Naive wife to Submissive Slut - Please PM

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I checked the clock again, Rachel Ray had said that this meal should only take thirty minutes, but I figured that it would take another thirty to get it complete. I knew that the shows on TV always had things just perfect. However, every time I tried one of these recipes it just hadn’t turned out right. Well the first time.

I was hoping to have things ready by the time Joe and my husband got back from racquetball. Joe came to our house at least once a month. He was not only my husband’s employer, but his best friend since they were in grade school, so he was around quite a bit. There had been stories about him, I had heard them from girlfriends who had heard them from other girlfriends. I knew he had a lot of women friends, but supposedly it wasn’t the amount of money he had, but the size of his penis.

I knew my husband wasn’t as large as other men, but he was my first and my only lover. We had met my sophomore year of college. As soon as I graduated we married, and the last seven years had been wonderful. We were both moderately successful in our careers and the only thing I felt we were missing were children.

I heard Joes sports car pull up in the driveway and checked the thermometer on the beef. It was still not even rare, so grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge I went to meet my husband and his friend. I got to the door just as they were opening it. I wrapped my arms around my husband and his lips met mine. I still love the way he kisses, it’s just like the first time. As he breaks the kiss, he grabs one of the beers from my hand.

Joe is standing next to him in the door. I know I have to give him a hug; he is almost part of our family. However, he is always trying to grab my butt or one time at a party he was hosting, a pool party, he tried to catch the string holding my swimsuit up. I just can never tell what kind of mood he’s going to be in.

I leaned in to give him a hug, and suddenly there was his mouth against mine. I tried to break the kiss, but he kept pressing into me. I felt my cheeks start to burn and I pushed him away. I looked at my husband for some kind of support, but he obviously had blown it off as Joe being Joe. Silently, I handed him his beer and headed back into the kitchen to check on the dinner.

I poured myself a glass of the Argentine Malbec I had picked up to have with dinner and took a swallow to calm my nerves.

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I had checked the steaks, and they were perfect. I sliced them and completed the sandwiches. Putting the pickled vegetables on the side, and put the bag of chips in a bowel. I had heard them head to the den, and knew that they were watching the game.

I brought the sandwiches and chips to the den. I saw that my husband had taken his usual chair, and Joe had taken a seat in the loveseat,, which was the only other piece of furniture in the room. I set the food on the table between them. I bit my bottom lip a moment while considering my options.

Joe was a pretty nice guy, most of the time. I had put up with some of his inappropriateness in the past, and I knew that he was harmless. It was all part of his persona, but sometimes it really bothered me.

I crossed in front of the TV and sat next to Joe. I sipped my glass of wine, and watched the game. I felt Joe's thigh press against mine, I was going to try to move over, but I was up against the arm rest of the sofa. My husband, handed out sandwiches while we watched the game. I was trying to find a reason to get up, but for some reason both men were nursing their beers.

I finished my glass of wine. I still felt Joes thigh against mine, but now he seemed closer. I hadn't noticed him sliding over, but somewhere he must have. I normally didnt' have more than one glass of wine, but I needed to find an out. Standing up I asked.

"Either of you boys need another beer?"

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I had seen my break, and was getting ready to head to the kitchen when Joe spoke.

"You're not going to leave so soon, are you Mary? Bill, be a gentleman and get the beautiful lady another wine and two more beers for us, ok?"

My husband slowly got to his feet and taking my glass, left the room. I couldn't just leave, I was the hostess, and reluctently I took my seat next to Joe.

"Am I bothering you," he inquired? He must have felt my uncomfortableness as I felt his body again next to mine. "Its rare that I have the chance to spend quality time with a woman who isn't all about my money."

"No," I lied, "I am ok with you beside me, I am sorry that we don't have more seating in the den." Trying to find something to say, I just said the first thing that popped in my mind.

"Maybe if you gave him a raise we could get a bigger sofa."

Joe looked at me and laughed. "Your husband isn't my employee, he is essentially a contractor who does my books. He is totally responsible for making his own money."

I felt my face go red as I realized that not only had I insulted our guest, but I had also shown my ignorance to my husbands business affairs. I searched for an out, a way to recover from my blunder. Trying to change the direction of the conversation I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

"My friends say that all the women that you have are after your money."

