Tell Me a Bedtime Story

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The evening had been just what we’d both needed. I’d been putting in day after day of working on my novel for every waking hour, typing away behind a closed door and neglecting my wonderful wife Bonnie, and doing nothing to help with chores, bills, or decisions. She was ready to scream, I knew, but had restrained herself somehow. Meanwhile I was beginning to burn out, and needed a break if I was going to add a single worthwhile word to my manuscript.

So we’d primped and dressed, and seen a play about a couple whose fierce but illicit attraction had touched off a blaze that burned their lives but left them clean and pure. Then we finished up with a late, rich, delectable meal. Finally we had returned home, changed into bedclothes, and taken a dram of fine scotch to the comfy couch in front of the fire. One in the morning had come and gone, but we did not want to sleep.

“Tell me a bedtime story,” she said with a purr in her voice and a rub of her cheek against my chest.

“A bedtime story, eh? You seem a little old for Mother Goose. There once was a writer who was crazy about his wife…”

“No, nothing real. I want a fantasy.”

“OK. Hmmm. Bonnie pulled up her unicorn mount as they reached the top of the ridge, and peered down at the village resting in the arms of the valley…”

“No, no. Not that kind of fantasy.” She slipped a slinky arm around my side and wiggled against me, walking fingers up my arm. “I want a naughty fantasy.”

“Aha. Naughty? I can write naughty.”

“Oh yes. I want really naughty. I want something you would never write into one of your stories. I want you to light a fire in the naughtiest corner of my wicked soul.”

I thought for a moment. I didn’t want to take any chance of ruining a fabulous moment. I didn’t want to go too far, and throw cold water on that fire. But she was asking for naughty, and not just a little bit naughty.

“Well,” I began, “I know about something that was never meant to be shared. I swore I would never tell anyone what happened.”

“Tell me!” She slid down and onto her back, her head on my lap, and got ready to listen.

“Well, you have to keep this to yourself. There could be real trouble if this ever got out past you and me. This friend of mine, you don’t know him but let’s call him Joe, he was a sharp poker player, and after one long session, this other guy, Phil, owed Joe $10,000 more than he had any way to pay. When Phil failed to fulfill the IOUs that Joe had generously let him throw into the pot, Joe got pretty mad. Ten thousand is a lot of money, but since Phil could not ever pay it, it was in some sense not real. Joe began to think about alternative sorts of payment that he would accept. He thought of some ideas for barter or services, but they all were pretty unexciting, and half of them were also things Phil would not really be able to provide. Even though Joe’s superior position in their company meant that he could make a lot of trouble for Phil, Joe couldn’t come up with anything worthy of the leverage he held. So he began to think a bit outside the box.

“Finally, because Joe was a man with a certain kind of mind, and because any time he thought about Phil his mind ran to this subject, he began to think about Holly. Holly was Phil’s twenty-year-old daughter. Joe had lusted after Holly since he first saw her at Phil’s house, wandering around in incredibly short shorts and a ponytail, her perfect, innocent young face sucking on a lollipop, her spectacular, long, tanned legs occupying enough of Joe’s mind and imagination that he had bet stupidly twice and lost a bundle. Holly still lived at home while she attended a local community college, and Joe enjoyed frequent opportunities to steal long looks and entertain filthy thoughts about her.

“So he formulated an idea. He figured it had no chance to fly, but it would cost nothing to find out. He went to Phil and told him he had an idea that might help to solve their little dilemma.

“Phil was eager to hear. And after a brief period of consideration, he accepted the suggestion. He’d been wracking his brains, and he had a pretty good idea that nothing better was going to come along, but a whole lot worse could, if he didn’t figure out something. There might be some unpleasantness afterward, some loss of trust, but he ataşehir escort bayan calculated the odds and figured this would be more repairable than what could happen if he did not go ahead.

“The next Saturday evening, Joe knocked on Phil’s door. Phil led him down to the den and handed him a bourbon on the rocks, then went over to an easy chair across the room and switched on the TV. A movie was showing. Joe found a seat on the couch. It looked just like two pals watching TV and passing the time. But they were not going to be alone.

“Down the stairs came the daughter, in a longish nightgown cut straight and low across her bust, and with her light-brown hair pulled into a long ponytail. She descended slowly, hesitating every few steps. Her feet were bare. Her long legs were out of view. She reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there for a minute. Her face was tan and lovely in a young-girl way, with flawless skin, tempting pink lips, long lashes, dark irises. Her expression reflected her tentative state.

“Joe assessed her with appreciation. Her breasts were not large, but had reached that size that showed she was no longer a little girl. Her shape was a bit hidden by the nightgown, but Joe knew it quite well and his imagination thrilled him with a vision of what lay underneath. She was a ripe peach, fresh, adorable, tempting, luscious.

“‘Please go ahead, Holly,’ said Phil. ‘Just as we talked about. It’s important that Mr. Hunter feels welcome.'”

