Take Me Out To The Old Ball Game
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A New Ball Game - Chapter Two free porn video
Chapter Two
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Carole was working as a junior housekeeper at the Dorchester when we became 'officially' involved. At the time I thought it must have been fate that brought us together although Carole soon disabused me of that idea!
I think whirlwind romance would best describe our courtship because we went from first kiss, to engaged, to married in the space of a few months.
I'd actually known her father for some time but only as someone who used the same pub in the village where my mother moved to after my father died. When I used to visit my mother ('coming home' she called it although I never actually ever lived there) I would often go down with my new stepfather, Walter to the local pub and have a drink. He was an inoffensive chap and whilst we had little in common he was pleasant enough company and as a matter of course I was introduced to his circle of friends who he used to meet to gossip over a pint or two. One friend, Ernie, was seemingly always in attendance at the pub when we got there and occasionally he brought his daughter Carole, who I reckoned to be 16 or 17 at the time (half my age!), along with him and, daringly, she was allowed to have alco-pops.
My weekend visits soon assumed this 'other attraction' and I used to look forward to seeing her for she was, to my eyes, a Wet Dream with the most important feature in a girl that I lusted after, a beautiful pair of big tits! What was even nicer was it became apparent that she knew I had noticed and far from being embarrassed or annoyed at my obvious interest she used to go out of her way to tease me by deliberately leaving some of the buttons on her blouse undone so that I could get a better view. Many the nights after my pub visits would I spend wanking as I imagined my face (or my cock) buried between those gorgeous globes.
There was another regular visitor at the pub with whom I used to strike up a conversation. His name was Donald (Donny to his friends) and although he was a lot younger than me it turned out we shared a common passion for football and, more to the point, a love of a London team, Fulham, so we always had plenty to talk about. Another frequent topic of our conversation was Carole for he had noticed my interest in her whenever she was there with her Dad.
Donny was quick to tell me that he used to be at the same school as her and when I confessed to my fascination he was quite open about telling me that Carole was not 'not my type' and unsuitable. Wanting to prove his point he told me that he and all the boys in his year at school had fucked her and that as far as he was aware most of the seniors had too. He told me that Carole had gained the notoriety of being referred to as the 'school bicycle' because everyone had ridden her.
Far from putting me off I didn't tell Donny that he had actually increased her appeal to me and from that day on I had more visions to add to my virtual 'Wank Bank' of scenarios and guide my hand at night in bed as I imagined seeing big cocks, bigger than mine, fucking her sweet pussy.
Carole left school and went off to college to study, coincidentally, Hotel Management. She wasn't always present on my weekend pub visits due to her being away from home but on the few occasions she was there with her Dad I had every excuse to get to know her better given our now shared occupation and her chosen career path.
I think it amused Donny when he saw the two of us together and I don't know what was going through his head but the reality was that I acted like a proper gentleman toward my 'wet dream' and the conversation between Carole and me was mostly related to our line of work and nothing more erotic than that. What I didn't appreciate at the time was that she really fancied me and was sending out signals that I should have picked up on. Given my lack of experience in having a normal relationship with a 'female of the species' her flirting flew straight over me unrecognised.
Our relationship came to a head at the end of the year when she invited me to be her partner at the New Year's party at the pub. Being a Gentleman I accepted the honour and it was when I picked her up to go to the pub that the penny dropped that she was looking for me to be more than someone who just wanted to talk about the hotel trade. She was dressed in a short skirt and a blouse which showed off a flimsy uplift bra under the sheer material. I was not imagining things when I noted that her nipples were erect beneath the delightful covering of silk and lace. The short skirt revealed she was wearing stockings, not tights, and in an attempt to add to her height she was wearing 3 inch high heels on her feet. She looked gorgeous and I banked the vision to be revisited in the near future.
It was a great party and on several occasions she came with me to the bar to assist me whenever it was my turn to buy the drinks for our group. The place was crowded and I was delighted when I felt her press herself against my back and sensed those stiff nipples rubbing me through my shirt.
The night ended as all New Years parties do with fireworks and singing of Auld Lang Sine and sharing hugs and kisses with whoever was within range. Carole was, as she had all evening, been my closest companion and as the chimes of Big Ben rang out I relaxed my 'gentleman persona' and I took her in my arms and had the first kiss with the girl of my dreams. It wasn't a full-on tongue-twirling kiss, I was far too much of a introvert to think that my desires might have be shared by this delightful girl toward me but had I been more savvy towards the way women think I might have recognised that she was looking for more from me than just a peck on the cheek.
