Serving Fran and Stacy

I shot off a text to Frank at about ten-thirty in the morning, hoping he was up. My cock annoyingly and stubbornly hard as I did it. My wife lay next to me, a teasing smile on her face as she read her book. Fuck, I hope he responded soon.

He didn't. It took another forty minutes before I heard the ding chime from my phone. By that time, I'd already made coffee and straightened up the house a bit, my cock having subsided and my desire's flames having cooled. That *ding* pulled all of that to the surface again.

Hopeful anticipation filled my chest as I hurriedly I made my way back to my phone, flipping it around and unlocking it. Yep, it was him.

"Of course I'm around, little one. Is everything alright?" I blushed at his pet name for me and my cock pulsed. Fuck, I still wasn't used to another man having a pet name for me. It was both heartwarming and embarrassing.

"Yes, sir, everything's fine. I just really - " I stopped typing for a few seconds, working my jaw, unable to get my fingers to type the words. I poured myself another cup of coffee before continuing.

"I just really need to serve you this morning. Arya's already given me the go-ahead. Could I come over?"

His reply took a maddeningly long five minutes. As I leaned against the kitchen counter, I kept my phone up to respond to him immediately, glancing at it every few seconds as I drank my coffee. Was he delaying on purpose? Did he want to tease me, or was he just going about his morning?

*Ding*

My head snapped down like an obedient puppy, my thumb already swiping through my password to see the message.

"Be here within the hour. Stacy and I have plans this afternoon."

My heart pounded in my ears as I read and re-read the text. Fuck. I was doing this again. I'd just texted our bull if I was allowed to come over and suck his cock. I was both excited and terrified. I'd done this before, sure, but it felt so embarrassing to text your bull, practically begging to serve him. I took a deep breath, centering myself.

"Yes, sir. I will be there shortly."

I walked back into my bedroom, my wife still lazily reading. She eyed me as I came in hurriedly and started dressing into something presentable for Frank and Stacy. Looking back at her book, she teased me.

"So Frank gave you permission then, boo?"

I gulped and a wave of sensation washed over me at her words.

"Yeah." My voice sounded breathy. I thought that only happened in porn. "He said be there within the hour, so I have to get going."

She looked up at me, putting her book down. "Well come over here first and kiss me."

I smiled lovingly at her and jumped onto the bed, squishing her and cuddling into her for a few moments before popping my head up and kissing her deeply. "I love you" I said as I pushed my forehead to hers, trying to force all of my emotions into her head. To make her understand, even if she already did. We'd talked about it often enough.

She pushed back with the same force. "I love you too. Make sure he doesn't tire your jaw out too much. I'll want to put it to use while you tell me how it went." She kissed me again and slapped my ass. "Now get going, he won't wait for you if you're late."

I rolled off the bed and put on my best clothes for Frank and Stacy. I was about to deliver myself to our bull to suck his cock. At my own request. Oh my god.

--

I pulled up to the Pattersons' house and parked on the road, my head swiveling around to see if any of their neighbors were outside. Depending on the neighbor, my outfit could be a bit embarrassing to be seen in. I wanted to make sure I didn't start rumors, even though the Pattersons had stressed multiple times that it wasn't my responsibility to worry about that.

Neither Frank nor Stacy liked me in full feminine get up, but they did enjoy a healthy mix of masculine and feminine as they called it. I wore a button-up with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into my jeans. My corset hugged my stomach and rib cage as I looked around, its outline faintly visible through the fabric of my shirt. My jeans were form-fitting, skinny jeans, and they showed off my legs very well. Frank ensured I always showed off my legs when I met up with them. They were his favorite part of me, stealing Arya's phrase for them. 'Sexy little chicken legs'.

I took a deep breath after pulling the key and stepped from my car, my outfit hugging me. I'd just driven twenty minutes and left my wife in bed to suck our bull's cock. God it was crazy and so fucking exciting at the same time. My heart couldn't decide if it wanted to stop or beat out of my chest, and I had to fight hard to keep my cock from straining uncomfortably in my skinny jeans.

I made my way quickly but primly up the stairs to the Patterson household, making sure I held myself properly. Both Stacy and Frank demanded proper posture from me, having pointed out how much I'd slouched during our first meeting with them. There was a decent chance they were watching me approach now, and I did not want to be punished for something so simple when they were indulging me by letting me visit them this early on a whim.

