House Arrest Can Be Fun

Husband on House Arrest and Wife Has Needs

As I recall the events that transpired, I must admit that my life with Derrick, my husband, was one of luxury and comfort. He worked as a financial advisor to high-net-worth individuals on Wall Street, and our multi-million-dollar home in Sands Point, NY, was a testament to his success. With a salary exceeding $3 million annually, plus bonuses, we lived a life many could only dream of. Five years into our marriage, though, we had yet to be blessed with children.

But everything changed when Derrick got entangled in a Ponzi-like scheme and became a government informant. His arrest and subsequent house arrest turned our lives upside down. With an electronic monitor strapped to his ankle, he was confined to our home, only allowed to leave for medical appointments and meetings with his attorneys. I, Clarissa, a statuesque 5'11" with a 29-inch waist and a 36D bust, was left to navigate this new reality.

My frustration and anger towards Derrick were palpable, but I didn't want to leave him. Instead, I saw this situation as an opportunity to rediscover myself and indulge in the pleasures of life. I made it clear that I needed my space, and he began sleeping in a separate bedroom.

As the days turned into weeks, my desires began to simmer. With Derrick confined to the house, I started thinking about ways to satisfy my cravings outside the home. I'd tell him I was meeting friends for shopping or a spa day, but in reality, I was seeking adventure and connection. The guilt of lying to him was minimal, as I rationalized that I was simply taking care of myself.

One evening, I decided to treat myself to a nice dinner and drinks at a local gastro pub. I dressed to impress in a fitted pencil skirt, a low-cut blouse, and 5-inch stiletto heels. At 6:30 PM, I took a seat at the bar and ordered a martini. The atmosphere was lively, and the bartender was friendly. As I sipped my drink, a handsome 40-year-old man in an expensive suit caught my eye. He struck up a conversation, and we quickly discovered a shared sense of humor.

As we chatted, he occasionally brushed against my arm and leg, sending shivers down my spine. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and before I knew it, we'd had several drinks. The air was charged with a palpable attraction, and when I suggested we continue the evening elsewhere, he agreed without hesitation. The night was young, and I was ready to see where it would take us.

The moment the motel door clicked shut behind us, he spun me around, his hands gripping my waist like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go. His mouth crashed onto mine, his tongue forcing its way past my lips, tasting like whiskey and sin. His fingers dug into my skin, possessive and rough, as he palmed my tits through my dress, squeezing until my nipples ached. "Fuck, you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you?" he growled against my lips, his voice thick with lust. "I can smell how wet you are."

I stepped back, letting my dress slide down my body in a slow tease, leaving only my heels to click against the cheap carpet. His eyes darkened as he took in my nearly naked body, his cock already straining against his pants. I dropped to my knees in front of him, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness, the metal buckle catching the light as I undid it. His pants hit the floor in a heap, and I reached in, wrapping my fingers around his thick, veiny cock.

It was perfect—seven inches of hard, swollen flesh, the head already glistening with precome, the shaft thick enough to stretch me to my limits. I took him into my mouth without hesitation, my lips sealing around the crown as I swallowed him deep. His groan was guttural, a raw sound of pleasure as I hollowed my cheeks, my tongue swirling around the sensitive underside while my hand gripped the base, stroking in time with my mouth.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair. He grabbed my head, his grip firm but not painful, and started fucking my face—short, punishing thrusts that had my throat opening for him, my lips stretched obscenely around his girth. The sound of wet, sloppy slurps filled the room, mixed with his ragged breaths and my own whimpers. "That’s it, take it all, you greedy little slut," he growled, his hips snapping forward like he couldn’t hold back. "You love taking my cock in that pretty mouth, don’t you?"

I moaned around him, the vibrations making his cock twitch. He came with a guttural groan, his fingers tightening in my hair as he rode out his orgasm, his cock twitching as he emptied himself deep in my throat. I swallowed every drop, my pussy clenching at the taste of him, my body already aching for more.

