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Melanie was one of those high-powered, no-stopping-her executives that no guy ever turned down. She always came to the office with her long, tanned legs wrapped in the shortest of mini skirts. All the guys in the office would stop dead whenever she bent over to pick up a piece of paper she’d “accidentally” drop while walking between the cubicles. She’d keep her pins perfectly balanced on high heels as she’d bend over, push out her cute, tight ass, pick up the paper then flick her long blonde hair as she straightened up. Just looking at her made my mouth water and my cock get so hard it ached like it was gonna burst. I’d often leave the floor for a quick wank in the toilets after watching one of her shows. I swear, half the guys in the office only came to work to watch the show. The bitchin’ she’d get from the other girls in the office only made her look so much hotter; that and the fact that she was our boss just made her sizzle.

Every Friday night we would all head out to the clubs and get pissed. It was during one of those nights that she asked me why I’d leave my cubicle straight after watching her bend over. She already knew the answer; that was evident by the way she grabbed my balls and winked as she said it.

I fucked her that night. It was everything I’d imagined it’d be and more. It wasn’t until the morning after that I remembered my wife. Melanie laughed as I rushed to get home to Isabella; and, boy, was Isabella furious when I got home. She didn’t talk to me for a week, which was a welcome change from her usual nagging.

Wanna bang my arse, big boy? Come slap it!

After a couple of weeks of banging Melanie in her office, she came up with the idea to promote me to a position that required a lot of “business trips” and I just loved our sneaky trips to backstreet hotels where we would fuck the whole time.

I’d been filling Melanie with my cock for two years when I finally came clean to Isabella. Melanie had nagged me to leave my wife since those first few weeks we were together. She was obsessed. I told her “Yeah, sure, as soon as the kids have finished college”. I meant it every time I said it. I hated my wife for keeping me trapped in a marriage without so much as a blow-job since our twins were born. Yeah, I promised Melanie I’d leave my wife and I meant it. How was I to know the kids would leave home after college and Isabella would turn into a fucking machine without an off switch.

Come closer...

While I’d been busy screwing my boss, waiting for the day I could tell Isabella to go fuck herself, Isabella had been dreaming about the fucking we would do when we’d got our home to ourselves. She jumped me the same night the twins left home. I didn’t know what had hit me, I thought she was drugged up. All those years of thinking she was a dried up cow with a cobwebbed pussy vanished in an instant. She had dressed like a devilish tart and wanted me to drill her cunt ’till it was over-flowing with my spunk. I had to choose: my wife or my boss.

What would you do with me if you had me?

We were in Melanie’s office when I last fucked her brains out. She looked damn tasty in that short skirt. Her buttocks barely hidden by it. Her glasses fell to the floor when I shoved her on her desk, ripped her knickers off and pounded her pussy like I was drilling for oil. I’ll never forget the sex smell that filled the room. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. That was the day I told her I couldn’t leave Isabella.

“We can still be fuck buddies.” I said. That slap she gave me made my head swim among the clouds. You should have heard the howls from the guys on the floor as she chased me out of her office. That day I was a star and nobody was in any doubt that I’d been screwing Melanie.

The next day she threatened to tell Isabella about our affair. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to put my hands around her neck and squeeze it like it were a tube of play dough. I wanted to watch her eyes pop out of her head, and savior it. Had I been able to get away with it, had she not kneed me in my balls when I put my hands around her neck, I would have done it.

While I groveled on the floor clutching my balls, she told me she’d kept all the messages I’d left on her answer-phone, all the Valentine’s and Birthday cards I’d sent her, all the photos of us together and, worse still, she had the home movies of us screwing. She grabbed my shirt, pulled me toward her and whispered “If anything happens to me my lawyer will hand deliver them to your wife.” God, she looked damn sexy crouched over me like that; ball ache or not, I should have fucked her. I didn’t dare ask her for copies of our movies.

