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My wife and I have been married for 11 years, and until a few months ago, she never once let me see her masturbate.

She didn’t try to deny that she did it, but she’d spent a decade resolutely refusing to let me catch even a glimpse of her pleasuring herself. And the fact that she wouldn’t let me just made me obsessed with the idea. Sometimes when I touched myself, all I would think about were the things she could possibly be doing when doing the same thing as me.

The questions left unanswered drove me wild: Did she just play with her clit or did she finger her sexy pussy, too, covering her fingers in her slick arousal? Did she use toys? Did she ever stick anything in her ass? Did she moan aloud as she came or stay silent? I wanted to know desperately, but I’d been married long enough to know better than to push her.

On the evening it all changed, it seemed like my day was going horribly wrong. I’d been late, work had been terrible, and I dropped my phone in the toilet. I always let my wife know I was on my way home, but that day I couldn’t, so I just started driving, knowing she would give me a hard time for breaking yet another phone.

I pulled into the garage and walked through the door into the kitchen to the sight I’d been deprived of for so long: my wife, leaning against the counter, legs spread as she fingered herself furiously. She looked up at me, shocked, but as I set down my bag and approached, it seemed like she was far enough gone that she just gave in to the situation.

I walked toward her slowly, almost afraid to move too quickly and break the spell it felt like we were both under. It gave me a moment to take in the scene.

I glanced around the kitchen and realized she’d actually been in the middle of baking something when she must have gotten so horny she had to stop right there and get herself off. What could possibly have turned her on that much, and that quickly?

I quickly looked her over. Her pink panties were around her knees, her flowery sundress bunched up around her hips. Her red hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she had flour smeared across her forehead. Her pale thighs were spread open and I could see her neatly trimmed pussy.

Every instinct in me screamed to go fuck her, but this was my one chance to see her in full masturbatory action. I wondered if I simply pulled up a chair she’d let me watch. I was too scared to even move a stool in case it gave her time to change her mind, so I just sat down on the kitchen floor and leaned back against the cabinets, which gave me the hottest view of her pussy.

She knew what I wanted. I had been begging to see this for years. I thought she might walk away, but instead she propped one heel up on the counter, exposing her pussy even more. I was close enough to see how wet she was.

My wife started to touch her clit with her right hand, rubbing back and forth with her index and middle fingers. I thought I was going to come in my pants.

She kept on doing this, closing her eyes as though she was trying to pretend I wasn’t there — which was fine with me since it let me sneak my zipper down and pull my dick out without distracting her.

I’d barely made it three strokes when she picked up the rolling pin next to her and began to slide the tapered handle into her cunt. Even though she was clearly into it, I questioned whether she would have done something like this on her own. Maybe she didn’t mind my being there after all.

Watching my beautiful wife fuck herself with a kitchen implement was too much. I came almost immediately, trying my best not to make any noise, but she looked like she was too engrossed in her own pleasure to care what I was doing.

I crawled a little closer, kneeling to get a better view of her sliding the handle in and out, pressing it deeper and harder into herself as her fingers on her clit took up a stuttering rhythm.

When she finally came, she held the handle deep inside her and stopped stroking her clit, but left her fingers against it. She had been fairly quiet, but now she couldn’t seem to help letting out a single guttural moan that I will be fantasizing about until the day I die.

I pulled her off the counter and laid her down on the floor, dropping my pants and rolling her under me. I was hard again, so I thrust into her with one deep stroke, marveling at how wet she was. We fucked right there until we both came again, making an even bigger mess.

My terrible day turned out to be pretty great, and when my wife started to pretend to be mad at me for surprising her, I took her upstairs and licked her pussy until she forgave me.

She didn’t immediately become okay with letting me watch her masturbate after that, but the door was cracked open, and she let me experiment with it until she was finally comfortable.

And boy, is she comfortable now!

Watching my wife fuck herself with a kitchen implement was too much. I came almost immediately, trying not to make any noise.

