A Meeting of the Good Wives Club

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Using my husband for lessons in prostate massage.
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My husband was on the cover of the local business journal. William was pictured sitting in a chair suitable for Buckingham Palace with the words, "Businessman of the Year," in big letters across the top. I was so proud of him that I passed out copies to everyone I knew, including most of the guys I date. One of those guys, Jeff, is in one of the pictures included in William's feature story inside the magazine. In that picture, he and William are wearing suits, ties, and white hard hats, and they are shaking hands at a ground-breaking ceremony full of civic leaders. Little do any of those business people know that those two guys shook hands again later that evening after Jeff fucked William's wife (Yes, that would be me.). I was standing out of the camera's eye during that picture, feeling the anticipation of our planned date for the evening, of which, only the three of us were aware.

Well, I suppose only the three of us were aware. For all I know Jeff could be bragging to all the other guys that he's fucking William's wife.

I hope he is. That's a nice thought.

That evening was an evening to remember, but it was time to schedule another special event. With William's new found fame, a celebration was in order for my "Businessman of the Year," so I told him to contact Michael and see if he would be available to join us.

"Join us for what?" William asked.

"Dinner in your honor, silly. Tell him you would like him to stay the night, and make sure he knows that you can accommodate his schedule. If he can't make it, then try Ryan."

Michael and I had been dating for some time, but life and work and schedules conspired against us, and I had not seen him in months. I was really, really hoping he could join us. Not to mention, he is one of my favorites. He is big and strong, and he fucks like a rabid barbarian. He's got a cock like one, too. I guess you could say he is the exact opposite of William.

The next day William called me from work while I was out shopping.

"Michael says he can make it on Thursday."

"That is wonderful!" I replied. "We will have such a good time!" I told William he would have to leave work early that day and plan to stay home on Friday. "You'll have so much to do before he gets here," I said. "You'll need to make sure there are fresh sheets on the bed, get all the toys ready, get some hors d'oeuvres, and you'll need to pick up his favorite liquor on the way home."

"I think he likes scotch, and we already have some."

"You think?" I replied as I perused shoes. "You can't think, William. You have to know. Hold on, sweetie." I held up a really cute Shoes of Prey wedge sandal to the sales guy. "Excuse me, hon. I need this in a size 6." He took the sandal and walked away. "William, do you want to ruin your own celebration? Details are important. Find out what his favorite is and make sure we have it. And find out what his favorite restaurant is, too. Make reservations for whatever time he wants. This will be so much fun! Aren't you happy?"

"I'm always happy when you're happy. Do you want me to prep the family room?"

"Hmm...I have to think about it." The sales guy was on his way back with my sandals. "We'll talk about it tonight, but I need to go. I'm busy right now."

We got off the phone just as the sales guy opened the box.

"Those are blue," I told him. "I handed you a red sandal."

"Yes, Ma'am, but these might be the only ones I have in a six."

"Might?" I said. (What is it about males and "maybe"?) I smiled at him. "Hon, I want that sandal in red in a size six. That's what I want."

He hesitated briefly. I guess it took him that long to understand that "might" isn't an answer. But then, he was just a boy.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. He packed up the blue shoes and headed into the back room. Now I was going to have to wait, unnecessarily.

"Whew," I sighed. "Boys."

William and I didn't get to talking about the details of his celebration until we were both sitting in bed. Actually, William was sitting up and I was lying on my side. Just thinking about Michael staying with us had me very aroused, so while William jotted notes on a legal pad, I gently stroked his cute, little erection. Erect cocks always feel so silky, even tiny ones like William's.

"Maybe we should cook dinner here," I suggested. "What do you think?"

"I think..." He let go a sigh of pleasure. I had been stroking his little willie for some time, letting my fingertips tenderly tease his tiny cockhead.

"Don't cum, sweetie," I told him. He swallowed hard and continued.

"Michael said he really likes Saffron, that..." William's toes curled and he tensed. He was having great difficulty maintaining his composure. He let out another sigh and continued. "...that restaurant over by the mall."

"Oh, that's a great restaurant," I replied. "I've been there before, but I think that was with Jack."

William grabbed my hand and stopped my stroking.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"Lisa, I'll cum if you don't stop."

I sat up frustrated. "I swear, William, you're such a wimp. You always ruin my fun."

