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5-STAR POSTS!!     |
03/03/2009
Momma’s Angel
Chapter One
Peter watched his wife out of the corner of his eye as he drove their Cadillac Escalade through the light Valentine’s weekend traffic in the suburbs of St. Louis. She was a beautiful woman. A beautiful and powerful woman, and now, an adulterous woman on top of that.
It didn’t matter he thought to himself; he still loved her dearly.
‘But will you always love her?’ some inner part of his mind asked himself. ‘No matter how far she takes the game?’
He couldn’t conclusively answer that question for himself, though he knew he wanted to find out.
‘You have only yourself to blame after all’ he thought to himself. ‘You’re the one who started the game in the first place.
The thought began to propel his imagination into the unknown future of just how far it might go, and he continued to watch his sultry brunette wife out of the corner of his eye. She had a round girlish face, almost angelic, and her shoulder-length dark-brown almost black hair hung in curls in ringlets framing her face. Her skin was smooth and fair, and she looked easily 20 years younger than him, even though their actual age difference was only 11 years. Cindy caught his sidelong glance and gave him a sly wink. She now matched his posture, watching him out of the corner of her eye as a sly grin spread across her face.
“Looking forward to festivities my little Angel?” she asked with just a hint of the sort of patronizing tone that a doting mother might use with her 9 year old son.
He swallowed hard, and looked back at the road. She grinned bigger, obviously aware of the pleasure-pain which the anticipation was creating for him.
“Don’t worry little Angel,” she put her hand on the inside of his right thigh, high-up near his crotch. “You’ve been a very good boy these past few days and Mommy will be sure you are properly rewarded.” He caught a whiff of her sweet perfume, and felt his whole body shudder with a now somewhat unfamiliar hot excitement when she touched him. Unfamiliar because she had become quite thrifty in rationing out her affections and even her touch to her husband. They’d been married for 8 years, but in the last year, Peter had brought some new ideas into the relationship, and in the past few months, a new dynamic had been set in motion.
As she drew hear hand away it just glanced against the hard plastic ‘cage’ in which his package was presently locked up. He flinched slightly from the bump, and her grin momentarily turned just a bit cruel, her lips pursing forward just a bit in mock sympathy for the discomfort. She chuckled lightly and turned her gaze away from him and back out the window.
He had been locked up for 4 days, the longest time she had kept him caged up so far. He hoped she would let him out soon, but realized that, in contrast to the autonomy he once had when they first began the game, she now exercised total control. That thought resonated in his mind . . . his wife now exercised total control over his penis and testicles; when he could get an erection, when he could masturbate, when he could ejaculate, and even the increasingly rare occurrence of intercourse . . . Once the initial period of unfamiliarity was past, she seemed to grow ever more comfortable in her role as master of his cock-cage, and holder of his key. Peter’s cock and balls were locked inside the “CB-6000,” a clear-plastic penis-shaped tube with a ring that wrapped around the scrotum and with a small padlock, made it effectively impossible to get an erection, or to get any sort of stimulation through the penis. The balls were still exposed, albeit ‘trussed-up’ by the scrotal-ring, and of course the perineal and anal area were still exposed . . . but it was effectively impossible for a man wearing a CB-6000 to masturbate by stroking the penis, or for that matter to even get an erection!
She was enjoying all of this a lot more than he would have ever imagined all those weeks past when he first bought the CB-6000 on the pretense that “he wanted to show his devotion to her.” She had fairly quickly seen through that, and based on how she had quickly taken control of things, she seemed to have a pretty clear sense for his true motivations.
Within a month she had started to force him to wear it all day at work, gradually increasing the duration of his cage-times, and even keeping him locked-up while he slept. Those first few nights that he had worn it through the night had been hard . . . but by the third and fourth night that he wore it he was actually able to get a good night sleep, and somehow his body seemed to figure out that a “piss-hard-on” was no longer tenable in the mornings.
He wondered at how it might be changing him, worried a bit actually . . . when they had first played with it, he noted that if he wore it for a few hours at a time, he seemed to actually have bigger erections and sometimes more forceful orgasms. But that was at the beginning, and now he was only being let out of it by his wife after several days. He wondered how that might change him as a man.
They arrived at their destination. He pulled the SUV into the Anderson Motel parking lot, right in front of room 247.
She pulled a small note from her handbag and looked at it. “Two forty seven . . . yep. That’s it! You remembered and drove right to it Little Angel!” Little Angel, that is what she had started referring to him since the game had become the defining feature in their relationships.
She turned toward him and leaned across the center of the truck, cradling the side of his head in one hand while stroking his cheek with the other. She looked into his brown eyes, and smiled at him with an exaggerated look of devotion while stroking his thinning dishwater blond hair. Again he felt that shudder of excited hot fire in his blood. His penis engorged and strained against its bonds, his heart palpitated, and he gazed into her eyes with eager anticipation.
“Don’t be afraid,” she taunted him with a baby-talk tone. “Mommie’s little Angel is gonna be just fine.”
‘What a beautiful woman my wife is’ he thought to himself. He glanced down at her cleavage, like a beautiful soft flower petal between her firm C-cup breasts. Her girlish face with those cute cheeks was framed by her dark brown shoulder-length hair which she had so elegantly arranged for today’s festivities as she put it.
He inhaled her sweet, sultry aroma . . . that expensive perfume he’d bought her last Valentine’s Day and which she had only started wearing recently on her “dates.”
There had been two of them so far. This was the third “date” she had been on in as many weeks, but the first one on which she had allowed him to accompany.
Of course she had told him about her boyfriend, Rod, but this would be the first time he actually met him. Peter felt his pelvic areas quiver as the thought of it darted into his mind, and felt a little bead of sweat run down his back and go cold when it hit the small of his back, just above the crack of his ass. He arched his back instinctively, partly to shift the pinching sensation by the plastic cage on his cock and balls but partly because of his imagination.
‘You’re a washed-up forty-six years old professor of business management at a community college’ he thought to himself. ‘You should be thankful to have such a hot wife 11-years younger than you, no matter what you have to do to please her . . . especially when she knows exactly how to push your buttons like she does . . . plus she makes 3 times what you do in her regional VP job.’
He forced a tight-jawed smile across his face and sat up straight making eye contact with her, thinking to himself ‘Be thankful buddy. You’ve got it made.’
She sat back in the passenger seat, took out her cell phone and made a call. “Hello? Rod?” she said.
“Hi!” her voice was now alive with a flirtatious excitement. “Yeah! We’re right outside!” she paused listening to the cell phone held up to her ear. “Yup, he’s here too!” another pause, as she glanced over at Peter and grinned.
Peter swallowed again, he could feel his heart beating faster.
“I know, its hard to believe isn’t it” she turned to look at her husband Peter Pearson, as if he was a strange and slightly silly piece of art work hanging from the driver’s-side sun visor of her Cadillac.
“That’s right” she continued her conversation with Rod, all the while gazing at Peter with a sly almost withering gaze. “I told him all about it, and he’s actually very excited to see us together.”
Peter could feel a throb in his loins when he heard his wife tell the man on the other end what it was he wanted.
