Cuckquean Diaries First Time
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Cuckquean Diaries: Tying Down free porn video
He's met her online, as he often does. She was kinky, really kinky. He took her on as her master, giving her daily tasks: wear this, do that, touch yourself, don't touch yourself. Depending on her performance he would dole out rewards and punishments.
She lived in another part of the country so this was all online to start off with. He would have her on webcam while he watched her perform his tasks or punishments. Sometimes he would let me kneel between his legs and suck him while he told her what he would have her do. One memorable occasion she had been particularly naughty, so he had her put bulldog clips on her nipples. He watched impassively, listening to her screams as he made her bring herself to orgasm like that. I couldn't stand it any longer and ached between my legs for stimulation. I reached down with my hand and she and I came at the same time.
One day after dinner I was cleaning up in the kitchen. He comes in and pins me against the counter. I can feel him through his trousers. We kiss.
"Chelsea is going to be in London in two weeks."
"The pain-slut?"
"Her. I'm going to fuck her in a hotel room and you're going to watch."
He told me what was going to happen and what my role was to be. He watched as my eyes widened, my arousal written as clear on my face as if I'd used a sharpie.
Then he spun me around, bent me over the worktop, lifted my skirt and unloaded into my pussy.
*
He dressed me. What he calls nice-but-naughty: my sluttiest plunge bra with an under-bust corset and lace thong under a conservatively cut black dress. Smokey eyes and dark red lipstick.
He's wearing a white shirt, open at the collar, and a dark suit. Brogued black leather shoes.
We're at her hotel. He sent a courier over earlier today to collect a key-card to allow what comes next. The door light blinks green and we slip into the room. It's quite dark, the light dimmed low. The room is tidy, the four-poster bed made. There's a bottle of champagne resting in cooler in one corner.
And there she is: bound and blindfold, kneeling submissively in the center of the room. He told her he wanted total obedience. That she should please sexually whoever came into the room as eagerly as if it was him, and it would be up to him whether he would come, or give the card to someone else. Or several someones.
She's naked, apart from her thick leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles, and a slim metal collar around her neck. She's shaking. She's nervous. She doesn't know who's come in, or how many people. I imagine myself in her situation, kneeling there blindfold, wondering if even now ten guys are surrounding her, looking at her bare and unmarked skin with hungry and violent eyes...
As I watch she straightens her back, lifts her chin, and parts her lips -- obedient, willing and eager. She's strong. She thinks she can handle what's coming next.
I almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
My husband pours two glasses of champagne and passes one to me. I carefully and quietly sit down to watch. She's listening, trying to work out who she'll serve. How many she will serve. He slowly walks around her, admiring her body, planning what he will do to her -- and in what order.
He starts with her face: a stinging slap that throws her to the ground. She cries out in pain and he grimaces as he has to lean over and haul her back onto her knees by her hair.
Still gripping her hair, he hits her again. She tries to muffle her cry. Hot tears are soaking through her blindfold, darkening the soft fabric. My husband kneels and takes one her her nipples in one hand and pinches.
I wince in sympathy. My finger-tips are white where they grip the arms of the chair. I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand, I ask myself if I should intervene-- what would happen if I did--
I imagine my husband turning on me, making me into another painslut, both of us bound and bare and kneeling as he takes it in turns to paddle our bare asses. I feel a twinge between my legs as I imagine the paddle landing across my ass cheeks, how much it would sting. Maybe we'll try that later...
My husband is twisting her nipple hard and it's intense for her; she bites her lip. He twists and pinches harder and harder, her face scrunched as she tries not to cry out. Finally he forces one out of her-- she throws her head out and bellows her pain to the empty room.
He smiles and lets go. He kisses her nipples and cheeks, as gentle as a caress. He stands and unzips. She perks up as she hears the zipper descend, opening her mouth, eager and hungry for his thick member.
He's the hardest I've ever seen him, his thick shaft glistening with arousal. As the tip brushes her lower lip she eagerly dives down taking him fully into her mouth. She enthusiastically bobs back and forth on his shaft, like her mouth is another cunt and she's fucking his cock with it.
He enjoys her for a while then he takes control, taking her hair in his hand and brutally fucking her mouth. She takes it, her brow furrowed as she keeps her lips tight around his shaft, making her mouth into the best fucking-hole my husband could fuck.
