Second part:http://www.poringa.net/posts/relatos/3723278/Introduciendome-al-cuckoldry---Segunda-parte.htmlI had just put away my phone, and when I saw Edson without his shirt and in boxers, I began to realize how excited I had gotten from the chat and the situation in general, so I decided to provoke him a bit looking for some action that morning.
I pounced on him, feeling almost instantly his morning erection, and started rubbing against him, making him wake up immediately. But when I needed him most, the response I got was negative, as it seemed he was still too tired for that after last night's drinking binge. Of course, I complained based on the fact that his penis seemed ready. His response was discouraging, as it seemed his erection didn't reflect his mood and, according to his words, was just a biological reaction of his body.
So I let him keep sleeping, and at that moment, more than ever before, I hated him for not being sufficiently Neanderthal enough to want me every opportunity. Not only that, but the situation also made me think about how unfeminine it made me feel in our current relationship, since no matter how liberal it was, if I was addicted to anything, it was to the sexual initiative of men, something I was now realizing Edson would care about.
Several days passed and Antonio and I continued talking occasionally. In reality, the center of the conversation was Edson's sex and fantasy. Sometimes, when I got too excited, I'd ask him how he'd do it if he ever accepted my proposal. Then I'd go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and re-read his messages a bit. Meanwhile, Edson kept refusing to have sex, and in one of my conversations with Antonio, that fact slipped out. His suggestion was that I ask for oral sex at least, a piece of advice that seemed sensible and just.
It was this way that night fell, and the whole idea was still on my mind that Edson was going to deny me the wonderful pleasure of penetration, I asked him anyway, simply waiting for him to say no so that I could then ask him to use his mouth. Surprisingly, his response was positive, and almost as if he hadn't eaten in days, Edson got ready in bed, undressing, which I didn't quite understand, since that day nobody was going to touch him.
You should undress, he told me.
Why don't you help me? I said.
You look like a queen today. I think I'm not worthy of something like this, especially after making you wait so long for the other thing.
What other thing? Do you mean your penis? I said, sliding my panties down my legs while lying on my back—I don't understand. Even now it's hard. Why don't you just put it in and be done with it?
I'm telling you, he said. I've been so tired these days that I don't think I could last long before running out of breath. Maybe not even maintain an erection.
The last part of his comment immediately reminded me of my first conversation with Antonio, so I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and used my hands to open my vaginal lips, giving Edson permission to start working.
Although I tried to resist during the first few minutes, eventually I started thinking about Antonio's penis and all the messages he sent saying he would make me if I accepted him. The truth is that Edson made it very easy for me to fantasize about something like this, since he was the one who mentioned his problems with erections. Almost as if he did it on purpose, so I put my imagination into action and started imagining Antonio touching and penetrating me.
My level of excitement went through the roof quickly, and soon I found myself struggling not to whisper his name. However, that temptation disappeared suddenly when Edson stopped moving his tongue.
What's wrong? I asked him, opening my eyes with a still hazy gaze from what strong that had been pressing my hands against my face. — Sorry. My jaw hurts. I think we'll have to leave it until here for today. — Okey. I'm going to the bathroom —I said after a few seconds of silence, getting up and making sure to take my cell phone with me. — In as soon as I closed the bathroom door behind me, I sat down on the toilet and sent Antonio a message. Are you there? I really want to feel you. Seriously? And why is that? Not that I don't want to, quite the opposite. But any particular reason? It doesn't matter. Could you tell me what you'd like to do to me? What if we make it more fun this time? —he said, attaching a photo to his last message. It was a photo of him, or part of him. His short, similar to the one he wore on the day of the party, left his erection visible. In addition to that, with his hand, he took care of outlining the contour and pulling it up a bit, making it stand out even more. I had never had a clearer image of how his penis looked like. With my vagina still wet and my nipples erect, I put the tip of my index finger on my clitoris, holding the phone with the other hand and occasionally looking at the ceiling, trying to visualize Antonio penetrating me. If you want to know what it looks like without the short, send me a photo too. Take a picture of your underwear. Put them on the floor and take a picture. You can't wear them. But make sure it shows how wet you are, if not, I'll know you didn't just take them off. I can't, I left them in the room —I said while continuing to rub my clitoris. What's in the room? Isn't Edson at home? I came to the bathroom in a bathrobe. Yes, he is. Tell him to bring them. Mmm... okay. I closed my conversation with Antonio to open Edson's and asked him to bring me my underwear. He didn't ask any questions, and a few seconds later, he was knocking on the door. I opened it slightly and received them from his hands. He already brought them, but not They're wet
I'm not going to send you the picture like that.
