02-07-2019, 02:24 PM
Then, she pulled the stopper and the tub started to drain. She stood and pulled the shower curtain, leaving me still kneeling by the tub. I heard the shower go on as she rinsed herself, rinsing away the grime and the cum. Shower off, she reached for a towel and I handed it to her.
Did she know how I ached, how my dick hurt and my balls? Did she know how much I wanted her? Why was she making me wait?
"Honey, why are you making me wait?"
She ripped back the shower curtain. Her eyes were blazing, her face red, the muscles in her throat corded.
"If you were a real man, you would not let make you wait. You would take me when you wanted me. But, if you were a real man, I would not be a slut just so I can have a child. You made me a slut, you short dicked wimp! Now, get out of my bathroom!"
"Madhu?"
"Get out!"
I left, of course. Why was she so angry at me? She loved it. She said so. She said she loved being Mr. Malik' slut. She could have a child other ways. But she could not have him other ways. Why was she mad at me? I was supportive, helping her. Why?
In a few minutes, the bathroom door opened. She looked sad as she sat on the bed by me.
"I am sorry. It is not your fault you are sterile. Come on. Let me suck your cock."
"No, Madhu."
"Come on, please. Let me suck him and then I will tell you all about my weekend."
My slut wife slipped to her knees beside the bed. She pulled me up, wiggling my pants and shorts off me. She pushed me back on the bed and wrapped her lips around my cock. Back and forth, Her mouth was so warm. Back and forth. Wet, the pressure devine. Back and no. No. Oh, oh. I could not help it. It felt so good, so good to have her hot mouth on my cock. She was sitting back now, licking cum from her lips.
"See, honey. That is why I want a man who can last. Now, let me tell you what happened."
She got up on the bed beside me, legs crossed and started to talk. Her eyes were alive. The whiskey and her bath had rejuvenated her.
"Well, you were there when he picked me up. The limo was plush, Ajay. It had a bar and everything, much nicer than anything we could afford. He handed me a single red rose.
'For a lovely lady,' he said.
'Oh, thank you, Asif,' I replied.
Ajay, he got mad. Real mad. He did not say anything but his eyes told me. He put his hand on my leg, right there, on the knee. His fingers slowly started walking up my leg. It felt like a spider on my leg. You know how I hate spiders. I wanted to brush it off, or shake it off, but I was afraid of him, afraid of what he was going to do to me.
"Why are you angry?" I gasped out at him.
'You may never call me by my first name, slut. Do you understand?'
'Yes, sir, but.'
'But nothing, slut.'
His hand kept moving up my leg. I flinched, jerking my legs shut, trapping his hand. Oh, Ajay, he did not like that. That is when he did this."
She pointed to a dark, purple-blue, ugly bruise on her thigh. I could see where a nail had dug into her flesh, tearing it.
"He dug his nail in and squeezed. I grabbed his hands with mine but his look told me to let his go. I pulled my hands away. He kept the pressure up, then slowly he twisted, just like a college teacher twists a child's ear, he twisted my flesh until I screamed. When he released me, I grabbed my leg, rubbing it.
'Put your hands flat on the seat, palms down, and slide them between the two seat partitions,' he said. 'Never rub where I have punished, slut.'
I did it. I did not want to make him mad again.
'Now, spread your legs for me. That's it. No, slut. Wider. Wider.'
He reached over and removed the clip from my dress. The front fell apart leaving me totally exposed. You saw that dress. It is one piece held together by that clip. Oh, Ajay, it felt so good to be like that. To be totally exposed. Open. Under his control. I loved it, Ajay. I loved your boss dominating me like that.
'Well, slut,' he said, 'I can see I will have to help you open your legs like I want them.'
Ajay, those limos have everything. There was a drawer in the shelf where the whiskey was. He opened it. There were ropes inside. He took two pieces of rope and made slip knots in one end of each of them. He took each of my legs and slipped a rope over foot. He pulled it, tightening the rope around my ankle.
Ajay, I looked down at myself, at my shaven pussy and the ring through my clit hood, at the high heels locked in place, at the rope, the white rope against the dark stockings. It was so decadent! God, I was dripping pussy juices from it!
Oh, Ajay, you are so hard again. You like hearing about this, don't you? Do you want to stop for a quickie?"
"No. Go on. Please."
"Ajay, there are straps in those limos. Straps like in cabs, for people to hold on to. They were above the rear seat. He pulled my right leg up, toward the strap. He slipped the rope tied to my ankle through the strap and pulled. I was bracing myself on my arms and on my other foot. It was bent as such an angle, Ajay, as I strained as my right foot was tied to the strap.
I was starting to sweat as I stared into his face. I knew what he was going to do, Ajay."
