Part One Here
Part Two Here
Part Three Here
Claudia was an engima, unknowable. Everything about her was abstract – Mister described her body in great, unending detail, but brown eyes, black hair and a smile lighting the way for years didn’t paint a clear picture in Puppy’s mind.
Until one day, when everything changed. She answered her door at 8pm that night, and he was on her doorstep.
“Run upstairs and slip into that nightie I bought you. The one a size too small that shows your tits and belly. And put make up on. Red lipstick and lots of eyeliner and mascara. You have ten minutes. No bra, no knickers.” and he stood on the doorstep, watching her scamper to the bedroom.
She looked beautiful on her return – a different beautiful to her face when she opened the door. A different beautiful to the way her lips distorted with his cock in her mouth. A different beautiful to her sleepy morning selfies.
She stood before him proudly, hands clasped behind her back. The darker skin of her nipples highlighted behind the white chiffon-y material. Her belly protruded and he couldn’t help reaching out to stroke her. She smiled wider. Mister smiled wider, too.
He smiled as he spat in his palm, reached out and smeared her hastily made-up face into a red and black halloween mask.
“Coat on; come with me.”
Part One Here Part Two Here
Sometimes she wanted him to go down on her because he wanted to, not because she wanted to come. Not because the thought of his handsome face, his stubble burning her inner thighs made her melt and shudder, though it did. Of course it did.
She wanted him to go down on her and eat her cunt and not care if she came or not. Actively avoid the things he knew would make her climax. Though her clit ached and her cunt grasped, his face nuzzled possessively between her thighs was powerful enough. She wanted him to press the flat of his tongue against her vulva and lick her with fury, not delicacy. With taunting, grim determination to taste every inch of her; her enjoyment irrelevant.
Swipes would be made at her pulsing, reddening nerve endings but only enough to make her twitch, and this was an excuse to hold her tighter, place the full weight of his body against her parted thighs and raise his head long enough to hiss “Keep still you little bitch.” before descending to torture her once more.
Read Part One Here
And so that Wednesday night she sat with her scissors and a book in her lap, reading through the middle chapters of a slight paperback from Grandad’s stash. A sub-Bond spy novella where the hero ended each chapter balls deep in a beautiful woman. All fucking, all cock in cunt action; the occasional bitten nipple or slapped arse but nothing more intriguing.
Still, as she read the passages, and cut around the dirty words, she thought of her Mister, who was somewhere, nibbling Claudia’s tender skin. She pulled up her t shirt and snapped a photo of her tits, not artistic but laced with urgency, and sent it to him, knowing he wouldn’t reply. A reply would break the spell.
The first in a series of short scenes from an imagined cuckquean relationship
She has sat on her hands until they are numb, willing herself to leave him be. He has not asked her to. He hasn’t asked her for anything, Today is Wednesday; he’s seeing Claudia. Claudia is being taken to dinner and Puppy is sitting at home in her room. She is not allowed to know where they are going. Last week they went to the theatre; it was only four days later he told Puppy what they had seen, how he had enjoyed it.
He had told her how she had brought him off during the second act – how he spat in her palm as the crowd laughed and she worked it around his cock with glee. When he came, he wiped the resultant mess over her face and walked her brazenly out into the street with white splashes of semen adorning her otherwise unremarkable face.