Better Licking through Chemistry

It feels marvelous. I wrap both hands around the base of his massive cock, trying to cover his whole length with my hands and my mouth. Also, by having both hands there, I can control his thrusting so he doesn't force his cock down my throat. That, I fear, would kill me. But the thrusting he is doing, controlled by my hands, is marvelous. Again and again, my mouth fills with his hot, smooth cock and then empties as he pulls out-only to thrust in again.

As wonderful as this feels-and I hear myself moaning with pleasure-I'm tiring quickly. The ache in my jaw is overwhelming now and, reluctantly, I pull off his cock. As I stand up, I can see the desire in his eyes. I wonder, for a second, what he would do now if I stopped him and told him I didn't want to do anything more. Would he rape me? I guess that he would. He wouldn't even think about the fact that I had provoked it. He would just take what he had to have.

But I'm not going to do that to him. This isn't primarily based on compassion for him. Maybe if this were going to be a one-time thing, I would do that. It would be an interesting experience. But I didn't plan for this to be a one-time thing and I hadn't thought through the implications of having our relationship start out with a rape. Maybe it would be good. Maybe I could control him with his guilt or his fear. But I hadn't thought it through and I don't want to take chances.

Still stroking his cock with my hand, I look him in the eyes closely and ask him if he wants to fuck me. He does, of course, but he doesn't take the initiative. So I turn around, pulling my panties off and bend down over the counter. Then, I feel his hands on my hips and his strong cock-wet with my saliva-press against my cunt lips.

He's not subtle, or even gentle, but I'm really wet so his cock, despite its size, begins slipping into my cunt easily. But then it all changes. There is no friction; my cunt is as slippery as it could be. But his cock is stretching me now. The resistance is provided by the tightness of my cunt. This is a sensation I haven't felt since I was a teenager-when I was first getting fucked. I like the feeling. I like having to be stretched to take him in.

He is thrusting in to me pretty quickly, I think, but it is all in slow motion to me. I feel every inch of his cock. Each stroke takes him deeper into my hungry cunt. I realize that, even when he is bottoming out in my cunt, he still isn't completely in me. Slowly, my cunt stretches to accommodate him. At last, I can feel his pubic hair, then his pubic bone, pressing against my cheeks.

Now it's getting easier and he settles into a regular, insistent rhythm. I enjoy this and begin urging him along. He seems fine with the dirty talk: "Oh, god, yes. Fuck me with your big hard cock...Give it all to me...Let me feel your cock." He seems to like it especially when I tell him (truthfully) I've never felt such a big cock. Well, what 18-year old wouldn't?

I reach back, between my legs and feel his rod as it pistons into me. I push my fingers against the underside of his cock, knowing that this will drive him to a wild orgasm. It does. Soon he is pumping his load into my eager cunt. I don't have an orgasm, but I'm as satisfied as I can be without having one. God it feels good! I squeeze on his cock with my cunt muscles, trying to milk every drop of his cum.

When he pulls out of me, there an audible "plop". I turn around and sink to my knees to take him in my mouth. This isn't normal for me. Usually I don't like to take a guy's cock in my mouth after it is all slick with my juices. But this is different. I don't know whether it is because I haven't cum and am still horny or because I just can't let go of this beautiful black cock. But I take him in my mouth and clean him completely.

It feels very different to have his cock in my mouth when he isn't hard. He's still heavy and thick, but his cock doesn't thrust into me anymore. Now, I'm sucking him, kind of gently actually. It feels nice.

I'm not really trying to get him off again-or even get him hard. But when his cock starts to fill again, I'm excited. Feeling him harden in my mouth is marvelous. His swelling cock pushes my jaws apart and he begins thrusting in and out again. Ahh, youth! It can't be more than ten minutes since he exploded in my cunt. Now he's hard again and ready to blow his load in my mouth. It's a terrific feeling and I start working aggressively on his cock.

Both my hands are wrapped around his cock, just as when I was first sucking him. But now, I'm pumping him vigorously. When I can feel that he is beginning to be ready to cum, I pull off him long enough to look up at him. He is looking at me-lust distorting his face. I beg him to cum in my mouth-to fill me with his seed.

