Wayward Wife's Punishment
Chapter 13
Friday I received an interoffice memo from Jillian Jones announcing that
in her absence for the next three business weeks a Ms. Frances Forbes would be
assuming her duties. I was a little puzzled that she hadn't given me a heads up
prior, then decided that in her orderly world a one night stand did not warrant
any special treatment. This woman was beginning to intrigue me more than I
wanted to admit.
Things got even stranger that evening when my answering machine coughed
up a phone message from WooWoo informing me that she would be out of the country
for the next six weeks. There was no reason given for this rather sudden
departure nor did she pledge her undying love. I muttered about what the hell to
do with the strange paraphernalia that was cluttering up my bathroom. Then the
humor of it all hit me and I must have laughed for a couple of minutes before
regaining my composure and at least part of my rather dented self esteem.
Nothing like being dumped by not one but two women on the same day. That was
definitely a new record for me.
On Monday Glinda, that was her name, not Brenda or Glenda, homed in on
me like a heat seeking missile. I must have presented quite an easy target for
this young lady, and she made the most of her opportunity. She chatted me up
which was a switch for her I guess; nothing these days made much sense, so I
just rolled with the punches. One thing led to another and after work she and I
met for cocktails and more talk.
It was a little strange to realize that this tall, blue-eyed brunette
with the incredible rack had done her homework and this was not just a random
hit and run accident which was the norm these days. Glinda knew about my
"personal problem" and was most solicitous about the health of my sister-in-law
and sympathetic to the strain that being separated from my wife must be causing.
It was difficult to keep a straight face when she played that card. She prattled
on about her background; raised in a farming community, attended a local college
and then made the big move to the city. This was her first job and she loved the
activity and meeting all these new people. She lived in a nice little apartment
with a girlfriend who also worked at the company.
I was beginning to nod off when I think she propositioned me. Now fully
alert, my mind digested what she had just said about missing her brothers and
dad, who truly enjoyed the meals she and her mom prepared for them when she
lived at home. Glinda followed this up by comparing me to her older brother who
she always looked up to. Then she moved in for the kill, offering to come over
to my place so I could enjoy a home cooked meal prepared by this young,
innocent, angel of mercy. I immediately began to think about the dessert, having
recently experienced that kind of home cooking from JJ. The little man who lived
downstairs in my pants immediately put his two cents in, stating in a loud clear
voice, "Bring it on!"
I smiled at this charming young lady, appreciating the fact that unlike
JJ, her assets were right out front and center, while in parallel making a
mental note to hide WooWoo's little keepsakes. I cleared my throat, watching her
quiver like a bird dog on point, and accepted with pleasure her gracious offer.
The merry-go-round that was now my life began to crank up once more, its music
sounding in my ears. "Just remember to hold on tight." I said to myself.
Wednesday evening Glinda Garman showed up at my door bearing gifts
wrapped in tinfoil. However all I could notice was that dessert was bursting out
of that tight green dress from top to bottom. This girl was built! My little
buddy started to stretch and wake up with a vengeance as Glinda wiggled her way
into my kitchen to heat things up in more ways than one. For some odd reason my
mind began to wander as this heavenly body disappeared from view. What is it
about this pattern in the names of the women that pick me up at work I wondered?
First there was JJ and now GG. Was this just a coincidence like the same tattoos
in the very same place that Nancy and Willa once carried? Then WooWoo popped
into mind. That one was my own doing, but it fit the pattern in some weird way.
Was it possible that I could go to the company phone book and check out in
advance all those women that would be hitting on me in the weeks and months to
come? If only foretelling the future could be that easy.
Dinner proved to be quite a challenge. Glinda put an impressive spread
on the table, but every time she bent over, I lost my appetite for food as this
overhelming urge to tear her clothes off took control. Things got a little
better when she sat down, hiding her totally distracting ass from sight. I did
my best to shovel sufficient food into my face to make her feel good about her
work of mercy, thus softening her up for the moves I was prepared to make in the
event that I had misjudged her intentions. I had to control more than my urges,
there was enough food on the table to feed me for a week and under normal
circumstances I would have been very thankful for this bounty. However the
thought of entering the lists severely handicapped by a belly bulging with beef,
broccoli, bread and a lot of other foods that didn't even begin with the letter
"B" gave me pause.
One way to avoid hurting Glinda's feelings by not gorging myself was to
pay attention to what she was saying between very carefully spaced mouthfuls of
food. So I listened and then tried to respond when appropriate. I nodded sagely
as she rattled on about how much she dearly loved and missed her brothers. Then
I stuck my foot in it, or did I just fall into a carefully laid trap?
