Up to Eleven
by Pan
Eight.
Eric kept a close eye on the app for the rest of the day.
For the few hours after their shared orgasm, it stayed at Three. Around the time he was finishing up his last tasks for the day, however, he saw movement—it slowly crept up to Four.
By the time he logged out of his computer, it was a Five.
He went downstairs to find that his wife was flirty, but nowhere near where she’d been earlier that day, when she’d dropped to her knees and spontaneously given him the second blowjob she’d ever given him. Maybe two months without sex had affected her as much as it had him, and now that the dry spell was broken she’d regained some self-control?
Aware of just how rude he was being, he kept checking his phone throughout dinner, watching his wife slowly drift from a Five to a Six to a Seven.
By the time they got to bed that night, she was at an Eight. An Eight! The highest he’d ever, ever seen the app go.
If the Three earlier had led to a spontaenous blowjob, he had no idea what Eight would look like.
As soon as the lights were turned out, Eric felt his wife’s hand under the covers, reaching for his cock. It was hard again (it felt like he’d been hard for hours, watching her number slowly rise) and Jamie was completely unsubtle about what she wanted.
“Fuck me again,” she whispered directly into his ear. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how good it was earlier. God, Eric, you’re so sexy…”
He’d only used the app again because he’d had to, because it had somehow glitched out and turned his wife into a walking sexual zombie. He’d had no choice—he’d done what was best for her, what was best for Jamie, because he loved her.
But as his wife climbed on top of him and slowly lowered herself onto his cock, he had to admit…things couldn’t have worked out better for him.
Jamie gasped slightly as the last inch of his cock slid inside her.
“God,” she said breathily. “Eric…I’m so full. You’re filling me up so goood…”
Eric didn’t say anything. In response to his wife’s dirty words, he just reached up and (after a few moments of fumbling) found his wife’s bare breast. Jamie had been wearing her favorite pair of thin silk pajamas when she’d gotten into bed just a minute ago; he wasn’t sure when she’d slipped out of them again, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.
She groaned with pleasure as his fingers found her nipples, and pinched them roughly.
His gorgeous, normally-frigid wife, riding him naked in bed while he played with her tits.
He could definitely get used to this.
The next day, Jamie was at a Three when she awoke, but almost immediately started rising again. By lunchtime, she was back at an Eight. Eric had been staring at the app in bewilderment when his wife surprised him by walking in—naked—to his office, dropping to her knees, and then riding him in his office chair when he was hard.
Again, that took her back down to a Three…but by bedtime, she had returned to an Eight.
That night, they left the lights on as Eric’s wife came around his cock.
The rest of the week followed the same pattern. Twice a day, Jamie would initiate sex, reaching climax as soon as she felt her husband cumming inside her. Eric always checked his phone after she did; his wife always dropped straight back down to Three after she came, but he never saw her go any lower than that.
Eric was in heaven. It was everything he’d dreamt of when he’d first downloaded the app; his beautiful, loving wife finally had a libido that matched his fantasies. She was constantly wet, perpetually hungry for his cock, and (as he discovered as soon as he built up the courage to try it out) was completely open to any of Eric’s lewd suggestions, so long as she was at an Eight or higher.
At his request, she’d allowed him to pull out as soon as he felt his orgasm approaching, and cum onto her face. He’d been amazed to discover that despite the fact that he was no longer between her legs, just watching him orgasm was enough for his wife to reach her own climax.
The sight of Jamie rolling around the floor in orgasm, his cum coating her face, sticking on her glasses…it was almost enough to get him hard enough for a second round straight away.
A few days later, he mentioned how much it would turn him on if she acted submissive, obedient. Jamie took to it like a duck to water—she’d always been a people-pleaser, but the knowledge that her husband found it hot when she obeyed him was all the motivation she needed to turn that aspect of her personality up to eleven.
“Please, sir,” she’d beg, her eyes glassy with lust as she knelt in front of him. “Master, please…your slave needs your cock. Your slave needs your cock inside her. Please…I’ll do anything.”
“I’ll do anything.”
Eric knew that it was just play, but he suspected there was some truth to her words.
When she was at an Eight, it was like lust completely took over her brain. Like she was no longer play-acting, she really did need his cock. That she needed to cum, like it was a higher priority than anything else in her life at that moment. Like she lost all sense, all reason; she her body only existed to serve him.
No—to serve her. To server her up orgasms. When she was at an Eight, that was all she cared about.
“Beg for it,” he’d say teasingly, a huge smile on his face. Post-orgasm, when she was down to a much more reasonable Three or Four, Jamie had once compared his expression to a kid in a candy store, and he had to admit…that was what it felt like.
All of his secret desires, everything he’d ever wanted from his wife…it was all coming true.
“Please,” she’d beg, her voice cracking with need. “Please…I need it.”
Before long, she was begging for more than his cock. She was begging for permission to cum—the first time she’d hit Eight on the fifth day, he’d told her how sexy he’d find it if she waited to cum until he commanded it. It had clearly been a struggle, but she’d obeyed.
She loved to obey him.
The next step had been more than just waiting for the order, but begging for it. He’d once been tempted to see what happened if he didn’t grant it—would she keep rising past an Eight? To a Nine? A Ten?
Or even higher?
But after several minutes of begging, tears would enter her eyes, and he couldn’t deny her any longer. He had never been able to deny Jamie anything.
More now than ever. Even as his wildest sexual fantasies were coming true, Eric was struggling every day with guilt about how he’d gotten there. He was happier than he’d ever been—as was Jamie, from what he could tell—but he hadn’t earned it. He had cheated…not on his wife, of course, something he’d never do.
No, he’d cheated in a way that was somehow worse. More fundamental. He still had no idea how the app worked, but he knew that it had done something that should have been impossible.
And so when his wife’s voice got desperate, Eric gave her what she so desperately wanted. Whether she was begging for his cock, or to orgasm, or for him to orgasm, he’d do everything he could to make her happy.
Eric loved his wife more than anything. More than himself, or the sexual paradise he found himself living in; more than even his cock. If Jamie wanted it, she’d have it, no matter what it was.
As well as that, he didn’t want to take any risks. After two weeks, he was confident that the current loop was stable. Three to Eight in the morning, then back down to Three, then Eight again at night.
It worked. It was reliable. Predictable. Not the sex—Jamie made sure that every time was different, that every time they fucked was unique. The sex itself was as far from predictable as Eric could imagine sex being, especially compared to what they’d had before.
But the rhythm was predictable; hot sex during his lunch break, hot sex again at night. Sometimes in the bed, sometimes pressed up against the living-room window (if Eric had seen both his neighbor and her wife leave the house).
It was safe. There were no devastating lows, and Jamie’s numbers never fluctuated.
Eric was living a perfect life, and he didn’t want to do anything that might ruin it.
And as long as he played it safe, what could possibly go wrong?