My Cum Eating Husband

At one point, with our friends gathered near, I leaned in and whispered, "I'm getting excited about watching you do it. Don't you even think of letting me down."

It made me feel wicked to do that, and I was surprised how satisfied and pleased I was with myself for doing it. The heat was building in both of us, and after the second round of drinks, we excused ourselves and headed out. I didn't want alcohol to interfere with his fantasy or my desire to make it happen for him.

The drive home became a teasing adventure as well. I playfully pressed my hand against his cock as he drove, but didn't rub. He was too tense.

"I've been thinking," I said. "We're not going to do this in the dark. I want to see your face as I rub myself on it. I want to see your cum on your face and in your mouth. And, I know how long it takes for it all to drain out. We're talking minutes of bathroom time you'll be saving me."

He shoved my hand away from his cock. "Stop! Stop it! You don't know how close I am already!"

"Well, that would be a waste," I teased.

Later, as expected, after he came in me, he made excuses that he really didn't want to. "I can't do it," he said.

"You don't have to. I have to because I made a promise," I said. He didn't fight it.

I rolled him over onto his back and squatted above his head. He didn't resist, and at that point, I wouldn't have cared if he had tried. His eyes were on my cunt, no doubt focusing on our glistening juices, and I lowered myself until I could begin grinding on him. At first, he lapped at my flesh. It felt good, but I wanted more.

"You're just barely getting a taste, honey," I said. "But there's so much more. Go find it."

He began exploring inside tentatively. I loved it. I could hear the noises as he did so. A little smacking, some grunting even. "Oh, baby, you haven't even started," I said. I rocked my hips a bit to coat his nose and face.

I contracted the right muscles. It's hard to describe the sound it created in him, but I was certain he hadn't expected his mouth to fill so quickly. "Keep at it," I said. "A promise is a promise, and I expect you to get it all out." Remembering his trigger, I added, "And eat it. All of it."

He eventually stopped, and I let him up for air. "That was a lot of cum. Did you get all of it?" I asked.

"Yes," he murmured.

I raised myself off of him. "And you swallowed it all?" I asked. I could tell that this was playing really well in his head space by his reaction. He wasn't smiling, and he wasn't disgusted. He was overwhelmed.

He nodded.

"That's not good enough. I asked you a question." It was a tone I hadn't really practiced since babysitting years earlier, but it felt... appropriate.

"Yes, I swallowed it all," he said.

"Was it everything you hoped for, eating your cum?" I asked, teasingly.

"Yes," he said.

"Did you like the taste?" I asked. I was curious about that.

"Not particularly, but it wasn't bad."

"Good!" I said, "because I think you know I'm going to make you do it again."

I glanced over to find that his cock was hardening again. Well, that was even better! I rolled over onto my back and spread my legs. "Put some more in there."

"Oh my god," he said.

"Uh-huh," I replied. "Fuck me long and good and give me every drop you have left. And then I'm going to what?"

"Make me eat it again," he said.

"Yeah, I am," I said. "And I think you should thank me for it afterwards."

We cuddled later, his face between my breasts. It was a safe way to talk about "it," the lack of eye contact minimizing the discomfort I'm sure he felt now that his cock was nowhere near a state of arousal.

"That was good for me," I said. "You?"

"Yeah," he said. "I can't believe that happened."

"You'd never tasted it before?" I asked.

"No. Never. Just the pre-cum. You know, and then I..."

"... chicken out," I said.

"But what I liked most was you making me do it," he said.

"You don't think I'm weird?" he asked.

"Not if it makes you happy," I said. "That's kind of what I want to do all the time, you know?" It was his kink, and I needed to know if that was satisfied or something we might do again. "Well, I liked it a lot," I said. "From the teasing, the sex, the grinding, the tongue... And especially the teasing, actually. I liked that it made you so uncomfortable. I might like to do this again sometime. What do you think?" I asked.

"I'm glad you liked it. That helps a lot." He sounded relieved and sincere. "Yes, but never ask me if I want to. Just do it, as often as you like."

The way he said it, I knew he meant often.

Remembering that made something click. I had been thinking about it backwards. In my view, this was something I was doing for him. But I could see that he wanted to be doing this for me. Like saving his cum.