Now, for the first time, he takes my head in his hands. He forces his cock back into my mouth. And he starts thrusting wildly. I have my hands on the base of his cock mainly to keep him from impaling me with it. He lets out a groan and begins spewing cum in my mouth. It feels like a flood. Spurt after spurt fills my mouth and I swallow again and again. I'm amazed that he has so much cum in him so soon after filling my cunt.

I take his last shots on my face. It feels really naughty. Here I am a married woman; I've seduced a black boy, had him fuck me hard and now I'm on my knees before his beautiful black tool, taking his second load in my mouth and all over my face.

When he is finished, I lick his cock of the remaining drops of cum and wipe my face clean-making a show of licking the rest of his creamy semen from my fingers. I look forward to putting his cock back into his pants, but when I'm finished licking my fingers, he has already put his cock away.

I get up, picking up my panties. Instead of putting them on, I put them in my purse. Let him wonder about the meaning of that, I figure. I kiss him, for the second time. I leave him to lock up, telling him that I hope to see more of him tomorrow night. I want him to know that I do not consider this a one night stand.

When I get home, Chris is asleep in bed-or faking it. I drop my clothes on the floor, which he should by now take as a sign that I've just had a good fucking. Again, I don't wash up or even brush my teeth. If Chris can smell Steve on me-especially his cum on my breath-so much the better. It's time he learned that Rod was just the first. There will be many more.

Chris doesn't rouse, or even move. Maybe he's just faking. I don't care. I didn't have an orgasm with Steve and, up until now, I didn't feel frustrated. But now I'm feeling deprived. Chris should be good for something.

I rub up against him, almost sweetly. He is facing away from me and I reach around him, putting my hand on his chest. When he still doesn't respond, I slide my hand down to his cock and stroke it for a minute. I'm stunned by the contrast. Even when Chris was able to get hard, he was small compared to Steve. But now his small, floppy dick doesn't even feel like the same sort of organ as Steve's huge, hard cock. I stroke him just long enough to know that he has felt it and then let him go-rolling over with a frustrated sigh.

He rises to the bait. Rolling over, he starts to touch me. First it is gentle caressing, then he is openly examining me with his hands. Fine, let him feel the crustiness on my pubic hair; let him feel my slick, swollen lips. I'm betting that once he is confronted with the undeniable evidence that I have just been fucked, he'll be overwhelmed by his pathetic need to reclaim his territory. Since we both know he can't do it by fucking me himself, I'm betting I'll have him licking my sloppy cunt in a matter of minutes.

When his fingers slip over my wet mound, he pleads with me. "Do you have to do this?" he asks.

I explain that I have needs that haven't been satisfied since Rod left and, yes, I have to.

I guess I misunderstood his question. He clarifies: "Do you have to come home like this? Can't you clean up first?"

I could say so many things. I could defend myself, or dismiss his feelings, or promise (falsely) not to do it again. I realize, though, that I don't need to say anything. I just wait a minute and then press gently on his head, pushing him down to my crotch. He knows what I want and he knows he wants to do it. For all his rational mind tells him he would rather have me clean up before I come home, that's not what he really wants. Some more primitive part of him needs to see me this way-to clean me up, to satisfy me with his tongue while he drinks down my lovers' cum.

He is becoming a terrific cunt licker. He'll lick me anytime I want and do it however I want, as long as I want, until I'm completely satisfied. What a dramatic change from when licking my cunt "wasn't his thing." What I want from Chris now is for him to lick Steve's cum from my cunt while I replay the scene with Steve in my mind, climaxing when I get to the part where he cums in my mouth and all over my face.

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I got exactly what I wanted-something that had been happening almost all the time by then. Chris seemed to have adjusted to the situation. From time to time, there was the plaintive, "Do you have to do this?" or something like that, but in the end he always accepted his new role. It was the best he could do to make himself feel like a man. A man satisfies a woman. Most men do it differently, but this was the best Chris could do. And, I must say that I loved it. Not only did he try his hardest to drive me over the top, but the thought of him humiliating himself by lapping up my lovers' cum in order to do it thrilled me no end.

During this period of time, I started Chris on a new regimen. I decided that I liked the way he licked my cunt after my escapades with Steve so much that I wanted to reinforce that behavior. So, one time when I came home quite messy and in need of his tongue, I suggested something different. He was still dressed and, sweet thing, ready to dive between my legs and clean me up. But I suggested that he take off his clothes and stroke his cock while he licked me. He seemed reluctant, but I reminded him of the time we watched the movie and he got hard during a scene like that. Also, since we wouldn't even be trying to fuck (I was much too sore, I told him), there would be no pressure on him. If he got hard, that was fine. If he didn't, that was fine, too.

