JimBob Gets Pegged -- And Likes It

My head was like a storm breaking, I was that mad as I wheeled our big old Jeep Cherokee up into our driveway. And that's when the unfortunate little accident happened, and how the whole neighborhood got to know about JimBob's impending ass-pegging.
Well, maybe that part wasn't such a bad thing after all, that all our neighbors got to know my lying, philandering husband was in for a hard pegging that evening. I had put his cheating cock in time out after I found he was screwing that silly little bit of fluff at his office, Jen, blonde, big-titted, could hardly chew gum and walk at the same time. When I found out JimBob's big old piece of meat, which belonged to me exclusively as his lawfully wedded wife, had been inside that bimbo's pussy, I saw hot red stars explode in front of my eyes. Mad does not describe it.
After I found the receipt for that motel room, a daytime stay of two hours -- and our whole backwater town knows exactly what goes on there -- I had it out with him, heard his sob story about how he just couldn't help himself, a hard dick has no conscience and blahblah, and it was time out for JimBob. Cock time out. No fucking until I said so. My pussy was off-limits till further notice.
No cock cage or anything like that. I honestly don't think he'd have survived having that long, thick pecker of his caged up for a week or longer. I don't think there's a day in JimBob's life after hair began to grow around that thing that he hasn't either jacked it off or fucked with it -- and after we said our vows I made it crystal clear to him the only pussy getting fucked by that big pussy pleaser was mine. It was my cock, the cock whose job had been designated by marriage vows to keep my greedy cunt happy. Shutting that big old piece that loved so much to root inside a wet love hole -- my love hole, I intended to remind him -- up in a cage just would not have worked. Getting hard was who JimBob was and what JimBob did, day in, day out, about every hour of the day and night. As I say, he might well not have survived if that supersized meatstick tried to get hard in a little cage.
It was punishment enough to tell him he couldn't put it in me until I told him his cock was out of time out, until he had worked that bimbo and her hot little cheating coochie out of his system. And he absolutely was not allowed to take it out and tease it, stroke it, play with it, jerk it, beat it, pleasure it, oil it up, spit on it, jack it. All he was permitted to do with that thing until I gave him permission was piss with it -- and that only when absolutely necessary. I intended to keep close watch on him, and I told him there'd be consequences, and not pretty ones, if he did anything to pleasure that dick in any way until it was out of time out.
His big pecker was going to feel the punishment, and not letting JimBob fuck a horny hot cunt or beat off for a week or more was about the biggest punishment anyone could dish out to him. That man just plain WAS his big old cock that he claimed had no conscience and couldn't help liking every wet pussy it happened to sniff.
So that's why I put on a big pair of sunglasses and a broad-brimmed sunhat, tied a scarf around my head,and drove out to that sex store on the outskirts of our little town after I put JimBob's cock in time out. I didn't want anyone to recognize me going into that place. I knew from Betty Sue and Mabel in my recipe swap group I could buy whatever naughty items I needed there, toys and "aids" those gals kept hidden under their mattresses to use while their hubbies were at work, and, in Betty Sue's case, one she used on Ralph, that limp-dicked excuse of a man she called husband. When we got together to have a bloody Mary or two and pass around the latest recipe for shrimp enchiladas and tomato soup cake, they'd giggle and whisper about the latest novelty they'd picked up out at the Kum'NGo Adult Emporium, and how it had tickled them in a way their sorry men never managed to do, or, in Ralph's case, gave him an unexpected tickle of his own he hadn't counted on when Betty Sue used it on him.
She didn't give details, but I suspected, and I could tell the other gals did, too, that Betty Sue had introduced Ralph to the world of pegging and she and Ralph had been surprised to find how much he enjoyed it. I had learned about that world only recently. I could also tell that a number of our group members were tucking that pegging idea away in their heads as the next round of bloody Marys came out, and were thinking of giving it a whirl sometime and seeing how their husbands liked a dildo up their asses with their wives fucking them.
So that's where I got the idea: after putting JimBob's big dick in time out, I drove right out to that sex shop as mad as an old wet hen and bought the biggest strap-on cock I could find. His dick had gone into time out and he was forbidden to fiddle with it, but as long as his misbehavior had put me in a situation where my horny pussy couldn't get relief bahis şirketleri from that big pussy pleaser, he was going to get a taste of what being fucked felt like -- and maybe that would grow some conscience in that pecker.