He cums quickly, his hot load spilling uncontrolled from his cock as he pounds her mouth like a jackhammer. She tries to swallow it but he keeps thrusting into her mouth as he's cumming, and it's slopping out of her mouth, running down her chin. He's cumming a lot; hot semen dribbles down her chest between her tits, running in rivulets down across her belly, dripping off her clit onto the floor.
He pulls back and unloads the last spurt of cum across her face and chest, his hot load splattering the blindfold. She sighs in satisfaction: a human fuck-toy well-used.
Now it's my turn. I kneel in front of her and my husband hands me a teaspoon. She shivers as I run the cold metal across her bare skin, collecting my husband's cum. I bring the spoon to her lips and she parts them expectantly. I slip the spoon between them and she smiles at the taste, eagerly licking the bowl clean before relinquishing it for the next spoonful.
I always think you can tell the quality of a man from the smell of his balls and the taste of his cum. I look longingly at the hot load of semen filling the bowl of the teaspoon and contemplate cleaning her off myself, licking the spoon clean before using my tongue to clean every last nook and cranny of her body of my husband's delicious and high-quality load-- but unfortunately I have strict orders, and at the thought of breaking them the image of me as a painslut, bound and paddled springs unbidden to mind.
It takes many trips but eventually she's swallowed most of his load, almost purring in pleasure.
My husband moves the chair in front of her and I sit, lifting the skirts of my dress to my waist and slipping my thong off. She hears the rustle of fabric over my bare skin and smells the arousal slick on my cunt lips. She smiles.
My husband hooks his finger through her collar, drawing her between my legs but she needs little encouragement: her lips part for my clit and she caresses it with her tongue before digging deep inside me, her probing tongue eagerly lapping at my cunt juice.
My husband reclines on the four-poster bed, champagne flute in one hand as he watches us. I lace my fingers through her hair as she licks hungrily. I try to keep my composure but a moan rises unbidden in my throat and I lean back in the chair, grinding myself into her as she devours me, waves of pleasure rippling through my body.
She knows how turned on I am. She's done this before. I briefly wonder about how many girls have felt the caress of her tongue on their labia but then she's drawing my clit into her mouth and sucking hard on it. It's really intense and my hands are gripping the arms of the chair as I cry out, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, my whole body like a coiled spring. Suddenly I am cumming for her: my hips bucking involuntarily, my abs rippling under the thin fabric of my dress as an intense orgasm wracks my body. I collapse, spent and quivering in the chair as she sits back, her smug face smiling, smeared with cunt juice.
I look at her. She's so proud of herself. Poor girl doesn't know this is only the beginning...
As if he can read my mind, my husband is on his feet, tugging at her collar. With a dancer's poise she rises to her feet and shuffles after him to the foot of the bed. He takes her wrists in his hands and she takes the opportunity for a cheeky grind of her ass on his dick, which is once again rock-hard and straining at his trousers. He clips her wrist-cuffs to chained carabiners at the top of the two posts at the foot of the bed. She's standing like the Vitruvian Man with her back to us and her hands spread, completely vulnerable.
He turns to me: "Take your dress off," he commands.
I smile obediently as I undo the zip and slip out of the slinky black dress, leaving only my laciest sluttiest underwear, my under-bust corset, and a pair of fuck-me heels. He takes a moment and looks me up and down, his eyes simmering with barely repressed lust. I strike a sexy pose for him, kicking out my hips and chest. He's thinking about leaving her strung up at the foot of the bed while he takes me right in front of her blindfolded gaze. Eight years of marriage and he still looks at me like that... although to be fair, I have kept my body looking like this...
He dips a hand into a pocket and hands me a pair of small metal items. I hold them up to the light-- two padded nipple clamps, diamond pendants glittering in the low light. Two beautiful pieces of jewellery that wouldn't look out of place dangling from the ears of some starlet on a red carpet.
He meets my eye as I take them from him.
"Tease her." This is his one command. I smile wickedly. I'll show him I can be as sultry a seductress as any of those other girls he fucks.
My body taught like a dancer, I slowly walk over to where he's chained up the painslut. He himself is reclining on the bed, champagne flute in hand, watching the show. I step in close, letting her feel my body -- my bare skin -- brush against hers. I caress her all over-- she's beautiful, her body all graceful curves and smooth skin without crease or wrinkle, like a 1940s automobile.
