Cuckoldry Descent in Older Age Chapter 4
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Cuckoldry Descent In Older Age. Chapter 2 free porn video
Story so far ........ Xena, my wife Mandy's close friend, is a sadistic narcissist who played both of us in a game that dramatically changed both our lives. But before I explain how the game played out, I need to talk more about Mandy and the vicissitudes of our own unusual sex life............
Chapter 2: Mandy
Mandy is an attractive woman, with a strong personality that men find appealing. She is strong willed and confident, driven in what she does and persistently achieves her goals. Dominant in her interactions with others – other men and women, as well as me - she is a natural and charismatic leader and easily draws others into her projects as helpers and supporters. Strong men have described her as "having balls". Physically, she is about 5ft 4, a little above average in weight, carrying a bit of extra flab around the middle. Her hair is regularly colored blonde, no grey ever evident, and is worn medium long, parted in the middle. Over the years, her breasts have enlarged considerably: small to regular in size before the c***dren, but now forty or more years later, they are large and bulbous, hanging voluptuously down to her waist.
Like me - and Xena for that matter - Mandy has a large libido. In the old days, she would be what men called a nymphomaniac. Unfortunately for her, though, I have never been well-endowed down below; and, unfortunately for me, she is now sort of cavernous inside; again, a physical trait that evolved during our marriage, eventually reaching the point, as we shall see later, where conventional sex became ineffective; during the act, neither of us were able to feel the coital friction needed to orgasm. It became obvious that she needed someone much better endowed than me to meet her needs. And though I often suggested it, she simply wouldn't buy in. Instead, she simply had me service her with the various sex aids she sourced and brought home. And for many years this was enough for her.
But despite the fact that our physical fit for coitus was poor, Mandy still insisted for a long while that conventional sex remain an integral part of bedroom activities. This was for a complex of reasons, though all but one gradually dissipated as Xena's influence on Mandy took hold. The first reason was that, like most humans, Mandy craved intimate touch, a need long conditioned into the human subconscious; something silicone and rubber dongs can’t provide. She wanted something warm and carbon based inside her. Second, she insisted on monogamy - part of her social upbringing, and the reason why she hadn’t looked seriously at other men. Thirdly, she subscribed to the idea of “wifely duty” – the biblical concept that a wife has a “duty” to allow her husband to use her body for sexual relief. Allowing me coital sex seemed to relieve her sense of obligation, even though the act was functionally futile.
So, until Xena so effectively changed her mind about these things, Mandy was blinded by biological and social conditioning factors. She just couldn’t see the obvious – that her libidinous needs could be met easily and more enjoyably by other men whenever needed – and there were always men around interested in her; men find her more than attractive, and frequently make passes at her. Even today, in her 70s, she has no difficulty, many quite young – presumably attracted to experiencing sex with an alluring older woman.
As said, I’d frequently suggested she brought other men home for sex. I’d even suggested we go out to find men to service her, to make it a fun erotic activity. The idea of watching her get with another guy was a huge turn on for me, particularly if it involved my own humiliation. But she always refused, sometimes getting upset, saying she was married and didn’t believe in married women having sex with other men. “It would be wrong,” she’d say, or "It's against my beliefs". And so we continued through the unsatisfactory ritual. The bit I did like though was being told what to do to bring her to orgasm, before being allowed to jerk off in front of her. It wa obvious even then that she loved the control and enjoyed seeing me pull off under her impassive watch. This tapped well into my need for submission and humiliation.
In any case, Mandy’s conventional beliefs at the time meant that any hope I had for being cuckolded was not likely to be realised. She simply seemed to accept my limitations. Gradually, though, Xena let Mandy know what she was missing, both through graphic accounts of her own deviant sex life and by introducing her to a moral relativity that gave permission to sexual indulgence: the argument being, if I couldn't perform, I had no right to insist she was denied (which if course I didn’t). Just as I had, Xena pointed out that there were plenty of other men available and that most would be more than willing to oblige; and that I should just stand back and not get in the way.
