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. Madonna's Brush with Love

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Curt Bruch, Oct 1, 2017.

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  1. Curt Bruch

    Curt Bruch Well-Known Member Member Author!

    We wed far too young but that’s what you did way back then; there wasn’t really any thought given to doing otherwise. You left school; got a job; sometime soon you met a boy; you fell in love (or something that you thought was love); you got married and, Game, Set and Match, live happily ever after; Sorted.

    That was 30 years ago; now it’s so different and I wish I knew then what I know now for maybe things would have worked out somewhat otherwise or, rather, a bit sooner but, then again, isn’t that what they say about hindsight?

    However, no real regrets for over the years my attitudes along with the rest of society has changed and I like to think that although my marriage hasn’t been all ‘happily ever after’ I am living the good life and, even better, that hubby Jake gives me every encouragement to push the boundaries so that we enjoy our agreeable life together.

    Jake has always called me his Madonna. It’s a silly thing really for my name is Mary. Our friends puzzle about the name but we never tell them the reason; it’s our private joke. If we did tell it would be explained that because I wouldn’t let him take my cherry until we were properly married he said I was his ‘Virgin Mary’. The paradox of him using that name is that since the first experience of having a cock inside my pussy on our wedding night and the change it caused to my desires, it makes the name so ironic. As I said; a silly name.

    Since that wonderful day I have constantly craved the next time; the next cock; the next climax. I didn’t turn into a nymphomaniac; I just love sex and now, with Jake’s blessing, I get it when and wherever I can. He really doesn’t mind. Early on in our marriage he recognised that his sex-drive was way below mine and once it was established that he was my one and only one and that I would love him forever (no matter what) then the restraints were off. His only ‘rule’ was that I would always let him know if I was going to ‘play away’ and, if the circumstances were right, that he could be a witness and, maybe, a participant. For me marriage has turned into a very agreeable arrangement.

    But don’t get me wrong, I am not some kind of insatiable female with an out of control libido; far from it. I may have had a few extra-marital liaisons over the past few years but it has all been very discrete and I like it best when I can play at home; far more comfortable when I know that I am in control.

    I met Jake when I worked for the same airline as him. I was an admin person in the aircraft stores centre; he was a mechanic and we saw each other daily when he came by to collect some spare part replacement for the aircraft he was fixing. I thought he looked nice; he thought I looked hot and the rest was history when we got married a few months later.

    30 years down the line and he still works for the same airline but now in a fairly high managerial position. He is often called away to go back into work to deal with some problem or other and I am never sure when I might see him home again once he leaves for work in the morning. Such are the pressures of his position.

    Me? Well we hadn’t been married too long before I fell pregnant and I gave up work to become a dutiful housewife. In quick succession over the next couple of years we had firstly a Son and then a Daughter; we adore them both.

    Being pregnant seemed to increase my sexual desires and poor Jake just couldn’t keep up with me and my demands. However, it all worked out rather well for after the birth of our Daughter complications with my ‘lady parts’ caused me to have my tubes tied and with there now being no possibility of my becoming pregnant again we came to the agreement that I was free to go and find what Jake couldn’t provide.

    What Jake could provide though was a nice home and as he progressed through the ranks we found that we could afford to do more and so we moved from house to house until we ended up in a delightful 4 bedroom detached property with lots of development potential in a smart part of town. It was ideal for the pair of us with a growing family and we really believed that we didn’t need to go any further up the property ladder; we were happy with what we got and indeed that’s where we have stayed.

    The kids grew, we grew and the time came when the dynamic changed and the kids began to fly from the nest. First off our Son went to university and then the Daughter became heavily involved with a boyfriend who before she also moved out seemed to be forever around the house or, more specifically, her bedroom. It didn’t take a great stretch of the imagination to know what was going on for the noises of passion and fucking were forever evident. I used to go and creep and listen outside the door whenever she was entertaining and the soundtrack was delicious beyond description. I would always feel myself getting wet between the thighs and, dare I admit, I used to masturbate in sync with what I imagined was happening behind the closed door. What kind of Mother was I? The boyfriend, by the way, was a hunk and I had the most delightful fantasies as I imagined his evidently big cock satisfying first my daughter and then me!


