Making Paul Watch Me

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I had been dominating Paul since before we got married. My twisted brother Mario had taught me how to tease, deny and abuse a cock years before and I loved it. Mario was three years older than I. I found the power I could exert over him when he was in lust, as I called it, to be truly intoxicating. He loved it, I loved it. I am sure that without Mario’s introduction and instruction, I would eventually have realized my natural inclinations. But he definitely sped up the process. He could never get enough cock abuse. Also, my mother gleefully dominated our household and enjoyed seeing everyone step, fetch, jump to her commands. I suppose that added to my burgeoning tendencies.

Whatever the reasons, I loved domination and found a surprisingly willing partner in my Paul. Thanks to Mario’s early lessons I soon had Paul my first real boyfriend succumbing to my every whim. I did not know the term edging when I was tormenting Paul but it worked like a charm. We both knew that we were fortunate to find each other and married immediatley after college. Soon afterwards, I found that the internet was good for things other than plagiarizing essays. I would soak my panties through reading of domination practices. I admit that the terms and the mountains of jargon annoyed me somewhat but the ideas behind them aroused me and inspired me to experimentation on my husband.

I want to tell you about the first time I forced him to watch me fuck. We were camping for a week in Killbear Park just outside Parry Sound, on the edge of Northern Ontario. For our first two days şişli escort and I wore the skimpiest little bikini, everywhere I went. I made sure to bend and twist before the other campers, providing them with quite a show. Then I would take Paul into the tent and bring him up and down the wave of ecitement, time and again. I denied him an orgasm for the entire time. He can think of nothing but me and his ultimate release when he is like this and I soak in his attention and revel in the control. I used my mouth, my vagina, my hands, my feet, as well as his hands to bring him to the precipice then stop. I would talk about the various campers that I was going to fuck. How he was to watch and learn. We gave each of them names like “knobbly knees” and “tight bum”. I would tell Paul what each of them wanted me to do to them, what they liked and disliked. I just knew from watching them. Whether I was right or not mattered little. I would tell him about the women that interested me and how the two of us could satisfy each other and abuse him at the same time. I wanted his mind swimming with sexual images the entire week we were there.

I was careful to note who angered him or made him the most jealous. He would become more aroused at the thought of me fucking someone who he was either jealous of or had an aversion to. I decided that it would happen that week. I’d get to ride a strange cock and Paul would get to suffer and writhe with lust. On the third day a couple moved in two spots from us. The man Jim was a work out freak with a ponytail and a foul mouth. Paul hated him on sight and I had my first lover picked out. I invited him over to our fire and offered him and his mousy wife wine and innumerable views of my ass and breasts. I made it clear that I was staring unabashedly at his cock and made jokes full of sexual innuendos. I even felt his muscles, for Chrissake. You all know the routine. After a few hours of drinking and flagrant flirting his wife ran off in tears.

“Fuck off.” He screamed at her back.

“Paul,” I commanded. “It’s getting dark. Fix the fire. Get Jim and I a drink then sit right there on the picnic table across from us. I want you to watch us.”

Jim could barely believe his ears but he had a good idea where I was going with this. I sat on the log next to Jim and began to stroke the inside of his thigh as we joked and laughed. Paul soon came back: gave us our drinks and tended the fire. When he was seated across from us I moved my hand to Jim’s crotch. I stared at Paul and began tracing the outline of the man’s prick. His hand shot over to my pussy and I opened my thighs to give him complete access. “Mmmm, look at the size of it Paul. It’s lovely.” Jim was crudely poking away at my pussy but I was consumed with Paul’s reaction. His hard on. The anger, jealousy, lust in his eyes. I had never been this turned on. I peeled the top of Jim’s jean shorts down so that just the head of his prick stuck out. I wet my thumb in his precum and slid it over and around the glistening head. Jim was kissing, licking and sucking on my neck. I’m sure he was yanking on my tits and I know he was finering my pussy like a fiend. I just stared at Paul. “I’m gonna suck him off then fuck him Paul. Will you like that? Hm? Will that get you all hot and bothered. And don’t you dare cum you little shit.”

Right there by the light of the campfire, with god knows who looking on, I bent my head to his cock and began kissing and licking the exposed head.
I would come up only to observe my Paul who was wanking and in a trance of somekind. I lowered Jim’s fly and sucked his cock in earnest, pulling on his balls and fingering his ass. I would pull my head away so that my husband could see what my hands were doing. Soon I took Jim by the cock and lead him into our tent. I made Paul follow and sat him in the little canvas chair set up in the middle of the thing. I placed my hands on Paul’s shoulders and stared him in the eye. I felt Jim rip off my bikini bottoms and I stepped out of them.

“That’s it baby. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like my husband never could. God your balls slapping my cunt are driving me crazy. Fuck me you fucking stud….” There were tears in Paul’s eyes coupled with both rage and absolute lust. I started to cum like a hell cat as I stared at him… a fantasy lived out. Without taking my eyes off Paul’s face I took his hand and lowered it to his cock. He was wanking as fast as Jim was pumping.

Jim soon zipped up his fly and beat a hasty retreat. Men are comical after they have cum. But, I remained completely still. My pussy dripping. Starring at Paul. I slapped his hand away from his prick. “Oh no you don’t. Not yet. I’ve got a little clean up job for you.”……..

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