Date: Sat, 15 Oct 2022 10:24:02 -0400
From: Natty <bacteriaburger@gmail.com>
Subject: Tradhusband

Tradhusband
By Natty Soltesz

I knew my husband came from a conservative background, so it wasn't
entirely a surprise when, before I took his hand in marriage, he said he'd
expect me to do the cooking and cleaning. But then he said I would need to
quit my job.

It was important for him to be the provider, he said. We each had a role in
the marriage, and if it was going to work out, I had to understand that he
was in charge. The man of the house.

"But we're both men," I said, and he gave me this look that made me
blush. We both knew our roles in the bedroom. And, honestly, hearing him
say it- that I would devote my life to him, and follow his rules - made my
heart flutter and my hole twitch.

So I did it: quit the career I'd happily pursued for the last six
years. The wedding ceremony was beautiful. Most of Greg's relatives came,
some more enthusiastic than others to witness our union.

That first night - our honeymoon - being in Greg's arms felt different. The
way he held me was firmer - like he owned me, now. I liked how that felt.

Today it's our first-year anniversary, and I'm in the kitchen preparing
Greg's favorite meal. I'm naked but for my apron. One thing I hadn't
realized before we got married was how much my husband would expect of me
sexually. I'd always gravitated toward the submissive role, but my marriage
changed me in ways I never expected.

Greg sighs when he opens the front door. I put my oven mitts on the counter
and come out to greet him. He looks hungry.

"Hi, babe," I say. Greg doesn't smile. I give him a peck on the lips. He
hesitates, then wraps his arm around my waist and, in one fast motion,
pulls me into him and shoves his tongue in my mouth. I moan and his hand
goes lower, to cup my bare ass which is draped with my apron strings. He
pushes his finger into the crevice of my ass, finding my hole which I've of
course prepared for him. Greg always expects me to be ready.

"Oh!" I moan. Greg pushes a second finger inside before he releases
me. He's still not smiling.

I smooth out my apron but it's not hiding my erection. "Rough day?" I say,
and Greg ignores the question as he sets down his briefcase and loosens his
tie. "Dinner's almost ready," I say as Greg sits on his favorite chair. I
kneel before him. He sighs as I remove his shoes from his tired feet. "Want
a beer?"

Greg grunts. My hard-on bounces as I head to the kitchen. I can feel my
husband's eyes on my ass and get a twinge of fear. Greg can be rough when
he's had a hard day. The thought makes my cock leak against my apron.

When I come back to the living room Greg has his pants down around his
thick, hairy thighs and his big cock is throbbing in his lap. I take in my
breath and hand him his beer. He looks at it, then shoves it back toward
me. "Sorry, babe," I say, and pull the tab on the can before handing it
back.

I get on my knees again. Greg likes me to start on his balls. They're musky
and sweaty. I take in the smell of them as I suck them into my mouth. My
husband's beautiful rod rests against my face as I clean off his big, round
baby-makers. With another grunt, I know he's ready for me to take his cock
into my mouth. I wrap my lips around my husband's perfect penis and begin
to take it down my throat. Greg doesn't like to be teased - he wants a
traditional blowjob, mouth only, no stroking. I dutifully suck my husband's
cock just like he enjoys, taking it deep and being careful about my
teeth. My apron has risen and I know it will please him to see my
spread-wide ass.

I lose track of time as I suck him and almost miss the ding of the oven
timer. Dinner is ready. I stand up and head to the kitchen, looking into
the oven with some fear that I may have burnt the potatoes, but all seems
well. Which is good because, if I had burned dinner, Greg would surely
punish me for it.

I put the meal I've lovingly prepared on the table. Greg has taken his
place at the head of the table and, though I can't see it, I'm sure his
cock is still hard and throbbing. I make sure that he has everything he
needs before I remove my apron and sit down to eat. But I only get in a few
bites before Greg glares at me and pushes back from the table to reveal his
still-exposed hard-on.

I put down my fork and knife and crawl under the table. As Greg cuts into
his steak I continue to suck his cock. Slow and steady, taking my time as
he eats. Yes, I'm hungry, but somehow that hunger is sated by my husband's
powerful cock. So I stay under the table as Greg finishes his meal, sucking
him deeply and working hard to please him. When he takes his last bite of
steak, he holds my head down on his cock. It chokes me as he cums, and he
holds fast to my head so I can't move. I swallow every drop. Greg makes
sure that I do.

