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His words penetrated her soul with a fever that no traditional medication could control. Wicked, his eyes boring holes into her frame as he sat across the room watching the young blonde undress. Each article of clothing tailored to fit, but she removed them as though they were thrift store quality. Money was never an object when he was involved. She would rip each thread from the silk in which it was sown if he demanded. She stopped at the panties, the red ones he sent to her the night before. Lace bikini cut with a small red bow on the band. They resembled the ones Victoria Secret used to entice men into the store. The difference with him though, was that these were the trophies from the last conquest. His bad habit was taking the panties from his victims.

 “Leave them on. I don’t want to see your cunt, well, not yet at least,” he vocalized.

 She moved across the floor like a cat stalking her prey, stopping only inches from his large frame. God dammit, why was he the drug she craved more than any other? Her lungs expanding with argumentative breath, she struggled with the intensity. Smirking, her crimson lips curling up, even the Cheshire cat would be jealous of her smile. A swift strike of her tongue over her bottom pillow, she moistened the stain with a saliva gloss. Yes, yes, he would like that. Her mouth was wet. He never said a word, but she heard him inside of her head. He didn’t need to speak. She knew.

 “May I?” she whispered.

 “May you, what?” he laughed.

 “Let you rape my throat with your cock,” uttered the young blonde.

 His hand moved down to the jeans he wore, grabbing the crotch of his pants with a rough grip. He was taunting her, and she knew it.

“Are you a good girl?” he asked.

 Her head shook from side to side as she smiled, “No, no I’m not. I am a cock craving whore.”

 As a master would call his dog, his hand slowly tapped his pants to advance her to his lap. Sighing, his hands now on the side of the chair, he waited. She didn’t expect him to help, did she? Of course, not. A cock craving whore knows her place on the food chain.

 “Thank you,” her body shook as she whispered.

 Slowly taking the space between them away, her slender digits working down his zipper with ease. The button next, one slip of her hand and she released him from the confines of his pants. It was at the point, that she used the tip of her finger to push a strand of drool that escaped from the side of her mouth. Looping the saliva around her finger, she pushed it back into her warm mouth, pulling back with a soft suck. God, wait, there was no God present here. All she wanted was her throat to be torn from her body and used as a cock sleeve for this man. He intoxicated her soul.

 He pushed his body back in the chair, lifting a bit to allow the release. As he placed his hands behind his head and laced his fingers, he waited. She knew what to do. They all knew. A breath exhaled, he was tired of waiting, and she would know that before the night was over.

 As though a serpent, her tongue perched between her lips, tasting the air around. Fuck, he was delicious, and she hadn’t yet tasted his nectar. Slithering up the underbelly of his cock, her tongue followed the thick vein from his sac to the head. A flicker back and forth, she painted his cock with an overabundance of saliva. Every stroke of her tongue caused her body to tingle with a wanton desire.

 “Umf,” he muttered.

 Both hands on the floor to brace herself, she wrapped those pretty lips around the head of his cock, engulfing it to the rim. A slow roll of her tongue, she fucked the slit with the tip of her oral muscle, pulling back with a sudden pop. Eyes to his, her lips in a well-defined whistle as she blew on the damp mushroom. Inch by inch, she engulfed him, her crimson prints left around the base of his thick cock. As much as she tried, the gag reflex was too strong. Choking on the size, her mouth slowly retracted, saliva pouring the moment her lips released the meat.

 “No!” his voice boomed like a clap of thunder.

 He reached out, grabbing the back of her head and forced his cock against the seal of her lips. With force, his hand pushed down, the head of his cock threatening to break her teeth if she didn’t comply. Lacing his fingers in the soft strands of her hair, he didn’t stop until every inch of his dick stretched her mouth to capacity.

 “Bitch, do we choke?” he asked, yanking her head back, looking into her shocked eyes.

 “No, no we don’t choke,” she whimpered.

 He pushed her head down hard, the head of his cock pushing deep into her throat, holding tight to stop her from pulling away. It wasn’t about what she wanted, but about what he needed. Forcing his hand back with regret, no sooner did he give her a breath did he take it back away. There is giving head, and then there is this. Throat fucking with a jackhammer speed, the head of his cock causing her mouth to bleed from the size. One after another, his thrust caused him to lift from the seat to impale her on the length. No longer a concern as long as she kept her mouth open, he used it for his pleasure.

