A Husband Cleaning Up His Mess - Doing it for Real
It was only a fantasy. It’s only a fantasy. A persistent, slightly obsessive thought. Some days, it runs in his mind, a loop, making him salivate, giving him surges of desire. As soon as the thought arises, sometimes in spite of him, other time through his own desire, he cannot help but be mesmerized, wishing to contemplate endlessly, blushing. Is he blushing from his desire or from the slight shame he feels? Probably a little of both. This particular shame excites him in a peculiar way. What would his wife think? Would she judge him? Was it normal? Would it ever become reality?
The image was precise and played on repeat in his mind. Fantasies don’t need context, they exist is the mere repetition of a fragment. Images cut by a strobe light: his wife lustfuly lying on the bed in a crotchless bodysuit – something she wears only for these occasions, so he knows what he’ll have to do. The entire scenario is contained in this piece of lingerie. It’s a tacit agreement; it activates the fantasy, points towards its imminent and inevitable realization. There is no going back now. She got undressed, they were kissing, and she put it on. Her body suddenly became full of implied meaning. His heart skips and paces. He knows. They take their time, they make the desire grow, the sap flow. They caress, kiss, suck, lick. They become lust. She welcomes him between her legs. He penetrates her slowly, they make love tenderly, long supple strokes in her warm, glistening slit. “Fuck me hard, pound me, and then eat me, just a bit” she says, and goes on, naughtily “a little appetizer”. Already, it tastes of love, of lust, of a woman’s desire stirred by his hard manhood. As he’s hungrily kissing her wet vulva: “Are you looking forward to it?” Everything was said. In his fantasy, she knows how much he loves the idea of eating their lovemaking, entirely. Some evenings, maybe over a bottle of wine, she would perhaps say: “I hope you’re hungry tonight”. She would tell him that she wants to be completely filled; she knows how much he likes it. Such a cumslut. “I want a big mess for you to clean up, honey”. Who knows, maybe she could even find some pleasure in this sloppy oral? And would she go to the lengths of playfully building up a load over a few days? Warning him a few days in advance of what is to come, sucking him sloppily without letting him cum. “It’s to build up a really nice, creamy load for Friday, my love”. And she would make him eat her, make her orgasm without reciprocating. “Will you be as enthousiastic on Friday?”
Would she tease him about his kink? Would she be compassionate about the warm, sloppy mess he must clean up with his mouth? Jealous perhaps? Feeling his balls on Friday night, wearing her crotchless bodysuit – her womanhood exposed, enhanced. “Oh honey, I don’t know, I think there might be too much tonight. I’ll be very sloppy. Are you sure you want to do this?” she says, rubbing herself, grinning. She won’t let him back down. She knows he doesn’t want to back down. She just wants to hear him say it. She wants him to say: “Yes, I want it so bad”. “Come here”. Her legs are spread wide open. “Let’s make a wet creampie. I think you know how this is going to end”. His long strokes, their kissing mouths. He slows the pace, feeling his orgasm approach and it happens. She grabs the base of his cock with her thumb and her index to feel him pulsating as he unloads deep in her. Warm spurts of semen fill her up. She can imagine the feeling of his cock pulsating in her mouth, she knows the feeling of his cum against her tongue by heart, his taste. She knows what’s in store for him. Her pussy clamps his cock, milking him completely. “Oh my God honey, I feel it in me. It’s so warm. I’m completely soaked, it’s dripping everywhere. Oh my God, my cunt is a sloppy mess”. She takes his heads, gently pushes him down. “Your desert is ready. This is what you wanted. Baby, I’m giving it to you. So much of it. Eat me, eat it all”.
She spreads her legs wide, pulls her knees back. The crotchless bodysuit frames her dripping, sloppy, freshly fucked cunt perfectly. He dives in as she holds his head and grabs his hair, making sure he gets it all, grinding his face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this, cleaning my messy little pussy with your mouth. You naughty boy”.
Some nights, all he wants is to make her cum after they made love. Adore, worship, taste her soiled feminity, taste love, lust, their bodies, their intimate union. Is it wrong? What would his wife think of this?
