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Fran and the BurglarsYour master had been very pleased with your behavior at school. The boys also must have been satisfied with their little slut toy, otherwise known as ‘Fran, the teacher’; at least, you didn’t receive any complaints or punishments. You don’t have any classes to teach for the next ten days and, while you are not able to forget about the experience, at least you manage to behave normal around your family during the following days. Until one evening, six days after your ordeal in class, you receive the phone call you’ve been dreading and, at the same time, hoping for. “Hi Fran, how are you? This is Michael. Remember me?” “Yes, Michael, what do you want?” “But my dear Fran, is that any way to talk to your students? Especially when they have such nice video footage of you? Now, try that again, you bitch.” You moisten your dry throat and whisper into the phone: “Hello, Michael, how are you? What can I do for you?” “That’s better, Love. But why are you whispering?” “My husband is in the next room, and I don’t want him to listen in.” “Your husband?” Michael seems surprised. “I didn’t know you were married. Any c***dren? What’s hubbie’s name then?” “No, we don’t have any c***dren, and my husband’s name is Harold,” you reply softly. “Harold, eh? Sounds like a nice name for a nice guy, wouldn’t you say?” Michael snickers and asks you what you are wearing. Talk about cliché. “I’m wearing a blouse and a skirt, why?” “What, nothing underneath?” Michael wants to know. You are starting to feel a little warm. “Yes, of course, I’m wearing panties and a bra underneath, and pantyhose.” you reply. “Ah, that’s better. Wouldn’t want to think of my teacher as a slut that runs around naked under her skirt, right?” Without waiting for an answer to his rude remark, he orders you to take it off. “What do you mean, take it off? Take what off?” “Take off your pantyhose. Then, take off your bra. Then, take off your panties. Then, take off your skirt.” “But, Michael, I can’t do that. I told you, my husband is right in the next room.” “Fran?” “Yes, Michael?” “I DON’T CARE,” Michael screams into the phone, loud enough that you are sure your husband in the next room must have heard. “Did you forget about all the nice video we have of you? Are you going to disobey your master? You know he wants you to do what I say, don’t you?” You swallow. “Yes.” “Good girl. So then, take it off, like I told you.” “Okay, let me just…” “Fran, for the last time: take it off. Now. Where you are! If you haven’t done it in one minute, I’ll come over and rip it off your body myself, whether your husband is there or not.” Quickly you wiggle out of your bra, looking at the doorway to the living room in which Harold is watching TV. You lift your skirt and pull your pantyhose down, and manage to step out of your panties with a few seconds to spare; then you simply open the zipper on your skirt and let it fall to the floor. Breathless, you pick up the receiver again. “Okay, Michael, I’m done,” you whisper. “Good girl. Now get yourself off.” You don’t believe your ears. He can’t be serious, but you don’t want to ask and risk another of those loud outbursts. Still, you can’t just do that. “What do you mean, Michael? I don’t understand what you want me to do,” you lie, but Michael only laughs. “Oh yes, you know exactly what I mean. You want me to make it clearer for you? Sure, why not. I want you to masturbate. To play with your cunt until you cum. To bathe the kitty. To cuddle your cunt. To jerk off. To diddle your clit. To make yourself cum. To…” “Okay, I get it,” you interrupt. “Good, then get to it, Love. And when you cum, I want you to tell me, since I can’t see you. I want you to say ‘I am cumming’, loud and clear.” “Alright.” Slowly you dip your fingers into your already wet pussy. You have to suppress a moan. You didn’t know you were already this wet. Your fingers play over your clit, rubbing it first gently, then as your lust rises, faster and faster. The thought of your husband next door; of you standing there in nothing but a thin blouse; the fear that he might get up from his couch and come into the room and catch you doing what he has never seen you do before; all these only heighten your arousal. Is Harold going to catch you? What would he do if he did catch you masturbating? You hardly ever do this, mostly because your master doesn’t allow you to pleasure yourself very often, and you have never done this in front of your husband. You moan quietly into the phone as your arousal builds up. Your fingers on your clit aren’t enough anymore, and you plunge first two, then three fingers into your wet hole. Standing here with your ass on display, the possibility of your husband catching you like this brings you quickly over the edge, and when you cum, your remember Michael’s orders, and moan into the telephone: “I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum, now, I’m cumming, oh yes, yes, I’m cumming, oh, now… now…” “Your husband is standing behind you,” you hear Michael’s voice from the phone. Startled, you turn around, but there is nobody there. You are almost disappointed that nobody saw