by J D Stones
Her eyes fixed on his cock: flaccid but flickered into life as her oily fingers swept effortlessly over his chest and towards his still prick. He twisted on his seat, but Erin had the shy Frenchman where she wanted him and slowly massaged his front, carefully brushing his cock with every movement.
He fidgeted as his erection developed, embarrassed and anxious as his hard prick saluted my wife. She licked her lips, bringing her hands over his pubic hair and gripping his shaft. "And now for the last bit!"
Her eyes fixed on his wide expression as my wife rolled a condom down his prick. "Madam," he exclaimed.
"What?" My wife asked. "A massage here is professional and they would never touch you there. But a massage by me is from an old friend. And friends never leave each other unsatisfied!" Her eyes met his as her hips glided over his body and her hands pressed against his shoulders.
His uncertainty wilted moments after her cunt gripped his erect cock and my wife committed other act of adultery, pressing down on his dick and sliding her hips over his manhood.
And he squealed, crying out desperately as Erin massaged his cock with her slippery cunt, smiling at the French hotelier with her innocent eyes.
The middle-aged man's damp mousy hair became ruffled, her body sparkling with the gleam of sweat as she rode his cock, giving dramatic squeals as his cock twitched inside of her.
She knew she was being naughty and dirty; she knew she was breaking her marriage vows. She was breaking every rule in the book. But every slide of his cock into her felt more magical than the last, and as he screwed up his face, she felt his cock twitch and he spent inside the condom.
She got his custom.
Like she also got the custom of a local businessman who wanted to offer the luxury gym membership to his staff as an employee perk, only he didn't want to pay the full asking price. And thus a dance began. He was mildly diverted by the sight of my wife in her skin tight leotard in the gym, and she was completely entranced by the bobbing of his cock in the overly tight shorts she had provided the health aficionado.
She ogled his thighs, she licked her lips at the thought of his muscular legs pounding his cock into her and she dreamt of the well-defined frame that lay hidden underneath his tight T-Shirt.
She guided him on the weights machine, happily sliding her hand over his body as she made up a reason to lean across him, and openly sat with her legs open as he bench-pressed some weights.
But it was not until he returned to her office, that the shenanigans began; she locked her office door, and offered him a seat, leaning over her desk to retrieve a catalogue. She felt his hands on her waist, and she glanced up at him with wickedly sinful eyes. "You OK, love?"
Erin was far from "OK;" she needed sex and she needed to be touched by someone other than her husband. She needed someone to punctuate the sexual tension that they had created and Wayne had risen to her bait. She had led him on, and he was ready to seize her charms.
She parted her legs slightly, feeling the touch of her prospective client slide over her torso. "Such a lovely body you have. Such a sexy body."
She hummed and simpered, savouring his touch through her tight leotard and groaning as his lips nibbled on her ear lobes. "We could … if you want to."
He did. A few moments later, he pushed her onto her desk fully and slipped her leotard to one side over her crotch. She groaned as his condom-clad prick glided into her willing hole and fucked her from behind.
She felt every thrust, savoured every pounding of her sopping cunt, gratefully receiving its second cock of the day as her body was pressed against her desk.
And when he finally came, she was an orgasmic wreck: having come twice from his deep thrusts of his thick cock that left her mind addled with lust then spent with sexual relief.
She got his business too.
In fact, over the fortnight that followed she settled into a regular pattern: barely a day went past when she didn't get fucked at work, and her dance to get or keep business saw a sharp increase in her sales.
Her boss was delighted with the extra income, I adored the tales of lust and depravity and she came to love the sex. She needed it, and she needed the variety: no two men were different and no two cocks fucked the same way. She loved the adventure and the exploration of the male bodies, and she loved me for setting her free to spread her wings.
Which meant she was now keener than ever for me to spread mine.
Chapter X
Spreading wings
The adventures in cuckolding dominated our sex life for the following three or four weeks. I had become a regular panty wearer and she refused to allow me to wear anything other than skimpy, lacy or racy underwear. It was humiliating but she loved to tease and taunt me about it, and I always blushed.