 Gasping, her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. Crying with each thrust, her eyes widened, the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. Cheeks bulging, her lips burned from the stretch. Her pain was his pleasure, and the more she gagged, the closer to cumming he was. Her nostrils flared as his hand restrained her head, holding her throat to the point of collapsing around the bridge of his cock.

 “Fuck, eat that fucking cum,” his voice raspy as he demanded.

She opened her eyes with the first hit of scalding fluid down her throat. His nuts resting on her chin, he dumped them down her greedy throat in waves of lava from the head of his dick. Her cheeks expanded, filling them to resemble a chipmunk stuffing nuts in for the winter. In her case, she was on a liquid diet. Pure protein.

 He exhaled deep, leaning back as his hand released her hair, pushing her back from the over sensitive head of his cock.

 “Go clean yourself up. You’ll do better next time,” he laughed, lighting the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray. 

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Everyone keeps a little secret from their significant other from time to time, right? What is they are the desire to live a bisexual life? Should they tell her or him? Living a sexless life at any age can make the mind wander from time to time. The wife is the old term they used, frigid. She closed that refrigerator door long ago and padlocked it. So, what is a man to do?

SPOIL GYSPY

Porn and phone sex have become a lifesaver, but there is still something inside stirring. The need for a cock. At first it was curiosity, and then a craving. Now though, nothing will satisfy this need other than a big dick. This is where fantasy comes to play. Late at night when he sits in the basement watching porn, the daydreaming comes in.

Another night of nothing. I swear that bitch knows what she’s doing. Walking from the shower to the bed naked is cruel. She’s still a good-looking woman with a nice body but refuses to allow me even a touch. God forbid I suggested sex. Now, I tell her goodnight and retreat to the one place where I don’t have to fake my bisexual desires. The basement. My mancave became the only place I can enjoy my own sexuality without her calling me a pervert or shutting me down. She is the reason I call niteflirt girls.

Scanning through different ads, I came across one that caught my eye. M4M discrete relationship for sexual fun. What the hell? I called it and after talking and exchanging a photo of our cocks, I invited him over. I made sure to tell him to enter through the basement door. It was risky, but one I was willing to take. My own cock was rock hard and leaking even before he arrived.

A small knock on the door brought me back to reality, and I was shocked when I opened it. This man didn’t look the type, but then again, neither do I. Both of us in a sexless relationship, this would be perfect. He was about 6ft, dark hair, fit, and I could already see the outline of his cock in his pants. I was salivating for a taste but needed to be respectful. I do remember one thing from the call. He’s very alpha and would take the lead in our bisexual relationship. I’m good with that since it’s my first time.

This man, I will call him David, walked in with one thing on his mind. This he needed to get off, and I would be the one who did that. No small talk or chit chat, playing at home is dangerous, so we arranged that we would get right to the point. He wanted his cock sucked, and I always had the desire to swallow another man’s cum. No sooner was the door closed then I dropped to my knees, tugged his zipper down, and almost choked at the size. The picture didn’t do him justice at all. An 8 inch, thick, cut cock right there in my face waiting for me to make cum.

First, I stroked him, but knew that would never be enough. He could do that at home. Leaning in, the tip of my tongue rimmed the head, saliva already pouring down my chin.

“Suck my fucking dick,” David demanded.

Placing his hand on the back of my head, David fed me that dick. At first, I gagged when the head hit the back of my throat, and then, I swallowed. Fuck, this wasn’t gross or hard at all. My mouth sliding down his pole like I had sucked dick all my life. Gulping and swallowing, my tongue worshipped that dick. His precum tasted so fucking good. I knew when he fed me the real stuff, I would get addicted quick. Working my hand to my zipper, I pulled my cock out, stroking. My wife never made me as hard as I am right now.

“Be a good faggot and make me cum,” David laughed.

God, was I a faggot, or was this a bisexual dream? At that point I didn’t care. David fucked my mouth, and I pumped my dick. The moment I felt the swell in his shaft and the first spray of hot cum, I squirted all over the floor. Grunting and moaning, David pushed the head down my throat filling my stomach with its first load of cum. I didn’t even gag. His cum super sweet, I knew I could become addicted to this act. Well, until what he told me about next time. I will keep that a little secret though. I’m twitching thinking about how he will feel.

