Tag: impregnant

Owning Professor Ballard Pt. 01

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Ass

Professor Ballard took another sip of Chardonnay as she continued to survey the crowd. These faculty receptions were so predictable. The usual suspects were all present and accounted for. She nodded at her fellow faculty members politely. There was the stodgy department chair. God, was he actually wearing a tweed jacket? What a dolt.

Over there was the cluster of teaching assistants and new instructors, always anxious to impress. All smiles and handshakes.

These people were of no interest to her.

She turned her eye back to the group of students. Back to Kendra. She had been watching the girl all evening.

Kendra Wilson was a 20 year-old junior who sat in the front row of her comparative literature class. She was a gorgeous, blue-eyed blond from Nebraska. Quite the corn-fed beauty, Kendra. Ballard continued to drink her in with her eyes.

Professor Ballard was 44 years old. She was a tenured professor of English. She was tall and statuesque and extremely proud of the fact that she had virtually no body fat. She worked out constantly to maintain her figure. She had large, full breasts which decidedly did not sag. Her legs were lean and muscular and terminated in a well-shaped ass.

In short, she was a MILF, and quite a sexy one at that.

She had been divorced for seven years. She had two grown children, one in graduate school and the other a sophomore at this very college.

The professor had led a quiet, normal life until her divorce.

That was when she had undergone a sexual renaissance of a sort.

That was when she had discovered the power of young pussy.

Kathleen Ballard had never had a sexual experience with another woman until she was 37 years old. It happened almost by accident. She was recently divorced and decided to get out of the house and attend a faculty reception, just like this one. She had gotten slightly tipsy and was surprised to find herself flirting with a pretty, young thing who was obviously trying to get in to her pants. It had happened before. Young co-eds often tried to seduce their professors, male and female.

But this time, instead of politely rejecting the girl’s advances, Professor Ballard had simply let events run their course. After a bit of coaxing and a little more wine, she had let the girl lead her down the hall to her office. That was how she ended up kneeling between the legs of a 20 year-old student. That was when she first felt the power of young pussy.

After that, she was lost.

She couldn’t get enough young pussy. She became a connoisseur. She loved the sight, the touch, the smell, the taste, even the sound of young wet pussy. In Professor Ballard’s mind, the allure of young pussy was further enhanced by its close proximity to young ass. The professor enjoyed pussy and ass in equal measure.

She had no interest in women her own age. She liked them young. Not too young, of course. She wasn’t a total pervert. In fact, she made it her personal policy to only go after upperclassmen. Well, there was that one sophomore chick, but she had been wise beyond her years. Ballard shivered now, remembering how that girl had ridden her face and howled like a banshee, while smacking her cunt with her open palm.

When she wasn’t working, all she could think about was young pussy. When she was working, all she could think about was young pussy.

Her career placed her in the perfect position to indulge her new obsession. She had a constantly revolving pool of talent flowing in and out her classroom.

She kept her eye out for the vulnerable girls with passion in their hearts and a touch of deviltry on their minds. They were at college. It was only natural that some girls wanted to experiment. Professor Ballard was only too happy to oblige. She learned to detect the ripening scent of precarious availability.

But most important, she learned to recognize the vibe.

The vibe was the current of energy put out by straight girls who might be interested in a harmless lesbian fling. Nothing serious, mind you, just a little walk on the wild side. Professor Ballard was very good at recognizing the vibe and acting accordingly.

She bonus veren siteler averaged one girl per semester.

Kendra Wilson had been putting out the vibe for weeks now. She was practically asking for it. And here she was, ripe for the picking.

Ballard’s reverie was interrupted by a question that seemed to come from her left elbow.

“She’s cute isn’t she?”

The professor looked away from the pretty blond and found herself staring in to the deep blue eyes of a striking young brunette who had sidled up alongside her at the bar. She was standing very close.

“What?” said Ballard.

“Kendra. She’s cute don’t you think? She’s my roommate. I couldn’t help noticing that you’ve been staring at her all night.”

