Xena Versus The Spartans
- 4 years ago
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BreakMe - Part 2 ... free porn video
- This new one, you'll do her on Saturday, at five... here. Full week! – Marisa closed the planner and turned off the PC; in the meanwhile, I dished out the tuna and olive spaghetti I had just cooked, perfectly al dente.
- What do you mean, "new"? – I asked her, as we sat down at the table.
- New, as in, she's new... I don't know her: that's all. – a sarcastic smile appeared on her lips as she helped herself to a delicate Soave, chosen carefully to match with the summer meal.
- Uhm... you're hiding something... – I said, half joking and preoccupied.
- Ok! This "new one" is a certain Messalina-70 – she added quickly– and she describes herself as a Switch... basically, I can't tell what she wants: she pays well, and has already bought a lot of things... now let's eat!
My mouth was already stuffed, but I couldn't hold it in:
- Hey, is this one a beater? – I asked, worried.
- So? – She had already clouded up, and I didn't want the tension to increase, then she added:
– What's the problem? Honey, this is a job, understood? It's gotta be for both of us... don't forget. It's not like I bust my ass around the house and you go fuck around, happy and satisfied! If you don't want to do this just say it, I'll do everything on my own, ok? I might even make more out of it.
- No, honey... what's the problem? Can't we even talk about it? – to avoid fighting I focused on the spaghetti. I knew she was completely right. Selling services to couples or lone women was a delicate work, at least in the beginning. Earning their trust wasn't easy. It wasn't easy for a respectable woman to allow, so easily, to a stranger, to come into her home; and into her existence. There were a thousand fears... While my love, constantly received proposals from men (but also from many women) of the site, some of which were really interesting.
The fact that men are exhibitionist is well known. Once it was clear that Mater Obscura was a terrible and unreachable woman, men went wild: masters, slaves, and smart-asses. The offers were, sometimes, so tempting, I myself had trouble advising her to turn them down.
Saturday grew closer. I was becoming increasingly embarrassed and pensive, even the clients noticed. What was troubling me, was the equipment that Messalina-70 had required, beyond my services: handcuffs, ropes, a whip, and other, dangerous, "tools". Marisa had been inflexible on one point in particular: I would have worn a rubber mask at all times... this, I really couldn't understand. I had been meeting many people for a while, without ever worrying about my identity; Marisa was sure that clients would have never admitted to knowing me. They were the ones who had lost the most anyway.
The rendezvous was in a hotel, a bit far off. I got there at three, with a suitcase full of BDSM equipment, all completely new. I undressed, down to my underwear, black and tight, and I carefully prepared the goods on the living room's couch, next to the room, which was equipped with a large king bed.
At four o'clock precisely, the room's phone rang, a weird voice told me it was the person I was waiting for, and that she would have been there in a few minutes.
I turned off the TV, rinsed my mouth, to wash off the taste of the beer I'd just drank, and wore the latex mask, which covered my face down to the nose. When I took a look at the mirror I felt like a true idiot! I was in my underwear, with my forty-years-old physique, neither athletic nor toned. The head, tight in the shiny rubber, seemed smaller. I looked like a black-headed match, or a hero from the comics with an idiotic expression; I was almost tempted to remove that ridicolous mask... Then, "Messalina" came in the room, and suddenly I thanked the heavens I didn't take the mask off.
Luckily I was sitting on the couch, that's probably why I couldn't drop to the floor from my astonishment: I perfectly knew Messalina70, a beautiful, elegant, and very attractive lady, and I couldn't understand what sort of game we were playing!
What kind of prank was Marisa pulling on me? The woman who had just entered the room, with an authoritative and hasty look, who had stopped between the two rooms of the suite, decided and firm, grading me, from head to toes, as if I were a lab-rat, was Annalisa, my ex-wife!
I didn't know what she knew. I didn't know how much she knew... The situation was extremely embarrassing: I feared Marisa; I feared Annalisa; I was completely floored.
