Priceless
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Priceless free porn video
Priceless
by Velvetglove
?Put my dick into your wife’s mouth.?
He leaned nearer and his trembling fingers guided my throbbing shaft into the perfect ‘o’ formed by her lipstick covered lips. Ever so slowly I eased my hips forwards, sliding my full length over her tongue and into the back of her throat. I watched her eyebrows scrunch together as she gagged.
I glanced at the twin screen monitors. There were two cameras: a fixed one on a tripod that recorded a mid-shot including her face and torso with my dick and stomach; plus a roving one that was hand held by her husband. On the monitors I could check each feed and later I’d cut and edit them to my satisfaction.
Her lips made a glugging sound, one of those accidental ‘mmhhs’ as she suckled too hard. I laced my fingers in her peroxide blonde locks, yo-yoing her head to my satisfaction. I twisted her face so she was full on to the fixed camera, removing any last chance of anonymity.
Her husband had zoomed in so her mouth filled the monitor, with my voracious weapon pumping in and out, in-out, like a greasy piston. His own expression was hard to read. How did he feel spending Christmas Day watching his wife blowing another man ? Above the camera, his forehead glistened with sweat and his hand shook occasionally, making the filming more real. He was naked except for the brand new steel chastity tube round his dick. My Christmas present to him ! I looked back down at his missus.
She was not really my taste but I couldn’t deny she was pretty, in a bottled blonde, overly made-up kind of way. I’ve found out that there’s a certain type of woman who needs mastering by a man other than their husband. Attractive but insecure, the sort who was a bit promiscuous when young, who then marries an accountant because he can make her respectable. After a while she allows her looks to slip, maybe puts on a few pounds, and then makes it worse by dressing provocatively, striving for her past youth.
She was 33. Long platinum hair, hazel eyes, with a hint of crow’s feet from too much sunbathing, good teeth, big breasts, a bum and thighs that could do with a strict exercise regime. Sexually, she was a well used canvas but with plenty of blank areas. You know the kind. For example, she thought herself above blowjobs; maybe a moment of sucking as foreplay but she’d imagined her cunt was so damn tight her boyfriends couldn’t wait to get in there. And she reminded me of that joke about why a woman smiles so much as she walks up the aisle after her wedding. She’s grinning because she’s nailed her man and now thinks she’ll never have to give another BJ in her life.
Well, suck on that lady. In, out. In, out. I could feel myself reaching the point of no return. Time for first course of your Christmas feast. For the benefit of our future viewers, I did the usual and pulled out, leaving her mouth gaping like a decked fish.
?Keep your tongue stuck out and finish me off with your hands.?
I checked the monitors. Perfect. I’d saved up 48 hours and eaten right for this moment. Her face was tilted at forty five degrees, her wedding ring was in the shot, my dick was only an inch from her pink tongue.
Kaboom ! The first rope splattered her eye socket and the ridge of her nose. After that, they came thick and fast; mouth, nostril, forehead, hair, mouth again, lips, chin, the other nostril, painting her face with my chunky, pearly white goo. It was immense, if I say so myself.
There was a silence for about twenty seconds as we each digested the moment; I came down slowly from my orgasm, while she blinked and cringed and held her head immobile, wondering what to do. Her husband kept filming, panning the lens across her features, I suspect mainly to occupy his mind, anything rather than dwell upon what had just happened.
?Let’s see you kiss your wife clean now.?
I took the camera from him and smiled to myself as I watched him tentatively slurping up my jizz from her skin. Already her mascara and blush was running and there was even a smudge in her waterproof lipstick. I focused on his face too, making sure the viewers got a decent close up, sufficient for anybody who knew him to identify who he was.
I ate my Christmas meal sat on my own at the head of their dining table. He was locked in a hogtie inside the cupboard under their staircase. Nothing to eat or drink for him until much later. That was the deal. His wife cooked, served and washed the pans while I ate. I had a full second helping but could only finish the turkey and potatoes. I left a decent amount of vegetables, gravy and bits of turkey leg.
?Here.?
I watched her eat my leftovers with a spoon while I sipped the nice wine they’d bought me. She was dressed in a black PVC maid’s outfit that was my Christmas present to her. It was the sort you see advertised in cheap magazines; a shiny bra, a mini-skirt, fishnets and one of those silly white caps that Victorian servants wore on their heads. I’d used their joint Mastercard to pay for his chastity kit and her dressing up gear.
And the Big John Dong Vibe.
After she’d washed up, I had her mount her own sturdy dining table and prepare to give a show for the audience. The vibrating black dildo was a nice 8 ? inches in length and she sucked it into her mouth to moisten it. She’d reapplied the bright red lipstick and the colour contrast between the white of her teeth, the black rubber and her scarlet lips looked great on the monitor.
