Wednesday, May 22, 2019

The Clean Up Song

Clean up, clean up.
Cuck hubby, let's clean up.
Clean up, clean up.
Suck his cum away.

Clean up, clean up.
Safe in chastity, let's clean up.
Clean up, clean up.
Eat a creampie each day.

Clean up, clean up.
Such a good boy, let's clean up.
Clean up, clean up.
She promises you it's not gay.

Monday, May 20, 2019


"Well," Sean's wife asks him, coming into the bedroom wearing a new bra and panty set he'd never seen before.

"W...well, what?" he ask, feeling his penis swell the limited space it can in the chastity cage.

"He's going to be here in a few minutes, have you made up your mind?"

"Monica, please."

"Don't Monica me, Sean, it's a simple choice. Locked in the basement for the night or stay up here and do what I asked."

He stares at her body, her long, muscular legs; her flat stomach; her firm breasts. He tries to remember what it was like, being inside her, that feeling he longs for every time he's intimate with her. Her lover will let him be intimate with her so long as he's securely caged. If anything, he encourages it, encourages her to wear pretty lingerie around her husband, encourages her to take his head between her hands, guide his mouth all over her body. It's like he knows, like he understands the closer he lets him to her, the more he wants her and the more he wants her, the more he'll do, the more he'll agree to.

"But...but Monica..."

"It isn't like I'm asking you to do something abnormal, Sean. I get it isn't normal for you, it isn't what you want to do, but that's the point, the more you tell me you don't want to, the more I want you to. I get so wet just thinking about it."

"But...but I'm not...I mean...I'm," he finally got the word out.

"Of course you're not, Sean, that's the whole point, that's why it makes me so wet. You don't want to do it, so doing it shows me you're acknowledging him as the man in our relationship, the leader. Dogs roll over and expose their necks, cuckolds fluff their wife's bull."

"What...what if know..."

"Cums? Ha! He won't, but so what if he does?" she shakes her head. "It isn't like you haven't tasted that before."

"From...from you," Sean protested.

"Yes or no, Sean? Up here or the basement?"

He thought for a minute, another. She said nothing; let him think, work it out. "Up...up here," he finally said.

"That's a good boy," she smiled. "Get undressed and go wait in the corner, love, you'll know when it's time."

Friday, May 17, 2019

Night out with the girls?

Yea, sure it is. She's totally just having a quiet dinner with her girlfriends. Your wife's totally not going to a bar to flirt with men. She's totally not going to end up in dark, secluded booth, a man's cock pressed against that hot ass.

Thursday, May 16, 2019


Sure, your wife's bull has his hand on the back of your head 'forcing' your head down on his cock.

But is he really? Forcing you? Or is it more like guiding you, directing you, teaching you how to please a man.

While you were reluctant, it wasn't like you said no. It wasn't like you your foot down when your wife told you what he wanted you to do.

No, you did as you were told, you got on your knees before him, took him between your lips, into your mouth.

He Knows

"Are you waiting for someone?" she heard a voice ask.

She turned, looked at the tall, muscular man standing in front of her in the hotel bar. "A tall, well dressed, man," she answered.

"Husband?" he asked, taking a slight step backwards.

"He's back home," she answered, saw him glance at her hand. "I don't wear my wedding rings when I'm alone, they send the wrong message."

"What message is that?" he laughed.

"That I'm taken."

"But you are," he said, intrigued by her.

"Yet here I am, in a hotel bar, waiting for a tall, well dressed man."

He laughed again, took a step towards her, pulled the chair out, sat. "Well I'm a tall, well dressed man," he said.

"Handsome and confident, too. I'm Samantha," she said.

"Ryan," he nodded. "You're really married?"

"Yes," she said, "does that bother you?"

"I sat, didn't I?"

"Some men won't, hence the rings at home."

"What if sees them? You're husband?"

"I should hope he would, I left them on his nightstand."

"You're serious? He's going to think you're cheating."

"It's not cheating if he knows about it," she smiled softly.

"Wait," he asked, leaning forward, "he knows about it?"

She nodded. "Of course," she said.

"He knows you're..."

"At the hotel bar looking for a tall, well dressed man to spend the night with," she said taking a sip of her drink.

"How...I mean..." Ryan stammered for the first and only time that night.

"My husband, Ryan," she leaned forward, touched his arm, "is the sweetest man in the world. He's got a good job, is a good provider, is a good friend, and in the bedroom, is thoughtful, tender, considerate, and selfless."

"Perfect, then," Ryan chuckled.

"You've been with many women, Ryan? I assume, given your confidence."

"My share," he said with a nod.

"You find most women want a thoughtful, tender, considerate man in the bedroom?"

"They say they want that," he said.

"They're lying," she said.

"I know."

"I'm sure you do. Women want a powerful, strong, confident man in the bedroom. They don't want a man who asks them 'was it good for you?' they want a man who will take them, ravage them, leave them speechless and weak kneed."

"He know?"

"He know, Ryan. Don't worry, a man like you wouldn't understand, but not only is he okay with it, he encourages it."

"Why are we still down here?" he looked at her hard.

"Because you haven't paid for our drinks and taken me to your room," she answered.

Ryan looked around, chuckled. "You better not be fucking with me, Samantha," he warned her.

"Not till we get upstairs," she promised.