She smiled as she stood at the kitchen counter, prepping dinner. She took great pride in having dinner in the oven, lipstick in place, and a glass of whiskey in hand when he walked through the door each evening. Balancing her own career with her family’s needs was a challenge, but she had always loved a challenge. That’s why she loved him; he challenged her more than anyone she had met.
Music blared from her phone. She couldn’t help but sing along and sway her hips in time as she finished the last of the prep. She glanced at her watch. She had half an hour before he got home; enough time to finish the homemade pizza crust and put it in the oven. She turned out the sticky dough onto the floured counter and started to knead. She found the rhythm of pushing and rolling the dough around meditative and didn’t mind that it stuck to her hands and covered her apron in flour. She imagined how happy he would be with her dinner; she was sure to get a “good girl” and pat on the head.
Out of the blue, she felt a pair of hands around her waist. She cried out and jumped at the touch. Turning her head, her hands still covered in flour and dough, she saw her husband grinning at her. He leaned his chin on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tight. “You’re home early! Dinner’s not ready. I’m not ready. I don’t even have your glass fixed!” Even as she melted under his touch, she was a little frustrated at her plan being disrupted. She did not like when things did not go the way she planned them.
“I missed my beautiful wife.” He kissed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you and the filthy things I wanted to do to you. I left a little early. What’s the point of being the boss if I can’t leave early when I want to?” She felt herself grow warm as he nuzzled her neck. “Luckily, you had your music turned up and you didn’t hear me come in. I do love being able to sneak up on you like this. I love watching you in your element.” He pressed his body against hers and she could feel his hard bulge pressing up against her ass. He ran his hands up her torso and grabbed her breasts through her dress, weighing them in his hands. He began to squeeze them and pushed his groin into her ass more firmly, pushing her stomach into the edge of the counter. A soft moan escaped her lips and she could feel that familiar ache in her pelvis. “I want you,” he rumbled.
“I want you, too, Daddy. Let me just clean my hands off and –” He cut her off.
“No princess. I want you now. Here.”
“But my hands –”
His fingers dug into her breasts. “What part of here and now do you not understand? I don’t care if your hands are messy. You won’t need them anyway. So, stop being contrary, be a good wifey, and let Daddy take what he wants. If you argue again, I’m going to gag you with the tea towel.”
Suitably warned, she nodded her head. She was thankful for his strong arms around her waist; her legs always got a little shaky when he talked to her this way. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”
His grasp on her breasts relaxed a little. His voice softened slightly as she felt his warm breath on her ear. “I know you that you like to plan everything to a T, my dear. I know that you like to be in control at work and with your household tasks. I appreciate everything you do for me.” He paused and his tone became a little sterner. “But always remember, I’m in charge here at home. I lead, you follow. And if I want to take my wife in our kitchen, I will damn well take my wife in our kitchen. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said obediently as a smile spread across her face. She loved this. She loved being put in her place, being reminded of who really was in charge at home. She loved hearing that he desired her enough to disturb his concentration at work. She loved being able to shut off the part of her that loved being in control and instead follow the lead of the man she loved and trusted.
“Good girl.” He took his hands off her and stepped back. He stopped the music, so the only sounds she could hear were her shallow, rapid breaths and the sound of his clothes rustling as he moved back behind her. “Let’s see, my pet. What underwear are you wearing today?” She felt a cool breeze on her thighs and ass, as he lifted her dress up above her waist.
“They’re the ones you picked out, Daddy. Do you like them?” She blushed as she felt him starting at her.
He growled. “I liked them when you put them on this morning and I still like them now. They make your ass – my ass – look so good.” He grabbed a handful of her ass in each hand. She squealed from the feeling of his nails digging in. He jiggled the cheek in his firm grip. “Mine.”
“Bend over more, girl and push your ass out. Brace yourself. I’ve been thinking all day about how nice your pretty ass would look if it were all pink.” She stuck her butt out as ordered, hands still gripping the dough she had been kneading, back arched. She sensed him move away. He hadn’t told her that she couldn’t turn her head, so she peered over her shoulder to see where he had gone. He was digging through one of the kitchen drawers, eventually finding whatever he had been looking for.
