Jus Primae Noctis
by Don Jetman
This is an account of our first public role playing with L's Dom at the helm.
It wasn't long after I had watched an old movie, The War Lord, where Charlton Heston
decides to invoke the right of "jus primae noctis" (the right of first night) after discovering
a beautiful young peasant girl and her husband preparing for their wedding. Whether the
medieval custom is fact or fiction, it became the seed of an idea that Dave enthusiastically
embellished. We moved the idea to more modern times where those in power may have
the lawful right to take a new bride on her wedding night. L wore her actual wedding dress,
and I was able to watch as she submitted, at first reluctantly, then with uncontrollable
hunger for her conqueror.
It was our anniversary, and we wanted to do something special. We hadn't played
with Dave, L's very first lover, for a few months, and I knew my wife would
be more than ready for another of our games. I emailed Dave and suggested a
theme. He added a few ideas of his own, and the plan was set into motion.
L and I were to play newlyweds, and Dave would play a powerful official in a
future time when, by law, a new groom must surrender his wife to him to be used
on their honeymoon night. While L wasn't a hardcore submissive, she did enjoy
being forced to submit at first, then lose control and fully surrender
herself to a powerful man. The idea came to me while watching an old movie set
in feudal times when the king could employ "jus primae noctis", the right to
"sample" a newly wedded wife on the first night of her honeymoon. I tried to
imagine the feeling, the total submission and humiliation a husband must have
endured - to have handed over his virgin wife to the virile, powerful king on
their wedding night, to know he would be the first man to take her, to anguish
over whether she might find pleasure in the king's bed, and whether their
firstborn might be sired by the king himself.
I reserved a suite at an expensive hotel in a nearby city. L loved the idea
and packed accordingly, including her actual wedding dress and some skimpy
new lingerie meant to make a husband drool with excitement.
We checked in around 4:00 on a Saturday afternoon. The suite was amazing, just
as I had been promised. There was a large bedroom, an even larger den/living
room, and a bath. Sliding doors led to a small balcony that overlooked the
enclosed pool and lounge seven floors below. I've stayed in a lot of hotels,
but this - this was true luxury at its best. L was thrilled, and couldn't wait
to unpack. Her wedding dress looked a little bizarre hanging with the rest of
her clothes, but it was a constant reminder of what we were there for.
After getting settled, I reminded L that he wanted her in her wedding dress
when he arrived. "You didn't watch me get dressed before our real wedding, did
you?" she asked. "Nooo..." I answered, a little curious about what she was up
to. "Then why don't you go get us some ice while I get dressed?"
Whether it was planned or not, it was a subtle message. As much as I was
drooling to see L climb into the dress as though it was her wedding day, I was to
be kept from watching her dress for him. It was hardly as if I was really giving
my virgin bride to him, but I knew how much the dress meant to her and I could
tell that agreeing to wear it for him symbolized the genuine surrender of an
important part of her to him.
I left the room and wandered the halls in search of an ice machine. My
imagination was churning overtime, thinking of her getting ready for him back
in our room, slipping into her lacy, white wedding dress for him. I knew what
she was thinking - how excited she must be as she prepared to be "taken" by a
man other than her husband on her wedding night. I imagined - no, obsessed - about
how she would pretend to surrender her body to him as her husband stood by
watching helplessly, and how she would at first merely submit, then moan
enthusiastically as she came in her conqueror's arms.
When I found the small alcove with vending machines, the ice machine was empty.
It took visits to two more floors before I found a machine that worked. I filled
the small plastic ice bucket and headed back to our room. My thoughts were on
Dave's arrival, how he would want me to lead her to him and put her hand in his,
my token acknowledgement of submission. What would he do next? What would he
demand of my "newly-wedded" wife, standing so beautiful and vulnerable before him
in her white wedding dress, a blatant symbol of her virginity and purity? How many
ways would he use her body tonight? And how quickly would the inevitable take place,
her complete surrender to the growing appetites of her fragile, hungry body?