"I'm sorry," he said, "but you told me not to cum, so I'm warning you."

"You don't warn me, cuck boy. I warn you. Just for that, you can go get my paddle."

"Aww, come on, Lisa."

I folded my arms. "You just got yourself another swat."

He rolled his eyes, jumped up from the bed, and returned with my paddle, which is wrapped in brown leather and signed by numerous premature ejaculators I've known through the years. I made the "Businessman of the Year" get on his hands and knees on the floor and just for fun I put a stocking over his head.

"William," I laughed, "you look like a naked bank robber with tiny balls."

He actually got impatient with me and said, "Can we get this over with?" I couldn't believe how disrespectful he was being!

"You'd better shut your mouth, pussy boy." I grabbed a leash out of my nightstand, cinched it around his wimpy balls, and gave it a strong tug. "You want to get impatient now?"

"No!"

I put my foot on his bare ass and pulled harder on the leash. "You'd better mind your manners!"

"I mean, 'No, Ma'am'!"

I held the leash taunt, rolling it up in my hand, and gave him a good swack! His ass cheek turned red and he grunted in pain.

"What are you, William?"

"I'm a cuckold."

I gave him another swack!

"And who owns you?"

"You do, Lisa. You do."

I delivered another swack!

"Am I good to you?"

"Yes, Ma'am. You are very good to me."

Another swack! "Just one 'very'?"

"No, Ma'am. Very, very, good to me. Very."

I placed the paddle against his stretched balls. "Apologize, cuck boy."

"Lisa! No! I apologize! Seriously! I apologize!"

"That's better," I smiled. "You're a good boy, William. You just get a little brassy some times."

I dropped the leash and went and sat down in one of the chairs in the corner of our bedroom. I opened my legs and pulled my satin nightshirt up to my waist. "Take off that stupid-looking stocking and crawl over here, pussy boy," I told him. "I'm going to do you a favor now." I sat back in the chair and watched him crawl between my supple thighs. The leash was still strapped around his little prune and it dragged behind him like the tail of a kite. "Since you apologized, I'm going to let you eat pussy. Isn't that sweet of me?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm a good wife, aren't I, William?"

"Yes, Ma'am. You're the best wife a man could want."

I brushed his hair with my fingers. "Ah, you're so sweet," I said, and I sat back. "Okay, give your loving wife a good orgasm, hon. I know you'll enjoy it."

William began to lick and suck tenderly and attentively. It felt so wonderful having him suck my little clit into his well-trained mouth. He really is a very well practiced pussy boy, and sometimes I loan him out to my girlfriends in our private swing club. I always make him take a "Satisfaction Survey" with him. It's a pamphlet I created so the ladies can let me know how well my husband performed for them. William knows he had better not come home with a bad score. He'll be locked up for a month. But they don't just use him for oral servitude. Sometimes they need a cuckold servant, and William loves serving the needs of privileged men and the loving wives they fuck. My friend, Tina, always writes on the survey card, "Best clean-up boy I've ever seen."

She's so sweet.

On this night William had crawled between my legs and he was doing quite well at providing me oral servitude, so I got comfortable in the chair and closed my eyes, while he did his cuck boy duty.

"Mmm, that's so nice," I said. "Aren't I good to you, William?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Very, very good to me."

"Hand me the leash, hon."

William handed me the leash, and I held tension on his balls while he serviced his wife like a good husband should.

"We're going to have a nice celebration when Michael gets here," I said, smiling, "and I expect you to be a very good boy, William. On your best behavior."

"I will be."

"You'd better," I said. "Last time you lubed him up quickly, like his cock was going to bite you or something. Don't do that again. You lube his gorgeous cock slowly, with care and respect. Besides, it's one of the rare occasions when you'll ever get to touch a real cock. You shouldn't rush it, hon."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll do better."

"Don't talk," I said, and I nestled into the comfort of the chair. "Just make me feel good. I know you want to."

William sucked and licked like the most precious little pussy boy, and I wondered if the shoe sales guy couldn't learn a few things from my sweet husband. Hmm, maybe I could start a training academy for husbands. "Lisa's Pussy Boy Training Academy." Or maybe just call it, "LTA: Lisa's Training Academy." I could train wimpy cuckolds and powerful studs at the same time. Now there's a job I could get into. I already have a group of women I instruct on how to handle husbands and lovers. We call ourselves the Good Wives Club. I recently gave them a class on prostate massage/milking, which can be used as punishment for a disobedient husband, or it can be used as reward for those rare cases when a husband deserves a good cum session.

