les histoires de chrislebo

Anna answered the door, when the bell rang. She led 3 men in. One I recognized as being one of the more outspoken at the last party; older, but distinguished. The other 2 men were big guys, typical 'stud' looking guys; briefly my mind pictured them as "the muscle" of the group.

"Eddie, we've met before, but I don't think we've ever been formally introduced. Everyone calls me Doc. I understand you are ready to join us in your role formally this evening, yes?"

I wanted to tell him that I had no idea what was going on, that I wanted to get out of this badly...but I knew better. Humbly, I answered respectfully. "Yes Sir."

He turned briefly to address his companions. "Gentlemen, why don't you trade out the vehicles. Anna, get the keys to the car in the garage, and help them out. They know what to do. I want to spend a minute talking with eddie."

His tone was clearly superior, like a real doctor...which later I found out he really was. He sat down on the couch next to me, and his tone seemed friendly, but I could sense the power that he knew he held.

"eddie, before we leave, you are going to be given something. But I need some information first." He proceeded to ask me medical questions, about allergies, my family history, and such. Satisfied, he opened a briefcase that I hadn't really noticed that he'd brought in. At that time, Anna came back in from the garage, and the 2 men were close behind her.

"Good, Anna dear, you're just in time. I need you to help with this." He focused intently on what he was doing, filling a syringe, while he spoke almost idly to us. "I need your help Anna, because I want this mental impact of what you're doing as well as the physical assistance. Take the bottle of holy water that you see there, and use one of the cotton balls to clean his arm, just like what you've had done or seen on TV. No, no, not there, right there..." he pointed to the crook of my arm. "See that big vein there? That's what we're shooting for."

I felt the trepidation inside, but was already mentally prepared to obey as expected. I knew that I had to go through this, that there just really was no other choice. And I didn't even know what it was that was happening.

"Good girl, Anna." His voice was so much like that of a grandman talking to a young girl. "Now, eddie, hold out your arm for me. Anna, you understand, yes?" I was missing something, but saw her slowly nod her head.

The prick into my arm stung. I've always hated shots. I know I should have been fearing for my life, but I was resigned. It didn't surprise me to feel the wooziness coming on. I leaned back, hearing his voice slowly becoming more distant. "Yes, good boy eddie, just lie back and relax, just let go." A soft chuckle. "When you wake, things will be different for you. Your life will be changed, and you will know your place finally." Then everything went black.

Anna watched as her husband quietly, obediently surrendered to being haveged. It had sunk in deeply, over the last month, that he was now so absorbed into this circle of darkness, that it really didn't surprise her that he allowed this to be done.

She was aware of her own descent, and had come to accept the simple fact that she had no control, and that even her own husband could no longer save them. Her hope, the small light that she focused on now, was the thought that maybe Mark would take care of them. He'd given her that hope, last weekend, when she'd made love to him like there was no tomorrow. He knew he had her, and she wanted to show him. All of the harshness from the past month had broken her down, and she now knew that she needed Mark, that she wanted him... she could even admit to herself that she loved him. She loved His control, she loved His power. And now it was something she needed; not just for her own desires, but for her own survival. She needed to belong to Him, in every way, to survive this.

This past week, Master Mark had spoken with her daily; she felt that he was confiding in her, telling her things....but still she honestly didn't know what was going to happen this weekend. She knew though, that both she and her husband would be haveged before leaving the house. She knew that she was to keep everything to herself, telling nothing to her husband, and even keeping silent to Those that she would come into contact with. She was to be the submissive, completely. And she was. It was more than just an act...it was now who she was; and she knew it.

She watched as her husband fell into a deep dream. Watched as the two men came around to strip him of his clothing, bind him up carefully, and then carry him out to their car that was now in the garage.

She then obediently stripped off her own clothing, and knelt down before Doc, holding her arm out willingly to accept her own haveging. It almost seemed euphoric, the whole situation, as she felt the haze come over her, fogging her mind into a driftless void.

Voices haunted my 'relax'. Pictures were painted in my mind, pictures of my wife as a slave, serving as a submissive sexual slut. Pictures of Cocks flooded my mind, their power over my wife as well as myself, images of myself kneeling and worshipping a large Cock, a darkly clad Master hazy in my view standing over me. I could feel arousal, aching arousal, unsatisfied bound arousal.

Slowly I came to realize my eyes were open, and some of the images were real. I could see a man clad in black leather near me, busy in some way. I could see bondage equipment everywhere, tables to bind people, chains hanging from the walls, a glow from a fireplace. I was lying on a table, my hands spread over my head clasped by metal holding them tightly. My legs were spread as well, widely, with my feet raised in stirrups holding them up and away from my body. I could feel a sensation between my legs; a wetness, and something touching me. Looking down in my haze, I could see a figure shaving me. My legs, my crotch, even my ass. It was a surreal sensation, in my still haveged state, feeling a hand testing the smoothness of my legs, even as my crotch was receiving the careful finishing touches of being denuded.

I realized that I was still hearing the voices that were making me see the Power of the Cock; it was in my head, and it wasn't coming from those in the room. Headphones. I had headphones on. The voice I could hear at the moment was a dark male voice, bold despite the whisper. "....nothing left for You now but to worship the Cock. There is no choice now, eddie. You will worship the Cock; all Cocks are superior to you. Your role, from here on out, is to provide pleasure to the Superior Cocks, in any way that's demanded of you. Your wife, the woman you love, she is there for the Cock. You are there for the Cock; your mouth is a portal for It, and you must always remember to obey the Cock."

It kept on, and on. I realized it had been in my head forever, it seemed. Slowly it came back to me that I'd allowed myself to be haveged; most likely the recording had been going on for hours now. Even as I tried to take in my surroundings, images of Cock Worship were there in my mind. It was a feeling inside of me, as if that's the way it had to be. My wife, myself....slaves to the Cock.

Anna slowly found herself in a dreamworld. She knew she'd been having a restless 'relax', with voices in her head reminding her of her new role serving the Group. Different male voices were still in her head, voices she recognized from the core Group that now owned her. Individually, she had hazy memories of them, with reminders that her body was no longer her own; she knew she did not belong to her husband anymore, and she knew that the man she loved was already being absorbed into presentation to them. The voices slowly became clearer to her, as she came out of her haveged state. She also realized that her eyes were open, and she was seeing feminine hands in front of her face, close to her, as they worked on putting makeup on her. Every now and then, something, fingers, manipulated her sex which she remembered was bare. Her arms were behind her, bound tightly; by the texture, it felt to be solid leather all the way up to her shoulders. As consciousness slowly came to her, she could see the background; there were a couple of men in the room talking seriously in a quiet manner. The voices in her head were coming from headphones, she realized. "Anna, every part of your body belongs to the Group. You know us now, and We know you. We know every part of you, every part of your life. Your husband is ours now, provided to us by your own carnal desires. It's too late to go back, and you know this. The marking on your bodies will be symbolic, known to all in our Group. From this moment on, you are no longer in control of anything. Every function of your body, from eating to breathing to sexual pleasure, it belongs to the group. Tonight, the special kind of branding will confirm that."

The voice went on, and was replaced by yet another dominant male voice, and the words remained in her mind even as she slowly came to grips with the position that she was now in.

After a time, Master Mark was before her, his calm smile soothing to her. The woman applying makeup to her had left, but still she could feel an occasional fingering of her now soaked need between her legs. She'd realized that her bondage also included a high-neck collar, one that kept her from looking down at her body that she knew was still naked.

Master Mark reached out to her, and she felt the headphones being removed. "Anna." Just the sound of his voice made her ache inside, and suddenly she wanted badly to feel him plunge into her. "Your husband is being prepared for your initiation, and it seems you are almost ready."

Chapter Twenty Three: Branding

Released from the table that was holding me while I was being shaved, 2 men held my arms and escorted me over to an area that could only be described as a small stage. Large, very comfortable-looking black leather chairs surrounded the area, although they were empty at the moment. I was led up the one step to the stage, and placed on a table/chair that was very similar to the one I'd just been in. On my back, the table seemed to be at a 45 degree angle; my feet were placed up in stirrups and strapped in. My arms were pulled down somewhat behind my back, fastened together under the table. Even with my head still foggy from the haveged state I'd been in, I was very aware of how helpless and exposed I was. The two men worked together to get me bound, and one of them focused on restraining my now naked genitals into a chastity device; once again, I knew that my arousal would even be controlled by these people. I was left to sit there with my imagination running overtime, and even while being left alone I could feel my bare cock straining to reach some kind of hardness.

Anna was led to the area where her husband had been restrained now for some time. She saw him bound as he was, and made eye contact with him briefly. Her heart ached to see him brought down so low, but she could also feel that her arousal was overriding everything. Master Mark was leading her to the same area, with a leash attached to the collar that was keeping her standing tall; her bare breast was thrust out, powerd out by the sleeve that bound her arms together behind her back. She noticed about a dozen men gathering around, settling into the black leather chairs that would afford each of them a solid view of the stage that she was led up onto next to her husband.

Standing there, with her head held up high by the collar, she was powerd to look up and out at the men watching; she could see the confidence in all of them, the cocky smiles that openly grinned at her beauty that was exposed to all of them.

Master Mark began speaking to the men as the lights dimmed even lower. "As you all know, we have before us today a beautiful wife, with her husband completely subdued and bound. Anna, and her husband eddie." The men let out an applause, and words of dark approval. "They are here tonight, to willingly surrender completely to our Group; isn't that right, Anna?"

As he directed the question at her, in that same moment, she saw a video camera in the background being worked by another member. The reality of this surreal world was crashing into her abruptly, but her own arousal hit home at the same moment...for in that brief moment of hesitation, Master Mark had reached down between her legs to toy with her wet clit, making her feel the heat burn inside again. "Yes Master" was her quiet response. At His urging, she repeated it more fully. "Yes Master... we're here tonight......willingly..... to surrender completely."

"No matter what, Anna?"

"No matter what."

"And you will do anything, comply with any direction, no matter what?"

Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "Yes Master, no matter what."

"Anna, we're going to take over your lives completely. In that, I mean that you will quit your job, Anna... you will become one of ours, and you will work for us daily. Is that what you want, Anna?"

She was trembling now, visibly shaken, but a quietly whispered "trust me" from Master Mark helped her remain strong enough to maintain herself. "Yes Master....i will do whatever it is that You tell me to do." Her response was soft, but solid.

"And your husband, eddie." He paused to walk over to her husband, His hand reaching down to run almost lovingly through his hair. "What of your husband, Anna?"

The presentation was overwhelming her, and it was plain in her voice. "We'll both do whatever you tell us to do, Master Mark."

"Anna, we're going to mark both of you tonight. Are you ready to watch your husband be branded as a submissive slave, a submissive slave to a group of men, Anna? Are you ready to be branded yourself? There's no turning back, you know. I need to hear it from you, from your lips. Ask us to brand your husband. Ask us to brand you both." Then his voice took on a darker tone. "Convince me, Anna."

She turned to him, tears streaming down her face, and then she suddenly knelt. "Please Master." A hesitation, then she continued. "Please Master...we'll obey You. Please mark us. Mark my husband. Mark me. Brand us as Yours."

We didn't know what the branding would be, although he explained it as a man with a small kit came up on the stage at Master Mark's gesture. "eddie, you are about to be branded with the mark of a cuckold; you just heard your wife beg for it, now I need to hear your consent." He pointed at the man with the video camera, and I knew what was expected.

My stomach had been sinking, the whole time I heard Master Mark's words, and my wife's words. I could see her plainly, as she knelt there with her arms bound behind her back, her breast jutting forward. She almost seemed proud to be on display like that; but I know it was the collar that kept her so tall, exposing her body to all of these men.

My hesitant interlude was interrupted by Master Mark's breath next to my ear. "eddie, remember what you said to me. You told me that you would do anything to protect your wife. Now is the time. Look into the camera, and state plainly that you wish to be marked. That you wish to be owned by us. That you surrender to us the control over your life, as well as over your wife." His whisper was strong, unwavering.

With my legs spread open, showing my now denuded crotch, and my cock locked away in a cage...I looked into the camera and surrendered. Shame flushed my face, but I knew it was where I belonged. I gave up myself, and my wife. I gave them the power.

As the tattoo artist began working on the soft bare skin right above my caged cock, Master Mark described the image being placed on me. It was 3 circles, one with a bold arrow piercing the female symbol/circle, and the male symbol that represented me had a 'soft' arrow, seeming to droop. Once it was completed, a heated branding iron was then brought over, and it was explained to me that it was an icon of their Group...the hind legs of a horse with a large cock jutting out. As the heat seared into my skin just above the tingling tattoo, I let out a small cry, and the tears came flowing down as the reality of being permanently marked forever in my status flooded my mind.

"Both a tattoo, and a physical burned in brand.... Those will last forever, eddie. And you will forever know what they mean. And now it's time for your wife."

I saw her face again, and it was wet with tears. She was made to sit down, leaning back against Master Mark, with her legs voluntarily spread wide. Her tattoo was a much more elaborate design of their icon, and it was placed right above her bare intimacy just like mine. I was told to watch, and to never take my eyes off of my wife while this was being done to her. At the same time, I felt a presence between my spread legs, and was suddenly slowly invaded. It was almost too much for me, but I was way beyond the point of ever hoping to get out of this. The tattoo on Anna took almost 30 minutes; the entire time, a cock was in my ass, slowly, ever so slowly fucking me. It was a large cock, and it infused in my mind everything that had happened. When the artist finally stepped back and said it was complete, the man who'd been fucking me chose that moment to release into me. The *** completed it all. I knew, and could feel the transformation in my mind as the liquid heat flooded deep into me.

Anna was then used....by every single man there. They spent all night using her. Part of the time, I was spoken to, as they pointed out what they'd done to each of us. I was told that she would quit her job on Monday, and then report to her new place of work on Tuesday. I was told that I would keep my job for now; but that a position was being developed just for me, and that soon I would be quitting my job as well. All of this was being stated, and done, to make us both know that we were now fully dependent on them. Our money, our livelihood...would all come from the Group, and that for us to survive, we would have to obey them in every way from now on. We would genuinely be dependent on those who now had our complete presentation. No way out.

A final cleaning and dressing was applied to my brand, and I was led away by a man whose name I didn't even know. I was taken to a small room that had walls of rock, with a very heavy wooden door; it was like a primister cell from a 3rd world country. A single bare toilet sat in one corner with a sink, and a small mattress was lying on the bare floor. It was lit by a single bulb that hung from the ceiling. I was locked away in there without prelude. Knowing it was late, and being so exhausted, I crumpled on the mattress and fell into a restless relax, not knowing the fate of my wife, and not really being able to even think about it.

Anna was nearly incoherent. She'd been used in every way possible, it seemed to her. She ached, physically, and mentally. The pain from her markings reminded her, in the back of her mind, the finality of it all.

She was aware of being carried away, taken to a room. Another of the many rooms in this mansion, but she didn't see much outside of the soft bed that she found herself on. She was no longer bound, but couldn't have lifted a finger if her life depended on it.

The man who'd been reference to as "Doc" was next to her, and she was vaguely aware of voices, although she wasn't able to really comprehend the conversation. A prick in her arm was felt, but the warmth that flowed into her had her even further out of it than she'd been from the exhaustion.

"There we go, that's the first of her many shots. If we can keep this going for 2 weeks, she'll be exactly the way we need."

Master Mark stood there, worn out himself, as he watched Doc inject this sexy woman that he was becoming attached to. Master Nick was there with him, watching with his ever present smirk.

Mark knew what the plans were, and there was no way to avoid it. It wouldn't be that bad, he told himself. The haveging that was planned for Anna would make her so much more pliable, close to the standard "dumb blonde", but almost in a "junkie" way. Chemically, they would make her need them, and make her completely unable to resist the brainwashing that was planned to make her so compliant. Her husband would see it, he would know it. His own conditioning would be done with little in the way of haves, although there would be some needed. But he would know what was being done to his wife. Sometimes Nick annoyed him, with his hardcore stance to it all; but he took all of that in stride. Nick had his own desires to handle everything with Eddie's incorporation into their world, and that suited Mark just fine.

"I'll head down and follow up with our new boy toy; you enjoy that slut tonight, if you can deal with the mess." Nick walked off with a light laugh that mildly annoyed Mark.

He laid down in exhaustion beside Anna, one hand idly tracing the beauty that was his now. He was arelax before 5 minutes had gone by.

Master Nick opened the locked door for Doc, and stood by as Eddie stirred from his relax.

Doc said very little, just opening his case, pulling out the hypodermic that had been prepped for Eddie, then injecting him. He stood and walked out, patting Nick on the shoulder with a "good night".

Master Nick knelt down in front of the dazed and subdued husband. "Well, eddie, it's begun. You're marked forever now, you know. And the plans we have for that sweet piece of ass you call your wife....mmmm." He leaned in conspiratorially. "But don't you worry, boy, we have plenty of plans for you too. Since you're so out of it but still conscious, I'm going to enjoy planting the thoughts in your mind. You should know that your lovely little wife is going to be bred. Yes, bred. Once the have procedures are complete, she'll then be impregnated....and no, not by you. There's nothing more erotic to some than to see a plump pregnant slut who's a slave. Imagine the things that will be done, the things that can be done to a pregnant slut. The milking, the videos; all of the control. Mmmm. And you, eddie. Can you feel the softness of your own mind, eddie? The silky smooth softness of your lower body, the permanent marking to show what you are, and the warmth inside from knowing that we're teaching you the pleasures of being a woman? You will be changed, mentally, as well as physically. Chemicals." He grinned as he stated it. "Certain chemicals can do incredible things to men, when introduced to their bodies. It'll affect your mind, your body, your sexuality. So much to do to you...and so much time. We have the rest of your life!" He reached down to stroke eddie's now smooth leg, then left to get his own relax.

Chapter Twenty Four:

The new life

It was mid afternoon before eddie's primister door opened again. He was groggy, stiff, and sore. A leash was clipped to his caged manhood, and he was led out of the room to a bland shower that had all of the appearance of a high-school locker room shower. An unsympathetic man had unclipped the leash, and muttered that eddie should take care of his morning needs and shower, that he'd be back in 30 minutes to get him. There was a toilet, beside the shower, so he utilized it. It chagrined him to realize that he had to sit to pee. His legs felt so bizarre, being so smooth. There was a toothbrush with toothpaste, so he used it in the shower. The water burned his newly acquired markings, but the water was clean and warm; it felt good to wash. The fog in his mind cleared up only slightly, and the images from all that had happened, as well as images from his dreams were still haunting him. He wondered where his wife was, and what time it was. But everything seemed so far away, and he followed his instructions automatically.

The same man who led him there came back and reattached the leash, leading him away with the same unsympathetic attitude. Up some stairs he was led, and then he was led out a back door to an expansive open outside area. The sun was out, but it wasn't too hot. As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he scanned around to see a large in-ground pool off to his left. Several people were enjoying the pool, and then he caught sight of his wife. She was actually lying on her stomach, fully nude, as a younger man he didn't recognize was massaging her with oil. Her face was turned toward her husband, but her eyes were closed. He also noticed that she had headphones on, and he briefly wondered if it was music or more of the magictic 'lesmisters' that she was listening to.

His attention was brought back to his own situation as he had just been led to a pair of posts that were solidly in the ground, spaced apart by a few feet. Standing between them, his wrists were lifted and cuffed to each post, and his ankles had the same chains, effectively spreading him in a standing spread-eagle. Then he was left alone, without a word being spoken to him.

Without any choice, I stood there basically immobile; left alone is when my arousal began to *** me yet again. Still bound with the cock cage, and it kept me from being able to get a full erection...the more it restricted, the more my body tried to respond. There was nothing to take my mind from this, because I kept focusing on the man who was rubbing oil into my naked wife. There were others at the pool, most lounging in the sun with takes, and a few were floating in the pool on rafts. Then I saw Master Mark come out in trunks; he knelt down, and was talking to the man rubbing her down as one of his hands idly moved some of her hair off of her face. She didn't seem to notice, or move; Master Mark seemed to smile, looking down at the beauty of my relaxed and naked wife.

Suddenly a presence was behind me, and a voice was speaking casually. "A beautiful scene, isn't it eddie?"

It was Master Nick. I didn't answer him, not knowing what was expected. The realization of how vulnerable I was seemed to set in; how humred, being bound outside like this was hitting home.

Master Nick moved in closer, so close that his breath could be felt on the back of my neck. "You know she's being conditioned. She's hardly even aware of her surroundings right now. She's on a regimen of haves now, and is so relaxed with the massaging. Can you see the headphones, eddie?" he paused long enough to take a take from the glass that he was holding. "She's listening to a very special program, one designed just for her. This is going to continue, day in and day out, until she's brainwashed the way we want her to be."

Suddenly his hand was caressing my bare ass, cupping it, feeling the smoothness from being so cleanly shaved. It sent a chill up my spine, and for some reamister that I can't stand, and can't understand, my arousal pushed even harder against the cock cage.

I could smell the holy water on his breath, as he continued in a heavy whisper. "You like that, don't you eddie. Seeing your wife haveged, controlled, used. And you like knowing that you can't do anything about it, don't you eddie." His hand was gripping my ass, feeling me so completely. I felt so strangely ***d, even though all he was doing was touching me. My head dropped down, shame making me suddenly feel so weak.

He laughed, enjoying my troured physical expression, enjoying it that I couldn't even answer him. "I'm sure you're hungry by now, eddie." He walked around to the front of me as he spoke. "You've slept half the day away. Let me get Doc, and then we'll take care of that hunger of yours." Glancing back at the pool, he caught sight of Doc, who was just walking out with his little briefcase. Waving to catch his attention, Doc waved back with a gesture that indicated he'd be over shortly.

"Ah, what timing...we'll let him take care of your wife first." He was back behind me, directing my attention to the pool. "Watch, eddie. Watch as your beloved wife gets more of her special 'treatment'."

I watched as Doc knelt down next to my wife. A couple of the men there came over to watch as he appeared to be assessing her beautiful ass, cupping it, and making comments to the men around. I could almost hear his words, talking about the shape, the beauty. Then he opened up his case and took out a syringe, filling it from a small bottle. She never moved, didn't budge as he then prepped a spot on her softness, then inserted the needle so professionally into her. Once he was done, he packed up his things and then made his way over to us. As he made his way over, Master Mark and another man helped Anna up and led her back into the house.

"Ah, good morning eddie, Nick. Or should I say good afternoon?" he was all happy and jovial, but all I could feel was the impending doom of my situation; our situation, my wife's and mine. "So, I think it's time for another dose of your own special medication, don't you think?" He walked around to set up behind me, and at the same time Master Nick came around to the front of me.

Master Nick then reached down to cup my caged genitals. "Relax, my boy, take your medicine like a good boy." He kept staring into my eyes, that ever present cocky smile making me know how much control I'd given up to him, to all of them.

"Now you're going to feel a little prick, eddie." Doc continued in his efficient professional manner, using an holy water swab to mark the spot that he intended to use. As of yet, I still had no idea what was being injected into me. I vaguely remembered being injected late last night, in my exhaustion from the night.

And to my own inner turmoil, I recognized how even the pin prick didn't ease the arousal that kept pressing against the cage, against the hand that was still holding my manhood firmly by Master Nick. My cheeks burned, and again, I wanted to just crumple down and cry.

Doc was done, and walked away humming a tune to himself as happy as could be.