All this and more was churning through my head as I returned with the bucket of
ice, slid the key into the door, and went inside. Dave stood in the center of
the room. L was on her knees in front of him in her wedding dress. Although for
the most part the dress fit like she had bought it yesterday, her breasts were
fuller now and spilled out over the top of the once modestly scooped neckline.
Had he tugged it lower to expose her breasts, or had she been interrupted in her
haste to get into the dress, forced to her knees before she could cover herself?
She played with his exposed erect cock with both hands, fondling it lovingly
with her fingers as her eyes stayed glued to it. It was surreal, almost obscene -
the sight of L as a new bride, her torso rising from a rippled pool of white lace
on the floor around her as she brought this intruder's erection to the limits of
its length and girth.
Several emotions hit me at once. I was surprised to see him there, and somewhat
disappointed that I was not part of his arrival, giving her to him as was our
usual ritual. The scene before me was very erotic, but it was a scene that had
begun to be played out in my absence. Was it chance that he arrived while I was
out? Or had he and L arranged it to surprise me? I found myself wondering what
had happened before I returned - how did she greet him, and what did he say to
her to put her on her knees with his cock in her hands? I tried to imagine what
the scene would have been like for the husband in our story, his astonishment
quickly overwhelmed by fear, doubt, and jealousy. I stood there watching for
some time, until Dave broke the silence.
"You'd never know she's a new bride," he told me, giving me his best 'I've-
taken-your-woman' look. "Except for the dress, of course. You probably saw
yourself in my place tonight, your dick in her hands, your eyes on her tits as
they spill over the top of her dress."
He stood there smirking at me, waiting for his words to sink in. His cock was
inches from her face, her fingers now trialing up and down along the bottom of
the shaft, cupping his balls for a few seconds, then returning back slowly. She
hadn't glanced at me once since I had returned.
"Of course, you'll never know her as a new bride. Before the night is over,
she'll be very used, and very satisfied, I might add. You can have her when I'm
done, but you'll live with the fact that I've had your new wife first, on the
very night of your wedding, and that the first orgasm she had as your wife was
with me. You'll always wonder how much she loved having my cock in her, and
whether yours would have made her honeymoon as memorable."
I knew, or thought I knew, what was coming, but I was still stunned. The scene
in front of me was so powerful, almost paralyzing in its symbolism. The stark
white wedding dress, my wife's position on her knees before him, her
attentiveness to his erection as he stood over her, gloating. She still hadn't
given me a single glance. L was playing her part perfectly, knowing what
would excite me, and was lost in feelings of complete submission to him.
He reached down, took her face in his hands, and tilted her eyes to meet his.
"Put it in your mouth," he told her. She did it, so obediently, not quite
eagerly, but without a second's hesitation. She held the head of his cock in
her mouth as she continued to play with him, gulping now and then as her eyes
closed. I guessed she was swallowing his precum as it leaked into her mouth.
L had never loved the taste of it, but she loved receiving his orders and
obeying him.
Again I felt a tiny stab of jealousy - was she getting more pleasure from
sucking him than she ever did sucking me, even if it was for a different
reason? I realized that as her husband I would never have the same effect on
her as the "other man" would have, that the taboo of her submission to a man
other than her husband was what made her fantasy work. Still, the pang of
jealousy was there, the thought that this was possibly something I would never
be able to make her feel. Then it hit me that it was what I was feeling that
made this work - that experiencing a tiny bit of what a normal husband would
feel if forced to surrender his wife on their wedding night made the effects of
role playing more authentic. My dick was practically bursting through my pants.
After a few minutes of this, he took her by the shoulders and gently brought
her to her feet. "Your husband can watch all he wants," he told her, keeping
his hands on her bare shoulders. "But he mustn't interfere. He mustn't touch
you, or speak to you tonight. Like a fly on the wall, he's to be ignored. Do
you understand?" She said she did. The look she gave him was so obedient,
almost adoring. My stomach lurched again.
