Margaret Talks Dirty

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Margaret Talks Dirty
Margaret Talks Dirty

Margaret Talks Dirty

“You want me to spank you?”

I stared at her, shocked. This was not at all where I thought the conversation would lead when she had suggested that we have a talk. A talk which turned out to be about the state of our marriage.

“I’m not saying its compulsory. But I want us to talk about the things that will put the spark back into our sex life,” she said. “We didn’t need to talk about sex when we first married, we just fucked like rabbits whenever we had the urge, which was often.”

I grinned, it was true, those first couple of years we had hardly been able to keep our hands off each other. I had watched one Wimbledon women’s final on the television with Margaret lying over my lap on the couch. By the second set she had her shorts and panties off and my left hand was working away at her snatch while I finger fucked her arse with the other. We never made it to the third set.

“But after a couple of kids, with you travelling so much and me with my charity shop work, there isn’t the spark like there used to be, even when we do find the time.”

She held out her arms, I saw the tears well up in her eyes and I held her and hugged her.

“I love you James, you’re the only man for me, but I don’t want us to drift into a sexless, middle aged marriage. I know I’m not the girl you married, that my boobs sag, I’ve a muffin top and my arse wobbles. But inside I’m the same and I get just as randy as I used to, and I want to feel desired. I want to see you with lust in your eyes and a thumping great erection that can fill me up and fuck me giddy. Okay you wear glasses now and you’ve got a bit of a belly and your hairs receding, but there’s nothing wrong with your wedding tackle, it works the same as it always did. I just want to see it work more often, and giving me the sex that you promised in our wedding vows.”

“I must have missed that bit,” I said. “I remember the bit about loving and honouring, and endowing you with all my worldly goods.”

“With my body I thee worship,” said Margaret. “I interpret that to mean that you will take me down off the pedestal where I don’t belong, and fuck the living daylights out me, hard and often.”

She reached up and stroked my cheek. “I’m not trying to embarrass you darling, with a lot of slutty talk. I just want us to get out of the rut and be the young lovers we used to be, that shared everything. So I’m opening myself up to you, it’s not easy after years of growing a respectable, middle class shell and it makes me afraid. That you’ll laugh, or be offended or worse still, say that you are happy with the way things are.”

Her eyes looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to find the words to reply. And I knew that she wasn’t going to let me off the hook lightly. She had thrown down a gauntlet and I had to pick it up.

“It’s not easy for me too,” I began. “I guess I just accepted it as normal that sex would become less important as we got older. I wasn’t happy about it, but it never occurred to me to ask you whether you were happy with it. As you didn’t say anything I just took it for granted.”

“Don’t put all the blame on me, you should have asked me. Just think back to when were young. Did I ever refuse you when you asked to screw me in the car, or on the beach, or to give you a blow job while you watched the football, or to shave my cunt, or to shove a vibrator up my arse while you fucked me so you could feel it vibrating?”

“No,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn at the vulgar phrases that I rarely heard from her lips.

She stroked my cheeks and her palms felt soothing and cooling.

“Am I shocking you, darling? Does it shock you to hear you middle aged, middle class wife talk like a whore?”

I nodded.

“Good, because we need to be shocked out of our rut, and I certainly got your attention when I said I wanted you to beat me. Have I still got it?”

I nodded again.

“Good. So ask me now. Ask me if I’m happy with our sex life and what I would like it to be.”

She took my hand and placed it over her left breast, squeezing my fingers against her flesh.

“Make my heart race lover.”

“Are you happy with our sex life Margaret,” I said, gently squeezing her breast and feeling the nipple stiffen through the bra and blouse. “Is there anything you would like us to do or try that would make it better?”

She removed her hand from mine, placed it over to her right breast and traced its contours before centring on the nipple and gently pinching it. I could see it firm under the material.

“No James, I’m not happy. I want our sex life to be like it was when we were first married. I know we’re not exactly the same people we were back then but I have the same desires and, if I’m not mistaken, I think you do to. We just need to find more ways to fan those desires back into flame.”

I pinched her nipple harder and was rewarded with a little intake of breath. “And you think me spanking you will achieve that.”

“I don’t know, but if taking my clothes off and laying over your lap for you to spank my buttocks crimson, or bending over the table so you can whack some stripes onto my backside with a switch, gets you so hard and excited that you make love to me afterwards, then I’m prepared to give it a try.

“But aren’t you worried it will hurt?” I gave her nipple another pinch and felt my cock stiffen in my pants.

“You see, darling, we’ve already got passed the question of whether I want you to spank me, to discussing what it will be like.”

With her other hand she reached down and stroked my hardening cock through my trousers. “I expect it to hurt. It has to hurt enough to get you in the mood to fuck me, although by the state of you,” she squeezed my cock which was now fully erect, “and the wimpish way you pinched my nipple I don’t think it will hurt much at all.”

She reached for my fly, unzipped it, snapped the waistband of my underpants under my scrotum to free my erection, ran her fingernails gently along the underside of it, retracted my foreskin and gently rolled her thumb over the glans massaging it with the pre-cum that had started to ooze from the tip. I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips.

