Blackmailed and Controlled, Pt 2
Author's Note:
While this storyline focuses on a woman's desire for young men and being forced into performing sexual acts, every character is of legal age, 20+years of age, and the primary female character ultimately enjoys every sexual act she performs.
Many thanks to HeyAll for the editorial inputs and corrections
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Later than evening I laid naked in my bed, my fingers casually toying in and on my still swollen pussy. In my mind there was an argument: part of me was near crying with shame. I had cheated on my husband, Scott. Not only that, but I had done things with Frank that I'd never dream of doing with Scott. I debated with myself about telling him; confessing my infidelity; crying out tears of apology and pleading with him not to leave or divorce me. That voice argued with that other woman I had inside my head; the one I had confessed to Frank, and he'd enjoyed bringing out of its cage. That animalistic and kinky side had enjoyed every moment of the experience and was looking forward to more: more, dirtier, kinkier, more debasing, riskier... That side of me didn't want to confess to Scott but was secretly hoping he'd somehow find out and, instead of reacting with anger, react with... humility? Shame? That side of me wanted Scott to surrender himself, willingly, to cuckoldry; to accept that his wife was a wanton, cock hungry and cum hungry slut, and that he not only could do nothing about it but got turned on by it. That voice told me I could and should do this and soon I'd be making Scott serve my needs as well as the men who used me.
In my mind's eye I replayed the events of the afternoon, always ending up focused on that moment when Frank's cock reached deeper into me than any had before and released his seed. Was I pregnant? Maybe. Probably not. It had taken Scott and I many tries before I got pregnant with our first son, Todd. On the other hand, Frank's cock had jetted his thick sperm-laden cum directly against and into my cervix; of that I was certain. His baby-making swimmers had entered my uterus even as I had orgasmed, the combined muscle spasms only helping to inject his richly fertilizing sperm farther into me. The idea of being pregnant as the result of such an illicit experience only excited me further. My pussy flowed... my fingers found my center... I brought myself to orgasm again... and again... hoping Frank would push my even farther the next day. I needed it.
When Scott called to say goodnight, I kept my voice calm and dismissed the idea of confession. As we engaged in meaningless conversation about his day, my fingers continued to work my pussy... my married cheating cunt as Frank called it... wondering if there was any of his essence still in me? When Scott said he loved me and missed me, I mouthed the words back to him even as I delved my fingers into my still slick sex, closing my eyes and remembering the feeling as Frank's cock first split me open, stretched me wider and deeper than Scott ever had or could. I did love my husband... but I craved and was now addicted to being a cuckolding slut. What remained was to expand my experiences and find a way to convince Scott that he was, and would enjoy being, my cuckold.
The next morning, I woke slowly and stretched and felt a warm throb in my groin that I wasn't used to. I thought for a moment as my sleep-fogged brain cleared and smiled when I realized that the throb was a leftover feeling from the sex I'd enjoyed the previous day. I reached between my thighs, touching myself and realizing that my pussy was sensitive; more than normal. I was still feeling the use from Frank's cock ... and he was going to use me some more this afternoon. I was sure of that. I idly wondered what knew experience he would provide or force onto me. I didn't think the afternoon would be a repeat of the day before; at least I hoped not. That female animal inside of me had only been partially uncaged. I wanted Frank to open the cage door wide and let that animal fully free.
In the shower I luxuriated. I ran the water hot, stretched and pampered myself. As I cleansed my body, I had a naughty thought and embraced it. I had never shaved my pussy before but had trimmed yesterday at Frank's order. Reaching for Scott's shaving cream I lathered my nether lips and very carefully, for the first time in my life, shaved my pussy smooth. After doing a thorough job I rinsed just as thoroughly, soaped and rinsed again. My pussy lips were still just ever so slightly swollen but felt amazing. I wondered if it would make any difference in how it felt to have a cock in it. Drying myself off I smiled at the realization that I'd find out soon enough.
I put on what looked like a reasonably conservative dress for the day. It had built in support for my chest, so no bra was needed, and it came down to just above my knees. The waist fit me well and showed off how fit I was. Reaching into my underwear drawer I pulled out another thong. I loved that Frank had kept the pair I'd worn yesterday, saturated in my juices as they were. Maybe he'd keep today's too, but I hoped not. I hoped I'd bring them home, wearing them, catching any cum of his that leaked out after he'd fed me what freely flowed out.
