Our Nineties Marriage My wife and I are happy to be a Nineties kind of couple. That's Seventeen Nineties, mind you. We have the kind of household where the man is in charge, the woman does her duties, and we all live happily ever after. Now, should you be a feminist, or even a so-called "modern" woman, this type of living arrangement might be considered shocking, or at least a bit bizarre. But it's an arrangement that keeps both of us happy. And isn't that the idea behind marriage? Were you to observe us from a distance, we wouldn't look too different from your typical modern couple. It's not like my wife, Kate, walks two steps behind me. That's another culture. In fact, you'd see me behaving as a gentleman should; opening doors for her, holding her coat for her, allowing her to order first in any restaurant. You might notice that she never drives when I'm in the car, although that hardly makes us unusual. You might notice that at a party she always gets the drinks for us, and always checks with me before wandering off to talk with the other women. And were you especially observant, you might notice that when I make the decision to leave, we leave. Even if you were to live with us for a while, you'd be hard put to discern a huge difference between us and today's liberated couples. Although she stays home during the day, Kate gets up and makes me breakfast every morning, packing me a lunch for the day as well. She keeps the inside of the house spic-and-span, while I tend to all the outside work, as well as the heavy-duty repair jobs. Were you a visitor to our home, you might notice that I make all the decisions as to what we watch on TV, listen to on the stereo, and which movies we go to see. Kate's preferences are limited to when I ask her opinion, which is only somewhat less often than some wishy-washy couples. But when she does offer a preference, I give it the respect it deserves. So, to most observers, on most days, our marriage would appear to be almost normal. On some days and nights, though, we'd take you to a different century. Take this past Friday, for instance. I'd stayed up late working on two reports for work, despite the fact that certain members of my team hadn't provided the needed information. My task, then, was to write the reports in such a way that the holes didn't seem quite so big, without making assumptions and projections that could be traced back to me. All that to prepare for a Saturday afternoon progress meeting scheduled by my boss, who has no concept of rest and relaxation. So, suffice it to say that by midnight on Friday, my nerves were frazzled and my mind was racing a mile a minute. When I finally climbed into bed at one in the morning, Kate had probably been asleep for an hour and a half. I knew I wouldn't get to sleep until I'd calmed down a bit. So I decided to do what any nineties husband would do. Sliding between the sheets, I quickly rolled onto my side and reached out for my wife. Because I like it, she wears loose fitting babydolls to bed, with panties that are tied on each hip for easy removal. Kate's body never ceases to turn me on. At five-foot-nine, she's just two inches shorter than me. Right now her hair is full, blond and long, reaching the middle of her back. Sometimes I have her cut it or style it differently so it feels like I'm making love to another woman. But for now I'm in a long hair stage. Her body is perfectly proportioned for my taste, with her 38C breasts, 26-inch waist and 36-inch hips. As you can see, it highlights her bust, which fascinates me to no end. But that's not to say that I'm not equally enamored by what's between her long legs. And I love that I can have it any time I want. Without any regard for her rest, (after all, I am the husband), I slip my hand under the sheer babydoll and grasp the nearest tit. While the contact causes her to stir, she doesn't awaken, even as I gently run my fingers and palm around and around her soft flesh. I smile in the dark as her nipple swells and hardens. My cock, too, has begun to harden, though not nearly beginning to reach its full length of seven-and-a-half inches. Curious as to the actual state of her arousal, I reach down and tug on the tie nearest me, releasing one side of the g-string. Running my fingers through her thin bush, which she keeps trimmed in a small patch, I slide a finger down to her slit. Pausing on the outside for only a moment, I thrust my index finger inside her, just far enough to feel if my ministrations have produced a wet response. I find her upper regions to be dry, but on a whim I probe deeper, finding a damper environment, but only the normal body fluids. My incursion, though, has brought her out of her dream state, though she's still not fully awake. Leaving my finger inside of her for the moment, I reach back up with my other hand and find her nipple, giving ita good hard yank. This really wakes her up, though I can tell by her gasps that she's more turned on than upset. Another twist of her hard nipple confirms this, as she moans deep in her throat. But she still just lays and waits for my next move. She knows only to do what I tell her. Before I met Kate, I never would've imagined treating a woman so roughly. But as we were dating, during