That night I confessed to my wife. I expected her to look shocked. She didn’t. She didn’t even gasp or cry. She looked at me through her steely blue eyes and very calmly said “I know.” Then she stood up, walked over to the drinks cabinet, fixed me a large Scotch , forced me to drink it then poured me another one before she said: “I’ve known for a long time. For nearly two years I have cried every time you left for work.” I’d never seen her look so masterful as when she said those words. I told her I would do anything to make it up to her, anything at all. She smiled as she took my hand and took me upstairs to the bedroom.

Later that night, after she’d finished sucking my balls, she opened her bedside cabinet and pulled out a box. “Do you remember what you said earlier? That you would “do anything” for me.” She smirked as she said it. She opened the box and took a bent metal tube with a handcuff attached to it. I couldn’t hide my nerves. She smiled as she pulled back the bed covers, slipped my flaccid dick into the tube and snapped the cuff around my balls. “From now on, your dick is mine and I say when you get to use it.” She fixed her eyes into mine and said: “You and your balls belong to me. They are my toys. No fucker else’s. Got it?” She put the key to the lock onto a necklace which she put around her neck before she laid down to sleep.

Wouldn't this be fun?

A fucking chastity belt, a male chastity belt, I thought. She had my balls in a trap and must have planned it for some time. You should have seen Melanie’s anger the following day when she pinned me against her office door and copped a feel of my cock. She must have spent half an hour trying to pick the lock. When she gave up she screamed “If I can’t have it, she can’t. I’m sending you to Europe.” Oh, she was pissed. I had to laugh to myself when she said it. It felt kinda sexy, though: I had something she wanted but it belonged to someone else.

Later that week I found myself sitting in a hotel room in Amsterdam, watching hardcore porn. Damn, that cock cage pissed me off – I couldn’t even get a hard on because it stopped the blood from flowing into my cock. I got more and more frustrated every time I saw a fuckable woman getting her pussy licked or her tight arse banged by a rock hard cock. My balls ached, the base of my cock was on fire but I couldn’t fill it up. If I could, I could have shown these European bitches my American whopper. I couldn’t even rub my bell end properly to have an orgasm.

I don’t know what caught hold of me but it was then, as I looked at my pants, that I began to wonder, there must be a way to get this thing off. It’s only a chastity belt for christ’s sake. There must be some way to get the fucking thing off.

I gulped my brandy, dropped my pants and began grabbing at the thing. “Aaaaggh!” I groaned as I struggled to remove it. “I’ll oil it!” I shouted as I ran to the dining table to grab the vase of salad oil. I poured the lot over my cock and fought with the thing to get it off. I got more and more frustrated the more I pulled, tugged and grappled at the thing. “Fuck!” I shouted, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I came to one conclusion: I would have to cut my balls off!

For $44, you can buy me

Defeated, I grabbed the brandy bottle, thought fuck it, and guzzled it. No sooner had I got it to my mouth there was a knock at the door. Can’t even have drink to myself, bloody hotel staff. “Just a minute” I shouted as I hurriedly put on my pants, “Who is it?” There was no reply. I moved the sheepskin rug over the oil that had dripped onto the floor, “I’m coming.” How ironic that last call was, I laughed to myself. I thought it might have been Melanie; she said she would visit me while I was here.

I answered the door. Stood in the hallway was a tall blonde haired woman wearing a long black cloak with her back turned to me. I took in her full profile. The belt wrapped around her waist made her shapely ass look damn tasty; and those tanned legs and black high heel shoes made my cock tingle so bad. I felt the aggression well up as I thought of all the things I wanted to do to her. Had I had just a little more to drink, cock cage or not, I would have grabbed her waist and finger-fucked her there and then.

The slim figure shook her hair as she turned to face me.

Fucking hell! I thought; it was Isabella.

“Surprised?” She said and gave me a sultry smile with pouted red lips. She pushed passed me as she walked into the room. “Have you been trying to play with yourself?” She teased as she spied the salad oil by the full-length mirror. I closed the door and watched her, fascinated, as she prowled the room. It was like something out of a spy movie. She looked out of the window that overlooked Amsterdam.