It was a constant reminder of the smooth fabric against my skin that I was in a submissive role and even though I had some hair and did nothing to look “good” in panties, the feel of them always brought my sexual status to the front of my mind.
Her older panties often stretched to accommodate my bulk, but we used a small part of my bonus to go shopping and I bought a dozen pairs of underwear with her that were risqué and feminine. She teased me at the cashier of the lingerie store in Manchester, coming up to me as I paying and asking if I had got the "right size as they looked a bit small for me." I blushed as the checkout girl sniggered.
And thus, my underwear drawer became two-thirds women's underwear and one-third male. And I had to ask permission to wear men's underwear that I never got.
While, the impact play and BDSM hadn't been forgotten, my wife was enjoying regular and fantastic sex with random men so much that there scarcely seemed much time for it.
Christina and Bryn were regular visitors to our house and as our cuckold lifestyle drifted from being "new" to being "the norm," Erin's attention turned back to the BDSM and kinky journey we had started on.
Christina was a willing partner-in-crime: the women loved teasing and humiliating their men and there became many times when we were made to wear or do embarrassing things for their entertainment.
I began to enjoy the abuse I received from their hands, and Christina loved making me eat her out as Bryn plowed my wife's cunt with a big strap-on. They taunted us. Intercourse and release was becoming rarer and the use of my horniness to control me was obvious and apparent.
But I was enjoying it. I longed to have my wife dominate me, and her cute innocent eyes offering sadistic taunts always sent my blood racing to my cock.
It was on her "25th cock-versary" that the next stage in my sexual awakening happened; my wife had fucked twenty-five cocks since our journey into cuckoldry and a party was arranged. Christina baked her a cake in the shape of a big prick, and invited us to her "adult party" at the weekend, a few days away. Bryn and I were naked, as we poured champagne into glasses for them and my sluttily dressed wife savoured the attention.
"It's just a pity," my wife muttered. "That I'm on 25 in six weeks and my husband has none!"
"I have my own.”
Her eyes met mine and her lips swelled into a smile. "Try it … for me!"
I was slow to realise what she meant; her lips kissed mine and I tasted the acidic drink on her mouth. "Try what?"
"Try doing this …" She fell into her knees, running her tongue down the length of my cock until I gasped. "You're heteroflexible, aren't you?"
"Yes, but …"
"Yes, but what?" Her self-assurance was scarily erotic, her demands unequivocal. She stared up at me with wide eyes, waiting for me to make my next move.
What was I? Sure, I had played with Bryn's cock and brought him to orgasm, and I was open-minded about my sexuality, but Erin was demanding something much further than I had ever gone before.
Yet, something stirred inside of me. The very thought of sliding a man's cock between my lips was strangely enthralling. It scratched an itch, it excited me and it scared me. I shouldn't have those thoughts.
"Who?" I knew the answ
er to that very question before the word had left my lips. I wasn't concentrating on the present, but my mind was whirring towards the thoughts of my mouth kneeling in front of another man. Of Bryn.
He glanced at me, taking in the scene in front of him, standing prominently in his birthday suit. I stared at him, looking at his bare belly and thick thighs. Never before I had I studied him in such detail noticing every bump and imperfection in his pale skin.
And never before had another cock held my attention for so long; the six inches of erect manhood waiting for a slutty mouth to encircle the uncircumcised head of his pale white dick. His eyes met mine briefly, a wry smile.
They were waiting for me.
Erin slipped her hand into my palm, her warming touch was soothing as I steadied myself, drunk on lust. Scared and excited, nervous and desperate. I slipped to my knees in front of my fellow submissive, as my wife, still kneeling, put her hand on my shoulder.
"Good," she gestured, sliding a single finger under Bryn's erect cock. "Take it in your lips." I did. My mouth moved in to the steely erection, licking my lips as the thick cock slid into my mouth.