“Excuse me. Do I know you?” asked the startled professor.

“I’m sorry. Where are my manners. I’m Jennifer Parker. I’m a senior.”

She held out her hand.

The older woman took the proffered hand.

She looked at the girl appraisingly. She had a perfect oval face with slightly almond shaped blue eyes. She had full lips and straight white teeth. She was petite, but hard-bodied with cute, perky breasts and a spectacular ass. Overall, she was quite the exotic beauty.

And she was putting out the vibe. Big time.

Professor Ballard sensed all this in the time it took to swallow a sip of wine. After all, she was an expert at sizing up new talent.

Professor Ballard coolly began to recalibrate her expectations for the evening.

Could she possibly have them both?

She gave the girl her warmest smile as she shook her hand gently.

“Nice to meet you, Jennifer, I’m…”

“I know who you are,” the girl said holding her gaze. “You’re professor Ballard, the dyke.”

The professor almost spit out her mouthful of Chardonnay. She pulled her hand away, as if recoiling from a bite.

“Kendra tells me you’ve been flirting shamelessly with her for weeks. She thought it was cute. When I found out who you were, I told her to seduce you. From the looks of things, she’s been doing a good job. Were you going to make your move tonight, professor?”

Professor Ballad took two large sips of wine.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said lamely.

The girl put her hand on the professor’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Professor. You’re secret is safe with me. In fact, I was going to offer you a taste of Kendra tonight, if you’re interested.”

Jennifer began rubbing the professors shoulder. Her touch was electric.

“Wouldn’t you like that, professor? We could use your office. I could have her spread herself across the desk for you.”

The professor stared at the girl in shock for several seconds.

Then, despite her discomfiture, she began to feel a familiar tingle in her loins. The words the girl had spoken began to sink in. Across my desk? Now? Was this for real?

The girl looked over Professor Ballard’s s shoulder at Kendra.

“You’re a pussy hound, right? You trying to tell me you don’t want a piece of that cunt right now? I might even let you have a taste of mine too, if you play your cards right.”

Despite her initial shock, the professor found herself oddly captivated by this strange creature standing beside her. She was struck by her calm air of authority and completely disarmed by her directness. She was blunt, but not threatening in any way. She felt herself begin to relax.

This could be fun, she thought.

She examined the girl more closely. She had a dark streak of primitive sensuality that was hard to resist. Her eyes were alight with mischievous carnality. She was having fun.

The girl continued to rub the professor’s shoulder. The gesture was surprisingly intimate in the crowded room.

“Or maybe I’m wrong and you’re just another middle-aged hausfrau who doesn’t like to play with girls. It’s up to you, teach.”

The girl gave her shoulder a final squeeze, then twirled on her heels and walked away.

Professor Ballard stood unmoving for a full minute as she replayed the transcript of the unlikely conversation in her mind.

Was bahis she really being offered Kendra Wilson?

She looked over at the cluster of students. Jennifer was standing next to Kendra, whispering in her ear. The blond looked over at the professor and smiled.

Did she just wink?

The professor refilled her wine glass and walked to the other side of the room in to the realm of the faculty. She drifted in and out of boring conversations she did not care about and did not recall. She was introduced to people she immediately forgot.

All she could think about was Kendra Wilson’s pussy.

On her desk. Tonight.

At last, inevitably, she found herself next to Jennifer again at the bar.

“Hi teach. Have you thought about my offer?”

“You’ve certainly gotten my attention, Jennifer. You’re quite an interesting young lady.” The professor realized she was a little drunk.

They looked in to each other’s eyes. Jennifer was smiling.

“But I’m not sure I understand the dynamic here,” said the professor. “Is Kendra your girlfriend?”

Jennifer continued to look the professor in the eyes.

“No, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my slave, professor,” she said evenly.

Professor Ballard took a moment to process this new information. She wasn’t shocked. She herself had dabbled in a little BDSM over the years. She liked playing the slave to young pussy from time to time.

