by Naomi Penn
Without answering, Nadia reached around with her right hand and grabbed his member. I could see it visibly throbbing in her hand as she placed the tip of it against her lips before slowly opening her mouth as wide as she could.
Colin had veins running through his manhood that were thicker than my whole member. Nadia bucked slightly as she struggled to take half of his cock into her longing mouth. I watched as Colin’s eyes began to roll in his head.
“That’s it baby. Suck my cock! You know you’ve wanted it so bad for years. You were a fool to leave me. Now suck that cock good in front of that weak husband of yours. Show him who the real man around here is.”
By now my cock was standing to full attention and was physically hurting me as it strained to come through the material of my boxers.
Colin reached around and placed his hands underneath Nadia’s head, impaling her further onto his rigid cock. I looked down at her as her eyes began to water and Colin continued to stare up at me.
Nadia’s face turned red before he finally released her and her head fell back against the carpeted floor, panting heavily.
“Take a look up at your husband Nad.” Colin demanded as she slowly began to tilt her head backwards, her soft eyes looking up at me as she blinked the water from them.
“Babe, look at you!” She smiled, staring at the tent in my boxers and smiling enthusiastically. I managed a goofy smile in return, half in pride that I was finally managing to regain a full, throbbing erection and half in shame that my wife was being taken in front of me by her stud of an ex-boyfriend. But it seemed that there was no way to hide the fact that I was enjoying every minute of this.
Nadia reached back towards my cock, stretching her fingers out she came within inches of it before Colin reached up and pulled her hand away.
“I don’t think he has learned his lesson at all yet Nad.” He smiled up at me as my face turned from that of a goofy smile to one that was experiencing sheer torture. My God how I wanted to fuck her right then.
Colin slid back down her body as Nadia obeyed the guru’s demand and rested her arm gently by her side. Colin continued to slide down her body as he pressed his face gently down against her stomach, licking it all over. He continued down until his nose was pressed against the thin fabric of her thong, the only thing which prevented him access to her womanliness.
“My God you are so fucking wet right now,” he moaned as he breathed in her scent deeply, his body shuddering as he exhaled. You haven’t been fucked for a good long time, have you?” He sneered as he clamped down on her thong at her hip bone with his perfect teeth and began to stretch the material. He pulled up and up and up as his eyes returned their focus to me. The fabric began to give way before it ripped completely from her body, leaving her completely exposed in front of him.
He wasted little time as he spat the thong to one side and pressed his face against her dripping pussy. Again, he inhaled deeply before raising his eyes up to me.
“I bet you’ve never made her this wet before?” He asked his rhetorical question before moving back down and quickly inserting his tongue into the heart of her pussy. He moved in quick, sharp bursts as Nadia began to buck on the floor, her body almost going into spasm.
“Oh my fucking God,” she moaned out loudly as Colin continued to press his tongue up against her clit, rolling it around before pulling it away, teasing her more and more.
Nadia’s nails dug into the carpet as her legs sprang into action, nimbly wrapping themselves around the stud’s head, as her glistening thighs pulled him in closer.
He began to go to town on her pussy, running his tongue all around, sending shivers through her body as she struggled to control her movements. She almost choked him with her legs before he managed to pry his head away from her wanting and neglected womanliness.
He pulled away as Nadia’s rib cage expanded and she gasped some air in. Colin licked his lips as he stared up at me, a look of triumph in his eyes.
“Starting to feel alive again are we?” He asked as Nadia lay panting on the floor.
“Please don’t stop now!” She almost cried as her sumptuous body glistened with moisture, dripping down onto the carpet.
“Oh I don’t intend to. I don’t intend to at all!” Colin laughed.
And he didn’t. He ran his hands along Nadia’s perfect legs. He caressed her thighs and ran his hands all the way around to her plump ass. He smacked it once as she moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Although I’m pretty sure which emotion won out in the end.
He planted his hands deep into the flesh of her ass, gripping her tightly before lifting her body up and turning it around. Nadia was now face down on the carpet, her face inches from my feet.
Colin smirked up at me with an evil grin.
“Look up at your husband Babe.” He laughed as he proceeded to mount my wife from behind.
He pressed the head of his cock gently up against Nadia’s ass, spreading her cheeks gently with his hands. He pulled back and used his hand to stroke his cock, imparting as much moisture as he could onto it. He pressed it back gently against her, sliding it up and down, teasing her sensitive skin.
“Please. Dear God please!” Nadia began to moan as she looked up at me.
“Please fuck me with your massive cock! I want it inside me now!”