you. “No, he’s not,” you say quietly, and Michael laughs. “I know, but I made you look, didn’t I? Did you want him to catch you?” “I…. kind of,” you admit. “I’m not sure though how he would have reacted.” You giggle like a little girl. ‘But it would have been fun,’ you admit only to yourself. “Well, we’re going to find out,” Michael replies. “Hang up the phone now and go into your bedroom. You have a cell phone, call me from it on this number.” He quickly gives you his number before hanging up, and you gather the rest of your clothes and sneak up into your bedroom, locking the door behind you before calling the number Michael gave you. Now is your chance, but the thought of putting your clothes back on never even occurs to you. Still bottomless you make the call. “Hi, it’s me,” you say, somewhat dumb, but Michael lets it go. “Okay, Fran, here’s what we’re going to do: “Tomorrow night, you’re going to dress in a tight, sexy, short skirt. Stockings, no pantyhose. Wear some pretty knickers, and a tight blouse to show off your pretty tits. No bra, of course. “When your husband comes home, you are going to turn him on. You’ve done that before, haven’t you? Make sure to bend over a lot, show him your bum under that tight skirt. Open a couple of buttons on your blouse when you serve him a coffee or dinner, or bring him a beer. Let him see your tits, accidentally. Basically, I want you to make him hard! I want you to make him horny. I want you to make him want to fuck you. Do you understand?” “Yes, I do. That shouldn’t be much of a problem, Michael. Is that all?” you want to know. “No,” Michael laughs, “not quite.” You didn’t really think it would be, did you? “No,” he continues, “I want you to make him as horny as you can, but I don’t want you to fuck him. So you’ll have to come up with something. I would suggest that at first, if he makes any attempt, let him touch you, grope you, and play with you a little bit. Show him that you are responding to his advances, but tell him you want to wait until after dinner. Then, during dinner, serve him some wine.” You interrupt, “He doesn’t like wine, he only drinks beer.” “Well then get him a beer, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to put a sleeping pill or two into his drink. You need him to get sleepy before he can follow up and actually get himself off, or make you get him off. Think you can do that?” “Yes,” you reply without hesitation. “Harold always gets tired after dinner, so a couple of sleeping pills in his beer will put him out of commission in no time, no matter how horny he is.” “It shouldn’t be quite that easy, though,” Michael responds. “You should make him very, very horny before and during dinner. Think he’s still going to be easy to put to sleep? If it’s too easy, you haven’t done a good job turning him on.” “No, no, I’m sure I can do it. His sleep always means more to him than sex with me. It’s not my fault, I’m trying, but he is just not that interested anymore. I can make him as horny as I want, as soon as he feels tired, he’ll go to bed.” “I don’t understand that,” says Michael. “If I was in his position, I would fuck you day and night. I wouldn’t let you walk past me without grabbing your tits or playing with your ass. You’d be walking around your house naked most of the time so I can see your hot body. I would have my cock inside one of your holes all the time, you little slut.” Hearing him talk like that has inflamed your desire, and a little moan escapes your lips as your hand inches towards your moist pussy lips. You want to touch yourself again. Or rather, you want someone else to touch you. You remember your depraved performance in school, and suddenly you want to feel eyes on you while you play with your cunt, you want to be seen, you want to cum in front of someone else. “Do you have a hand on your cunt again?” you hear Michael’s voice from the phone, and you blush. “Yes,” you whisper, “I do.” “Well don’t, Love. For the next 24 hours, you are not to play with yourself. Of better, you are not to cum. You can play all you want, but no orgasms. “So, back to business. As I said, tomorrow you will turn your husband on, then give him some sleeping pills to make him tired. When he goes to bed, you will wait an hour or two before you follow him. That should be around 10 p.m. by then. Before you go to bed, make sure to unlock the back patio door. Then, try to go to sleep. “Around midnight you will get some visitors. Me and the boys are going to come by and sneak in the back. We will come up to the bedroom, and you will not do anything. Pretend you don’t hear us, pretend you’re sleeping, and we’ll go from there. Do you understand? Any questions?” “Well, why shall I turn on my husband if I just put him to sleep with the pills then? And what are you going to do when you get there? Why are you doing….” “Shut up, Fran. Those are not the kind of questions I was talking about. Never mind why I want you to do all this, I just want to know if you understand ‘what’ you are supposed to do.” You think about it, but his instructions are pretty clear, even if you don’t understand the purpose behind them, so you tell Michael that you understand, and that you will do as