My husband was almost done with his work, fumbling around with his computer as I glanced at him from my spot on the couch. He was an architect, tall, smart and funny, and didn’t have a dominant bone in his body.
Looking down at my phone, I reread the task I’d been given to commit it to memory. I couldn’t fail. I wouldn’t. Even if he seemed reluctant or tried to give me an excuse, I wouldn’t let him. I had to make him fuck me just like I’d been ordered to.
I let out a breath and closed my eyes, thinking about Him instead. I pictured his dark eyes staring me down as his lips moved with ease, calmly telling me to get myself used hard for his pleasure. I imagined him leaning down, his beard tickling my cheek and then my ear as he whispered: “Be a good little slut for me, Isabel. Make him fuck you and pretend it’s me, have him pound you hard on all fours so you can’t see his face. Because it won’t be him fucking you tonight, it’ll be me filling your cunt to the brim with my cum, it’ll be my seed dripping down your thighs when you’re done.”
The images where so vivid they just made my pussy cream harder. I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d been already wet, on edge all day as I went through my usual routine with my phone on me at all times, not wanting to miss a single message. Keeping my panties dry while talking to Him had been a losing game.
With a secret smile on my lips, I got up from the couch and walked over to the computer chair, resting my chin on my husband’s head and placing my hands on his shoulders, squeezing them gently.
“Are you almost done, baby?”
He let out a relieved sigh. “Already powering off. Sent the blueprints but I’ll have to wait untill tomorrow to finish the 3D rendering. I’m exhausted.”
“Aw, I hope you’re not too tired for what I have in mind.” Dropping a kiss on the back of his neck, I smiled as I watched him shudder like usual when I did this. “I’m so wet right now, I need you.”
Chucking in amusement, he turned around on his chair, letting me walk into the space between his knees. “You’re not tired with all the cooking and cleaning you did today?”
“I’m tired, but not enough. You know I have trouble sleeping and I thought you could help me and tire me out with a good hard fuck.”
He blushed and caresed my face. “Jesus, you have such a dirty mouth.”
He was just so shy and sweet and inexperienced and I had to somehow get him to drill me into next week.
“All the better to suck you with.” I said with my widest grin, leaning towards him to nip playfully at his jaw. “Come on, babe. I want to be fucked on all fours right here on the couch.”
“But what if-”
“Uh-uh. No protesting. The kids are asleep, your wife is begging you to fill her. Why are you hesitating? Come on, off with the sweatpants.”
He chuckled and kissed me loudly on the lips, standing up suddenly and almost sending me sprawling to the floor. “I got you, my love.”
And he did. He had me by the hips and righted me before making quick work of his sweatpants and boxers, doing the same to his t-shirt. He kissed me then, hard and ravenous and pawing at my white, lace panties and pushing them down.
I chucked my tank top over my head, not caring where it landed and ended the kiss so I could climb on the couch and drop my head on a cushion, my ass raised high for him.
“No holding back, okay? Don’t worry about hurting me and just get inside me, I’m already wet.”
He faltered for a couple of seconds and then reacted to my words, getting on behind me and gripping my ass with his left hand while using the right one to guide his cock at the base and line it up with my gleaming pussy. He grunted and thrust himself inside me. I bit my lip hard to avoid being loud; the sound of my ass meeting his groin and thighs were loud enough as it was, the only telling sign of what we were getting up to in the middle of the living room.
“Harder!” I moaned, slamming back against him. “Come on, you’re not gonna hurt me. I need it harder… Please.”
“A-alright.” He finally agreed. His hips thrust with more force and I braced, my face buried in the cushions from time to time to stiffle my moans.
I was so close, his big, slightly curved cock buried to the hilt, hurting a bit but so good. I liked that it hurt, I liked that I had to take it and bear it and manage to cum through it. It felt divine trying to focus on the pleasure when the roughness made my cunt recoil and ache.
I clenched and he gasped, telling me how close he was and that he wanted to wait for me, but the thought of forcing him to burst, of making it impossible for him to stop it drove me wild.
I started to move back faster as I rubbed my clit, desperate to finally orgasm after weeks of having only my fingers pumping inside. I remembered to think it wasn’t my husband, it was Him, his cock, his hands on me and his words, calling me his good little cum slut, a dirty whore for fucking my husband while wishing it was Him instead.
I imagined that if it was Him, he’d order me to reach back and open up my ass, to stretch up my hole so he could fuck it. He’d grab the back of my neck, squeezing hard, riding me forcefully. I thought it would be so good not being able to breathe with my head trapped in the cushions and his fingers on my throat as he warned me that I’d better cum while he rammed my asshole before I passed out.
That was it, the thought that did it, that had me gasping and frantic and coming all over his cock. I was relieved when I felt my husband coming too, slowing his pace and letting me move from under him and lay down on the couch.
“Damn, that was hot.” He said with a little laugh. “What was with you tonight? You were almost feral.”
I laughed and covered my face with one arm and let the other drift down lazily down my body, fingers running through the mess of our combined fluids.
“Nothing, babe. Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/gqjlx3/on_orders_to_get_used_mf_first_person