Colin needed no further persuasion as pressed his cock in and Nadia’s jaw dropped. He continued to slide his throbbing member until it was in to about half of its length before pulling back out again. Nadia moaned as the rippling sensations flowed through her body. With my free hand, I had lowered my boxers to my ankles and began to stroke my own rock hard cock, which had grown to a size I hadn’t seen it at since I was eighteen.
With no warning, Colin slammed his hips back in against Nadia until he was balls deep in her ass. He shot me a triumphant look as Nadia moaned loudly before he released her and slammed back in three more times. The next time he pulled his cock completely out and stood up and walked around Nadia’s body, to where I was sitting.
“I’ll take those.” He said as he reached down and pulled his boxers back on. He walked over to his desk and quickly put his shirt and trousers back on before reaching into the drawer of his desk.
“Please. I need more!” Nadia begged as she lay on the floor completely naked at my feet.
“Oh and you’ll get it alright. Take one look at your husband.”
Nadia looked up at me as she lay on the ground. Her eyes widened as she looked at my throbbing cock which I still held in my hand.
Colin walked over and dropped a set of keys at my feet. The keys of the handcuffs. He then walked out of the room, straightening his tie as he shut the door firmly behind him.
Nadia looked up at me and licked her lips.
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TEMPTATION TALES
Story 38
Everyone seemed to have their own opinion about the ailment that was affecting me. While the elder women insisted that I was jeopardizing my piety and feminine grace by allowing my awful bout of developing a condition known as becoming a chronic self-pleaser to get the best of me, the newer generation, my own mother included, insisted that it was a form of hysteria and that if I was treated, the pleasing would surely stop until I was properly wed.
However, everything now seemed to be hysteria. It was as if the medical profession was a child who had discovered the existence of a new plaything, which they wanted to use for literally everything, even if the toy was not suitable for the task in any capacity.
If a woman sneezed in public, or even grew weepy while carrying the wrong type of herbs or flowers in their nosegay as they walked through a crowd, the general consensus decided that the problem could be nothing other than the dreaded hysteria.
Although I didn’t care for those who felt that hysteria was plaguing females in droves, as though a demonic possession had monopolized the entire gender, I could not have cared less what the problem actually was. All
I wanted was to be cured.
Once I began, the need to feel that rush called to me, both during the day and while I slept.
Sometimes, I would even wake up in the middle of the night, grasping desperately at myself and trying to stop the ache in my womanliness, without satisfying it in the only way I knew how. However, I was weak and eventually, I would give in.
Still, now that my secret was out, I was tired of the whispers I received in the presence of elders and the comments dropped by my family about my condition.
I had not yet met a man with whom I was to be betrothed, but I did have a wild side about me that made my emotions run rampant. Strong willed and excited to learn as well as experience all that life had to offer in Victorian England, which was little indeed, apart from a royal hierarchy and glorified chamber pots, set me apart from my family and even many of my friends.
Nonetheless, no matter what I did or what preventative measures I took, whatever I learned about, I wanted to experience it for myself and I did not seem to have the ability to curb the sensation so that I kept the desire to myself.
***
When it came to feelings and having a good time, I was also drawn to it. Sexually and otherwise, whether a woman was supposed to feel such things or not, I usually had a connection to it.
In a community that looked down on women who chose to speak their mind and show their feelings, having what I was taught was a condition was particularly hard for me to take. I wanted to understand what was going on with my and I was certainly not against getting rid of this plagued sense of self-pleasing, or form of hysteria; after all, as a child, I had always strived to be a good girl, but I was just too afraid of the procedures that were meant to treat such a condition.
Many women my age, especially those who were already married, were labeled with the same kind of illness and their fates were worse than the illness itself.
In fact, these horrible practices had gotten so bad that wives and daughters had begun to fear that their suspect husbands and families would be lurking around every corner, waiting to knock them out or trick them into seeing a physician so that they could mutilate the body in an attempt to stop the disease from afflicting them.
More often than not, these procedures only made the woman more outwardly hysterical, after they were left feeling that they were robbed of something. Therefore, no woman wanted to take that chance, no matter how terribly they suffered, both socially and physically from their ailment.
When I was small, I was able to wonder. It was innocent, child’s play and that was probably why I got away with it. I made it a point to ask a lot of questions and be compassionate towards others. I maintained a habit of not only helping others, but also feeling for them. I also developed the practice of acknowledging my feelings and speaking them out loud.
For a child, that was fairly acceptable, but for a woman, that could not have been more wrong.
The elders warned my mother, or so that is what she claimed, but at the time, she must have seen no harm in her daughter’s curiosities. Perhaps, instead of feeling those same curiosities outwardly, she lived vicariously through me.
