When we heard the shouting begin from outside at the pool, my wife and I looked at each other, and I rolled my eyes. Things had been so peaceful and fun between our daughter and her friend up to then, but being girls, we knew the trouble from last summer could resurface quickly; girls, even girls who are friends, never forget when they’ve been wronged, and our daughter Rosie was no exception.
When the raised voices started cursing and shrieking, and it was mostly Rosie, we headed outside to split the girls up and try to stop the ruckus. I took Rosie downstairs to the den, and Monica took Desiree up to the bedroom, as far apart as we could get them and still be inside the house.
It was late afternoon and the girls had been hanging out by the pool, trading stories of school and friends and getting along fine, as they had since Desiree had arrived on Wednesday. It was Saturday, and Monica and I had hoped that we’d have some peace and quiet for the weekend; maybe the girls would go out and leave us alone. In the back of my mind that hope still existed, but only faintly now, as the shrieking insults had warned, and my daughter’s tears reinforced.
Rosie and Desiree had met in college their first year, and had been roommates for the last two years. They, along with one or two other girls, had been close friends, almost inseparable for those two years. Last summer three of them had arranged a six-week cross country trip, but it had fallen apart after only 4 weeks. The trouble started when the third girl had to go back home after 2 weeks on the road due to a family illness, leaving Desiree and Rosie to travel together alone for the next four. A week and a half later Rosie called the house in tears, begging my wife to fly her home, and she was home two days later.
She wouldn’t tell me what happened, but she told some of the story to Monica, who told me. Desiree, it seems, had a slightly more liberal view towards sexual relations than our daughter did, and had managed to meet school friends, guy school friends, in almost every city they stopped in. This hadn’t been an issue for the first two weeks while the other girl was still with them, because Rosie hung with the Sara while Desiree executed her ‘hook-ups’, as she called them.
But once Sara returned home the situation was impossible to overlook. Rosie was the third wheel, and Des didn’t seem inclined to forfeit her boy hunts. Several times in the week and a half she had left Rosie alone in a club or bar to find her way home by herself. We had always warned Rosie never to leave her friends alone. The capper was the night she brought a boy back to her room, and wanted to have sex with him in front of Rosie!
Now, Monica and I have been around the block, but we’ve never heard of such a thing. We know that college kids can get up to some antics, and we had heard that some girls went a little wild in college, but when Monica related the story Rosie told her, we just looked at each other in astonishment. We’d met Desiree when we brought Rosie to school for her second year; she was a boisterous take-charge type, but not obnoxious about it. She expressed her thoughts without being overpowering, was attractive and had a kind of magnetism that drew others to her; a natural leader. Monica seemed quiet around her, but talked about her much of the way home, and we’d seen her several times since: Rosie had talked about her and Sara all the time, but we never heard anything like that! She seemed like a regular girl, just a fun-loving happy kid.
Rosie, to her credit, stood her ground, but there was a huge fight, and she came home. She stayed pissed off for weeks, but as the new school year approached things seemed to settle down. Knowing she would have to live with Desiree for the school year, and time apart, helped heal the wounds and close the rift, and they were talking again before the semester began. There were no repeat events during the school year, and as the year ended Rosie invited her to come visit us over the summer at or house.
But, as I said, girls are girls, and while I had no idea what had started this argument, it seemed to be as heated as the one that had brought Rosie home from her trip in tears. I settled her on the couch, grateful that Monica had taken Desiree, because I knew that if the subject matter was similar, Rosie would have a difficult time discussing it with me, but I certainly preferred that to having to listen to her friend tell me her side!
Rosie was still steaming, but not saying anything. I allowed her to try to calm down, without offering anything, until I saw she wasn’t getting any less furious.
“Rosie,” I began, “I know you’re upset right now, but try to remember that Desiree is your friend.” Rosie turned her face away from me, not meeting my eyes. “I’m sure that whatever happened seems terrible, but try and take a few deep breaths.” I waited, but she didn’t react. “I don’t want to push,” I began, “but maybe it would help if you tell me what happened.”
She turned to face me, briefly, then looked past me, unable to hold my eyes. “No way, Dad,” she said without hesitation, “No way. I can’t.”
“Rosie, is it like what happened when you were away? Your mother told me some of what happened-”
“Dad.” She cut me off mid-sentence. “I can’t tell you, okay? I can’t. You don’t understand. You don’t know what she’s like.” Her words were stern, inviting no discussion.
