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My name is Bob Green. I love my wife Debbie with all of my heart, and no matter what our friends says, she does not screw around. She is one of those women who just seem to get more beautiful as she aged and developed laugh lines. Most people wonder how I could keep her as we seem so different. Her beautiful and outgoing, me rather plain and quiet. She is a registered massage therapist and maintains a massage room in our home. I’m not allowed in there, client confidentiality and legalities, you know. She also has a folding portable massage table with handles that she takes out to client locations, such as their homes or offices. Sometimes they even rent a room at one of the many by the hour motels if that is what is convenient. She keeps odd hours sometimes, as she feels it’s an advantage to be flexible in respect to her client’s availability. Sometimes she has early morning bookings, lunch usually, and sometimes even into the evenings. I’m an accountant, which most people find boring. I work in a nearby business district, 8-4. We live alone, as our only son is away at university.

To accommodate her schedule, I make dinner late, and she tries to make it as often as possible, even if she has to go back out later. This hectic schedule means I do most of the housework, shopping, laundry, and yard work. It’s a big help to her, and she says she doesn’t know what she would do without me, which makes me feel special. I was just finishing making Chicken Cacciatore for dinner when she walked in.

“Sweetie pie,” she called. “I’m home.”

I ran to greet her, to take her bags, and to get a hug. Then I saw the envelope under her arm.

“You got another one, no postmark again,” she stated.

Odd, I had just checked the mailbox ten minutes ago hoping to spare her this. I threw it down on the coffee table and told her dinner was ready so we should eat first. She told me all about her day. I don’t share much because accounting is not very interesting to others. A dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher, then fixed her a drink and joined her in the living room.

“Go ahead and open it dear, let’s get it over with.”

“Oh alright,” I said, as though there was a chance I wouldn’t have listened to her. The address was typewritten, to me, and contained several 8×10 photographs.

“More of the same,” I declared. “Nasty photos of that same slut taking cocks in every hole. Why send these to me?”

As was our custom, I looked at each one and then handed each to Debbie to scrutinize. The first was simply the slut on her knees, sucking a rather large cock, taken from about 10 feet away and over her left shoulder. The man’s head was cut off.

“The woman has the same shape of Celtic tattoo on her lower back as you do,” I said. We had discussed this point before, with other envelopes of pictures. It was wide across her lower back but pointing down toward her ass crack.

“They are so common for the location due to the shape,” she offered, not for the first time.

In the second photo the slut had straddled the guy’s lap and his cock was visibly entering her. Taken from behind, his face was hidden by hers as they kissed.

“She has your hair,” I declared as I handed the photo to her.

“You think so?” she queried. Truth is it was hard to say unless they were recently taken, since Debbie seems to change her hair style and colors weekly.

In the third photo, from the same angle, she was holding his cock and apparently trying to work it into her asshole.

“What a slut!” I said disparagingly. In the last photo the guy knelt over the woman and was shooting his cum all over her face and tits. Beautiful C cups, like Debbie’s, although obviously not as pert as my darling’s. In the lower portion of the photo, a red rose tattoo graced her lower belly, just above her pussy on her right side, where my wife has the exact same tattoo in the same place. I handed it to her, commenting on what a coincidence it was to have two tattoos in the same place as hers.

“Well, I suppose darling, but again a rose is so common. I mean what else does a woman put above her pussy, and it would likely be on one side or the other.”

“You’re right my dear, of course, I’m just saying it’s such a coincidence. Want another drink?”

“Yes please. Then you can rub my feet.”

When she raised her skirt to allow me to remove her pantyhose, I noticed she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“I thought I saw you pull panties on when you got dressed this morning, dear.”

“Oh I had a little accident, trying to hold my pee until after an appointment,” she explained. They’re in my purse.”

“Oh, good, at least you didn’t have to throw them away again. That gets expensive.”

“Yes, but then we get to go shopping and have you pick me out new ones to wear, and I know how much you love that.”

It was true; she was doing me a favor I guess. She opened her purse and held out a pair of red panties.

“Make sure you hand wash them darling.”