“I don’t believe you,” said the professor with a smile. “You’re much too young to own a slave, my dear.”

She touched Jennifer’s shoulder.

Her tone was playful. She was openly flirting now. The game was afoot.

There was a pause.

“Oh, I see. The professor wants a show,” said Jennifer with a chuckle.

Without another word, Jennifer turned away and caught Kendra’s eye across the room. She gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

Kendra immediately loped over to join them.

She said nothing. She kept her eyes on the floor and stood quietly with her hands at her sides. Her legs were held slightly further apart than they needed to be. She was wearing a slinky black dress that only came up to the middle of her thighs.

“Kendra, say hello to Professor Ballard.”

The blond looked up.

“Hello, ma’am.” She curtsied slightly.

“Hello, Kendra,” said Professor Ballard.

“Kendra, tell the professor what you are, please.”

“I’m Jennifer’s slave, ma’am.”

“How long have I owned you, dear.”

“About two years, mistress.”

“And do you like being my slave, Kendra?”

“Oh, yes mistress. Very much.”

“You do everything I tell you to do, don’t you Kendra?” asked Jennifer.

“Yes, ma’am, of course.”

“Tell me Kendra, are you wearing panties tonight?” asked her mistress casually.

“No ma’am, of course not.” She sounded positively shocked by the question. “I am never allowed to wear panties.”

“Show Professor Ballard, Kendra.”

She was standing by the corner of the bar. It was a self-service counter. No bartender. The view of the rest of the room would be blocked by Jennifer and Professor Ballard.

Without hesitation, Kendra reached down and pulled up the front of her dress. She continued to stare at the floor.

Professor Ballard was struck by the raw eroticism of the gesture. Here was a beautiful girl standing in a crowded room voluntarily displaying her pussy to a complete stranger.

The pussy itself was spectacular. Professor Ballard could tell, even from a distance. She was an expert. It was plump and cute and clean-shaven. Her full lips were slightly engorged with arousal.

“Spread a little more, Kendra. Let us see it pout, dear,” said Jennifer.

Kendra dutifully spread her legs further and tilted her pelvis slightly.

Her pussy lips did indeed appear to pout slightly.

“Who’s pussy is that, Kendra?” asked her mistress.

“It’s your pussy ma’am,” she whispered hoarsely.

“I was thinking of letting Professor Ballard have a taste tonight. What do you think of that, Kendra.”

“As you wish, ma’am. It’s your pussy.”

“Are you wet, Kendra? deneme bonusu I believe I’m detecting a whiff of arousal,” said Jennifer archly.

“I’m always wet when I’m around you ma’am,” she said softly.

“Show me, Kendra. Two fingers should be sufficient.”

With that, the pretty blond plunged the first two fingers of her right hand in to her sex to the hilt. She sloshed them around for a few seconds, then withdrew them.

She held her hand out in front of her for inspection.

Her fingers were glistening in the dim light.

“Why don’t you shake Professor Ballard’s hand, Kendra,” said Jennifer with a wicked smile.

Kendra reached over and took the professors hand in hers. She gave it a quick shake, then wiped some of her wetness very deliberately across the back of the professor’s hand.

The professor raised the hand to her face and inhaled deeply, looking directly in to the eyes of the blond beauty. Her scent was intoxicating. She could feel her own pussy ripening.

“You can clean them now, Kendra,” said her mistress.

Kendra remained standing with her legs wide apart. She brought both fingers up to her mouth and sucked each digit thoroughly.

She was still holding up her dress with her left hand.

“You may cover yourself, Kendra.”

She dropped the hem of her dress.

“Ask professor Ballard if she would like to eat your pussy, Kendra.”

She looked up at Professor Ballard’s face.

“Ma’am, would you like to eat my pussy?” she asked meekly.

Professor Ballard said nothing. She was utterly transfixed. Her pussy was now throbbing.

After a moment, Jennifer spoke.