Her breath catches in her throat as my lips brush her neck, one hand tracing a line down across her belly. She stretches out the chain on her leg shackles, begging me to slip my hand down there, to satisfy her as she satisfied me.
I brush her clit, with the most delicate, feather-light caress and she shudders, the shiver running down her body from neck to heel. With my fingertip I trace slowly between her labia. A growling moan rises in her throat.
"Oh please..." she begs.
I look at his husband and he grins, "Tease her," he mouths.
I smile, pressing my body against hers, letting her feel my curves caressing hers, I slip my hand down between her legs and easily slide two fingers inside her dripping pussy. Her breath catches in her throat. My fingers slick with her juices I start to rub her swollen and eager clit.
"Ohhhh," she shudders, "thank you thank you thank you."
She's really turned on, it doesn't take long of me working her clit with my fingertips before her breath is coming out in ragged gasps. I get her as close as I dare and then stop; she stands there shaking with arousal, almost hanging from the chains on her wrists. I clip the nipple clamps to her nipples and she cries out in shock at the pain. My husband smiles and nods at the sight-- his wife torturing his painslut for his pleasure. He gestures at me with his empty glass and I obediently refill it.
I look back at her, she does look quite a picture: blindfold, almost suspended from the foot of the bed, the diamond pendants glittering in the low light where they grace her hard dark nipples. Her bare pussy glistens with arousal and her clit is swollen and throbbing.
My husband hands me something and unthinking I take it from him. It's a long swishy cane, like a schoolmaster might have used to smack a wayward child in an older and perhaps more civilised time.
I approach the painslut and give her an experimental swat across her ass. The cane lands with a satisfying swish-crack! and the girl cries out in pain.
Fuck, that felt good.
I hit her again, harder this time and she fairly screams. I'm very glad my husband rented the adjoining hotel rooms too, or we might be getting a call from reception about now.
That last strike has left an angry red welt all across her cheeks. I brush the mark with my lips and she sighs at the contrast. The hard and the soft; the pleasure and the pain.
"Tease her with your mouth," orders my husband. I obediently get to my knees between her legs, taking her into my mouth.
"Oh fuck," she exclaims as I start to lick at her.
I've not fucked many girls, but the few I have say I have a rare natural talent for eating pussy -- something about having an unusually agile tongue. I put the switch to one side and slip my fingers easily inside her. I inhale the heady scent of her cunt as I lick her juices off her clit, circling the swollen and sensitive hood with my tongue as I start to finger-fuck her, rubbing her g-spot.
She's going to cum pretty quickly like this. I start to ease off when I hear SWISH-CRACK! and then her bellow of pain. My husband has picked up the switch and laid a line of red welts across her ass. Cheeky fuck laid it right next to my eager fingers too -- I felt the air move!
Our eyes meet and in that way that only very close friends can understand each other without speaking we both know the competition is on: I will try to make her cum and he has to try to stop me. I redouble my efforts, hammering her g-spot with my thrusting fingers, sucking her clit into my mouth and caressing it with my tongue.
He starts to hit her: her ass, the back of her legs, her belly, her chest, crack-crack-crack. Hard and soft, fast and slow; sometimes the gentlest of caresses, sometimes a heavy wrist-flick that CRACKs like a gunshot. Sometimes twice in exactly the same place, other times completely different. His brow furrows in focus as he avoids settling into any rhythm, anything she could anticipate or expect, SWISH-CRACK pause SWISH-CRACK SWISH-CRACK, pause--
I jolt, realising I'd been expecting a CRACK and none came. My wicked husband intentionally introduced a rhythm to tease her, only to break it just as she became used to it. The poor girl must be in psychic agony-- she's sagging in the restraints, just taking it all, giving herself fully to us to use and abuse as we wish, her will entirely subsumed into ours.
I need to make her cum and soon.
I take my cunt-slick fingers out of her and slowly ease them into her asshole. The unexpected sensation makes her gasp. I bury my face in her, her arousal running down my chin, digging deep with my tongue, tasting her as I bury my fingers in her asshole and start to ass-fuck her.
