Makeup

I finished scrubbing the last bit of burned egg off of the skillet and rinsed away the debris. Charles crunched his toast loudly from the table while he flicked things up and down on his tablet. Our depressingly predictable morning routine continued on as it ever did. I would wake up first so that I could take my shower, the cold water providing the only effective manner of waking me up. Then I would come down to make breakfast. Meanwhile, Charles would take his shower, complaining that I had used up the hot water, and dress for work. We’d have a muttered, sleepy conversation while we ate, and then I would clear up while Charles got a head start on work emails.

“Remember, it’s our anniversary tonight,” I said as I put away jam jars.

Charles looked up from his phone, “Oh? Did you want to do anything special tonight? I thought we might go into the city this weekend and eat at Charred.”

I shrugged. It was our eighth wedding anniversary, not the most momentous of events. “Maybe pick up some take out so that I don’t have to cook. And I could find something nice to wear to bed?”

Charles grinned broadly, “Sounds fun.” He tapped his phone, and the time popped up. “Gotta go, honey,” he chirped as he stood up. Charles started gathering up his jacket and keys and other oddments that he always seemed to put in random parts of the house. I met him at the door and gave him a kiss on the cheek as we said goodbye.

I went over to the window and watched him pull out of the driveway. Once he was out of sight, I turned my attention to our house. I had spent the previous day shopping, and a large amount of laundry had piled up. I turned on some music and set about my chores.

Being a stay at home housewife wasn’t always the plan. When Charles and I married, I kept my job as a financial consultant. The first year was rough, and we were generally terrible people. Both of us woke up and went to work in a fog of sleep. We ate fast food constantly, and we never exercised. Both of us started putting on weight, which neither of us wanted. I had a petite frame on our wedding day. Two years into our marriage, I had gained thirty pounds. Charles had as well, but as he was already rather tall and lanky, he carried it better. I, on the other hand, carried it terribly. Some girls get bigger boobs or a bigger butt, but not me, just a tire of flab around my middle.

Charles didn’t mind, or at least he didn’t say he minded, but our general health concerned both of us. We started to identify where the problems were creeping in. Taking care of yourself as a single adult isn’t easy, but adding another adult into the mix actually raises the level of upkeep. Suddenly, you have twice the dirty dishes, twice the laundry, and half the time. We wanted to have our jobs, our lifestyle, and our time together, but we really made all of it suffer by trying to do too much. Too often our choices came down to: a) go buy groceries b) spend time with one another or c) clean the house. The solution usually was to get a drive thru burger, wallow in filth, and fall asleep ten minutes into watching a movie together.

Charles first suggested that one of us become a full time stay at home spouse. Both of us cringed at the idea. We’re progressive people. The idea of me becoming a housewife unnerved us. Once we really looked at the pros and cons, it started to make sense. Housework isn’t something to be lazy about, and it would provide tangible benefits to both. Cooking at home saved money, which can help offset my loss of salary. Further, it meant that we ate healthier meals since I could have time to get to the store for fresh food on a regular basis. The house was cleaned and cared for, which benefited the mind and mood. A tidy house makes a tidy mind after all.

A month in, Charles jokingly forbade me from ever going back to work. I wasn’t so keen about it because I could already feel the tinge of apathy seeping in. Laundry could wait until tomorrow or the dishes could be put off until the sink was full. I didn’t want things to start to pile up and Charles, rightly, begin to resent me. Instead, I took a very organizational approach, setting out tasks for each day and making sure all of it was done by the time Charles came home from work.

Since I didn’t have to cook dinner for our anniversary, I found myself somewhat unoccupied after lunch. While I was standing in the kitchen tapping a pen against a notepad trying to think of any other things to add to my to do list, the doorbell rang. This was a strangely exciting thing to happen as our doorbell never rang unless we ordered a pizza. Even then, both Charles and I tended to wait around like anxious cats, expectantly watching the door.

Stopping briefly in the hall mirror to make sure I didn’t look dreadful, I proceeded to the front door. Peeking out through the window, I saw a man in a suit holding a small case. Intrigued, I opened the door.

“Hello ma’am, my name is Cedric Winter, and I’m with the Avalon Beauty Company,” the man said as he offered a card. I took it, but I was preoccupied with the strange look of Mr. Winter.