Xena was much more persuasive than I was. These and a number of other ideas that she exposed Mandy to ended up having a powerful effect on her attitudes – not only regarding the priority of her own sexual needs, but also towards the role of men. Eventually, this transformed into sexual frustration and a change in attitude towards me. She started openly demeaning my masculinity privately, even during sexual activity. She would verbally abuse me, calling me a poor excuse of a man – even suggesting on some occasions that maybe she did need to find someone to do he job properly. Her sexual frustration started to emerge publicly also. She became more and more disdainful of me in front of others, often going out of her way to humiliate me, openly admitting to guests how frustrating it was that I was so small.
Mandy also began loosening up sexually at social gatherings, overtly flirting with men she fancied. She started dressing provocatively and became overtly exhibitionist. I could see when she got dressed that she was not wearing any underwear - sheer tops deliberately making obvious her pendulous breasts and nipples under sheer fabric, and with pubic displays with knees provocatively apart in front of some man she liked. I could also see she enjoyed me watching her get ready, knowing I was too submissive to say anything. And she loved to make sure I was there to witness the humiliation. She'd walk over to me and say: "Come over and watch Chris. They're really interesting men, much more than you. They said they’d love you to sit down with us, as she covertly rolled her eyes suggestively at me. She’d then order me to get them drinks. Usually when I got there, she would demonstrate my servility by having me get them drinks or refills. When I came back, she would be in full display mode. “Hurry up, Chris, give the men their drinks”, she’d say, while giving an up skirt display. I watched them blatantly looking up her skirt and ogling her breasts. She’d insist I sit down next to her during the display; she’d pat me on the leg and rub over my cock, saying “Look, he’s got a little hardon. He gets off on being made to look like a dick.” as she rubbed me up and down. I might let him masturbate tonight.” They’d look at me and laugh pityingly, obviously wondering why I allowed her to publicly humiliate me. The reality, of course, was that I got off on it, watching other men get aroused as she teased them with her attractive body.
But Mandy was still not at that time letting other men penetrate her, despite letting them know she had sexual needs. This was, I guess, my initial foray into cuckoldry. It obviously helped her address her sexual frustration, and always led to urgent demands for my sexual servitude after the event.
As Mandy became more frustrated, her approach to sex at home became much more libertarian. She bought some new bedroom apparatus following a suggestion from Xena. This was a sex machine that she bought some adult shop out in the suburbs. On this occasion, she made me go with her. The girls in the shop smirked as she told me to pay attention to their account of how the machine worked. After explaining the mechanics, the girls brought out the range of fitted dildo options. Mandy shrieked: "My God, Chris. Look at this!" as she picked up a noticeably thick one that would have been at least 7 inches in length. She turned to the girls and confided in low voice, nodding her head in my direction: "He's so small." The girls sniggered, looking down towards the source of Mandy's displeasure. I don't think Mandy had any idea at the time how her enthusiasm for the machine delivered such delicious humiliation to me in front of a couple of good looking twenty somethings. Anyway, the sex machine consisted of a pumping arm driven by an electrical motor. At the end of the arm was a head mechanism over which one fitted the customized dildos. Once positioned correctly, lubricated and placed inside the female, the dildo could be moved back and forth across a range of thrust depths and a number of stroke speeds, thereby simulating the mechanics of sexual intercourse. But it could do far more and last far longer than any man, providing an experience that for many women was mind blowing. For Mandy, it was unbelievably effective for quite some time, producing explosive orgasms, particularly with the larger dildos, though obviously it lacked the warm blooded dynamics of a well fitted, copulating body. And it was because of this, in the end, that it just wasn’t enough. It was more than good, but not sufficient; she still craved human touch and body action.
So, for quite a while, my main job in the sex department became that of machine operator. The machine became the main activity, with my task being to change heads, speed and thrust on demand, lubricate her vagina as needed, and to do my best concurrently, when a hand was free, to stimulate her clitoris with a variable speed vibrator. Mandy loved the machine. Soon, she found a second hand, gynecological chair, with stirrups. The chair had precise positional adjustments, so I was able to tailor it to her body to ensure optimal entry and operation of the machine, whilst she lay in comfort, head and torso at about 45 degrees, legs well apart. Once optimized, we set the system up permanently in one of the spare bedrooms.
