by Derrin Hart
Tiny was at full four inch attention. She stroked me and I came too fast. She locked me up with a smile. “You see how hard you were, honey? This is what chastity is all about. I need this, don’t deny me.”
“Catherine,” I growled, “give me the key. I can’t keep wearing this thing.”
She got up and started to leave the living room. She was as upset as I. “You just don’t listen, do you?” she pouted. She wanted me horny all the time and ready for her. I was to be like her slave. I was about to say no fucking way, when she announced in a stern voice, “Take it off and you’ll get a new me.”
“What does that mean?” I said.
She just looked at me with narrowed eyes and stormed off. I had no choice. She still had the key.
The days went by and man was I jittery. I needed orgasms.
Cat finally gave in again a week later. She had me do household chores and later lick her pussy for an hour straight. She let me out afterward, and I was hard, but this time she wanted insertion. I was locked back in my device.
Another week passed before she milked me again. She let me out only after I satisfied her for two long cunt-lapping hours. She had three orgasms before unlocking me and jerking me off in seconds.
Still she was not fully satisfied. She spent too much time online seeking adventures and her newest idea was way out there. She was interested in swinger parties. It appeared that in Boston, adult gatherings were being held every month or so called Mandingo parties.
She had done a search and found this info online. It seemed she searched using the phrase, “sex-craved wife needs taking care of.”
We argued a lot about the chastity device. My cock and balls were sore. Keeping my little dicklet in the tube was a pain. I kept it up to keep her happy. Because I obeyed, she dropped the swinger party stuff. I let her be my only source of sexual release. I did my best to make her happy and I was rewarded well. She had me do some serious landscaping work one weekend and I all but pulled my back out. However, I was told that Sunday night I would get a special milking. I worked my ass off and Sunday night could not come soon enough.
Catherine had been shopping and was excited to show me her new purchases. I was led to the bedroom late Sunday night after the girls were in bed. The fashion show was about to begin. She had several outfits to show me. The first was a skimpy Catholic school girl outfit. The white shirt, the plaid green and black micro mini skirt, and the high lace stockings made her look unbelievable. She wore heels with it and pranced about in front of me. I was sore and semi-stiff in my cage. I NEEDED OUT!
Her next outfit was so sexy. She came out of the bathroom in the most amazing corset type lingerie outfit. The color was peach with matching stockings and thong panties. I was so excited to get out of my cage, I began to beg. She came to me and teased me ever so slowly.
“Honey, please release me,” I pleaded, “I will do whatever you ask.”
She smiled and caressed my cheek. “Soon, my darlin’,” she whispered. “Just be patient.”
She made me remove her lingerie and eat her pussy. I devoured her cunt. I traced the alphabet all over her clitoris. She was on the brink but pushed me away. “I have another outfit, babe,” she announced and trotted off again. Next she came out looking like an angel straight out of heaven. She was all in white with a long-sleeved gown, flowing arms, and a tight waistline. She had placed wings over her back and had on strappy white heels. This attire look so delicate yet sexy as hell … please excuse the pun.
Next she came back in a nurse’s outfit, and then lastly in just a plain white t-shirt. I was like, you got a t-shirt? It didn’t matter; she whirled about, showing me her bare ass and pudgy cunt flaps, and I was sold. She unlocked my restrainer and my cock sprung to its full four inch hardness. She made me lick her again and this time she came. I was allowed to enter her but felt little—she was too swollen and open—yet I still exploded in less than two minutes. She was happy I got hard and put in the time to make her orgasm.
My landscaping came out well, too.
We cuddled in bed and Catherine talked for over an hour. “I love you, Michael, very much. It’s just that I feel so sexual these days. I’m happy. I can relax now and I’m at a great point in my life. I just want a lot of sex, and your cock is not big enough for me!” Wait a minute, I thought, what did she just say? Catherine held me and kept talking. “I find myself more than ever flirting with other men, imagining them making love to me, fucking me like you will never be able to do. It’s not that I don’t love you. I do and I love our life. I just need more. I think those parties I told you about would be a good outlet.” Catherine was stroking my little cock and it was getting hard again.
“We can share stuff together,” she insisted. “We can go out together. I will never take my wedding band off or my diamond ring. I’m yours, Mike, it’s just that I need more.” She went down on me, sucking Tiny. She swallowed me fully, deep-throated all I had. She made me cum and I was amazed she took it all in her mouth. She did it with no hesitation. Later she locked me back up.
In the morning she was gone to work before I had left. A note was waiting for me.
To have and to hold
From this day forward
For better, for worse
For richer, for poorer
In sickness and in health
To love and to cherish
Till death do us part
She ended the note with “I love you!”
My life was crazy. I headed out to work. Today was a day of too many computer viruses, and several new work stations that I was expected to set up in very little time. I ended up working a twelve-hour shift.
That night Catherine told me she’d be willing to let me out of my cock sleeve if I went to the drugstore and bought condoms. I said, “That’s sort of silly. We don’t use them. After all, I’m already vasectomy safe.”