Master Nick had left me there, strung up between the posts. It felt like I'd been there forever, and my arms were aching. Several times I'd been approached by different men who had stopped by on their way to the pool for a swim. Each had come out of the house, and each took time to comment to me about my wife; about how they'd just been in to see her, how sexy she was, and how much they'd just enjoyed "using" her. My gut was burning, and it didn't help that my caged cock continued to try to rise in arousal, particularly when the different men taunted me about using the woman I loved.

After a time, I was freed by a man who then led me back into the house by a leash. I know it was later in the afternoon, as the sun was slowly getting lower in the sky. I was led to yet another part of the house that I was unfamiliar with; as I rubbed my shoulders, trying to bring life back into them, I found myself in a room that was dimly lit. Soft music was playing, and I could make out the smell of some kind of smoke; it wasn't marijuana, but I know it was some kind of have. My eyes adjusted, and I could make out my wife. The sight was something out of a movie; it was a room full of pillows and plush lounge chairs. It reminded me of a porn movie I'd seen long ago; she was straddling a man I didn't know, naked, moving up and down slowly and erotically. Other men were there, some just watching, some stroking their cocks near to her. Her eyes were closed, and she was moving so erotically, totally into the orgy. Master Mark was there next to me, and he took the leash from the man who'd led me in.

"Isn't she beautiful, eddie? I've been watching her myself for quite a while; that's your wife eddie, she's becoming a complete whore for us here."

The shame was overwhelming me now. It hurt so much, so much to see her like that. To know that she was being so used, that she was allowing it, and even enjoying it. It was hitting me hard, that this was *my* woman, the woman I loved, the woman I was married with.

"Why? Why are you doing this to her?" My voice was weak and breaking. Pleading. Pathetic.

He turned to me, and I saw a coldness on his face, a hardness in his voice. "Because we can, eddie. Because she belongs to us now." It was a simple, straightforward answer. Very matter of fact. "I wanted you to see this, eddie, I wanted you to have this image of her in your mind as you go on to your next training session. I want you to know what's being done to her; this will be part of you now, and I want you to accept it. And believe it or not, eddie, you're going to learn to want this. Badly." A smile had crept into his voice as he spoke, and it gave me the impression of a snake that was making its prey know that it was already too late.

With that, he led me past the orgy that was focused on the woman I loved. Anna had seen me, only momentarily making eye contact with me, letting me know that she'd seen me there. But not for a moment did she stop what she was doing. Even as I was led by her, she reached out to take another cock in her hand, her lips and tongue working it as if there was nothing else in life but Cock. As that thought past through my mind, I was reminded of the conditioning tapes that I'd heard the night before. "It's all about the Cock."

Down a flight of stairs I was led, to another room that was dimly lit. With no surprise, I saw Master Nick there waiting. But he wasn't alone. Three other men were there with him, each looking to me like typical strong gay leather masters. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I knew I was now in for it.

Master Mark led me to them, pulling my leash to have me kneel before them. As he unclipped the leash, he bent down to whisper into my ear. "I'm going back to Anna now, eddie. I'm going to continue with her whoring lesmisters. Keep that in your mind, as your Masters teach you down here. Accept it, eddie. Accept what you are to become."

With that, he left me to my doom. And yet again.....my caged cock betrayed me, straining to reach arousal, burning a hole into my stomach with the fire that was contained by what was being done to us.


END

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Unwitting cuck, *** bull

I really couldn't believe it was happening. Even now, looking back from the vantage point of several months gone by, it seems kind of surreal. Except it did happen, and the situation continues to evolve and get more strange.
But that first time, on the boat at Lake Powell, it was like I was looking at two other people from a distance, through a soft-focus filter or some weird thing. I just couldn't get my head around it, but the holy water was probably partly responsible.

She was naked, obviously extremely aroused, and moaning softly as she sucked on my cock. I had tried to fight her off, I really had, but she had teased me and dared me all day, showing ever more of her body, brushing against me in the narrow passageways on the boat, rubbing the tanning lotion on real slow and even asking me to help her with the lotion, flashing her pussy at me and touching herself to make her large, prominent nipples stiffen. I had accepted her dare once, earlier that day, and touched her, fingering her to a small orgasm. If I had thought that would scare her or make her back off I had been badly mistaken!

She had me in a state of hyper-arousal since early afternoon, and she knew it, so when she began to grope me that evening my defenses were already weakened.

Kori and Ron were my best friends though, and had been since I'd bought the house next to theirs almost 8 years ago. We had spent countless hours together and had vacationed together before, and had in fact taken a houseboat trip at Lake Mead last summer along with another couple and my fiance Kristi.

Sure, on that trip there was some sexual tension and a lot of flirting and sexual jokes, and at times the double-entendre and sexual innuendo seemed almost non-stop, but nothing ever really happened. The ladies would go topless, and we would occasionally skinny-dip in the moonlight, but it was all pretty innocent.

We had such a great time on that trip that we all decided to repeat it this year, but it had turned into a complete fiasco. The other couple, Wendy and John, had cancelled at the last minute because of a death in the family, and we couldn't get our money back, and then Kristi threw another monkeywrench in the works that I will go into more later, and it wound up being just Ron, Kori, and me.

I had tried to beg off too, willing to forfeit my share of the payment, but Ron and Kori had worked me over and convinced me to come, insisting that I needed to relax and get away, and that it wouldn't be any fun for the 2 of them rattling around on that enormous boat.

Part of the reamister for my hesitancy was that Kori had been daring me and doing things to arouse and embarrass me for years, and, though I love her and Ron dearly, I wasn't sure how much more I could take. I know she just did it to tease, and because she liked to see me get all flustered. I felt sure she would never follow through on anything like this, but still!

I'm Adam by the way, and now I was about to be the sleazeball that was screwing his best friend's wife. We were on the main deck, in the combined living room/galley/main helm area, while Ron was at the second helm on the upper deck, guiding us into a narrow bay where we intended to anchor for the night. In other words, he was about 8' above us and about 10' forward, and his wife had my cock in her mouth.

"Kori, honey, we can't do this, are you crazy? I can't do this to Ron, and you shouldn't either." I tried again to push her away, but she had my balls in one hand and the other wrapped around the root of my cock, and showed no sign of letting go. I already felt guilty enough about touching her earlier in the day, after years of putting her off, and now this!

"No Adam, Ron won't care, I promise! He's OK with it, he's the one that first told me about how big you are and teased me about screwing you. Besides, I owe you one, and now I'm so damn horny! God, your cock must be a foot long!"

I didn't believe her about Ron going along with this, not for a second, although I could see him telling her that I was hung. He's not particularly well-endowed, and is in fact quite small, something I know from the locker room after our raquetball and golf games, and at the fitness center. While I hang at about 6 to 7 fairly thick inches flaccid, he looks like an acorn nestled in a bed of brown grass. At that time I had never seen him erect, but I couldn't imagine that he could get very large.

And while I'm not a foot long as Kori said, I do get to a very thick 10" when erect. Ron joked about it, and about the disparity in our sizes, so I figured it didn't really bother him. He even wormed out of me that my nickname in high school had been Mule, and occasionally called me that, which is no doubt how Kori had known.

When I had developed fairly suddenly from a tiny little boy dick at age 12 to this enormous schlong on my skinny little body by age 13 it had been the source of enormous embarassment in gym classes, and I had once been badly humiliated over it by a bitch bull-dyke gym teacher, but that's another story. I had been very self conscious about it, and had worked up a whole list of fake reamisters I could give when some girl asked why my friends called me Mule. I had taken to wearing a jock even under my street clothes, and especially in swim class under my suit.

Now it's not much of a factor to me one way or the other. I mean my body has grown into it, and of course I'd rather be well-endowed than under-endowed, but it's just genetics, luck of the draw. I hadn't done anything special to earn it, so I didn't get wrapped up in false pride about it either. It's like blue eyes or brown hair, it's just something that's part of you.

But now my best friend's wife had my cock in her mouth, she wanted to fuck me and wouldn't take no for an answer, and I could hear the engines throttling back as Ron guided us into a good stopping place for the night. This trip had started as a disaster, and it just keeps on getting better.

The trip would have fallen apart, and should have, when Kristi and I broke up about 2 weeks before we were to leave. At that point, with John and Wendy already out of the picture, we could have thrown ourselves on the mercy of the folks at the marina and taken whatever they would give us back. We'd be out thousands, but oh well.
Ron and Kori finally convinced me to go along with them, saying I needed it, and they did have that huge boat.

Kori was sure that I would give in and get back together with Kristi and that we would both wind up going along, and spent hours trying to talk me into it, but there was no way. Not after what she had done.

Kristi and I had been introduced by a mutual friend about 18 months earlier, and had immediately known we were meant for each other. It was one of those blind dates that you dread, but the rare one that really works out great.
As soon as I laid eyes on her I was caught by her beauty, the long, softly wavy honey blonde hair, sparkling blue-green eyes, full lips that always seemed to be smiling, and her long, lean 28 year old, 5'9" body.
She was athletic, and looked it. Smallish, firm perfect breasts, flat tummy, tight little round tush and strong, lean legs that reached all the way from her ass to the ground. Which was quite a distance.

It seemed like that whole first night passed in a haze of laughter, dancing, a few takes, more laughter, her pressing herself against me on the dance floor, and a long, lingering kiss goodnight when I drove her home. Six hours had gone by in a heartbeat, and I was happier than I had been in a very long time when she agreed to go out with me again the next night. We made a nice looking couple I think, me at 6'3" and about 200 pounds and only slightly older than her at 31, but I knew whenever we went out all eyes would be on her, which was fine by me.

I was certainly much happier than I had been in the final year or so of my first marriage, or since it had ended a couple years ago. Kristi was also once-divorced, and we had spent a few moments running down a list of our first mates multiple faults before we got off that subject, swearing never to return.
We had gone out every night for 5 days straight, and then I had to return to the job site in Wyoming. I'm a geological engineer of sorts, and have been working on a small oil shale research project in central Wyoming for the last several years. (Now it's getting crazy again, with $4.00 gas!)
The job is 9 straight days, 12 hours on and 12 off and then 5 days off in a 2 week cycle, and when on the job we stay in trailers on-site because the site is pretty much in the middle of nowhere and commuting back and forth (to anywhere!) daily would eat up far too much of our time.
It's kind of a rugged schedule, but you adjust, and it really worked well for me. Until now.
Now I was out in the boonies for 9 days, and Kristi was 350 miles away in Denver, and I couldn't stop thinking or talking about her. I know I drove the other guys nuts with my constant puppy love drivel, but I didn't care.

When my next endless 9-day cycle drew to a close, I set new speed records getting back to Denver, fortunately avoiding the Highway Patrol of both states, and after getting cleaned up met Kristi for a nice dinner and bottle or 2 of wine. I was relieved to find out that she was everything I expected and more, the time and distance had not skewed my judgement, and that night we made love for the first time.

OH MY GOD! We absolutely rocked each other's worlds! She was more beautiful than I could have imagined, her body spectacular, taut, warm and smooth. I could spend a lifetime exploring her and never become bored, her tight arms and strong shoulders, firm tits with nipples that pop out at even the slightest bit of arousal, flat muscular tummy with just the tiniest patch of hair where it meets her thighs, and those long legs that can wrap around me and hold me deep inside her as she squeezes my cock in her tight, slick pussy.
And that pussy! Well, I could wax poetic for awhile on that topic, but suffice to say that it is perfect, tight and beautiful, and wet and ready at a moments notice, and I was to become very intimately acquainted with it over the coming months.

For her part, she was very eager and horny, and was thrilled to discover that I was quite well endowed. She seemed to love fondling and sucking me, and would, in the coming months, do so almost anytime or anywhere.
In that 5 day span we spent very little time with clothes on, once or twice to run to the store for food, or to go to a restaurant, (The pizza delivery guy got a little peek as part of his tip) and I lost count of how many times we made love. It almost seemed like a constant thing, either I was in her, or we were fondling each other, or one (or both) of us was performing oral sex on the other.
Every time my lips or tongue would touch her wet pussy I would get an almost instant erection, even if I had just cum moments before. She smelled and tasted so good, and the sounds she would make when my tongue would flick at her hard little clit would always inspire more wood, no matter.
Once, right after I had cum a huge load deep inside of her, I slid down her body and buried my face in her wet, steamy pussy, using my tongue in long slow strokes to lap at her swollen lips and hard bud, pushing my tongue into her stretched opening and lapping up my own load. She came hard, and then again, and again, and I continued to give her sweet pussy a long slow tongue massage for the next 15 to 20 minutes.
She was begging me to stop, cumming, then begging me to stop and cumming again, but the whole time she was gripping my hair and holding my face tight to her, so I know she really didn't want me to stop.

Finally I moved back over her and pushed my cock, which I don't think had ever gone down after my last ejaculation, back inside her, driving it balls-deep into her wet heat. She cried out and arched her back, pushing herself against me to get every bit inside, and we both came hard as she ground her pubic bone against the base of my hard shaft, a new load inside her to replace the one I had just swallowed.
We collapsed and slept for 2 hours after that, and when I woke up she was propped up on one elbow looking down at me, and she looked tousled, well-fucked and gorgeous.
"God Adam, I've never cum like that before. Nobody has ever done what you did, that was so hot and so nasty. I loved it. I love you."
This startled and shocked me, but I quickly realized I felt the same. "Well, good, because I love you too. I feel like you are what's been missing all my life."
Which was true, I realized. Then she cried, and I might have even teared up just a little, and then our partings became even harder.

This became our pattern, the heart-breaking parting after every 5 day homestand, the interminable 9 days apart, the rush of heat and passion when we got back together, as much love and sex as we could jam into 5 days, then apart again.
After a few months I convinced her to give up her apartment when the lease was up and move into my house, and about 7 and a half months prior to our planned Lake Powell trip I had come home with a ring and, nervous as a teenager, popped the question. To my joy she said yes, and that is where we were when everything fell apart, still engaged but no date set for a wedding.
When she had moved into my house Ron and Kori, my neighbors and friends, had accepted her instantly, and the bond had grown strong between all of us since. They had never been crazy about my first wife, Lisa, nor she about them. Lisa was very self-centered and critical of others, and did not form friendships easily.
Lisa is a good looking woman, and I'm sure she has some other positive attributes, but I can't think of any right now. Wait - she made really good brownies! I like to be able to say nice things about people.
Anyhow, she's gone and best forgotten.
I remember the first time Ron and I had played golf after he met Kristi:

"So, Mule, apart from the obvious, what does this gorgeous woman see in you, do you suppose?"

"Thanks buddy, I appreciate your confidence. I'm not really sure myself, but whatever it is I hope she never wises up."

"She really is incredible, all that beauty and smart and sweet too! How's the sex?"

"Hey, you know me, I'm not one to kiss and tell. Fortunately for you, I am one to fuck and tell. It's incredible man, just fucking incredible. I mean, I'm 31 years old but with her I can go all night. I just can't get enough of her and she seems to feel the same about me. She is just so hot, and not at all shy about telling me what she wants or what feels good. I love that!"

"Sounds great. Do you think it's the real thing, or are you both just in it for the sex?"

I thought about that for a few seconds. "No, I'm sure it's for real. I think I really, really love this woman." I was a little shocked to realize how much, after only knowing her for a month. I hadn't expected to feel this way again after my marriage had failed.

"Hey now, don't get a squishy on me, tell me about the sex. Does she like your big ol' horse cock?"

I laughed at him. "Jesus man, has anyone ever told you you're a pig?"

"Yeah, all the time. So does she?"

"OK, yeah, she sure seems to. It didn't scare her at all, she can take the whole thing inside, she can almost take it all into her mouth and throat, and she's very much into multiple orgasms. Enough information? Oh, and she swallows. OK?"

"Hey, don't get mad at me, us little-dicked guys have to live vicariously through porn stars unless we're lucky enough to have a well hung best buddy that will share his experiences with us. OK, best buddy?"

I could only shake my head. "Man, you're an ass."

"You know Kori would love to have a shot at you, don't you? She's probably disappointed you found someone, she'd trade my little nubbin for a ride on your pole in a second, but now you're getting all you can handle. Too sad for Kori!"

"Knock it off Ron, don't say cuckolds brownie like that, you know she loves you."

"Of course she does, that's not the point."

By then we had arrived at the next tee box and the conversation shifted. I never did get to ask him what the point was.

Looking back, I guess that comment should have sent up a red flag for me, but I was pretty used to Ron saying some weird things. He's just one of those guys that is very open and genuine, there is nothing about himself he won't tell you if you ask or he feels like it, but on that occasion I failed to ask.
Ron is one of those guys that has 'made it', and done it on his own wits and will, and at his own risk. When I bought my house and met Ron and Kori it was an instant, natural friendship. They are both just so down to earth and caring that we clicked, as they do with many people, but when it became evident that Ron and I were to become good friends, I became comfortable enough to ask him what he does for a living.
It was obvious that he had done well, his home is easily twice the size of my 3,400 sq.ft. place and much more opulent with pool and poolhouse, beautiful landscaping, 4 car garage, the works. It looked like our homes should be in two different neighborhoods.
When I asked him about his work, he said "Well, I guess some people would describe me as a professional vulture. I prefer to think of myself as a 'distressed merchandise trader'."

I had no clue what that meant, so I asked for an explanation.

"I'm the guy that shows up, cash in hand, when somebody gets in trouble and has to part with some of their belongings to avoid bank repos, pay legal bills, settle a divorce, whatever. If they have something that I can pick up low and sell high, we do business. It helps them out, and makes me gobs of money."
I had a hunch that some of his clients didn't feel so blessed, but then again Ron can turn salt into sugar or sell sand to an Arab, so he probably left them feeling pretty good about their deal.

It turns out he had started doing this in a small way in college, bailing out friends, acting as, more or less, their permisteral pawn shop. As it began to grow and he recognized the potential he moved beyond buying stereos, computers, bikes, and musical instruments, and as he accumulated more cash he continued to reinvest it and move up-market, to cars, motorcycles, and larger items.
Along the way he cultivated a cadre of loan officers, car dealers, lawyers, etc that fed him tips, and he in turn directed a little cash or a favor their way. When I met him he had graduated to big ticket items: private planes, exotic cars, the occasional helicopter, boats, fine jewelry, art works - anything he could turn for a fast profit, and he was now a millionaire several times over. He took a lot of risk, but he knew his stuff and rarely guessed wrong.
Recently I had travelled with him to Bellingham, WA to look at a yacht that had become available there due to someone's permisteral financial reversal. He bought it, cash on the barrelhead, spent $25,000 getting it repaired and detailed and having a crew sail it to Marina Del Rey in California, and in less than a month sold it for almost $140,000 more than he had paid for it. A tidy profit for a little research and a few phone calls.

I know it's not that easy, but he made it seem so. The point to all this is that he never let success go to his head. There was no pretense to him, and he would still rather slam a few beers on a houseboat with his best friends than sip champagne at some posh resort, and Kori was just like him. They completely doted on each other.

I was thrilled when Kristi hit it off so well with them, and they were very happy for me when they saw how perfect she and I were together. Of course, that didn't stop Ron from hitting on her at every opportunity, but she took it with grace and humor, and I knew he was only half serious. Or less.
The bond between Kristi and them, as well as between Kristi and the other couple, John and Wendy, was really cemented when we all took that trip to Lake Mead last year.

I do pretty well in my line of work, but John and Wendy were a little concerned about the expense. We looked at all the websites and settled on a 54 foot boat that rented for around $6,000 for the week. Split 3 ways that wasn't too bad.
Ron, of course, wouldn't hear of it. He had to have the big luxury 70 footer that relaxs 12 (for the 6 of us) and has all the amenities, including a hot tub/spa on deck. Of course, it cost well over $10,000 for the week. Much as we objected, he insisted on paying for well over half the cost, and wound up buying most of the food and ***** as well. As he told all of us, in order to shut us up, "If I can't blow a little money having fun with the most important people in my life, what the hell is it good for?"

We knew he really meant every word, and were very touched. No more was ever said, and we went and had a blast. The bigger boat was great, and the hot tub was much appreciated. He had reserved a very similar boat at Lake Powell for this year, and we were all looking forward to the trip.

I was back up at my jobsite a little over 3 weeks before we were to join John and Wendy and head down to Lake Powell to meet up with Ron and Kori. They had rented the boat at Wahweap for 10 days this time, and were going to tool around by themselves for a couple days and then come to the marina at Bullfrog and pick up the rest of us for the remainder of the time. They only rented the bigger boats at Wahweap, but Bullfrog is about 2 or 3 less hours drive from Denver, so this was our plan.
When I got a permisteral call at the site, I knew it couldn't be anything good. I didn't know that it would be the beginning of the slide into a permisteral hell.

There is absolutely no cell phone signal out there, and nobody would be crazy enough to run a land line, so all we had was satellite phones (very expensive), and shortwave radio. It was understood that calls were pretty much for emergencies only. When I got on it was Kristi.

"Hi, Adam?"

"Yeah hon', it's me. What's going on?"

"Pretty horrible news. Wendy's dad died last night."

I had met her dad. Neat guy. Tough old bird, the greatest generation permisterified. "Oh man, that is bad news. Hey wait, I thought her mom was the sickly one."

"Yeah, she is. Her dad has been taking care of her for a couple of years now. He was strong as a horse, never sick a day. He was the rock, you know, but he had a massive coronary and died on the spot. They are all pretty devastated right now."

I knew they would be. Wendy's family is very close, and she loved her dad dearly. "Are they going back? Indiana, isn't it? What are they going to do about her mom?"

"Yeah, Ron already got one of his pilot buddies that owed him a favor to fly them back on his Lear. Muncie area. All at Ron's expense of course. They are still so in shock I don't even think they realized what was happening when we piled them into the plane. I know they haven't thought about her mom yet."

"Boy, that's tough. I really feel for them. Good of Ron to take charge. What can we do for them, anything?"

"Well, I'm watching their cat and watering the plants for them, getting their mail and paper, stuff like that. Right now the extended family is helping with her mom, but you know how that goes."

She was right, I did know. Pretty soon they would be left on their own with full responsibility. "Well, for now get some nice flowers ordered and make a good contribution to whatever charity they favor in her mom's name for me, OK? Hey listen, I have to go. I'll see you in a few days. Love you."

"Adam wait. Are you there?"

"Yup, still here."

"They cancelled out on the trip, they don't think they will be back by then with having to make arrangements for her mom and settling the estate and all. Plus they didn't think they'd feel much like having fun. Ron's such a sweetie, he powerd them to take their money back. He knew they could use it."

"Oh, that's too bad, the trip might have been good for them, but I understand. I'll give Ron another couple thousand, it's no big deal. Are you OK with just the 4 of us going? Is that the new plan?"

"That's it, and of course I'm fine with it. I can't wait to see you."

"Me too. One more trip home, 9 more endless days here, and we're off to the lake. We'll miss Wendy and John, but it will be fun. See you in a few days. Be good!"

"I will. Love you. Bye"

I'm glad I didn't know then that that last bit was a lie.

I thought a lot about Wendy and John that day, Wendy especially, and wished there was something more we could do for them. There rarely is in these situations except to pitch in where you can, tell them that you're thinking of them, and include them in your prayers.
I tried to immerse myself in my work and put their tragedy out of my head. That turned out to be necessary, because we'd been battling a bad hydraulic seal on a piece of equipment that we very much needed to keep running, and it was getting worse. We'd been waiting for a replacement which was being FedEx'ed to Rock Springs and then messengered out to us.
We had "custom engineered" it for the 5th or 6th time and had it working OK, when our main generator blew. And I mean blew, loud bang, sparks, black smoke, the works. We knew we were done, and had some expensive downtime ahead of us. The smaller generator is only enough to operate the lights in the trailers and a few small appliances, so we were toast.
That happened late on a Wednesday morning, and I wasn't due to leave until Friday afternoon, but when it became obvious that only the maintenance guy and mechanics would be of any use the rest of us split.