Yes, believe it or not, sometimes a husband deserves a little pleasure.

But usually it is punishment, and I once massaged William's prostate every evening for a week, bringing him to the edge multiple times every time. He wore a cage all that week and he was never allowed to cum. I waited another week before I let his little cock out of jail, which I did just before we left to go eat at a fancy restaurant. After we finished eating, I sat next to him in the booth, pulled his starving penis out of his pants, and gave him a little hand job right there in the restaurant. It didn't take 30 seconds before his neglected little willie spewed cum all over his dark blue shirt. I wiped my hand on his pants and said, "Get the check. I'll be waiting outside." He had to walk out of the crowded restaurant covered in cum. From that point on, he thought twice about buying new clothes without my permission.

I told that story to the Good Wives Club during their last visit. They arrived at our house separately, Tina, Lynn, Lauren, and Tracy, (Brooke couldn't make that meeting) and William greeted each one at the door wearing nothing but a tight black T-shirt and a bright metal cock cage. The girls always give him a little pat on the cage when the say hello at the door. William served coffee, or tea, or whatever they wanted, and when it came time for training, he passed out latex gloves. Tracy, who is about 34 and is the newest of the group, had never worked a cock cage before, so I let her unlock William's and remove it. As soon as she pulled it off his little willie shot up like a spring. It was so cute we all had a good laugh. Tracy turned to me and said, "Is that as big as it gets?"

"William," I said, "tell Miss Tracy the answer, hon."

"Yes, Ma'am," William told her, "that's as big as it gets."

Tracy was almost embarrassed that she asked. "Oh my God!" she said. "How do you milk something that small?"

It was time to start the lesson, so I put William on his hands and knees on the floor with his ass facing the group. I sat in a kitchen chair in the middle of the room with William next to me. I put on a glove and lubed my thumb.

"Open your legs, cuck boy," I told him. William spread his legs further and I inserted my thumb into his rear. A wave passed through his body and he let out a quick sigh. "In this position, it's in and down," I told my class. "You don't have to go in very far, and you'll feel it, sort of like a spongy walnut - well, a small grape with William." I showed them how to apply pressure and massage, round and round, back and forth. William began to squirm and moan and I had to tell him to be still. His penis was as stiff as a cadaver. I showed the girls that using the thumb kept their fingers free to grab the balls.

"You can do a firm grip of the balls to remind him who is boss," I said, squeezing William's sack. He tensed and let out a moan of pain. "Or you can move them gently, as part of a pleasurable massage."

I then let Tracy try. She put on her glove, knelt next to William, and inserted her thumb.

"I feel it," she said.

"Shove your thumb all the way in," I told her, "plant it deep, and use your fingers to grab his balls. Now with your other hand, you can reach under and pump his little erection."

"This feels kind of natural," she said, and she fell into a slow, methodic rhythm. William let out a whimper.

"Don't you dare cum, William," I sternly told him. "All these women need a chance to try it."

"Oh, Lisa," he begged, "let me give a signal please or else I will cum, and I don't want to disappoint you."

As much as I wanted him to be a man and hold off, I knew that he would squirt too soon with another woman giving him a prostate massage. I didn't want the interruptions it would cause with him calling "Stop" all the time, but I had no choice. I was nice about it and told him he could warn the ladies if he was about to cum.

"Ah, William," I replied, stroking his hair, "you're just another disappointing premature ejaculator. Come put your head in my lap, baby, and if you feel close, you say 'wimp' and the ladies will stop."

He laid his head in my lap and I stoked his hair like a child.

"Go ahead, Tracy," I said, "but stop moving if he says 'wimp.'"

It turned out to be a good thing that William cums so easily. It allowed me to show the group how to keep a guy right on the edge. Tracy massaged and pumped, and William rolled his head around in my lap and moaned, desperately trying to hold off. In less than a minute he called, "Wimp."

"Don't move, Tracy," I told her, "be perfectly still."

"Oh my goodness," she said. "I can feel his ass clenching."