“But she’s your friend, honey,” I tried to reason, “sometimes friends disagree.”
She stood, now looking down at me, meeting my eyes. “You don’t know,” she said, “you can’t understand, you don’t know what she’s like. Where is she? Is she with Mom?” She turned then, and began to pace. I watched her, waiting for more information, thinking the pacing might open her up. “Is she with Mom?” she asked again. “What are they doing?”
“I imagine they’re talking, or trying to, like we are,” I said. “Why don’t you just sit, and tell me what happened?”
“Dad,” she pleaded insistently, “I can’t. I can’t tell you. I- I’m so angry, I want to tell you, but I can’t. She’s- she’s so.” she stalled, then sat down heavily. “You don’t know how she is.” She looked around the room, eyes darting nervously, then looked at me. “Is she with Mom?”
“Yes, upstairs, I think. In the bedroom”
She stood again, launching herself from the sofa. “Oh, shit, you don’t understand, Dad, you don’t know. I can’t tell you, it’s — it’s –” she stalled again, facing me. “Make sure Mom is okay. I gotta go, I gotta leave. I’m going to Amanda’s house.” She turned and headed for the door. “Make sure Mom is okay; I gotta go, I gotta…”
And with a whirl she was gone. I sat, listening to the door close, and hearing her car start, wondering. Make sure Mom is okay? What, is Desiree a dangerous killer? That sweet little girl who had been hanging out with my daughter, who LIVES with my daughter and Sara at school? She’s just a kid, I reasoned, she can’t be more than a hundred and ten pounds, similar build to Rosie, but with dark straight hair. She was friendly, open and relaxed around us, and had taken to calling us Monica and Roy from the beginning. We had always been at ease around her, and she seemed, other than the unnerving tale of her sexual exploits last summer, a perfectly normal college student.
I assumed than that the argument had stemmed from a similar subject, and that Desiree might have suggested or done something that angered or frightened Rosie, something that abraded her sensibilities, made her nervous, or afraid. Monica and I knew that Rosie knew about sex, and we suspected that she had been active with at least one of her boyfriends; she wasn’t sheltered, and while she was clearly uncomfortable discussing sexual topics with me, she often discussed them with my wife, who told me the parts she felt I needed to know. I assured myself that Monica could handle whatever Desiree might say, and resigned myself to hearing about it later.
I got up, and went outside, and sat on one of the lounge chairs to enjoy the remains of the setting sun. At some point, I knew, Monica would come out, likely without Des, and tell me enough that I would understand what had happened. And eventually Rosie would return, after venting her spleen to her friend Amanda, and she would come back. Things would be tense between her and Desiree, and they would either cool off and make up, or Des would pack up and return home, and they would cool off apart from each other. I sat back and relaxed, and waited.
After about forty-five minutes I figured that was enough waiting. If there was something to say it had likely already been said, and if Monica was in there holding Des’s hand while she cried, well, then there needed to be an end to that, and Monica wouldn’t end it; she would feel bad and be too considerate to shut the girl down, I thought. She’d want me to interrupt, and create a stopping point. So I headed back into the house and made my way upstairs to the bedroom.
When I got there the door was open about halfway, and I was careful as I approached in case they were having a girl talk; I didn’t want to disturb them, so I peered around the door. Desiree was sitting on the far side of the bed, her back facing me, leaning back on her hands. I didn’t see Monica, so I listened to try to get a feel for the conversation before barging in.
“Yeah,” Desiree said quietly, and I thought she might be agreeing with some good advice Monica had given her. “Yeah,” she repeated, “oh, yeah, like that.”
I peered a little further around the corner, to see where my wife was, but didn’t see her. But looking at the situation it didn’t seem like there was a sensitive discussion going on, so I eased myself into the room and knocked lightly on the door. “Hey, you two,” I said, stepping inside, “everything okay?”
Monica turned to look at me over her shoulder. “Oh, hey Roy,” she said with just a hint of cunning, “come on in.” I stepped fully into the room, looking for my wife, and not seeing her. “Monica is busy,” she quipped. I was confused. Had Monica left? Then who was Desiree talking to? “You must really enjoy her,” she added with sincerity, “she’s so obedient, so willing.” She lifted an arm, and leaning on only her left one, moved the free arm in front of her. “Don’t stop,” she said, “I didn’t tell you to stop. There. That’s good, Monica, very good. Just like that.” I moved toward the foot of the bed, and froze to the spot as my vision cleared Desiree’s body. She was naked from the waist down, and my wife had her face between the young girl’s legs. Des used her free hand to stroke Monica’s hair, petting her like a dog.
