The Truth

I don?t know how we got to this point in our relationship but the truth is ?Well, let me just start by explaining, about me, about my husband and our relationship.It all started about five years ago. We met on a single?s holiday to Turkey. It was one of those arranged group holidays and we kind of hit it off from day one. We had the same sense of humour, cracked the same jokes, drank the same kind of beers and cocktails and liked the same sort of food and activities. One thing led to another and with only five days of our holiday left we found we liked the same kind of sex too. We certainly made the most of it.By the time we got back home, we had exchanged contact details and we started seeing each other. I was from the good old City of London and he was from the Norfolk countryside; a farmer. That?s what people do in the flatlands of Norfolk. They get up at the crack of dawn, farm the land, read books on farming and drive tractors before they crash into bed at dusk.Exciting isn?t it?I?m from London. I work as a projects officer. I travel to work on the tube, often getting squashed by people on all sides of me with hands and elbows pressing into my buttocks and breasts. I work hard and play hard. My colleagues and I often go for drinks at the end of the working week before catching the tube home to my wonderful pad in North London. I?ve even fucked one of them once when I got a little too drunk and asked that he take me home. He did. He never left that night but I made him promise to never speak of it. I meet all sorts of people in the pubs and clubs that I frequent with friends. Occasionally I become wanton and lusty and often find myself craving clubs that deal out punishment often while being tied by my hands. I have to say, I love the feeling that bondage instills in me.I?m not a raving nymphomaniac, far from it, but when the urge hits me I have to satisfy my needs. There are no two ways about it.So why would I get hung up on a guy from Norfolk? What made me want to see him once I got back from holiday? Well, he was very considerate, he was good, he was attractive, he made me smile and so we entertained a few dates. Six months further down the line he proposed and I was so happy that someone wanted me ? I said yes.Then the main problem hit us square on. I felt foolish, like a naive schoolgirl. I wanted to live in London, he wanted to stay with the farm. Six months of stupid arguments are quite a long time bahis siteleri for anyone to endure. But the more time I spent visiting his farm the more I got to like it. It was a breath of fresh air to live in the countryside and I started spending more time on his farm than in my flat. And the sex was still good. At least I was getting it which is more than can be said for a lot of people.I even had this crazy idea that a farm would be the best place to experience bondage and spanking as it wouldn?t matter how loud you screamed. Farmhouses were also big, enough place for a room dedicated to the dark arts. Norfolk became attractive to me.I nearly got caught out one weekend when he texted me that he was on the train and coming down to stay the weekend with me. The first thing that went through my head was ?what the fuck! No.? it was a Friday evening and I had arranged a quiet weekend at home. In truth, I had arranged an unquiet weekend at one of the BDSM clubs close to where I live. I couldn?t wait to turn up there in my leather gear and get paddled. I craved it. I was already dressed in the basque when his text came through. Those words hurt the most, already on the train, there was no talking him out of it. I got undressed, dressed in some casual clothes and went to meet him at the station.We made love. Quiet, uneventful, casual, love! Yes, he was so tender and loving. Too much, actually. My mind kept jumping to where it should have been that night and it wasn?t with him. But, it was only one weekend, there would be others. I told myself ? it?s not the end of the world.Then he proposed. I said, yes. The wedding wasn?t a complicated affair. I never wanted that and besides my parents had died early in my life and my only sister was away with the fairies somewhere in Australia. We never communicated and I don?t know why. I gave up my job and moved into the farmhouse. I was his wife; a kept woman.The farmhouse was serene for most of the time, lonely for others. I spent a lot of time doing chores that farmer?s wives do. In between the masturbation sessions that occurred daily. Yes, sex had gone downhill slightly. Tiredness had set in and the occasional weekends that we spent in London was now a distant memory. The use of dildos and vibrators that could attach themselves to the bath, shower cubicle or doorframe and bedposts became everyday activities.I started making bread, chutney and jam and started to become a canlı bahis siteleri real farmer?s wife.We made love twice a week. A far cry from