Anna's Next Husband

"Wow! Now I'm really flattered!" She gasped between spasms of mirth. "Did you shoot! You really must like me! But you've made a bit of a mess darling and it will have to be cleaned up. Your tongue should do nicely. Get busy now!"

He knew better that to refuse or even hesitate. Starting with her feet he swabbed up the goo, having to go between her toes to get the last of it. From there it was on to her shins. He ran his tongue up her legs, scooping up the white smears. She grabbed his hair and pulled him up the where the final spatter clung in her thick hair. He closed his lips on her pubic locks, sucking his product up.

With a downward push on his head she made it clear she wanted him to serve her again. Things went more slowly this time and Anna puzzled and marveled at his seemingly instinctive skills and the deep slithering of his tongue inside her. And he was so delightfully submissive and adoring into the bargain. It was a mystery and she meant to get to the bottom of it but that would have to wait for another night. She lost herself in his sweet ministrations letting him transport her until she came once again, so hard, so deep, so satisfying. Only one thing was certain. His fate was sealed. They would be married and the sooner the better. But she knew to be patient and take her time. The terms of marriage always came as a shock to the prospective groom and the proposal would have to wait until he was enamored beyond any chance of refusal. When afterglow passed she took his face between her hands, ready to bid him good night.

"It was a lovely evening Paul. I can't believe my own luck. You just walked into my life out of nowhere. But its bedtime for old things like me. Throw that towel down the chute in the bathroom. Write down your phone number on the message board by the door when you leave. The car will be waiting. Emma will take you where you want to go. Now good night!"

She ravished him with a kiss, her tongue probing deep as, if laying claim to him. Then she walked toward a door in the end wall of the room, opened it and stepped through. The click of the latch carried finality. Paul knelt there for a long moment but then panic set in. He was in a strange house, naked and not even knowing how to get home. He dressed hastily, didn't bother with underwear or socks, just gathered them up and carried them. He bolted to the bathroom and ditched the towel then half ran toward the door, opening it and going half way down the steps until recalling that she had asked for his phone number. He went back and scribbled it down. The car waited, the door already open. He all but dived into it and the door slammed shut.

"Where?" he heard Emma say tersely and he gave her his address. The drive back to his apartment building seemed endless. When the car stopped out front he scurried into the building and down the hall to his apartment, opened the door and went right to the bedroom, flopped on his bed, lay face up. The room seemed to spin for awhile. He shook his head and an exhaustion fell over him bringing deep sleep.

Sunlight coming in the window woke him. He wondered if the night before had all been a dream, a thrilling and impossible one. But his next inhalation carried the scent that lingered, the scent of a woman his wildest dreams and fantasies could never have conjured. He moaned and squirmed, his cock hardening as he ran through every detail in his mind. His hand strayed to his cock but with an effort of will he forced it away. She had asked for his number and must have had plans for him. He sensed she would be angry if he masturbated and if he did she would just know and make him confess to it. And then God only knew the consequences. He lay in bed, an ache of longing growing in his balls. A glance at the clock told him he had missed one class and was already late for the next. It was mid-morning.

"Fuck it", he thought and decided to forget about school for the day. It would be impossible to get her out of his mind and concentrate anyway. He thought of showering and shaving but found himself loving each breath that brought her scent. Instead he dressed and walked the few blocks over to Kathy's building to retrieve his car. He passed the day by doing chores, laundry, cleaning the bathroom, anything to pass the time that required no thought or concentration. He had no appetite, craving the taste of only one thing, but late in the day he forced himself to eat, then went to the liquor store for a bottle of whisky and drank himself to sleep. Morning came and he spent the day like the one before, still not showering or shaving, busying himself with trivialities to pass the time. Strong whisky put him to sleep again, the only thing that would quell the steady ache in his balls. Morning came again and with it despair of ever seeing her again.

After dismissing Paul Anna had closed the door of her bedroom behind her feeling a warm anticipation of what lay ahead. It would take awhile, these things couldn't be rushed as she had learned through four courtships. Three of her marriage proposals had been accepted but her first had been refused, her young beau recoiling in horror and fleeing when he learned what it would mean to be her husband. And it was all because she had rushed things, hadn't wrapped him tightly enough in her web or put him deeply enough under her spell. But there was no hurry. She was still happily married and her desires would be satisfied one way or another. She would let Paul ache and burn for a few days then call him and take things to the next level.

