© Copyright 2006 - Wiccedwoman - Used by permission
Storycodes: MM/f; M/f; F/m; bond; oral; massage; cons; X
Chapter 6 - Decadence
Dave poured me the same sweet drink I’d enjoyed the day before.
I loved the engulfing warmth as I sipped it. I loved the way it relaxed me. I sat down beside him on the sofa.
His hand rested on my thigh and he looked into my eyes. “This is our little secret Kristin,” he said gravely, “Other people wouldn’t understand.”
I knew that, knew people would be outraged. I was supposed to be an innocent little schoolgirl, all pure and asexual. Good little girls didn’t dream about a large rampant phallus, or several, poised to take them on a journey of erotic decadence. I was obviously a very, very bad girl.
Dave focussed on me totally – loosening me, easing me, making me laugh. He was interested in everything I said. He took me seriously. His manner was extremely seductive – enticing me into his life, his reality. Eventually, soft lips found mine again, turning my body into a willing jelly - then I looked up for a brief second.
Mike had silently entered the room. He was sitting in an armchair opposite us. He gazed at me intently.
Then, nodding in Mike’s direction, Dave guided me to the bedroom - totally confident of my acquiescence.
My palms were damp and my heart was pounding.
Dave relished removing each piece of my clothing, momentarily suckling on one of my erect nipples as he did so.
I stood there naked, the Goddess of temptation embodied. In that time and place I was the only object that existed – at least, as far a Dave and Mike were concerned.
My heart was pounding even harder now and the small red bud between my legs throbbed expectantly. I stood still, unmoving, as the men quickly undressed themselves. Their eyes never left me. Both cocks were fully erect. I remember the first sight of Mike’s bulging penis with a small bead of stickiness just beginning to ooze from the tip.
Dave took control. “Have you ever sucked a man off Kristin?” He asked, tipping my chin and looking into my eyes.
“Well then sweetheart, I think you need to learn,” Dave murmured the words at me with obvious enjoyment. He was savouring his role as my teacher. He guided me over to a large armchair in the corner of the bedroom and sat in it like an expectant King. “Kneel here between my legs Kristin. This is your first lesson.” Dave’s lecherous statement sent sparks of fear and pleasure through me at the same time.
Like a supplicant kneeling before him, I did as Dave asked, grasping the swaying crimson phallus and guiding it into my mouth. It was warm and dry and tasted slightly salty. A very faint musky aroma emanated from the soft down in his groin.
Dave writhed a little at the first touch of my lips and ran his hands through my hair. “Yeah Kristin – that’s right, that’s right. Just keep on doing that. Pretend it’s a lollipop – a very sweet lollipop that you can’t stop sucking and licking.”
His words were inspirational. That’s exactly what I did. Very soon I was into an easy, enjoyable rhythm – my hand tightly wrapped around his stiff shaft while my mouth and tongue busily attended to the straining, urgent needs of the bulging tip.
Dave’s writhing became more pronounced and his fingers dug into my shoulders.
I was concentrating entirely on the new experience before me, which is why what happened next came as such a shock. First, I suddenly felt strong, insistent hands firmly grip my waist from behind. Then Mike - equally suddenly - pushed his entire length completely inside my wet pussy. I heard his loud groan as he luxuriated in the sensation of his hard erection being totally squeezed in the tight folds of my warm, moist flesh. His testicles slapped against my ass; then he moved his hands to grasp each cheek of my curvaceous butt. He separated them widely as he pushed himself even further inside me.
The surprise unsteadied me and I faltered in my attention to Dave’s now extremely aroused cock.
Dave was quick to reassure me, quick to make me resume the task of bringing him off with my mouth.
Both men were now gasping with pleasure and I noticed Dave’s knees were beginning to tremble.
All three of us seemed to be sliding together as rivulets of sweat lubricated our flesh. The musky smell from Dave’s groin grew more intense. My belly became heavy with a sweet, almost unbearably erotic fullness.
Mike was servicing me well. His penis seemed to fill my deepest recesses, as he slid it backwards and forwards in a demonically persistent cadence.
An electric thrill shot through my body when Mike moved a hand underneath my aching belly. He began playing with my swollen bud, while continuing to fuck me. I think the pleasure was equally his when my butt squirmed energetically at the delightful prospect of gratification.
