Our sex lives were great for about the next three months. We took turns being the domme or dom, spankee and spanker, slave and master: If you imagine it, and we probably did it with our limited library of toys and games. I found several sites on the internet that were incorporated into our playtimes. One allowed me to send her a ‘Spanking Card’ (similar to an electronic birthday card, only redeemable for a spanking). I even found one that described Domestic Discipline, where one gets a good spanking or whipping ever time a household rule is violated. We even drafted up our own set of rules, and I spent many an evening over her lap ‘paying for my sins’.
Then, it happened again.
Yes, I did the unspeakable again. While our sex lives had gotten better, my burning desire for more was still eclipsing hers. I continued to get my jollies via the internet. I continued to chat with that same lady located about 30 miles away. Only, now we were usually not chatting about us getting together some day. Now we were comparing notes, and she was giving me advice about how to steer the play in a more ‘creative’ (kinky) direction without pushing my lovely lady too far. Another woman was giving me advice about how to manage the situation from a woman’s point of view. (We men usually push too hard and ruin it for everyone.) Her advice was priceless.
Everything was working great. Our sex lives were the best that they had ever been. I did not know that she had a kinky side, too. We were in seventh heaven together. Occasionally my internet friend would ask if I thought about her joining us for an evening of kinky fun. But, I knew that would never work. She accepted that fact, and continued to give me advice. Things were moving slower that I wanted, but we were still having the times of our lives. Two perverted, middle-aged, kinky people fucking like they’ve never fucked before.
Or, were we? One day I came home and found that she had been digging in my briefcase and found a phone number. A phone number that was hidden away. Or, so I thought. I had never called my internet friend, but I did write down her phone number just in case for future reference. (Actually, I was hoping that someday the three of us might get together for some bondage fun). But, still I had not called my internet friend. Or had lunch, or anything else, with her. Of course, that explanation, to this day, is not believed. Not only was I having an affair (remember, perception is reality), but I was forcing her to do things that she did not want to do in the first place.
That’s right. She did not want to play our silly bondage games after all. She only participated because she was afraid of losing me to another, kinkier lady. She had been living a sexual lie for nearly three months. She was making me think that she was enjoying it, when in reality she was just doing it to keep me from leaving. When the shit hit the fan that night, everything came to a complete stop. No more sex. No more bondage games. No more mutual spankings. No more nothing.
We were on the verge of divorce. I think the only thing that stopped the divorce was she was afraid to go it alone. She knew her life style would change (and so would mine) drastically if she left. Together our incomes were allowing us to be an average, middle classed couple. We owned our home, two cars, and traveled from time to time. But, separately, our lifestyle would be reduced drastically. And, we both knew it.
I moved into the spare bedroom, where I lived for about two months. We were now roommates. Our life as lovers was over. We split all the household chores, but there was very little to talk about. We acted like lovers whenever we were around friends and family, but when we were alone we were living like financial partners, not friends or lovers. Eventually, our little war thawed, and we reached a compromise. We returned to our older, more traditional life style. All the kinky toys were delegated to a storage bag somewhere out in the garage. Sex was vanilla again. Boring. Mechanical. No love was involved. Just two animals getting it on to satisfy their respective instincts. Nowhere was love involved in the bedroom. We still loved each other personally, and decided to stay together as a couple and personal friends. But there was no love between the sheets. Pure fucking, no love making.
Of course, even though our situation had deteriorated drastically, I continued my favorite pastime. It’s all I had. Hookers were too expensive. And, I’m too old to begin the dating game again. I was even more sexually frustrated that before. The internet is a great thing for frustrated people. Then, I discovered the bisexual sites. Guys having sex with other guys. Girls having sex with other girls. And, guys and girls having sex with other guys and girls together. Sometimes these bisexual scenes involved my other favorite fetishes: bondage, spanking, etc. God is good. Only a good God would invent such perversions, right? (Eat your heart out, Jerry Fallwell. God made all the gays, tyrannies, and bi’s, too).
