Mistress Doreen Ch. 08

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"Just like you my desperate, eager slave husband," Doreen concluded her narration.

"Yes, Mistress," I agreed as I looked longingly at the seductive, recently sexually well used body of my 75 year old wife.

During Doreen's detailed descriptions of her dominant sexual triumph's, she often had me role play the part of her willing, submissive victims. She did so again that late afternoon.

By the time she had concluded her salacious story of her taming of our young stud homeowner's association manager, she had directed us to our bedroom - the site of her ecstatic dominant victory.

A brief aside. Both Doreen and I are meticulous housekeepers - rather OCD some would suggest. Our home was clean, well ordered - neat. But during my wife's frequent sexual trysts, she treated our home with abandon. When I returned home after these raucous affairs I would find it disordered, disheveled and sometimes in shambles. Doreen pointedly did NOT clean up after these extravagant sexual sessions. She made it clear that was one of the jobs of her cuckolded husband - me - part of the price I must willingly pay for the privilege of being her slave husband.

So it came as no surprise that as I crawled excitedly and willingly behind my wife's sharp stiletto heels I was greeted with the overwhelming aroma of recent sex and the sight of our bedroom in disarray. The black satin sheets - which I would later carefully hand wash under Doreen's stern direction - were rumpled, wet and stained.

My Mistress wife sneered down at me as I appreciated the significance of the state of our bedroom. Wordlessly, I helped her shed her leather halter top and miniskirt. She sensuously crawled through our rumpled bedclothes, plumped our pillows, laid back with head and shoulders elevated and spread her long, smooth, tanned legs - she was now clothed only in her 4" black leather stiletto heels and gold chain.

I peered on bended knee in helpless, submissive adoration from the foot of our bed, thru her legs to the glistening red gash of my Mistress wife's well used pussy. I glanced past the center of her sex to the slow rising and falling of her massive mammaries and onto her beautiful, seductive, smiling face.

"Come worship me as I deserve and you need!" Doreen commanded as she pulled my leash taut and dragged me eagerly by my snug, leather, slave collar to a familiar spot between her firm thighs. Unclipping my leash whip, she lay it beside her, within easy reach!

"Time to clean up, Frank!" my wife encouraged me as she stretched languorously, prepared to enjoy my dutiful minsistrations.

I had come to relish this husbandly duty which mere months before I would have found repulsive. I was addicted to Doreen. I savored every opportunity to see, hear, smell, touch or taste her. Every chance she gave me to indulge my addiction invariably resulted in my small cock growing hard and leaking precum - which it now did.

At first, I endured the less pleasant aspects of this process as the price I needed to pay to access my mistress's remarkably beautiful body. But soon I found the very depraved nature of the humiliation my wife exacted was in itself arousing - not least because of the pleasure which invariably followed.

Doreen had made it clear - with word and whip - that before I would be allowed the privilege of cleaning her pussy, I needed to clean she and her lover's sexual leftovers on her legs and ass - all, of course, with my lips and tongue - and all in a way which maximized her enjoyment and my humiliation.

I spotted a crusted patch of dried fluid - a mixture of her cum, Curt's sperm and their sweat - on Doreen's inner thigh. I gently kissed it and then licked it between my quivering lips. Her taste was sweet, his was not. I swallowed quickly and moved to the next patch - higher on her thigh and closer to my goal.

"Good boy," Doreen purred.

My wife was well covered with the dried effluent of her extramarital, dominant love making. I took my time, as I had been taught. I lingered on her cleaned, glistening flesh, enjoying the taste I so needed as well as the occasional moans of appreciative pleasure from my mistress.

As I finished her legs, carefully avoiding her pussy, Doreen shifted her pelvis and presented her firm, smooth, tanned ass for my inspection and cleaning. Once again I kissed, licked and swallowed the crusty sexual goo. I finished her globes and my wife spread her cheeks wide with both hands. There, in her dark crevice, was a large grey white semi liquid wad perched in her brown, star shaped anus - kept warm by its intimate location - its size silent testimony to the prurient activities performed earlier in our marriage bed.

Shamelessly I viewed this as a special prize, a special treat - I would be able to taste my wife's cum (albeit mixed with her young well endowed lover's) and her puckered asshole at the same time! And I did! I worked extra long and extra hard to ensure that Doreen's wrinkled anus was completely free of debris. The tangy taste of her nether hole overcame my caution and I slowly introduced the tip of my tongue into that dark, tight, warm inviting space.

