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Message-ID: <63239asstr$1423131034@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "J'onn J'onzz" <mstrhole@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Life of the Mainwarings Chapter 5
Lines: 413
Date: Thu, 05 Feb 2015 05:10:34 -0500
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Please Post

Pamela has some explaining to do and faces consequences.  Can this marriage
survive?  Will Sean forgive her indiscretion?  Does anyone actually care as
long as there's plenty of fucking?

*...all ideologies are totalitarian. *--* Raoul Vaneigem*
<1st attachment, "Life of the Mainwarings Chapter 5.txt" begin>

Life of the Mainwarings Chapter 5: Consequences MF, anal, vaginal, mild
bdsm, spanking

   "Explain what?" Pamela asked in a light tone, trying to avoid the topic
of what had just transpired.  She knew it was a lost cause.

   Sean snorted.  "Yeah, right."

   "Wasn't that intense though?  When was the last time you came that hard?
I'm still all tingly from it," Pamela said.

   "Explain how you ended up in bed with me and Darla.  You've never done
any girl-girl sex in your life - at least none you've ever told me about.
All of a sudden you're going face first between another woman's legs.  She
wasn't even surprised to see you, which suggests that the two of you
weren't strangers.  THAT, among other things, requires an explanation."

   "I didn't hear you objecting."

   "That's not the point.  How did this come about, no pun intended."

   Pamela sighed.  Well, here goes nothing, she thought.

   "I told you about my college roommate?  Sigrid?  The Swedish exchange
student?"

   "Yes, you told me about your college roommate."

   "Remember, I told you how I got drunk a few times and I let Sigrid do
things to me?  Things that felt really good.  I never reciprocated, but I
enjoyed what she did to me.  I passed it off as a drunken fling but for the
past year or so I've begun to play the `what if' game.  What if I HAD
reciprocated?  Would I have enjoyed it?  Had I missed an opportunity to
learn something about my sexuality?"

   "Uh-huh.  So explain how we got from that to what happened here
tonight."

   "Well, you remember Darla's profile, right?  She lists herself as
bisexual.  And, well, when I met her for the initial screening meeting, we
got to talking."

   "And?"

   "Why does there have to be an `and'?"

   "Because there is.  I know you, Pamela.  You're holding something back
and I want to know what it is.  We agreed no secrets."

   "Yes, dear, we did."

   "And?"

   "God, this is hard.  Darla and I had a couple of drinks and we talked
and then we ended up in a hotel room where we, um, did it, while you were
banging that sweet young thing we brought home the first time."

   "So, let me get this straight, no pun intended.  After setting ground
rules stipulating that there would be no secrets, that neither of us would
be fooling around behind the other's back, you went out and fucked another
woman without telling me.  Does that about cover it?"

   "Technically, yes, it does," Pamela replied.  She couldn't look Sean in
the eye.  This had all gone horribly, awfully, wrong.

   "Technically my ass.  You were all worried that because you didn't want
to have sex as much as I did that I'd be out prowling for pussy, so you set
this whole thing up so that I'd get something you thought I wanted and
there would be no secrets.  Now it turns out that I was the one who should
have been worried."

   "Sean...I...I'm sorry.  It wasn't something that I planned.  I just had
to know."

   "Had to know what?"

   "When you lost all that weight and got yourself back into shape you
started wanting to make love to me all the time and I didn't want to.  I
had started thinking about Sigrid and our drunken grope sessions, wishing I
had reciprocated.  It shocked me.  I was worried that the reason I didn't
want to have sex with you several times a day was that I was becoming
attracted to other women.  When I saw Darla's profile and the check box for
bisexual filled in it got me thinking.  Could I be attracted to another
woman?  I wanted to talk to her about it.  Just talk.  I never intended for
anything to come of it.  I just wanted to talk to another woman about these
feelings that I have.  I never intended to hurt you or go behind your back.
I was going to talk to you about it.  But I decided, wrongly as it turned
out, that it might be fun to surprise you with something that most men
would find thrilling.  I'm sorry, Sean.  I really am."