I was not to know that she had the hots for me and that when we kissed that she was longing for me to slip my hand inside her blouse and under her bra; that, in the crush of people giving cover, had I lifted the hem of the short skirt I would have found that she wasn't wearing panties (apparently she never did, something else I was to discover) and that she was willing me to put my cock where my fingers would have been but, staid old me didn't know and we both parted and so our evening together in the pub ended.
I saw her safely home and we had another brush of the lips when I said good night, her to go to lay in her bed and play with her wet pussy and clit; me to get to my bed and have a glorious wank while thinking about those big tits with stiff nipples brushing my chest as she lay on top fucking me.
However, that brush of the lips was the trigger for her to make a date with me (yes, she made the first move, not me. Another indicator of what a submissive person I was at heart) and thereafter when I came home for the weekend we would go out on proper dates. I was giddy with excitement at having this beautiful young creature as a girlfriend and although she hinted a few times that she was willing for me to make it to 'third base' I always backed off at the invitation due, in part, to that strict moral code imposed on me by my upbringing and also having a fear of being a disappointment to her when my perceived inadequacies were revealed. In my pompous fashion I told her that I had too much respect for her and that sexual intercourse was the sacred preserve of a man and wife; in truth, the idea would excite me and her flirting gave me much mental fodder for later that night when I went to my bed to stroke my stiff little cock to another orgasm.
Her parents knew we dating and I was aware that they had great reservations about the age difference between us but she won them over with her conviction that the gap in years was irrelevant when set against how strongly we felt about each other. I was never privy to those conversations and, for myself, I never had any thoughts beyond us having a good time in each other's company and certainly wasn't aware that she had already told her parents that 'we' were thinking of getting married. Her argument was two-fold inasmuch that she told them she would be marrying someone who would give her the security that came along with me having an established career; the other string of her line of reasoning was that we have known each other for most of our lives (not true) and that she had always believed I was the man for her and that had I told her the same, that she was the only girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
The last comment was also not true for I had certainly never said anything of the sort and we'd never had such a conversation so it was a big surprise to me when one Sunday after we had all been to church that we sat down to lunch and after Grace had been said that Carole said she had an announcement. To the astonishment of all she said we were going to get married. It was the first I heard of it and I was struck dumb!
I never did have much to say about our engagement and it was assumed by all that I must be part of the unfolding arrangements that led to us to the altar. The truth was that I went through the ensuing months in a state of shock as I wrestled with the approaching reality of actually fucking a woman. There I was, a 40 year old virgin and scared out of my skin at the thought that my cock was soon to be enveloped by the wet warm pussy of a willing woman.
To be honest the thought of having sex with her was daunting and when I told Sister Contrary about the engagement the reaction of my Dominatrix was to tell me that I must buy myself out of serfdom if I expected to become free of my black mistress's control. She also concurred my decision not to have sex with Carole before we married with the excuse that it was to satisfy both my religious convictions and out of my deep respect for my future wife. She smiled when she told me that and added that she thought that Carole was going to be so disappointed when we went on our honeymoon. She then sent a chill down my back by saying that perhaps she would invite herself to the wedding so that she could advise Carole as to what a disappointment I would be once we were wed.
In the months leading up to the wedding day I continued to have my regular sessions with my dominatrix Sister Contrary who, it may seem strange to say, I saw as a true friend who I could chat to once she had finished 'treating' me in much the same way as I do with the Vicar at my Church, a sort of confessional. After serving black dominatrix for so long I already knew I was sexually worthless and was well prepared for the shame of having a premature ejaculation almost as soon as the tip of my cock brushed against her pussy lips.
I can't remember what price she put on my freedom but on my last visit she reminded me of the decision of refusing to have sex with Carole before we married saying that I was , "a good boy to have such strong religious convictions and to have so much respect for my future wife."
Sister Contrary didn't follow through on her intention to attend the wedding and speak to Carole, she didn't need to for her premonition about the honeymoon was spot-on, it was a sexual disaster.
We left the day after the wedding for our honeymoon in Rome, the eternal city. I don't know why it was so called but I do know that I sank into a state of eternal humiliation from our very first night.
It was all supposed to go so well. I had been 'released' by Sister Contrary from my obligations to her; I had the blessings from our parents; I had married the girl of my dreams who had made it quite obvious she was looking forward to my making love to her. I had even prepared myself for losing my virginity by dressing myself in a brand new pair of silk pyjamas!