“Oh, dear, where are my manners? Don’t you think you should eat Professor Ballard’s pussy first, Kendra?”

Kendra looked down at the floor.

“Yes, ma’am, of course.”

“Why don’t you ask the professor if she would be so kind as to allow you to eat her pussy, Kendra.”

Kendra turned to me and looked me in the eyes. Her face was angelic.

“Ma’am, may this slut please eat your pussy?”

I continued to stare at her without speaking.

After a moment, Jennifer spoke again.

“Hmm. I’m detecting a little hesitation here, Kendra. Maybe the professor needs a little push.”

She folded her arms across her chest, then cupped her chin with her left hand. She held the pose for a few seconds as if in deep concentration. Then she snapped her fingers in front of her face.

“I’ve got it. How about we play a fun game to break the ice?”

Kendra and Professor Ballard looked at her expectantly.

“Here are the rules, Kendra. First, you convince Professor Ballard to take you down the hall to her office. Then you lick her pussy to three orgasms. Then you come back here and give me her panties as proof.”

Kendra and I looked at each other.

“Here’s the kicker, said her mistress looking at her watch. “If you don’t make it happen in twenty minutes, I’ll whip your cunt with the wire hanger when we get home tonight. Forty strokes.”

And with that, she walked away.

Kendra remained standing before the professor. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth began to quiver. She was obviously familiar with the wire hanger treatment.

“Oh God, Professor Ballard, she means it.”

“Kendra, please. Take it easy, dear.”

“No. She’s done this before. She’ll whip me if we don’t do this. I promise you I’m telling you the truth. You have to believe me.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Professor Ballard.

“Please, Professor Ballard, I can’t take another cunt whipping. Last time, I couldn’t walk straight for a week.”

“Kendra, this is hardly the time or the place to…”

She was practically babbling now. Her eyes were wild.

“Please, Professor, you won’t regret it, I promise. I eat ass too, ma’am. I’m very good at it. Please, you can do whatever you want to me. You can pee on me if you want. Please, we have to go. Now.”

She grabbed the older woman by the hand and started pulling her toward the door. Her sense of urgency was palpable. She was obviously on the verge of panic.

At last the professor relented and allowed herself to be led slowly out of the room. She told herself she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t let that beautiful pussy get whipped, could she?

It was going to be an interesting evening after all.

Her office was just down the hall.

The Benefits of a Girlfriend Ch. 05

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Asian

Chapter Five: The Primary Parts of the Plan Come Together

After my Tuesday night class, Adam was nowhere to be found, but as soon as I got home, Kristy retrieved a plate from the refrigerator and put it in the microwave. “Is that for me?” I asked.

“Of course, it is. I’m sure you’re starving, baby. Just have a seat at the counter and I’ll grab you a cold beer.”

I did, feeling strange that she was being so nice to me. After she got my beer and food, she sat down across from me, “Michael, I want you to know that I didn’t mean what I said last night.”

“Um…” I wondered aloud, “What part?”

“The part about marrying Adam. I meant what I said to him in the coffee shop, that I’m not going to leave you for him. I’m sorry I said that.”

“Huh?” I thought. I had spent most of the day thinking about that very exchange, what she had said about making me ‘Uncle Mike’ and half the time it made my stomach crawl and half the time it gave me an erection. “Why did you say it if you didn’t mean it?” I asked

“I think I sort of meant it at the time. I mean, it sounded good and it kind of went with the theme of the conversation. Plus, I could tell it was getting you really excited. So, I just went with it. But, I thought about it today and was ashamed for saying it because it isn’t true. Adam even asked me about it earlier and I let him know that even if he does ever knock me up, it is you I want to raise my children.”

“Do you really mean that? Like, you want to spend your life with me?”

“Of course, Michael. I’ve always heard it said that you should marry your best friend. And, you’re my best friend. So, yes I do hope to marry you one day after we graduate.”