I felt his eyes on me, as he slowly commented on my admittance to gossip.

"Well that and maybe one other thing."

"Oh," I had an inkling of what the other thing might be, the same gossipers who had told me about the money had also another tidbit of information.

I couldn't stop my self from asking the question. The idea that the size of a mans penis was so important seemed strange, however it was a bit titillating to actually asked the man.

"What is that?"

Laughing he looked directly into my eyes, his gaze was unbreakable, and I saw a twinkle in his blue eyes, a mischievous twinkle.

"The size of my Johnson," he replied.

This was not what I had thought the answer was going to be. My look of confusion must have been evident across my face, because he continued.

"My pecker, my willy, my dick," and with the final word I understood, "my cock."

No one had to tell me that my face was a bright red. I had never heard him use those terms before, honestly except for in a few movies that my husband and I had watched, which were definitely on the R rated side, I had not heard such language, still the feeling of titillation remained.

Seeing he had me in a position I couldn't escape from he pressed on, placing his arm around my shoulder. He had a mean streak which was only evident on rare occasions. He obviously knew my husband, they had grown up together, and he had to know that my husband's penis was not very large.

"What is the largest cock," he said the last word in a strange voice, "that you have ever encountered."

I was speechless at this question, and my uncomfortableness seemed to egg him on.

"Was it Bob's," he asked naming my husband. I couldn't answer, he had me. I heard my husband returning from the kitchen. As he entered the den, Joe asked a final question, which seemed to be most ill timed, as he surely had to here Bob's footsteps on the wooden hallway floor.

"Really? You were a virgin on your wedding night?"

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Joes question was so inappropriate. It took my by surprise and it was even more disturbing that he had asked right when my husband entered the room. I looked at Bob for something, anything, but he appeared to not have heard the comment. Instead he handed me a glass of wine, my third, and handed Joe a second beer.

I couldn't answer the question, I had no idea how to give an answer that wouldn't start a confrontation between Joe and Bob. I knew Bob was not the jealous type, but that he could become nasty if the right kind of situation presented itself. This could turn into that situation.

Joes arm had slid from the top of the loveseat. It now rested on my shoulder, his thumb absently rubbing my arm. As he touched me I thought about the things I had heard. My girlfriend Michelle swore that the size of the penis was proportional to the amount of pleasure a woman could achieve. When she started with stories about her sexual conquests I couldn't help but listen.

"Mary, could you please turn up the volume" Joe asked me.

I saw the remote on the table to his right. I would have to lean across him to get to it. I looked at Bob, but he seemed fixated on the game. Trying to avoid contact with Joe, I reached across his lap to get the remote for the television.

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I had made it all the way across the loveseat, with Joes hands not touching me. As I picked up the remote, I felt something brush across my breasts. Looking down I saw Joe sitting up a bit, his groin touching me on the breast. He barely grazed the ends of them, my bra pulling the bulk of my boobs against my cheast.

What was he doing. First he had set me up at the door, and now here on the couch in front of my husband. I grabbed the remote, and set up in the chair, my eyes riveted on Bob. He hadn't seen a thing. NO matter what I would tell him, Joe was in the right.

I leaned away from Joe, realizing that his touch, no matter how minute had made an impression on me. My shirt and bra began to form the shape of my nipples. Embarrased I crossed my arms in front of my shirrt and began to watch the game.

Somewhere in the back of my mind came Michelles voice. "The bigger the penis the better the sex." I couldn't sit much longer, I excused myself to use the restroom.

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As I left the room, Joe said, "Sure, and while you're at it, how 'bout you get us all another drink?"

I had had no intention of returning to the den, but I knew that Bob would be disappointed in me if I left our guest waiting. But he had been so crude, I couldn't believe it, he was much more boorish this night for some reason. Yet, it had seemed that he was flirting with me.

As I left the room, he added "You know, the work day's over, the weekend's here. Why don't you make yourself a little more comfortable. You know, throw on some pajamas, or shorts and a T-shirt. Lose the bra, whatever."

