All sexual activity described in these stories happens between adults over the age of eighteen. These characters exist in a world without risk of disease or unwanted pregnancy. I don’t find condoms and discussions of birth control sexy so I don’t include them. If they are a turn on for you, please feel free to imagine their inclusion wherever appropriate.
Finally, these stories are the exclusive work of the author and all rights are reserved.
The Chronicles of Amy and Dave. Chapter Five
In which we return to Pink cards and Blue cards, 7 years into our marriage.
My name is Amy. I have a wonderful, loving, sexy husband, David. We’ve been married 15 years and together 18. I am a tenured professor of Biology at the university here. David is an engineer by training. He works as a kind of operational problem solver for a big manufacturer headquartered in town and he travels regularly. I love him. He loves me. We’ve no children and have made a lovely comfortable life together.
Dave: As per usual, this is Dave. If I intrude, I’ll announce myself.
After sharing our first set of cards, Amy and I had jumped right in fulfilling a shared fantasy. If you remember, we had promised to categorize our entries.
…….
That stupid little file box filled my thoughts all day. David had awakened erect and wasted little time rousing me and ploughing his glorious tool into my pussy. From behind is a favorite for me, and David had manhandled me from my back to my hands and knees and fucked me hard. The curve of his dick pushes against the roof of my tunnel perfectly when we do it this way. It’s a position that hides our faces from each other and tends to lead to a more frenzied, more aggressive coupling. That morning David had been forceful and dominating. I got fucked. Pounded. It was a lovely start to the day.
For most of our marriage, I’ve gotten home before Dave. I tend to teach in the mornings, so on teaching days, I get to my lab in the afternoon. Non-teaching days are all lab and admin. I write grant applications, deal with my responsibilities as a professor, read journals and direct my lab. Grants pay my staff’s salary and fund my expenses. Without them I have no lab, so they are a very high priority indeed. I wrote grant applications. My day tends to go from 8 to 5, but I don’t often have to go past 5.
Dave’s job is generally 9 to 5, but he works hard. His responsibility encompasses all his employer’s plants, and crises come up often. He travels regularly, usually for a few days, but once a quarter he’s away for a week. At that point in his career, he was working very hard, and climbing the ladder. Generally, he’s home by 7, but later nights were not uncommon. Dinner is usually my responsibility.
Morning sex usually leaves me relaxed and clear headed. That day, it served to bring the events of the weekend to the front of my thoughts. I have no real memory of teaching, office hours or my trips back and forth to school. That file box was a siren call directly to my brain.
Home by 5:30, I started on dinner and some tidying, willfully ignoring the box. I set the table and the box called to me. By 6:30 I had prepped everything in the kitchen and the noise from the box was deafening. “Hell, I can’t wait for Dave.”
I went into the den and cleared last night’s glasses and the ashtray. Dave’s suit jacket hung from the back of a chair, but otherwise there was little to do in the den. The box glowed on the coffee table, floating into the air and shooting sparkler fire in every direction. That might have been a delusion, but there was no doubt that my eyes returned to it repeatedly. It was an ocular magnet and inescapably attractive.
I grabbed Dave’s coat and went to the bedroom to hang it. I found the matching pants, folded over a hanger in Dave’s closet, and lifted them. As I slid the hanger onto the coat, it caught against the inside pocket. Dave’s “bonus pack” of unused cards was there. I patted the pockets and there was another card, the card Dave had declined to show last night.
Curiosity is an interesting thing. It nags at you, then if you can resist, it will ebb and flow in your consciousness. It never goes away. I was curious about those cards. What had Dave left unshown? I needed him home to hide these away from me. These weren’t harmless secrets. They were explosives. I left them alone and hung the coat. Returning to the hallway and down the stairs, I got about halfway to the den and stopped. I was between two magnets and pulled both ways: one licit, the other forbidden, a betrayal. I pulled from the illicit tractor beam and got safely to the den. Danger lurked there too. It’s probably crazy, but I felt virtuous that I hadn’t succumbed to the temptation of the unread cards. Why would I feel good about foregoing a betrayal of my loving husband? No idea, but it felt that way.