I smiled, realizing most guys would probably run for the door hearing such an expectation for a commitment, but I’m not most guys. “I’m guessing it wouldn’t be a conventional marriage.”

“Certainly not, but take it easy. Let’s not talk about marriage right now. If we’re still together, we can talk about that again in a few years.”

Now I felt like the one pushing for a commitment all of a sudden. But, I just picked up my fork and began to eat.

“But, what I do want to talk about is last night. It didn’t go the way I had it planned thanks to you.”

I swallowed. “You had it planned.”

“Of course. I’ve had every night planned since Wednesday. Sometimes they went the way I wanted, sometimes they went a lot better.”

“Is that what you and Adam were referring to as ‘the plan’?”

“No. What we’re talking about is the goal. You’ll see. But, as I was saying, last night went a whole lot better than what I had planned thanks to you bringing up the night Adam and I first fucked. He reminded me of things I forgot and I reminded him of things he forgot. It was a really hot scene for both of us. You loved it, too, right?”

“Yes. It was awesome. So, what do you have planned for tonight?”

“I was thinking you should experience a blow job first hand.”

I was taking a drink of beer when she said this and I gasped causing it to run down my chin onto my shirt. She laughed as I regained myself and asked, “Are you serious?”

“Well, yes I am. But finish your food and beer first.”

After I did, she led me over to the bed and got down on her knees in front of me.

“To start, I grab the cock, lift it up by the head and lick along the underside of it in long, soft, slow caresses of my tongue. When the cock has become nice and hard and I can see a driblet of pre-cum on the tip, I move my lips over it spreading his moisture like lip gloss. Then, I lick my way down to the balls. I take them in my mouth one at a time, circling my tongue around the ball itself and then gently pushing it out between my puckered lips which I then use to lightly tug on the scrotum. And then I do the same to the other ball. I never take both into my mouth at once, even though I often can. It’s all about showing my appreciation for each one individually.”

She unzipped my fly and pulled down my pants and boxers, unveiling my semi-erect prick. “Then I take it into my mouth slowly, carefully rubbing my lips over the ridge of the head and using the tip of my tongue to tickle that triangle where the underside intersects with the head. Once the cock is again leaking pre-cum, I begin to stroke it using the broad side of my tongue to caress the underside in slight vibrations as I move my mouth up and down the entire length of his cock.”

By then I was throbbing and leaking despite the fact that she hadn’t yet touched me. For once it was the promise of pleasure and not pain that brought me to that point, so I begged, “Please, baby. Stop teasing and do it? I’m so ready for this.”

She laughed, “Are you sure you’re ready to experience a blow job?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Well, then, get out of the way so we can all enjoy it.” I hadn’t even noticed Adam come in the apartment or the fact that he was now standing right behind me. But as I glanced behind me, the shock caused me to turn my legs and the fact that my jeans were wrapped around my ankles made me stumble suriyeli porno and fall onto the bed.

They both got a good laugh at my clumsiness.

Then they both moved closer to the wall, away from me. After that, she unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them and explained, “The most important requirement for a great blow job is a cock worthy of a worship and devotion.” She looked at me and smiled, “I’m sure you, of all people, completely understand that some men will simply never be able to meet this essential requirement.”

I looked down at my shriveling prick and frowned. Then, I stood up and pulled up my jeans and boxers, feeling odd to have my inadequate offering on display in those circumstances. She watched me do it, smiled, and nodded her approval.

She turned back towards Adam’s crotch, letting go of the jeans she had been holding up. She pushed her face into his bulge and inhaled through her nose in a deep, slow, deliberate breath. “Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. You can always tell the deserving ones by the way they smell. The difference may be subtle, but it enters the nose and goes straight to the pussy. But, then, I’ve never gotten my nose this close to the groin of a man who didn’t deserve a blow job. Come to think of it, I’ve never sniffed your crotch, have I, Michael?” She turned to me, smiled and winked.