“Strip.” She demanded. I rushed to remove my clothes. She stared at me, mockingly, licked her lips and moved her eyes up and down to ogle my naked body. She laughed when her eyes moved over her “toy box”.

“Sit.” She commanded.

I scurried to the leather chair facing the mirror and sat feeling open and utterly defenceless. Isabella moved between me and the mirror and stood with her legs shoulder width apart. Slowly, seductively, she removed her cloak to reveal she had walked through Amsterdam wearing only a red bra and thong. She dropped her cloak, put her index finger in her mouth and sucked it before she traced it from her mouth, down between her tits all the way to her pussy. She danced as she put her hand under her thong and masturbated herself. I heard her pussy juice squelch as she did it. She traced her finger back up her body to her mouth where she sucked it again with her beautiful, pouting lips. My body tensed with the desire to jump up and fuck her. My eyes flicked from her to the mirror. I watched her wiggle her rear as her body quivered in pleasure as she played with her pussy. I squeezed the cock cage as hard as I could. The frustration in my eyes delighted her. She reached for the key attached to the chain around her neck… Her expression said it all. Oh the silly fucking cow’s not wearing her necklace.

How tasty do I look in this? Click me to buy it.

I jumped out of my chair and lunged at her. “Where is it?” The anger in my voice excited her. I shook her violently. She laughed, grabbed my cock cage and pulled it. I yelped. “Get on your knees and suck my pussy or I’ll yank them off.” She tugged it again. I dropped and obeyed.

She grabbed my hair and pulled my head hard between her legs as she squealed in ecstasy. Her body shook as she neared orgasm. She pushed me away just before she climaxed, reached into her mesh bra and took out the key to her toy box. I groveled at her legs pleading her to let me loose. Without a word, she lead me to the king sized bed, pushed me onto my back, unlocked her toy and sunk my cock deep into her throat. I came in an instant. She swallowed my cum, looked up, licked her lips, sexily slithered up my body and rubbed my head between her tits. I was in a sex trance. The blood rushed from my body back to my dick. I felt delirious as my dick swelled with blood again. Slowly, she lowered herself onto my cock. I felt my head push into her dripping wet pussy followed by my shank being fully surrounded by her as she slid up and down my pole faster and faster ’till she screamed in orgasmic pleasure. We fucked over and over ’till she couldn’t fuck any more and just then there was another knock at the door….

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The sight of slave Cole sitting with his legs and torso tied to the computer chair where I sat this morning made me horny

I work as a secretary in one of those places where you just do your job and go home. It’s not one of those big companies with lots of people, just a small-town family run business with only a few people in the office. Among my many jobs, I have to check the business emails and send the important ones to my boss. It is an easy job, I am loving it.

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Sometimes I feel like I’m leading a double life – there I am, looking all somber at my desk job in the daytime and when the nights come in I put on my second identity. My BDSM life. People in the know call me Lady T.

It was a particularly boring day at the office when I decided to go through some of my more colorful personal emails. I have a desk and a computer to myself in a discreet corner of the office so nobody was around to disturb me. I logged in to my Lady T id and checked my emails. Among the dozens of emails I had got was one from Connor. It was a particularly short one – “Am still punished, Lady T. Waiting for the evening when you will come untie me. – Your slave, Connor.”

I enjoyed that one. The sight of slave Connor sitting with his legs and torso tied to the computer chair where I was sat made me horny. I shot a reply. “Don’t email. Your punishment increases. – Lady T.” As I hit the ‘send’ button, I became aware I was being watched. Indeed I was, my boss was staring at the monitor like a hawk.

He called me in about 10 minutes later. I had decided I wouldn’t worry. After all, it was my personal life.

The surprising thing was that he didn’t tell me anything apart from routine work. I thought he was done and I was moving out, when he said, “I like it too.” I didn’t get it at first. Then, he lifted his shirt sleeves up. What I saw underneath made me understand what he meant. He had red marks all over his wrists.