I used the bathroom first and got myself into bed to await her appearance expecting to see her clad in some sexy lingerie that matched the fantasies that I had held of her. I was taken aback when she emerged from the bathroom completely naked and displaying to me for the first time her shaven pussy. Her full tits I had seen before but nevertheless they made a welcome sight as I focussed on those amazing stiff nipples. I quickly got over my shock and my cock reacted in a positive way and, unseen, was soon tenting my pyjamas beneath the sheets.
She came over to the bed and I suspect she had a shock of her own when she pulled back the covers and found that I was actually wearing pyjamas; she had been expecting to find me as naked as herself. She successfully hid her disappointment and lay alongside me and no words were exchanged as I leaned over and we began to cuddle and kiss. In my mind all my inhibitions about 'pre-marital sex' were forgotten and at last I was able to touch those wonderful breasts without fear of being disturbed or rebuffed and my excitement increased as I squeezed and caressed her and felt her reaction as I pinched and sucked the stiff nipples. I must have been doing something right for it seemingly drove her wild and before I knew it she pushed me back on the bed and clambered on top of me with her legs astride mine and those glorious tits brushing my face ....
... and that was when it all went wrong. I felt her fumbling to find the fly of my pyjamas and then for her to pause when she found the object of her desires, my tiny cock. With the darkness of the room I was unable to see the expression on her face but I'm sure it must have been one of disappointment and confusion as to what to do next.
My 'training' with Sister Contrary hadn't prepared me for this situation but I thought the next best move was to rid myself of the pyjamas and so I awkwardly pulled them off so that my stiff little dick could be better revealed. Carole assisted me in getting rid of the troublesome garment and once they had dropped to the floor she returned her gaze at my less than impressive manhood and reached over to take me in hand. As I felt her fingers close around my stubby stiffness it felt just like whenever I had been with Sister Contrary and within seconds of her squeezing me I began to cum as my orgasm washed over me.
Disaster, I felt so ashamed that I had let myself down in such an embarrassing fashion but my beautiful, lovely wife told me not to worry saying that she understood how excited I must have been with it being my 'first time' and that it would be better the next.
Wrong, it didn't get better, the tone was set and even though the following night I managed, just, to get my cock into her incredible wet pussy it only took a couple of strokes before once again I shot off my premature ejaculation.
Carole was amazingly understanding and made no comments that would add to my disgrace. What was most humiliating though was hearing her tell me not to worry 'that it could happen to anyone' because given what I knew about her I was sure that I was the first she'd tried to do it with who didn't perform.
Indeed, after a few more evenings of failed attempts on my part she began to have diplomatic headaches so that there would be an excuse for me not to try and so it was that our honeymoon played out with my horny wife getting her satisfaction by means that didn't involve my cock and me going into the bathroom to have a surreptitious wank hoping she didn't notice my absence.
Perhaps matters might improve once we got home and settled down to our new married life was my thinking but once again disappointment was the only result when every time thereafter we attempted to make love that within seconds my pathetic cock would spurt and spew its load often before I could even get it into her. I was bereft with shame and could only imagine what a disappointment I must be to my incredibly understanding wife.
So it was that our love making went to a different level with a lot of kissing, cuddling and me bringing Carole to what she said was satisfactory orgasms by my fondling her tits and nipples (which I knew she loved) and playing with her prominent clit which likewise I soon learned how best to stimulate. From my experiences with my different dominatrix I knew just how to use my tongue to maximum effect and Carole would purr with delight as I lapped away while at the same time I would finger-fuck her slippery cunt.
For myself it was not a problem for she would have quickly brought me off the seconds after we touched and often I would be licking my own cum which was smearing her thighs. Indeed, it became something that I used to look forward to thinking that my diligence in cleaning her up would be appreciated and somehow would compensate for my failings. Devious thoughts perhaps but I was so desperate to please her.
However, all was not lost for despite not being able to achieve proper penetrative sex I was still able to fulfil her desire to get pregnant and for us to have a c***d. In my ignorance I had believed that for a woman to get successfully impregnated that it required a stiff cock to at least make some headway into a vagina before ejaculating that life-creating juice. Not so, as I was soon to learn, those wriggling little sperms have a mind of their own when it comes to making their way to the womb and even though my efforts were often deposited just inside her, nature (with a little help from her fingers) did the rest. She assisted in the process by encouraging me to fuck her when she knew she was at her most fertile time of the month.
