Cuckold fantasy scene
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Cuckold Maid Scene free porn video
Cuckold Maid Scene by Throne
I was in the Maid's Room. Actually it's my bedroom, since my wife no
longer allows me to sleep in her bed. The space I'm in now is smaller
and dominated by a four-poster bed, juvenile model, done in pink and
white frills. Around the room are examples of the maid uniforms that
Kiley makes me wear. Once she discovered my crossdressing tendencies it
was all downhill, until I reached this point. I was naked, having just
applied scented emollients to my smooth hairless body, when she rang her
little silver bell, summoning me to the main bedroom next door.
Hurriedly, I donned what she had laid out for me on the bed. There was a
maid uniform top, dark pink with white trim, that ended at the waist. A
garter belt and shiny stockings, both in white. And black shoes with
square toes and chunky heels. But where was the skirt? Or at least
panties? Was I expected to appear like that, with my chastity device on
display? And it was Saturday night, so what if her lover Mike was still
there? It was bad enough every time he saw me and got his usual good
laugh at my foolish sissy appearance. But if he got a look at me with no
panties, my pink tube exposed, soft bottom uncovered, it might drive me
to tears of shame.
Nevertheless, I had no choice. I checked my face in the vanity table
mirror. My hair is only a bit longer and fuller than what a guy with an
office job might have, except that it has been styled to look more girly
and I have to use products to give it added fullness. Because I never
know when I might be called, I have to keep my make-up the way Kiley
prefers it: blue eye shadow, rouged cheeks, pale red lipstick. At the
last second I realized that I had neglected to put on the frilly little
cap she had left for me. I put it in place and made sure it was
straight. Still wishing that I could cover myself better, I left my room
and headed for hers.
Knocking lightly, I said in a meek voice, "Maid, Ma'am."
My wife said, "Come."
I took a breath and entered. To my dismay, she was in her large bed with
Mike alongside her. They had left the sheets thrown back --
intentionally? -- so that I could see her desirable body, pale and so
delightfully rounded, and his form, muscular and graced with an enviably
above average appendage. I mentally compared what he had between his
powerful legs with what I possessed between my slender ones. It was so
mortifying. They ignored me for a moment while they turned their faces
toward each other and shared a lingering kiss. Mike's large hand went to
Kiley's full breast and caressed it softly. She moaned in pleasurable
response and rolled onto her side, pressing up against him. Her fingers
found his cock and lightly manipulated it.
As if noticing me for the first time, and without stopping what she was
doing, my bride said, "Maid, there's a new fan on the dresser. Use it to
cool us."
I found the fan, a large one made of woven reeds of some sort, and got my
fingers around its thick handle. I moved closer to slowly wave it in
their direction, creating tiny eddies of air to make them more
comfortable. Kiley got on top of Mike, rubbing herself lasciviously
against his manly form. When she got off, his cock was standing up, hard
and proud. I bit my lips and managed not to whimper from envy over what
he had, and jealousy that he was with my wife. She lay back, taking his
member in hand again, unhurriedly stroking it.
"Mmmm," she said. "That's something I love about you, Mike darling.
Besides the fact that your cock is a monster, it stays hard so long. I
remember when my husband Ronny was still here. If I did this to him he'd
be finished already. Nothing but a three-stroke joke." She laughed.
"And so tiny that it wasn't funny."
Well, I couldn't have argued with either of those charges. My wife had
enjoyed letting me get into the missionary position but then stopping me
once I had the tip of my penis against her warm moistness. She had no
interest in having me inside her because my erections were less than five
inches, and slim as well. Once she had me making that limited contact
with her, she would amuse herself by toying with my nipples. She thought
it was funny to tell me that they were sensitive like a girl's. I would
squirm and make tortured sounds of failing self-control and, when she
started moving her hips to add to my arousal, I would shoot off long
before I wanted to.
To me she said, "You remember Ronny, don't you Rona? The problem he had
with premature squirting, getting it all over my pussy?"
"Yes, Ma'am," I answered, all shame-faced. It was so awful to have to
refer to my male self as someone who was gone and just a memory.
"And I seem to forget," she went on, "what was it Ronny had to do after
he lost control of his little winker?"
"He..." I hated having to confess this, especially in front of Mike,
even though both of them had heard me make the admission before. "...
had to use his mouth to clean up the mess. And while he was down there
he had to keep going until he provided you with an orgasm, which he could
never do with his inadequate penis."
"That's right. He was such a failure in bed. Would have been better off
as a sissy, don't you think?"
I lowered my eyes and admitted, "Yes, Ma'am."
"Now, Rona," Mike said, "what do you think of this. Would a natural-born
sissy like Ronny... one who never had any chance of making it as an
authentic man... and who was all ready lapping up his own spunk... would
he be suited to lick up a big messy load from his wife's pussy if it was
put there by someone else... by a proper man?"
Feeling sick, I said, "Sir?"
"Well, I know Ronny considered himself straight. And lapping up another
man's spunk out of your wife's body, putting your tongue where that man's
cock had just been, might seem kind of faggy. Sort of like letting
yourself become a cocksucker-by-one-degree-of-separation. Still, if a
guy is a genetic sissy anyway, a Beta by birth, wouldn't it make sense
for him to do that?"