I stormed out, my cheeks blazing red. I actually did need to pee, so I headed there. While, I sat on the commode, it suddenly hit me. I thought to myself "Why did Bob, not jump in while Joe was being an asshole." Surely he wasn't condoning Joes behavior. I was pretty sure Bob was happy with our sex life, we had sex weekly, but lately he had seemed to be a bit withdrawn about. Maybe he had confided something to Joe about our lovemaking. I tried to keep our bedroom life out of conversations with my girlfriends, but I knew that men liked to talk about it.

I decided that two could play at that game, if Bob was interested in watching Joe fondle me, I would have to try my best to get Joe out of the house and Bob into bed. After flushing the commode, I went to the bedroom. Most of my nightgowns were simple affairs, knee length large t-shirts, things like that. Bob never bought me anything any sexier, but I knew he liked looking at me in whatever I wore. I found a knee length cotton nightly and knew this would do the trick.

I double checked to make sure that my nipples were not visible under the nightgown. I slipped into the hall and by the door to the den. Reaching the kitchen, I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and reentered the den.

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I realized how wrong I was as soon as I entered the room. I stood there in my cotton nightie in front of Joe and my husband. I could feel my face flush, I hadn't even so much worn a bikini in front of another man, yet here I was standing in the den in my sleepwear. I wanted to run back to my bedroom and hide, but I saw Bob look at me.

I was unable to read the look on his face. Was he excited to see me in my nightie or was he mad because Joe could see me as well. I had been at a loss as to his attitude the whole night, and obviously couldn't figure out the situation.

He still hadn't moved, and the only available seat was the one I had occupied earlier. I handed Bob his beer and crossed in front of him to sit on the edge of the loveseat where I handed Joe his beer.

His response was "Hot Damn, Mary. Only you could make an oversized t-shirt look sexier than something from Victoria's Secret. And you set those big titties free. You know, you fill a t-shirt better than anyone I've ever seen, girl."

I had thought my face was red before, but when he said that I felt like I was on fire. I couldn't believe that he was saying that in front of my husband. I shot a questioning look to Bob, but he still looked like he hadn't heard a word.

Worse yet, for some reason Joes compliment, if it could be called one, seemed to make my body change. I felt my stomach flip flop and my nipples began to get hard. I looked down and they were visible through my nightie.

Joe must have seen them too, because he was quick to comment, "Look at those nipples, they are like little erasers poking through that cotton."

Then he took me totally by surprise when, before I could cover my breasts with my hands, he reached over and pinched the nipple on my left breast. It wasn't the pain that made me jump, but the surprise that he could actually do such a thing. I heard myself yell out, "Joe!" but my eyes were still on my husband, sitting in that chair, not making a move.

He hadn't removed his hand, and he was rolling my nipple through the nightgown. It hurt a bit, but the other effect it had on me was startling to say the least. I felt myself actually enjoying him touching my nipple. He continued to pinch and twist it lightly and I couldn't help myself, it felt so good.

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Joe had starting on my second nipple, but I had hardly noticed. I was starring at my husband, in what I'm sure was shock. I couldn't believe what he had said. "They're bigger and prettier than any eraser I ever saw." He seemed to be titillated by this brute fondling my breasts. I felt so humiliated, I could feel tears starting to slide down my cheeks.

Joe tweaked both of my nipples kind of hard and it brought me back into the reality of the situation. The simultaneous pinches sent a shiver down my spine, and I realized it wasn't of pain, but desire. I had always liked it when Bob played with my nipples, but I had been too afraid of what he would say if I told him to do so. Right now they ached so bad, and Joe's fingers seemed to make them feel so good. But, I knew what was happening was wrong, Joe was not my husband, he was sitting in the chair opposite of us, watching it happen.

I had to get out of there, I tried to stand up, but when I pulled away, the fingers on my nipples were ripped away, now that kind of hurt. I didn't know what to do. Obviously Bob wasn't going to stop Joe. I knew I looked like a mess, standing in front of the television.

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"That's enough, Joe. You've hurt her, get the fuck out of my house."

Everything seemed to stop in the room, I hadn't heard Bob use that kind of language except once or twice over our whole marriage. I was mortified, and all of a sudden worried that this could affect Joe and Bobs life long friendship. How did I get in the middle of this?