Her hand was on my leg, her nails gently teasing me. Migod, I wanted her, wanted to fuck her. Take her my mind screamed, but I sat there.
Did she know how I ached, how my dick hurt and my balls? Did she know how much I wanted her? Why was she making me wait?
"Honey, why are you making me wait?"
She ripped back the shower curtain. Her eyes were blazing, her face red, the muscles in her throat corded.
"If you were a real man, you would not let make you wait. You would take me when you wanted me. But, if you were a real man, I would not be a slut just so I can have a child. You made me a slut, you short dicked wimp! Now, get out of my bathroom!"
"Madhu?"
"Get out!"
I left, of course. Why was she so angry at me? She loved it. She said so. She said she loved being Mr. Malik' slut. She could have a child other ways. But she could not have him other ways. Why was she mad at me? I was supportive, helping her. Why?
In a few minutes, the bathroom door opened. She looked sad as she sat on the bed by me.
"I am sorry. It is not your fault you are sterile. Come on. Let me suck your cock."
"No, Madhu."
"Come on, please. Let me suck him and then I will tell you all about my weekend."
My slut wife slipped to her knees beside the bed. She pulled me up, wiggling my pants and shorts off me. She pushed me back on the bed and wrapped her lips around my cock. Back and forth, Her mouth was so warm. Back and forth. Wet, the pressure devine. Back and no. No. Oh, oh. I could not help it. It felt so good, so good to have her hot mouth on my cock. She was sitting back now, licking cum from her lips.
"See, honey. That is why I want a man who can last. Now, let me tell you what happened."
She got up on the bed beside me, legs crossed and started to talk. Her eyes were alive. The whiskey and her bath had rejuvenated her.
"Well, you were there when he picked me up. The limo was plush, Ajay. It had a bar and everything, much nicer than anything we could afford. He handed me a single red rose.
'For a lovely lady,' he said.
'Oh, thank you, Asif,' I replied.
Ajay, he got mad. Real mad. He did not say anything but his eyes told me. He put his hand on my leg, right there, on the knee. His fingers slowly started walking up my leg. It felt like a spider on my leg. You know how I hate spiders. I wanted to brush it off, or shake it off, but I was afraid of him, afraid of what he was going to do to me.
"Why are you angry?" I gasped out at him.
'You may never call me by my first name, slut. Do you understand?'
'Yes, sir, but.'
'But nothing, slut.'
His hand kept moving up my leg. I flinched, jerking my legs shut, trapping his hand. Oh, Ajay, he did not like that. That is when he did this."
She pointed to a dark, purple-blue, ugly bruise on her thigh. I could see where a nail had dug into her flesh, tearing it.
"He dug his nail in and squeezed. I grabbed his hands with mine but his look told me to let his go. I pulled my hands away. He kept the pressure up, then slowly he twisted, just like a college teacher twists a child's ear, he twisted my flesh until I screamed. When he released me, I grabbed my leg, rubbing it.
'Put your hands flat on the seat, palms down, and slide them between the two seat partitions,' he said. 'Never rub where I have punished, slut.'
I did it. I did not want to make him mad again.
'Now, spread your legs for me. That's it. No, slut. Wider. Wider.'
He reached over and removed the clip from my dress. The front fell apart leaving me totally exposed. You saw that dress. It is one piece held together by that clip. Oh, Ajay, it felt so good to be like that. To be totally exposed. Open. Under his control. I loved it, Ajay. I loved your boss dominating me like that.
'Well, slut,' he said, 'I can see I will have to help you open your legs like I want them.'
Ajay, those limos have everything. There was a drawer in the shelf where the whiskey was. He opened it. There were ropes inside. He took two pieces of rope and made slip knots in one end of each of them. He took each of my legs and slipped a rope over foot. He pulled it, tightening the rope around my ankle.
Ajay, I looked down at myself, at my shaven pussy and the ring through my clit hood, at the high heels locked in place, at the rope, the white rope against the dark stockings. It was so decadent! God, I was dripping pussy juices from it!
Oh, Ajay, you are so hard again. You like hearing about this, don't you? Do you want to stop for a quickie?"
"No. Go on. Please."
"Ajay, there are straps in those limos. Straps like in cabs, for people to hold on to. They were above the rear seat. He pulled my right leg up, toward the strap. He slipped the rope tied to my ankle through the strap and pulled. I was bracing myself on my arms and on my other foot. It was bent as such an angle, Ajay, as I strained as my right foot was tied to the strap.
I was starting to sweat as I stared into his face. I knew what he was going to do, Ajay."
Her hand was on my leg, her nails gently teasing me. Migod, I wanted her, wanted to fuck her. Take her my mind screamed, but I sat there.
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