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With that Moira raised my chin a little and slid down the bed just a
fraction. Before I had time to think her mound was pressing on my mouth. I
found my tongue beginning to work on her, opening her luscious passage way.
Inexpertly I fought to breathe and pleasure my dominant woman at the same
time. Then I tasted the spunk. It was true, he really had filled her up. She
was full of it. Thick, stringy blobs of cum plastered my lips, and I was
forced to drink it down. The taste wasn’t too bad, but the thought that this
was another man’s milk I was sucking from my own wife’s cunt had my prick
rock hard. How I wanted to get on top of Moira and plunge my own weapon into
her hole, joining my own liquid to his. I thought about my own, apparently
rather slim and inadequate, penis sliding through the semen-rich slickness
of Moira’s vagina, but I had to accept it wouldn’t be allowed.
Eventually Moira came and pronounced herself satisfied that I’d proved my
loyalty to her. “This is only the beginning though,” she was keen to
explain. “I’ve got plans to keep my little husband a proper, respectable,
chaste little husband, and I’m sure he’ll enjoy them! There are ways for
wives to keep cuckolded husbands happy and faithful which will still allow
me to keep my promise to Federico. They may seem a bit strange at first, but
I’m sure you’ll come to thank me for keeping you in a permanent state of
sexual tension. You and I may be going on a little shopping trip tomorrow,
so bring your credit cards darling; I want to spend some of our money on
keeping you happy!”
With that I was told to go to sleep now, but though Moira was soon
peacefully sleeping, and I was totally exhausted from the previous few hours
of nervous tension and lack of sleep, my aching balls just would not let me
rest. That and the thought of what on earth it might be that Moira want’d to
buy me tomorrow! One thing was clear to me though: I had just let Moira take
charge of my life, humiliate me in ways which most men would never accept,
and yet I felt only a profound happiness, almost elation, conquering what
remained of my infantile jealousy. Moira had promised to keep me hers
forever if I obeyed her, and that was all that mattered to me!
Originally posted 2007-12-21 19:24:15. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
Seeing my wife of just under two weeks leave the disco with her lover
brought me out of my state of shock somewhat. I was embarassingly conscious
of my semen-soaked trousers, and whilst I was pretty sure nobody would see
anything in the poor light of the disco, I headed back to our honeymoon room
trembling at the knees with excitement at what I had experienced. As I
cleaned myself up and got ready for bed I thought about what the stranger in
the disco would now be doing to Moira, my wife. I couldn’t get the thought
of his huge cock opening her up out of my head. I visualised him on top of
her, sucking her perfect tits into his mouth, and pushing his magnificent
manhood slowly into her gently yielding love box. I imagined his rough lips
on hers, rubbing away her pink lipstick with his passion, as his tongue
forced its way into her mouth. Then I thought about his spunk coming out of
him, and jetting upwards into my wife, and her loving every minute of his
penetration of her body. How would she react when she found me still awake
in bed when she eventually returned, assuming that she did come back tonight
at all? Would she be calm, as if nothing had happened, all the time walking
around the room with that man’s load inside her? I couldn’t sleep and waited
hours for her, waited with a throbbing cock I didn’t dare attend to.
Eventually, about five o’clock in the morning, I heard a key turn in the
hotel room door. I didn’t say anything, but listened intently as Moira’s
silent outline made its way to the side of our honeymoon bed. She was
obviously trying not to wake me, but I needed to talk to her and see what
kind of state she was in. I felt nervous, angry, self-pitying and hot for
Moira’s body all at the same time. Steeling myself to some kind of
confrontion I turned the bedside lamp on.
Moira froze. She was just about to get into bed beside me, and looked
startled. Other than surprise though she didn’t look too unkempt; she’d
obviously had time to groom herself after satisfying herself on that other
man’s cock. This was the first time I’d seen Moira looking somewhat less
than confident, and emboldened by her worried, surprised look, I built up
courage to act the part of the outraged husband.