"I (choke) guess so (gag), Sir."
"Well, thanks for your input, Rona. You just keep fanning while I give
my woman here some of the kind of input SHE loves."
Kiley giggled at his wordplay. She parted her thighs invitingly. Mike
mounted her with skill, entered with finesse, and demonstrated that,
along with his superior endowment and staying power, he also had endless
technique. She writhed under him, sighed and purred, encouraged him, and
praised him.
She whispered, "You're incredible, Mike. If Ronny was still around, I'd
have to tell him that he's out of the game. There would be no chance for
him ever to be inside me again. What would be the point, after I've had
you? I'd just start laughing at him and he'd probably lose his miniature
stiffy."
After that there were no more words. I had to stay there, hearing them
all, watching it all, smelling her perfume, her hair, and their
perspiration. At last their marathon sex session was over, nearly an
hour after it had started. They separated to lay there alongside one
another. His thick cream overfilled her and glistened on her shaved
mound. They stayed like that for an additional half hour while I
continued to gently fan them, humiliation digging deep into my damaged
male ego and distracting me until Kiley suddenly looked up, her eyes
going wide.
In an overly theatrical display of being shocked, she gasped, "Wait.
Rona? Or is that really you, Ronny?"
This was something new in her wicked bedroom games. In a soft voice I
said, "Yes."
"So you've been posing as my maid ever since you vanished as my husband.
Oh my. Swishing around the house, mincing from room to room, dusting
here and tidying up there. I even trusted you to hand wash my most
intimate lingerie. I'll bet you were sniffing my panties."
Of course I had been. But that was because she made me do it. And then
pretended to catch me. And spanked me as punishment. Even threatened to
have Mike swat my fanny good and hard. I was so confused by her mind
games.
"Well," she went on, "I suppose you started posing as Rona just so you
could continue to dress up all pretty, the way you crave." She sighed.
"I don't know what to do about this."
"You know," Mike said. "There is one good thing about it. Now that
Ronny's back, we can find out if what we were speculating about is true.
If he would lower himself to slurp up all that protein I pumped inside
you. And get his sissy tongue where I just had my tool. And make lots
of yummy sounds while he did it. I mean, we could finally know if he's
really such a total pervert that he would do even that."
I felt nauseated. Were they honestly going to push me that far? My wife
gave me the answer when she aimed a forefinger at me, then held up one
hand to flick her tongue between two parted fingers, and finally pointed
to the juncture of her attractive legs. It was a simple message. You
get your tongue busy down there. I sniffled but moved onto the foot of
the bed. With both of them grinning maliciously at me, I moved closer to
my target.
Mike said, "I don't think he'll do it. No guy could sink that low. No
man could scoop up another man's cream from his own wife's pussy, and
then eat it."
"At the same time," Kiley reminded, "while making sounds that showed how
much he enjoyed it."
My mouth fastened over her oozing slit so that nothing would be lost and
my tongue went to work. It was something I'd never done before,
something I'd never believed they would add to my long list of
degradations, but it was happening. I swallowed and tried not to start
sobbing. Then I remembered the other part of their sadistic script. I
began to make sounds of pleasure, deep in my throat, as if I was
consuming some exotic dessert instead of this repugnant feeding. I kept
at it and turned my eyes up to look over the slight rise of Miley's tummy
and see her and Mike with their lips locked together. He was fingering
her nipple. She began to writhe in slow motion from the combined effects
of my licking and his lovemaking.
I realized that my wife was mounting toward an orgasm. From long
practice I focused my efforts on getting her there. At the same time I
found what seemed like an endless supply of her lover's semen. After I
had lapped and swallowed and sucked avidly for a while longer, still
making those noises to indicate that I was thrilled to be doing clean-up
duty, she bucked her hips, cried out, and had a quaking climax. I took
her through a long afterglow until she eventually settled down.
Mike told me to get up and resume fanning them, but to move further away,
as he didn't want her to get a chill after all she'd just been through.
I resumed my lowly station, working the fan up and down, watching them
snuggle up together.
"You know," Mike mused, "it's a shame Ronny is gone again. I mean, it's
good that we finally got our question answered and found out what a total
freak he can be. But that got me thinking about something else."
She nuzzled his neck and asked sleepily, "What's that, handsome?"
I waited fearfully for his though. In my humiliating maid outfit, so
feminine and embarrassing, with my chastity tube exposed. Again I was
aware of how uncovered my hairless pubes were, and what a spectacle the
costume made of my pink-sheathed penis. My feet shifted nervously. My
calves were a bit strained from wearing the heels, though I wore them so
often now that I was getting more and more acclimated to them. I
wriggled my bottom in worried anticipation of what he was about to say.
"What I've been wonder was, if Ronny were here again, and we'd just had
sex again, and he's so submissive that he'd clean my mess out of your
pussy and relish doing it... would he also want to clean my cock the same
way?"
"Mmm," she said with dreamy curiosity. "That would certainly be
interesting to find out... if Ronny showed up again."
********
(Another of my 'scenes'. Self contained and not intended to be
continued. I'm having fun turning these ideas into finished stories,
short but I hope with a lot of impact. What do you think?)
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