So it was that I was filled with pride when she announced after having missed her period that test had shown she was pregnant and expecting our first c***d. I don't think I have ever felt as happy as I did that day, to know that perhaps I was a man after all.
Emilie, our perfect daughter, was born later that year and my focus turned to being the best father I could be. My reward for doing a good job as a father was a couple of years later when Carole allowed me to make her pregnant again and soon we had a son, Jorge, to complete our perfect little family.
(Once it was confirmed that she was once again pregnant was the last time my cock ever got close to her pussy!)
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The next few years were dominated by the demands of parenthood and it seemed to me that sex took a back seat as we concentrated our energies on bringing up two perfect c***dren. I didn't consider trying to impose myself on Carole sensing that any attempt would only result in the same frustrating 'un-happy ending' but I frequently took myself off to the bathroom or the spare room and played with my little stiff cock to that glorious point of orgasm which was bought about as I re-run the sight of her and her gorgeous milk-filled breasts being offered to our innocent babies. How I wished that she would let me suckle those globes was my thinking as my cum spurted over my grasping hand.
I never did ask her how she gained relief. I just assumed that she likewise must have masturbated in her own fashion when she wasn't otherwise occupied with all that was needed to be done tending to our growing family. I did often fantasise about her taking a lover (well, not actually 'a lover', anyone with a big cock would do) and for me to watch as she was being properly fucked but it was a thought I kept to myself whenever I might visit the bathroom.
Something else that I kept to myself was my secret 'Porn Stash', a leftover from my bachelor days. I had all manner of magazines which fed my fantasies with their themes of the BDSM, the like of which I had enjoyed in the dungeons of my mistresses. Others had the recurring theme of cuckoldry and the dissatisfaction of wives who took lovers because their husbands were so inadequate. That was a scenario that stuck with me whenever I was wanking in the bathroom (or in the spare room where I kept my stash) and if I wasn't imagining her big tits brushing my face then I would be envisaging her being fucked by some big-dicked stud.
I had given consideration to buying her a 'lady-massager' and to give it to her as a surprise present. In those pre-internet days there were businesses invariably associated with men's barber shops where such items were for sale under the counter and under the guise of being 'surgical appliances'. They were never explicitly described as being sex toys but the penis-shaped device which had a vibrating core left no doubt as to their function.
I never did sum up the courage to buy one but unknown to me she had visited the new phenomena on the British high street, a 'Ann Summers' Sex shop, and purchased a vibrator, a modest sized purple one, which I had to presume was used whenever she found her own special time in between her other demands of the c***dren. Certainly I never actually witnessed her using it but just assumed she 'made friends' with her purple rocket in my absence.
As the c***dren grew older we had to be more discrete with our 'love making' albeit that it was never anything other than us laying under the bed covers and for me to be fondling Carole's lovely tits, squeezing her forever erect nipples and to play with her also forever stiff button clitoris. We would 'spoon' and I would rub my stiff dick between her cheeks and occasionally would feel the heat that radiated from her pussy and invariably this close contact would be sufficient for me to cum and spurt my load over her thighs. She said she enjoyed it as she also bought herself off using her fingers but I was never totally convinced that she was finding the experience satisfactory. The discovery of the vibrator suggested that she was looking for more than what I was providing.
Our sex life went up a notch when she made a discovery of her own. We had always had our little secrets but one of mine was laid bare when one day she was looking for a tool, a screwdriver or something to fix a sticking kitchen drawer. She went to the spare room to search and found, not as she had expected, a toolbox, but rather, my carefully hidden box on a top shelf, my 'Porn Stash'. The sticking drawer was forgotten as she riffled through the contents and to her amusement and education found the source of what had excited me over the years.
When I came in from work that day I was mortified when she without a word and without showing any embarrassment of her own took me through to the bedroom and there on the bed was the very recognisable box. She tipped it up and my collection of dog-eared magazines, books and photographs spilled out onto the bed and I was overcome with shame when it became clear that she had looked through them and I wondered if she had noticed that some had questionable stains on the pages that had resulted from my wanking.
Her reaction was a complete surprise. She gave me a sympathetic hug and said that she wasn't mad with me, she understood that I might need to get relief in some other way saying, in as many words, 'given my shortcomings'. After my heart-rate had slowed down to a normal level and the blush had left my face she said that perhaps we might do a little light reading together later that night once the k**s had gone to bed.
Then she said the most important thing of all, she said she loved me very much and that she always would, regardless of 'my shortcomings' and so began the journey leading us to where we are today.
