee, watching me hustle around the room, sorting through dirty clothes, hanging clean ones, putting our toiletries away. When I had finally finished, he had me come sit down beside him. Snuggling up to him, I rested my head on his shoulder and thought about the wonderful life we were going to lead. I imagined an Ozzy & Harriet life...silly me.

Still, I'm not complaining. I could have left anytime I wanted, but I'm still here. And I still love Jonathan and I know he loves me.

It was that night as we sat together that he handed me a wrapped gift. Opening it slowly, anticipating something exciting like jewelry, you can imagine my shock when the only jewelry I found was a collar and leash, some handcuffs with fur, nipple clamps and a whip, along with some assorted other toys that I knew were going to find their way inside of me.

Holy shit! A morbid fascination engulfed me as I took each piece out and looked at it. Did I say holy shit? I turned to look at Jonathan, and in his eyes saw his excitement. I looked down and saw his erection straining against his pants, and immediately felt my own juices start to flow.

That night I remember clearly...

"Strip for me, Ruthie." The hand that had been stroking my arm gently shoved me up and away from him. I looked at him for a long time, our eyes communicating with each other. I knew I could trust Jonathan, so I went along with his request.

Dimming the lights, I stood in front of him and began slowly unbuttoning my shirt, putting on a show for him, touching myself as each piece of clothing came off. I took my time when my bra fell to the floor, lifting my breasts in my hands and gently squeezing them, throwing my head back and swaying back and forth.

I dropped my pants to the floor, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Instead of taking off my panties, which were really just a small strip of fabric running up my behind, I turned my back to him and bent over, spreading my legs as I did and grabbing them around my ankles. I swayed back and forth a few times before standing up again and turning back towards him.

His eyes were shuttered, but I knew he was watching every move I made. God, I loved this man so much I would do anything for him.

When I finally stepped out of my panties, he motioned me forwards to stand in front of him.

"Good girl, you did well. Now, sit down beside me and let's try out some of these things." He scooted over, making room for me again as he reached for the nipple clamps in the box. "Hold your breast out for me." His breath tickled on my nipple and hardened it as I did as he asked, lifting myself up for him. He rubbed my nipple between his fingers until it was to his liking, then placed the clamp on it.

I jerked back, the immediate pain subsiding after a moment or two into a dull throb. Tassles hung from the clamp, tickling my stomach. A chain also connected it to the other clamp, which he attached to my other nipple after having me lift that breast for him. Tugging on the chain, he pulled it tight enough that the pressure it applied was painful. My nipples were pulled taut.

"That hurts, Jonathan." I sat still, not wanting him to pull it any tighter.

"It's supposed to, love." He leaned forward and kissed me, his tongue darting into my mouth and playing with mine. I pressed into him, my arms around his neck, hands entwined in his hair, aching for him. He knew every sensitive spot I had and how to drive me crazy. His lips found the side of my neck and he buried his head there, nibbling his way up and down, as I moaned and crawled up into his lap.

He never complained that I was leaving a very wet spot on his good pants where I was rubbing my pussy against his leg. He was kind enough, however, to relieve my frustrations by reaching down and covering my entire mound with his hand and pressing into it. I ground my hips into his hand until he began to rub and tease my clit, using two fingers to flick back and forth across it as my thighs spread open.

"Oh Jonathan, I'm going to cum," I cried. Before I could, however, he stopped and pulled on the chain attached to the nipple clamps, sending pain rushing through me. My orgasm quickly disappeared before it had a chance to happen and I pushed back from him.

"Why did you do that? Dammit, that hurt!"

He set me from his lap, not looking concerned at all. "I didn't want you to cum yet, Ruthie. Don't worry, you will when I'm good and ready for you to." He knew me well enough to know that I'd be ready to burst soon. "I want to try out some of these other things first."

Lifting up the handcuffs, he dangled them in front of me. "What do you think of these?" he said with a wicked grin on his face.

I could think of a lot of things to do with them, and each one made me hornier than the one before.

"C'mon, hold your hands out for me." I obediently held out my wrists, but he only snapped one on. "Stand up," he pulled me up and led me towards the bed, "and grab hold of this." He indicated one of the posters at the foot of the bed. So I wrapped my hands around the solid wood of one of the four posters on the beautiful bed I had so lovingly chosen for us. He snapped the other cuff on my hand, "Now bend over and spread your legs apart."

I tingled in anticipation, wondering what was to come. The tassels on the clamps swung back and forth with my naked breasts as I leaned over, pulling on the clamps and sending little shockwaves through my nipples and up through my entire body. I knew all it would take was a single touch from Jonathan to send me over the edge, but he didn't oblige.

Instead, I felt something touching me lightly on my ass, wondering for a moment what it was before remembering the whip.

"Oh shit," I thought, just as it whistled through the air and landed on one cheek, sending fire spreading through me. It came down on the other side, followed quickly again and again as he raised it over and over. My ass was on fire, tears were running down my face as I stayed there, bent over, taking it. Could I really be doing this? Did I like it? Yes...no...I didn't know. I could feel the sting of each stroke clearly across my buttocks.

I was gasping for breath when Jonathan finally stopped, tears were coursing down my face.