“I know, hard to believe isn’t it?” she continued her conversation, grinning and shaking her head slightly as she continued to sizeup her husband’s five-feet ten 165-pound frame. “But I think he knows who is boss now . . . yeah, that’s right, he’s locked up in it right now.” Cindy gazed down at his lap and a dismissive smirk spread across her face.
Peter was nearly frozen in place. He was gripping the arm rest tightly, his heart beating rapidly and perspiration had broken out on his brow. ‘Holy Shit!’ he thought to himself. ‘It really is happening! The fantasy is coming true!’ For months, if not years Peter’s sexual fantasies had been dominated by one theme: his wife having incredibly hot, carnal sex with other men. The most arousing versions of the fantasy were scenarios where he was helpless, locked in his cage, and commanded by his beautiful younger wife to watch as she behaved like a total whore with other men. He had first communicated this fantasy to her at least two years ago, and it had taken time, repetition, and gradual change for it to become the reality that it was finally becoming today.
Now that it was happening, Peter felt an overwhelming suite of emotions, but he was sure if it was pure terror, or terror mixed with excitement. He wondered now at this last minute if he had made the biggest mistake of his life . . .
Cindy continued her telephone conversation with her ‘boyfriend’ inside the motel room right in front of where they were parked. “So you’re sure you’d be okay if he comes in too?” Cindy asked Rod. “Yeah, we can definitely do that too if you want. I think he’d like that,” Cindy winked at Peter, and he felt his cock throb again. It was starting to pinch from the semi-erection that was taking over inside the cage.
Peter’s heart was beating now so fast he wondered if he might have a heart attack, his mouth was dry and he had a lump in his throat. He suddenly realized he was clenching the arm rest on the driver’s side door of the Cadillac, and reflexively tried to relax.
“Okay,” Cindy said demurely as she finished her conversation with Rod, and closed her phone “we’ll come right in . . .”
Chapter Two “Kissing the Devil”
Just as Cindy put away her cell phone the door to room 247 swung open and there was Rod standing just inside the door.
Peter swallowed hard. All moisture had now evaporated from his mouth, and the lump in his throat felt like a boulder. He stared wide-eyed at Rod, frozen with a combination of excitement, dread, eager anticipation, and shame.
“Nice lookin’ guy isn’t he?” Cindy smirked. “You told me to take my pick, and that is what I did”
Peter glanced at her to see she was smiling like a vixen. He looked back at Rod as she got out of the SUV and started toward the door.
Rod was everything he was not. Six-foot-three, and dashingly handsome. Mediterranean ancestry of some sort from the look of him. He was wearing a tight V-neck sweater that accentuated his well-defined arm muscles, and cut pecs and abs. Whereas Peter was a middle-aged slightly balding man with a slight belly, Rod was quite literally a ‘hunk.’ ‘Holy crap . . .’ was all Peter could think to himself.
Peter sat frozen in the driver’s seat, feeling his little tool shrink up as the terror of what was about to happen coursed through his body. ‘Oh My God!’ he thought to himself. ‘My wife’s boyfriend is absolutely beautiful! How can I possibly compete!?’
His wife stepped into the doorway of the motel room and embraced Rod. They kissed passionately, and Peter watched transfixed as this other man put his hand on his wife’s lower back, just above her perky full-hipped butt.
Peter’s mind race. ‘Good Lord!’ he thought. ‘For so long you’ve fantasized about this, and now its actually going to happen!’ He wasn’t sure if it was euphoria, or terror or some combination of both that gripped his whole body and mind.
She turned and spoke, he could just make out what she said with the car windows rolled up. “Well, are you gonna just sit there or are you gonna come in?”
Without even thinking, he got out of the car and headed for the door. He suddenly felt as if he was not really in control of his body movements, as if he was just a spectator watching himself open the car door, get out, shut and lock it and walk toward the motel room where his wife was just about to have a hot sexual encounter with a man she met on a business trip. Rod and Cindy moved out of the doorway and into the room to let him enter.
The motel room smelled foreign, a combination of cheap cleaning fluids, smoke, and the hundreds of strangers who had passed through.
“Go ahead and shut the door and lock it Peter,” Rod told him. He did as he was told.
Rod made eye contact with him as he extended his right hand. The two men shook hands. “Cindy tells me you’ve been going on for months about some fantasy huh?” Rod had a deep-toned and assertive yet boyish voice. He was gazing right into Peter’s eyes with utter confidence as he stood there embracing Peter’s wife Cindy in his left arm and giving Peter’s little hand a good solid shake with his right.
Peter shook his head meekly, and felt his cock and balls shrink smaller inside their cage as the fear and anticipation swelled in him.
Cindy was watching him too, grinning. Now she looked so foreign to him, almost like another woman, like a cat cruelly toying with a mouse. Like a mother teasing her little son for his unfailing, and childish devotion. He made eye-contact with her and in a flash he saw the thought she was transmitting to him in her expression, ‘This is what you said you wanted you silly little man . . .’
Rod continued to address Peter “You really think you wanna see your wife get fucked by another man eh?”
All Peter could do was meekly shake his head in affirmation, after all, it was true. It was his continual blathering on and on about this fantasy all these months that had led up to this situation. Now he wondered if it was the biggest mistake of his life.
“Well I’m happy to oblige Pal,” Peter said as swooped Cindy back one step wrapped in his left arm and stroked his right arm across her flat stomach. “Your wife is hot,” Rod said as he made eye contact with the Cindy. Peter guessed that Rod could not have been older than 28 probably more like 25, easily ten-years younger than Cindy.
“And she is one good lay, let me tell ya” Rod continued. Cindy and Rod leaned toward each other and as if magnetically drawn began to kiss right in front of Peter.
Feeling an unbearable combination of powerful negative and positive emotions, Peter shifted on his feet as if to move over toward the door.
“Stop right there!” Cindy admonished him. “You know the rules. When you have the cage on, I tell you to jump and you say how high.” Peter froze in place, gazing down at the floor like a scared little boy. He shook his head and said very quietly “Sorry Mistress.”
“Mistress,” that is what she had demanded he refer to her as these past few weeks.
Rod chuckled lightly to himself while Cindy admonished her husband. Peter gazed down at the floor sheepishly, but caught a glimpse of Rod gazing at him with bemused disdain. Rod shook his head as if he was saying to himself ‘Sheeze, what a pathetic wimp . . . this is gonna be fun.’
Rod had one of those dark tans like he spent time in tanning booths, and his arms were cut- and his abs chiseled. He wore cologne, and had an arrogant look about him. Cindy had met him at an annual business convention three weeks earlier. He was an assistant to a Vice President of marketing for the upper Midwest, based out of Chicago. Their first “date” had been in the hotel where the convention was held. For the second “date” they had both driven half-way and met at a motel in central Illinois. Now they were on their third date, and Cindy had brought her husband along so he could watch her have hot sex with her boyfriend.
