Tacky (A Femdom Story)

I heard Georgina’s car in the driveway and I almost ran downstairs. When she got in the door I was waiting there, and I went to hug and kiss her. Sometimes she likes this, sometimes she doesn’t. Today she reciprocated, and kissed me back very firmly, holding me by the shoulders until she had finished.

‘I’m going to get changed,’ she said. ’Can you change as well? We are going out.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Great. Where?’

‘The Embury.’ She breezed up the stairs and went into bedroom where she began to disrobe. I saw her pull down a long green evening dress with a lace neckline. I chose a plain short-sleeved shirt, a brown belt and dark jeans, because I know that she likes it when I am slightly underdressed compared to her.

I was puzzled by the choice of venue. The Embury was one of those places that had once been a country motel and tried to go upmarket but only gotten about halfway. The lobby still had the motor court feel, and the restaurant was the sort of place that make seafood cocktail out of crabstick, frozen shrimp and salad cream. But I figured she must have a reason for wanting to be here.

She drove, and when we arrived I headed towards the restaurant, thinking we were meeting friends for dinner, but she called me back.

‘No sweetie. We’re going upstairs first.’

‘We’re staying here?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Just the night. Change of scenery.’

Now I was even more puzzled. Why would we stay at such a place, only a twenty minute drive from our house?

We went upstairs. Our room was plain, a simple double with tacky tan carpet and brown walls, a mirror and a floral print, with a view out over the city from our tiny chair-less balcony which was totally dominated by the air-conditioning unit. Besides the bed there was a TV cabinet and two armchairs with a small table between them, and a fridge, and that was all. There was no bucket of champagne, and no flowers. Clearly, this was no romantic weekend special.

‘Come here and sit on my lap’ she said from an armchair, and I did. She kissed me hard on the mouth again, for several minutes, chewing on my lower lip and breathing hard. She hadn’t let me come in five weeks and within a few seconds of this I was straining hard against my jeans, and I asked for permission to re-arrange myself, which she denied.

‘In about five minutes, a man called Peter will come into this room and you will do whatever he says,’ she said. ‘Uh…OK. What is he going to do?’ She smiled and rolled her eyes; if I was supposed to know, she would have told me. She just grabbed my head again and kissed me savagely, hardly letting me pull back for breath.

My erection went down, partly because of the ferocity of her mouth, but also because I had an idea what was going to happen. We’d talked about it, and said one day we might do it. But that was all. I tried to stand up to clear my head, while I asked her a bit more about her plan, but she yanked me back down into her lap and grabbed me by the shoulders, and pressed her forehead into mine. ‘Whatever he says? Understand?’ I nodded.

Peter came in. Somewhat to my relief, he was not built like a weightlifter. I recognised him vaguely as the boyfriend of one of Georgina’s younger colleagues. He was no more than thirty, and he was pretty slim, like I’d been at that age. He was also quite nice-looking, although he looked a little nervous.

‘Hi,’ he said, seeing me on Georgina’s lap.

‘Peter, this is my husband Oliver. You two met at the end of year dinner.’

I was allowed to stand up and we shook hands tentatively and said a shy hello. I do not know who would have won a sweaty palms competition, but it would have been a contest, that’s for sure.

‘Here’s your key, Peter,’ said Georgina, and produced a plain brown envelope from her handbag. He nodded and took it into the tiny little bathroom. I worked it out at once – he was a sub too, whose girlfriend kept him in a device. I had asked Georgie to do this for me when we first began, but she had always declined, saying she loved the look of my erection in tight jeans, far more than the thrill of having me caged.

‘Are we going to…’ I began to ask her but she placed her finger to her lips and pulled out a roll of electrical tape from her handbag. If I kept asking, she’d tape up my mouth. I kept quiet. Peter returned from the bathroom a free man and my wife’s gaze went straight to his crotch. Mine followed, but I couldn’t see anything spectacular, and I was relieved.

‘Kiss him,’ she said to Peter. He came towards me hesitantly and we stood with crotches apart and our hands on each other’s shoulders for a few moments, neither wishing to make the first move. He had light stubble and the smell from his face was most definitely female.

‘Go on!’ Georgina ordered. She had assumed the triumphal position in the armchair, her arms above her head and legs out in front of her, slightly spread so the smooth fabric of long dress hung delicately between her thighs. I began to stiffen.

Peter and I kissed. I would not say it as a magical moment; neither of us knew who was supposed to take the lead and out tongues remained well back in our mouths, until my wife worked out that we were doing little more than pressing our open lips together. ‘Properly!’ she said.

