Mme Moreau
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An Imposition No More free porn video
AN IMPOSITION NO MORE
Sleazy Blonde, 2021
He was relentless. "Could you please, just once? Please?" he would ask.
"Could you please knock it off?" I would reply. But ask and ask again
he did. He kept asking. And asking and asking. I was getting at my
wit's end.
After, hmm, I'd say about three months of his nagging, but it might
have been four and, yes, it was in fact nagging (don't tell me that men
can't nag too), I finally flared: "Why do you want me to do this?" My
voice was loud. My exasperation was plain. My contempt was visible.
"It'll make me feel good. They say it's allows the best and deepest
orgasm ever," he answered, the embarrassment and the longing evident on
his scrunched up, pathetic face.
That selfish shit: me, me, me, me, me. Always about him. Always about
his pleasure, his desires, his wants. I thoroughly believed that he
also saw his desire as somehow degrading me. I was inclined to agree
with him.
No right-thinking wife wants to put her finger up her husband's ass and
rub his prostate until he comes. My finger up there. It's dirty. It's
filthy. And what if he farts? Or has an involuntary... deposit? On my
finger! What of the filth that will accumulate under my fingernail? The
smell? All the while he lays on his stomach, relaxing, as I am supposed
to slowly stroke his cock!
What's in it for me?
"You're a pathetic man," I snapped at him.
"Your pathetic man," he cheerily replied.
I rolled my eyes, told him that I'd think about if he would shut up
about it, and stormed off to the bedroom. I slammed the door.
A few days later, I told him that we could try it; "Once and only once,
and when I say, where I say. But you have to give yourself two enemas
first. And no cameras. And no jokes about it later. And you can't say
this about..."; I had a long list of conditions that he merrily
accepted.
I chose Saturday night at 9 o'clock. Not because that was some sexy,
magical time. No: rather because it was the first available time to
plausibly get this done and over with, hopefully, once and that's it.
He lunged onto the bed and lay on his chest. He spread his legs. He put
his hands under the pillow on which he rested his head.
That smile. That fucking smug smile of his. I'll never forget it.
I basically did as he had described and requested. I knelt between his
spread legs. I began rubbing his lower back and cheeks and upper things
with a fragrant oil. I alternated between soft, tender caressing and
firmer, tougher massaging. His skin warmed to my touch. My fingers slid
into his cleft and slid out.
"Tease me," he had asked. I did because he said it would increase the
pleasure of the moment.
I took his cock in my left hand and slowly stroked it. It firmed up
quickly. I thought him an idiot: his cock is looking down parallel to
his leg; it's got to be in a bending pain. With my right hand I slowly
squeezed and palmed his balls. Then I crept up to that sensitive spot
between the balls and his asshole. I alternated rubbing with the tip of
a finger and rubbing it with the edge of a long fingernail: pain and
pleasure, I suppose.
"More," he said. I knew what he meant. I knew what he now wanted. He
couldn't see me shake my head in disgust at this, yet another 'this',
horrific thing that would have me do for him.
I grabbed some more lube and rubbed his hole.
I grabbed some more lube and fingered his hole.
I grabbed some more lube and penetrated his hole.
Yes, my finger slid in and out easily. Yes, I felt the tenderness of
his interior. Yes, I saw his body began to match its rolling cadence to
that of my sliding finger. Yes, I heard him moan in bliss. Yes, I felt
the rigidity of his cock.
Is that what my life has come to? I'm stroking his dick with one hand,
pressing and caressing his prostate --- in his fucking asshole --- with
my other hand, and I'm watching the fucker squirm like a worm in heat.
I was getting mad. I stroked his cock harder. Faster. "Is this what you
want, my little cock?"
I pressed harder on his walnut. I inserted another finger in his hole.
I pressed harder yet again. "You want me to finger your ass, don't
you?" I hissed at him.
"Yes!" he pleaded in growing ecstasy. He was getting into this. Really
getting into this!
It came to me in a flash. And, in a flash, I decided that I wanted
something else. His bizarre requests could empower me.
Me!
I let go of his cock and roughly pulled my fingers out of his ass.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Want do you want, my little precious? Tell Mistress what you want?"
He lifted his head slightly off the pillow. In the darkened twilight of
the room, I don't know whether he could see my sneer. But I could see
his face, its uncertainty, its hesitation.
"Speak, precious. Beg Mistress." As I contemptuously said these words,
I started to squeeze his cock and finger his hole slowly, teasingly. I
stopped. "Beg."
"Please rub my prostate and my cock."
"Please who?"
"Mistress, please rub my prostate and my cock!"
I rubbed him faster. "Louder! Faster! Beg me louder and faster! Say
it!"
And he did. And I stroked and rubbed harder and harder and faster and
faster. The fucker was begging so loudly when I put him over the top
that the neighborhood could hear his pathetic cries.
I was tremendously impressed with the volume of cum that he produced.
It shot down his leg, onto the bedding; some even soared down to his
foot. I caught some on my knee. I felt his prostate clinch and release,
clinch and release, as he came. By that time, I had my entire fist up
his ass.
His breathing slowed. His body stopped shaking. He relaxed.
So did I. "Did you like that, baby?" I caringly asked.
He quickly nodded, a broad smile on his face.
I shoved my fist deeper into his ass and dug my fingernails into his
soft balls.
"What!" I hissed at him.
"Yes, Mistress," he instantly answered.
"Better, my love. You'll learn." I pulled my fist out of his ass. I let
go of his scrotum. I slowly stood up.
"Jeremy, look at me. Now," I commanded.
He swiveled his head.
"If you ever want another orgasm like that one, then do as I say. Clean
all this up. Change the sheets. Wash yourself inside and out. Bring me
a glass of Pinot; downstairs, 15 minutes. Do you understand?"
He nodded.
"Jeremy, do you understand?" My tone was harsher this time.
"Yes, Mistress," he quietly said.
"Be a good boy and you'll get lots more orgasms like that one," I said
without attaching any importance to the idea. And I walked off to the
bathroom to wash my hands.
"And wear a pair of my panties all day."
"Yes, Mistress."
I can see an opportunity when one presents itself.
His kinky requests and desires would no longer place an imposition upon
me.
finito
Maddy
- 21.02.2021
- 7
- 0