She crossed the room to her dresser, picked up a remote that lay on top of it, pointed it across the room at the end wall and pushed the button. At the bottom of the wall was a small door such as one a dog or other pet might enter through. The door slid up at the press of the button and a naked man came crawling through it, her husband John, loving companion and slave for the past seven years. He groveled across the room and knelt at her feet, awaiting her command. A golden ring was pierced through the tip of his jutting penis just below the pee hole, a mark of her ownership and also a place to clip on a leash to lead him by when necessary..

An elaborate and exquisite strap on dildo hung from a peg on the wall above the dresser. She took it and handed it to John then stood with hands on hips and legs apart. The device was L shaped with one end being a long thick false cock, highly detailed and realistic with balls below. The "balls" contained powerful batteries. The other end was a short shaft with bulbous end. With practiced hands John put it on her, first inserting the bulbous shaft in her vagina, then fastening the thin straps that held it in place around her hips. She stood for a moment, shaft jutting out, looking down at John with a sultry leer, then snapped her fingers and pointed at her cock.

Without hesitation John leaned forward to take it in his mouth, first caressing it up and down with lips and tongue and then opening wide to take it deep down his throat until his nose was buried in her thick fragrant bush, an act that had required long practice to perfect. Anna pushed a button on the belt and felt the pulsing of the vibrator embedded deep in her pussy. She sighed deeply and went to fucking John down the throat, gently at first, then harder as her desire kindled. It was a familiar and delightful act of love carried out nightly in the privacy of their room. She came hard then pushed him away. Dutifully, and eagerly, he turned to assume the position, elbows on the floor, ass raised in presentation. Anna went to her knees behind him, aligned the cock with John's much used orifice and poised herself for the entering thrust. John would take it long and hard that night but in her mind it would be Paul there before her impaled on her shaft, taking her deep thrusts, babbling words of love and begging to be fucked harder until they came as one. It would be Paul who would know the Pleasure that would enslave him irrevocably.

"Poor John," Anna thought as she led him to their bed after satisfying herself. "He'll just be crushed when I have to tell him it's over and I'll be moving on to another. But, praise the wisdom and mercy of the Mother, the Rite of Parting will put an end to his longing and give him peace."

As the third day following his tryst with Anna passed into evening a feeling of resignation came over Paul. It was hard to believe a beauty like her would even remember him after a day or two. She seemed to have such force of will and to be so much in command of her life. How could she even give a second thought to a nobody like him when she could probably have any man she wanted any time? He decided it was time to clean up, wash away her scent and try to put her out of his mind. But first he needed to relieve the terrible ache in his balls and there was only one thing to do. He went to the bathroom, undressed and got into the shower stall. He was erect, as he had been through the last three days. Taking himself in hand he stroked his shaft and soon felt the first twinge that signaled relief. Then he heard the ringtone from his phone blare out, coming from the pocket of his shirt. In just the nick of time he stopped himself and plunged out of the shower stall to grab his shirt, fumbling around trying to extricate the phone from it. Just before it went to voice mail he managed to answer. There was no mistaking the voice he heard.

"Paul darling! Do come over tonight. I've been so busy these last few days but I've missed you, especially that sweet tongue of yours. The car is on the way. I hope I'm not being presumptuous. Wait out front. And don't overdress my dear. Clothing won't be important!" She disconnected, not even waiting for him to respond.

He panicked. He was filthy. With scrambling haste he showered and shaved, brushed and flossed, put on just a shirt, pants and shoes, forgoing socks or underwear. He grabbed his long trench coat to ward off the cold and rushed down the hallway and out the front door. The car was just pulling up. The door opened and he flung himself through it, out of breath, heart hammering. The ride seemed like eternity but inevitably there was the slowing down of the car and the sound of the garage door going up. In a blur he was getting out of the car, climbing the stairs, half running down the hallway to the living room and scurrying across it to the fireplace where Anna sat in her chair. She was naked except for a pair of black knee high boots and sipping from a tall glass of red wine. He stopped in his tracks in the middle of the Persian rug in front of the fireplace not sure what to do or say. Anna glared at him and he backed away a step wondering why.