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Domestic Bliss

  • 1

Storyline

My wife and I have been married for 11 years, and until a few months ago, she never once let me see her masturbate.

She didn’t try to deny that she did it, but she’d spent a decade resolutely refusing to let me catch even a glimpse of her pleasuring herself. And the fact that she wouldn’t let me just made me obsessed with the idea. Sometimes when I touched myself, all I would think about were the things she could possibly be doing when doing the same thing as me.

The questions left unanswered drove me wild: Did she just play with her clit or did she finger her sexy pussy, too, covering her fingers in her slick arousal? Did she use toys? Did she ever stick anything in her ass? Did she moan aloud as she came or stay silent? I wanted to know desperately, but I’d been married long enough to know better than to push her.

On the evening it all changed, it seemed like my day was going horribly wrong. I’d been late, work had been terrible, and I dropped my phone in the toilet. I always let my wife know I was on my way home, but that day I couldn’t, so I just started driving, knowing she would give me a hard time for breaking yet another phone.

I pulled into the garage and walked through the door into the kitchen to the sight I’d been deprived of for so long: my wife, leaning against the counter, legs spread as she fingered herself furiously. She looked up at me, shocked, but as I set down my bag and approached, it seemed like she was far enough gone that she just gave in to the situation.

I walked toward her slowly, almost afraid to move too quickly and break the spell it felt like we were both under. It gave me a moment to take in the scene.

I glanced around the kitchen and realized she’d actually been in the middle of baking something when she must have gotten so horny she had to stop right there and get herself off. What could possibly have turned her on that much, and that quickly?

I quickly looked her over. Her pink panties were around her knees, her flowery sundress bunched up around her hips. Her red hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she had flour smeared across her forehead. Her pale thighs were spread open and I could see her neatly trimmed pussy.

Every instinct in me screamed to go fuck her, but this was my one chance to see her in full masturbatory action. I wondered if I simply pulled up a chair she’d let me watch. I was too scared to even move a stool in case it gave her time to change her mind, so I just sat down on the kitchen floor and leaned back against the cabinets, which gave me the hottest view of her pussy.

She knew what I wanted. I had been begging to see this for years. I thought she might walk away, but instead she propped one heel up on the counter, exposing her pussy even more. I was close enough to see how wet she was.

My wife started to touch her clit with her right hand, rubbing back and forth with her index and middle fingers. I thought I was going to come in my pants.

She kept on doing this, closing her eyes as though she was trying to pretend I wasn’t there — which was fine with me since it let me sneak my zipper down and pull my dick out without distracting her.

I’d barely made it three strokes when she picked up the rolling pin next to her and began to slide the tapered handle into her cunt. Even though she was clearly into it, I questioned whether she would have done something like this on her own. Maybe she didn’t mind my being there after all.

Watching my beautiful wife fuck herself with a kitchen implement was too much. I came almost immediately, trying my best not to make any noise, but she looked like she was too engrossed in her own pleasure to care what I was doing.

I crawled a little closer, kneeling to get a better view of her sliding the handle in and out, pressing it deeper and harder into herself as her fingers on her clit took up a stuttering rhythm.

When she finally came, she held the handle deep inside her and stopped stroking her clit, but left her fingers against it. She had been fairly quiet, but now she couldn’t seem to help letting out a single guttural moan that I will be fantasizing about until the day I die.

I pulled her off the counter and laid her down on the floor, dropping my pants and rolling her under me. I was hard again, so I thrust into her with one deep stroke, marveling at how wet she was. We fucked right there until we both came again, making an even bigger mess.

My terrible day turned out to be pretty great, and when my wife started to pretend to be mad at me for surprising her, I took her upstairs and licked her pussy until she forgave me.

She didn’t immediately become okay with letting me watch her masturbate after that, but the door was cracked open, and she let me experiment with it until she was finally comfortable.

And boy, is she comfortable now!

Watching my wife fuck herself with a kitchen implement was too much. I came almost immediately, trying not to make any noise.

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