***
He sent her the text above on Monday, not knowing how she would react. She sent back a wink – that was it – and he nearly lost it. That evening, when she got home from work, he was in the kitchen, preparing supper, the c***dren were playing around. She walked up to him, took his head in her hands and kissed him with her tongue. She didn’t say anything, they didn’t talk about it; it wasn’t the place nor the time, but she let him knew that it would happen. The words he sent and what they described would become reality. This much was clear. This made him nervous. Would it be like he imagine? Would they say the right things? Would they be at ease? Would she find him cleaning up disgusting? Would he?
Later that night, when the k**s were asleep, they still didn’t talk about it and he was too nervous, too insecure at this moment to bring it up. She went up to take her bath before going to bed and when he got to the bedroom, he saw one of her crotchless bodysuits on the bed. She came up behind him and said: “this is for Friday, my love”. He could barely breath. “You know what this means, right?” she continued. “You don’t get to cum until then, but I do”. She got in the bed, grabbed her purple dildo. “Get it wet”. He took it in his mouth and sucked on it. She stuffed it in her. “Kiss me”. He did, and he caressed her body, her soft, heavy breasts, her neck, her beautiful belly. “I think I’d rather your cock”. She took out the dildo, white and glistening with her juices and told him to lick it clean and fuck her. “Don’t cum in me though, not tonight”. He did his best and with the help of her magic wand, she came on his cock while he thrust long, deep strokes. Without her even asking, he went down on her very gently, just to have a taste. She grabbed his cock and licked it clean. “It’s only fair that I have a taste too. Though it’s nothing compared to the mess that’s waiting for you” she said, fondling his balls. She never did this, yet he found it so sexy when a woman cleaned the cock that fucked her, that made her cum. He almost came in her mouth. She kissed him good night and fell asleep. He couldn’t believe his luck.
In her bath, she had thought about how to react to his letter. The details of what he described didn’t particularly arouse her. It wasn’t that she found it disgusting; she swallowed his cum without hesitation. Yet something bothered her a little. Maybe it was the fact that she had always took pride in giving oral to completion, semen was her thing. Maybe it was the fact that, though she swallowed, she wasn’t aroused by semen per se. Or maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t sure what her role was in all of this. Was he simply looking to masturbate through her, with her? Was she necessary in this fantasy? Could she play the part and still be herself? Nevertheless, the idea of offering him what he so deeply seemed to desire did appeal to her. She had nothing to lose, and barely had anything to do at all. All she had to do was explicitly acknowledge that she would give him what he wanted. He seemed to want to hear her say it. Wine would help. Besides, she’d get oral out of it… For one thing, this had put sex in the forefront. Naked in her bath, trying to figure all this out, she did feel sexual, desired, in control somehow. In control even though he directed the scenario, he dictated what was going to happen.
He spent the entire week thinking about Friday night. Every once in a while, he would grab her, or she would grab him, reminding each other of what was now an inevitable conclusion.
They made dinner reservations and planned for the grandparents to babysit the k**s for the night.
She asked him whether he’d liked her to be waxed, lips bare or whether he’d like her natural. His choice. He chose bald. “Too bad” she said, “I want to feel like a woman when you clean me up, I want it to be really musky and sloppy”. And then she said something that really turned him on. “This time I’ll be natural, but don’t worry, next time I wax, you’ll get to taste the difference”. This wouldn’t be a one time thing. It would happen again. Holy fuck.
On Friday, she sent him a image of her in her bodysuit, legs spread with her beautiful hairy pussy in front of a mirror. The text said: “I’m ready for you to make a big mess. Are you? ;) xxx”
He nearly lost it at work. “I will fill you up so good”.
“Oh yes you will. And you know what you’re going to do.”
She was going to call him a cumslut, but didn’t. Maybe he won’t like that, she thought. To be honest, she wasn’t sure herself whether she liked to think of her husband as a cumslut.
The day stretched forever. And finally, dinner came. At dinner, they drank wine, talked about anything, sometimes hinting at what was still to come, but it wasn’t what their conversation was mostly about. Little hints, that’s all. “Make sure you keep some room for desert” she teased. They walked home, holding hands. They got home, the k**s were away. They took a warm bath with some more wine. In the warm water, their bodies loosened up. His cock was swollen, his balls completely full, aching since she sent her text. She fondled him with her feet. He couldn’t take it anymore. He hadn’t cum in a week, and what a week it had been. All he wanted to do was to cum deep in her, yet, he also wanted to hold off the moment indefinitely. Perhaps this was as much about anticipation as it was about fulfilling a fantasy.