In that three week time-span since she and Rod had first hooked-up in the Radisson in Chicago, she had gone from keeping Peter caged for 2 days at a time to 3 days at a time. During that time-span she had allowed him wank-off whenever she let him out of his cage; but the last time Peter had actually penetrated his wife was twenty-three days ago, two nights before she had departed on her business trip to Chicago. In short, ever since Rod had become a feature in her life, Peter had not had intercourse with his wife.
He wondered when the next time would be when he would get to put his penis inside his wife . . . at this point, he would have been thrilled even to just get a hand-job, let alone fellatio.
Rod and his wife continued to kiss, gently and tenderly . . . As Peter resigned himself to his role, and watched them his mind replayed the outline of the events of the last few weeks.
Today was Saturday, Sept 19th, and four days ago on the morning of the Wednesday Sept 16th was the last time she had let him out of his cage. On that particular morning she had looked and smelled especially sexy as they went about their morning routine in the bathroom.
The routine that had settled in these past weeks was for her to let him out first thing in the morning so he could clean himself and his cage in the shower, and reapply fresh Vaseline to the inside of the cock-ring and penis-sheath.
Usually, before she let him out of his cage, she first made him lick her until she had several orgasms; sometimes she just used her vibrator on herself while he watched, encased in his plastic CB-6000 male chastity device, and unable to much more than get a mild sense of arousal from rocking his cock and balls gently back and forth. When she had had her fill of pleasure, she would make him kneel in front of her and give him the little key so that he could let himself out of his cage. A couple times she allowed him to lay his cheek on her thigh so he could smell her wet vagina while he wanked-off.
Once she forced his head down on the ground with her foot while he jacked off. The way she forced his head down with her foot caused his butt to stick up in the air and just as he reached climax and blew his spunk on the bathroom floor she smacked his ass lightly with her hand sending ripples of pleasure pain through his body. As he watched her kissing her boyfriend now, getting increasingly hot and aroused with each passing moment, he felt an incredible sense of longing for that moment now. Even just a smack from her could be ecstatic. He watched the young man and his wife kissing and he felt an incredible mixture of emotions: rage, helplessness, jealousy, excitement, and submission. Rod was a handsome man, Peter noted the large bulge in his pants which Cindy periodically rubbed through the man’s pants. In terms of attractiveness, Rod was much more Cindy’s match than Peter was. He had always wondered if he was not really enough for her, and now he knew . . . as she and Rod madeout standing three-feet in front of him, she glanced over at him momentarily, her gaze was spacey, as if the lust were a powerful drug, clouding her perception and reason. Peter could tell by how incredibly hot and excited she was that this really was something she had been longing for just as his fantasies had declared.
On the last day she had let him out of his cage, four days ago on Wednesday Sept 16th, she had brought out a new toy, a small leather riding crop. As with the previous sessions, she had made him kneel on the cold bathroom tile-floor and stood in front of him so her aroma wafted in his face as he masturbated.
“You like that smell dontcha Angel?” she had said to him soothingly while he stroked his meat and groaned in pleasure. But this time, when he had leaned forward to kiss her pubic region, she had got suddenly very angry.
“BAD BOY!” she shouted as she swacked his ass with her riding crop. “Get your hands behind your back and your put face down on the floor!” she commanded.
He quickly let go of his throbbing member, just seconds before he would have ejaculated, relieving three-days of pent up tension.
“I TOLD YOU last time that I am the boss!” she reprimanded him. “You do exactly as I say, and do only what I tell you to do!” She gave his ass another punitive swat, this time a bit harder. He winced and struggled not to cover his butt with his hands.
She swatted him a third and fourth time, harder still in quick succession, “Do you understand me know you little fuck!?”
He moaned, “Yes! Yes, mistress! I . . . I understand.” He had stammered, as the awareness of the forces his incessant fantasizing had set loose began to dawn on him.
“Put your cage back on NOW!” she had commanded him. It had been difficult to stuff his still semi-erect cock back into the CB-6000 but with her standing over him menacingly with the riding crop, somehow he had managed to get the swelling to abate and force his 5” dick back into the small plastic cock-sheath. Getting the cock ring on and the collar snapping the sheath the ring hooked together those four days ago had felt like a prison door clanging shut. She had handed him the padlock and watched as he locked himself up for her. So while it had been a mere four days since he had had the cock-cage off, today it was a full-week since he had come.
“You are the one who wanted it this way little Peter boy,” she had told him. “We’ve gone too far for you to back down now. You either go along, or you never get me at all, do you understand?”
“You’re the boss, and I only do what you tell me to do.”
Those were the words he had told her four days ago, and those were the words he was living out now as he watched his wife passionately French-kissing a strange handsome young man in a motel room in St. Louis. He resigned himself to his fate, and resolved to get on with and enjoy it as best he could.
Chapter Three “Serving to Please”
Peter glanced down at his watch furtively, hoping that Cindy would not see him do it. It was 5:37PM on a cool Saturday evening in September. He and his wife and a young man she had met three weeks earlier in Chicago were in a motel room in a suburb of St. Louis. Peter could here the whirring sound of the highway traffic right behind the building, almost as audible as the heavy breathing and periodic light moans coming from his wife and her boyfriend, Rod.
Peter stood in the corner of the room near the door and the TV set, and watched them as their passion and arousal slowly grew and grew. They were only about 5-feet away, standing right there at the foot of the bed. It was surreal and almost hard for him to believe. He had fantasized about this for so long, years really. When they left the house in Crystal City at 3:05, this had still been a fantasy, but now here it was—he glanced at his watch again—5: 39 and counting, and his longtime fantasy was finally coming true. At first the sheer terror caused by the novelty of it all had made Peter shinkup in his cage, causing it to hang lower in his trousers as the cock-sheath and ring grew looser around his diminishing equipment and slide down. But now, as he watched them together, and submitted to the moment, he was getting steadily more and more excited. He had after all dreamed of this hundreds of times while jacking off in the faculty lavatory at work, at home, in airplanes, etc.
Rod was clearly enjoying it a lot. You could tell from the look on his face that he was a real asshole, just the type of good-looking smooth talker who would relish the humiliation he could inflict by fucking another man’s wife right in front of him, especially an older, less dashing, and less dominant guy like Peter. Peter had always felt a strange sense of dread and joy that his wife was so much better looking than he was and ten-years younger on top of that. He watched them with increasingly rapt attention. She really was an incredibly beautiful woman; she had a quintessentially ‘booty-call’ type of ass, a cute almost cherub like face, and firm medium-sized breasts.
Their kissing had grown more and more passionate and nasty. Rod was now kissing his wife with wide-mouth French kisses. He grasped her head in his hands as he they snaked their tongues in and out of one another’s mouths. Peter could see in the way that Cindy was crushed up against Rods muscular young body that she was entirely overcome with lust. She glanced over at her husband again, to make sure he was watching and then darted her tongue into Rod’s mouth with animalistic lust.
Peter watched, helpless, ashamed, but increasingly aroused as his wife of 8 years made out with a man who was practically young enough to be his son. Cindy paused in her ravishing of Rod’s neck and whispered in his ear. Rod turned to look at Peter as Cindy did the same.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said to her. “Go ahead and make ‘em.”
