Pushing The Envelope - Part One

A husband decides to rekindle the passion in his marriage by fair means or foul.

A tale that mixes a lot of true life experiences with a touch of fantasy.

Dammit, Mark, that’s enough already”, hissed my wife, LeAnn, as she forcefully, but discretely pushes my wandering hands away from. “You’ll barrass us”. We were standing in our umpteenth store, shopping for kitchen cabinets for the re-modeling we were planning to do. The store was packed, the staff were busy and stressed, and it looked like we were in for a long wait. As we wandered the mock kitchens I feigned interest all the while taking in the innate sexiness of my wife and getting hornier and hornier all the time. Just so you have a sense of my situation, let me tell you that LeAnn and I have been married for about 16 years, the first 10 of which were filled with non-stop raunchy sex at least once a day. It was she who introduced anal sex into our repertoire one night as an experiment. Honest. It was like being on a permanent honeymoon until “we” got pregnant and it all went to hell after that – the sex that is. LeAnn put on a lot of weight with the pregnancy, but we had a beautiful daughter whom we love dearly. LeAnn struggled with her weight for a long time after the pregnancy and couldn’t shift those extra pounds. It seriously affected her self-image, which in turn, affected our love life. Add to that the feeling a lot of men get when they are no longer the centre of their wife’s universe and you have a pretty good idea of how miserable I was becoming. Nevertheless, I am a patient man, and, thanks to the internet, I turned to porn and erotic story sites to fill my masturbating fantasies. I never hid this from LeAnn and even gained her tacit approval as it meant I didn’t bother her as much. She also toned down her dress sense, no longer wearing short skirts and heels, almost preferring the ‘house-coat and slippers’ look – Yuck! Then, about 6 months ago, LeAnn found what ‘works for her’ and, vavoom, the excess weight melted off and suddenly she was her sylph-like former self. For a 39 year old woman, she’s a stunner. At a slim 5’6”, with long, straight blonde hair down to the middle of her back, gorgeous blue eyes, small, but very responsive 36B breasts and, my favourite feature, the shapeliest, longest legs it was possible to have on a woman her size. Even better was the fact that she began to dress sexily again. Even though she had become a tad prudish over the last 6 years, she still knew how to display her assets and turn heads without looking slutty and today was no exception. Hair held back in a pony-tail, close fitting tan coloured tank-top over her usual padded bra, a mid-thigh length denim skirt that had a subtle flare on the lower third, and high heeled strappy sandals. I prefer stockings and pumps on a woman but, hey, it’s July and she’s got the tanned legs to compensate. My cock ached just looking at her sashay around the store. And then, I think I went insane. We found ourselves amongst some of the less popular kitchen models on display. It was certainly quieter, and before I knew it I began recalling stories I had read of exhibitionism and reluctance and wondered how far I could push the envelope with LeAnn, right now, in an attempt to re-ignite the passion of in our marriage. We were at a corner display, our lower bodies shielded by a kitchen island when I suggested that LeAnn take a closer look at the features of the kitchen island. She did and with my heart in my throat I took a chance. “God LeAnn, you look so good I could just fuck you right here over this counter”, I said. “I’m sure you would, but it’s never gonna happen. Now, behave”, she replied in a hushed tone, looking around to make sure no-one heard my lewd comment. That was exactly what I was banking on as I stepped behind her, pushing my body up against hers, pinning her at waist level to the kitchen island. With my hands I quickly placed both her hands on the island counter-top and pinned them down with my left hand thus freeing my right hand to reach under her skirt. I deftly pulled her panties aside and unceremoniously assaulted her pussy with my fingers. Now, obviously, I am bigger and stronger than LeAnn, but even I was surprised at how effectively she had become disabled. Before she could collect her thoughts and in an attempt to avoid a scene I quickly reminded her, “Relax. I just want to feel that pussy of yours so don’t make a scene. I promise I’ll stop as soon as anyone looks like they might notice. Okay?” Her breathing was shallow as she whispered, “Mark, for god’s sake, stop”. She tried to shrug me off, but I had her pinned and she was too afraid of causing a scene to shout out. Perfect. “No,” I replied. “I’m fed up with waiting for you to decide when is a good time for me to have MY pussy. Don’t you know how much you turn me on? How much I want you?” I couldn’t believe it, she was getting wet and I’d already slipped a finger easily between the folds of her pussy. Almost inaudibly, she muttered, “P-please.” Two fingers in and out slowly. Pulling almost all the way out, using the rest of my hand to rub up against the lips of her pussy on the outward motion, then slowly pushing forward again. In no time she is sopping wet and no longer resisting in any way. I release her hands and she steadies herself, palms spread, by leaning on the counter-top. She is no longer scanning the store, no longer afraid of discovery. I lift the back of her skirt up to the small of her back and then gently press her forward. She bends slightly over the counter top. I so desperately want to take my cock out and stuff into her wet dripping pussy, but that would be too far too soon. I continue to slowly fuck her with my two fingers, but now I can lean slightly forward and reach around with my left hand to begin the attack on her clit. My head looks over her right shoulder, scanning the store in case we should be discovered. The fingers of my left hand find their way down the front of her panties and search for her clit. Her sharp intake of breath soon tells me I have found what I want and I begin applying a two-fingered, gentle, circular rubing motion around her love bud. A low, satisfying moan escapes her lips and then she starts to push back into my groin area. She is, unexpectedly, totally in the moment, enjoying the sensations running through her pussy. I pull my right hand out from inside her pussy exacting a plaintive moan from LeAnn. “What is it babe? Do you want me to carry on?” “Yes, don’t stop.” Almost panting, I’ve seen her like this before. “Don’t stop what? Tell me what you want?” Pleadingly she responds, “Put them back in me.” Her hips are slowly gyrating, grinding into my hard-on. I so want to fuck her right now. I tease some more. “Put what, where? Tell me, my little slut.” At the mention of being called a slut she groans louder, lurching forward, forcing herself onto the fingers that play with her clit. “Your fingers. Put them back in my pussy. Please.” Wow! I did not expect that reaction. I briefly suck on those lucky right hand fingers and then maneuvered three fingers to plunge back into her slick wet cunt. As soon as I enter her she straightens up a little and moans in pleasure at the feeling. It only takes another 4 or 5 gentle, but firm, thrusts into her pussy to send her over the edge. She cums. I think the contractions of her pussy are going to break my fingers even as she traps and all but crushes the fingers of my left hand against the kitchen island. She does a fabulous job of not screaming aloud as I feel the orgasm wrack her body. I let her come down as gently as I can and have to support her briefly as her legs give way beneath her. It seems like forever, but it’s been barely five minutes since I began the assault on my wife. “Oh my god,” she says, catching her breath whilst looking around to see if anyone noticed. “I can’t believe you did that to me. Why?” “Seriously?” I respond. “Look at you, you’re hot and you needed to cum. I’m still as hard as a rock, look at me.” “Tough,” she said. She looked confused, maybe a little barrassed, so she chose to get mad at me. Which she did for the remainder of the shopping trip and well into the night. Thing is, I now had a plan………………………

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