I watched the video one last time. I was wet. There would be no shame in arriving home a sexual mess. And I realized this wasn't his kink any more. It was ours.

It was only complicated if we made it complicated. And I had more than enough clues about Steven that, if they didn't explain the why, they certainly explained the how. It took a lot of courage for him to share his needs with me. The recording... that was all the evidence I needed to confirm how I should manage this. It was time.

"Even as turned on as I am," he said, "this is incredibly awkward for me." Steven was in his recliner, his cock hard, stroking himself slowly.

I took a few moments watching him, smirking.

"Good," I said. "I'll make sure to keep it that way. So, you've been at it the whole time like I told you?" I asked. Steven seemed to have a little glaze in his eyes.

"Yes, pretty much. Hard not to."

"Just... thinking about me coming home? What I was going to make you do?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

I nodded and picked up my phone. I turned the volume on high and played the recording, holding it so he could see it. His breathing picked up a bit, and his grip on his cock became tighter.

"Have you ever masturbated in that chair before?" I asked.

He didn't answer immediately, as clear an answer as any. I rephrased it before he could answer. "When you've done that before, I'm guessing it's after I've gone to bed."

He nodded. He needed to be embarrassed, maybe even humiliated, to make this kink work for him. I stood up and removed my blouse and bra, his eyes on my breasts as I sat down again.

"Steven. I expect you to answer when I ask you a question. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"When you've masturbated in the chair, were you thinking about sex with me? Someone else? A past girlfriend or an actress?"

He shook his head then caught his non-verbal reply. "Sometimes you, otherwise, no."

"We've been married three and a half years, and you first told me about your kink almost a year ago. I've been sleeping just a couple rooms away, able to make your dreams come true, but you didn't come to me. Instead, you've sat there dwelling on your little secret, isn't that right?"

"Yes, pretty much," he said.

"I think you've been sitting there hoping I'd happen to get out of bed, walk in to check on you and catch you. I'd be surprised, maybe even angry, and I'd ask you what you were jerking off to. With your cock hard, you'd have less of a problem telling me what you were fantasizing about, and then I'd make you eat your cum. Is that what you were fantasizing?"

"Guilty as charged," he said. "I didn't realize it was so obvious."

I reached down to remove my heels, freeing my feet. "Stay there," I said.

I went into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and filled it with hot water. I took a kitchen towel from the drawer and brought it back to the room, placing them on the coffee table. He looked curious. I sat on the couch and put my feet on the table and wriggled my toes. The silent treatment seemed appropriate. He watched, tensely. I could see that he was figuring out what this suggested.

"You've been here all day today, jerking off. But you haven't been fantasizing about making love to me, or even fucking me. You've been thinking about me making you eat your cum. Don't deny it. How should that make me feel?"

He looked thoughtful. "I, uh..."

"Out with it." I said it gently. This was a deliciously safe space.

"I love you more than anything, but I'm frightened a bit. About what we've become. About what you think of me."

I smiled at him then stood and removed my skirt. I was soaking wet, and from his expression, I could tell he saw that. I sat down, leaning back and spreading my legs, watching his eyes focus there. I casually grazed my sex with a finger.

"What I think about you... Let me tell you about my day. I recorded my husband stark naked, in the garage, stroking his magnificent cock. He stayed there while I backed up, never covering himself. He did it because I told him to. I've watched this video a number of times today. I liked it. I liked that I told you to do it. And, I liked that you did it."

"My client, Paul, has offered on a house. He hugged me to celebrate, felt my butt and invited me to celebrate at his hotel with an obviously hard cock in his pants. Interesting day, you might say. I spend a day without underwear with a man wanting nothing more than to fuck me senseless... and think about how that makes me feel... horny, if you need some help. And I have another at home not thinking about fucking me but wanting to eat his cum. Weirdly, that turns me on too. I've been wet all day. Good news. I've come to love your kink and my role in it.

"Come here. I want to see your cock." He rose and stood beside me. I tapped the camera app on my phone to record. "Here. Point it at me." He was quite happy about it, as I tweaked my nipples and even spread my legs.

"Do I still turn you on?" I asked.

"Hell, yes," he said.