His glans was smooth, gliding effortlessly over my lips and onto my tongue as my eyes focused on his mass of thin pubic hair overgrown at the base of his cock.
But my senses were alive. I inhaled his masculine scent, I savoured his taste of sex and my cock throbbed for attention as my head bobbed over his cock-head.
And from a few moments I had gone from shy submissive to cocksucker, gently squeezing his sensitive cock between my lips as I impaled my mouth deeper and deeper onto his manhood.
It was dirty; I felt degraded and disgusting as Erin instructed me to go "deeper" and "faster." Her fingers traced the length of my cock. His manhood speared my lips and every twitch of his delightful organ was enjoyed by the cocksucking cuckold, spreading his wings.
My right hand gripped his shaft, my left hand squeezed his buttocks, idly pressing against his perineum as I pumped him, jerking the millionaire into a frenzied groaning state. My tongue swirled against his smooth cock-head and my lips massaged the smooth shaft.
He was so close.
So was I. Every movement felt so taboo and exhilarating. My wife was transfixed by the sight of her until-now straight husband sucking a man towards orgasm.
And he was. Perilously close.
I allowed my lips to fall from his cock and jerked him passionately, staring up at his screwed-up face closed eyes. He grunted and groaned, gasped and squealed as this cock tightened and shuddered before the first wave of cum landed across my chest.
I felt my own cock twitch; the warm goo landing across my bare hairless torso was scintillating. My thoughts spun; my lust and sexual confusion melting together as I held his squirting cock still to feel wave after wave of semen jettisoned onto my pale skin.
There was near silence; nothing but the heavy breathing of lust-crazed adults disturbed the quiet. I waited for someone to say something, I waited for my wife to do anything.
I waited for my mind to recover: my taste-buds full of sex and my nostrils dancing to the smell of male arousal.
"I better get cleaned up," I muttered, but Christina stopped me from leaving the room, pulling my hand back.
"Bryn, clean up!" She ordered. Her husband smiled; without thinking his tongue swirled over my chest and my pectorals, hoovering his semen from my body.
It tickled. I giggled.
Until he found my nipple: moist warmth massaging my point and sending fiery lust to my cock. He glanced up at me, fidgeting against the cool wall as his hands pinned me to the brickwork and his mouth teased and aroused me.
I gasped as his fingers spread pre-cum over the head of my dick, watching as my sexually submissive friend lowered his mouth, dancing over my belly and pubis to take my cock in his mouth.
And he didn't hesitate, plunging his experienced mouth over my manhood and sucking, running his tongue over my glans as he bobbed quickly and effortlessly over my cock.
I groaned; it was unlike any blow-job I had ever had, the warm pressure was incredibly intense and I was on the edge of the cliff for ages, savouring every twitch and flick of this seasoned cocksucker.
I was oblivious to being centre of attention; I was lost in the moment, feeling the pressure well inside of me. I closed my eyes, groaned, held onto my orgasm for as long as I could, squeezing my buttocks and feeling the intense rush of ecstasy as I reached my peak and spewed streaks of cum into the mouth of my neighbour.
And he just gobbled at it, swallowing my cum as if it was a glass of fine wine. I panted, recovering from my shuddering orgasm and he looked directly at me.
Smiling.
He knew.
They all did.
I had enjoyed it.
Suddenly, my sexuality felt different.
Chapter XI
Jason
That evening changed everything: we both knew our sex life would never be the same again. After Bryn and I had fellated each other, my wife and Christina played with a smorgasbord of kink equipment on our defenceless skin, turning my alabaster buttocks a violent shade of crimson. They both enjoyed several orgasms courtesy of my tongue.
We spoke after we got home; we both laid our thoughts and feelings on the table. I confessed that I had strangely enjoyed the act of giving and then receiving oral sex from another guy. It was a submissive act, and it explored something deep within my psyche; her lips curled into a knowing smile before suggesting that I explore my bisexual side much further. She wanted me to. The thought turned her on.