My dinner is cold but I'm no longer hungry, so I clean up and put away the
leftovers as Greg watches the news and has another beer.

I'm elbow-deep in dishwater when my husband comes up behind me. Yes, I
think, it must have been a hard day for him, because he's already hard
again, and I feel him press it against my ass.

He slides his hand up to feel my body. Greg likes me to be fit, but not too
muscular - lithe. I'm expected to keep my ass as tight, round, and ready
for him as possible. My husband regularly inspects my body from stem to
stern to make sure I'm keeping myself up to his standards.

Greg wets a finger in his mouth and shoves it inside of me. I try to stifle
my gasp. He spits in his palm and applies that to his cock. I brace myself
against the sink as Greg rears up behind me and pushes himself inside of me
- all the way to the hilt in one, intense thrust.

I try not to make any sounds - Greg likes for me to stay silent. I continue
my chore, washing more dishes as Greg takes me from behind. My cock is
leaking against our newly-refinished cabinet doors as Greg grabs my hips
and begins to pound into me with purpose.

I can feel his excitement increasing. He's surely looking at the way his
big cock splits my hole open. It's his hole, to use when and wherever he
wants. I scrub pans as he slaps my ass, groaning as he fucks harder. He
wraps his hands around my neck, his grip tightening as he closes in on his
climax. My breath begins to constrict and it's all I can do to continue
washing dishes as Greg slams deep into me, holding steady as his cock
swells and deposits his seed.

He pulls out and walks away, up to his study where he will remain until
bedtime. My hands are still in the dishwater. I'm tired from a long day of
housework, and for a moment I feel outside of myself. I have a memory that
pops up from time to time, just of a successful presentation I gave, with a
former colleague and friend. I remember the way I felt, then; before I
became Greg's husband. But the harder I try to hold that image of myself
the further it recedes, and then I wonder why I was trying to hold onto it
in the first place.

Pt 2

It's Sunday morning and my husband and I are at church. I look around at
the other parishioners - mostly straight couples, some of whom glare at
Greg and I. There are enough tolerant folks here to keep us coming back,
and at any rate our relationship with God is the most important thing. At
least, that's what my husband says.

Greg glances at me and I snap my attention back to the pastor, who is
sermonizing about the importance of giving back to God just a fraction of
what He gives to us. Greg grabs my thigh and squeezes, hard. When we're out
in public I know not to let my attention wander, especially not toward
other men. Greg feels strongly about that.

So I hone in on Pastor Carl, who is young and handsome and speaks with
conviction about his love for Christ. When the sermon is over the parish
rock band tears into a soaring anthem that gets us all swaying on our
feet. Greg puts his arm around me and pulls me into him. I feel him slide
his hand down the back of my pants and, quickly, his fingers dip into the
crevice of my ass. I'm bare under my pants, per Greg's stipulations, and my
hole is clean and smooth. Greg pushes his finger into me and I hold my
composure. Just as quickly as he's inserted it he takes it out, and I
glance around to see if anyone noticed. One person - an older woman named
Milly who has never seemed to care for us - frowns at me and shakes her
head.

As the congregation files into the lobby Greg takes any opportunity to grab
my ass and press himself against me. It makes me nervous, but I am always
to bend to his will. Greg has explained to me, time and again, that he is
like God to me, in that I am his property, to be used as he wishes.

Even still, I feel flustered by the time we make our way to where Pastor
Carl stands, greeting parishioners with his beautiful wife and three
children. Pastor Carl shakes Greg's hand with both of his. They are close
and regularly spend time together outside of church - doing what I'm not
sure, but then it isn't my place to know.

I try not to admire Pastor Carl's strong neck and fit body. He wears
sneakers and jeans, and his haircut is hip and modern. Before Greg ushers
us away I share a smile with Pastor Carl's wife. There's a connection
there, a sense of shared responsibility toward our husbands. I wonder if
Pastor Carl is as sexually rampant as Greg.

Back home we barely get in the door before Greg is pulling off my clothes
and fucking me over the sofa. He pushes my face into the couch cushion and
I feel him filling me up with cum. For a moment I have a vision of Pastor
Carl doing the same thing to me, which is startling and scary because I
should only be fantasizing about my husband. But I remind myself that our
Pastor is a man of God and, therefore, I would do whatever he asked. The
thought makes me cum without touching myself, which Greg thankfully doesn't
notice. It takes me a good hour to get the stain off the couch and I curse
myself for not having more self control.