you are told. “That’s diyarbakır escort a good girl, Fran. Now you better go and get your hubby and go to bed. Get some sleep, Love, you’ve got a long night ahead of you tomorrow,” he laughs. Before you can respond, he hangs up. — The next day, you get the sleeping pills from a girlfriend of yours, and spend the rest of the day wondering what the boys have planned for that night. It is pretty clear to you that you will get fucked, and you can’t stop thinking about it. How many are going to come? All six of them? Are they all going to use you? Your pussy tingles in anticipation the whole day, and you have to force yourself to remember Michael’s warning about not masturbating. You don’t quite get it. Why don’t you masturbate? Michael would never know. You feel somewhat depraved for following the orders of a young boy, orders concerning your sexuality, and yet this feeling excites you even more. The day passes rather slowly for you. A half hour before Harold normally comes home, you go upstairs and get dressed in the clothes you laid out earlier. As per your instructions, you wear a very tight and short skirt, a new pair of stockings you bought only that day, and a white, rather innocent looking blouse, that is two sizes too small for you and really shows off your impressive breasts. Because of the small size of the blouse, you are unable to close all the buttons anyway, so you won’t have to worry about opening any before Harold comes home. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you can almost see the tops of your stockings sticking out under the short skirt, and your blouse looks as though it is going to burst at the seams at any second. Under your skirt, you wear a pair of bright red lace panties, which will show up nicely against the black skirt and the black stockings. Anyone getting a glimpse under your skirt won’t have any problems spotting the panties immediately, and for a moment you are tempted to quickly go and show off your outfit at the grocery store, but you decide that you won’t have enough time before your husband is due to arrive. When Harold finally walks in the door, his eyes almost fall out as he sees your outfit. He hasn’t seen you in anything this sexy in years. You pretend that you went through some old clothing and that you are not quite sure if they still fit, and that you wanted his opinion on the matter. You ask if, since all of the clothes are too tight, you should change, and of course he assures you that everything looks great. “Oh please, Hon, just stay as you are, it looks wonderful on you.” It never even occurs to him to question your lame story, but then, men are so stupid when it comes to women. At least, your husband is. For two hours, you mercilessly tease him. Just walking around in those clothes, on high heels on top of everything else, is enough to drive any man watching you crazy, but you don’t stop there. Constantly, you are dusting, picking up, bending over, reaching for things on top shelves and once even climbing on a ladder to dust a ceiling fan. His eyes never leave your body while you shamelessly try to drive your husband wild. Yet, each time he tries to grab hold of you, you ask him to wait until later. It’s too early, you still need to make dinner, it’s still light out…. all rather strange reasons not to have sex but, as he is clearly enjoying the show, he doesn’t press you too hard. Ha, not as hard as his cock pressing against his trousers, you think to yourself. At dinner, you drop two of the sleeping pills into his beer, and he drinks it without the slightest bit of suspicion. It doesn’t take long for his speech to slur, and soon he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. Mumbling some apology he crawls rather than walks up to the bedroom. A few minutes later you can hear his snoring. Not even eight yet. Four hours to go. The evening drags along. You can’t concentrate on the TV, so you go on the computer and read some stories on Lit, but those just make you jumpy. The things the men in the stories do with the women…. surely, the boys aren’t going to do anything like that to you? The tingle you feel rushing through your body doesn’t tell you if you are afraid, or if you are looking forward to it. Around ten you join your husband, who is still snoring loudly, in bed, but try as you may you are unable to go to sleep. Your right hand playing with the soft folds of your pussy lips isn’t helping you sleep either, but you can’t stop. No, be honest with yourself: you don’t want to stop. You start imagining the boys storming into the bedroom, discovering you, your nightgown pulled up above your belly button, playing with yourself. You smile as you imagine what Harold would think if he woke up now and saw you. — Against all odds you must have fallen asleep at some point. A creaking noise from the stairs wakes you up, and your heart starts beating faster. This is it, you think. Slowly, the bedroom door opens, and against the night light in the hallway you can see a number of dark shapes, first standing in front of the door, then creeping into the bedroom. You recognize Michael, who comes to you and puts his finger on your lips. “Psst, not a sound. For