"Tell him," he said evenly but firmly. For the first time since I had returned
with the ice, she turned to look at me. Her eyes were wide with excitement and
her face was flushed. "You can watch us, but you can't interfere," she repeated
seriously. "Ok," I croaked, feeling very lame and now genuinely helpless. I
could tell she meant it, or she was at least playing her part so well it stung.
She seemed to enjoy my reaction, and I remembered she had once admitted that
she was excited by controlling some men and being controlled by others. Her
admission was becoming very real.
Jus Primae Noctis
-
Don Jetman
- Player
- Posts: 340
- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
He guided her to the sliding door, opened it, and took her out onto the
balcony, she with her hands on the railing, he pushing closely against her from
behind. His put his arms around her and began to kiss her neck. Her head fell
to the side as she let him kiss and suck. I wanted to see more, and tried to
get closer, moving to the side for a better view, but from the back I could
only see hints of what he was doing to her, and very little of her response. He
pressed harder against her, attacking her neck and ear with his mouth. It
seemed as though she was just standing in front of him, submitting, exposing
her neck to him. I wondered whether her eyes were closed, whether she was
smiling or gasping for breath, whether she was wet under the wedding dress. To
anyone observing from below, they must have looked like a newly married couple,
oblivious to the rest of the world, so anxious for their honeymoon to begin.
He kissed her for what seemed like forever, over every inch of her neck, ears,
and shoulders. Finally I saw her reach back over her head to him, her fingers
slowly stroking and fondling his hair. Then, suddenly, I heard her say, "No,
please don't." Just once. Then nothing. Just after her small protest, they came
back inside. L was agitated and rumpled. Her hair was damp and flat where it
touched her neck. I stared in disbelief when I saw he had pulled the front of
her dress down, completely exposing her breasts for anyone who happened to see
them on the balcony. As the top of the dress gathered under them, her breasts
jutted forward, now even larger and fuller. She stood there, trembling, I
supposed from the shock of being exposed in public. Had anyone seen her like
this? I would probably never know. She just stared blankly at me. It was a little
disturbing. Had he gone too far?
He came up behind her again, reached around, and began playing with her
nipples. She didn't resist - she just stared at me. Was she OK? I needed some
sign from her, or I was about to stop the game then and there.
"A fly on the wall, remember?" Dave reminded her, his lips inches from her ear.
It seemed to bring her around. She smiled at me and winked. "A fly on the
wall," she repeated, looking directly into my eyes. She turned her back to me,
they embraced, and then kissed passionately. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"You probably think you have some time, that I'll play with her for a while
before I fuck her, and then you might be able to prevent it," he said to me
suddenly, still holding her in his arms. As I watched him fondle her exposed
breasts, I told him, "Um - I suppose so." I was never quite as good at
immersing myself in the game as L and Dave were, but now I looked back at him
with what I'm sure was a genuinely helpless expression. It was starting to feel
real, as though everything he said might be true. There wasn't a trace of
pretense in his voice, and L appeared a bit apprehensive, although definitely
excited.
I began to wonder what it might have been like on our real wedding night if
some very large Alpha, maybe an old boyfriend of hers, appeared in our
honeymoon suite and insisted on taking her first. What would I have done if L
submitted so easily to his advances, and then welcomed them? Could I have
watched them fuck? I doubted it. Back then the hotwife fantasy wasn't fully
formed yet. Still, it brought back memories of an incident that may have
planted the seed. If anything, those memories made Dave's scenario even more
vivid, more gut-wrenching, and more exciting.
Dave ordered her to sit at the foot of the king-sized bed. He told her to
lie back, and she did. He told her to raise her dress, and she gathered as much
of it as she could and pulled it to her waist. I stared. On her left thigh was
a white, lacy, elastic garter, much like the one she wore at our wedding. He
pushed the rest of the dress higher around her waist to reveal a pair of modest,
white panties. Easing the garter slowly over her bare thigh and calf, he
removed it and put it in his pocket. Then, very purposefully, without any
noticeable emotion, he placed his hands along her hips and removed the panties
in much the same way.
