It took some time for us to work out a meetup. As much as I wanted to fuck Melanie and taste her milk again, there were the realities of life I had to deal with.
The worse part was that she would constantly send me pictures of her tits and pussy just to distract me. She couldn’t make me lust after her anymore; I was at the top of the charts already for that.
The worse pictures were the before and after she would send me of her tits. Before milking and after milking. I hated it because I could see the difference and I was afraid to ask how the milk had been removed. Her husband was the most likely answer. Another lover was a possibility as well; I wouldn’t put that behind her. I hoped she wasn’t using a pump. That seemed a tragedy for such a beautiful woman whose tits were full of milk.
Melanie was the first person to send me an unsolicited dick pic. I wasn’t sure if I was offended or not.
What do you think? She asked me.
Whose is it? I was fairly certain it wasn’t mine. I was familiar with my own anatomy and this was definitely another man’s.
My husband’s. I love sucking on it. Does that excite or upset you?
I had to answer her truthfully. Both.
You’ll do well when we get you into our bed.
I shivered in fear. Or maybe anticipation. I couldn’t tell the difference any longer.
The back and forth between us was excruciating. It was half exquisite torture and half fruitless anticipation. I was half convinced that what she was telling me was pure bullshit and she was just keeping me on edge just to tease me. And maybe because it got her off; I couldn’t say for sure.
The weirdest part was when her husband texted me.
Dude. This is Adrian. Melanie’s husband. Can’t wait to meet you next weekend. She’s told me all about you. Is that too weird?
I stared at his message for a long time trying to process it. Was it Melanie taking the next step in her teasing? Had she given her husband my phone number just to text me? Was he trying to say he was ready to see me with his wife or was he just winding me up? Maybe the two of them got off on leading guys on and then fucking like horny rabbits for days.
I had no idea what I was doing.
I was staring at the message, phone in hand, when another text alert buzzed. It was from Melanie.
Expect a text from my husband soon. He wants to talk to you first before he watches you fuck me.
If she was playing a long-term con, she had at least done her homework. Their messages were coming from different phone numbers.
I texted Adrian back. I’ve never done this before. Are you sure this is what you want?
His reply was almost immediate. Dude, we’ve done this a lot before. She’s really hung up on you and needs to fuck you at least one more time before she can get you out of her system.
It was too good to be true. It had to be too good to be true. Even though the illusion was perfect I was certain that I was being played for a fool.
I made my plans to drive the two hours to their place. I also made plans on getting a hotel room to cry away my sorrows when it all blew up in my face.
Adrian was a few years older than Melanie, with black hair that was going to silver at the temples. Distinguished was the term. His handshake was firm without being overly aggressive or bone-crushing. Apparently he had no need to play petty games.
I was nervous and watched my every word and gesture and even tried to police my thoughts. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen even though Melanie had told me exactly what was going to happen. I was so insecure.
Melanie made an honest-to-goodness homemade meal. Nothing too heavy, she said, because we didn’t want to be weighed down and sleepy for the evening’s entertainment. It was almost like going over to a friend’s house for a dinner party.
A very awkward and uncomfortable dinner party.
After Melanie cleared away the dinner dishes she said, “This is the time where my mother would offer after dinner drinks.”
I glanced at my glass of wine, only half finished. The last thing I needed was to have a fuzzy head for what was to come in case I needed to make a quick scramble out of their house.
“None for me, I’m fine,” I said with a nervous laugh.
Both Melanie and Adrian laughed along with me, though the argument could be made that they were laughing at me.
Melanie’s dress was one of those that tied at the top behind her neck. She smoothly flicked her hair aside and undid the knot. I couldn’t help but stare as she lowered her top and showed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. It must have been one of those dresses that had a built-in bra. I stared at her tits remembering every little contour of them.
Adrian nudged me. “Still good, huh?” he asked me.
“Y-y-yeah,” I stammered.
“Well, go on,” he prompted me. “I hadn’t sucked on them since this morning.”
“They’ve full,” Melanie assured me, picking her large breasts up a bit, felt the weight, and pressed them together, displaying an impressive bit of cleavage.
I was glad I was sitting down at the table because my pants were straining to contain my erection.
“Here?” I managed to croak out.
“At the dinner table?” she asked me archly with a sly glance at her husband. “If you just want an after-dinner drink, sure. Or we could go to the bedroom and see what happens there.”
We went to the bedroom. Melanie led the way. I held her hand. Adrian followed behind us.
Melanie lured me onto her bed and quickly pushed my head down to her tits. I was helpless to resist. Being that close I remembered the scent of her body and the scent of her milk. I only managed one nervous glance at Adrian before I popped one of her nipples into my mouth and set to nursing.
After just the second suck she flooded my mouth with her sweet milk.
I moaned in the back of my throat, grasped her breast with both hands, and sucked again.
In the background I could hear Adrian chuckle. “Like a man starving,” he commented.
“Can you blame him?” Melanie replied as she stroked the side of my head and ran her fingers through my hair.
