Man Loves Wife's Ass Too Much 01

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Man Loves Wife's Ass Too Much, #1

Perversely perverted, a husband loves his wife's ass a little too much.

"I just love your ass Jennifer," said her husband Mike while reaching around her to feel and to fondle her shapely behind. "God I just can't get enough of your beautiful ass."

Mike loved his wife's ass. Pounding her pussy while squeezing her ass, he looked at her with lust while she looked at him with boredom. Seemingly he was more in love with her ass than he was with her. She should make him a plaster of Paris imprint of her ass and paint it flesh tone to match her ass then maybe he'd leave her ass alone.

"Enough about my ass Mike," she said swatting his hands away from her ass and then pushing her hands against his chest to look at him. "What about the rest of me? Don't you like my tits?" She removed her breasts from her nightgown to flash him her breasts? "What about my long, shapely legs? I thought you were a leg man."

When he looked at her with lust again, she looked at him with disgust.

"The rest of you? I love all of you but I really love your ass," he said groping her ass again while squeezing her ass before slapping her ass.

He looked at her as if shocked that she didn't like what he said when complimenting her ass.

"What else?"

Already annoyed, she waited for him to dig himself out of the hole he dug himself in while giving him a chance to compliment her.

"What else what?"

He scratched his head obviously confused with her meaning of what else.

"Yeah, what else? Tell me what else do you love about me," she said as if she was a teacher giving her student an on the spot test.

"You have the best ass I've ever seen," he said smiling while obviously proud of himself that he gave his wife the ultimate compliment, albeit another ass compliment.

By the look she gave him, seemingly if she had a gun, she would have shot him.

"Fuck you, Michael," she said.

Then, as if a light dawned and illuminated the dimness of his brain, he fell into the pillow talk about her having sex with another man.

"Well, actually, I'd love to see you having sex with another man," he said. "I'd love for you to show your naked ass to another man. I'd love to know what another man things about your ass."

She sighed loudly while rolling her eyes.

"Michael stop. Don't do that," she said.

She looked at him with anger.

"Don't do what?"

He looked at her with confusion.

"Please don't talk about me having sex with another man while your cock is inside of me," she said pushing him off of her. "That's just wrong. That's just nasty. That just knocks me out of the mood."

She extricated his penis from her pussy, stood, walked to her dresser, removed a panty of from her drawer, and climbed into them. Officially done, with him knocking her out of the mood for sex, their Saturday sex night was prematurely over.

"What? Are you mad at me? What did I say? What did I do? C'mon baby, bring your ass over here."

* * * * *

That next Saturday, Jennifer pretended she was sleeping, yet somehow he always knew that she wasn't. Same thing every Saturday night, with the romance gone out of their marriage and with her just going through the motions to accommodate his sexual needs, this was their sex night. To her, with him so controlling, unspontaneous, and unromantic, sex with him was something else she needed to do and to endure to not rock the boat. Rather than complain, argue, and refuse him the use of her body, as if she was a rag doll or a blowup doll, she just gave him what he wanted so that she could roll over and go to sleep.

What was never predetermined, what once was always erotically exciting, and what was always so surprisingly spontaneous before was now boring. A wifely duty, a womanly chore, and a Saturday night routine, she no longer enjoyed having sex with her husband. How so droll their sex life had become? How so predictably boring living with him now is? She wished for more excitement in her life but, as a married woman, other than to have a baby, which she can't have, what can she possibly do for sexual excitement?

No doubt, if she confessed her concerns to her husband, he'd want her to have sex with other men. No doubt, if she confessed that she was sexually unfulfilled, he'd want her to participate in the swinging lifestyle. No doubt, if she confessed that she was bored having sex with him, he'd want to watch her having sex with someone else. A no win dilemma for her, she was trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who only loved her for her great ass. Her ass, her ass, his sexual lust was more for her ass than it was for her.

This was it. Unless she masturbated herself in between, which she routinely did, Saturday night sex was her sexual excitement for the week. Having sex without the want, the need, the desire, and the romance was lifeless. Having sex without feeling the sexual excitement she once felt for him was now dull. Having sex with someone who only wanted her for her great ass was perversely revolting, belittling, and insulting. Having sex without being properly aroused, was lame and always the lackluster same without the sparks that they once had to ignite the flame.