She saw the broad grin on his face first, and then the wooden spoon in his hand. He waved it gleefully as he walked back to her, managing to look proud and stern at the same time. “See, my love? You may do the cooking, but I DO know my way around the kitchen. Look what I found. Much better than my hand, I think.” He had never used a wooden spoon on her before. His hand, sure, and occasionally a belt or a paddle, but never a kitchen implement. She swallowed hard, anxious about how it would feel when it landed on her soft ass. “I’ve been looking forward to this. Thinking about how you’d jump”
He didn’t finish the sentence before he hit her with the spoon. She did indeed jump, just has he had predicted. She wasn’t sure if it was from the sting or the surprise of the smack. The spoon landed on her other check. She yelled out, unable to help herself. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Daddy; I didn’t mean to shout.”
“Oh, my girl, I want to you yell. I want you to be loud. I want you to be my little whore tonight. I want you to remember how I spanked you, bent over the counter, every time you cook dinner. Feeling yourself tingle, and blush, and get wet as you replay tonight in your head. Every time you use this spoon, I want you to remember.” He hit her again. She moaned, both out of pain and pleasure. “Do you like this, pet?.” He smacked her with each word, alternating cheeks. His last blow made her yell loudly.
She was becoming overwhelmed by both the physical sensations and the emotions she was experiencing. She could feel that her ass was getting warm from the strikes of the spoon. She knew her face was red as well; she felt helpless bent over in the kitchen like that, dress pulled up, hands on the counter, forbidden to move. She was no longer in control – not of the situation, not of her emotions, not of pussy that was so wet her thighs were sticking together. She struggled to form a coherent thought; she wanted to sink into the experience and focus on the sensations flooding her body. However, she knew how displeased he would be if he had to ask again. She did not want to risk that.
He continued to beat a rhythm on her ass with the spoon. Her words came out in ragged breaths. Each time the spoon landed she grunted. “I…love it…Daddy. I love being…bent over…like a whore…and having you…smack…my…ass.” The pizza dough was squeezed between her fingers, since it was the only thing in front of her that she could grab. He hit her four more times and then she heard the rattle of the spoon as it landed on the floor.
“That’s my good girl. I’m very pleased that you’re enjoying yourself.” She heard him moving around behind her. She felt his hands, gentle, on her ass, softly rubbing the red, sore cheeks. “You took that really well, baby. Good job. I’m proud of you.” A moment later, she felt his breath on her ass, and she was confused. What in the world was he doing? She shivered as he started to place soft kisses on the tender parts where he had hit her with the spoon. His strong hands pulled her cheeks apart and she winced from the pain. He let out an animalistic growl. “I have to see what my beautiful whore tastes like.” She felt his him pull her panties to the side and felt his smooth, wet tongue start to move over her pussy lips. She was acutely aware of how wet the spanking had made her. She moaned as he traced her lips with his tongue, then slowly parted them, seeking the source of her wetness. He spent some time lapping at her before he started to run his tongue back up, slowly, towards her ass.
She froze, muscles tense, unsure about what was happening. “Daddy?” It came out in a squeak.
“Shhhh. I want to taste what is mine. You’re mine, every single bit of you. You can’t hide any part of you from me. Relax and trust Daddy.” She felt vulnerable knowing that his face was mere inches from her asshole. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, just like he had instructed. She felt the pointy tip of his wet tongue gently lick her asshole in short, small movements. She moaned. She was torn between enjoy the sensations and being embarrassed. It was such an intimate act. “I can feel you tensing, baby. Relax.” She unclenched her ass cheeks and felt the lower half of her body go slack. He continued to lick her anus, now pressing more firmly against it, using the flat of his tongue in broad, long strokes. She closed her eyes and focused on how his tongue made her feel: vulnerable, wanted, horny. He continued savoring her for several minutes before she felt him rise. He pushed against her, forcing her to stand straighter.
She heard the zipper of his pants open. He pressed his cock against her ass. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me while I was tasting you? You’re such a good slutty wife. Stay there. Don’t turn around.” Her head bowed, breathing heavily, she heard him rooting around in the cabinets, then him walking back over to her. He placed a jar of coconut oil, already opened, on the counter next to her where she could see it. He reached into the jar, took some in his hand, and spread it between her ass cheeks. It melted quickly with the heat of her body. He pushed a finger inside, making her groan loudly, as he moved it in and out. His finger came out with a pop. His hand returned to the jar, taking another scoop. Judging by the sounds she heard behind her, he was lubing up his cock. “Princess, I’m afraid that I’m going to ruin your dress. Be a good whore for me tonight and I’ll buy you one to replace it.” He wiped his hands on her dress.