the fifteen times on a weekend when I visited him or he visited me. Most of that was my doing though. I just loved sex. He loved lovemaking.Tender kisses and slow sensual sex is alright. A woman needs that now and then, but not all the time. Not when you crave a good hard fucking from behind. He never spanked me. Well, that?s not entirely true, he did spank when I asked him to but it was such a gentle slap. It didn?t provide the energy for you to get into it. I only asked the once, though he did do it once more when we were in the shower together. That was unexpected and I enjoyed it but the force was just too weak.My body was showered with kisses from head to toe, breast to breast, nipple to nipple and my pussy was covered in sweet kisses and the gentle lapping of his tongue before he eased his cock into me to make sweet gentle love. It all consisted of nice slow, long strokes and ended in a satisfying grunt, for him. For me, well, I think you know my feelings by now.Of course, he gave me orgasms; lots of them as it happens, but they weren?t as intense as Mr Dildo and Mr Vibe and he certainly didn?t pay my little brown ring any attention at all. It is such a contrast to Mr Dildo who just loves that hole.We?ve been married for three years and yesterday he suggested we should try for children, ?little ones? as he put it. I sighed and looked out of the window as his enthusiasm bounded around the kitchen like a collie dog in the middle of a pack of sheep.I thought of my bath time, the masturbation sessions on my bed or against the shower room walls, the slow fucks on the sofa in the early evening before he falls asleep and I end up doing the cooking, my occasional trips to London, the Amazon man that visits every Friday, the vicar?s wife that wants me to help her with Palm Sunday and George that runs the local pub.I thought of the shattered stillness of our lives and the further restrictions on my sex life. I thought - NO!So, the truth is ?I?m not all that happy. I?ve done things I shouldn?t have done. I?ve lied to him and I know that?s wrong. But what?s a girl to do!Like a game of Cluedo, it all started with Mr Dildo, in the shower room. I got accused of not rushing out of bed one morning to help him with something that was unimportant to me. I was questioned as canlı bahis to why I spent so long in the shower. I didn?t answer him truthfully, I told him that I loved the hot water on my skin and I had lots of things to wash; my two larger than life breasts being the most important.The truth is ? that Mr Dildo sticks to the shower room wall very well indeed and is more than satisfying. The number of times he prodded at my anus was reassuring and he never once told me how dirty it was or how we should make love instead of fuck. No, Mr Dildo fucked the living daylights out of me.Things just progressed from there.Mr Vibe came along courtesy of LoveHoney along with some nice lingerie (for him) and some nipple clamps that I could hang from the door frame. I used to spend a good few hours suspended by them when the urge hit me. I would put them on, carefully, before letting my weight pull my nipples upwards until it hurt. I would play with my pussy on full stretch and revel in those mixed feelings of pain and pleasure. When the time was right I?d drop myself to my knees tearing the clamps off my nipples and pushing my body into a massive orgasm.Mr Vibe was normally used as soon as my husband had got out of bed for work. I always considered five in the morning to be rather an ungodly hour. But when he left for work, I used to slide my hand into the bottom drawer and pull out Mr Vibe. I used to let him slide between my buttocks with his soulful tune on high before showing him the wet spot between my thighs. Fuck he was horny and he kept on wanting more and more all the time.Even during the afternoon, Mr Vibe would insist I put some stockings on and stand by the window of the bedroom and let him play with me.The truth is ?It wasn?t long before Mr Dildo joined in with our little games even on the kitchen table. That was when I got caught. Thankfully it wasn?t by my husband. I was pleasuring myself with Mr Vibe playing on my nipples. I was sitting on the beechwood chairs, my feet on the table and the Mr Dildo up my arse. I didn?t hear the knocking at the front door. I hardly heard the tap, tap, tap on the kitchen window with the noise the vibrator was making. It was the movement out of the corner of my eye that caught my attention. It was Mr Amazon man with a parcel for me. He pointed to it, and then to me. I had never felt so exposed not even in the BDSM clubs that I used to frequent and when he stayed glued to the window watching me, I had no option but to extract myself from Mr Dildo and let it wobble there as I got up from the chair.I answered the door in a one-piece T-shirt that did little to hide my shaved pussy or my aroused and protruding nipples.