by J D Stones
My cock ached, straining the thin lace that my hotwife made her submissive cuckold wear. I wanted to relieve the pressure. I wanted to touch my erect prick. But I was not allowed.
Bobby smiled at the camera and plunged his fingers into her crotch. She panted breathlessly on the duvet. She gulped, exhaling sharply as he twirled against her sopping pussy, pressing his fingers into her cunt and clearly pressing against her G-Spot.
Yvonne's eyes sparkled; the lust in her eyes was no act. She groaned with every touch from her partner, squirming as his fingers and hand stimulated her insides and took her hurtling towards the brink of another orgasm.
I made the briefest of eye contact with her, raising the camera to capture her desperate gaze in the viewfinder. It was hot; her entire demeanour was deliciously erotic as her hips bucked against Bobby's fingers and her hands toyed with her nipples.
She panted and cried, squealing and crying as the first wave of the climax smashed into her defenceless body. Bobby smiled at the camera, mouthing the word "slut" to their global audience as Yvonne snatched at her breaths and cried as wave after wave of relief cascaded through the lithe teenager.
Yvonne begged her partner to stop; grunting as his glistening fingers withdrew from her sopping pussy and he pressed them to her lips; she sucked them, making exaggerated noises as she licked them clean.
But she was erotic; every action made my agonising erection stronger and dozens of men had "come loads" from her show, typing lewd messages in the window. Yvonne loved it, replying to the consumers of her erotic entertainment by talking to them through the camera.
And the donations poured in. Within three or four minutes of thinly-disguised promises and obscene lasciviousness, the teenager's lips were bobbing up and down on her partner's veiny cock. She was close to her target; tantalisingly getting the last forty tokens by drawing her partner into a stiff erection.
Her tongue wiggled against his frenulum; his face twisted into a mass of pleasure as her lips sucked on the glans and slid over the shaft. She loved it; her hand frigging her cunt as her lips pressed against Bobby's prick, and all broadcast in salacious HD.
Until the buzzer sounded, and her eyes met the camera with a twinkle. Bobby's hands went to her breasts, rubbing against her nipples as she twisted on the bed, lying back.
Bobby grabbed her ankles, holding them above her waist as his cock pressed against the entrance of her cunt and he pushed in gently. She gasped; her hands returned to her nipples as I captured all of the bed, eager to get the entire scene into the viewfinder.
Yvonne whimpered and squealed; the warm room was heavy with the sounds and smells of lust as Bobby grunted with every thrust, pushing his prick deep into the glistening slit of his friend. She savoured every stroke of his cock, filling the young lady with desperate lustful sensations that caused her cunt to sparkle and her nipples to engorge.
Her body glowed; moisture glistened on her skin as Bobby plowed her cunt relentlessly, thrusting deep into her exhibitionist body with forceful penetration that had her eyes swimming with desperate lust. He was bringing the little slut nearer and nearer to orgasm, as she felt every push by his thick cock.
But before she could come for a third time, he withdrew, panting as several streaks of cum lined her stomach. She pushed her head back on the duvet, smiling at the camera and running her fingers through the white pearlescent goo.
"Hmmmm," she cried, bringing the stringy semen to her lips and sucking her fingers clean. "I think I need some more sex. If you want me to get another man then keep donating guys!"
Her eyes met mine as Bobby slid from the bed, grinning at me as he quietly left the room, cum still dripping from his cock to walk to his flat's communal bathroom to get cleaned up. Yvonne purred lewdly at her clients, sucking her fingers clean and beckoning me to her side with the camera.
She pushed the last of her fingers into my lips, above the video equipment I was holding with a sly giggle. "Suck it," she whispered to the camera while I felt the salty unmistakeable taste of male arousal slide into my mouth.
It made me hornier. It made my cock rise further and for me to squirm in my panties. It made me want to rip off my clothes and take the teasing slut on the bed, pushing my cock into her stretched cunt and fuck the desperate pricktease with the all the vigour the coquette demanded.
I wanted her. But I could not have her. I was not allowed: my wife controlled my sex in our cuckold relationship and I had not been given permission.