She kissed me passionately and said, “They’re not for you, husband.” I was taken aback. I was about to get into a heated talk, but she stopped me and again said, “I will let you out and give you a reward, Michael.” I agreed, envisioning another lingerie show like last night, and was excited.
Tuesday morning the four of us had breakfast together. Julie had not taken the time to get out of her jammies and this was hard to deal with. Her top was nothing more than a tiny halter-like tank, and her oversized melon tits—firm as any I had seen—poked out the top. Her nipples were pronounced and I thought to myself, Damn, fuck damn, I can’t stop looking at those firm breasts. I wanted to stop but golly gee, those things were out of this world for a fourteen-year-old. Her mother’s were small, so she must have inherited these from her father’s side.
I felt stupid and tried my best to look away. Catherine was all over me eventually and got Jules to change. Julie really did look a lot like cat. She had a feline, heart-shaped face with slanted eyes and a delicate frame. She was going to be a hell of a catch for some young horny schoolboy.
Anyway I was reminded to pick up the condoms by my wife, who wrote down the brand name she preferred. My reward would come, she said, later tonight. I rushed off with a piece of toast in my mouth and a hazelnut coffee in my hand. The day was hectic but the night to come might not be any less so.
The day came to an end and I found myself in the drug store digging her note from my pocket. It read, “Get a 12 pack of XL magnum condoms and a bottle of Astroglide lubrication.” I thought, Magnum extra large, why would I need those? I made my way to the back of the store and the pharmacist watched while I browsed the condoms. I found her choice and paid for them at the back counter. The woman looked me over, probably thinking so this guy must have one huge cock. I felt silly, yet kind of proud.
Catherine and I went out for supper with the girls at Applebee’s, which gave us some enjoyable family time together. Jenny chattered on about her jiu-jitsu success and it was great to see her so excited about such a challenging sport. Julie wanted to talk about a boy—of all things. It turned out she
was interested in “dating” a guy at her school. Catherine was ready to fight her tooth and nail but, seeing we were in public at a family restaurant, she kept her temper under control.
“This is a topic we can discuss better at home,” Catherine announced.
As Cat and I prepared for bed later in the evening I was excited to see what my reward would be. She had been thrown off balance by Julie’s comments, which we ended up mulling over in bed for far too long. “What should we do?” We repeated over and over. Should we forbid any dating, get her on birth control, allow only limited interaction with boys? She wouldn’t let it go. My reward would not be forthcoming tonight.
I was again feeling the pain of being locked in sexual submission. The cock restraint was painful in its own right but I needed to get off and it was driving me nuts. Each night Catherine cleaned me and teased me, but I did not orgasm. I was willing to do anything she said for a chance to explode. She made me do household chores I had put off for far too long and, when they were completed, I felt a sense of accomplishment.
Friday night I finally got a mini-reward. It was fun and very much a turn-on. The two of us had skipped out to a local pub for a drink and sandwich and Catherine surprised me by wearing a sexy brown skirt and beige button-down blouse.
Lo and behold, Catherine teasingly showed me that she wore no panties under her little skirt.
I was very aroused. I had no idea how far she’d take this scene, but it was a thrill, to say the least. I thought about her oversized cunt lips and imagined some random guy getting a peek here tonight. I don’t know if anyone had, but just the idea was enough. When we got home I was crazy to be released.
The girls were waiting for us and my reward would again have to wait. In the bedroom she had left the key out so that I could see it. The kitty Oscar was lying there with us, and I rubbed his fur as I chatted with my wife.
“Look Oscar, Mommy’s got the key. I hope Mommy will let me out!”
The humiliation I had been experiencing was surprisingly stimulating. Catherine patted our kitten as she moved the sheet below my loins and unlocked the device. Then she paused. That’s when she posed a dilemma. “Michael, I’d like to have a half-open marriage.” I had no idea what a half-open marriage was, but at that point my penis was so determined to be released that I would agree to anything.
My little penis popped out and I gave a sigh of relief. The kitty jumped off the bed as I all but devoured my sexy wife. She made me slow down so that she could better enjoy it. We sixty-nined, and I ate that oversized mound with newfound zest. Her pouty lips grew so big I was practically smothered by her delicious pie. My dicklet Tiny was stiff and she sucked me fully.
I was feeling macho and strong. “Cat, let me put it in your ass,” I begged. “Let me give it to you like a big man, make you scream.”
Pushing me away, she said, “No way, buddy!”
Oh well, I had tried!
We fucked for all we were worth, but I concentrated on her open hole. She got me off and then I did the same for her with my mouth.
Chapter Six
When I agreed to a half-open marriage, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I had research to do. At work I spent some time online reading what it meant. My research led to the following conclusion: the impact of open marriage on relationships varied, depending on the couple. Some couples reported high levels of marital satisfaction and enjoyed long-lasting open marriages. Other couples dropped out of the open-marriage lifestyle and returned to monogamy.
Couples involved in open marriages or relationships typically came up with a set of ground rules. This allowed them to coordinate their extra-marital activities so that they worked for both of them.
I still needed more information. What I found next was helpful. Some open marriages were one-sided. One partner, who might need more sexual gratification than the other, would be free to seek it out without compromising their emotional relationship with their full-time partner. Jealousy seemed like a huge issue when it came to ground rules. I wanted nothing to do with ground rules and when Cat and I spoke next, that’s what I told her.
