by Jason Luke
It sounded like I was touching a secret part of her soul.
Christine’s wicked gasps were incredibly arousing. Every whisper, every growling husk in the back of her throat spoke of pure sensual pleasure that went beyond the physical and seemed to elevate the eroticism of the moment.
Her hand around her ankle ran up along the taut length of her thigh and then disappeared for a moment. I heard the sound of her sucking her fingers and then felt her touch between her legs. She was pleasuring herself, bending her knees just a little to reach her clit. I wished that I could have seen her face – more than anything else I wanted that. I wanted to see the dreamy pleasure in her eyes mirroring the sounds in her throat.
I took my hands from her thighs, thrust just a few more times and then withdrew myself from her pussy.
Christine looked back over her shoulder. She saw my glistening cock and her smile became deliciously debauched. She reached out for me, took my length in her hand, sinking down onto her knees at the same time and opening her mouth wide.
I was beginning to sway. The edges of my vision burst into swirling light.
I stared down and watched Christine’s mouth engulf me, her lips and her hand working in practiced unison along my shaft until the flesh there seemed to burn and prickle with unrestrained urge. Christine hooded her eyes, alternating her gaze between the sight of my cock disappearing between her pouting lips, and the rapt expression on my face. I felt my eyes sear her with burning desire as her mouth made exquisite love to my cock until at last I could hold back not a moment longer.
I erupted deep in her mouth and she gulped and slurped hungrily until I had nothing more – nothing at all left to give.
Christine had been a very good girl for me and my good girls always got rewarded. I perched her on the edge of the kitchen countertop and she parted her legs wide, then leaned back with her head resting against the wall.
I went down on one knee and kissed her swollen clit. I heard Christine sigh. The lips of her pussy were flared and swollen with her arousal, the flesh of her shaved sex reddened. My lips slid down to the wetness welling within her and I lapped at her juices hungrily. Christine wrapped one hand into the hair at the back of my head and braced her balance with the other. I reached up with one hand and teased her nipple while the other hand held her knees wide apart. Christine threw back her head and closed her eyes. Her fingers tangled in my hair clenched and released, mirroring the pulsing waves of her pleasure.
Quickly I settled into a rhythm, judging the pressure of my tongue by the changing sounds of her breathing. My tongue danced lightly across her clit and then flicked within her. She stiffened for an instant and tried to thrust herself against me. I slid my tongue from inside her and sat back for a moment. A flush of color was spreading slowly across her chest. I went back to teasing her clit.
I was ravenous now, sensing that it required just a little longer for Christine to orgasm. My tongue thrumming across her clit was incessant. She drew in a sharp sudden breath and then began clutching at one of her breasts and plucking at the ruby red nub of her nipple, her head bowed over, watching me with wide mesmerized eyes.
When Christine came, it was with a growl in her throat and a convulsive bucking of her hips. My tongue stayed pressed to her pussy and the rush of her arousal was as warm and sweet as honey on my tongue.
Much later, when we were dressing, Christine told me she wouldn’t be visiting any more. I never asked her why. Maybe she found a tree in a forest that had vines like long tentacles… or maybe she felt it was better to jump before she was pushed. We both knew right from the outset that our relationship was for the pursuit of a good time, not a long time.
Before we went our separate ways, Christine suggested offhandedly that I should write a book about some of the things I had discovered about women and sexuality.
So I did.
It was a novel about a fictional interview with a Master…
Which happens to lead me to my next question.
So what does reading erotica do for you? How does reading repay you in exchange for the time you give it?
Ever think about that?
I mean, reading erotica means something different to just about everyone. For many women, it’s a chance just to deservedly unwind and relax for a couple of hours at the end of a frantic day after everyone in your family has made demands of your time. Reading is your little reward.
Or maybe you read erotica in order to live vicariously through the exploits of fictional characters. There’s nothing wrong with that. Daily life is a grind and if your escape is into the fantasy of fictional erotica heroes, and that’s how you take a rest from the worries of life, then who is anyone to judge?
Good for you.
Some ladies read because they are especially fascinated with an aspect of the erotica genre – most notable the BDSM lifestyle. For them, reading is a little like research, and they dream about maybe one day being able to experience for themselves some of the things their favorite characters experience.
How about you?
I write erotica books because it’s a subject I know a little bit about. But I’m not the mystery here… you are!
I suspect your reasoning changes. I suspect you love books, love to escape into the pages of a compelling story… and the erotica genre allows you to enjoy harmless fantasies and at the same time maybe discover some fascinating stuff and sexy ideas along the way.
Am I wrong?
Tell me if I am. It’s important because I want to understand you, and I want to know where you’re coming from. That’s what friends do, don’t they. They listen and learn about each other…. just like we’re doing, you and I, right now.