My thoughts disappeared when the door to Bobby's bedroom was opened by a tall gentleman alongside Yvonne's co-star. Dressed in a blue dressing gown, the host introduced me to Darius, and the black man gave a cursory nod of his head as the door closed behind him.
His fleecy gown pooled on the floor as the door hit the latch and Yvonne beckoned the undressed man onto the bed, kissing him passionately. I returned the camera to the tripod, using my free hands to adjust my groin.
Darius was as hot as Yvonne, I ogled his completely hairless body as it glistened under the studio lights pointing at the bed. She ran her hands over his muscular body, bringing his cock to an erection with a gentle rub of his shaft and showed the camera the student's balls.
He looked at her; calm and unfazed. Confidence ran through his body as the dainty Scottish student sexily ran her fingers over his dark masculine flesh. Bobby typed on the laptop behind me, as we watched. The website sounded again and again as donations poured into Yvonne's account: eager to see two students fuck for their entertainment.
And Yvonne wanted to screw. I could see the lust gathering in her eyes as she lay on the bed, pulling Darius's foreskin back and exposing his glans.
He was big: not huge, but bigger than average, as she tugged at his smooth shaft and ran her mouth over his purple head. "So tasty," she whispered to the camera, running her tongue over her lips and whimpered towards the lens. "Let him fuck me with it. You want to see it don't you? You want to make this little slut happy. You want to make him fuck me, pound my cunt and make me scream into next week." Her head was angled, her eyes begging as the donations poured in and Bobby nodded towards her.
She plunged her mouth on his cock, sucking it eagerly as it came up to it's full erection. Darius pushed her off, drawing her legs up as he wordlessly pressed his cock into her fucked hole.
She gasped; groaning as Bobby smiled at me and walked around the light, kneeling on the bed to press his cock into Yvonne's mouth. She gobbled it eagerly, whimpering into his prick as the two men fucked her holes.
I could feel the lustful energy from behind the camera; my cock was desperate to be released from its fettered prison as the two men high-fived each other, grunting over her lithesome body.
She squealed underneath Bobby's prick, his manhood filling her mouth as he rocked against the back of her head. I slid up and down her body with the camera, capturing the parting of her cleft from Darius's meaty cock to the whimpering from her lips as Bobby face-fucked the delightful young lady.
Bobby came first, withdrawing his prick to splash cum over her face. She held her tongue out, eager to capture every drop of his semen that splattered against her her cheek and coated her hair.
She panted, taking the camera from me, and with the long cable streaking over her tits, focused on the grunting Darius pounding her pussy with deep thrusts that had her squealing and crying.
He looked so majestic: his muscles glistened in the hot room: desperately warm with the studio lights and physical exertion. His cock sparkled as it withdrew, coated with the luscious wetness of the Scottish coquette. His thighs pounded against hers as he held her ankle on his shoulder, filling her cunt with his large manhood.
Every thrust drew grunts louder and louder. Yvonne was panting, concentrating on the sparkling arousal in her cunt. Bobby and I watched spellbound; my erection was desperately erect as Darius grunted and withdrew, spilling his copious seed over the writhing woman. He swirled his fingers against her clit as Bobby took the camera from her, cap
turing her fourth orgasm for her fans.
She wiped Darius's semen from her stomach, licking her fingers clean and gestured towards Bobby. "I'm nearly done now, but there's one guy who should be thanked for making tonight possible," she said into the camera, rubbing her tits. She took the equipment from her friend and pointed it towards me. "Come here," she gestured and I gulped: I didn't want to be an Internet porn star.
But Yvonne kept my face away from the viewfinder and focused on my jeans. I said nothing as Bobby moved behind me and I felt hands on my waistband. "Oi," I cried. But it was too late.
"This is why he didn't get any!" She squealed as my hands tried in vain to cover my lacy crotch. "He is a panty-wearing cuckold!" I turned away as she giggled. “Such a little cock so we stick him behind the camera!”
She drew the camera towards her and blew a kiss towards her global fans, before she turned off the equipment.