I noticed Dave’s cock was beginning to pulse hard. He started to dig his fingers even more deeply into my shoulders.
The ecstasy radiating from my loins had caused me to suck with increased passion on his captive flesh. Suddenly, my mouth was overflowing with his warm, sticky cum.
Dave’s cries could have woken the dead.
My own orgasm followed shortly after.
Mike then began filling my pussy with his hot, gooey seed.
My groin shuddered over and over again. I pushed my round bottom violently against my new lover, desperate to drink in every drop of him.
Mike’s cries were low, guttural and animal-like.
After that, Dave and Mike were like an addiction to me. I’m almost sure that’s the way they’d planned it, the way they wanted it. It was impossible to let go of such intense gratification. Dave must have done this kind of thing before. He knew that beneath the knickers of almost any young woman was a powerful, snaking lust he could chain to himself - as long as he pleasured it correctly. That’s exactly what he did. A forty-year-old man had successfully seduced a teenage girl into practically begging for his cock. He must have thought all his Christmases had come at once.
The next six months were a kaleidoscope of eroticism as Dave and Mike fucked me and pleasured me in every conceivable position and in every conceivable way. However, we eventually became undone – dramatically undone. I think it was Mike’s idea to videotape some of our little games.
Of course, my friend Nikki had to find the evidence. She showed it to her mum, who showed it to mine. All hell broke loose. Nikki went back to live with her mother. Dave moved away from the area.
I felt responsible. My father stormed at me in a rage and my mother cried.
I discovered my sexuality was a snarling beast that could cause havoc if not kept strictly under control. At this point in my life - married with two children - Paul was dismantling the barricades. He didn’t comprehend the enormous lusting monster he was releasing.
Now I found myself tied to the bed by a jealous husband who revelled in my sexuality, but at the same time, wanted to control it. I understood to my core it was not possible.
Paul was on a journey towards that knowledge.
“Paul, untie me.” I became more insistent.
“No babe,” he replied firmly then continued, “I’ve got a friend – someone you don’t know - who wants to fuck you. I want to watch, I know you’ll enjoy it.”
I glared at him, gathering up every ounce of darkness within me. “Well Paul, if you do that to me, you’ll have to keep me tied to this bed for a very, very long time – because the moment you let me go I’m walking out the door. I mean it – I’ll finish our marriage in a second!”
That seemed to stop him in his tracks. He was confused. “But you let Steve fuck you – in fact, you couldn’t get enough of him. What’s the difference?” Paul’s question was genuinely quizzical.
“Idiot!” I exploded then continued, “That’s because I’ve always fancied him. You just gave me permission to do what I wanted anyway.”
“What do you mean Kristin? You would have fucked Steve anyhow?”
I was becoming exasperated. “No Paul, I wouldn’t have! I’m married to you – I love you. Just don’t deliberately put temptation in front of me then have a hissy fit because I actually enjoy it!”
Paul was beginning to get the message. “OK Kristin – OK, I’ll untie you” he said in disappointment.
I sat up in relief and glowered in my husband’s direction. “If your so-called friend is anywhere near I suggest you tell him to get lost – before I do!”
Without another word Paul got dressed and exited our bedroom and did, I assume, exactly as I’d ordered. I never got to meet his randy accomplice. However, I never did tell Paul about my next masturbatory fantasy. It centred on being fucked from behind by a complete stranger, whilst helplessly tied and blindfolded. It occurred to me that if I ever wanted to act out my flight of imagination, it would be at my choosing, not Paul’s. That’s something my husband would have to understand. Obviously we had a lot of talking to do. It wouldn’t be easy, Paul didn’t seem to experience anger or jealousy as long as he felt he was controlling the action. When he sensed he wasn’t, much more primitive feelings surfaced. I felt some compassion for him; it wasn’t deliberate. As I’d discovered myself, our emotional monsters never learnt how to be politically correct. Of course, there was also my own primitiveness to consider. In other words, I did get a certain sadistic enjoyment from winding my husband up over Steve. I loved the fact he cared enough to be jealous; I loved exercising that power - and if Paul told the truth, when I threw that cup at him at Steve’s place, I think he might have been a little disappointed if I hadn’t. I pondered on the complexity of it all.