Cindy took a couple steps toward her husband as Rod stepped back to the bed and picked up his half-drunk beer. She bent over and took the riding crop out of the bed she had laid on the motel room floor between the bed and the door. She stood facing Peter and made eye contact with him.
“Now,” she began to address him, but he averted his gaze down at the floor in shame.
“LOOK! at me when I talk to you!” she commanded, and he did was he was told.
“Now,” she began again, but he cut in talking over her.
“Cindy, you’re really going to go through with this . . .” he whimpered sheepishly.
“Of course I am Peter. You’re the one who wanted it this way.” In her expression, he could see a glimmer of some strange hint of vindictiveness, or was it just meanness?
“Besides, Rod and I have already ‘gone through with this’ twice before.” She grinned slightly as she saw how those words made her husband wriggle just a bit. “He is a really hot fuck. You were totally right of course, all these months that you’ve been so caught up in these fantasies. A young hot stud like him is exactly what I’ve been missing.” She glanced back at Rod and they smiled at each other as they made eye contact. She turned back to Peter who had a look of resigned fear on his face, she could only imagine how excited he was.
“Cindy I . . .” Peter began, but she cut him off. “No you listen. This is going to happen, right now. I need to get fucked by a real man” she told him matter of factly.
“Its not that I don’t love you anymore, its just that, well . . . you know lust.” Peter stood silent, now fully aware that he had zero control over the situation that his own perverse fantasies had created.
“Now if I get anymore backtalk out of you, I’ll just call you a cab and make you go home, and you won’t even get to watch, let alone get out and wank-off.” She warned him. “You do want to watch don’t you?”
Peter shook his head yes.
“Good,” she grinned back at Rod. She turned back to her husband. “Now I’m going to tell you this only once. Speak only when you are spoken to, and do not so much as make a muscle unless you are told to do so. Do you understand?”
Peter shook his head yes.
“You are here to watch me get my pleasure, just like you’ve been telling me you always fantasize about. So don’t spoil it or you will definitely be going home in a cab, and I might never let you out of that contraption of yours again!” Her tone was patronizing and chastising, and it was making Peter a bit wobbly with excitement and anticipation. “Do you understand me!?” she asked.
Peter shook his head yes.
“That is one well-disciplined little cuckold bitch you got there honey,” Rod said chuckling.
“He is quite a piece of work, isn’t he?” Cindy replied. “Alright lets get started” she said. “First take off all your clothes.”
Peter paused for just a moment, hesitant to take off his close revealing his shameful caged cock and balls with Rod watching. “NOW!” Cindy shouted as she swacked him with the riding crop.
Peter quickly began to pull off his shirt. He watched Rod out of the corner of his eye as he unzipped his trousers and let them drop to the floor.
At first site of the CB-6000 encasing Peter’s stuff, Rod’s expression turned to bemused wide-eyed amazement. “Well will ya look at that!” Rod muttered “You really do have a little cuckold slave there dontcha.”
“Stop!” Cindy ordered as Peter began to bend down to slide his trousers off his feet. “Turn around when you bend over so we can see the rear view.”
Peter did as he was told and as he bent at the waist to slide off his trousers, shoes and socks, he made sure to arch his back so that the rear view was accentuated for their inspection. He caught a glimpse of Rod shaking his head in affirmation as he and Cindy made eye contact. Suddenly Cindy gave him a swat on the bottom with the crop, causing him to wince and wobble as he removed the second pants-leg.
“Stop sticking out your little faggot ass and get on your knees,” she commanded, pointing to a spot just a couple feet in front of the bed.
Peter’s cock and balls were now engorged to maximum size inside the chastity cage, and the slight pressure was an intoxicating mixture of pleasure-pain.
Cindy stood just a couple feet in front of where Peter was kneeling and motioned Rod over to her. “Now watch how a real man treats a woman,” she said.
Rod and Cindy began to make out again, just a foot or two right in front of where Peter was kneeling, naked, and caged in his chastity cage. Peter could feel the cool air in the motel room, and the barely audible hiss of the highway traffic. The sound of Rod and his wife making-out was really making him hot, and he desperate wanted to stroke his meat or at least pinch his nipples. At least he could sort of arch his back and rock gentle causing his cock and balls to sway to and fro, sending slight sensation into his prostate region. As he watched them making out, with increasing passion, a sense of anticipation for what was about to happen swelled within him. He couldn’t help gazing at Rod’s crotch where there was an obvious and large bulge.
Cindy’s hand moved over Rod’s bulge and squeezed it gently, “You like that eh?” she said down to her pathetic kneeling husband. She and Rod both gazed down at him dismissively.
“Well you are in for a treat my little cuckold whore, cause my man here has got everything that you don’t have in the penis-department.” With that Cindy dropped down to her knees, her face now at face level with Rod’s crotch, and her husband’s face.
She unzipped Rod’s fly, and helped him step out of his trousers. Rod’s tight underwear looked like they were about to burst at the seams. Just before she pulled down Rod’s underwear, Cindy looked right at her husband, “Now do not take your eyes off the prize, you understand.”
She pulled down Rod’s shorts, and Peter was amazed. Rod was just partly erect but he was already close to what must have been seven inches in length, and equally thick too. Peter realized that there was no way he could compete with that shlong; his pecker was just at 5-inches when it was at totally max erection.
Cindy took Rod’s tool in her mouth, and began to suck and kiss it, slowly at first but then with increasing vigor. For several minutes, Peter watched as his wife sucked another man’s cock right in front of him. She periodically giggled as she looked up to make eye contact with Rod. She slurped, and sucked and kissed the big dick as it slowly throbbed and grew to full size . . . ‘Good God’ Peter thought to himself. ‘That thing must be nearly eight inches long.’ Cindy’s little hand didn’t even wrap all the way around it.
Cindy continued to give Rod a slow passionate blow job as Peter watched intently, listening to her slurp, and moan and giggle. “Mmmm . . . mmmm . . . unggghh” she moaned, “You . . . mmmmm . . . have got . . . *slurp* . . . a fine cock . . .” Cindy glanced at her husband to make sure he was watching closely and enjoying himself.
She held Rod’s cock in her hand and turned it toward Peter just a bit, “Mmm, its really good,” she said. Peter slouched down and back a bit as the cock moved toward his face. “You wanna try?”
Peter sheepishly shook his head as he turned his gaze down at the carpet. Rod turned one step toward Peter as Cindy continued to hold Rod’s cock toward her husband’s mouth.
Slowly, hesitantly Peter began to rise up toward the waiting shlong, his lips parting and his eyes locked on target.
Just as he was about to make lip-contact with Rod’s dick, Rod stepped back laughing. “Ha! Will you look at that!” he said to Cindy. “He really is a total fucking Cuck whore!”
Cindy was now staring at her husband with a look of mildly amazed realization “You’re right” she said. “He is a pathetic little bitch.”
Now she addressed her husband, “Now that I know what you really want, I truly do have total control over you my little angel.” She and Rod now stood up embracing, “Now you just watch and be a good boy, and maybe Mommies’ little angel will get what he wants.”
She and Rod now knelt on the bed resuming making-out as he peeled off her clothes.
FUCK MY WIFE!
