Elle was beautiful, she still is from what I see of her on facebook. I loved her to the ends of the Earth and back, but you know how things go, especially when you play with fire. For a passionate couple, sex is a candle flame that burns from warm to hot. But cuckolding is a blowtorch, searing away the people you used to be and revealing the couple you really are, free of the rules and boundaries of traditional monogamy and sexual compromises. When you add long-term serious chastity, the blowtorch becomes a flame thrower, where I'm the only one getting burned, often from far away. No need to go over why it was unsustainable, I'm preaching to the veritable choir here. But boy oh boy, did we burn, burn, burn.
Elle was gorgeous, petite, with luxurious thick curls of honey hair that came to rest and bounce on her porcelain C cup breasts. Her eyes were robin's egg blue, they lit up and sparkled with delight every time she said something that humiliated me. What I loved most about her was not her Marilyn Monroe beauty, it was her mind, even though I was too young at the time to realize it. When we started dating she was a 22 year old submissive and I was a 33 year old dominant, with a submissive side. To be more honest, I was actually a raging submissive, but the truth of the BDSM scene is that female dommes are few and far between, and they have their pick of wealthy, influential and far more handsome men. Most dommes that you'd meet at BDSM munches and events usually aren't all that attractive, the truly attractive dommes are at home with the perfect submissive man already. But the submissive women that would show up at these events were often stunningly pretty, and many didn't know it. And there were so many of them. I eventually got tired of watching them go home with any nerdish loser with a black T-shirt and scruffy goatee who approached them. Their eagerness to explore their sexuality and their natural submissive tendencies made them easy prey for a lot of predatory men who never had the girls best interest in mind.
So I went dom. I'm creative, improvisational, empathic and a fine dominant indeed, and even though sometimes I'd rather be the sub, it was pretty great and we fell in love, and stayed in those roles. Until one night I went to bed with my laptop open, and when I woke up in the morning, she had spent hours going through everything. Chastity sites. Tumbler interracial cuckold blogs. Everything. And just like that she was in charge. But that's another story.
But before that, when we started dating, my first visit to her apartment to spank her changed the way I though about her. It was her books. There were bookshelves everywhere, filled with books, but not just any books, good books. Great books. Literature, but not the run of the mill authors or titles. History, and not historical romance, but histories of Italian opera, philosophers, language. Humorists. Books on Karl Marx AND Groucho Marx. Great contemporary fiction. Art. And I'm an artist. I fell in love with her then and there, just from her books. Books are the pieces of this world we intentionally choose to put into our thoughts, and they reveal more about a person than a year of dating. God, I loved her, and she was the one that got away. She was too high above me, I couldn't keep her happy forever, but for two years we lived a sordidly beautiful fairy tale.
And that kinky, erudite mind of hers gloried and reveled in talking down to me as her cuckold, and realizing how I loved it, she just took her filters off. She spoke her mind, not trite D/s cliches, and she was a poet of humiliation. I can't recall but a fraction, but I remember times she verbalized in a stream of consciousness way, like a kinky beat poet, whenever circumstances allowed me to lick and taste her creampie. Clean up duties eventually became our main sexual connection, and she'd lie back with eyes closed and talk softly about our relationship in the dirtiest ways as I licked her. I may be paraphrasing in places, but only just. Here are things I remember hearing her say, when her thighs were not squeezing my ears.
"Better hurry and start licking, honey, I really don't think we're ready just yet to start a family. Well, you're not ready...not yet. You'd better start getting into the right mindset, my children will be black, you know it's going to happen. What you tell your family is up to you, but don't expect me to lie about it. But I think I'm almost ready...we're seeing his family again this weekend and his parents really want to be grandparents. I don't know how long I can keep coming up with excuses why I'm not pregnant...or if I want to."
Once after driving home from his house, I knelt and peeled off her sticky panties. "It was a long drive, you might be a little late, tiger, and he came in me pretty deep. Maybe you can still clean me up before I have twins!" She laughed and I turned red.
"Wait, stop right there. I want you to look at it. A little closer. He came all over the outside of my pussy, it's just cum for you tonight, sorry. That's what happens. Look at the mess you've made of us. I want you to have to eat it cold this time, you don't deserve anything more."
"You're lucky I love you...you get to know what great sex tastes like."
"This is sex for you now. But not forever. Just until I take it away from you."
"I'm so glad we figured out where you belong."
One time she was coming out of the bedroom to the living room to give me her creampie and as she strode through the kitchen to me, there was an audible 'plop'. A big wad of his load fell out of her and onto the kitchen tile floor. She laughed, and snapped her fingers, pointing to the puddle, "Here boy" she whistled, "here cuck cuck, lick it up, boy!" She laughed twice as hard as I crawled over and did it, and her boyfriend came out of the bedroom to see.
