The Magic Box

Chapter One-3

“I— I’d better not,” he replied at last.

“But you look like you need it so bad, baby,” she said with a faint smirk. It was true, and yet while her first thought was to service her poor dear’s obvious needs with wifely compassion…well, immediately afterward she thought to herself, too, of how flattering his reaction was, how deeply exciting. Yes, for even the most vulnerable naked waif standing slinky and nude and fettered in the slave market still possessed a power of a sort, perhaps a fetching doe-eyed mournfulness, a sly sideways glance that spoke volumes, a little pout of the lower lip that could not help but make her so-called masters weak inside…

Bill could only hold his breath, wavering.

Rolling her shoulders seductively, Elizabeth ran her palms slowly down her hips, then reached delicately, playfully into her pubic thatch to twirl a moist dark curl about her tapering white fingertip. Oh, how worked up she was! Scarcely a minute or two before, this had been just another ordinary evening, yet suddenly she really wanted a c**k inside of her, thick and straining and urgent. “Be my guest, sweetie,” she suggested. “You certainly deserve it.”

“I don’t think I should…” Yet still his eyes glowed wild and hungrily adoring.

“Just to take the edge off?” she wondered, pouting prettily. “I’m not sure you can hold out, baby, especially if you want to watch what a bad-girl I can really be…”

“If I’m going to share my wife with all my friends,” he said at last, quietly, “I think it might be rude of me to pump her p***y full of my c*m before anyone else has the chance to try her out.”

Her half-lidded eyes shone at what he suggested, at what he finally had encouraged her to experience. How she loved him! And yet how excited he clearly was, too, how desperate and urgent.

“Look,” she said, struck by a naughty thought, “how about if you just…just masturbate on me? I’ll swallow this time if you like.”

He gaped at her, wide-eyed. “You would…?” he breathed. Elizabeth did not really enjoy the taste or consistency of sperm, and it had probably been a couple of years, or more, since she had let him come in her mouth. But, oh, she just felt so wondrously dirty now, and ready to commit herself to more, even more… To her wicked delight, Bill’s face showed the grateful astonishment of a little boy.

“It’s only fair,” she said mildly, dropping obediently to her knees before him. She unzipped his trousers, and his c**k sprang out in her face, swollen and red and needy. “Besides,” she smirked, “this’ll help me get ready for all the other c***s you’re going to make me suck tonight. I need to be in practice, don’t I? ’Cause you do want me to be able to please everybody, don’t you?”

“Oh, honey!” he groaned in his excitation. Helplessly he began to jerk at himself like an animal.

It was very naughty, and yet very wickedly arousing for the magnanimous woman as well. Why, she thrilled the poor dear so much that she did not even have to perform fellatio—so excited and grateful and shameless he was that he simply had to whack off right in her face. Ah, how he must have needed it! It was dirtily fun to watch the great big purple glans twitching and throbbing in his flying fist, the tiny slit at the tip of the swollen thing already glistening with the ooze of his anticipatory seminal fluids.

Even after all these years of marriage, still this secret, primally masculine act thrilled her profoundly. He was big and male and muscular and hairy, but in his desperate arousal he was as needy as a baby. How endearing it was! Gently she cupped at the scrunched-up flesh of his sperm-heavy scrotum, encouraging, scratching, her soft palm cherishing the cool, jiggling sac wherein twitched and oozed the slow-dripping factories of his lusts. How wonderfully demonstrative and mechanical his excitement was, such a contrast to the slower, subtler pathways of feminine arousal! Ah, but she knew just how to treat him.

And when the sly, red-nailed fingers of her other hand reached up and began scratching and plucking at his hairy little male n*****s, he shuddered, and then with embarrassing, endearing swiftness he ejaculated, whimpering in his joy, straight into her devoted face! First came a squirt of clear, colorless seminal fluid that jetted splashingly across her palate, and then suddenly he discharged in earnest, that tiny little slit in the tip of the purpled head dilating seemingly as wide as her little finger as great dollops of thick, clingy gray ejaculate spurted all over the inside of her—all over! Elizabeth gasped, swallowing reflexively in order not to choke, gulping at the sour load as she tugged with a knowing roughness at the sensitive flesh crowning his masculine chest. Oh, how she made him feel it! On and on he poured his jism into her, triumphantly, gratefully, lovingly, and she took it like a w***e, somehow fiercely proud of her womanhood even in the depths of her submission. He shuddered and groaned as he emptied himself.

When finally her poor baby was done, she blinked up into his red, sweaty face. Smiling around the mouthful of bubbling slop, she opened her lips wide to show him how thoroughly he had soiled her. Her tongue tasted bitter, and her gums swam with the tangled coils of his desperate orgasm. How satisfying it was to have pleased him so! Yes, to be a woman was to be strong and yet supple, capable and caring and nurturing…and yet it also meant, at times, being simply a s*x object, a sly, smirking, softly yielding thing upon which a man could gratify himself. This fundamental, often unspoken truth was dirty, and yet it was somehow very right, too. Why, without that allure, that attraction, the species would have died off perhaps a million years ago, after all. Even in this harmless little perversion there was something fine and noble about prostituting herself to his basest lusts like that. Suppressing the urge to gag, she swallowed his thick, stringy c*m with a purposefully whorish smacking of her lips.

Elizabeth wiped a stray spatter of semen from her cheek and licked her finger speculatively. “Better?” she asked with a crooked smile.

“Uh huh,” he sighed. Breathing heavily, her husband began to tuck his sticky, shrinking organ back within his clothes. Gravely, then, he helped her to her feet and kissed the smirking thing chastely upon her shining, puckered lips.