As she pulled down his boxer briefs and let his cock spring out like a jack-in-the-box, she kept jabbing me, “To me, there are few gestures more heartwarming than when a husband or boyfriend recognizes he has an unsuckable prick and shows his woman the consideration of stepping out of the way and pulling his pants up so she can fully devote her attention to a cock that is very much worth sucking.” She lifted his cock, ran her tongue up and down the underside of it and then kissed the tip in a lustful lipstick spreading motion. Then, she went down to his balls, worshipping them as she had described moments earlier.

For some reason this was more difficult than what she had done or said up to that point. It wasn’t so much the balls themselves as what they represented, what was inside them. It was the essence of a species purpose to replicate themselves through mating. I was concerned that this adoration represented far more than just sexual urges, pleasure and pain; that perhaps she longed for his genetic material and had no use for mine.

My thoughts were interrupted when Kristy let his glistening scrotum fall from her lips and turned towards me, “Why don’t you get on your knees so you can see better, Michael?”

“I’d rather not,” I answered defiantly, opposed to the idea of being on my knees while Adam, or any other guy, for that matter, was getting a blow job.

She looked at me sternly, “Okay, let’s try this again. Get on your knees, Michael. I will not have you looking DOWN at me while I’m giving a blow job. That view is for Adam’s big beautiful green eyes, not your squinty little blue ones.”

My instant hard-on compelled me to begrudgingly obey. Then I watched, first-hand, from about a foot away as she slowly took him into her mouth. As she worked her way to almost three quarters of its length, I could see her eyes begin to water and her face begin to redden. Yet, she persisted to go down another inch before working her way back up. After a few minutes her pace sped up. Watching her mouth engulf so much of his shaft left me wondering how she could do that. He had to be hitting the back of her throat, but she kept at it despite the tears and flushed cheeks until he grabbed her by the hair and started to convulse. When he withdrew, she squeezed him with her lips, presumably to milk out the last of his cum.

Then, she looked up at him and opened her mouth. He nodded in my direction and she turned towards me, showing me her mouthful of cum, before turning back to him. He nodded his approval and she swallowed it down. Then, she opened her mouth to show him that it was all gone. He leaned forward which I figured was to inspect, until he pursed his lips and dropped a large glob of saliva into her open mouth.

I felt a little of my stomach bile hit the back of my mouth. “Ewww!” I gasped. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

He laughed, “It’s just what you do. Girls love that shit.”

“No they… They can’t,” I watched as Kristy swallowed the glob of saliva she had been holding in her mouth. “It’s so gross and disrespectful.”

“Nah, man. You don’t get it. It’s not gross to them. It’s like a kiss. I just jizzed in her mouth and watched her swallow, so no way am I going kiss her for real, not until she brushes them real good. I do that, instead, so she can have a little taste of my mouth like she’d get if I kissed her.”

“Come here, Michael,” she ordered. As I slid towards her a few inches, she wrapped her arms around me and planted her lips over mine. I resisted at first, but as her tongue glided over my closed lips with a light pressure that pleaded for entry, I gave in. Her tongue quickly found the tip of mine, pressed it for a moment, then slowly backed away. qiqitv.info She continued to do this until I got the message and kept my tongue locked to hers as it backed out of my mouth and into hers. She slid her tongue beneath mine and prodded me upward, guiding me to lick, first on the sharp edge of her teeth and then along the line of her gums. It was like she was brushing her teeth with my tongue, but I didn’t object. I could feel her chest pressing against mine, pushing me backwards. I followed her lead backwards and onto the floor, our lips still locked as she fell on top of me. As her mouth salivated, streams of her water entered my mouth. I swallowed to avoid drowning from it. Feeling this, she pulled off of me.

“Now, was that gross?” she asked, winking and smiling.

“No,” I replied, overwhelmed by the passionate embrace. “It was hot.”

“I just spit a lot more of my saliva into your mouth than Adam spit in mine and you swallowed it all.”

“And some of my cum, too,” Adam chimed in.