Sensing that the story was about to enter new territory, Bonnie sat up and curled next to me, watching me, her legs folded under her.

“Holly crossed the room towards the couch where Joe waited, her step partly uncertain, and partly trying, it seemed, to be sultry. Clearly her father had explained what had to happen: that she needed to cooperate and leave Mr. Hunter feeling like he had got what he had bargained for.

“Holly reached the couch and sat down to the right of their guest. The TV was set to a rather low volume, but Kevin Spacey and Mena Suvari could be seen maneuvering around a kitchen. Phil in his chair was facing the others on the couch, and not the TV. ‘Go ahead, Holly,’ Phil said. ‘I’m here, so you don’t have to worry.’

“The girl took a breath, let it out, and with a flat expression, bent forward and down towards her ankles. As she did so, Joe got a view of most of the side of a young, smallish, but firm breast, as the front of the nightgown sagged down a bit.”

With those words, Bonnie reached up, almost as though it was involuntary, and slid her left nightie strap down, then shrugged her shoulder skillfully, so that the nightie slid down the beautiful rounded top of the breast and only her nipple was holding it up. And then with one more little wiggle, she let that fantastic firm breast escape. I couldn’t continue with the story for a moment. I had to give that view its due, and marvel at nature’s perfection. The story’s the thing, I reminded myself, but I couldn’t help myself: I reached over and petted that perfect orb.

“And then what?” Bonnie prompted.

“And then Holly grasped the bottom hem of her long nightgown with both hands, and began to draw it slowly up her legs, over her knees, and up towards the tops of her thighs.”

Bonnie now chose this moment to slide her left leg over my lap, which caused her own nightie to ride up, leaving her leg completely exposed, and creating unbearably tempting shadowed recesses where the nightie still hid her other leg and what lay between. I couldn’t help myself: I lowered my hand from her breast to her thigh, and began to stroke it, long and slowly.

“Soon Holly’s gorgeous legs were stretched out next to Joe, and the hem of the nightgown was sliding up her splendid thighs, just as high as what he had been able to see when she had worn those summer shorts. And now the hem was rising close to where those thighs came together. This was the first part of what he had bought with the forgiven debt. No, it wasn’t really worth $10,000, when one could hire several top-flight call girls for that. But the $10K was never going to be in his pocket anyway, and the sheer wickedness of what he was seeing, and what he was being allowed to do, was worth a great deal indeed.

“Joe savored the view for a significant escort kadıöy while. God, she was incredible. A masterpiece. Holly turned to him with an expression both anxious and inquisitive. Was he going to get on with it? She didn’t want him to, but she also didn’t want this weird ogled feeling to last all night.

“So Joe reached out and touched her knee, and then put a flat palm on the outside of her thigh, and rested it there. Here it was, the other half of what he had bought. She was to sit next to him while they watched TV, and she would have nothing on her legs, and he would be allowed to touch them. As much as he wanted. Now he was collecting what he had coming. No one was watching a lot of TV, but the rest of the deal was “the nuts”, as a poker player might say. This was going to be a better feeling than hitting a single out on the river – winning a hand by the longest shot at the last possible minute.

“Now Joe placed his hand higher, on top of the girl’s thigh, and gripped it, squeezed it, felt the firm young muscle. She put her hands out to her sides on the couch, as though to anchor herself from moving away. And now Joe moved his hand over to the inside of her thigh, where he stroked and drew circles on the soft and perfect flesh.”

Once again Bonnie was moved to action. She took my hand from where it was caressing her thigh, and placed it high between her thighs, and closed them on it. I could feel a lot of warmth on the edge of my hand that was closest to her panties, and I could feel the softness of her inner thighs. And I didn’t need a hand to feel how iron-hard my cock had become.

“All this while, as Joe fondled and groped his daughter, Phil sat and watched, more or less expressionless, with his elbows on the chair’s arms, his legs crossed, his hands steepled. He didn’t seem conflicted, like you would expect.

“On the couch, turned on beyond belief, Joe reached over to take hold of both of Holly’s small fists, where they were still gripping the raised hem of the nightgown just below her crotch. He grasped her fists and pushed upward towards her waist. Into view came her sweet white panties, and the unicorn and rainbow design on them. And a few wispy, light pubic hairs, sneaking out just a bit past the crotch of her panties. And a faint hint of her unbelievably enticing camel toe.

“Poor Joe, he could not resist. He reached over to touch and pinch higher on her thigh, then slid a finger along where the thigh met the panty waistband. There was a valley there between the thigh and the rise of her mound that made a happy home for his hand.

“‘Daddy? Daddy, can he do this?’

“‘Yes, dear,’ said Phil. ‘It’s really still part of your legs.'”

Bonnie now swiveled a bit on our couch, so that she could put my hand alongside her panties, on the very highest, softest part of her thigh. I stroked there, and she began to squirm a bit. My hand wasn’t quite where she really wanted it to be.

