Cooperation
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Cooperation
Ann, in her sundress, breezed in from her lunch with direction. Her greeting to me bordered on the brusque. The next words she spoke were, “Go disrobe and meet me in the bathroom.”
I walked back to the bedroom to disrobe.
Did that sound strange? Perhaps some explanation is in order. I would never claim that Ann dominates me. I would not claim that I submit to her. The word I prefer is cooperate. In those moments when Ann seems to take charge and spout orders, I have discovered that cooperation is a sound policy.
Cooperation has very rarely proven disagreeable and has often proven pleasant and gratifying. We are partners, companions, lovers and friends. I trust her and she me, I think. Why be disagreeable? Why not go along to get along? Why not just cooperate?
I appeared at the bathroom door bare-headed, barefooted and bare. A brief glance provided some information about the direction the afternoon was taking. Ann stood with the big hot water bottle and an enema hose in her hand. The bulging bottle suggested that Ann had already filled it with a half-gallon of warm water. And, my nudity intimated that I was the clear candidate for a cleaning.
“Lay down on the rug,” Ann told me.
True to form I cooperated, face down, legs slightly spread. I felt a finger at my anus, cool and slippery with lubricant which was liberally spread around. Ann’s touch was gentle and felt pleasant on my backdoor. The nozzle on the hose tickled when she inserted it. She hung the hot water bottle on the towel rack, opened the valve and warm water began to trickle into me.
“Let me tell you about lunch,” Ann said as she sat down on the toilet seat.
I responded with a low, “Mm-hmm.”
“So, Jan and Robbie want to have a baby. The signs say Jan is ovulating now.”
Jan was the attractive red-haired woman who lived up the street. She had sparkling green eyes and straight white teeth. I had never seen her when she did not look well-groomed and put together. She stood about five feet four inches tall with a slender waist and admirable curves. And, I harbored no doubt that she could easily become one of the nicest looking Mommies in the neighborhood.
Robbie had blond hair and blue eyes, stood medium height, and was built rather like a decent high school football tackle. It must also be noted that Robbie’s formal name was Robin, and her sex female. In a general way, she looked like me, except that I never wear earrings. We are both short-haired, blue-eyed, sturdy and broad-shouldered, though not tall, and we are both rather wanting in feminine charms.
I had only ever exchanged pleasantries with either of them. They seemed nice enough. In conversations with Ann, I usually just referred to them as ‘the lesbian couple up the street.’ Ann had taken a little more time and had gotten to know each of them. She had become enough of a friend to merit a lunch invitation.
“So,” Ann continued, “I subscribed you as bahis firmaları donor.”
“Mmmm-hmmmm,” I responded, slightly more emphatically than before.
“I mean anonymously, of course. No one expects you to perform any baby daddy duties or to provide child support. You simply need to produce and we need to package the biggest, gooiest load of your come that we can. The girls will take it from there. I decided maybe a prostate milking was in order. You know how much you always come when I do that. You don’t mind do you?”
It hardly mattered whether I minded or not. Ann had committed us. If something untoward occurred, like a claim for child support, it would affect our household, not just me.
“No, not really,” I assented.
“Good,” said Ann. “And you should know that I offered to help them try for a few months, if necessary. So, we should mark our calendars in case we need to help them again next month.”
“Mm-hmm. Say, I’m beginning to feel a little cramp,” I remarked.
“Yes, the bottle is pretty much empty. Let me get you disconnected.”
Ann pinched the enema valve and removed the slim nozzle from my ass. It tickled going out as it had going in. She hung the kit in the shower with a suggestion that I could wash it up when I showered.
“So, pogo, poop and clean up and meet me in the bedroom when you are ready,” she advised on her way out the door.
I took her meaning. I busted out a couple of dance moves to cause the four pints of fluid to slosh around intensely in my lower intestine. I voided myself, showered and presented myself, nude and dry, at the bedroom door. Glancing around, I noticed that Ann had changed from her sundress into different attire and that a collection of paraphernalia was arrayed on the bed.
As for Ann, the floral print sundress had given way to a black knit sports bra, black yoga pants and red heels. She gave the impression of a woman about to engage in vigorous athletic activity, but with a nod to glamour in her footwear. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head. Her ensemble was lightweight, fit tightly and left little to the imagination. I could see the outline of her nipples through the synthetic bra. I could tell that she had not put panties on under the yoga pants.
Upon making these observations, my cock which had been flaccid and unexcited, began to swell somewhat. Ann, noticing, approached, kissed me warmly on the lips and wantonly groped my manscaped cock and balls. This only added to my engorgement.
As for the bed, a large bath sheet had been lain atop the pale blue quilt. A pair of nylon harnesses with thigh restraints had been attached to the headboard. And, a handful of items had been arrayed at the foot of the bed – a bottle of personal lubricant, a blue nitrile examination glove, a long borosilicate glass dildo shaped like a graduated stack of spheres and a tall, clean jar from the kitchen cabinet which had come into the house several kaçak iddaa months before containing spears of white asparagus.
“Okay, sweetie, up on the bed,” Ann directed.
