Cucquean

As I walked into the bedroom Lori was on her back, her chubby legs spread showing that the delta of pubic hair ran an inch or so down her thighs. His finger was probing under her very prominent clitoral hood and she was moaning, "yes, baby, right there."

I was surprised at how my body responded.

I felt myself instantly wet.

I couldn't look away. I didn't want to look away. God help me, I was enjoying watching.

Her hips were rocking slightly as his finger moved, slow movements that I recognized. I felt a sympathetic tingle between my own legs. I could almost feel the way his finger would be making circles, making the hard button of her clitoris roll around. Staying off of the too-sensitive tip, he would be manipulating the tiny shaft of her love button and I heard her voice, soft and low, not a whisper but a low request. "Please," she moaned.

As I watched, the first rush of an approaching orgasm hit her. A thick white cream, I thought of the conditioner I use on my hair, started flowing from her pussy, running down the crack of her big ass.

I had heard and read the phrase "knees went weak" of course. I mean, who hasn't? But now I understand it. I felt a rush, almost like a numbness at first, and then a sudden tingling ran down my legs and my knees actually bent a little before I stopped the motion.

I drew in a sharp breath. I hadn't realized I wasn't breathing.

I guess I made a noise when I did. Lori's eyes opened and she grinned when she saw me.

She patted David's shoulder. He hadn't seen me yet, being busy nibbling on her tiny titty.

"Easy baby," she said, "looks like dinner's here."

He looked up and smiled.

"Come over here," she said, "let's see what goodies you brought."

I moved to the bed, my steps short, my mind awash in conflicting thoughts and emotions.

When I was standing by the bed her grin spread wider, showing teeth but her eyes weren't smiling.

She slowly, deliberately, reached down between her legs and drug her finger through her thick love cream, and then smeared her lips and then David's lips with it.

"A kiss for the servant before she feeds us?" she asked David.

There was another of those sudden rushes of sensation. My knees went watery and my bowels ran hot.

(("Is this what I am now?" I asked myself, "A servant to my husband and his mistress?"))

"Come on, Martha," she said, some snap in her voice now, "get your tip before you feed us."

I bent, slowly, that odd combination of reluctance and desire governing my reactions now, to kiss her. As I got close, the womanscent of her lips, that pheromone-laden bouquet that has ensured procreation for millions of generations, filled my nose and I couldn't resist inhaling deeply. The taste, when I kissed her was slightly salty, slightly oily.

I liked it.

It was a good kiss too. She didn't hold back and, truth to tell, neither did I. Our lips met and our tongues touched and we held that position. For her, it was comfortable, laid back on her pillow. For me, it was awkward, bent over while making sure not to spill the contents of the tray all over the bed.

Finally, I had to straighten. My back was close to cramping.

"What about me?" David asked.

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to cramp, and kissed him too. That womanscent wasn't as strong on his lips but it was there, and it got to me.

But then I had to cry out as the cramp struck and I had to straighten to ease it.

While I was fighting the cramp Lori stretched. It was a long, luxurious stretch, almost feline the way her back seemed boneless as she arched. I was certain she knew the image she was presenting. With her arms straight over her head like that, I could see the patches of bright red hair in her armpits. It looked to be soft and silky, making me think she had never shaved.

I had an urge to lick them that was so powerful I started to bend over before I caught myself.

She smiled, a knowing smile, and I wondered if she had read my mind or if I was just that obvious.

She laid back, hands behind her head, fingers entwined, and said, "feed us."

She opened her mouth so I put a little cube of Muenster cheese in it.

David mirrored her position and I put one in his mouth too.

As I fed them, and I really have no idea how long that went on, it struck me what a beautiful, what a special intimacy this was.

I would give them a piece of cheese or sausage or bread or a drink from the wineskin and then carefully wipe their lips with the napkin.

It felt, well, natural I guess, to enjoy the way his cock and her nipples slowly softened as I tended to them. I felt a strange combination of emotions. On one level, that pressure in my belly was there, and whenever I moved my swollen clitoris gave me a burst of pleasure. On another level, though, I felt maternal. I wanted to take care of them. On yet another level I felt worthless, like an over-the-hill whore trying to turn a dozen tricks a night.

And I realized I was enjoying all of those emotions.

"Oh, my," Lori said, patting her ample belly, "that's enough for now."

"Me too," David said, smiling.

"You've been a good girl," she started and there was that rush deep in my belly again as I wondered when the last time was that anyone had called me "girl," "so you can have the rest."

I started to turn but she stopped me, that snap in her voice again.

"But FIRST," she said, "your husband seems to have gone soft on me. Take care of that please."

How quickly one adapts. I didn't hesitate. Hell, I had no thought of hesitation. I simply sat the tray on the floor so I would have two hands available, and started to bring him erect. I knew what he liked, of course. First I lightly dragged my fingernail along the line that separated his scrotum into two mirrored halves, the scrotal raphe if you're into nomenclature. As always I enjoyed the way his balls moved when I did that. Then I ran the same fingernail up the length of his penis, still soft but starting to fill. The word "turgid" from an episode of "Mike and Molly" flashed through my mind.

