Here’s a story about how I inadvertently turned my innocent wife into an insatiable stoner.

First off, let me describe my wife. She is brunette, 5’4”, has 36C breasts, and an immaculate figure. We've been together since high school and got married right out of college. She grew up in a strict Christian household, while I grew up with very laid-back hippie parents. Needless to say, her parents weren’t too thrilled with her choice of husband, but they dealt with it. I was a huge stoner in high school and part of college, whereas she was not and refused to smoke due to her beliefs. So I never pressed the issue; she didn’t really care as long as I didn’t do it around her. Halfway through college, I quit smoking to focus more on school, and she was so proud of me that it didn’t bother me at the time to give up something I loved.

Flash forward: we'd both graduated from college, had a nice apartment in the city, and were starting to develop a nice routine. She was a high school English teacher, and I worked at a local law firm, building my way up the ladder. Our sex life wasn’t bad per se; we had sex once a week or two, but something was missing, and I started to feel like I was in a rut. While I was still insanely attracted to her, the spontaneity and passion were dwindling, and I didn’t know what to do.

I started to get anxiety and resorted to smoking weed every now and then just to take the edge off. I didn’t tell my wife because I knew it would really upset her. As I said, she came from a very religious background and was so happy when I decided to quit. This continued for a couple of months, and one Friday night, I had smoked a bit too much before coming home from the office and got a bit too faded. I told her that I was just exhausted and wanted to go to bed, mostly so she couldn’t tell how high I was.

I woke up the next morning and she wasn’t in bed, which was incredibly odd. But I thought maybe she hadn’t been able to sleep and just took a walk, which she was known to do from time to time. I got up, made some coffee, and walked by the entrance to our living room when I noticed her just sitting there on the ground with her head down in her hands. I ran in and asked her what was wrong.

She slowly looked up at me with tears in her eyes, a mix of mostly sadness and a little anger. I asked her again what was wrong, and she tossed my jacket at me and said, “You forgot to hang up your jacket; you just tossed it on the chair when you got home last night.”

I laughed a little and said, “I’m sorry, honey, but why would that upset you so badly?”

She looked at me and said, “It didn’t.” Holding out her hand, she showed me something and said, “This fell out of your pocket onto the chair.” She was holding my pipe and lighter.

My heart sank, and I felt awful. I tried to explain everything to her, from feeling in a rut, the anxiety, and not feeling passion anymore.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, then said, “Why wouldn’t you just tell me all of this? Why hide it? That hurts more than anything.”

I sat down, then looked at her and said, “I was embarrassed, I guess. I was afraid you would think I wasn't happy with you or attracted to you anymore. I just didn't want to hurt you, but I hurt you anyway.”

She looked at me, then at the pipe. “I thought you quit smoking marijuana; I was so proud of you.”

I told her that it wasn’t evil or bad and that it actually helped my anxiety. She said that she just didn’t want me addicted to drugs, to which I tried to explain how it’s not a hard drug like she was taught in church and could be used medicinally. I finally said, “If you just tried it, you’d see that it’s not that bad.”

I knew she wouldn’t because she said long ago that she’d never do drugs of any kind; she wouldn’t even drink alcohol.

So imagine my shock when she said, “Fine, I’ll try it then.”

I looked at her astonished and could only say, “Wait, what?”

She said that obviously it was something important to me and if she was going to understand it, then she should at least try it once. I was so excited that I didn’t know what to say or do, and for some reason, it REALLY turned me on—the thought of my shy, innocent wife doing something so... bad. I was instantly getting an erection. So finally, I said, “O-ok, when do you want to try it?”

She said, “Why not now?”

I gathered all my stuff and sat down beside her. I could tell she was nervous as I was packing the pipe and handed it to her. She looked at the pipe, examining it, then looked up and said, “Ok, how do I do it?”

I instructed her to put the pipe to her mouth, put her thumb over the carb hole, lit it, and told her to breathe in. After a second, I told her to move her thumb, and she sucked in a decent amount of smoke. Of course, she immediately started coughing her poor lungs out, so I went to the kitchen to get her some water. When I got back, she was sitting there with a small grin and a glazed look in her eyes.

I asked her how she felt, and she looked up and said, “I feel like, floaty, it’s nice,” and she giggled a little.

I said, “Oh yeah? You want to try again?” She giggled and nodded her head. So I gave her the pipe again and lit it for her; this time, she took a nice-sized hit and held it like a champ, then slowly exhaled. I couldn't believe how turned on I was; just seeing her exhale the smoke was driving me crazy.

She apparently noticed that I was excited and looked up at me and said, “Looks like someone is excited.” I nodded and smiled at her.

Whenever we had sex, it was always vanilla. Don’t get me wrong; my wife is gorgeous, but we mostly had a little foreplay, nothing crazy, then it was missionary till we were done. So imagine my shock when she yanked my shorts down and started voraciously sucking my dick, which is something she NEVER does. She was going at it like she was on death row and it was her last meal. I was in heaven.

I pulled her shirt off, exposing her perfect breasts, and started licking and sucking them while she played with herself, another thing she rarely did. I stood her up and started kissing her, then she turned around and bent over the couch, shaking her ass at me. I had always wanted to do her doggy style, but she was never into it, yet now she was borderline begging for it.

I slid inside her and started having sex with her from behind, and she started moaning, which turned me on even more, so I went harder. After a few minutes, she said, “Fuck me harder, I’m gonna cum.” I had never heard her cuss before, and it sent me over the edge as we both convulsed and came together.

Afterwards, we both lay naked on the floor of the living room. She still had a huge grin on her face, and I noticed that she was still playing with herself, so I moved myself down between her legs and started performing oral sex on her, which I had never done before because she was too uncomfortable with it. She came hard and squirted all over my face.

After a few minutes, she looked over at me, still glazed, and said, “I’m so fucking hungry.” I had to laugh hearing her talk like that, so I got up and ordered us some pizza. About a half-hour went by, and I was in the bathroom when I heard the doorbell ring. I said, “Honey, that’s the pizza, can you get the door?”

She said yes. I heard the door open, some small talk, then the pizza guy laughed and said something, and then the door closed. When I got into the living room, my wife was sitting on the floor, still completely naked, and eating pizza.

I said, “Holy shit! Did you answer the door like that?”

She looked at me and then looked down at herself and looked mortified, saying, “Oh my god! I can’t believe I just did that!” I laughed and told her it was fine and that the pizza guy got a hell of a tip. She said it wasn’t funny and seemed really embarrassed, which told me that the weed was wearing off.

I told her I was sorry for laughing, and we spent the rest of the day doing nothing. The next day, we got up, and she was back to her perfect, innocent self like yesterday hadn’t even happened. I walked up and hugged her from behind and said, “Well? How was it?”

“How was what?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes and said, “Your first time smoking weed!”

“It was okay,” she said, “not as bad as I thought it would be.”

I jumped back a little and said, “That’s it? Just okay?”

She just kind of shrugged and said, “Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.” I just shook my head.

That night, lying in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much it turned me on to see her smoke weed and, even more surprisingly, how much more it turned me on that another guy saw her naked. Which gave me an idea.