That day, our relationship changed. Now I am the boss and he is my slave. I am Lady T for him also. Right now, as I write this from his computer at his desk, he is down there on the floor – without a stitch on his body and his wrists and ankles tied together. His back is red where he just got the whip. He is eying warily at the huge strap-on on the desk. Everything is set – his time for punishment is now.

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It isn’t like he has much choice. He is tied to it.

He sits in the black room, his arms and legs tightly bound to the chair by rope. At least he thinks the room is black: the leather mask he wears withholds the light from his eyes. Every time his tormentors leave him to suffer the pain they inflict him he hears the light switch flick; so he assumes the room is black. As black as it is cold and damp when they leave him alone in what he thinks is the middle of a torture chamber.

Three days he has been held by his tormentors who let out gasps and laughs of sadistic joy as they whip, slap, scratch, prod and milk him. He was a willing subject when they took him. He met them through an Internet dating site. The advert read:

“Wanted by The Three Dominas – new slaves to toy with“

He couldn't refuse them

The picture of them that accompanied the ad made the offer too good for Rocco to refuse them. When he hooked up with them in a public bar, the Pit & the Pendulum, for his interview he couldn’t believe his eyes; and when they invited him to their lair he couldn’t believe his ears. Once there, he was trapped. They immediately forced him to strip naked and put on a leather mask. Delirious with alcohol and excitement he was in no position to resist their commands.

Twice he ejaculated as they whipped him to speed up his stripping and  put a chain around his neck then forced him to crawl on his hands and knees to their dungeon. He relished every hit, every command, every second of it. He could smell their power and the leather boots they made him lick clean. It exhilarated him.

Now in their dungeon he awaits their return. Sometimes only one comes to toy with him, at other times just two of them play with him but he prefers it when all three derive pure sexual pleasure from his abasement.

His tormented body glows with perspiration. He feels it as it moves down his skin; fresh from the torture his tormentors inflicted only 30 minutes ago. The ball gag that locks away his own screams intensifies his fear beyond anything he has known before. He feels cleansed of his sins and the stresses of his job as a supreme court justice.

He waits in his adjustable chair for their return….

He breathes heavily in anticipation at every sound, every tick of the clock that is somewhere behind him, every drip of water that leaks from the pipe above him onto his head to trickle down his spine. His head turns toward every sound as he tries to see through his eyeless mask. He thinks one of them is still with him in the dungeon. He is not sure. He heard them all leave but  occasionally, with his senses heightened by fear, he hears hints of breathing and scraping like something is sneaking around him.

He jumps as something small and soft brushes past his leg. The ropes cut into his skin as they hold him down. His heart thuds like it is going to burst out of his chest at any moment. His whimpers and groans of fear barely audible but he thinks, no, he knows, someone or something is in the room with him. Watching him. Enjoying his humiliation.

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The metal door lock clangs as his dominas return. He sits still and listens to their footsteps as they come closer.

“Have you been a good boy?” One of them asks. He frantically shakes his head up and down as he grunts the word “Yes!” through his ball gag. Drool drips uncontrollably from his mouth. He hears the crack of a whip next to his head. He feels the displaced air strike his naked skin. It excites his senses. “Good” he hears her reply. One of them licks the drool off his body. Her hot breath makes his dick grow hard.

His legs part as the chair legs are widened. One of them crouches between them and flicks the top of his penis to make it flaccid. He feels a little ejaculate moisten his glans.

“We have a treat for you Rocco. Are you ready for it?” He grunts enthusiastically. “Good.” She responds, “Don’t move or you might lose something.” She laughs with delight as she says it. One of them pulls his face into her tits then moves behind him and pulls his head back so that it rests between them. He knows she is one of the blondes – only one of them has tits this big. His cock begins to harden again as he thinks how close his head is to her big beautiful tits. He feels vulnerable now that his neck is exposed. He feels himself getting harder. The whip cracks across his chest as one of them demands he stays flaccid. He feels another hard flick against his knob and he again softens as commanded.