While investigating these sites, I suddenly noticed that there were couples who liked to play with singles. Some of these couples liked to play with other couples. But, some like to add a second lady to their fun. Others liked to add another man. And, sometimes they wanted to play in a bondage setting. After trading emails with several such couples, I started some serious discussions with one couple who was interested in finding another submissive male.
Yes, I understood that with most of these couples, I was going to have to perform with the man first. The lady would only join in if she were comfortable with the man 2 man stuff. I knew that some of the singles on this site would contact the couples, only hoping to get to fuck the lady. So the experience couples would only talk to the guys who were willing to have sex with the man first. I knew that going into my conversations.
The couple that I liked was a Femdom couple — the wife was the top and the hubby was the bottom. She wanted to see her man having sex with another man. She especially wanted to see him give or get a BJ from another man. If the scene was good, then she might participate. But, there were no promises that she would open her pussy to anyone. During our IM conversations, we realized that although her hubby was a sub to her, he would never sub to another man. I, on the other hand, was willing to be his submissive, too. I knew that if I wanted to play, I would have to give him a BJ first, then take what cums up later. So, we devised the scene I described in the beginning of this story.
Here I was: On my knees, hands bound behind my back, ring-gag holding my mouth open, a giant cock pounding away inside my mouth, and a blonde Amazon pounding away at my ass with a strap-like paddle. She was timing her blows to coincide with his cock’s arrival at the back of my mouth. My reaction to the strap hitting my ass helped me propel his cock out of my mouth. This helped alleviate the gag reflex. He would shove his man meat into my mouth, and she would smack my ass. Over and over. And, my cock was loving it. My cock was rock hard — something that had not happed for a while without some help from my friend, Rosy Palm. Of course, I was too busy to hear the door open quietly. In and out, crack, crack, and crack. My mouth was becoming sore, and my ass sorer. I was way too busy to hear that a fourth person had just entered our motel room. After all, I had a mouth full of cock and an ass that was on fire.
Suddenly, the owner of the big cock reached forward and grabbed the back of my head. “Swallow it all, you dirty bastard!” he yelled. “Swallow all of my cum, you cocksucking whore!” Suddenly his big cock swelled, completely filling my mouth. His cock was now pushing against the back of my throat. I wanted to gag. But, he would not let up the pressure. Then it happened. A sudden blast of sweet substance filled the back of my throat. I had no choice but to swallow or choke. He was holding the back of my head, so I could not pull it away from the inrush. There was no air gap between his cock and my lips. It was either swallow or die. And, I was having too much fun to die. So, I quickly began to drink his man juice. And, it tasted surprisingly good. I had never tasted cum before. Not even my own. It tasted better than I had thought it would. I was beginning to enjoy becoming a cocksucker.
Just as suddenly, the paddling stopped. Nobody was spanking my ass now. In fact, I now felt a pair of lips kissing my red hot ass. Someone was massaging it, too. First the left cheek, then the right. With my breathing slowly becoming normal again, I was able to hear some movement behind me. Was I imagining things? Were there two sets of lips on my ass. I still had a giant cock filling my mouth, so I knew it was not my male counterpart that was kissing and caressing. But, were there two sets of lips kissing my cheeks? Was there more than one body behind my ass? I thought I could hear two distinctive sets of heels in the background. How could this be? There were only three of us in the room — and only one set of heels, right? But, I was sure that there were two people kissing my freshly paddled ass.
Suddenly, I could feel someone prying my ass cheeks apart. And, a hot tongue was licking my anal crack. I could feel a tongue along the rim of my rosebud. At the same time, I felt another set of lips circle around my cock. How could this be? One set of lips was licking my anal opening, and another was sucking my cock. Who owns the other set of lips? Suddenly, a cold substance was applied to my rosebud. Then, someone stuck a finger into my opening. Now two. Next, I could feel a hard object prodding at its opening. Slowly, it began to enter. It hurt at first. But then my sphincter opened and the object was pushed further into my rectum. I was getting a real ass fucking. And then I could feel someone leaning forward, bending over to whisper into my ear.
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