“Oh honey, I’m all clean, but I’m also so very horny. It would be a shame to get all messy” she said. Wait here just a second. She went to their room and set up the iPad. She was going to film this without him knowing. She told him to come in the bedroom. As he watched her, she put on her bodysuit. “Do you like what I’m wearing honey? Do you know what this means? If you make a mess, and I really want you to, I think we both know how we’re going to clean me up, don’t we”? The reality of it all made him a bit dizzy. Perhaps it was also the wine. She lit some candles and got on the bed.
“I’ve been thinking about how this is going to happen and I can’t quite decide. Should I tie you to the bed and edge you with my mouth, my tits, my hungry pussy and make you come in me and then ride your face? Or should I lie on my back, let you fuck me and watch you clean me up while I hold your head?”
“Do I have a say?” he asked.
“Maybe. I think I’d rather have my legs spread and watch you”.
“Can you suck me off a little first?” He wanted to feel her warm mouth on the head of his cock, rock gently up and down, preparing him for the finale, sucking his cock like a straw made of flesh to get all the cum out.
“Lie on your back”. She stepped above him and squatted above his face. Her holes were inches away from his mouth. He could smell her, almost taste her. She took him in her mouth. “You’re so fucking hard. You must really want this”.
Tonight, he was finally going to release deep in his wife, she wanted him to, and they both knew exactly why.
“Make sure I’m very wet for you, my love. Take my dildo and pound my pussy good. I have a feeling you won’t last long enough to get all my juices out, and I want them to be flowing abundantly”. Was this really happening? Were they talking like this for real? Their sex had never been this explicit, never had they talked so freely about the wet, warm, intoxicating side effects of arousal.
“Fuck me, now. You’ve waited enough. Get your wife all sloppy with cum and clean her up”.
He put her on her back, spread her legs, licked it one last time before she was completely soiled, and penetrated her. He became wild. His mouth was licking her body, his hands were grabbing her thighs, her feet, her breasts, her hair. She grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper. “Shit you’re fucking me good”. Her tits were bouncing underneath her bodysuit. “Honey I’m going to cum”. She was actually going to cum before him. Her nails clawed his back and she tipped over the edge. Her wet cunt spasmed on his cock. He looked down. His cock was full of her frothy white juices. She was already a mess. He wrapped his finger and his thumb around his shaft and sc****d all her cum. She looked at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them up.
“Kiss me” she ordered. As he did, he slid back in her and prepared for his messy finale. “I can taste myself. I wonder how we’re going to taste combined”.
“I’m close, honey”, he warned her.
“Oh God. If I were you, I’d be scared with the load you’re about to shoot in me. If you told me to eat your seven-day load, I’d be nervous. I bet you like the idea of eating a lot, though, don’t you? I want you to unload deep in me. Do it slowly and don’t move as you’re cumming. I want to feel your contractions, feel you unloading in me.”
“Fuck I’m going to cum”
“Shoot it, pump it in me, your pretty little wife, fill me up, make a warm, wet, sloppy mess”.
This dirty talk brought him over the edge. He knew how big the load would be, and he would feel bad pumping it in her mouth. There’d be too much. But thinking of how big his load would be for him to eat, and having his wife know how badly he wanted to eat it all, made him lose it. He stuffed himself deep in her and it began. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and felt him shoot spurt after spurt. Maybe a dozen. A mess. A sloppy mess.
And suddenly all these thoughts he had repeated in his mind felt foreign to him, slightly disgusting even. He had shot so much semen in his wife’s wet pussy. He slid out slowly. He didn’t really want to do this anymore. He would rather grab a towel, lie down and fall asleep. “Holy fuck! I’m a fucking mess. It’s overflowing”. He actually really didn’t want to go through with this. “Let’s keep it a fantasy”, he felt like saying. She grabbed his head. “Clean me up, all of it. Make me cum with your mouth”.
He went down on her and cleaned her. Completely.
“I can’t believe you’re actually doing it. This is happening. Fuck.”