It was a strange sight. From where I stood, the bunched mound of material from
the dress completely blocked my sight of her from the waist up. He stood
between her bare legs. Her sex yawned open, now surrounded by a tangle of pubic
hair, left in place at Dave's suggestion to simulate her "innocence and
virginity". He often wanted her shaved, but this was a rare exception. Then,
unceremoniously, he lowered his pants, took out his cock, and buried it in her.
"You're mine tonight, aren't you?" he growled. He had stopped with the entire
length of his cock inside her. I heard her whimper a quiet, "Yes." He pulled
back, then entered her again firmly. "You want my cock all night, don't
you?" Another "Yes" from her. "You want me to show your husband how to make his
new wife cum on her wedding night, don't you?" "Yes," I heard her answer. He
kept it up, making her tell him between strokes how much she wanted him, making
her say the words, that she wanted a man other than her husband to be the first
to take her virginity.
Finally, after only a few preliminary strokes, he told her to get up, that he
was "finished with her for now". She gathered her dress and lowered it, then
got up off the bed. She was a little flushed and bewildered, but probably had
anticipated what he would do by now. Dave loved to get her worked up, then
leave her hanging. Much later, by the time he would finally make her cum, she
would be completely out of control, a wild woman who would do anything for her
long-awaited orgasm. Deprivation followed by reward. It was what he did best.
"You'll always remember this -," he told me, "watching me deflower your sweet
little virgin wife. Every time you make love to her you'll think of my cock
entering her, and how the first man to take her will always be special to her.
In fact, it's such a special service I've provided, I think you should thank
me."
"Thank you," I told him, in my best faux-humiliated voice.
"Well, what are you thanking me for?"
"Thank you for deflowering my new wife," I said.
"You're very welcome - I'll come back and fuck her any time she wants from now
on - any time you're just not up to satisfying her. That's fine with you, isn't
it, L?"
She did her best to hesitate, to pretend to protect my male ego before finally
telling him, "Yes - if my husband can't satisfy me, you can have me, whenever
you want me."
He told her to change for dinner, and told me to go to the other room. "You've
seen enough for now," he said. I left the bedroom, turned the corner into the
remaining room of the suite, and took a seat on the sofa. I couldn't hear them
speak, just the movement and rustling sounds of L getting out of her wedding
dress and into something more presentable for dinner. I knew he was watching
her, probably even unzipping the wedding dress and helping her out of it. Was
he touching her? Stroking her belly or ass as she bared herself in front of
him? Was he behaving as any new groom might, cupping her breasts, kissing her
and holding her close when she was finally naked? Not knowing, not seeing, was
torture.
Finally he told me I could return to the bedroom. They were standing side-by-
side, holding hands. L wore her little black dress, the same one she wore when
we went to dinner with Dave months ago. She had fixed her hair and makeup, and
she was stunning. They really did look like a couple, maybe even a new husband
and wife. He stood beside her, confident and protective, she with a look that
showed she loved "confident and protective". Any resistance she was supposed to
display had vanished very quickly.
"Did you know your new wife would be so easy?" he asked me. "Just look at her
face. Who do you think she wants to share her bed with tonight, me or you?"
L looked at me, then lowered her eyes to the floor, finally showing some display
of shame, but it wasn't very convincing. I could tell she wanted him.
"You," I told him, trying to sound disappointed. "I guess she wants you."
"There's no guessing about it," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen an
easier woman. Right now, she wants to fuck me more than anything. She's
standing here beside me in her little black dress, soaked between her legs,
enough to drench her panties, if she was wearing any. She's dripping wet
because she wants a fuck she'll remember on her wedding night, a fuck she'll
think about every time you put your hands on her, every time you make love to
her in your bed."
