What's Love Got To Do With It? Ch. 05

The boys couldn't have been gone more than 5 minutes before the doorbell went. I hadn't even had the time for a cup of tea, but walked carefully to my room preserving my boyfriend's treat in my panties and sent my dishevelled, spunk-spattered flatmate to the door in nothing but panties and a T-shirt.

I too was a cum-covered mess: it was in my hair, my mouth; it caked my face, neck, and breasts and dribbled liberally into last night's panties from both holes. I sat on the bed and put on a fresh, salmon-coloured chemise and a pair of white stockings before slipping my feet into a bright pink pair of 6-inch heels.

I wanted to look good for my boy. I wanted him to see me as more than just a vessel for Man-Cum, but as his Goddess and Mistress and a pair of high-high-heels are the perfect vehicle for reminding a boy of his place in a relationship. It is my experience that boys and men are much more pliable when their attention is focussed on long, stockinged legs and totteringly high heels.

I don't think he could have even looked at Gemma he was in my room that quickly and on his knees in front of me, his eyes drinking in the vision of his well-fucked girlfriend. His grin was infectious though and when he asked me if I'd had a good night I grinned right back at him:

"Am I beautiful to you, this morning?"

"You are beautiful, you are always beautiful", he replied earnestly.

"But do you find me particularly attractive like this?" I stood up, towering above him in my heels and I watched as his eyes travelled from them, up my stockings and under my chemise to my sodden panties which were exuding the unmistakeable aroma of fresh cum. His eyes closed and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.

I stepped even closer, the hem of my chemise brushing against his nose as I grasped his hair and pulled his head back so I could look down into his pretty blue eyes.

"I asked," I said sharply, "whether you find me particularly attractive like this. Covered in other men's cum? Smelling of other men? Every hole filled with their hot spunk?"

I could see he was unsure of how he should answer but there was no way I was letting him off the hook: "would you like to taste them? There were two this time, you know...and another woman!" I let that sink in as I stood over him, dominating him; invading his space; thrusting my cheating pussy against his nose:

"No tasting...yet, just smell them, feel how wet and full my panties are. There's so much more inside me. They fucked your girlfriend so many times her holes are aching with the memory of it. Do you like to think about that?"

He nodded, his nose brushing up and down against the gusset of my panties.

"Were you thinking about it last night, alone in your hotel room?"

He nodded again and I pressed his nose hard against my clit and moaned from the direct contact.

"You knew what I was doing, didn't you?" I rubbed my nubbin against his answering nod.

"You wanted me to do it?" Another nuzzle.

"You touched yourself picturing how you would find me? How you hoped to find me?" Yet another nuzzle.

I let go of his hair and stepped back so I could sit on the bed and he followed, still on his knees, until he was between my open legs staring hungrily at my pussy from his subservient position and I suddenly found myself unsure of how to continue.

On the one hand this was the person I loved most in the world and all I wanted to do was spend hours making out with him, just kissing and snuggling and being told that everything would be alright, that what I had done was good, that both of us wanted that for me. I wanted reassurance.

Instead of that I found myself dealing with the reality that I wanted it for me but he, obviously, wanted it for himself.

He was greedy for other men's cum; hungry for it.

He didn't want to kiss me before he began, he wanted to feast on my holes until he'd devoured all of it and only then would I get the boy I loved back. I had to put my love on hold because, right now, what he needed the most was permission to worship me; permission to worship the men who could do for me what he felt he could not and, in truth, what he could not.

I was the vessel through which he could safely worship other men's cocks!

And, to be fair, hadn't I done the same thing the night before? I had hardly thought of him at all as I worshipped the two magnificent cocks of Logan and Jaimie; I had surrendered myself to them in the same way Stephen was now surrendering himself to me.

Not once: as they fucked me over and over, as they thrust their thick dicks into my mouth, as they sprayed their jizz indiscriminately into and over my body and as I came over and over again did I ever give a moment's thought to my boyfriend. So really, I was no less greedy than he for fuckjuice that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with desire.

"You want this, don't you? You really want this." His eyes met mine and some of my anxiety must have communicated itself in that look. He reached out, gently placed his hands on my knees and, maintaining our intimate eye-contact, nodded once.

I knew how this went. My moment of uncertainty had passed. I was back in control, comfortable with my innate dominant nature. I pushed him back and stood, once again,to tower above him in my pretty white stockings and bright pink, 6 inch heels...