now, you don’t know me, you’ve never seen me,” he says, and you nod. Two of the shapes move to your husband’s side of the bed and, before Harold even wakes up, haul him out of bed and tie him securely to a chair in his pyjamas. One of the boys turns on the ceiling light, and the light finally rips Harold completely from his d**g induced sleep. “What the hell… what’s going on here? Who are you guys? What do you want from us? Fran? Fran, are you okay? Untie me, you bastards, or…” “Or what?” Michael asks quietly. “Or you’re gonna call the police? Your gonna beat me up? What? What are you going to do, old man? Just shut up and be quiet, else we’ll have to be a bit rough with you and the missus here, capisce?” Harold nods. He’s never been one for fights, and the sheer number of attackers quickly dampens his spirit as he slumps down in his chair. The boys rummage around in your night tables and dresser, then move on to the bathroom. You see that there are six of them, but since they are wearing masks over their faces you cannot make out who is who, except for Michael, who is the only one without a disguise. After a few minutes, the boys come back into the bedroom and shake their heads at Michael, who turns around to face Harold and ask: “Where is your money?” “Money? We don’t have any money in the house! I’ve got a twenty in my wallet, but that’s about it.” “What about jewelry? You must have something. Stocks, bonds?” Harold shakes his head. “What about you, bitch? You got anything that’s worth something?” You shake your head. “Some costume jewelry only, but it’s not worth much. Anything we have is at the bank, in a safe deposit box,” you reply. Michael is facing you with his back towards your husband, and you see him wink at you. ‘Don’t worry,’ he seems to say, ‘all part of the game.’ “Shit,” he says out loud. “All for nothing? I was told that you have cash at the house, and jewelry and stuff.” He turns to one of the other boys. “Nothing at all?” The boy shakes his head theatrically, and Michael returns to face you. He lets his eyes roam up and down your body, clad in only a thin white nightgown. “Get up,” he orders you, and you comply. “Stand over there by the night table.” As he is looking at you, you realize that, standing in front of the lamp on the night table, your gown must appear quite see-through. “Not bad,” Michael smiles. “What do you think, guys? There might be something worth taking after all, eh?” Harold sees the dirty grin on Michael’s face and knows immediately what he is thinking. “Leave my wife alone, you bastards. We don’t have anything worth stealing, so just leave while you still have the chance.” Michael ignores him. He looks at you with eyes similar to what you saw in your husband’s eyes earlier. “Take that thing off.” You swallow and look at your husband, but Michael doesn’t give you a chance to think. Quickly he pulls out a large knife from somewhere and holds it threateningly in front of you. “Strip, cutie, or else I’ll do it for you.” Despite Harold’s protests, you grab the bottom of your nightgown and raise it up over your head. Within seconds, you stand completely naked in front of the six boys. And your husband. “Get on the bed, baby, show us what you got.” You hesitate, and Michael continues: “You don’t want us to hurt you, do you?” “I… I don’t care, you pigs. I’m not going to…” you start, when Michael nods to the two boys still standing behind your husband. You see that they also have large knives in their hands. “Do you want us to hurt your hubby? Hm?” You shake your head. “If you don’t want us to hurt him, you will do exactly as I say, is that clear? Now get on the fucking bed and spread your legs and show us your kitty!” Trembling, you climb up onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “No, Fran, don’t do it!” Harold cries out, but you don’t have a choice. Not because of the knives, not because of anything here, tonight. These boys own you, and you have to do as they say if you don’t want the pictures and videos shown everywhere. And besides, hasn’t your pussy already told you that this is exactly what you want? “I’m sorry, Hon, I have to. I can’t let them hurt you,” you assure Harold, and then someone gags your husband with one of his neck ties to stop any further protests. You can still hear his muffled protests as you spread your legs for the boys. Though they have seen you like this before you can still feel yourself blush as you let them inspect your body. “Hm,” Michael tells Harold, “you’ve got a pretty wife there. Bet you fuck her all the time, don’t you? How about it, Sweetheart, does he fuck you often?” “No.” “No? How often does he fuck you?” “Maybe every couple of weeks,” you mumble. You don’t care about telling Michael, but you would much rather do it where your husband can’t hear you. Michael doesn’t seem to care. “Every couple of weeks? What do you do then? Do you suck his cock often?” You only shake your head. “You don’t suck him off either? Does he at least lick your cunt every day?” Another shake of your head. “No, he doesn’t like that much.” “How can anyone not like that wet snatch of yours? fethiye escort You must be very horny, girl. When was the last time you had