“Well of course dear,” I said in a tone like I was insulted I’d need to be told. I mean, really. I examined the red panties as I held them, and as usual they were white and crusty in the crotch. Debbie always seemed to ooze pussy juices. I couldn’t resist putting them to my nose and inhaling deeply. There were stains, but it didn’t smell like pee.

“Now, now,” she said. “You can have your fun sniffing my panties later.

I blushed, feeling embarrassed that she knew me so well.

I rubbed lotion into her feet, and began telling her about a visit we received last evening while she was out. Richard Tallet, one of our long time friends dropped by to see me. He said he was sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but he felt it his duty to tell me.

“My goodness, tell you what?” exclaimed Debbie.

“Well, to put it bluntly, that you were fucking around behind my back.”

“The nerve,” she hissed. “Richard is such a dick. And what proof did he offer with such scandalous accusations?”

“None really. Blurry pictures on his cell phone at various parties. There was a series from the Brocks’ Christmas party with some people I recognized all over some tramp in a short little Santa dress and hat. Remember that outfit you wore?”

“Yes, me and half the women there.”

“Right,” I said. “Well he showed me pictures of her over someone’s lap getting her bare ass spanked, her partners cupping her ass while slow dancing, sitting on someone’s lap with his hand between her thighs, even one where she was going down on a guy in a Santa suit.”

“White or Black?”

“Red.”

“Not the suit, the cock.”

“Oh. White.”

“Was it a nice one?”

“What?”

“Santa’s cock. Was it nice? Big?”

“I didn’t really pay that much attention honey, but I think it was rather thick.”

“Mmmmmm,” she crooned.

“Anyway, the idiot claimed the tawdry tart was you! He mentioned how I nearly always come home by myself before midnight to get a good night’s sleep and he claimed that’s when you really let loose, drinking shooters and partying like a college girl on Spring break. I told him I couldn’t tell from the quality of the pictures who it was, and he got upset that I wasn’t seeing what he saw. ‘Right there man’ he would say – ‘that’s your wife’ – but by this point I was telling him I wouldn’t hear any more of it.”

“Good for you,” Debbie clapped.

Encouraged by her support, I added “And then I told him point blank that if he valued our friendship, he would not say anything further against my wife, as I wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Bravo,” she said. “Would my hero like to get me another drink?”

I practically strutted with pride as I walked to the kitchen and back.

“Am I too small?” I asked, knowing the answer. “The guys at the gym seem so much bigger.”

“Dear, we’ve been over this. You know I can barely feel you inside me, even in my ass, but you make up for it in other ways. You have a very talented tongue and most of all you always want to please me.”

“I know it helps you sleep if you get off,” I acknowledged. What I was really thinking, though, was maybe she’d feel me if her dildos weren’t so huge.

“Should we throw these out now?” she asked, waving the pictures.

“No,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. “I’ll do it later.”

“Don’t you enough of these darling?” she smiled mischievously. “I know where you keep them. You masturbate looking at that slut, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted.

“Do you think we could have intercourse tonight? It’s been such a long time.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Bob. I let you fuck me a few weeks ago. Besides, you have these new pictures to keep busy for awhile. Now get over here and lick me” she cooed as she raised her skirt.

I smiled and approached her. Kneeling, I began by licking her pussy all over, sucking on the lips, coating all of her with my saliva. I flicked her large clit a few times, and then went lower to lick her asshole.

“Oh yes you naughty boy,” she said as she pulled her knees toward her. “You really know how to please me.”

I fucked her hole with my tongue as she moaned. I find it strange how some days it’s so tight I have to work to get my tongue inside, while other times like today it is red and very loose. I think it must be a case of how relaxed or tense she feels. Well she was certainly relaxed today. Working on her clit again, I pushed two fingers into her bum. As usual she held the back of my head and screamed out loud as she came on my face. Debbie actually discharged thick white stuff when she came hard. I lapped it up and cleaned her as best I could.

“Oh thank you baby,” she cooed. “You want to come on my big fat ass now?”

Her ass wasn’t fat; she just liked to say things like that. She was built perfectly, which I suppose is why so many men flirt with her.

She rolled onto her stomach and I got between her legs looking intently at her slit and asshole as I jerked off. I leaned forward and rubbed my dick in her crack.