As said, she found the orgasms overwhelming, and she would go almost daily for hit after hit. When she felt the need for one, she would call me urgently: “Chris, duty!”, then go into the spare room, undress, get into the chair, put her feet into the stirrups, knees apart, and wait for me; and I would then start things up.
I could tell how much she looked forward to sexual stimulation from this machine. Her vulva was usually well inflamed and heavily swollen, with the swelling extending well into the vaginal cavity. Even before we started. I’d rub lube around and into her opening, fit the dildo onto the sliding arm, then wind the arm forward so the dildo was positioned well inside her, spreading lubrication with my fingers as we went, in preparation for operation. I would then turn on the power and the arm would slowly start moving back and forward in her, gradually increasing speed to the setting chosen. Once operating at the desired speed, I would start clitoral stimulation. Within minutes, her eyes were rolling, her cheeks flushed, breathing increased in both sound and pace, and hips move rhythmically with the pace of the machine. During all this, I kept the flow of lube going to prevent burns – we were using large diameter dildos that occupied her cavity fully. As she approached orgasm, she became increasingly breathless, often issuing sharp commands to increase speed further. Suddenly she would explode, with carnal groans and a****l grunts and urgent sexual expletives: “Fuck. Fuck. Oh my God. Harder. Chris .... more on the clit! Harder. Oh fuck….” During this phase, her body convulsed, usually for a minute or two as the orgasm hit, then she would visibly collapse, exhausted, eyes closed, lube and bodily fluids dripping out of her onto the floor. Occasionally, once the dildo was removed, she would squirt a cloudy discharge onto the floor. Watching her always gave me a huge hard on, as she panted and screamed into her climax.
After each orgasm, I slowed the arm to a stop and then sat quietly waiting for her cue, in case she wanted more. I watched her closely as her breathing slowed, the flushing in her face reduced, and the now prominent vaginal tissue stopped pulsating. The whole process had quite a transformative effect on her genital tissue - enlarged and blood red, I could see it pressing down on the widened entrance to her vaginal cavity, as if trying to escape. Then, gradually, after a few minutes, everything subsided. Then, almost predictably, she would look at me, eyes unfocused as if d**gged, and say in uncharacteristic low voice: "More, Chris. I need more." Then her eyes would close again, waiting for me to deliver the next orgasm. And so, the process would repeat. It was rare that she would ever be satisfied with less than two climaxes in this way. When finally she was satisfied, she would wave her hand vaguely in the direction of my penis and indicate she was now ready for wifely duty. My turn. I would then pull the machine out of the way, stand in front of her and enter. Perversely, one upside of the machine for me was the fact that she was so swollen, with her vaginal cavity so compressed on itself, that for a short while my cock could obtain something purchase. So, for a minute or so, as I pumped back and forth, I could even feel my sperm rising. However, she soon dilated and quickly tired of my efforts and would wave dismissively for me to pull out, wifely duty done: "OK that's enough, Chris. It’s starting to bore me. You can pull off now."
Obediently, I would frantically jerk off and ejaculate on her. Then clean the mess off her. Always during this phase, I was self-consciously aware she was watching me closely, maybe trying to get a handle on my subservient nature. As if finally starting to see who I really was. I realized later how much such insight activated the sadistic streak within her. I suspect she started to realize how much she liked seeing me submit to her and how much she enjoyed such control. I think during that period, she acquired her taste for humiliating me.
As time went on, Xena's tempting dialogues about another sort of sex life started taking hold. Mandy was clearly starting to hint at the need for something more. I was just waiting and hoping for the day. And things were indeed looking up: she was starting to engage in sexualized, exhibitionist behavior at social gatherings and going out of her way to humiliate me. Her belief in monogamy was clearly starting to wane. So, I sustained my fantasies, passively willing the change in her, silently hoping for my nirvana: to be able to watch Mandy having sex with other men, and humiliatingly serving their needs. It was starting to look more and more possible.
