My husband wanted me fucked. It was his fantasy to have me full of cum like a sloppy whore. Though you might not be able to guess this by looking at me at work--as an assciate professor of English at the local university, I love to be fucked. Fortunately, I'm blessed with aattractive features, dark brown hair and blue eyes, and a body that I keep fit at the gym. And... we had a willing third party who also played to my darker needs. When my husband told me this morning that he wanted me to be a slut tonight I told him I’d make the arrangements.
I called Scott before ten that morning. My heart, as usual, was racing. “Sir, this is Lisa. May I visit you this evening?” I tried to make my voice firm and steady, but it was useless.
“I have plans this evening.” No hello, no greeting. I knew the routine however. My body and mind was already responding to his voice.
“Please. May I please come visit? I promise I won’t be any trouble.” I really wouldn’t be. I just needed him to fuck me, to make the ache go away. I would be good.
There was a long silence. I began to think he may really say no.
“Be here at six, Little One.” And he hung up. Little One. The one gift he gave me verbally. A pet name, an endearment.
I spent most of the afternoon getting ready. I bathed and shaved my pussy closely. I lotioned my whole body in a light scent and I dressed in a flattering pink dress with a bra and a new pair of thongs. I painted my nails in a soft color and wore nice heels. I applied just a little make up, but I made sure to put on lipstick.
On the drive to Scott’s industrial apartment, my pussy was positively soaking. I was afraid that my juice would leave a spot on my dress. I only saw a few people as I walked into the building and I made myself, willed myself, to seem normal---like I did this everyday. I took the elevator up to the fourth story and got out in hall, right in front of Scott’s apartment. I took a deep breath and looked at my watch. 5:57. Too early. I waited in the hall, even when a couple of Scott’s neighbors looked at me oddly as they got on the elevator. Still, I knew the rules. At six sharp, I knocked on the door. Three raps.
I waited some more. My breath was fast and short.
Finally the door opened. He was so beautiful. Tall, rugged. Dressed in jeans and a white tee shirt. A gold watch glinted on his wrist. His eyes were brown and sultry. I could not stare at him, but I did sneak a look. His shoulders seemed twice as broad as my own and I smelled his rich scent as I entered. I stepped just inside the door and stopped.
“That dress is ridiculous. Take it off.” He said. His voice causing waves of desire to course through my body. I slipped the dress over my head. He was contemplating my body. I hung the dress on the coatrack in the entranceway. “Take off the rest of it. Leave the shoes.”
I took off my bra and slid out of my thongs. He was usually abrupt, but he usually spoke more.
When I stood straight again, he slipped a leather choker around my neck. It had a leash attached to it. I was unused to this. My hands began to shake. I looked at him and then away, quickly. He noticed.
“Stupid slut.” He muttered. He walked towards the living room and said over his shoulder, “I told you I was busy.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, but I was either going to follow him or become unbalanced. I walked behind him. My skin was cold and my heels clicked on his floor.
We rounded the hall and entered the spacious living room and there sat a beautiful blonde woman. I immediately went to cover myself with my hands. How dare he! She laughed, and Scott spun around to me. He saw my ridiculous attempt to cover my tits and my pussy and he reached out and slapped me across the face. It was all the warning I needed. I would get used to this, yes. Or I would suffer. Scott could be cruel. Nonetheless, my thighs were slippery with my juice.
He made me kneel beside the coffee table. I sat back on my feet and opened my palms on my thighs. He secured the leash to a hook attached to the heavy table. When he sat down by the woman and picked up a wineglass, I knew that I was in for a very long evening.
He ignored me. So did she. Had she known I was coming? She certainly didn’t seem to care. They talked in whispers and kissed a great deal. Then he started taking off her clothes! I was aching with the need for his touch. My face where he’d slapped me was feeling tender. Her body was as beautiful as her face and hair. Bronze skin and tits that women envy, round and firm. Scott’s clothes were off too. He was so casual with her, teasing and smiling. All ways he never behaved when he was with me. He stood up to take his jeans off and he wore no underwear. At least I got to watch the pants slide down his muscular legs. His ass was tight. He had no tan lines. His dick was thick and long and pointed right at this blonde. He sat back on the couch and she straddled him. His hands seemed to engulf her ass, as he pulled her down onto his member. Surely he wasn’t going to fuck her and not me? My husband would be angry if I came home without being filled. He liked to pull down my panties and see cum puddled in them.