His tongue went into my mouth, gently, and he held me by the back of the head. I could tell he was wondering how long she was going to make him do it before she let him stop. The answer was several minutes. I ended up having to pull away and swallow the pool of saliva that had developed in the back of my throat.

‘Both of you take your pants off,’ she said, smiling, and we both obeyed. We were both in tight boxers, and neither of us were fully erect, although I was certainly not flaccid. The look on my wife’s face and the tone in her voice was turning me on no end, but the whole situation was unnerving too and my penis didn’t quite know which way to go. I guessed his was faring about the same. I looked at his uncertain face, and felt a moment of mateship.

‘Underpants too,’ said Georgina like we were schoolboys to be caned. We both removed them shyly and I looked down at my unwilling adversary. I am medium sized, and it turned out that he was smaller than me. My anus clenched slightly.

‘Peter, you know what to do,’ said my wife, and threw him a small bottle of lubricant. He asked me to turn and bend over on the bed. I looked for one last time at Georgina, wondering if there was any possibility of talking this over. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do it. It was more that I felt a stage had been missed, between our discussion, and the reality that was unfolding right now in the cheap hotel room. She smiled and put her finger to her lips again and I knew there was no way out of it; this is what she wanted, and this is what she would get.

I bent over on the bed and soon his fingers were applying the lube to my ass, ball and perineum. I could no longer see him, only my wife smiling and stretching her arms up to give me a view of those wonderful pits. His hands felt warm and good, and he was gentle, and pretty soon I started to stiffen fully. My wife’s eyes drifted down to my penis and she half closed them, a lusty look I knew well.

As Peter’s fingers began to make their way into my ass, I started to forget about his presence and concentrate on my lovely wife, sitting there all beautiful and majestic, with her hair flowing over her shoulders and her eyes flicking all over my body. Pretty soon, the connection was made; it was her pleasuring me, I told myself. Through her instruction, I was being made love to, while she watched on. I wanted to kneel before her and kiss her feet as I did so often at home when she was in that position. I mouthed her a kiss instead, which she returned. I was now very hard indeed.

Peter’s fingers were fully inside me now, brushing aside a few leftovers and working their way to the back, where the nerves lay coiled and gathered around the prostate. My wife can make me whimper like a baby when she touches me there, but I was not expecting a man to be nearly so knowledgeable. But it seemed that he must have done this before, or, it had been done to him so often that he knew exactly what to do. Light, gentle tapping strokes on my prostate were slowly replaced by deeper thrusting motions, taking in the whole top wall in their course. I began to loosen, and small moans escaped my lips.

I looked up again, half expecting to see Georgina with her hand in her skirts, but she had resisted that urge. Her left hand had moved to gently cup her breast, and her right arm was still above her head. Her face was flushed and her eyes were still half closed.

‘Now, Peter,’ she said, after a few more minutes. She knew by my moans that I was ready for something a little bigger.

Peter removed his fingers and wiped them on a towel behind me, and my anus clenched again, as it does when it tries to expel something from inside it. But it also felt warm and wet and there was a definite ache of pleasure in the back where he had been massaging me. I had to wait for a moment while he girded up his erection for the job ahead, and then I felt the first gentle push of the velvety head into half opened valve of my ass. He moved it in and out gently, going only about a centimetre inside, and the feeling was very different from a dildo, softer, warmer, and more alive, and the deeper parts of me grew curious.

Before I even knew what I was doing. I moved my hands back to my cheeks and spread a little wider so he could go in deeper.

‘Aren’t you the eager one,’ said Georgina mockingly and I blushed with embarrassment, but at the same time my hole widened, most definitely, and I pushed back slightly to encourage more of Peter’s cock to come inside me. He continued with his gentle thrusting, and I kept pushing back in on him, and soon I could feel him fully hard, half way inside. His breathing had begun to quicken and so had mine.

My wife’s other arm had come down and now both breasts were receiving a gentle massage. She I could see the skin in her neckline as flushed pink and her mouth was slightly open.

‘Fuck him,’ she said.

Peter upped the pace a little, pressing into places that have rarely felt so full. The dildo my wife uses is larger than his cock, it’s true, but somehow it is very different when the thing going inside you is part of another body, and you don’t quite know what was going to be on the end of every thrust. Sometimes his erection faltered slightly and I was given a reprieve, but then, he would shift angle by half an inch, and he would harden again, and I would feel a whole new section of my ass being explored.