Having sex without the sexual attraction and the fireworks they once had was not nearly the same as when they first met, dated, and married. Their Honeymoon was unbelievable. The first two years that they were married, he couldn't get enough of her lips, her tits, and her pussy. Now, it's just her ass. Now everything is old, tired, and boring. Now everything is stale, boring, and the same. She wondered if all married couples were like this once they hit that seven year wall, better known as the seven year itch. She wondered if boredom and the same old thing was the reason why so many couples became swingers.

* * * * *

Sometimes wishing she was dead, Mike lightly touched her back as if feeling to see if she was still breathing and as if to see if her heart was still beating before reaching down to feel her naked ass through her nightgown. Unless he was pushing down on her shoulder as her not so subtle hint to suck him, always the first place he sexually touched her was her ass. Her ass, her ass, everything was about her ass. Instead of having a great ass, her way of denying him her ass, she wished she had a big, fat, flabby ass.

Sometimes in the way that he touched her, especially after they've argued and when she didn't want to be touched sexually or wasn't ready to be touched sexually, he made her skin crawl, not a good feeling for a wife to have with her husband. Sometimes in the way he makes her feel, as if she's a thing that gives him sexual pleasure instead of a person who gives him love, comfort, and so much more, she wished she was divorced. Done with him and done with all men, sometimes she wished she lived alone.

With him not very affectionate, never does he just hug her without grabbing her ass and without expecting her to suck him before fucking him. Never does he just hug her without his hand feeling and squeezing her ass. With him not very romantic, once in a while she'd think that he'd buy her flowers and/or tell her that he loved her. Instead of complimenting her on how she looks or on something she did, he's quick to complain. If he compliments her at all, with the rest of her seemingly invisible, he compliments her ass. Whenever he compliments her ass, she's so tempted to let out a loud and smelly fart.

"How do you like me now? Do you still like my ass? Wait. I have another one coming. Bend over so that I can fart in your face."

Obviously, he takes her for granted, especially in the way that he sometimes forces her to do things that she doesn't want to do, such as sex and especially blowjobs. She's given him so many blowjobs that now she dreads sucking his cock. She used to love blowing him but now she hates blowing him. She dislikes the taste of him with him always smelling like a stale cigar. Seldom returning the favor, she couldn't remember the last time he licked her pussy. Matter of fact, he licks her ass way more than he licks her pussy. If only he loved her pussy in the way he worships her ass, she'd have no complaints.

Instead of being satisfied cumming in her mouth, now he wants to defile her by cumming all over her face and in her hair. He suddenly wants to give her a cum bath. What's that about? Maybe he's watch one too many Japanese videos on bukkake. When many wives don't suck cock and many of those who do, don't swallow, he's a lucky man that she not only has such a great ass but also that she's such a great cocksucker. Yet, no longer satisfied with cumming in her mouth and her swallowing his cum, now he wants cum all over her face.

Obviously, in the way she does everything for him, cook, clean, and serve him, he'd be lost without her. She'd leave him if they weren't so entangled with their personal affairs. With this house, car payments, student loans, and with their credit card debt suffocating them, they felt so trapped. With him going his merry way while thinking everything is perfect, especially if she'd relent and have sex with another man while he watched, he was clueless that she was so unhappy and so sexually frustrated.

* * * * *

It was always the little things that bothered her the most. Even though she preferred and was more comfortable sleeping with panties, her not so subtle sign that she was ready for sex, she didn't wear panties on Saturday nights. Even if they were arguing all day, she knew better than to wear panties on a Saturday night. Why bother wearing panties when she'd only be removing them? If it was up to him, he'd rather that she'd go out to the store and to the mall without her panties.

In that regard, she didn't even know why she even wore a nightgown to bed. Only, too blatant and a silly game they played, being that she never goes to bed naked, if she went to bed naked now on Saturday nights, she knew that he'd know that she'd be expecting sex. Impossible for her to change him now, she didn't want to make their sex anymore predicable than it already was. Unfortunately the only change he wanted to make was to have her have sex with another man, a man and a woman, and/or a woman. Unfortunately, the only changes he was willing to make to their sex life where ones that she was vehemently against.