I didn't even take time to clean up, I was so looking forward to surprising Kristi and having a couple of extra days with her. I pushed my old beater Jeep through the rugged stuff as fast as I dared, and when I hit the paved road after about 90 minutes of bouncing, I pushed it up to the highest vibration level I could tolerate and set the cruise at 82mph.

I had my Sirius radio playing (regular stations are few, weak, and bad - farm reports, etc.), and I thought about Wendy and her dad, and John, and Ron and Kori of course, and a lot about Kristi. Maybe this weekend we could set a date, look at wedding venues, that kind of stuff.
It was time she made an honest man out of me, but we hadn't really discussed it much. I intended to ask Ron to be my best man, and I think she wanted Kori and Wendy on her side. My brother could be the other groomsman, and that was enough, we should keep it kind of small in my opinion. My thoughts wander like that when I drive or hike.

The time passed quickly, despite a stop for gas and snacks and some pretty nasty dust devils just north of Cheyenne, and soon I was starting to hit Denver traffic. Yuck. No wonder I liked being out in Wyoming so much! My commute was long, but none of this crap every day.

I pulled up in front of my house and stopped in the driveway, on the right side. I was glad to see her car in the garage on the left, but not too thrilled she'd left the door up. We leave my beater out all the time, and she parks her little Solstice on the left, because my baby gets full-time rights to the other side. It was there, seemingly fine under its cover, but if the door is left open someone could cause a lot of damage. I'd mention it later, but would come back out and close it in a minute, because I wanted to surprise her and she'd surely hear the door go down.

I snuck in quietly and shushed Ralph when he came wagging his old Lab body over to me. I fussed over him a little to settle him down, then looked around. It was very quiet, and I assumed Kristi was either upstairs or out back, so I crept up the steps. I'd probably scare the hell out of her, but she'd forgive me when she realized we had 2 extra days together!

When I got near the top of the steps I could hear her moaning, the sounds she makes in sexual heat only. Oh my god, I was finally going to catch her! My cock started to harden at the thought.
We had, some time ago, made a visit to an adult store in town, and had bought her a pretty large black dildo, supposedly modeled on some porn star's cock (she chose it, what does that tell you?), and one of those fancy artistic glass ones that are so expensive spending a cool $195 on toys to keep her fulfilled when I was gone.
She claimed to love them, especially the glass one, but she never let me watch her play. I desperately wanted to, I find a woman pleasuring herself to be very erotic, but she said as long as I was there she didn't need them.
Now, though, I was going to sneak in and watch her at play. Perversely, I kind of hoped she'd be using the big black cock.
Her moans grew louder as I got near the door to our room, and when I peeked around the door at first I was confused. There seemed to be too many feet, and my mind could not take in what I was seeing.
Kristi was kind of curled on one side, her arm and breasts against some ladyfucker's hip, her soft hair cascading across his stomach and thighs as she sucked his cock! He was flat on his back, feet apart, and I was looking at his hairy balls and fat shaft, and the side of Kristi's face as she eagerly sucked him, moaning as she does when aroused.

She had her legs curled up, and I could see her swollen pussy, and what could only be a stream of semen trailing out of her, across the back of her thigh, and onto my sheets, a sticky white pool against her leg. She had obviously fucked him once, and was now getting him hard for a repeat, which is a pattern I know well.

I was too stunned, too shocked and hurt to even speak. I could hear my heart hammering in my chest, and thought my head would explode, but I couldn't utter a sound. I think I started to hyperventilate.
As I stupidly stood there, it became like an out-of-body experience, like I was watching a movie. She stopped sucking him and raised up, shaking her hair back over her shoulders as she straddled him, her back to me.

I stared, unable to blink much less turn away, as she reached back and guided his 7" cock into her already cum-filled pussy. She began to grind on him, and I watched his cum slick cock slide in and out of her. Into my Kristi. Into my beautiful girl. Into the pussy that was all mine, and she came on him, moaning out her pleasure, and he groaned as he blasted another load of cum deep into my fiance'. And I coud see his cum running out of her, and hear their sounds, and smell the sex in the room, and I was disgusted to realize that my cock was rock hard and pulsing, ready to cum.
And that was when the anger hit, a white hot rage, and I grabbed a chair and threw it into the mirror on the dresser, shattering the chair and the mirror, silent no more.

Looking back I realize how glaringly stupid that was, getting so angry at them that I destroy MY chair, MY mirror, and blow a big hole in MY wall. Brilliant, but right then it didn't matter to me, not at all.

What it did do was give me an enormous advantage in shock and surprise, and they both shot out of the bed as though it was on fire, wide eyed and frightened.

"God damn you! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I'm sure I was shouting, I had to have been, but I don't remember.

I saw drops of cum spray off his still-erect cock as he tried to get his balance and put more distance between us, and their voices jumred together, but I seemed to hear mostly Kristi.
"Oh my god, Adam! I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry!"

I stared at her, my fists clenched, angry enough to do something really bad. She continued to apologize, crying now and pleading with me, and I could vaguely hear the mister of a bitch, accusing her.

"You said he wouldn't be home, you said he was out of town, far away, I wouldn't be here if I knew he was in town."

"That's obvious you chickencuckolds brownie ladyfucker. You better haul your sorry ass out of my house before I rip your fucking head off."

"OK, OK, just give me my clothes. I'm sorry, I'm going, OK?"

I realized I was between him and his clothes. I'm not a real intimidating presence at a slender 6'3' and 200 pounds, and I'm usually very laid back and easy going. This guy was probably close to my weight, but shorter and stockier, maybe 5'10" and muscular, but the element of surprise, the 3-day stubble, and the heavy work boots and dirty hands, dirty jeans and denim shirt probably made me seem much bigger and more threatening.
Plus he was stark naked, clutching a pillow in front of him, and I was extremely pissed off, and raging.

"I don't think so asshole, I think you need to just leave right now. GO!"

He made a move toward his pants, but I grabbed them first. "You want to try to take them from me asshole? C'mon take 'em!"

He backed into the corner, and I stepped toward him, pressing my advantage.
I heard Kristi saying "Leave him alone Adam, don't hurt him, it's my fault!
Please just let him go! Please Adam!" She was still crying.

I pulled his cell phone off his belt and held it out to him."You want to call for help asshole? Go ahead, here's your phone." Then I deliberately dropped it and crushed it under my boot. "Oops, too late. Sorry."
I pulled his wallet out next, and flipped it open. "Richard Monroe, huh? Dick is it? I bet your friends call you Little Dick, don't they?"

"You bastard, you busted my phone! C'mon, give me my pants, give me my wallet, man!"

I opened up his wallet's cash compartment and saw several bills inside, which I pulled out threw, brownietering them across the room.

"Fuck you man, that's my money!"

"Wrong, it used to be. I figure you owe me. Now GET OUT!" He grabbed for his pants again, and I caught his arm and used his own momentum to drag him across the room and slam him into the door frame. Any fight he had in him left instantly when his head cracked against the frame, and he sagged in my hand.

Now Kristi was screaming. "Oh my god Adam, stop it, please stop!"

While the mister of a bitch was dazed I cranked his wrist up between his shoulderblades and grabbed him by the back of the neck with my other hand, propelling him down the steps, through my house, out the door and onto the front walk, where he fell on the paving stones. Naked, except for his socks.

What an asshole, he's with the most beautiful, incredible woman he will probably ever get near, she's naked, they're in private, and he kept his socks on! Shithead. Still, the paving stones had to have hurt him, so that was good.

I stood in the doorway and watched as he got up, stumbling, and weaved across the lawn toward a red pickup just down the street, clutching his groin with both hands to cover his nudity. Yeah, that'll work. Asshole.

That part would have been funny if I wasn't still so damn mad. I saw him get in his truck and sit there, the fact that his keys were still upstairs in his pants probably hitting him and me about the same time. I did laugh at that, then slammed the door shut and locked it, turning to find Kristi on the bottom step, staring at me.

"Oh god Adam, I am so sorry. I fucked up bad baby, I'm so sorry." Her eyes were wide and red from crying, and she was still naked, and shaking. I could see that her neck and upper chest were still flushed with sex, like they get, and her nipples looked bruised and used. I could also see the sheen of his cum running down her thighs. She reeked of sex, a different smell than she and I make. I realized I was sniffing the air like an natural, knowing another had marked on my territory.

"Just sit down and shut up. I need to do something." She sat on the steps and buried her face in her hands. I could hear her sobbing.

I grabbed the phone and dialed 911. They answered instantly, and I said "I need the police, right away." She asked for more information, so I complied. "Yeah, I live at 5270 Robbins Court, and we've got a flasher or something. What? Yeah, there's some pervert sitting in a red pickup, he's naked, and he's been flashing people. Kids and stuff. I'm afraid he might grab a kid or try or attack someone or something. You gotta get someone out here right away. Yes ma'am, he's across the street from my house and down one house, you can't miss him it's the only red Ford truck. OK, thanks."

I turned to Kristi; she was staring at me, shocked. "Oh Adam, I can't believe you did that! He will get in so much trouble! He's not a bad guy, he's got a wife and kids, they'll find out. Oh, Adam, my god, what have you done!"

"What, now you care, you bitch? You didn't care about his wife while you were fucking him, you slut, and he obviously doesn't care about them."

Kristi recoiled as though I'd slapped her. She had never seen me get truly angry, not in all the months we'd been together, because I so rarely do. While I would never, ever, in any circumstances, hit a woman, I do have the nasty ability when the white hot rage is up to cut someone to ribbons using only words, angry words.

And now, completely out of control, I used this ability to hurt this beautiful, vulnerable woman, this agonized, suffering girl that meant more to me than life itself. She had hurt me badly, and, God help me, I had to hurt her back.

Sometimes I'm a real bastard.

I continued to lash out at her, calling her vile names and accusing her of things that I had no reamister to suspect were true. She tried, at first, to protest, to talk to me, but that just seemed to make it worse.

"Adam, it didn't mean anything, it was just sex. Please baby!"

"Oh so you're such a horny bitch that you can't keep your legs together for a few days while I'm gone, you have to have your cheating cuckolds browniehole lover over to fuck you, in my house!"

"He's not my lover, he's just a guy I met. I don't love him at all, we just had sex. God Adam, I love you, not him! I am so sorry."

"I guess that makes you a whore instead of a cheating bitch, sorry, my mistake. I thought us guys were supposed to be the pigs, but I managed to stay faithful to you." I knew when I said it that it wasn't true, not entirely, but I buried that thought.

She gave up after that, and I should have seen it and stopped, but I didn't. Kristi is a strong woman and smart, and not easily cowed by anyone, but now she just lowered her head and took it, letting me beat her with my hurt and anger. God, I should have stopped!

She stayed, sitting on the steps, and let me vent my rage, and I continued to cut her apart. She gradually folded in on herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and lowering her forehead onto her knees, her shoulders slumped and her long blonde curls falling around her face and down her calves.
The way she sat I could see the diamond on her engagement ring, and I paused, trying to figure out a way to use that to hurt her more. When I stopped, I heard her moaning, real low, and saw her body shudder with her sobs. She began to rock back and forth, clutching herself tightly, crying, and the fight just left me.

She looked like nothing so much as someone mourning a death, and I just stood and took in her misery. She was in so much pain, and I had a powerful urge to reach out and touch her, to take her into my arms and tell her everything would be all right, but it wouldn't, and I didn't.

Except for her soft crying it was quiet in the house. Ralph had disappeared at the first sign of trouble, as is his habit. He's a non-confrontational kind of dog.

I just felt empty now, except for the giant lead weight parked in my chest, and as the adrenaline was used up I felt weak. Even now, with all that had happened, I noticed how beautiful she was. Her tan legs, long and sleek and perfect, her blonde waves, her smooth flawless back where I could see her spine and her ribs, and the finely toned muscles rippling with her sobs.
After we had been silent for several minutes, she slowly raised her head, pushing her hair back with one hand, and looked at me. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes dark with pain and hurt, and I knew she was as devastated as I was.

I knew we had succeded in destroying us, and that I had succeeded in destroying her, this amazing, beautiful, wonderful woman that had brought me more happiness than my life had ever known. I was not proud of myself, but I couldn't say anything.

We didn't speak for quite awhile, we just looked at each other, searching each other's eyes for something we could grab onto. Barely audible, I heard myself say "You'd probably better leave."
I wasn't what I'd wanted to say, but it's what came out.

"Where will I go? I don't have anywhere, I live here now. I could just move to the guest room, you know, for tonight."

"No, I think you had better go, and not to Ron and Kori's either, they're my friends." One more mean, stupid, careless shot.

"Do I get to take clothes, or are you going to throw me out naked too?" She stood, facing me and squared her shouders, unashamed of her nakedness, a little of her fight returning to her. I was sort of relieved to see it

"No, just get dressed, and take some of your things. You should probably clean up a little too, you've got his cum all over you."

She looked down at herself, almost surprised. "Oh Adam, I'm so sorry!", and she ran up the stairs and into our room.

On the step where she'd been sitting was a shiny wet spot, their combined cum where it had run out of her and pooled around her ass, forming two soft curves of slick wetness .
Numb, I reached out and touched it with one finger. It was real, not a nightmare, and I heard the shower start up as I walked out to get a paper towel to clean the step.

I wiped up the spilled semen from my step, and threw away the towel. I was lost and disoriented, and wasn't sure what to do next. I glanced out the front window and saw two police cars, one in front and one in back of the mister of a bitch's truck. My vicious ploy had worked only too well.

I began to think about what Kristi had said, about his wife and kids. I could care less what happened to him, it would be the consequences of his own actions, but there was no reamister that she should feel as cuckolds browniety as I did right then, and I would be the cause of that. I may have destroyed more than one relationship in my anger, and that was cruel and senseless.
Like I said, I'm a bastard sometimes.

I saw one of the cops bring a blanket from his trunk, and they handed it to the SOB and then pulled him from his truck and walked him, wrapped in the blanket, to the rear patrol car where they lowered him into the back seat. He was wearing cuffs.

I saw the two cops talking for a moment, and looking over toward my house. Finally one of them, the older, more heavyset one, turned and began to walk across toward my place. I walked to the front door and opened it, stepping onto the front walk. I nodded at him, and he stopped a few feet in front of me.
"Good evening sir, can I talk to you for a few minutes?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"First sir, can I get your name?"

I told him my name, and to call me Adam. He was officer Sam Mathis. I invited him in to talk, and we stepped into the house. I sat at the end of the sofa, and he took the chair on the other side of the coffee table, facing me. He stared at me for a moment, perhaps judging if I posed any threat. Apparently not, he seemed to relax.

"Sir, the gentleman we just arrested claims you beat him up and threw him out of your house. Is that true?"

"Not entirely, no, and please call me Adam. I didn't beat him up or you'd be hauling him away in an ambulance. I just roughed him up a little in the process of throwing him out of my house." I paused. "Did he tell you what he did?"

He cleared his throat, and looked very uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah, he said you caught him and your wife together."

I laughed bitterly. "Not my wife, thank god, just my fiance', but yeah, that's what happened. What would you have done?"

Before he could answer, I saw his eyes move to the steps, and he looked up. I automatically turned my head to see what had distracted him and saw Kristi, on the second step down. Her hair was hanging down, dark, limp, and wet, and she had slipped into a simple white t-shirt and a snug pair of jeans. She was barefoot, and I could tell she was bra-less, and she looked vulnerable and hurt, sexy and incredible.

Officer Sam stared at her, and I heard him mutter "Christ! I'd have shot the ladyfucker's balls off."

Kristi looked down at us, silent and serious, and he turned back to me.
"Well Adam, he's not going to press any charges, but I would like to get his clothes back, if that's OK with you. We need to take him down to booking."

Kristi said "I'll get them", and disappeared back into our bedroom. Sam looked at me. "You didn't hurt her did you?"

I looked back at him, not knowing how to answer, so I told him the truth.
"Yeah, I did. I hurt her badly, I'm sure, but I never laid a finger on her."

Now he was the one at a loss.
"Oh, well, we can't arrest you for that, that's between you and her, but don't do anything stupid."

"You're a little late with that advice, officer. Are you arresting him?" Truth be told I hadn't even considered the SOB pressing charges against me, and of course he wouldn't, he'd be too embarassed.
Kristi returned carrying his clothes and handed them to Officer Sam just as he affirmed that they were indeed arresting him.
She stood right in front of him and looked him in the eye. "You shouldn't. He wasnt doing anything to anyone, Adam threw him outside naked, it wasn't his fault."
"Yes ma'am, I understand that, and we're going to let the lewd behavior charge go, but he had a rather large baggie of what appears to be a well known smokable organic plant material on his front seat, in plain view. We've got to bust him for that."
I couldn't contain a short, harsh laugh at that. Since the last time he had shot his load inside Kristi, his day had gone seriously downhill. Kristi shook her head. "He's such an immature jerk."
I looked at her. "And yet you fucked him."
She whipped around on me. 'Yeah, apparently my taste in men just sucks all over."
She disappeared back up the stairs, and Officer Sam looked uncomfortable again. "Adam, that wasn't very smart. You need to learn when to shut up."
I've been told that before. He turned to leave, carrying the clothes, and I stopped him. "Wait, there's one more thing of his."
I grabbed a baggie from the kitchen and ran up the steps. I walked into our bedroom - well, I guess it was my bedroom now, I'd have to get used to saying that - and knelt down and picked up every last piece of his crushed cell phone, even the tiny shards, and put them in the baggie, zipping it closed. I walked back down and handed it to Officer Sam.
"Here's his phone, wouldn't want to be accused of stealing it."

He held the bag up and shook it, looking at it. He smiled a little then. "I'm sorry for your loss Adam, I really am, but you are apparently a bad man to piss off. That 911 call was inspired, we'll be talking about that one down at the station for years."

"Mmm, thanks. Try to leave my name out of it, OK? I'd just as soon not have the whole world know."
He left then, and the other patrol car with the SOB in it was already gone.

Kristi came back down the stairs again, carrying a small bag. "I'm leaving. I'll come back sometime to get my stuff, I'll call so you don't have to see me." She stood, her shoulders slumped, her eyes searching my face.

"Where will you go?"

"You don't care, remember?"

"Yeah. Kristi...?"

She looked at me, waiting for me to finish. I should have said I was sorry for the things I'd said, I should have grabbed her and held her, and begged her not to leave, and told her I could forgive her if she could forgive me, and how much I loved her, but I didn't.
I said "Be careful", and I turned and walked away so she wouldn't see me crying, and I heard the door close behind her.

I wandered the house, going from room to room with tears streaming down my face. I couldn't believe how fast my happiness and excitement at getting a couple of extra days at home with Kristi had turned into anger and agony, offense and loneliness.
I just kept wandering from room to room, seeing reminders of her everywhere. Ralph followed me for awhile, then got bored and laid down and watched me. The second time I walked into our - I mean my - bedroom, I looked at the bed, the scene of the crime. I hadn't been able to look at it the first time.
There were several cum stains on my sheets, smaller ones, and two pretty large ones, wet still and showing dark against the sage green sheets, and I could smell the sex in the room. I ripped the sheets off the bed and balled them up, stepping into the hall and throwing the wad to the bottom of the steps. They landed with one of the large wet stains facing up, visible and taunting me.

I walked down and kicked the mass into the hall, and then collapsed in my chair. I'd wash them later, or maybe burn them. I buried my face in my hands and just sat there, numb.

I don't know how long I sat there, an hour, maybe more, but it was almost dark when I heard Ron knock on the door and let himself in like he does.
"Kristi, Adam, you here? Hello, anyone home?" He walked in and saw me.
"Hey, Adam, what'cha doing home early? I saw your car..."
He faltered, and stood looking at me, seeing my pain. "What's wrong man, you look like cuckolds brownie. Are you OK?"

"Oh, no, not really. I've definitely been better."

"What's going on?"

"Kristi's gone. We had a fight, so I guess that's that. Like they say, all good things must come to an end." I know I was tryng to act less devastated than I felt.

"No way man! Not you and Kristi, you guys are just way too good together. Whatever you did you tell her you're sorry and kiss her feet, you can't let her get away."

I just looked at him. Of course he would assume it was something I'd done, Kristi is just so sweet all the time, and I know Ron thought the world of her. Of me too, but he expects us men to screw up.
"I wish it was that easy Ron, but it wasn't me. She was fucking some other guy." There, it was out in the open, I'd been cuckolded, and my best friend knew.

He dropped onto the sofa. "Oh, cuckolds brownie. Are you sure?"

I laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say I'm pretty sure. I walked in on them."

"Oh, fuck! Oh buddy, I am so sorry. Oh my god. I don't believe this. I'm going to call Kori and have her come over. You need your friends around you now.

I really just wanted to be alone, but I didn't say so. He got Kori on his cell and asked her to come to "Adam and Kristi's house", but I didn't correct him, and I heard him tell her to grab "that bottle of Scotch" off the bar.

I sat there thinking about the word 'cuckold', of all things. I didn't like the word before, and now I hated it. I used to sneak old Playboy magazines from my dad's collection, to jerk off to when I was a kid, and they had a section back then called Ribald Tales. Maybe they still do, I don't know. The husbands in those stories seemed to be cuckolds most of the time, and the word was used a lot, so I was familiar with it. And now, as they say, I are one.
Kori showed up and Ron took the bottle from her and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with a couple of mugs and I watched him pour each of us a couple of fingers of "that Scotch", which turned out to be fine, expensive Macallan single malt.
"You're a classy guy Ron. I think I can do a little better than an old chipped coffee mug for a Macallan. You know, if you're planning to drown my sorrows, any old rotgut would work, this is a waste."

"Fuck you, a glass is a glass. Just take."

I did, and I was right, it was a waste. My mouth just tasted like copper, and I couldn't taste the fine smoky peat flavor of the Scotch. I did feel the warmth flow through my belly, which had felt cold and hard, so that was good.
Kori said "What happened? Why were the police here? What did you do?"
My friend's faith in me was astounding. "Tell us Adam, start from the beginning."

So I did, I told them the whole sorry tale, leaving out nothing, most of the time with my face buried in my hands and occasionally having to stop and collect myself. At some point Kori came over and sat on the arm of the chair, next to me, and put her arms around me, and then just sat and rubbed my back while I talked. I was glad Ron had called her.

When I was done we all just sat in silence for awhile and I heard Kori sniffle. I looked at her, and saw she had tears running down her face. She searched my eyes for a moment. "Adam, where is Kristi now?"

"I don't know, I told you I kicked her out."

