Better Licking through Chemistry

In the morning, I woke to the smell of freshly ground coffee brewing. Chris was working in the kitchen making the breakfast that I had ordered. I got up to unlock the bedroom door and put another note on the outside of the door: Chris's final instructions before entering our bedroom to serve breakfast to me and my black, 18-year old lover. Then I crawled back in bed with Steve, who was just beginning to stir-though part of him had been stirring earlier, in his sleep. I waited anxiously to see if Chris would follow his instructions.

==========================

So, as I lie in my marital bed, reeking of the smell of sex (both me and the bed), gently stroking the hard cock of my young lover, I watch the door with child-like anticipation. Will Chris really serve Steve and me breakfast? Will he follow my instructions to do it completely naked? This will be really humiliating for Chris. With the dose of anti-Viagra I've been giving him, his dick will be limp and tiny. It will be pure humiliation for Chris to stand naked in front of a man-a much younger and clearly much better endowed man-who is cuckolding him in his own bed and serve him, exposing his own wilted, pathetic penis.

Soon, though, there's a knock on the door and, after I answer, Chris swings the door open and I see him standing there, completely naked-his dick almost completely hidden by his pubic hair-holding a tray with our breakfast. Chris is stunned when he looks over to the bed. He had no idea that my lover was black-nor, for that matter, that he was a teenager, but I think it is Steve's race that throws Chris. For a moment, I fear he is going to turn and walk away. I tell him to bring the tray over to the bed and, after only a moment's hesitation, Chris turns his eyes downward and walks to the bed.

"Steve," I say with an air of nonchalance that is incongruous with the moment, "this is my husband, Chris. Chris, my lover, Steve."

Steve says 'hello' but Chris can't bring himself to reply.

"I hope we didn't keep you up too late last night. I know we were a little noisy." I try to keep a tone of genuine concern (or at least simulated genuine concern) in my voice. "I'm sorry if we made it hard for you to sleep."

Chris still says nothing. Having sets the tray down, he looks especially awkward standing there naked, wanting desperately to be covered but wanting even more not to look ridiculous by covering himself with his hands.

I tell Chris to sit in the chair and wait while we eat in case we need something. He'd rather leave of course. He would probably rather die. But sitting at least allows him to hide his shame and he does it. I make a show of eating breakfast with Steve. I feed him and whisper to him, sometimes giggling like a school girl. When I catch a glimpse of Chris, he is usually watching stoically. A few times I reach under the sheet to stroke Steve's hard cock. I raise my eyebrows and smile at Steve appreciatively, sometimes sighing when I do that. I'm pretty sure Chris can get a hint of the size of Steve's manhood under the sheet. As we finish up breakfast with Steve pushing chocolate-dipped strawberries into my mouth as I stroke his cock and moan. I allow myself to get visibly hot and bothered and both Steve and I are rocking our hips back and forth. Now it's time to dismiss Chris. I send him to the kitchen to clean up the breakfast dishes and tell him to wait outside the door for me to call him back to clean up in here. I'll just let him worry a bit about what cleaning up in here amounts to. I've already decided that it's time to ratchet up the level of cuckoldry yet another notch.

Chris leaves quickly-I think before he gets a chance to think about what I mean by cleaning up in here. That's okay. He has time to think it through while he is cleaning up in the kitchen.

All this stroking of Steve's cock has made us both quite horny. Openly cuckolding Chris added to the excitement, too. As a result neither Steve nor I need any more stimulation to be ready to fuck. But I'm really hungry to feel Steve's cock in my mouth. I don't want to bring him off that way right now. I just want to feel him fill my mouth with his ebony rod. I want to feel the hardness and the heat. I want to smell his musky odor and taste his salty pre-cum. So I slide down under the sheets and suck him gently but insistently, like a calf at a teat.

This is extremely pleasurable, as well as kind of frustrating, for both of us. Finally, when frustration overcomes the pleasure, I crawl up and ask him to fuck me with his beautiful hard shaft. We have great sex-I'm sure Chris can hear it even over the dishwasher in the kitchen. After Steve shoots me full of his cream, we lie there for a long time. He is still on top of me, still inside of me. Our breathing subsides and we both sort of float in post-coital bliss for a few minutes.