JimBob was going to get pegged.
Here's how I had learned what pegging was, and why I knew what Betty Sue was talking about when she talked about her toy for Ralph: just a few weeks earlier, I'd picked up a dirty magazine JimBob, of all people, had left lying around the house, and read about this pegging thing, how it's done and what you need to accomplish it, what it does for you and might do for him. I was intrigued and decided I'd like to try it out -- and now I had the perfect reason to try it on JimBob. I'd be the one doing the fucking for a change, and after JimBob had fucked up, his ass needed to be fucked with me as the fucker, and maybe he'd learn what it feels like to fuck up and also to get fucked. Learn to be a better man. Not take me and my pussy for granted.
I also saw in that magazine that men can actually get off on being pegged, having their prostate stimulated, and I was curious to find out if JimBob might be one of those men. The article said that men could sometimes shoot, often a really big load, just from being pegged right and not even having their cocks touched. If his cock was off-limits to him and to me, maybe I could give him a bit more torment by getting him really worked up when I reamed his ass with the big simulated cock I intended to buy, and then let him live with what it felt like to be sexually unsatisfied -- as he was making me now that his cock was in time out.
Kum'Ngo had just the large strap-on I needed: thick, made to look like the real thing, with an impressive peckerhead that would stretch JimBob's butthole out good and proper. It came with instructions for strapping it on, hints for ways I could get my horny cunt and clit involved in the action as I fucked him, things like that. This was going to be plain fun, and I was going to be the one getting all of the fun for a change.
I bought two of them, both in black, in case I wore one of them out fucking his sorry ass to here and beyond. One of them had a vibrating feature that I thought would be fun to use.
And it's those two big strap-on cocks that caused the unfortunate little accident I mentioned earlier, which happened when I wheeled into the driveway after my shopping expedition to Kum'NGo. I was fit to be tied, as I've told you, fuming mad at JimBob for what he'd done and was making me do, distracted, and, I'll tell you the honest truth, also more than a little curious about what was going to happen when I strapped that dick on and pegged JimBob. I was distracted thinking about that and, yes, I don't mind telling you, doing so had gotten my needy pussy hot, bothered, and wet.
Then as I whirled into our driveway and braked, who should be there sticking his nose over the hedge between his house and ours except goddamned old nosy Zeb Cartwright, pretending to water his sorry shrubs but really trying to sniff out information about what was going on with JimBob and me. He had picked up somehow on how mad I was, figured JimBob played a major role in getting me worked up, and the nosy old sombitch was hot to figure out what was going on.
Zeb Cartwright was not only a nosy old bastard, but a horny one, too. Never did yard work in anything but a pair of skin-tight shorts way too small for him, which showed off a big bulge that he wanted me and the other wives and widows in the block to get a good look at. Hell, for all I know, he was showing it off for JimBob and the neighborhood men, too. For a man in his sixties, I will say this about him: he kept himself in good shape and I didn't mind a bit that he never put a shirt on when he was prancing around in this skin-tight shorts. Annoying as all get out, sure; but eye candy at the same time, and Mama does like her candy.
Every other word out of the old coot's mouth was dirty innuendo, smutty trash talk. He'd say things like, "If JimBob's not giving you all the help you need, I hope you remember old Zeb's right next door and can help you anytime you need help." Pretending to talk about, oh, screwing in burned-out lightbulbs, but making it perfectly obvious it was another kind of screwing he wanted to talk about.
He'd talk about tools he had lying around to give me any help I needed, one big tool in particular, and how he could bring it over and help me if JimBob wasn't around to help and I needed a big tool -- shit like that. Sometimes he'd try to get even more graphic, with leering comments about how he knew JimBob must have a big tool to help me out, too, since he sometimes heard me shouting out to JimBob through our bedroom window about how much I liked what his big tool was doing to me. But he knew there were times that JimBob was away on business trips, and maybe I needed a tool then, maybe one bigger than JimBob had -- and he was right next door bahis firmaları and ready to bring over the item I needed.