After Paul untied me - and banished who ever it was he had lined up - I took a long scented bath then spent a lot of time on my make-up. It made me feel good. “Come on Paul,” I said, my energy returning, “I want to go shopping, you can help me choose a few bits and pieces.”
He raised an eyebrow, as he looked over the top of the newspaper he was again reading and sighed, “Whatever you want Kristin, whatever you want.”
Stretching our budget a little, I bought some sexy attire - some see through items, a very low cut stretch velvet top with a vivid tiger print and a beautiful black lacy basque edged with a deep scarlet trim.
Paul trailed behind me, though I think he quite enjoyed helping with the decision-making.
Eventually, we stopped to get some lunch at a nice little bistro and sat opposite each other, me circling the rim of my wine glass with a finger. “Paul,” I said then continued, “I know all about your little games with Lynn. How much have you spent on her services exactly?” I thought he was going to choke on his pot of lite beer.
“Bloody women!” He exclaimed, “Can’t they keep anything to themselves!”
I smiled in satisfaction. “Paul sweetheart, if I were you, I think it would very be wise if you always remembered when two women get together, there is very little they don’t talk about,” I purred the words.
“OK, OK – so I had a little fun, I didn’t think you’d understand”. He was floundering.
I sensed his discomfort and continued to pursue the subject, “Actually Paul, I had a little fun with Steve and - forgive me if I’m wrong - but I got the impression you had a some difficulty understanding that?”
He squirmed. I looked at him a bit more softly and touched his hand, stroking it with my fingers. Gently I persisted, “Paul, I love you. Whatever you’ve done I also know you’ve never stopped loving me. I enjoyed screwing Steve, but that isn’t going to make me run off with him or change my feelings about you”.
He relaxed a little.
I continued, “I’ve been chatting to Lynn again lately. I loved watching her bring that man off on stage; I thought it was incredibly erotic. I want to do that. I want to work with Lynn.”
My husband looked at me in amazement. If he’d still been drinking that pot of beer at the time, I think he would have choked again.
I looked him in the eye as I pursued the subject, “I love feeling sexy and I love the sensations I get when I make a man come, when I know he wants me – plus, of course our budget could benefit from the extra cash.” I could see Paul was softening.
“Can I watch?” He said ironically, with a slight grin.
I returned his smile and giggled. Erotic massage would be within my comfort zone. I couldn’t think of a more interesting way to earn a living.
It was around midday when I turned up at Lynn’s place the next day. She greeted me warmly.
“Nervous?” She asked.
“Yeah, you could say that” I responded, with butterflies in my tummy.
“Have a drink,” she said, “It’ll relax you.”
We chatted as I sipped on a glass of good wine.
“Just be warm and natural,” she instructed, “Put them at their ease. You look good Kristin, they’ll love you.”
Just after I’d finished the last drop of my wine, there was a ring on the door. By that time, I was wearing an extremely short clinging black skirt, coupled with my tight and plunging tiger-printed velvet top. Underneath was a black padded push-up bra that enhanced my cleavage beautifully. I wore a matching lacy G-string.
Lynn answered the call and ushered in an ordinary looking man, probably in his mid-forties. He looked clean and respectable.
He gazed at me appreciatively.
I smiled in his direction. My breath came a little more rapidly.
“Hi,” I said, “I’m Paige. I’m here to help you relax. It’s good to meet you.” I offered him my hand as I made the last statement, holding on a little longer than I would in any other situation. I softly circled his palm with my thumb.
His eyes never left me.
I guided him into Lynn’s beautifully prepared room. It was lit only by several strategically placed candles and the air was perfumed with a delicate incense.
My client disrobed and showered in the ensuite.
By the time he was finished, I was dressed in only my brief black G-string.
The sight of my body transfixed him – it’s soft curves and full breasts. I noticed his cock was beginning to become aroused. An increasing flutter stirred in my belly.
Obediently, he lay down in the prepared space.
Beginning with his scalp, I began to massage every part of him, applying a firm but gentle pressure. I allowed myself to get into an easy, enjoyable rhythm. My breathing began to synchronise with his and I entered an almost mediative state. I could feel his muscles relax and give up their struggle with life under my caress. His skin was warm and receptive; he was drinking in my touch like a thirsty man in the desert. I experienced some compassion for his need. As I was concentrating on his shoulders, he reached out a hand and very gently traced the outline of my hips and butt with his fingertips.