When I kissed the tip he twitched and when I took the glans, the head, into my mouth and sucked gently he came erect.

"Good girl," she said again and there was that rush in my belly.

"Now go ahead, stand in the corner, and eat your dinner," she said, "if we need you we'll call you."

No one had told me I couldn't watch, so I backed into the corner.

As I ate my dinner, slowly, savoring each bite, I watched as my husband's very demanding mistress took control.

"Give me your mouth, baby," she started and laid back on her doubled pillow. I watched as my husband buried his face in that bright red beaver and listened to the distinct slurping and swallowing sounds he made as he went down on her. I was pretty sure he was being deliberately noisy but I wasn't sure if it was for me or for her.

She suddenly cried out, her back arched, and her fingers dug into his hair.

As I watched he was noisily swallowing and then coughing and then swallowing some more as her body, very obviously, went through four distinct orgasms.

She released his hair and when he raised his head and looked at me her thick white natural lubricant, her "grool" was the word I had learned from pornographic sites as I was preparing for my new life, hung in a thick, wobbling rope from his chin.

She lifted her legs then, getting her fingers behind her knees and pulling until her knees touched her nipples.

"Now, baby," she said, her voice thick, "fuck me but don't you dare cum until I'm ready."

I watched him guide himself to that thick mat of hair and then disappear into her.

"That's right, baby," she said, "fuck me."

David has excellent control and tonight he needed all of it.

As I watched, his rhythm would change as his body's imperative to send his seed deep into a willing vessel took over.

"Wait for me," she would snap.

Time lost meaning for me. As I watched him perform I could see him tiring. Soon he was panting and sweating. I could see the sheen of sweat on his body.

"STOP," she snapped, and he stopped moving, his head hanging, gasping for breath.

"Get out," she said, softer this time but still very much in charge.

He pulled out.

She rolled over, her knees under her hips now, her ass up in the air while her titties were still flat on the mattress.

"Now, baby," she said, and as I watched she reached back and used her hands to pull those big ass cheeks apart, "give me that deliciously full feeling."

I watch him reach down and drag his fingers through her grool, touching her asshole. He did that several times, his finger penetrating a little more each time, and I realized he was carefully lubricating her with her natural lubricant.

I watched him guide himself to where she obviously wanted him and then push inside.

I could see her moving her hips, changing the arch of her back slightly, and then she said, "all the way, baby."

With another push, he was balls deep inside of her asshole.

"Oh, Jesus, God, yes," she said in a very hoarse voice, "fill me up."

I watched as he fucked her in the ass. There was no lovemaking here. This was raw fucking. He would pull out and then slam into her, his belly meeting that big ass with an audible smacking sound. That lasted for some measurable fraction of eternity.

She was almost chanting now, "Oh, Jesus, God, yes, fill me up, Oh, Jesus, God, yes, fill me up," over and over.

Finally with a thrust, a grunt, and a grip on her hips that made her cry out his back arched and he finished.

She responded with a long, hissed, "YESSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssssss."

They both collapsed then, him on top, her flat on the mattress.

As will happen, he softened and slipped out.

She stretched again, still underneath him, and crooked her finger, beckoning me.

"We'll need to be cleaned up after that," she said, a satisfied smile on her face.

I took a step toward the bathroom and she snapped, "where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"To get a washcloth," I said.

She rolled her eyes like I was the stupidest person in the world.

"No," she said, enunciating each word carefully, as if it was its own individual sentence, "you. will. use. your. mouth. and. tongue."

"Oh, God," I hear myself moan.

But when she reached back and spread her cheeks I didn't hesitate.

The smell was earthy but not awful and there was no taste at all as I began licking her clean. I started at the streaks along the inside of her gluteal cleft, the crack of her ass, and soon discovered there was something, well, exciting about what she was making me do.

That's not quite true, is it?

She had told me to, but she was hardly "making" me do anything. That part was being done of my own free will.

I worked my way down to that smooth circle of skin surrounding the tiny orifice of her anus and then to her anus as well, licking her clean.

"Good girl," she said, and rolled free.

David was a mess as well. His shart was liberally smeared, and I had to work hard to get him clean. It was his pubic hair, though, that was the most difficult. He had her shit in it as well, and I had to do a lot of licking to get him clean.

I was surprised at the way the pressure in my belly was building as I did.

Finally satisfied that I had done as much as I could, I stood.

"Good girl," she said, "now back to your corner. We might want you later."

"But," I started but she cut me off.

"Did I not make myself clear?" she asked.

"Yes, Lori," I said, being careful to use her name.

"May I go to the bathroom?" I asked.

"You may," she said, flashing that grin, but no washing afterward.

That little exertion of control made the ache deep in my belly twinge.

So I went into the bathroom, carefully pulled the dress up and my panties down, sat, peed, pooped, wiped, and then stood, pulled up my panties, and went back to my corner.

David was already snoring and Lori wasn't far behind.

And that is how I spent my first night as a cuckquean, standing in the corner as my husband and lover slept in my bed.