Cuckold Cock
I constantly remind my girlfriend of my Cuckold Cock fantasy of wanting to watch her suck or fuck another guy. We fantasise this regularly. We’ve never done it. She feels too guilty.
Recently we got into Cuckold Cock cages and I teased her while caged getting her juices going in the hope that if she doesn’t have the key, she might scream for another Cuckold Cock and give in to my fantasy.
I’ve even met another guy, Marc on a swinging site, who would be into fooling around with us, and although still she won’t relent, I think slowly, she was actually beginning to consider it.
Maybe I could actually persuade her to do it in the heat of the moment. And then one night, I imagined the following scenario, where she got mad and the following happened. That’s how I came to write :
‘Until he gets here
We’re fooling around. I have oil out and whoops. You turn round in a rage because I spilled a lot of massage oil on the sheets. You look daggers at me and thwack me across the cheek. I pull back shocked. You smile devilishly, coyly. You leap in quickly, overpowering me and before I realise, you have slipped the handcuffs on me. Where is your phone? You bark. ‘Over there’ I nod to the right. ‘What are you doing I say? Shut up! You say and you slap me hard.
You grab it. Want to watch me suck some Cuckold Cock you say? It’s about time we did this. You find Marc’s number. You message. You show me the screen. ‘Come round if you want her to suck your Cuckold Cock, it says. Immediately!!
There are a few minutes while you come up close to me. ‘When you see what I’m gonna do with him you’re gonna regret asking for this. I’m gonna make you watch up close and personal. Might make you join in. You squeeze my Cuckold Cock. There is a message binging in response.
‘Address please ‘. You send it. Another bing. A moment later you say :
‘ He says he’ll over in a half hour. Time to get me warmed up and you made to suffer some more. So until he gets here You’re my bitch! I am gonna make you suffer! There is venom in your voice You frogmarch me over to the doorway and you string me by the neck by the very strapping I had hoped to suspend you with. How do you like that? you exclaim. Hoisted by your own petard!!! I start to protest but you shove the ball gag in my mouth making me drool and gurgle.
You grab a blindfold and I’m plunged into darkness. You twist my nipples and slap me again. I’m becoming disoriented. Then you retrieve a new riding crop you’ve bought from the drawer. You start spanking my ass with one hand and you
come down hard on my dick with the crop. Right on the end. The sensitive part. ‘Whoa I holler..steady steady’
‘Be quiet you fucker, ‘ you scream. This is payback. I’ve had enough of you beating me and using me like I’m your plaything. It’s my turn.. you continue to beat me. Then you stop…
Hmmm you say. One more thing. I hear you scrabble about, say ‘ here we go ‘and I feel something taught and tight go round my balls. Another elastic thing goes round the base of my Cuckold Cock and I can feel the tightness as the blood flow is restricted. You whack the end of my Cuckold Cock again. Aaaaaaaargh. You bitch. I say. Then the ring and the metal Cuckold Cock cage goes on. I’m squashed into it and the padlock clicks.
Awww sorry babe did that hurt your Cuckold Cocky wocky…oh dear.too bad so sad, and you give me another sharp rap with the crop. I recoil.
Then you take the crop and you apply it hard to my ass cheeks. There is several minutes intense spanking but the pain is lessening as you go on especially as you stoop a bit and suck kiss and pinch my nipples. Then you kiss me hard, release me and slap my face hard again. Harder than you ever have before. Ooooooh gaaaaawd I sharply exclaim.
Then comes a stream of sharp riding crop thwacks on my ass cheeks.
‘Are you enjoying this you whore?’ I gurgle through the ball gag. You fucker. I am gonna really do you when you’re done here. ‘
Ha ha you say. No way. I am gonna reduce you to a quivering, pleading mess!!
You spank me again with the crop and my knees buckle in recoil, causing pressure on my neck strap and I almost choke. You help me up, squeezing my nipples and pulling me upright.
You start to follow the subspace spanking protocol and my ass stings as you increase frequency and amplitude of your beating. I am howling in
submission but you persist until the time is up. You must have hit me around a hundred times in level 1. The pain is intense and I am breathing heavily and sweating. When you finish you stroke my ass and start kissing me and your bad cop becomes good cop as you soothe my nipples and fondle my Cuckold Cock stroking my ass cheeks, saying ‘ there’s a good boy… ‘
You slowly move down and suck my nipples. My Cuckold Cock is throbbing inside the cage with the Cuckold Cock ring bands on. It is moving up and down in a very small erectorial arc. I am groaning with the pleasure of everything you’re doing. You go down further and flick the head of my Cuckold Cock with your tongue, give it a few ice cream licks and a suck, all the time fondling nipples and ass. It’s very soothing. Then after a minute, thwack, your crop hits my Cuckold Cock hard, like in the video I sent you. Owwwwweee. ‘Just topping you up, you sick bastard’, you cackle.