‘Fuck him good,’ said my lovely wife, and Peter pushed in deep and hit the back and I cried out. This was like no session I had ever had with my wife. The feel of the velvet head of his cock slapping firmly into the places around my prostate was delicious, and waves of pleasure began to sweep through my ass and down into my cock which was waving around below, desperate for attention and release.

I was now moaning continuously, and Peter had begun to grunt. My wife stood up and moved towards us, her hands still pressed against her chest. I could see she was hugely excited and wanted to join in, somehow. Maybe it had been her plan to sit there like a Queen the whole time, but in the end the sight was too much and she came over and sat down on the bed just in front of me. She moved her head in close to mine, so that I thought she was going to kiss me, but she pulled back and stayed just out of reach.

‘You are not allowed to come,’ she said. ‘But Peter is.’

She reached into her bra and handed him a note, from his girlfriend, to this effect. He groaned as he read it, and I felt him throb inside me. Then she lifted up her arm once more, and ran the back of her fingers inside her armpit. She placed the fingers roughly under my nose, and I knew the aroma, sweet and spicy. She was definitely aroused, and she demonstrated just how much soon afterwards, by taking off her panties and showing me the dark wet line that ran along the crotch. Soon, there were stuffed hard into my mouth.

Peter was getting close, and along with the massive but uncertain pleasure grew some jolts of pain as his hard cock slid home right down deep inside me. My wife had peeled back a shoulder strap and unhooked her lovely lacy bra and was now fondling a naked breast, licking her fingers and playing with a nipple that looked rock hard. She was kneeling on the bed now, facing me, her breast dangling down, but still not close enough for me to touch or kiss. The sight of it drove me mad and I felt the come rise up inside me, halfway up my cock.

I would come, I told myself. I’d take the punishment, the withdrawals of Georgina’s favour, that would inevitably follow. I didn’t think I was going to be able to help it, what with the display she was putting on, the scent of her cunt right below my nose, and the huge sensation building up in my cock as Peter slid deep inside me again and again.

Then, suddenly, he tensed up his whole body and came, silently. The pain was very definite now, a series of sharp stabbing feelings as his cock spasmed inside me, right up to the hilt. He jabbed hard into my prostate and I cried in stinging pain as a huge squirt of pre-cum gushed out of my cock, and made Georgina gasp with delight. But it was nothing to the lake of come that had just been emptied out inside me. However long Peter had been caged for, it was enough to fill me up, almost to the brim.

After a few final thrusts, he withdrew, rather clumsily, hurting me just a little more, and I felt a final twinge of pain as the muscles contracted around the space that had been left behind. I was left aching with a desire to come, but I had not quite made it. And I had to admit that I, the adorer or women, the man who had always thought myself straight as a die, was most definitely disappointed that the lovely hard shaft was no longer inside me and I had been denied the final moment of pleasure that was inevitably coming. Georgina was breathless with delight.

‘Can I go?’ said Peter, stepping back. ‘Yes. See you at dinner,’ she said, her eyes still locked on mine. I heard him go into the toilet to clean himself up, and maybe put his cage back on. ‘Can I..?’ I made to stand up and reached for a towel so I could wipe myself, but Georgina put a hand over my mouth, grabbed me by the arm again, and forced me back into a kneeling position. ‘Now, you lovely little slut. You are going to lick my cunt until I am good and satisfied, too.’

She lay back on the bed and presented herself. I squatted at the foot of the bed and pressed by lips into her open flesh and she orgasmed hard within a few moments. All the while, Peter’s some was slowly draining out of my ass and down my bottom and legs. Some of it was dripping onto the carpet. Now I know how it got so tacky.

I tried to get up by she grabbed me by the hair and made me giver her another orgasm. This one took fifteen minutes, and was enormous.

Finally, I was allowed to stand, and reached again for the towel to wipe up, but she denied me that dignity and made me go down to dinner just the way I was. Peter and his girlfriend Anna were already at their entree. They had decided not to wait.

‘Were they good?’ said Anna. She was young and very pretty and she had that same look of unflustered determination that my own wife has on most occasions.

‘Oh yes,’ said Georgina. ‘They were very good.’

The women sat there and ate and drank and talked about work for an hour and a half while Peter and I made slightly awkward small talk and I tied to ignore the fact some of his semen was still soaking the back of my boxers. All the while my wife’s hand was on my knee, and ventured often down to my crotch to find my persistent erection, which simply would not go down.

When we were leaving, Peter and I hugged, this time properly, our full bodies connected, and the women patted us on the bottoms while we did.

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