“Joe was quick to continue. He slid up and down, bumping the panty’s edge, along the softest of soft flesh, and then slipped a fingertip, just a fingertip, underneath the fabric. But just as quickly, he pulled it back out, so that it might have been thought to be a mistake.

“The hand did not return to its previous good behavior, however. Joe rested it on the pubic mound above that camel toe, and rolled and circled it a little. Then, gently, he touched her lips, so gently, through the panty material.

“‘Daddy! Daddy, can he do this??’

“A moment passed before the answer came, in a shaky voice.


“A throat was cleared, and another moment passed, before Phil added ‘We need him to be happy.'”

And here, Bonnie took the hand that was teasing her along her inner thigh, and slid it into her panties, from the side, so that my fingers could tickle and stroke the lips of her steaming pussy.

“Joe knew now that he may as well push any boundary he felt like pushing. What would Phil do? He might say no at some point, but Joe had already had his money’s worth, so there was really nothing to lose. Phil was not about to fight, or call the police, or do anything more drastic than calling a halt.

“So Joe hooked a finger under Holly’s panties at both hips, and pulled the underwear straight down to mid-thigh. maltepe escort Holly didn’t say a thing, but looked over at her father, pleading for help. Phil looked on, and said nothing. The nubile twenty-year-old (who, sitting like this with girlish panties, and total deference to her father, seemed even younger) was on delightful display, her panties down, her nightgown pulled up, her breasts pushing at the thin constraint, her gorgeous face close to Joe’s.

“Joe soaked it all in for a minute or two, but his hands became restless again. Emboldened by Phil’s curious inaction and seemingly equal appreciation for the moment, Joe now placed a finger against Holly’s fresh unplundered puss, and drew it up and down, rolling a bit of lip between two fingers, plunging the length of the finger between those lips, rubbing slowly but relentlessly, and like a dowser seeking water, drawing moisture up and out.

“Holly might have begun to resign herself to this treatment, but hopeful that her father would never allow this assault that had nothing to do with what they had discussed beforehand, Holly turned again to Phil and pleaded, softly, ‘Daddy?’

“But Phil was silent, and made no move, except for the hand that was now pressing between his crossed legs a bit.”

Bonnie grabbed my wrist and forced my hand. Far from dry and reluctant, she was a gushing pot of ambrosia. I got a finger into her and started to rub vigorously, then frigged her clit, and switched from one to the other as her breathing grew quicker and shallower.

“One of Joe’s hands had been enjoying itself immensely, but the other had been left out of the party, until now. That idle hand found the devil’s work, and reached up to pull the nightgown down in front, revealing the young woman’s breasts. As they emerged into the air, the nipples rose, and Joe leaned down to clasp one between his lips, and kissed and licked and devoured all around the apple-sized prize. His other hand continued to fondle and manipulate Holly’s now-juicy pussy.”

I paused here because I couldn’t keep telling the story at the same time as I bent to suck my wife’s beautiful tit, which had been left alone far too long. Bonnie sighed and wriggled and arched, as I stroked and probed and sucked her up the pleasure curve.

Pausing to breathe, and letting my idle hand take over on Bonnie’s exposed breast, I continued the tale.

“Joe was going to be unstoppable now. He had thoroughly enjoyed all of his illicit groping of the young woman’s body, but he had reached a point where he could not continue that. He had to fuck her, and he had to do it this minute. He pulled his sopping fingers out of Holly’s slit and undid his pants, while his mouth continued to work its wiles on her breast. His cock sprang free, and in a moment he had pulled her breathtaking legs apart and lined himself up for the final approach.

“‘Daddy, I don’t want this. Make him stop!’ cried the girl.

“‘No, sweetie,’ said Phil, and that was that. Phil had his hand brazenly in his pants, but no one was going to notice that. Joe was focused on fucking this girl to delirium, starting right now, and Holly was starting to try to push him back. It was all futile.”

I swung myself over and above Bonnie and pulled her panties aside with my own soaking finger.

“Joe put his cock against Holly’s unwilling puss,” I whispered, inches from Bonnie’s face, “and he began to push in. There was nothing she could do against the much larger and totally desperate man.”

I put my cock against my beautiful wife’s puss and began to push in, and we both groaned with the new level of pleasure. I pulled out, and pushed in deeper, and picked up the pace a bit. God, it was delightful. There was nothing we wanted to do but fuck like this until time wound down to an end. But we weren’t going to last as long as we would have liked. We weren’t going to last long at all. I began already to feel the come starting, and when Bonnie grunted out an “oh!” followed by several little cries, and blazed her ecstasy all over her lovely face, and pulled at my thrusting cock with her needful pussy, I poured my pleasure into her, and collapsed on her, and we lay there for quite some while, lost in feeling, spent and in love.

In the morning, the first thing she said to me, leaning over me in our bed, was “You know, I never found out how the story ended.”

“I hate to start a storytelling at the end, but as you can imagine, Joe was…”

“No, no. Not them. I mean the TV movie.”

I hit her with the nearest pillow. How I love that woman.

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