When I first saw him through the window, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but as he stood in front of me in the daylight, certain things were off. His suit looked modern, but I realized that was only because the fashion of suits had been entirely circular. The suit itself wasn’t a faux recreation of the fifties style, but a hand sewn, tailored work of cloth. He had a broad smile and wore thick rimmed glasses, which too were of the style seen lately, but again this man did not exude the snippets of irony which usually hung about the revisitation of old fashion. He was clean shaved with an outdated haircut hidden underneath a broad fedora.

“Now you must be the lady of the house, I presume,” he said in a charming, quick voice. “And what a pretty lady you are.”

Something about him made me feel comfortable. The card in my hand had his name on it along with the logo of the Avalon Beauty Company. The lettering was flourished and extravagant, like what would appear on a carnival poster from the thirties. On the ground beside him was a large suitcase or maybe it would be called a trunk. Though it looked clean, it had the signs of wear that come from extensive use. Several leather straps and an odd lock kept it shut. In big letters on the outside of the case was printed “AVALON” with a smaller version of the logo underneath. While taking all of this in, I realized that Mr. Winter was watching me just as much waiting for a response to his introduction, “Oh, I’m sorry,” I sputtered.

“That’s quite alright, ma’am,” he said, removing his hat. “I am your humble door to door salesman here today to see if you have any interest in Avalon’s beauty products.”

“Door-to-door?” I asked, nonplussed. “You still exist?”

“Surely do,” he said with another charming smile. “The Internet has only led to a broader market for entrepreneurs like myself. Did you not get the community message?” He began to shuffle in his pockets and pulled out a much more modern card. “See here? They handed these out at the last home owners meeting.”

I took the second card and saw that it had the name of our home owners association on it followed by a social media link. I had seen the type of card before, but it was usually given out to members of the HOA who wanted to have candle parties or other schemes housewives use to make money off of their neighbors. I noted the name of the sponsor, Cheryl Matthews, one of the other wives I had met at a mixer. A vague memory popped into my head about a meeting a week or so back that neither I nor Charles had attended, “I’m sorry, we don’t usually go to those meetings.”

Immediately, Mr. Winter put his hat back on and picked up his case, “Not a problem ma’am. I’m sorry to have intruded.”

Before I could react he had started to leave and I didn’t know what else to do other than call out, “Wait! I’d….I can still see what you have right?”

The man turned back to me with the broad smile, “Of course, and what is your name?”

“Katie Ballard,” I said, “Please, come in.”

The man removed his hat once again and walked past me into the house. “My! What a lovely home you have Mrs. Ballard,” he said.

I was not accustomed to having strangers in my house. Really, I wasn’t accustomed to having anyone in my house. I led him into the den and offered him a chair, “Sit down, please.”

He politely waited until I sat, and then quickly positioned himself on the edge of his chair, barely seated and clearly not relaxed. He surveyed the coffee table between us which was littered with several books and a decorative bowl. Mr. Winter tapped his case, “May I?”

“Oh, of course,” I said, dumbly. Quickly, I cleared away the items from the coffee table as he brought up his case and began to unfasten the straps and open the lock.

“Mrs. Ballard, may I ask where you buy your makeup?” he said as he worked.

“Here and there,” I replied, honestly. “Sephora, mostly. I don’t wear much makeup.”

Smiling, Winter replied, “I have yet to meet a woman who does.” With a crack, the case opened. As it unfolded, an array of platforms and mirrors rose out of it. In the center, several trays of small vials and plastic capsules spiraled upward. “Now, as you can see, Avalon offers a wide variety of choices in colors. Tell me, Mrs. Ballard, what jumps out at you from the selection?”

I looked through the different bottles and vials, marveling at how archaic they all seemed. The majority of the array seemed like something that would occupy the vanity of a Dickens character rather than the handbag of a modern woman. One tray did have several different varieties of a modern looking lipstick. Seeing a brightly colored one, I picked it up and took off the cap, revealing a bright pink stick.

“Ah, Bimbogum pink, an excellent choice,” Mr. Winter said.