“Where the hell have you been?” I barked at her. A quick flash of anger
distorted her beautiful face. Before I could say anything else the open palm
of her hand slapped heavily across my cheek, her long, red nails tearing my
skin like claws. “Never speak to me like that again!” my wife mouthed
quietly to me, barely controlled outrage quivering in her voice. This was
the moment which changed my life. Even then I knew it. Should I attempt to
hit Moira? Should I show her who was going to be boss in this marriage? Or
should I simply get up and leave? For a moment I hesitated, but deep down I
knew what I had to do. I crawled to her, Moira my goddess. I implored her
forgiveness, and whimpered on about how I’d learn to control my stupid male
jealousy, if only she’d forgive me and let me stay with her. I’d serve her
loyally all my days. I’d work hard and have my pay-cheque paid into her
account every month. I’d do anything, but – please Moira – allow me to stay
with you!
Originally posted 2007-12-12 19:19:30. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
I was helpless. I couldn’t reject Moira by refusing to suckle her breasts. I
needed her. I could see Moira’s painted thumb and finger-nails holding on to
Lars’s knob. The seconds passed, and I couldn’t stop sucking Moira. She
brought her lover’s cock right up to my mouth. Then it was thrusting aside
her breast and I found myself tonguing an erect phallus. Moira shifted her
position slightly and held my head in her hands. My lips found that a thick,
fat cock, slickened by my own saliva, was thrusting backwards and forwards
through them. “Good boy” Moira encouraged me. Lars began to enjoy himself.
His thrusts got deeper, until his knob was penetrating the top of my throat
each time he pushed hard. I was in a daze, but when Moira reminded me to
suck and lick her lover’s cock, I did so.
Before I knew what was happening he seemed to be getting ready to cum. His
thrusts were bringing his balls to my lips now. Moira held my head firmly.
Then Lars cried out: “Yes, Moira, yes. Hold him, I’m going to do him!”
Three more hard, quick thrusts, and then Lars held his cock in position. My
jaw muscles were aching with being forced open so long, but I thrilled as
his powerful phallus began to quiver in my mouth. His knob was blocking my
throat and I could hardly breathe, but dimly I was aware he was cumming. At
first I felt nothing, but when after a minute he withdrew, the salty, musky
taste of cum was on my tongue. He had indeed mouth fucked me. Moira released
my head and turned me around to look into my eyes. I had been filled with
another man’s cum for her. Gently she kissed me on the lips, her tongue
snaking out and savouring a real man’s juices. I noticed her nipples were
rock hard as she joined her tongue to mine, both of us tasting Lars’s semen
together.
When she broke off there was a look of triumph in her eyes. I was rewarded
for my obedience to her desires by having my girdle removed at last. Moira
explained that this would be a rare treat for me, but that in the
circumstances she was sure Lars wouldn’t mind(!). I was given Moira’s
panties and told to put them in my mouth and suck on them. Then I was
ordered to masturbate in front of both Moira and Lars. This I did, shooting
a huge load of pent up spunk into my hand. I had wanted to use a pair of
Moira’s knickers to wank into but was denied that pleasure. Inevitably my
liquid dripped off my hand, so Moira ordered me to rub it into my body, and
then take a shower, before getting back into a clean girdle!
For the remainder of that night I slept on the floor by Moira and Lars’s
bed. Lars tied up my hands again “to stop me wanking in the night”. This
was just as well, because in the morning when I awoke it was to the noises
of Lars in rut again, shafting Moira hard and long. I could do nothing
but lay there, listen, and imagine this man making my wife cum on his cock.
I no longer even dreamt for a moment of trying to make him stop. He had
fucked my mouth after all, ejaculated his manly sperm down my throat, and I
probably even still had his spunk in my stomach! I was as much his as Moira
was. When he eventually left to go back to his own room I was almost sad to
see Moira’s lover leave us. She was in such a good mood after being
satisfied by him, and she allowed me to have my wrists freed, and to snuggle
up in bed with her for an hour before a very late breakfast. Of course the
girdle stayed where it was, but Moira rubbed my little prick through the
tight, elasticated garment a bit, and I felt I was in heaven! I had been
required to prove my love to this woman, and I had done it. In the future
she could do what she liked with me, and I knew I’d enjoy it. What could
England bring after this? What would we tell our friends we did on our
honeymoon? I snuggled up to Moira’s warm breasts and dreamed of a long life
of slavery.