*******
.. to be continued.
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Carole was working as a junior housekeeper at the Dorchester when we became 'officially' involved. At the time I thought it must have been fate that brought us together although Carole soon disabused me of that idea!
I think whirlwind romance would best describe our courtship because we went from first kiss, to engaged, to married in the space of a few months.
I'd actually known her father for some time but only as someone who used the same pub in the village where my mother moved to after my father died. When I used to visit my mother ('coming home' she called it although I never actually ever lived there) I would often go down with my new stepfather, Walter to the local pub and have a drink. He was an inoffensive chap and whilst we had little in common he was pleasant enough company and as a matter of course I was introduced to his circle of friends who he used to meet to gossip over a pint or two. One friend, Ernie, was seemingly always in attendance at the pub when we got there and occasionally he brought his daughter Carole, who I reckoned to be 16 or 17 at the time (half my age!), along with him and, daringly, she was allowed to have alco-pops.
My weekend visits soon assumed this 'other attraction' and I used to look forward to seeing her for she was, to my eyes, a Wet Dream with the most important feature in a girl that I lusted after, a beautiful pair of big tits! What was even nicer was it became apparent that she knew I had noticed and far from being embarrassed or annoyed at my obvious interest she used to go out of her way to tease me by deliberately leaving some of the buttons on her blouse undone so that I could get a better view. Many the nights after my pub visits would I spend wanking as I imagined my face (or my cock) buried between those gorgeous globes.
There was another regular visitor at the pub with whom I used to strike up a conversation. His name was Donald (Donny to his friends) and although he was a lot younger than me it turned out we shared a common passion for football and, more to the point, a love of a London team, Fulham, so we always had plenty to talk about. Another frequent topic of our conversation was Carole for he had noticed my interest in her whenever she was there with her Dad.
Donny was quick to tell me that he used to be at the same school as her and when I confessed to my fascination he was quite open about telling me that Carole was not 'not my type' and unsuitable. Wanting to prove his point he told me that he and all the boys in his year at school had fucked her and that as far as he was aware most of the seniors had too. He told me that Carole had gained the notoriety of being referred to as the 'school bicycle' because everyone had ridden her.
Far from putting me off I didn't tell Donny that he had actually increased her appeal to me and from that day on I had more visions to add to my virtual 'Wank Bank' of scenarios and guide my hand at night in bed as I imagined seeing big cocks, bigger than mine, fucking her sweet pussy.
Carole left school and went off to college to study, coincidentally, Hotel Management. She wasn't always present on my weekend pub visits due to her being away from home but on the few occasions she was there with her Dad I had every excuse to get to know her better given our now shared occupation and her chosen career path.
I think it amused Donny when he saw the two of us together and I don't know what was going through his head but the reality was that I acted like a proper gentleman toward my 'wet dream' and the conversation between Carole and me was mostly related to our line of work and nothing more erotic than that. What I didn't appreciate at the time was that she really fancied me and was sending out signals that I should have picked up on. Given my lack of experience in having a normal relationship with a 'female of the species' her flirting flew straight over me unrecognised.
Our relationship came to a head at the end of the year when she invited me to be her partner at the New Year's party at the pub. Being a Gentleman I accepted the honour and it was when I picked her up to go to the pub that the penny dropped that she was looking for me to be more than someone who just wanted to talk about the hotel trade. She was dressed in a short skirt and a blouse which showed off a flimsy uplift bra under the sheer material. I was not imagining things when I noted that her nipples were erect beneath the delightful covering of silk and lace. The short skirt revealed she was wearing stockings, not tights, and in an attempt to add to her height she was wearing 3 inch high heels on her feet. She looked gorgeous and I banked the vision to be revisited in the near future.
It was a great party and on several occasions she came with me to the bar to assist me whenever it was my turn to buy the drinks for our group. The place was crowded and I was delighted when I felt her press herself against my back and sensed those stiff nipples rubbing me through my shirt.
The night ended as all New Years parties do with fireworks and singing of Auld Lang Sine and sharing hugs and kisses with whoever was within range. Carole was, as she had all evening, been my closest companion and as the chimes of Big Ben rang out I relaxed my 'gentleman persona' and I took her in my arms and had the first kiss with the girl of my dreams. It wasn't a full-on tongue-twirling kiss, I was far too much of a introvert to think that my desires might have be shared by this delightful girl toward me but had I been more savvy towards the way women think I might have recognised that she was looking for more from me than just a peck on the cheek.
