My work trip is coming to an end. It was uneventfull, yet the deals I was hoping to make, did come through. So that's great. There were no flirtatious nor sexual encounters, I called my wife every day and we messaged regularly.
Kinda boring, right? Well, as it turns out, she had a surprise prepared for me.
"To be used or to be spoiled?" reads the single line of text she sends me on the evening before I return home.
I send only a single question mark back to her via text, as I don't understand what she means.
"Don't be naive. When you come home I want you. What do you choose?"
Her text message makes me pause for a moment, I am surprised by the direct tone and, even more, by the content that slowly dawns on me. I don't have to think long. Of course I want to be spoiled, but the need to be used is stronger. So I text back "Being used."
When I come home after my trip, I am not met at the front door as usual with a sweet smile and a kiss. Instead I see a handwritten note. "Shower, don't put on any clothes and go to the attic." Amazed at how this homecoming turnes out in the first minute, I walk up the stairs. I don't see her there either. The light in the bathroom has been turned on, a freshly washed towel is ready. Although I am surprised at the turn of events, I follow the instructions, shower quickly and then go to the attic, expecting to meet her there.
All I find is another note: "Put on the eye mask, knock on the door, keep your mouth shut and don't make a sound." Boy, what is this? I think to myself. I'm too curious and find it too exciting not to follow the directions. So I do as it says.
In a case next to it is a black eye mask. I know the thing, this really doesn't let any light through; in fact it is a blindfold. After I knock, I hear the attic door open. The first thing I notice is the smell of her shower foam. Funny how details like that stand out when you can't see anything anymore. I am led in by my wrist to what I estimate to be the center of the room.
Rose kisses me. But her kiss is not sweet, rather businesslike. She doesn't say a word, that's also unusual. It is clear who is in control here and I feel like there is a charge in the air, in anticipation of what is to come.
Rose tells me to lie down. Fortunately the hot air heating is on, I recognize the sound and feel the warmth. She has clearly planned ahead. That is also typical for her. I feel the carpet beneath me and am glad that at least I'm not lying on the cold vinyl.
As soon as I lay down, I feel her carefully putting a band around each of my wrists. She tells me to spread my arms and of course I oblige. I hear her shuffling around me and first I feel my left wrist and arm being tied, then my right wrist and arm are also being fixated. If I didn't find it so exciting, I would protest against the force with which she fastens my arms outstretched.
Soon she is done and the next command I hear is "put your legs together". She wraps something around my knees to my ankles. No half measures now either, she wraps me up very tightly, it seems like here too with some kind of band or belt. And now she pulls everything very tightly and turns my legs into a bundle.
I hear her get up and walk away. A signal that this is it? Fortunately, I can still move my legs, shift a bit from left to right and even lift them up a bit. It turns out to be an illusion if I think that this freedom is still granted to me; I am again mistaken in her carefulness and preparations. At my ankles she attaches another rope or something to my tied legs and pulls that very tight too. Judging by the toiling and stumbling, that rope is being secured to something. I immediately notice the effect: she has also denied me the last freedom of motion in my legs.
She pushes a pillow under my head and then Rose says with audible satisfaction that she has finished the preparations. Although I still find it all exciting, I am beginning to doubt whether I have made the right choice between being spoiled or being used. If she makes these extensive preparations, I don't really dare to think ahead.
I haven't seen her up to this point and there wasn't any touch, other than the positioning and tying of my body. I only notice she's naked when she rubs her breasts and the rest of her body on me. Of course that doesn't miss its effect. I was already getting hard, now my lust is only growing further. That is - of course - exactly her intended effect.
"Have you masturbated this week?" The question has a directness that I have not been used to from her for a long time. "No," I answer truthfully. "Good, all the more to work with... But you know that you will come immediately when I touch you. So that load has to come out first." Immediately afterwards she starts stimulating my penis. It is already stiff with excitement, but apparently not yet enough to her liking. She pulls my foreskin back even further to better work the glans. I feel scratching, biting and hard sucking. And to vary all the sensations she also lightly caresses it and blows gently over it. Already I find it difficult to keep it all in, exactly as she intends.
She slowly slides her hands over the full length of my member and after jerking me off hard twice, it shows how well she knows my body: I cum. A large supply of stored semen squirts out. I feel that it's a lot.
However, the familiar feeling of warm semen on my stomach is missing. Where before my ejaculation ended on my stomach, I now feel nothing. Instead I hear chuckling and a sound I can't identify. Something plastic?
I don't have to guess for long. "Eat it" is the simple, but oh so difficult instruction. "That's what you wanted, right?" Inwardly I have to agree with her. Indeed, the thought of having to eat my own cum is incredibly exciting. Probably a combination of taboo and horniness. However, once the seed has been discharged and the horniness has subsided, the fantasy is no longer attractive. But she won't let me get away with that. There is no point in whining, backing down and saying no. On the contrary, it seems as if her determination is growing. "Yes, this time you will eat it. You chose to be used, so accept the consequences. This is just the beginning, so don't make it difficult for me by forcing you... You know what, I'll help you. I have a spoon and I'll feed you. But you'll eat it!"
She grabs my head and forces my mouth open with her thumb and index finger. I feel a warm liquid on my tongue, after which it runs further into my mouth. I expect to taste cum, but it turns out to be her saliva and I hear her spit in my mouth and empty her mouth above my head. I'm beginning to understand what it means to be used.
Then comes the spoon, with a generous scoop of cum and then another. And another one. The salty liquid is resolutely spooned into my mouth. It was indeed a large stash that I had saved up. If only I had masturbated, flashes through my mind. But at the same time I also know that I want to be forced... Those paradoxical fragments of thoughts are maddening. I don't get a chance to philosophize further, the here and now demands all my attention. I feel the jelly-like substance of cum on my tongue and she also rubs some of it on my face and into my nose. I really find that unpleasant and I try to turn my head away. But her hold is strong and Rose leaves me no choice but to surrender completely to her will. After the third spoonful of cum she lets go of my mouth and pinches my nose. An annoying but effective trick to force me to swallow. I am left with a salty taste in my mouth, but I am otherwise happy that this task is over. This will be it, I think with some relief.
"There you go. You're a good boy, the first tension is gone, now I'm going to use you for my own pleasure."
My penis has softened, but that doesn't stop her. Her hands and mouth know what to do and it doesn't take long before my member is ready again. I still can't see anything, so I try to interpret every movement and sound, to prepare myself for what's to come.
I feel her sitting on me and without any further words, she leads me inside and fucks me. Hard.
Another surprise: she's very wet and cleanly shaven. Did she use lube? That would mean that she also planned that in advance. Or is it her own juices that make it so delicious to slide in her? That would mean she still horny for me. Another bonus after a difficult sex life in the past years. But there is little mental space to think about those things. The physical stimuli are overwhelming and require all the attention of my head and body. It's been a long time since we made love like this, but it still feels familiar. She listens to my breathing, and pays attention to my muscle tension, and I notice that she varies the pace of her movements. She tries to delay my climax as long as possible, she clearly wants to enjoy that cock for herself.