CLICK BELOW TO FIND A BULL
Chapter One
Peter watched his wife out of the corner of his eye as he drove their Cadillac Escalade through the light Valentine’s weekend traffic in the suburbs of St. Louis. She was a beautiful woman. A beautiful and powerful woman, and now, an adulterous woman on top of that.
It didn’t matter he thought to himself; he still loved her dearly.
‘But will you always love her?’ some inner part of his mind asked himself. ‘No matter how far she takes the game?’
He couldn’t conclusively answer that question for himself, though he knew he wanted to find out.
‘You have only yourself to blame after all’ he thought to himself. ‘You’re the one who started the game in the first place.
The thought began to propel his imagination into the unknown future of just how far it might go, and he continued to watch his sultry brunette wife out of the corner of his eye. She had a round girlish face, almost angelic, and her shoulder-length dark-brown almost black hair hung in curls in ringlets framing her face. Her skin was smooth and fair, and she looked easily 20 years younger than him, even though their actual age difference was only 11 years. Cindy caught his sidelong glance and gave him a sly wink. She now matched his posture, watching him out of the corner of her eye as a sly grin spread across her face.
“Looking forward to festivities my little Angel?” she asked with just a hint of the sort of patronizing tone that a doting mother might use with her 9 year old son.
He swallowed hard, and looked back at the road. She grinned bigger, obviously aware of the pleasure-pain which the anticipation was creating for him.
“Don’t worry little Angel,” she put her hand on the inside of his right thigh, high-up near his crotch. “You’ve been a very good boy these past few days and Mommy will be sure you are properly rewarded.” He caught a whiff of her sweet perfume, and felt his whole body shudder with a now somewhat unfamiliar hot excitement when she touched him. Unfamiliar because she had become quite thrifty in rationing out her affections and even her touch to her husband. They’d been married for 8 years, but in the last year, Peter had brought some new ideas into the relationship, and in the past few months, a new dynamic had been set in motion.
As she drew hear hand away it just glanced against the hard plastic ‘cage’ in which his package was presently locked up. He flinched slightly from the bump, and her grin momentarily turned just a bit cruel, her lips pursing forward just a bit in mock sympathy for the discomfort. She chuckled lightly and turned her gaze away from him and back out the window.
He had been locked up for 4 days, the longest time she had kept him caged up so far. He hoped she would let him out soon, but realized that, in contrast to the autonomy he once had when they first began the game, she now exercised total control. That thought resonated in his mind . . . his wife now exercised total control over his penis and testicles; when he could get an erection, when he could masturbate, when he could ejaculate, and even the increasingly rare occurrence of intercourse . . . Once the initial period of unfamiliarity was past, she seemed to grow ever more comfortable in her role as master of his cock-cage, and holder of his key. Peter’s cock and balls were locked inside the “CB-6000,” a clear-plastic penis-shaped tube with a ring that wrapped around the scrotum and with a small padlock, made it effectively impossible to get an erection, or to get any sort of stimulation through the penis. The balls were still exposed, albeit ‘trussed-up’ by the scrotal-ring, and of course the perineal and anal area were still exposed . . . but it was effectively impossible for a man wearing a CB-6000 to masturbate by stroking the penis, or for that matter to even get an erection!
She was enjoying all of this a lot more than he would have ever imagined all those weeks past when he first bought the CB-6000 on the pretense that “he wanted to show his devotion to her.” She had fairly quickly seen through that, and based on how she had quickly taken control of things, she seemed to have a pretty clear sense for his true motivations.
Within a month she had started to force him to wear it all day at work, gradually increasing the duration of his cage-times, and even keeping him locked-up while he slept. Those first few nights that he had worn it through the night had been hard . . . but by the third and fourth night that he wore it he was actually able to get a good night sleep, and somehow his body seemed to figure out that a “piss-hard-on” was no longer tenable in the mornings.
He wondered at how it might be changing him, worried a bit actually . . . when they had first played with it, he noted that if he wore it for a few hours at a time, he seemed to actually have bigger erections and sometimes more forceful orgasms. But that was at the beginning, and now he was only being let out of it by his wife after several days. He wondered how that might change him as a man.
They arrived at their destination. He pulled the SUV into the Anderson Motel parking lot, right in front of room 247.
She pulled a small note from her handbag and looked at it. “Two forty seven . . . yep. That’s it! You remembered and drove right to it Little Angel!” Little Angel, that is what she had started referring to him since the game had become the defining feature in their relationships.
She turned toward him and leaned across the center of the truck, cradling the side of his head in one hand while stroking his cheek with the other. She looked into his brown eyes, and smiled at him with an exaggerated look of devotion while stroking his thinning dishwater blond hair. Again he felt that shudder of excited hot fire in his blood. His penis engorged and strained against its bonds, his heart palpitated, and he gazed into her eyes with eager anticipation.
“Don’t be afraid,” she taunted him with a baby-talk tone. “Mommie’s little Angel is gonna be just fine.”
‘What a beautiful woman my wife is’ he thought to himself. He glanced down at her cleavage, like a beautiful soft flower petal between her firm C-cup breasts. Her girlish face with those cute cheeks was framed by her dark brown shoulder-length hair which she had so elegantly arranged for today’s festivities as she put it.
He inhaled her sweet, sultry aroma . . . that expensive perfume he’d bought her last Valentine’s Day and which she had only started wearing recently on her “dates.”
There had been two of them so far. This was the third “date” she had been on in as many weeks, but the first one on which she had allowed him to accompany.
Of course she had told him about her boyfriend, Rod, but this would be the first time he actually met him. Peter felt his pelvic areas quiver as the thought of it darted into his mind, and felt a little bead of sweat run down his back and go cold when it hit the small of his back, just above the crack of his ass. He arched his back instinctively, partly to shift the pinching sensation by the plastic cage on his cock and balls but partly because of his imagination.
‘You’re a washed-up forty-six years old professor of business management at a community college’ he thought to himself. ‘You should be thankful to have such a hot wife 11-years younger than you, no matter what you have to do to please her . . . especially when she knows exactly how to push your buttons like she does . . . plus she makes 3 times what you do in her regional VP job.’
He forced a tight-jawed smile across his face and sat up straight making eye contact with her, thinking to himself ‘Be thankful buddy. You’ve got it made.’
She sat back in the passenger seat, took out her cell phone and made a call. “Hello? Rod?” she said.
“Hi!” her voice was now alive with a flirtatious excitement. “Yeah! We’re right outside!” she paused listening to the cell phone held up to her ear. “Yup, he’s here too!” another pause, as she glanced over at Peter and grinned.
Peter swallowed again, he could feel his heart beating faster.
“I know, its hard to believe isn’t it” she turned to look at her husband Peter Pearson, as if he was a strange and slightly silly piece of art work hanging from the driver’s-side sun visor of her Cadillac.
“That’s right” she continued her conversation with Rod, all the while gazing at Peter with a sly almost withering gaze. “I told him all about it, and he’s actually very excited to see us together.”
Peter could feel a throb in his loins when he heard his wife tell the man on the other end what it was he wanted.