“Can I put it in tonight honey?” I begged.

“Oh alright, since it’s been so long,” she mumbled.

Oh, the excitement. I pushed my dick into her sweet asshole with no resistance. It was looser than I remember, but I still came in just a few strokes. I kept pumping for a while anyway, really enjoying my position atop her. She seemed bored with it though, yawning.

The next morning I was getting ready for work when Debbie told me over breakfast that she had booked a couple of regular clients to come to her home office this morning, the first man at 8 a.m. She saw me out at 7:50 and was wearing a sexy white lace bra and panty set over a white garter belt holding up white stockings.

“Honey, don’t you think you had better hurry and get dressed?”

She pulled a white smock over her head. It barely covered her ass, and I could easily make out the lace bra, panties, and garters underneath, and the stockings tops weren’t even covered.

“Why do you need to wear such sexy underwear under it?”

“It makes me feel sexy, dear, and besides I am in my own home.”

“Aren’t you going to wear the matching pants?”

“Oh, no, they’ve gotten too small for me.”

“Well please be careful bending over. I gotta run now.”

I called her later that morning, when I knew her second appointment would be over.

“Um, ummm, hello.”

“Darling?” It’s Bob.

“I know. Caller ID. Ummm, slurp.”

“What’s that noise?”

“Wha.. um, what noise? Sluurrrrp.”

“That sound. Are you eating?”

“Oh, ummm, uh-huh, slop, slurp. I’m eating a popsicle darling.” She laughed. “Uh, slurp, you know how I love popsicles… slurp.”

“Yes okay. I was just wondering if you’d be staying home and having dinner?”

“I’m…slurp… hang on a sec… ummmmmm, yeah, umm. slurp, slurp, umm, smack.”

“Sorry dear. What did you say? Oh yes, I’ll have to go to the office this afternoon and then I should be free.”

“Okay great. See you later then.”

That afternoon, my nearly ex-friend Richard came back, not long after I got home from work with a big box of popsicles.

“Hello Richard,” I said. “Come to apologize.”

“No, I’ve come to try one last time to try and talk some sense into you.”

“You’re not welcome,” I said.

“I’ve brought a short video I had put onto a disk, from last Halloween. You remember the party at Harold and Pam’s? Watch the video with me and if you still aren’t convinced I won’t bother trying again. Deal?”

“I really shouldn’t even bother,” I sighed, but allowed him in.

“Okay, there are several short vids. Most are general party shots of people enjoying themselves, and of course Harold wanted to capture all of the wild and sexy costumes. He took some of these, and other guys borrowed the camera throughout the evening. I started this disk with the Devil’s entrance.”

I watched the scene of Debbie entrance through the front door. I smiled as I saw her ‘Little Devil’ costume. She made it herself! The base was a sinfully short red dress in a tight plastic material that barely covered her ass. Red plastic horns were on her head sticking out through holes in a cowl she had sewn onto the dress. She had a red tail sticking out from underneath somehow at a 45 degree angle, tenting the dress up in the rear. It was straight and somewhat rigid even though it felt like rubber. It fit the hand as though it were really a handle for something, although it was red and the tip was a devil’s triangular point. The tail made it challenging for her to sit, but she managed to get into the car and rest on one hip.

She had also modified the dress front with flaps over her breasts attached at the top by velcro. I didn’t understand why she did that but she said she originally made the dress too tight so she had to cut out the breasts, and then sew the flaps on. She had made the flaps long enough for the velcro to attach at the top but made a mistake by not taking into account the fullness of her breasts. The end result had each breast straining out through the slits on either side of the flaps. Red hose with all four garter straps on display showed off her legs and she wore outrageous 5″ red heels, which made her taller than I was and made me feel even less equal than usual. Her and the other girls in our circle of friends loved costumes and any excuse to dress up, often somewhat sexy, and Debbie liked to outdo them.