Tracy waited until I told her to start again. She massaged long enough that William had to call "Wimp" two more times. When she was finally done, she pulled off her glove and with a giggle she said, "You have a tight ass, William."

Tina was next and she knows William pretty well. She stuck her thumb in his ass and told him, "Don't you cum, cuck boy. I need the practice."

"I'll try, Miss Tina. I'll try my best."

He didn't make it very far before he had to say "wimp" again. Tina stopped with her thumb buried in his ass.

"His ass is sucking my thumb like a baby," she said. Then she looked up at me. "Lisa, he's dribbling precum all over your carpet."

"William!"

"I'm sorry!"

Lynn ran to the guest bathroom for me and brought back a couple of towels. She threw one under him to protect the carpet and we continued on with the training. Lynn had her turn, and Lauren had a turn, and by the time they were finished, William was a blob of anxious, frustrated mush. His legs were trembling, his ass was clenching, and his little erection was drooling long gooey strings of precum.

"Stand up," I told him.

He stood next to me and his little dick pointed straight forward. I continued my talk with the girls while I wiped William's small erection clean. I told him to lay the other towel on the couch between Lynn and Tracy and to bring me some handcuffs. I handcuffed his hands behind his back and told him to take a seat on the towel on the couch. As we all talked about husbands and how much we love them, Tracy kept touching the underside of William's erection and watching it flinch.

"It's so cute," she giggled.

William was making sad faces, so I took the towel drenched in precum and draped it over his head so we didn't have to see. Tracy amused herself, touching his cock as we talked. She would touch him just under his tiny cockhead, a very light, quick stroke. William's baby gherkin would jump up and his stomach muscles would tense.

Suddenly his little cock sprang up and spewed a long rope of cum all over his black shirt. We had no idea he was going to erupt. Lynn and Tracy screamed and jumped off the couch to avoid getting hit by any cuckold cum. William's little erection laid down, and then sprang up and spewed another stream. It laid down, and then sprang up and spewed again.

"Oh my God!" Lynn laughed. "Look at it! It's a male fail!"

William's cock had a life of its own, springing up and spewing and springing up and spewing, over and over, and with his hands cuffed, there was nothing he could do to control it. We ladies laughed and watched him helplessly paint his slender torso in stream after stream of cuck boy cum. When he was finally done, his shirt was completely soaked in his pearly cream.

"Are you done now, William?" I asked.

He answered from under the towel. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, breathless and embarrassed.

"I've never seen him produce that much cum before," I told the girls. "You guys really primed him good!"

"We're good students," Tina joked. "Look how much we got out of those little balls."

It seemed like a good time to call it a day, so I saw the girls to the door and then walked back to William, who was still sitting handcuffed on the couch with a towel over his head and cold cum all over his shirt. He couldn't see me, but I looked at him with disappointment.

"Are you proud of yourself?" I asked him.

"I couldn't help it. She kept touching me."

"You nearly got cuck boy cum on Lynn and Tracy, William. Do you know how embarrassed I would have been if that happened?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"You're damn right, you will," I said. He didn't say anymore and I could tell he was feeling ashamed. He looked so pitiful hanging his towel covered head, and I began to feel a little sorry for him. "Were you humiliated, hon?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Majorly humiliated. I couldn't make my dick stop cumming and they were all laughing at me."

His cock was beginning to grow hard again, so I didn't say a word. I stood there, staring at him, knowing that he would figure out that I was watching him get an erection because of the humiliation. And it was easy to tell when the thought occurred to him, because his baby gherkin got so hard so quickly that it flexed, like it had done while he was spewing cum. It made me chuckle.

"You're such a pussy, William."

He closed his legs somewhat, trying to hide at his little erection.

"You will write every one of those ladies a letter of apology," I said, "and you will offer to do favors for them. Anything they want. You will write one to Brooke, too."

"Brooke? Why Brooke? She wasn't even here!"

"Because I said so. Show me the letters before you send them, and make sure you explain to Brooke how this happened."

William saw the flash of my phone camera from under his towel.

"I'm sure she will find your uncontrolled ejaculation amusing." I pulled the towel off of his head and showed him the picture of himself covered in cum with a towel over his head, then I looked at the picture, myself. "I think I'll send this to Michael," I said. "He would find it amusing, too."

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