- Drop on the floor... down! – My ex-wife told me, decisive and aggressively, without giving away whether she had recognized me or not – Stay there, on all fours! Hush, and be good. – meanwhile, she was pointing at the floor with her finger.
I obeyed; as I was trying to gain some time to understand. I thought back on Annalisa as lover: I couldn't deny she wasn't half bad, but over the five years when we had fun, she had never given away any signs of being sadist or masochist. True, we had done everything and beyond, she really liked sex, but... well, it wasn't the time to drive down memory lane.
Annalisa ignored me; she removed her red silk shirt, got comfortable, and started to study the equipment I had brought with me.
- Ah, ah... I like this! – she laughed, heartedly, and picked up a studded collar with a leash, studied it, and then threw it to me, with indifference: – Put this on, dog!
As I obliged, I saw her coming towards me: she really was a beautiful woman. Thin, lean, her wiry legs were clad in black stockings, which gleamed off silky reflections.
She was wearing black high heels shoes, but I was used to her exciting garments, she liked being liked.
Truth be told, once you took away the incompatibility of character and mind, from a physical perspective, I always liked her a lot. I had also loved her sensual femininity, constantly shown carefully, to flash, and stand out... actually, yes: Annalisa had a dominant character, even though, when she'd been my wife, she could never intimidate me.
Now, as I was seeing her as a stranger, I was realizing she was very sexy, and she dressed up to show it, always. I mean, she wasn't one of those ladies who dress up like a mechanic three hundred and fifty days a year and suddenly, one night, show up dressed as a porn star, with frills and laces.
Honestily, I couldn't find that arousing, their inability to wear stylishly the most seductive lingerie reminded me more of a Mardi Gras...
Annalisa was one of those women, maybe a bit old-fashioned, who always wear heels, even on the mountains, and who wear skirts of every type and fashion, with a light hint, under the soft fabric, that allowed a careful eye to catch a glimpse of a garter belt, hidden at the right height, arousing fantasies, even today, when feminine nudity is shown around like lettuce in a market.
I heard the metallic click of the hook on the chain as it was clipped to the leather collar, then a painful pressure tightened my neck: she was pushing my head down with the tip of her shoes. She pushed until my face was touching the floor.
-Good, little bastard, stay down, smell the dirt... you'll be licking it in a minute. – she laughed. Then she tugged me back up, and pulling at me by the neck, she forced me to follow her, still on all fours, to the bathroom. I was behind her ass: despite the embarrassment, I was excited by her hips moving. The bottom of her butt cheeks sneaked, at every step, out of the long, serious, skirt, with a long split along the side, which made you want to tear it, to enjoy the show beneath it. I was so close I could smell the warm perfume of her deodorant.
Annalisa tied me to the sink's column, and then made me sit down, "sit", she said, mocking me. She wasn't done with me yet.
She handcuffed me, ensuring I was comfortable, but most of all, that I was facing the right direction, the bathroom's door. I could see the bedroom, and at the same time, I was exposed enough so that anyone could see me: tied, on my knees, in the bathroom, humiliated in handcuffs.
My ex started walking around the room; observing the scene from several angles; she was placing sadistic tools in strategic points and, sometimes, checked up on me, as is she was judging me, which embarrassed me quite a bit.
Time was going by, it was clear she wasn't in a hurry, as I was starting to suffer for my uncomfortable position, constipated and blocked, in that small space.
When all the scene seemed set to her satisfaction, Annalisa, as I wasn't there, came to the bathroom, standing over the toilet. She slid her cotton skirt up, slowly revealing herself.
The show was intense and exciting: her legs were freed gradually, then the skirt revealed her thighs too. She was wearing a simple black, modern, garter belt, with no frills or laces, and some black knickers, so thin they formed a grey veil over her most intimate parts. I swallowed, unable to bear that wonderful sight. As my body temperature started exceeding the allowed, I noted that her pussy was completely shaved, which had never happened in seven years of marriage and fucking...