?Okay, doll. Let’s see you slide that baby into your pussy.?
She was naked under the mini. And hairless. I don’t like a chick whose collar and cuffs don’t match and she had platinum tresses with a dark brazilian below. A bit of foam, a couple of swipes, and now she was bald. She grimaced as Big John’s fat crown pushed open her pouting labia.
?Hurry up. Don’t tease us.?
I smiled encouragingly. While the fixed camera on the tripod recorded her slowly penetrating herself, I used the handheld to wander round the room, filming incriminating evidence; photographs in silver frames, their cars parked outside through the window, a zoom to both number plates, and on the hall table outside the dining room, a couple of unopened envelopes with their names and address on.
When I returned, she had got all of Big John inside her. Her mouth was hanging half open, her eyes half shut, and she was squinting at me, awaiting instructions.
?Turn it on.?
There was a buzzing sound and she gasped. Her breath exploding in a surprised ‘ssss’. Believe it or not, this was her first experience with a vibrator. Fingers, yes, a candle once in her teens she said, but never the joy of a toy until now.
?Full speed. And move it fast, in and out.?
The most popular clips on YouPorn are usually under 3 minutes. Voyeurs don’t want long build ups. They want to cut to the chase. The money shot, the orgasm, the squirt, whatever. I could always edit it but it’s nice to be able to post a single stream video scene from start to finish.
?Hurry.?
She was whimpering now, hazel eyes bugging, lips tight in a snarl of sexual need. She was squatting on her nice mahogany table, thighs open and knees akimbo, fisting the plastic vibe in and out of her hairless snatch. I watched her labia gripping and releasing the black dong and idly imagined what she’d be like in the weeks to come when a real black dick or two was filling her. I like to be generous with my good fortune.
She squealed and looked at me. Right into the lens. Oh boy. That would make a great still. You could see right inside her soul. Who she really was. A horny housewife who’d kind of lost her way; wanting, needing.
?Okay. Cum.?
Her head went back, eyes closed, lips opening wide. She buried the dong as far inside her as it would go, then scythed it outwards slowly, as if she was exorcising her clitoris. Then she wailed like a banshee.
I got it all on film; the fixed mid-shot and the roving close up. She’d be shocked when she saw the clip. I find people are genuinely surprised by what they look like when having an orgasm. Embarrassed. The facial expressions alone only tell part of the story. It’s the whole thing; face, body, secretions, above all the abject loss of self control.
She looked at me sheepishly and started to climb down from the table.
?No. Stay there. Let’s carry straight on with the ass shot.?
For the first time since I’d arrived, she clearly wanted to say no. Until then, it had all been her fantasy too, as much as his, or mine. I watched her lip tremble, her jaw set tight, throat tense. Her doe eyes sought mine in a silent plea.
But that was the reason for the blackmail. The film was worth more than money to them. Way more. I could put any price on it I liked. Even a sore anus.
?Pl ??
She started to speak but that was forbidden. I snapped a finger to my lips.
?It’s that one.? I said, arms folded. ?Or a bigger one.?
I watched her turn onto all fours. She drooled spittle onto the already shining dong and twisted her body so she could place the crown at the entrance to her anus. She glanced pleadingly at me one last time.
?Wait.? I knelt down close so that I could get a great shot. ?Okay, go.?
She was an anal virgin. I knew her claim was genuine because she’d asked for anal to be ‘off limits’. I mean, come on. Anal ? I don’t do off limits but if I did, they’d be far north of a bit of butt fucking. And you know what ? She wanted it. She could have found some other guy who would have respected her wish and just done the silken ropes and candlelit cunnilingus, or whatever she thought she fancied initially. But she chose me, regardless.
?You’ve got thirty seconds.?
She grunted, pushed, moaned and shoved. I love virgin asses. They’re so ? puckered. There are actually two anal sphincter muscles that control the exit and entrance of items from/to the anus; the inner sphincter is entirely controlled by our bodies, but the outer is basically controlled by our minds. When we sit on the toilet, we relax it to take a dump. But if, say, we need to go but can’t find a toilet, we contract it tighter so as not to have an accident. This is what we call ‘bowel control’ that we learn as babies.
It’s similar with anal sex. You have to learn to control the natural reflex not to allow something up there. I watched closely as her outer sphincter unwillingly accepted her mind’s instructions and loosened sufficiently for the big black vibe to form a bridgehead. The fixed camera was filming her butt so I went round and focused on her facial expressions.
She was making extraordinary faces. Different from when she was climaxing. Similar contortions but of pain, not pleasure. I looked into her eyes but she kept screwing them shut, snorting through her nose. A drool of spittle hung from her chin. Fortunately for her, the initial penetration is the worst bit. Once the sphincter has given up the fight, any reasonably sized and lubricated object slides in without causing too much physical stress. It’s the mental image that distresses people. The picture they have of four, five, six, seven inches plunged through their back door.
