Nobody knows the shocking secret that my wife and I have kept from everyone around us for years. Nobody. Not our co-workers, not our family, not our friends. Nobody! To them, we are a perfectly “normal” couple who goes about their lives in the same routine and at the same pace as everyone else in our town.
Except we don’t. Not even close.
When everyone else goes home to have dinner with their kids, to read a book on the couch, to watch a movie in bed, we go home to a very different world. A world so twisted and deviant, I doubt any of our friends and neighbors realize it even exists. If they did, I’m sure they would never in their wildest dreams imagine that the quiet couple next door would take part in such scandalous endeavors. I don’t blame them. As a matter of fact, most people would probably struggle to grasp how such a lifestyle could possibly appeal to a loving married couple like us.
The truth is, neither could we. Until we were introduced to it by chance, and we loved every second of it from that moment forward.
Before I go any further, let me rewind and tell you how this all started.
My wife Bella and I met almost five years ago. Chemistry sparked between us immediately and our romance progressed very quickly. We were in love in no time, and the sex has been amazing from day one. Well, I should say “day two” since our first meeting was a quick introductory date over coffee. You know, the kind where you both inform each other that you have plans soon afterwards, that way you can end the date with that pre-emptive excuse if things don’t go well. Luckily, neither one of us opted out to initiate an escape. We were infatuated by one another almost immediately, and decided to meet the next day for a real date. The electrifying chemistry carried over, leaving us unable to keep our hands off of each other, the night culminating at her place covered in each other’s sweat and other bodily juices.
Bella later admitted that she would never in a million years have imagined sleeping with someone she had just met. She said she had surprised herself at how naturally the evening had progressed into a sexual encounter, and how she’d been left with few regrets after it was over. That made me incredibly happy to hear because it felt so natural for me as well. Believe it or not, getting into her pants had never been my objective that night. I thought we had something potentially great going on, and I wanted to concentrate on exploring that rather than navigating the shortest route into the bedroom. But I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t pleased that it happened. I was, and it was amazing.
Bella and I began seeing each other almost every day. The sexual chemistry between us grew intoxicating. Our sexual interactions became more and more intense as we explored each other’s minds and bodies, and when we had to say goodbye we both counted the hours until we could see one another again. When we reunited, sparks flew and our bodies eagerly fell into that dirty yet delicious dance over and over again, as if sex had become the drug to soothe our growing addiction.
I soon discovered her to be very submissive in the bedroom. I’m an alpha male in my day-to-day life and I love to be in charge behind closed doors as well, so her submissive personality was a perfect fit. She told me that she got off on nothing else but making sure her man was pleased and that her body was used for his pleasure. Do you know what it was like hearing that for the first time? At first, I wasn’t sure if she was just saying that to cater to what she knew I wanted to hear. Luckily, I quickly realized that wasn’t the case. Every time I did something sexually selfish and dominating, like abruptly and forcefully moving her body into a position better suited for me, her voice grew louder and she felt even wetter. You can’t fake that! She really did enjoy being “used and abused”. And that was incredibly arousing.
She admitted that she didn’t have many sex partners before we had met. Yet to my pleasant surprise, she got excited when I jokingly suggested putting her through what I called “slut training” to get her caught up.
“Are you sending me to a Slut University?” she playfully asked.
“I think it’s time you get some real life skills, baby,” I answered just as playfully.
“Have you done this with the other girls you’ve dated?”
“I would never recommend a school for you if I wasn’t personally assured that the professors there had adequate experience,” I cheekily replied to avoid saying ‘Yep, I’ve done it to other girls I’ve fucked, and now it’s your turn to be my slut’.
I wasn’t sure how she would take that. Luckily, she seemed to accept the answer by smiling and leaning in to give me a deep, sloppy kiss. And she wasn’t kidding. To my surprise, shortly after I got home that night, I received the following text message:
BELLA: This slut is ready for her first assignment, it read.
Now I knew she was into it for real, and my excitement skyrocketed at the thought of being able to engage her sexually even when I wasn’t physically there.
ME: Your first assignment is to think of the best sex you’ve ever had, I replied.
ME: Think of every thrust, every sound, every touch that made it amazing for you.
ME: Once your memories have made you as wet as you were that night, stick your fingers inside of you, give it a good swirl, pull them out and take a picture. Just the fingers.