I fetched the box and looked inside. In the front, a pile of blue cards sat waiting for my input. I didn’t see my cards at first. The pink cards weren’t in the front. My stomach dropped, was our game cancelled? These thoughts, and shame and worry flashed through me in an instant. Had Dave gotten angry and tossed the evidence of my perversion? Was last night’s bravery to be rewarded with disaster? Then I saw a couple of pink cards peaking out behind the dividers. Of course he hadn’t cancelled my game. He had made his categorization. The wave of fear (disappointment?) passed. Oh boy, he’d made his decisions…. A different wave of fear thrilled through me.
A closer look showed two of the pink cards were refilled on edge, peaking up above their divider. The others were hidden in sections. Time to find out my fate.
The first three categories all had cards. These were the categories that we would actually try, in real life. What had David decided? I looked through the sections: 6 cards. “A Woman,” “DP” and “Amy’s Affair” were filed in Category 4: Fantasy and Roleplay only. Totally reasonable, though I felt a little disappointment about each in turn. My logical mind knew these were not things to do in real life, but each was thrilling and forbidden. Other people didn’t enter our bed. Dave’s choices told me they would be allowed to enter our imagination. I was pleased to see my late additions categorized in the “No Planning Required” section: ” Dave shaves Amy” and “Tit Fucking” were in my future. Cool.
Two cards were edgewise: “Exhibitionism” and “Cum.” Dave had attached a Post-it written to each:
“Exhibitionism is not the same as public sex, I think we were wrong last night to group them. We should discuss and refine those two.”
“Cum” could be interpreted as a part of all our sex. If there’s something special or one-time in this request, we need to discuss, otherwise it’s a Category 1: Spur of the Moment. We need to clarify and see if you truly fantasize about some unique event more than everyday play.”
I looked at the last section, Dave had replaced the last divider with a red one. He is so organized. Not surprisingly, “Rape” was filed under “Red Zone.”
Overall, nothing unexpected, as if anything in this game was expected. Probably my strongest reaction was that the ideas involving other people were included in the roleplay section. They hadn’t gone directly to the Red Zone.
We had never invited other people into our sex lives, neither in fantasy and certainly not in reality. The only third-party name that had come up in our conversations was Cindy, Dave’s young, bombshell colleague. She had not come up in a happy way. One night the year before, Dave had come home late from a week long trip, with Cindy. His car wouldn’t start after a week in the airport long term parking. They’d spent a week together traveling, and now she was driving him home. Cindy liked Dave. Cindy was a bombshell: young, bright, funny and stacked. She had curves everywhere I lacked them. If I’m a stick insect, she’s an hourglass. I’m not sure you could invent a woman more likely to provoke my jealousy. I was immediately irritated with him. My anticipation of his return drowned by insecurity. Of course, he was tired and worn out from the trip and the flight, so I provoked a fight pretty easily as we got in bed. Words like “unfaithful” and “home-wrecking hussy” might have come from one side. Words like ” trust,” “unreasonable” and “I’m going to sleep,” came from the other.
I hate being in arguments where my position is immediately and recognizably stupid. I don’t like to lose and I don’t like being obviously wrong. Even then I have trouble backing down. I had risen knowing I’d been out of line. The morning involved some tears, some apologies and some reassurance. Not a sexy way to bring a third to our bed. Now Dave was inviting others into our fantasies. I’d asked for them, so had he. I realized I’d been worried they would land in the forbidden zone.
For my part, I had a pretty good idea where Dave’s cards were going to go.
The only one I wasn’t willing to countenance was Photography. The idea of being photographed in lingerie (even naked?!), was exciting, but I don’t really like looking at pictures of myself. I focus on my flaws and I’m self-conscious. Further, lasting records of my nudity were extraordinarily risky. My career depended on my reputation nearly as much as my talent. My publications, position and the success of my research were more important, but universities are closed and sensitive beasts. A picture would spread like wildfire and I’d be damaged, maybe beyond recovery. Red Zone.
I had taken pictures, as part of a game of dares with Monica, years before. The act had felt forbidden and exciting. But those pictures were anonymous, if graphic. I had no intention of anything remotely sexy happening that exposed my face. Red Zone.
I found it easy to separate the four “other people’ cards and stick them into Roleplay. If Dave was willing to entertain mine, reciprocity was only fair. The difficult one was “Amy’s Affair.” Red Zone beckoned, but it had also been my fantasy, albeit the card I’d hastily added as a late replacement. No way I could change my mind and reject his matching card. I slotted the rest of the cards. Most seemed to fit obviously in the three “we are going to try these in real life” sections. I felt a twinge in my pussy at the thought that we were agreeing to try these things.