I rang the doorbell and waited, aware of how odd it looked for a young man to show up at their house at eleven in the morning. And they did make me wait. Maybe they were busy, and I know it couldn't have been more than a minute, but it felt like an hour. They were reminding me that I had asked them for a favor, and they were going to get to me as their time demanded.

Finally, Stacy opened the door with a beaming smile, her sundress matching her grin. She grabbed my hand and gently but firmly pulled me through the doorway.

"Such good timing, Jules. You can help me change Jenna's diaper." She said, wrapping me in a hug. As tall as me, which was uncommon for women, she made me feel small. I loved that about her.

"Thank you, Miss Stacy. I'd be glad to help you however you need." I bowed my head slightly to her and she graciously patted my cheek before turning away and walking back through the house.

The living room and dining room were fairly normal affairs. The Patterson household wasn't gaudy nor was it unimpressive. They prided themselves on being simple folks in their presentation, but I knew from our talks with them that they saved a significant portion of their income. It had been one of the first things Arya and I had bonded with them about. Both of us shared a philosophy of saving overspending, so we could spend on the things we actually valued.

It showed in their home. Each piece of furniture looked intentional and fitted without looking forced. Stacy was an interior designer at heart, and I know she designed each room personally. I'd been meaning to ask her for recommendations for our living room. Not today, though, I'd already inconvenienced her enough.

Following her into the baby's room, I couldn't help but watch her hips sway as she walked. Her gait was intentional, done to draw my eye and keep me engaged. Although she would give me chores for a little while to make me useful, she knew why I was here. She understood the game and she delighted in playing it. She needed to keep me turned on just enough that my mind was cloudy without making me want to beg for it. And she was damn good at it. I'd picked up quite a few techniques from her throughout the past couple of years to Arya's delight.

"Grab the diaper bag, dear." She commanded without turning.

I crouched down and lifted the diaper bag, finding my place to the side of the changing table. Not speaking, I opened it so she could turn and grab what she needed. Lifting her infant daughter from the crib, she blew kisses in a devastatingly adorable, motherly way before walking her over.

"God, she was up all night. Tummy issues, I think, so she's cranky."

"Poor girl." I empathized with her, offering a finger that she gripped lightly. "Is it the same bug as last week, do you think?"

She shook her head, setting Jenna down on the changing table. "No, that passed and her fever came down. Babies just get upset tummies sometimes." She took on a teaching tone with me as she said it before tickling the baby's leg and cooing at her. "Isn't that right? Just an upset tummy."

Seeing her play with her daughter brought a smile to my face and took me out of my arousal for a while. She was a great mother, and I looked forward to her being an aunt for my children once Arya and I really started trying. We'd definitely need her support. Babies are fucking exhausting.

I dutifully helped her get Jenna ready, thanking her politely for letting me serve. She smiled and planted a kiss on my cheek before moving forward and whispering in my ear. "He's in bed, and I've been teasing him all morning for you. I know how much you like when he makes you his bitch."

She stressed bitch in a way that made me shudder and my cock tighten immediately.

"Thank you, miss. You're too good to me."

She bit my earlobe before pulling back and kissing me hard. I melted into the kiss, feeling small and weak in her grip. I groaned through it, consciously making sure my hands did not wander. She wasn't my wife. She decided when she was touched.

Pulling back from my ear, she kissed my forehead. "You're dismissed. Enjoy. Come back to me when you're done."

I blushed at the dismissal to go suck her husband's cock. My marriage's bull. "Yes, miss. Thank you." I breathed, turning to walk to their bedroom. *To my master*, I thought quietly, a mix of intensity, excitement, and embarrassment swirling and mixing inside me. I licked my lips as I hurried to their bedroom.

--

Frank was seemingly asleep as I stood on the side of his marital bed, only my corset and panties hugging me. It was cold in the bedroom, the A/C still blowing harshly, and my skin prickled as I shivered slightly. Most of that shiver was from anticipation, though, although I couldn't form that thought coherently.