My God, the scene was convincing. I truly believed he did own her at that
moment. And L wouldn't look at me. I truly believed she was genuinely at
least a little embarrassed, even if part of it was role-playing. Her small hand
was engulfed in his, clutching it instinctively, clinging to him just as she
clung to the hope he would soon give her what she wanted so she wouldn't have
to wait in a constant state of heat. She kept looking at the floor, her head
down, her hair swept forward half-covering her face, hiding her eyes from me.
Her body had already surrendered to him, helplessly, involuntarily.
"We're going to dinner," he told me. "You can watch us from another table, but
keep your distance. I'm going to make your wife wait for me to fuck her. She'll
sit across from me, her wet little pussy so hungry for my cock while I tell her
what I plan to do to her tonight. You'll probably be hard just imagining what
I'm telling her, because you want me to be the first to take her in your
marital bed, don't you? You need a real man to give her a honeymoon fucking
that will put a smile on her face for years to come, don't you?"
I waited for her to look up at me, then asked her, "Is that what you want?" She
eyed me very seriously, then answered, "I'm sorry, but I do."
Again, it was hard to tell whether she was acting or serious. She stood so
close to him, her hand still clasped so tightly in his.
"In fact, it's what you both want, isn't it?" he said to me. I managed to utter
a quiet "yes". Strangely, it was what we both wanted - as a fantasy. He had given
it life, with words and sight and his uncanny skill for enveloping L in a fog of
compliance and willful infidelity. Together they led me along, intoxicated by the
wafting remains of his magic, complicit and helpless to disrupt it.
He led her to the door, ushering her through it, then closed it behind them. I
gave them five minutes, then took the elevator to the dining room. He was right,
as usual. I was hard just thinking of them together.
balcony, she with her hands on the railing, he pushing closely against her from
behind. His put his arms around her and began to kiss her neck. Her head fell
to the side as she let him kiss and suck. I wanted to see more, and tried to
get closer, moving to the side for a better view, but from the back I could
only see hints of what he was doing to her, and very little of her response. He
pressed harder against her, attacking her neck and ear with his mouth. It
seemed as though she was just standing in front of him, submitting, exposing
her neck to him. I wondered whether her eyes were closed, whether she was
smiling or gasping for breath, whether she was wet under the wedding dress. To
anyone observing from below, they must have looked like a newly married couple,
oblivious to the rest of the world, so anxious for their honeymoon to begin.
He kissed her for what seemed like forever, over every inch of her neck, ears,
and shoulders. Finally I saw her reach back over her head to him, her fingers
slowly stroking and fondling his hair. Then, suddenly, I heard her say, "No,
please don't." Just once. Then nothing. Just after her small protest, they came
back inside. L was agitated and rumpled. Her hair was damp and flat where it
touched her neck. I stared in disbelief when I saw he had pulled the front of
her dress down, completely exposing her breasts for anyone who happened to see
them on the balcony. As the top of the dress gathered under them, her breasts
jutted forward, now even larger and fuller. She stood there, trembling, I
supposed from the shock of being exposed in public. Had anyone seen her like
this? I would probably never know. She just stared blankly at me. It was a little
disturbing. Had he gone too far?
He came up behind her again, reached around, and began playing with her
nipples. She didn't resist - she just stared at me. Was she OK? I needed some
sign from her, or I was about to stop the game then and there.
"A fly on the wall, remember?" Dave reminded her, his lips inches from her ear.
It seemed to bring her around. She smiled at me and winked. "A fly on the
wall," she repeated, looking directly into my eyes. She turned her back to me,
they embraced, and then kissed passionately. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"You probably think you have some time, that I'll play with her for a while
before I fuck her, and then you might be able to prevent it," he said to me
suddenly, still holding her in his arms. As I watched him fondle her exposed
breasts, I told him, "Um - I suppose so." I was never quite as good at
immersing myself in the game as L and Dave were, but now I looked back at him
with what I'm sure was a genuinely helpless expression. It was starting to feel
real, as though everything he said might be true. There wasn't a trace of
pretense in his voice, and L appeared a bit apprehensive, although definitely
excited.