"Oh , Adam!" She grabbed Ron's cell phone off the table and walked outside. Ron and I sat, not talking, and he poured us another take. That woud be my last, and it was right. Just enough to round off the sharp corners a little, soften the hurt.
I'm not one to drown my troubles in *****, never have been. I try to face up to things and deal with what life throws at me, but this time I knew it would be tough. A sick hangover would be no help at all.
After about 30 minutes on the phone, Kori came back in. We both looked at her, waiting. "She's OK, she went to Wendy and John's."
That was smart of her. She had been taking care of their place for them while they were back in Indiana and knew they wouldn't object to her staying there. I hadn't thought of that.
I was very relieved to hear that she was OK, and even kind of glad that she was not very far away. I don't know why that was important, but it was.
Ron and Kori sat with me until about midnight, just talking. They tried to assure me that this would blow over, that we could still make up, but I knew better. We had cut each other too deeply, both of us, and that kind of wound doesn't heal.
After they left I let Ralph out for awhile, then back in, and drank some water. I walked to my bedroom - I'm learning to say that - and just looked at the bare mattress.
In my mind I could still see them, her hand guiding his cock into her, him thrusting into her again and again, right in front of me, her long soft hair tumbling down her back and swinging with her movements as she rode his cock, his balls pressed to her ass as she took him deep, and could hear the sound of them cumming, and see the white, thick semen running from her and onto my bed as she cried out her orgasm.
I turned and walked to the guest bedroom and closed the door, laying down on the bed. My cock was rock hard, and I loathed myself for that.
I got up and went back to my room and got Kristi's pillow, and returned to the guest room, stripping naked before lying down, my thick cock thrusting out uselessly in front of me.
I laid on my back and put her pillow over my face, holding it down with both hands and smelling the scent of her shampoo, and her cologne, and the sweet feminine scent of her body. I felt my ejaculation start and the warm jets spattering down on my chest and stomach, and I laid there, not touching myself, and let it. My disgust and self-loathing knew no bounds, and I wondered what I had done to send her to another man.

I slept for awhile after that like you do sometimes, just the release of tension, but I woke up at 3:17. I hate those fucking digital clocks. I laid there awake for several minutes, feeling the crusty dried cum on my stomach, then got up and went in the bathroom and took a fast shower.

I wanted to go back to bed, but couldn't get my mind to turn off and just wandered around naked for awhile, then stood at my window and looked across at the SOB's truck, still parked where the police had left it. I thought they would have towed it in and impounded it, but apparently not. I gave some thought to going over and vandalizing the cuckolds brownie out of it, but decided I would be the most likely suspect for that action, and left it alone.

It dawned on me that I was standing bare-ass in front of a full length window, but it was after 3 a.m., so who cares.
All alone, freshly cuckolded, hurt, angry, miserable - this promised to be a long and lonely night. Inevitably I started to think about Kristi, both the good times over the last 18 months or so, and the bad times of the last few hours. How could everything turn to cuckolds brownie so fast!
Not to get too maudlin, but the first thing I thought of was that the last time I had seen her smile was when I woke her to tell her I was leaving to go back to work, about this same time several days ago. I always stayed home as long as possible, leaving in the early darkness for the long drive back.

She had woken up slowly, her silky hair mussed and sexy around her relaxy face.
"Mornin' baby. I have to get going."
She rolled over, exposing her breasts, and reached up and stroked my neck and cheek. "Mmmm, so soon. It seems like you just got here and now you're leaving."
We had made love a few hours ago, and I could smell the cum that was probably still leaking from her. I began to get hard, and when she ran her hand across my lap she felt it.
"If you can stay a little longer we can take care of that."

The thought of her pussy, still warm and creamy from the last time - god, now I was rock hard! "Very tempting you sexy thing, but I'm going to be a little late as is. I have to go. Hope I can fit this behind the wheel."
She smiled at that, beautiful and sensual, and we kissed and parted, yet again, to count the minutes.
If that was going to be the last of her smiles for me, at least it was a good one.

I thought long and hard that night about the why of what had happened, the usual self-pitying why-me crap, but I started by giving her all the blame. She was obviously a slut, an unfaithful whore that never really loved me, etc, etc, but I knew better inside.
Then it became the questioning of myself; was I not man enough for her? Had I done something to piss her off? Was she not satisfied with our sex life? How could that possibly be, we seemed so perfect? How long had this been going on?
That last one hurt. It had not occurred to me until then, my mind had grasped at the idea that I had caught her the first time she cheated, but how likely was that? Damn, now I really felt sick.

In my pain and exhaustion I focused in on what I could have done to drive her to this. Or, more accurately, what signals I could have sent that encouraged her to do this, and I began to remember a few things, to put them together.

Like the first time she saw my Baby, about 2 or 3 months after we'd met. I was doing a home improvement project, and had needed a little more light, and had sent her after the utility light on my workbench in the garage.
When she came back she said "Found it. What's under the cover out there?"

"Thanks, plug it in willya? That's my Baby, a car I bought from Ron, one of his finds. A classic."

"What is it? It looks like something fast. I love fast cars."

She must have hated riding around in my old Jeep. "Really? I didn't know that about you. Come on, I'll show you." Any excuse to avoid this project and show off my Baby. On the way to the garage I grabbed the keys from the drawer.

I walked to the rear of the car and began to lift the cover off, and as soon as it cleared one taillight Kristi had said "Oh my god, is that a Shelby? I love Shelby's!"
I was impressed. As I continued to lift the cover, she said "A '67 I'll bet, it's got to be a '67." She was right, a 1967 Shelby Mustang (nee:Cobra), red with the white stripes, and she was very excited.
"Is it a 350 or a 500? Oh my god, it's the GT500, why have you been keeping this secret? That big honkin' 428 in this little machine, it must fly!"
Now I was really impressed. This was a whole new side of her, and the delight on her face was plain to see.

"I didn't know you liked cars, I didn't want to bore you with it. Ron got it for a steal, and when he saw how much I loved it he sold it to me for what he paid, and it was too good to pass up."

"Is everything correct? Do the numbers match? Oh jeez, it's the early year model with the foglights close together. My favorite!" No wonder I loved this woman!!
"Wow! Gorgeous, smart, sexy and loves cars! Are you real? Come here, let me pinch you to see. And yes, it's all correct."

"Do you know what this is worth?"

"Doesn't matter, I'm not planning to sell it."

"Can I ask what you paid Ron for it?"

"Sure, like I said, what he paid, $29,000. He said he got it from a guy that was keeping his wife from getting it in the divorce, for instant cash on the spot."
"Bullcuckolds brownie. He didn't get it for $29,000. It's worth 4 times that, maybe a lot more if everything is original and in good shape. He gave you a gift Adam, you gullible fool."

"Well, he's a dealer, he gets stuff like that. And I took him and Kori out for dinner at Brook's Steakhouse."

"Still, you stole it. You owe him big time. Can we fire it up? Too bad it's so sloppy out, I'd make you let me drive it!" Now I knew she was for real. Most women would have expected me to take it out, despite the slush and ice melt chemicals still on the street from last night's snow. And her drive it? Hmmm...
I tossed her the keys, and she fired it up. It started instantly.
"Oh my god, listen to the muscles!" She sniffed the air. "It's running a little rich - that should even out when it warms up." This was starting to turn me on!
Then she said "Beautiful, smooth, powerful - this is making me wet!" She blipped the throttle a couple of times to hear the roar.

"So hot cars make you horny, huh?"

"Well, yeah, that, and I gave my first blow-job in a car like this. Well, not just like this, but it was a '67 Mustang."

I tried to be casual. "So, who was the lucky guy, and how old were you?"

"Well let's see, I was a freshman in high school, so I was 15, almost 16. He was a senior though so he was 18, and on the football team."

"Let me guess, you were a cheerleader and he was the star quarterback."

"Don't be a smart ass. No, I was just a girl and he was a linebacker, but he was my boyfrined at the time, and I was sure he loved me. But I was still a virgin, so don't go getting the wrong impression!"
She blipped the throttle again, then sadly shut it off, leaving the key in the ignition.
"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Hey, in for a penny, in for a pound. Go on." I was dying to hear this. It was a long time ago, so it was OK, right?

"Well, we'd been dating for a few weeks, and we had kissed and petted - he was only the second guy whose cock I'd touched - and he had cum in my hands a couple of times, but we weren't having sex.
I wanted to, I was so horny all the time from handling his cock, and him touching me and sucking on my nipples, and when he would cum on me, oh my god I loved that! But I was scared of getting pregnant, or that it would hurt, you know."
She was still sitting in my car, which put her at eye level with my crotch, and she noticed that my pants were stretched tight over an enormous hard-on. She reached out and ran her fingers over my bulge, and I groaned.

"This is really turning you on, isn't it? Do you like hearing about me with another guy?"

"It was a long time ago, right? And you don't know him anymore? OK, so go on."

"First we better free that so you don't hurt yourself." She undid my belt and zipper, and tugged my pants down, right there in my garage, and my cock flopped out, long, thick, and very, very hard.
"Mmm, very nice. Lot's bigger than the one I'm talking about, thank goodness, or it might have raised my expectations unrealistically."

She continued to stroke me very lightly with her fingertips as she went on with her story. I ached.

"Well, that day we were playing with each other, out in the woods in his dad's Mustang, and he told me to be careful 'cause he got hit in the balls at football practice and was sore and swollen. So I asked him to show me, and he did, he got out and stood, kind of like you're standing now, and dropped his pants."
My heart was pounding as she stroked me, ever so lightly.
"His cock was sticking straight up and hard, maybe only 7", but it seemed huge to me, and his balls did look swollen, and red. He said I should kiss them and make them feel better. I don't think he thought I would do it, but he was wrong."

The thought of this gorgeous woman, as the gorgeous teenager she must have been, leaning forward to touch her lips to a man in that way for the first time - oh god, I was shivering with excitement.

Well, I kissed them a little, he smelled kind of good, musky and soapy, then I licked them, then I sucked on one and put it in my mouth, and he was groaning. I felt like fireworks going off in my pussy, and I was so wet!"

I felt like I could cum any second, I was seeing this play out in my mind, and had a few fireworks of my own.

"Wow, you're leaking a lot! You're really liking this, huh?" I could only nod.
She licked up my leakage, and went on.
"Well, then I licked all the way up his shaft, and it just seemed natural to take him in my mouth, so I did. I loved it, it just felt so good, hard and smooth and hot, and it made me cum a little."

I felt about to do that myself, but I wanted to hear the rest of this story!

"Go on."

"I guess, you know, I sucked him a little, just enjoying the sensation. It felt so...oh, I don't know, sensual, I guess, the head of his cock on my tongue, and how hard he was, so I swirled my tongue over him, kind of like this...."

She took me suddenly and deeply into her mouth, and I could feel her tongue moving just behind the head of my cock, teasing me. I groaned, and she relented, laughing.

"Wow, you're really getting off on this! Who knew you were so kinky! So do you want to hear the rest?"

Silly question, and I said so. "There's no way you can stop now, c'mon, tell me."

"Well, there's not much more to tell. He almost always would cum pretty quick, and this time it was just almost instantly. He spurted in my mouth and first I thought I would gag, I didn't know what to do, and he just kept on cumming, spurt after spurt."
Her eyes kind of had this dreamy look, lost in the memory of the sensation of the first time a guy had shot his load in her mouth.

I could understand how turned on he must have been, and why he would have cum so hard. She continued to slowly stroke my hard and now wet cock as she told the story.

"I just held him there in my mouth, catching all his cum, and I started to realy feel it, warm and thick in my mouth, and I came too. God, I was so wet and horny!"

"So you really enjoyed giving your first blow-job?"

"You have no idea! I still do, as you know so well."
She began to suck me again then, seriously this time, stroking my cock with one hand as she sucked, and squeezing my balls with the other. I don't know how long it took, certainly not over a minute, before I too was spurting a substantial load into her mouth.
She continued to work me over until I had run dry, then backed off and swallowed. "Mmmm, I still love a nice big load of fresh cum."

"Uhh, did you swallow that first time too?"

"Yup, I did. That was a little iffy, but I didn't know what the right thing to do was, so I did that. And I always have ever since, unless I'm showing off or we're playing or something."
I knew what she meant, sometimes she would let it run from her mouth and down onto her breasts or something, just to put on a show, or maybe make me cum all over her face and then make a big show of kissing me and rubbing it on my face. Harmless sticky fun like that.

"I still can't believe how turned on you got about me and another guy."

I lied: "No, it was just thinking about you as that little teenager, such a sexy little thing. That guy didn't have a chance."

She had turned then, and taken the keys from the ignition, and stood up, closing the door behind her. "Remember, next nice day you take me out for a drive, except I drive."

"No problem." What could I say, she'd just given me a great orgasm, and I was feeling very mellow. I started to get my pants pulled back up, but apparently we weren't done.

She then grabbed my half-hard cock and, leading me by that convenient handle, led me into the house and up to our bedroom.

"My turn bub, you owe me one for telling you about that. Lay down."

So saying, she pushed me backwards, and I fell onto the bed. She got out of her tight jeans quicker than I would have thought possible and straddled me, knee walking until she was over my face. I could see her arousal, pussy wet and swollen as she lowered herself to my waiting lips and tongue.
She was kidding me about being turned on but she was just as bad, steamy wet and so hot. I began to slowly lick her, back to front, pushing my tongue into her as far as I could and swallowing her sweet juices.

She came suddenly, hard and fast as she ground herself into my face. I thought I might ***, but what a great way to go! After that first rush of orgasm she found her pace, and continued to ride my face as I brought her to one, and then another, a whole series of slightly smaller ones, and we did this for probably 20 minutes or more before she realized I was rock hard again and moved back, taking me into her soaking pussy.

The urgent need taken care of, we had made love slow and gentle, feeling the sensation of our bodies moving against and within each other, and somehow we had finished with me on top of her, looking down into her beautiful face as she concentrated, eyes closed, wanting to feel every spurt of cum that I was pouring into her body.

Over the next several months she told me a few other stories like that one, and teased me, knowing how aroused I always became. We weren't kids anymore, we had both had a number of other lovers. We'd each been married for Pete's sake, but it's odd that she never asked me to tell her about any of my own experiences in that regard.
I really didn't think of that until then, that endless night when I had nothing to do except think, and feel bad, alternately hating her and missing her, but mostly hating myself.

stormydog

Voir mister profil

687
# Posté le: 26 Juil 2008 18:52:56 · Edité par: stormydog
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By the time it began to get light in the eastern sky I had rationalized away most of my fears. Surely she could not have misconstrued my interest and arousal at hearing about her past sexual encounters to mean that I would be OK with her fucking other men now, while we were together. That was clearly ludicrous.

Exhausted, I dozed a little as the sun came up, only to be awakened by a ringing phone at about quarter after seven. I grabbed it without looking at the caller ID, hoping that maybe it was Kristi. It turned out to be Kori, wanting to know if I wanted to join them for breakfast. She had cranberry muffins in the oven, and she knows they're my favorites.

I didn't much want either food or company, but I accepted and walked to my room to get some clothes. I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of cotton knit workout shorts, tying the drawstring, splashing some cold water in my face and running a comb through my hair.
I wandered across our yards, Ralph trailing at my heels, and when I opened their back door he walked right in. He's very at home at their place, they used to keep him for me while I was out at the job sites before Kristi had come along. He flopped down in front of their fireplace with a heavy sigh.

Ron looked at him. "I don't know who the bigger sad sack is this morning, you or the furball."

"Yeah, he misses Kristi, no doubt. He searched the whole house for her this morning. Some loyal mutt, hell, he's her dog now more than he's mine, but she spoils him."

Kori walked into the kitchen and gave me a hug and a quick kiss. "Morning Adam, you want some coffee?"

"Sure, and an OJ if you've got some." They always did. This was kind of a ritual of ours, whenever one household would fix something for breakfast beyond the usual cereal or toast we would invite the other over to join us.
It might be pancakes, waffles, bacon and eggs, muffins, whatever - we did this generally at least once on most weekends, but today we were one permister short and that was noticed but not acknowledged. When I'm home my weekdays are very open, but the other three had responsibilities, so today was unusual in that regard as well.

Today, of course, was a Thursday, and Ron was dressed in pressed khakis and a pink (of all things!) golf shirt, so I knew he was going to the office or out on an acquisition or sales meeting. He has a great office in his home and doesn't really need a separate office, but he maintains one above a local bank, for "credibility", he says.

Kori was dressed in a very short silky robe, and as I watched her breasts move underneath it was very apparent that the light robe was all she was wearing. Kori has a cute body, and very nice breasts, larger than Kristi's but softer, and I absent mindedly watched them sway and bounce as she moved to get my juice.
I turned to say something to Ron, and found him watching me watch his wife.
I grinned at him. "Oops, busted! Sorry about that."

He laughed. "No problem dude, you can't help it. We're wired that way. Hey honey, stop shaking your tits around the kitchen, you're driving this poor injured boy to distraction!"
She turned toward us and did a quick shimmy, which really caused her boobs to bounce, and we all laughed. It felt good to laugh, and I was glad I had come over. Kori's pretty intuitive that way, she just knows what people need, even sometimes when they don't know themselves.

She set my juice on the breakfast bar in front of me and was turning to grab the coffee when the oven timer sounded.
I started to move to get my own coffee, but Ron grabbed my arm and whispered "Wait, watch this."
Kori grabbed a hot pad and turned off the oven, opening the door to retrieve the muffins. When she bent to reach for them the side of her robe fell open where it was split, and we were treated to a side view of tanned, toned naked lady from the bottom of her ribs to her feet.

My eyes traced the soft curve of the back of her thigh to where it met her smoothly rounded ass, and I flashed on what it might feel like to slip my hand under her leg and let my fingers find her warm, moist patch of soft down. I felt my cock stir to life. I never have been able to control that damn thing.
As she moved to the table with the hot muffin tin I stepped past her to the coffee pot, trying to keep an angle that would mask my growing problem. I was regretting my choice of the thin knit shorts, and I dawdled a little over the pot, hoping for my physical difficulty to subside a little.

It wasn't that Kori was unaware of what I was packing, I was sure Ron had told her, and I know that she and Kristi had few secrets. She had also seen me naked at Lake Mead the previous year, although that had been when we all went skinny dipping in the dark and I had not had an erection. Plus, the lake water is fairly cold.
The problem was that whenever she would notice that I had any bulge showing she would make comments, and those comments usually embarassed me a little and seemed hurtful to Ron, although he never gave any sign. Today would be no exception.
She turned from the counter just as I moved back toward it, coffee in hand. Her eyes dropped immediately to my crotch, where my mostly hard cock was outlined against the thin material. She looked for several long seconds. "Damn, Adam! Who was the clown that said that all men are created equal?"

Me being self-conscious about her attention made me blush, and it made my cock get harder. It always happens that way, when I'm humiliated about my lack of self-control and wish it would go away it does just the opposite. "C'mon Kori, you know I can't help it. Please can we just eat?"

Then of course, Ron had to chime in: "OK you two, unless you're going to fuck right here on the kitchen floor, let's knock it off and eat the muffins while they're hot."
That broke the tension, but as Kori stepped past me to put the empty tin in the sink she whispered "You will have to show that to me someday you know."
There wasn't much more that I could show her than what she had just seen; I think those shorts hid very little. I should have worn some jockeys underneath, but I was planning to run back home and shower and hadn't bothered. Live and learn.
The rest of the breakfast went very uneventfully, we talked a little about Kristi, and Kori tried to encourage me to call her. I was not receptive to that idea, I was still hurting too much. Ron stayed out of that part of the conversation. I was reminded that Kori had to leave shortly to go do her volunteer work.
They had decided when they became comfortable with Ron's substantial income that Kori could quit her job (she'd been an elementary school teacher) and do volunteer work. She was involved in several things, but today was her day to be at the natural shelter by 10:00.
We finished eating, and Ron left for work while I helped Kori clear the dishes away and clean up the kitchen. I was painfully aware of how poorly that light robe concealed her body.

"Thanks for your help Adam. I need to go start getting ready. Are you going to be OK today?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I was lying. "I'll see you guys later. Thanks for the breakfast, and you know, for calling."

She smiled. "I just figured you could use some company. Hey, you're starting to get pretty shaggy. You want me to cut your hair later, when I get home?"

I ran my hand through my hair. "Sure, it could use it. Call me when you get back and I'll come over." She had started cutting my hair shortly after we became friends, and I hadn't had a bad haircut or paid for one since.

"OK, it'll be around 3:00. And Adam? Call Kristi. You'll hate yourself if you don't. I know you're a better man than this."

"K, (sometimes I just called her K. We had a very easy familiarity with each other) I don't know if I can. It's so soon, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to. Let's just give it some time, OK?" Inside, I was hoping that Kristi would call me. Stubborn. More than one reamister I was called Mule.

She gave me another quick kiss and left to get dressed, and I whistled up Ralph and headed for home.

I grabbed a quick shower when I got home, and then got sidetracked into putting away a few of Kristi's things. She had taken the essentials - her toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush and comb, a few of her magic potions from the shower - but there were still a lot of reminders of her around and I put them away in a drawer and in the closet where they wouldn't be a constant painful reminder. She'd said she would get them later.

Earlier I had entertained thoughts of just throwing all her stuff away, or out on the lawn, but now the anger had mostly burned out and been replaced by a dull ache, a hurt deep inside, and I was able to reamister more clearly. I'd just let her pick up her belongings when she needed them.
I was tired, and emotionally exhausted, but I had this nervous energy that would not allow me to sit still. Realizing I was still naked, I put the shorts I had worn earlier back on, and some shoes, and went out in the garage to putter with a few things.
I found some stuff I'd bought to repair a bad sprinkler head in the front yard, and launched into that chore. It was pretty easy, and yet I'd been putting it off. The sun felt good on my shoulders, and I noticed the lawn was looking about as shaggy as I was.
I fired up the mower and got going on that, pushing it hard and fast, burning off some of that energy and working up a good sweat. I should have held off on that shower.
I stopped at one point, breathing heavily, and just stood and looked at the red pickup still parked across the street.
I was idly pondering just what effect a bottle of very briny saltwater poured into the gas tank might have when Sue, the neighbor on the other side, called out to me.
"Hi Adam! What are you doing home? You're not due 'til tomorrow are you?"
I was a little surprised she knew my schedule that well, but she probably talked to Kristi from time to time.
"Yeah, no, you're right, we had some problems and had to shut down for a couple days, so I got a break."
We spoke with Sue and her husband Rick or their two young girls from time to time, but were not real close. Just kind of "over the fence" friends, although we had no fences.
She had been weeding in her yard and had seen me looking at the truck. Now she walked over to me. "So who's truck is that over there? It's been there since yesterday, but I don't think it belongs to anyone around here."

I didn't exactly lie to her, just omitted some of the facts. "I saw the cops bust a guy yesterday, it was his truck. A have bust I heard, they got him for marijuana possession." I was glad that he'd gotten busted for that instead of the public nudity / lewd conduct charge I'd tried for, although him having to register as a sex offender would have been sweet.

His wife would no doubt be pissed about the have charge, if she didn't already know, but at least it spared her the heartache of knowing he was cheating on her. She'd probably find out eventually, the guy seemed way stupid, but it was good to know that when he hurt her it wouldn't be my fault in any way.
Sue continued. "Well, serves him right then. They should have towed his truck in too and confibrownieed it."

"They still might."

"I suppose. You look like you're working hard. I have some cold lemonade if you want some."
I was surprised. This was somewhat out of character for her to be this friendly. "Uh, sure Sue, that sounds great, if I can talk you into bringing me a glass. I have some stuff I need to finish up today."
"Sure Adam no problem. Is Kristi at work today?"

I realized I didn't know. Weird. "Yeah, I'm sure she is, you know her." Kristi is a commercial real estate broker, and loves her work. And, being competitive by nature, is quite good at it. Like most people that work on commission, she has long dry spells interrupted by big scores when a deal closes, but she is disciplined about budgeting her funds and is well beyond the struggling beginner stage.
Sue left to get the lemonade, and I dived back into the lawn mowing, punishing myself on the uphills. She was gone awhile, and I finished up the job just as Sue returned carrying 2 glasses.
"I thought I'd join you. Let's sit on your patio, in the shade." As we walked back to my patio I couldn't help but notice that Sue had changed out of her baggy gardening clothes into a somewhat short denim skirt and a snug pink top.
"You must be done in your yard, huh? You make me feel all grungy and sweaty now, since you cleaned up."
She laughed "Well sweaty is OK on a macho studly guy, you guys can get away with that, it just makes you sexier. Us ladies have to work harder."

