Taken for a Ride [MF]

It ‘s a grey, drizzly weekend morning and I am in need of a good, hard fuck. I hand my unsuspecting husband his second cup of coffee, freshly ground just the way he likes it, and make a mental note that we have run out of milk. He is sat at the kitchen table where we eat breakfast together every morning, gazing out of the window at the bad weather.

‘I just want to make sure you’re definitely awake before I show you my new party trick.’ I mumble nervously as I pull a slim purple silicone buttplug out of my dressing gown pocket. I’ve been working up to this, fingering and lubing up my asshole while he was still asleep. I slip off my dressing gown, get down on the kitchen floor on all fours so that I am presenting for him and start to work it in. Taken by complete surprise, he turns the air blue with his appreciation and watches transfixed as I slowly push it all of the way in. I let out an involuntary moan at the still strange sensation, then gingerly edge myself around so that I am facing him and sat back, kneeling at his feet like the perfect little submissive. We smile at each other as he gazes down at me, stroking my hair tenderly.

‘We need to go and get some more milk.’ I say decisively, seemingly out of the blue. There is no question in my tone – we are going out in the next ten minutes. This must have thrown him but he’ll figure it out. I stand up awkwardly, everything feeling very strange and uncertain, and attempt to make a list of a few other sundry items we may need. I stand at the kitchen counter completely naked and start writing out a shopping list like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He sits there shaking his head, a bulge havng formed in his trousers that pleases me no end, and decides to help out by telling me what we actually have to buy. Then it clicks in his mind as with a wry smile and a twinkle in his eye, he suggests I go and get dressed.

I have just about got the hang of relaxing and walking normally when I reach the bottom of the stairs. My love has followed me of course, and gives me a sharp spank before asking me what I am waiting for. I grip the bannister and take my first step with great caution and uncertainty. By the time I’m halfway up, my back has straightened and I am walking with perfect posture. Knowing he is watching my ascent I change tack, bending at the waist and spreading myself before slowly crawling up the stairs on all fours with an arched back, all the time being urged onwards by his lustful words of encouragement.

Moments later I arrive back downstairs in my tightest pair of black skinny jeans, a plain fitted t-shirt and a zip up hoodie. I hadn’t bothered with a bra because a girl has to have some comfort. He pulls me into him and kisses me hard, groping my boobs at the same time and lightly running his thumb over a nipple – something that drives me crazy. As I bend over to put on my trainers, he roughly pulls me back up from behind, unbuckles my belt and tugs my jeans and knickers down to my knees. ‘I just wanted to check it was still in. Carry on.’ He instructs, and as I bend back over he lowers his face so that it’s close to my rump, inspecting me from behind. He knows it floors me to be scrutinised in such an intimate way and runs a thumb over the plug with curiosity before gently pushing on it so that I cry out. As he continues to make me whimper with his touch, running a finger from my clit all the way to the plug, he finds the pink loop just peeking out of my pussy. It’s the ben wa balls I found in our box of tricks upstairs, inserted to up the ante. I have never experienced any form of double pentration before and the fullness is odd but deliciously addictive. I feel like such a slut, having both of my holes filled makes me feel owned. When this is explained to him he tugs at the string in tiny jerking movements and I have to steady myself against the wall to stop my legs form buckling. I beg him to stop and once he’s had his fun toying with me, it’s time to leave the house.

As I walk through the doors of our local village shop, I can’t quite believe what I am doing. I grab a basket and hand him the list, telling him he’ll have to do all the thinking and move quickly. I squeeze past other shoppers wondering if somehow they can tell? They have shoehorned an extra aisle into this place, too much for the floorspace so everyone has to shuffle around awkardly to pass each other. I am so desperately turned on by my situation that I am dripping – quite literally, as that tiny loop of pink string is wicking my pussy juice out of me. The gusset of my knickers is already soaked, a useless barrier, and it is smearing all over the insides of my thick thighs. Fuck, what if it soaks through my jeans? I feel so fucking filthy and obvious. I back up to let a handsome man pass – he must be in his early forties – and I smile at him as we make eye contact. Clearly it’s too big a smile as he looks a little surprised by my enthusiasm, but happy nonetheless as the corner of his eyes crinkle and he shoots me a huge grin in return. I wonder if my lips are red or my pupils dilated. Do I look flushed? Do I look like a whore with both holes plugged up – is there a face for that?! This is a small place, a close-knit community. I personally know everyone serving behind the tills.