I thought the name sounded strange, but as I applied the lipstick, a wave of happiness washed over me. I didn’t think about names as much. Looking at myself in the mirror, I applied the color liberally to my lips. I never wore lipstick, really, maybe on a super special occasion, but then again I had promised Charles something for our anniversary. I smacked my lips together, thinking they felt fuller than normal.

Mr. Winter made notes on a small pad in his lap. “Now, most of my customers find that Boobie Blue Blush goes well with that choice of lipstick. Let’s see, ah here we are.” He withdrew one of the capsules and unscrewed the cap, revealing a bright blue color. Mr. Winter took a brush and dabbed it into the blush before handing it to me. I smiled at him as I took it. He seemed like such a nice fellow.

He had a knack for matching colors. The slight blue in my cheeks really made my lips pop. Another wave of happiness washed over me. I knew Charles would be hard the moment he saw me all dolled up like this. My shirt started to get tight for some reason, so I looked down. My boobs were bigger, I thought. I was slightly embarrassed because my hard nipples were clearly visible from behind my shirt, but Mr. Winter didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was busy with his little notepad, I guess taking down notes about what I was gonna buy.

With a new interest, I delved through all the different little bottles until I came across one that I thought looked fun. Niceass Nail Polish. Mr. Winter spoke up again, “Another popular choice, I remember Mrs. Matthews liked that one in particular.”

“Cheryl?” I asked.

Mr. Winter smiled, “Oh yes. The Matthews were my first customers in this neighborhood. Mr. Matthews and I met at a convention, and I showed him my work after we discussed his wife. I believe he also recommended me to your husband, Mrs. Ballard. Anyway, Cheryl, er...Mrs. Matthews was quite taken with that particular nail polish. Gave herself quite the liberal application, but Mr. Matthews was certainly a fan.”

I had mostly stopped listening to him as I spread the red color over my nails. They immediately took the glossy color which would normally take a full manicure to achieve. As I painted each nail, my jeans got tighter and tighter. Once my hand was done, I stood up so that I could breath better. The waistline was cutting into my stomach very uncomfortably.

Mr. Winter looked up from his notes when I stood and said, “Oh, please, make yourself comfortable.”

Such a nice guy, I thought. I unfastened the button and pushed my jeans down, which required a good deal of effort. My big butt jiggled as it popped free of the confining clothes. I didn’t think it was always that big and round, but I was quite pleased with how it looked. My underwear was also pretty tight, but I didn’t mind that so much. I knew that I should feel odd about sitting in my underwear in front of a complete stranger, especially since my underwear was already a little skimpy, but Mr. Winter didn’t seem to notice at all.

Mr. Winter finished his writing and gave me a look up and down, “Now then, how do you feel about a little bit of eye shadow? We have a few selections which are all very popular. Nymphonight, Sluttyshade, or maybe Dickloving Dusk?” He pointed to each of them in turn, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to decide all by myself.

“Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Winter, can you help me choose?” I was a little shocked to hear my own voice, which seemed rather vacant and uncertain about everything. He picked up the one labeled Dickloving Dusk and handed it to me.

“I think this one will be right up your alley,” he said with his charming smile. I took it happily and bent back over the mirror to put it on. Mr. Winter went right back to writing in his little pad. The brush felt nice as it raked over my skin. As I painted the makeup onto myself, my mouth began to water. All I could think about was Charles and when he would be home. It had been months or maybe a year since I’d sucked his dick. Our sex had become mechanical and a treat for him on the rare occasion that I was willing to put out. That seemed so ridiculous to think back on, especially as I could feel my panties getting wet at the thought of his cock.

As I was lost in my thoughts of Charles’s cock, Mr. Winter packed away most of his things. The case shut, and the lock clicked as the straps buckled down. I hopped to my feet, pleased at the feeling of my big ass jiggling behind me. “Oh, are you going so soon?” Charles wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, and I could think of some other ways Mr. Winter could be of service.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, donning his hat once more. “Another happy customer, I think. I find it is best to not overstay my welcome. Can’t mix business with pleasure, unfortunately.” He went to the door as I trailed behind him, my shirt hem tickling the top of my ass cheeks. “Good day, Mrs. Ballard, give my regards to your husband.” He turned to leave, but then looked down at his little notepad. “Say, you wouldn’t know which house belongs to a Carol James would you?”

