My Wifes Compulsion Ch 09

No, we didn't turn into scat fetishists. But I DID piss in her mouth the next morning.

I mean, what the hell. What's good for the goose and all of that.

How it happened was this -

I woke to the wonderful sensation of a hard dick being played with. I had that sort of, well, "woozy" feeling you get after a night on the town. It wasn't quite a hangover, and I wasn't quite fully sober yet.

She knows my tells, of course, and I felt her tongue, warm a moist probe my ear before she breathed softly, "Good morning, pervert."

I chuckled, stretched, and said softly, "Good morning, cocksucker."

Still flexible and agile, moving like the champion gymnast she had been as a teenager, she swung her leg over me and took me into her body, riding me cowgirl fashion, her smile the pure happiness that I loved seeing.

"This is yours, David," she said, very serious, moving her hips in that way she knew I loved. She moved with the perfect body control that made her laugh and explain, as we watched gymnastics on television from time to time, that the truly dedicated gymnasts had their spines removed. Sinuous is the word for the way she moved.

She brought me close, and then shifted her movement to a slower rhythm and slightly different angles that would keep me going. Oh, my Millie knows me SO well.

My breath caught as she leaned forward and the angles changed just a little, changing the sensation she was giving me.

Her breath was warm in my ear, her lips brushing the shell, as she started whispering, not urging me on but driving me a little crazy.

"You're going to love it, aren't you, Honey," she started, "seeing me on my knees before a man neither of us knows. Watching as I undo his belt and unzip his pants and then take out his beautiful cock. Kissing and licking it, not knowing where it has been, what diseases it might carry."

"Millie," I managed but she shushed with a kiss from her semen-crusted lips.

"You'll know I love it and hate it at the same time, that I feel degraded and fulfilled, that I hate myself afterward," she said, her voice warm, her words cutting, "and you'll be hard, watching my degradation and humiliation."

"Millie," I started again and this time she bit down on my earlobe hard enough to make me yell.

"And I'll suck that beautiful cock, David," she went on, her voice hypnotic, holding me, "and in that instant, David, I will know my true place. I'm a cumdump, David. I'm a cocksucker." I realized I was crying, not sobbing or bawling but crying, hurting for her, with her.

"Oh, don't cry, Baby," she said, nuzzling my neck, "I'm okay with it. It's just just what I do, David, it's, as they say, who I am."

"I love you," I said, sniffling a little.

"And I love you, Honey," she said, kissing me and holding the kiss as she sped her rhythm a little and started working her educated vaginal muscles.

"Now fill me up, Baby," she whispered, and then a soft, "Yessssss," as I bucked under her, trying to do as she asked.

"That's right, Honey," she said as my body bucked and I struggled, "Fill me up. Tell me you love me. Tell me I'm beautiful."

"I love you," I said, watching her eyes.

I felt her body clenching in the first stages of her orgasm.

"You're beautiful," I said, and I meant it.

"You're a cocksucker and a cumdump and my beautiful wife and I love you," I said.

She was straining now, seeking her release.

"Tell me I'm worthless," she said.

"NO!" I said.

"SAY IT, DAVID!" she said.

"No," I said, but I felt myself weakening.

Her mouth was at my ear, her breath warm and moist, her breathing labored.

"Say it, David, please baby, say it, say it, say it," she was whispering and between each word her tongue would flick out, teasing me in that way she knew got to me.

"Millie," I said, and just saying her name seemed to open a dam deep in her psyche.

"GODDAM IT DAVID," she yelled, bouncing on my cock with every syllable, "I KNOW WHAT I AM. YOU NEED TO ACCEPT IT TOO!"

And something broke in my psyche too.

I grabbed her by the hair, both of my hands entwined in it, twisting, drawing a little mewing cry from her, and pulled her down until our noses were almost touching.

"Your mouth is a FUCKING TOILET," I was yelling by the time I finished, "and I'm going to LOVE watching it be FUCKED."

And she came. It was explosive. I thought she had lost bladder control the way her release soaked us both, spattering up my belly.

I was pretty much over the top by then, though.

"That's right, cumdump, use what is mine for our pleasure, but your mouth is for everyone," I said and she came again.

Okay, if someone had administered some kind of psychological test to me right then I'm pretty sure the evaluation would have flashed red and come up BATSHIT CRAZY.

