“Open your mouth, you little brat,” he murmured, his low voice matching the terribly seductive movement of his finger. “You’re going to do this very often from now on.”
I felt my forehead crease hard as the thought took hold of my mind.Every day? Will he make me suck his penis when he gets home from work?
Tothankhim… Rick had said that, hadn’t he… that I must show my gratitude for my whipping this obscene way, with his hardness in my mouth, my voice lost to the rigid gag of his thrusting manhood. Would I have to thank him that way every day, for working so hard, for supporting his young wife in the luxury lifestyle he had given her thanks to his high-paying job?
My face went hot at the monstrous idea, the picture of my nakedness, kneeling daily before Rick, in his easy chair maybe, to do as he had commanded. I looked at the hard length of the penis, my heart racing.
Rick gripped my bottom a little tighter, and I let out a cry of discomfort and opened my mouth.
He straightened up, and the hand that had just been between my legs took gentle hold of my chin, the moist fingertips stroking gently underneath.
“Tongue out,” my husband murmured.
A new surge of heat came into my cheeks as I obeyed. Rick’s huge penis, in his left hand, came closer. I heard a little sob of shame and need rise from my chest.
“Look at me now,” Rick said, and I did. I saw his dark eyes gazing down at the lewd spectacle of his using his young bride in a new way. From outside myself, as the observer, I heard the submissive whimper I gave as he laid his hard cock on my tongue.
“So pretty,” he said. “Such a pretty little slut, with a cock in her mouth.”
My body shook with the jolt of arousal his degrading words had caused. Reflexively, without any thought, my right hand moved from my side to in front of me, between my thighs. I had never knowingly touched myself that way, let alone actually played with myself. Had something changed, now that I had seen my husband jerking himself off in front of me?
“Naughty girl,” Rick said, his eyes narrowing and a little smile appearing on his face as he noticed my hand, only a fraction of a second later than I had realized myself that I had started to rub my clit. At the same time, he moved his left hand to the back of my head. Our eyes remained locked on each other’s faces as slowly and gently he thrust his hips forward to fill my mouth with his manhood.
My two middle fingers had frozen there, on the wrinkly hood of the little bud that seemed to tingle more fiercely the more my husband degraded me. I wondered suddenly if Rick meant to punish me for masturbating, and to my dismay the idea just made me start to move those wicked fingers again.
“Keep going,” Rick said, his voice sounding thick with what I knew must be the pleasure my little mouth gave his cock as he moved it slowly in and out. I tasted my pussy for the first time, my blush growing even fiercer at the naughtiness of this wifely duty. I tasted salt from his exertions in disciplining me and enjoying me so forcefully. “Put your fingers inside your pussy and get some of that sweet juice. Spread it on your clit. I want you to make yourself come with me in your mouth. That will help you learn.”
“Oh, God,” I tried to say, around my husband’s thrusting penis. It came out as a desperate, muffled little cry. If Rick cared at all to know what I wanted to express, he didn’t show it.
“Shh,” he murmured. “Just take it. Just take it now.”
He held my head firmly and leaned forward with my hips, pressing the thick, rigid pole of his erection further into my mouth than he had yet.
I cried out as my fingers obeyed his lewd instructions. I ran the two middle ones down further. I found the place where he had, at last, really fucked his young bride. I gave a little whimper around his manhood as I discovered just how slippery and soaking with my need my hot sheath had become. I found more than enough of my wanton wetness to spread up along my sensitive inner lips and onto the complexity of my bashful clit’s hiding place.
At least your clit is bashful, you filthy little slut,the observing part of me thought, making my hips buck as I tried desperately to please my lord and master with my virgin mouth. I whimpered again as I began to teach myself to masturbate, hot shame and hot sexual arousal thrilling through me together. To my amazement, I could feel another orgasm start to build inside me, in that wicked place, that nexus of emotion and sensation and pure need… the region just below my tummy that had since this morning begun to get so very complicated.
It started with your jeans on, over his knee in the airport lounge, said the observer.Now you’re naked with your husband’s cock deep in your throat… having your face fucked… playing with your hot, wet cunt.
“Other hand on your bottom,” Rick commanded. “Middle finger inside that little asshole. Right now, Dee.”
Our gazes had stayed intertwined through what had started to seem a dizzying escalation of my degrading training, my husband’s demonstration of a boundless dominance that could, if he wanted, simply overwhelm me. And yet I saw in his face that he would never give me more than I could take.
Of course not,the observer commented, sending a jolt to my pussy that pushed me even closer to the different kind of climax that lay just out of reach, a mastered orgasm that I felt would somehow put me in my place… would teach me to serve Rick this way every day, of my own choice, in hope of earning the rewards of pleasure that only he could give.He can’t give that greedy cunt more than you can bear, because a dirty whore like you can never have enough, can she?
The other part of me, the part I knew had to represent the real me… the embodied girl, naked on her knees in front of her older bridegroom with his enormous cock almost to the back of her throat… she had something like thoughts, too—not the connected, more or less coherent kind the voyeuristic observer had with her obscene, humiliating narration, but…
Oh, God… oh, no… please…oh, please, Ricky… sir… master…
My left hand went behind me. I cried out at the feeling of it on my whipped bottom-cheeks. My own hand, and not my own, because my husband had commanded me to put it there as a reminder of my lesson. Not my own because I belonged to him… his bride… his wife… his property, to do as he liked with, to use as he chose to use me.
My middle finger…
Oh, no… I can’t… I can’t touch myself… not there…
I touched the tiny ring. I cried out again, and I pushed my fingertip inside.
He’s going to fuck you there, tomorrow night,said the voyeur.He doesn’t care that it’s going to hurt you. Hewantsit to hurt you… because you have to learn, you bratty… little…