“Good boy” the one between his legs tells him as though she were talking to a dog. “Good boy.” she says again as she pats his buttock from the side of the chair. He hears a packet tear opened and two pieces of metal tap together. He pushes his feet against the floor to try and raise out of the chair but it is useless. The chair is bolted to the concrete floor. His head presses back harder into the warm breasts behind him. He feels a hand stroke his exposed neck while another one holds his forehead and forces him to stay between the big warm tits. Panic stricken he again tries to move but it is hopeless; he is at their mercy.

“Hold still.” One of them commands. The whip strikes his chest again and again and again. The pain sears through his body as he writhes with pleasure.

The domina between his legs puts a metal cock ring over him and begins to masturbate his prick. He hardens quickly as his body relaxes to her rhythmic sucking of his nob. Her hot, moist mouth sucks his cock like a milking machine. She stops. Rocco groans in disappointment. The three of them begin to leave. Just as they reach the door one of them asks him: “Are you ready for your walk?” He nods in agreement. They walk back to him, put his leash on him and remove the ropes that held him to the chair. One of them tugs the leash and pulls him to his hands and knees then leads him around the room.

Crack!! The leather whip strikes his back. “Smell my boots” he is commanded. He gropes around and sniffs to find her boots. Drool drips uncontrollably to the floor. He finds the boot and tries to sniff it but there is a tug on his leash that holds him back. The leash holder chuckles.

“Here boy!” She says, “Here boy…” She taps a boot against the concrete. He tries to get to it. His leather collar chokes him as he forces his way over to it. The leash tugs harder. The whip hits him again. “Behave!” The whip holder shouts. He crawls on all fours to the leash holder and grovels at her legs. She pats his head and tells him he is a “good boy”. Someone strokes his penis and giggles.

His cock still hard, he is lead around until he is over a hot female body. “Fuck it” a voice demands. He fumbles as he is guided into position. He feels her arms around him as he penetrates his bitch. One of them sits on his back as he moves in and out of her.

Crack!!! “Faster” the domina sat on him shouts. He speeds up. “Harder” She shouts as she bounces on his back “Harder, I said, harder.” She gets off him as he gathers momentum. She pushes him off his bitch and one of the others climbs onto him and rides him, vigorously. The ball gag is removed from his mouth and one of them squats on his face and forces him to lick her clit. His bitch gets up from the floor and stands in front of the one sat on his face. She pulls her face into her pussy and makes her eat it. All four of them groan in ecstasy as they orgy. The intense pleasure makes him pass out but not before he shoots his load and pussy juice drips into his mouth and over his body.

See more in one of these dungeons: one, two, three and four

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"She peers over the glasses sat on the end of her nose and gives me a steely look. I feel a thrill run through my heart as she does it."

“Hello Mr Jackson,” my therapist said “my name is Donna. I’m here to help you. I want you to lay in the chair, make yourself comfortable and tell me the experience that gave rise to the sexual urges that trouble you.”

Sat upright in her chair, she looks damn fine and frigid. She peers over the glasses sat on the end of her nose and gives me a steely look. I feel a thrill run through my heart as she does it.

Donna looks like the seductive school teacher of every schoolboy’s dreams. Have you ever seen Bedazzled with Elizabeth Hurley playing the Devil? Then you know exactly what I mean: attractive and masterful. A bitch. A very fuckable bitch.

“Valentine’s Day.” I begin, “I remember it very clearly. It was six or seven years ago.”

“Mmm, hum,” She says, “continue, Michael, tell me everything. Be as open as you want to be. Use whatever words come to mind. Hold nothing back. The more open and honest you are the better this session will be. I’ve been a sex therapist for a long time. There is nothing you can say that will shock me.”

Donna’s voice is very warm and soothing. Hypnotic even. She looks like she’s a right randy whore when fired up. Very foxy. I’ve heard it said that the job a therapist does says more about the therapist than her patients. I wonder what fantasies will run through her mind as I talk. I’d better continue before she realizes that I’m fantasizing about her. I’ll close my eyes so I can relive my experience as I reveal it.

