This is a print version of story Fifty Shades of Grey Saved My Marriage - True Stor by blueeyedtoke from

Fifty Shades of Grey Saved My Marriage - True Stor

Most weeks I'm away on business, which leaves my wife home by herself quite a lot. I feel bad about this, so about three weeks ago I decided to buy my wife a gift. Something to keep her company while I was away.

I actually asked a colleague of mine, a co-worker, what I should get my wife. He laughed and said, "Fifty Shades of Grey, man," like I should know what he was talking about.

Mind you, I don't watch the news, watch TV or read the news online. I'm a stock broker and a marathon runner on the side. When I'm not on the phone heating clients up about the latest great deal, I'm trying to beat my best time on the track.

My wife, on the other hand, is left watching our six month old while I'm traveling around the world - Sydney, Ontario, Atlanta, St. Louis, Houston and Washington D.C.

In fact, she's alone so much that I was afraid she was cheating on me. I'm afraid to admit this, but I installed a key logger on her computer. This allowed me to see every key she was pressing.

What did I find out? Only that my wife loves porn. I had no idea my wife even watched porn. Not only is she a porn watcher, but it's the type of porn that shocked me.

Lesbian porn, porn with guys with huge dicks and a lot of them featured women tied up, dominated, whipped, abused.

So when my colleague mentioned 'Fifty Shades of Grey', I didn't really know what me meant.

"Chicks like to be dominated," was his answer. I picked the book up at the bookstore that evening and gave it to her wrapped up in fancy paper. I even cooked for her.

That night resulted in a blowjob and some of the best sex we've had. The thing is, just as I was coming that night, d***k from the wine we've had, naked and on the floor, the empty glasses nearby with the empty bottle and her tiny poodle Harley looking on, she bit me on the shoulder just as I came.

I shouted and came and, I have to tell you, it's the best feeling I've ever felt.

After I came, I tried to catch my breath, wondering what it is she did, not wanting to say anything in case she became offended. She hadn't even read the book yet and yet her she is wanting to hurt me, abuse me, and yet when I looked at her, offended, with my hand over my shoulder where she clamped down, she only laughed and said, "You look cute. I just want to eat you up."

In that moment, trying to get my energy back so we could go again, I knew I'd chosen the right gift. The next morning I left for a trip out of country, to Japan. This was a 14 day trip and one that could have meant a promotion if I played my cards right.

I called my wife every night and each night she'd read pages from the book, recounting scenes of domination, of one person giving themselves to another, sexy stories and ones that would make me cum every time. Just listening to her read that book to me made me cum in that dark lonely hotel room harder than I've ever cum before.

The night I got home, she met me at the airport. She stops her car at the airport and she's wearing a black trench coat and dark sunglasses, her hair done up behind her head.

She barely says two words to me as she helps me load my luggage into my trunk and opens the door for me on the other side so I can get in. She shuts the door and starts the car and so far she hasn't even looked at me or acknowledge that I've returned after a week.

I say, "What the hell? Aren't you going to talk to me?" Or I try.

By the time I say, "What the -" She holds up a hand, looking at me through her dark sunglasses, and she says, "Shut the fuck up until I tell you to talk."

My colleague had filled me in on what this Fifty Shades book might be like, so I knew this was part of her game. Weary and a little d***k from the flight in, I sit back and decide not to talk, as she has ordered me not to.

She drives us into the city, down a few side streets, the whole time listening to the local radio, not speaking, her sunglasses firmly affixed to her head so I can't see her eyes.

She's exiting the freeway, pulling up to a red light. It's at this point that she turns her head to me and, very coldly says, "Touch my pussy."

The light turns green and she drives on as I do her bidding. I lean over and dig my hand into her crotch, the warm v between her legs, so hot and she moans, grabbing my wrist.

"Inside," she says.

She grips my two fingers and puts them on the button keeping her jeans fastened. With the car moving, her looking straight ahead, I undo the button and then the zipper of her jeans.

With her jeans open, I can see her white silky panties underneath. I slip my fingers into the band holding them to her waist and my fingers are grazing her pubic hair.

I try to dig my fingers deeper as I hunt for wetness, but her jeans are too tight. I grip the jean fabric on either side of her waist and try to yank it down. With cars on either side of us, she lifts her ass up off the seat and I slide them halfway down her thighs.

Her pubic hair is dark, black almost, especially compared to the blonde hair on her head, and my fingers find her pussy, so wet and hot.

My index finger slides in easily.

