Long Island Cuckold Ch. 13
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Thank you Scott for taking the time to edit this. I know it took time and patience and I appreciate it.
Even with relaxing the afternoon and evening after the party at the Hilton, I was a dummy for not taking off that Monday. That morning while Donna laid sleeping, I dragged myself from the bed and got ready for work.
That day sticks in my mind. I remember having a heavy day of client meetings. I had prepared beforehand and was the one facilitating the meetings. It was a productive but draining day on a day that I really didn’t have much energy to push forward and get things done. However, push forward I did.
After work, at 6pm I was at the dojo. I put in a full workout and taught a class. While sparring with Jose, I’d lost whatever edge I had since our last sparring session, and he really kicked my butt. I was off but still worked hard. Jose didn’t comment, but he knew I was mentally there but just out of gas.
When I got home, it was about 8:30pm. I came into my office through the garage, as was my habit. I was done with work for the day, so I put my laptop and bag by my desk and stripped off my clothes, folding them neatly into a pile with my shoes on the bottom. Carrying the pile of clothes, I stopped right at the office door and listened. I was in the habit of doing this to make sure I wasn’t walking through the house naked with unexpected people there.
I didn’t hear anything, so I walked into the main part of the house and left the clothes on the steps heading upstairs to the bedrooms. I would grab them on the way up.
Donna was in the den. She heard me and told me that there was grilled chicken and salad in the kitchen. I went in the den to kiss her hello, then to the kitchen to eat. After eating I joined Donna on the couch in the den and we watched TV together. She put her feet on my lap, and I gave her a foot massage. When she was satisfied with the massage, she raised them one at a time to my face and I licked, sucked, and worshipped them. I had always given her pretty feet massages when we sat together, but since embracing the FLR lifestyle, worshipping them has become part of it as well. I had no objections at all to this.
While watching TV, she would often use one foot play with my balls and cause me discomfort in the CB-3000 while I was licking, kissing, and sucking the other foot and toes. She would continue to watch TV, but I would miss quite a bit of the programs.
For the next two weeks or so our life was in this routine. We would make love, with me going down on her. We spent quiet time together and sex wasn’t the main focus of our lives, although there was an underlying thread of FLR which we both enjoyed.
Donna was talking about having Beth and Mark over during the weekend and thought it would be good if I grilled dinner. This wasn’t a swinger’s dinner, she said, just friends getting together for the evening. Then I found out she was also inviting Darryl and Jackie.
I was fine with this, but it led to some fun times in the bedroom with Donna telling me how big Darryl was, and how turned on she was by having sex with a black man for the first time. She shared with me the details of how he had her rim him, how hard it was to take him into her mouth, and how painful anal sex was with him. She had to allow her body time to adjust in order just to get him in vaginally. He was about 9 or 9.5″ and relatively thick.
I think I was probably looking for some solace when I said to her, “I thought you said that size wasn’t everything. How a man kisses, gives oral, and not just the size, but the way he fucks matters.”
Donna wasn’t giving me any ground and replied, “That is all true. But Darryl is a great kisser, and honestly, he knows how to fuck much better than you. His strokes send me through the roof. You’re good at oral sex, but every time his tongue touched me, I quivered.”
I was certainly feeling put down, but turned on at the same time. She orgasmed twice in my mouth while we spoke about her sexual encounters with Darryl at the Hilton, and as before I had no complaints.
We ended up snuggling in bed, then drifting off to sleep. This was all becoming quite normal for us. When I awoke, I was facing Donna on our king-sized bed. She was sleeping half an arm’s length away. I marveled at how pretty and innocent she looked while she slept, while thinking about all the things that we had been getting into and that she seemed to have no guilt or remorse, but at the same time no lack of love for me.
We both had a busy day and I got home about 7pm that evening. I entered through the garage, stripped, and listened at the door. Donna had heard me come in and called to me that she was just putting dinner out on the table. I deposited my clothes on the staircase and went into the kitchen.
Donna had just finished putting everything on the table as I entered the kitchen. We kissed hello. It’s always a little awkward being naked and in the CB-3000 while Donna is kaçak iddaa dressed normally. Which is the whole point of it, I guess. We stood close after our kiss and Donna asked about my day.