This really hurts and stings but it soon goes away. This follows for another five minutes with sucking, fondling biting and one strike per min on my Cuckold Cock and buttocks, keeping the sensations going. I groan and moan. You ramp it up again. Every so often you remind me that Marc is coming, and that I probably won’t be coming, that you’re gonna suck his Cuckold Cock right in front of my face whether I like it or not. I holler and gasp in pain as the beating continues.
Cuckold Cock
“In general, how many fingers do you prefer?” Gen raises a dark Bree bottle and asks in his slightly seductive German accent.
I guess “three,” not really understanding the question.
He takes a glass that looks like a tulip and pours some water into it.
He laughs and says, “You won’t need that much with this stuff.”
I’m nervously shaking my leg as I sit on his sofa’s tacky tapestry. Or on the other hand perhaps the couch is delightful and I simply have no taste or class. I have no idea who George T. Stagg is and everything in his house seems out of my price range.
Gen smiles at me as he hands me the glass. I can hear his better half amassing around higher up.
“This is a 2010,” he says, shaking the jug’s tusks side to side. ” It was championed by F. Paul Pacult as the world’s number one spirit, becoming the first to defeat the highly favored Highland Park 18 since 2005.
I can hear him pouring another glass as he returns to the bar.
“One hundred 43 proof. One of the finest bourbons ever produced. It’s delivered once yearly and sells out rapidly. I was blessed with the opportunity to purchase four bottles. I’m only doing this for the second time.”
He gives the glass a thorough sniff to let the smell settle: Earthy colored sugar,” he moans, affectionately. ” Brown sugar and maybe maple syrup,” he inhales once more as he searches the distance for an answer. a lot like dessert.” As he swirls the glass, the Bree flits about. The complex harsh crush waits on his sensitive range as he attempts to distinguish the notes, gulping it and smacking on the persistent flavor. ” Root beer, ahh! When he figures it out, he smiles.
“What do you think? What do you think of it? he ask, pivoting to see I’d proactively shot the beverage, gripping my chest. The Scoville-busting Bree is burning a hole in my chest, and I try to act cool, but my body gives in and I start grunting heavily and heaving quickly.
***
2012
It was one more hot September in the Valley, my second since I moved to Los Angeles. I arbitrarily jumped on the Metro transport from where I was remaining in North Hollywood to ride around carelessly, thinking about my life and choices I’ve made that got me to this point. I would turn 25 in a few days, and it served as yet another reminder of where I believed I would be at that age. As of late, I’d been terminated from my work and because of byzantine practices by upper administration, I’d been denied joblessness benefits.
Between the fury against my ex-bosses, the pressure of not in any event, having the option to get a new line of work that paid even $10 an hour and the acknowledgment that I may be returning to home base soon qas one more bombed measurement, my downturn made the sedatives taste like Skittles. I couldn’t even point to the bad part of the dream to try to fix it because it had died. Just arrived here.
I just landed here in Studio City at this magazine stand. I don’t for a moment even got off the transport. Colin Kaepernick, a member of the San Francisco 49ers, appeared on the cover of GQ while clutching his gold and red helmet. His Louis Vuitton jacket cost $4,600. While I was rationing Ramen and weighing the risk of spending $11.99 on a fifth of Evans Williams within BevMo!, he was my age and on the verge of a nine-figure contract.
Holding out an expensive-looking bottle of Bree, a tall white man says, “If you like that, you’ll love this.” Presently for around a similar value, you can get tantamount whiskey, my better half by and by favors Jack Daniel’s Single Barrel Select, however to my range, Woodford Hold Twofold Oaked is flawlessness. It’s my go-to.”
I grin and toss him a laugh, recognizing his skill and make a move to one side, however he and his Armani Dark cloud follows me.
“Evan Williams is perfect at the cost, as well,” says the one who clearly has no understanding of individual space. ” However, every man has the right to treat his taste buds each once in for some time. Moreover, my name is Gen.”
He vigorously extends his hand. My body language screams “Leave me the fuck!” and I don’t enjoy having in-depth conversations with strangers from out of the blue. I moan at his confidence, yet my southern habits grasps his palm. At last gazing directly toward him, I notice he’s a really appealing person; more established, salt and pepper mane, faultlessly prepared, slim mustache, amazing in that George Clooney sort of way. I suddenly became very open to his alcoholism knowledge.
