Melvin a Whateley Tale Part 3
- 2 years ago
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I Look Like What ... - Part Six free porn video
I Look Like What ... - Part Six
I scurried about fluffing pillows. I was always scurrying, primping,
fussing, dusting, arranging, decorating, dressing. Getting ready for
guests. Setting the table. Chilling the martinis. Making sure dinner
was ready. When Raoul got home, I had to be ready. Or else.
I went to the front door and waited. He had just called and would be
pulling up the driveway in seconds. I took a look at myself in the huge
portrait mirror. I was in one of my greeting costumes. I was laced
into a black latex corset that pushed my breasts high on my chest but
left most of them bare. There were black over-the-knee leggings, also
latex, and too-tall pumps. A silly little apron. A flouncy, lacy cap.
I was the perfect kink stereotype - the latex French maid.
Raoul swept in, his latest chippy in tow behind him. She was young,
leggy and blonde. Not like me. I'm all curves and boobs and ass and
wild dark hair. Typical Raoul. I stood on tip toe - not much of a task
in six inch heels - and gave him a kiss. And then turned to our guest
to curtsey.
They retreated to the patio and I hurried out the drinks. Raoul's hand
was up her skirt. He took the martini I handed him with the other. She
had her eyes closed, lost in sensation. Little slut. Simpering, I bent
forward and lifted her skirt. A vagina. At least Raoul was keeping his
word. He had never promised to be faithful, only that he would never be
with another special lover. One like me. Only me. He saved anal for
me, and never with a real girl. And I was his only special girl.
When I came back later with dessert, Raoul had her bent over the table,
taking her from behind. I took out the squeeze bottle of lube and
dribbled a little on his hard penis. The action became smoother as
Raoul could enter her more easily. My tongue flicked her clitoris
bringing on a fast orgasm. Then I kissed her so that she could taste
herself, and I went back to her vagina. When I minced back to the
kitchen, the little toy was incoherent from a series of mind-shattering
orgasms. It was if she had had a stroke. Raoul was still rock hard.
The Viagra still had time before it ran its course. His big hands
caught me by the waist and turned me around to face his companion. I
was pushed forward and Raoul penetrated me to the hilt in one thrust. I
leaned forward to lick, catching the milky sperm oozing from the vagina
in front of me. Just another typical day at the Avaro house.
Soon after we were married, Raoul sat me down and explained how things
were going to be. I was going to be the good little wifey. He would be
free to have sex with other women, and I would be expected to watch and
participate. He explained what a cuckold is. Usually it's a man but I
would become a cuckold too. I would actively entertain Raoul's
girlfriends. Take messages for Raoul from them. Make dinner for them.
Let them use me if they wanted. Raoul had regulars but there were
always new ones, and one night stands. I kept track of them for him,
remembering their birthdays and picking up presents for Raoul to give
them. I told myself that it was okay. Raoul liked to fool around with
real girls but he loved me. Because I was special. That didn't keep
Raoul from continuing my training in submission and humiliation.
Yesterday, he decided that I was getting to big for my britches. He
left me at the dollar discount mall - everything is really cheap there -
with a shopping list. The girdle was a size too small but I got into
it. So was the bra, which was also heavily wired. It was hard to find
a dress. Nothing fit my jutting figure. I found a mid-calf black wool
skirt that I could get over my hips. The waist was tight but I could
button it. Then there was a hot pink angora sweater, sleeveless and
very small. My breasts stretched the weave so far you could see the
color of my bra clearly. A wide, shiny PVC belt with a big buckle -
cheap and it looked it. Bracelets, anklets, clunky necklaces, big
hoops, all in fake silver. High heels of course. And last but not
least, cheap cologne.
Raoul called me on my cell. I was standing at the corner waiting for
him to pick me up. Go buy a soda and drink it. I did, and another and
then another when he told me too. Embarrassed at how I was dressed,
increasingly frantic as my need for a bathroom mounted, Raoul called.
Go down the alley and squat over the grate. I could relieve myself
there. As I was letting go, the cell rang. Raoul told me to smile and
wave at the video camera.
The humiliations were endless but I was used to them. He was my husband
and he loved me because I was special. Spring had arrived and I was
shopping for some new things. I looked out the window of the shop to
see Raoul passing by, on his arm another tall, lanky, blonde young
thing. Something made me follow them. The hair on the back of my neck
went up. What was wrong? Raoul pushed her back against a wall. His
hand went under her skirt. The girl was shocked, resisting, not the way
the other girls all had been. Raoul was being rough; he tore at her
panties, ripping them. And I could see - it was a boy.
I didn't know how to move. I don't think I took a breath. They trashed
and struggled but I was still as a statute. I was crying and twitching
but I couldn't move. Raoul was mounting the boy and there was a stick
on the ground. Someone picked it up and hit Raoul from behind. His
head split open and blood flew. I think I was screaming but I'm not
sure. Raoul's head got hit again and he fell to the ground, not moving.
People were staring and a policeman took the stick away. I sat in the
back of the car like they told me too. Later, they sent me to a
terrible place where they lock you up and give you drugs. But nothing
can make you forget.
Libbie
- 07.04.2020
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