A Neglected Wife's Rebellion

She sat on her ass, her skirt then not tucked under it, and he smiled as he knew her wet panties were coating the seat with some of her wetness, like a primed brush on canvas. "It is ironic that you have been with such bad and undeserving lovers Melissa, because your oral skills are phenomenal," he praised her, and she smiled while he exited the car, and then came to open her door.

He took her hand and led her into the open-concept living room. From the garage, they entered past the laundry and into a backspace near the kitchen, which was all one big space with the eat-in area, bar, and a rather spacious living room, that had a gas fireplace. Only the dining room and guest restroom were their own separate spaces, as well as the stairway upstairs. The blinds were all shut, curtains drawn, and the lightning he had left was neither too dim, nor too bright, but had a warm, cozy inviting glow. Whether she read it or not, he had banked on bringing her here, and the preparations were already set. "Do you need the restroom?" He asked. She shook her head, as she looked about a living room that fit a bachelor pad look, but with plenty of class, and a fair amount of coziness. Everything looked clean, organized, and inviting.

He led her to a very low, comfortable-looking three-seat sofa, in a luxurious-looking darker beige and a material that was so soft and comfortable to sit on. She had sat her purse on his kitchen counter, and taken the middle seat, for she figured he was going to sit next to her, but he first walked to the bar cabinet, took two glasses, and poured three fingers of vodka into each. Ice was added to both and then a sweet tea was poured to top them off. He even pulled two slices of lemon from a glass in the fridge and added one to each drink. She watched him carefully, and with a smile. She knew all this seductive setup was in her honor, and she now really embraced how much he had hoped to have her over on the first evening, even if that meant he had banked on getting her out of her panties.

He sat down, but not next to her, but opposite her on a solid coffee table, higher than the one from the Starbucks, but still low, he placed one glass on his right, and one on his left. "Take whichever you want, and have as much as you want, it's strong, so go easy, or not at all but..." he came forward to kneel in front of her and boldly reached up her skirt, even though she was now sitting cross-legged. He placed a hand on each of the hip bands of her panties, and simply said, "Lift that sexy ass for me..."

By now Melissa knew not only that she wanted to obey him, but that obeying him felt good, and was becoming associated with things pleasing her right back, even if she would initially have resisted. She uncrossed her legs, lifted her ass enough off the seat, and otherwise moved in a way that let him easily slip her wet panties off her butt and hips.

They both then saw where the saturated fabric had to peel off her wet slit, and her cheeks again seemed to flush with a radiating pink glow. When the panties were at her knees, she could feel some parts of the wet fabric as he worked them past the joints and proceeded to pull them down her lower legs, and then off one dainty sandal-clad foot, and then the other. She immediately covered herself with her skirt, pampering the hem, looking at him wide-eyed, half amused, and half apprehensive. He sat back down, brought the panties to his nose, inhaled while making eye contact with her, and then put them into his right pocket, "Mine..."

She nodded, cheeks red, as she sat legs clenched together tightly, and pointed at him, while she fussed with her skirt, making sure her mound was sitting on it, and that for the moment, she would hide her modesty. But she was grinning shyly and extended a hand to take the glass to the left of him, taking a very light sip, and sitting it back down. Before her beautiful eyes returned to look at his timidly, and expectantly.

"Very cute panties, practically what a modest school girl usually wears under a uniform?" He asked, wanting a commentary, even though he knew the reasons.

"They are comfortable, form-fitting, and I really wasn't planning on having sex tonight, or I would have chosen a sexy black thong, or some silky lace," she answered modestly, but with a conviction that was again stating her honor, and hinted that his irresistibility and persuasiveness was also mixed with luck, for her to now be sitting on his couch commando under her skirt.

"A true lady, and I am glad you are here for the right reasons, otherwise I would not wish you to be here if you didn't want to be." He leaned back a little, comfortably, took a sip of the glass to his right, smiled at her, and continued, "And I would like you to know, that the everyday undies women wear, the comfortable bikini cut panties with cute bows, sexy prints and just a little bit of lace, are the underwear that most turns me on. But feel free to wear what makes you feel sexy or what your mood is, and perhaps, I may sometimes have a request, as we get more comfortable with each other."