We stand in line waiting to be served. My husband makes a grab for my ass and then reaches his hand underneath my t shirt to stroke my lower back, checking to make sure I’m doing OK. I’m not looking at anything, just focussing on the feeling of my soaked underwear and throbbing clit so it is a surprise when I’m called foward by someone I don’t know. A new girl. Oh God, a very cute new girl. She must be in her early twenties, a little chubby, with glasses and long mousey hair. I try to act normal and I do not look at my husband, because he knows me well enough to have already clocked what’s occurring for me. She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t smile, is rude and dismissive. Job done, we leave and head home. But he starts driving us in the wrong direction.

‘I thought we might like to go for a little jaunt my love? I’m not ready to go home just yet. Not when it’s such a beautiful morning.’ It’s still raining. He refuses to tell me where he’s taking me and the tension hangs in the air as my breathing betrays just how exicted I am by this. I moan and shuffle around, raising my hips to take a little pressure off of my stuffed holes. We eventually pull up on the side of a narrow country lane, overlooking farmland.

‘Now, I want you to be a good girl and play with yourself for me while I watch.’. I sigh in relief and do as he says, pulling my jeans down and spreading my pussy for him, adjusting the seat so I’m half lying down. I’m still visible should there be any oncoming traffic, and I ask him to keep watch for me. He makes a half hearted effort, instead focussing on my finger as I draw little circles around my swollen clit. He makes me close my eyes in reticent embarrassment with his next words – I know when I’ve been busted.

‘The new girl was cute, wasnt she? I’m not sure she thought very much of you though. Do you think she could be persuaded to sit on your face? Do you think she’d enjoy that, if we both made use of youb together? Would you?’ I moan as he talks dirty to me, fuelling the fantasies I’m not even sure I should be having. He unzips his trousers and pulls out his thick cock. Without missing a beat I swap hands so that I am strumming myself and working his beautiful dick at the same time. Precum beads at the tip and I put my thumb to my lips to taste it as I cum. I cry out and moan loudly, with nobody to hear me I feel free to make as much noise as I wish. He tells me what a good girl I am while I shudder with pleasure. He slaps my pussy then, making my asshole tense around the plug and the balls in my cunt jiggle. But he won’t let me cum again, not until he says so.

We drive onwards. I am still unsure where we are going and I mock-beg him to take me home so I can have some relief from this fullness. I keep shifting, murmuring, spasming, and I feel held captive with both my holes stuffed. I don’t feel in control at all and I fucking love it. He has gone out of his way to find what must be all of the cattle grids and the most notoriously pot-holed roads in the county, making sure he hits every single one so that my tits jiggle and those balls shake inside me. Finally we come to a halt, again on a country road but this one is residential. We are parked in the midst of some very large houses with well-monied owners. It’s a side road, off from the main road near our home. We’re almost back but he’s not letting me off that easily.

‘I want you to suck my cock for me while we’re parked up here, like a good girl. What do you reckon these people would think of you, if they could see you doing this right next to where they live? They’d think you were some whore I’d picked up, wouldn’t they. Well, they’re half right. You’re my whore, and I’m going to fuck that pretty face of yours. Down you go.’ I unbuckle my seatbelt, shift round best I can in my seat and lean down, greedily wrapping my mouth around his cock. This is one of my absolute favourite things to do. It’s difficult and uncomfortable to be in this specific set of circumstances, but because I am an eager little slut it just makes me enjoy it all the more. His fingers run through my hair as he guides the back of my head, moaning with pleasure and telling me how skilled I am at this particular pursuit. I push my body further down still so that I can reach, wrapping my hand around his shaft and opening my mouth wide as my head bobs up and down. I do this so he can hear the visceral slicking noise of the crown of his cock slipping in and out of my throat, drawing out further moans of enjoyment.

There are cars oncoming. He spots them before I hear them. I feel him take a fistful of hair as he pushes my head down, and tells me to say there. I hear the first car pass then the second…. I realise I am stuck where I am, with his girthy cock right in my throat! I wonder how long I can take it, and the moment’s tension makes me start to splutter. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he warns as my eyes start to roll back and I try my hardest not to gag. Another car goes by. I decide not to tap out – something I don’t do readily anyway. I slow my breathing, relax, welcome him into me. The struggle stops and every part of me gives in. I can feel thick ropes of saliva forming – and suddenly he’s pulling me back up by my hair. My face is a flushed and embarassing mess, tears have been rolling down my cheeks and I didnt even notice. I swallow and wipe my mouth and he kisses me gently while I sit there gasping. He strokes my face like I’m the most precious thing in the world. ‘OK my love, now we can go home.’ He starts the car and I rest my hand on his thigh, giving his leg a quick affectionate squeeze. We drive onwards towards home, where the real fun can begin.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/c182rm/taken_for_a_ride_mf