I never paid much mind to anything the leering old letch said, though I will admit that seeing that big bulge in those tight shorts, which he liked to show off as he splayed his legs wide while he watered the garden, made me more than little curious about the make and model of the tool he was talking about and how it compared to the one I knew.
And there he was, sauntering around by his row of shrubs next to our driveway, when I came wheeling up the driveway that afternoon, hornet mad at JimBob and what he was making me do, and now at that lecherous old coot trying to nose into my business, and when I stepped out of the car, I was distracted and dropped my bag from Kum'NGo. Out came tumbling two big black cocks and the equipment to strap them on.
Before I could say pea turkey and reach down and gather up my purchases, old Zeb's eyes locked onto them and got as big as saucers. "Why, Peggy," he said, "I had no idea in the world JimBob was that kind of guy. I didn't have him pegged for someone into that kind of fun. Looks like someone's ass is going to get pegged tonight, good and proper."
Yes, now you know: my name is Peggy. Laugh if you will. Peggy was going to peg her sorry cheating husband JimBob, whose horny cock was in time out, as hard and fast as she could tonight, and if that makes you chuckle, well, go ahead and chuckle. Old Zeb Cartwright sure did so, cackling at what he'd discovered and what he thought was his witty way of letting me know that he was onto what was going on with JimBob and me. Within a couple of hours, we'd soon find out, the whole neighborhood knew what was going down in our bedroom that night, after Zeb Cartwright went and flapped his gums up and down the block.
After gathering up my Kum'NGo purchases that were none of Zeb's goddamned business in the first place, I straightened my back, held my head high, and walked with all the dignity I could muster to my front door, raging inside: JimBob had made me have to go and buy pegging equipment and plan to give him a good fucking. Then old Zeb Cartwright had seen what I had in my Kum'NGo sack and made filthy comments about it, and I was just outdone. Men! Can't live with them, can't live without them. Yes, you need those big old tools of theirs to keep you satisfied, but the man that comes attached to the tool is sometimes just a big old inconvenience.
I marched myself inside the door and there JimBob was sitting, meek as a church mouse, just where I told him to be sitting and waiting when I got back home -- in the entryway chair. I told him I wanted him there when I returned or there would be consequences, and that it was the one place in the house I knew he wouldn't try to fiddle with his pecker while I was gone, since he had no idea when I'd fling open the front door and find him out.
I marched right past him sitting in that chair like a guilty little schoolboy in detention, shucking my clothes as I did so until I was down to only my bra and soaked panties, and told him to get the fuck into the downstairs guest bedroom and eat my hot pussy, and keep that cheating cock of his in his pants until I told him he could take it out.
This was how things were going to go down while his cock was in time out and he was depriving my needy love hole of attention: he was going to lick and suck me anytime I wanted some action, work my clit and make me cum until I told him I'd had enough, and that big hard cheating cock was going to stay out of the game. He wasn't going to use it to fuck my pussy, so he might as well get that idea out of his head. It was my needy cunt that was going to get the loving, and Big Jim was going to behave himself and stay in his pants until I told him to take it out.
Yes, Big Jim was our pet name for JimBob's big old dick. Before we got married, we dated for a few months right out of high school, and I declare to goodness, all I heard about from our very first date right up to our wedding day was Big Jim this and Big Jim that. First, it was, "Hon, Big Jim really wants to meet you. I know you'll enjoy meeting him." Or, "Baby, if you only knew how much those wet panties torture Big Jim, when you won't let me inside them, you might act a little sweeter."
Or, "Come on, now, just take Big Jim out for a minute and get to know him. You'll like him, I know, and he already likes you so much that he's up and ready for action, and these pants are cutting off his blood circulation and hurting him."
I was raised to be a good girl. I intended to stay that way. But that doesn't mean that I wasn't aware that I had a pussy and that it was hot and ready for action, too -- that it was made to meet Big Jim and any other big boys like Jim. After getting to know JimBob and hearing night after night about Big Jim, I had a problem to deal with: I was a good girl that liked sex. Making a vow to be a good girl just didn't kaçak bahis siteleri stop my pussy from getting hot and wet, and it took only a tiny bit of action for me to cum at the drop of a hat. The touch of a finger on my hard little clitty, a pinch of a nipple, and I was off into a hard orgasm.