She opens her mouth and moans softly and grips my wrist, pulling my hand free and forcing it into my lap. Even though I could easily overpower her, I let her f***e my wrist into my lap. She's forcing her jeans back up around her waist and securing them, expertly, with one hand. First the zipper and then the button. She turns to me, dark glasses so I can't see her eyes and says, "You have to wait until I tell you you can fuck me, faggot."

My wife has never called me a faggot before, but I have to admit it turned me on. I could only say, "Yes, Angie."

I had been so caught up in my wife's pussy, her rude mouth, so sexy, that I didn't notice her pulling up to a brick building. She turns off the ignition and tells me, "Grab the bag in the back."

I look behind my seat and see a black gym bag. I point.

"Did I stutter?" she asks.

I grab the bag and we get out of her car. We walk around the side of the building and I notice that we're at some downtown hotel, one of those ratty places you might take a prostitute or do a d**g deal.

There are people hanging out on the balcony above us and even more further down on the balcony above that. I'm not racist, but they didn't seem like anyone I'd want to hang out with.

My wife, she produces a key card and lets us inside. The room is old, the carpet orange and ratty, it smells of smoke and the bedspread looks like something that died in the seventies.

"Lay down," she orders me once the door closes. She turns on the A/C and cold air starts to blow in the room. I set the bag down at the foot of the bed and sit on the edge.

My wife, still in her dark sunglasses, still wearing the black trench coat, steps forward and shoves me hard with both hands on my chest, throwing me back onto the old bedspread and the springy mattress.

She lands on top of me, kisses me deep, licking my bottom lip before I can even act and she sits up, straddling me. She opens the trench coat, revealing her naked breasts, her toned stomach, her closely trimmed pussy.

"Lay back and close your eyes," She tells me, her coat still open. I do as she says. I can feel her moving, taking off the coat. With my eyes shut, I hear her toss the coat into the corner.

She leans in and whispers, her hot breath on my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine, she says, "Don't move, you fucking pussy."

I don't move.

She slides off me and onto the floor and I can hear her opening the bag I brought. A loud ziiiip as she opens the bag and now she's clinking glass together, maybe plastic and she's making a positive moaning sound. "You're going to love this," She purrs.

I start to open my eyes and she slaps me. I don't expect it and I hate to be slapped, so I cry out. She clamps her hands, both hands, over my mouth and whispers. Hold it in, baby. It feels amazing.

With my cheeks stinging, I hold it in like she asks and in the back of my mind I'm wondering how she knows it feel so amazing. From the book? Is she cheating on me?

She orders me onto my back. I decide to follow and she's straddling me, her knees on either side of my hips. She starts taking off my jacket, undoing my shirt and taking it off me. Now she's got my belt off, my zipper, my pants around my thighs, my knees and now I'm naked except for my shoes and socks.

She's off the bed now and now my shoes, then socks are pulled off me. I'm completely naked.

WHAP! She whips my ass with something solid and flat and before I can yell out, which is exactly what I do, she pushes my head into the bedspread.

I actually yelled out, "What the fuck are you doing?" and the words became completely muffled in the orange seventies style bedspread. She's now straddling me and with her front pressed to my back, I can feel her soft tits, her firm body against me.

She whispers in my ear, "Turn over, slave."

I do as she asks and she's got her hands over my eyes. I keep them closed, as I know that's what she wants me to do and she's now beside me on the bed. I can feel her knees pressing against me. She's sitting on the bed and it sounds like she's squeezing some kind of gel out of a bottle.

She grabs my penis and it's cold. I jerk, part from surprise and part from the chill and she pushes my face down so that the back of my head pushes down into the mattress and then she straddles my face.

I can smell her pussy through her panties and I can feel my inner thighs tingle, my cock start to stir.

The gel feels good now as she's smoothing it around my head, my shaft, trying to smooth all the areas, using both hands and stroking at every interval.

My cock is getting harder. Her pussy feels most even though the panties, her musk is filling my nose and my is growing rock hard with her stroking it, revolving her hand around the head and stimulating me in ways I've never been stimulated before.

Where did she learn all of this?

Her pussy pulls away from my face just as I feel like I can't breathe and she spins around so that she's mounting me with her face in mine. She says, "You're going to do as I say or else you're never getting any of this pussy. Do you hear me?"

I nod, nearly out of breath. Two weeks on the road and with my dick hard, my wife's pussy juice still in my nostrils, I want nothing more than to fuck her right there and then.