The mere hope, even though completely unsupported, of him getting hard led him to do it. Unknown to him, of course, I'd switched the lubricant in the nightstand for one with the transdermal Viagra in it. A few minutes stroking with this stuff and his cock will be bursting.

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He strips his clothes off. God, his penis looks small to me now. But I try to look at him appreciatively. I hand him the tube of lubricant from the nightstand and he squeezes a big glob onto his hand. Then he slathers it over his shriveled dick. I have to get him down doing his job quickly. It wouldn't do for him to start getting hard before he was licking Steve's cum from me.

"Now, lick me Chris," I urge. "Make me feel like no one else can." This is true enough-or, at least it is true that no one else does do this to me. I scootch down to the bottom of the bed, with my legs on the floor, so he can kneel at foot of the bed and have good access to my cunt (and Steve's cum). Before long, I can tell from the way his tongue is bobbing on my cunt that he is stroking himself furiously. This must mean that he is hard. When he's tried to stroke himself without being hard-at least when I've seen him-he strokes gently and slowly.

Suddenly, he stops and gets up. I realize that he is planning to enter me. I hadn't anticipated this. I'm tempted; it would feel nice knowing that his cock was sloshing around in Steve's cum. But I don't want to risk it. I have to act quickly.

"No. Don't try that now, honey. If you try and it doesn't work, it will just be that much harder for you to regain your confidence. Besides," I remind him, "I'm really sore right now."

With this, I push his head down between my legs again. "Just lick me for now. Give me a wonderful orgasm. And stroke yourself. Maybe you'll have an orgasm, too. Maybe I can help you."

He goes back to my plan. And my way of helping him is to talk dirty to him.

"Oh, God, your tongue feels so good to me."

"Suck his cum from my cunt. Lick it clean. Don't leave a bit of his spunk in me." He's licking furiously now and, I imagine, pounding his pud just as hard.

"Oh, it feels so good to me for you to lick his cum from my cunt." I pause. "It feels good to you, too. Doesn't it? You like licking me clean. You like the feeling of driving me crazy by sucking another man's cum from my cunt. You're hard, aren't you? This excites you, doesn't it? Oh, God, yes. Keep licking me. Keep stroking yourself. You can feel yourself starting to cum, can't you? You can feel your balls boiling. Doesn't it feel good?"

He's in a complete lather now. For the first time in months, he's hard and ready to spurt.

I say, again as if supporting him, "It doesn't matter if you can't fuck me. You drive me crazy with your tongue. And it gets you off, too. Do you like thinking about me fucking another guy? Do you like imagining his huge, hard cock thrusting in and out of my hungry cunt? Do you like imagining his hands all over my body? His mouth around my breasts? Do you imagine me sucking him until his magnificent tool is ready to take me-to make me his?"

All this time, I'm monitoring him-appraising his response. He is so happy to be hard and nearing an orgasm, I can say anything I want. He's not going to stop. I can tell he's getting close, so I start pushing him toward a finale.

"Oh, yes. Cum for me. Shoot your cum all over the floor. Explode for me while you suck his cum from me." With this, Chris stops licking me (which is too bad because I'm pretty hot myself, but still shy of an orgasm). He throws his head back and contorts his face as he spews his load on the floor.

When he's finished, he collapses on me-his head on my stomach. I pet him in a very condescending way, but one I hope he will interpret as supportive. I tell him he's a good boy. I tell him I hope he can come like that a lot more. I tell him I'll help him as much as I can. I don't know if he understands that I hope he can come exactly like that-and that's what I'll help him do.

It's clear he would like to crawl up and go to sleep. But I haven't had an orgasm yet. So, I push his head down to my clitoris again and get him started licking. I imagine his knees are in his own cum on the floor. I don't care. I want an orgasm and I get what I want.

When we are finished, I tell him to clean up the floor before it dries and I drift off to sleep before he's back in bed.