“I know, hard to believe isn’t it?” she continued her conversation, grinning and shaking her head slightly as she continued to sizeup her husband’s five-feet ten 165-pound frame. “But I think he knows who is boss now . . . yeah, that’s right, he’s locked up in it right now.” Cindy gazed down at his lap and a dismissive smirk spread across her face.
Peter was nearly frozen in place. He was gripping the arm rest tightly, his heart beating rapidly and perspiration had broken out on his brow. ‘Holy Shit!’ he thought to himself. ‘It really is happening! The fantasy is coming true!’ For months, if not years Peter’s sexual fantasies had been dominated by one theme: his wife having incredibly hot, carnal sex with other men. The most arousing versions of the fantasy were scenarios where he was helpless, locked in his cage, and commanded by his beautiful younger wife to watch as she behaved like a total whore with other men. He had first communicated this fantasy to her at least two years ago, and it had taken time, repetition, and gradual change for it to become the reality that it was finally becoming today.
Now that it was happening, Peter felt an overwhelming suite of emotions, but he was sure if it was pure terror, or terror mixed with excitement. He wondered now at this last minute if he had made the biggest mistake of his life . . .
Cindy continued her telephone conversation with her ‘boyfriend’ inside the motel room right in front of where they were parked. “So you’re sure you’d be okay if he comes in too?” Cindy asked Rod. “Yeah, we can definitely do that too if you want. I think he’d like that,” Cindy winked at Peter, and he felt his cock throb again. It was starting to pinch from the semi-erection that was taking over inside the cage.
Peter’s heart was beating now so fast he wondered if he might have a heart attack, his mouth was dry and he had a lump in his throat. He suddenly realized he was clenching the arm rest on the driver’s side door of the Cadillac, and reflexively tried to relax.
“Okay,” Cindy said demurely as she finished her conversation with Rod, and closed her phone “we’ll come right in . . .”
Chapter Two “Kissing the Devil”
Just as Cindy put away her cell phone the door to room 247 swung open and there was Rod standing just inside the door.
Peter swallowed hard. All moisture had now evaporated from his mouth, and the lump in his throat felt like a boulder. He stared wide-eyed at Rod, frozen with a combination of excitement, dread, eager anticipation, and shame.
“Nice lookin’ guy isn’t he?” Cindy smirked. “You told me to take my pick, and that is what I did”
Peter glanced at her to see she was smiling like a vixen. He looked back at Rod as she got out of the SUV and started toward the door.
Rod was everything he was not. Six-foot-three, and dashingly handsome. Mediterranean ancestry of some sort from the look of him. He was wearing a tight V-neck sweater that accentuated his well-defined arm muscles, and cut pecs and abs. Whereas Peter was a middle-aged slightly balding man with a slight belly, Rod was quite literally a ‘hunk.’ ‘Holy crap . . .’ was all Peter could think to himself.
Peter sat frozen in the driver’s seat, feeling his little tool shrink up as the terror of what was about to happen coursed through his body. ‘Oh My God!’ he thought to himself. ‘My wife’s boyfriend is absolutely beautiful! How can I possibly compete!?’
His wife stepped into the doorway of the motel room and embraced Rod. They kissed passionately, and Peter watched transfixed as this other man put his hand on his wife’s lower back, just above her perky full-hipped butt.
Peter’s mind race. ‘Good Lord!’ he thought. ‘For so long you’ve fantasized about this, and now its actually going to happen!’ He wasn’t sure if it was euphoria, or terror or some combination of both that gripped his whole body and mind.
She turned and spoke, he could just make out what she said with the car windows rolled up. “Well, are you gonna just sit there or are you gonna come in?”
Without even thinking, he got out of the car and headed for the door. He suddenly felt as if he was not really in control of his body movements, as if he was just a spectator watching himself open the car door, get out, shut and lock it and walk toward the motel room where his wife was just about to have a hot sexual encounter with a man she met on a business trip. Rod and Cindy moved out of the doorway and into the room to let him enter.
The motel room smelled foreign, a combination of cheap cleaning fluids, smoke, and the hundreds of strangers who had passed through.
“Go ahead and shut the door and lock it Peter,” Rod told him. He did as he was told.
Rod made eye contact with him as he extended his right hand. The two men shook hands. “Cindy tells me you’ve been going on for months about some fantasy huh?” Rod had a deep-toned and assertive yet boyish voice. He was gazing right into Peter’s eyes with utter confidence as he stood there embracing Peter’s wife Cindy in his left arm and giving Peter’s little hand a good solid shake with his right.
Peter shook his head meekly, and felt his cock and balls shrink smaller inside their cage as the fear and anticipation swelled in him.
Cindy was watching him too, grinning. Now she looked so foreign to him, almost like another woman, like a cat cruelly toying with a mouse. Like a mother teasing her little son for his unfailing, and childish devotion. He made eye-contact with her and in a flash he saw the thought she was transmitting to him in her expression, ‘This is what you said you wanted you silly little man . . .’
Rod continued to address Peter “You really think you wanna see your wife get fucked by another man eh?”
All Peter could do was meekly shake his head in affirmation, after all, it was true. It was his continual blathering on and on about this fantasy all these months that had led up to this situation. Now he wondered if it was the biggest mistake of his life.
“Well I’m happy to oblige Pal,” Peter said as swooped Cindy back one step wrapped in his left arm and stroked his right arm across her flat stomach. “Your wife is hot,” Rod said as he made eye contact with the Cindy. Peter guessed that Rod could not have been older than 28 probably more like 25, easily ten-years younger than Cindy.
“And she is one good lay, let me tell ya” Rod continued. Cindy and Rod leaned toward each other and as if magnetically drawn began to kiss right in front of Peter.
Feeling an unbearable combination of powerful negative and positive emotions, Peter shifted on his feet as if to move over toward the door.
“Stop right there!” Cindy admonished him. “You know the rules. When you have the cage on, I tell you to jump and you say how high.” Peter froze in place, gazing down at the floor like a scared little boy. He shook his head and said very quietly “Sorry Mistress.”
“Mistress,” that is what she had demanded he refer to her as these past few weeks.
Rod chuckled lightly to himself while Cindy admonished her husband. Peter gazed down at the floor sheepishly, but caught a glimpse of Rod gazing at him with bemused disdain. Rod shook his head as if he was saying to himself ‘Sheeze, what a pathetic wimp . . . this is gonna be fun.’
Rod had one of those dark tans like he spent time in tanning booths, and his arms were cut- and his abs chiseled. He wore cologne, and had an arrogant look about him. Cindy had met him at an annual business convention three weeks earlier. He was an assistant to a Vice President of marketing for the upper Midwest, based out of Chicago. Their first “date” had been in the hotel where the convention was held. For the second “date” they had both driven half-way and met at a motel in central Illinois. Now they were on their third date, and Cindy had brought her husband along so he could watch her have hot sex with her boyfriend.
In that three week time-span since she and Rod had first hooked-up in the Radisson in Chicago, she had gone from keeping Peter caged for 2 days at a time to 3 days at a time. During that time-span she had allowed him wank-off whenever she let him out of his cage; but the last time Peter had actually penetrated his wife was twenty-three days ago, two nights before she had departed on her business trip to Chicago. In short, ever since Rod had become a feature in her life, Peter had not had intercourse with his wife.