"Keep going, whore," I said, "get my nut before I use that pretty mouth for what it's meant to be."

"YESSSSSSSSSSSS," she yelled, sweating now, her hips working frantically, her pussy cumming in waves.

I grabbed both of her nipples with my thumb and forefingers and twisted, deliberately hurting her, drawing a cry but also another "YESSSSSSS," from her.

And the funny thing was, if there was anything funny in all of this, I couldn't cum. She was working hard and God knows I wanted to. I was RIGHT THERE. But I couldn't quite finish.

She was crying now, and almost begging for my finish.

"Please, David, please," she was repeating, over and over, gasping for breath, exhausted now.

"Get up," I said, pushing her off of me, feeling a little twinge as she rolled off of my VERY hard cock.

I rolled out of bed and looked at her, laying there, crying, rolled into the fetal position, hugging herself where she ached.

"GET UP," I said again, grabbing her by the hair and pulling.

"DAVID," she cried out, reaching up to grab my wrist and ease the pressure on her hair.

I drug her off of the bed, giving her a second to get her feet under her before dragging her into the bathroom and shoving her into the shower.

I jacked off, quickly, adding my watery semen to the mess on her face.

As I softened, I twisted my fingers, still in her hair, making her cry out.

"Open my fucking toilet," I said.

"DAVID!" she said, eyes bright looking up at me through tears.

I did something I never thought I would, and slapped her across the face. Not hard enough to snap her head around or leave a swollen, bruised cheek, but hard enough to let her know I wasn't fucking around.

"OPEN YOUR GODDAM MOUTH!" I said again.

Her eyes were big as she did as I demanded.

I took myself in my hand, soft now, and aimed. My stream started low, spattering on the floor, and then working up her belly, between her small breasts, and spattering on her face, forcing her to close her eyes, before I got aimed properly into her mouth.

She coughed, and I slapped her again, still in full batshit crazy mode.

Her eyes were very red as she looked at me and opened her mouth again.

And I pissed into my beautiful wife's mouth. When it overflowed and piss rand down her tits and belly I yelled, "SWALLOW, GODDAM IT."

She swallowed, coughed, and threw up on my feet.

And that seemed to break my craziness, or maybe let me return to sanity, if that's not a distinction without a difference.

I still had her hair in my hands and she was throwing up, and the thought,

"Oh Jesus, what have you DONE?!"

sprung full-blown into my mind.

She was still retching, thick mucus and bile all that was coming up now, hanging in a thick rope from her chin, as I sank to my knees and wrapped her in my arms.

"Millie," I said, my voice low, "I'm sorry."

"NO!" she yelled, "NO," she screamed, "Don't you DARE be sorry. You are right, David, you're just finally accepting the reality of what you married."

"I love you," I said.

And she leaned back to meet my eyes and said, "I love you too, baby."

I held her then, on our knees, my piss wetting them, while she slowly brought herself under control.

"The next time the URGE is on me," and the way she said it made that capitalization obvious, "You're going to be with me David. You're going to pick the man. And you're going to be right there, WHISPERING IN MY EAR WHAT A WORTHLESS CUMDUMP I AM," by the time she finished that little speech she was screaming at me.

"Yes," I said.

She threw up again and when she was finally done I kissed her, tasting tears and snot and bile and puke, before I stood, offering my hand to help her stand, and then turned on the shower, cold at first, making us both yelp and shiver and then have a fit of the giggles as the water slowly warmed.

We cleaned each other up, carefully. I enjoyed doing her face, using the washcloth to gently soften the crust and then wash it clean. I did the same with her hair, working her expensive conditioner into it, and then her body.

After she did me the same way, we dried each other, vigorously.

I brushed my fingertips across her lips.

"God, you have a beautiful mouth," I said.

"For a cocksucker?" she asked, but she was smiling.

"Yes," I said, kissing her, "for a cocksucker that I love."

"David," she said, and I knew something had changed between us, "I am frightened."

"I love you," I said, "and I'll be there doing as you wish, and I promise, you will never be hurt again."

"I'm still frightened," she said.

"I know, Baby," I said, "but we're going to get through this. I love you."

That day we just took care of each other. I fed her

Moosetracks

ice cream, her favorite, and she fed me grapes. We didn't get dressed all day.