Chapter 3 to follow …..
Chapter 2: Mandy
Mandy is an attractive woman, with a strong personality that men find appealing. She is strong willed and confident, driven in what she does and persistently achieves her goals. Dominant in her interactions with others – other men and women, as well as me - she is a natural and charismatic leader and easily draws others into her projects as helpers and supporters. Strong men have described her as "having balls". Physically, she is about 5ft 4, a little above average in weight, carrying a bit of extra flab around the middle. Her hair is regularly colored blonde, no grey ever evident, and is worn medium long, parted in the middle. Over the years, her breasts have enlarged considerably: small to regular in size before the c***dren, but now forty or more years later, they are large and bulbous, hanging voluptuously down to her waist.
Like me - and Xena for that matter - Mandy has a large libido. In the old days, she would be what men called a nymphomaniac. Unfortunately for her, though, I have never been well-endowed down below; and, unfortunately for me, she is now sort of cavernous inside; again, a physical trait that evolved during our marriage, eventually reaching the point, as we shall see later, where conventional sex became ineffective; during the act, neither of us were able to feel the coital friction needed to orgasm. It became obvious that she needed someone much better endowed than me to meet her needs. And though I often suggested it, she simply wouldn't buy in. Instead, she simply had me service her with the various sex aids she sourced and brought home. And for many years this was enough for her.
But despite the fact that our physical fit for coitus was poor, Mandy still insisted for a long while that conventional sex remain an integral part of bedroom activities. This was for a complex of reasons, though all but one gradually dissipated as Xena's influence on Mandy took hold. The first reason was that, like most humans, Mandy craved intimate touch, a need long conditioned into the human subconscious; something silicone and rubber dongs can’t provide. She wanted something warm and carbon based inside her. Second, she insisted on monogamy - part of her social upbringing, and the reason why she hadn’t looked seriously at other men. Thirdly, she subscribed to the idea of “wifely duty” – the biblical concept that a wife has a “duty” to allow her husband to use her body for sexual relief. Allowing me coital sex seemed to relieve her sense of obligation, even though the act was functionally futile.
So, until Xena so effectively changed her mind about these things, Mandy was blinded by biological and social conditioning factors. She just couldn’t see the obvious – that her libidinous needs could be met easily and more enjoyably by other men whenever needed – and there were always men around interested in her; men find her more than attractive, and frequently make passes at her. Even today, in her 70s, she has no difficulty, many quite young – presumably attracted to experiencing sex with an alluring older woman.
As said, I’d frequently suggested she brought other men home for sex. I’d even suggested we go out to find men to service her, to make it a fun erotic activity. The idea of watching her get with another guy was a huge turn on for me, particularly if it involved my own humiliation. But she always refused, sometimes getting upset, saying she was married and didn’t believe in married women having sex with other men. “It would be wrong,” she’d say, or "It's against my beliefs". And so we continued through the unsatisfactory ritual. The bit I did like though was being told what to do to bring her to orgasm, before being allowed to jerk off in front of her. It wa obvious even then that she loved the control and enjoyed seeing me pull off under her impassive watch. This tapped well into my need for submission and humiliation.
In any case, Mandy’s conventional beliefs at the time meant that any hope I had for being cuckolded was not likely to be realised. She simply seemed to accept my limitations. Gradually, though, Xena let Mandy know what she was missing, both through graphic accounts of her own deviant sex life and by introducing her to a moral relativity that gave permission to sexual indulgence: the argument being, if I couldn't perform, I had no right to insist she was denied (which if course I didn’t). Just as I had, Xena pointed out that there were plenty of other men available and that most would be more than willing to oblige; and that I should just stand back and not get in the way.