A slight groan escaped from his lips.
I felt the heat radiating from my pussy as it swelled in response. I continued with the rhythmic stroking of his flesh.
When every inch of him had been reduced to a willing jelly, it was time to attend to his stiffening cock.
He lay on his back, legs slightly parted, eyes half-closed. His mouth was relaxed and open. He was in an ecstasy of expectation. His erection was now rock hard and I detected a slight throbbing in the protuberant veins.
Gently, I pulled back his entire foreskin and completely exposed the swollen head of his penis. I poured warm lubricant over it and then, with one hand, continued to grip the base of the stalk and all spare flesh. This left his whole length - and its bulging tip - glistening and naked. With my other, also well-lubricated hand, I began a rhythmic movement. His bare cock, with its engorged apex, was squeezed snugly inside my grasp.
He writhed in bliss as his most sensitive part slid easily in and out of my enclosing fist. His groin strained towards me, his hands dug desperately into the softness beneath him. I noticed the hungry bulge in my hand was now a deep, glowing purple. His mouth was really wide open now, as he gasped for air. Beads of sweat were forming on his freshly showered skin. He was moaning and rocking in delight.
I studied the expression on his face. I found myself wanting to experience his look as he came. I didn’t have long to wait. All of a sudden, his groin lifted several inches in the air and his cock spurted a fountain of hot, sticky cum that ran all over my hand and mixed easily with the warm lubricant. At that moment his head was thrown back, eyes completely closed and lips parted wide. Deep, reverberating sounds that seemed to emanate from the depths of his belly escaped from his open mouth. Those primeval groans echoed for some time and sent pleasurable shivers up and down my spine.
I continued to hold his cock until it was totally spent.
When I was sure he was finished, I picked up a small, soft towel and mopped up the mixture of lubricant and cum that clung to his body. Leaving it there for his comfort and further use, I washed my hands and forearms thoroughly under warm, running water. My pussy continued to throb and my body seemed to be filled with electricity. I left my client to gather himself at his own pace, while I showered, dressed and tidied myself in another room.
I met him again in the lounge, just as he was about to leave. His face looked totally calm and radiant. His whole body had a softer air about it. He smiled beautifully in my direction. Almost huskily, he said “Paige, I’d love to see you again – same time next week OK?”
“Yeah – that’ll be fine” I responded warmly.
He gently grasped my hand, lifted it up towards his mouth and kissed it in deference. With that he was gone.
I looked in Lynn’s direction.
She was grinning widely. “You slayed him Kristin, he loved you!”
I smiled in response. I loved the way I was feeling – a sex goddess embodied in mortal flesh! I thought about Paul. I still found him incredibly sexy. No doubt, he would willingly revel in my newfound sexual energy; I certainly needed an outlet. That day I had two more clients, both of who responded gratefully and orgasmically to my attentions. My body was sparking! New thoughts invaded my head. I wanted to live more sensually, to be totally into my own body. Heaven above could wait – I wanted heaven on earth.
I decided to join a women’s gym and enrol in a massage course. My earnings would give me two freedoms, time and money. I decided I’d use both commodities on the pleasures of the flesh. In my more academic studies, I’d learnt that physical delights had once been considered sacred and holy gifts from the Goddess until - that is - the Puritan Ethic attempted to suck the life out of existence.
Paul looked up at me as I walked in our door that evening.
“Kids been behaving themselves?” I enquired.
“Yeah, they’ve been fine, they’re both in bed” he responded. He continued looking at me, a quizzical and intrigued expression on his face. “Well,” he said, “What kind of day did you have?”
I gave him a long, smouldering look and ran my tongue around my lips. “Great!” I replied.
He returned my gaze. He had intense air of controlled frustration and a jealous darkness gathered around him. “Slut!” He spat the word in my direction.
Before I’d had time to respond, he was on his feet.
He gripped both my wrists and pinned them behind me, before half pushing, half pulling me into the bedroom. Once there, he undressed himself in second, then savagely shoved me down on to the bed. He lifted my skirt and pushing aside the fabric of G-string, he drove his fingers inside me. He parted my thighs with a very forceful knee. He pressed his lips against mine in a hard and demanding kiss, while his tongue passionately and impatiently explored my mouth.
