[MF] When my wife got anxious, I sent her into subspace

Mental health problems suck, yo. My own relationship is no stranger to them on both sides, and no one should be afraid of managing issues with therapy and drugs if needed. Even then, sometimes you have to put in real work to love yourself.

Or, if you’re in a relationship, your partner can, too. Physically.

I’ve had many a year to recognize the signs of an anxious spiral in my wife. I can see the body negativity, the imposter syndrome, a certain set of the shoulders and conflicted expression… it’s gotten better as time has gone by, but it always hurts to see it when it happens. Of course you start with talk: make it easier for her to ask for her wants and needs, give her the positive perspective she can’t see, give her comfort and touch. But sometimes it’s not enough. When that happens, I could let it run its course and have the love of my life struggling with intrusive thoughts all day… or I could fuck her until she snaps out of it.

—–

I remember when it started. She was lying on our bed, telling me about how she felt fat and out of shape and undesirable, and no amount of gentle coaxing from me would change her mind.

Let’s be clear here: my wife is beautiful and sexy. So I figured I’d show her exactly how sexy, and ripped open her bathrobe, forced her legs apart, and dived into her crotch to suck on her clit.

Free use is really hot. I never get tired of the expression of shock she has when I go from zero to full-on pleasure dom in the space of a breath.

I gave her clit rapid strokes with my tongue, pushing her to cum as quickly as possible. Her breath came out in gasps and moans as she twisted to grab the sheets. I felt a resistance… some kind of tension within that she couldn’t let go – and this from a woman who usually climaxes at the drop of a hat. *Well*, I thought, *I love a challenge*.

I decided to ramp it up. One hand moved up to grab both her wrists and hold them as she struggled. The tongue on her clit moved into lovingly long, slow strokes in sync with two fingers’ motion on her g-spot. She jolted and gasped every time, and I slowly increased the tempo, mentally thanking 12 years of orchestral training for being able to smoothly accelerate from an adagio to a brisk allegro with her shaking legs and sharp exhalations marking time. (God, I’m a nerd.)

It was almost as though I could feel the wave of pleasure crest over the wall she had built up. Her body grew more and more tense with every moment, and then suddenly there was a ragged catch of breath. Letting her hands go and replacing my mouth on her clit with my thumb, I let her ride out the pleasure as I watched her body shudder.

I live for a woman’s orgasm, and this one was beautiful. The set tension of her shoulders relaxed, her eyes rolled back, her abs showed through taut skin. My fingers inside of her felt like they were in a vicegrip as I gently teased back and forth, inside and outside, jolting her body as new waves of stimulation prolonged the pleasure. By the time she came down, panting, my thumb still gently teasing her clit, there was a slightly stunned look in her eyes.

“Did I… did I just squirt on your face?”

“Yep. What was it you were saying about being unattractive?”

She tried to toss a pillow at my face but found her arms weren’t working right, then collapsed back onto the bed. Glancing at the pillow on the floor, I started to work my fingers inside of her again. *I’m not done proving my point.*

Whatever was holding her back before, it was now gone. Before another minute had passed I had fingered her to another orgasm as I held her down with my hand covering her mouth. I didn’t let up on the fast rhythm and pushed for the next climax before she could recover, forcing her to look into my eyes with firm pressure on her jaw and cheekbones. Her muffled cries sang out as her hands flashed wildly between my forearm and the sheets. I kept going – I had a destination in mind.

Four screaming orgasms later I had her exactly where I wanted: her back arched, clit swollen, grinding my fingers into her g-spot, arms pushing her down from the headboard, her face showing pain but her body desperately seeking more. I withdrew my fingers and slowly spanked her pussy, making sure to hit her clit every time to cause an aftershock.

*It’s time.* “Do you want to be used?” I whispered in her ear.

Her unfocused eyes turned to me. “Yes, Sir.”

“Do you like being my toy?” “I love it when you use me, Sir.”

I smiled at her, then gave her a full kiss with my lips and beard still tasting of her pussy. Briefly breaking contact, I push her legs over my shoulders and entered her dripping wetness hard and fast, my hands grabbing her biceps and pinning them to her sides. I kissed her again and pulled her onto my cock, penetrating hard and deep and taking silent gratification at the mixture of pain and pleasure she must be feeling. Sensitized beyond belief, she begins to cum again and again, the comedown from one blending seamlessly into another. All too soon, I feel pressure building and begin moaning myself, sending her into another paroxysm as I release inside of her.

“Now do you feel attractive?”

—–

A few minutes later she was cuddled into my shoulder, sweaty and contented. As I stroked her hair and she pulled a blanket closer over her shoulders, she began giggling uncontrollably. Fearing the worst from our habit of weird free-associating pillow talk, I asked “what?” Once the giggling was under control, she sang [the chorus from this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cV6pnvCVM4&t=137s) at me, and then laughed at my groan.

There has been many a morning since where I’ve turned to her and asked “am I going to have to give you the Teaches of Peaches?”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/x4esko/mf_when_my_wife_got_anxious_i_sent_her_into