***
They lay in bed side by side. She was still wearing her bodysuit; he had a persistent odor around his lips, and a lingering taste in his mouth. The taste and smell, so peculiar, pungeant and deep, salty, sticky and thick, were at first somewhat unpleasant but as he kept going at it, he became able to look at himself doing what he was doing, witnessing the fantasy. He had managed go beyond the shame and disgust that immediately followed his orgasm and ride once more the thrilling wave of desire and fantasy. Now, laying in bed, the smell and taste made him horny, were a reminder that the fantasy had been realized. In fact, this whole “fetish”, if that’s what you want to call it, was about taste, smell, texture. He had made her cum while cleaning her up, he had tasted his own orgasm mixed with hers, it had covered his mouth completely. She got up to pee, but before she left the room, she glanced at him, smiled lovingly, got completely undressed and threw the lingerie on the bed.
When she walked back in, her nakedness marked a transition. They were now free from the scenario. It had been played out to its completion, its sloppy, naughty completion.
“Thank you for that” he said. He felt a little ashamed, but also grateful. This had been a complete lovemaking experience; he had taken it all, literally.
“How was it” she asked. “Was it like you imagined?”
“Yes and no. The lead up, the anticipation was the most erotic experience I’ve ever had. Having you tell me what I was going to do, what I was longing to do, having you in on it was better than in my wildest fantasy. But the actual act, the actual cleaning was a bit, how can I say, too much at first”.
“Was it too big a mess for you?” she teased. “I was quite a sloppy mess, wasn’t I? And you hadn’t cum in a week”.
His cock stood up.
“Oh look at you. I bet you’d want more! Too bad I drained you completely a few minutes ago”
“Oh honey, I could take a lot! Cum doesn’t scare me, quite the opposite. But immediately after my orgasm, my craving disappears completely. I didn’t want to go through with it, but at the same time I knew it’s something I wanted badly. I had to convince myself to do it for the memory of it. At that point, I wasn’t doing it in the moment, I was projecting myself forward, I had to try to look at myself doing it”.
“Men are strange. You cum and it’s like your semen extinguishes the desire entirely. It’s almost as if the sperm itself contained all your lust and as soon as it leaves your body, so does your sexual energy. For us, women, cumming only stokes the fire”
“Maybe that’s what this fantasy was all about. Taking back all my desire, eating it all to have it stay in me. The whole fantasy is about what happens after my orgasm. I had to overcome my drop in libido by convincing myself that the memory of my mouth cleaning your cumfilled, sloppy wide open cunt would arouse the fuck out of me.”
“Do you want to see it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I filmed it” she said.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes”. She got up and grabbed the iPad. Here. He went through the clip. The angle wasn’t the best – he couldn’t see the mess – but he knew exactly how it was, he remembered the taste, the smell, the texture. Looking at himself grab her legs and pin them to the bed, ejaculating thick ropes of sperm deep in her, seeing her hands grab his head and direct them at her wide open, freshly fucked pussy, and his face disappear in its sloppy wetness, he could recall the sensations, relive them, but this time full of desire.
She grabbed his erect uncut penis. “Would you like it if your cum played a bigger part in our sex life? Would you like to clean me up more often?” She went down on him and pulled back his foreskin. He had cum underneath his head. She took him in her mouth.
“I would”
“We can do that then my love. I promise, I’ll give it to you. Not all the time, I still want some for myself, and I still want to feel full of your cum. But we can definitely share. I can think of many ways for you to clean me up. You’ll be a good husband, won’t you? You’ll clean your little wife of all your fresh cum won’t you?”
“Oh I will. I’ll clean and worship every inch of your body”.
“All this talk has made me hungry for your cum. Do you mind if I try to suck out some more out of you?”
“Please do”.
She went down on him, stopping to enumerate the ways she’d feed him in the future. “How would you like it if I flipped you over and jerked you into your own mouth? And what about if I kissed you with a mouthful of your cum? Would you like that? And if I made you cum on my tits? You’ll get what you want, but tonight, I want what you have left for myself”. She worked him slowly, lovingly, caressing his cock gently so it would giver her what she seemed to desire desperately. Never again would he hesitate to feed her his thick, built up loads. And neither would she hesitate to feed them to him. Things would never be quite the same.