Somewhere deep inside of me a very small part of my ego was still alive and
wanted to fight for Moira, but mainly I felt crushed and defeated. Lars had
fucked Moira, but Moira had fucked my mind, my soul. She had shown me that
she could do anything she wanted to me, humiliate me in any way she liked,
rob me of my manhood, and yet _still_ I would love her, depend upon her,
crawl to her. I felt almost as if Moira had tricked me into allowing her to
cut my balls off, yet somehow I was proud of her for doing that to me. What
a woman, what a goddess! I had sold my soul to her and I was glad about it.
I only wanted to discover more of life with this wonderful woman. What else
could she possibly dream up for our marriage? Whatever it might be I was
going to give it a chance!
I was (quite literally) in a state of shock. I had just been forced to
witness my bride being taken by her virile, latin lover. Lars had
finished with her for now. Lazily and full of manly confidence he withdrew
his still huge and well lubricated cock from up my wife. I watched intently,
noting every thick globule of spunk on his shiny knob as it reappeared from
within Moira’s shapely body. When he stood up, leaving Moira prone on our
honeymoon bed, his member bounced in the air before him, still about
three-quarters erect, and enjoying the freedom which my own pathetic willy
was denied, being held tightly confined inside the new, over-small sized
panti-girdle my wife had made me buy earlier that day. I had a sudden
horrible thought that maybe the girdle had been Lars’s idea, and probably
the belt too, which held my wrists together before me. I was trussed like a
turkey, and almost felt like I’d been slaughtered. Every muscle in my body
felt rigid with shock. I felt light-headed, almost as if I might faint at
any moment.
Moira moaned quietly in a satisfied, exhausted tone. The noise drew my eyes
from Lars’s phallus back to the body of this woman who was legally
mine, but whose slave it was clear I had become. She was laying on her back
with her superb, perfectly smooth thighs spread wantonly apart. As I watched
she shifted a little, and a thread of her man’s cum slowly slid from inside
her and began to slither down her cunt lips on to the bed. Lars’s eyes had
followed mine and he guffawed loudly. Then, for the first time, he spoke to
me rather than Moira. “Looks like you’ve been well and truly put in your
place, doesn’t it?” he smirked at me. “I’ve always wanted to have another
man’s bride, and now I’ve done it. I don’t know why women bother marrying
pansy wimps like you. Must be for the money or the security I suppose. Well
she’ll never be satisfied with your little prick again now you know. I’ve
shown her what it’s really like to be taken by a man. She won’t want your
pathetic efforts any more!”
I didn’t dare say a word. Lars looked broad-chested, strong and muscular. I
had my wrists tied together. He had just fucked my wife in front of me and
I’d done nothing. I wasn’t about to do anything rash now. It was still a
shock though when this potent, nude male walked over to me, lifted me out of
my chair, held me to him, and kissed me full on the lips. I struggled to
escape but resistance was hopeless. One arm was all it took Lars to hold me
in his iron embrace. I felt nothing as his lips fastened on mine, neither
stimulation nor repugnance…. only sheer fright! In a second his free hand
was on the crotch of my Berlei panti-girdle, his strong fingers reaching
between my legs, following the slim form of my ensheathed penis. He rubbed
my encased knob vigorously for a few seconds, and then let me go. I fell to
my knees. My world was collapsing.
About midnight I got a shock. A key rattled in the hotel room door. I hadn’t
expected Moira back so soon! My panti-girdle and belt were still firmly in
place, so that was OK. I hoped Moira was OK. She was. And so was Lars.
She had invited him back to our room – I couldn’t believe it. Shamed by my
bonds I tried to hide my hands, but Moira already had the light on and was
introducing me! “This is my husband,” she explained. “You said you wanted to
meet him Lars… well here he is, trussed up and ready like you said!” I
felt a wave of cold shock come over me, and collapsed to my knees, my bound
arms sticking out helplessly in front of me. “Stand up darling,” I heard my
wife’s voice floating somewhere. “Don’t worry. Lars won’t hurt you. I made
him promise. And I want to take your trousers off so we can see your girdle.”
With that Moira hauled me to my feet, loosened the belt in my trousers,
pulled down the zip of my fly, and let my trousers fall to the floor. Of
course the panti-girdle was still there, making me look like a pansy. I
couldn’t believe my nice, normal, middle-class Moira was doing this to me.