"Good, but too bad for now. Follow my finger." I reached to the head of his cock, shiny and wet with pre-cum that was trailing down the sides. I gathered some with my index finger and tasted it, looking at my camera lens. I know how to perform.

"That tastes good. Doesn't it? I'm sure you've tasted plenty today," I said.

"Quite a bit, yes," he replied.

I reclaimed my phone and grasped his balls, again testing their weight, then grabbing just above the sac. "It looks like you've been saving quite a lot," I said. "Tell me why."

He faltered. I gave him a look of disappointment. I reached for the tip again, smearing my thumb and forefinger in his juice. I made a show of it, slowly licking them. "That's tasty, but you weren't thinking about sex with me at all, were you?"

"No."

I smiled. "Were you saving your cum for me?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"That's sweet. But all of your cum is for you, isn't it?" I asked.

"Well, no, it's for you..."

"You don't orgasm when you jerk off anymore do you?"

"Uh, no."

"Right. It's not so that there will be more cum for me. It's more for me to make you eat. And we agree that you want to eat every last drop, isn't that right?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Look at the phone. Because you're my..." I knew he could finish it.

"... cum eating husband," he said.

Hmm. "Don't look so grim about it. Be happy about it. Try again."

He repeated it, but he didn't have the lilt of enjoyment that I was hoping for. "Again. I'm recording. Come on. Third time is the charm. Look at the phone. Sell me on this whole thing why I should give up a normal sex life for this. What and why."

He grimaced, took a breath, and then he did it well. "I like for you to make me eat every last drop of cum because I'm you're cum eating husband!"

"That was great! You like it when I make you... Help yourself to a pre-cum treat." I watched him wet his fingers in his precum and lick them clean. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" I teased.

"Actually, it was, with you recording."

"Huh," I said. "Your stiff cock says otherwise." I put my feet back on the table. "Get down on your knees close to my feet." When he had gotten into place, I turned serious. "Now, wash my feet."

He initially looked confused but did it, very obviously something I'd never asked before. When he was done, I said, "Lick my toes."

Steven didn't budge. He didn't look confused either. He was just disagreeable. He obviously had expected something different.

"You're going to do what I say. If I told you to cum on my toes and then lick them, you would, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, somewhat miserably I thought, desperate for a relief.

"Then lick my toes."

He leaned forward and tentatively began. I didn't know that he would, but I hoped? And a little part of me was excited about it.

"That tickles!" I said. "Try sucking on them, too," I added. It got to feel pretty good. He began massaging my feet as he licked as well.

"I think I could get to like this. That feels really good." Watching him kneel, holding my foot while sucking on my toes turned me on. This was going to be a great video. "The other foot, too."

After a few minutes, I decided I'd get to the point. "Keep sucking while I talk. You know that you need me to make you eat your cum. You said as much. But think about it. You need me to make you do something you could do yourself. Doing it yourself doesn't turn you on. It's me making me you do it. You are submissive, Steven. And I didn't put it together until today." He looked up as if he was going to say something. "Don't interrupt. That's right. Keep sucking my toes."

"But I've figured out that it goes beyond that. You enjoyed it quite a bit when I've teased you about all that cum I'm going to make you eat, from the first time to today. It really turns you on not only knowing that it's coming but that I like making you uncomfortable."

"Look at you, your cock is so hard and you're not even touching it. Being made to suck my toes turns you on. And then you obeyed my crazy request this morning about going into the garage without any complaint. Only, it wasn't a request, was it? No. I told you to do it. And you did it. You like the humiliation. Like right now. Steven, you like me being dominant, don't you?"

He had a tear in the corner of his eye. I felt guilty for capturing it on video. "In this, yes," he said.

"In this," I repeated. "When it involves cum-eating? Is that it?"

"Yes," he said.

"You'll do anything for me if I make you eat your cum, right?"

He nodded.

"You're wrong. It's not just that. It's everything that leads up to it as well. I get to decide how often you cum. That means I control how much cum there will be. And I get to decide when, where, and what occasion to make you eat your cum. You like the way that sounds, don't you?"