“No, I think every drop of that found its way into my stomach. I’m stuffed like after Thanksgiving dinner,” Kristy teased him.

He smiled confidently, obviously appreciating the huge ego boost the scene had given him. She got up, hugged him and said good night. As I got up, crawled into bed and she joined me, Adam took his place on the couch. As we spooned, I began to think of what he said. “Did I really just have another guy’s cum in my mouth?” I asked myself. Then, I thought back to when Kristy was teasing me about my ex sucking off my coworkers and coming up to French kiss me right after or when Kristy did the same with Sam. “Probably isn’t the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” I thought looking at Kristy as I smiled and shook my head.

It wasn’t until the following night that I realized how right I was. I got home, cooked dinner, and they both came in a little after it was ready. After we all ate, Kristy wanted us to go into the living room, Adam and I sitting on opposite sides of the couch. She stood in front of the tv, like she was getting ready for a presentation. When she plugged a usb into her phone and then into the tv, I thought that’s exactly what she was doing. But rather than turn the tv on, she spoke, “Okay, boys, the past week has been very revealing and it’s gone much better than I could have dreamed. I think we’re ready to move on to the final phase of our plan, Adam. Michael, do you know what a cuckold is?”

Adam interrupted, “I don’t know if we should do this anymore, Kristy. I watched a couple cuckold videos today at school. Michael may be weird, but I don’t think he’d go for that shit; wearing a bra and panties, while sucking my cock.”

I opened my eyes wide, looking at her in disbelief. She just looked at me, then at him and laughed before saying, “That’s not what a cuckold is. That’s just some silly fantasy fetish video. I guess some do that stuff, but not most. As I asked before, Michael do you know what a cuckold is?”

The term rang a bell, but I wasn’t exactly sure, “I thought from literature that was when a woman tricks a guy into raising another guy’s kid, like the old jokes about the mailman and the milkman.”

She said, “That’s a great answer. It’s actually how the term has been understood for most of the last millennium.”

I smiled, like a boy trying to impress his hot teacher until Adam brought me back to reality, “But that isn’t what it means now, right?”

“Well, kind of,” she started to explain. “The term was borrowed from the mating habits of the cuckoo bird, who lays its eggs in other bird’s nests so that the other birds raise its offspring. So, yeah, that’s exactly what it meant at first. And it was one of the most insulting things you could call a man and usually caused fights, sometimes to the death. It still is seen that way in some parts of the world.”

“Why would people insult a guy for being the victim of his wife’s infidelity?” I asked.

Kristy smiled, “Because it was seen as his fault. See, strong matriarchal societies expect a man to be able to control his wife through fear and respect. So, a man who doesn’t have his wife’s respect isn’t considered to be a ‘real man’. Also, it was often assumed that she had a valid reason for cheating like he was unable to satisfy her in bed, which was due to him being an inattentive or selfish lover or being impotent or poorly endowed, like you, Michael.”

Adam chuckled and asked, “So how, exactly, did it get to mean what those videos show?”

“Somewhere in the renaissance period, a new breed of cuckold emerged, one who knew about his wife sleeping with other men and put up with it. Naturally, these were considered to be even more pathetic than the unknowing cuckold and a new, even more insulting word evolved for them. They were called wittols, which was a combination of the words of that time for willing and cuckold. The term isn’t used much anymore, but that’s what I want to call you and to make you, Michael.”

“Seriously? Is that what you two have been planning? You want me to willingly accept you travesti porno sleeping with other men and even having their kids?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, baby. ‘The plan’, for right now is for you to willingly accept the fact that I’d rather fuck and suck Adam than you, even though you continue to be my faithful boyfriend. And, I think you already have accepted that, right?”

“Well, yeah. So what’s the big deal? Why the secrecy about ‘the plan’?”