I felt myself swoon, and my breath caught as panic and rage flooded me; my chest tightened and blood pounded in my head. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak; I just stared at the top of my wife’s head, buried in the pussy of our daughter’s friend. I heard a sound, a muffled cry, and Des wrapped her fingers in Monica’s hair and pulled her face up.
My wife was crying as she looked up at me, tears running down her face, her expression filled with fear, and shame and self-loathing. “Oh, Roy, I…” she whimpered.
“Monica!” I shouted, finally finding my voice, “What are you doing? What the fuck is… What the fuck is going on here?!” I took a step closer, but was stopped by Desiree’s upraised hand.
“Hold it there, Roy.” For some reason I did, frozen again, and watched as Desiree put her hand back to my wife’s head. “Come on, baby,” she said softly, “get back to my pussy.” I stared at my wife’s face.
“I’m sorry, Roy,” she sobbed, “I- I couldn’t…” Her face was desperate and pleading, but with a hint of something else. Resignation? Surrender? “I’m sorry,” she repeated. And as I watched, Desiree moved her hand back behind herself, adjusting her weight, and I watched my wife’s mouth open, her tongue slip out tenderly, and she moved her head, unbidden, to orally pleasure this young girl’s vagina. I saw Monica’s eyes close, and her expression change from fear and shame to satisfaction and wonder. Desiree sighed, and then looked up at me with a look of sly satisfaction, almost gloating.
“You didn’t know, did you, Roy?” My mouth opened, but no words came out as I watched my wife licking a college girl’s pussy, which was, I noticed now, shaved completely bare. Despite my anger and horror, I felt a stirring in my pants. My eyes darted from my wife to Desiree and back again several times as unintelligible grunts come out of me. “Really? You had no idea that your sweet little Monica was a submissive?” Desiree grinned at me, victorious and pleased. “It’s hard to believe. I knew the first time I met her; I could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at me, the way she deferred to me.” She lowered herself to her elbows, and lifted her feet to the edge of the bed, exposing more of herself, and allowing me to see my wife’s tongue licking between her wet, shaved lips with adoration and devotion.
“Did you know she liked pussy, Roy?” Desiree teased, and then her voice changed, and she sounded astonished. “Or is this her first?” She looked down at my wife. “Is that true, Monica? You’ve never licked a pussy before, baby?” She laughed, and threw herself back onto the bed, laying flat on her back, her knees raised and spread. “Oh, I can’t believe it, this is too delicious!” She turned to me, her eyes glittering with delight, her expression smugly diabolical. “You didn’t know, and she has never done this before,” she cooed sweetly, but with devilish undertone. “It’s perfect,” she said, looking directly into my eyes. “I am really going to enjoy this.” Her eyes narrowed. “You seem shocked, Roy. Let me help you out.”
She propped herself up on her elbow and grabbed Monica’s hair with one hand, pulling her head from between her legs. My wife’s face glistened wetly and her mouth hung open. “Monica,” she told her, “go suck Roy’s cock.” Monica turned to look at me, and dropped her eyes. “Well?” Desiree goaded, “what are you waiting for?”
I watched in shock as my wife obediently pulled away and crawled to me on her hands and knees. She looked up at me, sorrow and regret in her eyes, and reached up to undo my pants. I stammered an objection, but couldn’t form the words.
“Relax, Roy,” Desiree said, rolling onto her side. “Don’t pretend you’re not excited, I can see your pants bulging.” It was true; despite my shock and horror I had grown an erection, and it popped out shamefully as my wife dutifully pulled my pants and briefs down. I tried to speak again but was distracted by Monica’s mouth enveloping the swollen head of my dick with her mouth, and began stroking me with her lips, tongue and hands.
“That’s it, sweetie, suck his cock good for me, like the nasty slut you are,” she chirped with seductive glee. I felt Monica work harder, sucking me as she never had before. With horror and delight I tried to resist, but the sensations shooting through my cock won the battle for my attention. She’d used her mouth on me before, but never like this. She was bobbing her head up and down, luring my climax faster than ever before. She had never let me come in her mouth; insisted she hated it, but here she was, bobbing her head and stroking my shaft like a woman possessed. I groaned.
