I, Heather, will do anything my long suffering, wonderful husband asks of me'. She signed this with a flourish and, obviously slightly annoyed that th...s wasn't being treated as a joke, went off to bed. I sat for a while, thinking out what I could do. My wife enjoys sex with me, but isn't particularly adventurous. I wanted to use this opportunity to push a few boundaries, in a way which I thought might be pleasurable for both of us. An idea began to form in my mind. Over the next few days the. “It was just part of surviving.”“What do you do to relieve stress?”“I used to be able to do anything to relieve stress. Music used to relax me so much. Now music is the biggest source of stress I have. I have to be that much better than the next guy or else I don’t get into the grad school I want. You should understand that.”Admittedly, she did. She remembered back to her undergrad days, when she fought tooth and nail to be the best psych major there was, so she could have this assistanship. “I. “But what about my hands? They feel a bit strange too.”“Interesting,” Dr. Stone interjected. “maybe her arse could help? Actually my hands are feeling rather tingly… maybe Patricia could help me too?”“But I… I think…” But it was too late. She felt another two pairs of hands under her skirt, lifting her skirt, in her knickers. Soon she felt surrounded by the doctors. Soon her knickers were down round her thighs. Her dress was off her arms and heaped around her waist. One tit was being groped.. ..” I said. “An elephant wearing a bright yellow tutu was dancing out in the hallway when you came out of your bedroom this morning.”Bonny giggled. Then she punched me in the arm. It didn’t hurt but I said “Ow!” and rubbed my arm anyway.“Oh, so the elephant wasn’t dancing. I see. Then maybe the elephant was wearing a waiter’s uniform and invited you to sit down for a cup of tea using an outrageous French accent.”Bonny giggled again. “You’re silly,” she said.I felt proud.“So what was I supposed.