We mailed out our package, and waited anxiously to see when it was delivered. In the interim, we edited and pictures and clipped the videos into segments. My husband wrote a note to my fan, explaining which order to open the files and telling him to enjoy smelling and tasting my pussy, and to send a video with his head buried in my thong while cumming to my video if possible. While numerous guys have cum to me and my posts, this would be the first one to do so with my underwear in their possession. That thought turned both of us on; we had already had sex while watching the clips we had made for him, and the thrill made my husband cum quicker than normal, and me moan louder than usual.
Our package showed delivered on a Tuesday, and we didn’t hear anything for several days. Disappointed we didn’t even get a thank you, we were still happy we went through the process, as it brought us closer together and allowed us to fantasize together about including someone else directly in our sex life, which is something we talked about even before we started posting on reddit, but has increased ever since. After 5 days, we stopped checking messages several times a day, resigned to the fact our fan was either shy or selfish, and didn’t want to participate further now that he received his prize.
The following week, we were surprised with a note, saying he finally had time to open the package, and was ‘blown away’ by it. He said he needed time to process, but that he wanted to send something as a thank you, if we were OK with it. He thanked us again, and said he was going to jerk off, for the fifth time that day.
“See, I told you he’d love it” my husband said.
“You’re the one who thought he ghosted us, and we’d never hear from him again.”
“You did too. I knew he fucking loved the package though, you thought he wasn’t responding because he didn’t like package, or the videos weren’t hot enough. You’re crazy, he probably came 10 seconds after putting his face into your thong.”
“I doubt it. I’m just glad he liked it. It would have been hot to see him cum though. I’ll take making him cum 5 times in a day. Do you want to try matching him?”
I gave my husband a hand job on the spot, my mind more curious than ever what my fan looked like. We fooled around more that day; I gave him a blow job while he watched the unedited clips from that night, and he did me doggy style, while making me say my fan’s name instead of his, pulling out at the last second and spraying his cum over my back, calling me his little slut, with a smile on his face. I put a harness and strap on on, similar in size to what we had used, and began dancing for my husband. He smiled and sat back, while I gyrated my hips and began grinding on his thigh. “I’m spent,” he said, “your fan may be able to go 5 times in a day, but 3 is my limit. I’ll get you there, so at least you match him.” He went down on me until I came, I nearly ripped his ear off in the process. As we got ready for bed, he brought out one of our biggest dildos, and asked if he thought my fan was that big. When I bit my lip without responding, he threw me onto the bed, spread my legs violently, slathered the enormous cock with lube and threw a sleep mask at me.
“Close your eyes and pretend you’re being fucked by your fan.”
Unsure how to read his demeanor, I put my mask on and laid back, waiting, nervously. He began to insert the dildo, slowly, out of necessity, as my walls had to be stretched before I was able to accept anything, including the tip. I used one hand to play with my boob, the other to help guide him, let him know when to push, and when I needed time.
“Uh-uh,” he said, “you don’t get to touch him. Your fan gets you all tied up and can do whatever he wants with your body.” With that, he brought out the hand and leg restraints, and secured my limbs, harder than normal. He continued inserting the massive cock into me, still going slowly, but more insistent, pushing further despite my body’s resistance. I winced in pain, and he said, “Oh, you’re body isn’t used to a dick this big?” he said, using a bass voice, lower than his normal baritone, “that’s too bad, because I would have enjoyed fucking your ass. If your pussy can’t take my dick, your ass has no chance.”
My eyes closed, even behind a mask, I allowed myself to picture someone else was in the room, grabbing my waist, trying to fuck me, but struggling because he was too big, and I was too tight, even after giving birth less than three months ago, and being naturally more elastic than usual. My husband’s hands felt bigger, held me harder, and increased my fantasy. I realized I had stopped breathing, trying to will this enormous penis inside me, to grant my fan their release, in person. Even after cumming 5 times, I imagined a cock that size still would shoot a sizeable load in me, and after struggling so hard to get past the tip, onto the shaft, he most certainly earned his reward. I wanted to say stop, put on a condom, but I remembered this was just a fantasy, and with how stretched I already was, didn’t want to add even the minimal thickness that a condom would add.