As if it was Sunday, her day for church, which he never attends with her, with it being Saturday night, he expected sex anyway. It was just a silly game that they played with them trying to act more spontaneous. Only how surprised could she be when she knew that every Saturday night he touched, felt, groped fondled, squeezed, slapped, and spanked her ass before climbing on top of her? Every Saturday night his hands were all over her naked ass while not making love to her but fucking her while talking about her having sex with another man. Sometimes he made her so sick to her stomach that she thought she'd puke.

Even if she closed her eyes and pretended that she wanted him in the way she once did, the feeling just wasn't there. With him busy looking at other women, other than the obvious appreciation that he showed for her ass, he didn't appreciate the woman that he had in bed beside him. With their whole marriage now a farce, their entire life was just a silly game that they played over and again, every Saturday night. Maybe if she could have had children and maybe if they had a couple of kids, she'd feel differently about him and about her marriage but with nothing holding her to him other than bills and obligations, she doesn't. Even though she knew they were about to have sex, it was seemingly better to pretend that they may not be having sex.

She only wished that he'd go to bed and just go to sleep. She could only wish that instead of having sex every Saturday night, he had sex with her Sunday morning. Wow! How hot would that be with her sitting in church while thinking that she just sucked and fucked her husband only a couple of hours before. Only, he'd never change his routine to adopt a different one, one more exciting, one that was more unpredictable, and one that made her happy for a change. Maybe just once, she'd like to initiate the sex. Maybe just once, she'd rather be the one in control. Only, with them having sex more about him than it was about her, she didn't have an orgasm but just pretended she did to make him stop and to make him leave her alone so that she could go to sleep.

* * * * *

A huge understatement, her husband loved her ass. Always touching it, grabbing it, groping it, feeling it, fondling it, squeezing it, slapping it, and spanking it, seemingly, he could never get enough of her beautiful ass. Always checking her naked ass in the mirror, she imagined her getting a rash on her ass from his hand always rubbing her shapely backside.

Only, after a while, his horny hands were unwelcomely annoying. After a while, in the way that he was always groping her and making her feel like a thing instead of a person, she'd rather he kept his hands to himself and behave. After a while, admittedly enjoying the attention in the beginning, she was tired of him lifting her short skirt to flash her panties to men walking behind her at the mall.

She didn't want other men, strange men, and/or perverted men staring at her panty clad ass. How embarrassing is that? With him not wanting her to wear panties and her drawing a line in the sand over that, glad that she was wearing panties, she hated when he exposed her panty clad ass to the world. Such a lack of respect for her, his wife, how could he do that to her?

Could he embarrass her anymore? Could he humiliate her any further? Could he make her feel any more uncomfortable? Always swatting his hand away from her ass, she forever checked her skirt to see if it was raised while she walked. As if he was a pickpocket, he had a way of stealthily raising her skirt and tucking it up behind her oversized pocketbook or shopping bag. An exhausting game for her to be forced to play, his game was to expose her panties to unsuspecting men by raising her skirt and her game was to preserve her modesty by fluffing down her skirt.

God forbid she should be carrying something with two hands, he'd raise her skirt up to her back. Something he's done before at their backyard drunken barbeque when she came out in the backyard carrying food, he's not only raised her skirt but also pulled down her panties. She thought she nipped that in the bud by wearing sweatpants to their barbeques but he'd wait until he had an audience and pull those down too along with her panties. Now instead of just flashing his friends her naked ass, he was flashing his friends her pussy too.

"Michael! That the fuck?"

Whenever they were at the mall, with her lugging her purse in one hand and a shopping bag in the other, he thought it funny to secretly raise her skirt when going up the escalator. Until she felt a draft, it always took her a few seconds for her to notice that her panties were in plain view to the men walking behind her or riding up the escalator behind her. As if she had a tick, she was developing a phobia from swatting his hand and checking the back of her skirt so much.