He pulled me up by my arms, his mouth crashing onto mine again as he backed me toward the bed. The mattress dipped under our weight as he laid me down, his body covering mine. His hands roamed my body, squeezing my tits, pinching my nipples until I gasped. "You’re so fucking perfect," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I could stay inside you forever."

He positioned himself between my legs, his cock pressing against my soaked entrance. "Look at you, all spread open for me," he growled, his fingers parting my lips, exposing my glistening pussy. "So fucking wet, just for me." With one slow, deliberate thrust, he buried himself inside me, filling me to the hilt. I cried out, my nails digging into his back as he stretched me open.

He started moving, his hips rolling in deep, slow strokes that had me moaning his name. "You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his lips finding mine again. "Your pussy is so tight, milking my cock like you were made for me." His hands gripped my hips, lifting me slightly as he fucked me deeper, his cock hitting my G-spot with every thrust. "That’s it, take it all," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. "You’re mine now, aren’t you?"

I could only whimper in response, my body trembling as pleasure coiled tighter inside me. He leaned down, his teeth grazing my nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark growl. "Let me feel you come all over my cock."

With a broken cry, I shattered, my pussy clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he grunted, his cock swelling inside me. "I’m gonna fill you up, baby." With a final, deep thrust, he came, his cum flooding my pussy as he buried himself to the hilt.

He pulled out of me with a wet pop, his cock glistening with our combined fluids. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. "I want to see that perfect ass while I fuck you."

I flipped onto my hands and knees, my ass presented to him, my pussy dripping with need. He knelt behind me, his hands gripping my hips as he lined himself up. "Fuck, you’re so wet," he groaned, his cock pressing against my entrance. "You love this, don’t you? Love taking my cock like a good little slut."

With one rough thrust, he buried himself inside me, his balls slapping against my clit with every deep stroke. "That’s it, take it," he growled, his hands gripping my hips tightly. "You’re so fucking tight, baby." His thrusts grew harder, his cock hitting my G-spot with every snap of his hips. "You’re mine," he snarled, his voice a dark growl. "Say it."

"I’m yours," I moaned, my voice trembling with need.

"Louder," he demanded, his thrusts growing rougher. "Say you’re my fucking slut."

"I’m your slut!" I cried out, my body trembling as pleasure built inside me again.

He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me harder, his cock swelling inside me. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough with lust. "Let me feel you come all over my cock."

With a broken cry, I came, my pussy clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he grunted, his cock swelling inside me. "I’m gonna fill you up, baby." With a final, deep thrust, he came, his cum flooding my pussy as he buried himself to the hilt.

He pulled out of me with a wet pop, his cock glistening with our combined fluids. "You’ve been a good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. "But I think you’re ready for something a little more… taboo."

I whimpered as he pushed me onto my stomach, my ass presented to him. He knelt behind me, his fingers tracing the outline of my asshole, teasing me. "You’ve never taken my cock here before, have you?" he growled, his voice dark with lust. "But I know you want it."

I could only nod, my body trembling with anticipation. He reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, his fingers slicking it over his cock before pressing it against my tight hole. "Relax," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. "Let me in."

With slow, deliberate pressure, he pushed inside me, his cock stretching me open. I gasped, my nails digging into the sheets as the burn spread through me. "That’s it," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Take it all, baby."

He started moving, his hips rolling in deep, slow strokes that had me moaning his name. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly. "You were made for this, weren’t you?" His thrusts grew harder, his cock hitting my prostate with every deep stroke. "You’re mine now," he snarled, his voice a dark growl. "Say it."

"I’m yours," I moaned, my voice trembling with need.

"Louder," he demanded, his thrusts growing rougher. "Say you’re my fucking slut."

"I’m your slut!" I cried out, my body trembling as pleasure built inside me again.

He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me harder, his cock swelling inside me. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough with lust. "Let me feel you come all over my cock."

With a broken cry, I came, my ass clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he grunted, his cock swelling inside me. "I’m gonna fill you up, baby." With a final, deep thrust, he came, his cum flooding my ass as he buried himself to the hilt.