“Take it deeper, baby, choke yourself on his cock,” I heard Desiree say, “and look at him.” My wife’s eyes turned up, and I watched her push her mouth down, feeling my cockhead touch the back of her mouth, and she coughed as tears formed in her eyes. “Yeah, that’s it, push it into your throat, you whore!” I glared at Desiree. Who was this girl, calling my wife these awful names? Then I felt my dick push into my wife’s throat, heard her gag, and cough, and I looked down at her, tears running down her cheeks and thick saliva blowing out past her lips. “Yes!” Desiree cheered. “Choke on his cock!” She looked up at me with unabashed victory as Monica pulled her head back, gasping for air, a string of spittle hanging from her mouth to my cock. “You like that, don’t you, Roy? It feels good, doesn’t it?” She sneered. “Does it shock you? Are you embarrassed? Does your wife’s behavior shame you?”
She sat up and began peeling her top off, a skimpy shirt she wore over her bathing suit. “Let me tell you how this is going to play out, Roy,” she began sternly, and after pulling off her swimsuit top, swung her legs to the end of the bed, her knees facing Monica. She reached for Monica’s head and pulled her towards her, directing her face to her own chest. “Here, baby,” she cooed, lowering her voice, softening it the way you would speak to a loving pet. “Suck my nipples, sweetie, love them for me.” I watched my wife dutifully lean in and take a nipple into her mouth and begin to lavish loving strokes of her tongue around the hardening bud before taking it into her mouth and sucking gently.
“Your wife,” she continued to me, sternly again, but grinning now, “needed no coercion to do what I say. She came to me, willingly, because she is compelled to be submissive. You on the other hand,” she arched an eyebrow, “seem like you need might some extra motivation. So I’ll give you these two thoughts to consider.” She wrapped a hand around the back of my wife’s head, and held her face to her breast.
“First, if you don’t do everything I say, I will tell your sweet, innocent daughter that you attacked me and forced yourself on me. She SO looks up to you two, she adores you both, and she’ll be SO disillusioned, so disappointed to have her beliefs betrayed.” She smiled with her cunning.
“You- you can’t -” I managed. I felt foolish, standing there with my hard cock sticking out at her, still wet with Monica’s saliva. “You wouldn’t -” I tried, but I knew it was true. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to face my daughter in this lie. Who would believe the truth?
“I would, and you know I would, and you know how it would turn out.”
“But I haven’t- I haven’t had sex with you.”
“Not yet, but you will,” she grinned. “You certainly will. And you’ll love it,” she added seductively, “I assure you, sticking your cock in my tight young pussy will be the best fuck you’ve ever had.” She moved Monica to the other breast. “But that’s not all I offer you, oh, no.” Her face took on a malicious grin, eyes sparkling. “I will also give you control over your lovely, submissive wife. The way she is obeying me? She will obey you, willingly and enthusiastically.” She pulled my wife’s face up to meet her eyes. “Or else,” she said to Monica, “she will never have me again. And she doesn’t want that, now, does she?”
“N-no, Mistress Desiree,” my wife answered.
Des looked back up at me. “So, Roy? What do you think?” She cocked her head. “You want to give it a test run, see how it feels?” One side of her mouth curled up in a half smile. “Go ahead. You have my permission to give her an order. What’s your fantasy, Walt? What have you ever wanted my little pet to do that you’ve never had the balls to ask?”
My brain swirled with the combination of the outrageous developments, the horny vision of all I’d seen, the luscious body of the naked young girl sitting on my bed, and my repressed dirty desires. “I- I don’t know,” I stammered, then blurted, “I want her to play with herself.”
“Don’t tell me,” Desiree admonished, “tell your wife.” She pulled Monica’s head away from her, turning her to face me. “Say it. Go ahead, don’t be afraid.”
“Monica,” I began.
“Call her Slut.”
I screwed up my courage. I had never spoken to my wife that way, and never been adamant about sexual demands. “Take off your pants, slut, and play with yourself.” The words felt strange coming from my mouth.
“Too timid, Roy,” Desiree advised, “you need practice. Try again, more determined, more specific.”
“Slut,” I said, more loudly, “get those pants off, and let us see you finger your pussy.” It sounded like someone else when I said it, but then, instantly, my wife reached for the waist of her pants, opening them and pulling them off her hips. She wriggled out of them, sitting back in her ass to get them off her legs, along with her panties. Then she sat obediently on the floor, and spread her legs wide, and I watched, shocked and elated as her hands travelled between her legs, and she began toying with her lips, gently rubbing them, her eyes downcast and shamed.