an orgasm?” You are not quite sure what Michael wants you to say, so you decide to go with the truth. “Day before yesterday.” You can see Harold’s head turning at that admission. Michael smiles. “Two days ago, and he only fucks you every few weeks. So you masturbated?” Nod. “How often?” “T… t… three,” you stutter, and Harold’s eyes almost fall out of his head. “Three times, wow. Did you use a toy, or just your fingers?” Michael wants to know. When you admit to using a vibrator, he makes you get it out of your night table where it is hidden underneath your panties. Harold can’t speak with the gag, but you know what he wants to say: I didn’t know you had that! Michael smiles at you. “Show us.” “What?” “Show us! Show us how you use it, how you make yourself cum.” “Here? Now? No, I can’t…” “Do it for your hubby, Love. Do it know, or we’re going to beat the crap out of him. You don’t really want us to hurt him, do you?” “No.” You wet your lips. You have never masturbated in front of your husband, and now you’re supposed to do it in front of all of them. You honestly don’t know if you can, but when your fingers touch your clit, and you see the eyes of all seven of them glued to your cunt, you feel a charge running through your body like a lightning bolt, and you realize that you not only can, but want to do this. You find yourself spreading your legs further to allow everybody the best possible view, and you let your fingers find their rhythm as your mind roams freely. ‘Yes,’ you think, ‘watch me, look at me. God, I like it when you look at me. I want to see the desire, the hunger in your eyes. I can see it! You want me. Me! and only me. I can see your cocks pressing into the front of your pants, and I know you are hard for ME, for MY cunt. Can you see how wet I am already? I’m almost there, I’m almost cumming, and it hasn’t even been five minutes. I’m going to cum for you! Look at me, watch me cum, watch me play with my cunt for you. Are you going to cum in your pants while you watch me? Am I making you hot? Yes, I am, I can see it, and I love it. I want it, I think I’m going to…’ At that moment, two of the boys carry the chair with Harold sitting to the bed and position it right at the foot of the bed, with Harold facing you. The boys proceed to cut Harold’s pajama pants from his body and in no time he is sitting in front of you naked, and to your surprise you see that his cock is standing straight up. When you raise your head, you look straight into your husband’s eyes. You feel ashamed, masturbating in front of him, you want to stop, but you are so close, so… almost…. And then you cum, an orgasm like never before. You literally scream out your pleasure, not caring who hears you, but very much caring who sees you. You drink the stares of your audience in like fine wine while wave after wave of pleasure ripples through your body, until you finally, after what seems an eternity, lie there, spent, your juices flowing out of your wide open gash. Then, a voice: “Our turn.” One by one, the boys open their pants and remove their cocks from their prisons. Some leave the shirts on, some the socks, one is even too impatient to take off his shoes, but all of them get out of their pants in record time. The first jumps right on top of you, points his cock at your pussy and enters you in one swift stroke. You are so wet that his cock slides right in to the hilt, and he starts pounding you. Two of the others position themselves on the bed to your left and right and place their hard cocks in your hands. Without thinking you start jerking them off as well as you can with the feelings from the hard fucking you receive. The guy in your cunt cums within a couple of minutes and is replaced right away by another, slightly larger and longer dick. Michael positions himself at the top of the bed above your head, his cock pointing at your mouth. You slide your tongue over the underside of his prick, since you can’t get him into your mouth because of the awkward angle. Lying on the bed with a dick in each hand, licking over a third, and being fucked by a fourth, you cannot help yourself and soon start moaning with pleasure. Joey, the young boy with the huge cock, is the only one who hasn’t touched you. He stands, playing with himself, beside your husband at the foot of the bed, and you see him removing Harold’s gag. You expect your husband to raise a protest, to maybe yell for help, but he remains silent, staring at you with large, wide open eyes. “Look at her, Harold,” you hear Joey say into your husbands ear. “Looks like she is enjoying herself, isn’t she?” You feel ashamed, and with the last little bit of energy you have left you start to protest that you are only doing it for Harold, only to prevent them from hurting him. “Yeah, right,” Joey smiles. “Look at her pushing back while she’s being fucked. Does she ever do that with you, man? Look at how she fucks him. Doesn’t she look like a total slut, with one cock in her cunt, and one in each hand? And licking and sucking on another one? Remember how she played with her cunt earlier, in front of all of us? How she came, how loud she was? You didn’t know that she does this every couple of days, but