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. Night visiting

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Lutheran Maid, Jan 4, 2018.

. Night visiting 3.1 5 7votes
3.1/5, 7 votes

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  1. Lutheran Maid

    Lutheran Maid Well-Known Member Author!

    When I look up at the clock it is a little after 3 a.m. I have been fucking with Leon for most of the day and the first part of the night as well. My lover has been away on a posting. He is in the marines and he has to make trips. He has to do his duty, to kill people if they stand in the way of what our country dictates. When he got home, I sent Robert to the kitchen to work. I didn't want my husband in the way, even though he had driven to the airport to pick my lover up. Robert has his uses, but the intimate conversations, the come home conversations, are always private. So Robert despatched to his chores I asked Leon about how it had been? He grunted at first, saying that was the dirty, tired, grimy over there stuff. May be it was worth leaving that aside? But I insisted. We have our best sex when he talks about his feelings as well as his sexual desires. I am in love with him. This isn't just sex. Much as I am willing to do to Robert anything that he wants, I want to work with Leon's feelings and experiences too. I want to be his confidante as well as his bitch to fuck. There, I thought so. Leon is a sniper, he is brutally lethal with a rifle and telescopic sights. This tour, amidst the dust and the crazy ideology of the fucking lunatics who are our enemy he wasted two of them. Both took a bullet through the head and dropped dead in their tracks. He wasted them, in an instant, without a struggle, there, then gone. Somewhere, back in the crazy hinterlands from whence they came, some stupid little bitch was going to be missing her man because of what mine had done with him. As he spoke his hand trembled. He is a man of clear conviction, they had it coming. But doing it again and again, at a cold and calculating distance still takes some doing. I know that it does. So I drew his hand, first onto my stocking covered thigh and then up beneath the supple black leather of my pleated skirt. He felt my stocking tops, the suspender straps there and then the soft curls of my pubes. When he pushed the hem of my skirt up he saw my neatly trimmed hair of my bush and the fresh tattoo. A red heart with a scroll across it reading, 'Leon's'. 'I am yours' I whispered, 'Robert knows it, he accepts it, I will always be here for you when you come home.' We kissed then, slowly, tenderly, Leon pushing his fingers inside me. He felt my pulse there, felt my wetness, the need and heat that I had for him. Robert came in briefly, quietly with drinks for us, bourbon and set them down on the coffee table. He glanced at Leon's hand up between my legs, the way I pushed my sex against it and he whispered, 'your drinks sir'. Leon was kissing my neck though, kissing greedily. I looked at Robert's drawn, tired face and hissed, 'get out now.'

    We fucked then, first on the sofa, Leon forcing my legs up over his burley shoulders, and then on the master bed. I loved it. I loved it thinking about how decisively brutal, how deadly he could be. I loved the sheer power, not only of his thrusting, animal, massively strong body but of his steel mind too. How long had it taken to completely subdue Robert? A week or two. A couple of beatings, some threats and then the trembling acceptance of my husband as Leon dated me openly. In the second week of our affair Leon had come back to our place on a Sunday afternoon and sent my husband to clean his sports car whilst he fucked me upstairs. The bedroom window was open, it was a warm day and Leon made me beg and moan beneath his thrusting body. He made me grace the quiet avenue with my mewing, my eager moans, whilst Robert waxed my lover's motor on the drive below. That was how Leon was. Very, very, direct.

    Now, it is three a.m. and I have been fucked so much I can barely sleep. My sex is sore. Of course I am bored out, my cunt worked so that it fits the superior cock of my black lover, but after a lay off whilst Leon was away I can still be very sore. I remember how the tattooist stared at my sex. Leon was black right? Well, that was obvious, wasn't it? My sex was stretched. My clitty stood proud of its hood. I was used to being on heat for cock. I wore a wedding ring, but having your husband's name tattooed on your sex wasn't the sexy fashion thing. You did that when you were owned. You did that when a black guy was on the nest, enjoying you and suppressing your husband. So I said to the tattooist, 'what do you think?' and left him to get on with it. There were a lot of married girls getting tattooed he said. This sort of way. It was a military town and the black guys, well the black guys ruled the roost. I asked him whether he approved, white girls going with the black men? Tattooist man was pasty white. He looked uncomfortable but nodded. Girls did the choosing. Beautiful women, with beautiful pussies, well they chose black guys. I guessed the guy wanted to lick me. There are so many weak white men. But I didn't let him and had him finish the job up. Right now though, when its still dark, down where the tattoo is, I'm very wet, very spunked up and pretty sore.

    Gently, silently, I extricate myself from Leon's muscular arms, easing his chronograph strapped wrist from around my waist and I slip out of bed. He is such a big man. His chest is huge, pumped up in a gym, over an assault course. He kills people and Robert knows it. 'I am going to be Leon's' I told Robert at the start, 'and you can fight it out with him if you object'. Well he didn't did he? Of course he didn't. Leon would have mangled him into a tiny ball and kicked him into the trash bin. As I glance out of the window the full moon is up. It lights a cat stalking across the lane near where Leon's Porsche is parked. Right now I am wearing nothing but a pearl choker about my throat, one that Leon bought me in Dubai en route home. But if I am going to discipline Robert, if I am going to soothe my sore pussy too, I decide to slip on a pair of high heeled black leather severe looking boots. I zip them up, watching Leon to see whether the sound disturbs him. He barely moves. I step out onto the landing and next door to the box bedroom where Robert sleeps.