Without another word, he dug his fingers into her hips and jerked her toward him. He pulled her panties to the side roughly. She felt his slippery dick between her ass cheeks, teasing her as he ran it up and down. He pressed the tip of his cock against her anus. She took a deep breath. As he slowly pushed inside of her, she exhaled, bearing down so she could take him into her more easily. She focused on accepting all of him into her ass, breathing slowly, concentrating on opening herself up to him. She winced as he forced the head past the ring, moaning as he worked his length into her, filling her up, stretching her out.
With his cock settled into her ass, his hands were free. He ran his them under her dress and roughly pushed her bra aside. She squealed as he squeezed her breasts hard. She hoped he left bruises; she liked seeing the reminders of a fun evening. Her squeal turned into whimpers as he tugged and squeezed and rolled her nipples between his fingers. Her noises only encouraged him to play her them more forcefully. He started to smack her tits. He couldn’t get a lot of moment from under her dress, but he managed to land a few stinging slaps. She couldn’t help but push her ass against him, driving his cock deeper into her. He responded by starting to thrust his hips, gently at first, letting her get used to him being inside of her. “Do you like that, baby?” he rumbled, nipples still between his fingers.
“Yes, Daddy, I do. You feel so good in me.”
“Do you feel like a good girl or a whore right now?”
“Both, Daddy. I’m trying to be a good girl by being your whore. I want you to use me, Daddy. I want you to fuck me hard. Please?” The more aroused she was, the easier the dirty talk came to her. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be treated like a slut. She wanted him to use her how he wanted. She wanted to feel dirty, with his cum running down her ass to her thighs. She didn’t want to be his precious wife at that moment, she wanted to be his toy. She wanted to lose control tonight.
He chuckled. “Is that so, pet? If you want to be treated like a whore, I’m happy do to that for you.” He tightened his hold on her breasts. He began to push himself inside of her faster, harder. It felt like he was trying to be as deep inside her as possible. The breath was knocked out of her as he rammed her ass, pushing her torso into the edge of the counter, the sharp edges of his nails denting her breasts. “Are you ready for me to cum in your ass, slut? Tell me how much you want me to fill you.”
She yelped; pleasure was mixing with pain. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the cock in her ass or the way he dug into her breasts or from being pressed up against the counter. Maybe it was all three. She didn’t care, she just wanted to please him. “Yes, Daddy, I’m ready for you to fill me with your cum. I want to feel it dripping out of me. I’m yours. Cum in your whore. Please.”
Panting, he fucked her harder, driving his cock into her ass over and over. She could hear the sounds of their bodies bouncing off of one another, his grunts and her whimpers mixed together. His fingers closed around her tits and she felt his body start to jerk as he orgasmed. He thrust a few more times, slamming himself against her ass as he unloaded inside of her. His hands fell from her tits and she felt his body sag, heavy against her. He kissed her back, over the fabric of her dress. “My girl. My good girl.” She felt him straighten up, his cock sliding out with a slurp. She heard drops of liquid hit the floor. She sighed, already missing being filled with him. He arranged her panties and pulled her dress back down. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close; their breathing slowing down together.
“I love you, princess. You did such a good job tonight. So pretty, so obedient, so naughty. My wifey.” They snuggled for a few more minutes while leaning against the counter, hips swaying back and forth as he held her. She looked down at her hands, pizza dough stuck under her nails, covered in flour and covered in bits of dough. The counter was a mess. The floor was a mess. She didn’t want to even think about what her dress looked like. She wondered if she could salvage dinner. He peered over her shoulder, curious what she was looking at so intently. He kissed her cheek “Baby, you worked so hard on that; I’m sorry. But please don’t worry about it. You made me so happy tonight; you deserve a break. Let’s get you in the shower, get both of us cleaned up, and we’ll order a pizza. Okay?”
She nodded, happy that he was taking control of the situation. She was blissfully exhausted and sore and coated in a variety of substances. She was in desperate need of a shower. But even in her disheveled state, she was also still aching for him and his touch. “Yes, Sir, let’s go upstairs.” She let him lead her upstairs by the hand.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/grbn34/what_about_dinner_mdom_fsub_ds_anal_hoh_tradwife
Very hot