"Sounds good! I love comfy panties but love to experiment some as well." Her smile was radiant but shy, for she felt he had more to say, and she wasn't sure what exactly was going to unfold next, but she was aroused, thinking back to just having had his cock in her mouth in the truck, and the whole evening in general.

Not wanting to lose momentum, but needing to get a few more things straight, Stan continued, "I am going to ask you to do something for me, and, like anything else, if you are not sure you want to do it, then don't. As we learn each other's needs, limits, and preferences, we just need to be open with each other about what is a yes, what is a maybe, and what is a no. So, if I ask for something you don't like or want to do, let me know. I do like to take charge and can be quite dominant, and I hope you like that. But always tell me if something is off."

Melissa nodded, in perfect understanding, and replied with a smile, "Your commanding tone and the way you take charge turns me on, as well as when you call me 'good girl' or dirty talk to me. I will be sure to let you know if something is not what I want, but generally, I have always fantasized about a man who could channel my submissiveness with his confidence and dominant manner. It is hot calling you 'sir' too, though I am not used to it and may forget, I hope out of the bedroom, it will simply be Stan," she winked shyly and added, "What would you like me to do now, as I am sitting on your couch, with my panties in your pocket?" Her look was playful, she was stating the obvious, but the anxiety of the unknown was showing, and she looked like she was about to get nervous, though overall her mildly drunk state still left her very playful and receptive.

Stan grinned again, in his suave and charming way, and nodded, saying, "Yes the 'sir' thing is for the bedroom, and I know you are not a robot to use it nonstop. Stan is also OK in the bedroom. I am glad that we are getting this out of the way because, I just wanted to make sure we are on the same page about button pushing, especially you, since I feel I may be doing more of the pushing..." He grinned at the innuendo, and she giggled with a soft blush. He took another deep breath and a smooth sip, and then looked at her, leaning forward a little, "I want you to put on a show for me, as I sip on my drink, by spreading your legs on that sofa, and playing with your pussy for me..."

Melissa raised her left eyebrow, and sat back, processing the request. She was still in that ideal blend of drunk but collected mind, and the fact that she had decided to come here, sucked his dick on the way over, and just surrendered her panties, were all a turn-on. By now she knew they would fuck, and was expecting sex, but not necessarily masturbating for him first. Horny as she was though, and trusting, the idea was very hot to her, but her shyness and modesty were acting like brakes, and he had not yet had a direct, and exposed look, at her legs spread for him, "Umm....wow...I wasn't expecting this...but I...guess I can..."

"Easy does it...keep your sandals on, they are hot. Just hike up your skirt, and place your feet at your sides, and let me see your pussy. Take some deep breaths, and then just rub, and give me a show. Try to have fun with it. You are so beautiful, and watching you masturbate, will be beyond explosive. Above all, I hope it makes you feel aroused, and turns you on." He grinned, taking another sip, he was getting into a deeper tipsy himself, and his inhibitions were getting lessened, and confident as he was, he was feeling even more emboldened.

Melissa bit her lip, breathed out heavily, closed her eyes, and shyly turned her face to the floor, while her eyes looked up at him, "You sir...are trouble!" She smirked and waved an accusatory finger at him. But the new sips of her drink had refreshed her level of drunkenness where she could think clearly but not really care too much about anything. And what he was asking from her, seemed utterly exciting and sexy.

Sighing, she grabbed her skirt with both hands, pulled it from both sides till all of the fabric was lifted above her waist, and then pushed back behind her. Her cheeks were flaring again, radiating warmth and looking red. One foot came off the floor, her left, and, elastic as she was, came to her left side as she would soon be crouching on the sofa. Mirroring this with her right, she suddenly found herself in a low crouch on the comfortable, but firm sofa. Biting her lip again, she lay back, just a little, because the back of the sofa was so close to her, and she remained fairly upright. Her eyes were locked on his, as she spread her thighs apart even more, and rotated them away from her as comfortably as she could, while she pushed her mound out at him, and her very eyes, and the look in them, seemed to speak to him, 'you asked to see my pussy, and here she is...'