It was only a fantasy, until it became reality. Now, he knows and craves the taste, the smell, the feeling more than anything. And he’s been getting worked up by this new fantasy: how would it be to clean her up from another man’s cum? How would it be to make another man cum in his mouth with her watching? How much cum would he be willing to drink? Where would this end?
The image was precise and played on repeat in his mind. Fantasies don’t need context, they exist is the mere repetition of a fragment. Images cut by a strobe light: his wife lustfuly lying on the bed in a crotchless bodysuit – something she wears only for these occasions, so he knows what he’ll have to do. The entire scenario is contained in this piece of lingerie. It’s a tacit agreement; it activates the fantasy, points towards its imminent and inevitable realization. There is no going back now. She got undressed, they were kissing, and she put it on. Her body suddenly became full of implied meaning. His heart skips and paces. He knows. They take their time, they make the desire grow, the sap flow. They caress, kiss, suck, lick. They become lust. She welcomes him between her legs. He penetrates her slowly, they make love tenderly, long supple strokes in her warm, glistening slit. “Fuck me hard, pound me, and then eat me, just a bit” she says, and goes on, naughtily “a little appetizer”. Already, it tastes of love, of lust, of a woman’s desire stirred by his hard manhood. As he’s hungrily kissing her wet vulva: “Are you looking forward to it?” Everything was said. In his fantasy, she knows how much he loves the idea of eating their lovemaking, entirely. Some evenings, maybe over a bottle of wine, she would perhaps say: “I hope you’re hungry tonight”. She would tell him that she wants to be completely filled; she knows how much he likes it. Such a cumslut. “I want a big mess for you to clean up, honey”. Who knows, maybe she could even find some pleasure in this sloppy oral? And would she go to the lengths of playfully building up a load over a few days? Warning him a few days in advance of what is to come, sucking him sloppily without letting him cum. “It’s to build up a really nice, creamy load for Friday, my love”. And she would make him eat her, make her orgasm without reciprocating. “Will you be as enthousiastic on Friday?”
Would she tease him about his kink? Would she be compassionate about the warm, sloppy mess he must clean up with his mouth? Jealous perhaps? Feeling his balls on Friday night, wearing her crotchless bodysuit – her womanhood exposed, enhanced. “Oh honey, I don’t know, I think there might be too much tonight. I’ll be very sloppy. Are you sure you want to do this?” she says, rubbing herself, grinning. She won’t let him back down. She knows he doesn’t want to back down. She just wants to hear him say it. She wants him to say: “Yes, I want it so bad”. “Come here”. Her legs are spread wide open. “Let’s make a wet creampie. I think you know how this is going to end”. His long strokes, their kissing mouths. He slows the pace, feeling his orgasm approach and it happens. She grabs the base of his cock with her thumb and her index to feel him pulsating as he unloads deep in her. Warm spurts of semen fill her up. She can imagine the feeling of his cock pulsating in her mouth, she knows the feeling of his cum against her tongue by heart, his taste. She knows what’s in store for him. Her pussy clamps his cock, milking him completely. “Oh my God honey, I feel it in me. It’s so warm. I’m completely soaked, it’s dripping everywhere. Oh my God, my cunt is a sloppy mess”. She takes his heads, gently pushes him down. “Your desert is ready. This is what you wanted. Baby, I’m giving it to you. So much of it. Eat me, eat it all”.
She spreads her legs wide, pulls her knees back. The crotchless bodysuit frames her dripping, sloppy, freshly fucked cunt perfectly. He dives in as she holds his head and grabs his hair, making sure he gets it all, grinding his face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this, cleaning my messy little pussy with your mouth. You naughty boy”.
Some nights, all he wants is to make her cum after they made love. Adore, worship, taste her soiled feminity, taste love, lust, their bodies, their intimate union. Is it wrong? What would his wife think of this?
***
He sent her the text above on Monday, not knowing how she would react. She sent back a wink – that was it – and he nearly lost it. That evening, when she got home from work, he was in the kitchen, preparing supper, the c***dren were playing around. She walked up to him, took his head in her hands and kissed him with her tongue. She didn’t say anything, they didn’t talk about it; it wasn’t the place nor the time, but she let him knew that it would happen. The words he sent and what they described would become reality. This much was clear. This made him nervous. Would it be like he imagine? Would they say the right things? Would they be at ease? Would she find him cleaning up disgusting? Would he?