He stopped sucking to answer. "Keep sucking. That was rhetorical. Humiliation comes from me teasing you about it. It's also doing things I tell you to do. Here's what is in store for you. Some of those times and places might be inconvenient. I might send you to the bathroom in a restaurant to return with your mouth full. I might make you do it when we hike on a trail, or sit in a parking lot. I'll tease you endlessly about it. I might make you wait 10 or 15 minutes after you cum before you can eat it when it's dried out and any thoughts about sex are long gone. I'm not wrong about this. Look at your cock, Steven."

He did. I could see his chest moving, hear his breaths.

"It's leaking, and you're not even touching it. Imagine we're at the breakfast table, and I tell you to cum in your coffee. Imagine if... imagine if I told a friend about your kink."

He looked horrified, but his cock was rock hard.

"I wouldn't do that. But even that turned you on. Now, lick up all that pre-cum and tell me when you're done."

I closed my eyes. There was no need to give him the pleasure of me watching.

"Done," he said.

"I think it's probably a good point to settle this. If you refuse to do what I tell you, what should I do about that?" I asked. I was really, really curious as to what he might say.

"It's probably better for you to come up with that," he said.

"No," I said. "I don't think so. "I have ideas, of course, and I think you have your own. Out with them. Now."

He was trying to restrain himself from having an orgasm, I could see based on how he didn't dare to touch his throbbing cock.

"Uh, make me cum in my mouth." He looked away from me.

Okay, then. "I didn't know you could do that. Have you done it before?" I asked.

"I've tried."

"And chickened out," I added.

"Yeah."

"Well, never again in anything I tell you to do. I don't know what the consequences might be if you don't do what I tell you, but we'll figure that out together. Okay, then. I had it in mind that I should kiss you to seal the deal, but that wouldn't really be appropriate. It's time, Steven. Pull the coffee table closer."

He did, and I placed my feet on it again and wriggled my toes. "Is the table clean?" I asked.

"Yes, I think so," he said. "Ah, I see."

"Every. Single. Drop. That's the rule going forward. No matter where it lands. Cum on my feet. Make me proud."

He actually looked excited about it. He hardly stroked himself before his cum shot everywhere. It hadn't been a week, so I'm sure larger loads were possible, but, wow! The first streams hit my kneecap, then when he gained better control, he literally doused my feet. And to give him credit, he kept stroking himself until nothing continued to come out.

"Wow, Steven. Look at all that cum! I'm impressed. And I'm impressed you saved it all for you." I gave him a great smile and wiggled my toes. His cum softened and starting to ooze to different places. I lifted a foot and angled it to guide his cum along the sole of my foot.

His cum trickled to my calf as I raised my leg. I reached for some of his initial shot on my knee and made a show of placing it on my clit. I waved my foot in front of his face. "This is what you want, Steven, isn't it? Your cum, and me making you eat it?"

"God yes," he said.

"Good. You just traded control of your sex life for it. Stick out your tongue. Every last drop, Steven. Begin with my foot. And, hey, just like when I've sucked you, keep eye contact with me as best you can."

It's fair to say that I've never been licked, like, really licked other than my neck, ear and breasts. I tried to record it but got distracted and stopped. And, I was at the point where I needed some attention. I usually masturbated on my stomach, but that wouldn't work here, and if he was doing some earthy in a way, I wanted something raw.

"Steven, keep your eyes here." I pointed to my cunt. I began gently enough, unfolding myself in front of him, teasing my shape. I'd spread myself for him before, of course, usually when he was about to enter me. But I'd never just done it for show. I did that now, quickly inserting two fingers, taking satisfaction as he tried to watch and keep about his task. It was lewd. I didn't mind being lewd. I leaned back and closed my eyes, fucking myself with one hand while tweaking my nipples with the other. There was no longer any mystery to watching him jerk off, but... I enjoyed being watched. And while Steven was my audience, damned if it didn't turn me on even more to think about Paul, just trying to get a peek. If he could see me now...

He finally stopped, and I could finally move my legs to get everything just right. It took only a minute to find a massive orgasm of my own.

When I caught my breath, I asked, "Did you like that?"

"Which? Yes, both," he said.

Oh, right.

I looked myself over. "Did you eat all of it?"

"Yes, I'm certain I did."

"Well, not so fast. I put a touch of it right here, only now it's somewhere inside me. We'll save that for... later."