Annalisa was only pretending she didn't see me, I became certain when she turned around, to show me the magic that that small silk triangle could unleash: her knickers covered only half of her butt, toned and generous, halfway through her buttocks, the light lace became a G-string, and the thin thread disappeared inside, creating the explosive desire to follow that route, to go and taste her ass, still so high... and inviting.
It overcame me. I couldn't fake being indifferent, that vision was heavenly, and it brought back to mind all the games that that special ass had played. Annalisa enjoyed very much taking it from behind, which for my was true godsend, and I took advantage of it any time I could.
I remembered that the attraction between us had always been a lot, she liked the way I fucked her, she told me constantly. I remembered... as my cock grew inside my boxer shorts: it was a "mushroom", with a dark and menacing bell. Thanks to her welcoming anus, we had solved many practical problems... for instance, we had no need for condoms or other protections, I could control my ejaculation perfectly. I could simply control myself to the climax point, then, I came, completely, deep in her ass. I stayed there, tired, resting on her, with my cock drenched in our fluids; still hard and pulsing regularly, utterly independent from my own will. The same went for those days in which traditional fucking wasn't aloud; that was when her ass suffered my attacks even more than usual.
By now, I was horny I was starting to think why I gave up such a wonderful woman; my arousal was starting to drive me mad!
Still seeming indifferent, she slid down her knickers, and with no introduction, she started peeing in the toilet, with the typical fountain noise that, reminds the man, exactly the shape of a pussy: a welcoming, wide, warm, and delicious love nest, where desire would soon bring the dick, eager of pleasure.
A plot twist soon took me from grace, reminding me in what a weird and dangerous situation I was in. As the last pee drops flowed out of Annalisa's big labia, she took her cell phone, which was placed on a stool, and started a phone call.
A moment later, my poor penis, disappointed and baffled, deflated, disappearing in my groin, terrorized by the events that would soon follow.
- Done, honey... the bird is in "the cage"! Now I'll show you how cute he is.
Was that a video call then?
My ex-wife pointed the phone camera at me; I realized I must have been putting on a miserable show: curled up below the sink, tied like a dog and handcuffed, with my hands behind my back.
I tried kicking, to at least give out a sign of manly disapproval, but Annalisa quickly got up from the toiler and, showing me her back, threw a kick to my chest, stabbing my flesh with her sharp heel.
- No, no, honey, don't be afraid... he's still a "puppy", he needs to learn. – she kept on talking on the phone as if nothing happened – I'm waiting for you; good! Oh, and, sorry love, is it okay if I let my dog dry me? Yes, great! Wait! – she turned her head towards me, and authoritatively said:
- Lick, dog, clean me up deep, don't leave even one drop, understood? – she raised her leg and rested her foot on a stool, her pussy opened wide and I started obeying the order. She changed back her voice, and reprised her corny phone call:
- Yes, here, now he's obeying... he's lapping, yes: do you want to listen, love?
I kept on licking, to avoid being kicked again. It was like a bouquet, a delicious bunch of flowers; she moved, and showed me her back once more, not to hit me though, she did so she could bend over, and offer her holes to my greedy mouth.
From her exciting shoes and stockings, with the edge finishing with thin doodles, the colour of ripe g****s, the toned thighs and the wonderful ass of Annalisa showed; the dark pink flower was slightly opened, like her labia, which were also slightly opened. Completely shaved, recently, the pee drops on her delicate, girly, skin, looked like dew on two large and fleshy petals.
How could I hold back? She kept on talking and stretched her legs further, pushing back, decided, looking for my tongue. I started working, inside and out: she was so tasty... if only I'd known earlier, I would have made her shave back when we were married.
I recognized Annalisa's intimate taste... could she? Could she guess whose tongue it was that was cleaning her pussy, like a painter's brush?
- Stop playing, dog! – she then told me, quickly, as she got back up, as soon as she finished calling. She turned and faced me with a stern look, and continued, pointed her finger at me:
– Be very careful: if you say one word, complain, or don't obey right away, I'll cut your balls. I'm not k**ding, jerk! Understood? – then she left, turning off the light and leaving me terrorized and bowed from her incredible determination.
