Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Young Man Used By A Married Couple free porn video
What I’m about to tell you happened fifteen years ago. It’s only after reading other people’s experiences online that I’m beginning to take ownership of that event.
All through my twenties I was disgusted by the memory of what I allowed that night, but these days the memory burns white hot and I find myself wishing it could happen again. But I’m no longer the lean and muscular young man I was, so I doubt such a thing ever will.
Back then my particular thing was the thought of fucking another man’s wife. It wasn’t that I had trouble attracting women. I didn’t, was not an issue. I was an extremely attractive young guy. Girls my own age were okay, they came and went, but what I really hankered for was to fuck another man’s wife in the sanctuary of her shared bedroom. It would be a violation of sorts. My ideal scenario would be to call around the home of some early thirties Yummy-Mummy after hubby had left for work and fuck her until lunchtime.
She would be just back from running the kids to school in the Chelsea tractor, would be elegant and sophisticated, wearing designer clothes even for the school run. Back then it was my favourite wank fodder to imagine fucking a woman like that in the marital bed, the odour of her unsuspecting husband still ripe on the sheets.
Anyhow, it never happened quite like that, is not what I’m telling about, but it gives you some idea how I got myself involved with the married couple in this story.
I was just twenty-one and studying for my degree in economics at a university in the north of England. To make extra cash, four nights a week I waited tables at one of the big chain pubs situated on the ring road. It was where all the new empty-nesters dined with their recently departed darlings and was the place I met Mandy and Mark.
This is how.
Mid-week. Just another middle-aged married couple eating out with their late-teens daughter. Nothing unusual about that. I saw families such as theirs most nights, yet there was something about these people that piqued my interest. Mother in her late thirties, hubby a little older. They’d looked after themselves, dressed very well indeed. Their daughter a blonde, tall girl. A sturdy girl -- yet with the prettiest face. Genetic gifts from her mother, who could pass as her older sister.
I found my eyes travelling back to their table whenever I had a moment. They were all laughter and warmth, glad to be playing happy family again after weeks apart. Genuinely pleased to be together once more, they chatted incessantly, not like some of the families who dined at the pub, who would sit and eat in strained silence.
Anyhow, while they got on with the main course, the mother caught me looking. Our eyes met and I held her gaze, which seemed to take her by surprise because she glanced from me to her daughter and then back at me. I smiled for her and watched as a sudden understanding erased the momentary expression of confusion I had seen only seconds before. Now a secret amusement sparkled in her eyes and she held by gaze unflinching. There was such intensity in her look that I felt myself blushing.
Totally fazed, I quickly turned away and went about my job.
That was it. I couldn’t keep my eyes from the mother. While I cleared tables or took orders I would check her out. At one point our eyes snagged again, and this time I held her look as long as I could. But what her eyes did to my inners made it imposable to return her stare for more than mere seconds.
After eating they lingered on, chatting over coffee and mints. When readying to leave, the husband came to settle-up while mother and daughter made for the cloaks. When she passed where I stood at the cash desk, the mother gave me one last compelling look. I managed a smile and wished her good night. She turned and smiled and then gave me a brazen wink.
When the pair had gone into the ladies, hubby inserted his card into the terminal and keyed his pin. Transaction complete, he looked me in the eyes and said he’d seen me looking at his wife. I began to blush, was about to stammer out an apology. I didn’t want trouble, he looked fit, like he could handle himself. Suddenly he smiled, said his wife liked me looking at her and that he didn’t mind either. He said it made him feel special to have a wife who could still catch the eye of a young, good looking guy like me. Then he asked if I wanted to look at her some more, maybe come back at their hotel room and give her the attention she deserved.
I asked about his daughter. What would she think. He said they were taking her back to her halls before heading back to their hotel. They would be all on their own later.
He said they were staying at the Rochester, a five star hotel in town. He gave me his phone number and told me to ring if I was up for a nightcap when my shift was done. He said he had a twelve year old single malt back at the room.
I told him I‘d be finished at eleven-thirty. I tried to let my eyes show I understood what he was implying. He said, “Good. We’ll run Hattie back to her halls and look forward to seeing you later.”
His name was Mark, his misses Mandy. I said my name was Martin.
When they’d left, Jeff the barman came over and asked if I knew them. I said they were people from back home, friends of the family.
When I got to their hotel later that night, I called his phone from the lobby to let him know I’d arrived and to ask for their room number. My guts churned when I stood outside their door, nearly chickened out, turned and walked away. But then it opened and Mark was standing there smiling a warm, welcoming smile. He hugged me hard, in a male bonding kind of way, and told me to come in. He said they’d only just got back themselves.