“You see, Roy? You see what you can have?” Her voice grew in intensity, ripe with lust. “Anything you desire, anything you want her to do, she’ll do.” My eyes were glued between my wife’s legs, as she slipped a pair of fingers inside, while the other hand spread her lips, exposing herself to us, her thumb rubbing her clit. I heard her moan.”And she’ll love it! She lives to be controlled, Roy.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s my slave now, my pet. And you can share in the reward, Roy. All you have to do is cooperate.”
Despite my horror at the strangeness, my dick had never felt so hard, and lust raged through me. In the back of my mind I considered the downside of fighting, of facing my daughter, defending against the lies Desiree would tell. And I momentarily considered the possible negatives to giving in; seeing my wife humiliated, being subjected to Desiree’s whims. But I was lost, and I knew it; the temptation of sex with Desiree and the lure of being able to direct my wife to satisfy my most base desires was too much to resist. And I gave in, too easily.
“So whaddya say, Roy?”
“I’m in,” I answered shamefully. “I’ll do what you want.”
“Whatever I want? Whatever I say? You’ll be my slave, my pet, just like your pretty wife. You’ll submit to me?”
“Yes,” I said, my hand unconsciously stroking my hard cock. “Yes, I’ll submit.”
She beamed, delighted at her victory. “Excellent! Get those clothes off, my little pet, and undress your pretty wife.” She climbed onto her knees, leaning forward with anticipation as I stripped off my clothes, and then naked, removed the rest of Monica’s. “The next time I come here,” she said, chipper and eager, “I want Monica’s pussy shaved, and you, too. And I want those awful granny panties in the garbage. I want her in sexy underwear, or none at all, understand.”
“Yes,” I mumbled.
I remembered my wife’s answer. “Yes, Mistress Desiree.”
“Perfect, pet.” She sat back on the bed, and spread her legs. “Now get down here and get your face between my legs. But don’t touch me, yet, just get nice and close, and smell my wet pussy.” I turned to her and knelt down, extending my body as she scooched backwards, until my chest was pressed flat on the bed, my face just an inch from her shaved, glistening lips. Her pussy was open and swollen with excitement, and was the most beautiful seductive vision I had ever seen. Her scent filled my nostrils as she spoke. “Monica, dear, please get behind your husband, and lick his ass.” She giggled as I felt my wife press her face to my ass, and I felt her breath, and then her tongue touched my back hole. Oh my god, I thought, Monica is licking my butt!
“Do a good job, dear, get that sweet innocent tongue up there as far as you can, lick him out good.” She rubbed her hand in my hair. “I want him moaning when he eats my cunt.” She ran her fingers into my hair then, and pulled tight. “And you, Roy,” she said, pulling my face into her, “let’s see if you lick cunt as good as your wife does. Make me cum with your married tongue.”
I felt my face pulled forward, and my mouth, still closed, pressed into her open, wet hole. In an instant my tongue was out, burrowing inside her, licking her sweet tangy pussy juice. Then I started licking up the sides, lightly sucking on her lips, and working my way up her slit to her clit, feeling the hard nub under my tongue, and snaking it around a few times, lightly, before sucking it between my pursed lips. Oh, sweet heaven, her pussy was delightful! So young, so fresh and hot, so juicy. She squirmed under me as I felt my wife burrowing her tongue into my ass, spreading my cheeks with her hands, opening me and digging inside as though it was only for her own pleasure. Sensations ran from my ass to my head and back again, centering in my hard cock, pressed snugly into the mattress.
Desiree saw my hips move, and she warned me not to cum. It was hard to resist, hard o concentrate as my wife sent thrilling feelings into my ass that were echoed by my mouth on Desiree’s lovely pussy. I worked her clit, sucking and licking and nibbling, repeated what she reacted to, then heard her begin to moan and pull my face tighter against her. I could barely breathe, and struggled to angle my head against her hand to free my nose, gasping for breath as I brought her to orgasm, and then I heard her scream, and her legs tightened on my head and she clamped me there; her body shaking as she climaxed, her voice calling out the wave of pleasure crashing through her. I felt a pride and elation that I was able to bring her off, and would have liked to cover her hole with my mouth, drink her juices, but she held me in place, reminding me that I was hers, and I was doing this for her pleasure.