"Did you have to do that?" I moaned and Yvonne shrugged.
"Your wife told me to," she replied and nodded towards the screen. "Your wife told me to use you as a photographer and then do that. She's watching!"
Darius leant against Bobby's wardrobe, slinging his dressing gown over his shoulders and nodding towards his friend. "Hey, love. If his wife wants a good time pass on my number." He made the briefest of eye contact with me; underlying his superior masculinity with a simple pat on the shoulder and disappeared through the door.
"You did look hard," Yvonne giggled as I fastened my jeans.
"Are you surprised?" I moaned, but she just shrugged and helped her friend to put his room back together; they had made almost £500 and she did some quick mental arithmetic as to how far that would stretch.
And when we got back our house and my wife was waiting with a grin on her face, I knew every word that Yvonne had said was true: I'd been teased.
And I got no relief that night.
It was all part of being a cuckold. The most gloriously evil of torments.
Chapter XVII
Erin's Request
I was teased and denied for most of the next week; Bryn was too. Erin took great delight in arranging for Yvonne to babysit one evening and then take me out to a bar where she picked up two guys and gave them two hours of pleasure while I was made to watch from the corner of Christina's spare bedroom.
It was incredibly erotic, and humiliating: watching my wife pleasure two random men, each one taking turns with my dearest beloved as I could do nothing but gaze helplessly.
The two men were accommodating, insofar as they allowed the cuckold husband of the slut they were screwing to be in the same room as them while their cocks plowed my wife's cunt. However, Erin's request for me to "fluff" was met with rejection, much to her disappointment.
We respected their boundaries, just as much as they respected our dynamic. It was mutual enjoyment: they got a slut to fuck in the evening; a delightful and beautiful young lady who was attuned to their every needs and desires.
She sucked their cocks, stroked their balls, and gave her cunt to their arousal as they brought her salacious pleasure and loud, vocal orgasms.
And I got to watch. I got to have my innermost submissive humiliated and my mind awash with the nastiness of their actions. I wasn't allowed to stroke my cock or do anything but watch and admire; adoring the degrading spectacle of my wife savouring the rigid cocks of the strangers.
For so many of my work colleagues, my family, my friends and anyone else, it would be tragic. To know or see their loved one take sexual pleasures in the arms and loins of another would be disastrous and no doubt spell the end of their marriage to their partner, but Erin and I revelled in the rampant depravity. It made us stronger.
But still, after a week of constant teasing and touching, two incredibly arousing sex scenes drawing my blood up and endless reminders of my predicament from my wife, I still had not come to orgasm and I was getting desperate.
My wife loved my whimperings as her fingers teased and denied my cock, laughing at the pity in my expression. I knew better than to beg. Instead she had a small request, her lips pouting as her touch danced over my naked cock.
"I want to see you spit-roasted." Her voice gentle and innocent as she glanced up my body at me. Her thumb rolled the pre-cum over my cock head, smirking as I whimpered and groaned.
"With you and Yvonne's strapons?" I closed my eyes as the arousal flooded my cock. It taunted me. My loins tensed, my insides sizzled as I savoured the thought of being dominated by two young ladies simultaneously.
I dreamt of the thick dildo strapped to my wife's waist, imagining the smooth texture of the rubber sex toy in my fingers as I slid lube up and down the shaft. I saw the smaller, textured cock of Yvonne standing alongside me, grabbing hold of my head and thrusting my face into the firm dong of the nymphomaniac.
My cock purred under her touch; my hips twisted in the bed, writhing and squirming as her finger daintily teased me.
"No," she whispered. "I want to see two men fuck you." My cock tensed with her words as she clasped my shaft, stroking my prick with a firm grip. "Two men to plunder your butt and your mouth as I watch. Gripping your waist and sliding aside your little pink panties and then thrusting his big, thick cock against your hole. Sliding lube into your butt and then violating your booty."
I gulped as she wanked me, tweaking my nipples with her other hand as I wriggled, savouring her steady movements on my aroused manhood.