“Not at all.”
I settled in and nursed in all earnest. She was full and her milk flowed easily and steadily. After I had taken a few minutes to feast, I let go of her breast with one hand and cupped the other, holding it in reserve. She must have been on the edge of desire because her nipple steadily dripped milk while I held it.
She moved around a bit which I found annoying until I opened up my eyes to see Adrian was undressing his wife, working around me so I wouldn’t have to stop nursing. In almost no time she was naked.
I took a risk and slid my hand down her body. When my fingers reached to top edge of her sparse pubic hair, I paused and she put her hand on top of my and pushed it down between her legs.
I wasn’t disappointed. Her pussy was as warm and wet as I remembered. It was divine. She happily opened her legs to let me finger her.
“Keep that up,” she panted, “and you’ll have to fuck me.”
“Keep it up,” Adrian encouraged me. “I want to see you fuck her.”
Trying to keep the thought that he was Melanie’s husband from my mind, I started to undress myself.
“I can help you with that, dude,” he said. I was torn. Women had undressed me before, but never a man. I didn’t want to stop nursing from Melanie because I didn’t know when it would happen again, if ever.
As it turned out Adrian was both helpful and respectful. I could feel the couple exchange an approving glance when my underwear came off and my raging hard-on came into view.
“Hon,” she whispered to me. “I need to have your cock in me. Can you feed and fuck me at the same time?”
I broke the latch I had on her tit. “Uh-huh. Yeah.”
We moved into position, me on my back and her straddling my hips. She was an expert in cowgirl I knew. More an expert that I ever would have guessed. As she lowered her pussy onto me, we both
sighed in memory of what we had before and how good it felt to be rejoined. With a pillow under my head it was easy for her to hang her tits in my face. Feasting on her milk was the best part of sex with Melanie. I could have sex with lots of women, but Melanie was the only one who had ever fucked me while she was lactating.
I only had one mouth and her free breast would drip steadily on me. I didn’t mind. It was part of the glory.
“Do you mind if Adrian joins us?” she asked.
I shook my head no. We had already agreed to this. I figured he would want to nurse at her breast next to me or maybe get his dick sucked by her, asserting some dominance over me. I was willing to submit to that.
I was wrong.
“You ready for this, baby?” Adrian asked her. He was kneeling behind her and was naked. When had he had the time to get undressed.
“I’ve been waiting for it for weeks.”
At first I thought her was going to fuck her in the ass. Not my kink, but it was their show.
I was wrong.
I felt his dick against mine. I figured that was normal.
“Pull out, just keep the head inside me,” Melanie said.
I did exactly as she asked, figuring they were the experts in anal sex. I never would have guessed that Melanie was into dual penetration, but you never know about someone just by looking at them.
I was only half right. Melanie was into dual penetration.
“Hold steady,” she told me as Adrian got into position. I still felt his cock against mine and then they moved together, her lowering onto my cock while he pushed up into her.
Pushed up into her pussy.
She had his cock and mine inside her pussy at the same time.
I was in shock.
I loved it.
“So…fucking…full,” she moaned as Adrian moved slowly in and out of her. He must have lubed up his cock because it was slippery and there was little resistance.
I did the only thing I could do just then. I continued to suck on her tits.
“Cumming,” Melanie moaned loudly. “Cumming!”
That was the last time I ever so Melanie or her husband. It wasn’t so much a romance missed but a happily passed opportunity to engage in some really kinky sex that wasn’t for me.
It was okay.
I eventually found a woman with tits to rival Melanie.
But that’s another story.
End
Steel Restraint
Basil has it tough. An ex-wife who left him for a woman and a kink that no woman in the world would want to indulge him in. Basil gets lucky. Very lucky. He meets Dorothy who is willing to play along with his game of chastity, but neither realize how far they are willing to push his punishment and humiliation for their own lust.
Chapter One
“No. Absolutely not.”
“C’mon, Marci. You used to do it all the time for me.”
“Yes. I used to. When I was married to you. I don’t do that anymore.”
Basil sighed with frustration. They had stayed on good terms, but he knew he was asking a lot of his ex. “Thanks anyway. I thought I’d ask.” He didn’t disconnect the call immediately. Maybe he was hoping for a reprieve. Maybe he was waiting for her to end the call.
“Hold on,” Marci said. “What exactly do I have to do?” She still felt a little guilt about their breakup. Technically she had been the one to cheat during their marriage. It wasn’t that simple, of course, it never is. But that was that.
“Just hold my key.”
“Yeah, I know. And I need you to spell out exactly what that entails because I’m not touching or looking at your junk.”
In the pit of his stomach, Basil felt a tiny bit flame start to kindle. “I just need you to hold my key for twenty four hours. Probably less. I can even drop it off for you. I’ll only have to see you when I pick it up.”
“Uh-huh.” Marci’s tone was doubtful. “Why? Why so short a period and why me and why are you doing this now?”