Suddenly, my left breast was enveloped, a wet mouth hungrily sucking away. Startled, I gasped, instinctually I tried to push away, forgetting my hands were restrained. While my husband enjoyed playing with my milk, and drinking it occasionally, he had never nursed me before. Usually I sprayed him with milk, or squirted it into his mouth, or in my mouth, then kissed him. This was different, he was sucking as if that was his meal for the day, the hair on his face tickling my breast, and the force he sucked with the only difference between my newborn. Impressed by his latch, my boob began releasing into his mouth, flowing freely as he continued suckling, occasionally swirling his tongue over my nipple, until it hardened to meet his will. He moaned, deeper and throatier than usual, and stopped nursing, releasing his grasp, feeling the cold rush of air harden my nipple again. I felt his mouth rush down the side of my breast, ‘I’m sorry,’ still using the lower voice, ‘that’s my first time tasting breast milk. I had no idea it’d be so warm, or so sweet. I also didn’t realize it would rundown after I stopped sucking, so I had to catch that last stream that ran down the side. It would be a shame to waste it. Thanks again for inviting me to try it.’
Lost in my mind, confused with reality and fantasy, I stuttered, ‘Sure, no problem. I’m g-gl-glad you enjoyed it so much.’ With his focus off of my breast, the intensity in the thrusts increased, and I found myself struggling between pain and pleasure, unsure which was winning. Ultimately, I had to stop and ask for more lube. ‘Oh, are you not turned on, or is your husband not as big as me?’ the voice asked.
‘Neither, both. I don’t know. I just want lube so I can fit more of you in me. I want you to cum when I cum, and I’m close.’
The penis withdrew, and I heard lube being applied liberally, and then put in my vagina by several fingers. The penis was reinserted swiftly, but I felt it go further in than ever before, and the sensation, so deep, so all encompassing brought me to finish immediately. ‘I’m cumming,’ I yelled out, regretting that my hands were tied and I couldn’t play with my nipples, my husband committed to the role of a stranger who wouldn’t know I like them tweaked when I cum. The massive cock was ripped from my body, and with it, my body expelled the fluids, as well as the air, that had been trapped with nowhere to go. A noticeable sound was made, bringing us both to reality in an instant. Mercifully my eyes were covered so I didn’t see the expression on my husband’s face, but he did not disappoint, saying, ‘Geez, I can’t believe you would do that to your fan. All that build up and you ruin the moment like that.’ He untied my restraints and collapsed in a laughing fit on the bed. Exhausted from the day, from the session, from my mind running wild, I realized I would just sleep naked, sweaty and satisfied, cleaning up would have to wait for the morning.
Almost a week later, my husband called me over to the computer, and told me to sit down. Unsure what was going on, he pulled up a message on Reddit that I hadn’t seen yet. My fan sent a short message, thanking me for my amazing package again, and apologizing for his inferior package. There was a link, which brought up a video, where my fan stood naked in a bathroom, in front of a mirror, my package sitting next to the sink, unopened. Confused, I looked at my husband, who told me to watch, it gets interesting.
Conflicted, I finally had a face, and a body, to go with my fantasy. As much as we both fantasized about who would get my underwear and dildo, we never knew if it would be some creep who lied about having a wife and was morbidly obese loner, or some kid pretending to be a man, tricking us into fulfilling his childhood fantasy, or whether he was who he said he was, and if so, average looking, above average, or below average. The great thing about fantasies is that you can imagine things as you want them to be, and the problem with reality is that it oftentimes shatters your fantasy. Thankfully my fan wasn’t old or young, obese or scrawny, he was relatively fit, but more than anything, he was average. ‘I guess we should have used a different cock last week, huh?’ my husband asked, as he hit play on the video.
My fan, touching his already erect penis, had my sealed bag next to a tablet which had the videos and pictures we had shared in a folder. He said he held off viewing them until he had time to show his appreciation, and wanted to share that moment with us. He opened the package, unwrapping my used bra, thong, and dildo, and laying them on the counter, without smelling or tasting any item. He then pulled up my husband’s message, read it to himself, then opened our clips in order, starting with the strap-on video, stroking his cock slowly, and when I started stroking mine, I noticed he kept pace, and we both used our left hand.
He kept touching himself through my tribute video, my husband noting he was impressed that me begging for him to cum and him not doing was must have been difficult. He picked up my bra after wet spots appeared on the video, and breathed in heavily, his cock seeming to grow even stiffer. The next picture he opened was me sucking the dildo, and I watched as he raised the same dildo to his mouth, and put it in his mouth.
“That’s a very trusting guy,” my husband said, “for all he knows, the last place that dildo was, was buried in my ass and we’re fucking with him. Lucky for him, he hasn’t watched the last clip, I guarantee he’d cum right now if he saw where that was before we sealed the bag.”
