by Writing Shark
Your wife is waiting for you in the bedroom
“Hello darling” whispers Hellen again. When you’re near her, she’s often at a loss for words, which only turns you on more. “I missed you.”
As befits your wife, she kneels in front of your matrimonial bed, dressed in her underwear and nightgown. Hellen is only allowed on the bed with your permission or to clean, and she heeds your rules with iron conviction. She looks beautiful squatting on the carpet and looking at you expectantly, her hands on her thighs, her feet folded under her, her back pressed straight through and her head slightly lowered. You close the door behind you and look at your wife, the love of your life. As you do every night, you size her up, inspect her while she waits patiently for your judgment.
“Come here,” you say and Hellen jumps up and gracefully shoots towards you. Your wife has undressed you so many times in your marriage that she masters it like no other to make you horny with her movements while folding your laundry and putting it neatly on a chair. She wiggles her ass, presents you her backside, bends over, shows you her profile and swings her hips while she takes off your shirt. Then she wants to get on her knees in front of you but you stop her. “On the bed.” Her face brightens joyfully and she immediately rises and drops onto the soft sheet. Her breasts move enticingly and her bra pushes past the silken fabric of her nightgown as she waits for you. You sit down on the edge of the bed. “Position.” Again, your wife obeys immediately, whirling around, laying her upper body on the bed, her head turned toward you, looking over her shoulder at you. She spreads her legs and her hands are on her butt.
“I’m ready for you master” she purrs with sparkling eyes. You slowly take off your pants, then your socks and panties. Hellen gets wide-eyed, as always, when she sees you naked, but doesn’t budge. You are the man, you take what you want. And you want to have Hellen. She begins to tremble slightly as you move behind her and slide your rod between her buttocks. Your finger slides through her opening, wet and ready as ever. A soft gasp escapes her throat like the panting of a dog as she feels your touch. Then she freezes as you drive your glans over her opening. You torture her with your movements but Hellen remains steadfast, waiting the moment you decide to take her.
“How was it today with Gemma?” you ask, mentioning your 18 year-old youngest daughter as you slowly drill into your wife’s wet cunt.
“Oh god…” gasps Hellen, but then pulls herself together. You asked her a question and she has to answer. “She… She asked me why you hug her so rarely.” You grin devilishly. Everything right on schedule.
“What did you say?” You stroke through her wet snatch several times, noticing the tremors and goosebumps on her butt, the wetness around your tip and her soft skin. Your hands glide gently over her it. Then you give her a light slap on one buttock and lift your hand far up. Hellen knows that you are preparing for a proper punishment, should you not like her answer. This is how you’ve been doing it for the last 20 years.
“I… I told her that you take care of us. Ha… That you give your time and energy for us and… ha… we should be grateful to you…” Your hand sinks again.
“I have a smart wife.”
“You taught me to be like that.” She smiles at you over her shoulder, half her face covered by her hair. You’re not the only one who benevolently remembers your past. “You made me better.”
“True,” you mumble. Then you penetrate Hellen thoroughly and deeply. She gasps for air, tears open her mouth, but can’t make a sound.
You had your first sex the night after your prom. Hellen was devastated. The life that had made her seem so much better than you had caught up with her, trapped her, and destroyed her. She had learned nothing in school. Beautiful people don’t need to learn anything. Hellen had relied on that. She was a cheerleader. She had a boyfriend. Without knowledge in her head, there was nothing that could sway her from her path. She had friends, but the wrong ones. So did losers and wimps who didn’t understand life. They were no help to her. She had her family, but only to the point where she was supposed to stand on her own two feet. Only bad mothers protect their children all their lives. Only bad fathers let their children get away with anything. And Hellen had her boyfriend, the football star. She thought she knew him, loved him. Without knowledge of the world or the society she lived in, she had no chance.
She wanted to surprise him with her pregnancy. He was surprised. Then he had left her, that very evening. And Hellen was heartbroken. A sad, tragic story, with a happy ending. For you as well as for her… if you had been the same as at the beginning of your story.
Hellen was perfect for you. She had realized what she had done, had repented and had come to you. She wanted a family. She wanted peace and quiet. She wanted security. You wanted all that too.
But not like this. You deserved better. It had never been so hard for you to say ‘no’. But you had done it. You had put her to bed, on the guest sofa, tucked her in, ignored her tears and her shock. She had told you everything and you had not become a couple.
Then came the worst night of your life. Irreparable damage to your soul. But you got through it. You were a man. And you came up with a plan. In one single night.
The next morning, Hellen was still there. She was sound asleep, having cried herself to sleep. You woke her up. That was the last day of her life she would wake up after you.
The conversation had not lasted long. You had told her everything, no secrets, straight up. Hellen is smart and you had included her. But she hadn’t said anything. Only at the very end.
“Think it over carefully,” you had said. “Take your time. I’ll wait for you. Until then, you can live here.”
“I’ll do it,” she had replied. It had taken her barely two seconds, she was so convinced. There was no going back, and you both knew it. Hellen had chosen you.
The next day you had aborted the baby. With it died the conviction in Hellen that she alone was responsible for her life. A week later you moved in together. A month later you got engaged to her. In that time Hellen had become the woman you expected her to be. She was beautiful, so she worked hard to maintain that beauty. She was intelligent, so she used her intellect to support you. It didn’t take long for Hellen to become everything you needed her to be. She never contradicted you. She did everything you asked of her. She supported you of her own accord. She was grateful to you, knowing what she would become if she was ever left on her own again. She became the perfect wife.
Writing Shark 