Before I met Kate, I never would've imagined treating a woman so roughly. But as we were dating, during what we now call our courting period, we came to understand what made the other tick. I told her that I liked things done a certain way, that I liked more structure in my life. I'm not compulsive obsessive, or freakish about things not going my way. But I'm selfish about my pleasures, and I love sex in all its forms. But nothing ruins it for me more than begging or even asking for it.

To my delight, Kate agreed. She too liked a lot of structure in her life, and often felt bewildered by the many roles women are forced to play in modern society. Indeed, a man taking her and using her only enhanced her pleasure. And the rougher I did it, the better she liked it. When she yelled "Harder, harder!" during sex, she really meant it.

In the four years we've been married, we've explored a whole gamut of sexual expression. Kate has proven that she has a very high tolerance for pain. And that the Nineties life we've chosen to lead is the right one for her. I count myself as lucky to have found a woman who shares my beliefs, not to mention one as beautiful and sexy as Kate.

Transferring my attention back to her slit, I wiggle the finger entrenched in her trench, then use my other fingers to part her pussy lips. The moisture's beginning to build, but she's still not wet enough for my taste. Mind you, I could pull open her legs and fuck her any time, whether she's ready or not. Sometimes she's dry as a bone when I stick my dick inside her. It's just that this time I'm looking forward to the exquisite pleasure of my cool cock plunging into a hot, wet pussy.

Without warning, I flick on the reading light that's attached to the bedpost. Before me lays my Kate, her hair disheveled, her eyes blinking from the light, her body tensely anticipating another brutal incursion. A light sheen of sweat has begun to gather between her tits, and the area around the nipple I've been playing with is an ugly red. The sheer material of the babydoll is pushed up around her neck. And the g-string is still only partially undone, hiding more than it reveals. I take it all in hungrily. My cock hardens even more at the feeling of control that sweeps me. When her eyes adjust to the light, she looks at me with annoyance. I don't know why she's annoyed. At being awakened at one? At my rough handling of her tits? At not fucking her right away? I don't care. This is all about my pleasure.

In response, I grab her boob again, squeezing it hard in my hand. The soft flesh puckers out between my fingers, and as I hold and squeeze harder it balloons upward, forming a knob. Yanking my other hand from her cunt, I slap it down hard on this boob knob, spanking it with the palm of my hand. Kate yelps each time, then moans as I lean over and take the engorged nipple in my mouth. I can suck on her nipples for hours on end, and have done so on many occasions. Kate has orgasmed just from this stimulation, too, although that's not usually my primary motive. I lick, nip and chew on her brown nub, before squeezing as much of her tit into my mouth as I can. That's another game I play, just for the heck of it.

Releasing her tit, I watch with satisfaction as it quickly retakes its former voluptuous shape. Sometimes, just for fun, I'll have her wear a push-up bra under a tanktop, and then take her to the mall or some other crowded place. Then I just watch the faces of the other men as we parade around. We've even watched some couples start fighting over their husband's roving eyes. A Nineties couple would never fight over that. I can look at, and do, whatever I want.

Placing my hand back between her legs, I say my first words of the night, "Wife, strip." With those two words I've established her role for the evening. When I call her "wife" she knows that she's to do only what I tell her. Her own pleasure is of no import tonight. And by telling her to strip, it means that I've got no set plans; I'm just following my curiousity and whims. If I said "Honey, show me how much you love me," that would be her clue to use her imagination to get me off, whether it's a striptease, a blowjob or anything else. "Let me show you how much I love you" is a clue that I'll be ministering to her needs for a while. If I said, "I'm gonna fuck your brains out," it's a good compromise. I'll do what I want and she works to help me along. The ultimate way to address her is "Slave," which tells her that she must be completely submissive and fearful, and that I'm probably in the mood to try something new.

It takes only a few moments for her to remove the top and bottom, leaving her naked and open to any of my urges. Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. She knows that I can and will do anything to her that I want. She can see that my cock is now fully engorged, a drop of pre-cum gleaming on the tip. It's a cock she knows intimately. One day I made her suck and lick it for four straight hours. She's worn my cum on every part of her body, and its taste is as familiar to her as any food.

"Spread your legs," I order. She expects me to start there, but I only want to test the waters and see if she's primed. "Put your fingers in and see how wet you are," I tell her, watching intently as she quickly follows my instructions. Using one hand to part her pussy lips, she dips one and then two fingers into her cunt, her long fingernails spearheading the mission. When she pulls them out I can see her juices glistening in the light. As she sucks her wetness from her fingers, I dip my own hand in, pleased to find that she's not only soaking but also hot as an oven.