He looked so god damned *good*. A barrel-chested, mountain of a man. His arms bigger than my thighs, I loved running letting my eyes drive across his form. He ran hot at night, so even though it was in the 60s in here, one naked leg stuck out from under the covers and the top of the comforter only reached his rib cage.

I kneeled, waiting. There were times where Frank gave me permission to wake him, but he hadn't in his texts. Neither had Miss Stacy. I knew my place, and I waited, my knees pushed into the carpet of the bedroom. My body shivered in anticipation and chill equally, and my cock strained against the fabric of my panties. I breathed hard, relishing my situation.

Here I knelt, having left my loving wife in our marital bed, drove twenty minutes to our bull's house, and waited patiently to suck another man's cock. Lovingly. Desperately. Hungrily. Both Miss Stacey and Sir Frank knew how much I loved this mental game. This waiting game. They knew my mind, how active it was, how I could work myself up without any effort from them.

I stared at Frank, watching his chest rise and fall, his thick, strong body relaxed. I so badly wanted to kiss across him, drag my tongue across his skin, bite his nipples, force his strong hands to grab my hair and growl at me when I bit too hard. Force him to grab my head and position me where I belonged, between his legs, serving him.

My cock twitched and grew even harder as I played the scene through my mind. I wasn't allowed to touch him but he was *right there*. Miss Stacey had sent me in here. She must have known I'd have to wait. God, if I went outside, would she let me eat her out while I waited? She tasted so good, and I enjoyed being on my knees for her as much as I did Frank.

I watched the door for a few moments, my breathing strong and deep as my mind raced, weighing my options. I knew she'd punish me. But sometimes those punishments were just as good as the reward. She took such pleasure in marking my skin, toying with my mind. She molded me like putty when I was like this.

It must have been five minutes I stared at the door, imagining all the ways MIss Stacy might punish or reward me if I walked out. Frank might never know. I might get back in time before he woke, his breathing was so deep and even it hypnotized me, and I instinctively matched my own breath to his. I could hear Miss Stacy walking around out there. Just maybe...

I turned my head to look at Frank and found him studying me. My breath caught in my throat as his gaze pierced through me, fixing me to the floor. It quickened a second later as my cock ached and stretched into my panties, and I said nothing, simply breathing, waiting for him to speak. His will pinned me to the ground already, his muscles relaxed and comfortable. I couldn't wait for them to flex and force me into my rightful positions.

I kept eye contact with him, blinking seldomly, eyes wide. He broke eye contact first as he guided them across my form, and I could feel heat build and muscles tense as his gaze swept over me. I could feel the wet spot in my panties and I groaned slightly as he stared at it for a few seconds, expression unreadable. Was he upset? He seemed so serious. So in charge. Considering me. His mind working out the best way to use me. Oh god, I moaned internally, the breath escaping my throat without the words having formed.

That slight groan decided it for him, and he lifted the covers slightly to let me crawl in. No more intimacy. No more eye contact. No more minds meeting and struggling for dominance. Simply a pet, serving its master, lovingly and devotedly.

I crawled underneath the covers, feeling his warmth wash over me. He ran so hot, and immediately pinpricks of sweat beaded on my chill skin. I shivered and breathed in strongly through my nose, smelling him. My master. It was so heavy and earthy, so manly and *him*. I loved it.

With only faint light making it through the fabric, I found my way to his thighs, kissing lightly and deeply in turn. I worshipped his skin, thanking him for letting me come to his home, thanking him for letting me kneel at his bed, for talking to his wife and helping with his daughter. Thanking him for all the times he fucked my wife, fucked me, and took over our house for hours or days at a time.

His skin was salty, sweaty, and unwashed. He hadn't showered yet today, and it carried his scent with every kiss. It filled my world as my face remained between his thighs, my lips lightly grazing his skin. I ignored his cock, ignored his balls, and simply thanked him for the opportunity to serve. I could see his cock, only half-hard, and I groaned at that. I loved working him to hardness in my mouth, the feel of his heavy and soft cock's weight on my tongue as a wonderful appetizer.

Eventually, he groaned lightly and his cock jumped, and I took it for the command it was. He'd started a scene in his mind that hit *just* right, and I would not ignore his needs. I moved quickly to his cock, lightly lifting it with my tongue and taking the head into my mouth. The weight, heat, and taste felt wonderful on my tongue, causing me to groan softly and my own cock strained against the fabric again.