"Stop," she said swatting his hand away and fluffing down her skirt. "Don't do that!"

When he walked with her with his arm around her back, she always had to check to make sure that he wasn't lifting the back of her skirt high enough for men to see what they should never see of her and of his wife. When finally realizing that she was so exposed, pulling down her skirt but too embarrassed to turn around to look, she had no idea how many men he's flash her panties to over the years. Whenever he walked with an unopened umbrella he'd accidentally on purpose lift the back of her short skirt at the most inopportune moment.

In the way of Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and Jennifer Lopez didn't always wear panties when out in public, he was always asking her not to wear panties. He had this sexual fantasy of her alighting from a car with her skirt up to her waist and with the sight of her trimmed, blonde pussy in plain view of men. He had a sexual fantasy of lifting her skirt while going up the escalator to flash her naked ass to the men standing behind her. He was always wanting her to go to the car wash on a windy day while wearing a short skirt without panties to vacuum out her car while he watched from a distance all the men ogle her naked ass. Willing to buy her shoes, he always wanted her to flash her panties or her naked pussy to the shoe salesman while trying on shoes.

With her thinking him a pervert, he must think her a whore. She'd think that if he coveted her ass so much that he'd want to keep it all for himself. She'd think that if he so loved her ass that he'd be jealous of other men leering at her ass, lusting over her ass, and wanting her ass too. If he loved her, she'd think that he wouldn't want her to have sex with anyone but him. Yet now he's been asking her about participating in the swinging lifestyle. He not only wants to watch her having sex with other men but also he wants her to be a swinger.

His focal point wasn't her long, lush, blonde hair, her pretty face, her C cup breasts, or her long, shapely legs, but her ass. Everything was about her ass. With all of his compliments and all of his dialogue about her ass, his attraction to her began and seemingly ended with her ass, literally and figuratively. If her husband of seven years was anything, and with him first to admit it, he was an ass man. No doubt, had she not been blessed with such a fine, tight, firm, and roundly defined, shapely ass, he never would have dated her forget about marrying her.

Thinking that his physical and sexual attraction to her ass was adorably flattering before, if only she knew that his fixation with having a wife who had such a great ass was his biggest priority, she would have thought him weird. She would have thought him perversely perverted to cherish her ass more than any other part of her beautiful body, especially her beautiful face. Had she known he had such a fetish for her ass, she would have thought him abnormally obsessed with her ass. If she had known that he cherished her ass as much as he does, she not only would have stopped dating him but also she never would have married him. Too late now, with all of the money they owed, literally and figuratively, he owned her ass.

Nonetheless his twisted infatuation with her ass, she was proud of her great ass. A one in a million type of ass, she attributed her shapely behind to taking ballet and gymnastics as a child. Then, when she stopped ballet and gymnastics lessons, she started ice skating and swimming. Later she lifted weights. Now, it's running and playing tennis. When she's not swimming, she's running and playing tennis. She always did something that seemingly paid dividends to her having a great ass and great legs for that matter too, not that he noticed her legs or anything other than her ass.

Her ass, her ass, everything was about her ass. Seemingly the only time he complimented her was when he complimented her on what a great ass that she had. Seemingly the only time he noticed what she wore was when she was wearing a short skirt or filling out a tight pair of jeans. If only he looked her in the eyes instead of staring at her ass, she'd have more hope for the continued survival of their marriage. Only, seemingly, he didn't want any other part of her than her great ass.

* * * * *

Whether they were walking through the mall or watching television, a continual monologue, no one's ass was safe from his in depth commentary. As if it was his right to critique and criticize the asses of other women, as if he was the official ass man sworn to notice every woman's ass, he always commented about this ass or that ass. She used to be jealous that he was looking at other women's asses but secure in her own ass because she had such a fine ass, she's no longer jealous that he not only harmlessly looks at other women's asses but also that he comments on other women's asses too. The only time she felt a tang of jealousy is when he spots a better and a younger ass than she has now. Assuredly, it's only a matter of time before he makes a total ass of himself by chasing after some young, hot piece of ass. God, he's such an asshole.