Back to her clit and she's quivering now, so close. My right hand is in her ass, my left hand is in her cunt, and I'm sucking hard on her clit, slapping it roughly with my tongue. I'm hammering her ass and cunt alternately with my fingers and she's cumming and I can feel her ass and cunt clenching in unison as she bellows her orgasm to the empty room. My husband has taken the clamps off her nipples and they will be throbbing for her as they re-fill with blood, the endorphins from the pain mingling with the powerful waves of orgasm wracking her lithe body as she thrashes in the restraints.
In spite of the bruises she'll have tomorrow, I'm a little jealous. Maybe next time.
As her orgasm fades to a background warmth my husband is already unfastening her restraints, carrying her in his arms to the bed and laying her gently down, whispering to her how proud he is of her and how well she did.
He lifts the blindfold from her eyes as we lay down either side of her and she looks at us for the first time and smiles shyly. He kisses her with affection and passion on the lips as his hands softly caress her abused body.
My husband and Chelsea reluctantly part and then we're kissing, and there's passion and intensity and my hands are on her body and hers are on mine and I can taste myself in her mouth and she can taste herself in mine and suddenly -- after all that -- we're just making out in bed like two horny teenagers.
Finally we separate and she smiles at me again, with warmth and affection and her eyes are saying "I'd like to see you again."
And then-- Maybe it's the intimacy we just shared but the strangest thing happens-- as I lock eyes with this girl I just met our thoughts suddenly lock together. As one, we grin at each other and then look over at my husband. We giggle, each knowing what the other has planned.
She clambers over him until he's sandwiched between us, his arms around us both. We lock eyes over his broad chest and giggle again like two schoolgirls sharing a first sip of wine, and then we're leaning together and our lips lock over his chest and we're kissing again, right where he can see us.
It's different this time, we're putting on a show for him-- slow and sensuous and sexy. I reach down to caress him and meet her hand with mine. I unzip him for her and she tugs out his thick member and starts to caress the rock-hard shaft. After that show he's the hardest I've ever seen him. Fortunately there's enough cock for both of us and I start to rub the tip while she massages the base and his ballsack. He moans and starts to fondle our bare bodies.
As if we were one mind in two bodies we part lips, look down and start to unbutton his shirt, making parallel lines of kisses down either side of his neck and down his chest until our lips meet again over his rigid cock. His trousers are unfastened and she tugs them down slightly so she can kiss and lick the base of his shaft and his balls. I take the tip of his shaft into my mouth and caress the head with my tongue. He's moaning and starting to thrust into us. It's time.
She pushes herself up and swings one leg over my husband, straddling him. I mount him behind her, straddling his legs. As she sweeps back her hair, turning the blindfold into a bandana, I reach down and spread her cunt lips, easing my husband's throbbing cock easily into her slick pussy.
Her breath catches in her throat as she eases herself down onto him, I smile, pressing my boobs into her back and caressing her body with my hands.
I lean and whisper into her ear: "He's big isn't he."
"Unh. Yeah," she pants, "certainly the biggest I've had..."
"I want you to take his load. I want him to fill you to the brim. We're both so proud of you; you deserve it."
She nods, "I want that too."
She starts to fuck my husband's dick, riding him, letting his big shaft glide easily in and out of her slick cunt. I sit behind her, one hand playing affectionately with her nipples, the other down between her legs sliding over her slippery clit, my lips on her neck and shoulder kissing and gently biting. If I reach further I can just brush my husband's cock as it slides in and out of her. She moans, panting and leaning back against me.
I don't know how long we went on like that, the three of us, but it felt almost tantric, the rocking, the rhythm, and when they came it was a slow bubbling like an overflowing champagne flute, cum flowing unending from my husband's dick, filling her all up inside. At the feel of his hot load on her cervix she came too, my hand on her belly, and I could feel her abs tense up in the orgasm and then suddenly, surprisingly, I'm convulsing in a sympathetic orgasm. It's the first and only time that's ever happened. I held her tight and she gripped my arms like an iron vise as we came together, my husband's cum filling her abused pussy and spilling out and dribbling down his shaft, and down her legs and puddling beneath his balls.
She kept him inside her for a while, laying forward to put her head on his chest, and I rested mine on her shoulder, our lips just inches apart. Our breath mingling in the post-coital bliss. The only sound in the room the occasional tinkle of the melting ice in the champagne bucket.