"And just as your butt is filled and plundered his friend grabs your face, ramming his cock into your mouth, forcing you to suck his prick as he face fucks you. Brutally face-fucking you like the little slut you are. And all the time, I'm watching you, feeling every grunt and every thrust of their big cocks into my man. Smelling the unmistakeable aroma of lube as the muscular men take my husband, treating you as little more than a couple of fuck holes for their meat."
Her thumb swirled over my glans, her fingers squeezed my nipples into a blissful swarm of pain. She knew what she was doing, whispering her fantasy into my ear as her body drew my arousal from my loins.
"I want you to fuck men like Bryn does. I want you to be as desperate for cock as I am, thinking of them, dreaming of them, wanting them, adoring them, loving them. I've seen how you go down on Bryn: you enjoy the feel of his warm cock in your mouth and the feel of his smooth prick sliding over your lips. I know you do. I know you love to push your tongue under his foreskin and swirl over his dick-head. I know it makes you hard to have him come in your mouth and you swallow it. I know it makes you hard just thinking about it."
It was true; my cock was on tenterhooks, my mind awash with horniness as she painted the scene in my imagination. I imagined the delightful sight of Bryn standing and waiting with his cock, exhibiting himself for me to sate his desires. And it made me horny. Very horny. Desperate to come and floating with arousal.
"And I know much you loved the strapon. Just imagine that being a cock. A thick, meaty, horny cock to split your arse and bugger you senseless. A muscular beast of a man pulling your butt onto his rigid member and stroking your prostate as he fucks you mercilessly: fervidly thrusting his epic manhood into you. Hearing you whimper as his cock quivers and he fills his condom. Because of your butt. Because of you. Because of me, demanding that you satisfy her friends as she watches the homosexual display in front of her."
I gulped, panting loudly as my lust neared it's pinnacle: so close to orgasm. So very close.
But then she stopped and cackled. "Maybe another time." I groaned. I almost begged, and I whined. She cackled for a while before grabbing her hairbrush and turning me over to deliver a brutal number of swats onto my exposed rump.
I screamed and she stuffed some underwear into my mouth, laughing as the rigid black brush landed painfully on my defenceless rear.
Agony. Unrelenting pain swept through my body as my skin burned. I cried and begged again; pleading with her to stop.
But I didn't want her to. Not really. I loved my wife so very much and adore
d her dominant side. I lived for her control and savoured her acts of humiliation and air of superiority. It made me feel small and it made me love her all the more. I feel deeper into my torment, crying from every strike of hairbrush as she smacked the brush harder and harder into my blistering skin.
When she stopped, we cuddled, kissing and holding each other to slowly drift off asleep.
My backside was still painful the following day and my wife laughed when I walked to our en-suite with the glowing redness of my buttocks. "Perhaps I was a bit mean," she conceded as I felt the cool pain of my abused body.
But I thought about little else all day. I always did when I was battered by my wife: the silky smoothness of my knickers rubbed seductively against the bruised buttocks and the pain reminded me of my wife.
Of course, the picture messages I got of her sitting in a hotel room with Christina and three men I did not know was followed by pictures of cocks sliding into cunts, mouths and arses and I was certain Bryn was receiving similar reminders of his wife's salacious antics.
My wife continued to tease and deny; drawing me into an excited fervour and then withdrawing all stimulation. She talked about "Mikey" and "Danny" fucking her all lunchtime, or a threesome with Christina and her friend. Or the state of her office when a particularly randy gentleman had signed the contract and had celebrated with a rough screw against the wall.
And she loved to give all the details: the smoothness of the cock, the thrust of their hips, the delicate flavour of their cum or the firmness of their buttocks. She whispered them seductively to me, recalling her stories in intimate details as I writhed beside her, feeling her hand close around my firm cock, so desperate for her to bring me to much needed relief.
She promised that I would be allowed to orgasm on Friday night, which started when Erin and Christina left Bryn and I alone as we babysat my children; we watched a Disney film with popcorn. They were knackered when I put them into their beds, tucking my little monsters underneath their duvets as Bryn poured me a beer in the kitchen and waited by a small white envelope.