Crack!

The whip hit hard on my ass before I could react.

Doreen had released her ass cheeks at the first sign of me taking 'liberties'. My face was now trapped in the dark crevice of her bottom as she meted out my punishment. She had trained me to do what she asked, nothing more. My moment of initiative and deviant pleasure came with a cost.

Crack!

The whip hit my ass even harder.

"You know better! You will have the exquisite pleasure of worshipping my anus ONLY when I command it!" Doreen hissed.

Crack!

One final - for now - blow of her whip, the hardest of all - and my ordeal was over.

Releasing my face from her glorious globes she chuckled, "Now for the main course - my crummy, crusted, well used cunt!"

Doreen shifted again and I approached with my excited, reddened face and stinging butt to worship and clean the center of her sex.

By now I knew the folds and crevices of my wife's passionate pussy intimately.

Because of its vigorous activities of the afternoon, I also knew it would be both tender and anxious for my adoring attention.

I began slowly, gently to kiss and lick Doreen's tender flesh. I was rewarded with her feral taste, fevered heat and appreciative sigh. Encouraged, I systematically explored her twat, savoring the mixture of flavors and consistency of the residue of her love making that I found there - sweet and tangy, watery and viscous, clear and grey.

The more I probed, the more I licked, the more I swallowed the more aroused I became. I began to unconsciously hump the soiled sheets of our bed.

Between gasps of increasing pleasure, Doreen reminded me, "Don't you DARE cum without MY permission!"

She emphasized her point with three quick, hard painful applications of her whip on my already hurting ass.

I, of course, obeyed immediately.

With renewed vigor and determination I applied my entire face to the task of cleaning and pleasuring my dominant mistress. I searched for and found her enlarged, rubbery clit, massaging it gently, then harder with my eager tongue.

I was rewarded by a deep throated admonition from Doreen, "YES my cum slave, cuckold husband! Eat it all! EAT ME!" as she closed her thighs around my entrapped head, grabbed my hair with both hands to pull my face deeper and harder into her quim, and jabbed her stiletto heels mercilessly into my aching ass.

I happily complied. I worked my lips, tongue and - yes - teeth on her rampaging clit. She worked her vaginal muscles on my face as she neared her climax, forcing the last of the combined gunk of her and Curt's sexual union - which had remained hidden deep in the recesses of my wife's cunt - onto my face and even into my hair.

There was so much!

Suppressing my gag reflex, I dutifully and gratefully licked and sucked all I could into my mouth, swallowing the pungent compounds as quickly as I could. The stuff was in my eyes, up my nose and on my chin. When I took short gasps of air, I inhaled it as well. There seemed no end to it.

But the consistency gradually changed. As my wife eventually expelled the last of Curt's deposit onto my face, it was replaced by the copious clear sweet fluid of Doreen's precious nectar.

This change coincided with her race to orgasm. It inspired me to renewed devotion to worship my wife's pussy.

It was enough!

Doreen came hard!

"YES, FRANK!" she wailed in dominant joy, squeezing my head with her thighs and hands and pressing her heels hard into my butt. Her old body shook in waves and her precious juice sluiced from her inflamed gash.

I was unable to breath as she came - trapped and flooded. I continued to probe, lick and swallow in my heavenly prison - grateful to slavishly lavish my attention on my mistress during her extended orgasm.

Slowly her sexual tide receded. She loosened her grip and I took several long, deep breaths into my burning lungs. Slowly, I still gently licked her weathered folds enjoying the last remnants of her sweet cum.

"Enough," Doreen sighed.

She took my collar in her old, bony, now unsteady hand and directed me to the side of our bed.

I looked down at my wife, so beautiful in her post orgasmic repose. Her eyes were closed, several clear tears falling onto her cheeks. She was now breathing softly, regularly. My eyes were drawn to her breasts, rising and falling in a slow, sensual rhythm. They were aged perfectly - large, ruddy nipples and areolas; a vast expanse of smooth, tanned skin covering their massive, natural softness, a crinkling of her aged tanned flesh as it rose to her wrinkled neck. I never tired of their look, their feel or their taste. I was addicted to them. I consumed them eagerly at every opportunity.

Luckily for me, Doreen's tit's were particularly sensitive. She loved breast play and enjoyed having her mamarries worshipped often.

My eyes riveted on her luscious breasts, I hadn't noticed that her eyes had opened.