she admitted it, remember? Your wife is a slut, Harold, a total and utter slut. “In school, she lets us look up her skirt, and she shows us her titties, too. And if we’re really good, she sucks us off, right there in class. The other day, we were complaining about how boring the stuff was she was trying to teach us, and you know what she said?” You can see the interest in Harold’s face. He wants Joey to continue, and he does. “She said that if we’re good, if we pay attention, she would do the class naked. She stripped, Harold, right in front of us, totally naked. And then she stood there and talked about history, and we just stared at her. We could see right between her legs, Harold. She showed us her cunt, that little slut. And then we told her we wanted to see her ass, and you know what? She turned around and bent over, just like we told her to. She did whatever we wanted, Harold, for the whole two hours of the class. Oops, look, I think she is going to cum, Harold.” He is right! You can’t take the vicious pounding from your young stud anymore, and with a loud scream you surrender to your orgasm at the same time the boy cums deep inside your cunt. You are disappointed when he pulls out while you are still cumming, but he is almost immediately replaced by one of the guys you have been giving a hand job. “Hm, the slut came, Harold. She is being fucked here in front of you, and she cums, with you watching. “She sucked our cocks, Harold, and we came all over her face and her tits and her body. The only thing she wouldn’t do is fuck us, Harold, and that’s what we’re doing now. But only because she is such a slut, because she seduced us. Has she ever done that with you, Harold? Has she ever teased you until you couldn’t take it anymore?” “Yes.” What? You don’t believe your ears. Did your husband just say you were a tease? And then you remember: yes, you have done just that, today. Because Michael told you to do it, sure, but you were the one doing it. And really, was that any excuse? I did it because one of my students told me to do it? And you did enjoy it, every minute of it. And you still do. When you look again at your husband, you see his cock, hard as a rock, pointing straight at you. Harold was actually getting off on this, on your being used by these young studs for their pleasure, and by the stories Joey whispered in his ear. For almost two hours the boys fuck you, one after the other. Not a minute goes by were you don’t have a cock somewhere inside of you, and most of the time two or even three. They change your position on the bed slightly so that, as soon as one is done fucking you, he can squirm to the head of the bed and put his soft cock into your mouth to suck him hard again while somebody else replaces him in your pussy. You lose track of how many times you cum. The whole time, whenever you have a chance to look up, you see your husband sitting there with a hard-on while you are being fucked. You can see his cock twitching whenever someone cums on you, and when the first of the boys uses your ass instead of your cunt, it looks like he will cum without anyone touching him. Eventually, you think you are done. You are so wrong. “Get off the bed and over to your hubby,” Michael ordered. “No, don’t get up, crawl over to him, on hands and knees. That’s a good girl!” When you reach your position in front of your husband’s chair, Michael is beside you. The instructions he whispers into your ear make you shudder, and you look at him, pleading wordlessly to not make you do this. Michael only nods his head slowly, and you know you will obey. You position your cum splattered body a couple of meters away from the chair, on your back, your legs pointing towards Harold. Looking into his eyes, you spread your thighs as far as possible to display your swollen cunt lips to your husband. Your left hand toys with your nipples while your right begins rubbing your clit. “This, Harold, is…” Michael interrupts you, “Louder!”, and you begin again. “This, Harold, is what I did. In front of the boys at school. I masturbated for them, and I loved it. I…” You swallow before continuing. “I came in front of them, Harold, multiple times. They made me do it, but I also wanted to do it. I rubbed my cunt while they watched, and while I made myself cum, they jerked off over me. And I sucked…” Your breathing becomes ragged and your fingers fly over your clit as your orgasm overcomes you by surprise. You cum very hard and long, the whole time looking into your husband’s eyes. It takes a couple of minutes before you are able to continue. “I sucked their cocks for them, while I played with myself. I just made myself cum, remembering how their cocks felt in my mouth, and how I felt as they watched me masturbate. I just followed orders, Harold. I wanted to! It makes me so hot, having guys tell me what to do. I did everything they told me, and I loved every second of it. “I would have done more, Harold. If they had told edirne escort me, I would have fucked them. I would have fucked anybody. I would have let them do whatever they wanted, just like tonight. And I’m going to do it again, too. I will go back to school, and I will strip, in class, in