“Now sit in the chair darling” she continued. “Lars wants to fuck me on our
bridal bed, and he wants you to watch”. I struggled to obey, and saw Moira
fall on the bed with ‘Lars’. Quickly he was at her, one hand manipulating a
gorgeous breast through her blouse and bra, whilst the other held her head
to his as he tongue kissed her. Having got things under way ‘Lars’ then
appeared to want to take things slowly. Before my very eyes my wife’s
clothing was removed, ever so slowly, item by item, until she was naked
before him. First her thin, almost transparent blouse went, then her tight,
short skirt was unzipped from the side and allowed to fall. Moira was
wearing a suspender belt and very expensive, sheer stockings. Her panties
stayed on for a while as this hunk of a latin male rubbed two powerful
fingers over Moira’s crotch. She allowed him to masturbate her. His lips
sucked her tits through the shiny material of her bra, making her nipples
stand out. Moira’s hips ground backwards and forwards on his hand as her
eager mouth sort his.
Next her panty-briefs were removed, and Lars turned sideways on the bed for
a few minutes to give my wife a good tonguing between her legs. I could only
watch in horror as she ground her cunt into his face. Then came the
stockings and suspender belt. The stockings were flung in my direction, and
I manouvered them to my face, smelling Moira’s female scents as her more
virile lover continued to prepare her to receive his liquid. Finally Moira’s
brassiere was removed, leaving my wife stark naked before the still fully
clothed Lars. Now Moira sat up a bit, and unzipped the man’s fly. I
followed her every movement as her hand went inside his trousers and pulled
out that gigantic cock. I could see his balls now, huge and round,
protruding from his clothing. Moira bent her face to his cock and proceeded
to suck him into her mouth, at least as best she could. Her pink lipsticked
lips worked themselves up and down his bulbous knob, as well as as much of
his massive shaft as she could manage.
I wanted to cum desperately, but could do nothing, except watch, fascinated.
In a few more minutes Lars was nude also, and I knew I was about to watch
my wife get well and truly fucked by another man’s cock. Lars’s huge tool
protruded like a flag-pole from his body. I couldn’t help but stare at it’s
length and thickness, calculating it to be at least twice the size of mine.
I began to feel really seriously inadequate. No wonder Moira preferred other
men. Perhaps I couldn’t really blame her for going to real men for sex. How
could I even dream of filling her up properly after she’d been stretched
open by a monster cock like that? I felt that if I were a woman, I’d
probably want a proper man’s cock too!
Moira now grabbed her new man’s penis and guided it to her lips again. Her
beautifully painted, sexy, feminine lips curled around his knob. Then she
was licking it, up and down, up and down, whilst gently manipulating her
lover’s balls in her hand. Next those balls disappeared into Moira’s mouth,
one after the other, as she sucked hard on her male’s scrotal sac. Lars was
in ecstacy, groaning wildly as Moira’s tongue played with his testicles.
After a few minutes of this, during which – to my amazement – Lars’s
cock seemed to lengthen and fill out yet another inch, Moira lay down on the
bed, opened her legs, and guided her man into her body. I watched paralysed
with lust as the gigantic male member nudged open my wife’s cunt, and then
began to disappear from sight inside her. Suddenly Lars seemed to lose
control. He began to rut like a desperate animal, thrusting his weapon again
and again up Moira’s slippery hole. Faster and faster he fucked her. Moira
looked elated. “Yes, yes. Do it to me. Fuck me. Make me cum. Spunk me Lars,
I want you,” she moaned. Within seconds Lars was doing as invited and
ejaculating his spunk into my wife. He really shoved hard at Moira as he
came, holding her shoulders down on the bed as he delivered his load into
her, her tits wobbling and rippling with each male orgasmic thrust. In a way
it was a beautiful sight, but I was an emotional wreck, and I could feel my
own little cock trying and failing to grow beyond about three or four inches
inside the imprisoning panti-girdle.