Okay, wait, I replied without believing he was trying to make a big deal out of the picture of a penis when, by my wide and I say wide experience on the internet, all I needed to get one was to tap my fingers.
But this wasn't just any picture, it was Antonio's, the man I had been fantasizing about for the last few days. Now, with the heat at this level, I needed more than ever a clear image to use during my fantasies.
I put my phone on the sink for a second, right where the soap is, took off my underwear and put it back on. It was enough that I pressed it against me a few times for a damp spot to form in it. I quickly took it off again, still yearning for the damn picture, put it on the floor like Antonio had asked me to, and took it, not realizing at the time that part of my feet were visible. I sent it, and sat back down, rubbing my clitoris while waiting for my phone to finally vibrate again.
Then it arrived. At first, I thought it wasn't a real picture, but then I saw the furniture in the background. I knew Antonio's room because Edson had taken me there several times before. Except for the accessories that didn't steal the show in the picture, his thick and aesthetically uniform penis was held high by its impressive owner, as if he were holding his sword ready to face an entire platoon alone.
Although I had seen many penises at that moment, both digitally and in person, I couldn't help but appreciate how well-formed and cared-for it looked. The cut of his pelvis was simply perfect, not too much like a dirty impression, nor too little like losing masculinity. Then there was his own hand, so big and full of veins as I remembered it, holding almost with difficulty, as if he had to apply most of his strength in subduing it, his member, which still extended about a centimeter more after the end of enormous hand. It was at the moment when I realized that, on the tip, a small almost completely transparent drop wanted to appear, that my orgasm arrived. Out loud, but not so loudly as to be heard beyond the hallway - or at least that's what I wanted to think- I gasped Antonio's name several times as my unstable orgasm expanded through my body via multiple pulsations beginning in the interior of my vagina and rapidly traveling towards my stomach and muscles. I tried to tell Antonio that I was coming for him, but the pleasure was so intense that I barely could ensure not dropping the cell phone.
I pounced on him, feeling almost instantly his morning erection, and started rubbing against him, making him wake up immediately. But when I needed him most, the response I got was negative, as it seemed he was still too tired for that after last night's drinking binge. Of course, I complained based on the fact that his penis seemed ready. His response was discouraging, as it seemed his erection didn't reflect his mood and, according to his words, was just a biological reaction of his body.
So I let him keep sleeping, and at that moment, more than ever before, I hated him for not being sufficiently Neanderthal enough to want me every opportunity. Not only that, but the situation also made me think about how unfeminine it made me feel in our current relationship, since no matter how liberal it was, if I was addicted to anything, it was to the sexual initiative of men, something I was now realizing Edson would care about.
Several days passed and Antonio and I continued talking occasionally. In reality, the center of the conversation was Edson's sex and fantasy. Sometimes, when I got too excited, I'd ask him how he'd do it if he ever accepted my proposal. Then I'd go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and re-read his messages a bit. Meanwhile, Edson kept refusing to have sex, and in one of my conversations with Antonio, that fact slipped out. His suggestion was that I ask for oral sex at least, a piece of advice that seemed sensible and just.
It was this way that night fell, and the whole idea was still on my mind that Edson was going to deny me the wonderful pleasure of penetration, I asked him anyway, simply waiting for him to say no so that I could then ask him to use his mouth. Surprisingly, his response was positive, and almost as if he hadn't eaten in days, Edson got ready in bed, undressing, which I didn't quite understand, since that day nobody was going to touch him.
You should undress, he told me.
Why don't you help me? I said.
You look like a queen today. I think I'm not worthy of something like this, especially after making you wait so long for the other thing.
What other thing? Do you mean your penis? I said, sliding my panties down my legs while lying on my back—I don't understand. Even now it's hard. Why don't you just put it in and be done with it?
I'm telling you, he said. I've been so tired these days that I don't think I could last long before running out of breath. Maybe not even maintain an erection.
