Reluctant Loving Cuckoldress - Sex Stories

Reluctant Loving Cuckoldress

... know this may sound cruel. But it is not, considering. Considering how many stories he had favorited which included "forced" creampie clean-up by the story's protagonist. And note he did not protest.

The selfish aspect was one which had been mentioned in many of the stories also. We were trading, in effect. I had spent years hopping out of bed to run to the bathroom and clean up the mess inside of me, on my snatch, and sticking to my thighs. Now (I was giddy thinking about it) I would never, ever do that again. I could relax in bed while my happy husband cleaned up the mess for me!

I wriggled out of my shorts, exposing my newly bare nether regions. I had shaved for the first time after discovering how good cunnilingus could feel.

I spread my thighs and pointed down to my moist sex. "Time for pussy practice, honey..."

As I felt his mouth touch my labia, I moaned. Not because of his talents, but because it made me recall Malcolm's talents. Trent had a long way to go before he equalled my new lover. But I was determined.

I placed my hands on the back of his head to guide him. "Just so you know, honey... that cage does not come off... you do not cum... until you get a passing grade. Until you are as good as Malcolm." Now I heard him moan.

For the next hour Trent remained between my thighs. He seemed highly motivated. Was it being relieved of the normally expected anticipation of intercourse? Was it the chastity? Was it the need to eventually match Malcolm so he ...

... could cum? When I later asked him, he said it was all of these, plus he had always fantasized about being used as a pussy slave but had worried I would think he was sick because I did not do oral.

Well hell. With what I knew now, I was only too happy to fulfill his fantasy.

Poor Trent (and poor Grace.) He just did not know what he was doing. I would think he had found my clitoris, I would begin to build towards an orgasm, then he would change his focus and I would lose it. He would lick my labia like he was trying to kill an ice cream cone, overdoing it so that I felt nothing. He was trying, but he just was not getting me there.

After that hour of going up and down the hill, but never getting over it, I pushed him away gently. The disappointment in his eyes at having failed was sad.

I knew after he read all those stories, he had to know what the parts of my lady parts were. But he apparently did not understand how they felt on his tongue, or what to do with them.

I used my fingers to point out where my labia were, telling him he had to be gentle and take his time. I pulled my petals apart and pointed out where my clit was. I told him to lean in and touch my fingertip with his tongue, then my bud, so he would know what it felt like. I told him it would also feel good if he put his tongue as far inside me as he could.

He began to start over, but I pushed him away gently. "I'm tired. I want you to read up on how to do it right, and you can try next time. Go get ...