My Erotic Forced Cuckold Story
I could not forget such nights; when I would be in total submission to my wife. I remember how Sharon came from the bathroom, naked, her full breasts dancing on her chest with her moves, her wet, fleshy body swinging so meticulously. I swallowed, and watched her approach my seated position on the bed, with my back raised to a few inches.
Sharon came up to me as if to kiss, then turned, breaths away and bit my left ear lightly. The warmth and depth of her breath automatically aroused me, her wet body pressing against me. She lifted herself off lightly, then slid her left hand between her fleshy thighs. With two fingers, she spread herself, both her legs moving apart as she did. She inserted her middle finger in, and gasped to the feeling that rushed through her.
I watched, erected hard and showing a protrusion over my trousers. Sharon had her left foot bent over the right, her right hand squeezing her breasts, and her tongue out licking. I tried to rise, but she ejected her hand from between her legs and with her wet, sticky fingers, pushed me back.
“Not you, sir.”
I was confused. I watched, nonetheless, as the feeling razed my insides. She walked to the wardrobe, a few meters off where she stood, then bent, letting me enjoy the view she left behind. She was wet and looked tasty. How I desired to touch her, feel her, squeeze her, spank her, fuck her.
Sharon returned with a small, black, leather bag. She dropped it where she had earlier stood, and as I looked at it, she climbed on top of the bed and turned so that her ass was right in front of my face. She bent her back, and lifted herself behind once, lightly.
I grabbed Sharon’s fat behinds in both my hands, then buried my head between her legs. I had just drawn my tongue out, when she moved forward a little, then lay on her tummy, stretching both feet some more, so that they were much apart. I could see her sex a few inches in front of me. It looked juicy, hot, and tasty.
Just as I bent down to reach Sharon, she slowly collected herself up on her knees. If her plan on this day was torture, then she had done a good job at it. I wiped the sweat that had built up on my forehead with my left arm. Sharon turned, then dropped her feet off the bed. She bent down to her bag and took out the little cock cell that she had before locked my tiny penis in.
“Sharon,” I called. She remained busy, searching the bag for the straps, which she pulled out.
“Unzip it.” She instructed, her eyes trained on my erected penis. I looked at Sharon hesitantly. “Are you waiting for something?” She asked.
I peered at the chastity device in her right hand, then slowly dropped my hands on my pants to unzip them. Sharon was on me as soon as my waist was unbelted, unbuttoned, and my zip down.
“Your hands.” She said.
I obediently stretched them before me, and Sharon took them, locking a strap on the left before tying it to the right. She then brought the pair together and fastened it to the bed. I looked at my half naked body as Sharon reached for my penis. She held it in her right hand, and the warmth of her hand made me harder. I could feel her flesh over mine, and it was exhilarating.
She took the chastity device, and in it, went my little guy. She locked it, and took the key with her back to the bathroom. Sharon returned with a towel over her groin and chest areas. Her phone was on the right hand, and she glanced at it once before turning to the door when a knock soon came. I followed her with a gaze, wondering who that could be.
I could hear the two talk in low tones, and Sharon laugh once, before she walked back in, followed by a man. He was taller than I, broader, and composed. He looked once my way, and the humiliation swept through me; the shame. I just sat there, strapped, confused.
“Sharon, what―” I tried to ask, but she cut me off.
“Sshh.” Sharon turned to me with an index finger over her mouth. “Today, all you’ll do is watch,” she added.
Still wrapped, Sharon turned behind her, and slid into the hands of the man she had come with. The envy choked me as I watched their lips sink into each other. Sharon’s left hand then went over her shoulder. With it, she released the towel, exposing her beautiful body.
Below her waist, was a thong, which she quickly pulled and folded out.
“You know why I wore this?” She asked, approaching me. I shook my head. When she was close enough, Sharon stuffed the thong inside my mouth, then walked back to the man.
“Jake,” she called, “fuck me, please.”
Jake looked down at Sharon, lifted my wife off her feet, then placed her carefully on her back and gently against the bed’s foot-side. He spread her feet, then dropped his head between them. Sharon’s moans made me twist where I sat and watched, weak, before I finally let go. I couldn’t help but drown in her pleasures.
“You’re big.” Sharon smiled as she held Mark’s thing in both her hands, then plunged it into her mouth. She pleasured him, and his moans made me wish I had looked away. But how she did it, and the pleasure she drew from it, made me savour each moment enviously.
I watched them progress to a sweet fuck as Sharon had submitted to the feeling the man, and clearly just wanted to be pounded to orgasm. It didn’t take much of the deep strokes from Jake before Sharon groaned, convulsed, and a minute later, dropped her weight. I just watched, pushing against the bed every once in a while as Sharon let Jake do with her whatever else he pleased.
Jake went on, a few strokes with more pleasure as he climaxed. He expressed his delight with a stiff back, a few more deep strokes, a moan, then he finally released his fluids within my wife.
He smiled as he ejected his drooped penis heavily, smacked it a few times against Sharon’s ass, then slid it back to its place. He turned as he came, and left. Sharon sighed, staggered to the bathroom, then returned a few minutes later.
“Oh, honey,” she said, “Time for you to get out of these.”
