("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: Mw03.txt text #2603 Author: Robert Handle Story title: "Help For Those Who Want To Fuck My Wife." PART 3 of 6 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This series of story's contains all sorts of sexual acts between wife husband, and other men, woman and children. If any or all of these topics offend you, or you are under the legal age of 18, please delete this file now! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~from Kristen's collection ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part III In the last two stories, I told you some of the things that turns my wife on, and how I use those things to fuck her whenever and wherever I wish. A lot of men envy me, saying that their wives won't fulfill any fantasies for them, yet Kristi seems intent on seeing me totally happy. Well, that's true, but there's another side to this arrangement as well, and this episode of the Fuck Her series is dedicated to that aspect. Sometimes it's not always me who gets to call the shots. As I mentioned in the previous episode, Kristi and I are inclined to make wagers between ourselves, wagers which do not involve money. We bet slave hours, that is to say, we will bet three slave hours on a football game, or a hockey event, and the loser will pay the bet off by being a total slave for however many hours she (or he) has lost. This slavery is redeemable in any form of sexual activity the winner chooses, and often it involves humiliation and degradation, such as the time I ordered Kristi to show her pussy to a woman in an elevator, or to ask a carriage driver in New York if she could touch his horse's cock. But sometimes it works the other way. Sometimes it's me who has to pay off the debt. About four weeks ago, such a situation came to pass. I'd wagered (badly) on the outcome of a football game, and owed Kristi eight slave hours. The game was over by six that evening, and she said she wanted to collect that night. A deals a deal...so I agreed. It started off simple enough. She told me to shower and get dressed to go out. She told me what to wear, which shirt, which pair of slacks. (I should have been suspicious when she specified my navy colored briefs and tan dockers.) I was ready to go in about a half hour. She hadn't wasted the time either, because when I called for her to come down stairs, I was pleasantly surprised by how she was dressed as well. Kristi had changed into a silk dress I'd bought her in Europe. It was French cut, very stylish, but at least one size to small. Her regular size is a 7-8. this was a 5-6. But it fit her very well. In fact, so well did it cover her body, that every aspect of her very hot figure was accented, including her 38DD breasts. She was wearing nothing under the dress, except a pair of thigh high stockings. I wasn't sure, but it almost seemed like I could make out the shape of her pussy from the way she stood on the stairwell. It was obvious that I was impressed with what I was looking at. "You like?", she asked turning half way around. "I like a lot!" I answered. "I decided not to wear a bra tonight. It's so nice out, and this dress is so tight! Can you tell I'm braless?" "No, not really," I lied. "Oh. Well..." with that she moved her hands to cover her breasts and squeezed her two nipples through the fabric. They immediately responded by growing another half inch in length. "How about now?" It was incredible. She'd made her nipples poke out to such an obvious degree that a dead blind man would have taken notice of them. "Yes. Now I can tell you're braless." "Are you wearing the navy underwear I told you to wear?" "Yeah. Ya wanna see 'em?" She came down the stairs without a word, and I swear she seemed to float over to me. Without speaking, she cupped her palm and rubbed it across my crotch area. My hard cock instantly sprang to attention. For the mo- ment, I thought perhaps I was about to get one of her world famous blow jobs. But that wasn't the case. Instead she merely continued to jerk my dick through the fabric of my pants. I could feel myself getting very excited. As suddenly as she started, she stopped. "It wouldn't do for you to come just yet, would it, sweetie? I have a special surprise for you tonight." Somehow the idea that she'd been planning something didn't seem to make me feel any better. The last time we'd had an evening of debt paying it had been her who paid, and I was the collector. I must admit I made her do some pretty outrageous things that night, and now it was pay back time. I could be in a world of hurt. As we walked to the car, Kristi tapped me on the shoulder. "I'll drive." It was her night, what could I say. "Okay," was my only answer. Once we were backing out the drive, she looked at her watch. "Seven O'clock. You're mine till three in the morn- ing. Try to remember that." "I'll remember." "I'll remember, Ma'am!" I was starting to get the drift of how this evening would be. "I'll remember, Ma'am," I repeated softly. ii Kristi handled her German convertible like she handles everything else, with confidence and skill. As we tooled down the interstate that connects our city with the place we were going, I marveled at the absolute beauty and grace my wife possesses. She's a natural red-head, both above and below the waist. Her figure is every bit as good now as it was when we met ten years ago, and if it's possible, she looks even younger than her thirty-six years would expect. She's well educated, very witty, and very exciting. I cannot imagine a more vibrant, sexier wrench than my wife. I hadn't said a word since the initial exchange on the driveway. I knew the mood she was trying to main- tain, and