Mistress Charlotte was entertaining a gentleman when the subject of cuckolding came up in conversation. As it does. The weather. Current affairs. Idle gossip. A massive throbbing cock and swinging balls thrusting into a glistening wet pussy 6 inches away from your face, just out of reach of your eager tongue. Your beloved Mistress, straddling your face, mounted by a magnificent bull of an Australian.
He asked if I could be there in 5 minutes.
I was at the gym 100m away when I got the call. I returned my dumbbells to the rack and wiped them with an antibac wetwipe then legged it to her place. Just barely managed to restrain myself from sprinting there with a full erection. I wouldn’t want to seem over-eager. So I restricted myself to a brisk walk and a semi.
I folded my sweaty gym gear on top of my bag and jumped in Charlotte’s shower, dried off and entered her boudoir naked, still hot from my workout and half erect. Mr Cuckold made my acquaintance via Charlotte leading me by the cock to stand crotch to face and made a quick introduction. Mr Cuckold responded to his Mistress’s forceful command to say hello by opening his mouth to speak but the second his lips parted, Charlotte grabbed him by the back of his head and jammed my cock into the back of his throat.
He moaned with the unbridled ecstasy of a man with a giant clitoris transplanted onto his tonsils. My cock stretched his tight, virgin oesophagus to the limit. Tears of joy streamed down his face and torrents of his saliva lubricated my rock hard shaft.
Charlotte held us both in her embrace, her massive, beautiful tits compressed against my back, I could feel her breath on my neck and sensed that she was powerfully aroused. Some perfect storm of my own godlike physique and aura of sexual prowess, the foreplay of whatever delightful torment she’d been inflicting on her willing and delighted slave prior to my arrival, and London turned tropical with the electricity in the air from the dark clouds rolling overhead promising torrential rain after a week of thirty plus degree heat.
Charlotte released her vice like grip on Mr Cuckold but rather than disengage and suck in a lung-full of air his lust for cock fought against his own reflex to breathe and lust for cock won. The oxygen he was managing to suck in through his nose sufficed to keep him alive and licking.
Mistress beamed down radiantly upon her slave as he happily and very noisily suckled upon my engorged member. An expression of Mistressly pride upon her heavenly visage as she beheld such a joyous coupling between a gentleman purportedly straight until 10 minutes ago and his new found one true love in the form of 9 inches of Bigdownunder ravishing his larynx.
We considered the age old chicken and egg conundrum as to what came first, the bi curiosity or the eagerness to obey his Mistress. Or perhaps the two exist simultaneously. A sort of Schrodinger’s cock.
We enjoyed the spectacle of Mr Cuckold eagerly Impaling his epiglottis. Deeply enough that with the addition of a strapon up his ass, we could perchance have rotated him like a cannibal’s dinner roasting on a spit.
If we’d left him uninterrupted he’d still be down there like a slutty ramora trying to engulf a terrifying pink Moray.
The inevitable moment came when Mistress Charlotte’s own libido exceeded her voyeuristic delight. At which point she unceremoniously grabbed him by the neck and wrenched him loose like an errant aphid off a girthy beanstalk.
“you greedy slut!” “that’s more than enough cocksucking for you today” “lie there and keep your hands and your tongue to yourself. You can watch how a real man pleasures your Mistress.”
I dangled my balls over the void of his hoover like respiratory tract. Trusting in his obedience not to inhale my scrotum without permission. And penetrated Mistress Charlotte gently at first as thunder above rumbled a harbinger of the tempest to come. Charlotte and I united like two storm clouds colliding, soon with all the furious ardour of Thor wielding his hammer in the forges of Valhalla.
Lightning struck and the room was momentarily illuminated in electric radiance as the storm broke. Charlotte’s moans had turned to screams as she she and I neared climax. I stepped back pulling her with me to a standing position and pressed her tits down on slaves face smothering him in erotic asphyxiation as he jerked off his tiny but diamond hard dick.
In the eye of the storm in the moments before the heavens opened Charlotte and I almost levitating on the crackling atmosphere we released Mr Cuckold from his ensconcement in her Valkyrian cleavage and Charlotte leaned in face to face to say “this is how a woman loves to be fucked” “how would you like it if Oz fucked you like this?” No sooner had the last syllable been uttered than Mr Cuckold arched up like a man in urgent need of an exorcist and ejaculated with a force akin to the bucketing torrents of rain beating down on the roof. Charlotte and I got the giggles.”I think that means he likes the idea!”
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