“I know that God is supposed to have only given you enough blood to work either your brain or your cock, but not both together.” She grinned and ran her tongue around her lips as more pre-cum welled out of my cock. “But let’s see if we can disprove that theory. I’m offering to let you spank or cane me, whatever you want for as long as you want.” She gave my cock a playful squeeze, hard enough to grab my attention. “But there have to be some simple rules. You stop when I say stop and you only ever do it when we are both naked. It’s not going to be some sadistic type of game where you invent rules and punish me for breaking them. I’m not going to be any sort of pain loving masochistic slave. If you want to spank me then all you have to do is ask, stop when I tell you and make love to me afterwards. How does that sound.”

I was finding it quite hard to think with Margaret’s hand gently masturbating me. And what she had said required a deal of thought.

“But I’m not sure if I would want to hurt you,” I said.

“Are you enjoying this?” she said gently pinching my scrotum with her fingernails and then raking them slowly along my shaft.”

I moaned and nodded, then gasped in surprise as she gripped my balls and squeezed gently.

“There are times when I want to hurt you James. Times when you’ve forgotten an anniversary, times when you’ve said something unflattering, times when you’ve ignored me, or talked over me. Not seriously hurt you of course, just to give you a sharp reminder that I’m the love of your life.”

With her other hand she reached for mine and lifted it back up to her breast.

“Undo my blouse, push up my bra and stroke my tits, please.

I did as I was told.

“I know there are times when you get angry with me,” she said. “We can’t please each other all the time, but like most sensible people, if we fight, we fight with words. You’ve never laid a finger on me in anger, and if you ever did I’d leave you. I hate it when we row and things don’t get resolved. I hate going to bed when we’re not speaking to each other and bottling things up. I know we always work it out in the end. But sometimes I wonder whether a spanking, a good cry and long hard fuck would clear the air much quicker for both of us.”

She paused. I had both of her breasts in my hands and was gently massaging them. Enjoying the feel of her rubbery hard nipples under my palm, and the feel of her forefinger rolling my foreskin around my glans.

“Am I making any sense?” she said.

“Perfectly, I am so glad we are having this conversation.”

She looked at me carefully, wondering if I was being flippant. I wasn’t.

“Tell me James,” she said. “If I hadn’t started this conversation do you think you would have ever have asked me to let you spank me?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head emphatically.

“I thought not. Well were going to put that right. When we were young you never worried about asking me anything, even if you thought I might say no. That’s the way I want to get back to. Starting now. So I want you to ask me six things. Sexual things, things you have wanted to do with me but have been afraid to ask, just like spanking me.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“You might say no?”

“I might, but then you’d be no worse off than if you hadn’t asked. But I might say yes, or at least maybe.”

“Can I have some time to think about, Maybe write you a list?”

“No way. No lists, no subtle hints such as pages of books marked or a porn mag left open at a nasty photograph. If you want something I want to hear it from your lips. Preferably in plain, vulgar English. I want the first six now, I’ll take a rain check on the next six.”

“Okay, can we take our clothes off?”

“She laughed, let go of my hand, pulled off her blouse and bra and started to unzip her skirt.

“You can have that as freebie, come on I’m not going to sit her naked on my own.

I didn’t need any encouragement and in seconds we were stripped naked and I was sitting on the sofa and she was lying face up across my lap. I placed my left hand on a breast and reached down with my right. She obligingly opened her legs and I brushed my fingers over her vulva and neatly trimmed bush.

“What’s your first request?”

I gently tugged at her pubic hair. “Can I shave this off?”

“Yes, I’m surprised you haven’t asked long before. You always used to enjoy shaving me.”

“Can I have a supplementary?”

“Depends what it is?”

“Would you have it waxed?”

“Ouch, that would hurt. But probably no worse than a spanking. I’ll do it if you do the waxing.”

This was sounding better all the time.

“Can we have anal sex?”

“Yes, as often as you like. You know I liked it when we were younger and nothing’s changed apart from a couple of haemorrhoids from straining to push two kids out. I can have those fixed if they worry you. But plenty of lube and you should have no trouble.”

She was right, she had enjoyed anal sex, almost right from the beginning of our relationship. We had started with finger play, me inserting one and then two fingers into her anus. And she had returned the favour. Sometimes with me kneeling on the floor, finger fucking my arse with one hand and wanking me off with the other. From there she had worked up to kneeling astride me cowgirl style, lowering her anus until it engaged with the head of my cock and then slowly sitting down and taking it all inside her. After that she had been happy to kneel down and let me fuck her anus doggie fashion. But it had stopped around the time our first child was born and I had never asked again. Until now.

“Can I tie you up?”

I had been gently stroking her vulva, gliding my fingertips down one side of her outer lips, tracing across her perineum, back up the other side and across the top of her clit. I had eased her labia apart and looking down I could see the exposed, glistening pink of her sex. I let my fingers continue their downward glide, circling wide to brush lightly across the brown, puckered ring of her anus and then slipped the middle finger in between the parted lips of her pussy. She felt like warm, pulsating honey as I gently circled my finger tip against the inner wall of her vagina, and she moaned and breathed deeply.