I acted interested in the overpriced spirits I’d never waste money on so long as Burnett’s could still make my Adam’s Apple do jumping jacks and fuck me up as Gen chewed my ear off for the next half hour with his encyclopedic knowledge of proof counts, rankings, and comparisons.
He makes the offer, “I’ve racked up a lot of points on my card this month. Allow me to buy you a bottle just for listening to me go blabber on.” I don’t even try to act reluctant when I give it to him.
As we walk back to his car, he keeps my bottle in the bag.
“Do you have a sweetheart?” He asks.
I shook my head negatively and wondered if I would have to blow him in the back of the dumpster in retaliation; since I would.
We’ve been married for a long time, my wife and I. You know, our relationship is just like any other relationship. It has it’s promising and less promising times and for quite a while it was truly down. especially since our youngest child went to college. It’s as if there was no longer a reason for us to be together. Incessant arguments over nothing, and a lot of silence.
Hell, we didn’t even talk to each other for years. We fostered this approach to managing one another.” He shakes the clunking paper pack he’s raising in his arms. ” Since we were teenagers, we have been together. In the late 1980s, moved here from Stuttgart to start our family. We’re left with one another until the end of our lives,” he moans and shakes his head. ” Discouraging idea, as a matter of fact. Kid, never tie the knot.”
He approaches me more closely. That entire thing he doesn’t get a handle on.
“However, we’ve been trying this new thing, y’know, in recent times. really brought our relationship back to life. We have been allowing other people into our sexual lives recently. I enjoy watching my wife get sex with black men.
I was completely emotionless and slightly dissatisfied with the course of events. His twisted Pepe Le Pew mustache should have told me he was into something like this. I’m as of now not a colossal enthusiast of vagina but rather the prospect of artifact pussy makes my dick shrink and rearrange, so I requested him for my jug from Evan so I could go flounder on my lounge chair.
“Normally we track down folks on Craigslist or Backpage,” he keeps, talking past my dismissal. ” Yet, those circumstances can turn into a little…uhh,” he shakes his hand from one side to another. ” We don’t really know the guys, their motives, or whether or not they will rob us.
I recoil.
“…However, you appear to be such a nice guy, and you’re exactly our type,”
I’m entertained at the fascination. My face’s skin was beginning to peel off. It was beginning to show that I was taking more pills than food. Also, I wasn’t the very Mandingo of individuals’ organized BBC dreams.
I’m still on the edge, so he starts pleading, “I have some really top shelf stuff back at my house, really impressive bourbon.” Furthermore, I can truly make it worth your time and energy. You’ll get paid. Maybe…$200.”
This removed me totally from the edge. He smiled when I looked him in the eye.
“Will you give me $200 to smear your wife?” Incredulous, I ask.
He shakes his head positively.
“Exactly what is the scope of this session?” I ask, claiming to have ethics.
“Business as usual. You just let her blow you up and fucked her while I watched.
“This is all the way strange,” I answer. ” However, for $200, I’ll screw the gossamers out her pussy.”
*** Indeed, gossamers!
When I look down, my dick is brick-hard and pulsing with varicose veins—the Cialis must have worked. Gen’s wife is on all fours, bent over, wearing a plus-size beer girl costume with a sagging blouse and a high-waisted skirt. A blessing was holding on to the girdle’s strings.
I close my eyes and use my imagination as her brown, crusty asshole keeps blinking at me. After he fines me for my soggy dollar bills, I recall the Colombian go-go dancer from RAGE who doesn’t pay me a single iota of attention. Then, at that point, I ponder the Lebanese model on Instagram who doesn’t realize I exist, despite the fact that I determine the status of his life more frequently than my own relatives.
The German howl slices through my viewpoints and the quiet Studio City night. This was not a romantic session with long, slow Jodeci stokes and booming ambient jams on the radio. While holding a small key in my jagged teeth, I grab a slab of loose flesh and thrust as hard as I can in the hope that it will speed things up.
Her howls start to transform into theatricality. With the exception of his stubby Cuckold Cock erection, which is Cuckold Cock bulging Cuckold Cock purple from the inside of a metal Cuckold Cock cock cage, Gen is sitting across from her on an end Cuckold Cock chair that we moved into the Cuckold Cock bedroom. The only thing that prevents him from being Cuckold Cock satisfied is a Cuckold Cock small brass Cuckold Cock padlock clutched between my Cuckold Cock incisors, which keeps the Cuckold Cock chastity device closed. He gazes seriously at it for some time and afterward continues on toward her.