My Cum Eating Husband

"Come here and let me kiss you," I said. The taste was immediately evident. "Well, that's familiar but different," I said. "I know I've never eaten that much cum. You did well, my cum-eating husband."

We finally rearranged ourselves on the couch, with him snuggled behind me, a hand on one of my breasts, gently toying with it.

I remembered my phone and picked it up from the floor. "Do you want to watch this with me sometime?" I asked.

"No. Never," he said.

"That's too bad. It's really hot. I'm sure it would look good on our TV. Lori is going to love this when she comes over tomorrow."

"WHAT?" His alarm was priceless.

"It's just girl talk," I said. "We keep it to ourselves. And besides, it's precious that you're embarrassed by your kink." It was hard to keep a straight face.

"No, you said you wouldn't tell anyone," he said.

Ah, Steven. "But, dear, I didn't say anything about showing a friend. And I can't say that I haven't thought about how interesting it would be to hear her reaction or how embarrassing it would be for you, but you're right. I wouldn't. I know how you look at her sometimes. And, if I'm not mistaken, your cock is getting harder. It seems the idea of my friend watching you eat your cum turns you on."

"That would be..." He was clearly without words.

"Honey. Just let that thought sink in. And when you're ready for it, I'm sure you'll let me know. Now, I really enjoyed what we just did. But I also like a hard cock. Now take all that teasing and humiliation, and channel it to fuck me harder than I fuck with your mind. That's what I need."

Epilogue:

An hour later, I hurt. He outdid himself, or... his cock did. And his attitude was... he clearly had fed off what I did to him. He bent me over the car in a kind of revenge scene and recorded me begging me to fuck him there. He didn't fuck me for long. He opened the sliding glass doors to the patio and pushed me outside fully naked, making me beg again while I tried to cover myself. I had to suck his cock at the door before he let me in. He made me spread my legs again on the couch and play with myself while he recorded me. And, I... enjoyed it. I enjoyed him being in charge.

"I'm your cum-eating husband," he said, "but while I was licking your toes I realized I want you to be my slut sometimes, too," he said. "Anything to say?"

"Use me however you want, but do it now?" I pleaded. I added, "sir?"

He picked me up at the waist and carried me to the bed. He always lasted longer the second time, but this... He'd squeezed my breasts, pulled and twisted on my nipples, stretched my legs as far apart as they go, spanked my ass at times and pounded me senseless in any and every position he wanted. It was rougher than he'd ever taken me, and it felt right. Still... when we were done and catching our breath...

"Honey?" I asked.

His face was on his pillow, having collapsed there.

"Yes?"

"This wasn't the end of it. Everything we talked about. You're still my cum-eating husband," I said. More confidently than I felt at that point. The tables had definitely turned.

"Yesss," he replied. He sounded tired, but I could still hear the need in his voice.

Chirpily, I said, "Good! You left more cum inside me. Get to work, but take it slow. I'm sore."