This should have given me a warning where this was headed, but sometimes I'm not the brightest bulb on the chandelier, and I just laughed it off. We took seats opposite each other on the patio, me on a the end of a chaise lounge and her on a chair, which put her higher than me, and I took a long pull on the lemonade.
"Mmmm, that's just what the doctor ordered. Delicious. Thanks Sue, you're a lifesaver."

"I'm glad you like it. You know, it's a good thing the husbands in this neighborhood don't know you're doing this."

Not clear what she was talking about, I said "Doing what?"

"Well, feeding all the ladies fantasies of course. You know, the half-naked sweaty gardener, hubby's away at work, watching you get all dirty and sweaty and you're tight buns flexing when you push the mower up the hill, that kind of stuff."
She had said it lightly, jokingly, but now, finally, all my warning bells were going off. I tried to keep it light in return.
"Well, you know, it seemed a little hot for my coveralls, but next time..."

I saw her looking down at my crotch, and glanced down quickly to make sure I wasn't hanging out or anything. I wasn't, but my sweat-soaked shorts were stuck to me like a second skin. I had made the same mistake as this morning, but I wasn't expecting to be near anyone while I was mowing.
She scooted forward in her chair slightly, parting her legs. I couldn't help but glance quickly, and got a glimpse of a small patch of the same strawberry blonde that she has on her head. She had intentionally set this trap, leaving her panties off."You know Adam, I've thought for a long time that you and I should get to know each other better"
She opened her legs wider, and I struggled not to look. Concentrating on looking at her face, I did notice in my peripheral vision that her nipples were standing out, large and hard. She was apparently very sexually aroused, and it was becoming contagious. I felt myself start to swell.

Sue is fairly attractive, kind of chubby so that she has all these soft rounded curves, but she's had two kids and looks pretty good for all that. Not really my type, I've never been partial to the very fair skinned freckled strawberry blonde look. But now, with her doing her best to show me her pussy, my body was responding on it's own.
You would think the bigger head could overrule the smaller one, but in my case that rarely happened.
"It's OK Adam, you can go ahead and look. You know you want to." With that she spread her legs wide open, pushing her skirt up on her thighs, and ran her fingers down her chest, between her breasts, and slowly down to her pussy. My eyes automatically followed, and she touched herself, bringing her fingers away with a long string of her moisture. "I'm really wet Adam, you should feel."
Her pussy was beautiful, soft and pink, swollen lips wet and puffy and gapping just slightly open at her vagina. I could see her clit sticking out, hard and suckable. Large clitty, very sexy.

I heard myself objecting. "Sue, you know we can't do this, don't be crazy."

"Don't you find me sexy? It looks like you do." She was staring at my crotch again, and I knew I was hard and obvious.

"No Sue, of course I do, but you're married, Rick and the girls, you can't do something like this. And I'm not going to do this to Kristi, she's too..."

I was going to say too important, but with a pang I remembered that was no longer true. I could go ahead and fuck Sue, I was hard as stone, and who cares now, huh? Except there was still her family.
While these thoughts were going through my head she rose and came to sit next to me on the lounge, pushing her skirt up to her waist before sitting down and then tugging her shirt up, exposing her breasts. Only Ron and Kori's house is visible from my patio, and I knew they weren't home.
She leaned against me, her breast warm and soft against my arm. I could feel her hard nipple as she rubbed it on my arm. She put her hand on my thigh and slowly slid it up to my balls, cupping me.

She was breathing heavily. "God Adam, thats a big set. They feel full and swollen. I can help you with that. Touch me, please."
She pulled my hand over to her thigh, far up, and when I didn't immediately move it she pulled it again, up to her sex, wet and hot. I let my fingers spread her lips and felt her, just a little. Slick and soaking heat. A fat, hard clit. She moaned.
She was tugging frantically at the leg opening of my shorts, and soon succeeded in freeing my cock and balls. I was sweaty and sticky, with leaking cum adding to the mix. I was also rock hard and she gasped when she took me in her hand.
"God Adam, you're huge! I can't even reach around you! Oh my god, what a beautiful cock! I want you in me!."
I slid my middle finger deep into her, bending it toward her navel. She cried out and came, gripping my finger, her hand squeezing hard on my cock. She was slick and wet, not nearly as tight as Kristi.
She was stroking my cock, and I was oozing a string of clear fluid. "Oh, your cock is twice as big as Rick's, he'd be so jealous! Look at all that cum, just running out." She gathered some on her fingers, licking it off, but her mentioning Rick, and me thinking about Kristi had cleared my head.
"Sue, stop. I'm not going to fuck you, I won't be responsible for destroying your family. We're not going to do this." I pushed her away, breaking her grip on my cock. I was about to cum, but couldn't let her know that.
She pulled away then, hurt in her blue eyes.

"Adam, I know I'm not as beautiful as Kristi, and I'm fat and have had babies, but couldn't you find me attractive enough, just this once?"
I didn't tell her that Kristi was no longer a factor, but I saw that this was about something more, about her seeking reassurance, or validation of her sexiness, her ability to be sexually attractive to other men. She wanted to be wanted, but this was a terrible time for her to seek what she needed from me. Still, I could see she was hurting, and I'd hurt enough in the last 24 hours.
"Sue, you're joking, right? I mean, look at me." I stood in front of her, my cock jutting long and stiff from my pants. "If I didn't find you attractive would I have a hard on to end all hard ons? Goddamn, if you'd have stroked me about 5 more times I'd have cum all over you. Of course you're beautiful, you're sexy, you're attractive and wet and horny and desirable and whatever else you want to say, but you have Rick, and 2 beautiful little girls, and a happy home, and I can't mess that up for you. I won't. I won't be the mister of a bitch."

She cried then, full of regret at what she'd almost done, and I sat and put my arm around her, reassuring her that it was OK, that we'd stopped before we did anything really terrible. We covered ourselves, her still wet and ready and me still mostly hard and ready, pressing against my damp shorts and oozing cum thru the thin fabric, and when she settled down she told me something very strange.
She told me that Rick had been trying for some time to talk her into fucking other men, that the fantasy really turned him on, and lately the thought had started to excite her too.
He really wanted to watch her do it, the way she told it, but he'd be OK with her just coming home all dishevelled and used and telling him about it, every detail. The idea was foreign to me, but I was intrigued, and I have to admit a little aroused. And flattered that she had chosen me to be the one, her first.
"Adam, he even fantasizes about making love to me after another man has, you know, filled me up. He thinks he wants to do me orally and lick up the other guy's load. Gross, huh?"
Yeah, pretty gross. Why was I rock hard again?

I told Kori the whole tale, about Sue coming on to me, and what she claimed about her husband's fantasies and desires, and about me backing down. Well, I did omit the part about Sue catching me jerking off; some things are just a little too embarassing to share, and getting caught like that, by anybody, is one of those things.

She asked a few questions as I repeated my experience, and when I was through I said "Can you believe that? That she says her husband wants her to fuck other guys? That's amazing!"

Sue thought about it for a moment. "Maybe not. Think about it, it's just what most guys like, except carried to the extreme. You know how you like it when you walk into a room and everyone looks at Kristi on your arm? How all the guys eyes, and even some of the women's, follow her, and how that makes you feel?"

"Sure, like I've got the hottest babe in the room. It's kind of showing off, I guess, but I'm not wanting them to screw her!"

"No, dummy, that's why it's the extreme. Rick thinks his wife is hot, and she's a great lay, she is extra hot when she's having sex, and he wants the other guy to experience that and at the end of the evening he says 'See how hot she is? Now go away, she's mine, and you can't have her, and you were just tonight's stiff dick.' Get it?"

"Not really, no. Maybe he's not real good in the sack, or a tiny cock, or a quick shooter and he wants her to experience good sex with his approval so she doesn't go find it behind his back." I was thinking about Kristi as I said that, but I was always pretty sure she thoroughly enjoyed sex with me. I know I enjoyed her immensely. "Or maybe he just wants to watch her get laid. I guess if you took the jealousy and feeling threatened out of it that could be pretty amazing."
Like most guys, I've always been a little voyeuristic, so that idea was interesting.

Kori looked at me for a second. "It's kind of like karma or something for you though, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just look at the timing. Yesterday you get blown up, your girl fucking around, and you feel threatened or inadequate. You start questioning yourself, your fragile masculine pride takes a beating..."
I interrupted her.
"Oh come on Kori, I wasn't that bad."

"Adam, you're a little better today, sure, but last night you were a train wreck. I mean it! You're hurting today, but last night I was really worried about you. And so today, you have a woman practically throw herself at you and beg you to fuck her! See what I mean? Karma."

She had a point. I had been flattered that Sue had wanted me to be the one, it was an ego boost after yesterday. But that raised another question.

"Why do you suppose she chose me? I don't really know her that well, just to say hi or wave, or talk about the weather."

"Well if Rick is encouraging her to do this, like she says, he probably imagines her picking up guys in bars or on the internet or something, but they've been married, what, 10 - 11 years, maybe 12? She won't be comfortable with that. So he finally convinces her that he's serious, she starts to get a little turned on by the idea."
Kori was right about that. Sue had definitely been turned on and ready.
"And then she starts to think about you, the neighbor, you're less scary, and you're tall, and handsome in a sort of weatherbeaten way..."

"You know Kori, you need to work on your compliments. They kind of suck."

"No, no, I mean you look sort of rugged and outdoorsy, you know, and you have a good job, and you're hung, and you have just that touch of gray here on the sides that make men look so good - which is not fair, by the way - and she thinks if I'm gonna do this, he's gonna be the one."

"So I was just a target of opportunity, because I was there. And anyhow, she had no way of knowing if I was big or small, she's never seen me naked. Well, 'til now."

"Adam, women know these things. And when you work around here in the yard and all, and wear certain things or stand certain ways, it's not that hard to tell. I'll bet she's had several orgasms imagining you while she was screwing her husband, and then she worked up her nerve and made her move!"

"And I blew it for her."

"Well, maybe not. You let her down pretty gently, from what you said."

"I tried. I didn't want to hurt her." Kori was not aware that Sue had actually won the battle, sucking my cock briefly after turning me on so much and watching me cum.

"And you left the door open to screwing her sometime in the future. She'll be fantasizing about you even more thinking about that, and having seen and touched you."

"Maybe." I laughed. "She sure was wet and horny! Her damn clit was as big as the end of my thumb, like that!" I held up my right hand, thumb sticking out an inch. I had liked that, it had looked very suckable.

"Well just bear in mind if you ever do her that she doesn't love you or want to run off with you. She loves Rick and the girls, and you're just a decent guy attached to a big stiff dick that she wants to have some fun with. With her husband's permission. And if a girl can't have fun with a big stiff dick, what's the point?"

She finished speaking just as Ron walked into the room. We hadn't even heard him get home.
"Hmmm, I walk in and find my half-naked wife talking to some half-naked guy about big stiff dicks while she caresses his neck. What am I supposed to think about this?"

Kori kissed him, smiling. "I'm not caressing his neck, I'm shaving his neck. And I'm going to shave his balls next, so you got here just in time."

I feigned horror, quickly crossing my legs. "Woman, you are not getting near my balls with that sharp implement. I sing bass, and I intend to keep it that way."

Ron stripped as we stood there kidding around, pulling on his swim trunks.
"I'm gonna go take a dip, y'all come join me when you're done."

Kori stopped him. "Honey, before you go in the pool, fix us up a pitcher of something."

"Sure. What's everyone want? Daiquaris, margaritas?"
The margaritas won the vote, 3 - 0, and Ron went to mix it up. A swim did sound like fun.

Kori folded up the towel to catch the hair she'd cut off, drying my neck and brushing me off a little with it. "There. You're beautiful again."

"Thanks, what do I owe you?"

"Just give me a kiss and we'll call it even."

'You've got it! Sounds like a win-win for me."
She pressed herself to me, giving me a long deep kiss, with some tongue.

"Wow K! What was that about?"

"Oh, I don't know Adam. You're just... I mean you just are so sweet sometimes, treating Sue so nice, and I always feel so close to you when we talk like this, just the 2 of us. There is one other thing you could do for me though."

I looked at her, waiting.

"You could let me call Kristi and have her join us by the pool. Better yet, you could call her."

I thought about that for a while, long enough that Kori prompted me "Well?"

"Oh, I don't know Kori. That could be a real disaster. You need to back off a little hon', and give us some space." I really did want to see Kristi. Despite my hurt and confusion I missed her terribly. After only one day.

Kori persisted. "Please? She's very lonely you know. You have us, but who does she have?"

I relented. "Oh, OK. If it gets too tough, I'll go home and let her stay. It wasn't fair of me to tell her to stay away from you guys. But you call her, I'm not ready for that."

She headed for the phone, and I wandered out to join Ron. I figured I should get a few margaritas in me to dull the pain before Kristi got there. Fortunately, I'm a very mellow takes on those extremely rare occasions that I overdo it.

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willing bi story


I'm a 46 year old happily married man, at least almost happily married, you see I have a problem. It seems that after my wife turned 40 she lost interest in sex. I think the main reamister for our lack of sex is due to my small cock size. At just 4 inches fully hard I can’t give her the satisfaction she desires.

I love her dearly but after a few years of this I decided to do something about my lack of sex at home. I had always fantasized about giving a blow job and servicing other married guys that weren't getting oral pleasure at home. So, I decided it was time to turn this fantasy into a reality.

I started researching on the net and found several places where I could meet other married men like myself. I decided to take the plunge and ran an ad. It basically said I was a married man looking to service other married men, specifically looking for a dominant guy with a cock bigger than mine.

After a couple of days I got 10 responses. I sifted through all the emails and sent out responses. A few more days went by and I only got a couple of responses back. You'd be surprised how many people respond to ads but really aren't interested at all. After about a month of exchanging emails I was down to one guy, Dave was his name and he seemed to have potential. Below is some of our emails.

John, I saw your ad and am interested. MWM, 48, 7inches. Looking for someone to service me on a regular basis. Not interested in a relationship, just want to find someone to worship my cock and suck me on a regular basis. If you get into cross dressing that would be a plus but not required. Tell me more about yourself. Dave

Dave, I'm a MWM, 46 and just 4 inches. Submissive whose always had a desire to service other men. Sex with the wife has pretty well gone south, so I'm looking to explore my fantasies. Wife doesn't know so would have to be discrete. This is my first attempt at finding someone so I don't have a lot of experience. Hope you don't mind. Also as a matter of fact I do enjoy wearing women underwear.
John.

John, Don't mind at all. Like the idea of instructing you on how to care of my cock. What else have you fantasised about besides sucking cock? Maybe we can meet for take and see if we click. Dave

Dave, I love to fantasise about being cuckolded by a well endowed man. A big fan of interracial porn. Also love the idea if becoming a pussy slave to a large breasted older women.

In this final email I also made arrangements where we could meet. We set up a time, I gave him a description of myself and clothes I'd be wearing, and he did the same.

Saturday rolled around and I was really nervous, but I decided it was now or never. I walked to the pub where we’d arranged to meet. I went into the pub where I had arranged to meet Dave. I was about 10 minutes early, the waiting was driving me crazy and my stomach was churning over and over. All the while my little cock rock hard in anticipation of the meeting that was about to take place.

At the appointed time, I saw a man walk in at the far end of the pub meeting the description of Dave. He walked up beside me and I almost fainted. It was Dave Williams a manager in the place that I worked.

At work Mr Williams always ignored me, in his eyes I was a nobody unworthy of acknowledgment. Now here he was stood next to me. I could hardly look him in the eye, my mind filled with dread at the prospect of sucking his cock.

“Are you here to meet me”, barked Dave in a deep manly voice.

“Yes Sir” I stammered, somewhat ashamed that one of my bosses knew all about my secret fantasises.

“So you’re the little sissy that wants to suck my cock”, he sniggered.

Again I answered “Yes Sir”. My use of the word “Sir” somehow confirming my inferiority to Mr Williams

“Good boy, if I'd known about you sooner I'd have done this ages ago.", he roared.

We spent the next hour takeing by the bar, my face flushed with red virtually the whole time. Dave kept asking me loads of permisteral questions all the while. In particular he kept asking me questions about my wife Melanie. What she was like in bed, did she shave her pussy, etc. Strangely I was enjoying the offense of it all, not to mention the fact that my cock was hard the whole time.

After my third take Dave told me to take up and that we were to go back to his place. He said that his wife and 2 flowers were out for the rest of the day, and that we wouldn’t be disturbed. The journey took about 15 minuets. As we drove Dave told me that his wife didn’t like sucking his cock, and that he was really looking forward to having me suck his cock.

When we arrived at his house, we both went in. We made our way into his living room. Dave sat on the sofa, and gestured for me to sit on the floor by his feet.

“So how long have you been doing this and what exactly are you into?," he said as he made himself comfortable in his easy chair.

Looking up at him I replied, "Well, I haven't really haven't been into anything yet. I haven't sucked anyone off, I’ve never been with a man, but have always had the desire to get my hands on another guys cock and suck it. I can't explain it, but the desire has always been there. I guess it’s because I don’t see my self as a real man because my cock is so tiny. Even when me and my wife are watching a porn, and the girl is sucking he guy, sometimes I imagine it's me giving the blow job", I answered submissively.

"Hmmm, sounds interesting," Dave said. With that he began to undo his trousers freeing his cock from within the confines of his pants. All I could do was look on and gulp as his cock came into view. For most of my adult life I had fantasized about this moment and it was finally coming true. In it's soft flaccid state it was much longer and thicker than mine. Dave told me not to be afraid, and to touch his dick.

I reached up with my right hand and took hold Dave’s cock around the base and started to stroke it. With my left hand I cradled his big balls and started to massage them. His cock started to grow in my hand the more I stroked it. When fully it was fully erect it looked massive, much thicker than mine and about twice the length.

I bet I've jacked off 10,000 times in the last 30 years and never really paid attention to how it felt to hold my dick. But now with Dave’s dick in my hand it felt so good. It’s large size was mesmerizing. I’d didn’t feel like a man at all, in fact I felt more like a 14 year old schoolgirl.

I sat up a little and leaned forward, taking in the manly scent of his crotch. I rubbed the cock head against my lips, then around them. I took a deep breath and licked the tip, it tasted so manly. I opened my mouth and gently sucked on the head of his cock swirling my tongue on the underside.

Dave said, "That was good start, but no sense in rushing things, My wife is going to be gone all day so we'll have plenty of time to talk and play. You mentioned in one your emails that you like to dress in women’s clothes. What do you like to wear?"

I replied, "Well I've never dressed for anybody other than myself. But when my wife Melanie is out and I get in the right mood I have some stockings and suspenders that I like wear. I love the feel of the nylon against my skin and when I jerk off I have a pretty intense orgasm. But, I have to be in the right mood."

Dave said, "I'd really like to see you dressed up. Would mind doing that for me."

"It's kind of embarrassing but I guess so." Dave told me his wife had some kinky underwear in her bottom draw. He lead me upstairs and showed me the draw. “Put on whatever you like”, he grinned, making his way back downstairs leaving me alone with his wife’s underwear at my disposal.

I rummaged through the draw and selected a lacy black suspender belt with matching stockings and knickers. I took off all my clothes and put on the items. My tiny cock was throbbing inside the silky knickers, everything felt really good but I was so nervous.

Slowly I made my way back downstairs and into the living room. Dave was now sat on the sofa again watching a porn film where a black man was being sucked off by a young white girl.

"Well come here and let me look at you”, he barked. I was instructed to twirl around for him. He Laughing out load, "No wonder you like to dress up and want to suck cock. Your dick is about the size of a clit."

I was so embarrassed, I pulled up my panties to hide myself. "How does it feel to dress like a sissy for a real man. Does it turn you on sissy”, Dave said.

My mind was really starting to spin but I managed to get out a, "Yes Sir." I was so turned I though my heart was going to burst out of my chest and my little cock was starting to tent my panties.

As he reached forward and began to rub my suspenders straps leg he said, "Would that be your ultimate fantasy, to turn yourself over to another man to be his sex toy. Is that it?"

"I've thought about it and jerked off to it on more than one occasion," I said. His hand rubbing my leg through the stockings was really turning my on. The front of my panties was starting to get wet from my oozing pre-cum.

"Why don't you get on your knees and stroke me a little while we talk."

I knelt down and took his cock in my hand and started playing with it.

"Have you ever thought about dressing totally as a woman, with make up and stuff?"

"I've thought about it but I know I'm not passable so I just get off on wearing the sexy underwear." I leaned forward and gave his cock a nice wet kiss. His pre-cum was starting to flow too. After a few minutes he grabbed my head and shoved his cock right in my mouth. “Suck me whilst I watch this film”, he ordered.

I would have liked to have watched the film myself for a while, but it was clear all this was about his pleasure and not mine. In fact it was at this point that he ordered me that under no circumstance was I allowed to touch my own cock. To use his words he now “owned my cock”.

I was now sucking for all I was worth, his cock felt enormous inside my mouth. It felt so humiliating worshiping another man’s big dick as he watched a porn film. Dave was calling me a “slut” all the while, asking me what I thought my wife Melanie would make of me if she could see me now. I could of course not answer, I guess it would be rude to talk with his cock in my mouth.

For about 10 minuets or so I slurped away until I felt his cock begin to throb. Finally he exploded inside my mouth sending copious amounts of thick creamy spunk everywhere. I swallowed as much as I could, but some still ended up dribbling down my chin and onto my chest.

"Wow, that wasn't bad," he said, "but you could use a little more practice."

I sucked him twice more that day, and not once was a allowed to touch my own dick.

The second time I sucked him he made sure I swallowed the lot. The final time he went for the opposite, shooting his load all over my face and hair. He told me he was “marking his territory”.

Finally it was time to go, I took of my sissy undies and got dressed. One thing Dave wouldn’t let me do was wash his spunk off my face. It took me almost an hour to walk home, I could still taste his cum all the time. When I eventually got home Melanie was in bed. I sat down stairs in the dark for about an hour, and during that time I shot my load 4 times as I recalled the days events. In the space of just a few hours Mr Williams had turned me into a sissy cum slut.



Several days later in my secret email account I got a message from Dave. It simply read, Need my cock sucked, wife and flowers are going out tonight. I'll give you a call.

I responded back that I wasn't sure I could make it. In days since I’d first sucked Dave’s cock I’d began to regret what I’d done and wasn’t sure if I wanted to meet him again.

Several hours later I got a response back from Dave. When I ask you come over, I expect you to come, see photo attachments.

I opened at the first attachment and it was a picture of me with his big cock in my mouth. The next was a picture of me wearing his wife‘s stockings and suspenders. I could only imagine he must have had a hidden camera taking pictures of me.

I guess I have two choices, either be his permisteral cock sucker or let the whole world know including my wife that I was a closet sissy wimp. The more I thought about it the more I knew I had only one choice, if he called I have to would go.

About 7 o’clock the phone rang and Melanie answered it. She talked for several minutes so I thought was one of her friends, that is until she walked up and handed me the phone. She mouthed the word Dave.

"Hello", I mumred numerously.

"Hi, there sissy boy. I told your lovely wife I’m your boss from work and that I have some papers I want to show you. She sounds really nice, hopefully I’ll get to meet her soon”, Dave said.

I of course new therew as no paper work to see, he just wanted his cock sucked.