I watched them fuck. It grew fully dark outside, but the lamplight was enough to see everything. He fingered her ass and rhythmically as he pumped her cunt. She was yelling his name and sometimes biting him on the neck. I could tell when she came, finally, because she threw her head back and absolutely ground her mound against him. He held her in place and seemed to shove himself even more into her. He leaned his head just a little and we made eye contact. He was cumming. And not in me. He grinned.
He was evil!
I was so embarrassed to be there. When Jennifer had regained some composure, she sat, legs splayed on the sofa. “I hear you want some cum.” She said. She giggled. “You can come get this,” and she pointed to her crotch. Wet, and red. Swollen with use. Scott kissed her on the mouth and then stood up and untied my leash. “Crawl over there. Eat her pussy.”
What? I never agreed to this! I’ve never so much as touched a woman sexually. I couldn’t move. He bent over and pinched my nipple so hard that I yelped. His mouth was at my ear. “Do it, slut, or you will be sorry.”
I had a feeling that I was already sorry, but I made myself crawl to her. She opened her legs wider, fingering her own pussy. She held a dripping finger out to me and said, “Suck it.” I put my lips over her finger and tasted salty sweetness. Her and him. “That’s a good girl.”
Scott yanked on the leash. I knew what I was to do. I was on my knees in front of her and lowered my head to her clit. My dark hair fell and shielded my face from view. Thank god. I reached out tentatively. My tongue tipped her clit. Nothing horrible happened, so I pushed my tongue out more and licked her, right between her swollen folds, right up to her clit. I could smell Scott there. It made me want to lap it up. The next stroke of my tongue found her hole and brushed all the way up. It was hot, soaking wet, and it tasted so good. I stuck my tongue right into her and heard her moan.
Scott was behind me. I felt him kneel down behind my exposed ass. Without warning his fingers were in my cunt. At least three. I bucked back against him so satisfied, finally, to be touched. But he slapped my ass HARD and told my to be still. It was very hard. He then took the hand that had slapped my ass and he used it to push my face deeper into Jennifer’s gyrating pussy. I sucked and licked and tongue fucked her for all I was worth and I felt her tighten and cum on my mouth! I was so pleased that I relinquished myself to the attention Scott’s fingers were giving me and I pushed back against my pleasure. Immediately he withdrew his hand.
“I told you to be still.” He was so sarcastic. I expected something…anything. Another slap? But he stood up, retied my leash to the hook and helped Jennifer stand up.
He tenderly helped her get dressed. I had to back out of their way so that my hands wouldn’t be stepped on. He had put on his jeans, but I watched his muscles move even with the small effort of buttoning Jennifer’s blouse and stroking her hair from her face. They were smiling and giggling like the satisfied lovers they were. Without a word to me they walked out of the room.
I heard the front door open and I waited. Apparently he had walked her to the elevator? To the lobby? He was a long time in returning. At least it felt long.
I felt used. Laughed at. Teased. Had she gotten the fuck I had come for? I felt ridiculous sitting in Scott’s living room with a collar and a leash.
I wasn’t sure why, but I started to cry. Quietly. I felt hopeless. I hadn’t gotten what I wanted. I was aching inside and then I’d probably disappoint my husband to boot.
After some time Scott walked back into the room and sat on the couch to look at me.
He snorted, “I fuck someone else and you cry? Or are you crying because you ate pussy?
I shrugged. I didn’t know.
“Well, I’m hungry. I’m going to untie you and let you go cook my supper. There is shrimp in the fridge. I want a simple pasta.” He untied me. I had cooked for him before.
With the leash dangling, and still naked, I stir fried the shrimp in garlic and butter, added some chicken broth and seasoning and put the whole thing over some cooked angel hair. I set his place in his dining room. He told me to sit in the chair beside him. I was not to eat.
He read the paper as he ate. He ignored me. It was growing late and I was really beginning to worry.
When he finished, after some time, he pushed his plate away and set down the paper.
It was a simple command and I stood and went to him. Without warning he shoved three fingers up my pussy.
“You are so fucking wet. I think you already got fucked before you came over here.” His tone was harsh.