what we now call our courting period, we came to understand what made the other tick. I told her that I liked things done a certain way, that I liked more structure in my life. I'm not compulsive obsessive, or freakish about things not going my way. But I'm selfish about my pleasures, and I love sex in all its forms. But nothing ruins it for me more than begging or even asking for it. To my delight, Kate agreed. She too liked a lot of structure in her life, and often felt bewildered by the many roles women are forced to play in modern society. Indeed, a man taking her and using her only enhanced her pleasure. And the rougher I did it, the better she liked it. When she yelled "Harder, harder!" during sex, she really meant it. In the four years we've been married, we've explored a whole gamut of sexual expression. Kate has proven that she has a very high tolerance for pain. And that the Nineties life we've chosen to lead is the right one for her. I count myself as lucky to have found a woman who shares my beliefs, not to mention one as beautiful and sexy as Kate. Transferring my attention back to her slit, I wiggle the finger entrenched in her trench, then use my other fingers to part her pussy lips. The moisture's beginning to build, but she's still not wet enough for my taste. Mind you, I could pull open her legs and fuck her any time, whether she's ready or not. Sometimes she's dry as a bone when I stick my dick inside her. It's just that this time I'm looking forward to the exquisite pleasure of my cool cock plunging into a hot, wet pussy. Without warning, I flick on the reading light that's attached to the bedpost. Before me lays my Kate, her hair disheveled, her eyes blinking from the light, her body tensely anticipating another brutal incursion. A light sheen of sweat has begun to gather between her tits, and the area around the nipple I've been playing with is an ugly red. The sheer material of the babydoll is pushed up around her neck. And the g-string is still only partially undone, hiding more than it reveals. I take it all in hungrily. My cock hardens even more at the feeling of control that sweeps me. When her eyes adjust to the light, she looks at me with annoyance. I don't know why she's annoyed. At being awakened at one? At my rough handling of her tits? At not fucking her right away? I don't care. This is all about my pleasure. In response, I grab her boob again, squeezing it hard in my hand. The soft flesh puckers out between my fingers, and as I hold and squeeze harder it balloons upward, forming a knob. Yanking my other hand from her cunt, I slap it down hard on this boob knob, spanking it with the palm of my hand. Kate yelps each time, then moans as I lean over and take the engorged nipple in my mouth. I can suck on her nipples for hours on end, and have done so on many occasions. Kate has orgasmed just from this stimulation, too, although that's not usually my primary motive. I lick, nip and chew on her brown nub, before squeezing as much of her tit into my mouth as I can. That's another game I play, just for the heck of it. Releasing her tit, I watch with satisfaction as it quickly retakes its former voluptuous shape. Sometimes, just for fun, I'll have her wear a push- up bra under a tanktop, and then take her to the mall or some other crowded place. Then I just watch the faces of the other men as we parade around. We've even watched some couples start fighting over their husband's roving eyes. A Nineties couple would never fight over that. I can look at, and do, whatever I want. Placing my hand back between her legs, I say my first words of the night, "Wife, strip." With those two words I've established her role for the evening. When I call her "wife" she knows that she's to do only what I tell her. Her own pleasure is of no import tonight. And by telling her to strip, it means that I've got no set plans; I'm just following my curiousity and whims. If I said "Honey, show me how much you love me," that would be her clue to use her imagination to get me off, whether it's a striptease, a blowjob or anything else. "Let me show you how much I love you" is a clue that I'll be ministering to her needs for a while. If I said, "I'm gonna fuck your brains out," it's a good compromise. I'll do what I want and she works to help me along. The ultimate way to address her is "Slave," which tells her that she must be completely submissive and fearful, and that I'm probably in the mood to try something new. It takes only a few moments for her to remove the top and bottom, leaving her naked and open to any of my urges. Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. She knows that I can and will do anything to her that I want. She can see that my cock is now fully engorged, a drop of pre-cum gleaming on the tip. It's a cock she knows intimately. One day I made her suck and lick it for four straight hours. She's worn my cum on every part of her body, and its taste is as familiar to her as any food. "Spread your legs," I order. She expects me to start there, but I only want to test the waters and see if she's primed. "Put your fingers in and see how wet you are," I tell her, watching intently as she quickly follows my instructions. Using one hand to part her pussy lips, she dips one and then two fingers into her cunt, her long fingernails spearheading the mission. When she pulls them out I can see her juices glistening in the light. As she sucks her wetness from her fingers, I dip my own hand in, pleased to find that she's not only soaking but also hot as an oven. At a gesture she flips over so I can take her doggy style. When her legs become entangled in the sheets, wasting precious moments, I slap her on the ass with my hand, "Don't make me wait, cunt." Finally she's positioned, her head leaning down on her forearms, her legs spread apart, and her ass canted up waiting for my cock. In this position the folds of her pussy are fully visible, puffed out by desire and shorn of any pubic hair. Just above it is her pink rosebud, the entrance to her tight little anus. I take her anally a lot, especially during her period, so I can get off without getting messy. Suddenly, the urge overtakes me. Her cunt might be too wet, too welcoming. But her asshole is sure to be nice and tight. I reach over to the shelf and take the bottle of lube, making sure to shield my actions from Kate. Usually I have her lube me up and she offers her ass to me. But this time it'll be a surprise. I poise myself over her, grinning in anticipation. She gasps as the cold lube touches her skin, higher than she'd expected. Then she shudders as my cock splits her ass, making its inevitable descent. Her ass is as tight as I'd hoped, and the outer muscles continue to squeeze my cock, clearly reacting to this unexpected intrusion. I pump her for a while, enjoying the sight of my cock disappearing into this sinful hole. Then I lean my full weight down on her, my cock still impaled in her ass, and grip her tits in both hands. This is my favorite rest position, where I can grope and caress her tits while I whisper dirt and filth into her ear. "I have you now, you slutty bitch. My cock is in your ass. Think of it there, stopping you up. Soon you'll be sucking that very same cock. And eating the cum that your ass has warmed up. You'd like that, you fucking slut, wouldn't you? That's all you think about, isn't it? Just having someone fuck your ass. You with your big tits and tiny ass. But now your mouth, and your ass, and your tits and your cunt is mine. You're my cunt, aren't you now? Mine." Sometimes I'll make up little fantasies, like how I'm gonna use her to finally get a promotion. How I'll make her dress up like a whore and go into the boss' office and suck and fuck him until I get a raise. How I'll trade her services once a week to get a company car. How she'll spend an entire day crouching under his desk, sucking him off as he makes business calls. And how she'll sleep my way to the top, doing executive after executive until I make Vice President. And how I might then give her to the entire board of directors to use one night, inviting them to fill all her holes at once, and to leave her smeared and covered in executive cum. Thinking about her eating my cum makes me want her lips wrapped around my cock. When I pull out she quickly grabs an antiseptic wipe and lotion from the shelf, cleaning any residue from my dick and balls. We practice the safest sex, and I surely don't want to endanger her health in any way. Since she's still on her hands and knees, I give her butt a few solid whacks, just for the heck of it. Sometimes I spank her for discipline, if she's displeased me. Sometimes to make a point, if she disagrees with me. And sometimes for fun, just because I can. Tonight, though, my cock is urging me to other distractions, so I barely hit her long enough to bring a blush to her skin. Wrapping my arms around her, I roughly flip her over and then climb atop her, straddling her stomach. I love how her tits flatten against her body, save for her nipples which persist in straining forward, begging for release. Lower still, my stiff cock throws a shadow against her pale skin. It's an erotic image, though not particularly symbolic of our relationship. I urge Kate to take my cock in her hands, and bare my teeth as I let the animal passion free in my veins. Her small hands can barely cover the shaft. My balls dangle heavily against her. My cock throbs in time with my heart. Lurching forward, I shove my cock deep into her mouth, as forcefully as I would take her steaming cunt. Her teeth rake my skin until she has a chance to adjust. She knows that this is no blowjob she'll be giving, but rather a mouth fuck that she'll be receiving. I pump at her mouth, barely feeling her tongue as my cock pushes it back in her throat. She grabs at my ankles, the only solid purchase she can get, desperately pressing herself into the bed to lessen the impact of my thrusts. My balls bang against her chin with every stroke. In seconds my whole crotch is covered with her hot, wet spit. I'm not afraid of cumming too quickly. I have great recovery time, and I know already that this is going to be a long night. I lean forward and balance against the headboard, lengthening my strokes. Kate now has the time to clamp her lips firmly against my shaft before I start every downstroke. The added sensations are incredible. I look over to the mirror on the wall to see myself savagely mouth-fucking a