"Yes ok, I'll be there in 10 minutes," I said as I hung up.

"I'll be back in a few hours”, I told Mel. Adding that Dave was my new boss and that he was quite demanding. Well in a way I was sort of telling the truth.

Filled with mixed emotions of excitement and dread I drove to Dave’s house. Once there I knocked on the door and Dave answered it. Dave was standing there completely naked, his cock already rock hard.

"Come in slut, get in here and suck my cock.", he yelled.

I followed him into the living room where he plopped himself down in his arm chair and spread his legs. I kneeled down between his legs and took his cock between my lips.

"OOOOhhhh, yeah. Suck my cock slut. Just think, your lovely little wife Melanie is all alone at home while your over here with my cock in your mouth.", he chuckled.

My mouth and tongue worked the head of his cock, and with my left hand I cradled his nut sack and started gently squeezing them.

"Your getting much better. So does your wife ever suck your cock?", he enquired.

"We used to, but not anymore", I replied as I liked down his shaft to his balls and back up the head again. I sucked the head of his cock in my mouth and ran my tongue around the edge, paying particular attention to the underside.

"Well maybe that’s because she needs a real man, not a sissy cock sucker like you."

I stopped sucking and looked up at him, while I stroked his cock. I had an idea where this was going. I’d told Dave all about my cuckold fantasises in our emails. He knew the thought of another man fucking my wife while I watched had been a turn on for years and I was becoming very aroused.

I decided not to answer him and went back to work on his cock. I could tell he was getting close, his pre cum was really flowing now.

"I could fuck your wife. And, if you were real good I might let you suck my cum out of her well fucked pussy. How would you like that?", he said.

“I would like that very much Sir, but sadly my wife isn’t into any of this” I replied.

"OK, but I bet she'd like a real man to fuck her, wouldn‘t she.”, purred Dave, as I sucked on his cock hard.

“Yes Sir”, I mumred submissive.

With that he grabbed my head and pulled it back on his dick. With him holding my head he started fucking my mouth. Slowly at first and then started to build speed. Just before he shot his load down my throat, he stopped pumping and as I held open my mouth he held the tip of on my tongue so he could watch his come shoot into my mouth. I could feel it swell as each shot of his hot cum hit my tongue. I swallowed that thick creamy goo and it tasted wonderful.

When he finished I suck him into my mouth again to completely drain all the cum from his spent cock. When I was sure he was empty and I leaned back and said, "It's getting late Mel will be wondering where I am.

It was 3 days later that I heard from Dave next. He called me to his office at work and told me that his wife June was holding a dinner party on Saturday evening and that he wanted me and Mel to attend. I was really nervous about my wife being in the company of a man who’s cock I had now sucked several times. I tried to make various excuses as to why Mel couldn’t be there. But Dave was having none of it, he made it clear he wanted Mel there. He also told me he wanted her dressed “sluttishly”. My reply was a humble “Yes Sir”. Dave was delighted, and made me suck his cock before I left.

One last thing he did before I left was to give me one of his wife’s suspender- belt’s, complete with stockings. They were white in colour, with tiny red bows on the suspenders. “I want you wearing these under your trousers, he barked assertively”

Saturday arrived and I made sure Mel was dressed rather tartish. It took a little coaxing, but I got her to wear her little black dress, complete with 4 inch high heels. She even wore her stockings and suspenders hidden underneath. Little did she know I was also clad in suspenders, what a pair of little tarts we made.

Entering Dave’s house he introduced myself and Melanie to his wife June. His wife June was an attractive woman, smartly dressed with very large breasts. She was quite tall as well, with long legs. It was all a bit embarrassing as June looked down upon my sluttishly dressed wife and whispered under her breath “Cheap tart”. With that Dave informed me that he had something to show me upstairs whilst the “Girls” got to know each other better.

The something he had to show me was of course his cock. I sucked him off in his bedroom whist my wife and his were down stairs. "Oh yeah, pussyboy, suck that cock. I'm going to shoot my load all over your face," Dave moaned.

With my right hand massaging his nuts and his cock sliding in and out of my mouth it didn't take long before I felt his big hand on the back of my head. He held my head stationary as he started pumping his cock in and out of my mouth. Suddenly I felt his cock grow larger, he stopped moving, whipped out his cock and started squirting his seed all over my face and hair. I continued to milk his cock with my lips until he was soft again. Next he told me not to wipe it off. It was highly embarrassing but it looked like I’d have to spend the rest of the evening with his spunk dried all over my face.

Making my way down stairs I was wondering how I could possibly explain the spunk stains all over my face. As it turned out, there would be no need to explain.

Apparently whist me and Dave had been upstairs June had been showing my wife all the photos that Dave had took of me sucking his cock. As her husbands face was not visible in any of the pictures, she informed me wife that if they were made public all of the shame would be on me.

My wife had been stunned, but was only to aware that we both faced ridicule and offense if they became pubic. June had left her in no doubts if she didn’t do exactly as she said then that is what happen.

Whist I’d been upstairs sucking Dave’s cock. June had made my wife strip down to just her stockings and suspends, plus her high heels. She’d removed her own knickers and was now making my sobbing wife lick her big hairy cunt out.

When I walked through the door I saw everything. My wife tried to brake away from her task and explain but June stopped her. My wife was powerd to continue with her “work” as June explained everything to me. Apparently she and Dave had been in with it all from the start. Because of my actions myself and my wife now found ourselves as sex slaves to

Virginie ou les pièges de l'infidélité


Ce n'était pas tant la dureté du carrelage qui la faisait frémir que de sentir mister sexe occupé par ce gigantesque godemiché que lui avait si gentiment enfournée Vanessa en partant. Elle était dans sa propre cuisine, attachée par le cou au point de ne pas pouvoir rester autrement qu'à quatre pattes. Ils lui avaient quand même placé un coussin sous les genoux pour atténuer la douleur. Et elle attendait le retour mister mari. Que faire d'autre ? Cela n'avait pas été vraiment malin de profiter de mister absence cette nuit pour faire venir Vincent et ses copains. Elle aurait dû se rendre compte qu'il ne l'aimait finalement qu'en tant qu'esclave sexuelle. Une belle femelle aux seins lourds, grande, un "bel objet de plaisir" comme il l'appelait. Oh Sébastien ne devait pas tarder puisque mister avion atterrissait à 7 h. Vincent et ses potes étaient partis à la même heure, l'attachant "en souvenir de cette soirée. Tu ne voudrais pas cacher à ton mari tout ce que tu subis ?", avait conclu Vincent, en partant soudainement et en la laissant là, exsangue de fatigue et de sexe.
Tout lui raconter ? Cela risquait d'être long à lui raconter. Voyons, ils étaient arrivés vers 22 h. Vincent lui avait juste dit qu'il serait là pour profiter de l'absence de mister mari et elle avait été surprise de voir qu'ils étaient quatre, Vincent, deux copains appelés Karim et Stéphane, et Vanessa, une superbe et grande blonde dont la présence avait tout de suite rendu Virginie jalouse : "Tu devais venir seul ?
- Oui mais je fais ce que je veux. Non ?
- Oui, oui.
- On dit oui maître." Il lui avait cruellement pincé les seins pour la rappeler à ses devoirs. Elle était bien l'esclave de Vincent. C'est vrai qu'il la faisait jouir comme permisterne depuis leur première rencontre. C'était chez un copain de mister entreprise où il l'avait honteusement draguée. En 9 ans de mariage elle n'avait jamais trompé mister mari mais là elle s'était sentie fondre devant ses grands yeux marrons. Il l'avait prise dans la salle de bains et elle se demandait encore comment elle avait fait pour ne pas avertir toute l'entreprise tant elle avait eu la sensation d'hurler sa jouissance. Depuis ils se revoyaient à chaque voyage de Sébastien et elle se sentait toujours plus à lui.
« Oui maître. » Il lui palpa sa lourde poitrine, propriétaire : « Vous vous en servirez aussi », indiqua-t-il à ses amis, amusés. « Sers nous à boire. Mais avant enlève ta robe. » Virginie se dévétit, ne gardant qu'un superbe corset noir qui faisait ressortir sa lourde poitrine, ses bas et des chaussures noires aux talons vertiginieux qui soulignaient sa croupe.
« Superbe », se risqua Karim en promenant ses mains sur les fesses d'Virginie et en effleurant mister sexe épilé.
« Oui mais pas touche tant que je ne le dirai pas », rappela Vincent. « Elle va d'abord nous servir à boire. Hein Virginie, tu seras une soubrette docile.
- Oui maître.
Bien, champagne chienne. »

Et Virginie se mit à faire le service tout en regardant plus longuement ses « invité ». Karim n'était pas très grand, la trentaine, sûr de lui et de mister humour. Stéphane était plus imposant, un grand Noir pas très bavard et qui ne semblait n'être là que pour le moment où il la prendrait enfin. Et Vanessa qui la regardait, ironique. Virginie se demandait si c'était la maîtresse officielle de Vincent. Auquel cas où elle aimerait lui abattre la bouteille sur la tête...
Mais Vincent de lui laissa pas le temps : « Vous connaissez la spécialité d'Virginie ?
Non.
Elle va nous le dire. Hein Virginie ? » Elle avait honte, honte d'être là à montrer ses seins en faisant le service. Même si elle avait bu un bon verre de vodka et s'était excitée en les attendant, elle était à la limite de tout laisser tomber. Et Vincent : « Elle fait des pipes au champagne divines. Hein Virginie. Montre leur. Sortez vos bites. »
Il ne fallut bien sûr pas leur demander deux fois. Karim sortit un sexe somme toute de taille classique pendant que Stéphane sortir un monstre aussi long que large. Quant à Vincent, Virginie ne put s'empêcher d'être excitée en regardant mister superbe sexe, une taille parfaite. « Commence par Karim », intima Vincent.
Virginie était ravie maintenant de sucer ces trois mâles tout en buvant du champagne pour mieux les exciter. Elle était agenouillée devant le large canapé sûr lequel Vincent leur avait dit de s'installer. Karim n'était pas si excité mais elle eut vite fait de le dégeler. Mais c'était Stéphane qui l'impressionnait. Déjà érigé mister sexe semblait l'attendre, le gland décalotté, indécent, énorme. Lorsqu'Virginie s'en rapprocha à la demande de Vincent, elle eut d'abord un moment de recul – mister premier black! - puis le huma avant de le prendre en bouche autant qu'elle le pouvait. Stéphane en profitait pour lui malaxer les seins quand elle entendit Vanessa se rapprocher d'elle pour appuyer sur sa tête - « Prends le bien en bouche, chienne » - et pénétrer mister sexe : « Vous verriez comme elle mouille. » Et Virginie se sentait complètement passive avec cette main qui lui faisait descendre et monter sur le sexe de Stéphane.
Au bout d'un temps qui semblait lui échapper, les minutes commencèrent à lui sembler longues tant sa bouche était distendue. Heureusement Vincent dit que c'était mister tour. Vanessa se déplaça respectueusement derrière lu, lui laissant se précipiter sur le sexe de mister amant. Enfin. Elle le prit en bouche, le renifla de haut en bas, s'attardant sur le bas, remontant doucement, se resservant du champagne pour mieux l'emboucher. « Quelle salope hein », s'exclama Vincent. Les autres semblaient pétrifiés devant le spectacle, la façon dont à la fois Vincent affirmait sa propriété et Virginie mister amour infini.
Puis il en eut marre : « Allons dans sa chambre. Oui voilà, mets toi sur le lit en levrette. On va te prendre chacun notre tour. Tu ne verras pas qui. Et tu lécheras Vanessa. » Virginie s'installa dans la grande chambre aux murs blancs. Sur le côté, l'armoire avait des glaces mais ils lui avaient mis un bandeau sur les yeux. Elle était offerte totalement. Bientôt, Vanessa lui prit la tête pour qu'elle la lèche. Son sexe était rasé, délicieux. Elle aimait aussi les femmes mais rien ne valait le sexe qu'elle attendait, frémissante. Les mains qui allaient prendre sa croupe, peut être lui tirer les chVirginieux. « Toi d'abord. » Elle eut à peine le temps d'entendre Vincent fixer l'ordre de passage qu'un sexe s'enfonça en elle. D'un coup. Elle hurla. A la taille c'était Karim. Il savait s'y prendre et la besognait avec talent sans pour autant lui empêcher de lécher une Vanessa qui semblait apprécier : « Oui vas y, lèche salope, salope. » Virginie eut plaisir à attendre Vincent réplique : « Cette chienne croit qu'Virginie est à mister service. Tout à l'heure elle aussi devra y passer. » Et tout de suite : « A toi Stéphane. »
Là on changeait de registre. Virginie se sentit instantanément remplie comme elle ne l'avait jamais été. Une sensation indescriptible mais qui ne lui fit quand même atteindre les étoiles qu'elle réservait à Vincent. « Tu aimes ça; dit le salope/
Oui, j'aime ça.
Dit « j'aime ta bite »
J'aime ta bite.
Bien. »
Et Stéphane de partir dans un délire en la prenant à une vitesse indescriptible qui la fit hurler. Et Stéphane de jouir enfin. Mais elle eut à peine le temps de reprendre ses esprits que Vincent était en elle. Devant ses yeux, Vanessa était partie et le sexe de Karim avait remplacé mister buismister quasi dégarni.

« Jouis salope, je te le permets. » Virginie n'attendait que l'autorisation de Vincent et elle partie dans un grand feulement rauque au moment où Vincent lui infligea quelques délicieuses tapes sur les fesses. Quelques minutes plus tard, elle se rendit compte qu'ils étaient repartis dans le salon la laissant vivre sa jouissance. Quand elle voulut se lVirginier, elle se rendit compte qu'ils lui avaient mis un collier et attachée aux pieds du lit. Les mains dans le dos étaient également attachées. Et Vanessa derrière elle avec un martinet. « Prends ça chienne, mets toi bien en levrette oui, mieux cambrée que ça, oui. » Et les coups pleuvaient, pas trop fort. « Ramène la. » La voix de Vincent retentit. Vanessa la détacha et la ramena à quatre pattes dans le salon. La couloir était long et Virginie eut le temps d'admirer la plastique de Vanessa maintenant qu'ils lui avaient enlevé mister bandeau. Elle était grande, quasi comme elle, de longs chVirginieux mais plutôt plate. Plus jeune aussi. Très belle indiscutablement.
« Regardez ces deux chiennes, souligna Vincent à leur arrivée. On va les accoupler. A quatre pattes toutes les deux oui. Fesse à fesse. » Et Vincent prit un long double plug qu'il introduit dans leurs deux sexes.
« Oui, baisez vous, allez. Et sucez les. » Stéphane et Karim prirent position de chaque côté pendant que les deux femmes se baisaient, chacune semblant vouloir mieux pénétrer l'autre. A ce petit jeu, Virginie sembla l'emporter et ce fut Vanessa qui jouit dans un grand cri.
« Bien, maintenant, embrassez vous. » Elles se retrouvèrent ensemble et commencèrent à s'embrasser, se caresser, oubliant petit à petit les regards allumés des trois hommes. Elles roulèrent sur l'épais tapis. Leurs doigts s'activaient, leurs langues. Le temps semblait arrêté quand Vincent leur intima l'ordre de se mettre à quatre pattes cote à cote. « Voilà, présentez vos culs. Je ne sais pas qui je vais prendre. Dites moi. » Presque instantanément elles s'écrièrent « moi ». « Bon pour choisir je vais prendre celle qui me donnera mister petit trou. » Virginie craignait cette intromission que Vincent lui faisait de plus en plu pratiquer. Mais quand il ajouta : « Avec Stéphane », elle frémit. Se faire prendre par Vincent au prix d'une enculade par le monstrueux sexe de Stéphane? Elle ne réfléchit pas longtemps avant de dire « OK ». Vanessa dit qu'elle préférait regarder. A cet instant, Virginie eut le sentiment que Vincent la regardait avec fierté : « Bien, je vais te préparer », dit-il en sortant un tube de gel. Puis un godemiché qu'il lui enfourna dans le sexe : « Après je te prendrai par là, ce sera ta première double. »
Elle se sentait comme une esclave au moment du sacrifice quand elle sentit les immenses mains de Stéphane lui agripper les fesses. Elle avait la tête par terre, les bras devant comme pour prier. Elle sentait mister sexe qui approchait. Puis il commença à s'introduire. La douleur était terrible. Elle avait envie de dire non mais elle n'osait pas. Puis tout d'un coup le géant entra entièrement, la clouant au sol où elle tomba. Il s'activait en dépit de ses pleurs. Puis s'arrêta. « Retourne la. » Stéphane la transporta sur la canapé où il s'assit, lui écartant les cuisses. Vincent arriva, la verge dressée, et la prit enfin. Elle sentait les deux hommes s'activer en elle. Une sensation unique, enfin la jouissance.
Puis Vincent l'emmena dans la chambre pour lui faire enfin l'amour. De l'autre côté elle entendait Vanessa se faire aussi prendre par les deux hommes mais elle savait qu'elle avait la meilleure part. Elle aimait Vincent et ferait n'importe quoi pour lui.

En la voyant attachée dans la cuisine, un godemiché enfoncé loin dans mister sexe, Léopold avait vraiment halluciné. Qui avait pu lui faire ça? Il l'avait délivrée, consolé mais finalement pas trop cru mister histoire de cambrioleurs qui n'avaient rien volé et l'avaient violé toute la nuit. Et puis les jours étaient passés. Il avait bien eu du mal à admettre qu'elle ne veuille pas porter plainte mais finalement cela l'arrangeait bien de croire sa femme toujours fidèle. Juste dommage qu'elle ne veuille plus de lui après "tout ce qu'elle avait vécu".
De mister coté Vanessa était partagée entre une haine tenace pour Vincent et la manière dont il l'avait traitée et le souvenir lancinant des coups de queue qu'elle avait subi sous mister joug. Permisterne ne l'avait jamais baisée comme ça et elle ne savait pas comment faire comprendre à mister mari qu'elle avait besoin d'autres hommes. Qu'elle ne pouvait se suffire plus longtemps de ses baises rapides. L'occasion se présenta heureusement quelques semaines plus tard lors d'un dîner chez des amis. Quatre couples étaient là, dont les hôtes, Birgit et Wilhem, un couple d'Allemands installé à Paris avec lequel ils avaient sympathisé il y a plus d'une dizaine d'années. Elle n'était pas très grande mais incroyablement sexy avec sa grande bouche, ses cheveux blonds et mister décolleté assumé. Il n'était pas non plus très grand mais également très sexe. Vanessa s'était souvent demandé ce qu'il valait au lit. Quant à Léopold, elle l'avait quasiment violé il y a quelques années et c'était un secret bien gardé entre eux.
"Vous êtes déjà allés en club échangiste?" Birgit aurait voulu laisser un blanc dans la conversation qu'elle n'aurait pas mieux fait. Les trois couples se regardaient en chiens de faïence sans réagir. A la surprise générale ce fut Vanessa, la présumée timide, qui reprit la balle au bon : "Non mais j'adorerais". Stupéfait, Léopold articula un petit "Tu crois" avant que Birgit renchérisse : "Nous on ne connaît pas non plus mais on aimerait en visiter un vendredi soir. Vous venez avec nous?" Les deux autres couples dirent que non en rigolant jaune et Léopold essaya de rigoler une fois dans la voiture : "Elle nous a bien eu. C'est une blague j'en suis sûr." Quel donc ne fut pas sa surprise le vendredi soir de voir sa femme en train de s'apprêter. Elle portait un corset ultra sexy qu'il n'avait encore jamais vu et qu'elle lui demanda de lui lacer : "On ne fera rien ce soir, c'est juste pour voir mais j'ai envie de me sentir belle, tu comprends.
- Et c'est aussi pour ça que tu t'es rasée la chatte?
- Dans les clubs c'est quasiment obligatoire, je ne veux pas dénoter.
- Mais tu comptes être nue.
- Il faudra bien si tu m'honores..." Elle lui caressa le sexe et il se sentit pousser des ailes. La baiser, enfin…
Birgit et Wilhem étaient bien là au café à l'angle du club. Ils trouvèrent celui-ci très joli dans une cave d'un beau quartier parisien. Les femmes étaient sexy, les hommes pas toujours aussi jeunes mais certains "valaient le détour" confièrent les deux femmes à leurs maris en buvant des coupes de champagne. Ils ne purent s'empêcher de dire qu'il y avait aussi plein de belles femmes. "Oui, mais vous ne les touchez pas. Comme nous, on regarde juste."
Peu après ils s'enfoncèrent dans le méandre des coins câlins. Un spectacle qui les excita vite, surtout Léopold qui entreprit de déshabiller Vanessa. Pau après il la prit en levrette devant une grille ouverte. Il s'appliquait à la faire jouir les yeux fermés quand il se rendit compte qu'un homme lui caressait les seins au travers de la grille. Et elle ne disait rien... semblait même apprécier. Une minute plus tard il fut encore plus surpris de voir le même homme, un grand brun très classe d'une cinquantaine d'années, sortir mister sexe et lui enfourner dans la bouche. Et elle le suça avec avidité, totalement soumise. L'excitation de Léopold était telle qu'il ne tarda plus à jouir. Devant lui Vanessa restait, offerte. L'homme fit le tour et s'approcha d'eux, demanda un "pardon, je peux" à Léopold avant de s'enfoncer d'une traite dans Virginie. Et il l'entendit feuler, il le vit prendre ses seins, agripper ses fesses, la fesser gentiment, la baiser comme il ne l'avait jamais fait. "Tu aimes ça salope. - Oui, oui." Il hallucinait, devant Birgit et Wilhem qui étaient venus assister au spectacle mais n'avaient rien fait et qui lui lancèrent un : "On va vous laisser, bonne fin de soirée".
Enfin l'homme jouit et se retourna ravi : "Votre femme est une salope de première. Venez je vous offre à boire." Vanessa avait même du mal à marcher tant elle avait joui mais ce fut elle qui dit à Léopold qu'ils allaient le suivre. A sa table il y avait deux couples, la quarantaine, de très belles femmes dans la trentaine et des hommes plus âges. Tous semblaient bien installés dans la vie et ne se privèrent pas de complimenter Virginie sur sa plastique. "Elle a des seins de rêve", renchérit leur initiateur qui se nommait Pierre. "Et elle suce divinement." Autant Virginie semblait à l'aise en cette compagnie, autant Vincent se demandait ce qu'il faisait là. "Voulez-vous venir chez nous", proposa Pierre après qu'ils aient bu encore deux coupes de champagne. "On finira la nuit agréablement, mes amis mistert restés très sages toute la soirée et mistert sûrement plein d'énergie..."
Une demi-heure plus tard, ils étaient devant la façade bourgeoise d'un immeuble en pierre de taille du XVI° arrondissement. Vincent ne posait plus de questions, lui qui avait toujours été leader dans leur couple se laissait mener par le bout du nez par une Virginie enthousiaste. L'appartement était aussi beau qu'ils l'avaient imaginé. Un salon immense dans lequel les deux couples et Pierre les attendaient. Les deux femmes étaient à genoux devant des fauteuils et suçaient les hommes qui y étaient assis en se touchant le sexe. Pierre, déjà occupé, accueillit Virginie en lui demandant de s'occuper de leur ami, un grand brun à l'allure italienne qui sortit négligemment mister sexe en indiquant à Virginie de se mettre à genoux. Et Virginie ne se fit pas prier pour sucer ce deuxième sexe de la soirée. Il lui maintenait la tête d'une main pour s'enfoncer encore mieux en elle. Vincent regardait, fasciné.
Quelques minutes plus tard, le troisième homme, plus petit et trapu, dit à Vincent de s'asseoir à côté de lui et indiqua gentiment à sa compagne qu'elle devait dorénavant s'occuper de lui. Puis il se dirigea calmement vers Virginie, remonta prestement sa jupe et commença à la caresser. Quelques minutes de ce traitement suffirent à la rendre suffisamment excitée pour qu'il se décide à la pénétrer. Elle se fit la réflexion que, décidément, il n'était pas facile de sucer un sexe pendant qu'un autre vous pénétrait de plus en plus vite. Quant à Vincent, il s'était aussi décidé à pénétrer la belle blonde qui l'avait si bien sucé. Maris et femmes s'éclataient chacun de leur côté. Vincent jouit assez vite et pu voir alors Pierre qui demandait à mister ami de lui laisser prendre Virginie. Son sexe semblait totalement ouvert aux assauts de ces hommes qui se proposaient mutuellement de s'y enfoncer. Bientôt les trois hommes eurent eu ce privilège, la retournant, la baisant mis sans s'intéresser encore à mister anus. Ce tour vient quand Pierre proposa qu'ils la prennent en double.
"Non, articula faiblement Virginie.
- Si dit Pierre, il faut en passer par là. Vous aimerez vous verrez, nous allons bien vous préparer."
Il sortit un petit godemiché qu'il entreprit de lui mettre dans l'anus après l'avoir enduit de lubrifiant et commença un travail que Virginie sembla vite apprécier. C'est à ce moment là que Vincent se rendit compte que les deux femmes s'étaient éclipsées et qu'ils étaient seuls avec les trois hommes. Ceux-ci entreprirent de faire profiter Virginie de ces trois orifices. Elle n'y croyait pas, elle s'envolait littéralement de jouissance. Elle dut même s'endormir car quand elle se réveilla ce n'était plus d'elle dont les trois hommes s'occupaient, mais de Vincent. Ils avaient en effet rapidement lorgné sur lui, mister corps d'éphèbe, sa peau douce, mister sexe de taille moyenne, ses fesses... Pierre avait donc d'abord négligé Virginie et s'était approché de Vincent : "Elle ne suce pas bien.
- Pardon.
- Je dis que quand on la baise elle ne suce pas bien. C'est inacceptable. Vous devez faire quelque chose.
- Quoi.
- Me sucer." Et Pierre lui avait pris la tête pour y enfoncer mister sexe. Vincent ne s'était pas vraiment défendu, fasciné comme sa femme par l'autorité de Pierre. Peu après Pierre l'avait fait se retourner et préparé à mister tour. Son sexe avait pénétré doucement les entrailles de Vincent pour lequel s'était une première fois. La première douleur passé il s'était littéralement empalé sur le sexe de Pierre quand celui-ci l'avait fait venir sur ses genoux. Un deuxième homme abandonna alors Virginie pour se faire sucer, puis un troisième. Voyant que Virginie sortait de sa torpeur, ils demandèrent aux deux de se mettre face à face pour qu'ils les sodomisent ensemble. Stupéfaite, Virginie vit alors mister homme gémir devant mister visage. Elle prit aussi mister pied et tout s'arrêta enfin quand les deux hommes jouirent en eux non sans les avoir copieusement fessé avant.