Let me know if you want more of this bisexual daydream.

The post Bisexual Desires; But Don’t Tell My Wife appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Resting on her knees in the front of church, the young blond looked up at the man wearing the robe adorned in religious garb. If he was a Priest than she was fucking Mary Magdalene. His kink always happened in church and always with the whore on her knees. Maybe he couldn’t fuck pussy right, but he sure could rape a throat to completion.

“Pull my robe up,” he demanded.

“Yes, Father. I am here to serve,” she giggled.

Maybe it wasn’t the right time to laugh, but she never did things the way others did. Her head flying back, his tattooed hand reminded her of who and what she was. A goddamn cock sucking whore. Licking her lips, the taste of blood coated her tongue. He split her lip, but if that’s all that happened, she would come out ahead of the game. He never once fucked her, but her body often felt like he had when done. Raw, tired, and sore.

Her hands shook like a crack head as she pushed the gown up, knowing what she would find beneath. He was at least 9 inches, as thick as a coke can, and the veins so prominent that she could see them pulsating.

His voice raspy, he looked down, growling, “Spit on my fucking dick.”

With delicate fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock, she spat on the head. A thin line of saliva connecting the two. Gypsy raked her teeth across her bottom lip to break the link. A sudden sharp exhale and she moved in to rub his dick and balls all over her face. Moaning soft, her warm breath blanketed his sac as the taut flesh massaged over her eyes, nose, and mouth. Fuck, he smelled good. Not the sweet after shower scent, but the aroma of a man who worked hard for a living.

His large hand knotting in the back of her hair, the man pulled her mouth forward, but not to suck. Not yet at least. “Use that serpent tongue. Jesus washed the feet of others, you will wash my dick with your mouth,” he said.

A simple nod of her head and she leaned in to extend her tongue, licking up the thick underbelly vein on his cock. A long slithering movement from base to rim, Gypsy avoided the head. That would come last. As though her tongue was a brush, she painted a thick cock of saliva around the shaft of his dick. Proud of the way it glistened in the candlelit room, she smiled a bit, but her job was far from complete. Wrapping her slender digits around the thick pole, she stroked him slowly as she French kissed the slit. Pushing it open with the tip of her tongue, she fucked tiny opening until the first bubble of pre-cum settled on her tongue. Moaning out, the sweetness sedating her for the moment. She wanted more, much more. As her eyes locked with his, she slowly stretched her lips around the head, lowering until just the tip rested in her mouth. Greedy, she pulled back quickly, a loud broken suction sound sending shivers up and down her spine. She wanted so much cum built up in him that he would beg to blow inside of her throat.

A quick slap to the cheek stopped her in her tracks. She was not in charge. She would never be in charge and needed to realize that quickly in the game. Catching her breath, she simply nodded and used her mouth in the way God intended it to be used. Widening her lips, she wrapped around the head and slowly lowered until her pout touched the base of his cock. She wanted a set of prints left in her wake and would make sure that she did it right this time. Gagging for a moment, Gypsy adjusted herself before forcing her throat to swallow the massive girth. He was big, thick, and as hard as a rock. God damn, she loved the way her throat ached each time he pumped those hips against the tiny opening.

He held the back of her head, thrusting forward with his hips. No matter the gurgles and gags from below, he never stopped the full assault on her throat. Smirking when the mascara ran down her face, her pain was pleasure for him. Tightening the grip on her hair, he forced the base of his cock against her teeth, each pump threatening to loosen them. As the heat built inside, he raped her throat, ignoring the fact that others walked through the church, gawking in disbelief. Some stayed and watched, and the others ran in fear. No matter what, the sinful communion taking place at the altar was no act of God. It was the Devil once again claiming his due. Yanking her head back, saliva pouring from her mouth, he leaned down, spitting on her tongue before scalding her face with every drop of cum that built in his balls.

“I baptize you in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. Close that cock hole and swallow. Take the seed into your belly you greedy whore.”

Laughing, the male grabbed her hair, wiped his cock off in the honey strands and walked away leaving her there covered in his filth. The sound of heavy boots and a slamming wooden door brought her back to reality.

“Fuck, I hate when that happens,” she laughed, pushing the remaining cum into her mouth and exiting before the cops came. 

I am the perfect little cock sucker!

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