I went to put the roast in the oven. Timer set, I went to the bedroom and stripped off my work clothes. Definitely a day to dress for David. I don’t wear sexy underclothes often. I used to, but I had lost the habit. Maybe that was another symptom of our general sexual malaise. I poked through the drawer and selected a lacy, light blue bra and matching boy shorts. I like these shorts. They’re tight and they outline my pussy lips in a cameltoe. The stretchy material cups my mound and presses against my sex. They raise my ass and mold it to give me a nicer shape. The broader coverage across my hips hide my hip bones a bit and make me feel less like a skinny totem pole. Boy shorts are a favorite.
The bra was flattering. I like my tits and the bra showcased them well. The cups raised them a bit and accentuated their upturned teardrop shape. My hardening nipples were clearly visible through the soft fabric. I debated a dress vs the usual jeans and tshirt I usually wear after work. A dress would be a strong signal to Dave: “I’m excited and eager for you.” Maybe l’d try for surprise? I went for surprise. Jeans and tshirt covered my sexy underthings. I was looking forward to the reveal.
Dave’s suit jacket called to me from the closet. I actually went so far as to look at it on the hanger. The cards in the breast pocket distorted its shape. “Can’t go there,” “not fair,” “don’t look.” A buzzer sounded from the kitchen. I’m a disorganized cook and I set a lot of timers for myself so I don’t get distracted and mess things up. I went to the kitchen and started the veg. I checked and basted the roast. I felt Dave’s suit jacket above me in the bedroom, but I was pleased with my restraint. The attraction had become easier to resist. I puttered and cooked in the kitchen.
Dave called to tell me he was in the car. I told him his timing was perfect and dinner was almost ready.
With Dave’s arrival, we ate together and exchanged recaps of our days. Neither of us brought up the elephant lurking in the den. We cleared dishes and went in to sit and finish our wine.
“Did you look in the box?”
I told him I had.
“You saw my allocations?”
“I did.”
“Anything you wanted to discuss?”
I looked at him and said, “I agree with you that Public Sex and Exhibitionism are actually pretty different. One is sex, the other only might be.”
“Exactly. How about “Cum?” I laughed at the incongruity of the question.
“Dave: that one might be the strongest urge in my deck. I think I’ve developed a fetish for it. When I wrote that card I envisioned some extreme stuff. I have dreams.”
“Dreams?”
“I’ve had a recurring one that visits me. It’s one I’ve had for a couple of years.”
“Anything you want to share?”
“Not now, Dave. It’s perverse and I’m scared of it.”
“Did you make your choices?” he asked.
“I did. No surprises I think. I can’t do Photography, but everything else is at least admissible in our fantasy life. I put all the “other people” ones in Roleplay only, like you.”
“Did you consider making any of those things we could actually try?” He asked.
“Not really, I’m not at all ready for that.”
“Me neither. Ames, I was thinking of another rule.” Dave has a lot of rules. “I think we should not add any more cards until we’ve made a dent in the current group. Some of them are scary. If we keep adding small ones, we’ll avoid the biggies.”
“I added two extra already.”
“I love both. Let’s leave them there. But let’s stop adding for a while.”
“Okay. Dave, I wanted to look at your extra cards. Could you hide them from me?”
He turned red. “Did you look?”
“I knew it would be unfair, so I didn’t. I really wanted to.”
He looked relieved and smiled. “Thanks. There’s some stuff that is really embarrassing. Some of them I’m not sure I want even as fantasy. I don’t want you to see them.”
“I left them in your jacket. Hide them.”
We went back to the kitchen and cleaned pots and pans. Dishes went into the dishwasher. Forgettable conversation occupied us.
After a movie on the TV, we went upstairs.
Dave was in bed reading when I finished my ablutions. I’d kept my clothes on, hiding my undergarments. I stood in front of the mirror, back to the bed and angled myself so I could see him behind me. He could see my front reflected there if he looked. I stripped my tee. A peek at his reflection showed he was still reading, but an eye rose over the book and I saw he’d noticed me.
Bending over, I pushed my jeans down. I wiggled my hips a bit as I slid the pants off. I consciously kept my legs straight so I had to jackknife at the waist to get them off. Not the usual way to remove jeans, but the best way to flash my assets to my husband. As I bent, I took a quick peek in the mirror. He was looking now. The book was back on the bedside table.