So...what has YOUR wife or girlfriend said to you about creampie? Has she teased you about raising bi-racial children? I'd like to hear your experiences.
Elle was gorgeous, petite, with luxurious thick curls of honey hair that came to rest and bounce on her porcelain C cup breasts. Her eyes were robin's egg blue, they lit up and sparkled with delight every time she said something that humiliated me. What I loved most about her was not her Marilyn Monroe beauty, it was her mind, even though I was too young at the time to realize it. When we started dating she was a 22 year old submissive and I was a 33 year old dominant, with a submissive side. To be more honest, I was actually a raging submissive, but the truth of the BDSM scene is that female dommes are few and far between, and they have their pick of wealthy, influential and far more handsome men. Most dommes that you'd meet at BDSM munches and events usually aren't all that attractive, the truly attractive dommes are at home with the perfect submissive man already. But the submissive women that would show up at these events were often stunningly pretty, and many didn't know it. And there were so many of them. I eventually got tired of watching them go home with any nerdish loser with a black T-shirt and scruffy goatee who approached them. Their eagerness to explore their sexuality and their natural submissive tendencies made them easy prey for a lot of predatory men who never had the girls best interest in mind.
So I went dom. I'm creative, improvisational, empathic and a fine dominant indeed, and even though sometimes I'd rather be the sub, it was pretty great and we fell in love, and stayed in those roles. Until one night I went to bed with my laptop open, and when I woke up in the morning, she had spent hours going through everything. Chastity sites. Tumbler interracial cuckold blogs. Everything. And just like that she was in charge. But that's another story.
But before that, when we started dating, my first visit to her apartment to spank her changed the way I though about her. It was her books. There were bookshelves everywhere, filled with books, but not just any books, good books. Great books. Literature, but not the run of the mill authors or titles. History, and not historical romance, but histories of Italian opera, philosophers, language. Humorists. Books on Karl Marx AND Groucho Marx. Great contemporary fiction. Art. And I'm an artist. I fell in love with her then and there, just from her books. Books are the pieces of this world we intentionally choose to put into our thoughts, and they reveal more about a person than a year of dating. God, I loved her, and she was the one that got away. She was too high above me, I couldn't keep her happy forever, but for two years we lived a sordidly beautiful fairy tale.
And that kinky, erudite mind of hers gloried and reveled in talking down to me as her cuckold, and realizing how I loved it, she just took her filters off. She spoke her mind, not trite D/s cliches, and she was a poet of humiliation. I can't recall but a fraction, but I remember times she verbalized in a stream of consciousness way, like a kinky beat poet, whenever circumstances allowed me to lick and taste her creampie. Clean up duties eventually became our main sexual connection, and she'd lie back with eyes closed and talk softly about our relationship in the dirtiest ways as I licked her. I may be paraphrasing in places, but only just. Here are things I remember hearing her say, when her thighs were not squeezing my ears.
"Better hurry and start licking, honey, I really don't think we're ready just yet to start a family. Well, you're not ready...not yet. You'd better start getting into the right mindset, my children will be black, you know it's going to happen. What you tell your family is up to you, but don't expect me to lie about it. But I think I'm almost ready...we're seeing his family again this weekend and his parents really want to be grandparents. I don't know how long I can keep coming up with excuses why I'm not pregnant...or if I want to."
Once after driving home from his house, I knelt and peeled off her sticky panties. "It was a long drive, you might be a little late, tiger, and he came in me pretty deep. Maybe you can still clean me up before I have twins!" She laughed and I turned red.
"Wait, stop right there. I want you to look at it. A little closer. He came all over the outside of my pussy, it's just cum for you tonight, sorry. That's what happens. Look at the mess you've made of us. I want you to have to eat it cold this time, you don't deserve anything more."
"You're lucky I love you...you get to know what great sex tastes like."
"This is sex for you now. But not forever. Just until I take it away from you."
"I'm so glad we figured out where you belong."
One time she was coming out of the bedroom to the living room to give me her creampie and as she strode through the kitchen to me, there was an audible 'plop'. A big wad of his load fell out of her and onto the kitchen tile floor. She laughed, and snapped her fingers, pointing to the puddle, "Here boy" she whistled, "here cuck cuck, lick it up, boy!" She laughed twice as hard as I crawled over and did it, and her boyfriend came out of the bedroom to see.
So...what has YOUR wife or girlfriend said to you about creampie? Has she teased you about raising bi-racial children? I'd like to hear your experiences.