The last part of his comment immediately reminded me of my first conversation with Antonio, so I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and used my hands to open my vaginal lips, giving Edson permission to start working.
Although I tried to resist during the first few minutes, eventually I started thinking about Antonio's penis and all the messages he sent saying he would make me if I accepted him. The truth is that Edson made it very easy for me to fantasize about something like this, since he was the one who mentioned his problems with erections. Almost as if he did it on purpose, so I put my imagination into action and started imagining Antonio touching and penetrating me.
My level of excitement went through the roof quickly, and soon I found myself struggling not to whisper his name. However, that temptation disappeared suddenly when Edson stopped moving his tongue.
What's wrong? I asked him, opening my eyes with a still hazy gaze from what strong that had been pressing my hands against my face. — Sorry. My jaw hurts. I think we'll have to leave it until here for today. — Okey. I'm going to the bathroom —I said after a few seconds of silence, getting up and making sure to take my cell phone with me. — In as soon as I closed the bathroom door behind me, I sat down on the toilet and sent Antonio a message. Are you there? I really want to feel you. Seriously? And why is that? Not that I don't want to, quite the opposite. But any particular reason? It doesn't matter. Could you tell me what you'd like to do to me? What if we make it more fun this time? —he said, attaching a photo to his last message. It was a photo of him, or part of him. His short, similar to the one he wore on the day of the party, left his erection visible. In addition to that, with his hand, he took care of outlining the contour and pulling it up a bit, making it stand out even more. I had never had a clearer image of how his penis looked like. With my vagina still wet and my nipples erect, I put the tip of my index finger on my clitoris, holding the phone with the other hand and occasionally looking at the ceiling, trying to visualize Antonio penetrating me. If you want to know what it looks like without the short, send me a photo too. Take a picture of your underwear. Put them on the floor and take a picture. You can't wear them. But make sure it shows how wet you are, if not, I'll know you didn't just take them off. I can't, I left them in the room —I said while continuing to rub my clitoris. What's in the room? Isn't Edson at home? I came to the bathroom in a bathrobe. Yes, he is. Tell him to bring them. Mmm... okay. I closed my conversation with Antonio to open Edson's and asked him to bring me my underwear. He didn't ask any questions, and a few seconds later, he was knocking on the door. I opened it slightly and received them from his hands. He already brought them, but not They're wet
I'm not going to send you the picture like that.
Okay, wait, I replied without believing he was trying to make a big deal out of the picture of a penis when, by my wide and I say wide experience on the internet, all I needed to get one was to tap my fingers.
But this wasn't just any picture, it was Antonio's, the man I had been fantasizing about for the last few days. Now, with the heat at this level, I needed more than ever a clear image to use during my fantasies.
I put my phone on the sink for a second, right where the soap is, took off my underwear and put it back on. It was enough that I pressed it against me a few times for a damp spot to form in it. I quickly took it off again, still yearning for the damn picture, put it on the floor like Antonio had asked me to, and took it, not realizing at the time that part of my feet were visible. I sent it, and sat back down, rubbing my clitoris while waiting for my phone to finally vibrate again.
Then it arrived. At first, I thought it wasn't a real picture, but then I saw the furniture in the background. I knew Antonio's room because Edson had taken me there several times before. Except for the accessories that didn't steal the show in the picture, his thick and aesthetically uniform penis was held high by its impressive owner, as if he were holding his sword ready to face an entire platoon alone.
Although I had seen many penises at that moment, both digitally and in person, I couldn't help but appreciate how well-formed and cared-for it looked. The cut of his pelvis was simply perfect, not too much like a dirty impression, nor too little like losing masculinity. Then there was his own hand, so big and full of veins as I remembered it, holding almost with difficulty, as if he had to apply most of his strength in subduing it, his member, which still extended about a centimeter more after the end of enormous hand. It was at the moment when I realized that, on the tip, a small almost completely transparent drop wanted to appear, that my orgasm arrived. Out loud, but not so loudly as to be heard beyond the hallway - or at least that's what I wanted to think- I gasped Antonio's name several times as my unstable orgasm expanded through my body via multiple pulsations beginning in the interior of my vagina and rapidly traveling towards my stomach and muscles. I tried to tell Antonio that I was coming for him, but the pleasure was so intense that I barely could ensure not dropping the cell phone.
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