***

Later that week Greg informs me we'll be having a guest for dinner. I feel
frustrated - I hadn't planned on a guest when preparing dinner, and I'll
have to stop back at the store right then if I am to have time to shower
and prepare for Greg before he gets home.

But I'm ready by the time Greg comes home with our guest, who I'm somehow
not surprised to see is Pastor Carl. As we eat I sense something in the
pastor's demeanor.  "Such a handsome husband you have, Greg," Pastor Carl
says. "And this meal is delicious." I smile and say thank you. Greg just
nods.

When we've finished I begin to clean up, as normal, but Greg stops me. As
Pastor Carl stands in the doorway, gazing at me, my husband instructs me to
go upstairs and prepare myself. And suddenly, I understand.

"But, Greg..." I say, and my husband stops me. He says that the pastor has
needs that only I can meet. Needs his wife can't meet. A need to fuck hard,
deep, and raw.

I have a moment of panic as I prepare and shower, thinking of the vow I
made to God, to be true to my husband, his and his alone. Still, I think,
that vow was to honor and obey, and how could anyone deny that that is what
I'm doing? A warm numbness flows over me like the water cascading down my
fit body. I think of Pastor Carl and what he might do to me, and my cock
rises with the shower steam.

My heart is fluttering as I prepare myself in the bedroom, stripping nude
and presenting myself on all fours with my ass spread.

"Praise God," Pastor Carl say in his deep voice when he opens the door and
sees me. Greg is behind him. "You're a lucky man," Pastor Carl says as I
hear him strip off his clothes. When he's nude, he and Greg lay their hands
on me and Carl says a prayer, thanking God for that which he is about to
receive.

My husband leaves the room. Pastor Carl asks me to look upon him. He's
naked and beautiful - all tan skin and gym-built muscle, with tattoos
covering his arms and legs. His cock is shaved and hard and hanging heavily
from his body. I note that it is slightly larger than my husband's.

He has me look at him for a while, and then presents to me what he calls
"the sacrament," holding out his dripping cock for me to take in my
mouth. I moan in deep satisfaction as I take it down my throat, eyes
watering as I look up at Carl, who gazes down at me. I suck on his balls,
full of holly seed. Then Pastor Carl begins to fuck my throat with slow,
deep thrusts, murmuring praise for the sweet tightness of my throat and
beautiful body.

Then, he roughly puts me back in my place. Spits on my hole, lines his cock
up with it and shoves it home. I make a garbled scream and Pastor Carl
leans his tight body on top of my back, wrapping his strong hands around my
neck as he begins to fuck. "Take the sacrament, do it for God," he says as
every inch of his thick, raw dick stretches me out like my husband's never
has.

I'd assumed that Carl would just get his needs met: fuck me till he cums
then pull out, like my husband does on a daily basis. A rut to meet his
needs, to seed and breed so he can clear his mind and focus again on
providing for our family. But the Pastor is different. He puts me in
different positions - on all fours where he can slap my ass and pull my
hair as he fucks, on my back so I can gaze at him, unbroken. He speaks
through God as he rails me, explaining that He made our bodies to receive
pleasure or, in my case, to give it.

Carl summons my husband into the room an hour later and the two of them
fuck me well into the night. They trade off, using both of my holes, and
seem to go into an ecstatic state, our minds elevating to some other plane
as they fuck me into oblivion.

"Are you ready to receive God?" Pastor Carl asks as he fucks me on my
back. My husband straddles my face, stuffing it full of his cock then
pulling out to allow me to focus on the Pastor.

"Yes. Praise God!" I say and Pastor Carl holds my ankles as he rams his rod
into me and unloads. He pumps his seed deep in me and I feel the glow of it
spread through me. Greg goes next, and Pastor Carl holds my head in his lap
as Greg rails me more passionately than he ever has. Pastor Carl whispers
in my ear, telling me how grateful I should be, that he's chosen me to be a
vessel for him, for my husband, for God. My husband cums, then collapses on
top of me. Pastor Carl takes Greg's chin in his hand and brings their lips
together. I watch them kiss passionately. Greg has never kissed me like
that. But the glow I have from our communion is too powerful to ignore, and
I weep a little - with gratitude, I'm sure - for the blessings that have
been bestowed upon me.


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