That uncertainty was tiring me out: I didn't know anything anymore. I didn't know why I was there. And what did Marisa, my current wife, know? What did Annalisa know, and most of all, what was going to happen to me?
What should have been some normal fucking around was starting to look like a thriller movie, and I was frustrated by the sensations that were confusing me: I ranged from being totally aroused, to fear, pain, and chagrin.
The bathroom door was wide open. I could see my ex-wife setting up something, moving around the room, she took off her underwear, but kept her skirt and black balconette bra on. For a few minutes, she ignored me completely.
At one point, I though I heard a muffled sound from the entrance: I was right. Annalisa opened the door, discretely, and a dark shade entered the room. The person who had entered was short, and moved suspiciously: he purposefully kept to the dark. She held his hands, lovingly; being taller than him, she looked like a teacher taking care of her brat. They mumbled something one to the other, I could tell she was comforting him, and trying to put him at ease.
- You don't have to afraid, honey! – she said, with a higher voice, maybe so I could hear. – I trust this doggy, it's mine, it would never betray me. Come now... don't be a c***d.
She was treating that individual with such tenderness, yet, at the same time, with a decisive manner: I was convinced that, even though sweet, she was still subduing him. Her tone must have been quite liberating on the "character", he let himself get dragged by the hand and, once near the bed, he let himself be undressed of the grey, afternoon, suit he was wearing.
I knew Annalisa far too well to not understand that, to her, that was an act... she wasn't that sort of person; Annalisa was barely patient with k**s... figure.
The vague shadow, thanks to the lights from the night stands, started to become clearer. The woman helped him undress; the man, short and round, stayed there, with his chest bared, Annalisa gave him a grey under shirt, a bit weird to be honest, it had thin shoulder straps, and the fabric shined, as if it was satin; basically, it looked like a female top shirt. The man was balding, and had very few hair on his head, pulled back, to hide the baldness; judging by the body, even though it was well trimmed, you could tell he was over sixty.
- What? You haven't changed yet! – Annalisa told him, as he helped him pull his pants off – You know I don't like it when you don't listen to me!
I heard the old man make up some excuses. Pretending to be upset, she took him by one arm, almost pulling him, and threw him on the bed.
- Where did you put the stockings? – she asked, pursuing him. He mumbled something, as she took something knowingly from the coat's pocket, which she had just placed on a hanger next to the bed.
Like a mother, careful but inflexible, Annalisa started to take care of her "big baby", with a stern look. The initial sweetness had been replaced by a certain determination... as if she was worrying about providing a boy with good manners.
From that moment on, the situation plummeted: even though I was starting to understand her game, the confusion about my role increased. Everything became grotesque and senseless when, as Annalisa was helping that little bugger wear silk stockings and a G-string, I was able to catch a glimpse of his face, lit by the night lamp.
I couldn't believe my eyes, several moments went by, as I was trying to convince myself I was definitely wrong. Even though it looked absurd, and hallucinating, that elder man, who my ex-wife was now handling like a timid and prudish girl, was exactly who he seemed. An extremely renowned politician, a real VIP... one of those people who are always on the news; with real power, so much power to arouse a primal awe.
I shook, even though I was tied; Annalisa understood my fears, and to put on a show, she approached me and threw another well placed kick between my ribs, this time with the tip of her lacquered shoes.
Once more, my wife was acting; she had acted like that to reassure her "baby boy", or better, her "baby girl". The man, who was probably now aroused by all that ritual, had become extremely feminine, and was sitting on the bed, dressed like a whore, with his short legs closed tight: a boarder girl from a bad film.
- Our doggy is tired of staying in the bathroom, what do you think, honey, can we untie him? – she asked, and the man approved, keeping his head low.
I was freed, and brought, on four legs, to the couch, where I was allowed to sit; Annalisa took my handcuffs off:
- Stay here, be good... and don't make me regret freeing you: okay? – without letting me reply, she tied the grip of the leash to one of the feet of the couch, and then lost interest in me once more.
Mckenna
- 09.08.2021
- 11
- 0
