My Cum Eating Husband - Sex Stories

My Cum Eating Husband

... maybe worried. Whether it was about the phone, the garage door being open or my little act, I wasn't certain, and it didn't matter just now. I backed away to capture him in full.

"You know what I expect you to do after you cum?" I asked.

He nodded his head. Oh, Steven. I understood at that moment his kink more than I ever had before.

"Tell me how the story ends. Youknow you want to tell me."

"I'll lick my cum from you," he said, casting his eyes to the side.

He was so cute about it. "Look at the phone."

He did. Still stroking, poor guy.

"Yes, you will lick your cum from me, and why will you do that?"

"Because I love it when you make me eat my cum."

"Steven, you're my cum-eating husband aren't you?"

"Yes"

"Say, it."

"I'm... your... cum-eating husband." He said it in breaths, stroking his cock hard.

"And whose idea was it that I should make you eat your cum?" I asked.

"Mine."

Damn I had to go! But I couldn't stop. "And how much of it?"

"All of it," he said, like a teenager acknowledging a chore. And it probably would be by the time he was done.

"Every trail, every drop, everysmear, isn't that right?"

"Yes," he said, his tone and face a conflict of shame and excitement.

"Look at you, standing here, all naked. Your cock looks so hard it could snap. You've been waiting five days. You want this badly, don't you?"

"Yes,please. I can't take this much longer."

What a powerful thing a kink is. Or, maybe just an ...

... erection.

"Stay there until the garage door is closed," I said. I got into the car and quickly placed my phone in the holder, pointing it towards him over the dash. I backed out slowly to capture his concern as he looked past my car, but I quickly pressed the garage door button as I cleared the door. I knew the neighbors better than he did, and I didn't really want them seeing him... that way.

He would have a long wait ahead for relief. And, I realized, so did I. I turned the camera function off and used the Kleen-ex to tidy myself and hopefully not wet my skirt. Ugh. Any more than it was.

***

The day with my customer began well as I mentioned the homes that we would see today. Paul was speculating that we were would get to know each other very well through the week the way things were going. I noted an element of hopefulness the way he said it, and didn't want to dwell on why he might. In any case, I was confident that the houses we would visit would be better as I had learned more details of his preferences and was hopeful it wouldn't take the full week for him to choose one he liked. But if it did, he was good company.

And to that point, a thought kept nudging my head. I didn't dress provocatively, but... maybe I overdid it? Yesterday, he had followed me room by room, which in itself was typical. Still, that feeling... He seemed to keep an optimal distance for checking me out, but I could feel him checking out my ass and calves, especially when we climbed stairs.

On ...