“No, sir. No.
“Lying bitch.” He turned me quickly and without warning, I was suddenly bent over the table with my ass exposed to him. He fingered my from behind and then tasted his fingers. “I’m sure that’s cum.”
“No. No, sir.” I tried to explain. He would not have me if I had been with another man. He likes his women clean.
“Lying slut. Why should I believe you?!” He asked. He had a hand on my back, pushing me down on the table.
“I’m just wet, sir.”
“Yeah, whores are always wet.” He brought his hand down and slapped me on the ass. He removed his hand from my back and shoved his middle finger into my ass---the same finger he’d had in Jennifer’s ass a couple of hours ago. I thought I might cum right there, but he began to spank me in earnest for being the whore he said I was.
Every time his hand stung my ass checks, it also pushed and pressed the finger that was in my ass. His forearm stretched up my back, keeping me as still as the finger that held my whole body in place. He exerted himself so much with my punishment that he began to glisten with sweat.
“Say it!” He demanded.
I was in pain, my feet were barely able to stay on the floor with the walloping I was receiving, but I knew what he wanted me to say.
“I’m a slut.” I cried. My ass was on fire. My hipbones were bruised from banging into the table. I wanted my punishment to stop.
“Louder!” Smack! Smack! Smack!
I was crying hard by now, but I got the words out again, “I’m a slut, Sir. I’m a stupid, dirty slut!”
And then he showed mercy as I cried with my face pressed into the wood of the table. His hand fell to his side and without warning he jerked his finger from where it had been embedded in my ass. I couldn’t move for crying and being exhausted from the beating. He must have slapped my ass over one hundred times. I was sure the red marks would be with me for days.
I felt him move behind me. His hands grabbed my stinging ass cheeks and push me against the table while spreading me apart at the same time. I felt the tip of his dick at my hole. He was toying with me.
“Why would I want to fuck such a pathetic slut?” He asked. “You saw the type of woman I can get. Why should I fuck you?
I didn’t know what to say. I just wanted him in me so bad! “Please? Please, Sir, please fuck me.”
Oh, I did sound pathetic, but I was throbbing for him to take me. My whole cunt felt hot and tight, as though I would implode.
When he shoved his wide, long dick into me in one smooth, hard push I cried, again, with relief. His hands held me as firmly as he had held Jennifer, impaling me on his cock. He stoked long and hard and when that rhythm settled me into a smooth back and forth rock along the top of his table, he grabbed my hands and used his strength and my arms to pull me against him as he rammed into me. I thought I may pass out with the pleasure. It was exquisite. He pulled me so hard that my body rose off the top of the table. I was nearly suspended, quite literally from his dick.
He did not tire easily. My body was slammed by his for a long time before he let go of my arms. I was nearly limp, but I responded quickly enough when Scott reached around and grabbed my nipple in a hard pinch. He pulled me in this way until I turned around and was facing him. He sat in his chair and pulled on my tit until I straddled him, my legs going over his and down the sides of the chair. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rode his dick. His body was incredible and his hands bore me down on him. It wasn’t long before I felt a warm tingling that started in my thighs and worked its way up into my crotch where it condensed and tightened into a fabulous and pulsating pressure. I came like crazy! And in middle of this wave of heat, his dick slammed even harder into me and I felt a jet of hot cum let loose inside of me. His face was in my tits, buried there and nipping at my skin. I held onto him tightly until we were both finished.
He allowed a moment of just me holding onto him before he told me to get up because it was time for me to go.
I was heady with what had just happened—the spanking and the fuck. He was so much more intense tonight. I gingerly got to my feet and headed to the door. Once there my entrance was simply reversed. He removed the leash and hung it on the coatrack and I donned my bra, thongs, and dress. I ran my fingers through my hair and was ready to go.
He stood in front of me, tipping my face up to look into his. Finally, just as I was getting ready to go home, I was allowed to look squarely at this handsome face. “Are you satisfied Little One?” He asked.
Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.
I only nodded, for some reason I did not trust my voice to be there. His eyes probed into mine. I felt weak.
He touched my hair, the only gentle gesture I was to receive all evening from him this evening. “Don’t forget to call me, Little One.” He said, as he opened the door for me to leave.
I would call. I always did.