ME: Send it to your professor for evaluation. He will determine if your pussy has done enough to pass the test.
ME: You have 24 hours to complete your assignment.
I was hard by the time I’d sent the last message and I couldn’t wait to see how she’d respond to this new twist in our relationship.
It didn’t take long for my phone to get a new message alert. I almost expected her to ask for some additional instructions, or for her to just let me know that she’d start her assignment as soon as she could. Instead, when I opened the new message I was greeted by an image that sent the blood rushing straight back to my cock. Not only was it a picture of two of her glistening fingers, but you could also see the gooey wet string that connected the space between them stretching her bubbling juices apart. It was the same kind of a string that I see bridging the gap between my balls and her pussy lips when I slightly pull out during our passionate encounters. The picture was so juicy that I could almost smell her in the air.
I hope professor is pleased with my work, her next message read.
Excellent work. There will be a lab test tomorrow for extra credit. Please be prepared to impress, I replied, a huge grin spreading across my face as I hit the send button.
This was another sexual experiment that could not have gone any better with my new lover and, what I found myself hoping for at the time, long term partner.
In the following days and weeks, she consistently requested and completed more and more of her “slut training” exercises, keeping both of us aroused and on our toes. One such assignment was for her to find a public bathroom and sneak in; she would take out her lipstick, scribble “I’m your slut” on the mirror, and take a selfie with it. It was dangerously exciting because she would have to rush to get it done without being caught. At the end of the day she had completed that assignment successfully, and the look on her face in the picture was priceless, a touch of nervousness paired with an almost proud, flushed smile. What a dirty little girl she was becoming, and I could claim responsibility for the entire thing. Had I created a monster? Sometimes she would complete similar tasks without any request from me whatsoever, little personal assignments that she called “extra credit”. She loved reminding me that her pussy was always at my service and it belonged solely to me for my sexual pleasures.
Her subsequent “assignments” followed the same trend. She executed them quickly and precisely and would ask for more shortly after, as if unable to get enough of the thrill of being my dirty little sex slave. It was arousing to have such an amazing sexual connection with her. That connection has persisted regardless of whether we are in each other’s physical presence or miles apart.
When we saw each other in person, I made certain to treat her like the dirty little slut she was hoping to become while we were in the bedroom, and she absolutely loved it. I would hold her down to make sure she could only move when I let her. She willingly submitted control of her movements, her sounds, and her pleasures to me. If she didn’t arch her back enough for my cock to be fully sheathed inside of her I’d pull her hair back until I bent her into the perfect position. Her mouth would fall open a little as her head went back, her toes curled up, and her cute little ass pushed into my stomach as my cock finally pierced her all the way to the hilt, making her juices overflow and run down her inner thighs. She simply loved to be treated as a blowup doll whose only purpose was to let me have my way with her and receive load after load of my seed as I repeatedly emptied my balls into her pliant body. It was incredibly hot for both of us.
Bella also loved to wear sexy little outfits for me around the house. It was impossible to not get aroused when she was constantly flaunting her tight little body. One of my favorites were the tiny boy shorts that barely covered her ass crack on top. On the other end you could see her cute round ass cheeks peeking out from beneath the fabric. Her ass bounced inside of them as she walked and drove me absolutely crazy. Another thing that drove me crazy was the belly shirt that exposed a healthy slice of skin above her shorts so that you could see her cute belly button. She rarely bothered with a bra and it was easy to see the outline of her round breasts as they gently swung with every step, the sharp peaks of her nipples pushing out against the soft fabric.
We shopped for those provocative outfits together, so that she could model them for me at the store before we bought them. Once in a while as I watched her change in a dressing room, I would catch her in a moment between outfits and slip my cock inside of her when she was least expecting it. She knew she couldn’t make any noise and seeing her struggle to stay quiet while I pushed further inside of her was extremely erotic. We could hear people talking and changing only a few feet away from us, yet they had no idea what was happening just on the other side of our thin fitting room wall, a fact which only further turned us both on.
By this point in our relationship, we’d had an amazing time with each other for many months, and everything about our relationship had fallen into place. We had explored many different pleasures and had enjoyed many different nights experimenting with each other’s minds, and our bodies followed. Like teenagers who snuck out of their bedrooms to be away from everyone and everything, we were both full of energy and eager to find out what the future had in store for us next, and we were ready to face it head on. Pun intended.