didn't want to do anything to put a damper on it. I waited for her to resume the conversation. Finally, she did. "Is your cock hard?" "Right now, Ma'am?" "Of course, right now." "No, Ma'am." She didn't reply. Instead she pulled the car out of the right hand lane into the fast lane and sped up. Within seconds she was approaching a semi-truck. As we pulled along side it, Kristi slipped her dress higher up her legs, exposing the skin above her thigh highs. I watched as she unbuttoned the top of her dress, loosening three buttons, and exposing her breasts almost to the nipples, which by now were quite obviously erect. So was my cock. Watching my wife prepare to expose herself to a truck driver was making me very hard indeed. As she pulled along side his window, she spoke to me. "Take out your cock." "Now?" "Of course, now! Do it!" Within seconds, my zipper was down, and I was hold- ing in my hand the object of our mutual joy. She pushed my hands away from it, replacing it with her own right hand, stroking it, making it as hard as steel! As she came level with the trucker, he looked out his window into the convertible next to him and was rewarded with the view of my lovely red-headed wife's nearly naked body, and her hand pumping my nine inch cock with all the casualness of a mother petting her baby's head. "He's watching me jack you off, you know." "Yes. I know." Kristi dug her nails into the stiff flesh of my cock. Dug them in HARD! "Did you forget who you're talking to?" Shit! She really hurt me! I responded quickly. "I'm sorry! Yes, Ma'am. I know, Ma'am!" She released her grip. "That's better! I won't have you forgetting to address me properly. You will be punished if you forget again!" Fuck! What was that if it wasn't punishment? I made a mental note not to forget to call her "Ma'am" again. She sped ahead of the trucker, leaving me with my wilting cock outside my pants. I didn't dare replace it inside my trousers. She hadn't told me to, and she was in no mood to be fucked with. I sat there, my cock exposed to the entire world, and waited for her next order. As we pulled off the super slab, she pulled her dress back over her legs, almost to the knees, and re- buttoned two of the three buttons she had undone for the trucker. We came to a stop at the intersection. She still hadn't told me I could hide my cock. Then, without warning, she zipped her little two seater inside a parking lot of where we were obviously going to have dinner. "Put it back in your pants," was all she said as she parked the car and got out without waiting for me to open her door. She was half-way across the parking lot before I could catch up with her. She'd managed to give herself the upper hand merely by making me work to catch up with her. What a woman! The restaurant is called "Antonio's," and it specializes in Italian cuisine. We'd been there twice before, but it had been at least a year since the last visit. The place hadn't changed a bit. I found out later that Kristi had been there a few weeks before, and that explained a lot, but I'll get to that in a moment. We were seated in a nice quiet room, with only one other table being occupied. Our waitress was a tall, brunette looking woman, probably Italian, and extremely well endowed. Of course, with Kristi for a wife, I've long since stopped looking for the perfect set of tits. She has them, and that ended my quest. The waitress set the menus down in front of us. Kristi spoke immediately. "He doesn't need a menu. I'll order for him." If the woman was surprised, she certainly didn't show it. Instead, she merely picked up the folder from in front of me, and smiled at my wife. "Yes, ma'am. Would you care for a drink before ordering?" "I'll have a dirty vodka martini...and bring him a.. oh, I don't know...something easy...something a sissy would drink...bring him a pink lady." "Of course, ma'am." Before the waitress could turn to leave, however, Kristi wanted to make sure I was humiliated sufficiently. Without looking at me, she merely said, "Is that alright with you? I mean...you do want a sis- sy drink, don't you?" I didn't want to answer, but I knew better than to deprive her of this moment of victory. "Yes, Ma'am. That's what I want." "Why?" "Because that's what you want me to have, Ma'am." "That's a good little boy." I couldn't actually see the waitresses face, but I was sure she was laughing at me as she walked away. Kristi told me to sit where I was, that she was going to the bathroom, and that I should not talk to anyone till she came back. She picked up her purse and withdrew a fifty dollar bill from inside her wallet, put her purse back on the seat next to her, and got up. I couldn't imagine what she was going to do. I watched as she walked out of the room, and turned left, the same direction the waitress had turned when she left to get our drinks. A few minutes passed, and finally the girl returned with our libations. Setting Kristi's drink in front of the seat she'd occupied before leaving, she than placed my drink, complete with a parasol and very elaborate garnishments, in front of me. "Need anything else?" "No. Thank you." As she left the table, Kristi was standing in the doorway. "I told you not to talk to anyone." "I was only thanking her for bringing the drinks." "Then you did talk to her?" "Well...yes." "That's it! You disobeyed me...and now you have forgotten the proper way to address me! You are not living up the spirit of our arrangement!" "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'll make it up to you." "I'm sure you will...and you'll start right now." "Of course I will, Ma'am." "I want you to go into the bathroom and jerk off, right now." I didn't wait for her to even finish her sentence. I started to get up and obey. After all...it wasn't something that was all that bad anyway. Besides, after the fondling at home, plus the little episode with the truck driver, not to mention the humiliation in front of the waitress...I was pretty hot already! "Wait! I'm not done." I settled back down in my chair. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This had seemed too easy. "I want you to take off your underwear when you go in there, fold them into a rectangle, and I want you to come on top of them. I want three equal puddles of cum in a triangular shape, and do not allow your cum to soak into the fabric. Bring the soiled briefs back to me immediately. Do you understand?" Well, I certainly comprehended, but I didn't under- stand. She was so precise, so exact in her instruc- tions. I replied, "Yes, Ma'am. I understand." "I swear to you Phillip, if you fuck this up, I'll make you eat your entire meal standing up with your dick hanging outside your pants!" I believed her. "Yes, ma'am." Looking at her watch, she added, "You have four minutes. Go!" I was in the restroom, my pants off, my underwear in my hand, and pumping my cock in less than thirty seconds. Ordinarily, it would take me much longer than the allotted time to get my rocks off. But as I indicated, Kristi had worked me up to a fine pitch. I realize now that the entire evening was orchestrated for this one act, but at the time I only was concen- trating on making my cock shoot three nice puddles of cum for my wife to inspect. I searched my mind for the right inspiration to accompany this act...something from our past that would make me shoot harder, and in greater quantity. With a wife like Kristi, one doesn't have to travel back far in one's memory to call forth an erotic episode. Quite the contrary, I found myself rejecting scenario after scenario in my quest for the perfect stroke story. I thought about the places she's sucked my cock, the public places, the buses, the trains, the airplanes... about all the hotel lobbies, all the elevators, all the sporting events. I remembered the times I'd watched a man poke his dick into my wife's mouth, her pussy, even her ass hole, while I watched, stroking my own cock, as I was doing even then, remembering...remembering. My mind settled on the time I was giving a speech in Seattle. I was on the podium, addressing two hundred of the city's finest business men, and Kristi was in the audience, sitting next to one of the city officials. She was dressed in a short skirt, and seemed to take an inordinate interest in the man talk- ing to her. I continued speaking as I watched my wife's hand slide along his inner thigh, and didn't miss a beat as her hand cupped over his obviously hard- ening cock. Moment's later, she whispered something in his ear and got up and walked out of the room. Within seconds, he followed her. I continued giving my speech, hoping I was making sense, knowing in my heart that at that very moment, someone, a man whose name I didn't know, and for all I knew, Kristi didn't know it either, that nameless man had without doubt already worked his cock into my wife's pussy, or her mouth! I continued speaking...unbearably long minutes pass- ed, when suddenly she reappeared at the back of the room. She walked back in, made her way to her seat on the front row, and sat back down. The other man wasn't back yet. I realized how silly I'd been to suspect she'd done anything. Just as I had about convinced myself that I had been the victim of an overactive imagination, my pretty wife smiled at me, and opened her mouth slightly. There was no mistaking what I was looking at. He mouth was full of cum! She'd sucked the man's cock until he shot in her mouth, and then she'd saved the cum between her lips till she could show me. That was the first and only time I've ever had an orgasm in front of two hundred men while speaking on the benefits of modern technology. I stopped speaking for a moment, and had the good grace to cough, as if I'd stopped because I swallowed something wrong. Fortunately, I was standing behind a podium, and fortunately, I'd been wearing a black suit. But to this day, that was one of my hottest memories concern- ing Kristi. By the way...she didn't swallow his cum until after my speech was over...and she could kiss me nicely. A proper kiss...in front of that room full of men...and pass some of the stranger's cum into my mouth! I thought about that afternoon as my hand jacked my cock furiously. I felt the orgasm starting to build, and suddenly, as if I were in my own home, my own room, I released a huge load of my jism...as instructed, in three puddles across the folded fabric of my underwear. Oddly enough, I'd not fully considered the logistics of what Kristi had ordered until that moment. My instruc- tions were not to allow the fabric to soak in the liquid, which meant that I'd have to keep the briefs unfolded any further than they already were. As it stood then, I was holding a cloth rectangle, about three inches by six inches, with three puddles of liquid on it, and the nature of the liquid was fairly obvious...at least to me. I squeezed the last of my come out of my now deflat- ing cock, and zipped up my pants. There was no graceful way to do what she'd asked. Resigning myself to the worst, I opened the stall door and exited the bathroom, walked down the hall, passed several people milling about, and back into the dining room. To my relief, the other people that were there didn't seem to pay any attention to me. I quickly sat back down across from my wife who was studying her watch. "Too bad. Took you six minutes." "Look, I hurried. I was done in the allotted time, but I couldn't