Emma's Stiletto Seduction Pt. 22

I wanted to gasp for breath. Usually after deep throating a cock, David would take my hair into his hands, and stand proud with his penis on my face as I panted for air.

But not this time. He was deliberately not touching me or his cock with his hands. I had to make him cum using my mouth and nothing else.

As I coughed, he felt a mixture of cum and mucus coat the length of his shaft, and abruptly escape my mouth and onto his balls.

If he could see me, and I knew he was trying, but if he could see me, he would be looking at a long trail of cum and mucus hanging from my chin. First a few inches and then more, until it found its way to the lap of my tight black leather dress, now stretched tightly between my knees.

I was not going to stop. he didn't want me to stop.

I quickly tried to get his cock back into my throat, easier now. I could definitely use my throat cartilage, tonsils and uvula to push against him and stimulate his cock.

Immediately it felt good, I was enveloping his cock head with everything I had.

"Gluk, Gluk, Gluck", noises came from me. Desperately learning, and trying to breathe through my nose, I got into a rhythm. Yes this was ok, I could sustain it. It was just a question of how long it would take David to cum again.

David knew he could cum, again, it was just a matter of time. Not through the intense physical oral stimulation of his cockhead but by trying to relax and let himself go.

Fighting the urge to cum is ingrained, almost genetic in men. They learn it from their very first sexual experiences. They need to perform, to last. It's difficult to get into the mindset of not caring about that. Not caring about your partner. Just using, as in this case, the mouth of your girlfriend to make yourself cum. Again.

He was already past the point of no return. He knew he was going to cum once more.

And there is was, load two.

I held his cockhead in my mouth, so as to try and get most of the cum inside my oesophagus this time. It worked.

But I knew I could waste no time. Keep sucking, just like the actress in the video. Just continue as if nothing had happened. David knew he had cum, I knew he had cum, but it was our secret. All evidence had neatly slid down inside me.

David looked at the clock, 16 minutes and 30 seconds.

He had cum twice in that time, and yet he penis was not sore or hurting him, the sperm and mucus in my mouth was the perfect lubricant.

I gently sat back on my high heels, resting my bottom against them. remembering to keep his penis inside my mouth. I was determined not to make a silly mistake now.

Slowly, gently, taking its full length inside me again. Building up a rhythm.

I honestly didn't know if David was able to cum again, I didn't know many guys who could cum three times in a night let alone three times like this. I've only even made a man cum twice like this. My mind wandered, still sucking...

It is in these all to rare moments that I feel at peace with myself. The world is happening to me, I have no choice in the matter or consequences of anything.

I am on my knees.

My arms are behind my back.

My mouth is being used by a cock.

It has cum in my mouth twice.

This will continue until it empties in my mouth again.

Quiet contemplation.

I wasn't aware of how long it had taken, or how many times my head had bobbed up and Down David's shaft. But he came, quickly, and simply, as I felt once more cum flood onto my tongue.

The task was complete.

I didn't feel the need to immediately remove the penis from my mouth and to show my man what he had just done. In the calmness of the last few moments it was nothing but contentment.

I continued to move my head up and down him, gently cleaning the cockhead and then the shaft of its cum. And took two attempts to swallow.

David withdrew his penis, allowing me to reposition back on my heels and manoeuvre myself upright.

I nonchalantly resumed my position on the sofa.

/

Now you will of course note that I love sex. The anticipation of and the act. But perhaps the best part is to be found afterwards.

David and I were a couple, who had straightforward jobs and lived in a straightforward house. If you ignore the fact that I am a transwoman, then we are, dare I say it, normal.

As I settled back in to the comfortable cushions and reached across to my half-finished glass of red wine, It was almost impossible for any external observer to tell what had just happened.

The three loads of sperm David had just deposited inside me were invisible, vanished forever into my mouth, then passed my throat, oesophagus and into my stomach. By now, even in such a short time, they probably did not exist as sperm anymore and were now being digested and absorbed into my blood stream.

But, if anyone looked closely enough, they may observe the tell-tale residue of cum transferred to the rim of my glass from my lips.

By this time David had quickly re-arranged himself. He never liked being naked around anyone, including me, for a long stretch of time. Unless we were in bed.

He had occupied himself by looking at the time.

"Twenty-nine minutes." He thought quietly to himself.

And then the doorbell rang.

Instantly we both looked at each other. Davids face soon turned from a questionable look to shock. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as the cameras confirmed it.

We were not expecting anyone, we never have guests, we don't have family that visit. And no one else knows that I live here.

The bell rang again, longer this time. And the clack-clack-clack of the letter box being pushed echoed around the tiled hallway.

David shook his head, as if to remind me not to move. I was not about to.

Our first thoughts were to stay still, and hope that the visitor would eventually go away...

But they were not going away.

There were two cars in the driveway, and the subtle lounge lights radiated through the open curtains and out into the front garden. The bright lights of the kitchen illuminated the hall.

The visitor knew there were people at home.

I shrugged my shoulders at David, and he felt like he had no-choice.

The short walk to the door felt like a marathon for him. His feet felt the change in temperature as he walked from the carpet to the hall.

Now it was too late, his tall shadow would be cast to whomever was behind the small bulls-eye glass panel of the door.

Slowly he opened it, strangely wishing that he had put some shoes on first....

It was her.

He knew it would be only a matter of time before she had returned, and had hoped that it would be something in the new year. But no, she did not wait. No respect that this was Christmas Day. It was her style.

I listened intently for their conversation, keeping as quiet as possible. The silence of the hallway lasted what seemed minutes, neither not knowing what to say or willing to say anything.

It was pierced by the woman, saying "David."

"Yes?" said David, coldly.

The David I knew was warm, and his voice could melt me, even when I did not want it to. I was not used to this tone, but I was very relieved that he was taking it.

"We need to talk." Returned the woman.

"Do we?" Asked David, "We haven't spoken for years."

The woman kept silent, stunned by this unanticipated response.

"Well if that's it?" David added, once more taking the woman aback with his bluntness.

She looked around, at the two cars in the driveway. His wife knew.

In a flash she pushed and passed David, entering the house. There was nothing he could do. He could not have restrained her, stopped or pushed back. In a legal way, part of the house still belonged to her even though David and I had made it our home.

I was still sitting, glass of wine in hand, but on the edge of the sofa now. I watched as I saw her figure sweep through the hallway and into the bright lights of the kitchen.

By the time I had reached my feet she was back, standing in the opening of the French doors with the tall figure of David behind her, stunned.

I could feel her eyes burning into me, as in the half light of the orange glow from the fire she looked me up and down.

She was exactly as I imagined.

A prim woman, now in her late 50s, with a withering look that could freeze water ten yards away. She had filled out with age, it had not been kind to the woman that I had first glimpsed in the photograph that was on the landing of the house many months ago. A lifetime had happened since.

She was taller than I expected though, and even in my stiletto heels I could tell she had an inch or two on me. I had often wondered why David had stuck it out so long with her, so many unloved and miserable years. Now I could tell why.

Fear.

David had done well, in his cold standoffishness at the door, but now she was in the house and his two worlds had very much collided. I sensed that it was getting too much for him to handle.

In the silence, her trademark withering stare was not going to intimidate me.

Yes, my nature was to be submissive, to be humiliated, to be sexually dominated by a partner. But thats what I chose to be. I wanted David to be the strong dominant man that he was, but it's always a partnership. The submissive has to let and allow a man to do this to her.

I was not about to let this intruder in my home to wreck what we had.

I rose myself up to my tallest posture, and took a sip from my glass that I was still holding in my right hand. If I was nervous, I tried my best not to show it.