Even though I wasn’t sure, that was the best explanation that I could come up with as to why my mother did not sever my inquisitiveness and outward sense of feeling at the start. As a child, I was pleased, since I felt as though I learned, almost as much as the boys, even without any schooling, which was uncommon.
Yet, it seemed that the second that I became an adult, everyone had expected those feelings and those compassions to vanish. Suddenly, those compassions and sense of inquisitiveness was no longer acceptable.
Of course, as I grew into a woman, my needs changed. Instead of just wanting to know about the world, I also wanted to explore myself, both my personality and sexually. Therefore, the kind of information I required became more taboo and apparently, so did my actions. I began to self-please, trying to get answers and eventually, I was caught.
Without explanation, I was told that in order to become a proper woman, I was expected to just stop, but once I had felt that senses of excitement, I never wanted it to end. Therefore, I was labeled as chronic.
I had even been told to harbor the information that I possessed, but stop from gaining anything else and if nothing else, I was ordered to stop showing so much emotion and need. I was told that I would have a man soon enough and that apparently would solve all of my problems.
Unfortunately, I didn’t see it that way.
It seemed that now, no matter what I did, everyone had something to say. If I were to shed a tear or even come across as too merry, everyone would insist that my self-pleasing nature was getting the best of me and I should leave before it spread. I wasn’t sure if people thought that I was contagious, if they were jealous, or if they simply did not know what to make of my free spirit, but whatever the reason was, also didn’t bother me.
All I wanted was to have some kind of reprieve from the demons that seemed to inhabit my mind, making me feel and question things that proper women shouldn’t. I wanted to be a good daughter, a respectable friend and one day, a dutiful wife, but it seemed that wanting to take part in these social practices appropriately and being able to do so were two very different animals.
***
My mother has admitted, on multiple occasions, that she blames herself for my horrible affliction, but that neither makes anything better nor, helps me to cure my ailment. In many ways, it made it worse, because while my mother might have blamed herself, it did not allow her to be proud of me and I was still blamed for my indiscretion, so there really was not excuse.
My mother thought that perhaps if I found a husband, I would be able to curb my appetite as well as my curiosity, but my father was too ashamed to allow me to date, for fear that I would not act as I should and I would worsen my social status, thus bringing the rest of my family down as well.
My father was a banker and an important member of the community, so obviously, my indiscretions were not well-received and he rued having a daughter like me. He thought I could help it though, that I was purposefully unruly, even though I had tried to have a conversation with him multiple times about how I tried to help it, but simply couldn’t and still, he never took the time to understand.
Once, he did have an exorcism performed on me, but that did nothing, as I was only plagued and tormented by my own overactive emotion, drive for knowledge and willingness to experience.
Hence, my mother eventually threatened to bring me to one of those terrible doctors if I did not get my condition under control soon, though she wasn’t very helpful in that pursuit.
So, I turned to my friend, Ruth, who was not so much self-pleasing as she was extremely emotional. There would be times where my friend would grow so angry it truly would be like a devil was inside of her. She would scream and holler, while crying uncontrollably.
She lived just a few houses down from my parents and there would be some nights where her sobs and shrieks could be heard from my upper chambers. When she was like that, no one could talk to her or even look at her in a way that displeased her.
Not wanting to harm her, her parents would often lock her in the attic and even threatened to send her away to the asylum on the outskirts of town, where people sometimes would go, but never returned.
Like me, after her episode, she would try her best to be good. After all, she never intended to be that way, but eventually, she would have an off day that would send her spiraling into delirium and after her last episode she decided that she had to take it upon herself to try to do something.
She ended up finding a doctor that gave her a cure she lives and breathes by. After the first time, she started going to the doctor once or twice a month, depending on her needs and how she was feeling at that particular time in order to curb her outburst.
***
At first, I thought little of it, thinking that even though it worked for Ruth it would not guarantee that it would work for me, but after a particula
rly horrid night, whereupon my mother told me that I too was going to be taken to the asylum, because I was such a disgrace to my family and they no longer wished to have a close, forced association with me, I decided that I should talk to Ruth about what she went through.
“I can’t tell you all of the details, but I can assure you that it has changed my life,” Ruth said while we were sitting in private together in the gardens.
“You do seem to be responding well. Is it a surgery of some sort?” I asked before taking a sip of my tea and lightly setting the cup down, hoping that she could not tell how nervous I was to be here, talking like this to her.
I had always wanted to ultimately disregard the idea that I had a problem, since all through my childhood, I had been encouraged to act this way, but now that I was faced with such a terrifying ultimatum, I was ready to do just about anything to avoid being put away.