front of the boys, and they will get horny and they will use me like the wanton slut that I am. I am going to come home with their cum on my body, and my own juices dripping down my legs, Harold. “When I go to work in the morning, you will know this. You will know that I’m not wearing underwear under my conservative clothes. You will know that your slut wife is not wearing panties, and that I am going to be naked in front of my class soon, and that, no matter what they tell me to do, I will do it.” “That was very good, Mrs. Fran, very very good indeed. Now lets see if you really mean that.” Michael gives Joey a sign to come closer. The poor boy was the only one who still had not cum at all, and he looks very happy when Michael motions for him. When his big cock comes into view from behind Harold’s chair, both you and your husband gasp, but for very different reasons: you, with anticipation and a little fear, Harold with complete and utter dread. “Now get on your hands and knees facing poor Harold here.” You comply, and Joey positions himself behind you on his knees. You shudder when the head of his cock touches the entrance to your pussy. Joey pushes harder, but as well lubricated as you are, both from your own orgasms as well as the boys cumming all over you, he still has difficulties entering you. When the tip of his huge member is finally inside you, you start really pushing back; you have never felt so filled before, so utterly under a man’s control, and you are loving every second of it. Harold, on the other hand, can hardly believe his eyes as his demure wife is on hands and knees in front of him, getting fucked by a boy not even half her age, and looking at her husband as she screams with pleasure. It takes Joey almost five minutes to work his cock all the way inside of you, and during that time you cum twice. Harold begs you to stop, but that only makes you even hornier. “Come on, Joey, push it in. Fuck me, Joey, fuck me harder. Oh God, Joey, that cock of yours is so big, it feels so good. Fuck, Joey, fuck me, I’m going to cum again, Joey, yes, fuck me, fuck… me… yes…” Amazingly, Joey still holds back, probably realizing that, if he fucked you the way you wanted, he would split your pussy in half. You don’t want him to hold back, though. You want him to fuck you for real, hard and fast and brutal. When Michael gives you the sign, you crawl forward a bit, Joey following, never breaking contact with your cunt, continuing to slowly fuck you, until you are able to reach Harold’s cock. “Do you want me to suck you, Honey? Do you want me to lick your cock? Want me to take your dick deep into my mouth and suck you off?” Harold’s cock twitches with a live of it’s own, while Harold tries to look away from the boy kneeling behind you, now picking up the pace a bit more until you have trouble to continue. “Oh God, Harold, he is fucking me so good, Honey. Do you want me to blow you, while he fucks me? You have to say it, you know? I’m not allowed to suck your cock until you ask me. I know you want to cum, Harold. You must be half crazy by now. Did you like seeing your wife being fucked, Harold? I think you enjoyed it! Your cock was so hard, the whole time they used me. Every time they came on me, or in me, I saw your cock get even harder. You really liked that, didn’t you? You liked your wife being used by them?” Harold swallows in an attempt to moisten his dried out throat. He is unable to speak, but he tries, unsuccessfully, to move forward in the chair to reach your mouth. “No, no, Harold, you can’t do that. You have to tell me what you want. Come on, Honey, don’t you want me to lick your cock, to suck on it, to lick your balls? To take you deep into my hot, wet mouth? To fuck my face, until you cum? You must be so horny. Oh, Joey, yes, that’s it, yes. Deeper, Lover, fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it.” You feel Joey’s cock deeper than you have ever felt anything in your cunt, and you still want more. Another orgasm shakes your body as Joey slowly increases his speed, and Harold moans in front of you, begging you with his eyes to give him relief. “Wow, Harold, I just came again. Are you enjoying this, your little wife being fucked in front of you? Cumming in front of you, while another man fucks me? Oh God, Harold, he can fuck me forever. I’m gonna cum again soon, you know? It’s not going to take long, Honey, I can already… oh, I can already feel it, I’m…. oh God, I’m… I’m cumming, Harold, I’m cumming…” “You whore!” Harold suddenly screams in a hoarse voice. “Suck my cock, you slut! I can’t take it any more, suck me, suck my cock now, come on!” His words have an effect on Joey, who starts fucking you faster, pumping his cock deeper into your well-stretched cunt, forcing you immediately to cum again. While you mumble something about loving it, you take Harold’s cock into your mouth. Joey has apparently only waited for this moment as his cock starts driving in and out of your pussy like a freight train, pumping and pushing and shoving deeper and harder than ever. With your husband’s cock deep in your mouth, you cum again and again as Joey finally loses control and fucks you without regard for your