- Added : March 13, 2020
- Words : 2553
- Views : 350 views
“Well,” said Dave. “If we invest our pension investment in both government bonds and medium-risk shares, that could see our returns double in the next five years.”
Carole tried to suppress a yawn. “I guess,” she said, unenthusiastically. “Dave, remember when Saturday nights weren’t spent thinking about retirement plan investments? We used to have fun once, didn’t we?”
“Sure, we did,” replied Dave. “And that’s why maximizing our retirement fund is so important. If we can both retire in five years, then we won’t have the daily grind of full-time work to worry about. We can concentrate on us. Do more fun stuff like, like …”
“Butt stuff?” supplied Carole helpfully.
“Nothing.” Carole turned beet-red. She had no idea why she had just said that. She and Dave didn’t say things like that to one another. She was fifty-five, he was pushing sixty. They’d been married for twenty-five years. Their sex life had once between passionate and frequent – if somewhat vanilla and inclined to missionary position. Now it was still vanilla and missionary and but nowhere near as frequent and best described as ‘satisfactory’.
Dave looked up from his laptop. “Did you just say ‘butt stuff’?”
Carole debated outright denying that she had said any such thing. Did she want to? She had potentially opened a can of worms. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the worms needed the chance to breathe. She shook her head inwardly at the terrible metaphor. She really didn’t want anal sex and worms in the same sentence.
Dave continued. “Do you want to do butt stuff?”
Carole met his gaze. “Sure,” she said. “Do you?”
“Well, now I do. You know… we don’t actually have to wait until we’re retired to try anal. We could do it now.”
“Right now?” Carole almost squeaked in her excitement. Was Dave being impulsive? Dave had never been impulsive in his life.
“Not right now, obviously. Not today. We need to get this investment portfolio updated tonight. And besides, it would require some planning.”
The spark of excitement that had dared to ignite inside Carole was quickly extinguished. Oh, right. Planning. That sounded more like Dave. He’d probably need a spreadsheet. Actually, he wouldn’t. Carole bet that this conversation would never be mentioned again.
A week went by and, as Carole predicted, the butt stuff conversation hadn’t been mentioned again. She rose early on Saturday morning and started the weekend chores by sorting out the laundry. The house was empty these days apart from her and Dave. The kids had all grown up. The youngest still lived at home during the holidays but during term time he was five hundred miles away at university.
Dave poked his head around the utility room door. “Do you want a cup of coffee, love?”
“Yes please. Are you going to the golf course this morning?”
“No. I’m giving it a miss this morning. I figured we’d want some time together this weekend. We’ve got things to do.”
“Oh yes. I have taken on board last week’s suggestion. Done some research. Had something delivered.”
He turned his back and headed back to the kitchen. Carole blinked at his retreating figure. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Why on earth would he need something ‘delivered’ for butt stuff? Surely all that was required was his penis and her ass? They already had both of those things.
Well, she supposed, musing on the subject further – and how could she not? – they’d need lube as well. That couldn’t be it though; they always had plenty of that. It was a necessary part of foreplay since she’d hit the menopause.
Laundry sorted, she went through to the kitchen where Dave was sitting at the kitchen table. In front of him sat two cups of coffee and a small brown package that had been delivered earlier in the week.
Carole had taken delivery of the package. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Dave was always having packages delivered – usually stuff to do with golf or gardening.
Now the package took on an almost ominous quality.
“Open it,” said Dave.
Carole took a chair at the table and picked up the package. It had already been opened and then closed again. Of course it had. Dave was a meticulous man. He’d have checked that the order was correct and complete as soon as he’d got it. He wouldn’t leave anything to chance.
She opened the cardboard flaps and took out an object sheathed in bubble wrap. She could kind of see already what is was, but she unwrapped it to confirm.
“It’s a butt plug.”
Dave smiled. “Yes it is. Don’t worry, I ordered the small size. I’ve done a lot of reading on the subject this week. I think it would be a good idea for you to wear this for a few hours before the main event.”
“The main event?” Carole cocked an eyebrow at him. She wanted him to say the actual words. There was a butt plug on the table. This was no time to be coy.