"She parked behind me, got out and walked around my car like a predatory animal, kicking the wheels as she did so. I'd never felt so frightened in my life. I hadn't done anything wrong. My mouth went as dry as a desert."

“I was driving on a long country road when I noticed a police woman parked on the opposite side. She was staring at me. I smiled and drove on. About five minutes later I saw her in my rear view mirror. She was watching me intently as she followed.”

“How did you feel Michael?”

“I felt nervous. I was young and inexperienced. I’d been driving for less than six months so didn’t know how to react.”

Oh god, she does look good. Smells good too. There’s something about being alone in a quiet room with a woman in a suit. Especially when she has authority. It makes my cock tingle. I know I can’t touch her and that makes me more frustrated and the urge to fidget is nearly uncontrollable. I’d better be careful with my thoughts. Donna’s eyes are watching me like a cat looks at a mouse. I don’t want her to know my thoughts are of banging her over her desk.

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“She followed me for about a mile before she flashed me to pull over. I stopped as soon as I could.

She parked behind me, got out and walked around my car like a predatory animal, kicking the wheels as she did so. I’d never felt so frightened in my life. I hadn’t done anything wrong. My mouth went as dry as a desert.

She said: ‘Get out of the car and spread ‘em.’

I did. No question of it. She sounded mean and she had authority. She pushed me as I turned to put my hands on the roof of my car and kicked my legs apart. I tried to talk. I couldn’t form the words to ask what I’d done wrong. She smirked and told me to ‘shut it’. I felt humiliated. I’d never before been in a situation where a woman was so dominant. She stood behind me. I saw her reflection in my door window. She looked me up and down, cocked her head to one side, put her hands on her hips with one gripping her baton, smiled hard and spoke forcefully: ‘Do not move.’ I didn’t dare shake. My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my neck and heard it in my ears. I felt like dropping to the ground. I was so nervous.”

“Did you feel anything else Michael?”

“Her pelvis.” I laugh, “She moved in to frisk me. As she reached around my shoulders and felt my hands she pressed hard against me. As she moved her hands over my arms toward my shoulders and down the side of my torso to the front of my pants my cock bulged like a flagpole. I felt confused. She put her hands over my hard cock and pressed it into my body with her palms and slid one hand further down to my balls, cupped them and squeezed. ‘Do you like that?’ she whispered menacingly.”

As I visualize it in my mind I pause…

“Michael, tell me the rest.”

Startled by Donna’s voice, my eyes open and my head spins to look at her. Her hands quickly move up to her chest. I can see her tits move up and down as she breaths. I should rip open her top and let them burst out of their prison before they suffocate.

"Her desk is positioned right behind her. As I look at her my imagination flashes with ideas of how I will throw her over it and fuck her brains out."

Her desk is positioned right behind her. As I look at her my imagination flashes with ideas of how I will throw her over it and fuck her brains out. My cock is so hard it hurts as it pushes against my pants. I’m telling her about my first taste of a powerful woman and all I can think about is fucking her hard. I can smell the sex in the air as I talk about it. Each time she breathes and makes a noise I think about the gasps and groans she will make when I stick my big fat dick into her tight little pussy. I swear she knows what I’m thinking because she looks like she’s hungry for it.

I’d love to put my head between her tits and push my tongue into her dripping wet pussy. I can see myself smacking her arse as I pound into her.

“Michael, if this is too much for you we can take a break.”

“Sorry Donna, I was thinking about something. I’ll tell you more.”

Little does she know just how “too much” this is for me.

“It was a quiet road with no traffic. She knew what she was doing. She followed me until I’d driven to the quietest spot. She had me where no one would see us.