Then a remarkable thing happens. I feel Steve's hips beginning to move again and am suddenly aware that his cock has swollen once more and he's beginning to piston in and out of me. This has never happened to me before. Steve's often a more than one-shot guy. But this time he didn't even slide out of me before getting hard again. And he's not just hard. He's hot. I can see in his eyes that he is filled with lust. I think the cuckoldry has been as exciting for him as for me.

This time it takes a little longer for both of us to have an orgasm. I'm sure that Chris is waiting outside the door by the time we finish, giving him yet another opportunity to hear me being satisfied in a way that he never could, even when he could function normally. He can't even dream about doing so now.

When we're finished and our breathing has settled down a little, I call out for Chris to come in, while I pull myself up so I'm sitting back against the headboard. Chris comes in dressed in Levis and a t-shirt and walks toward the bed. I give him a disappointed look and tell him he looked better before. He mumbles something about having to clean up in the kitchen and people being able to see in the kitchen from the street. So I tell him that now he's in the privacy of his own bedroom (emphasizing 'own') and tell him to take his clothes off. Chris complies, albeit reluctantly, and once again he is standing by the bed looking pitiably small and weak. Steve pulls himself up to a sitting position too and looks at Chris. The sheets are now down at Steve's thighs and his cock, soft but full and still wet with our juices, is fully exposed to Chris's view. I can see Chris's face flush with redness. The comparison is obvious: in size, in ability, and most definitely in recent history.

"I'm a mess, Chris," I say, almost as if it is a surprise. "I really need to be cleaned up."

Chris looks at me and then over to Steve again, then back to me. I know what he is asking but I wait for a while as if I don't get it. Then, I say cheerfully, "Oh...That's okay. Steve's knows all about it and he's fine with it."

Of course, it wasn't Steve's feelings that Chris was concerned about but I don't even address Chris's feelings. I kick down the sheet and spread my legs for him to see my red, swollen vulva covered with crusty cum. I know what the outcome is going to be. The decision has already been made by Chris's subconscious. I'm just waiting now for the message to get to his muscles. After a long pause, Chris leans down and begins to crawl onto the bed, between my legs. I stop him and remind him to get the lubricant. It's clear he doesn't want to do that. This may be the one time that his hatred of humiliation was close to getting the better of his lust for sexual release. The idea of masturbating in front of my lover while he eats my lover's cum from my cunt is a bit much for Chris to adjust to. But I had told him to get the lubricant and he is resolved to be compliant. He knows that it is not just this one moment of release that hinges on his compliance.

As he gets back up, his little thing swings freely between his legs. It's kind of cute, I think. Chris gets the lubricant which is, of course, loaded with the transdermal Viagra. He crawls back on to the bed and positions himself between my legs. He slathers the lubricant on his right hand and begins stroking his cock as he lowers his mouth to my mound. As his lips draw close to my lower lips, I bring Steve's mouth to mine. When Chris's tongue touches my clitoris, mine plunges into Steve's mouth.

This is all extremely exciting for me. Kissing my lover passionately in front of my husband while my husband eats my lover's cum from my sloppy slit is a uniquely satisfying experience. I moan loudly and writhe with very real pleasure. Chris's ministrations bring me to a series of small orgasms followed by an incredibly intense orgasm that leaves me shaking and speechless. After the crashing orgasm, I'm much too sensitive for him to touch me there. I push him away not even realizing that he hadn't cum yet. Not that that would have made any difference, of course. But I really don't realize that he is still frustrated until I open my eyes and see him pumping his hard penis and looking down at me with a burning desire.

Chris begins to lean down toward me. He's planning to enter me, I can tell. I don't want that. I don't want him to be able to enter me; that's bad for his training-training I had worked so hard to reinforce. And I didn't want him to be able to "reclaim" his territory, especially right in front of Steve. I stop him, complaining that I'm too sore. I lean up to him and whisper-quietly enough that I can maintain that I'm trying not to let Steve hear but loudly enough that Chris knows that Steve does hear-"And, you know it wouldn't work anyway, Honey. You can't stay hard that way."

Chris sputters something but I ignore him. Then, I'm ready to propose my bright idea for Chris to find relief.