    Our house was a little palace but I had plans to make it a bigger palace for I was never entirely satisfied that our en-suite bathroom was as big or as grand as I wished. So it was that I convinced Jake that we should do a renovation and take out the existing vanity and sink, extend the back wall so that we could increase the floor area and put a bigger unit into the enlarged space.

    Jake, bless him, had no objections and we contacted a builder who came up with a costed plan which satisfied my vision for creating a luxury bathroom. He suggested various options such as a sunken bath tub; a wet room and the provision of a bidet. The idea of washing my pussy in such an intimate fashion sealed the deal as far as I was concerned. He began the project the following week.

    Carl - the builder - gave the impression of being a very competent tradesman and we were not disappointed in his expertise as he worked through the task of converting what was a regular bathroom into some kind of spa. There was only one drawback and that was he needed to remove the existing window on the back wall and there was a delay in the suppliers delivering the replacement unit. It meant that the gap in the wall would have to be covered with a temporary sheet of plastic until the new window could be delivered. (Did I mention that Carl was also a hunk in his own right albeit he must have been as old as my Father?!)

    Given the situation of us being at the end of the road and not overlooked by anyone I had no problem with us having a relatively insecure covering the outer wall to our bathroom and I was quite relaxed at living with the condition of a flapping piece of plastic protecting my privacy and covering my modesty.


    Come the end of the week and Carl apologised that the new window still hadn’t been delivered but, he had been advised it would be here on Monday. Not a problem for me other than having to live with flapping plastic sheeting for a window. Carl said his goodbyes and I turned my attention to the upcoming weekend.

    It was early afternoon when Jake called and apologised that he might be a little late for the dinner date that he had promised me for that evening. I picked up the phone to hear, “My dear Madonna, something’s come up which I need to sort out. I shouldn’t be too long but make sure you’re ready to go just as soon as I get home.”

    I heard this so many times before so it was no surprise when I told him that I would take a leisurely shower and do whatever I needed to do in slow time and, yes, I would be ready for him whenever that might be.

    I took myself into our partially completed bathroom and safe in the knowledge that Carl was elsewhere I stripped off and stepped into the wet room with its multiple shower roses which sprayed gentle warm rain from the ceiling or, if one chose, had hand-held spray heads that you could direct wherever you pleased. (No surprises where I chose to direct the torrent; God, is there anything more sensuous or stimulating than squirting that stream on your clit?)

    I stepped from the shower feeling both refreshed and, more disturbingly, extremely horny. I silently cursed that Jake wasn’t around to satisfy me and, wickedly, with Carl gone that there didn’t seem to be any alternative cock available either. That was when I spotted the collection of lotions and deodorants and other bottled unctions which littered the temporary shelf that Carl had provided. “Oh my God,” I thought, “just look at the shape of that body lotion bottle. That’s a phallic object, a dildo, if ever I saw one.”

    I picked up the pink plastic bottle with its smooth rounded cap, unscrewed the top and covered my palm with the silky, perfumed, creamy contents. I rubbed the foam over my tummy and then smoothed the excess down towards my groin. It felt lovely and I delighted in the sensation of the cream being smoothed over my skin and the naughtiness of slipping my fingers into my wet cunt. My breathing began to deepen as I massaged myself and I started to sense those delightful feelings that preclude me giving myself pleasure.

    I leaned against the wall and with my spread legs began to properly masturbate. Oh, it felt so lovely as I allowed all manner of lewd thoughts to pass through my head. My fingers squished back and forth inside my wet pussy and I imagined that it was Curt/Jake/my Daughter’s Boyfriend who was giving me such intimate attention. A few moments of this and I looked at the lotion bottle thinking, “What the hell; why not?” and picked it up. Within a few seconds I was silently blessing the marketing people who had obviously given much thought to the design of their container, it slipped into my cunt as if it had been specifically calculated to do so. Oh my, surely I wasn’t the only horny female to have discovered this delight.

