Chapter III
The knickers
We left as the Sun dipped below the horizon and my wife threatened to "put" me in ladies underwear as a punishment if I was ever errant. Christina and Bryn played with power exchange as a 24/7 dynamic but for Erin and myself it was more of a bedroom activity. While I wanted to go deeper and further in my fantasies, I wasn't sure how much I'd feel to be a submissive all the time.
It was something we'd talked about; something we'd discussed a lot. In truth, I wanted to try it, desperate to fall further into the world of kink and depravity, but wanted Erin to make that call. She had to want it too, and I still wanted to sometimes be able to passionately claim sex from my wife.
And we needed to take it slowly. One step at a time.
Moments after arriving home we abandoned our unpacking. I excitedly guided my tipsy wife into a bare room with a mattress and threw her onto the springs. She fleured seductively. Laughing as her ankles were seized by her horny husband, tearing at her dirty, sweaty clothes.
Passion flowed through my veins; she responded appreciatively, sighing as my fingers clawed at her flimsy panties and swept the moist garment from her body. Her eyes explained everything, our lips met as my touch flowed lovingly over her delicate button and plundered her sopping cunt.
She groaned, she cried, she swore and she bucked her hips, savouring her orgasm that I ripped from her aroused, squirming body. Her eyes begged for more, my lips kissed her sensuous clit.
Sapid floral honey flowed into my senses, a delicious aroma of lust and sin. I adored her taste, lapping gently at her cunt and swirling my tongue over her slippery button until her legs quivered and her breathless moans were replaced by echoing screams.
And lastly my cock looted her hole, filling my wife. My hands held the backs of her knees as I drove my cock deep into her. My flesh slapped against hers, her nipples saluted me and her smell of intense arousal filled the room as I hammered my cock into the writhing woman until I came, ejaculating into my loving wife.
Our eyes met, she cleared her throat. "Go down on me."
"Sure, I'll just..."
"No. Now." Her tone was commanding yet slightly uncertain. A moment passed, neither of us moved. My shrinking cock slipped from her drenched cunt as her order ticked away in my mind.
Could I go down on my wife after cumming inside of her? We'd done a few things similar but never after a pussy full of semen. But I loved my wife and I adored my domme, and this was an order. Sliding down her body I tentatively poked my tongue and pressed it against the slippery mess oozing from her cunt.
It was like being with Holly again; my mind transported back to my days as a horny teenager satisfying the most promiscuous girl in the town. I'd not done it since.
My cum mixed with her floral slipperiness was far from unpleasant: a musky taste that filled my nostrils and lingered on my tongue as my consciousness stumbled with what I was being forced to eat.
For the first time since I'd been with the unfaithful Holly I was consuming my own semen. The contents of her cunt slid across my tongue: the thick gloopy produce of my testicles gliding down my throat as my wife bucked her hips and her hands stroked her glistening skin.
She rocked, pressing her cunt into my face as my tongue swirled against her clit and my cum drained onto me. My face was slippery and wet; semen dripped onto my chin. I felt like a cheap whore, but my cock swelled into an erection as my wife squealed and groaned, panting loudly as her body was rocked by an explosive climax.
I'll never forget the expression on her face when I rose from between her legs: a mixture of total satisfaction and exhaustion. She slumped against the tired mattress, taking deep lungfuls of air. It was, undoubtedly some of the best sex we'd ever had.
And every day that week was the same, almost. My gorgeous brunette would meet our neighbour for lunch in the small Cheshire town and that evening, after the children were tucked up in bed, she would pounce. Demanding sex with ever more filthier fantasies being vocalised.
On Monday, she talked about whippings and beatings; she loaded hardcore female domination pornography onto her tablet as we fondled with each other's genitals. She squirmed and came several times as my finger ground against her clitoris and buried itself into her cunt.
She became adept at taking me to the point of my climax and backing off: edging me until I was almost begging her to let me come. Her stout expression, riding on the back of her umpteenth orgasm, was denial, making me watch her sadistic depravity as her fingers glided over the head of my prick.
The poor men in her videos were well beaten: savage whippings and desperately fierce beatings were interspersed with total sadism. The mistresses humiliated them by forcing them into bisexual positions, kicking them in their genitals or just plowing their arses with giant strap-ons.
"I want to do that to you," my wife admitted as my horniness peaked. She drew my cock to the edge of the orgasm and backed off with undisguised glee. "We can go so much further."
And in my incredibly heightened state of lust, a kick in the balls by the love of my life was almost appealing. Indeed, everything was! She giggled as we watched another couple of videos and as the last scene drew to a close, she took my cock towards the precipice.
I watched as two "slaves" were in a 69 position: desperately fellating the thick cocks stuffed into their mouths and groaning as the leather-clad women slashed weaponry against a pair of taut buttocks. My eyes were torn by the erotic imagery on the screen, my wife's fingers brought me into an intense, squealing climax that swept through my body and left me breathless for more.
