About five years ago, between the fourth and fifth semester of college, I had a bit of a problem with money and paying rent. Thanks to a friend who worked at a nearby country club, I was put in contact with several middle-aged and elderly couples who were interested in cheap, off-the-books cleaning and maid services, and who did not mind having a half-Latina college student working for them part time. It was not a glamorous job by any stretch of the imagination, but most of the people I worked for were rich, very rich, and their concept of money was entirely alien to me. Aside from the pay, which was fairly decent, I received a lot of little gifts, mostly food and snacks, and most of them were content to simply leave me alone and let me do my job without interference. Of course, there were a few anal-retentive housewives among them, but overall, I was able to simply go about my business, listening to music while I cleaned up their multi-million dollar mansions. Being myself from a low-middle class household, their splendor and extravagance never ceased to floor me– but that’s besides the point.
When school picked back up, I decided to cut back on the cleaning, and so cut ties with four of the seven families I had helped. Of the three remaining, one was an elderly widower who preferred to sit in his office and listen to Mahler while I worked, and another was a 60-something couple who spent most of their days touring the country or going abroad. I think one of them worked in the print media, although I have no real idea. In any case, most of the work I did for them was simply checking in on their place, dusting the shelves and making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. It was a sweet gig, if I may say so myself.
The last household was a middle-aged couple; she was maybe 50, while he was 45. Out of all of my clients, they always seemed the nicest, and usually left some kind of treat out for me when I showed up to help out. They were both very active and kept fit, and I always got the sense that they were very, very happy together. She had the kind of fiery, flirty personality that you’d find in a typical porn star MILF fantasy, and he was pretty mellow, if a bit quiet. It was obvious that he adored her, though, and she him; more than once, I walked in on them making out in the kitchen, and he would often slap her ass to tease her even when I was around. It didn’t bother me much; in fact, it was kind of cute to see how much they still loved each other, and each other’s bodies. There were a few locked cupboards and closets in their house, and I always figured they kept a pretty kinky sex-life, but honestly, that was none of my business, and if a chest of toys kept them happy, then I was happy to leave that chest alone. They paid me well enough that I had no desire to snoop.
Sometimes, though, you stumble upon something that forces you to snoop. This particular story took place in late September, when the worst of the heat had abated and the breeze from the ocean was becoming a little more crisp. I had originally informed the middle-aged couple – Let’s call them Dinah and Michael – that I wouldn’t be stopping by that week because of a major assignment that was due, but thanks to a bout of illness, my professor was forced to push it back another week. I decided, in part because I felt restless and in part because I needed the money, that I’d stop by after all and do my usual routine, but when I arrived, no one was home. At this point, I had earned enough of their trust to have a spare key, and since I had already driven the twenty minutes out there, I figured I might as well get it over with, and simply leave a note saying that I had been there. I went inside, gathered my usual supplies of mop, bucket and rag, and decided that I’d begin with the rooms upstairs. It was usually the easiest of the two floors, and I figured I’d be able to spot them out of the window in case they came home. The last thing I wanted to do was have them think they were being robbed.
I had dealt with the upstairs bathroom and two guest bedrooms when I got to the master bedroom. The door was shut, but I didn’t think much of it; it wasn’t locked, and opened easily enough. At this point, I should mention that the master bedroom faced out towards the ocean, and thus away from the entrance to the house, and so when I entered, I was surprised to find the curtains drawn tight, to the point where they shut out all of the light inside. Instead, about a dozen candles had been lit and spread around the room, casting a warm, eerie glow everywhere. In the middle of the room, the large, king-size bed was occupied by a single figure, strapped naked by the wrists and ankles in a spread-eagle X. Gasping, I immediately recognized it as Michael, when he raised his head and glanced down at me with huge, surprised eyes.
“What the–!?”
Much as I was shocked, I couldn’t help but stare at the big, firm erection that jutted up from his groin like a flagpole. A rubber ring has been fastened around the base, and the head of his cock had swelled up to enormous proportions, made further glorious by a sheen of what must have been oil that had been rubbed all over it. I had never seen Michael naked before – obviously – but the size of his cock seemed incongruous with the rest of his body, and I must have stared rather obviously, because he began to thrash and buck in a vain attempt at covering himself up.
“V___? What are *you* doing here?!”
His voice was hoarse, and the words dragged me out of my stupor. I immediately lit up in an embarrassed blush.
“I– I got an extension on my paper, and figured I’d come in..”
“Shit!” Michael sounded more confused than angry, and I saw his cock jerk fruitlessly as he threw his head back against the pillow. “My– my wife is out. She and I were, uh..”
“Y-yeah, I get it..” I held up a hand to ward off his explanation, and lowered my gaze. “I didn’t mean to–”
“I *know* you didn’t! I’m sorry you had to see this!”
“Yeah..” I swallowed, and tried to ignore the way his cock bobbed so enticingly in the air. “Do, uh.. do you want me to free you, or..?”
Michael sighed, and raised his head to look at me again. “Er, best not. Dinah likes to, uh… well, *keep me in suspense*, I guess.”
I really didn’t want to hear about their sex life. On the other hand, I was dying to know more.
“How.. uhm, how long have you been..?”
He barked a laugh. “An hour. I think.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. She said she’d go get some more lube, but–”
“I *really* don’t need to hear that!”
“Right.” He looked sheepish. “Sorry.”
Slowly, I took a step into the room, and felt the warm humidity close around me. Now that I was inside, the smell of sex was obvious, and I felt a stirring between my legs in response. Michael’s eyes followed me across the room, until I was standing next to the bed.
“Look, V___,” he said, but his words petered out before he got any further. It was hard to tear my eyes away from the bulbous crown of his cock, straining with the rush of blood that filled it. A slightly fruity scent rose from it, even from a few feet away. I frowned slightly.