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, as and let out a deep breath, as his hand fished for his glass, for he was not taking his eyes off her mound. Her pussy was puffy, with fleshy outer labia that squeezed so hard on her inner ones, that they showed in that delicate little way that made them just barely visible. While her labia were a beautiful hue of light pink, there was a hint of the lightest hues of brown too, and, as she had rotated her thighs out, the viscous honey could be seen glistening along the line where her inner lips were able to barely press out of her thick outer ones.

All of her labia looked swollen and full of color, as she was visibly aroused, and the only thing that was getting redder faster than her snatch was her cheeks, and the skin above her cleavage. He could see her tan lines now too, and the contrast of her milky pale panty area skin, to the rest of her more tanned body, really turned him on.

Her pussy was exposed for him now, her strawberry red face glowed with arousal, in direct conflict with her shyness, especially as she realized how bushy she was, and she reminded him again, "I wasn't planning on letting you fuck me tonight...my husband likes me shaved, but he doesn't even seem to mind the hair anymore. I was...umm..going to shave for the date when I was ready for sex." She giggled with adorable guilt, "but you accelerated us some..."

"Sweetheart...", he began, "I love the natural look of a woman. You do what you want, for yourself, or your husband, or both. I think you have a gorgeous pussy, and it will always be hot no matter how much hair you have, or remove. But I think it looks stunning in full natural bloom."

"I prefer it bushy myself...I feel like a woman this way..." She was playing with her ponytail now, nervously, with her right hand, her left hand bracing on the sofa for a bit of leverage. She added a little more boldly, "I also think the hair traps my scent and...umm...my scent turns me on." It was Stan's turn to raise an eyebrow, and his grin was quite large after Melissa made that last confession.

"Play with your pussy for me, Melissa..." The tone was a blend of requesting and commanding, but the final bit he added was a polite order, but an order nonetheless, "I want you to play till you are moaning!"

He noticed that her right hand left her ponytail, and took on the role of the left, steadying herself, while the left moved directly to the right where her smallish clit, covered by what he now not only knew but saw to be a meaty clitoral hood. He smirked as he saw her wedding band again, the big prominent diamond glistening on her ring finger, and she used the tips of her middle, ring, and index fingers to first rub her clit, then stroke down her labia, then returned to her clit, and made several quick twirls. Her mouth opened then, and let out the softest, but the hottest, wanton little moan.

"Good lord..." Stan said simply, despite all his experience with women, and the impression Melissa had that horny and skilled as he was, little truly impressed him like a novelty, he had the intense, lost-to-lust look of an inexperienced youth seeing porn for the first time. He smiled, "are you using your left hand because you know the wedding band turns me on so much?"

Melissa moaned again, as her digits took another diver down her wet slit, collecting her honey, and led it back to her clit, coating it in her wetness, and she giggled, saying as sweetly as she could while still teasing, "Stan, you look like you are about to drool...and no. Not that I mind that it turns you on for that reason, but I am right-handed and prefer to use it for my dildo, my left for the vibrator, or rubbing. But there is another reason I like to use my left hand..."

Stan blew her a kiss, and uttered, "Sweet Melissa, no one has pushed my buttons like this in a while, maybe ever, you are turning me on so much...now...play with that pussy some more! So why then the left hand, over the right, for masturbation?"

"Because it feels like someone else is doing it!" She smirked and blew him a kiss back. Emboldened, and feeling like she was doing things she had never known to do, even though they were instinct, she planted her left palm over her mons pubis, lifted all her digits at an angle, locked her eyes on his, and then brought them back down to slap her clit and labia.

'Pat, pat, pat,' came the rapid crescendo of controlled, firm and loud little slaps, the sound mesmerizing to Stan's ears, especially because the sound of them showed how fleshy she was, how swollen she was on top of having a meaty vulva, and, most importantly, that the slaps sounded wet, from the copious secretions that were oozing out of her, down her perineum, and onto her rosebud. He could just see it too, and in the light, he could see she had washed herself diligently.