I began to wonder what it might have been like on our real wedding night if
some very large Alpha, maybe an old boyfriend of hers, appeared in our
honeymoon suite and insisted on taking her first. What would I have done if L
submitted so easily to his advances, and then welcomed them? Could I have
watched them fuck? I doubted it. Back then the hotwife fantasy wasn't fully
formed yet. Still, it brought back memories of an incident that may have
planted the seed. If anything, those memories made Dave's scenario even more
vivid, more gut-wrenching, and more exciting.
Dave ordered her to sit at the foot of the king-sized bed. He told her to
lie back, and she did. He told her to raise her dress, and she gathered as much
of it as she could and pulled it to her waist. I stared. On her left thigh was
a white, lacy, elastic garter, much like the one she wore at our wedding. He
pushed the rest of the dress higher around her waist to reveal a pair of modest,
white panties. Easing the garter slowly over her bare thigh and calf, he
removed it and put it in his pocket. Then, very purposefully, without any
noticeable emotion, he placed his hands along her hips and removed the panties
in much the same way.
It was a strange sight. From where I stood, the bunched mound of material from
the dress completely blocked my sight of her from the waist up. He stood
between her bare legs. Her sex yawned open, now surrounded by a tangle of pubic
hair, left in place at Dave's suggestion to simulate her "innocence and
virginity". He often wanted her shaved, but this was a rare exception. Then,
unceremoniously, he lowered his pants, took out his cock, and buried it in her.
"You're mine tonight, aren't you?" he growled. He had stopped with the entire
length of his cock inside her. I heard her whimper a quiet, "Yes." He pulled
back, then entered her again firmly. "You want my cock all night, don't
you?" Another "Yes" from her. "You want me to show your husband how to make his
new wife cum on her wedding night, don't you?" "Yes," I heard her answer. He
kept it up, making her tell him between strokes how much she wanted him, making
her say the words, that she wanted a man other than her husband to be the first
to take her virginity.
Finally, after only a few preliminary strokes, he told her to get up, that he
was "finished with her for now". She gathered her dress and lowered it, then
got up off the bed. She was a little flushed and bewildered, but probably had
anticipated what he would do by now. Dave loved to get her worked up, then
leave her hanging. Much later, by the time he would finally make her cum, she
would be completely out of control, a wild woman who would do anything for her
long-awaited orgasm. Deprivation followed by reward. It was what he did best.
"You'll always remember this -," he told me, "watching me deflower your sweet
little virgin wife. Every time you make love to her you'll think of my cock
entering her, and how the first man to take her will always be special to her.
In fact, it's such a special service I've provided, I think you should thank
me."
"Thank you," I told him, in my best faux-humiliated voice.
"Well, what are you thanking me for?"
"Thank you for deflowering my new wife," I said.
"You're very welcome - I'll come back and fuck her any time she wants from now
on - any time you're just not up to satisfying her. That's fine with you, isn't
it, L?"
She did her best to hesitate, to pretend to protect my male ego before finally
telling him, "Yes - if my husband can't satisfy me, you can have me, whenever
you want me."
He told her to change for dinner, and told me to go to the other room. "You've
seen enough for now," he said. I left the bedroom, turned the corner into the
remaining room of the suite, and took a seat on the sofa. I couldn't hear them
speak, just the movement and rustling sounds of L getting out of her wedding
dress and into something more presentable for dinner. I knew he was watching
her, probably even unzipping the wedding dress and helping her out of it. Was
he touching her? Stroking her belly or ass as she bared herself in front of
him? Was he behaving as any new groom might, cupping her breasts, kissing her
and holding her close when she was finally naked? Not knowing, not seeing, was
torture.