Grabbing a tight hold of my small, hard dripping cock, she smeared my precum on its entire length.

"You need to cum so badly don't you my willing enslaved cuckold husband?" Doreen crooned in mock sympathy.

"Yes, Mistress," I answered honestly. My eyes darted from her gorgeous tits, to her firm hand to her amused grey green eyes.

"I'll bet I can make you cum quickly on my beautiful breasts can't I?" my dominant wife asked, full well knowing the answer.

"Oh yes, Mistress!" I answered hopefully.

In our short time together, cumming on my wife's breasts and eagerly cleaning them with my tongue had become a special treat for both of us.

"Then get up here 'big' boy," Doreen commanded in derision, pulling me over her outstretched body by my dick.

I straddled her rounded stomach and kneeled, my rod pointing at the tits it and I adored.

She began stroking my cock with her left hand and squeezing my balls with her right. The heavenly sensations coursed through my body which began to move with the rhythm my wife dictated.

"I make you hard, don't I?" Doreen asked increasing the pressure, speed and pleasure from her old, veiny, large beautiful hands.

"Yes, Mistress," I answered.

"I can make you cum whenever I want, can't I?" she persisted.

"Yes, Mistress," I responded - desperate to cum but equally desperate not to cum without my wife's permission.

"You love being controlled by me, don't you?" my wife asserted.

"Yes, Mistress!" I gasped, reveling in her touch and her control, frantic now to cum.

"You cum only for me, Frank. CUM NOW!" my beautiful, old, mistress wife screamed in command as her left hand flew up and down on my crazed cock and her right hand closed vice like on my exposed, vulnerable nuts.

"YES!" I screamed in my turn, gratefully obeying my wife's order in a delirium of submissive sexual bliss as my old prong sprayed my hot cum over her titanic tits.

Wave after pent up wave shook my body and pushed my jism in strong, then diminishing ropes of viscous white goo. My wife directed my sexual spray over the expanse of her breasts, moaning in satisfaction as the hot cum hit her nipples and titflesh.

All too soon it ended.

Kneeling over my wife, I watched my semen congeal on the splendid surface of her magnificent mammaries. A small puddle formed in the delectable fold of her cleavage. I composed myself for a few moments and looked down on the indulgent smile of my mistress wife as she raised her soiled hands to my waiting mouth, allowing my deflating cock to droop and my balls to drop comfortably on her chest.

Wordlessly, I began the ritual duty - prescribed by Doreen during our first meeting - of cleaning and swallowing any cum she permitted me! At first appalled, now I took it in stride as a small price to pay for the incredible pleasure only she could give me. I learned to largely ignore the texture and taste of my cum and savor the taste and texture of Doreen's sweet flesh.

Finishing her hands - sucking each finger deeply into my honoring oral vault - she gently pulled my face to her cum covered breasts and slowly directed my hungry mouth to her flesh. She allowed me to linger - licking and sucking her tits - long after I had completed my cleansing job. I gratefully took advantage by sucking and playing overlong with her large, rubbery nipples.

"Let's shower," Doreen said in her deep contralto voice, ending our post orgasmic love making.

We did - gently washing each other in the warm soapy water with soft, large sponges. We patted each other dry with fluffy towels. Doreen donned a short, bright, flowery sundress, sans undergarments, allowing a generous glimpse of her magnificent cleavage and smooth thighs. I wore casual shorts and a t-shirt.

Doreen cheerily danced to the kitchen where she indulged her love of cooking, while I began the more mundane clean-up chores - changing and washing the bed linens, collecting and washing our clothes and generally returning our home to its well ordered state.

After a leisurely, delicious dinner, a little wine, general and intimate conversation we watched one of our favorite movies, The Big Sleep, cuddled comfortably on our couch.

In bed, naked amongst newly washed satin sheets, I lay on my back, holding my wife loosely, her head on my chest.

As we fell asleep she said, "Better late than never."

"Huh?" I replied sleepily.

Raising her head and looking lovingly in my eyes, Doreen repeated, "Better late than never, Frank."

The puzzled expression on my face elicited an explanation from my beautiful, enigmatic wife, "That after all these years of searching, we should finally find each other. What are the odds of two old codgers with unusual, but compatible, sexual needs being able to live out their lives happily together? Not high. I'm grateful."

So saying she kissed me gently on the lips and lowered her head to my chest.

"Me too," I agreed as we both fell into contented sleep.