"So," says my husband to his painslut, "what did you think of my cuckquean?"
She lived in another part of the country so this was all online to start off with. He would have her on webcam while he watched her perform his tasks or punishments. Sometimes he would let me kneel between his legs and suck him while he told her what he would have her do. One memorable occasion she had been particularly naughty, so he had her put bulldog clips on her nipples. He watched impassively, listening to her screams as he made her bring herself to orgasm like that. I couldn't stand it any longer and ached between my legs for stimulation. I reached down with my hand and she and I came at the same time.
One day after dinner I was cleaning up in the kitchen. He comes in and pins me against the counter. I can feel him through his trousers. We kiss.
"Chelsea is going to be in London in two weeks."
"The pain-slut?"
"Her. I'm going to fuck her in a hotel room and you're going to watch."
He told me what was going to happen and what my role was to be. He watched as my eyes widened, my arousal written as clear on my face as if I'd used a sharpie.
Then he spun me around, bent me over the worktop, lifted my skirt and unloaded into my pussy.
*
He dressed me. What he calls nice-but-naughty: my sluttiest plunge bra with an under-bust corset and lace thong under a conservatively cut black dress. Smokey eyes and dark red lipstick.
He's wearing a white shirt, open at the collar, and a dark suit. Brogued black leather shoes.
We're at her hotel. He sent a courier over earlier today to collect a key-card to allow what comes next. The door light blinks green and we slip into the room. It's quite dark, the light dimmed low. The room is tidy, the four-poster bed made. There's a bottle of champagne resting in cooler in one corner.
And there she is: bound and blindfold, kneeling submissively in the center of the room. He told her he wanted total obedience. That she should please sexually whoever came into the room as eagerly as if it was him, and it would be up to him whether he would come, or give the card to someone else. Or several someones.
She's naked, apart from her thick leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles, and a slim metal collar around her neck. She's shaking. She's nervous. She doesn't know who's come in, or how many people. I imagine myself in her situation, kneeling there blindfold, wondering if even now ten guys are surrounding her, looking at her bare and unmarked skin with hungry and violent eyes...
As I watch she straightens her back, lifts her chin, and parts her lips -- obedient, willing and eager. She's strong. She thinks she can handle what's coming next.
I almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
My husband pours two glasses of champagne and passes one to me. I carefully and quietly sit down to watch. She's listening, trying to work out who she'll serve. How many she will serve. He slowly walks around her, admiring her body, planning what he will do to her -- and in what order.
He starts with her face: a stinging slap that throws her to the ground. She cries out in pain and he grimaces as he has to lean over and haul her back onto her knees by her hair.
Still gripping her hair, he hits her again. She tries to muffle her cry. Hot tears are soaking through her blindfold, darkening the soft fabric. My husband kneels and takes one her her nipples in one hand and pinches.
I wince in sympathy. My finger-tips are white where they grip the arms of the chair. I'm not sure how much more of this I can stand, I ask myself if I should intervene-- what would happen if I did--
I imagine my husband turning on me, making me into another painslut, both of us bound and bare and kneeling as he takes it in turns to paddle our bare asses. I feel a twinge between my legs as I imagine the paddle landing across my ass cheeks, how much it would sting. Maybe we'll try that later...
My husband is twisting her nipple hard and it's intense for her; she bites her lip. He twists and pinches harder and harder, her face scrunched as she tries not to cry out. Finally he forces one out of her-- she throws her head out and bellows her pain to the empty room.
He smiles and lets go. He kisses her nipples and cheeks, as gentle as a caress. He stands and unzips. She perks up as she hears the zipper descend, opening her mouth, eager and hungry for his thick member.
He's the hardest I've ever seen him, his thick shaft glistening with arousal. As the tip brushes her lower lip she eagerly dives down taking him fully into her mouth. She enthusiastically bobs back and forth on his shaft, like her mouth is another cunt and she's fucking his cock with it.
He enjoys her for a while then he takes control, taking her hair in his hand and brutally fucking her mouth. She takes it, her brow furrowed as she keeps her lips tight around his shaft, making her mouth into the best fucking-hole my husband could fuck.
He cums quickly, his hot load spilling uncontrolled from his cock as he pounds her mouth like a jackhammer. She tries to swallow it but he keeps thrusting into her mouth as he's cumming, and it's slopping out of her mouth, running down her chin. He's cumming a lot; hot semen dribbles down her chest between her tits, running in rivulets down across her belly, dripping off her clit onto the floor.
He pulls back and unloads the last spurt of cum across her face and chest, his hot load splattering the blindfold. She sighs in satisfaction: a human fuck-toy well-used.
Now it's my turn. I kneel in front of her and my husband hands me a teaspoon. She shivers as I run the cold metal across her bare skin, collecting my husband's cum. I bring the spoon to her lips and she parts them expectantly. I slip the spoon between them and she smiles at the taste, eagerly licking the bowl clean before relinquishing it for the next spoonful.
I always think you can tell the quality of a man from the smell of his balls and the taste of his cum. I look longingly at the hot load of semen filling the bowl of the teaspoon and contemplate cleaning her off myself, licking the spoon clean before using my tongue to clean every last nook and cranny of her body of my husband's delicious and high-quality load-- but unfortunately I have strict orders, and at the thought of breaking them the image of me as a painslut, bound and paddled springs unbidden to mind.
It takes many trips but eventually she's swallowed most of his load, almost purring in pleasure.
My husband moves the chair in front of her and I sit, lifting the skirts of my dress to my waist and slipping my thong off. She hears the rustle of fabric over my bare skin and smells the arousal slick on my cunt lips. She smiles.
My husband hooks his finger through her collar, drawing her between my legs but she needs little encouragement: her lips part for my clit and she caresses it with her tongue before digging deep inside me, her probing tongue eagerly lapping at my cunt juice.
My husband reclines on the four-poster bed, champagne flute in one hand as he watches us. I lace my fingers through her hair as she licks hungrily. I try to keep my composure but a moan rises unbidden in my throat and I lean back in the chair, grinding myself into her as she devours me, waves of pleasure rippling through my body.
She knows how turned on I am. She's done this before. I briefly wonder about how many girls have felt the caress of her tongue on their labia but then she's drawing my clit into her mouth and sucking hard on it. It's really intense and my hands are gripping the arms of the chair as I cry out, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, my whole body like a coiled spring. Suddenly I am cumming for her: my hips bucking involuntarily, my abs rippling under the thin fabric of my dress as an intense orgasm wracks my body. I collapse, spent and quivering in the chair as she sits back, her smug face smiling, smeared with cunt juice.
I look at her. She's so proud of herself. Poor girl doesn't know this is only the beginning...
As if he can read my mind, my husband is on his feet, tugging at her collar. With a dancer's poise she rises to her feet and shuffles after him to the foot of the bed. He takes her wrists in his hands and she takes the opportunity for a cheeky grind of her ass on his dick, which is once again rock-hard and straining at his trousers. He clips her wrist-cuffs to chained carabiners at the top of the two posts at the foot of the bed. She's standing like the Vitruvian Man with her back to us and her hands spread, completely vulnerable.
He turns to me: "Take your dress off," he commands.
I smile obediently as I undo the zip and slip out of the slinky black dress, leaving only my laciest sluttiest underwear, my under-bust corset, and a pair of fuck-me heels. He takes a moment and looks me up and down, his eyes simmering with barely repressed lust. I strike a sexy pose for him, kicking out my hips and chest. He's thinking about leaving her strung up at the foot of the bed while he takes me right in front of her blindfolded gaze. Eight years of marriage and he still looks at me like that... although to be fair, I have kept my body looking like this...
He dips a hand into a pocket and hands me a pair of small metal items. I hold them up to the light-- two padded nipple clamps, diamond pendants glittering in the low light. Two beautiful pieces of jewellery that wouldn't look out of place dangling from the ears of some starlet on a red carpet.
He meets my eye as I take them from him.
"Tease her." This is his one command. I smile wickedly. I'll show him I can be as sultry a seductress as any of those other girls he fucks.
My body taught like a dancer, I slowly walk over to where he's chained up the painslut. He himself is reclining on the bed, champagne flute in hand, watching the show. I step in close, letting her feel my body -- my bare skin -- brush against hers. I caress her all over-- she's beautiful, her body all graceful curves and smooth skin without crease or wrinkle, like a 1940s automobile.
Her breath catches in her throat as my lips brush her neck, one hand tracing a line down across her belly. She stretches out the chain on her leg shackles, begging me to slip my hand down there, to satisfy her as she satisfied me.
I brush her clit, with the most delicate, feather-light caress and she shudders, the shiver running down her body from neck to heel. With my fingertip I trace slowly between her labia. A growling moan rises in her throat.
"Oh please..." she begs.
I look at his husband and he grins, "Tease her," he mouths.
I smile, pressing my body against hers, letting her feel my curves caressing hers, I slip my hand down between her legs and easily slide two fingers inside her dripping pussy. Her breath catches in her throat. My fingers slick with her juices I start to rub her swollen and eager clit.
"Ohhhh," she shudders, "thank you thank you thank you."
She's really turned on, it doesn't take long of me working her clit with my fingertips before her breath is coming out in ragged gasps. I get her as close as I dare and then stop; she stands there shaking with arousal, almost hanging from the chains on her wrists. I clip the nipple clamps to her nipples and she cries out in shock at the pain. My husband smiles and nods at the sight-- his wife torturing his painslut for his pleasure. He gestures at me with his empty glass and I obediently refill it.
I look back at her, she does look quite a picture: blindfold, almost suspended from the foot of the bed, the diamond pendants glittering in the low light where they grace her hard dark nipples. Her bare pussy glistens with arousal and her clit is swollen and throbbing.
My husband hands me something and unthinking I take it from him. It's a long swishy cane, like a schoolmaster might have used to smack a wayward child in an older and perhaps more civilised time.
I approach the painslut and give her an experimental swat across her ass. The cane lands with a satisfying swish-crack! and the girl cries out in pain.
Fuck, that felt good.
I hit her again, harder this time and she fairly screams. I'm very glad my husband rented the adjoining hotel rooms too, or we might be getting a call from reception about now.
That last strike has left an angry red welt all across her cheeks. I brush the mark with my lips and she sighs at the contrast. The hard and the soft; the pleasure and the pain.
"Tease her with your mouth," orders my husband. I obediently get to my knees between her legs, taking her into my mouth.
"Oh fuck," she exclaims as I start to lick at her.
I've not fucked many girls, but the few I have say I have a rare natural talent for eating pussy -- something about having an unusually agile tongue. I put the switch to one side and slip my fingers easily inside her. I inhale the heady scent of her cunt as I lick her juices off her clit, circling the swollen and sensitive hood with my tongue as I start to finger-fuck her, rubbing her g-spot.
She's going to cum pretty quickly like this. I start to ease off when I hear SWISH-CRACK! and then her bellow of pain. My husband has picked up the switch and laid a line of red welts across her ass. Cheeky fuck laid it right next to my eager fingers too -- I felt the air move!
Our eyes meet and in that way that only very close friends can understand each other without speaking we both know the competition is on: I will try to make her cum and he has to try to stop me. I redouble my efforts, hammering her g-spot with my thrusting fingers, sucking her clit into my mouth and caressing it with my tongue.
He starts to hit her: her ass, the back of her legs, her belly, her chest, crack-crack-crack. Hard and soft, fast and slow; sometimes the gentlest of caresses, sometimes a heavy wrist-flick that CRACKs like a gunshot. Sometimes twice in exactly the same place, other times completely different. His brow furrows in focus as he avoids settling into any rhythm, anything she could anticipate or expect, SWISH-CRACK pause SWISH-CRACK SWISH-CRACK, pause--
I jolt, realising I'd been expecting a CRACK and none came. My wicked husband intentionally introduced a rhythm to tease her, only to break it just as she became used to it. The poor girl must be in psychic agony-- she's sagging in the restraints, just taking it all, giving herself fully to us to use and abuse as we wish, her will entirely subsumed into ours.
I need to make her cum and soon.
I take my cunt-slick fingers out of her and slowly ease them into her asshole. The unexpected sensation makes her gasp. I bury my face in her, her arousal running down my chin, digging deep with my tongue, tasting her as I bury my fingers in her asshole and start to ass-fuck her.
