She rolled on her side and watched him sleeping. His strong facial features were softened by sleep and she pretended not to notice his quiet snore. His soft brown hair had started to get a little shaggy, she would have to remind him to get a haircut. She traced a finger through his full mustache where it was starting to gray. She had argued against his coloring it as she had considered that gave him a distinguished look.
She recounted their twenty years together in a brief moment as happy and content. His indiscretions were few and had hurt her. Though her initial reaction was pain and uncontrollable anger she had eventually been able to accept them and him with compassion and understanding.
He was a borderline sex addict, so said their marriage counselor. She had known that when they were initially married. At the time it was exciting, as he brought out a passion from within her that she hadn’t known existed. But, with the years it had gradually worn her down, she felt she could never do enough to satisfy him. And, giving in to him on “favor” he wanted, always led to another “bigger favor”, even further outside her comfort zone.
She had come to believe at times there was no way of winning with him, better to say “no” before things got out of hand. The therapist said that he used her as his moral gauge; if she would do it, it must be okay. It left him free to construct fantasies and then try to get June to do them with him without considering any of the consequences. The line between fantasies and reality was a fuzzy line at best in his head. His approach left June often on the defensive, but not this time, she thought.
She was, by nature, shy, quiet, and reserved. Prim, some might say. They had met in college. She was drawn to his intellect and confidence, he to her innocence and delicate disposition. He was very experienced in all things carnal and was fascinated by her naivete. He relished teaching her all there was to know about sex, the male body, and her own unexplored desires and sexual triggers.
Their marriage had the normal ups and downs of most. It was during one of the lows when she had become wrapped up in the day-to-day of motherhood and taking care of a family that he felt neglected and dejected and had allowed himself to be swept up into an affair… or a few affairs, as it were.
He was constantly finding women on line that shared one perversion or another with him. She had grudgingly accepted these Internet encounters as harmless and even invited him to share the latest ones in bedtime discussions. Once out in the open, they did not seem as threatening to her.
They loved each other and had come out of it a stronger more communicative couple.
This brought her reverie back to the gift she had stashed in the closet. She silently slipped from the bed to the wash room to freshen up. She asked him to stay home from work today so that he could get caught up on the “honey-do” list but her true plan was to reintroduce the MCD, the Male Chastity Device, and finally satisfy one of his fantasies.
She took a moment to take a personal assessment in the mirror whilst brushing her hair. She was petite, only 5 foot 2 inches with a narrow waist and wide hips from having had two children. Her rear-end was a bit more plump than she liked but he assured her he liked it that way. She had given in to his requests for her to get breast augmentation a couple years earlier and, she admitted to herself, she was very pleased with the results. Her, now, C-cup breasts filled the lacy red negligee beautifully.
She began to pull her shoulder length hair into its usual knot at her nape then decided against it, letting it just tumble and wave around her face. Her skin was clean of makeup, which revealed a light speckle of freckles across her nose. She had gone tanning several times throughout the last couple of weeks in preparation for today and the tan lines from her bathing suit seemed more provocative to her than having an all over tan.
She leaned in towards the glass and pulled the skin tight against her hairline inspecting the wrinkles around her almond shaped green eyes. She considered that they didn’t really take much away from her looks they just seemed a bit out place. Playing Robert’s silly sex games always made her feel younger than her age. She supposed that was a good point to dwell on.
June stopped by the hall closet to look at the MCD and imagine herself strapping it on him and acting the part of a mistress . She had been surprised at how much it weighed when Fed Ex delivered it, and now, as she held it up it struck her as a formidable device.
As a final thought, she checked her hiding place for the keys, a loose piece of carpeting in the corner of the room. She made a mental note to find a better place for the keys. There was as much of a chance of him finding the keys, as him doing the vacuuming. The thought had her nerves doing jumping jacks in her tummy so she tip toed back to bed and feigned sleep while she considered her actions to come.
From June: June is not my real name of course, but I am writing the story above as it plays out in real life. Robert has given me control of his “Lush Stories” account, new password, etc. until he fulfills his promises in the game we are playing. Robert is writing a log of his experience with the MCD that will be posted by me in due course.