Eager to be helpful, I pointed to the third house down from ours. Mr. Winter gave me another kind nod and set off down the street.

I closed the door and went back to the living room where he had left a small box containing all my chosen cosmetics. I picked it up and took it upstairs to the bedroom where I placed it on my vanity. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the person at all. My lips had turned from thin lines into big, puffy cock sucking lips. I tried to think of other words to describe them, but cock sucking seemed to fit. Charles would be so happy, I knew. He often whined about not getting blowjobs anymore, but that was mainly because I didn’t like the taste of his spunk.

As I thought about his cock sliding past my lips, my hands slid up my thighs. I went to the bed and laid down, letting my legs splay apart as my hand went to my crotch. My panties were so wet already that I went ahead and took them off. I was surprised to find that my pussy was completely bald, but I hadn’t shaved in a week or more. Curious, I ran my hands over my legs finding them to be entirely smooth as well. My own hands exploring my body put me on pins and needles. Sitting up, I pulled my shirt off, letting my big tits come into view for the first time. These were definitely not the breasts I woke up with. I had never had small boobs, but nothing like these knockers. They were borderline obscene, probably D’s which looked like F’s because of how they hung from my small frame.

My hands came up to grope them, admiring the feeling of soft pliable flesh as it gave way beneath my touch. I couldn’t bear it any more and moved a hand down to my wet pussy as I leaned back against the pillows. Just as I started to slip my finger in, I heard the door slam shut downstairs. I must have misjudged the time, Charles was already home!

I didn’t bother to dress myself as I moved quickly downstairs. I found Charles in the living room, looking at a small slip of paper. “Honey! You’re home!” I came up behind him and pressed my naked body against him as I gave him a hug.

When he saw me, his eyes went wide, “Holy shit. It actually worked.”

“What worked?” I asked, tilting my head to the side slightly.

Charles didn’t know what to say. I was standing in front of him as a brand new bimbo, and he couldn’t process it fast enough. “Um...happy anniversary honey!” he said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Oooh! Did you get me a present?” I asked as he moved on to his belt buckle. I could see that he was already hard. Probably from looking at my new fat boobies.

“Sure did, babe,” he said. “Let me unwrap it for you.”

His pants fell down, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I dropped to my knees right there in our living room and pulled his cock out. I don’t know how I went so long without it in my mouth. My lips wrapped around him and I slid my tongue under his length. I could tell my cock sucking lips were working by the way he groaned as I moved my head back and forth along the length of his cock. It tasted so good! I inhaled his musk as my hand squeezed his balls. I even felt his pulse throbbing in his length as it pushed against the back of my throat.

“Oh god, babe,” I heard him moan. His hands grabbed the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair as he started to fuck my mouth with vigor. I moaned and let my hand drop to my pussy. I was drenched with arousal and probably about to start leaving a spot on the floor. Before I knew what was happening, Charles went still, and his cock started spurting cum in my mouth. I knew I should be mad at him for not warning me, but the moment his hot spunk hit my tongue, I forgot all about it as I desperately gulped down his semen. I wasted so much of it over the years. All those times I had made him go jerk off rather than have sex when he could have been pumping his cum down my throat. I knew then and there that he would never waste an ounce of it again.

His cock softened and he pulled out of my mouth. I looked up at him and smiled a dribble of cum on my lower lip. “That was a great anniversary present!”

Charles seemed to still not believe what was happening. “You look fucking amazing, Katie.”

His compliment sent a tingle of pleasure through my whole body. “Yeah, these titties look great. Oh wait! You haven’t seen my new ass.” I turned around and bent over in front of him, slightly spreading my legs. I heard him groan with lust, and he grabbed my ass with both hands. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Look at how bouncy my ass is. Isn’t this how you want your little housewife? Naked and dripping wet when you get home from work, ready to suck your cock and let you fuck her over the couch?”

Charles’s hand slid down between my legs, his finger sliding easily through my folds. He moved closer to me, his cock hardening as he played with my pussy. I reached underneath us and grabbed his balls, giving them an encouraging squeeze as he started fingerfucking me. His dick was almost inside of me, straining against the inside of my thigh. If I just repositioned myself, I could shove it all inside of me, but then the doorbell rang. “God dammit,” Charles said. He pulled his fingers out of me, and I shuddered from the sudden emptiness. “Go upstairs and wait,” he said, and I implicitly obeyed him. He pulled on his pants and shirt and then went to the door as I disappeared up the stairs, my ass bouncing behind me.