"I've been practicing," She says and holds up two silver balls, revolving around in the palm of her hand. They jingle with each revolution.

"Benwa balls," she says. "They make me extra tight."

Just then, as if she's planned and practiced this for weeks, she finds and slides her pussy onto my cock. I suck in my breath, her warm pussy is so wet, so tight and she smiles and kisses me briefly on the lips.

"Are you ready?" she asks me.

Holding my breath, trying not to cum, I nod quickly, hoping she'll change positions so I don't blow my load.

She squeezes down and I swear to god it's like someone put their hand down there and squeezed it. It was so strong, so tight.

She smiles, apparently at the shock on my face, and begins to slide up and down on my cock, kissing me, only giving me the tip of tongue and pulling away when I try to get more.

She's sliding up and down on my cock and I've never felt her so tight. That's when I feel the pressure, the feeling that I'm gonna cum. I warn her. I can feel my eyebrows go up, my mouth open and I yell, "I'm gonna cum!" and I know it's going to be one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

My wife, she smiles and says, "No you're not," and squeezes down on my cock. I feel her clamp down, like a vice, and suddenly the feeling subsides. I'm panting, kind of sore, my body shocked that I didn't actually spurt my load and she pulls off of me.

I put my hands on her hips, trying to push her down so I can fuck her, so I can finish, so I can cum inside her like I'm dying to do and she's got something in her hands, forcing something onto one of my wrists.

It's a handcuff. She's got one around my wrist, secured. Out of breath, wanting to cum, I decide it's easier to let her half her way so I give her my other wrist when she asks for it without so much as a movement of her hand.

With both of my wrists secured to the headboard with these handcuffs - my first time, by the way - she smiles, trails her hands down my chest and keeps my gaze as she licks the head of my cock.

Her eyes close, seemingly in Ecstasy, as she takes my cock in her mouth, licking me with me still in her mouth somehow on the way up.

She's working my shaft, sucking me, trying to make me cum and I can only lay back with my arms over my head, my wrists hurting from these handcuffs, my toes curling from the moistness, the warmth, her hand is on my balls. I'm about to cum.

I tell her so, "I'm cumming," I say and she holds my cock hard with both hands, around the shaft. I hurts and I tell her as much, but she only laughs.

"Now you know how I feel," she says. "I cum first."

My penis jerks once, twice, but no cum comes out. She's effectively stifled two of my orgasms. Now she's straddling my chest and she has something in her hand. She shifts it on and it's then that I realize it's a vibrator.

She's got her legs around both of my arms so I can't move, her pussy in my face and her vibrator working her clit. Her head is rocked back, her hair pulled behind her head and she tells me to tell her she's the master.

"You're the master," I say.

The vibrator buzzing between her fingers, against her clit, her naked body sitting on top of me, her naked breasts heaving, her head rocked back, eyes closed, she says, "Louder, faggot."

"You're the master," I say louder and she moans and ajusts the vibrator so it sits better on her clit.

I try to move my right arm to work her pussy, to help her and she clamps her knees on either sides of my arms. "Did I tell you you could move, motherfucker?"

"No, master," I say.

"Attaboy," she says and the vibrator is once more working her clit, her head rocked back, moaning.

The vibrator buzzing, she reaches back and grabs the head of my cock. She grips the shaft and starts rocking back and forth, stroking my cock in tandem.

"Yes," I say.

"Shut the fuck up," she screams in my face. It's so loud, I wonder if the neighbors can hear.

She moans loudly and tells me she's about to cum. "Tell me you want to fuck me," she says.

"I want to fuck you," I tell her.

She clamps her knees around my arms harder and grips my penis with the hand that's not working the vibrator. "You call me mistress, you faggot."

"Yes, mistress," I answer.

The gel she put on my cock tingles and her mere hand movements has me close. With the buzzing vibrator in my face, my orgasm imminent, she says, "Tell me you're my faggot."

"I'm your faggot," I say and I can't help it. I cum and, beyond the buzzing, she screams out, jerking on top of me.

I can feel my hot cum dripping on my stomach, I suppose from somewhere on her back, and she collapses on top of me.

She kisses me deep, slides her pussy onto my cock and starts riding me, even though I've already cum and my cock has already started to deflate.

"Now you sit there like a good boy and get ready. I'm not done with you."

She gets off me and does a little dance as she steps to the mirror in front of that sink they always have in hotels and then she retreats into the shower.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when I fell in love with my wife all over again.

She bought this, by the way

This really happened. This is not fiction. I have more stories to cum.

Story URL: