Cuckquean Diaries: Scrubbing Up free porn video

"I think this skirt is too short. No-one would wear this as their uniform."

My husband steps up behind me, his strong hands on my hips. He looks into the mirror over my shoulder and I feel the gaze of his strong dark eyes on my body, drinking in every inch of me. My cheeks redden and I feel a tingle between my legs.

His voice is like the tolling of an ancient brass bell: "It's perfect."

It was his idea, at least initially, but I got to pick the apartment: a penthouse in a fin-de-seicle building right in the heart of the old town. It's dusk and the sky blazes red and pink pastel shades over the night-lit cityscape out the windows.

The buzzer goes and he goes to get it. I look at myself in the mirror and try to get into character-- can of furniture polish in one hand, cloth in the other. I hear them coming: A pair of women's heels tak-tak-tak on the hard wooden floors. I bend my head and busy myself polishing the coffee table. As I bend I can't help but feel the skirt ride up my hips. The cool air of the apartment caresses my bare lips.

They're in the room -- I can smell her perfume. I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye and I feel a twinge between my legs as I take her in-- her petite body poised with a dancer's grace on eye-wateringly tall stilettos. Only the static cling of the sheer black fabric of her dress protects her modesty against the plunging neckline.

She's even sexier than her Tinder picture.

He let me help pick her. We cuddled in bed as we swiped left and right through hundreds of girls, with him giving the rejects a catty critique before a flamboyant leftward swipe. Then the matches started coming back. I could feel myself growing more and more aroused as I watched his fingers dart over the small phone keyboard, deftly navigating the flirty banter towards a date...

I stand and meet her eyes. My husband has one hand laid possessively on her hip, the other gestures towards me casually, as if I were in truth nothing more to him than his hired help. His back is ramrod straight and she's leaning in, one long-fingered hand over full lips as he says something quietly in her ear.

Her dark and heavy-lidded eyes smoulder with a sultry sensuality and she flashes me a smirk. Suddenly, I see myself in her mind's eye as she imagines me naked and humiliated, bent over the coffee table as she paddles my bare ass. I feel myself becoming aroused. My nipples harden under the tight cotton of my blouse. I look down at the floor.

I start to clean the windows, watching them in the reflection in the glass. She's sitting now, and he's got the bottle of wine which he opened earlier, pouring it elegantly into a crystal glass. The Margaux. I can almost taste it from here. He puts on some music, slow and bassy.

He's sitting next to her and they're talking quietly to each other, noses almost touching. His hand is on her thigh and as I watch, it slowly slides up under her dress. She feels his caress and bites her lip. I can see her own hand, her long fingers and beautifully painted nails caressing his arousal through the thin fabric of his trousers.

I desperately want to keep watching but my character -- the cleaner -- would be growing uncomfortable and would probably leave. I take my cloth and spray and, with eyes chastely downcast, start towards the hallway and the cleaning cupboard. As I pass them on the sofa I hear her let out a little gasp as my husband slips his long fingers inside her no-doubt dripping cleft.

I am almost to the door when he calls out to me. Not my name, just 'hey', like he owns me. Like I want him to own me. I turn. She's leaning into him. His hand is on her, his fingers inside her. The skirts of her dress have ridden up and I can see her lacy black thong. My husband has slipped it to one side to expose her clit and bare lips. His thumb caressing her slowly, in little circles, as he talks to me.

"Before you go, please pour us some more wine."

I look him in the eye and he grins wickedly at me, relishing my discomfort at the difficult situation he's put my character in. I fix my face with what I hope is an appropriate mixture of discomfort and professionalism that my character would feel at such a request. I walk over to them, keeping eye contact with him the whole time. As I draw closer I hear her breath coming out in ragged gasps as the man I married hammers her with his fingers. I think about her juice coating the ring that I slipped over his finger at the front of that church in front of all those people.

I want to lick it clean.

As I lean over and pour the wine, I feel her gaze on me and her sexual desire for me is almost a physical thing: I feel it caressing my body, stroking my nipples and circling my swelling clit. I am instantly more aroused than I have ever been in my entire life. My nipples are like two marbles under the tight black fabric of my uniform. I ache for a cock or a tongue or a finger to fill me.

I turn and leave, turning out of the living room into the corridor. He made me practice this bit, him waiting in the living room on the couch until I was perfect: I open and close the door to the small utility cupboard, then I open and close the front door before, quiet as a mouse, slipping silently into the utility cupboard and closing the door behind me.

I wanted to set up cameras. I wanted to be able to watch. Why couldn't he go to that guy in his IT team, who built our nannycam as a weekend project, and ask if he could sort something out, as a favour to his boss's boss? He smiled and told me no, that a cuckquean should know her place; that it pleased him to have me wait, and wait in a manner of his choosing while he fucks a worthier cunt.

The manner of his choosing is laid out in front of me now, lit with dim red lights on the top of the washing machine. I unzip my uniform and squirm out of it, struggling in the tiny space. For a moment I stand there naked, enjoying the feeling of the warm air caressing my body. Then I dress.

First is the collar: thin and lightweight, "Not a restraint, but a reminder," he said. Then a small metal buttplug. It's cold and I warm it in my hands, before lubing it with my own juice and squirming it into my asshole. As it settles into me I breathe deep and enjoy the feeling of being filled.

I think about what they might be doing in the next room. I think about her licking her arousal off his fingers, paying special attention to lick around his wedding band. The floor is hard wood. They'd go to the bedroom before doing much else.

As I take up the next item of clothing I hear them, walking along the corridor. Suddenly from behind me: Bang! I spin towards the door, gripping the thin leather straps in my hands to my chest in a reflexive protection of my modesty. Then I hear her moaning -- he has her pinned against the door.

I press my ear to the thin wood to hear better. I can hear the rustle as the fabric of her dress caresses her perfect skin. I hear them kissing, making out like two horny teenagers. Then a strange sound, then a thump against the door. Heavier. My husband. I hear his zipper and then a quiet growl in the back of his throat that can only mean she's taken him into her mouth.

I imagine her full lips wrapped around my husbands thick shaft. I wonder how much of him she can take. I smirk. Not much with a tiny mouth like that. I imagine her trying her best, both hands wrapped around his shaft. His long fingers lacing through her hair. Enjoying and controlling her.

I hear my husband moaning louder through the door. Small mouth or no, she's good. He only ever moans that loud for me when I'm lying on my back and he's deep in my throat. The shame and humiliation drives my hand between my legs and the leather harness falls to the floor, forgotten for the moment. I run one finger across my lips. They're full and moist and slightly parted like a prom-date waiting to be kissed. My clit is full and swollen and aches for my caress. I slip my fingers inside and rub my arousal all over my pussy before starting to rub my clit.

On the other side of the door. My husband is panting and growling. I've never made him do that. What the fuck is that tramp doing to his cock?

"Oh no." I recognise the tone. He's about to cum, and hard, "Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh fuck you're good."

He grunts as he cums, low and gutteral, like a man pulling out an arrow from his thigh. I imagine his hot cum gushing from his thick shaft like water from a firehose. She'll swallow it. She'll guzzle it down, eagerly taking all he has to give her.

I cum too, leaning back against the door, the other side to my husband. The buttplug filling my ass as his cum fills another -- worthier -- woman's mouth. I frantically grind my clit into the heel of my palm as I cum hard, muffling a scream.

As they continue towards the bedroom -- clearly not yet finished -- I slow my breathing and reach down and pick up the outfit my husband picked for me to wear while I wait for him to finish fucking another woman. It's a leather harness, designed to lift my tits and show off my cleft without doing anything for my modesty. I slip into it and fasten the buckles, gasping as the soft leather rubs against my tender clit.

*

My husband and the girl we met on Tinder are in the bedroom now, the other side of this thin wall, and I hear the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the headboard against the wall. I imagine her naked, her petite and lithe body leaning on the headboard as he grips her narrow hips and pounds her tight pussy with his thick member as I kneel meekly in this cupboard, harnessed and butt-plugged like the obedient sex-slave I am.

I think about how much he's stretching her. He's well-endowed for a white guy, and a tiny girl like that can't be that big. I imagine her gasping as he enters her and she starts to realise how big she is. Moaning as she feels him stretch her, forcing her wider and wider to accommodate him, and then--

I hear her cry out in ecstasy from next door. Rhythmically, with every thrust, she cries out as his thick cock slams deep into her willing cleft. I hear a slap. His hand on her tiny ass. She growls. She likes that. Another slap, louder this time. She cries out in pleasure. I imagine the red welt rising on her ass from my husband's hand.

I lean against the wall and listen. The harness strap between my legs is rubbing against my clit, sending shuddering waves through my body. No more thudding, but the mattress springs creak as they change positions. I think he'd want her on her back. He'd put her legs over his shoulders, grip her ass, and pound her into the bed.

I hear a slap again, and a gasp. Shock, surprise, and a low base tone of deep arousal. Her face. I imagine her looking up at him, her fingers caressing her stinging cheek. I writhe in the harness, grinding my clit harder against the soft leather straps.

"I think you liked that," I hear him say.

I don't hear her response, but I know she nodded because I hear another slap. Louder this time. She's moaning, crying out with each one of his thrusts into her.

"Fuck," I hear her say in accented English, "you fucking do that one more time and I'll cum all over your cock."

"You cum all over my cock and I'll cum up in your cunt."

"I already drank all your cum. You filled my belly as I swallowed every last drop. You've got none left inside you."

"Want to bet?"

"Ok. Fill me to the brim with cum and I will be your slave for 24 hours. Fail..."

She pauses and I imagine her smirking wickedly.

"And you will be my slave. Deal?"

In answer I hear only a ringing slap then the twin cries of my husband and the worthier cunt writhing in orgasm.

"My god, how are you still cumming? No, it's too much, it's spilling out all over the bed, you have to pull out!"

I imagine his hot load spilling out of her bare pussy, covering the bed and I cum, pulling the strap hard against my clit and grinding through the orgasm as I shudder against the wall.

"My eye! My eye! From there!? Are you a fucking mutant?"

I hear bare feet on carpet running to the bathroom then the sound of running water.

She's back after a few moments and I hear the springs creak as she crawls back into bed with him. I imagine them caressing each others bodies, kissing and touching, spent for now but still aroused.

"Your cleaner," she starts, "she's not just your cleaner is she?"

My husband laughs, "You've rumbled me."

Her voice is low, curious, "You've fucked her haven't you?"

"What was your first clue?"

"When you made her pour us wine with your fingers knuckle-deep inside me. You were teasing her with me. Trying to provoke her. Or arouse her."

"Do you think it worked?"

She laughs, "I think so. I saw it in her eyes. The last time I was that horny I ended up in the front seat of my car, in broad daylight, fucking myself with a cucumber."

"Seems a waste. Did you eat it afterwards?"

She laughs again, "Yes. I cut it up and fed it to my boyfriend in a salad. He asked me what I used for the delicious dressing. He'd never eat my pussy, but he gobbled that cucumber like a champ."

"There's a lesson there for all of us."

"What is that?"

"Some men like pussy, and others like cucumber..."

She laughs, "I think your cleaner likes both."

"It's important to have a balanced diet."

She giggles, and then I hear the bed creak as she pushes herself up on one arm to look at him.

"So what do you want to do now," she pauses, "master?"

She says it like a challenge. Like he has to win her obedience.

"I think we should get some food, and then maybe I'll give my cleaner a text, see if she wants to pop back in a private capacity, say in an hour or so."

She giggles and kisses him. I hear the bed creak as he pulls her to her feet and then the sound of feet padding softly on carpet as he leads her to the shower.

We hadn't talked about this. We hadn't planned this. She was just supposed to come over, fuck him, and leave. But now, what's happening now? What has my husband got planned, and why does speculating turn me on so much?

I am thinking about her now, in the shower, the soap suds slowly slipping down her chest. I imagine those long delicate hands caressing my body. Those full soft lips on mine. I imagine kneeling in front of her, taking her swollen clit between my lips...

I am startled out of my reverie by the front door closing. My phone buzzes on the table. It's my husband.

"Do your hair and makeup. Put on the strappy shoes and that dress that I like. Go to the coffee shop around the corner and I'll text you when we're home."

An hour. That's not long. Quickly I strip off the harness and slip out the butt plug, cleaning it before returning it to the felt bag. A quick shower -- my clit is too sore to touch right now. A blast from the hairdryer to give my hair some volume. I spend the longest on my eyes, giving them the smokey look I know he loves.

I know the dress he's referring to. It's a slinky number, ankle-length, but clinging tightly to my belly and hips. It has a fairly chaste neckline but a wicked side-slit to mid-thigh.

It's dark outside, and many couples are drinking wine on the terrace outside the cafe. I join them and take a seat, ordering an Aperol Spritz and sipping it slowly.

I'm about three-quarters finished when he messages me: "We're back, come on up."

I leave a generous tip on the table and buzz at my own front door. As the lift whisks me up to the penthouse, a little unsteady in heels, my stomach churns butterflies in my belly.

I breathe slowly, trying to get back into character. Imagining what this cleaner would be feeling at this point. What she'd be expecting. I decide that the cleaner is a little more adventurous than I am, that she's comfortable feeling attracted to this lithe and sensuous woman. That she's secretly hoping she's still there.

I knock on my own front door and the girl answers. She opens the door, a smile lighting her face. She poses for me, one hand on the door, and waits as I take in her attire: she's ditched the clingy sexy dress and stands almost completely naked, clothed in a smile, her heels, the harness I was wearing earlier, and a thick leather collar -- a restraint, not a reminder.

The harness looks better on her than it did on me, highlighting her narrow hips and enhancing her small but full bust. Her nipples are hard and dark in the chill air.

She balances on her heels with a dancer's poise, "Please," she says in her accented English, "come in."

I walk into the house and my husband greets me with an arm around my waist and a peck on each cheek. He's wearing a fresh shirt and suit-jacket. He indicates that I should sit down and I do so, smoothing my skirts over my legs.

"Slave, pour us some wine!" he commands.

She looks him in the eye, "No." A smile flickers across her lips.

He moves closer to her, meeting her gaze and his voice is firm, commanding:

"You will pour the wine."

She shakes her head. I barely see my husband move:

Slap slap slap slap.

She cries out in pain. My husband grips the front straps of her harness tight in his hand. His other smacks one ass-cheek after the other in quick succession:

Slap slap slap slap.

They are flushed bright red from the abuse. She looks like a baboon as she stands there, humiliated and in pain in front of me. I see the flush rising to her cheeks as she drops her gaze.

"Pour the wine, please," my husband says, his voice gentler.

"Yes, master," she says meekly, picking up the bottle and pouring two generous glasses.

We toast, and sip our wine, and look at each other. I feel the warmth of the fine red vintage course down my throat, joining the warmth glowing in my loins. I wait for him to lead, unsure of what will happen next. Is she my slave too, or just his?

"Do you know what? She's not dressed properly yet."

He turns to her: "Slave, turn around and put your hands on the sideboard."

She's very meek now, her ass still glowing like an over-ripe peach: "Yes, master."

My husband slips a hand into his pocket and brings out the buttplug from earlier.

"Would you do the honours?"

I take the metal toy in my hand, feeling the heft. It's still warm from my husband's pocket, but I lube it with my tongue. As I come closer I can smell her perfume, but also the musky smell of her arousal. Her skin is soft and smooth. I can't help but caress her as I locate her asshole and start to ease the plug inside.

As the metal touches her skin she gasps and flinches, but leans in to it, groaning only slightly as I force the plug into her. I don't think she's ever done anal play before. The plug is stretching her asshole wider and wider as I ease it into her. Finally I reach the shoulder of the plug and her body takes it in the rest of the way, drawing it un until the jeweled base is nestled between her ass cheeks. Her hands are white where they're gripping the sideboard and she's panting slightly.

I return to my seat.

"Slave, how do you feel?"

"One-third full, master."

My husband touches a remote and music starts to play again, slow and bassy, the sound both heard and felt deep inside.

"Slave, dance for us."

She nods and starts to dance. Her body swaying and writhing with the music. I sip my wine and watch her entranced. Her toned muscles ripple beneath supple flesh. Her body moves in sinuous waves, slinky and sensual. I notice her starting to pant, and I realise that the harness must be rubbing against her clit, as it rubbed against mine. She starts to caress her body with her hands, pinching her nipples as she writhes in the dance.

My husband places one hand on my thigh.

"Dance with her," he says.

His voice brooks no disagreement. I'm a terrible dancer, but I stand and shuffle over to where she's dancing and start to move awkwardly to the music.

She sees me and smiles. She shows me what to do, putting her hands on my hips and showing me how to move like her. I start to feel the music with my body. I close my eyes and brush my hair back over my shoulders.

She doesn't take her hands off my hips, but starts to dance with me. She moves closer, until our bodies are touching and we're grinding against eachother. Her nipples are hard and I can feel them rubbing against my own breasts through the thin fabric of my dress. I've never done anything with a girl before and my heart pounds in my chest.

She takes my hands and puts them on her hips, letting me feel her smooth flesh. Her own hands, she slips around my neck as she starts to grind the crotch-strap of the harness into me. I can feel it pressing into my clit through the sheer fabric of my dress, and I know it's pressing into hers on the other side. I can hear her breath coming in ragged gasps -- she's really getting off on this. We meet eyes and suddenly my lips are on hers and we're kissing, her mouth hot and eager as she grinds herself against my clit.

Out of the corner of one eye I see my husband, sitting back, just sipping his wine and watching. Suddenly the zipper on my dress is undone and she's lifting the straps off my shoulders. It tumbles to the floor and puddles around my feet. I am standing naked in front of her and her eyes are feasting on my bare body. The last time I was naked in front of another girl was in PE at school. My nipples start to harden under her gaze and she moves towards me again -- there's something of the feline about her, predatory and seductive.

We're kissing again but it's slower, more sensuous, as I feel every inch of her body with every inch of mine. I'm touching her, my fingertips exploring the outline of her hips, her firm belly, the smooth soft skin of her bare pussy as I slowly trace the tips of my fingers down between her legs and up inside her. I thought that this evening I'd just listen to my husband fuck another girl and wank myself. Now I'm knuckle deep in another girl's cunt and I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want her right now.

She takes her mouth off mine and starts to kiss my neck, then across my shoulders. She bends and takes one of my nipples into her mouth and sucks and flicks it with her tongue. Her kisses track down across my belly as she drops to her knees. She gives me one last smile, before she dips her head between my legs and takes me into her mouth.

I am ready for her, my clit swollen and sensitive. Her tongue is hot and eager, plunging deep into my waiting cunt. She tongue-fucks me, nuzzling my clit with her nose. Then she takes me into her mouth and sucks. Eager searching fingers slip inside me, rubbing my g-spot as she sucks hard on my clit.

I moan loudly and lace my fingers through her long dark hair. My clit is in her mouth and she's rubbing it with her tongue. My legs feel like jelly. I step back and sit down into a chair. She kneels down between my legs, looking me in the eye with a wicked grin as she slowly lowers her head, taking me into her mouth and slipping her fingers back inside me.

I glance at my husband and he's watching us, his eyes taking in the scene, his wine glass resting easily in his hand as he enjoys his own private sex show. His cock is still in his trousers but I can see it, thick and hard as it strains against the thin fabric as he watches us perform for his pleasure.

This girl may never have done anal before, but she's definitely been with another girl. Her fingers expertly caress my g-spot as she sucks hard on my clit. I moan involuntarily. I put on a good show for my husband, lacing my fingers through her hair as I lean back in the chair, my eyes closed. One of my breasts is in my other hand and I start to pinch and pull my nipples.

This is so intense. Waves of heat radiate out from my clit and my whole body feels like a coiled spring, ready to explode. I'm so close to cumming, my breath is coming out in ragged gasps. She feels it and starts to roughly finger-fuck me, sucking harder on my clit, drawing it deep into her mouth. I pinch my nipples hard as I grind my clit into her mouth and suddenly I convulse in orgasm, my hips bucking and I cry out as I cum hard into her mouth.

She lifts her lips from my clit and slips her fingers out of my still-pulsing pussy. I can see her chin glistening with my cunt juice. She locks eyes with me and licks her fingers clean one-by-one. She sighs in satisfaction and crawls up the chair before planting a sloppy, salty kiss right on my lips. Then she turns to my husband. He meets her eye, grinning wickedly as she prowls towards him.

As she draws close he reaches out and unbuckles the crotch strap of her harness, revealing her bare pussy and swollen clit, her cunt lips parted and glistening with arousal. He's unzipped his trousers and she straddles him, taking his thick shaft in her hand and smiling as she feels his throbbing member, slick with pre-cum.

He takes her hips in his hands and slides her down onto him, impaling her on his shaft. She gasps as he enters her, his ample girth stretching her wide to accommodate him. She leans forward and starts to ride him, moaning as his shaft slides ever deeper into her. He takes one of her nipples into his mouth and she gasps as he bites it gently.

He meets my eyes over her shoulder and glances behind me. I follow his gaze and see a brown leather bag on the floor. I open it and grin. I take the straps in my hands and buckle on the thick black strap-on dildo. I wince as the crotch-strap brushes against my swollen sensitive clit. I squeeze some lube onto my hand and rub it all over the thick shaft.

I kneel between my husband's legs, behind his slave as she straddles him, riding his cock. I grip the buttplug and she gasps as I slowly ease it out of her. She looks back at me, then looks down at the dildo. I see her eyes widen and she swallows nervously, but she leans forward, obediently presenting her asshole.

The dildo is thicker than the buttplug and I have to slowly ease it in, each inch of the shaft stretching her asshole as she moans and grunts and cries out, straining to accommodate the length and girth of the black rubber toy.

Finally the whole thing is inside her, her tight asshole wrapped around the base of the shaft. She leans forward and kisses my husband hungrily on the lips. I start to thrust into her asshole with the thick dildo and she gasps at the intense sensation. I grip her hips and pound her harder. She leans forward and buries her face in my husband's chest, his pectoral muscles muffling her cries as I pound her tight ass with the thick toy.

He whispers in her ear, "I want you to fuck me, slave, not just sit on my cock."

She nods obediently and starts to ride him. We fall into a rhythm-- her lifting up and back off his cock in time for me to drive forward with the dildo into her ass. Her slipping down onto him as I pull back for another thrust. She's having to focus her entire concentration on the motion as intense waves of sensation wrack her body.

She leans forward and whispers to my husband: "I'm going to cum master. Please let me cum."

He smiles and nods, "Cum hard for me. I want to feel your cunt cumming all over my dick."

She nods obediently and almost immediately cums, leaning forward and burying her face in my husbands neck as she pants and cries through the waves of orgasm wracking her petite body.

My husband, feeling her clenching tight around his cock, quickly cums too. I hear his grunt as he starts to empty himself in to her. I pull back and I can see his shaft twitching as he fills her with his hot seed, pumping his balls dry and filling her to the brim. I see a dribble leak out of her around the edge, where her pussy lips are wrapped around his thick member, and dribble down the underside of his cock.

He looks at me, "I think I've made a mess for you to clean up."

It's my turn to nod obediently as I dip my head and she lifts off him. Before today I'd done nothing with another girl, not even so much as a girl's school crush, but I don't have to think twice about this -- I get a quick glance of her pussy stretched wide open and filled to the brim with cum before my lips are clamping around the entrance and I'm eagerly delving with my tongue, reaching deep inside her, lapping eagerly at the hot seed. The familiar taste of my husband's load mingles with her arousal in my mouth and I eagerly swallow the slutty cocktail.

At last she is empty. With her juice and my husband's load dribbling down my chin, I turn my attention to my husband, carefully cleaning every inch of his shaft with my tongue before returning to the other girl's pussy. A dribble of cum has leaked out of her and is starting to drip from her clit. I catch the drip in my mouth and suck her clit clean of the rest. She gasps as I take her sensitive clitoris in my mouth, carefully cleaning it with my eager tongue. I slip my fingers into her gaping sloppy hole and start to scoop out the last of my husband's load into my willing lips, before licking them clean like I've just finished a plate of doughnuts.

We all collapse in a heap on the sofa, exhausted. I feel my husband's slave nuzzle into my shoulder.

I love being a cuckquean.