“Isn’t it a bit cruel to leave you tied up for this long?”
He tried to shrug, but the restraints on his wrists made it difficult. “Dinah likes it.”
I looked up at him. “Do you like it?”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, his cock stirred slightly, and his eyes seemed to bore into my soul. I swallowed hard. It was odd to stand there in a pair of faded jeans and a bright, yellow top and talk to a fully nude and erect man, but something about the whole setup intrigued me. Michael did not seem particularly fond of his wife’s games, and I knew that I would not be comfortable simply returning to my cleaning while a man languished in bonds up here. It didn’t seem right.
Placing one knee on the edge of the bed, I made sure not to touch any part of Michael as I climbed up between his legs. His gaze lingered on me as I got on my knees before him, and the fruity scent of his cock grew in intensity as I dipped my head down to just a few inches from his cock. This close, I could see every bulging vein, every muted throb of his cock as his pulse echoed in the erection, and slowly, I leaned forward enough to wrap my lips around the swollen head.
“No, don’t…” Michael groaned, but then he fell silent. I held the crown of his cock between my lips, so full as to barely fit in my mouth, and let my tongue brush over the tip to collect the bountiful dollop of pre-cum that had already seeped out. I heard him grunt, once, and sigh, and then the dull thud of his head hitting the pillow.
Slowly, I opened my mouth wider and allowed the full glory of his head into my mouth. The taste of the fruity oil was strange against his cock’s natural flavor, but I simply stroked my tongue slowly over the engorged head, languid swirls to the best of my ability. By degrees, my strokes became full-bodied movements that brought my lips from the ridge of his crown to the midpoint of his shaft, leaving a glistening trail of spit in their wake. I could feel him throb with every heartbeat, and the noises he was making were downright lurid as his cock drooled a steady drip of pre-cum against the back of my throat. It wasn’t so much a series of moans as a sort of strained groans, as if he was honestly doing everything in his power to not react to the waves of pleasure that coursed through him, trapped as he was inside my mouth.
And somehow, that struggle made me double down, straining with my lips clamped around his bulging shaft to accept the head of his cock into my throat. I’m not sure what exactly had possessed me, why I was even doing this, and part of me knew that it was wrong – criminally wrong, even. To take advantage of him was a cruel, petty, selfish thing to do, and yet, feeling him throb potently in my mouth, I knew that his resistance was as much a show for his own sake as for mine. Rather than tell me to stop, he simply gasped, and rather than try to pull away from me, he instead ground himself slightly against my mouth, letting his cock do what his brain would not allow. I felt the tip linger on the precipice to my throat, and held my breath around the glistening manhood, feeling him shudder and jerk– and then the trembling suddenly turned to a full-bodied spasm, and I knew that whatever hopes I had had of deepthroating him were gone; he was coming undone, and all I could manage to do was pull back far enough that his tip was resting between my lips as jet after jet of cum poured into my mouth.
I couldn’t help but moan as the taste of his salty, slightly bitter cum hit my tongue; despite being experienced, I had rarely managed to make a guy cum from sucking him alone, and the amount of time it took for him to finally stop gasping and shuddering told me everything I needed to know about the state that his wife had left him in– worked up, pent up and desperate for release. I swallowed, keeping my eyes closed, and slowly pulled away as the last drops drained onto my lips. With the last bit of air left in my lungs, I exhaled a gasp of triumphant awe, and watched as the warm air washing over his cock made it tremble and shiver.
“Fuck…”
Michael’s voice brought me back to reality, and I found myself suddenly face to face with the wet cock of my married boss, a man with whom I had never been closer than a polite handshake. Now I had the taste of his cum all over my tongue, and the strange, gooey sensation of his load coating my throat and filling my belly. Watching his cock droop slightly, the sheen of spit and cum glistening along its length, I imagined stripping down and climbing on top of him to relieve the burning desire lingering between my legs, but the tone of his voice stopped me. It had been a moment of weakness for both of us, but that was it. Slowly, I backed away, licking one last, pearly drop from my lower lip as I did so. I didn’t know what to say, and from the way he was pointedly keeping his eyes shut told me that he didn’t either.
“Y-you should leave.”
He croaked out the words as if all the moaning had dried out his throat, and I nodded, feeling suddenly ashamed of myself. I’d never done anything like that before, nothing even close to it. It had felt strange and alien and exciting, but now the reality of the situation was dawning on me. Surely, he would not consider letting me work for them after what I had done– not to mention Dinah, and how she would react to find her husband all spent. Quietly, I made my way to the door, prepared to leave the house and the cushy cleaning gig behind. Only when I had my hand on the doorknob did Michael speak up again, this time with a softer voice.
“But… thanks.”
I cast a glance at him, and found him smiling weakly at me. His cock was still standing firm, propped up by the ring around the base, but his smile seemed genuine enough. I returned it, with a flutter of butterflies that mixed with the spunk in my stomach, and left the room. Carefully, I shut the door behind me, and then carried the cleaning supplies back downstairs to put them away. I had no intention of cleaning in my current state – I could practically feel the wet spot in my panties – and no doubt Dinah would appreciate me not being around for when she returned home to perform her triumphant overture on her faithful husband.
Five minutes later, I pulled out the driveway and sped off as fast as I could, intent to not run into Dinah on her way home. I could still taste Michael on my lips, and hear the echoes of his strained moans as I pulled up to my dorm, and with a slight sense of excited trepidation I began wondering what might happen next time I went to clean for them…
—
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Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/7acv44/sweet_release_mf_blowjob_bondage_dubcon_very
It’s nice to have such a well-written sexy story to enjoy. Thanks for sharing!