Synopsis: A little mothering gets way out of hand.
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Before his discomfort boils over and transforms into anger, so he is able to overcome his lack of confidence, and summons enough courage to tell her to back off, Cloe's lips are on him. They're soft and puffy, slightly wet and hungry. Her hands grab his head, and she begins showering him with kisses. She licks off remnants of jam smeared on his lips. Cloe has made a mess of his face, while she has fed him breakfast. His helplessness has revived her fascination with control, a penchant of hers. And as a consequence, repeatedly overstepping his boundaries has roused her appetite for more.
Though perplexed by her sudden wanton cuddling, his bottled-up character lets it happen. He observes her fair complexion. Her beautiful face is radiant. When she interrupts her frenzied smooching to check up on his reaction, he spots a couple of tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks. But there is something else, her cheery facial play seems to be enriched with arousal. The pale skin on her high cheekbones has taken color. Their eyes lock for an instant, before she kisses him again. This time she keeps probing with her tongue until his lips yield, and he gives in to her lusty necking. On reflex he closes his eyes, and her tongue slides in and explores.
He tastes remnants of mint flavor, and likes it, despite the fact he is easily repulsed by all kinds of tastes, scents or smells. Quite a contradiction, considering the bum he is.
It's been a while since he has been kissed. In any case, he isn't much of a kisser. So, he is baffled by the provocative way she determinedly engages his tongue and at the same time dismayed by his body's eager response, when he senses a treacherous stirring in his loins. Alarmed, he tries to evade her passionate frenching to suppress his wakening arousal, before it steams beyond his self-control. She doesn't let him; her delicate hands prevent his head from slipping to the side. Her fervent smooching becomes even more dominant and controlling when she senses his coy resistance and futile attempt to break free. To make him feel his helplessness, she greedily licks his nose and cheeks, observes his confused reaction with a confrontational grin, and when he is about to complain, she confidently kisses him again.
The obvious arrogance in her face angers him. He is not her toy. Determined to fight her off this time, he worms his torso, although not for long. He freezes, when he notices inquisitive fingering on his baggy shorts. They wouldn't. But only an instant later the elastic waistband is pulled down, and his wakening tumescence is cruelly exposed. This is madness. He uses all his strength to buck, but to no avail. Meddling fingers flat-out grab his bared testicles, and squeeze them domineeringly, reinforcing the vast scope of his vulnerability.
He feels Jane's warm breath on his skin, before her husky voice whispers into his ear.
"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. Be a good sport. I want you to embrace Cloe's passion. She really digs you. Don't fight her. Make her feel welcome."
To emphasize her point, she continues to explore his heavy nuts, squeezing them from time to time.
Although outraged, how effortlessly those two pushy women force him into being intimate, his manhood has a will of its own. Freed of his confinement his member distances with ease. Mortified, heat quickly culminates in his face. While Jane keeps his balls enclosed with one hand, he senses her exploratory fingers on the inside of his thighs, insisting to expose himself even further. He resists. Not for long. A little pressure on his vulnerable testes persuades him to spread his legs. He moans his disapproval.
"Mmplss, dnn't"
He tries to squirm free. They don't let him.
Cloe's long tongue devotedly continues to explore the very depth of his cavity, while her busy fingers roam freely through his long hair. At times electrifyingly scratching his scalp with her nails, generating waves of prickling shivers all over his trapped body. To make it worse, each invasive touch, squeeze or tickle seems to stir his arousal even more, despite the non-consensual nature of their shameless groping.
Another painful squeeze and Jane has his attention. Once more he feels her warm breath on his ear before she whispers. This time the threatening timbre in her voice is obvious.
"I asked you nicely to behave. I'm not going to tell you again. Make her feel welcome and keep your legs apart. I like to observe the eagerness of your little pecker. And to let you in on a secret, and give you a fair warning, I enjoy making you do it. Now, show Cloe, you can be just as enthusiastic."
Because of her lewd comment on his wakening arousal, his already heated complexion - in a mixture of anger and embarrassment - blushes crimson. He is upset and confused. Despite their unexpected hostile behavior, why does he still experience that shameful tumescence?