My work morning was dull beyond words. In my profession I regularly served and helped people and while I enjoyed doing so, it was a distraction from where I wanted to focus: on my blossoming sexuality. Even as I performed my duties, I thought about being naked again, on that hotel bed, spread, wet, taken, used, filled. I thought about the feeling and taste of his swollen cockhead on my tongue and how delicious his precum was. I thought about his cock spitting cum all over my face... where had THAT come from? But I loved the thought. By 12:00 when I was leaving work for the day, to meet Frank for lunch and enjoy him all afternoon, my thong was saturated again.
When I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, I saw him waiting for me. I had thought he'd be waiting inside like he had the day before, but I certainly wasn't disappointed. I took it as a sign that he was as eager to see me and be with me as I was with him. I locked my car as I got out knowing I wouldn't be back to it for several hours and walked over to him with a big smile on my face. His smile was just as big. He smelled just as good. We came together in an embrace and our mouths met in a crushing, passion filled kiss. It lasted for a minute... and then two. I felt his hands on my back and ass, caressing, squeezing. I felt the breeze from the wind as he pulled the back of my dress up, grabbing my naked butt cheeks with both hands. I puIled away from him in protest when I realized that ANYONE walking by could see my exposed ass, but he held me tight, crushed the kiss harder onto my mouth and kept my ass available for the world to see.
He broke the kiss and released my dress and his grip on my butt all at the same time, but he didn't back away very far. With his face only an inch or so from mine he smiled and said, "You really need to stop pretending that you don't want me to do anything I want to do and that you don't love everything I make you do."
"Arrogant much?" I asked him with a mischievous grin.
"Honest much?" he shot back. Neither of us said anything for a moment and then he chuckled, smacked me on my ass - not hard, but enough for me to feel that slight sting - and then he took my hand and led me into the restaurant. We sat in the same booth that we had the day before and he sat beside me just as he had. I wondered if he'd have his hand in my pussy before lunch was over again today and silently hoped that he would. I wondered what his reaction would be when he felt my smooth-shaven lips.
We had the same server too; the one who had seen Frank finger me to orgasm. He took our drink and food order and disappeared. Frank turned to me while we waited for our drinks. "So, how was your evening? Did you talk to Scott?"
"Yes," I answered. "We talk every evening while he's on travel."
"Any issues talking to him after the afternoon we enjoyed?"
I thought about that for a moment before answering honestly. "Not so much. I had, and have, moments of feeling guilty for cheating but they are way more than offset by the needs and desires I have and the fact that I no longer am willing to ignore them."
"Were you touching yourself while you talked to him?" he asked.
Almost ashamed of myself but glossed with a feeling of pride, I answered, "Yes."
"Was there anything at all even remotely sexual in your conversation with him?"
"In the conversation, no," I answered. "But in what I was doing while I talked to him, yes. I think I masturbated most of the evening... but not to orgasm. Just touching myself; feeling different; thinking about what we did; what you did to me; what you made me do..." My voice trailed away.
"Let's get something in the open," he said very seriously. "When you say, 'what I made you do,' you need to understand that I'm not forcing you in any way you can't resist. I make it easy for you to pretend you have no responsibility and I certainly push you to do everything I know I'll enjoy and I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy, but you have the power to say 'no' anytime you want, and I'll respect that."
I didn't like thinking about that. I didn't want any of the responsibility for what I'd done the day before. I enjoyed the mental excuse that he MADE my do those things. I quickly decided it was a matter of semantics and I didn't want to argue it, so I simply replied, "I understand." I had no intention of ever telling him 'no' and I fervently hoped that even if I did, he'd ignore me and push me to do... whatever. I got off on being used like a fuck toy and fuck toys can't say no.
Frank interrupted my thoughts. "I think you have an admirer," he said, looking across the room at another table. I looked where he was looking, and my stomach dropped. Sitting by himself in a booth was a young handsome man about the same age as my youngest son, Erik. Actually, I knew the young man was exactly the same age. They'd been in the same grade. It was Sean, a schoolmate of Erik's. Now Sean was in college and had grown up quite well. At just over six feet tall and with a swimmer's lean muscular body, his boyish cuteness had turned into a man's good looks. He was staring at me.
From the look on my face, Frank guessed I knew the young fellow, but he still asked. "Someone you know?"
I looked down at the table. "His name is Sean. He's a friend of my son, Erik's."
"You look like that's a problem?" Frank asked.
"Maybe," I said. "What if he tells someone, like my son or Scott, that he saw me having lunch with some man? I could have big problems."
The server brought our drinks just then, interrupting our conversation and reassuring us that our food would be out shortly.
"I thought you wanted Scott to know?" Frank said. "I thought you wanted him to know and accept you living this lifestyle? The lifestyle of a hotwife who enjoys all the other men she wants? I thought you wanted to be a fuck toy for other men and have Scott not only accept it but become a sub cuckold to you."
