“Yeah, you can fuck me in the ass,” I said with a grin from my throne. He was totally enamored by the sight of my bare pussy glistening in the warm candlelight a mere foot in front of his face. “But first,” I went on, giving my clit ring a gentle twist, “you have to suck my husband’s cock.”
The boyishly-handsome toy hesitated, but I wasn’t worried. I leaned forward, reminding him of the massive breasts being held aloft by my corset.
“You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” I reached forward and traced a gloved finger along the line of his jaw, down his neck, then on to the solid muscles of his chest. He shook his head and I smiled. “Good.” I leaned back in my massive chair, crossed my legs at the knees, and waved him away to where my husband was stroking his cock behind this young stud.
I wasn’t particularly interested in watching a man receive fellatio from another man, but my husband of three years has a bisexual streak in him that comes out every once in a while. I’m happy to let him indulge in it because more than anything it just makes him want me more. Even now his eyes were on me as the younger male dropped to his knees and shyly took my husband’s dick in his hand.
“Make sure he doesn’t swallow your come, darling. I want a taste.” Grinning broadly, my husband asked the male if he understood. He nodded before opening his mouth and licking the tip of the cock before him.
It wasn’t long before my husband was gripping the other male’s head and moaning loudly into the incense-thick air of our little love-den. My husband is so beautiful when he comes, so masculine.
When the male’s head was released, he stood up and hurried over to where I still sat my throne. The chair was raised enough so that while sitting, I was still eye-level with the person standing before me. It also made it convenient for when that person was kneeling before my throne. I sat forward as the male approached, his eyes still glazed with disbelief and surprise excitement. His cock was still very hard. I met his lips, pried them open with my tongue, and accepted the offering of my husband’s semen.
“Good boy,” I said, licking my lips. “Go lie down on the floor. I’ll be with you shortly.” My husband passed him as he approached my dais and knelt before me. “Tell me, my darling; is our little toy a good cocksucker?” I watched as the male lowered himself to the floor, his cock the only thing left standing.
“Almost adequate,” my husband said simply. “I had to think about you in order to bring myself to climax.”
“Noted,” I said, rising from the chair. Even without the added height of the chair, I am an imposing woman. I stand over six feet tall, with a slender, athletic figure. My legs are exceptionally long and my ass is perfectly round and full. My breasts are a natural D-cup, still untouched by the greedy pull of gravity. My silky, raven black hair cascades down my shoulders and back in a fall of loose curls, framing a sharp-featured, elven face. I’ve been told I am more beautiful than most supermodels, but they have no idea. I am not simply a beautiful woman; I am a nymph, a goddess, whose sole purpose is to inspire and bathe in the lustful attentions of men and women alike.
And that is just what I had on my mind as I sauntered over to where this young male lay expectantly on the floor. I stood above him, a 4-inch heel to either side of his waist, and again his eyes were drawn to the smooth, damp folds of flesh glistening lazily between my long legs. There was so much to do before I even gave him the chance to touch me, however.
As I stood over him, my husband stepped up behind me, caressed the curves of my narrow, constricted waist, then lifted one of my stockinged legs. I could feel the length of his arousal against my nether lips, so I let our little boy-toy watch as I stroked the shaft of my husband’s cock with my pussy, tilting my hips back and forth, coating him with my desire. Moaning softly, I reached back and hooked my arm around his neck, turning just enough to let him enter me with a sigh.
It would be a long night; I hope our toy can last.
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