My head might say that I needed to wait until I was married to meet Big Jim, but that's not what my throbbing clit and aching pussy told me. They fully intended to meet Big Jim and spend some time with him sooner instead of later. Up until I met JimBob, the only fingers on or in Miss Pussy had been mine, and the only hand playing with my tits had been mine. I was determined to find out what kind of difference having JimBob's big pussy pleaser give some action to my needed love tunnel would make.
Date by date, JimBob wore me down, loosened me up, worked me up hotter and hotter. As he begged me to let Big Jim out and get some much-needed attention, we did all the things hot young folks getting to know each other normally do with each other while we sat in JimBob's car up at Summit Point where young couples in our town parked for privacy. First I let JimBob feel me up over my blouse and bra, then after another date or two, I gave in and let him inside the bra. I let him take it off, unbutton my blouse, and feast on my horny nipples that were so large and aroused they were about to burst.
I let him rub my wet cunt over my steamy panties, but pushed his fingers away if he tried to get inside them while I rubbed Big Jim good and proper over JimBob's pants and learned I could make that horny big pecker shoot off even without taking it out of his pants. Then after my tits were no longer off limits, it was my needy pussy that I allowed JimBob to give some attention to. I let him pull my panties down and finger and play with me until I came over and over every night that we kissed and petted each other in the front seat of his car at Summit Point.
It was when JimBob suggested one night that we move to the back seat so we could "have more room to enjoy ourselves" that I knew what was coming next: I was going to meet Big Jim. In the flesh, so to speak. JimBob and I were going to be cumming next.
That night was the first time I'd ever had my pussy licked and sucked. The feeling was like I'd died and gone to heaven. As soon as JimBob started licking my wet labia, then my hot hole, and finally my erect little clit, I came harder than I'd ever cum with my own fingers or the handle of my hairbrush, and I knew I was ready for Big Jim. I had to have Big Jim and I didn't intend to wait. I had to have Big Jim then and there.
From that night forward, up to our wedding day and now 17 years after that, I've been head over heels in love with Big Jim and what he can do to my pussy. From that night when I first met Big Jim, I couldn't get enough of him, in JimBob's car, in his bedroom or mine when we could sneak each other into our houses before we tied the knot, anywhere we could find to suck and fuck. We fucked like there was no tomorrow, got married in a fever, and fucked harder and longer than we'd fucked as horny young adults now that we had a house and bedroom to ourselves and no one to supervise us. It has been a rare day in all the years we've been married that we haven't fucked at least once, and on many days, more than that -- all over the house, me standing against the wall while JimBob works that big tool up inside my needy hole, me bending over a chair in the living room while Big Jim thrusts into me hard from behind, me sitting on a kitchen counter with my legs spread wide while JimBob licks and sucks my cunt to several orgasms before Big Jim gives me the hard fucking he and I both need so bad.
Up until I put his straying cock in time out, JimBob just never left me and my pussy alone for a single day, and that's absolutely fine with me. When it comes to fucking and sucking, we both have voracious appetites, and I have never had enough of Big Jim and all that he does to my needy pussy. And so that's why discovering that JimBob had shared that big cock that belongs to me alone after we spoke our vows had me so angry, and why I had decided to give JimBob's the good fucking he needed.
So down the hallway I stomped when I got home from Kum'NGo, shedding my clothes as I walked, my bag of purchases in my hand as I ordered JimBob to follow me to our guest bedroom and give my pussy, which he'd deprived of his hard cock, the attention it needed. My plan was to get him hot and bothered as he gave attention to that wet love hole he loved so much and as he pinched those hard tit nubs that gave him and me both so much pleasure -- and then tell him I had a surprise for him, and get the pegging underway.
And that's exactly how it happened that evening of JimBob's initial pegging. After he had licked me to several good shuddering orgasms, I said, "JimBob, baby, I have a little treat for you. I was out to that Kum'NGo place today and got something I think you're going to like. No, sir! that cock of yours is still in time out. But this is a little something to tide you over until it's ready to return to some action once it shows some real remorse for fucking that bimbo.