I briefly summarized the boring details of the internal and client meetings, the new corporate client we landed, and the upcoming court dates we were preparing for. While listening, Donna caressed my balls gently and smiled at me. When my dick started growing from her touch and began pushing against the CB-3000 and it’s “Points of Intrigue”, she switched to pinching my nipples between her fingernails. I was enjoying the attention, but it had me squirming a bit.
Donna then smacked me on the ass. It wasn’t a love tap. It was playful but it stung, and I’m sure it left a handprint. She said, “Let’s sit and eat.”
During dinner we talked about family for a bit, then Donna brought up her plans for having Mark, Beth, Darryl, and Jackie over, and the plans for our dinner that evening. We had a good butcher in the area, and I’d be grilling some kabobs, steak, and chicken. Donna would be making everything else. She seemed happy and I was too. Everyone coming over were good people. Besides the sexual activities, we enjoyed their company. Donna told me again that this was not a swinger type thing, but just a normal dinner get-together between friends, and that I would be clothed. The look on her face (and probably mine too) was amusement over the fact that it had to be implicitly stated that I would be wearing clothes when our friends came over.
Donna extended her leg under the kitchen table to rest her foot on my chair. Her toes were in perfect position to play with my balls. When she first made contact I involuntarily jumped back a little in the chair. It was just a reaction, but it took my balls away from her.
Donna looked at me and demanded sharply, “Don’t move back. Put your balls back on my foot.”
I did, and she began to play with my balls and cage with her toes. I tease her at times that she can use her toes like “monkey fingers” – picking up pencils and things like that. She put those skills to work on me now, but just playing, not inflicting pain.
Donna looked at me and asked, “When I’m with a man and we’re having sex, what would you like to be doing? Do you want to watch? Join in in some way? In the way of a man who can’t get an erection and craves cock more than he does his own wife? Tied up in a chair watching? Maybe tied up and gagged under the bed? Doing something else?”
She wasn’t smiling. She was just looking at me and casually finishing her glass of wine while she asked. I wasn’t sure if she was just teasing me. Well, I was sure she was teasing me but I wasn’t sure where this was heading. I was at a loss for words and didn’t say anything.
She mashed my balls with her toes and said, “Mikey? Answer me.”
I told her, “The important thing is that you’re happy and getting what you want. I think what I’m doing isn’t important other than it’s what you want me to be doing. If you’d like me to watch or be involved in some way and that brings you pleasure, you know I’ll do anything. If you want to be alone with the guy, I’ll leave.”
She said, “Hmmmm…. Good answer, but that really wasn’t what I was asking. I was asking what you wanted. Perhaps the reason you can’t answer the question is the same reason other men are better at sex than you. That’s okay.”
She smiled and patted my balls playfully with her toes for a few moments. Then she stood and walked around the table to me. Bending over, she kissed me deeply. We ended up with her on my lap, making out like teenagers for a while. She picked up my nearly empty wine glass and handed it to me. “Drink up, she instructed. I drank down the last swallow.
She stood up from my lap and grabbed my hand that still held the wine glass. With her free hand she raised the front of her skirt so we both could see she wasn’t wearing panties. Moving my hand holding the wine glass she had me place it between her legs, directly under her pussy. Then she peed, carefully filling the wine glass. “Don’t you dare let any spill,” she warned. Then she carefully moved my hand so the full wine glass was just under my nose and said, “Hold it there. Smell the bouquet.” With a chuckle, she padded off to the bathroom. No doubt she needed to finish peeing.
When she came back, Donna sat down and refilled her own wine glass. Looking at me holding my own glass she said, “I didn’t congratulate you on your new client. Cheers!”
She clinked her glass on mine and said, “Take a sip only.”
I took a sip from the glass and tasted Donna’s urine. I smiled and put the glass down again as she put hers down.
She asked me if I liked the taste of it.
I replied, “Yes Ma’am. I love it. It’s from you. I find it extremely intimate. I feel very connected when you allow me to drink it. It turns me on to drink your urine.”
Donna wasn’t smiling, she had more of a look like she was going to moan kaçak bahis and said, “That is hot, Mike. Watching you drink my piss is both a turn on for me and it makes me think I married a pig of a husband.”