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Over the next few months, Steve and I fucked and sucked every night that we worked together. On a couple of occasions, we sneaked to the back while the store was still open-leaving the register to the new girl who worked part of the evenings. We would get a quicky: I would suck him or he would give me a fast fucking. The extra thrill was sneaking off and having to return as if nothing had happened. As often as possible, though, I made sure that we would fuck just before we left the store. That way, I would be "fresh" for Chris. And then I could reinforce Chris's training-or, as he saw it, help him get off.

After a few weeks of having these encounters at work only, I decided I knew Steve well enough to invite him into our home-into our marital bed to be exact. Steve was taking classes at the local junior college. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays, all of his classes were in the morning. He had three hours between his last class and when he had to go to the pharmacy. Chris was, of course, hard at work through this time. So, I invited Steve to come over one Tuesday for "lunch."

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It's a great time. As soon as Steve gets here, I take him back to our bedroom. I'm wearing only a negligee. I undress him slowly in front of the mirrored closet doors. This is delicious. I can take my time and enjoy uncovering Steve's hard young body.

He's hard from my undressing him, but I just tease him with my fingertips-and never on his cock. When he is completely naked, I slip out of my negligee and invite him out to the master bedroom's private deck. We eat a snack and have some wine in the hot tub. I'm sure it's the first time Steve has had fruit, cheese and wine for lunch-certainly in a hot tub. It's thrillingly naughty to be in this hot tub that Chris and I use-naked with this beautiful black stud. I love how he looks at me, with the intensity of youthful lust. I love it that his cock, even relaxed by the hot water, is thick and full. I love the way it responds to my slightest touch.

We don't stay in the tub for long. When we get out, I wrap him in Chris's robe. It's too small for Steve, of course, but I like the symbolism. We go into the bedroom and have the sweetest, most passionate love-making session we have ever had. As he lies on top of me, my eyes drink in his image. His muscles are hard and well defined. His shoulders are massive and his arms show his strength even as he caresses me gently.

I get the fucking of my life-cuming several times-and so does Steve. When it's time to go, he starts to clean up the bedroom. It's a mess with the sheets and pillows scattered and it reeks of sex. I tell him to leave things as they are-that Chris will clean up later. I've left Chris a list of things to do when he gets home and cleaning up the master bedroom is one of them. Chris will be surprised when he sees the list; the bedroom was clean when he went to work this morning. But when he sees the bedroom, he'll understand. (I specifically tell him not to wash the sheets, though. I'm looking forward to sleeping on them tonight.)

Steve can't believe that Chris will do this. Steve doesn't understand what you can do with a man after you've completely emasculated him. I do.

I ride to work with Steve. I've wanted to do this for a while. It means that he will take me home. I remember the night I returned to Chris with Rod's cum in my mouth and I want to do this with Steve's cum.

Steve and I don't do anything at work except flirt and grope a little. Chris calls me wanting to express his manly outrage about my inviting my lovers into his bedroom. I tell him we'll discuss it when I get home and hang up. I'll see how manly he feels when he's reduced to drinking Steve's cum from my mouth.

As Steve drives me home, I stroke his cock the entire way-first through his pants then, after wrestling the monster out, directly. By the time we are getting into my neighborhood, I've got him in my mouth and he's having trouble concentrating on his driving. While I was sucking Steve toward an orgasm, I had such a strong desire to fuck him that I almost switched plans. But I reminded myself how much fun it would be to feed Steve's cum from my mouth to Chris's.

As soon as Steve begins cumming, I realize that there never was any chance that I could hold his entire load in my mouth. He just cums too much for that. But I am able to hold the last few spurts in my mouth. I just nod good-bye to him; he knows what I'm doing and, by this time, he likes the idea of Chris cleaning up his unfaithful wife of her lovers' cum.

I run in. It's hard not to swallow with something in your mouth. It's especially hard, I realize now, to hold a mouthful of cum. I wonder why that is. I can't figure it out. But it doesn't matter. It's worth doing, and I do it.

Chris, as usual, is pretending to be asleep. I strip down very quickly and climb into bed next to him naked. He gives up the pretense. He rolls over and starts to talk to me, very sincerely, about my having my lovers in our bedroom. I don't say anything (of course). I just pull his face to mine and kiss him-closed-mouth at first, but slowly opening to give him my creamy surprise. He struggles but I have one hand down on his limp penis now and he is reminded of his inabilities to satisfy me the way a man should.