My cock disagreed.
When her crest pass she settled, and released my head. “Get up here,” she told me, and I reluctantly pulled my ass from my wife, and crawled on my knees between her spread legs. “You, too, Monica,” she said, and then my wife was by my side, her face no longer covered in shame; now brightly filed with eagerness and a sense of ease. I realized that she was really comfortable in her submissive role, and wondered why I had never seen it in her before. How had she hidden this from me? Or was it me, who was so blind I couldn’t see it?
“Kiss him first, baby, let him taste your tongue fresh from his ass.” Monica grabbed my head and pushed her mouth onto mine, her lips open and her tongue inside mine. I was shocked; she was normally a closed-mouth kisser, rarely enjoying tongues and spit-swapping. But I matched her, taken by the moments, and reveled in her enthusiasm and desire, tasting my own ass in her mouth, and not caring. Doing what I was told.
“Suck his cock now, my pet; get it nice and wet for my lovely pussy, so your husband can give me a good fucking,” she told Monica, who immediately dropped her head and enveloped my shaft with her mouth. Desiree’s hand reached out and pushed her down, forcing the head into the back of her throat, making her gag. When she let go, Monica pulled back, and thick strings of saliva connected her mouth to my shaft. She spread them over my cock, cooing with desire. Desire to have me? Or desire to please her Mistress? I no longer cared.
“Put him in me, baby,” Desiree directed, “Put your man’s cock in your Mistress’s cunt, make him fuck me with the dick you married.” Monica’s eyes shone wetly as she pulled me to her commander’s pussy, rubbing the slick head over the lips, then aiming it at the hole, wet and red and waiting. I saw stars as I felt the first contact, my wife’s hand wrapped firmly around my shaft, the head pressed against the open wet pussy of a girl my daughter’s age. She held me there, eyes glued to where my cock touched our new Mistress’s pussy. Then she pulled me forward, hand gripping the base of my dick, and pressed me inside her. I felt her pussy open, sliding around my cock. My wife groaned as if I was fucking her, and Desiree echoed her sentiment.
“Yeah, you like that, my pet? You can feel his cock going in me like he’s going in you.” I pressed in, slipping about three-quarters inside her. “You are a perfect submissive, sweetie; you live for my pleasure.” A corner of my brain saw she was right. My wife was getting off on Desiree getting off. I pressed the rest of the way in, sinking fully into her as my wife released me, but Desiree grabbed her hand and held it there.
“Put your fingers in me, slut; feel your man’s cock in my cunt.” I held still, slightly pulled back, as I watched and felt Monica slip one, then a second finger inside Des’s pussy, stroking along my shaft. “You see how he fills me? You feel how wet I am for your man’s cock, baby? Doesn’t his cock feel so good inside me?” Monica groaned with pleasure as I began pumping in and out.
“Oh, Mistress Desiree, you are so hot and wet for his cock, I love feeling him fucking you.” She was panting a little, like my cock penetrating Desiree was transferring directly to her, fucking her by proxy. I began pumping harder, and Desiree pulled Monica’s hand out, and shoved it at my wife’s face.
“His cock is mine, now,” she told her, “he’s going to fuck my cunt.” She shoved the wet fingers into Monica’s mouth, and I watched my wife suck hungrily. “Taste my cunt on your fingers, that’s your job, pet, to lick my juice, to serve me the way you need it.” Monica groaned with delight, sucking her own fingers deeply into her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. She pulled them out, cleaned, and knelt obediently beside me as I fucked our new Mistress.
The young girl pulled Monica’s arm, drawing her down. “Love my tits, pet,” she said, and as I increased my pace I watched my wife suck Desiree’s hard brown nipple into her mouth, loving it, teasing it. I grunted and pounded hard.
“Yeah, Roy, give it to me, make me cum on your cock.” She lifted her hips to meet mine, compounding my thrusts into her. I groaned, and she warned me, “Don’t you cum! You fuck when I saw, and you cum when I say, not before!” And then she grinned again, deliciously evil and manipulative. I no longer cared that she had twisted my family life into this strange new shape, I only cared about fucking her. I slammed my cock into her tight hole. “Yes,” she sneered, “that’s it, fuck me good, like a good boy. Oh, here it comes, Roy, here it comes!”