Dave did not disappoint. “The main event being me fucking you in your ass.”
Dave stood up. “Right, time to get on with it then. No time like the present.”
The grin disappeared from Carole’s face. “What, here? Now?” Was she ready? She didn’t feel ready.
“Yes, now. Bend over the table.”
“But I was going to clean the bathrooms! And I haven’t drunk my coffee!” The excuses sounded pathetic even to her own ears. She knew she was stalling. And, evidently, so did Dave.
“You can do both of those things afterwards. Now do as you’re told. Bend over.”
Still Carole didn’t move. She looked nervously from the butt plug to Dave.
“Carole,” said Dave. “I am not going to repeat myself again. You will do as you’re told.” His voice was different to how it usually sounded. More dominant. It was a voice which brooked no argument. It made Carole shudder in, what she decided was, a good way.
Carole stood and bent over the table. She maneuvered herself awkwardly, self-consciously into position so that her feet were on the floor, her upper body flat against the top of the table and her ass raised in the air.
Her breath quickened and then quickened some more when Dave grabbed the bottom of her skirt and lifted it above her waist. He pulled her tights and panties down to her knees. Carole felt a slight breeze on her bare ass cheeks. She didn’t know what to do with herself; it was strange feeling so exposed. It was her own kitchen and her own husband and yet she still felt out of her comfort zone. She wriggled in her awkwardness.
“Stay still,” Dave commanded and gave her a sharp slap on the bottom. Carole yelped as much from surprise as anything. It had not really hurt but she determined not to move again. She felt Dave’s fingers slip between her cheeks and press against her [anus]. His fingers were cold and slippery and evidently liberally coated in lubricant.
Well, this is definitely happening, though Carole as she felt the hard silicone of the butt plug touch her hole.
“Hold your butt cheeks apart for me,” commanded Dave.
Carole immediately did as she was told. Dominant Dave was hard to resist, and she really didn’t want to resist him anyway. She didn’t even feel self-conscious any more.
Dave slowly pushed the butt plug inside her. It felt… odd. Not painful but very stretching. The lube certainly helped though. Dave gave one last push and then stood back. “There you go. It’s all the way in now.”
Carole let go of her ass cheeks and felt for the plug. Sure enough, the base of the plug was flush against her ass. She was almost disappointed. Maybe Dave shouldn’t have bought the small size after all. She felt like she could have taken more.
“What now?” she asked, looking back at Dave over her shoulder.
“Now you get on with whatever plans you had for this morning.” He took hold of her hands and pulled her up into a standing position. “Two hours should be plenty. We’ll meet up at eleven and then I’ll take the plug out and fuck you good and proper there.”
She wrapped her arms around him and brought her lips towards his. He responded immediately and passionately as they locked lips. Carole’s panties and tights were still bunched around her knees and she didn’t care. Right now, all she wanted to do was make out as though they were a pair of teenagers.
After a long while, Dave pulled away. He patted her bottom. “Right off you go,” he said. “Don’t forget to drink your coffee first.”
It was a very long two hours. Feeling the stretch of the butt plug as cleaned the house was certainly having an effect on Carole. She squatted down on her haunches to empty the bathroom bin and felt the plug push against the walls of her sphincter. Her eyes widened. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, that was for sure. She ensured she assumed a squatting position a good few more times that morning.
At ten to eleven, Dave came in from the garden where he’d spent the morning. He was damp and muddy from digging out flower borders.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “I’ll see you upstairs in five minutes.”
Carole took a deep breath and hung up the tea towel she had been using. She was sorely tempted to have a glass of wine in order to giver herself some Dutch courage. She decided against it for two reasons. Firstly, because it was only eleven o’clock in the morning and she liked to think she had some standards. Secondly – and far more importantly – she didn’t actually want to take the edge off any of this. She was going to be one hundred per cent present. She wanted this.
She went upstairs to their bedroom and straight into the ensuite shower room. She watched Dave showering behind the glass shower screen.