?Here, let me help you.?
I walked round the table and switched the vibe on for her, listening to its hum. I was careful to keep my own face out of the shot.
?Okay, doll. Let’s give your fans a real show this time.?
It took over 7 minutes but I could edit it down. She finally came again, on her knees with her face smeared against the table, one hand behind her stabbing the vibe to and fro in her loosened ass, and the other fingering her swollen clit from underneath. Her climax was, quite simply, overwhelming.
If the first couple of scenes were useful material, the last was dynamite. I could hear the ker-ching of tills ringing. Metaphorically of course. Partly because tills don’t sound like that today but mainly because I wasn’t after their money. Sure I’d help myself to a treat or two, because they had enough. However, it was another form of payment I was interested in.
I smiled kindly at her and chucked her chin with my finger. Her hazel eyes had glazed over, unfocused, as she knelt back up on her hands and knees.
?Just one more thing for this afternoon.? I whispered encouragingly.
I unzipped myself and she let out a small sigh. Her lips parted and it was evident she thought I fancied another blowjob. Er, not yet. I’d had plenty of wine but I’d also eaten cabbage at lunch and I just love what it does to your urine. Yes, asparagus is best, but cabbage is a close runner up. I set up the cameras to film the event from two different angles.
She shook her head when she realised what I wanted.
?Don’t be silly. This is nothing. Now, open wide. Unless you’d like to see yourself starring on the internet as a Christmas treat for everybody ??
I studied her. There’s a fine line to draw with sexual blackmail. I think that was the first moment that she truly realised what they’d done. Fantasy had become reality. Her fate was in my hands. Could she trust me ?
?Come on.? I said. ?It could be worse. Believe me. Lie face down.?
She slowly bowed her head in defeat. She was on the dining table and she simply slumped down, sliding her arms and legs to her sides. Her mouth was now the perfect height. I grinned and fished my dick out my pants.
?Mmm ?.?
I just rested the tip on her lower lip and sighed as my jet started flowing. A piss when you really need one is still one of the best feelings in the world. I caught the vegetable tang of the cabbage and smiled inwardly. My hot, bitter fluid was going down her throat. Her eyes bugged in alarm and she gulped, causing an overflow of piss to bubble up over her lips and down her chin. I gripped my dick and managed to stop myself mid-flow.
?Don’t waste any, doll. Swallow. Don’t worry. We’ll have loads of practice at this.?
She glanced up, a queasy expression on her face, but she held her lips open again. I smiled into her eyes. And I got a spark back. Defiance ? Acceptance ? Lust ? Hatred ? Maybe a bit of all those things. I relaxed my control again, and settled into a nice steady pissing rhythm, imagining how her tongue, taste buds and throat were enjoying their new role as my toilet. Towards the end I pulled back a touch and hosed her open mouth and face with what remained in my bladder.
The cameras caught it all again, of course. Her profile and my dick. From reluctant start to messy finish. Drops of piss fell from her chin and strands of her hair hung straggly and soaked. There was a small puddle on her precious dining table. Priceless.
Later, after I’d enjoyed a leisurely fuck with her in their marital bed, and then released her husband to eat his cold Christmas meal, I packed my bags; two cameras, one tripod and over 90 minutes of digital action. My relatives were expecting me for an evening of Christmas games and ham sandwiches in less than an hour’s time.
?I’m free on December 29th.? I said. ?You can expect me about seven.?
They exchanged glances. No negotiation, no checking diaries, no questions. This was how it was to be from now on. He dry swallowed. She looked at me, then down at the floor. Although she didn’t say the word aloud, it was a ‘yes’. And I knew that when you have the woman, you have the couple.
He nodded. I smiled. She exhaled and then her lips curled in a small crooked grin. The tension eased. One heck of a Christmas Day.
I kissed her full on her warm mouth and shook his hand. He turned his head to look meaningfully down at his waist, at the still locked chastity device.
I glanced at her and then tilted my head from side to side, like I was weighing up the arguments. The key was in a zip pocket of my bag.
?The twenty ninth is only four days away. You can wait that long.?
He gasped in disappointment. But I could see something else too. Something outside of his control. He wanted this. Just like she had. The full treatment. Beyond comfort zones. Something money couldn’t buy.
?Goodbye.? I called out, as I placed my bag on the rear seats of my car.
They stood there in the doorway like a happy couple in a TV commercial; their breath clouding in the dark chill air, yellow lights bright in the windows, standing side-by-side, giving me tentative waves.
As I climbed into my car, I was minded of a tagline from a credit card ad. I chuckled.
There are some things in life money can buy.
For everything else, there’s your Master.
The End
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