He took my jacket and placed it on a hanger by the door. Mandy was sat on an armless but plush chair, sipping something with ice from a tall glass. I can still see her as clear as anything: her legs crossed, knee over knee, which hitched up the hem of her dress showing lots of outer-thigh. Pivoted at the knee, one leg was swinging lightly up and down with her toes pointed towards me. Her strappy heels lay discarded by the chair leg. At first I thought her legs were bare but when I looked closer -- in fact I could not take my eyes of those long shapely pegs of hers -- I saw she wore nude-look tights. The light of the bedside lamps skimmed and reflected over the fine mesh. I’ve always had it bad for women in fine hosiery.
There and then I got hard for her.
She stood up and walked over to where I was standing at the foot of the bed. She looked me in the eyes and said, “Martin? Isn’t it?” Without waiting for my reply, she continued, “I didn’t think you’d turn up but Mark was certain you would. He’s always right about people. It is so annoying,” she said, casting a conspirator gaze to her husband.
Before I could respond, Mark asked if I would like a drink. I said a scotch with ice would be good.
I stood face to face with Mandy becoming increasingly intoxicated by her presence. The sound of the ice falling into glass came from a place far away. Her eyes had captured me and I saw an awful, wicked daringness alive in her look. I became a mouse between the paws of a she-cat. Even though she looked a very well fed cat, she looked as if she could still muster a kill if the whim took her.
“Don’t be nervous,” She told me, now smiling more warmly, being less the vamp. She came closer and circled my waist with her arms, resting her hands on my back, her palms warm through my white shirt. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, Mark and I will look after you.”
I turned my head to look at Mark, to see him now approaching with my drink. He handed it to me while fixing me with his steel-grey eyes. I took the glass and said thanks. I gulped it down in one go. It burned my throat but softened me inflamed nerves. She rested her head against my chest as I swallowed, “You smell delicious” she murmured. My cologne was no longer fresh, I hadn’t showered since six that evening. It had been a long night.
I reached out to put my glass down on the dresser but could not reach. Mark saw and came and took it from me. I placed my hands around her and let them come to rest in the small back. Feeling the need to man-up, I pulled her to me, urgent and tight. My hard cock pushed obtrusively against the slight swell of her belly through my pants and et both hands slip down to squeeze her buttocks with the full spread of my fingers. They were soft and ample, a complete delight, so heavy and wonderfully curved, a womanly arrangement of so much more flesh than I would find on the college girls I usually picked up. My head went into a tail-spin, my breath and heart began racing each other.
“Do you like me, Martin”, she whispered in my ear.
But no words came.
“Yes, I think you do. I think you like me a lot,” she said, her hand going down between us and squeezing my hard cock through my pants.
She smiled and closed her eyes and pulled me even closer, her large breasts great soft cushions between us. Then she kissed me, her tongue quick between my lips. I thought my legs might fail, that I might pass out. I had never been so excited. The knowledge of her husband standing behind me watching added to the heady sense of something forbidden.
For a while we just kissed and kissed, but then she disentangled herself from my arms and turned around while over her shoulder, saying, “Undo me please, Martin.”
Now it was she whose breath betrayed her arousal, her breasts rising and falling with each inhale she took. I remained behind her and undid the long zip of her dress in one deft swish. and then I helped her ease herself from the garment by coaxing it off her shoulders and squeezing it down over her heavy hips.
I unclipped her bras with less than dextrous skill. I’d removed many during my time at uni’ but none had contained breasts as large and soft as these. When they broke free I immediately palmed both those sumptuous dumplings, lifting them both simultaneously to feel their weight, their substance. I massaged them gently while I kissed her upper back, tasting her wonderfully warm silky skin. She had the finest down to her flesh, a veneer of blonde which reflected the lamplight and made her almost shine. Her nipples between my thumb and two fingers became larger, harder. They were the tits of a real woman, so different than those of the girl’s in their late-teens and early twenties I had previously known.
Soon each nipple became a proud soldier at attention and she moaned gently as I simultaneously kneaded both. I loved the feel of their yielding pliancy beneath my fingers. All the while she pushed her sheer-lycra clad buttocks against my groin and gently rotated her hips. Slowly she reached behind herself searching for my zipper, almost fumbling for a moment but soon back on course, unzipping me. The great liberation.