   "So...are you?"

   "Am I what?"

   "A lesbian."

   "How can you ask that after what we just did?"

   "I am asking it."

   "The answer is no.  But I really enjoyed sex with Darla, so I guess that
makes me bi-sexual at any rate."

   "I see," Sean said.  He was silent for a moment.  "So...are you going to
continue to fuck Darla?"

   "There's no need to be so crude, darling," Pamela replied, "but, yes, I
think I'd like to if it's OK with you, that is."

   "So NOW you ask me if it's OK?  You broke our agreement -"

   "I didn't intend -"

   "You broke our agreement," Sean repeated, holding up his hand, "and went
behind my back to have sex with someone else and now you're asking me to
say that was OK.  I remember you telling me that sex outside of our
marriage vows was OK as long as it happened in THIS (he pointed at their
bed) bed, which obviously your little tryst didn't.  You say you didn't
mean to, which has to be the lamest excuse in the history of excuses -
right up there with `gee officer I didn't know the bow and arrow was
loaded' - and now that you've had to confess you think it should just be OK
with me.  Well, it isn't."

   "Sean, please.  Don't be this way.  I wanted to know what was wrong with
me."

   "There was nothing wrong with you.  Sixty year old women don't generally
want to have sex several times a day.  I knew that.  I was perfectly happy
wanking to porn in between the times you and I could make love, and I
wanted you to know that I still desired you after 40 years of marriage. 
Most women would be flattered.  I know it irritated you that I was
constantly pestering you for sex, and I'm sorry about that, but I've never
wanted another woman the way I want you and it never occurred to me to
bring someone else into our bed.  That was your idea."

   "Sean, you're being unfair.  I wanted you to be satisfied.  Wanking to
porn wasn't what I wanted for you.  But, be honest, some of what you were
watching was lesbian porn - Girl Candy, Girlfriends Films - no men in those
videos.  What were you thinking when you watched those women have sex?  You
were turned on - admit it.  You were turned on tonight when you saw me
going face first into Darla's crotch, as you put it, and when she was
eating me you loved it.  Be honest."

   "Honest?  Yes, it turned me on.  Yes I like watching girl-girl porn. 
All that you say is true.  But the central fact here is that you went
behind my back."

   "So, you're saying that if I'd come to you and said, `Sean, I think I
may be attracted to other women, do you mind if I try it on for size,' you
would have said `go for it'?"

   "We could have talked about it.  I would have been involved in the
decision.  We would have shared it, just like when we talked about meeting
Melissa, and later, Darla.  This isn't about you having sex with another
woman, Pamela, it's about you going behind my back to do it."

   They were both silent.

   "You're right, of course, darling," Pamela said at last.  "What can I do
to make this right?"

   "I'll think of something," Sean said.  "You're not getting away with
this without consequences.  Right now though I think we should go to bed.
It's been a long day, we've just had a lot of really vigorous exercise, and
we're both tired."

   "Do you still love me, Sean?"

   "Of course I do, Pamela," Sean said, leaning in and kissing Pamela
lightly on the lips, "I'm just disappointed and hurt."

   "I'm sorry," Pamela whispered, a tear escaping and running down her
cheek.

   "So am I, darling.  So am I."

   Neither of the Mainwarings got much sleep that night.  Sean was quiet in
the morning as he got himself ready for work.  Pamela took his cue and left
him alone as she made her own preparations for the day.  She had a number
of important meetings on her calendar and had already been on the phone
with her assistant, whom she knew was already at the office by 7, reminding
her which papers she needed for which meeting.  It really wasn't necessary
and it was a measure of how distracted she was by the previous evening's
conclusion that she even made the call.

   Sean gave her a perfunctory, obligatory, kiss on the cheek on the way
out the door and was soon gone.  Pamela felt wretched.  Things had all gone
terribly sideways since she came up with her brilliant plan (irony
intended).  She laughed ruefully to herself, got into her car, and headed
into the maelstrom called rush hour.

