Dear Cum - The 'Not Very Spectacular' Wife Lovers Omnium Spectacular (Part Four) free porn video
I think we can all heave a huge and much-needed sigh of relief at the knowledge that we've all nearly reached the end and there isn't much more of this shit. So, splash yourself out a glass of pink poison, give it a little swirl in the glass so it refracts the light, and then chuck it down your throat not letting it touch the sides on its way down. Just consider it a medicinal necessity. And with that, let's go 'to the letter'.
Dear Crumbs in the bed Girl,
I am fucking a "hot wife" almost every other night while her husband watches. I usually enjoy this sort of arrangement, but this particular husband insists on giving me orders like a drill sergeant every second of the encounter. It's really starting to affect my performance.
How do I get him to just sit down, shut off, and jerk off while I give his wife the orgasm of her life?
Thanks!
Stud Walling
Dear Stud,
Excuse me for being pedantic but you are a bloke aren't you? And by bloke I mean a proper blokey bloke and not some wishy-washy Bohemian type with a frilled shirt and shoulder-length hair or some god-awful piece of hippy shit. Because, if you are a bloke then what could be simpler than following instructions?
Now, I've known a lot of men-folk, and intend to get to know quite a few more. Whilst I wouldn't use the words inspirational or creative to describe any of them, the one thing you can guarantee is that give them a nice bit of flat-pack furniture or some fiddly bits of plastic and some glue, all accompanied by endless pages of non-sensical instructions and they are happier than pigs rolling in shit.
As a wife of some experience with several of the rides available on the used car lot, I have spent innumerable years training each and every one of my spouses in their bedroom duties. I do not make such an investment in their general education out of the goodness of my heart. No. I do it so that they have a clear understanding of their role and responsibilities. Specifically, for them to provide the exact sexual pleasuring I require delivered within the manner and time frame I have decreed. The last thing any wife wants is their chosen hubby getting all creative in the bedrooming department.
Now if I'm enjoying myself in a series of marital clichés; his mouth feasting upon my cherry-bite nipples, my finger wiggling in his tight anal star, a vibe pulsing yummily within my sloppy near-orgasmic snatch, the last thing I want is him getting all 'inspired' and sticking dowel F into hole W. If I want dowel F in Hole W, I'll tell him, but I don't. I want Lips A pursed tightly about Clit B with just a little gentle nibbling from Teeth C coupled with sporadic lashings of Tongue D through the soaking morass of Cunt E. Then as my pleasure starts to rise, he can extend Hand F to find either Nipple G or Nipple H, whereupon he can engage in some light frotage, teasing and tweaking. Tongue D can now commence its assault on Clit B with firm flicks interspersed with more extended upward licks from perineum I through Cunt E and back to flicking at Clit B. Fingers J and K on Hand L can now be inserted into Anus M and commence rampant fucking of Canal N with their tips rubbing up against the vibe buried in Cunt E. At this point, Hips O will start bucking wildly and Thighs P and Q will squeeze tight about his face. Hand R will grab Hair S, keeping him fixed in position as I grind Cunt E across Tongue D, Nose T, and Mouth U. He should now release Hand F from their position on Nipple G or H and press down on Stomach V as I ride his prostrate and obedient spousal Face W to my well-deserved and much-needed Orgasms X, Y, and Z.
And to be completely honest, Wally Stud, if a simpleton like my husband can follow instructions successfully, then I can't, for the life of me, understand why you can't.
Yours exasperated at having to deal with such inane shit and wondering whether Rashid does home delivery at 4.00 in the morning because the fridge seems almost bare again,
Cum Girl (Mrs)
Beep de beepity beep
Yay! Dick pic!
Well, well, well, look at that fine example of masculinity. Now that most certainly is a big black cock. Not sure I can widen my pupils far enough to take it all in. And what a get-up; you don't get many cocks all dressed up in a silk turban and matching cape. I'd know that dick anywhere though I'm not sure why it's been sent to me. Ahhh, that explains it. He's sent it to his entire friend list. No doubt he got over-excited and slapped that monster down on the keyboard in wild abandonment. It is, of course, Princess LaVonne herself, the one and only, too black, too gay, and too holy for the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, Mr, and this is a complete misnomenaclature, Little Richard. Well, it was sweet of him to share but I'm not going to get myself too excitable, though maybe, just perhaps, he might like to give that baby an away day vacation in my botty hole if he's got no other takers. I'll just pop him off an invite and whilst I await his reply, let's go 'to a letter'.
Dear Crumble,
My wife keeps losing her head just because I keep falling for anything in a skirt. Any advice on how to make marriage number six last?
Yours,
Henry
Dear Tentpole Tudor,
You'll have to excuse me but I think I might be a bit squiffy. Besides, I'm struggling to see what your problem is.
Now the thing with us wives is that we are creatures of emotion, our every action and reaction defined by our 'moods' and you, as a mere humble 'wife lover' can't really be expected to attune yourself to our wild and unpredictable behaviours. Certainly, it is one of the many, many reasons that we shouldn't be expected to make important decisions or be left in charge of anything; with the possible exception of ovens and hoovers and washing machines and irons. So the mere fact that your wives react so unpredictably to minor bouts of infidelity is, I'm afraid, just the way of the world.
But, well done you for all your tremendous dedication. Too many menfolk give the position of spouse a single attempt and then, when the inevitable fracturing occurs, retire to the nearest public house and spend the rest of their days starring into the bottom of a pint glass. Which, of course, is entirely unhelpful and results in far too many wannabe wives clogging up WI Cake Sales and spending 24/7 in the firm and attentive grip of vibrating pleasure accessories; which is doing absolutely nothing for global warming.
