Ten Year Temptation: Lost Weekend Bliss
3 days ago

My husband, John, and I, Jane, have been married for nearly ten years. We wed in our mid-twenties, enjoying a solid foundation in our life together. The beauty of our relationship lies in our shared faith, consistently guiding us through challenges with divine support. We’ve always been aligned in our convictions, rarely diverging in opinion, despite the inevitable struggles that arise in any marriage. However, our intimate life has been a persistent point of contention. Below is the story of how that shifted dramatically during the spring of 2009 and has continued to evolve since then.
This transformation required concerted effort from both of us. John needed to embrace assertiveness, taking a more active role in our marriage concerning both spiritual and physical matters. He’d been allowing me to lead sexually, avoiding pushing me, which I realized was causing him distress and damaging our connection. It took me a while to grasp the significance of satisfying my husband’s needs, and this realization began with a weekend that I'll recount below.
As I mentioned before, our sex life has never been ideal due to a confluence of factors: long work hours, job-related stress, family issues, personal challenges, and minor medical conditions. Nevertheless, we’ve persevered through these difficulties. I desired to be more actively involved in our sexual life, but my physical and mental limitations made it difficult to achieve that throughout our marriage. There was always an obstacle – lack of interest stemming from other demands, physical limitations, or simply not liking my own body. Approximately nine months ago, John voiced his frustration over our stagnant sexual situation. He expressed his feelings gently but clearly, emphasizing the importance of sex within a marriage. I recognized the vital role of intimacy in maintaining a strong bond, yet I hadn't fully understood the depth of his desire for more. It seemed like empty words rather than genuine intent when I said I would prioritize our sex life. After a week, we fell back into our established patterns of hinting and excuses.
Throughout our marriage, we’ve engaged in playful bets, resolving minor disagreements through friendly competition. We'd wager on football games or other events, with the loser fulfilling a household chore – dishes, laundry, cleaning the basement, etc. We never bet money, only items or tasks. Occasionally, we’d place larger bets, with the winner gaining the right to purchase an expensive item like a new flat-screen television or a necklace. In March of 2009, we made a bet that profoundly altered our lives and, most significantly, our sexual relationship.
I coveted a ring displayed at a local jewelry store. While we could afford it, it felt like an unnecessary indulgence. Nevertheless, the desire for the ring consumed me, and I knew that with the right bet, John would fulfill my wish. He’d been eyeing a new set of golf clubs around the same price, so I proposed a wager: whoever won the upcoming NASCAR race would receive their desired item. He readily agreed, selecting his driver. As fate would have it, I lost, and John emerged victorious. However, instead of claiming the clubs, he requested something entirely different – me for an entire weekend.
This unexpected proposition shocked and intrigued me simultaneously. I informed him that he had won, and he could set the terms, which I accepted without hesitation. I established a few ground rules: no permanent changes (tattoos or piercings) and nothing we morally objected to. He agreed, but I wasn’t overly concerned, assuming he’d simply want me to engage in sex three nights in a row (which I was perfectly capable of doing). We had plans for the next two weekends, so we decided to postpone his weekend by three weeks. We also agreed to skip church on Sunday and “stay in.” At the time, I assumed I needed rest, so that made sense.
The weeks passed quickly, and his weekend drew near. On Tuesday, he informed me that he’d made a reservation for me at a local salon for Wednesday following work. I inquired about the reason behind this sudden appointment. He revealed that he’d booked me for a full waxing service. Waxing? I reminded him that I routinely trimmed my pubic hair every few weeks. He smiled and said, “Honey, I mean a complete wax job – front to back, leaving no hair behind.” I looked at him, tilting my head slightly, and asked, “Why?” He simply smiled, and I understood that he clearly intended to take advantage of the situation.
Wednesday arrived, and the salon staff, while professional, were also meticulous in their work. When they finished, my entire body was smooth and hairless, from my scalp to the end of my tailbone. He’d also paid for a leg and arm wax, so when they were done, I had no hair anywhere on my body below my scalp. When I left, I slipped on a simple bra and knee-length dress, covering my freshly waxed pussy and butt, as the sensitivity in those areas was still quite pronounced. The breeze as I walked out of the salon felt incredibly erotic, brushing against my exposed vaginal lips.
Upon returning home, John asked about my experience. I simply replied, “It was. It was amazing.” We both laughed, and I went back to our bedroom, removing my dress and bra before stepping into the living room in loose sweatpants and a bulky T-shirt. John saw me and said, “Baby, I know it’s not until Friday, but can I see how you look now?” I smiled slightly (still feeling the effects of the breeze) and pulled my sweatpants down to expose my bare crotch, but only up to just above my clitoris. I giggled and said, “You’ll have to wait until Friday to see the rest.” He laughed back and said, “I’ll see a lot more than that on Friday night.” We continued our lighthearted banter as we went to bed. That night, before sleeping, I reached over and tugged on his cock, whispering, “Maybe you can show me a few things this weekend, too.” He chuckled and replied, “I think this weekend will be educational for both of us.”