I couldn't let this come between these men. I knew that Joe was the way he was, yet I had provoked him, what was I thinking wearing that nightie in here. I wasn't sure how I was going to fix this, but I had too.

Joe had jumped up from the loveseat, and was about to start protesting. I saw my chance. Starring into bobs eyes I said "Bob, he didn't hurt me. Its just Joe and ... well he was just playing around. You know like he does."

As I continued to look into my husbands eyes, I realized, that this was so different. I was getting turned on by this drama, by Joes touch, by the whole situation. I remembered Michelle saying "The bigger the penis the better the sex." Only she hadn't used the word penis, she had said cock. I also thought of Joe, sitting by me on the loveseat telling me why women loved him "The size of my Johnson, my pecker, my willy, my dick," and finally that naughty titillating word "my cock"

For some reason, I felt I couldn't let Joe leave. I could feel a warmth down between my legs as I put the two conversations together. I continued to stare into my husbands eyes and said.

"Please"

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I looked pleadingly into my husbands eyes. I hoped that he didn't realize why I was pleading to have Joe stay. I saw his compassion and kindness, the reasons I had married him, and I knew that regardless of if I was right, wrong or somewhere in between Joe was going to be allowed to stay.

“Fine, Mary. Why don’t you get us all another drink." At these words I thought I had diffused the situation. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do, standing in the den in my nightie, but at least these two men were not going to come to blows over me. I smiled sweetly at my husband and crossed my arms, already heading out of the den to get two more beers. I would have to stop and find a housecoat before I came back in, but at least Bob and Joe were amicable.

As I left the room to get the beers, my husband completed his sentence, which was left hanging. Then we’ll all watch the end of the ballgame while Joe fondles your tits.”


I thought I had heard him wrong. I couldn't take another step out of the room. Slowly I turned back and looked at him. Bobs face was totally deadpanned. Maybe I had imagined it, again the language my husband had used was not appropriate.

At the same time I heard Joes line over again in my mind. "The size of my Johnson, my pecker, my willy, my dick," and I felt my own confusion. I looked back down the hallway to the kitchen and fetched two more beers from the refrigerator.

As I returned I heard Joes big laugh from inside the den, but I didn't hear anything from Bob. I handed Bob his beer and then I again took my place next to Joe, hoping that this was all just a bad dream.

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As soon as I took my seat Joes large hands were back on my breasts. I glanced at my husband, but he was watching impassively. The closer I watched, the more I became convinced it was. Bob isn't as outwardly noticeable when he get stimulated, but I had spent enough time with him to realize when he was becoming aroused. First off, you could see his neck start to get red, not the whole thing but a flush under his chin.

As Joe pinched and rolled my nipples, I could swear that I saw this flush start to appear. Was this what Bob wanted. I knew he often wanted more than I was willing to give him, but I had never imagined that he would want to watch me with another man.

Michelle entered my mind, her shrill voice echoing "The bigger the cock the better the sex." I felt dirty even thinking the word, but I also decided that if this was what my man, my husband Bob wanted, I would do my best to satisfy him. I also knew that I would pay for it later.

Joe, who luckily couldn't hear my thoughts, because when he pinched my nipple again, I noticed a large bulge in his pants. Again, all the dirty words for penis flooded my mind, and somewhere I heard myself let out a moan.

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"You like that, Mary? You like the way I fondle your titties while your hubby watches? You like showing off, Mary? Why don't you take that top off and you can show off those titties like you really want to, and I can do a better job of fondling them."

Joe had moved one of his hands under my shirt. He drug it slowly across my belly and up, cupping my breast and letting his fingers splay around my nipple. I continued to look only at Bob, his expression almost blank except for a little tic in his left eye. I felt so dirty, letting Joe continue to paw me but I also needed to let Bob watch. The hand under my shirt released me, and brought the front of the shirt up over my breasts, exposing my breasts to my husband.

I couldn't move, Bob continued to watch, but Joe had taken a nipple in each finger and were slowly twisting them, rolling them and tugging on them. The sensation was extremely pleasurable and once again I let out a sigh of pleasure. I couldn't take my eyes off of Bob, the expressionless face and the eyes riveted on mine as his best friend stimulated me. Once, he shifted, almost like he was trying to adjust himself. I knew that I would do what he wanted, I owed him that.

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