Barbara was tugging and pinching at her swollen nipples while she worked her fingers busily in her bushy cunt then spread her wetness over her prominent clit. Jeff grasped me by the hair, and I followed his rhythm as he gently guided my head back and forth on his fat, straining cock.
“That’s it, make that big dick cum. Suck him good, you little fucker. You little slapper. Swallow a real man’s cum you sad little muppet. Wank him off right into your mouth you ugly little tart.”
The demeaning language she was using set off a trigger in me and I felt as if a hidden aspect of myself was finally stepping into the spotlight. This feels good. I like feeling like a whore, I like serving superior, well-endowed men, I like being submissive. I like being humiliated. I’d discovered a new side to myself and it was fantastic!
Barbara was wanking energetically as Jeff visibly trembled and buckled forward. He let out a long, loud grunt as his heavy gobs of spunk squirted into my open mouth. His body tensed and flexed as he drove the last of his load out of his twitching shaft. Barbara’s gasps had turned almost to a tremulous wail, rising alarmingly in pitch and volume – the kind of sound people make only when they are lost in pain or pleasure – and oblivious to what anyone else thinks.
It was quite a shock to have this attractive pair allow me to witness this intimate moment, then I realised I was an integral part of the moment — I wasn’t watching it alone on a porn site, but experiencing it for real — with all the smells, sounds and awkwardness of real people.
…
After we had returned to the office and resumed our regular routines, things hadn’t been the same of course. Not unsurprisingly, Barbara behaved as if nothing had ever happened — in fact, she became increasingly distant and cold towards me.
It saddened me to have tasted intimacy with her and then seen it vanish, but the memory of splashing my cum on her pretty face and all over her gorgeous tits was going to stay with me forever. In departmental briefings I would be struggling to pay attention, unable to think of anything other than our well-regarded Senior Analyst, masturbating herself to a wild orgasm while she watches me suck off our Research Coordinator’s enormous dick.
Things with Jeff, however, had moved up a couple of notches. Now that we’d revealed our desires for each other, it wasn’t easy to ignore them. We would typically spend Friday evenings at Jeff’s place for a movie and a few glasses of wine before the talk inevitably turned to sex. We would be kissing and undressing each other before the credits rolled.
One factor I definitely didn’t anticipate was taking the top position in sex. Jeff’s knob was deliciously big, a visual delight, a work of art — but in practical terms, somewhat difficult for me to accommodate within my inexperienced little arse. I would have to practice with a variety of dildos, eventually working my way up in scale before I could comfortably admit his full 9 inches and enjoy being thoroughly fucked by a real cock. In contrast, Jeff loved having my diminished little member shoved up his delicious pert bum and seemed to relish me depositing my copious dollops of jism in there.
Life had become a whole lot more fulfilling since our conference trip, but we hadn’t once spoken about Barbara — which made everything seem unreal and somehow undermined my happiness. I wondered whether Barbara had hurt him somehow, or if she was jealous. I didn’t want to start a conversation that might upset him, so I let it slide.
Then, late one Friday night his phone buzzed while he was in the kitchen, and leaning over I saw the incoming message:
“I hope you boys have been behaving. How about a catch-up? Love, Aunty Barbara. Xxx.”
And my heart did a somersault in my chest.
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