I was taller then she. My cock pressed against the base of her spine, my balls grating against the fine body sheaf of her hosiery. But all the time I was aware of Mark who circled us like prey, as if waiting his moment to pounce. He would stop still from time to time to watch intently while sipping his single malt. And then I suppose I must have become so engrossed in the deep French kissing that I lost all sense of time and place.
The taste of her mouth, sticky and sweet from her tart red gloss, mixing with the juniper aroma of her just drained cocktail, intoxicated me utterly. I was in bliss to have her wonderful full body in my arms, my unleashed cock pressed flat against her lycra-sheathed belly -- so it was an utter shock to be brought back into the world by Mark’s hands on my back.
He began to massage my shoulders while I continued to kiss his wife. Then his mouth on my neck inching with gentle bites, his chin stubble grating as he travelled and began to nibble my ear. Both his arms encircled me, squeezing between myself and his wife, going down and finding my recently released cock and enfolding it in his palm.
Then they were sharing me completely. She forcefully turned me to face her husband so that he could kiss me fully on the lips. My first taste of his malt infused, sweet-sour breath made me almost gasp. His tongue accepted no barriers. I could muster no sustainable defence and quickly capitulated, But as quickly as he had ransacked my mouth, I was returned to hers to once more enjoy her soft luscious tongue. And while this simple switching of me between their mouths played out, I marvelled at this unforeseen juxtaposition, fully imbibing the contrast between the kiss of a man and that of a woman.
As they passed me to and fro, they began to undress me. Any notion of me being the seducer of a married woman now evaporated and I abandoned myself to utter passivity, understanding that I was now their plaything. I had always been proactive when it came to women, always initiated a relationship. Now for a the first time in my life I was reactive to their lead. I was being ravished as only I had previously imagined a woman could be ravished. Not even at the back of my mind was there any kind of resistance, my usual one-of-the-blokes-me became subsumed in the intense tsunami of their combined passion that their blatant desire for me caused to rise from somewhere unimaginably deep.
They undressed me expertly, teamwork par excellence. I was naked but still standing, their hand and mouths all over me. Then they were both on their knees side by side taking turns to take my cock into their mouths.
“Oh, GOD!” I called out. Quickly they realised I was close to ejaculating. They slowed, put a temporary lid on their ardour. Even in my own heightened state of arousal, I could still sense their overwhelming lust for me. It was off the scale; a thing complete, unstoppable. It turned my head to know I could arouse such passion in two sophisticated, mature individuals such as these people undoubtedly were.
So they coaxed me to the bed and while I made myself comfortable with pillows at my back, they undressed each other. He removing her tights and knickers with practised ease, she then undoing his shirt and unzipping his pants to release his cock, now heavy with his blood and lust. And they held each other close and tight and kissed with passion. I lay on the bed and watched. My cock having been left alone no longer was on the brink of eruption.
They approached from either side of the bed, he kissing me first, then addressing his wife, said. “I told you he would be perfect, biddable, exactly what we like.”
“Yes, a wonderful boy,” she added. Then both their mouths and all their hands were travelling from my head to toe. Lapping me up, they licked and bit at my flesh, stroked and scratched. sucked every inch of my body while all the time one or the other was telling me what a handsome boy I was, how perfect I was, how much I pleased them.
Then she straddled me, wriggling to position herself just-so. His hand around my cock guided me into her. Then her lowering herself onto me, settling with lush closure. Her soft full-hipped rotations finding rhythm, increasing her pace little by little.
He moved himself so his hips were level with my head, his cock right in my face, its full meat wiped around my cheeks, my nose, then feathering my lips with its raw end. And all the time his wife’s sumptuous melon hips rose and fell, twisted and gyrated, grinding my butt deep into the mattress.
He held my head with both his hands, turned it so that the right side of my face was flat against the pillow, my eyes looking directly into the single eye of his lust-bloated cock. With insistent fingers he shaped my lips to make my mouth a cunt, shaping it just so: 0. The full silky-flesh of him on my tongue. A sensation like nothing I could ever have anticipated even in my most bizarre fantasies. And while his cock glided slowly to and fro between my lips, Mandy increased her pace, fucking me like a winning jockey rides his mount on the home straight. But all her grinding and against me was not enough to bring her to completion. And so she took her own fingers to her clit and began rubbing frantically as her hips lurched back and forth, up and down until she came with wild, protracted, convulsive shudders.