Le moins que l’on puisse dire c’est que le retour de Virginie et Léopold chez eux fut glacial. Il l’avait vue se donner à trois hommes. Elle l’avait vu se donner à trois hommes. Ils dormirent néanmoins quelques heures puis ne surent trop que se dire. La tension était trop forte entre eux. Ils finirent par tomber dans les bras l’un de l’autre le soir et se firent divinement l’amour. Non, ils ne recommenceraient pas. Promis…
Promis… Seulement, Vincent rappela quelques jours plus tard. Vincent, mister amant qui l’avait abandonnée. « Je te promets, je n’ai pas pu t’appeler. Un voyage d’affaires qui s’éternisait et avec le décalage horaire, tu comprends. » Elle ne le croyait pas mais bon, que faire ? Comment lui résister. D’autant que Léopold était lui-même reparti à l’étranger quelques jours non sans lui avoir fait promettre de bien se tenir. « Ce soir, chez des amis. Fais-toi belle.
- Des amis libertins ?
- Non, non, des amis tout court. J’ai besoin d’une cavalière, il y aura aussi des clients. »
Elle avait bien eu envie de lui dire de se trouver une escort girl si c’était juste pour faire bien à mister bras qu’il avait besoin d’elle mais en fait elle était plutôt flattée de sa proposition. Il la retrouva le lendemain dans un café proche de l’appartement où ils devaient dîner. Elle ne voulait plus prendre le risque de le voir chez elle. Qu’il était beau. Grand, brun, musclé. 1m 90 si male pendant que mister Léopold était si terne, si peu masculin à côté. Sa chatte s’était instantanément humidifiée en le voyant et elle savait qu’elle ferait n’importe quoi pour lui. Elle aurait tant aimé qu’il l’a prenne là, tout de suite, mais il lui dit : « Nous sommes en retard. Tu es très belle… » Elle l’était. Elle avait mis le paquet. Une robe noire très échancrée sur la poitrine qui laissait entre apercevoir mister 95d. Des bas noirs eux aussi. Des talons aiguilles. Noirs. Seule touche de couleur mister collier de perles. Blanches. La classe…
En arrivant chez les amis de Vincent, Virginie dut admettre que ses peurs de se retrouver livrée à des males dominateurs comme la fois précédente n’étaient pas fondés. L’assistance était au contraire très chic, faite de couples bien assortis et l’appartement des beaux quartiers parisiens était un écrin parfait pour ce dîner. « Je vous présente Virginie, une amie. » Très gentleman, Vincent la présentait à différents couples présents puis à des hommes d’origine allemande plus âgés– « mes clients » lui dit-il – mais fort séduisants. Elle engagea rapidement la conversation avec l’un deux : « Vous travaillez avec Vincent ?
- Non pas encore, mais nous sommes très intéressés par ses prestation. »
En fait, Virginie ne sait pas trop bien ce que Vincent faisait. Elle l’avait rencontré dans un cocktail lors du vernissage d’une exposition de peinture et il lui avait juste dit qu’il faisait des « affaires ». « Les quelles ?, demanda donc t-elle.
- Nous penmisters lui acheter des tableaux. » Ah donc, il n’était pas à cette expo par hasard.
Et l’homme, un nommé Bernard, de renchérir : « Il semble qu’il sache bien choisir ses protégés peintres, mais aussi femmes. Vous êtes superbe, Virginie. » Elle en rougit presque. Il faut avouer qu’il était exactement comme elle aimait les hommes. Grand, mince. La cinquantaine évidemment mais quelle prestance. Et il parlait français comme vous et moi, sans une pointe d’accent.
La soirée s’était bien passée et c’était l’heure du départ. Assise entre Bernard et Vincent, Virginie avait été drôle, belle. Elle était contente d’elle et n’avait qu’une hâte que Vincent la prenne. Elle fut donc bien déçue en sortant qu’il lui dise qu’ils allaient encore boire un verre chez Bernard. Et encore plus quand Vincent lui dit de monter dans la voiture de Bernard parce qu’il était en scooter et n’avait qu’un casque. Alors qu’elle s’apprêtait à protester, une caresse sur les fesses lui fit vite renoncer. Elle s’installa donc confortablement à l’arrière de la grosse Mercedes, aux côtés de Bernard. Deux hommes étaient devant, qu’il lui présenta comme mister chauffeur et mister garde du corps. « Désolé, ils parlent très mal français. » Puis il se tut. La grosse berline sortit bientôt de Paris. « J’habite une grande maimister à Sèvres, vous allez voir c’est très beau », lui expliqua encore Bernard.
Mais le portail de la demeure une fois ouvert, la voiture garée devant l’imposante bâtisse, les choses changèrent. « Allez vous préparer Virginie », lui intima-t-il à peine entré. « Vos affaires mistert à côté. » Il ouvrit une porte et la fit entrer. Au milieu de la pièce il n’y avait qu’un corset, rouge. « Mettez le et rejoignez vous. Angela va vous aider à le lacer », dit-il encore en lui désignant une jeune femme brune pulpeuse habillée elle aussi d’un simple corset qui laissait voir ses seins et mister sexe. « Mais non », essaya-t-elle de dire. « Voyons c’est bien ce qui était convenu avec Vincent. Voulez vous lui parler ?
- Bien sûr. » Elle prit donc le téléphone qu’il lui tendait et entendit tout de suite la voix de Vincent : « J’arrive mon amour. Fais ce que Bernard te dit. On va bien s’amuser je te le promets. Je serai là quand tu seras habillée. »
Habillée, déshabillée plutôt se disait elle en s’admirant néanmoins dans la glace. Trente ans, pas un poil de graisse, des seins à se damner, des jambes, juste le visage qu’elle trouvait un peu ingrat mais qui provoquait l’amour fou chez plus d’un homme. Angela lui laça fortement le corset qui faisait encore plus ressortir sa poitrine et l’accompagna au salon. Bernard et Vincent devisaient gaiement et sifflèrent d’admiration en voyant les deux femmes. « Vous êtes superbe ! »

Angela n’avait toujours pas dit un mot et n’avait fait que mettre mister doigt devant la bouche à chaque tentative de dialogue de Virginie. Elle s’asseya instantanément aux pieds de Bernard qui lui caressa doucement la tête avant d’accrocher une laisse au collier qu’elle portant. Il dit alors durement à Virginie : « Aux pieds de Vincent, qu’il vous mette aussi votre collier. Fascinée, elle s’approcha du grand canapé noir où Vincent était assis. Il lui mit alors un collier en métal qu’il ferma avec une petite vis. Puis le relia à une laisse en cuit et lui dit de se mettre à genoux à côté de lui.
La conversation continua entre les deux hommes. Ils buvaient tranquillement sans sembler faire attention à elles. Le temps commençait à sembler long à Virginie. Angela ne bougeait pas. Enfin Bernard leur dit de se mettre à quatre pattes. « Regardez Vincent comme elle mouille ». Bernard avait introduit mister index dans le sexe d’Angela. Face à Virginie elle semblait déjà jouir. Vincent en fit autant avec elle et elle en fut également ravie. « Elle mouille moins, dit Vincent.
- C’est parce qu’elle n’est pas encore dressée », répondit Bernard. « Nous allons nous en occuper ? Vous êtes d’accord Virginie.
Pratiquement nue, à quatre pattes devant ces deux hommes, elle ne savait que répondre.
« Je vous préviens Virginie qu’une acceptation vaut pour toute cette nuit. Nous ferons de vous ce que nous voulons. Vos orifices seront livrés à qui nous le voudront et vos tentatives de rébellion sévèrement châtiées. Alors Virginie ? » Bernard la subjuguait encore plus que Vincent. Elle sentait mister sexe couler littéralement d’excitation. Elle s’entendit dire : « Je ferai ce que vous voudrez.
- A qui parlez-vous ?, demanda Bernard
- A vous.
- On dit maître alors ? Répétez : « Je ferai ce que vous voudrez, maître »
- Je ferai ce que vous voudrez…maître.
- Bien. Mettez vous toutes les deux à quatre pattes sur ce canapé que nous inspections vos orifices. »
Les deux femmes se mirent donc cote à cote sur le canapé en cuir. Les deux hommes entreprirent de pénétrer leurs sexes, leur anus, faisant moult commentaires sur leur texture, leur ouverture. « La prochaine fois vous ferez un lavement Virginie », intima Bernard avant d’appeler : « Venez, elles vous attendent. » Virginie se retourna subrepticement, ce qui lui valut un coup de cravache sur la fesse. « On ne se retourne pas », ordonna Bernard. Elle avait quand même put voir entrer les deux hommes de la voiture, nus, leurs sexes imposants en érection. « Je ne baise une femme que bien préparée », précisa Bernard à un Vincent qui semblait tétanisé. Les deux hommes se présentèrent derrière les deux femmes et les enfilèrent d’un seul coup. L’intromission subite de ce gros sexe était indescriptible et Virginie jouit immédiatement. Angela en fit autant à côté d’elle. C’était divin mais les deux hommes ne tardèrent pas à tartiner leurs petits trous d’une crème lubrifiante et s’y attaquèrent. Virginie aimait beaucoup moins mais se toucha vite le clitoris et là aussi l’impression devint vite délicieuse. Les coups de boutoir continuaient, impérieux, le temps semblait dépassé. Les deux hommes jouirent dans leurs préservatifs. A peine se retirèrent ils que Vincent se précipita sur elle et la baisa avec acharnement, jouissant si vite qu’elle s’en rendit à peine compte. Elle était KO. On la rhabilla et elle entendit seulement Bernard lui dire : « La prochaine fois je vous baiserai. Venez avec votre mari… il paraît qu’il est charmant. »

Tiens, les récits en langue de Shakespeare mistert de retour... la suggestion de les publier sur un post différent n'a pas fait tilt...
Merci pour la belle histoire en langue de Molière... bonne continuation.

Mme Girardin et la jeune fille


Mme Girardin avait maintenant 42 ans, elle avait gardé la blondeur de sa jeunesse ainsi qu'une forme quasi parfaite grâce à sa gym quotidienne. Son mari était plus âgé, il en avait 55. Cela faisait maintenant 6 mois, qu'ils étaient installés à Dakar, au Sénégal. Mme Girardin avait du mal à s'habituer à ce pays. Le bruit, la circulation et les petits commerçants la fatiguaient et la rendait nerveuse. Son mari, Albert, travaillait toute la journée, ne rentrant pas tout les soirs pour cause de voyage.

Ainsi Mme Girardin se sentait seule, la chaleur lui donnait souvent des envies. Elle se refusait à se toucher, mister éducation chrétienne le lui interdisait. Mais la sueur coulant sur sa poitrine, ses seins frottant aux tissus de sa robe de nuit lorsqu'elle était couchée la rendait nerveuse. Son mari ne la touchait plus que rarement.
Elle allait de temps en temps se baigner dans la piscine d'un hôtel. L'eau calmait ses ardeurs et la détendait, elle nageait de longues heures, puis se dorait au soleil. Elle voyait parfois des femmes à la poitrine dénudée, se faire bronzer, elle trouvait cela inconvenant. Elle avait toujours eu un complexe avec sa poitrine qu'elle trouvait trop grosse, jamais elle n'aurait mistergé à la dénuder devant d'autres permisternes que mister mari.
Un matin, après avoir nagé dans la piscine pendant 1 heure, elle s'étendit sur un transat après l'avoir recouvert de sa serviette. Elle se mit à lire un roman à l'eau de rose qu'elle avait trouvé chez le boutiquier du coin. Elle en était arrivée à une scène où l'héroïne embrassait amoureusement mister partenaire, commençant à la dénuder. Cette scène fit frémir Mme Girardin. Cela faisait maintenant un mois que mister mari ne l'avait pas touché et elle ressentait, au creux de mister ventre un manque. Elle sentait la pointe de ses seins se dresser, mister sexe s'humidifier.
« .Marc venait de prendre dans sa bouche le sein de Mathilde, la jeune fille se pâmait. »,. Le soleil lui caressait la peau, lui chauffait l'entrecuisse, la laissant dans une moiteur bienfaisante.

Tout d'un coup, elle reçu un ballon gonflable sur mister ventre, elle s'apprêtait à gronder les enfants qui l'avaient déranger dans sa lecture quant une jeune fille apparut. La première chose que Mme Girardin remarqua se fût ses yeux, d'un bleu intense, étincelant qui la fixait. Elle était blonde, pas très grande et la peau d'une teinte dorée. Avec ses petites rondeurs, mister visage poupon, elle ressemblait à une poupée vivante. Son maillot de bain deux pièces assez restreint cachait mal un corps épanoui, des seins pointus et un derrière rebondie.
« Puis je avoir mon ballon » demanda cette jeune fille à Mme Girardin, la regardant droit dans les yeux. Mme Girardin perdait ses moyens devant cette fille arrogante, au sourire mutin. Elle tendit le ballon d'une main tremblante, sans pouvoir sortir un mot.
Consciente de mister effet, cette jeune fille se présenta :
« Bonjour, moi c'est Amandine, cela fait longtemps que vous venez ici ? »
Mme Girardin se trouva d'abord choquée qu'une permisterne en âge d'être sa fille puisse lui adresser la parole d'une façon si peu courtoise. Mais elle resta subjuguée par l'aplomb et le regard bleu acier de cette fille.
« Je viens ici de temps en temps me rafraîchir un peu, lorsque la piscine de notre villa ne me suffit pas » dit-elle d'un ton hautain.
Amandine s'installa sans gène dans le transat voisin et commença à discuter et à raconter sa vie. Mme Girardin ne pouvait s'empêcher de lorgner sur la poitrine d'adolescente d'Amandine, de descendre sur ses jambes aux cuisses pleines qui la faisaient ressembler par certain côté à une petite fille. A cette vue, Mme Girardin senti la pointe de ses seins durcir sous le fin tissus de mister maillot de bain et mister vagin s'humidifier. Jamais elle n'avait ressenti cela pour une fille, sûrement mister manque insatisfait la rendant plus vulnérable aux pensées « interdites » pensa t-elle. Amandine s'en aperçue et s'amusa de mister effet. Tout en parlant, elle regarda les seins de Mme Girardin en souriant, et écarta légèrement les jambes. Mme Girardin put voir le sexe de la jeune fille se dessiner sous mister maillot. Amandine écarta plus largement ses cuisses. Sa fente se dessina nettement. Mme Girardin transpirait et déglutissait avec peine. Elle se rendait bien compte que la jeune fille avait deviné mister état, mais rien ne pouvait détourner mister regard de ce sexe juvénile. Au prix d'un incroyable effort sur sa volonté propre, Mme Girardin, prétextant un rendez-vous, se prépara à partir pour arrêter la torpeur malsaine dans laquelle elle était tombée.
Elle sursauta et frémit lorsqu'Amandine lui touche le bras :
« Ca me ferait tellement plaisir de voire votre piscine, j'adore me baigner, quand est ce que je pourrais venir vous voir. » dit-elle d'un ton qui ne laissait pas de place à une réponse négative.
Mme Girardin resta coi. Amandine la troublait.
« Vous pouvez venir Dimanche après-midi si vous voulez » s'entendit-elle répondre avec surprise. Mme Girardin ne pouvait s'empêcher de désirer revoir Amandine.

Elle repartit de la piscine, quelques instants plus tard, énervé contre elle-même. Le sexe trempé, et la poitrine gonflée à lui faire mal. Arrivée chez elle, elle se changea, et s'allongea sur le lit pour se calmer. Les images de la jeune fille écartant les jambes restaient gravées. Elle ne pouvait les enlever de sa tête. Machinalement, à travers le tissu de mister corsage, Mme Girardin toucha sa poitrine et effleura un mamelon. Ses seins avaient toujours été très sensibles. Elle pouvait se les caresser pendant des heures, attisant le plaisir à la limite de la jouissance. Mais à ce moment, des images plein la tête, mister excitation était à mister paroxysme, la jouissance n'allait pas tarder à l'envahir. Elle dégrafa mister chemisier puis mister soutien gorge et se frotta les mamelons en soupirant devant mister manque de volonté. Ses doigts caressaient les pointes délicatement pour empêcher le plaisir de venir trop vite. Elle soupesait ses seins lourds comme pour les proposer. Mme Girardin se sentait sale de se donner du plaisir ainsi, comme une femme vicieuse et sans vertu. Mais cette honte ne faisait qu'accroître mister plaisir. Elle donna des petites claques à sa poitrine et ne pu s'empêcher de pincer le bout de ses seins, les triturant avec power comme pour se punir d'avoir ces pensées malsaines. Elle haletait en fermant les yeux. L'image du sexe de la jeune fille apparaissait. La douleur insidieuse sur la pointe de ses seins la fit jouir intensément. Elle se cabra sur le lit.

Quelques jours passèrent, Mme Girardin avait tout fait pour oublier cette 'incident', se disant qu'elle renverrait la jeune fille vertement dimanche sous n'importe qu'elle prétexte si jamais celle-ci venait.
Le dimanche arriva, Mme Girardin se leva tôt, se sentant nerveuse. Elle tourna dans la villa, ne sachant quoi faire, préparant ses phrases pour la venue d'Amandine. A 14h00, la jeune fille n'était toujours pas là. Mme Girardin semblait s'impatienter, s'interdisant pourtant de penser à Amandine. Elle avait une robe blanche unie avec des brettelles, des escarpins qui faisait ressortir sa poitrine et ses fesses. Elle ne portait pas de soutien-gorge comme souvent lorsqu'elle restait chez elle seule. Elle s'allongea dans le fauteuil de la terrasse, regardant l'heure à chaque instant.
A 18h00, le carillon misterna, Mme Girardin se précipita sur le portillon, prête à sortir sa phrase : « vous pouvez repartir chez vous, j'attends des invités »
Mais lorsqu'elle vit Amandine sa voix se coupa. La jeune fille était habillée d'une robe à fleur, ses seins apparaissait par transparence et ballottait doucement : elle ne portait pas de soutien-gorge. La robe lui arrivait bien au dessus du genou et lorsqu'Amandine se tourna, après être entré, pour refermer le portillon, Mme Girardin put remarquer l'absence de marque de culotte. Electrifié par cette indécence, elle laissa Amandine rentrer et s'asseoir sur un fauteuil au bord de la piscine.
« Tu ne m'offre pas à boire ? Je vais prendre un coca avec une paille »
« Mme Girardin couru dans sa villa, pour se calmer. Au bout de quelques minutes, ayant repris ses esprits, elle ramena le coca et la paille. Amandine bu lentement en suçant la paille doucement en regardant Mme Girardin d'un air perverse.
«Je suis tombée tout à l'heure de mon vélo. J'ai une douleur au niveau du mollet, pouvez vous regarder si j'ai un bleu ou quelque chose. »
Mme Girardin resta un instant perplexe, incapable de réagir tant la demande lui semblait irréelle.
Amandine lui sourit, la regardant d'un air suppliant de petite fille :
« S'il vous plait !? »
Mme Girardin ne pu résister à la demande et comme un automate se pencha en tremblant de tout mister corps et attrapa la cheville d'Amandine. Celle-ci écarta les jambes sournoisement et Mme Girardin vit apparaître le sexe couvert de quelques poils blond de la jeune de la jeune fille. De voir cette femme bourgeoise à ses pieds, soumise à ses moindres gestes, Amandine sentait l'excitation la gagner
« Je crois que c'est un peu plus haut, peut être au niveau de la cuisse » et Amandine retroussa légèrement sa robe en écartant plus largement ses suisses. Mme Girardin senti la pointe de ses seins durcir sous l'émotion. Elle toucha la cuisse de la jeune fille et plongea mister regard dans mister intimité. Le vagin d'Amandine était humide. La main de cette femme d'allure si prude allait et venait sur la cuisse de la jeune fille. Son esprit ne fonctionnait plus, aimanté par la vue de ce sexe juvénile. La peau était si douce, si chaude. Machinalement, Mme Girardin caressait maintenant le haut de la cuisse et arrivait à l'aine. Elle transpirait d'excitation. Le temps semblait s'être arrêté. Pas un mister ne sortait de la bouche de ces deux femmes. Le silence, lourd, pesant d'une tension dû à l'attente de l'accomplissement du plaisir. Amandine soupira. Le souffle court, Mme Girardin frôla les bords du sexe, n'osant aller plus loin. Ses doigts tremblaient. Amandine avança mister bassin, en quête de plaisir. Le con d'Amandine entra alors franchement en contact avec les doigts de Mme Girardin. D'abord bloqué par la perversité de la situation, sa main recommença à bouger. Elle remonta de mister doigt la fente qui coulait. Le clitoris était sorti de sa gousse, tendu, entouré de mouille. Elle tourna autour du petit membre. Les cuisses d'Amandine tremblaient de plaisir. Tendrement, elle pinça le clitoris. Mme Girardin ne s'appartenait plus, mister sexe était bouillant, ses seins lui faisaient mal. Amandine soupirait de façon saccadée. Cette vieille bourgeoise sait y faire pensa t-elle. Mme Girardin osa un doigt à l'intérieur du vagin de la jeune fille, celui-ci était trempé et ouvert. Elle commença des aller et venus qui faisaient soupirer et gémir Amandine. Puis de mister autre main, cette femme d'air si respectable, titilla le clitoris de la jeune fille. Amandine jouit d'une façon extraordinaire : jamais ses copines, pourtant si vicieuses parfois, ne l'avaient masturbé de cette façon.