I was not to know that she had the hots for me and that when we kissed that she was longing for me to slip my hand inside her blouse and under her bra; that, in the crush of people giving cover, had I lifted the hem of the short skirt I would have found that she wasn't wearing panties (apparently she never did, something else I was to discover) and that she was willing me to put my cock where my fingers would have been but, staid old me didn't know and we both parted and so our evening together in the pub ended.
I saw her safely home and we had another brush of the lips when I said good night, her to go to lay in her bed and play with her wet pussy and clit; me to get to my bed and have a glorious wank while thinking about those big tits with stiff nipples brushing my chest as she lay on top fucking me.
However, that brush of the lips was the trigger for her to make a date with me (yes, she made the first move, not me. Another indicator of what a submissive person I was at heart) and thereafter when I came home for the weekend we would go out on proper dates. I was giddy with excitement at having this beautiful young creature as a girlfriend and although she hinted a few times that she was willing for me to make it to 'third base' I always backed off at the invitation due, in part, to that strict moral code imposed on me by my upbringing and also having a fear of being a disappointment to her when my perceived inadequacies were revealed. In my pompous fashion I told her that I had too much respect for her and that sexual intercourse was the sacred preserve of a man and wife; in truth, the idea would excite me and her flirting gave me much mental fodder for later that night when I went to my bed to stroke my stiff little cock to another orgasm.
Her parents knew we dating and I was aware that they had great reservations about the age difference between us but she won them over with her conviction that the gap in years was irrelevant when set against how strongly we felt about each other. I was never privy to those conversations and, for myself, I never had any thoughts beyond us having a good time in each other's company and certainly wasn't aware that she had already told her parents that 'we' were thinking of getting married. Her argument was two-fold inasmuch that she told them she would be marrying someone who would give her the security that came along with me having an established career; the other string of her line of reasoning was that we have known each other for most of our lives (not true) and that she had always believed I was the man for her and that had I told her the same, that she was the only girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
The last comment was also not true for I had certainly never said anything of the sort and we'd never had such a conversation so it was a big surprise to me when one Sunday after we had all been to church that we sat down to lunch and after Grace had been said that Carole said she had an announcement. To the astonishment of all she said we were going to get married. It was the first I heard of it and I was struck dumb!
I never did have much to say about our engagement and it was assumed by all that I must be part of the unfolding arrangements that led to us to the altar. The truth was that I went through the ensuing months in a state of shock as I wrestled with the approaching reality of actually fucking a woman. There I was, a 40 year old virgin and scared out of my skin at the thought that my cock was soon to be enveloped by the wet warm pussy of a willing woman.
To be honest the thought of having sex with her was daunting and when I told Sister Contrary about the engagement the reaction of my Dominatrix was to tell me that I must buy myself out of serfdom if I expected to become free of my black mistress's control. She also concurred my decision not to have sex with Carole before we married with the excuse that it was to satisfy both my religious convictions and out of my deep respect for my future wife. She smiled when she told me that and added that she thought that Carole was going to be so disappointed when we went on our honeymoon. She then sent a chill down my back by saying that perhaps she would invite herself to the wedding so that she could advise Carole as to what a disappointment I would be once we were wed.
In the months leading up to the wedding day I continued to have my regular sessions with my dominatrix Sister Contrary who, it may seem strange to say, I saw as a true friend who I could chat to once she had finished 'treating' me in much the same way as I do with the Vicar at my Church, a sort of confessional. After serving black dominatrix for so long I already knew I was sexually worthless and was well prepared for the shame of having a premature ejaculation almost as soon as the tip of my cock brushed against her pussy lips.
I can't remember what price she put on my freedom but on my last visit she reminded me of the decision of refusing to have sex with Carole before we married saying that I was , "a good boy to have such strong religious convictions and to have so much respect for my future wife."
Sister Contrary didn't follow through on her intention to attend the wedding and speak to Carole, she didn't need to for her premonition about the honeymoon was spot-on, it was a sexual disaster.
We left the day after the wedding for our honeymoon in Rome, the eternal city. I don't know why it was so called but I do know that I sank into a state of eternal humiliation from our very first night.
It was all supposed to go so well. I had been 'released' by Sister Contrary from my obligations to her; I had the blessings from our parents; I had married the girl of my dreams who had made it quite obvious she was looking forward to my making love to her. I had even prepared myself for losing my virginity by dressing myself in a brand new pair of silk pyjamas!