Later that night, when the k**s were asleep, they still didn’t talk about it and he was too nervous, too insecure at this moment to bring it up. She went up to take her bath before going to bed and when he got to the bedroom, he saw one of her crotchless bodysuits on the bed. She came up behind him and said: “this is for Friday, my love”. He could barely breath. “You know what this means, right?” she continued. “You don’t get to cum until then, but I do”. She got in the bed, grabbed her purple dildo. “Get it wet”. He took it in his mouth and sucked on it. She stuffed it in her. “Kiss me”. He did, and he caressed her body, her soft, heavy breasts, her neck, her beautiful belly. “I think I’d rather your cock”. She took out the dildo, white and glistening with her juices and told him to lick it clean and fuck her. “Don’t cum in me though, not tonight”. He did his best and with the help of her magic wand, she came on his cock while he thrust long, deep strokes. Without her even asking, he went down on her very gently, just to have a taste. She grabbed his cock and licked it clean. “It’s only fair that I have a taste too. Though it’s nothing compared to the mess that’s waiting for you” she said, fondling his balls. She never did this, yet he found it so sexy when a woman cleaned the cock that fucked her, that made her cum. He almost came in her mouth. She kissed him good night and fell asleep. He couldn’t believe his luck.
In her bath, she had thought about how to react to his letter. The details of what he described didn’t particularly arouse her. It wasn’t that she found it disgusting; she swallowed his cum without hesitation. Yet something bothered her a little. Maybe it was the fact that she had always took pride in giving oral to completion, semen was her thing. Maybe it was the fact that, though she swallowed, she wasn’t aroused by semen per se. Or maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t sure what her role was in all of this. Was he simply looking to masturbate through her, with her? Was she necessary in this fantasy? Could she play the part and still be herself? Nevertheless, the idea of offering him what he so deeply seemed to desire did appeal to her. She had nothing to lose, and barely had anything to do at all. All she had to do was explicitly acknowledge that she would give him what he wanted. He seemed to want to hear her say it. Wine would help. Besides, she’d get oral out of it… For one thing, this had put sex in the forefront. Naked in her bath, trying to figure all this out, she did feel sexual, desired, in control somehow. In control even though he directed the scenario, he dictated what was going to happen.
He spent the entire week thinking about Friday night. Every once in a while, he would grab her, or she would grab him, reminding each other of what was now an inevitable conclusion.
They made dinner reservations and planned for the grandparents to babysit the k**s for the night.
She asked him whether he’d liked her to be waxed, lips bare or whether he’d like her natural. His choice. He chose bald. “Too bad” she said, “I want to feel like a woman when you clean me up, I want it to be really musky and sloppy”. And then she said something that really turned him on. “This time I’ll be natural, but don’t worry, next time I wax, you’ll get to taste the difference”. This wouldn’t be a one time thing. It would happen again. Holy fuck.
On Friday, she sent him a image of her in her bodysuit, legs spread with her beautiful hairy pussy in front of a mirror. The text said: “I’m ready for you to make a big mess. Are you? ;) xxx”
He nearly lost it at work. “I will fill you up so good”.
“Oh yes you will. And you know what you’re going to do.”
She was going to call him a cumslut, but didn’t. Maybe he won’t like that, she thought. To be honest, she wasn’t sure herself whether she liked to think of her husband as a cumslut.
The day stretched forever. And finally, dinner came. At dinner, they drank wine, talked about anything, sometimes hinting at what was still to come, but it wasn’t what their conversation was mostly about. Little hints, that’s all. “Make sure you keep some room for desert” she teased. They walked home, holding hands. They got home, the k**s were away. They took a warm bath with some more wine. In the warm water, their bodies loosened up. His cock was swollen, his balls completely full, aching since she sent her text. She fondled him with her feet. He couldn’t take it anymore. He hadn’t cum in a week, and what a week it had been. All he wanted to do was to cum deep in her, yet, he also wanted to hold off the moment indefinitely. Perhaps this was as much about anticipation as it was about fulfilling a fantasy.