pleasure, ramming his enormous cock into you, bottoming out, and still pushing harder as if he is trying to come out of your mouth again. With a loud, roaring scream, Harold shoots his load down your throat, pushing against your mouth as much as he can to bury himself a little deeper inside you. At the other end, Joey does the same thing, flooding your cunt with his hot sperm, never stopping, never slowing down, his cock never even going soft as he continues to fuck you until a second orgasm rips through him and your cunt is flooded again by this second, only slightly smaller load, while you scream, your husband’s semi-erect cock still in your mouth, writhing on Joey’s long pole, pushing your ass back trying to take more of him, while cumming and cumming and cumming…. When it i finally over, the boys leave you alone with your husband still tied to the chair. “You untie him when you’re ready, Fran, but only after you suck his dick again,” Michael says before leaving. “See you in school, day after tomorrow?” You just nod, too weak to speak, while Harold violently shakes his head ‘no’. A half hour later you are finally able to move again, and your first action is to crawl over to Harold again, who sits in his chair looking like a beaten puppy. “Harold?” You lick your lips seductively. “Harold?” Nothing, no reaction. “Haaaarold?” You smile. “Harold, did you like that? Do you want me to suck your cock again, Harold?” Still nothing. “Look at me, Harold. Look at me! Did you like me being the boy’s little fuck-toy, Harold? Look at me, I’m covered in their cum, Harold. They fucked me so long, and I came so often, Harold. Do you like the way I look, Harold? Do you like it when I have cum running down my body….” ‘His cock is growing,’ you think to yourself, ‘he’s definitely getting bigger again.’ “…dripping of my chin, my boobs, and my ass? Look at my cunt, Harold. Look at the cum running down my thighs, Harold.” Against his will, Harold’s eyes are drawn to your wet body, displayed in the lewdest possible position in front of him. And his cock is growing, getting harder and longer and thicker. “In a couple of days, I’m going to be standing in the classroom again, Harold. In front of the boys.” And he is still growing. “Naked, Harold. I’ll be standing in front of them naked. I’m going to spread me legs for them, and they can see what you are looking at now.” Harold is definitely staring between your legs at your swollen pussy now, his cock back to full hardness as you seductively licked your lips. “I will probably have to masturbate for them, Harold. They will tell me what to do, and I will have to do it. You never told me what to do, Harold. You always let me do what I wanted. But I need it, Harold, I need a strong man telling me what to do. I like being told what to do, Harold.” His cock is rock hard by now. “I love doing things that men tell me to do, Harold. The meaner, the dirtier they are, the more I like it. It makes me feel so slutty, Harold, to do things that I normally would never do. I’m not in control, Harold, and I don’t have to feel guilty. I do what I’m told, like a…” Harold moans quietly, while his cock twitches in front of your mouth. “…like a whore, Harold. They tell me what to do, and I do it like a whore. Only I don’t get paid with money for it. I do it because I love it, because it makes me cum like I’ve never cum before, Harold. My cunt gets wet again just thinking about how I will have to follow orders. How I have to display myself for them, how I’ll have to suck their cocks, how I will have to fuck them.” “Sck m,” Harold whispers. “What, Honey? I didn’t hear you?” “Suck me,” he yells. “Suck my cock, you slut. I want to cum!” “But Harold! I can’t just do that, can I? You want me to just do that? You want me to just suck your cock, because…. Why, Harold? Why should I do that?” “Because…. because I’m telling you to do it. Suck my cock, now.” “You’re telling me to suck you, Harold?” You lower your mouth to your husband’s cock, taking him into your mouth. “Yes,” he moans. “Yes, take my cock in your mouth. Deeper, yes, like that. Use your tongue. Make it nice and wet. I want to hear you slurping on it. I want to see you do it, and I want to hear it.” You comply, deeply taking his penis into your mouth, slurping, sucking, bobbing your head up and down, as Harold continues to give you instructions on how to suck his cock. You smile up at him. “That’s it, yes, that’s good. Lick a little more, yes, right there. Oh yeah, suck on it. And play with your pussy while you do it, you little slut.” You stop what you are doing for a few seconds, and, looking deep into your husband’s eyes, you say the words you’ve been wanting to say all your life: “Yes, Master.” And as your mouth continues to follow your master’s instructions, you both smile. Within seconds, you finger yourself to another small orgasm as Harold shoots into your mouth again. And before you untie him from the chair, Harold gives you another instruction: “And yes, you will go to school, and you will follow the boy’s orders. You will do whatever they tell you, and at night, every night, you will tell me all about it.”

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