I walked to his side and reached for the front closure of my light blue bra. Unclasped, I slid the straps of my shoulders. Boy shorts followed and I stood in front of him, brazenly naked.
I slid between the covers.
Dave looked at me, resting his head on a pillow, six inches from me. “Do you want to try a card?”
“Sweetie. Tonight I want you to hold me and love me. Our game last night scared the crap out of me. I was embarrassed, frightened, that we’d both had fantasies that brought in other people. I’m scared by those. Even the stuff that’s only for us is scary. Tonight, I think I need to put that stuff away. I already feel the benefits from this game. I spent the whole day thinking about sex and thinking about jumping on you, I put on the lingerie because I wanted to feel the soft fabric against my sex. I wanted to surprise you, like unwrapping a candy. But now I want your comfort.”
His arms encircled me and he molded himself around my nakedness. “I’m scared too, Ames, but I love that you have a dirty mind. I feel like I’m seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time in a long while.”
He leaned into a soft kiss. I could feel his hardness against my thigh and the kiss deepened. My excitement had simmered all day, and now it reappeared in force. I drew the covers back and slid down his hairy chest. Dave is a big man. I can lie atop him and feel like I’m suspended over water, safe from the depths, floating. I moved down until I was between his legs, inches from his beautiful, curved cock. I licked its length from bottom to top. He twitched and his erection lifted from his torso and bumped against my open lips. I like giving blowjobs. I love the velvet softness that contrasts the steely hardness beneath. I love the smell of him. His excitement drives mine and when he cums I feel the pulse and jerk of his climax right down to my core. His cock gets even thicker and his ecstatic spurts coat my tongue and fill my mouth. He is, however, very thick so I can’t take him too deeply for too long. The girth exhausts my jaw.
That night, I licked him top to bottom. I teased him with the tip of my tongue in the slit that caps his glans. I took him as far as I could into my mouth, and I sucked and licked the sensitive spot below the head. He jerked and swelled. I needed him inside me, filling and sealing me. I scootched back up, stopping only to drag my breasts against the sloppy slick surface of his cock. I straddled him, and angled him up to rub through my wetness. Sinking slowly, the thick head dividing and pushed insistently into me. My sopping hole protested as the spongy hardness sought entrance to my body. With a sudden progression, he slipped into me and I sank down an inch or two. The stretching fullness sent a wave of excitement and pleasure through me. We’ve done this so many times, but that first almost painful stretch always feels new. Rising slowly, I felt him withdraw until just the knobbed presence of his tip remained inside me. I dropped again, and again, deeper each time until at last my ass rested against his thighs. His shaft plumbed my depths, the head bumping against the terminus of my vagina. The obscene girth stretching my canal.
“So fucking full.”
I rested there, sitting on his hard length, feeling the heat and his pulse swelling gently in me. I rolled my hips, sliding my clit against his pubic bone. The delicious curve of his cock pressing against the length of my canal. Our pubic hair intermingled like Velcro. I pressed my hands to his broad chest and lifted myself off him, rising until his lovely swollen head again stretched the very opening of my pussy. I bowed my head, hiding my eyes behind a curtain of hair. Rising again, I started a slow rhythm accelerating in parallel to my excitement. Soon I was riding him hard, meeting the angled thrusts Dave made from beneath.
“Fuck me, Dave. Fill me and fuck me.”
I lost any real sense of time or place. All my awareness centered on the sliding, pumping, stretching length of his beautiful cock plundering my pussy.
“Cum with me, cum in me. Fuck, I’m cumming, fill me. Please fill me.”
I crashed over the edge, falling in a vortex of ecstatic ringing pleasure. Dave’s cock, unyielding as I pressed him as far inside me as I could manage, jamming my clit against him. I felt him swell, then pulse his warm viscous cream against my cervix. His hands grasped my hips in an almost painful grip.
I rolled off him onto my back. Reaching between my legs, I probed the gaping opening of my used pussy. I could feel the dripping wetness of his semen, leaking down to my asshole. I rubbed the cum into my heated slit and jerked through an aftershock.
Dave turned to me and gathered me into his encompassing embrace. His wet cock against my thigh. I relaxed into the comforting warmth of my lover and slept.
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