   Sean, meanwhile, had been doing some thinking.  He knew how badly Pamela
felt - she deserves it!  -- but he was still angry with her.  Still, she
was the love of his life and that was the whole point.  She was all he ever
wanted.  He cursed his newly revived libido for having gotten himself into
this mess.  Maybe if I got fat and out of shape again...  he thought, and
quickly banished the thought.  He was NOT going back to that shapeless blob
of a man he'd become in his fifties.

   He stopped at the gym for a morning workout before heading to the office
freshly showered and ready for the day.  But his mind wasn't completely on
his work and he made several frustrating errors (he caught them right away)
as he contemplated his situation.

   Pamela, for her part, did what she always did.  She was the planner in
the family and the money manager too.  Being a CPA didn't hurt, and having
an MBA didn't hurt either.  She had risen to Corporate Vice President for
New Product Development at the medium sized company she worked for largely
on her organizational and leadership skills.  She was a problem solver,
consensus builder, and big picture thinker - an unusual set of skills for
an accountant.

   As she went through her day, letting her assistant handle many small
matters and giving her attention to the people in her meetings, a part of
her mind worked on what to do about her relationship with Sean.  By three
o'clock she'd come up with a plan.  It was a bit of a gamble, but it just
might work.

   When Sean got home that evening Pamela greeted him at the door with a
freshly made martini.  He kissed her, on auto pilot, took the drink, sipped
it, and said what he always said, "man, that's good booze," a paraphrase on
Jackie Gleason's famous line.

   "How was your day?" Pamela asked.

   "Fine.  Yours?"

   "We roll out our new male grooming line next week.  Today we approved
the final launch details with the marketing team."

   "Cool."

   "Sean...I did a lot of thinking today, and I'm sure you did too, and I
think I have a solution to our problem."

   "Oh?  More internet hook ups?"

   Pamela smiled.  He was still angry.  That was perfect for what she had
in mind.  If only he didn't go too far.

   "No, dear.  I know you're angry with me and that you have valid and
unarguable reasons for being mad."



   "Tell me something I don't know."

   "That's what I'm going to do."

   Pamela got up and walked to where Sean was sitting in his favorite
overstuffed chair with its untidy pile of newspapers next to it, folded her
hands in front of her, and looked down at her feet.

   "Sean, I've been a very bad girl."

   "Yes, you have."

   "I should be punished, don't you think?"

   "Yes," Sean said, drawing the word out as if a sudden thought had
occurred just as he was uttering it.

   Pamela dropped to her knees and put her head on Sean's thighs.

   "Please punish me for being bad, sir," she said, taking a wooden spoon
out from under the chair where she'd hidden it earlier and placing it on
Sean's lap.

   Sean was silent for a long moment.  Pamela could hardly breathe.  This
was it.  He would either do what she planned for him to do and they'd get
past this, or he would get up and walk out, disgusted with her.

   "Stand up, Pamela."

   "Yes, sir," she said, standing, still looking down.

   "Remove your skirt.  Panty hose and panties too."

   Pamela smiled inwardly.  He HAD figured it out.  It was the only way for
him to save face and keep loving her.

   Without a word, she complied, standing in front of Sean naked from the
waist down.  Sean stood, picking up her skirt and removing the belt.

   "Hands behind your back."

   Again, she did what he asked without a word.  He used the belt to secure
her hands, then led her to the sofa where he sat down, pulling her over his
lap, her bare arse pointing at the ceiling.  She heard the whoosh of the
spoon as it traveled through the air and then felt the sharp sting as it
connected with her right buttock.

  
"You've...SMACK...been...SMACK...a...SMACK...very...SMACK...bad...SMACK...g
irl...SMACK..."

   Pamela was crying, half in pain, and half in joy that he was getting his
anger out.  She deserved punishment and she was getting it.  She'd hurt the
man she loved and he was reminding her of his pain.  With ever blow, every
word, she was being cleansed and his anger released.