I was racked with a weird sense of guilt; it wasn't the first time I felt I had strayed from my marriage vows: I'd played with Bryn's cock and eaten out Christina, but blowing another man felt much further and serious than those acts. And even though my wife was beside me as I fellated Bryn, inside I felt at fault and to blame for an aberration.
But Erin openly admitted she loved seeing me doing it; she begged for a repeat performance and a few days later Bryn and I took turns in sucking each other off, for the entertainment of our dominant wives.
It got easier, and over the next few weeks Bryn was the only reason I got any orgasms; the well-built millionaire enjoying my cock like it was a gorgeous popsicle moments after I had sucked him to a breathless whimper.
A few days later after that party, he came in my mouth for the first time: feeling the squirts of his peak hit the back of my throat and pool on my tongue. It was a different sense of dirtiness; a filthy orgasmic treat that had me nearly climaxing myself as I swallowed his manly load.
After that, I began to desire it; I wanted to go down on him as much as I wanted to go down on my wife and Christina. I loved the taste of him, and the feeling of submission I felt as I impaled myself on his manhood, jutting proudly and begging to be sucked dry of cum by a cocksucking neighbour.
Erin's cuckoldry increased and not a day went past without her meeting for sex, or arranging to be fucked. My wife also bought a couple of ankle chains; we had seen Christina always wearing one and our neighbour explained it was a symbol to dominant bulls that they were potentially available.
Her sexual rewards scheme for corporate clients had seen her take-home commission trebled as almost every meeting ended with a contract being signed and she began to work her way through many of the personal trainers and lifeguards.
Which was where Jason entered our life. Jason taught a bodybuilding class and my slutty wife had noticed him from the moment she set eyes on his bulging muscles and cheeky smile. She flirted with him, and he flirted with her. She spoke about him to Christina, lewdly guessing the size of his cock as the sadistic hotwives taunted their naked cuckold husbands.
"I bet he's massive," my wife teased, running her fingers down my averagely-sized cock. "Not like this little weiny here." My eyes met hers, her expression changed as she reached for a leather paddle and slapped it against the palm of her hand, giggling as her toy captured my attention.
The first strike ca
ught my by surprise, smashing her leather paddle against the side of my thigh. She laughed at my yelp and then savoured the blows raining down on my backside until I was squealing in pain.
"If you can't make me happy with a big cock, then a red arse will have to suffice!" She laughed and Christina repeated the punishment on Bryn's pearly-white rear to turn it crimson.
Our children stayed at their grandparents the following weekend with their cousins; Erin and Christina dressed in provocative outfits, as usual, and I was stripped naked before being told to enjoy my evening watching football with Bryn.
We had made the transition from kinky couple to bisexual cuckold and hotwife with ease, although the thought of her being seduced by other men still caused the odd pang of jealousy. It was hard for it not to, but she loved the thrill of the chase and the feelings of a new man each day and when Erin was happy, I was happy.
Also, Bryn gave excellent blowjobs; the long lick on my turgid cock was a magical feeling, sending shivers to every pore on my expectant body. I craved his touch, enjoying every feeling of delightful depravity as I wantonly engaged in homosexual loving with our next-door neighbour.
Then I'd repay the favour, gorging on my filthy desires as his manhood would slip into my mouth. I'd suck and play, licking his erect cock until it was spewing pre-cum onto my tongue and he was whimpering towards his climax.
And finally, the piece-de-resistance: a few spurts of his sapid cum to fill my mouth and dance on my tastebuds as my grunting buddy experienced an orgasmic surge of relief from my lips.
There'd be no playing tonight: my wife forbade it. Instead, on a Friday evening we'd enjoy lower league football in Bryn's vast lounge as we supped on cups of Earl Gray tea and made idle chatter.
He was naked except for a chastity belt: the fierce metal rings looping over his manhood and encasing his cock in a steel prison that he stood no chance of circumventing without the padlock key. I felt the cool metal against my hands, holding his cock into a submissive flaccid position while his wife was seduced and roundly fucked in a bar far away.