She unzipped my trousers, took out my cock and squeezed as hard as she could then yanked her hand up and down over it. Every time I was close to cumming, she stopped. My mind swam in ecstasy. She turned me around, crouched down in front of me and began sucking it, moving her head up and down as  she did it. Her mouth was so wet. As I was about to blow my load, she shoved her truncheon into my arse. The shock made me push hard into her mouth and I cummed into the back of her throat. She stood up and with a very sexually thrilling voice said ‘I love the feel of hot spunk dripping down my throat.’ Then she left.”

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“Michael, tell me what you are thinking right now.”

Donna sounds much closer than she was, I should open my eyes to see where she is but if I do I will lose the image of her bent over her desk with her skirt pushed up around her waist and her panties dropped around her ankles. Oooh my cock feels so ready to fuck her tight wet pussy. Woops, I hadn’t realized I’d put my hands over my nob while I’d been talking to her.

“Michael…”

"I'm so excited my body has sat itself up and I'm looking at her like she's nothing but an object to fuck."

That startled my eyes to open. I don’t think she expected me to look at her because her hands are holding her pert tits and my notes are resting on her lap. She’s breathing heavily. I’m so excited my body has sat itself up and I’m looking at her like she’s nothing but an object to fuck.

Oh my god, she’s getting up and walking over to me. My heart is racing. I can’t resist her; just watching her move sultrily over to me is making my dick explode. She looks like a woman possessed.

She’s stood in front of me, griping my head, forcing it between her legs. She groans as I rip off her skirt and push my fingers into her dripping wet pussy. She’s so loud her secretary must be hearing everything; I don’t care. My fingers are pushing up and down inside her pussy and my tongue is licking her clit. Her pussy’s so wet I can hear it slurp as my fingers move. It smells sooo good and feels sooo hot. She’s burning and groaning. I open my trousers and grip my cock and wank as fast as I can. She pushes me back onto the chair knocking back my arms and lowers herself onto my big, fat, full cock. When I cum I will explode like a water cannon. She’s rubbing and pulling her hair as she rides me like a sex starved animal. She looks so horny. Her groans get louder and louder. I know she’s ready to cum. Her hands press down hard on my shoulders as she bounces up and down on my cock. Her wide eyes stare at me.

“Oh my god, Michael, Ooh, oh, ooOOoo…Mi..Mi..MICHAEL, OOH, UMMmmMM, YEs, MiCHael…that’s where I want you…Ahh Michael..OhummMm…yes, yes…YES!”

Her pussy squeezes tightly around my cock as I shoot my load into her and it convulses as she cums. The silky feel of our juices mingling together feels sooo good and hot and slimy. She falls on to me and passes out with her legs trembling. Her body is burned up and I’m so exhausted I have to sleep. If this is my sex therapist’s novelty cure then she’s definitely the right therapist for me…

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I couldn't really talk because I noticed she was wearing black stockings that matched the bra I had just seen

It all began a few years ago when I was injured in a motorbike accident. I’d broken both my legs, both my arms and fractured a few ribs. I was unconscious for a month. Thankfully, I wasn’t so bad that I needed to stay in hospital and be constantly monitored; and my mother-in-law is a nurse so she looked after me while my wife worked.

When I first awoke, I didn’t know what had happened or where I was. After a few minutes of semi-consciousness I realized I was laying in a bed in the spare room. I couldn’t move because my limbs were covered in plastercasts. I could barely talk. Eventually I let out a yell for my wife. I was surprised when Kate, my mother-in-law, opened the bedroom door wearing her nurses uniform. She told me what had happened, checked I was O.K then left to phone my wife and let her know the good news.

Those first four months were difficult: I was at the mercy of those around me. For the most part I was left alone in my bed with the remote for the satellite TV strapped to my right hand. At least by the fifth month the casts had been removed and I could walk around with support from my wife and Kate.

It was about the second month after I’d woken up that things started to get hot between me and my mother-in-law. I’d always had my eyes on her but I never in my wildest dreams fantasized she would one day be giving me regular bed-baths. This particular day my wife, Karen, was out working as usual and being tired from working the day before she was unable to bathe me as she ordinarily would so she had agreed with Kate that Kate would do it in the morning while she was at work.