He collapsed beside me, his breath ragged as he pulled me into his arms. "Fuck, you’re perfect," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "I could stay inside you forever."

I nestled against him, my body still trembling from the intensity of our sex. "Again?" I teased, my voice breathless.

He chuckled, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. "Give me a minute, baby. I’ve got plenty more where that came from."

His fingers tightened around mine, pulling me toward the bathroom with a smirk that promised more filth. The motel shower was small, the tiles yellowed with age, but the water was hot—just the way I liked it. He turned the faucet, the spray hissing to life as steam filled the cramped space. Before I could even react, he had me pressed against the cool tile, his body pinning me in place.

His hands roamed over me, slick with soap, as he washed me with deliberate slowness—first my neck, then my shoulders, his fingers lingering on my collarbone before sliding down to my tits. "Fuck, you’re so soft," he growled, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, making them pebble under his touch. "But I know you’re not done being my dirty little slut."

The soap suds trailed down my stomach, his fingers dipping lower, between my thighs. "Still so wet for me," he murmured, his voice rough with approval. His fingers parted my lips, teasing my clit before sliding inside me. "You love when I touch you here, don’t you?" He curled them, hitting that perfect spot inside me, and I gasped, my nails scraping against the tile.

"Yes," I whimpered, my hips rocking back against his touch.

"Good girl," he praised, his free hand gripping my hip. "Now bend over."

I obeyed without hesitation, my palms pressing against the shower wall as the water cascaded down my back. He didn’t waste a second—his fingers left me empty, and instead, I felt the thick head of his cock pressing against my tight asshole. "You take my cock so well here," he groaned, his voice dark with lust. "Such a filthy little whore, aren’t you?"

"Yes," I moaned, my voice trembling as he pushed inside me, stretching me open. The burn was sharp at first, but it quickly melted into something deeper, something better—the way his cock filled me, the way his balls slapped against my clit with every thrust.

"That’s it," he growled, his hands gripping my hips as he fucked me hard. "Take it all, you greedy slut." His thrusts were deep, punishing, his cock hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. "You love this, don’t you? Love taking my cock in your ass while I talk dirty to you."

"Yes!" I cried out, my voice echoing off the tiles.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice rough. "Say you’re my fucking slut."

"I’m your slut!" I sobbed, my body trembling as pleasure coiled tighter inside me.

He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me harder, his cock swelling inside me. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark growl. "Let me feel you come all over my cock."

With a broken cry, I came, my ass clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own release. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he grunted, his cock swelling inside me. "I’m gonna fill you up, baby."

But instead of coming inside me, he pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening with our mixed fluids. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice rough with lust.

I obeyed, my body still trembling, my pussy and ass aching in the best way. He grabbed my chin, tilting my face up to his. "Open."

I did as he said, my lips parting as he lined up his cock. "Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with approval. "Now take it."

He didn’t hold back—his cock slid between my lips, his hand fisting in my hair as he fucked my face. "That’s it," he groaned, his hips snapping forward. "Milk my cock, you filthy little whore." His thrusts were rough, his cock hitting the back of my throat, his precome dripping down my chin.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come," he growled, his voice strained. "Swallow every drop, baby."

With a guttural groan, he came—thick ropes of cum shooting down my throat, his fingers tightening in my hair as he rode out his orgasm. I swallowed every drop, my pussy clenching at the taste of him, my body still trembling from the intensity of our sex.

He pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening, and leaned down, pressing a rough kiss to my lips. "Fuck, you’re perfect," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "I could stay inside you forever."

I smiled against his mouth, my body still buzzing from the filth, the pleasure, the way he owned me completely.

The motel room door clicked shut behind me, the fluorescent light buzzing overhead as I stepped out into the dimly lit parking lot. The night air was cool against my skin, but between my thighs, I was still soaking—his cum leaking out of me, warm and thick, mixing with my own arousal. I could still feel the phantom stretch of his cock in my ass, the way his fingers had dug into my hips, the dirty things he’d whispered in my ear while he fucked me.