Xena was much more persuasive than I was. These and a number of other ideas that she exposed Mandy to ended up having a powerful effect on her attitudes – not only regarding the priority of her own sexual needs, but also towards the role of men. Eventually, this transformed into sexual frustration and a change in attitude towards me. She started openly demeaning my masculinity privately, even during sexual activity. She would verbally abuse me, calling me a poor excuse of a man – even suggesting on some occasions that maybe she did need to find someone to do he job properly. Her sexual frustration started to emerge publicly also. She became more and more disdainful of me in front of others, often going out of her way to humiliate me, openly admitting to guests how frustrating it was that I was so small.
Mandy also began loosening up sexually at social gatherings, overtly flirting with men she fancied. She started dressing provocatively and became overtly exhibitionist. I could see when she got dressed that she was not wearing any underwear - sheer tops deliberately making obvious her pendulous breasts and nipples under sheer fabric, and with pubic displays with knees provocatively apart in front of some man she liked. I could also see she enjoyed me watching her get ready, knowing I was too submissive to say anything. And she loved to make sure I was there to witness the humiliation. She'd walk over to me and say: "Come over and watch Chris. They're really interesting men, much more than you. They said they’d love you to sit down with us, as she covertly rolled her eyes suggestively at me. She’d then order me to get them drinks. Usually when I got there, she would demonstrate my servility by having me get them drinks or refills. When I came back, she would be in full display mode. “Hurry up, Chris, give the men their drinks”, she’d say, while giving an up skirt display. I watched them blatantly looking up her skirt and ogling her breasts. She’d insist I sit down next to her during the display; she’d pat me on the leg and rub over my cock, saying “Look, he’s got a little hardon. He gets off on being made to look like a dick.” as she rubbed me up and down. I might let him masturbate tonight.” They’d look at me and laugh pityingly, obviously wondering why I allowed her to publicly humiliate me. The reality, of course, was that I got off on it, watching other men get aroused as she teased them with her attractive body.
But Mandy was still not at that time letting other men penetrate her, despite letting them know she had sexual needs. This was, I guess, my initial foray into cuckoldry. It obviously helped her address her sexual frustration, and always led to urgent demands for my sexual servitude after the event.
As Mandy became more frustrated, her approach to sex at home became much more libertarian. She bought some new bedroom apparatus following a suggestion from Xena. This was a sex machine that she bought some adult shop out in the suburbs. On this occasion, she made me go with her. The girls in the shop smirked as she told me to pay attention to their account of how the machine worked. After explaining the mechanics, the girls brought out the range of fitted dildo options. Mandy shrieked: "My God, Chris. Look at this!" as she picked up a noticeably thick one that would have been at least 7 inches in length. She turned to the girls and confided in low voice, nodding her head in my direction: "He's so small." The girls sniggered, looking down towards the source of Mandy's displeasure. I don't think Mandy had any idea at the time how her enthusiasm for the machine delivered such delicious humiliation to me in front of a couple of good looking twenty somethings. Anyway, the sex machine consisted of a pumping arm driven by an electrical motor. At the end of the arm was a head mechanism over which one fitted the customized dildos. Once positioned correctly, lubricated and placed inside the female, the dildo could be moved back and forth across a range of thrust depths and a number of stroke speeds, thereby simulating the mechanics of sexual intercourse. But it could do far more and last far longer than any man, providing an experience that for many women was mind blowing. For Mandy, it was unbelievably effective for quite some time, producing explosive orgasms, particularly with the larger dildos, though obviously it lacked the warm blooded dynamics of a well fitted, copulating body. And it was because of this, in the end, that it just wasn’t enough. It was more than good, but not sufficient; she still craved human touch and body action.
So, for quite a while, my main job in the sex department became that of machine operator. The machine became the main activity, with my task being to change heads, speed and thrust on demand, lubricate her vagina as needed, and to do my best concurrently, when a hand was free, to stimulate her clitoris with a variable speed vibrator. Mandy loved the machine. Soon, she found a second hand, gynecological chair, with stirrups. The chair had precise positional adjustments, so I was able to tailor it to her body to ensure optimal entry and operation of the machine, whilst she lay in comfort, head and torso at about 45 degrees, legs well apart. Once optimized, we set the system up permanently in one of the spare bedrooms.