“Filthy little slut!” He groaned as he removed his fingers from my pussy and slid that hand underneath my butt. Painfully, his fingers dug into my skin and he drew me closer. He was preparing to thrust his greedy erection into my moist opening. He was so excited; I thought he was going to come immediately. It took just a few vigorous lunges before his groin was shuddering in ecstasy. Orgasmic ripples shot through his entire body. He collapsed in a heap on top of me, his half erect penis still inside my body. He wrapped his arms round me in a tight embrace and buried his face in the curve of my neck, “I love you Kristin, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
The next few weeks became an intense journey of exploration as I learnt more about my new profession. My sex life with Paul became frequent and hot, very hot. Funnily enough, he never mentioned his best friend Steve and from being a frequent visitor to our house, I never saw him. After some months, I casually mentioned this to Paul.
My husband fixed me with an intense stare then responded a little coldly, “He’s been very busy on some new contracts – why, do you miss him?”
“No Paul – it’s just that he was your best friend and now you never seem to see him,” I replied, rather enjoying the obvious irritation created by the mention of Steve’s name.
I still worked one or two days a week as a legal secretary. It was a large law firm, with plush offices and many prestigious clients. One day, I noticed Wendy - my boss and best friend - had a 4pm appointment with a Mr. Lainge. That was Steve’s surname, but it never occurred to me he had become one of her clients – that is, until he walked into my office at the appointed time. My stomach flipped as he gave me a long, appreciative look. I never knew a man could disrobe you in a second with just one glance until I experienced the way Steve looked at me in that moment.
Frantically managing to gather a professional demeanour, I returned his gaze, “Oh, hi Steve – what are you doing here?” My question was friendly, but quizzical.
“Just some boring contractual stuff,” he responded easily then continued, “But seeing you makes it a whole lot more interesting.” A faint smile played across his lips as he almost arrogantly continued to look into my eyes.
Shivers ran up and down my spine, my mouth got dry and almost imperceptibly, I thought, I began to breathe a little faster. I got the impression Steve was well aware of the effect he had on me.
“See you later?” He said in my direction, as Wendy ushered him into her office.
Around 5pm, just as I was finishing for the day, Steve and Wendy concluded their appointment. They both stopped by my desk.
Wendy looked at me knowingly, “I hear Steve’s a friend of yours Kristin,” she said.
I returned the look, “Yeah,” I responded, “Paul and Steve have known each other since school.” I guessed my previous descriptions of Steve’s sexual prowess were running through Wendy’s head.
“Oh well,” she nonchalantly replied, “I must run, I’m late for an engagement. I’ll leave you two to chat.” Her words were almost conspiratorial. Then, with a brief wave, she was gone.
The air between Steve and myself almost crackled, the electricity was palpable.
“Fancy a drink?” He enquired with a smile.
He took me to a beautiful little wine bar and treated me with total deference. Seated in an intimate little corner amidst the subdued candle-lit illumination, he turned to me.
“Are you and Paul happy?” He asked with immense curiosity.
I looked into his liquid brown eyes, “Yeah, we’re fine,” I replied truthfully.
“I don’t believe you” he responded quickly.
I just let his statement hang in mid-air as I continued to drown in his gaze.
He brushed away a strand of hair from my face, before very softly tracing the outline of my cheek and neck. He picked up my hand and placed a middle finger between his warm, moist lips. He began suckle on it gently, looking directly at me as he did so. No doubt, he enjoyed my sharp intake of breath and obvious pleasure. Then he kissed the inside of my wrist, slowly murmuring, “I want to fuck you, I always want to fuck you. Just looking at you makes me hard. Come back with me tonight? Please?” He’d captivated me and he knew it.
“OK,” was all I whispered in response, my heart racing.
With that, the authoritative man I knew was back in control. He paid the bill and ushered me into his car like a total gentleman. No words passed between us on the journey back to his place. I lost myself in the music playing on the car stereo and the exquisite sensation of Steve’s hand resting on my inner thigh. He lightly squeezed that sensitive flesh as if he was impatient to touch the rest of me.
He put the key in his front door and ushered me inside. “Coffee?” He asked unnecessarily.
I didn’t answer as I looked into his face.
“How about a fuck then?” He said with a grin. He took my hand and led towards his playroom.
story continues in Erotic Disclosure Chapter 7: My Inner Whore Discovered