I walked slowly, my heels clicking against the pavement, my dress still hiked up around my waist, my panties ruined, discarded in the motel trash. Every step made me wince—reminding me of how good it had felt. How filthy. How wrong and right all at once.

By the time I reached my car, my thighs were sticky, my pussy aching in the best way. I got in, the leather seat warm beneath me, and drove home with one hand on the wheel and the other between my legs, my fingers circling my clit just enough to keep the memory of his touch alive.

I let myself into the house quietly, my keys jingling softly as I locked the door behind me. The house was dark, the only light coming from the hallway lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. I kicked off my heels, leaving them by the door, and padded barefoot down the hall toward our bedroom.

The second I stepped inside, I saw him—my husband, sprawled across the bed in nothing but his boxer briefs, his dark hair tousled, his chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths. He was on his side, facing away from me, but I knew he’d wake up the second I touched him.

I climbed onto the bed, straddling his waist, my bare pussy pressing against his back. His skin was warm, his muscles tense beneath my touch. I leaned down, my lips brushing his ear.

"Wake up," I whispered, my voice husky with need.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "Baby?" His voice was thick with sleep, but the second he saw me—sitting on top of him, my dress rumpled, my lips swollen, my hair wild—his eyes darkened.

"I need you," I murmured, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I need you to eat me."

He didn’t hesitate. With a growl, he rolled me onto my back, his mouth crashing onto mine in a bruising kiss. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wide, and then his tongue was there—hot, wet, hungry—lapping at my soaked entrance.

"Fuck," he groaned against me, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "You’re dripping."

I moaned, my hips bucking up into his face. "It’s not mine," I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair. "It’s his."

His tongue stilled for half a second before he groaned again, deeper this time, like the sound came from his chest. "Who the fuck was it?" His voice was rough, possessive, jealous—and it made me wetter.

"A guy from the bar," I admitted, my voice trembling. "He fucked me in a motel. He fucked my pussy, my mouth, my ass—" I whimpered as his tongue circled my clit, "—and then he came everywhere."

His fingers dug into my thighs as he devoured me, his tongue working me into a frenzy. "Did he talk dirty to you?" he demanded, his voice muffled against my pussy.

"Yes," I sobbed. "He called me his slut. His whore. His fucktoy."

His groan vibrated against my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. "Good girl," he murmured, his lips brushing my inner thigh before he buried his face between my legs again. "Tell me everything."

So I did.

I told him how he’d pinned me against the motel door, how his hands had been rough, how his cock had been thick—how he’d fucked my mouth until he came down my throat. I told him about missionary, how he’d stretched me open, how he’d called me his while he filled me up. I told him about doggy style, how he’d grabbed my hips and used me, how he’d made me beg. And then I told him about the shower—how he’d bent me over, how he’d fucked my ass again, how he’d pulled out and made me take his cum like a good little slut.

"Fuck," he groaned, his tongue swirling around my clit. "You’re soaked for him."

"I’m soaked for you," I corrected, my voice breaking. "But I want you to hate it. I want you to be jealous."

He growled, the sound dark and possessive, and then his mouth was on me again, his tongue punishing my clit, his fingers sliding inside me, curling deep. "You’re mine," he snarled against my pussy. "No matter who touches you, you’re still mine."

"Yes," I cried out, my back arching off the bed. "I’m yours."

His fingers found that spot inside me, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles while his tongue worked my clit. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. "Come hard."

I obeyed.

My orgasm hit me like a wave, crashing over me as I came with a broken cry, my pussy clenching around his fingers, my hips bucking against his face. He didn’t stop—he kept going, his tongue lapping up every drop of my release, his fingers never slowing until I was trembling and gasping, my body boneless beneath him.

When I finally came down, he pulled away, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with hunger. "You’re insatiable," he murmured, his voice rough.

I smiled, breathless. "And you’re mine."

He didn’t answer with words.

He just flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my dress up over my hips, and buried his cock inside me in one rough thrust—filling me up, owning me, just like he always did.

And as he fucked me, hard and deep, his hands gripping my hair as he pulled me up onto my knees, I could still taste the other man on my lips.

And my husband loved it.