Finally he told me I could return to the bedroom. They were standing side-by-
side, holding hands. L wore her little black dress, the same one she wore when
we went to dinner with Dave months ago. She had fixed her hair and makeup, and
she was stunning. They really did look like a couple, maybe even a new husband
and wife. He stood beside her, confident and protective, she with a look that
showed she loved "confident and protective". Any resistance she was supposed to
display had vanished very quickly.
"Did you know your new wife would be so easy?" he asked me. "Just look at her
face. Who do you think she wants to share her bed with tonight, me or you?"
L looked at me, then lowered her eyes to the floor, finally showing some display
of shame, but it wasn't very convincing. I could tell she wanted him.
"You," I told him, trying to sound disappointed. "I guess she wants you."
"There's no guessing about it," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen an
easier woman. Right now, she wants to fuck me more than anything. She's
standing here beside me in her little black dress, soaked between her legs,
enough to drench her panties, if she was wearing any. She's dripping wet
because she wants a fuck she'll remember on her wedding night, a fuck she'll
think about every time you put your hands on her, every time you make love to
her in your bed."
My God, the scene was convincing. I truly believed he did own her at that
moment. And L wouldn't look at me. I truly believed she was genuinely at
least a little embarrassed, even if part of it was role-playing. Her small hand
was engulfed in his, clutching it instinctively, clinging to him just as she
clung to the hope he would soon give her what she wanted so she wouldn't have
to wait in a constant state of heat. She kept looking at the floor, her head
down, her hair swept forward half-covering her face, hiding her eyes from me.
Her body had already surrendered to him, helplessly, involuntarily.
"We're going to dinner," he told me. "You can watch us from another table, but
keep your distance. I'm going to make your wife wait for me to fuck her. She'll
sit across from me, her wet little pussy so hungry for my cock while I tell her
what I plan to do to her tonight. You'll probably be hard just imagining what
I'm telling her, because you want me to be the first to take her in your
marital bed, don't you? You need a real man to give her a honeymoon fucking
that will put a smile on her face for years to come, don't you?"
I waited for her to look up at me, then asked her, "Is that what you want?" She
eyed me very seriously, then answered, "I'm sorry, but I do."
Again, it was hard to tell whether she was acting or serious. She stood so
close to him, her hand still clasped so tightly in his.
"In fact, it's what you both want, isn't it?" he said to me. I managed to utter
a quiet "yes". Strangely, it was what we both wanted - as a fantasy. He had given
it life, with words and sight and his uncanny skill for enveloping L in a fog of
compliance and willful infidelity. Together they led me along, intoxicated by the
wafting remains of his magic, complicit and helpless to disrupt it.
He led her to the door, ushering her through it, then closed it behind them. I
gave them five minutes, then took the elevator to the dining room. He was right,
as usual. I was hard just thinking of them together.
-
Don Jetman
- Player
- Posts: 340
- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
Watching them through dinner was torture, but sweet torture. She looked so
"owned", sitting quietly across from him, nodding as he did the talking, no
doubt laying out the details of what he would do to her. I kept thinking how
envious I would be if she was someone else's wife, her little dress hiked up
far enough to show a scandalous amount of thigh, her nipples swollen to hard
little points so easily seen through the thin fabric of the dress.
From where I sat I could watch the reaction of others around them. A few guys
were constantly stealing quick looks at her, but by far the most interesting
was an older man, about 65 I guessed, seated nearby with his wife. He kept
staring at L's legs, seemingly unconcerned that she, or his wife, would notice.
His wife must have seen this, but said nothing, ignoring his obvious attempts
to get a better look up L's dress between her legs. From his line of sight, he
must have had quite a view. I knew she wasn't wearing panties, and the tiny
dress couldn't possibly have completely hidden her crotch from him. I just knew
he was freely enjoying my wife's pussy, even if only in his imagination. That
my wife felt so free to use her body to arouse every man in the room, that they
were looking and more than likely imagining what it would be like to fuck her,
that Dave controlled it all and I was completely helpless to do a thing about
it, had my head swimming and my cock hard as granite.