beautiful blond woman. Her tits press against my ass. The image alone is enough to set me off. I crush down on her face, smashing against her nose, and let loose a stream of cum into the back of her throat. I withdraw slightly as the next spurt erupts, this time coating the inside of her mouth with my salty seed. I pull all the way out in time to deposit my final large spurt on Kate's lips, nose and cheeks, the milky white fluid forming pearls on her skin. Good wife that she is, she doesnıt flinch in the least, but just swallows the stuff in her mouth and leaves the rest on her face. She knows that the night isnıt over, not by a longshot. And the cum on her face might just play a role in something I want to do down the line. Indeed, I do feel the urge to play one of my favorite games. Taking my still hard cock in my hands, I use the head to paint the cum all over her face. I pay particular attention to her lips, cheekbones and eyebrows, pleased by the way it adds a glossy sheen to her features. The remainder I simply smeared across her neck before wiping my cock clean in her hair. While the orgasm had drained some of the tension from me, I still feel too hyped up to get a good nightıs sleep. This, I decide, would make a perfect time to add to our photo collection. Grabbing the digital camera from the shelf, I give Kate no time to prepare before taking the first picture, a nice shot of the cum gleaming on her face and in her hair. Aiming down a little more, I capture a great shot of my cock nestled between her legs. And climbing off of her, I take a good series of photos in which she reveals the velvety pink of her cunt by gradually opening her legs. By now I m really into the spirit of the game, so I grab a bunch of sex toys from the shelf and tell her to go to town. What follows is shot after shot of my wife with dildoes in every orifice, with vibrators pinned between her legs, and with every crevice and curve of her body available for all to see. It is this penchant of mine that Kate dislikes the most. Understand, if I were just taking these pictures for my own viewing, she wouldnıt care that much. But Iıve discovered the thrill of posting them onto the Internet. In fact, very little excites me more than pulling up a web page and seeing my wifeıs picture her stiff nipples and open pussy there for all to see. Sometimes Iıll even sit and imagine whatıs going on in some guyıs house or office. How he reacts when he sees a particularly graphic photo of my wife, like the one where sheıs licking my fresh cum off her own swollen tit. I think about that guy pulling his cock out of his pants and pumping it in his fist, his eyes taking in every detail of the photo, his heart wishing he was me. Then I imagine that heıs actually there, and that the cum thatıs flowing over is fist is actually falling in hot, sticky beads onto my wifeıs writhing body. Knowing that hundreds of men might masturbate over my wife is a tremendous turn-on, especially when I remember that I can do what they can only dream about. When I first started shooting pictures of her, Kate would wear a mask to conceal her identity. (I know thereıs a lot of sickos out there, and itıs my responsibility to protect her as much as possible.) Now, though, I use my computer to alter her face and hair color. Iıve gotten quite good at it. If you compared a retouched and unretouched photo, youıd never guess it was the same person. For all that, Kate is still shy about exposing herself like that. But it gives me a lot of pleasure, so I do it anyway. This night I pull her from the bed and order her to put on a show for me. Iıve invested quite a bit of money in all kinds of lingerieover 200 kinky, slutty, sweet and sensuous outfits. She knows exactly what I want, returning in a white four- piece set: a sheer bra that barely contained her tits, a sheer g-string that revealed more than it concealed, lacy garters, thigh-high stockings and deadly two-inch stilletto heels. And she remembers my preference when wearing such an outfit I like her to wear the g-string on the outside of the garters, so that when she removes her panties, her cunt is well-framed by the garters and stockings. I pause for a moment to decide where to hold my impromptu photo shoot. Most of the amateur porn you see is shot in the bedroom, but I find that to be uninspiring. This sluttish outfit needed a harsher environment. Pausing only to grab a couple of memory chips, I lead Kate down to my workroom in the basement. It turns out to be the perfect spot, if youıve ever seen the pictures. The contrast between Kateıs sleek curves and the hard edges of all the wood and tools make for some great shots. Kate follows my instructions to the letter despite the lateness of the hour. She pouts, poses, flirts and pants for the camera, removing her clothing bit by bit to reveal her lust-filled little body. By the time I use up my memory chips, sheıs down to just the stockings and high heels, sitting on the workbench with her pussy spread and a small lock- wrench attached to one breast. Seeing her like that, and knowing that the pictures would cause many a cum-filled fantasy, I order her to the floor and fuck her right there. After only a few strokes I feel the familiar pull as she