We watched as Debbie was greeted by everyone and could hear many lewd suggestive comments, but they were in keeping with her outfit I reasoned. The women kissed her cheek with ‘well look at you’ and ‘lovely darling’ type of comments. The men squeezed her to them, some kissing her on the lips, others patting her rear, and saying things like ‘appropriate costume you little devil’ and ‘I think you should keep the horns’. A couple of guys grabbed her by the tail, which made her gasp and moan, which seemed odd. I trailed in an angel costume she made me, although nobody seemed to notice until she introduced me as ‘her little angel’. It was basically a white gown with the requisite halo raised above my head, and I don’t know why but she insisted I wear one of her little white thongs underneath. She said it would be sexy for her to look at me at the party and be the only one who knew what I was wearing under the gown. I was worried that some of the guys would realize my outfit was really one of her nightgowns because it was backless and the front panels tied behind my neck. It was also so thin the thong was visible. She assured me she could barely see the thong, and only because she knew it was there and we were in the light, but it would be darker at the party. And no one would know I was wearing a nightie since she cut the little embroidered flowers off the bodice, even if it did have a long slit going up one side nearly to the hip. She said everyone knows that Angels are asexual anyway, so it will be in character for me to look a little feminine.

I usually find these parties boring, although the silly costumes added interest to the evening. I saw a few other attempts at red devils, but none as impressive as my wife’s outfit. I couldn’t even tell who half the people were, and it was so crowded I lost track of Debbie many times. Sometimes I’d go and get her a drink as requested, but then couldn’t find her when I came back. Often she’d be off dancing so I would check there first. She loved to dance, and since I had two left feet, I had to accept that she would dance with anyone who asked. It was really a pleasure to see her enjoy herself, although sometimes I wished her dancing wasn’t always so physical, what with the grinding and what not. Other times I’d find her chatting with a girlfriend or sitting on some guys lap and chatting. Tonight the guys seemed most fascinated with her tail. They were constantly grabbing it. I was worried they might break it off. A couple of times when I hadn’t seen her in a while I saw her come down from upstairs, saying she was showing whatever guy she was with the rest of the house, which I thought the owner of the house should do. She said the hostess was too busy catering to everyone’s needs so she was just trying to help out. She was thoughtful like that.

I saw her whispering with her friend Amanda who was wearing a maid outfit. Debbie pointed to me and they both laughed. Before I could ask about the joke, Amanda grabbed my hand and said she wanted this dance.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” I protested.

“It’s a slow one and I’ll lead,” she said, dragging me into the dance floor.

She wrapped my arms up high around her neck, placed hers around my waist, and smiled.

“I like your nightie.”

“Gown. Debbie put the costume together for me.”

“I know,” she said.

She lowered a hand to my butt and was tracing the seem of the thong so I pulled back.

“Oh, sexy,” she cooed.

She turned me around, facing away from her, and pulled me closer again.

One hand was on my chest and she worked the other my bare hip through the slit.

She was doing that grinding move I had seen others do, practically humping me.

I was embarrassed and then even more so as I got hard.

“Push your ass back to the beat,” she ordered, as she bent me over a little.

“Really, I don’t think…”

She slipped her hand further inside my gown and rested it right on my little hard cock. I yelped and tried to get away but she pulled me back hard into her, grinding against my backside.

She used her left hand to grab the thong through the gown and give me a wedgie, while the right hand on my panties rubbed up and down, up and down. To my absolute horror I came. She laughed and finally let me go. As I made my way back to Debbie I could see her watching and laughing with a couple of other girls.

It was around midnight, so it was time for me to go anyway, even though the party was more crowded than ever. Debbie usually found a ride home later with another couple or some new guy she met at the party, but on weekends she often crashed wherever she was with the partying crowd, saying nobody was sober enough to drive, which made sense. I’d rather she was safe and not taking dangerous risks.

“See you later then?” I asked on the front porch.

“I may not make it home tonight darling; the party is just getting started.”

“Well, I could stay another hour or two” I offered.

“Don’t be silly love. You need your sleep, and you hate all that drinking and silly behavior. Let me see those panties you’re wearing.”

I blushed.

“Here? Someone might see.”

“Let me see them,” she said, pulling my gown up.

“You came in them. Were you jerking off at a party then?”

“No,” I protested, “Amanda rubbed me on the dance floor. I tried to pull away…”

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