“Oh honey, I’m all clean, but I’m also so very horny. It would be a shame to get all messy” she said. Wait here just a second. She went to their room and set up the iPad. She was going to film this without him knowing. She told him to come in the bedroom. As he watched her, she put on her bodysuit. “Do you like what I’m wearing honey? Do you know what this means? If you make a mess, and I really want you to, I think we both know how we’re going to clean me up, don’t we”? The reality of it all made him a bit dizzy. Perhaps it was also the wine. She lit some candles and got on the bed.
“I’ve been thinking about how this is going to happen and I can’t quite decide. Should I tie you to the bed and edge you with my mouth, my tits, my hungry pussy and make you come in me and then ride your face? Or should I lie on my back, let you fuck me and watch you clean me up while I hold your head?”
“Do I have a say?” he asked.
“Maybe. I think I’d rather have my legs spread and watch you”.
“Can you suck me off a little first?” He wanted to feel her warm mouth on the head of his cock, rock gently up and down, preparing him for the finale, sucking his cock like a straw made of flesh to get all the cum out.
“Lie on your back”. She stepped above him and squatted above his face. Her holes were inches away from his mouth. He could smell her, almost taste her. She took him in her mouth. “You’re so fucking hard. You must really want this”.
Tonight, he was finally going to release deep in his wife, she wanted him to, and they both knew exactly why.
“Make sure I’m very wet for you, my love. Take my dildo and pound my pussy good. I have a feeling you won’t last long enough to get all my juices out, and I want them to be flowing abundantly”. Was this really happening? Were they talking like this for real? Their sex had never been this explicit, never had they talked so freely about the wet, warm, intoxicating side effects of arousal.
“Fuck me, now. You’ve waited enough. Get your wife all sloppy with cum and clean her up”.
He put her on her back, spread her legs, licked it one last time before she was completely soiled, and penetrated her. He became wild. His mouth was licking her body, his hands were grabbing her thighs, her feet, her breasts, her hair. She grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper. “Shit you’re fucking me good”. Her tits were bouncing underneath her bodysuit. “Honey I’m going to cum”. She was actually going to cum before him. Her nails clawed his back and she tipped over the edge. Her wet cunt spasmed on his cock. He looked down. His cock was full of her frothy white juices. She was already a mess. He wrapped his finger and his thumb around his shaft and sc****d all her cum. She looked at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them up.
“Kiss me” she ordered. As he did, he slid back in her and prepared for his messy finale. “I can taste myself. I wonder how we’re going to taste combined”.
“I’m close, honey”, he warned her.
“Oh God. If I were you, I’d be scared with the load you’re about to shoot in me. If you told me to eat your seven-day load, I’d be nervous. I bet you like the idea of eating a lot, though, don’t you? I want you to unload deep in me. Do it slowly and don’t move as you’re cumming. I want to feel your contractions, feel you unloading in me.”
“Fuck I’m going to cum”
“Shoot it, pump it in me, your pretty little wife, fill me up, make a warm, wet, sloppy mess”.
This dirty talk brought him over the edge. He knew how big the load would be, and he would feel bad pumping it in her mouth. There’d be too much. But thinking of how big his load would be for him to eat, and having his wife know how badly he wanted to eat it all, made him lose it. He stuffed himself deep in her and it began. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and felt him shoot spurt after spurt. Maybe a dozen. A mess. A sloppy mess.
And suddenly all these thoughts he had repeated in his mind felt foreign to him, slightly disgusting even. He had shot so much semen in his wife’s wet pussy. He slid out slowly. He didn’t really want to do this anymore. He would rather grab a towel, lie down and fall asleep. “Holy fuck! I’m a fucking mess. It’s overflowing”. He actually really didn’t want to go through with this. “Let’s keep it a fantasy”, he felt like saying. She grabbed his head. “Clean me up, all of it. Make me cum with your mouth”.
He went down on her and cleaned her. Completely.
“I can’t believe you’re actually doing it. This is happening. Fuck.”