* * *
Do you like to watch?
It’s a fantasy that a large number of women secretly think about; they dream about watching another couple having sex. Some submissive women crave the specific humiliation of watching their man with another woman…
Does this surprise you?
From personal experience I can tell you that having sex with another woman while your partner is watching is an enormous turn-on. At the dominant – submissive level, a Master might use such a scenario when training a slave.
How would you feel about watching your man or your Master pleasure another woman while you sat – only allowed to watch – on the edge of the bed, or maybe in a corner?
You see, submission comes in many forms; pain and specific humiliation are just a couple of aspects. I guess being a cuckquean falls into the latter category.
On two occasions I have brought another woman home for sex while the submissive sat and watched us. On one of those occasions the scenario blew up in my face – the submissive girl I was in a relationship with realized after the first few minutes that what she thought would be arousing was actually enraging…. so I won’t talk about that night!
The other night though was a spectacular success and actually went on to become a semi-regular arrangement that worked well for all three of us; my submissive, the visiting woman and myself.
The submissive girl I was training was named Deanne. She was an athletic girl who was active in a number of sports. We had met at a local sporting event and over time began seeing each other exclusively for BDSM training sessions. Deanne was a willing student and a very obedient submissive. Everything she did was given the same careful attention and discipline as her sporting pursuits. She hated to lose, and she hated performing her submissive tasks to a less than excellent standard. At school she would have been the kid who always got gold stars.
Kimberly on the other hand was a different woman entirely. We had shared a few sexy weekends together before she had moved to a different part of the country a year earlier. She was a voracious insatiable fiend with long black hair and a willowy figure. She had a pretty face and a spectacular figure. I called her up and we talked. I mentioned my plan and offered to fly her in for a weekend.
Kimberly was on the next plane and Deanne was sitti
ng in the back seat when we picked Kim up from the airport.
The two women were like fire and ice. Deanne was demure. She had a trim figure and brown hair. Her intensity was a total contrast to the wild-child personality of Kim.
When we arrived at my apartment, it was natural for Kim to hook her arm in mine, and we walked side-by-side to the front door with her hip and her breast brushing against my arm while Deanne followed, silent and pensive.
Kim was staring up into my face, smiling with big flirtatious eyes. When we got inside she threw her jacket over the sofa and stood with her hands on her hips, eye-to-eye with Deanne.
Kim made her intentions clear, taking the script we had roughed out over the phone and then ad-libbing outrageously. She told Deanne that I was hers to fuck for the weekend and that Deanne had better learn to love watching my cock in another woman’s pussy. Then she told Deanne that she would sit and watch, but never comment, and never come. For the entire weekend she was to be denied the release of an orgasm.
Okay… well that hadn’t gone quite to plan. I had intended an explanation that was more sensitive, more sensual. My style of domination was more sophisticated and reasoned. Kim’s set of demands was like a slap in the face.
For long, long, very long seconds Deanne said nothing, but I could see the turmoil in her eyes – the simmering, lip-quivering outburst that hovered between her thin pressed lips.
Finally, to my bewildered surprise, Deanne nodded her head in capitulation and then lowered her eyes submissively to the floor. Kim shot me a glance over her shoulder and gave me a triumphant wink.
And I just about fainted.
Kim and I knew each other’s bodies well, so there were no trembling moments of discovery or delight. We simply went into the bedroom and tumbled onto the mattress together like the long-lost lovers we were, and began kissing passionately. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Deanne standing in the threshold of the doorway with her arms folded across her chest. I felt Kim’s hands rubbing across the hardness of my cock and then she fumbled with my belt buckle and zipper. I propped my head up on a mountain of pillows and ordered Deanne to strip naked. She did so mechanically, until she was ankle deep in her dress and underwear. I beckoned her to the edge of the mattress with a commanding gesture of my hand. She came on silent feet, her eyes fixed on mine, not daring to flick her gaze to where Kim was crouched on her hands and knees, freeing my hard cock from the restraint of my jeans.
I ordered Deanne to spread her legs. She fixed her gaze on a mark on the far wall, lifted her chin a little and shuffled her feet apart. Her hands went instinctively behind her and she pulled her shoulders back, presenting her pert breasts.
Her pussy was inexplicably wet. No, actually, not just wet. She was really drenched. My palm brushed across her clit and then I slid two fingers straight up inside her. Deanne gnawed on her lip and tried to stop her hips from bucking responsively.
Kim had my cock in her mouth, kneeling over me with her dress hiked up around her waist and her knees splayed wide apart. The buttons of her blouse had been undone and I could see the lace of her bra and the white mounds of her bulging breasts. I slid a hand up between her thighs and she stopped sucking my cock for just long enough to sigh encouragement.