He wondered when the next time would be when he would get to put his penis inside his wife . . . at this point, he would have been thrilled even to just get a hand-job, let alone fellatio.
Rod and his wife continued to kiss, gently and tenderly . . . As Peter resigned himself to his role, and watched them his mind replayed the outline of the events of the last few weeks.
Today was Saturday, Sept 19th, and four days ago on the morning of the Wednesday Sept 16th was the last time she had let him out of his cage. On that particular morning she had looked and smelled especially sexy as they went about their morning routine in the bathroom.
The routine that had settled in these past weeks was for her to let him out first thing in the morning so he could clean himself and his cage in the shower, and reapply fresh Vaseline to the inside of the cock-ring and penis-sheath.
Usually, before she let him out of his cage, she first made him lick her until she had several orgasms; sometimes she just used her vibrator on herself while he watched, encased in his plastic CB-6000 male chastity device, and unable to much more than get a mild sense of arousal from rocking his cock and balls gently back and forth. When she had had her fill of pleasure, she would make him kneel in front of her and give him the little key so that he could let himself out of his cage. A couple times she allowed him to lay his cheek on her thigh so he could smell her wet vagina while he wanked-off.
Once she forced his head down on the ground with her foot while he jacked off. The way she forced his head down with her foot caused his butt to stick up in the air and just as he reached climax and blew his spunk on the bathroom floor she smacked his ass lightly with her hand sending ripples of pleasure pain through his body. As he watched her kissing her boyfriend now, getting increasingly hot and aroused with each passing moment, he felt an incredible sense of longing for that moment now. Even just a smack from her could be ecstatic. He watched the young man and his wife kissing and he felt an incredible mixture of emotions: rage, helplessness, jealousy, excitement, and submission. Rod was a handsome man, Peter noted the large bulge in his pants which Cindy periodically rubbed through the man’s pants. In terms of attractiveness, Rod was much more Cindy’s match than Peter was. He had always wondered if he was not really enough for her, and now he knew . . . as she and Rod madeout standing three-feet in front of him, she glanced over at him momentarily, her gaze was spacey, as if the lust were a powerful drug, clouding her perception and reason. Peter could tell by how incredibly hot and excited she was that this really was something she had been longing for just as his fantasies had declared.
On the last day she had let him out of his cage, four days ago on Wednesday Sept 16th, she had brought out a new toy, a small leather riding crop. As with the previous sessions, she had made him kneel on the cold bathroom tile-floor and stood in front of him so her aroma wafted in his face as he masturbated.
“You like that smell dontcha Angel?” she had said to him soothingly while he stroked his meat and groaned in pleasure. But this time, when he had leaned forward to kiss her pubic region, she had got suddenly very angry.
“BAD BOY!” she shouted as she swacked his ass with her riding crop. “Get your hands behind your back and your put face down on the floor!” she commanded.
He quickly let go of his throbbing member, just seconds before he would have ejaculated, relieving three-days of pent up tension.
“I TOLD YOU last time that I am the boss!” she reprimanded him. “You do exactly as I say, and do only what I tell you to do!” She gave his ass another punitive swat, this time a bit harder. He winced and struggled not to cover his butt with his hands.
She swatted him a third and fourth time, harder still in quick succession, “Do you understand me know you little fuck!?”
He moaned, “Yes! Yes, mistress! I . . . I understand.” He had stammered, as the awareness of the forces his incessant fantasizing had set loose began to dawn on him.
“Put your cage back on NOW!” she had commanded him. It had been difficult to stuff his still semi-erect cock back into the CB-6000 but with her standing over him menacingly with the riding crop, somehow he had managed to get the swelling to abate and force his 5” dick back into the small plastic cock-sheath. Getting the cock ring on and the collar snapping the sheath the ring hooked together those four days ago had felt like a prison door clanging shut. She had handed him the padlock and watched as he locked himself up for her. So while it had been a mere four days since he had had the cock-cage off, today it was a full-week since he had come.
“You are the one who wanted it this way little Peter boy,” she had told him. “We’ve gone too far for you to back down now. You either go along, or you never get me at all, do you understand?”
“You’re the boss, and I only do what you tell me to do.”
Those were the words he had told her four days ago, and those were the words he was living out now as he watched his wife passionately French-kissing a strange handsome young man in a motel room in St. Louis. He resigned himself to his fate, and resolved to get on with and enjoy it as best he could.
Chapter Three “Serving to Please”
Peter glanced down at his watch furtively, hoping that Cindy would not see him do it. It was 5:37PM on a cool Saturday evening in September. He and his wife and a young man she had met three weeks earlier in Chicago were in a motel room in a suburb of St. Louis. Peter could here the whirring sound of the highway traffic right behind the building, almost as audible as the heavy breathing and periodic light moans coming from his wife and her boyfriend, Rod.
Peter stood in the corner of the room near the door and the TV set, and watched them as their passion and arousal slowly grew and grew. They were only about 5-feet away, standing right there at the foot of the bed. It was surreal and almost hard for him to believe. He had fantasized about this for so long, years really. When they left the house in Crystal City at 3:05, this had still been a fantasy, but now here it was—he glanced at his watch again—5: 39 and counting, and his longtime fantasy was finally coming true. At first the sheer terror caused by the novelty of it all had made Peter shinkup in his cage, causing it to hang lower in his trousers as the cock-sheath and ring grew looser around his diminishing equipment and slide down. But now, as he watched them together, and submitted to the moment, he was getting steadily more and more excited. He had after all dreamed of this hundreds of times while jacking off in the faculty lavatory at work, at home, in airplanes, etc.
Rod was clearly enjoying it a lot. You could tell from the look on his face that he was a real asshole, just the type of good-looking smooth talker who would relish the humiliation he could inflict by fucking another man’s wife right in front of him, especially an older, less dashing, and less dominant guy like Peter. Peter had always felt a strange sense of dread and joy that his wife was so much better looking than he was and ten-years younger on top of that. He watched them with increasingly rapt attention. She really was an incredibly beautiful woman; she had a quintessentially ‘booty-call’ type of ass, a cute almost cherub like face, and firm medium-sized breasts.
Their kissing had grown more and more passionate and nasty. Rod was now kissing his wife with wide-mouth French kisses. He grasped her head in his hands as he they snaked their tongues in and out of one another’s mouths. Peter could see in the way that Cindy was crushed up against Rods muscular young body that she was entirely overcome with lust. She glanced over at her husband again, to make sure he was watching and then darted her tongue into Rod’s mouth with animalistic lust.
Peter watched, helpless, ashamed, but increasingly aroused as his wife of 8 years made out with a man who was practically young enough to be his son. Cindy paused in her ravishing of Rod’s neck and whispered in his ear. Rod turned to look at Peter as Cindy did the same.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said to her. “Go ahead and make ‘em.”
Cindy took a couple steps toward her husband as Rod stepped back to the bed and picked up his half-drunk beer. She bent over and took the riding crop out of the bed she had laid on the motel room floor between the bed and the door. She stood facing Peter and made eye contact with him.