She raised her hips, her legs stiffening, and her body tensed, and she cried out her climax. I felt her juices soaking my cock, felt the heat increase inside her, her pussy clenching my cock with her young muscles. She strained as the waves crested through her, and then exhaled sharply as she finished.
“Oh, that was wonderful, Roy, you did that well. You shall be rewarded. Pet,” she addressed my wife, “pull your man’s cock out of me and suck my cum off.” Monica was at me in a flash, pushing me back, and out, and her mouth swallowed my shaft, slurping noisily to suck Desiree’s cum from my meat. I was delirious at the raw display of her wanton desire, her submission, and struggled not to cum. Not until I was told.
Monica cleaned my cock, and unbidden, licked my balls, making sure to get every drop of the young girl’s cum from me. Then she returned to my cock and pushed her head all the way down, choking and gagging herself as my cockhead entered her throat. I gasped at the feeling of being inside her face so deep, feeling her throat muscles gripping me as she tried to swallow. Desiree grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off, gasping.
“Don’t you make him cum!” she barked. “His load is mine, for my young pussy!” She gritted her teeth and snarled at my wife. “If you behave, I’ll let you lick it out of me. Now put him back in!” Monica, admonished, obediently pulled my cock back to the young girl’s pussy, and I resumed fucking, yearning for the command to let go and fill her with my load. I didn’t think I could hold off much longer.
“Okay, Roy, you’ve been very cooperative, and I will let you cum inside me. Fuck me good, and fill my pussy with your nasty cum. Monica,” she added, “tell him to fill me, baby, so you can lick me out.”
My wife, rewarded with notice and participation, looked at me with shining eagerness. “Fuck her good Roy, fill My Lady’s pussy with your cum,” she said, stroking my chest. “Shoot your hot cum in her cunt, fill her up with your hot cum, so I can suck it all out.” The filthy talk shocked me; I had never heard such things from my wife’s mouth. She seemed to be trembling in anticipation. “Please, Roy,” she pleaded, “please fill her hot cunt for me, so I can eat your cum from her.” I was momentarily distracted by her desire to be so submissive, so nasty, but my body took control, and I fucked harder, feeling my climax approach, and lunged inside her, grunting out loud, and my balls tightened and clenched, and then I was cumming, hard; my cock spewing it’s lava into her, feeling her pussy fill with liquid heat, feeling the squishy slime coating me, and I jerked and bellowed as I finished.
Monica sat, ready, staring at the spot where my cock filled her, watching the first drops spill out around my shaft, and made small mewling sounds of desire. “You want that cum, pet? You want it?”
“Yes,” she whispered, almost too softly, “yes, I want to suck his cum from your cunt, Mistress Desiree.”
Des pushed me back, and my cock popped out wetly, and Monica dove in, pushing me out of the way, laying on her stomach and craning her neck to force her face into the young girl’s fucked love hole, and I managed to see her tongue scoop a fat drop from the bottom of her pussy before her head blocked my view. She was burrowing in, sucking and slurping and making yummy sound as she sucked my load from Desiree. I moved to the side to get a better look, and barely heard Desiree talking to me.
“You see, Roy? You see what you have earned today? All this and more, and I give it to you, because you made yourself mine.” I could see Monica’s tongue now, spearing inside, scooping out cum and swallowing it as though it was a rare treat. “She is yours to command, whenever I am not here. Did you ever imagine she would do such things? Ever?”
My lust sated, I felt my brain return to consciousness, and with it, the misgivings and amazement at my wife’s, and my own behavior. “N- No, uh, never.” Monica had never allowed my cum in her mouth, and now she was eagerly lapping it from our daughter’s friend’s fucked pussy. I looked for her hands, and saw them between her own legs, fingering herself.”We never …” I trailed off.
“Well, you will, now,” she finished for me. “You make sure you treat her right, like the slut she wants to be told to be. Make her do nasty things, show her off; bring men home to fuck her, make her eat pussy, humiliate her in public. Piss on her.” She paused, her voice lowered, sinister. “Make her your slave.” She pulled herself away from Monica, and my wife rolled onto her back, and jammed three fingers into herself as we watched.
“Go ahead, pet, you’ve earned your cum,” she advised, then turned to me. “But don’t you forget, Roy, she belongs to me, just like you do. When I come back to visit, and I WILL come back, count on it,” she warned, “when I come back you are both mine.”
Monica cried out, cumming hard. What had we become? How would our lives change? What if Rosie found out?
And I knew Desiree was right; we were hers, and we were lost.