She just walked in carrying a sponge and a bowl of hot water. Not expecting anyone, and definitely not her, to walk in just then I quickly flicked over from the Playboy channel and looked her up and down. For a fifty year old woman, she looked pretty sassy and was one hell of a looker. Had I not known her I would have thought her to be 40 at most.

She smiled and walked over to me, put the bowl on the side cabinet and removed my bed sheets. A wave of embarrassment came over me because I couldn’t hide my rock hard cock sticking out between my legs. I must have looked a site because I was only wearing plastercasts and my two legs were slightly parted and raised by ropes and pulleys. There was no way I could get up and walk out of the room to hide my embarrassment. She beamed a wry smile at me and said, “Don’t worry, I’ve seen one before.”

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I smiled back and replied, “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, please don’t tell Karen.” I felt like a schoolboy being inspected by a school nurse: I was nervous and getting shyer by the second. My feelings toward her didn’t help relax me either. As I apologized, I accidentally pressed the recall button on the TV remote and the Playboy channel came up. This just made me feel worse because there was a scene of a nurse riding her patient. I couldn’t believe it – my mother-in-law was in her nurse’s uniform and was about to give me a bed bath, my dick was hard and I’d just switched the Playboy channel on. Kate giggled, sat on the side of my bed, leaned over me to reach for the remote and switched off the TV. As she did this I could see right down the top of her uniform. She was wearing a black bra with a red bow on it. The heat from her trim and taught body made my temperature hit the roof and the head of my cock was so engorged with blood it was painful.

She proceeded to wash my upper body with a soapy wet sponge and asked me how I was feeling. I couldn’t really talk because I noticed she was wearing black stockings that matched the bra I had just seen. I asked her, “Do you wear racy underwear when visiting all your patients?” She just smiled and carried on gently washing me and moving the sponge closer and closer toward my near bursting cock. I struggled to contain my groans as she her hands got nearer to it.

“Do you usually get a hard-on when you have a bath?” She asked. I didn’t know what to say so I just told her it was a special show for her. She rinsed the sponge in the bowl and put loads of soap on it then began washing my cock. I asked her to stop but she just carried on rubbing up and down and polishing my head. I was powerless to force her to leave it alone; and, secretly, I wanted her to continue. It didn’t take long for me to cum and when I did I exploded like a volcano all over her face. She wiped it off, stood up, positioned herself in front of the TV, slowly stripped to her sexy black and red underwear, provocatively walked back over to me, climbed onto my bed, stood up with her legs either side of my head and looked down at me. She was still wearing her black stiletto shoes. I was in 7th Heaven. My mind raced with the thought of what might come.

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My dick had gone hard again. I looked up at her,  slowly took in her whole profile from her curvaceous legs dressed in fishnet stockings and her pussy packaged in a g-string with a red bow on it, over to her voluptuous breasts and right up to her face and long blond hair. My eyes were wide open taking in the delight before them. I was staring between the gates of heaven I wanted to ram my dick in it. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t touch her and my blood boiled in my body as it pumped around looking for an escape.

She gradually, sexily lowered her g-string to her ankles. It’s cup rested against my mouth. She commanded me to smell it and suck it. I did. Then she crouched down, rubbed her smoothly shaved pussy against my face and told me to eat it. Her g-string rested against my neck and was strangling me. I wanted it to never stop. She groaned and moaned in excitement as my tongue rolled around her clit and my mouth moistened and sucked at it. I became more and more frustrated that I couldn’t play with my cock – the agony was making me mental. As she neared her climax she sat harder and harder on my face, breathed and gasped and withered in ecstasy until she dripped all over my mouth. Then she got off me, wiped me down, got dressed, covered me over and walked out leaving me with the taste and smell of her pussy and a full cock that I couldn’t wank because I was tied up and in plastercasts.

She bathed me once a week from then on whether my wife had bathed me already or not. She still does 3 years later. Maybe one day my wife will fuck like her sex starved mother does too…

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