"Paul, why aren't you naked? I can't bear the sight of you with clothes on. In the future when you visit I'll expect you to undress before you present yourself to me. Now strip!"

His hands flew and the lack of underwear and socks helped immeasurably. Best of all he felt an elated relief. She had said "in the future". He tossed his pants aside and fell to his knees, sensing her expectation. She opened her legs and rested her ankles on the arms of the chair leaving no doubt of what was to happen. His eyes went to the hairy crevice between her thighs, blind to anything else.

"Come closer Paul dear. I think you know what I'll want first." He groveled forward until he came within reach of her hand. She took hold of his hair and tugged him forward. He offered no more resistance than a toy balloon. With a hungry passion he laid his tongue to her letting her heady feral musk transport him. He thrilled as she sighed and moaned, rolling her hips in soft undulations, covering his face with the warm ooze of her growing delight. He lapped it up, scooping deep in her cavern with his tongue and swallowing. Her urgent upward tug on his hair told him she was ready. With the fingers of her other hand she parted herself and pushed him back slightly so he could glimpse the hot pink nubbin. He went at it hard, grinding it between his lips and bearing down with the tip of his tongue. Anna's gyrations accelerated as she rammed her mount hard against his lips. Then she shuddered and strong thighs clamped his head in their heavenly grip. He heard her wail of ecstasy muffled by the clutch of her exquisite flesh. Paul was overcome with adoration, overjoyed at giving her such pleasure but yet wanting to do more.

And then that buried and suppressed memory resurfaced and he knew somehow just what to do. He kept his tongue in contact with her clit but with just a feather's touch and then made it flutter softly like a butterfly's wing. Anna gripped his hair tight, holding him in place as she started coming, once, then twice, then three times and then he lost count until she pushed him away and went limp, gelatinous in her satiation. He waited with head across her mount.

Anna floated as if on a cloud in her sweet afterglow but still her mind was reeling. How could this neophyte know such a secret? It had taken her days to teach her slave husbands to do the butterfly. She was intrigued beyond enduring and worse, felt a sense of losing control, unthinkable for such a one as her. This mystery had to be solved this very night. She shook her head to clear it and sat up, pushing Paul away to kneel at her feet. Fighting down the urge to take him in her arms, shower him with deep wet kisses and confess to the passionate love that had blossomed within her, she resumed the haughty demeanor that usually came so naturally. She damned his virtuoso performance with faint praise, hoping to keep him in his place.

"That was nice Paul, very nice." She noted the slight disappointment in his eyes and went on to reassert her control. "You do still need a bit of practice though."

Then the interrogation began. She had to get it out of him.

"Now Paul, there's so much more I need to know about you. If I'm going to teach you to really satisfy me I must know every detail of your sexual experience. So just tell me now. Everything!"

Paul shrugged and started in. There really wasn't much to tell it seemed. His virginity had been lost to a tall blonde young farmer's daughter he had met during his first semester in college. It had been wonderful while it lasted. The girl had to have it and couldn't get enough. Sometimes they would fuck for hours and he would make her come over and over from the relentless thrusting only a young man with his first love could muster. But he was to find out through the grapevine that Becky had to have cock and didn't care much who's it was. When she wasn't with him she was likely fucking someone else. They parted. Other than a drunken one night stand once in awhile over the next few years of school it had been Kathy. She was grudging with her favors and in hindsight he realized that she didn't want him for himself but for the money he was likely to have after he graduated at the top of his class. He was being recruited, even fought over, by the top firms in the country. She turned elsewhere, obviously, to satisfy her lusts.

Paul shrugged his shoulders and told Anna that was everything. He looked at her and saw her eyes boring into him, obviously not convinced.

"There must be more Paul. You will kneel there until you tell me everything. Do not think you can hide this from me. I will get it out of you one way or another or I will send you home and that will be the end of it. You will never taste me or touch me again!"