Mandy cried out loud from the midst of her orgasm and simultaneously Mark let lose the flood of cum he had been holding back until his wife’s moment of completion. I gagged as it filled and then clotted in my mouth. I did not know if to spit or swallow, but his cock kept pumping and so a decision was forced on me. Having no more room, I gulped it down in greedy quaffs while fighting the urge to wretch. When he had done I wiped my lips, disgusted with myself.
I was disgusted with myself because it was during the midst of my swallowing his cum that I sent my own Jizz pumping into the depths of Mandy’s cunt. I had tried to twist my head away to escape his cock’s load even as my thighs were relentlessly buffeted by Mandy’s all-encompassing hips. Then his cum in my mouth. That moment unfathomably erotic for me: my mouth full of what he gave, its taste, its viscous texture, and it seeping from my lips even as I tried to swallow. And all the time I had endured Mandy riding me as if I were the only means to escape a devil set to take her to hell. My hips punished so hard beneath her final grinding spasms.
Afterwards, we three lay in silence, he to my right, she my left. They saw the self-disgust that undermined my composure. Both began saying things to me, sweet calming things. Gently they stroked me, head and body, with parental concern, kissed me lightly and affectingly on lips and neck.
And so I lay between them for . . . I don’t remember for how long it was. I became calmer, stopped berating myself for having let Mark use me. I had been fine with him watching me make love to his wife, but to endure his tongue and have his cock in my mouth had been a revelation about what I might be. I was ashamed.
They used me once more that night. I was in a half daze, my head swimming with sleep-border reveries, no longer sure if what was a shared was an actual shared reality or my own sick dream.
I remember lying by their side while Martin fucked his wife. She head turned to the side so I could kiss while he pounded her, on and on. The bed became a thing at sea rocked and buffeted under his incessant fucking. Then stillness and him rolling from her.
Him standing and walking around to my side of the bed. I watched his approach and saw his cock still primed and unspent in spite of all his rutting. I Knew then he had saved it for me.
Quickly coaxing me, he physically manoeuvred me between her splayed leg. My head pushed hard into her, I abandoned myself to the sappiness of her cunt, my mouth became steeped in her lush squelch, I savoured the spice of her complete satisfaction on my lips and tongue, her cunt-grease oiled my chin.
Suddenly it was the sensation of his cock. Already sodden by her cunt, I felt it gently sliding between the crack of my butt-cheeks as I licked at Mandy’s cunt. He started low, began at my perineum and slowly burrowed, a bloated worm of flesh filling my cheeks with its heft. Then it sliding back and forth to the base of my spine, over and over, travelling the length of my crack, burrowing until it became fully squashed between my buttock cheeks.
Knowing what it was that slipped and slid in the fissure of my butt was such a mind-fuck -- fast becoming an arse-fuck Then his fingers in my sphincter gently manipulating me, readying me for the obtuse tip of his cock. Then his lunge and my pain.
A man’s cock was deep at my core, the vigour and implacability of him exercised me of my last vestiges of masculinity. I tried to focus on Mandy, needing to blot out what I endured from Mar. I attempted to concentrate on her undulating hips beneath my face, savour the taste of her cunt secretions on my tongue.
I felt his entirety stoked to the utterost, all his contained lust for me abut to rupture. An inudation, a spring-tide rushing into the depth of me, the core of me, while beneath my lips Mandy’s hips bucked and twisted, her fingers clawiing my hair, my scalp.
Both my hands about her her buttocks, my palms filled with her sumptuous flesh, all fingers digging. I grasped her rump and kneaded her flesh as she shuddered in orgasm, opening and spreading her cheeks wide, plying her puckered arse . I thought of Marks cum dribbling down over my balls as he rolled from me with a moan. His sounds as he ejaculated into me sounded like cries of triumph, while her sex noises were an animal in pain, settling to moans of completion. In my utter abandoned desolation it sounded like a cacophony of dead souls in worst flesh-pit of hell.
Was it relief I felt when we they were done? Perhaps it was disappointment.
We lay tangled together, them kissing me, one after the other. Their lust satisfied, by 3:00 am they were asleep.
Full of self-disgust for what I had allowed, I dressed and stole away into the chill early morning city. In the streets I wanted the night to hide me in its shadows, but dawn was breaking and the buildings were stark and merciless. The orange and reds of the sunrise reflected in the windows of tall buildings became an accusation of my depravity.
Soon after that I packed in my job at the pub. I was terrified that they might come back and claim me. But now all these years later I realise I could not have experienced a more perfect evening. And as I said at the start, I would give anything to have it happen again.
Wynona
- 28.02.2020
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