"Do you trust me, Honey?" I ask. What can he say? He says he does.

"Okay. Just close your eyes and trust me. I'll help you if you just relax and trust me."

Chris closes his eyes. Why he trusts me, I'll never understand. I guess a guy will do anything to get his rocks off. Come to think of is, I'll do pretty much to get my rocks off, too. But I don't let others control me.

I get up on my knees next to Chris, smiling and winking to Steve. I put my hand gently around his penis, moving his away. Chris moans softly with the pleasure of my touch. I haven't touched him when he was hard for a very long time. He opens his eyes and turns toward me. For a moment, I think he is going to kiss me-and do it lovingly. But I stop him and tell him that he promised to keep his eyes shut and trust me.

I lean over and get more of the Viagra-laced lubricant on my hands. I want him very hard and sensitive. I begin stroking his cock in long, slow, loving strokes. When I'm sure he has begun a gradual ascent to an orgasm, I begin pushing his head down. He can tell by the angle I'm pushing it at what I'm doing. He resists. I insist. My stroking on his cock is so pleasurable after his long, enforced abstinence that he yields and lets me push his mouth down onto Steve's cock.

Steve's cock is no longer slick and shiny. Our juices have dried on him, his cock is crusty and his pubic hair is matted with our cum. But the wetness of Chris's mouth dissolves the dried cum and Steve's cock becomes slick and shiny again. Chris's eyes are closed, but his mouth is opened wide to accommodate Steve, who, even when soft is more than a mouthful. I'm careful to keep pumping Chris's cock. I want to keep him aroused enough that he doesn't even think about stopping what he is doing and I want to take him to the next level of his cuckoldry training. He has to associate his pleasure not only with mine but with the pleasure of my lovers. He has to be as ready to give them pleasure as he is ready to give me pleasure.

Chris gets over the reluctance after only a few minutes. He takes the base of Steve's cock in his hand and begins to pump it as I pump Chris's cock. Of course, there is still some transdermal Viagra on Chris's hand and this gives Steve a boost, though I'm not sure he needed one. Chris finds Steve hardening fully in his mouth and struggles to accommodate him. It's difficult, but he is also aroused by all that his happening. He has realized that my massaging of his own cock is tied to his actions on Steve's cock. The faster and deeper Chris moves his lips on Steve's now fully rigid rod, the faster and harder I pump Chris's cock.

I can feel Chris begin to near an orgasm. I take my hand away and begin to shake it like I have gotten a cramp or something. To his clearly audible moan of frustration, I tell him I'm sorry. Then I guide his own right hand to his cock and move his left hand to the base of Steve's. I move his two hands so they move in unison. Chris gets the message and pulls his pecker to the same rhythm as he strokes Steve's into his mouth.

Then I slide my hand around to Chris's ass and press my wet finger onto his asshole. Chris always loved a little ass play when he was nearing an orgasm. He hasn't had it for a very long time, but he obviously still likes it. He moans a little and pushes his hips back to try to force my finger into his ass. And he quickens his pace on both cocks. I quickly shoot a little more lubricant on my finger and then, just when I think both guys are about to explode, I push my finger into Chris's ass. I press for the target and, finding it, massage his prostate as he ejaculates. I force him to cum more, and more forcefully, than he has ever done before. Jet after jet splatters on the sheets. At the same time, I hear-and feel-Chris gag a bit as Steve fills Chris's mouth with his first taste of cum from the source. Finally, after all these months of eating Rod's and then Steve's and then numerous other men's cum from my cunt, Chris is getting it straight from the cock. I can tell that the quantity and the force surprise him. Some leaks back down Steve's mast but Chris manages to swallow most of it.

When both men are spent, I continue to massage Chris's asshole gently. I'm not trying to arouse him now-just get him to enjoy the sensation of the inside of his ass being massaged. He is in such a state of nirvana, that he's moaning softly as I gently fuck his ass with my finger.

Finally I stop and get up. We're finished for now. I tell Chris to clean up the bedroom and get the sheets in the wash while Steve and I shower. Chris can shower after that. In the shower, Steve and I talk about what happened. Steve had never had his cock touched, much less sucked, by a man. As an 18-year old, I think he is a little concerned about having gotten aroused. I reassure him that the arousal wasn't any symptom of homosexual tendencies. It all had to do with feelings of dominance. He showed that he was the dominant man by having my husband service him like a woman would do. Steve seems more than fine with that and he even asks if we are going to do it again sometime. You bet we will.

==========================

After this marvelous incident, I softened toward Chris for his attempt to explore the pleasures of pimping his wife. We got back to a fairly regular routine of him getting off as he cleaned me up two or three times a week. He took to his subliminal training well. I don't think he even thought about entering me, he was so convinced that he couldn't get an erection for that. Chris took over most of the housework. It seemed more fitting that way and, besides, I was a busy little beaver with other tasks-such as "cum procurement" to satisfy his desires.

After some time, he proposed that we go back to him finding partners for me but, he assured me, he wouldn't charge the men. He just liked being involved with the process. I told him that I might consider it but before we got to that point he would have a little making up to do. He was concerned, thinking he had already done his penance. But I had further acts of atonement in mind.

I told him that the first new date he had to arrange with me was with Cliff, the guy he had played the pimp with. Chris protested that he didn't know how to get in touch with Cliff. But I held fast. That was his problem. If he wanted to get back to setting up my dates, he could spend a little time and effort finding Cliff.

For Chris, it was back to the dive where he had first met Cliff. I understand he didn't run into him there and had to track him down by talking with other patrons. Finally, though, he had a number to call. But at that point he was stymied; he didn't know what to say to Cliff. Why would Cliff do something to accommodate Chris when Chris had sold Cliff something that wasn't his to sell. Chris had finally given Cliff back the money, but not before Cliff had threatened to beat him up.

Fortunately, I was there to help Chris find the right words to assuage Cliff's anger and entice him to comply. Chris called Cliff and told him that he felt bad about what he had done and that he had talked with me about it. I had confessed to feeling a little flattered that someone had paid $200 for me and we decided to work out a little sexual "no hard feelings" gift to smooth things over. Cliff was finally convinced and a date was set for Saturday night.

I'm not sure whether Chris thought that all he would have to do for penance is to set up the date with Cliff. If so, he was in for a sore surprise. I had much more in mind. Chris got a hint that there was to be more when I told him that I would be counting on is complete, willing compliance all through the night. I had never made such a demand on him before so he knew something was up. He just didn't know what. When Saturday night finally rolled around, I had everything planned.

==========================

Cliff knocks on the door promptly at 8:30. I'm upstairs finishing getting ready. It's best to let a gentleman (or any other kind of man) wait a bit, I figure. Chris answers the door. I can hear them talking downstairs, but I can't make out the words. Chris has been instructed to get Cliff a drink but to keep him downstairs until I come down. I'm sure Chris is more uncomfortable than he usually is in such situations. But he's going to get even more uncomfortable. Tonight, the humiliation will exceed his greatest fears.

When I come down the stairs, all I'm wearing is a very short, simple black dress with very high heels to match. The dress is shear and clings to my curves except at the bottom where it flares out invitingly. I am positively edible, as Chris will prove later.

Pleasantries are exchanged, but not for long. I don't care much to chitchat with Cliff and Cliff is, after all, a man waiting for sex. Chris's desires don't count. When I have Cliff sitting on the couch next to me and Chris sitting on the chair opposite us, I begin to explain some of the situation to Cliff. Most of the explaining will be done by Chris, though, as he is about to find out.

"I'm afraid there was a very serious misunderstanding last time we were together," I begin. "I think you might have left angry and, I can assure you that I was angry, too." I put my hand on Cliff's thigh and go on. "Chris and I have talked about the incident and we want to patch things up-make you feel better about the incident. But there are some background things you need to know."

I pause, waiting for Cliff to wonder what these might be.

"Why would a man set up dates for his wife? I know Chris tried to charge you, but the money wasn't the reason. We have plenty of money and, besides, Chris has set me up with lots of men for free. So, did you ever think about why a man would do this?"

Cliff clearly had never given that a thought and he doesn't come up with anything to say on the spot. As long as he was going to get some booty out of it, he didn't care why Chris was doing it.

"Well, there's a reason," I continue. "Isn't there, Chris?"