Because none of us really want to be left on the shelf gathering dust bunnies in our nooks and crevices. So keep going, Henry, you are giving the world and, especially us wifely types, a good servicing. And what bit of skirt doesn't want to discover what a gentleman keeps tucked away in his rather obvious and splendid codpiece. Certainly, I know I'm game. That's 'game', not 'on the game' though if you do want to shower me in various expensive and sparkly gifts that might be a girl's best friend, then who am I to complain.
Yours perfectly willing to invite you to enjoy the tender caresses of my petal-like lips whenever you desire. It might not be a red-and-white rose but it is carnivorous and knows how to suck the goodness out of any meat trapped within its tender embrace,
Cum Girl (Mrs)
Ps. Is there currently a vacancy for the position of Mrs Henry and would the successful applicant be likely to receive any diamonds?
Pps. Fancy meeting around the back of The Queen's Head next Tuesday for a bit of a hanky-panky by the bins? If you bring your chopper, I've got a nice bit of flesh for you to bury it in.
Diamonds, as is well-recorded, are a girl's best friend but that certainly wouldn't prevent me from being friendly with some pearls or emeralds or rubies or even some lesser stones. Even good old-fashioned cash is acceptable if Bitcoins are not available. As a truly modern wife of financial expectation, I do insist that any potential husband does come accompanied by a dowry and I am always keen to emphasise that the position of Mr Cum is of a temporary nature and that the current resident shouldn't get his slippers too settled and should always ensure that they have a backup bed available for them to go and scratch their bollocks, fart, and snore of a nighttime. And talking of potential Mr Cums, it seems like there might be a female version offering herself up in the final letter.
That's the final letter. We can all rejoice that this shitstorm is nearly complete. So for one last time, let's go 'to the letter'.
Dear Mrs Mmm Girl,
I seem to have developed a disturbing weakness for wives. Other people’s, obviously. Single girls just don’t do it for me and I guess you could say I’m a bit of a wife lover. I don’t know why but they make my knees go weak and all I can think about is kneeling between their deliciously spread thighs and giving them the pleasure they deserve. Fortunately, my neighbour’s wife is fat and ugly, so I reckon I’m okay on the being godly front, but there’s a niggling doubt right at the back of my mind that tells me this is perhaps not the healthiest of routes.
What should I do Missus? (mmm)
Yours, with trembling knees,
Desirée Muff
Dear Desires Muff,
Finally. At last. A letter that truly understands the devotional requirements of wife worshipping. Banish doubt, sweet little Desirée, and allow yourself to wallow in desire.
Now it might be the case that your neighbour is a fat old trout with all the sexual allure of a fat old trout, but cast your net wider, or even use your free weekends to stalk about the used car lots nearby to see what wifely models are on offer. You might not find yourself a Lamborghini but I bet they've got quite a few Mazda MX5s knocking around for you to sample.
So place that wife on her pedestal where she belongs, resplendent in her divinity. As you, unworthy acolyte crawl in subjugated need. Eyes gazing smitten and adoring into her perfect visage, hand in front of hand, knees scraping across the floor, breasts swaying with your every progression as your buttocks wiggle in hope and expectation, and your unworthy yet so unbelievably achy, pulsing, and dribbling sex coats the top of your thighs with your hopeful nectar.
Should you be blessed, Desirée, your tongue might be allowed to graze its way along the arch of her foot's instep, the taste of her thickening on your tongue and invading your mouth as you dissolve into worshipful bliss. Maybe you'll be allowed to cleanse and suckle her pinkie piggies. One by one. Pulling them into the pool of your salivating mouth. Tongue delving between each one to pay homage to her hidden flesh.
So much hidden flesh to explore, gradually revealed to your insistent, barely contained need, her incomparable sex obvious and pouting before your ogling, upturned eyes, her ambrosia bubbling betwixt her spread, swollen labia. A glorious pink, fleshy flower oozing provocatively with barely suppressed want.
And if you are good. If you are a perfect pleasure. If, mind blank, body trembling, mouth panting with Desirée's desire, you ascend those parted thighs towards that humid entrapment of your obsessive adoration in total subjugation, she might invite you on with a 'come hither' smile as she guides you into the nurturing heart of her soaked cunt.
After which, no doubt, she'll fuck, use and abuse you until you are just empty, mindless, flesh trapped for all eternity as her wanton, desperate sex slave. And what could possibly be nicer than that?
So cast aside doubt, Desirée, and embrace your future as some wifely goddess' sexual plaything and fucktoy. You know you want to.
Yours feeling rather pleased with myself for having started some sweet little thing on their journey to becoming useful and worth inviting around for 'afternoon tea in the bedroom',
Cum Girl (Mrs)
So there we have it, our story is done. The 'not very spectacular' has 'not very spectacularlised'. Wives have found lovers and lovers have found wives. Advice has been dispensed and we are all better, and dare I say it, wiser for the experience. And what's more, it is time for me to clear away the empties and climb the wooden hill to Bedfordshire. But, just before I go a few words of thanks.
Thank you to my fellow authors and Lushland denizens for supplying the questions. So thank you to Armagnac, Brookell, Daisy Chained, Darkside, Deviant Susie, Dronette56, Elektra, JamesLlewellyn, Jocd, Kiteares, and O'Cuin. Also a special thanks to the anonymous extra set of eyes for volunteering themself to verify this excessively wordy, light-on-content, with barely any sexy bits, monster. I need to say a very special thank you to Daisy Chained for her support despite my obsessive behaviour.
Finally, I must thank you, dear Saddo, for persevering through these 11,500 words and to all of you who have read, commented or written to me about any of the twenty-four stories I've published in my Omnium quest an extra special 'Thank you'.
I've been Cum Girl. You've been a lovely bunch of Saddos. Goodnight and may your days and nights be fulfilled and blessed with pleasure.
Lynne
- 20.04.2021
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