"It's okay, baby, you're my girl, you're okay." He soothed me as he knelt behind me, rubbing his hands softly across my spread cheeks. His lips found the tender and sore skin, kissing gently, before moving between my legs and licking the entire length of me, starting from the top of my ass all the way to my clit. He settled in there, licking and sucking on me, his nose buried in my pussy. My tears slowly dried, replaced by soft moans as I began to push back on him, rotating my hips on his face.

As he continued to nibble away at me, I felt my orgasm building again, and said nothing as it began to overtake me, afraid he would stop if I did. I came violently, crying out loudly as he lapped at me, shoving his fingers in my pussy to feel my contractions. I sank to my knees, my head buried in my arms which were still raised from the cuffs.

Jonathan reached up and released me, my hands fell down to my sides as I knelt there, my ass still hurting, my nipples being pinched tightly, my pussy still throbbing from such an intense orgasm.

He leaned against the edge of the bed, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, as hard as I had ever seen it, the veins prominently standing out, the head glistening with drops of pre-cum. His hand pulled my head over between his legs and he pushed his member past my lips, holding my head in place as he began to fuck my mouth.

I had never experienced this kind of blow job before. In the past, I was always in control. Now, he was in command and he was ramming his cock into my mouth and down my throat, in and out, over and over, until I felt him swell impossibly larger before his cum began spurting, filling my mouth with the creaminess of his ejaculation. He pulled my head forward, burying it in his crotch, as he shuddered and I sucked the last drops out of him.

And that was our first night home.

As we laid side by side in our bed later that night, he explained that when it came to our sex life, he was always going to be in charge. I was to be at his disposal anytime, anywhere, and any way he wanted me. In exchange, I had access to his unlimited funds. He pledged his fidelity to me, I did the same.

Over the years, I honestly don't think either one of us would ever have the energy or the time to have an affair with someone else. Our sex life was active, to say the least.

The unfolding of a typical day for us begins with the alarm sounding at 5:30am. He wakes me up and I go downstairs to fix him breakfast while he showers and shaves. By the time he comes into the dining room, his food is waiting for him, I'm drinking my second cup of coffee and waiting for him, naked of course.

He eats his breakfast while I crawl under the table, open his zipper and suck on his cock. Sometimes he cums in my mouth before he finishes eating. If not, he will pull away from me, scoot his chair back and pull me up to sit on his lap so he can fuck me. Sometimes I face him, other times I face the table and lean over it while he pounds into me. Either way, he always cums before leaving for work in the morning.

I kiss him goodbye and watch him from the back doorway as he pulls down the driveway. On nice days, I even walk him outside to his car. Remember I told you he liked taking chances that people might see me naked? I don't think anyone ever could, though. Our yard was too private.

Anyway, he then leaves for work for the day. I go back inside and shower, dressing to suit whatever plans I have made for the day. Sometimes I stay at home, working out in the yard, or cooking. I love to cook, and will sometimes spend an entire day in the kitchen.

At least four mornings a week I go to the gym for two hours and work out. There are a lot of women there in the mornings and I've made some good friends. We often go to lunch from there, or shop together.

But no matter what I do, I am home by 5:30 pm when Jonathan walks through the door, ready and waiting for him.

I often wonder why I always comply with his commands, but remember I told you what he's like? He commands respect, and people just always do whatever he asks, including me. I suppose I could say no, but it's our own private game and he knows I like it as much as he does, so why bother arguing?

So, at his command, I am ready and waiting for him. I am stripped naked, bent over in the back hallway, with my ass in the air and waiting for him. There is a counter with cabinets along one wall, and it is this counter that I lean over. My hands reach behind me and pull myself open wide for him. I've already lubed myself in case he chooses to fuck me in my ass, which he does at least once or twice a week.

I get in position when I hear his car come up the drive so when he walks in, all he does is drop his briefcase, open his pants and shove his cock in me. He will slam into me, working out any frustrations from the day. When he's finished, he always reaches around and works my clit, bringing me to my own orgasm.

When I can breath again, I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips and greeting him home for the evening. He holds me, kissing me back and squeezing me tightly before I kneel in front of him and lick him clean, getting all of my juices and his cum off of him.

One time I didn't make it home before him. We had been married about six months by then. I was stuck in traffic from a major accident and by the time it cleared enough to get past, it was almost 6:00 pm. I flew into the house, dropping my purse and keys on the counter as I went in search of Jonathan.

"I'm so sorry! It was the traffic, I couldn't get here in time." I tried to explain as I found him sitting in the media room, watching the news. He didn't answer, just turned his head to look at me, and I knew I was in deep shit. "Jonathan, I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault!" I cried.

"Get down on your knees." His voice was low and angry. I dropped down immediately. "Now crawl up to our room." He pointed in the direction of the stairs across the front hallway.

I began to crawl on all fours, humiliated in this position, but no way was I going to make matters worse by not obeying. The cold marble floor in the front hallway hurt my knees as I crossed it. I could hear his footsteps behind me as I made it to the bottom of the staircase. I started climbing up the stairs, but when I reached the fifth step, he grabbed me by my hair, stopping me from going any further.