    I slowly frigged myself with my new found friend and heard myself quietly grunting and moaning as this faithful tool satisfied my craving pussy. I simultaneously caressed my tits and as I fucked myself with my plastic friend I was gratified to feel my nipples stiffen as the sensations swirled over me.

    I continued thus for a little while pacing myself so that my climax didn’t come too quickly and it was then that I had the genius idea of applying a little mechanical help. Although I have a comprehensive collection of toys in my bedroom I didn’t want to spoil the moment by stopping what I was doing; a glance to Carl’s shelf reminded me that there was another device which had great potential; my electric tooth brush.

    With my plastic cock pushed up inside my warm wet cunt I reached over and switched on the brush. It gave the familiar whirr and rapidly spun up to speed; I lowered it to my pussy and I lightly applied the head to my clitoris. I thought my head was going to explode; my God I’ve never felt anything like it, it was mind-blowing.

    I got into some kind of rhythm of slowly stroking my new plastic friend in and out of my slippery slit whilst lightly, ever so lightly, grazing my erect and sensitive clit with the buzzing brush. It was heavenly and soon my legs began to shake as I felt the onset of what turned into a shattering climax. I dropped the brush to the floor and when I squeezed my vagina muscles together the lotion bottle popped out covered in my juices and clattered to the floor to join my electric toy.

    I stood leaning against the wall for a few moments trying to gather breath my body feeling alive but still wanting. My masturbation has only stimulated me rather than satisfy and I wanted more. My prayers were answered for when I eventually opened my eyes it was to see Carl was standing by the open window, zip undone with his stiff cock in his hand, looking at me with a smile on his face as he stroked. I gasped at the shock of seeing him there and feebly wondered just for how long and what had he witnessed; the impressive looking cock in his hand kind of answered those questions!

    “What are you .. why are you ... ?” I babbled as he stepped through the opening into the bathroom. I stood transfixed as he came toward me still with his hand wrapped around his erect penis. I was unsure, no, I was quite sure that his intentions were soon to be made clear.

    “I forgot to take home some of my tools,” he said as a way of explaining his unexpected appearance, “but I’m glad I did and saw what you were up to. You’re lovely and watching you play with yourself just now has confirmed my thoughts that you are some kind of sexy bitch.”

    I gathered my composure and tried to make light of what was a surreal situation. “erm, not sure what tools you had forgotten but I think that you are holding the only one that would interest me.” I reached out and pushed his hand to one side and replaced it with mine. “Come on, let’s go into the bedroom; I’ve got some unfinished business that needs attention.”


    It was after he had bought me to orgasm for the second time that I asked him if that was really the reason he had returned to the house. He gave me that smile again and said, "No, not really. It was a lame excuse and ... please don't be mad.

    “I have wanted to have you the day I first set eyes on you when I came to the house to plan your renovations. Jake noticed my attention and guessed correctly what I was thinking. He told me of your situation and said that if I really wanted to make a play for you then he would have no objections. I’m thinking, ‘how weird is that?’ but, boy, was I delighted at the prospect.”

    I smiled at the confession and asked, “So what did the pair of you concoct?”

    “Jake told me that you had made plans for this evening and that you were going out. But he then said this afternoon would provide an ideal opportunity for me to make a move on you and we decided that I would delay fixing the window so that I could get easy access.”

    I frowned and asked, “What do you mean ‘we’?”

    Carl looked a little concerned when he continued, “Well Jake reckoned if he delayed his coming home I would have plenty of time to seduce and then fuck you. He said that there would be no doubt that you would welcome another, a different cock inside you and, here’s the weird part, that he would love to witness it after I had given you that satisfaction.”

    I giggled and gave him a punch on the arm, “You pair of sickos. You needn’t have gone to so much trouble. Jake knows that I would have been happy to fuck with you from that first day.”

    He laughed back, relieved at my reaction to hearing their dubious but unnecessary plan. As we lay basking in the afterglow my phone rang. I picked up, “Hello sweet Madonna, I’m just leaving and am on my way home. Are you good?”

    “You silly boy,” I answered, “I’m more than good. Hurry home and, by the way, we’re eating in tonight; we’ve got company. I hope you're hungry.”

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