I innocently asked when she had last been with them. She paused in mid
fork lift and responded, "What kind of a girl do you think I am? I would never
get involved in a threesome, especially with my brothers." I suddenly could
clearly hear the music from the Twilight Zone playing in my head.
There is an old adage concerning making the best out of a bad situation.
I couldn't remember it exactly, but it translated to "Oh what the hell!" So I
stuck my head into the lioness' mouth and picked up on the thread by asking,
"Does that mean you only take them on one at a time?" Glinda gave me a withering
look before answering.
"I've always done them separately, ever since we started doing it when I
was 13." The music playing in my head had now shifted to the Funeral March of
the Marionettes. I am well and truly done. Then the lioness growls and her
throat muscles tighten so that she can say, "Dad started doing me a few months
before they got into the act, and I got used to being with only one person at a
time. That's the way I am." That last sentence fired up an image of a pipe
smoking, squinting sailor with a huge jaw flexing his muscles. Now a calliope
began to play in the background.
I'm so flabbergasted that I stick both feet in my mouth. "How did you
ever keep this from your mom?", I asked.
"Who do you think put me up to doing it with dad in the first place?"
Glinda responded triumphantly. It's game, set and match for Glinda Garman. My
life, such as it was, now was flashing before my eyes.
Somehow we managed to find the bedroom and things got a lot better after
we got naked. Glinda had the body of a porn star. Imagine your favorite porn
punchboard, then add a couple of inches and a cup size to her tits without those
puppies giving anything up to gravity. Next subtract an inch or so from her
midriff and do away with the pierced navel. Try to imagine her hips flaring out,
forming two perfectly rounded spheres of firm flesh that you could bounce a
quarter off of. Finally think of those two mounds of buttery perfection mounted
on ball bearings that are attached to a pair of the shapliest legs that ever
supported an ass. That's what Glinda looked like. After one slow pirouette to
give me the full effect of that awesome body,she threw up her hands and let that
magnificent form free fall onto my king sized bed. Seconds later I too crash
landed on the fresh sheets I'd personally changed that very morning.
I'd love to say the sex was unworldly, but it wasn't. It was what I
would describe as mostly vanilla. Glinda may have been doing the nasty with the
male members of her immediate family for almost ten years, but she hadn't
learned much. When I tried to go down on the springy curls of dark hair guarding
her "tunnel of love" as she described it during our less than passionate tryst,
she pushed me away. "That's for lesbians!" she whispered in a tone that was
definitely judgemental. I thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't flipped her over
and started rimming her asshole.
The best that happened was my little buddy got a few affectionate pecks
from her bee stung lips and a vigorous massage by hand whenever he began to lay
down on the job. Other than that there is little to report for nearly four hours
of close quarters combat. It was however a very educational experience and
offered a conduit that might enable me to reform her rather stunted views
concerning sex. It was apparent from her pillow talk that the strict
fundamentalist religion that most farm folk adhere to was responsible for her
meat and potatoes approach to this very entertaining indoor sport. It was also
evident that she was growing more and more isolated from the home and family she
so treasured.
Dear old dad had passed away from a heart attack when she was a senior
in high school. Say what you will about his lack of imagination and technique,
he was a randy old goat of a man. It was for this reason that his wife had
foisted him off on Glinda; she had grown tired of his relentless assaults on her
person as the years went by. If he only had some kind of outlet for his nervous
energy such as a hobby like wood carving or the like Glinda would no doubt have
turned out to be a competely different person. On the down side of that thought,
she wouldn't be lying next to me idly toying with my flacid member as she told
me the story of her life.
Glinda's older brother, Will, had married less than a year after his
dad's death and was happily fathering children to keep his jolly, plump wife
occupied and satisifed with her own little dream world. There was no longer room
in his busy life for his younger sister. Jeff, her younger brother was now in
college and had discovered a new type of female; one that liked change and
taking chances. There were a lot of these girls around campus and he was
learning a lot from them. The more they taught him about life in the sack, the
more distant he became to her.
She was ripe for change, and I decided to be the one to affect that
change; her guru when it came to expanding her sexual horizons and that tight
asshole. Silly me, this bundle of supressed fuck energy proved to be a quick
study and damned near killed me in the process of turning into every man's wet
dream in a matter of weeks. It was one hell of a roller coaster ride while it
lasted.