Thursday unfolded as usual, but as we prepared for bed, John posed a direct question: “Jane, are you up for being at my beck and call for the weekend? Anything within reason, for the entire weekend.” I confirmed that I was, and he eagerly accepted. He then stated that any desires he had would be fulfilled as long as they were within the bounds of our mutual agreement. I felt a little apprehensive, but also strangely excited. He said, “Okay, well when you come home tomorrow night there will be some clothes for you downstairs, where we can head out to dinner.” I smiled and asked, “Oh really?” He nodded and said, “Yep, and I know I’ll like them.” He laughed, and we continued our conversation before settling into bed. It became clear that this weekend would be significantly more intense than I had anticipated.
Throughout Wednesday, my mind raced with anticipation. My work allows for business casual attire, and on Fridays, we have “casual Friday,” so I wore my usual outfit – baggy jeans, a pink polo shirt, a pink cotton bra, and matching bikini briefs. Despite the comfortable clothing, I wondered about the attire he had prepared for me. John had never been involved in my clothing choices before, so this was a new experience. As the clock struck five, I rushed to my car, a damp spot visible on my pink briefs.
Upon arriving home, I immediately went to the coat tree, where a garment bag containing a black dress and a shoe box lay waiting. A sticky note on the garment bag read, “Put on the dress in the bag, the stuff in the box, and the shoes. Your makeup is on the downstairs vanity. Get ready and come upstairs when you are ready to go out to dinner. Remember you are mine this weekend, and I plan to enjoy all of you and it. Love, John.” I quickly unzipped the garment bag and discovered a stunning black dress. It featured spaghetti straps that tied behind the neck, a small zipper in the middle of the back, just above the bottom of my butt, and a short hemline, roughly mid-thigh. The dress hugged my curves tightly, providing ample coverage while leaving my back mostly bare. I held up the dress and realized how perfectly it fit my figure. It was snug around my hips and bottom, and the hemline ensured that the dress wouldn’t ride up. I looked in the mirror and realized that it was both beautiful and somewhat revealing.
I removed the dress, hung it up, and prepared to get ready. I took off my bra and applied the breast petals he’d included in the bag. They looked quite sexy on my nipples and caused a slight shock as they moved freely. I remained topless while completing my basic makeup, then put on the dress and finished my look. I slipped on the heels, a pair of four-inch spike heels, and headed upstairs.
John was waiting in the living room when I emerged, and he immediately noticed the change in my attire. He said, “Jane, I like the dress. It’s a great choice.” I replied, “You have good taste.” He smiled and gestured for me to turn. As I did, he frowned slightly. He said, “Jane, you were told to wear what I gave you. I didn't give you pink briefs.” I scowled and said, “John, I’m going to put on some low-rise briefs before we leave.” He stated, “No, you’re not. You are MINE this weekend. I didn’t tell you to do that, and I didn’t give them to you to wear.” I was surprised by his firmness, as he rarely took such a direct approach. Nevertheless, I complied, and he pulled my dress down, exposing my bare butt over the zipper. He then grabbed my underwear and pulled them off roughly, tossing them to the floor. I stood there momentarily, caught off guard, before returning to my room.
As I slipped into my low-rise briefs, John said, “Come here now.” He pulled me over to him, and he began to stroke my cock as we sat on the couch. He moved quickly, taking his time as he worked on me. After a few minutes, he stopped, stood up, and said, “You look hot. You need to be nude more often. I think you’ll discover that in the next few days.” He gave me a playful wink. He led me downstairs and to the kitchen, where he prepared a platter of sandwich meats, dips, chips, and burgers and sausages. We enjoyed the meal together, and I noticed he was paying close attention to my every move.
After dinner, John said, “Let’s go out for the evening.” We left the restaurant and headed to a private dock near the water. He had prepared a small, makeshift shower setup consisting of a water hose, some 2x4s, and a locking nozzle, mounted about seven feet off the ground. He handed me a small mesh bag containing soap and lotion, and then we sat together in a camp chair, watching the sunset. During this time, I realized that he wanted me to be fully exposed while he relaxed and observed. The breeze was quite cool, but I didn’t mind, as the sensation was quite stimulating.
The next part of the evening involved a striptease, which I found both surprising and exhilarating. I removed my dress and breast petals, leaving me completely nude, and proceeded to go through my motions, feeling quite comfortable in my exposed state. I continued to relax and enjoy the warmth of the sun while he watched.
Finally, after a few hours of sunbathing and conversation, John said, “It’s time to head back. But first, let’s get a little more intimate.” He directed me to the bedroom, where he waited for me. Once there, he removed his shirt and pants, revealing his erect cock. He positioned himself behind me, and we began to make love. The experience was intense, passionate, and unforgettable.
As the night drew to a close, we both felt exhausted and content. After our final encounter, we lay together in bed, savoring the aftermath of our shared pleasure. He whispered, “I expected my morning blowjob at 11 AM tomorrow when you serve me breakfast in bed while you’re only wearing a g-string and heels.” I replied, “What?” He repeated his statement, and I confirmed that I would fulfill his request. The following morning, I rose to meet his expectations, donning the g-string and heels, and serving him a breakfast in bed while he watched. It was an incredible weekend, filled with passion, intimacy, and a newfound appreciation for our dynamic.
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Ten Year Temptation: Lost Weekend Bliss
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