orgasms against me, and listen with satisfaction as her moans and cries echo through the basement. Kate might not like me publishing her picture, but she sure seems to like everything that leads up to it. And, I suspect, it turns her on when I order her to go along with the publication of the photos. So everyone wins. After fucking her thoroughly, I lead her back upstairs, noting that the clock read 3:30. While I was beginning to get tired, I still had a good hard-on, and donıt want to waste it. So I settle on the couch and have Kate pop one of our many porn tapes into the VCR, before calling her back to me to lick and suck my cock for a while. Iım not surpised when Kate takes a look at the open drapes, and then at me, before settling down to her task. If our neighbors in the back had been up, theyıd easily be able to see my nude wife leaning over me and administering a well-deserved blow job. I donıt care. If they havenıt already seen Kate nude during one of her topless days, they never will. A topless day is just that a day when I order Kate to go without a bra or top all day long. I usually make her do that on a weekend or one of my vacation days. Itıs because I love her tits so much, I want to be able to see and touch them at all times. And, Iıll admit, I do it because I want to make sure she knows whoıs in charge. Usually she just wears jeans and panties, without any socks, because I think itıs an incredibly sexy look. Sometimes, though, Iıll have her wear a skirt with no panties, so I can just flip it up and stick my cock in any time I want. On topless days she will just do whatever she normally does, like clean the house, wash clothes, or cook meals. If youıve ever seen a woman washing the floor on her hands and knees, her tits swinging to and fro, you know what an erotic sight it is. And if Kate does need to go out, sheıs not allowed to wear a bra. Just a shirt or something. Bras are forbidden on topless day. As the porn tape played, I watch my wife blow me for all she was worth. She knows to put forth her best effort everytime, no matter how she really feels. Iım proud to say that Kate has never had the kind of ³headache² that seems to afflict other women as soon as their husbands want some attention. Sheıll roll on her back and spread her legs on just a word, or even a look from me. Thereıs been times when Iıve wanted a blowjob in the middle of dinner, and she just finishes chewing her mouthful, slides under the table, opens my fly and sucks the cum straight out of my balls. Then she crawls back up and continues eating as if nothing has happened. Well, thatıs not totally true. Everytime she gets some of my cum, sheıs sure to say ³thank-you² for it. As she should. After half an hour Iım sick of the porn tape, and we retire back to the bedroom. Kate looks exhausted, but I m not done with her yet. I had that big meeting coming up, and Iıve always believed that unrelieved sexual tension tends to fog the mind. So I needed a way to blow my wad. Thatıs when I decide to turn to an old reliable turn-on. Another thing that Kate hates but has to put up with. See, I wasnıt the first one to think of taking pictures of Kate having sex. In college, she had joined an exclusive sorority. One of the initiation rites was to play hostess at a large party. And one of the duties of the hostess was to spend a half hour at the glory hole, servicing the many male guests. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, the woman kneels inside a plywood box, or behind a door, in which holes have been cut. The lucky guy sticks his hard cock into the hole and the woman on the other side sucks him off. Ideally, you never know who the sucker or suckee is. At this party, however, they photographed every girl as she knelt naked in the box. Photographed her sucking. Photographed her playing with herself. Photographed her smeared and speckled with the cum from a dozen young cocks. And one day, as I was surfing the Net, I came upon a whole series featuring my wife doing just that. How the pictures came to be on the Net I still havenıt established, but theyıre of enough quality that you can clearly see that itıs her. Since then, Iıve assembled all of them onto a video tape, which I like to play sometimes when Iım giving her a good fuck. Kate cringes as I put the tape in and start it. The first picture is a close-up of her mouth wrapped around a thick, heavy cock. Her eyes are open with delight, sheıs holding it with both hands, and her cum-spattered hair gleams in the flash from the camera. As I fuck her I ask for details about this cock and the rest. How did they taste? Did you swallow all the cum? Were you always a slut? Would you have spread your legs for them if they asked? Do you want to do it again? Her answers excite me so much that I slam my cock into her with more and more ferocity. I believe that sheıs telling the truth when she says sheıs willing to hostess another party like that, and kneel before the glory hole. I believe her when she says sheıd do it if I told her to, that sheıd suck cock or spread her legs or open her ass to anyone I said. As I cum with a primal scream, Iım already giving serious thought to hosting such a party. Sheıd do it, no doubt. Any Nineties woman would.