“Now,” she began to address him, but he averted his gaze down at the floor in shame.
“LOOK! at me when I talk to you!” she commanded, and he did was he was told.
“Now,” she began again, but he cut in talking over her.
“Cindy, you’re really going to go through with this . . .” he whimpered sheepishly.
“Of course I am Peter. You’re the one who wanted it this way.” In her expression, he could see a glimmer of some strange hint of vindictiveness, or was it just meanness?
“Besides, Rod and I have already ‘gone through with this’ twice before.” She grinned slightly as she saw how those words made her husband wriggle just a bit. “He is a really hot fuck. You were totally right of course, all these months that you’ve been so caught up in these fantasies. A young hot stud like him is exactly what I’ve been missing.” She glanced back at Rod and they smiled at each other as they made eye contact. She turned back to Peter who had a look of resigned fear on his face, she could only imagine how excited he was.
“Cindy I . . .” Peter began, but she cut him off. “No you listen. This is going to happen, right now. I need to get fucked by a real man” she told him matter of factly.
“Its not that I don’t love you anymore, its just that, well . . . you know lust.” Peter stood silent, now fully aware that he had zero control over the situation that his own perverse fantasies had created.
“Now if I get anymore backtalk out of you, I’ll just call you a cab and make you go home, and you won’t even get to watch, let alone get out and wank-off.” She warned him. “You do want to watch don’t you?”
Peter shook his head yes.
“Good,” she grinned back at Rod. She turned back to her husband. “Now I’m going to tell you this only once. Speak only when you are spoken to, and do not so much as make a muscle unless you are told to do so. Do you understand?”
Peter shook his head yes.
“You are here to watch me get my pleasure, just like you’ve been telling me you always fantasize about. So don’t spoil it or you will definitely be going home in a cab, and I might never let you out of that contraption of yours again!” Her tone was patronizing and chastising, and it was making Peter a bit wobbly with excitement and anticipation. “Do you understand me!?” she asked.
Peter shook his head yes.
“That is one well-disciplined little cuckold bitch you got there honey,” Rod said chuckling.
“He is quite a piece of work, isn’t he?” Cindy replied. “Alright lets get started” she said. “First take off all your clothes.”
Peter paused for just a moment, hesitant to take off his close revealing his shameful caged cock and balls with Rod watching. “NOW!” Cindy shouted as she swacked him with the riding crop.
Peter quickly began to pull off his shirt. He watched Rod out of the corner of his eye as he unzipped his trousers and let them drop to the floor.
At first site of the CB-6000 encasing Peter’s stuff, Rod’s expression turned to bemused wide-eyed amazement. “Well will ya look at that!” Rod muttered “You really do have a little cuckold slave there dontcha.”
“Stop!” Cindy ordered as Peter began to bend down to slide his trousers off his feet. “Turn around when you bend over so we can see the rear view.”
Peter did as he was told and as he bent at the waist to slide off his trousers, shoes and socks, he made sure to arch his back so that the rear view was accentuated for their inspection. He caught a glimpse of Rod shaking his head in affirmation as he and Cindy made eye contact. Suddenly Cindy gave him a swat on the bottom with the crop, causing him to wince and wobble as he removed the second pants-leg.
“Stop sticking out your little faggot ass and get on your knees,” she commanded, pointing to a spot just a couple feet in front of the bed.
Peter’s cock and balls were now engorged to maximum size inside the chastity cage, and the slight pressure was an intoxicating mixture of pleasure-pain.
Cindy stood just a couple feet in front of where Peter was kneeling and motioned Rod over to her. “Now watch how a real man treats a woman,” she said.
Rod and Cindy began to make out again, just a foot or two right in front of where Peter was kneeling, naked, and caged in his chastity cage. Peter could feel the cool air in the motel room, and the barely audible hiss of the highway traffic. The sound of Rod and his wife making-out was really making him hot, and he desperate wanted to stroke his meat or at least pinch his nipples. At least he could sort of arch his back and rock gentle causing his cock and balls to sway to and fro, sending slight sensation into his prostate region. As he watched them making out, with increasing passion, a sense of anticipation for what was about to happen swelled within him. He couldn’t help gazing at Rod’s crotch where there was an obvious and large bulge.
Cindy’s hand moved over Rod’s bulge and squeezed it gently, “You like that eh?” she said down to her pathetic kneeling husband. She and Rod both gazed down at him dismissively.
“Well you are in for a treat my little cuckold whore, cause my man here has got everything that you don’t have in the penis-department.” With that Cindy dropped down to her knees, her face now at face level with Rod’s crotch, and her husband’s face.
She unzipped Rod’s fly, and helped him step out of his trousers. Rod’s tight underwear looked like they were about to burst at the seams. Just before she pulled down Rod’s underwear, Cindy looked right at her husband, “Now do not take your eyes off the prize, you understand.”
She pulled down Rod’s shorts, and Peter was amazed. Rod was just partly erect but he was already close to what must have been seven inches in length, and equally thick too. Peter realized that there was no way he could compete with that shlong; his pecker was just at 5-inches when it was at totally max erection.
Cindy took Rod’s tool in her mouth, and began to suck and kiss it, slowly at first but then with increasing vigor. For several minutes, Peter watched as his wife sucked another man’s cock right in front of him. She periodically giggled as she looked up to make eye contact with Rod. She slurped, and sucked and kissed the big dick as it slowly throbbed and grew to full size . . . ‘Good God’ Peter thought to himself. ‘That thing must be nearly eight inches long.’ Cindy’s little hand didn’t even wrap all the way around it.
Cindy continued to give Rod a slow passionate blow job as Peter watched intently, listening to her slurp, and moan and giggle. “Mmmm . . . mmmm . . . unggghh” she moaned, “You . . . mmmmm . . . have got . . . *slurp* . . . a fine cock . . .” Cindy glanced at her husband to make sure he was watching closely and enjoying himself.
She held Rod’s cock in her hand and turned it toward Peter just a bit, “Mmm, its really good,” she said. Peter slouched down and back a bit as the cock moved toward his face. “You wanna try?”
Peter sheepishly shook his head as he turned his gaze down at the carpet. Rod turned one step toward Peter as Cindy continued to hold Rod’s cock toward her husband’s mouth.
Slowly, hesitantly Peter began to rise up toward the waiting shlong, his lips parting and his eyes locked on target.
Just as he was about to make lip-contact with Rod’s dick, Rod stepped back laughing. “Ha! Will you look at that!” he said to Cindy. “He really is a total fucking Cuck whore!”
Cindy was now staring at her husband with a look of mildly amazed realization “You’re right” she said. “He is a pathetic little bitch.”
Now she addressed her husband, “Now that I know what you really want, I truly do have total control over you my little angel.” She and Rod now stood up embracing, “Now you just watch and be a good boy, and maybe Mommies’ little angel will get what he wants.”
She and Rod now knelt on the bed resuming making-out as he peeled off her clothes.
 TAKE MY WIFE |
 FUCK ME |
Poster:
giganite