As we walked together later that afternoon, I was saying, “Catherine, I don’t think this,” when she cut me off mid-sentence.
“Mike, I just want you to know that with our new choices, I have decided you no longer need to wear the device.”
I thought, Thank God! The piercing still hurt, my balls were burning, and I dying to jerk off so much that I couldn’t concentrate. I decided that my key-holder was giving me a reasonable option.
We made plans to discuss ground rules in the coming days.
I was open to the Mandingo party idea, and that was all we’d agreed to so far. We would attend a party in Boston to see how it went. The decision was made after several nights of bickering over rules and what was allowed in this so-called open marriage. I argued that an open marriage gave me freedom as well. Catherine chuckled and shook her head. We agreed that at the Mandingo party—a big masquerade bash—I too would be welcome to play around with any hot lady I met.
This was not what I really desired. During the week leading up to the trip, I kept resisting. It was a turn-on to see my mature, sexy, fit wife fuck, but I had my pride—I was no wimp, no sissy. I stood my ground. If she could play, so could I.
Not wearing the chastity device felt weird. I was able to get my old masturbating routine back on track, which meant that I felt excited whenever Cat and I had time together, but I didn’t really want to have sex.
We found a close friend to be an overnight sitter, and the weekend was a go. Catherine was spending even more time working out. She was visiting the gym longer and more often, and I felt pressured to do the same. What the hell was I thinking? I did not care about being in great shape and sexy and all that crap, but I did like seeing her happy and looking fine. I did my best to eat well and prepare to “party” Saturday night.
I was fifty and feeling my age. Friday night I stood in front of the mirror, checking myself out. I was still in decent shape and had a full head of dark hair. My skin had wrinkled some but I still looked okay. My belly was on the round side now; I had a bulge there but not in my pants. My butt was fatter than in my youth and, above all else, my penis had shriveled and aged. I had a small cock, and Tiny was his name.
Saturday had arrived. We left the girls with our friend Elle, who was excited to have them stay with her for the day and night. We’d be returning Sunday, late morning. We made sure that Julie would not go near her so-called new boyfriend while we were gone. No visitors whatsoever. I was startled once again by Julie’s tank top, which was hot pink and read “Love Pink.” She had gotten it from a friend whose mom shopped a lot at Victoria’s Secret. The top was small for Julie and her assets were beyond sticking out for such a tiny teenager.
We grabbed our suitcases and made way to Beantown.
The drive was pleasant enough. Catherine seemed to be in a good mood and I was open to the adventure. It was a thrill to have a wife who looked good in her forties. So many girls I knew or had graduated with had grown old too quickly. Most were way overweight and to me rather disgusting. Catherine, on the other hand, looked wonderful. She had her blonde, recently dyed hair in a bun and her little body was rock hard. She was small on top, but firm in ass. I loved the way she looked. She had good skin too. Her face was attractive and her eyes bright.
We stopped a few times at a rest stop to go the bathroom and at one point grabbed a fruit-cup. Catherine told me about the masquerade masks she had purchased on eBay and it appeared we were headed for an interesting evening. As we drove, I asked for more information about the party. “So tell me, hon, what type of gathering are we going to?”
Catherine hesitated and raised an eyebrow. “Mike, I told you already!”
“I know you did,” I said, “but you never got into any real details or explained the masquerade aspect.”
We came to the toll booth and I paid the fare. The big city of Boston loomed
before us and we crawled into town hedged in by heavy traffic.
Meanwhile Catherine gave me the lowdown. “Mandingo parties are for white wives and girlfriends of men who, shall we say, like to see their better-halves happy. A group of attractive black men established these get-togethers. They invite couples to attend, and I guess the rest is up to the participants. Do you get my drift, darlin’?”
We took a turn into a tunnel and the car went dark. When we exited back into the light, I said, “I’m not sure how I fit in here. You said that I was going to have a chance to play and there’s nothing I’m hearing that indicates that. What are the husband’s options here?”
Catherine put on some sunglasses with beg round lenses against the glare and smiled at me. “They said other women would be attending the ball and besides, other guys’ wives may want you at this party, baby. I’m sure you’ll have your chances.”
We arrived at the hotel at around four-thirty, which left us time to relax, sip a cocktail, clean up, and change. We wanted to catch a light snack in the adjoining restaurant as well.
The masks were placed on the table and we unpacked our luggage. Catherine’s choice of attire was sexy, to say the least. Her mask was white, gold, red, and silver, papier-mâché with points and pompoms like a jester’s hat. She slipped into a light rose-colored bra and panty set—the panties had a double string on their edges. I was turned on by watching her change. She then chose a silver, button-down blouse with puffy sleeves. Its silky fabric clung to her bosoms and her waistline. The outfit included a tight black and silver skirt and black, strappy high-heels.
I went with a button-down brown dress shirt and designer jeans. My mask had a long, beaklike nose; its colors varied but they were mostly shades of blue, red, and black. We left these exotic masks in the hotel room and went to eat.