Back to her clit and she's quivering now, so close. My right hand is in her ass, my left hand is in her cunt, and I'm sucking hard on her clit, slapping it roughly with my tongue. I'm hammering her ass and cunt alternately with my fingers and she's cumming and I can feel her ass and cunt clenching in unison as she bellows her orgasm to the empty room. My husband has taken the clamps off her nipples and they will be throbbing for her as they re-fill with blood, the endorphins from the pain mingling with the powerful waves of orgasm wracking her lithe body as she thrashes in the restraints.
In spite of the bruises she'll have tomorrow, I'm a little jealous. Maybe next time.
As her orgasm fades to a background warmth my husband is already unfastening her restraints, carrying her in his arms to the bed and laying her gently down, whispering to her how proud he is of her and how well she did.
He lifts the blindfold from her eyes as we lay down either side of her and she looks at us for the first time and smiles shyly. He kisses her with affection and passion on the lips as his hands softly caress her abused body.
My husband and Chelsea reluctantly part and then we're kissing, and there's passion and intensity and my hands are on her body and hers are on mine and I can taste myself in her mouth and she can taste herself in mine and suddenly -- after all that -- we're just making out in bed like two horny teenagers.
Finally we separate and she smiles at me again, with warmth and affection and her eyes are saying "I'd like to see you again."
And then-- Maybe it's the intimacy we just shared but the strangest thing happens-- as I lock eyes with this girl I just met our thoughts suddenly lock together. As one, we grin at each other and then look over at my husband. We giggle, each knowing what the other has planned.
She clambers over him until he's sandwiched between us, his arms around us both. We lock eyes over his broad chest and giggle again like two schoolgirls sharing a first sip of wine, and then we're leaning together and our lips lock over his chest and we're kissing again, right where he can see us.
It's different this time, we're putting on a show for him-- slow and sensuous and sexy. I reach down to caress him and meet her hand with mine. I unzip him for her and she tugs out his thick member and starts to caress the rock-hard shaft. After that show he's the hardest I've ever seen him. Fortunately there's enough cock for both of us and I start to rub the tip while she massages the base and his ballsack. He moans and starts to fondle our bare bodies.
As if we were one mind in two bodies we part lips, look down and start to unbutton his shirt, making parallel lines of kisses down either side of his neck and down his chest until our lips meet again over his rigid cock. His trousers are unfastened and she tugs them down slightly so she can kiss and lick the base of his shaft and his balls. I take the tip of his shaft into my mouth and caress the head with my tongue. He's moaning and starting to thrust into us. It's time.
She pushes herself up and swings one leg over my husband, straddling him. I mount him behind her, straddling his legs. As she sweeps back her hair, turning the blindfold into a bandana, I reach down and spread her cunt lips, easing my husband's throbbing cock easily into her slick pussy.
Her breath catches in her throat as she eases herself down onto him, I smile, pressing my boobs into her back and caressing her body with my hands.
I lean and whisper into her ear: "He's big isn't he."
"Unh. Yeah," she pants, "certainly the biggest I've had..."
"I want you to take his load. I want him to fill you to the brim. We're both so proud of you; you deserve it."
She nods, "I want that too."
She starts to fuck my husband's dick, riding him, letting his big shaft glide easily in and out of her slick cunt. I sit behind her, one hand playing affectionately with her nipples, the other down between her legs sliding over her slippery clit, my lips on her neck and shoulder kissing and gently biting. If I reach further I can just brush my husband's cock as it slides in and out of her. She moans, panting and leaning back against me.
I don't know how long we went on like that, the three of us, but it felt almost tantric, the rocking, the rhythm, and when they came it was a slow bubbling like an overflowing champagne flute, cum flowing unending from my husband's dick, filling her all up inside. At the feel of his hot load on her cervix she came too, my hand on her belly, and I could feel her abs tense up in the orgasm and then suddenly, surprisingly, I'm convulsing in a sympathetic orgasm. It's the first and only time that's ever happened. I held her tight and she gripped my arms like an iron vise as we came together, my husband's cum filling her abused pussy and spilling out and dribbling down his shaft, and down her legs and puddling beneath his balls.
She kept him inside her for a while, laying forward to put her head on his chest, and I rested mine on her shoulder, our lips just inches apart. Our breath mingling in the post-coital bliss. The only sound in the room the occasional tinkle of the melting ice in the champagne bucket.
"So," says my husband to his painslut, "what did you think of my cuckquean?"
Trish
- 17.04.2020
- 22
- 0
- Category:
- BDSM