The following morning both Moira and I slept in late. We were both tired
after the events of the previous night, and Moira didn’t even wake up until
about 11 o’clock. I awoke with an unrelieved massive hard-on about half past
nine, but I remembered Moira had said something about me not masturbating,
and I was not about to risk her anger. Instead I lay in bed next to my
marital Mistress for over an hour, absorbing the warmth of her soft,
feminine body, and thinking about her and Lars, her latin looking lover
of the previous evening. I had decided that I enjoyed obeying Moira, even
when she was forbidding me sex, but I felt a great deal more uncertain about
Lars’s role in this complicated situation. _He_ had said Moira was not
to permit me sex until _he_ said so. Who was he to say such a thing?
Certainly Moira was clearly taken with his body, but I was still Moira’s
husband, I told myself. It was one thing being made to wait an indefinite
period for sex by your wife, quite another when ordered about, even
indirectly, by her lover.
Yet what could I do about it? Nothing! Time though, I told myself, was on my
side. Our honeymoon trip would be coming to an end in a couple of days, and
we would have to return to England, dreary gray Liverpool skies, and some
kind of blessed normality. At least Lars would be left behind! Moira
would no doubt continue to assert her newly established right to copulate
with whomsoever she chose from time to time, but I’d be used to the idea by
then, and perhaps I’d be able to figure out ways to deal better with the
situation.
When Moira awoke, she reminded me about her proposed shopping trip, after
first flicking the still engorged knob of my prick with her long,
pink-painted finger-nails and laughing dismissively. “Put little Willy
away,” she told me. “I don’t want my reputation ruined by anyone spotting my
husband’s inadequacies!” I grimaced at the insult, but wisely kept quiet.
“Good boy” she reassured me. “Don’t worry. You mustn’t play with him, but
we’ll get some things today which will make your temporary chastity a little
bit easier on you”. Moira always had enjoyed being mysterious!
All the while she was laying down the law Moira stroked my head and my
shoulders. She held me tight between her wonderful thighs, and every now and
again pushed my nose a little harder against the wet, soft entrance to her
hole. “I’ll be laying down lots of rules for you,” she continued, “and
you’ll have to enjoy obeying them if you want to stay with me.
“This is your first test. You may as well know that Lars and I have
been to bed together.” – As if I hadn’t already guessed! – “We have made
love, more than once, and I enjoyed it very much. Lars is obviously a
very practiced lover, and really knows how to please a woman. He’s better at
it than you’ll ever be! For one thing, he’s really well hung. His beautiful
male cock is so much bigger than yours darling; you could never compete with
him. He has the most wonderful broad, flat chest, fascinating, powerful dark
eyes, and balls the size of hens’ eggs. His cock must be at least twice as
long and thick as yours. When he put it up me I almost came straight away,
he stretched me so much. When he pumped his powerful tool up and down me, he
took me to heaven and back. He made me cum and cum and cum. I was his. He
waited until I was exhausted by my orgasms, and _then_ he spunked me. It was
superb darling. I could feel his massive balls dangling between my legs, and
feel them tightening as he got ready to fill me with his load. When he
ejaculated I was too tired to cum again, but he looked me in the eyes as his
semen gushed out of his giant prick into me, telling me I was his, and I
knew it was true. After he’d finished cuming he made me lick his lovely tool
clean. In between stuffing his cock in my mouth he made me promise not to
allow you sex until he said so, but I know you love me, and I know you’ll
enjoy waiting for me darling.
“Now! Prove to me you accept all this by sucking me off. My pussy is full of
Lars’s creamy white spunk of course, but I want you to suck me really
hard all the same, and no playing with yourself either!”
I remained almost frozen with indecision. Then the man’s strong looking face
bent down to Moira’s again, and they began a long, deep kiss. Oh god, I
thought, he’s putting his tongue into her! If he was, then Moira was clearly
not resisting. The kiss went on and on. The man could be clearly seen
working his fingers inside Moira’s panties now, and with mounting tension
and horror I realised he was thrusting his fingers between her legs from
behind, forcing her mound onto his engorged cock at the front, whilst all
the time keeping his mouth clamped on hers. My wife was being frigged off by
some latin male in front of my very own eyes! I felt my body tense up with
sheer shock, but at the same time I noticed my own prick expanding. I
watched transfixed as Moira was practically fucked on the dance floor and
thought of my own desires to shaft her. It was all too much. I was so
confused. I wanted so desperately to fuck my wife, but if I couldn’t do it I
still wanted to see her getting fucked. The thought of my wife opening her
legs for this man, and being filled with powerful spurts of his semen as he
somehow turned her into a ‘proper’ fuckable woman was almost too much to bear.