“Let me tell you about the recently evolved cuckold fetish before we get into that. See, with the birth of the internet and the digital voyeurism it created, more and more men started to want to see their wives with other men. Some were simply voyeurs wanting their own personal real life porn queen. Others were closet bisexual or even gay and just wanted to see naked men or perhaps suck their cocks like the videos Adam described. And, then, others were masochists who wanted the pain and humiliation of their wives preferring bigger, stronger, sexier, or better endowed lovers. Most fetish cuckolds fall into one or more of those categories and it’s almost always the cuckold, not the wife who brings up the idea of the affair.”

“Is that why you want to call me a wittol instead of a cuckold? I am a masochist and I like to watch. Doesn’t that make me like some of the others?”

“Well, yeah. The reason I want to use the word wittol is because it’s not as well known. That way when you tell people you’re a wittol, they’ll ask what that is and you can give them the definition I’m going to give to you.”

“Wait. Who says I’m going to share any of this with anyone, if I even agree to do it?”

“Again, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Anymore, in the fetish sense, the definition of a cuckold is rather confusing. Basically, self-proclaimed cuckolds can be any man whose wife sleeps with other men whether he be faithful or philandering, dominant or submissive, sadist or masochist, alpha or beta, cis or transgendered, well or poorly endowed, straight or gay, etcetera. Sometimes, they don’t even have wives or girlfriends. Would you believe there are some so called cuckolds who are just like Adam? That’s insane, right? Who the fuck would ‘cuck’ a man perfectly designed to fuck? Anyway, I don’t want to call you a cuckold because I don’t know what the fuck that means anymore.”

I shook my head, confused. “So what is it you want me to be? What is this master plan? What is your definition of a cuckold, I mean wittol, that you want me to be?”

“You haven’t even let Adam get one question in Michael. Do you have anything to say, Adam?”

He shook his head, an annoyed look on his face, “Nope. I’m just waiting to get past all this talking and get to the fucking part of the evening.”

“Patience, baby. Isn’t this what you wanted, me to unveil the plan to Michael so things will be just how you want them to be?”

“No offense, but if it was just how I wanted it to be, you’d be MY girlfriend and there would be another girl here instead of Mike. I’d be fucking both of you instead of listening to you explain to Mike how completely fucking worthless he is as a boyfriend.”

“Adam, if you don’t change your attitude, I’m not moving forward with this. Michael has been perfectly hospitable to you and put up with more than practically any other man could. If he wasn’t such a great and accommodating boyfriend, the plan would still be weeks away from this point. Instead, I’ve almost got him convinced and you have to go and be a jerk.”

I was just listening. He was being a jerk, but it didn’t really bother me. It’s not like it was something completely out of character, but his response was, “I’m sorry, Kristy. It’s just that I’m kind of jealous that you’re doing all this for him, so you can keep him as your boyfriend, rather than just dumping him for me.”

Kristy laughed sheepishly, “There’s no reason to be jealous. You’ll have pretty much everything you ever wanted for the next month and maybe even longer. As long as we can get Michael to agree to it. And, I’m pretty sure he will.”

“It’s not everything,” he argued.

“It’s enough, though,” she chided, “You’ve proven that you’re never going to be the faithful boyfriend I need, so you’re getting a lot, considering. Most guy’s would kill to be in your position; ALL of the rewards and benefits, but none of the effort or commitment.”

The word rang in my ears and I blurted out, “All? What do you mean by all?”

She basically ignored my question, “I think it’s time we watch the video.” She turned on the tv, played with the remote and then her phone for a minute and a video came up on the screen.

It showed a woman in a white blouse, a black knee length skirt, and black stockings sitting on the couch with her legs on the lap of a man in dirty blue overalls and work boots who was giving her a foot rub with his callused hands while she complained about her hard day at the office. The camera zoomed in on her wedding band and then his. Then there was a knock at the door and the woman answered greeting a large black man in a business suit with a passionate hug and kiss. Then she took his hand and led him and yelled to the white man on the couch, calling him hubby and telling him to follow her. He did so, crawling on his hands and knees to the amusement of the white collared interracial couple.

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