I used the bathroom first and got myself into bed to await her appearance expecting to see her clad in some sexy lingerie that matched the fantasies that I had held of her. I was taken aback when she emerged from the bathroom completely naked and displaying to me for the first time her shaven pussy. Her full tits I had seen before but nevertheless they made a welcome sight as I focussed on those amazing stiff nipples. I quickly got over my shock and my cock reacted in a positive way and, unseen, was soon tenting my pyjamas beneath the sheets.
She came over to the bed and I suspect she had a shock of her own when she pulled back the covers and found that I was actually wearing pyjamas; she had been expecting to find me as naked as herself. She successfully hid her disappointment and lay alongside me and no words were exchanged as I leaned over and we began to cuddle and kiss. In my mind all my inhibitions about 'pre-marital sex' were forgotten and at last I was able to touch those wonderful breasts without fear of being disturbed or rebuffed and my excitement increased as I squeezed and caressed her and felt her reaction as I pinched and sucked the stiff nipples. I must have been doing something right for it seemingly drove her wild and before I knew it she pushed me back on the bed and clambered on top of me with her legs astride mine and those glorious tits brushing my face ....
... and that was when it all went wrong. I felt her fumbling to find the fly of my pyjamas and then for her to pause when she found the object of her desires, my tiny cock. With the darkness of the room I was unable to see the expression on her face but I'm sure it must have been one of disappointment and confusion as to what to do next.
My 'training' with Sister Contrary hadn't prepared me for this situation but I thought the next best move was to rid myself of the pyjamas and so I awkwardly pulled them off so that my stiff little dick could be better revealed. Carole assisted me in getting rid of the troublesome garment and once they had dropped to the floor she returned her gaze at my less than impressive manhood and reached over to take me in hand. As I felt her fingers close around my stubby stiffness it felt just like whenever I had been with Sister Contrary and within seconds of her squeezing me I began to cum as my orgasm washed over me.
Disaster, I felt so ashamed that I had let myself down in such an embarrassing fashion but my beautiful, lovely wife told me not to worry saying that she understood how excited I must have been with it being my 'first time' and that it would be better the next.
Wrong, it didn't get better, the tone was set and even though the following night I managed, just, to get my cock into her incredible wet pussy it only took a couple of strokes before once again I shot off my premature ejaculation.
Carole was amazingly understanding and made no comments that would add to my disgrace. What was most humiliating though was hearing her tell me not to worry 'that it could happen to anyone' because given what I knew about her I was sure that I was the first she'd tried to do it with who didn't perform.
Indeed, after a few more evenings of failed attempts on my part she began to have diplomatic headaches so that there would be an excuse for me not to try and so it was that our honeymoon played out with my horny wife getting her satisfaction by means that didn't involve my cock and me going into the bathroom to have a surreptitious wank hoping she didn't notice my absence.
Perhaps matters might improve once we got home and settled down to our new married life was my thinking but once again disappointment was the only result when every time thereafter we attempted to make love that within seconds my pathetic cock would spurt and spew its load often before I could even get it into her. I was bereft with shame and could only imagine what a disappointment I must be to my incredibly understanding wife.
So it was that our love making went to a different level with a lot of kissing, cuddling and me bringing Carole to what she said was satisfactory orgasms by my fondling her tits and nipples (which I knew she loved) and playing with her prominent clit which likewise I soon learned how best to stimulate. From my experiences with my different dominatrix I knew just how to use my tongue to maximum effect and Carole would purr with delight as I lapped away while at the same time I would finger-fuck her slippery cunt.
For myself it was not a problem for she would have quickly brought me off the seconds after we touched and often I would be licking my own cum which was smearing her thighs. Indeed, it became something that I used to look forward to thinking that my diligence in cleaning her up would be appreciated and somehow would compensate for my failings. Devious thoughts perhaps but I was so desperate to please her.
However, all was not lost for despite not being able to achieve proper penetrative sex I was still able to fulfil her desire to get pregnant and for us to have a c***d. In my ignorance I had believed that for a woman to get successfully impregnated that it required a stiff cock to at least make some headway into a vagina before ejaculating that life-creating juice. Not so, as I was soon to learn, those wriggling little sperms have a mind of their own when it comes to making their way to the womb and even though my efforts were often deposited just inside her, nature (with a little help from her fingers) did the rest. She assisted in the process by encouraging me to fuck her when she knew she was at her most fertile time of the month.
So it was that I was filled with pride when she announced after having missed her period that test had shown she was pregnant and expecting our first c***d. I don't think I have ever felt as happy as I did that day, to know that perhaps I was a man after all.
