I halfway expected Jennifer to join me at some point in the shower, but to my temporary disappointment, she had apparently decided this event would take place solely in bed. As I opened the shower door to reach for a towel, I realized that at some time while I was washing, probably while lustfully rubbing my cock and trying not to blow the whole evening right then and there, Jennifer had slipped into the walk-in closet at the end of the bathroom. I could see her silhouette behind the door, dressing for bed I thought, undressing I hoped.
Evidently she heard the water shut off and the creaking shower door open because the closet door quickly slid further closed, cutting off my view. I pulled a towel from the rack next to the sink and began drying off. As I lifted one leg up to the counter so I could dry my crotch I heard what sounded like a metal chain of some sort coming from the closet. Or maybe it was a belt buckle? Before I could decide what was possibly making the noise, Jennifer cracked the door back open a bit.
“Do that in the bedroom,” she barked. “Then stand at the end of the bed. DON’T get dressed.”
A flash of fear rushed through me at her tone before I settled on the fact that this was what I had wanted.
“Okay.” I replied, trying to mask my excitement.
“What?!?” The metallic noise ceased and Jennifer’s obvious displeasure with my reaction to her command signaled it was time to get it in gear.
“I mean, y-yes ma’am.”
“Uh huh.” She muttered back still clearly annoyed.
My stammer was only partially intentional as I grew increasingly aroused at the notion of my wife demanding my obedience. It’s not that she was a meek woman, far from it. Jen’s independence and strength had been something that drew me to her long before we ever started dating just after high school. In fact, I knew several other guys my age at the time who wouldn’t even consider asking her out because of her reputation as “intimidating”. But, up till now, that domineering nature had never manifested itself in the bedroom. I quietly hoped that was about to change as I closed the bathroom door behind me and headed for the foot of our bed.
I did as I was told and finished drying off in the bedroom. I wrapped the towel around my waist and waited. As I stood there I heard Jennifer moving from the closet into the bathroom. I couldn’t decide if she was now standing at the sink, readying herself in the mirror, or at the toilet “readying herself” there instead. As I said earlier, anal pleasure had become a favorite of hers recently and I hoped that at some point the evening may lead down that road, for both of us. I imagined her standing over the bowl, legs spread and flexing, ridding herself of any nasty remnants of the day which may obstruct or otherwise intrude on our intimacy. I didn’t really know if this was actually her routine before we engaged in anal, we didn’t do it every time, but she was always nice and fresh when I would venture “down there” and so far the same had been true for her rear entrance as well.
I used to keep an empty enema bottle ready in the shower for my own cleansing, either before toying my ass, or just to freshen up after a particularly bad movement. These days we have a custom shower head that works nicely. I hate feces, and having to go, well, number two, for lack of a better term. My disdain for bowel necessities made the fact that I loved anal play that much more intriguing to me. My mother once told me that my “hating to go” was why I was always constipated as a child. Later, a therapist I was forced to visit after my parents discovered my stash of pornography told me that my hatred of going was probably why I had such an anal fixation as puberty hit. Whatever the reason, I hate to take a dump, but love a long firm “cock” (or purple toy) in my ass. Go figure.
The sharp sound of several items scattering on the bathroom counter brought me back from my momentary daydream. There were several more rustling noises, from a drawer it seemed, then nothing. I stood there, motionless; hoping to catch an audible clue of what might be going on in there, but nothing came. Silence, for what seemed like minutes was finally broken by the click of the light switch, and the narrow strip of light surrounding the bathroom door vanished. My willing ass actually clenched beneath the towel, now hanging vicariously from my hips and my heart beat quickened. I fixed my eyes on the door knob as it began to turn, as if on its own. My breath was trapped in my chest as I stared at the widening seam between the door and its trim, first quickly as if it would fly open, then it stopped. I tried to pierce the darkness behind the narrow opening but my eyes were not prepared for the strain. Like an idiot I had left the lights on in the bedroom instead of abandoning the bright over head floods for the intimate glow of Jennifer’s bedside lamp, and she was going to be upset about it.
“Turn around. Don’t look at me yet.” She ordered.
I wheeled around, causing the towel to loosen even further. I tried to keep it from falling completely but my movement only made matters worse and it released itself, falling to the floor. I started to bend over, all too happy to expose my bare ass to my wife. After all, that’s what I ultimately wanted for this night, my bare ass, beaten and violated by the woman I loved.
From behind Jennifer cracked what to that point seemed like the first true demand of my total submission to her for the evening.
“Leave it! You won’t need it again for a while.”
Upon hearing my instructions I snapped back to attention and offered a pathetic apology.
The cheesiness of my response made me cringe inside, as if I were some Mounty who had just disappointed his damsel in a Canadian soap opera. Apparently the moment was not lost on Jennifer either, as she fell deeper into her role.
“Shut up and close your eyes! Don’t say anything else unless I tell you to, got it?”
In a moment of crystal clarity, I only nodded.
“Finally.” She exclaimed as if tortured by some persistent annoyance that had at last subsided. “You do get it.”
My wife’s unbridled enthusiasm for what was transpiring now encouraged me. That is, until I came to the swift realization that I may in fact, be in for more than I bargained for, a thought which pulsated in my now half stiff erection. As it grew again I closed my eyes tight, so tight in fact that I almost didn’t notice when Jen turned out the lights. Was this it? Would I finally be taken from behind by my wife? I stood there in the dark, knowing even with my eyes clenched that the room was now black.
I could feel Jennifer moving about me, preparing things for the coming event. I heard the soft click of her lamp and it reminded me again of how I already should have taken care of that. The crisp snap of a lighter made me twitch as Jen lit candles; the scent filled the room and made me smile. She was getting into the moment, a fact that only meant better things to come for me! Drawers opened and closed, a zipper separated and items rustled in a bag. I knew exactly where she was, and what she was doing. She was in the “toy box”. I hoped she could see the grin on my face as she readied whatever items she needed to do her business.
Finally, there was eerie silence as she stopped moving about. In that moment I realized I had drifted just enough to lose track of her in the room. Again, my ass cheeks clenched, even though I was fairly certain she was still beside our bed, and in front of me, the idea of a sneaky slap on the ass, or even more titillating, my cock and balls, sent me into a near full body shiver. As a million erotic images of what my wife may be planning, wearing or not wearing danced in my head, I heard the now low, hard rasp of Jen’s suddenly seductive voice….