Friday evening she was back for more, her resolve buttressed by serious
talks with her room mate, who was a bit wiser in the ways of the world beyond
the farm, and her aging mom who urged her to spread her wings,or was it her
legs, and enjoy the foolish pleasures that made life interesting. That night we
soaked the sheets. What she lacked in knowledge she made up for with enthusiasm.
I'm only human and after demonstrating that there were numerous and very
creative ways for a man and woman to couple, begged off further lessons until
the following day.
Upon waking I was confronted with about 115 pounds of eager young
womanhood, just raring to go and go and go like some frenzied drum beating
bunny. This was not acceptable. I could easily imagine the coroner pronouncing
the cause of my death as being acute dedydration coupled with extremely high
blood pressure that led to a massive heart attack, strange for one so young. To
divert her attention until I could regain control of the situation I suggested
we go out for a hearty breakfast and then pay a visit to one of the neighborhood
purveyors of fine filth in order to purchase some educational material. Glinda
was up for all of that. At my insistence we showered separately, I was terrified
at what might happen if we were brought into close proximity. Then refreshed and
eager for what lay ahead we left my apartment.
Glinda had put on the same baggy sweat pants and pullover she'd worn
last evening, for about five minutes. It did a great job of disguising her
awesome body, a good thing considering our ultimate destination this morning. As
we sauntered from the restaurant and headed for my car, it hit me that Glinda's
underwear was about as plain and functional as my desk at work. Perhaps there
might be a few extra things that we needed to pick up before returning to my
place for some more lessons in love, or was it lust.
We entered The Nook Adult Shoppe through the rear entrance and began
wandering through the place. Glinda at first was shocked by the covers of the
magazines encased in plastic. Then she giggled and pointed to one depicting a
couple of bored, bare assed models doing the nasty in a position that we had
tried out last evening. That seemed to break the ice a bit and so I steered her
toward the hard core video tapes. I'd been in this store on a number of
occasions during the last few months as my marriage slowly disintegrated, and
was somewhat familiar with the material available.
I decided that a potpourri of filth was appropiate for my purposes.
Within fifteen minutes half a dozen tapes covering the waterfront from lesbian
through rough sex had been carefully selected. Included in this package was one
of my personal favorites, a German porn flick titled Der Pflaumenbaum, which
featured a bevy of buxom Teutonic ladies of various ages involved in such exotic
activities as fisting and golden showers not to mention the more conventional
anal action that seemed to be the staple of the German porn industry. What I
particularly enjoyed was the fact that the women appearing in these tapes were
not the raving beauties that populate most of the material shot in this country.
Considering the fantasy woman that I was actually doing and going to be doing
some more very shortly, this tape might be just what the doctor ordered when it
came to raising Glinda's consciousness about the joys that lay beyond things
conventional.
As we approached the check-out counter, manned by a tattooed fellow with
a surly attitude, Glinda clutched my arm and pointed excitedly toward a display
case containing a goodly selection of buzzing things and rubber models of sex
organs that were definitely not of standard girth and length. "My room mate,
Candi, has one of those!" she breathlessly announced, causing the bored sales
clerk to come out of his stupor. Glinda tapped the glass to indicate a sleek
silvery cylinder approximately nine inches in length, a battery operated
vibrator, standard issue for the sexually frustrated female. I started to wonder
what Candi looked like, then gave my ass a swift mental kick to bring myself
back to reality.
Sensing a live one, the formerly surly, bored sales representative(his
title, not mine) approached us, his sleepy eyes widening as he realized that
Glinda did not fit the physical profile of the ladies that usually frequented
his establishment. We fell victim to his expertise in the field of enhancement
devices (his words, not mine), and added a pocket rocket and an inflatible dildo
to our purchases. I was not at all sure that Glinda was ready for such advanced
sex toys, but it was her pussy not mine.
My poor attempt at sophisticated humor cost me another large sum of
money. She absolutely lit up when I joked that all we needed to complete our
collection of adult toys and marital aids (his words, not mine) was a pair of
handcuffs. She tried on a number of different models before making her choice,
the one with the padded inserts guaranteed not to leave any unsightly marks. My
credit card was offered, swallowed up by the machine on the counter by the cash
register, and accepted. There would be hell to pay when this month's statement
rolled around. In the interests of fiscal reponsibility I tabled my idea of
taking Glinda to buy some decent or should I say indecent lingerie. We headed
back to my apartment with my young friend and pupil clutching her bag of fun to
her awesome chest.