She raised her glass and took a sip. I did the same, taking a bigger sip than my first.
As we both just kind of reveled in each other’s company, each deeply into our own perverted thoughts, we drank the rest of our glasses. When we were done, Donna stood up and said, “Mike, would you clean up the kitchen?”
I got up and said, “Yes, Ma’am. Of course.”
She grabbed me and kissed me deeply again. She finished by licking my lips and then said, “Not bad piss-boy.”
Continuing to hold me she said, “Ted is coming over at 9pm. Make sure everything is cleaned up by then. I’m going to take a shower. When he gets here, answer the door as you are and offer him a drink before directing him to my bedroom.”
Donna kissed me some more, running her hands through my hair.
She continued, “He’s going to bring his laundry. Take it from him and make sure that when he leaves his clothes are washed, dried, and ironed. If you have time, see what you can do about cleaning his beat up car. At least clean the inside of it. Would that turn you on? To do that while your wife has sex with him?”
I said, “Yes Ma’am.”
Donna kissed me some more and said, ‘I married such a pathetic, limp dicked, piss-boy faggot. I’m a very lucky woman.” Taking my hand, she put it under her skirt. She was soaking wet. She looked me in the eye and asked, “Do you think I’m this way because of you or Ted?”
I answered, “I think it must be thinking about Ted and the sex you’re going to have with him.”
She kissed me deeply for a minute then broke the kiss to tell me with love in her voice, “Silly boy. You make me hot. You make me wet.” She pushed me down onto my knees and said, “Taste”.
I drove my tongue into her wet bush and pussy. After a minute or so she gasped and bucked her hips, starting to ride my face. Then she paused and pushed my head away, saying with a giggle, “I said ‘taste’, not ‘eat’, but you’re so fucking hot. Here Mike, drink.”
I opened my mouth and she pissed again into my mouth. I swallowed fast and she must have really had to pee again because it was much more than a glass full.
Not a drop escaped.
When she was done urinating, she pulled me up and kissed me deeply again. She smacked her lips as she tasted her own urine on my mouth. She licked my lips and said, “I love you. You turn me on, and you want to humiliate yourself for me, and that turns me on even more. I am going to have sex with Ted while you do your chores. He may be spending the night.”
Then she turned around and went upstairs to the bedroom. I got busy cleaning the kitchen. I’ve always been a bit of Felix Unger. Not that Donna is an Oscar Madison by any means. (For any non-Americans reading this, there was a TV show called The Odd Couple — two roommates; Felix is the neat one, Oscar is messy). When cleaning, I get into kind of a Zen-like state and let my mind wonder. Kind of like when people say they come up with ideas in the shower. I’ve come up with many ideas while cleaning. It would seem I would have plenty of time for idea generation tonight, with cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, and then cleaning Ted’s car.
I didn’t have a heavy schedule at work the next day, but I did have a few things to do. I was a little concerned about tonight’s activities. Not just from a jealousy standpoint, because that did still exist for me. Even though I’d now seen my wife with multiple men and I’m in fulltime chastity, I still get the feelings of jealousy. It’s a mixture of the feeling of Donna being with someone else (which I can’t seem to articulate well) and the humiliation. And the humiliation was becoming an addiction for me.
As I was finishing the kitchen the doorbell rang. Caught up in my thoughts and busy with the cleanup, I quickly just walked to the door and opened it. As the door swung open it occurred to me that I hadn’t checked first who was at the door – I was naked and in chastity. I might be able to explain my nakedness in my own home, but the chastity would require no explanation at all. I was in luck. It was Ted.
We said hello to each other, and I quickly let him in. Ted is a skinny kid about my height, and was obviously feeling a bit awkward with having a naked man standing in front of him. I was feeling a bit awkward myself. He handed me his laundry bag. It was full, and I politely thanked him for it.
We were standing in the vestibule area by our front door. I ushered him into the den and asked him if he would like a drink.
Ted stumblingly said, “Uh, yeah, sure. A beer would be great.”
Before I turned to get him a beer, I asked for his car keys so I could clean his car. He handed them over and told me he parked in the driveway. I thanked him again.