I sat transfixed, unsure what to think. I was immensely turned on seeing this stranger, naked and touching himself while watching videos my husband and I made for him. I could feel myself getting wet, my underwear beginning to stick to pussy, as I shifted my position next to my husband. Simultaneously, I was slightly disappointed he wasn’t everything I had imagined. His dick was average, almost exactly the same size as the dildo I had used and sent, because it was too small to enjoy anymore, and probably 1/4 as thick as the one we used while role playing last week. He wasn’t as big or strong as I imagined when I closed my eyes, or when I was begging the camera to cum for me, but as I considered it, I found myself asking why I expected a statuesque man to be reaching out to me asking for my used panties. Just because he wasn’t the man I imagined didn’t mean he wasn’t attractive, or someone I couldn’t picture trying to please me when blindfolded. I continued watching him as he watched my video using my wand, noticed his smile, how his eyes took in the different details from my video, and saw as he decreased the speed he touched himself, guessing he was close to cumming, and wanting to hold off for my benefit.
In the video, I stopped sucking the dildo, and he quickly put it down too, trying to mirror my actions. As he put the dildo down, it wound up sticking vertically on the counter due to the suction cup at its base, another visual reminder of its diminutive stature. I watched his video, as my genuine orgasm played, a huge smile spread across his face, and he stopped touching himself, his cock horizontal, practically level with the counter holding my items. As the video zoomed in on my thong, showing the wet spot from my orgasm, he tentatively reached for the thong in front of him. The video we shot stopped abruptly, zoomed in on my panties, firmly wedged up my ass, with a dark spot clearly visible, in the process of spreading but not included in our clip. I watched as he hesitated, my underwear in his hand, his hand practically under his nose, and saw the conflicted look in his eyes: continue to raise them while looking at the end of the clip, or take a chance that the next picture or video might focus on another area.
I looked towards my husband, who helped me edit the clips, and had numbered and named them before sending to my fan. Reading my mind, he said he didn’t know what was next. Together, we waited, both of us holding our breathe unconsciously, awaiting his next move.
“He’s going for it, I can feel it. They’re so close, he probably smells you already. I bet you he takes a deep breath and blows his load”
I said nothing in response, biting my lip, waiting to see what happened next. To my husband’s surprise, he lowered the underwear back to the counter, a look of defeat in his eyes, and clicked to the next file, while absent-mindedly stroking his cock with his other hand, almost to reassure his penis it wasn’t forgotten, and would be rewarded soon. The next file was a picture, with me holding my wet panties up, a smile spread across my face horizontally, while my pussy appeared to match my smile vertically, lips slightly parted, looking rather inviting (if I don’t mind saying myself). I couldn’t read the name of the file, but based on the smile that got bigger and bigger on my fans face, I knew it was what he wanted. I watched as he picked up the thong again, much more slowly this time, no longer rushing to match my movements on video. He continued touching himself, strokes increasing in speed, but still light, his hand not gripping his cock tightly. He used his other hand to turn my thong inside out, turning it around, bending closer to the screen and studying it. For a moment, his body blocked my view of the tablet, but then he straightened up, found the spot on my underwear that matched the wet spot on the picture, and put his face directly into my thong and I heard him take a loud breath in. Quickly, his tongue was out, visibly and noisily licking that same spot. He hadn’t yet completed his 1st lick, when I noticed his knees begin to buckle. “Oh, I think he’s going to lose it now. Damn, I was right, at least half right anyway,” my husband said. “Shhhhh,” I whispered, “I want to hear this”.
On cue, he started cumming on screen, knees continuing to buckle, his moans turning more guttural as he attempted to lick again. His cum was somehow fitting, no ropes flying onto the counter or the tablet, but dribbling out and coating his fingers, eventually dripping onto the floor below. In truth, the moment was mostly blocked by my dildo, which blocked most of the ejaculation. On screen, he continued stroking himself, his cock losing its rigidity and disappearing into his cum covered hand, which made his motions more audible. Next to me, my husband sighed, softly muttering, “that was a letdown”. I watched as he went from pic to pic, before viewing the last video, where I used the dildo. His eyes looked glassy, almost high, as there was a slight grin on his face, but he didn’t appear to be watching my movements anymore. Slowly, his gaze switched from tablet to dildo, but he seemed confused, almost as if his video slowed down, but I could tell from the tablet it was him, not the video. After the video, he flipped to the last picture, read the caption, then smiled one more time, appearing to shrug his shoulders and half bow. Suddenly, his head raised up, his eyes finding the camera in the mirror’s reflection, and said, “Thank you.” Then repeated it, almost to himself.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ro597k/rts_part_2_fm