He just knelt there with downcast eyes not knowing what to do. He glanced up periodically only to see her eyes like stone. He tried to plumb the depths of his memory, letting his mind go blank at first, then probing deep. And then there was a pressure in his mind from something trying to force its way to the surface. He shook his head, looked up at Anna bewildered, trying to mouth words that wouldn't come out.

Anna wondered, could it be? It was unlikely, rare, but couldn't be ruled out and it would explain so much. She decided there was nothing to lose by trying.

"Paul! Look at me, Into my eyes!" He lifted his head to meet her stare.

"Paul, the Mother frees your tongue! You may speak of it."

It was as if cold water had been thrown in his face. His eyes cleared and he began his story with a blank expression and unblinking stare, pouring it out.

In his senior year in high school he had taken a special English literature class for advanced students taught by an Englishwoman, Ms. Jane Richardson. She was there on a one year contract. An attractive woman in her mid-thirties she was on the short side of average height, shapely, full breasted, with cinnamon hair usually in a bun and stunning blue eyes. Her couture ran to tweed jackets, white blouses cut low to show cleavage, short black skirts and spike heeled pumps. She was married and her husband had come with her.

Paul fell headlong into a schoolboy crush before the first class was over. Being virginal and unsophisticated he sought her attention by being the class clown and cut-up. He was the youngest in his class, not due to turn eighteen until mid May and also a bit immature on that account. It seemed nothing was too foolish for him to say or do if only to see those blue eyes flash at him. And something in the withering sarcasm with which she humiliated him over his antics made him tingle with excitement and only want more. But he also strove to get the highest grade in her class.The year passed and he dreaded its end knowing she would be leaving.

One Monday, just after his eighteenth birthday he had been particularly obnoxious in class. He sat sideways in his desk, facing away from Jane and doing something that caused some of the girls to avert their eyes and squeal in disgust while the boys who saw it laughed aloud.

"Paul! What are you up to now?" He turned to her with a mischievous grin, stuck out his tongue and touched it to the end of his nose. Jane gave him her own look of disgust for form's sake and shamed him with a sardonic remark. But he caught a subtle gleam in her eye before she looked away. His fate was sealed though he didn't know it just then.

The next day, after dismissing the other students Ms. Richardson called him aside. "I've spoken to the principal about your antics Paul and she has agreed you should serve detention for two hours here in the classroom under my supervision after school from now until the end of term. It has already been cleared with you parents as well. The principal has promised absolute privacy."

The class was his last one of the day and his first detention was to begin immediately. Ms. Richardson first had him sit in his chair while she went to the classroom door, looked both ways down the hallway, then closed and locked it. She went to the windows on the other wall and closed the blinds tight. Then she picked up the classroom yardstick, a thick heavy one with brass tips and paced back and forth in front of Paul slapping it against her palm as she addressed him.

"Paul, you may not realize it but in spite of yourself you are my favorite student. I can't appear to tolerate your behavior in front of your classmates but your work is wonderful and your grades reflect it. In fact I like you much more than is appropriate. And I know you are in love with me and it makes me very happy though nothing can ever come of it. I must return to England in two weeks. But spite of how much I like you I think you do need to pay a bit of a price first for your insolence. Stand up, take down your pants and bend over my desk young man!"

Shaking in mingled love and fear, her tone of command compelling him he obeyed. As he shuffled forward with pants around ankles he saw her reach under her skirt,pull down her panties and step out of them. When he bent over the desk she twisted his ear with one hand until he opened his mouth in a yelp and with the other hand crammed the panties into his mouth, gagging him. Then there was a whooshing sound and a loud crack as the yardstick struck his behind causing searing pain. His cry was muffled. Another stroke fell and another, up to ten. Then she went to the door, opened it and looked both ways to ensure they were alone, returned and resumed the spanking. He lost count of the strokes after twenty and his buttocks burned fiercely but soon after, when he wept without inhibition she stopped. He remained bent over, whimpering softly. She placed a soothing hand on his head while telling him it was all over and wouldn't happen again and that he was going to like the rest of the time they had together very much.