“Are you trying to gain an unfair advantage?”

I removed my finger and licked it clean of her juices.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Yes.”

“To which?”

“No, don’t stop. Yes you can tie me up, tie me down, chain me to the wall and flog me. Whatever turns you on. Same rules though. Stop when I say stop and you have to be naked and fuck me afterwards.

I slowly rubbed my fingers gently up the length of her wet slit, circled around her clit and down again. Pausing to dip into the warm well of her honey, I continued the circuits.

“Can I watch you pee?”

“Yes, if I can watch you pee. Maybe we could do it together. Would you like me to piss over you?”

“Yes, if I can do the same to you.”

“How are we doing so far,” she said. “Not such a dull, boring, middle aged housewife as you thought, am I?”

I tightened the circles, centring on her clit.

“That is so good,” she wriggling. A warm flush had suffused her face and breasts, and she was breathing more heavily. I squeezed one of her nipples and then the other.”

“‘Can I show you off to other men?”

“In principal yes, but we have talk about who, were and how.”

I increased the speed of the circles on her clit and raked my fingernails gently across her nipples.

“Strangers on the internet?”

“Oh yes!” she moaned lifting her hips.

“Really?”

“Only if they couldn’t identify me or see my face. Maybe I could wear a mask. Oh that is so good.”

“Flashing some pictures to my mates down the pub?”

“Only the one’s I could trust not to blab.”

“A complete stranger?”

“In a photo or in the flesh?”

“Both”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t say no to going to a nudist beach, or making love somewhere we might be seen, provided there was no chance of getting arrested.”

I continued to pinch and rake her nipples with my left hand. With my right I gently strummed her clit, gliding the pad of my middle finger up and down over her erect little pleasure bud and dipping into the well of love-juice oozing from the deep, warm, fern clad glade between her gaping, pink labia. She moaned again, breathed a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

“Can I watch you with another woman?”

“If she can do to me what you’re doing to me.”

“I think I’d make a good lesbian. I like making you cum with my fingers and my tongue.”

That was true too. One of the great joys of making love with Margaret was to see her lying on her back with her legs apart and pulled up against her chest to display her parted sex. I was blissfully happy to lick and nibble and nip and suck on her labia, bury my tongue deep in her pussy and alternate between gently flicks and firm rasps across her clit.

“Would you really make love with a woman while I watched?”

“I’ve never been with a woman so not sure how I’d react. But I’m willing to try it.”

“Can I join in?”

“If she was here right now, the way you’ve got me so hot, then I’d just go with it. But we need to talk about precautions and commitment. I’m not having you run off with one of my friends.”

“That’s six,” I said. “Shall I keep going?”

She reached between her legs and took my hand, guiding it onto her clit and pushed my fingers into a circular motion.

“You’re going to finish me off now,” she said. “And while we’re in this mood I’m going to show you exactly how I like it.”

She saw the surprised look on my face.

“What do you think I do on those cold, lonely nights when you’re travelling? You can only read so many books”

She pressed my finger into her clit guiding it in tight circles around the bud, then changing to side to side, then back to circles. Repeating the pattern faster and harder as she rolled her head back, spread her legs wider and began to moan louder.

“Oooohhhhh! Give me your left hand,” she said.

She guided my left hand down to her clit.

“Keep doing what you have been doing with this hand, and put some fingers of your right hand inside me.”

I did as I was told, allowing her to control the fingers of my left hand while I slid two fingers into her pussy and hooked them round feeling for the front wall of her vagina.

“Ooohhh, Yes. Yes,” she moaned, pushing my fingers harder onto her clit and lifting her hips to take my other fingers deeper inside her.

Her moans came louder and faster, her face was flushed red, her eyes were screwed tightly shut and her mouth was wide and contorted with pleasure.

“Ooooohhhh! Ooooohhhh! Ooooohhhh, Yes! Yes! Yes!”‘

I felt the muscles of her vagina rippling and contracting against the fingers inside her. Her hips were bucking, forcing them deeper against her cervix and she was frantically frigging my fingers against her slit. Then her legs clamped over my hands and she was bucking and twisting, screaming and squealing, laughing and crying and calling out my name.

When she had recovered she gazed up at me with her hands behind her head while I stroked her breasts and belly.

“That wasn’t so bad now was it?” she said in a soft, dreamy voice.

“No it was wonderful.”

“I suppose you’ll want to fuck me know. I can feel your erection poking into my backside.”

“That would be nice, yes.”

“A cup of tea is nice. I think making love with your very beautiful and very sexy wife deserves a better adjective than that.”

“It would be fantastic.”

“Better. But before I open my legs and let you shoot all your hot sperm against my cervix, I’m going to ask you a question.”

“Anything.”

“I didn’t say no to the idea of me watching you with another woman. So … would you like to watch me with another man?”

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Blogger, IT engineer, Electrician in one person. Few years addicted to adult stories. That's why started this website/blog. Good person, with own addictions and love. Loves his wife, freedom, traveling and food.

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