She kept teasing him like that, loving his undivided attention, and her moaning got louder, as he took more sips, and watched the show, his expression was utterly lost in the beauty of her now eager and amused face, the hotness of her figure and curves that seemed like they had been drawn by some master artist, a pussy that looked like he had custom ordered its looks specifically for his taste, and especially the show she was putting on.

Despite the shy start, her confidence was growing in leaps and bounds, and it was showing in how she was pushing his buttons right back. Stan couldn't take it anymore, and while her drink was maybe just slightly started, he was nearing the bottom of his, and he had finally caught up to her level of optimal drunkenness, where 'utterly free' but 'with it' blended perfectly. His cock was hurting, from how hard it was pushing at his pants.

He unbuttoned his shirt, to give her something to look at, as she played with her pussy for him. Her eyes widened, as she soon saw live the strong hairy chest she had seen on one of his profile photos. Live he looked even more sexy. His arm muscles were so potent, the chest powerful and muscular. She could tell his upper body strength was well above average for most men his age. He talked to her a lot about his gym dedication, and 'it shows' she thought dreamily. The sight of his upper body now naked aroused her acutely, and she shyly rubbed and played with her snatch even more.

"Keep going!" He ordered, as he set his glass to his right, approached her to grab a pillow, and brought it to the floor where her feet had been when she had been sitting demurely after he had claimed her undies, and she was hiding behind her skirt. But her feet now had pushed even farther from her hips, and her thighs had rotated even more. He lowered himself to sit with his knees on the fat, soft cushion, and placed his left hand right under her right knee, while his right mirrored on the other side. She could see him licking his lips as she withdrew her hand from her pussy, and placed both of her hands a little behind her, at her sides, getting ready to brace herself. She knew he was about to eat her pussy.

And eat her pussy he did. Holding her legs, his strong and determined hands pulled them apart from each other even more, making her naturally push her mound out more, and she could see his warm and intense eyes, the left one winking at her, as he dove at her mound. He stuck his tongue out, licked from her perineum to her slit, up her labia, and then ended with a prodding lick at her clit.

She moaned, almost with a feral intensity. He hardened his tongue tip and then swirled around her clit, then pursed his lips around it, and suckled it, while still prodding with his tongue tip. She started to buck with her hips, and her body trembled. No one had ever eaten her pussy this good. As for Stan, Melissa's scent, her taste, the very bouquet of her hairy cunt, freshly showered and soiled with only two little bouts of peeing, and copious wave after wave of oozing her juices and secretions, her essence was intoxicating. He knew he would be eating her again and again. Both would be addicted to the experience.

He was a master. She felt he could make her cum with his mouth alone. He knew it too, but he had his reason for not letting her cum then. He simply edged her. And as soon as he knew she might be nearing an orgasm, he would go back to sliding his tongue up and down her labia, leaving her clit starved for attention when it needed it the most. This drove her wild.

Her furious little pearl was on fire, and from it, she felt waves of warm electricity shoot through her whole body. She was moaning like she was beside herself with a need to cum. But he knew her nature was such that, the more greedy and needy she was to orgasm, the more she would want a cock inside her. And he was banking on teaching her to be addicted to his. A few times he had pushed his tongue into her slit, just after she was so horny she was practically trying to fuck his tongue and lips with her clit, like it was a frustrated little phallus.

When she thought he had shocked her with his skills beyond anything she had ever experienced, he decided to treat her to something he only did for the cleanest of his lovers. Distracting her for a moment, he asked her to remove her top, and bra, which she did in earnest. The garments came off fast, and he could see them flying off to the side in his peripheral vision. In the meantime, he had let go of her legs to pull her ass closer to the edge of the sofa. Now his palms were square on her upper and inner thighs, and he prodded her apart even more, as she lay back topless, only her skirt remained rolled tightly around her upper waist.

She wasn't sure what exactly he was trying to do. He had given her a muff dive so good, she couldn't possibly imagine why he was lifting, tilting, and exposing her even more, as her hands braced even harder on the fabric of the sofa. He smiled a devilish grin, as he saw her breasts now, her fairly big areolae a similar color to her labia, and nipples that were thick, and large.