“Now we wake him,” I said, to his great surprise. I picked up my glass of wine and dipped my fingers in, then flicked a few drops in Alan’s face.
The first time he didn’t stir; the second time he tossed his head slightly; on the third occasion his tongue came out and he lazily licked his lips.
“Come on, you fucker, wake up,” I muttered, flicking more wine at him, and he gave a low murmur of appreciation as he lapped up the liquid from around his mouth.
“He’s waking. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” said Robert, and in answer I set down the glass of wine, curled my fingers around his cock and began to stroke him.
More incoherent noises came from Alan, his head tossed, his mouth gaped, his eyes fluttered slowly open, blinking a time or two, then seemed to pop as he finally focused on me sitting naked on the policeman’s knee.
“What –?” he began, then tried to rise, found himself tied and so thrashed about in the chair. “What the hell is going on?”
“Be quiet and be still, Alan,” I calmly told him, not looking down at Robert’s cock but feeling it growing ever larger in my hand, knowing that its state would be obvious to him.
“I demand –” Alan tried, but I cut him off sharply.
“No, Alan, you do not demand! Ever! That’s the whole fucking point! You neither make demands nor satisfy them.”
“What are you going on about, Kathleen?” he asked. “And you, get your fucking hands off my wife!” he snarled at Robert.
“I think you’ll find it’s she who has her hands on me,” Robert answered back, smiling.
“You are the weak man Robert described, Alan,” I continued. “That being the case, it is left to me to make the demands, which I shall do. I am going to show you what I will demand of you. Pay attention, Alan. Watch and learn.”
Slipping from Robert’s knee, I slid to the floor, resting my body against his chair. Regarding his swollen cock for a moment, bending it at a delightful angle, to bring a gasp from him and the better for my husband to see, I then raised my free hand to my face.
“Remember when I used to do this for you, Alan?” I said, and, looking directly into his eyes, I licked the palm of my hand, lapped the flat of my tongue slowly across it. “You used to love me doing this, didn’t you?”
When I stroked my moist palm over the head of Robert’s cock I heard a low groan. It could have been either man or it could have been both, but I didn’t bother to check, simply lowered my mouth onto the erection, fastened my lips onto it, took it between my teeth.
One thing I was aware of, though, was that there were no longer any protests from my husband. Perhaps he was, indeed, watching and learning, and I revelled in the power I now had over both these men. I could make Robert come at any moment I chose, of that I was certain, and just as sure that afterwards I could do whatever I liked with my husband.
Slipping Robert’s cock from my mouth, rising on my knees, I grinned as I folded my breasts around it, trapping it between them, then ground my body against him.
“Come for me, Robert, show Alan how it’s done,” I said, my eyes fixed on his, insisting, and he gave a loud sob as he spurted between my breasts.
I kept his cock trapped between my breasts for long seconds, a minute, more, holding it there until I was sure every last spasm of his orgasm had subsided, down to the very slightest twitch. Then I leaned back, turned slowly to face my husband, to let him see the spunk glistening between my breasts, then dipped a finger into it and wiped it across my mouth, moistening my lips.
On my knees I began to move towards Alan, my hands caressing my breasts as I inched closer, smearing them with Robert’s milky emission.
“Now you’re going to lick my breasts clean, Alan, and keep your eyes fixed on mine as you do it,” I told him, and though he made no reply he was unable to look away from me.
I laughed softly, then got to my feet and stood before him, above him. I bent to plant a sticky kiss on his mouth and then offered my breasts to his lips.
“You have the right to remain silent,” I told him, “but I must warn you that anything you say may be taken down and used against you.”
Endnote
(1 I was worried I’d crossed the line with her, that I damaged her flesh beyond $100 and a $50 tip. I emailed her about it and she replied: “Not at all. If you had gone too far I would have TOLD YOU. Oh, my ass is really black and blue, YOU. It’s beyond my skin and muscle, it’s a bruise right down to the bone. It hurts to sit. That’s so COOL-IO!)
The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions Page 58