Tout d'un coup, Amandine se leva d'un bond.
« Mais que me fais tu, sale gouine !!! »
Mme Girardin était toute rouge.
« Je..je. »
« Tu sais que ça peut te coûter chère de tripoter une jeune fille sans défense.. »
Amandine regardait la bourgeoise droit dans les yeux :
« Tu as intérêt à filer droit si tu veux que je ne dise rien à ton mari ! »

La jeune fille partit en claquant le portail laissant Mme Girardin sans voie et désemparée.

Les jours suivants, Mme Girardin n’arrêta pas de penser à cette fille. Elle repensait à ce qu’elle avait fait. Comment avait elle pu faire ça ? Elle avait l’impression d’avoir fait un rêve, ce ne pouvait pas être la réalité.
Depuis sa rencontre avec Amandine, elle se sentait différente, elle se sentait constamment excitée. Le regard des hommes dans la rue, les frôlements, ses rêves, toutes ses pensées tournaient autour du sexe. « Je vais devenir folle ».
La propriété des Girardin était importante et comme beaucoup d’expatriés au Sénégal, ils avaient du permisternel. Parmi ce permisternel un jardinier d’une vingtaine d’années, bien bâti. Mme Girardin avait plusieurs fois remarqué mister regard sur elle qui la déshabillait. Elle le voyait souvent tourner pas très loin d’elle, comme par hasard, lorsqu’elle était en train de se dorer au soleil près de la piscine en maillot de bain. Le regard de cet homme la troublait profondément et à chaque fois détournait le regard, gênée.

Huit jours après sa rencontre avec Amandine, alors que Mme Girardin, vêtue de sa robe, était tranquillement en train de somnoler sur un transat, la misternerie du portail d’entrée retentie. Le Jardinier vînt lui annoncer qu’une jeune fille « toubab » du nom d’Amandine était là.
Mme Girardin se mis à trembler. Le souvenir de ce qu’elle, dame respectable, avait fait était constamment présent dans ses pensées. Elle voulait oublier, effacer cet épisode, mais cette annonce de la présence d’Amandine la ramena à la réalité, elle n’osait bouger.
« Fais la entrer » murmura-t-elle.
Derrière ses lunettes de soleil qui cachaient ses yeux troublés, Mme Girardin vît apparaître Amandine. Elle était habillée simplement d’un short et d’un t-shirt, toujours sans soutien-gorge, un air de gamine effrontée. Mme Girardin eut du mal à avaler sa salive.
« Toujours en train de se la couler douce, Anne-Sophie… je peux t’appeler Anne-Sophie ? On est intime maintenant, pas vrai ? »
Anne-Sophie Girardin était devenue toute rouge : « oui,…, je,…je … Je suis désolée pour l’autre fois, je ne sais pas ce qui m’a pris, je voudrais qu’on oublie tout cela … tout ce qui s’est passé… »
« Tu rigoles, tu sais que tu m’as donné beaucoup de plaisirs ? On peut dire que tu sais y faire » dit Amandine en promenant sa langue sur ses lèvres.
Le jardinier, non loin, en train de tailler un arbre, resta abasourdi par cette discussion, il n’en revenait pas. Surtout que Madame avait l’air extrêmement gêné, ce qui montrait que la belle « toubab » ne mentait pas. Madame lui jeta un sourire gêné.
« Jean, peux-tu aller devant la maimister tailler les arbres, j’ai à parler avec cette jeune fille »
Amandine la coupa : « Mais non, il peut rester, ça ne gêne pas, n’est ce pas Anne-Sophie ? ».
« Enfin…non…je ne sais pas… » parvint-elle à répondre.
« Ne vous inquiétez pas, Jean, restez, Anne-Sophie est d’accord. »
Mme Girardin ne pu s’empêcher d’approuver, au moins pour faire comme si elle décidait encore…

« Anne-Sophie, tu devrais te mettre en maillot de bain avec ce soleil… allez va vite, on va faire bronzette toutes les deux ».
Mme Girardin était décontenancée par l’audace de cette jeune fille. Mais une torpeur l’envahissait dès qu’elle regardait ses yeux bleus métal qui la transperçaient. Elle ne put s’empêcher d’obéir comme une marionnette.
Elle monta dans sa chambre pour se changer. Deux types de maillots de bain : une pièce ou deux pièces. Mme Girardin avait toujours trouvé le deux pièces très osé. Mais à cet instant, elle n’était plus la même, elle tremblait. C’était une autre permisterne : une femme vicieuse, exhibitionniste, dépendante du sexe… Et puis, elle voulait faire plaisir à Amandine… Elle descendit vers la piscine, le deux-pièces sur elle, comme dans un rêve.
Amandine était déjà installée dans le transat. Celle-ci la regarda arriver d’un air amusé, la détaillant de haut en bas. Son soutien-gorge la serrait un peu, il était un peu trop petit. Vraiment, elle n’aurait jamais dû mettre ce maillot, quelle honte ! se disait-elle. Mme Girardin s’assit sur le transat voisin.
Amandine fixait les seins d’Anne-Sophie Girardin. Celle-ci avait du mal à respirer, ses pointes de seins durcissaient derrière le fin tissu, comme attirées par le regard bleu perçant, et commençaient à lui faire mal tellement ils étaient gonflés.

Le jardinier jetait des coups d’œil discrets sur les deux femmes : il n’avait jamais vu sa patronne habillée d’une façon aussi impudique. On devinait nettement les pointes de seins que le fin tissu moulait.
« Tu devrais retirer cet affreux soutien-gorge, histoire de faire bronzer ta poitrine si blanche.»
Mme Girardin rougit d’un coup : « Mais je ne pourrais jamais. » murmura-t-elle « le gardien !?... »
Celui-ci continuait à tailler le même arbre, proche de la piscine, depuis qu’Amandine était rentrée.
La jeune fille s’assit et se tourna vers Madame.
Elle recueillit une goutte de sueur au creux de la poitrine serrée dans le soutien-gorge, la porta à sa bouche d’une façon terriblement suggestive. Ses doigts se portèrent sur la pointe des seins qu’ils caressèrent délicatement à travers le tissu.
« Je suis sûre que tu peux être très obéissante ! » susurra-t-elle en la fixant d’un regard sévère tout en continuant ses caresses.
« N’est ce pas ? »
Un léger murmure « oui » lui répondit.
« Attends, je vais t’aider, et puis ça te serre trop ce soutien, ça va te faire des marques ».
Elle dénoua les cordons attachés dans le dos de Mme Girardin et enleva délicatement le soutien-gorge, fit glisser très lentement le tissu sur les tétons durcis de « Madame ».
Elle était devenue comme une poupée, incapable de faire le moindre mouvement pour empêcher ce qui allait se passer. La honte, l’excitation extrême la paralysaient.
« Voilà, Madame est obéissante… mais ces pointes mistert toutes dures, Madame seraient-elle excitée ? ». Elle tremblait, chaque effleurement déclenchait en elle une onde de plaisir. Tout mister corps attendait avec impatience les moindres gestes de la jeune fille.
Amandine toucha doucement les pointes, caressa les pourtours, en souriant.
« Regardes-moi quand je te touche ! Pas la peine de faire la mijaurée… »
Elle tritura doucement les mamelons. Mme Girardin respirait difficilement, perdue dans le regard de la jeune fille.
« Non…je… »
« On dirait que Madame aime ça, serait-elle sensible des seins ».
Amandine pinça plus durement la pointe des seins, sa « poupée » grimaçait mais ne bougeait pas, le regard fixe, comme rêveur.
Mme Girardin était rouge de honte. Ce n’était pas possible, c’était un cauchemar. Elle ne pouvait bouger, comme paralysée par l’offense. Des élancements de plaisirs partaient de sa poitrine et se répercutaient dans tout mister corps. Elle aurait voulu se défendre, l’empêcher de la toucher mais elle ne pouvait pas, et ce plaisir qui grandissait… si imposant, jamais elle n’avait ressenti ça.
Amandine pinçait maintenant extrêmement fort les mamelons tout en les tournant, la douleur serait insupportable si elle n’était pas couverte par un plaisir intense, décuplé par cette même douleur.
« Aïe, vous me faites mal !!!» dit-elle comme pour se déculpabiliser.
« Je ne veux pas t’entendre, tu aimes ça n’est ce pas qu’on fasse mal à ta grosse poitrine ?! »
Amandine giflait maintenant la poitrine de Mme Girardin, laissant des marques rouges. Les tapes se transformaient en claques de plus en plus fortes. Les seins se balançaient sous les coups. Après une cinquantaine de claques, ses mains se firent plus douces. Elle caressa doucement les tétons.
« C’est bien, tu es une grande poupée obéissante. Tu vas jouir, n’est-ce pas ? »
Elle vint derrière le transat de Mme Girardin, colla sa joue contre la sienne tout en lui prenant les seins.
« Làaa, ma grande salope aux gros nichons, laisses toi faire. Dis-moi que tu es ma chose. »
«mmmmh… Je suis votre chose………aaah….. j’en peux plus.»
Amandine alternait les caresses autour des pointes et les pincements douloureux tout en lui chuchotant dans l’oreille combien « Madame » était vicieuse. Elle lui lécha doucement le cou.
« Vas-y, je t’autorise à avoir ton plaisir, vilaine fille ! »
Sa « poupée » n’en pouvait plus, elle serrait ses cuisses de façon spasmodique, elle allait jouir, de façon intense, démesurée par rapport à ce qu’elle avait déjà connu. Amandine serra d’un coup les pointes de seins d’une façon très violente. Madame se crispa, se tendit de tout mister être et mouilla d’un coup toute sa culotte, haletante. Elle ne put réprimer un cri de plaisir.
« Eh bien, Madame se laisse aller, j’ai rarement vu quelqu’un jouir comme ça, rien qu’avec les seins. T’es quand même une sacrée vicieuse ! Et tout ça devant ton jardinier !»
Madame reprit ses esprits, rouge écarlate, n’osant même pas porter le regard dans la direction du jardinier. Elle prit le soutien-gorge et cacha rapidement ses seins.
Amandine se leva.
« Bon, je te laisse te remettre, la bronzette est finie. Puis j’ai pas que ça à faire. Aller, à bientôt ma vicieuse poupée ! ».

Anne-Sophie Girardin ne se faisait maintenant plus d’illusion. Elle était sous l’emprise de la jeune Amandine, esclave du sexe en général et elle ne pouvait s’empêcher d’aimer ça. Son attitude en public, mister apparence était toujours la même : distinguée, froide et hautaine. Mais les étincelles dans ses yeux étaient le témoin de sa transformation. Pour se convaincre elle-même, tout autant que mister entourage, de mister puritanisme sauvegardé, de sa bonne tenue morale, elle continuait ses activités comme avant : elle allait à la messe tout les dimanches, participait une fois par mois aux réunions de l’association des femmes françaises au Sénégal, faisaient de la broderie avec d’autres épouses d’expatriés… Mais Amandine lui avait fait découvrir une face cachée qui la rongeait. La masturbation était devenue un plaisir quotidien inexorable : une drogue pour se calmer. Et ces images dans sa tête de pénis, de lesbiennes en actions,… s’affichaient même pendant la messe du dimanche. Et puis cette attente, réclamée par tout mister corps, d’un signe de la jeune fille la rendait folle de frustration. Amandine lui avait demandé mister numéro de téléphone et à chaque fois qu’il misternait, elle tressaillait et commençait immédiatement à mouiller.

Après quelques jours sans nouvelles, un beau matin, le téléphone misterna.
« Bonjour, ma chère poupée ! »
Anne-Sophie reconnut immédiatement la voix. Tout mister corps tremblait.
« Bonjour Amandine. »
« Tu te portes bien ? »
« Tu me manques, quand est ce que je pourrais te revoir ? »
« Oh du calme ! Me revoir se mérite. As-tu été bien sage ? »
Le jeu commençait. L’attente lui avait semblé tellement longue que ses seins pointèrent immédiatement, sa vulve se mouilla.
« Oui, enfin…je…pense à toi »
« Tu ne t’es pas masturbée au moins ? »
« Je suis désolée, je ne peux pas m’en empêcher… Je suis devenue complètement folle.»
« Et tu dis avoir été sage !!? Si tu continues, tu n’es pas près de me revoir. Je veux que tu m’attendes pour te donner du plaisir, tu m’entends !? »
« Oui Amandine. Mais je n’en peux plus, j’ai tellement envie, tout les jours, toute la journée, je peux pas y arriver. »
« Bon, écoute, vu que tu n’es pas capable de te retenir, je t’autorise à te soulager avec le jardinier. Tu lui dois bien ça, le pauvre, vu comment tu l’as excité la dernière fois ! Mais seulement avec le jardinier, c’est bien clair, hors de questions que tu le fasses toute seule. Et puis tu me raconteras tout en détails. Allez, tchao poupée vicieuse !».
Anne-Sophie fut presque soulagée que la conversation s’arrête là. Elle regarda la télévision pour oublier tout ça. Au bout de quelques heures de feuilletons sans intérêt, elle éteignit, il était 2h00 du matin, et alla se coucher.
Le lendemain matin, un ciel bleu entra par la fenêtre de sa chambre. Il était 10h00, mister sommeil avait été agité. D’un geste presque machinal, elle porta sa main à mister sexe. Sa fente était trempée, signe de la nature de ses rêves, et pire que tout, elle avait envie, une envie irrésistible de se toucher. Mais elle ne pouvait pas, obéissant aveuglément aux ordres d’Amandine, comme un membre de secte à mister gourou.
Tout de suite ses pensées se tournèrent vers le jardinier.
« Non, ce n’était pas possible, elle ne pouvait pas faire ça… Les risques pour sa réputation étaient trop grands… »
Elle commença à s’habiller, elle était devenue cette autre femme, avide de perversité. Elle ne pensait plus. Elle ne mit pas de soutien-gorge sous mister chemisier pourtant un peu transparent, mis sa jupe sans culotte. Elle voulait attirer le jardinier, que ce soit lui qui fasse le premier pas, lui permettant ainsi de se dédouaner de cette envie qui la tenaillait. Les pointes de ses seins durcirent rapidement sous le frôlement du tissu. Elle prit mister matériel de peinture et s’installa dehors, à l’abri du manguier. Le jardinier était à une dizaine de mètres en train d’arroser les fleurs. Il faisait chaud, humide comme il peut le faire au mois de septembre au Sénégal. Une fois mister matériel installé, elle commença à peindre. Mais sa tête n’y était pas. Des gouttes de sueur ruisselaient au creux de seins, mister chemisier collait à sa poitrine, augmentant mister excitation.
« Jean, peux tu venir s’il te plait, avec le pot de fleur qui est à côté de toi, j’aimerais le peindre. » dit-elle d’une voix qui trahissait mister émotion.

Le taxi roulait à vive allure. A l’intérieur, une femme blonde d’une quarantaine d’année au visage soignée suivait la route d’un air détaché. Le chauffeur jetait quelques coup d’œil dans le rétroviseur : une robe très courte ne cachait qu’une petite partie des cuisses blanches, le haut de la robe se terminait pas des bretelles, on distinguait nettement au balancement de la poitrine l’absence de soutien-gorge. Le chauffeur sénégalais se dit qu’elle ressemblait un peu aux filles de mauvaise vie qui traînaient dans les boîtes, cherchant à attirer le chaland. Mais un air incontestablement distingué contrastait complètement avec cette tenue.
Le taxi s’arrêta devant « Le Fourchette », l’un des restaurants les plus en vue de Dakar.

Anne-Sophie Girardin entra dans le restaurant d’un pas tremblant. Comme tous les soirs, dans ce restaurant à la mode, il n’y avait pas une table de libre.
« Bonsoir, Madame Girardin, vous aviez réservé ? »
« Non, non, je… je suis venue rejoindre une amie…la jeune fille là-bas. »
Elle alla prestement rejoindre la jeune Amandine. Celle-ci la regardait avec un grand sourire.
« Je vois que tu m’a obéi : tu as mis les habits que j’avais demandé. Mais, ma chérie, tu sais que ça fait 10 minutes que je t’attends ? »
« Oui… Excuse-moi…les embouteillages…. »
« Ca mériterait une punition, tu crois pas ? »
« Amandine, je suis connue ici, s’il te plait !!! »
« MADAME est connue et qu’est ce que ça peut me foutre. Et d’abord tu m’appelles Mademoiselle ! »
« Bien, mais calme-toi, je t’en prie »
Elles continuèrent à discuter, tout en mangeant, de tout et de rien : de la vie à Dakar, la chaleur, la plage,…. Amandine commanda du vin et remplissait le verre d’Anne-Sophie dès qu’il commençait à être vide.
Au dessert, Anne-Sophie commençait à être un peu étourdie par l’alcool. Tout devenait flou, imparfait.
Amandine lui souffla :
« Allons nous asseoir dans les canapés, on sera mieux pour discuter »
Elles allèrent rejoindre le salon situé près du bar : un coin très intimiste et moderne où les dakarois les plus aisés venaient boire un thé ou un cocktail au mister d’une musique d’ambiance.
Anne-Sophie s’affala sur le canapé.
Amandine s’assit à côté d’elle. Elle lui murmura quelque chose à l’oreille. Mme Girardin rougit soudainement et écarta lentement les jambes d’un air absent, obéissante telle une marionnette.
« Dis-moi, il y a quand même quelque chose qui m’étonne : qu’est ce qui fait que dès le début avec moi, tu as pris tant de plaisir à être soumise ? Tu parais être une femme avec une éducation plutôt stricte ? »
L’alcool aidant, Anne-Sophie Girardin était prête à se livrer corps et âme.
« Ecoute, dès que tu as commencé à me donner des ordres, ça m’a tout de suite rappelé les jeux que j’avais avec ma sœur »
« Oh raconte moi donc tout ça ».

« Tout a commencé un mois de novembre, l’année de mes 18 ans. Je me souviens bien du mois car le temps s’y prêtait tout à fait : une pluie fine et froide qui durait toute la journée.
Nous habitions avec ma mère, moi et ma sœur, une petite ville de la Sarthe, en France. J’étais en première, ma sœur rentrait le week-end de la faculté où elle étudiait. Mon père avait quitté ma mère quelques années plus tôt pour une autre femme.

Ma sœur et moi nous nous ressemblions physiquement : la même blondeur de cheveux, les yeux clairs, la pâleur de la peau. Mais la ressemblance s’arrêtait là. De 5 ans mon ainée, Sandrine était plus mince, les yeux verts acérés contre un bleu candide pour les miens. Mais le plus frappant était sans aucun doute la différence de caractère : Sandrine était dure, rarement souriante, vive et dynamique elle entreprenait pleins de choses ; sévère avec les autres comme avec elle-même, souvent hautaine, elle menait mister petit copain par le bout du nez. Moi j’étais plutôt nonchalante, souriante la plupart du temps. Mon physique traduisait ma nonchalance : les épaules rentrées, des fesses rebondies et des seins opulents dont j’avais parfois honte, rougissante pour un rien : en bref sûrement déjà un peu « poupée ».
Ma sœur m’avait toujours taquinée sur plein de points pendant mon adolescence : ma timidité, ma « fainéantise », et aussi, entre autre mes gros seins.
Mais comment tu fais quand tu fais du sport, ça doit être horriblement gênant, tout le monde doit les voir se balancer… et toi de les sentir bouger quand tu cours ça ne te donne pas honte ? »
Je me contentais de rougir et de fuir mister regard.

Un soir de novembre donc, pluvieux, pendant lequel j’étais restée toute la journée ou presque au lit à paresser, Sandrine frappa à ma porte et entra, comme d’habitude, sans attendre ma réponse.
J’étais déjà en chemise de nuit, juste un slip dessous.
« Déjà prête pour aller te coucher ? Je voulais parler un peu. »
« Pas de problème, ça me changera les idées. » dis-je d’un air mélancolique.
« Qu’est ce qui se passe ? Ca ne va pas ? »
« Ben, en fait c’est les garçons, chaque fois que je commence à avoir une histoire avec un, j’ai l’impression qu’il se croit tout permis et il commence à me peloter. » racontai-je, heureuse de trouver ma sœur à l’écoute de mes problèmes.
« Oh ma pauvre chérie, mais tu sais pourquoi ? »
« Non ?!»
« C’est parce que t’es trop timide, tu te laisses trop facilement faire. Ils pensent que tu n’attends que ça. Et puis, je vais te dire, les gros nichons, ça les excite, les mecs ! »
« Oh arrête avec ça »
« Ben quoi, c’est vrai ce que je dis. D’ailleurs j’ai l’impression qu’ils ont encore poussé ! Tu peux me les montrer, rien que par curiosité, moi je suis plate comme une limande ! »
« T’exagère, je suis pas une bête de cirque et puis… ça me gène. »
« Oh allez rougis pas, je suis ta sœur quand même. Je veux juste voir si ils mistert si gros que ça. 2 minutes et c’est fini. Comment tu fais alors chez le docteur ? »
« Bon d’accord, 2 minutes et après tu me laisses tranquille. »

Je commençais à déboutonner les boutons de devant sur ma chemise de nuit. Mes doigts tremblaient. Je sentais mister regard impatient sur mes mains. J’avais l’impression de détenir des trésors honteux que j’allais dévoiler.
Une fois déboutonné, je n’osais plus rien faire, je tremblais, de honte et je crois, déjà, de plaisir. Plaisir pervers, tabou : celui de m’exhiber sur les ordres de quelqu’un. Ces injonctions me dédouanaient de ce que je faisais ou allais faire, du plaisir que j’en tirai. J’avais déjà entendu que les femmes qui avaient pris du plaisir pendant un viol étaient quand même considérées par la justice comme violées, c'est-à-dire qu’elles n’étaient responsables de rien.

« Ben alors, tu me les montre tes jolies nénés ! … Tu veux que je t’aide, c’est ça ?! »
Ma sœur se mit debout devant moi, et avança ses mains pour écarter les pans du tissu qui couvraient mes seins.
« Voilà, une grande fille sage qui se laisse bien faire. » ricana-t-elle.
Elle écarta doucement le premier pan de la chemise de nuit. Elle semblait savourer cet acte. Elle fit glisser lentement le tissu sur le sein gauche tout en le tendant ce qui accrocha sur le téton avant de le libérer et me procura un élancement de plaisir. Je ne savais même pas que je pouvais être si sensible des seins.
Ma sœur fit de même avec l’autre pan de la robe tout en observant mon visage, me fixant des yeux d’un air dominateur.