My hips begin to circle and grind into the air, begging for release, begging for sensation on my cock head. I was never allowed to touch myself. Master and mistress had learned early on how undisciplined I was with my own cock. I would never be allowed a cage. It was too easy, they said, and they expected more from their pets. My mind would be my cage.

He grew as I worked, as my tongue slowly tasted and felt along the ridge of his head. His precum dribbled out into my mouth, and his taste flooded my senses. I felt heady. The heat, smell, anticipation, and pure desire coming together to cause this to feel like a dream. I breathed deeply, taking in more of him. Sucking down hard, I could feel the entirety of his shaft touch me.

His growing hardness forced him deeper into my mouth, and I matched his growth with a push forward of my head. It tickled the back of my throat, and I grabbed onto my discipline to suppress my gag reflex. Master Frank hated when his bitches distracted him by gagging. I would not disappoint him.

My hands explored his thighs, feeling them twitch and shift as he found better positions to relax into. My mouth sucked and pulled on him, feeling his skin shift underneath me, the paradox of soft foreskin with hard cock causing my head to spin. I loved serving him.

Sooner than I thought, I felt his hand grip my skull. Oh god. It was so big, even though the blankets, wrapping around the majority of my head as he gently but firmly pushed me down. I remembered how similar his wife's touch had been when she pulled me into their home.

I swallowed over and over, opening my throat to my master's cock. It filled me and I groaned as I fought to suppress my gag reflex. He pushed further and my nose reached his short pubic hair, his smell becoming my only sense other than the touch of his cock inside of me. He groaned loudly as he bottomed out inside of me.

My hand snuck up his thigh to grip his balls, tight and pulled up towards his body. They were so large and full, virility radiating from them. He'd told me he'd knock up Arya with these one day. I believed him. I would guide him into her and thank him just like this the day that he did. My little wife would be his little toy when he did so. I groaned loudly as images flickered across my mind of his cock inside of her. Of the next months as his seed changed her body. I had to fight hard not to rub my cock up against the bedspread below me. I kept my ass up and away from everything, my legs spread so that I could not use my cock without permission.

He started to thrust up into my mouth, increasingly needy. I knew what was coming. He set his own pace with his hand firmly holding my head. My left hand tracing tickles up and down his left thigh, as my right hand cradled and gently massaged his balls, my mind focused on not gagging and ruining whatever scene he had conjured in his mind to jerk off to.

His pace increased steadily, his hips sharply thrusting upwards, more earnestly, more lustfully. He was using my face as another one of his favorite fuck holes, and my cock almost exploded at that thought. I'd prided myself on my mind so often, and here master was, using my head as his sex toy. And I dutifully served.

I could feel his cock head drag against the back of my throat, could feel the ache in my jaw as his cock spread me, and his taste defined me. His smell supported me. I was his. My only purpose in this moment to be present for the cock that filled my every sense.

Without warning, his hand grabbed hard and pushed me down fully as his hips thrust up. I gagged as he forced himself deep into my throat. He bypassed my mouth entirely as he came, feeding my belly directly with his seed. My gags milked his cock harder and he groaned at the sensation. I knew his wife would hear and know that he'd filled their bitch with his cum.

His muscles relaxed and his hand came away, giving me the freedom to pull my head up with a gasp. I could hear his breathing, deep and hard, and he let out a contented groan as I sucked my way up the cock that had just sat prettily in my throat. I cleaned him dutifully, tasting myself and him as I dragged my tongue up his hard but shrinking shaft. I loved clean up, although I enjoyed it more when it had been in his or my wife's pussy. My cock strained against fabric, and I desperately wanted to touch myself. Desperately. I considered it for so long. Maybe he'd be nice. Maybe my punishment wouldn't be so bad.

No. He'd made the punishment for that very clear. I whimpered at the admission.

His hand snuck beneath the covers and lightly ran through my hair, petting me. No exaggeration, he pet me like he would a favorite puppy and I groaned at the humiliation of it. I loved it so god damned much and I sucked hard before dropping my mouth to his balls to worship them. He was going to stop me soon, I knew, but I needed this so badly.