He had changed a lot since she had first seen him naked thirty years ago. They both had. He was balder, fatter and his skin sagged more than it used to. While the hair on his head receded, the hair on the rest of his body seemed determined to make up the shortfall. Not that Carole was thinking about any of those things. She was staring at her naked husband with a butt plug nestling in her ass, damp between her legs, marveling at how sexy he was. He was sexy as fuck and he was hers.
Dave turned slightly and saw that Carole was in the room. He opened the shower screen door. “In you come,” he said.
Unlike earlier, Carole did not need asking twice. She stripped off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor and joined Dave under the stream of water.
“Turn around and face the wall,” he said. “Palms flat, legs apart.”
She did so, wincing slightly as Dave pulled the butt plug out of her. He did it slowly and gently, but it still felt strange. Afterwards, she felt strangely bereft. Her body missed the feeling of having her ass filled.
Dave washed the plug under the shower stream and then, taking a cloth, he washed her all over, paying particular attention to her pussy and then her arsehole. She was still facing the wall. When he finished washing her, Dave put his arms around her with his hands on her breasts and placed long lingering kisses on her neck.
Carole groaned with desire. The kisses ignited a fire in every part of her. She was fizzing with expectation.
Dave let go of her breasts and turned off the shower. He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. They did not stop to dry themselves. Instead, still wet from the shower, they flopped onto the bed, mouths meeting in a passionate kiss, their hands all over one another.
Carole pressed herself against him and ground her pussy against his leg. The desire she felt was almost overwhelming. Her fingers travelled to his cock. He was rock hard and clearly ready for her.
“On your hands and knees,” said Dave in a voice that was rougher than usual, so low in register that it was almost a growl. Carole got into position on the duvet was that still slightly damp from their freshly showered bodies. She felt the cold, sticky gloop of lube being worked into and around her anus. Dave stuck his thumb inside her as he did it and god, thought, Carole, it felt good.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” said Dave.
“I think I will too,” replied Carole.
“Mm,” he said, noncommittally, as though her personal pleasure was a matter of supreme indifference to him.
Carole knew that this wasn’t the case. Her husband was as thorough and conscientious in his lovemaking as he was about everything else in his life. She knew that the fact that she had found sex a bit boring these last few years was her own fault. She hadn’t told him what she wanted.
He entered her slowly. She could fill the tip of his penis push against her hole. Then, smoothly, millimetre by millimetre, it was inside her.
“Oh, god, yes,” Carole moaned.
His cock fit so snugly in her asshole that she kept thinking there was no way to fit any more in. He kept proving her wrong; pushing just a tiny bit more until his whole length was buried inside her.
It felt wonderful. A million tiny nerve endings sparked like fireworks. Carole briefly thought that it couldn’t get any better than this and then Dave started moving inside her and she realised that it could.
He thrust into her, slowly at first and then picking up speed in response to her encouraging mewls. “Oh god, oh god…” was all that she could manage and soon she was incapable of saying even that as she tumbled into an orgasm. She had barely finished the first orgasm, when the second one came crashing through. And after that there was no possible way to keep count. She experienced wave after wave of pleasure with no discernible beginning or end.
Carole was no longer kneeling, her legs had given way beneath her and she lay face down on the bed, her legs apart, her gasping cries muffled by the bed clothes. Dave hadn’t missed a stroke as she collapsed, pounding into her. By the time he reached his climax, Carole was reduced to a quivering mass of pleasure. She was unaware of anything but an overwhelming, animalistic feeling of ecstasy.
Dave’s pounding suddenly halted and with a grunt, he ejaculated inside her.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. Dave collapsed on top of her and Carole enjoyed the feeling of his heavy weight bearing down on her back. She was sweaty as hell and could feel the stickiness of Dave’s cum mixed with the generous amounts of lube trickling down her thighs. She had never felt happier.
Dave rolled off her and pulled her towards him for a cuddle. “You alright there, love?”
“More than alright,” said Carole contentedly.
“This was a very good idea of yours, I must say. You should make suggestions like this more often.”
“I intend to. I have plenty of ideas,” said Carole with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I hope you’ve created a spreadsheet for all the new stuff we’re going to try. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need one.”