Basil considered his options and decided to go with the truth. “Because I trust you. Because I only need twenty-four hours.”
“Why?” she repeated, not missing that Basil had left out the critical part of the answer.
He sighed and confessed all. “Because I have a date and I don’t want to be tempted to do something stupid.”
“Like fuck her on the first date?”
When she said the words they both immediately regretted it. Basil and Marci had fallen into bed on their first date. The sex was great. The relationship had started out on a high note and had slowly disintegrated from there, a slow disintegration that took fifteen years.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Think of it this way, if this works out well, you might never have to do this again.”
She sighed. “Fine. You can drop off the key anytime at my place. As long as I don’t have to see your cock or that contraption.”
That contraption took Basil more than the usual time to lock onto his cock, partly because it had been some time since he had last put on his chastity cage and partly because he was so excited by his upcoming date that he kept getting hard which made it impossible to put on since chastity cages were designed to go onto flaccid cocks, not hard ones.
He tried ice and thinking about baseball. He considered beating off just to be done with it, but that wasn’t how he wanted to condition himself. In the end, it had to be a cold shower and judicious application of lubricant to get himself soft enough and slippery enough to get inside his cage.
It had been too long since he had worn it. While Basil knew it was largely his perception, he was certain that he had grown bigger in the time he had been out of his cage. There was a certain eager anticipation and high-intensity worry in the community that wearing a chastity cage for too long could cause permanent shrinkage of man meat; some men desired this and some feared it all the while knowing—at least among them who were willing to think clearly and logically—that such a thing was impossible. Oh surely, a cock grew and shrank with the sexual thought and general lust and the temperature, but wearing a steel cage around one’s manhood couldn’t do that.
At least that was the logical thought process.
Once his cage was on and Basil had firmly clicked the small padlock shut, he exhaled with some relief. He had shaved all his pubic hair off first, which was a process not because he was particularly hirsute, but because getting all the little hairs around his sack and the base of his cock wasn’t an easy task. Still, he liked the look and feel of being hairless, and it made wearing the cage easier because he wouldn’t get an unexpected hair pull at the wrong moment.
He was also certain it made his cock look bigger. Not that he was into that.
After admiring his caged self in the mirror for a minute, he wrapped a rubber band around the padlock to prevent any tell-tale clicking—thank you, Mr. Poe—and proceeded to get dressed. It was supposed to be a date. He dressed nicely, not formally, and once he was ready, he headed out to his ex-wife’s place to drop off the key.
She wasn’t home, of course, because she didn’t want to see him, but he put his key into an envelope and dropped it into the mail slot of her door. The thrill of his predicament gave him a burst of blood to his cock and a pinch of pain. He loved it.
Dorothy was a very nice woman whom he had met the way all modern relationships start: on a dating app. Unfortunately the one he had met her on was of the variety that was tamer than most. The ones that were openly kink friendly had too many men and not enough women. Basil didn’t blame women from avoiding them.
In person Dorothy was every bit as charming as she was on the messaging app. “Call me anything but Dot,” she told him as they sat down for drinks. They had agreed to a drink first, then maybe dinner. They left the end of the evening open and undiscussed which Basil was fine with because he had no intention of fucking her on the first date.
“Most of my friends call me Baz,” he said. “Do you prefer Dorothy?”
She
rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Her thick brown hair was caught back in a casual ponytail, but she carefully maintained her bangs. “No. My parents cursed me with a three-syllable name. Thee or Thena.”
Basil was momentarily puzzled. “Oh. Doro-thee.”
“Yeah.”
“Thee becomes Thena?”
“Yeah, it’s supposed to be short for Athena.” She winced and took a sip of her drink. “I went through an obsessive phase in high school. Greek gods and goddesses.”
“At least you chose the goddess of wisdom.”
She raised his glass to him. “There is that.”
“And war,” he added, also drinking.
“True,” she smiled. “I don’t get parents these days naming their daughters Aphrodite. I mean, who could possibly live up to her responsibilities: sex, beauty, and fertility.”
“It is a little much,” he agreed.
“But maybe not for me.”
The date went wonderfully. Dorothy—Thee—allowed Basil to walk her home since she didn’t live far from the place where they had met. The walk was good for him because he had drank and eaten too much and needed to work some of it off. He wasn’t even thinking about the cage around his cock which was a good sign because he knew that would get him into trouble. Of course when he realized he wasn’t thinking about it, he started thinking about it.
It was a vicious cycle.
Without even realizing it, Basil had walked Dorothy up to the third floor of her building and she paused at her door. She wet her lips and he noticed that most of her lipstick was gone; too much drinking and eating and talking.
“Want to come inside?” she asked, hinting at nothing but implying everything.
The question was enough for Basil to get hard, but then he couldn’t get hard because no matter how desperate he became, human flesh was no match for surgical steel. He smiled at her sadly, hoping he was a better actor than he knew he was.
“I’d better not,” he said with as much regret as possible.
The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6 Page 106