   "Cunt...SMACK...whore...SMACK...liar...SMACK..." and so on.  Pamela lost
track of the blows.  The pain had receded into an endorphin laced haze; a
sort of runner's high.  Her pussy was wet and her nipples, where they
rubbed against the rough brocade of the sofa, were hard as diamond.  She
was truly and fully aroused and wondered if Sean could tell.  The blows had
stopped, but she didn't notice right away - not until she felt Sean's
gentle touch on her red hot ass.

   "Pamela, you have a red arse and a wet pussy.  You little strumpet...you
enjoyed this, didn't you?  Admit it, you're randy as a goat right now."

   "Y-y-y-es, dear," Pamela admitted through her sobs.

   Sean pushed her off of his lap and onto the thickly carpeted floor. 
Then, he picked her up as if she weighed less than a feather and deposited
her face first over the arm of the sofa.  She heard his zipper go down and
the next thing she felt was his hard cock splitting her pussy wide open as
it barged through the gates demanding full entrance.

   He didn't say anything.  His cock did the talking, and he fucked Pamela
brutally, slapping her sore arse cheeks for emphasis.  Pamela's tears were
flooding her cheeks as the combination of pain and pleasure took her to a
place she'd never been; never even knew existed.  To say that she came
would be a gross understatement.  The sexual apotheosis she experienced was
like nothing she could ever have imagined.

   For his part, Sean felt the difference and it drove him to increase the
ferocity of his assault.  He saw that she had laid out some Italian bread
and olive oil on the coffee table.  He reached down and took the oil, which
he applied to her asshole, after which he poked first one and then two
fingers through the resistance of her anal sphincter.

   "S-s-s-s-ean...my....ass?  Please, no, not there," Pamela begged knowing
it was no use.

   Sean pulled out of Pamela's sucking pussy with a plop and poured oil
onto his cock, which he fisted and then placed at the entry to Pamela's
back door.

   "Whores get spanked and then get fucked in the ass," was all he said
before he leaned in and pressed the head of his cock through the well
lubricated but very tight ring of muscle guarding Pamela's colon.

   "Ohhhhhhhhh.....gaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwd," Pamela groaned as she felt him
taking her last piece of virginity.  It hurt, but, she was being punished
and she bore it stoically.  He was relentless, not stopping until his balls
rested against her gaping pussy, rubbing pleasurably against her stiff
clitoris.

   He gripped her by her bound wrists and began pulling his cock back until
only the head was inside her sphincter.

   "AAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE," Pamela shouted as he slammed his full length
and girth into her guts, using her own wrists for leverage.

   Again and again he violated her ass hole and after about the fifth
stroke she began to transition from pain and humiliation into pleasure just
as she had with the spoon on her arse.  She came, explosively, screaming,
as Sean fucked her violently with short powerful strokes.

   "SSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEAAAAAANNNNNN," she screamed,
"IIIIIIILLLLLLOOOOOOVVVVVEEEEE YYYYYYOOOOOOUUUUUU!"

   She felt his cock become even harder, as if that were possible, and
begin to jerk inside her rectum.  She was soon filled to the brim with his
warm essence which flooded from his balls like a swollen stream bursting a
dam.  He grunted his pleasure like an animal at the rut.  When he was
through he pulled his cock from her now sore and enflamed bottom and
released her wrists.  He pulled her upright and turned her into his arms
and kissed her.  She kissed him back.  He licked the tears from her face.

   "Am I forgiven," she asked, her voice shaky.

   "Yes, darling, but I think you enjoyed that, didn't you?"

   "Yes, Sean, I did, even though it hurt terribly."

   "I have the feeling that you will be bad from time to time and need
further correction."

   "I have the feeling you're right."

   "Let's go take a shower and then we'll discuss your future disobedience
over dinner."

   "Yes, dear."
   And so they did.

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