***
They lay in bed side by side. She was still wearing her bodysuit; he had a persistent odor around his lips, and a lingering taste in his mouth. The taste and smell, so peculiar, pungeant and deep, salty, sticky and thick, were at first somewhat unpleasant but as he kept going at it, he became able to look at himself doing what he was doing, witnessing the fantasy. He had managed go beyond the shame and disgust that immediately followed his orgasm and ride once more the thrilling wave of desire and fantasy. Now, laying in bed, the smell and taste made him horny, were a reminder that the fantasy had been realized. In fact, this whole “fetish”, if that’s what you want to call it, was about taste, smell, texture. He had made her cum while cleaning her up, he had tasted his own orgasm mixed with hers, it had covered his mouth completely. She got up to pee, but before she left the room, she glanced at him, smiled lovingly, got completely undressed and threw the lingerie on the bed.
When she walked back in, her nakedness marked a transition. They were now free from the scenario. It had been played out to its completion, its sloppy, naughty completion.
“Thank you for that” he said. He felt a little ashamed, but also grateful. This had been a complete lovemaking experience; he had taken it all, literally.
“How was it” she asked. “Was it like you imagined?”
“Yes and no. The lead up, the anticipation was the most erotic experience I’ve ever had. Having you tell me what I was going to do, what I was longing to do, having you in on it was better than in my wildest fantasy. But the actual act, the actual cleaning was a bit, how can I say, too much at first”.
“Was it too big a mess for you?” she teased. “I was quite a sloppy mess, wasn’t I? And you hadn’t cum in a week”.
His cock stood up.
“Oh look at you. I bet you’d want more! Too bad I drained you completely a few minutes ago”
“Oh honey, I could take a lot! Cum doesn’t scare me, quite the opposite. But immediately after my orgasm, my craving disappears completely. I didn’t want to go through with it, but at the same time I knew it’s something I wanted badly. I had to convince myself to do it for the memory of it. At that point, I wasn’t doing it in the moment, I was projecting myself forward, I had to try to look at myself doing it”.
“Men are strange. You cum and it’s like your semen extinguishes the desire entirely. It’s almost as if the sperm itself contained all your lust and as soon as it leaves your body, so does your sexual energy. For us, women, cumming only stokes the fire”
“Maybe that’s what this fantasy was all about. Taking back all my desire, eating it all to have it stay in me. The whole fantasy is about what happens after my orgasm. I had to overcome my drop in libido by convincing myself that the memory of my mouth cleaning your cumfilled, sloppy wide open cunt would arouse the fuck out of me.”
“Do you want to see it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I filmed it” she said.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes”. She got up and grabbed the iPad. Here. He went through the clip. The angle wasn’t the best – he couldn’t see the mess – but he knew exactly how it was, he remembered the taste, the smell, the texture. Looking at himself grab her legs and pin them to the bed, ejaculating thick ropes of sperm deep in her, seeing her hands grab his head and direct them at her wide open, freshly fucked pussy, and his face disappear in its sloppy wetness, he could recall the sensations, relive them, but this time full of desire.
She grabbed his erect uncut penis. “Would you like it if your cum played a bigger part in our sex life? Would you like to clean me up more often?” She went down on him and pulled back his foreskin. He had cum underneath his head. She took him in her mouth.
“I would”
“We can do that then my love. I promise, I’ll give it to you. Not all the time, I still want some for myself, and I still want to feel full of your cum. But we can definitely share. I can think of many ways for you to clean me up. You’ll be a good husband, won’t you? You’ll clean your little wife of all your fresh cum won’t you?”
“Oh I will. I’ll clean and worship every inch of your body”.
“All this talk has made me hungry for your cum. Do you mind if I try to suck out some more out of you?”
“Please do”.
She went down on him, stopping to enumerate the ways she’d feed him in the future. “How would you like it if I flipped you over and jerked you into your own mouth? And what about if I kissed you with a mouthful of your cum? Would you like that? And if I made you cum on my tits? You’ll get what you want, but tonight, I want what you have left for myself”. She worked him slowly, lovingly, caressing his cock gently so it would giver her what she seemed to desire desperately. Never again would he hesitate to feed her his thick, built up loads. And neither would she hesitate to feed them to him. Things would never be quite the same.
It was only a fantasy, until it became reality. Now, he knows and craves the taste, the smell, the feeling more than anything. And he’s been getting worked up by this new fantasy: how would it be to clean her up from another man’s cum? How would it be to make another man cum in his mouth with her watching? How much cum would he be willing to drink? Where would this end?
7 years ago