After hearing voices and a door close, I heard the familiar creak of people climbing our stairs. Charles and someone were still talking as they neared our bedroom. I thought about covering myself up, but Charles had said nothing about doing that, but I did stop playing with myself at least. The door opened and Charles entered with a tall handsome man coming in after him. I recognized the man as Bill Matthews, Cheryl’s husband. “Damn, Chuck,” he said, “she looks even hotter now than she did before. You haven’t fucked her yet have you?”

Charles, my husband, looked embarrassed, but he shook his head. “Just a blowjob.”

“A deal is a deal,” Bill said. “Go on then, tell her.”

Charles came over to me and sat on the bed, “Sweetie, this is Bill. You….you can fuck him if you want to. Is that something you would like?”

In the doorway, Bill had started to undress, his thick cock popping into view. The sight of it made me shiver with desire. “Oh, yes, Charles, that would be the best anniversary present ever!”

I turned my attention fully to Bill as Charles moved away from the bed. I turned around and presented my ass to him, still desperate to be filled after Charles took his fingers away. Bill wasted no time. He was a taller man than my husband and so the perfect height to stand beside the bed while I bent forward on my elbows. I felt his hands, the hands of essentially a stranger, grab hold of my luscious ass. His cock wedged itself between my pussy lips, and I immediately knew that he was bigger than Charles. With one fluid motion, the man pushed all the way inside of me, bottoming out in my core with a wet smack of flesh.

I looked over and saw Charles sitting at my vanity, his pants back around his ankles and his cock in his hand. He was watching another man fuck his wife and jerking off to it. Somehow that made it more exciting. Bill fucked better than he did anyway, not just because of his extra length, but out of some new primal confidence. Maybe Bill was just used to fucking bimbos and knew how they loved being used as cum dumpsters. He slapped my ass as he fucked me, and I moaned as I repeatedly felt his cock push inside of me.

Bill hunched over me, his muscular body curving around my soft features. One hand gripped my breast and began to squeeze in rhythm with his strokes. Cheryl was a lucky woman if she got to be fucked like this every day. I looked over at Charles and spoke before I could think, “God, I wish you could fuck me like this.”

Charles didn’t look hurt and actually started stroking his cock faster, but my attention went back to Bill who started to grunt and move erratically. His hand gave my nipple a slight pinch, and his cock started to twitch inside of me. He was about to cum in me! Other than Charles, no one had cum inside of me. The second his hot cum erupted from his cock, my body went rigid as my muscles tensed. My pussy started to squeeze and milk each drop from Bill’s balls as my mind was overwhelmed with orgasmic pleasure. I came and came, moaning and shaking as Bill’s arms held me in place. I coated his cock with my own juices as he finished emptying in me. When I was able to open my eyes, I looked over at Charles as his cock spurted his white cream all over his hand.

Bill slid out of me with a content sigh and I collapsed forward onto the bed, pleased by the feeling of his cum starting to leak out of me. “Well there you go, Chuck. One well fucked bimbo housewife. Gotta say, that’s a pretty tight little pussy you’ve got for yourself. Cheryl’s is good, but I thought about having her visit Mr. Winter again for some tightening cream. It’s ok though, her ass is tight enough.”

I cooed incoherently as the two men talked. I faintly overheard that Charles should go over and fuck Cheryl, apparently in the ass, whenever he felt like it. I would later learn that almost all the wives in the community got their makeup from Mr. Winter. Bill was the ringleader of the whole deal. His finder’s fee was always the first fuck of a new customer. Later, both Charles and I would agree that it was a small price to pay for such a wonderful product.

Bill got dressed and left, and Charles came over to me and rolled me over. His cock was already hard again and got harder as he bent over and sucked my nipple into his mouth. “Happy anniversary Charles, you’re the best husband a girl could want.”

My husband smiled at me as his cock slid into my already cum soaked pussy. “Happy Anniversary, Katie.”