I crawled in and centered myself supine on the big terry towel. Ann took first one leg, then the other, drew it up and placed a thigh restraint on it. This left me with knees drawn up to my waist, my legs slightly spread and my nether regions fully exposed to Ann when she positioned herself near the foot of the bed. I felt simultaneously vulnerable and entirely safe.
Ann slipped the examination glove onto her right hand, coated it generously with lube and began to gently massage my intimate areas, first my balls, then the shaft of my stiffening cock, then between my ass cheeks. Crawling onto the bed herself, Ann knelt between my ankles, took my cock in her hand, then bent to suck the head into her mouth. A minute of sucking and tongue-swirling eliminated the adjective ‘semi-erect’ from consideration as a descriptor for my cock. When Ann removed it from her mouth, it lay fully and proudly tumescent on my lower abdomen pointing at my navel.
“Jan is pretty, isn’t she?” Ann asked.
“Mm-hmm,” I agreed.
“Do you think we can give her a pretty baby?”
“I’ll do everything I can,” I replied, as Ann dripped more lubricant onto her glove.
I watched as Ann again introduced her gloved hand between my butt cheeks. She found my anus and pushed gently. I, in turn, bore down a bit on a finger which slid like a runner stealing second past my sphincter. I felt Ann crook her finger.
“Right there?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Relax,” she said massaging and stretching me.
Ann removed her finger, tickled my anus a little bit more and penetrated me again with two fingers. She crooked both fingers and applied some pressure.
“Unhh,” I gasped as Ann pressed on my prostate and I felt the pressure from my perineum all the way to the head of my cock, as if someone had suddenly stomped on the master cylinder in a hydraulic system and pistons throughout the rest of the system responded by design.
“Right there?”
“Oh baby, heavens yes, right there,” I replied.
“I’m going to use that dildo on you right there,” Ann said, withdrawing her fingers from my rear. “You should probably touch yourself while I do. We’ll get the most if we cooperate. But when you feel like you are almost ready to climax, point your cock into this jar before you come. We want every drop.”
I put the proffered asparagus jar next to me on the bed as Ann slickened the big glass dildo with lubricant. The dildo slid like a Bonnie Raitt guitar solo right up my ass. Ann pointed it right at my sensitive little gland and began alternating between pressure and relief, between partial insertion and partial extraction. I moaned as the sensations overtook me.
“Close your eyes and touch yourself. I want to watch you help bring yourself off. Close your eyes and imagine kaçak bahis what I’m doing to you. Or, close your eyes and think about Jan and how you’re coming for her. Just don’t forget the jar.”
I shut my eyes and took a hold of my cock, still slippery with lubricant from Ann’s fondling. I did imagine Ann standing at the edge of the bed, in sheer athletic wear and red heels, dildoing my ass. And, I’d be lying, if I said I didn’t imagine fucking Jan, too and thinking that coming in a jar suplied by my adventurous wife for Jan’s impregnation wasn’t the next best thing. I rubbed and squeezed myself trying to stay in synch with Ann’s pounding at my back door. And, I blindly tried to appreciate the subtle sensations that came when Ann twisted the dildo as she pushed or pulled, or when there were changes in the tempo or angle the penetration.
Honestly, it was a matter of only a few short minutes before the ass-play and the self-pleasuring, quickened my pulse, shortened my breath, and turned my moaning rhythmic and constant. I opened my eyes and reached for the jar in pretty much the same moment as Ann whispered at me.
“The jar.”
I poked the glans of my red, swollen cock into the neck of the jar with only a second to spare. Ann did not let up. With rapid short strokes, she alternately pressured and relieved my overstimulated prostate. My cock erupted like a geyser. Waves of orgasm washed over me. A biochemical rush made feel like I was blushing and shivering simultaneously. I was rendered inarticulate.
“Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!” I repeated each time I spurted into the jar.
Ann slowed, but did not stop, her ministrations with the dildo until it appeared that the throes of orgasm had passed. Even then, with the big toy still lodged in my ass, using a free finger, she pressed on my perineum and ran her finger along my urethra on the underside of my cock and expressed one last dollop of semen into the asparagus jar.
Ann took the jar from my unsteady hand and spun a lid on it. By my estimate it contained a tablespoon of white goo. Ann covered up with a sweatshirt and traded her red ‘come fuck me pumps’ for her blue runners, saying she’d be right back. She left me lying spent, thighs restrained, feet in the air with a dildo in my ass.
When I caught my breath some minutes later, I arranged to make myself more comfortable. By the time Ann returned home an hour later, I was clothed again. I felt no trace of horniness for the next several days. I was utterly sated.
Ann told me that Jan had been grateful, but promptly excused herself. Ann had helped Robbie load the turkey baster. Then, Ann had left the girls to their own devices. Ann did not volunteer and I did ask how much she disclosed about the methods by which our sample was procured.
Jan missed her period for a couple months running and began to show a little later. Consequently, I was spared the indignity of another enema on the bathroom rug. Regrettably, though, I was also denied the extreme pleasure of a reprise prostate orgasm induced by my generous, sexy, uninhibited, take-charge wife.
Maybe the little tyke will need a baby brother. Things happen when people cooperate.
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