As said, she found the orgasms overwhelming, and she would go almost daily for hit after hit. When she felt the need for one, she would call me urgently: “Chris, duty!”, then go into the spare room, undress, get into the chair, put her feet into the stirrups, knees apart, and wait for me; and I would then start things up.
I could tell how much she looked forward to sexual stimulation from this machine. Her vulva was usually well inflamed and heavily swollen, with the swelling extending well into the vaginal cavity. Even before we started. I’d rub lube around and into her opening, fit the dildo onto the sliding arm, then wind the arm forward so the dildo was positioned well inside her, spreading lubrication with my fingers as we went, in preparation for operation. I would then turn on the power and the arm would slowly start moving back and forward in her, gradually increasing speed to the setting chosen. Once operating at the desired speed, I would start clitoral stimulation. Within minutes, her eyes were rolling, her cheeks flushed, breathing increased in both sound and pace, and hips move rhythmically with the pace of the machine. During all this, I kept the flow of lube going to prevent burns – we were using large diameter dildos that occupied her cavity fully. As she approached orgasm, she became increasingly breathless, often issuing sharp commands to increase speed further. Suddenly she would explode, with carnal groans and a****l grunts and urgent sexual expletives: “Fuck. Fuck. Oh my God. Harder. Chris .... more on the clit! Harder. Oh fuck….” During this phase, her body convulsed, usually for a minute or two as the orgasm hit, then she would visibly collapse, exhausted, eyes closed, lube and bodily fluids dripping out of her onto the floor. Occasionally, once the dildo was removed, she would squirt a cloudy discharge onto the floor. Watching her always gave me a huge hard on, as she panted and screamed into her climax.
After each orgasm, I slowed the arm to a stop and then sat quietly waiting for her cue, in case she wanted more. I watched her closely as her breathing slowed, the flushing in her face reduced, and the now prominent vaginal tissue stopped pulsating. The whole process had quite a transformative effect on her genital tissue - enlarged and blood red, I could see it pressing down on the widened entrance to her vaginal cavity, as if trying to escape. Then, gradually, after a few minutes, everything subsided. Then, almost predictably, she would look at me, eyes unfocused as if d**gged, and say in uncharacteristic low voice: "More, Chris. I need more." Then her eyes would close again, waiting for me to deliver the next orgasm. And so, the process would repeat. It was rare that she would ever be satisfied with less than two climaxes in this way. When finally she was satisfied, she would wave her hand vaguely in the direction of my penis and indicate she was now ready for wifely duty. My turn. I would then pull the machine out of the way, stand in front of her and enter. Perversely, one upside of the machine for me was the fact that she was so swollen, with her vaginal cavity so compressed on itself, that for a short while my cock could obtain something purchase. So, for a minute or so, as I pumped back and forth, I could even feel my sperm rising. However, she soon dilated and quickly tired of my efforts and would wave dismissively for me to pull out, wifely duty done: "OK that's enough, Chris. It’s starting to bore me. You can pull off now."
Obediently, I would frantically jerk off and ejaculate on her. Then clean the mess off her. Always during this phase, I was self-consciously aware she was watching me closely, maybe trying to get a handle on my subservient nature. As if finally starting to see who I really was. I realized later how much such insight activated the sadistic streak within her. I suspect she started to realize how much she liked seeing me submit to her and how much she enjoyed such control. I think during that period, she acquired her taste for humiliating me.
As time went on, Xena's tempting dialogues about another sort of sex life started taking hold. Mandy was clearly starting to hint at the need for something more. I was just waiting and hoping for the day. And things were indeed looking up: she was starting to engage in sexualized, exhibitionist behavior at social gatherings and going out of her way to humiliate me. Her belief in monogamy was clearly starting to wane. So, I sustained my fantasies, passively willing the change in her, silently hoping for my nirvana: to be able to watch Mandy having sex with other men, and humiliatingly serving their needs. It was starting to look more and more possible.
Chapter 3 to follow …..
Bree
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