My fingers found the dampness of her through the warm wet silk of her underwear. I glided my fingers back and forth, rucking the sheer fabric into the deep crease between her pussy lips, and Kim groaned again with a mixture of desire and anticipation.
At last she let my cock slide from between her lips and knelt upright on the bed. She was looking defiantly at Deanne as she slowly drew her panties down her thighs. She kicked the lace aside and quickly slipped out of her heels.
I laid Deanne on the bed, flat on her back and then Kim shuffled around until she was on her hands and knees directly above. The two women were looking into each other’s eyes, Kim’s breasts hanging out of her blouse. She spread her legs and I knelt behind her, swiping the swollen head of my cock slowly along her pussy until it was coated in her wetness. I pushed inside her gently, taking my time, and Kim’s mouth hung open and her eyelids fluttered. Deanne was staring up, directly into Kim’s eyes. She would have seen the look of rapture on Kim’s face as my cock filled her – there was simply no way she couldn’t have.
I began fucking Kim, using shallow teasing probes of my cock because I knew from experience that was what drove her into a sexual frenzy. My hands were on her hips. I held her under tight restraint to stop her pushing back against me, and as I slowly fucked her, my thoughts went to Deanne.
Was she insanely jealous, or maddeningly aroused?
I needed to know.
I pulled my cock from Kim’s pussy and rolled her onto her side. I positioned myself behind her and Kim lifted one leg high into the air so I could enter her. This time I fucked her deeply with a hand wrapped around her waist, my fingers teasing her nipple while my cock plunged in and out.
Deanne was ordered to kneel over Kim’s pussy and use her tongue to lick and please us. I told her she could masturbate but that she must stop before reaching orgasm. Deanne nodded dutifully and I let out a groan when I felt the flutter of her tongue as it swabbed enthusiastically between Kim’s flared wet pussy lips and the base of my cock each time it disappeared deep inside Kim’s sex. Deanne was fingering herself furiously. In less than thirty seconds she had to stop.
That was when I knew.
That was when I was sure cuckqueaning was going to work for us as a submissive training tool.
Deanne kept touching herself like she was stoking a fire, letting it burn down and then reigniting the flames by returning her hand to her pussy. All the while I continued to fuck Kim, urged on by her slutty vocal encouragement. When I came, it was deep inside her with Kim’s own orgasm brought on by Deanne’s tongue, licking contentedly at her clit while my cum trickled onto her tongue.
That weekend passed in a blur. Kim and I had sex half-a-dozen times: once in the back of the car while Deanne was in the front seat, naked and driving. Another time I made Deanne sit blindfolded beside the bed with her hands tied so that all she had was the sounds of us fucking, and her imagination. By the second evening Deanne at last gave up all pretense of merely being obedient and in a hushed, embarrassed rush of words she actually admitted that the weekend had been the most arousing experience of her life.
She had found her fantasy.
And so too had Kim.
Every woman has a fantasy…
* * *
Touch yourself!
Spread your legs right now and touch your clit. I want you to surrender to your arousal, forget your inhibitions, and just touch yourself.
Feel the tip of your finger slide just a small way inside your pussy – enough to provoke you – enough to make you throw back your head, and for your lips to part in a sexy little gasp. Can you sense your arousal? Can you feel the warmth spreading through your lower body; those first signs of sexual excitement? Can you feel yourself becoming wet and wanting?
Touch yourself!
Do it for you… and do it for me.
Don’t make me come prowling out of the shadows. Don’t make me kiss you because I honestly don’t know where that will end. Right now everything that is instinctive to me is restrained on a tight leash. If I cross this room – if I get close to you… well I don’t have the discipline to resist.
We’ve connected, you and I. We’ve become intimate.
So touch yourself. Let me watch you come. I want to see the look on your face at that exquisite moment of rapture. I want you to stare across the room right now and make eye contact with me as your breathing quickens and the beat of your heart begins to race.
Play with your pussy and imagine my hands running over your breasts, my kisses down your throat. Fill your mind with your own secret fantasies and give yourself over to the sound of my voice and your own sensual need. To be a good girl for me sometimes means you must be wickedly naughty. This is our moment.
&
nbsp; Touch yourself!
I want to watch you come.
* * *
So where do we go from here, now that so much between us has changed in such a profound way?
We’re different now, you and I. We have been made different by what we have just shared. It’s enhanced the nature and intensity of our relationship.
By being so intimate.
I don’t want to leave here and let the emotional connection between us just dwindle. I don’t want this time to become just a fond reminiscence.
So can we meet again, sometime soon maybe?
I’ll have more stories to entertain and arouse you. And you… well who will you be when we next meet? Will you be transformed in some way? Will you smile at me with a secret sense of anticipation when I arrive again?
I can hardly wait to find out.
Anticipation… it really is everything!