Moira hadn’t seen me, but suddenly her partner did. He plainly noticed me
staring, but his only reaction was to say, quite loudly, to my wife: “I’m
going to put one finger up your arse now, and then you’re going to follow me
to my room!” I watched as the shadow of his forefinger made gentle thrusting
movements inside her panties. Moira groaned, a deep, hungry, sexual groan of
desire. He held my wife’s body to him as she wiggled her arse, impaled on
his finger. Moira’s lips curled open, looking thick and sensual, as she
threw her head back, clearly in ecstasy. Whether she was quite cuming or not
was not clear, but to my shame _I_ did! I was conscious of the biggest
erection of my life in my pants and a superb sensuous feeling in the
knob-head of my cock as it pressed against the tight elastic of my pants’
waistband. Then I was cuming helplessly. My spunk flooded out soaking my
trousers, right there on the dance floor. It felt so good, but I almost
collapsed with the joy of release. Even after cuming my shrinking dick moved
slickly through the thick sliminess of my cum, and it still felt great.
My mind was in turmoil though. My wife was by now heading off to her lover’s
room, without ever having noticed my presence. I was helpless with jealousy,
but also overwhelmed by sexual release and sheer physical pleasure. If this
was what being cheated on felt like…. I was interested in knowing more!
Before long I found myself masturbating alone to relieve the tension. Even I
couldn’t believe this. I was on my honeymoon with the most gorgeous woman on
earth, yet I was being forced to wank off like some teenager to stop myself
going insane with lust. Unable to possess Moira I found myself reduced to
stealing her sexy, silky panties. I spunked huge amounts of creamy white cum
into her shiny knickers, imagining myself pushing my prick up her like the
one and only time I’d been permitted that luxury. Then I’d hide the used
panties in the laundry basket, hoping no-one would look too closely!
When Moira made it plain that in the evenings she fully intended dancing
with other men after dinner, as well as me, I took it in my stride. Moira
could do no wrong, and I was determined to take a broad-minded, liberal
attitude to this. At first it was just disco dancing. She never actually
touched her other partners. But then as the two weeks of the honeymoon wore
on, and it was plain I wasn’t going to insist on either my conjugal “rights”
or possessing her as an exclusive dancing partner, Moira began staying on
the dance-floor for the slower numbers too. This really did churn me up
inside. I was forced to watch as my new wife allowed herself to be held
tightly by handsome men who all seemed more confident and experienced than
me. I sat at a side table guarding Moira’s drink, whilst she smooched with
some hunk. I watched in agony as the man’s hands would reach around her back
and press her soft body to him.
One evening towards the end of the honeymoon I sat at my side table as a new
latin-looking stranger (and yes, he was – quite literally – tall, dark and
handsome) caressed my wife’s bare back, pressing her sacred breasts to his
broad chest. Then I noticed that he was maneuvering Moira gradually towards
the darkest part of the disco. I strained my eyes to follow their movements.
I could hardly see them through the throng of bodies, but to my absolute
horror I thought I saw him kissing Moira full on the lips. I was in agony. I
couldn’t be sure of what I’d seen, and tried to tell myself that either I’d
imagined it, or Moira was very drunk. I thought about fighting the man…..
and decided I couldn’t do it. He had looked big and muscular, and for all I
knew if I tried to come between him and “his girl” he might produce a knife
or worse. I was terrified for my new marriage, and scared of confronting the
situation. In the end I sidled alone on to the dance-floor, and danced
pathetically, with strange, agonised, nervous jerks, over in their direction.
My worst fears were confirmed. Up fairly close, even in the semi-darkness, I
could see the man’s right hand snaking up Moira’s mini-skirt and caressing
the wonderful, round globes of her arse. As he stroked Moira’s bum he pulled
her hips onto his, and with mounting horror I suddenly saw the vague shape
of what could only be the massive bulge of an erect cock in his trousers.
Soon he had Moira’s crotch rubbing against his clearly excited phallus as
they swayed to the slow music. She must be able to feel his cock rubbing
against her? What on earth was she thinking? Why didn’t she break off? What
was I to do?
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