figure how to get them out of the bath- room and back down here without being spotted." "Did I tell you to worry about being spotted?" "Well...no...but..." "Give them to me." I started to pass them to her under the table, but her hands remained on top of the table cloth. I knew what she wanted me to do. Looking around quickly at the room, I was pretty sure I could pass them to her without being noticed. I made my move. What happened next was a blur of activity, all orchestrated by my loving wife. As I reached over the table to hand her my cum soaked underbriefs, and she reached up to take them, her left hand knocked over her drink, she jumped back, (my underwear in her hand) and shrieked! The waitress had just re-entered the room, the people at the next table looked over. Our waitress reached for a napkin to clean up the mess, but my wife reached over to her first and said, "Here, use this," handing the women my cum soaked underwear. The waitress took the garment, allowed it to unfold in full view of the people at the next table, and then said in a very loud voice, allowing everyone in the room to hear, "Oh, look at this. Someone's come in these. What a mess!" My wife answered, also much louder than necessary, "Yes, they're his. He couldn't control himself, so he jacked off in the restroom, like a teen age boy! Look at how much he came!" I was mortified. The waitress just stood there, my shorts in her hand, unfurled, with the cum I'd shot on them obvious to anyone with half an eye. Then Kristi added the final blow. Still in a stage whisper, she announced, "I'll bet his cock is still hard! Isn't it, dear?" Not only was it hard, but it was leaking cum at an incredible rate. And now I understood why she'd order- ed me to wear light pants. "Stand up, Phillip. Let's see." I had no choice. I stood, my cock making a pole of obvious proportions in the front of my dockers, and in a circumference twice the size of two silver dollars, a growing wet spot appeared on the front of my pants. The waitress stared at me, (more specifically, at the wet spot on my trousers, while my wife gathered her purse and started out the door. She stopped at the entrance to the room, and turned to me, "Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there and continue to cum?" I briskly followed her out the door and to our car. She unlocked her side and got in. While I stood in the parking lot, my pants soaked with my cum, she sat in the car and fixed her lipstick, as if nothing had hap- pened. I waited for her to finish, knowing that this was part of my humiliation, when she reached over and unlocked my side. As soon as I was inside the car, she turned to me and said, "Unzip. I want to taste you." I didn't need to be told twice. I started to un- buckle my pants, but her hand stopped me. "Just the zipper." I complied, and within seconds, her face was cover- ing my cock as it peeked out the zipper hole. She sucked me like a woman gone mad, and within seconds, my cock was in the throes of yet another orgasm. I swear, I must have pumped a pint of come down her throat, and she swallowed every drop! It doesn't get any better than this, I remember thinking. When I was done, she pulled her mouth off of my now totally deflated cock. Her lipstick was a mess...and I absent mindedly thought what a shame it was that she'd just put fresh lipstick on. And the very moment I thought that, my mind raced to the undeniable fact that most of that lipstick was now on the outside of my tan dockers. Even that didn't bother me till my precious little wife asked me for my underwear. "I didn't stop to pick it up." "Oh." With that she started the car, put it into drive and drove to the front door of the restaurant. I knew what was coming next. As sweetly as she might have asked me to pass her the sugar bowl, Kristi looked at me, and then at my pants, now a combination of drying come and smeared lipstick and smiled so nicely...and then said what I knew she'd say...and my cock knew it too, it was already starting to get hard..."I'll wait. You run in and get 'em for me." "But, Kristi..." "Oh, it'll be okay." She patted my leg like a mother telling her child that school wasn't all that bad. "Besides, Wanda is expecting you." "Wanda?" "Our waitress. Don't worry about a thing. She's got them for you, all you have to do is go get them." "And..." I knew there had to be more. "And nothing, sweetie. Just walk in there, turn left, walk into the woman's room and there they'll be. Hanging on the inside stall door." "And Wanda?" "Oh, I think you'll find her in there too. Now hurry along." The underwear was indeed where Kristi said it would be, but what she hadn't told me was that Wanda would be using them to take care of a little personal business of her own. I still have those shorts, and sometime in the future, along with the dockers, they are going to have to be washed! iii The point of this whole story is to show you how complex my wife's mind is. She'd arranged this entire scenario, right down to hiring the waitress to follow the script, and the incredible part is she could anticipate my every move. She knew how I would react, she knew how my cock would react. If and when you ever get the opportunity to fuck my wife, remember this facet of her personality. While she makes a willing submissive, she can be one hell of a bitch when it's her turn! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WARNING: This story contains unsafe sex. In this day and age it is just plain stupid to perform unsafe sexual acts. This story is for entertainment, not to be imita- ted. Be smart, take care of your body, you are only is- sued on per lifetime! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!