There really is no street parking in our neighborhood. The house illegal bahis has hedges around it, so there is a bit of privacy even in the driveway. I was thankful for that. I was also thankful that the only car that was in the garage was the Corvette. I had parked the TrailBlazer behind Donna’s BMW. So, I should be able to zip Ted’s car into the garage without the neighbors seeing me. There is only an angle or two that a passerby would have any chance to catch a glimpse of me.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a Yeungling from the refrigerator and flipped the top. I also poured some of the wine that remained into a glass for Donna and brought the drinks out to Ted.
Ted was standing in the den, still obviously uncomfortable, and was looking at some of our family pictures. I realized that I should take down the pictures of our daughters when we entertain Donna’s boyfriends. I handed him the two glasses and told him, “Donna is in the bedroom, if you remember the way. I’ll put a couple of bottles of water outside the door in case you guys get thirsty. Enjoy yourselves.”
Ted took the glasses, half smiled, and said “Thanks.” Then he turned and walked off to the bedroom to fuck my wife.
I stood there for a moment; alone, naked, wearing a chastity device, standing in the middle of our den. I had just sent a college kid up to our bedroom to have sex with my wife. In the bed we sleep in as man and wife. I was holding his car keys so I can clean his car, and there was a bag of his dirty laundry in front of me. For having sex with my wife, I was going to do these things for him.
The only way I can explain this is that I was reveling in the humiliation. This isn’t what a man does. What would my family, friends, or co-workers think of me? They would obviously be disgusted and think I was a fag. I was. I was addicted to the humiliation. I was also in love with my wife. More and more I was in love with my wife.
I looked at my pathetic dick locked up and thought that she deserved to have better sex and I should be thankful for this. Then I realized: I should be thankful, and to thank both Donna and Ted, I needed to get to work quickly.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. I quietly went up to the bedroom. The door was closed, and I put the water bottles right outside the door where they wouldn’t trip over them if they walked out, but where they were visible. Then I went back to the den.
I took the clothes to the laundry room and sorted through them. They were mostly underwear, jeans, and tee shirts. I put the whites into the washing machine and started the laundry.
Then I grabbed Ted’s car keys and went out to the garage. I carefully checked to make sure the coast was clear, then scurried down the driveway to the driver’s side door of Ted’s car. It wasn’t until I reached to open the door that it occurred to me that I would have been much less conspicuous if I’d thought to turn off the driveway motion-detector floodlights before walking out there – I was lit up like Broadway. I just shook my head and hopped in Ted’s car, then drove into the garage and closed the door behind me.
I got out of the car and grabbed a detail kit I used on our cars when I was inclined to clean them, and I brought the vacuum cleaner over. He had a 5-year-old Chevy Malibu. It was filthy, but it really wasn’t that bad of a car. I’m guessing it was a gift from his parents. It wasn’t an old clunker or beater, especially for a college kid.
I started by cleaning out all the garbage in the car. He had fast food bags and even a few empty bottles. I collected the stuff in his car that I thought he would want to keep. I had an organizer I wasn’t using, so I put it in there so he could keep things neat going forward.
I used Armor All on the vinyl and made things clean – made them shine. I cleaned the windows. Before I was starting to vacuum, I ran to the laundry room to put the first load in the dryer and put in the second load into the washer.
I then went back and vacuumed the car. There were a couple of tough spots on the carpet, so I used carpet cleaner and got them cleaned.
I was pretty much done cleaning the inside when the I needed to go back to the laundry room. I emptied the first load from the dryer and loaded the second load. Then I ironed everything, except for his socks, and folded it all. I figured that if you make love to my wife, you should have everything pressed neatly.
When I was finished with the ironing and folding and waiting for the second load to finish in the dryer, I went back to the garage. I double-checked the inside of the car. It looked like a completely different car. It was clean and shiny, and the things inside were organized. But the outside was filthy and that didn’t look right.
It was approaching midnight now and I looked outside. This time I killed the lights to the front of the house, and I went through the house and turned off any lights that provided any light into the front yard. I wanted to make it as dark as possible out there. Then, with the inside garage light off, I opened the garage door and drove the Malibu onto the driveway with its lights off.
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