Emilie, our perfect daughter, was born later that year and my focus turned to being the best father I could be. My reward for doing a good job as a father was a couple of years later when Carole allowed me to make her pregnant again and soon we had a son, Jorge, to complete our perfect little family.
(Once it was confirmed that she was once again pregnant was the last time my cock ever got close to her pussy!)
*******
The next few years were dominated by the demands of parenthood and it seemed to me that sex took a back seat as we concentrated our energies on bringing up two perfect c***dren. I didn't consider trying to impose myself on Carole sensing that any attempt would only result in the same frustrating 'un-happy ending' but I frequently took myself off to the bathroom or the spare room and played with my little stiff cock to that glorious point of orgasm which was bought about as I re-run the sight of her and her gorgeous milk-filled breasts being offered to our innocent babies. How I wished that she would let me suckle those globes was my thinking as my cum spurted over my grasping hand.
I never did ask her how she gained relief. I just assumed that she likewise must have masturbated in her own fashion when she wasn't otherwise occupied with all that was needed to be done tending to our growing family. I did often fantasise about her taking a lover (well, not actually 'a lover', anyone with a big cock would do) and for me to watch as she was being properly fucked but it was a thought I kept to myself whenever I might visit the bathroom.
Something else that I kept to myself was my secret 'Porn Stash', a leftover from my bachelor days. I had all manner of magazines which fed my fantasies with their themes of the BDSM, the like of which I had enjoyed in the dungeons of my mistresses. Others had the recurring theme of cuckoldry and the dissatisfaction of wives who took lovers because their husbands were so inadequate. That was a scenario that stuck with me whenever I was wanking in the bathroom (or in the spare room where I kept my stash) and if I wasn't imagining her big tits brushing my face then I would be envisaging her being fucked by some big-dicked stud.
I had given consideration to buying her a 'lady-massager' and to give it to her as a surprise present. In those pre-internet days there were businesses invariably associated with men's barber shops where such items were for sale under the counter and under the guise of being 'surgical appliances'. They were never explicitly described as being sex toys but the penis-shaped device which had a vibrating core left no doubt as to their function.
I never did sum up the courage to buy one but unknown to me she had visited the new phenomena on the British high street, a 'Ann Summers' Sex shop, and purchased a vibrator, a modest sized purple one, which I had to presume was used whenever she found her own special time in between her other demands of the c***dren. Certainly I never actually witnessed her using it but just assumed she 'made friends' with her purple rocket in my absence.
As the c***dren grew older we had to be more discrete with our 'love making' albeit that it was never anything other than us laying under the bed covers and for me to be fondling Carole's lovely tits, squeezing her forever erect nipples and to play with her also forever stiff button clitoris. We would 'spoon' and I would rub my stiff dick between her cheeks and occasionally would feel the heat that radiated from her pussy and invariably this close contact would be sufficient for me to cum and spurt my load over her thighs. She said she enjoyed it as she also bought herself off using her fingers but I was never totally convinced that she was finding the experience satisfactory. The discovery of the vibrator suggested that she was looking for more than what I was providing.
Our sex life went up a notch when she made a discovery of her own. We had always had our little secrets but one of mine was laid bare when one day she was looking for a tool, a screwdriver or something to fix a sticking kitchen drawer. She went to the spare room to search and found, not as she had expected, a toolbox, but rather, my carefully hidden box on a top shelf, my 'Porn Stash'. The sticking drawer was forgotten as she riffled through the contents and to her amusement and education found the source of what had excited me over the years.
When I came in from work that day I was mortified when she without a word and without showing any embarrassment of her own took me through to the bedroom and there on the bed was the very recognisable box. She tipped it up and my collection of dog-eared magazines, books and photographs spilled out onto the bed and I was overcome with shame when it became clear that she had looked through them and I wondered if she had noticed that some had questionable stains on the pages that had resulted from my wanking.
Her reaction was a complete surprise. She gave me a sympathetic hug and said that she wasn't mad with me, she understood that I might need to get relief in some other way saying, in as many words, 'given my shortcomings'. After my heart-rate had slowed down to a normal level and the blush had left my face she said that perhaps we might do a little light reading together later that night once the k**s had gone to bed.
Then she said the most important thing of all, she said she loved me very much and that she always would, regardless of 'my shortcomings' and so began the journey leading us to where we are today.
*******
.. to be continued.
Kaylin
- 22.04.2022
- 10
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