    My cuck is a light sleeper, ever attentive to my whims, but this time when I press the door open I find him fast asleep, on his back, his hands down his front. I guess that he has been playing with himself. Even though his cock is caged and it hurts when he makes it swell, he still touches himself. Given the amount of fucking Leon has been doing these last hours, its little wonder that Robert struggles to keep his paws from his groin. Leon was an animal with me. Really rough, constant fucking. I have spunk oozing out of my pussy and my bottom. Leon takes it all. As I look down on Robert the moon lights his face. He looks like a nerd, he looks like a simpleton in some kind of way. Th truth is I have have humiliated any grace or beauty out of the man. I have made him a toy for me and ergo then too, for Leon. So now he is going to pleasure me. He is going to lick my sex until it soothes and then he is going to clean up my bottom. Pussy first, always, so he doesn't transfer germs.

    Straddling Robert is easy. The mattress is firm and the springs don't creak. I am light and nimble, a shapely young woman in her late twenties and a little bitch like several other women in the town. So I am on his chest in an instant, pinning his arms to his side, beneath the duvet and against my boots. The smell of leather as I move onto his chest is delicious. It's just so sexy. As he awakens he can't move. He can't wriggle free. he is pinned. I wait there, seated on his chest and wait for him to take in what is happening. I have night visited before, taught him to open his mouth ready for me to slip my sex onto it. The ritual is that he licks silently, obediently to direction. This time though, he is still waking, he is still struggling from some dream. Look, I'm your succubus Robert. I will have you serve me. He actually tries to wriggle, as though this is a nightmare. He is barely awake. So I slap his face and settle my sex onto his mouth. I settle like a bird moving down onto its eggs.

    'Lick it softly' I warn him, 'lick it better'.

    There, he starts to lick. His tongue tip applies just the right amount of pressure. Its a light, healing, anointing touch. It sweeps up Leon's sticky spunk and he swallows it on down.

    I stroke his hair to signal my approval. Good boy, good boy. I know what this is doing to him. The smell of leather boots, the feel of them pinning him in his duvet cocoon cripples Robert. I often discipline him whilst wearing boots. I makes him shake, it makes him tremble and now, as I glide my sex lips over his wet little tongue, it makes him buck involuntarily behind me. I reach back. Yes, as I thought. Through the duvet I can feel his struggling stiffness. The sudden arrival, the domination, the smell and feel of my boots, it is wrecking him, stripping away his self esteem once again.

    You use a man in many ways but this is one of them. He is made to lick your sex but to keep that agile little tongue of his off your clitty. If you wanted him to lick you to arousal, perhaps even to a squirting orgasm on his face, you would direct him differently. Now though, now he is just a douche, a wet lathering on well exercised, spunk covered lips. I touch my breasts as I ride his face. I touch my nipples and they harden. I can arouse myself, just a little, but I don't want him to.

    'Leon will fuck you later today, ' I tell him, 'make sure you put your butt up for him like a good little faggot'.

    I know that Leon will, he always does soon after getting home. He puts Robert firmly in his place, reminding that we own him. Not just I, but Leon too.

    Robert's tongue is delicious. I love his ability to stiffen it to apply a subtle extra pressure. I like it when the smell and the taste of my fucking overwhelm his resistance and he combines tongue and top lip to suckle on my sex. He is swallowing a lot. Gasping for breathes and swallowing th spunk on down. Leon has been up me all day and now I am draining, draining. I left up for a moment and feel the spunk stringing out, gloopy below like one of those jungle hanging creepers. Robert follows it up to me, mouthing and swallowing it as he goes.

    'What a good little boy you are' I coo. It's exquisite.

    When your sex gets licked, blood flows there. Your sex lips swell. If you get licked a lot, your cunt starts to pout. So Robert had a lot to lick at, a lot to caress. I move so that he reaches the spots that I want. I reach back and feel his caged struggling cock. It is dancing against my fingers. This is so bitch for him. The smell of me, of Leon, of leather. Unable to resist, licking, licking at what Leon thrusts.

    'That nice?' I whisper.

    It's not 'nice' is it. No, it is needful and now that Robert is awake he is appreciative. The symbolism of licking me out is critical. I still want to use him for things. He still has a purpose in my life. The humiliation is paradoxically reassuring. I watch as he nods his head, gasping. Nice means something different doesn't it. Nice means being ashamed but accepting of your weakness. Nice means worshiping your mistress for the bitch that she is.

    It's time for my botty to be licked clean and so I shift forward now. Robert is really hooked. He manages a quick lick of the cuff at the top of my left boot in transit and then I lower my dripping bottom so that he can reach up and lick that clean too. Do I taste of poo? No, I taste of spunk don't I? I taste of Leon, can you taste that? Leon has been fucking me...you know, the way that he does! Robert licks and my botty hole clenches. God, that is so sexy! It addresses an itch, a need and longing for his humiliation, the physical and the psychological needs merge when you become like me...they do! I have taken so much cock there too that I cannot stop myself passing wind, but Robert has to lick regardless.

    At last....I stand. The moon is back on Robert's face. His face is a mess, gloopy spunk across his chin. I scoop some of that up and Robert licks my finger dutifully. Of course he is hoping. He is hoping that I will unlock his cock and masturbate him. But I haven't brought the key have I? And then, then there is the little matter of taking Leon's cock like a good little faggot first too. You know. House rules.
    AllenJ and smakmr like this.
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