L gazed at Dave as though in a trance as he spoke to her, her submission easily
mistaken by an outsider for an adoring wife's anxious yearning for her new
husband. It was bittersweet, having to watch her body respond to him, seeing
her eyes truly and desperately beg him to put his cock in her.
He bought her lobster, her favorite. L used to tell me that the taste of it,
how it melted in her mouth, mixed with the rich liquid butter, made her warm
all over and tingle between her legs. I knew first-hand what it did to her on
so many special occasions. She knew I was watching. I wondered if she knew what
I was thinking, and whether I would remember the effect it had on her. The way
she sucked slowly on the sweet white meat, all the while looking adoringly into
his eyes, told me she did. It was the kind of teasing, or torturing, she had
grown to perfect and enjoy.
I can't begin to explain how excited I was during dinner. Although she looked
absolutely ravishing, it was the psychological effect of seeing her so
comfortable with him, and so genuinely eager to please him. Her body language,
the little tilt of her head when she answered him, the constant shifting of her
legs under the table as she took in each of his words as though it was foreplay
- all of it showed she was ready for him, that she was clearly his in the midst
of all those people. I had seen her taken by Dave in so many positions. I had
heard her beg him for sex, and moan loudly as she came with him inside her. But
this was more haunting, strangely electric with eroticism. My wife, so hungry
for another man, so lost in her need for him in a public place that no one
would have ever guessed her husband sat just across the room with a hard-on,
watching her flirt with the man who would later take her upstairs and fuck her
mercilessly. Somehow I knew it was one of those moments I would always
remember.
I was careful to finish my meal first and to pay quickly, knowing I'd want to
follow them when they left together. I sat and nursed my coffee, waiting,
waiting - it seemed like a lifetime. When they left he put his hand on the
small of her back, a move I knew he used to signify ownership. It was his
trademark, his message to me that now he considered her completely his. Then I
watched his hand slip lower over her ass.
I rode the elevator up to our room with them. He hadn't told me I couldn't, so
I edged through the doors at the last minute, just before they closed. They
both stared at me as he played with her neck from behind. Eventually her eyes
closed, her head rolling in slow circles as his hands massaged her neck and
shoulders. He lowered his hands down along her arms, onto her hips, then behind
her, lower, both palms pressing softly into her ass until her hips tilted and
swayed voluntarily under his touch. Her dress rose slightly, revealing most of
the front of her bare thighs, until it was stretched tightly across the firm
little mound between her legs. His hands were moving under her dress from
behind. I imagined how very wet she must be, how warm and slippery she must
have felt to him as his fingers dipped into the honey that must be pouring from
her.
"You love watching me do this to her, don't you?" he asked me. He wanted me to
admit it, to let L know I had surrendered her.
"Yes, I do," I told him.
"And you want me to fuck your little bride?" he continued. L gasped while he
worked between her legs. I told him I did.
"owned", sitting quietly across from him, nodding as he did the talking, no
doubt laying out the details of what he would do to her. I kept thinking how
envious I would be if she was someone else's wife, her little dress hiked up
far enough to show a scandalous amount of thigh, her nipples swollen to hard
little points so easily seen through the thin fabric of the dress.
From where I sat I could watch the reaction of others around them. A few guys
were constantly stealing quick looks at her, but by far the most interesting
was an older man, about 65 I guessed, seated nearby with his wife. He kept
staring at L's legs, seemingly unconcerned that she, or his wife, would notice.
His wife must have seen this, but said nothing, ignoring his obvious attempts
to get a better look up L's dress between her legs. From his line of sight, he
must have had quite a view. I knew she wasn't wearing panties, and the tiny
dress couldn't possibly have completely hidden her crotch from him. I just knew
he was freely enjoying my wife's pussy, even if only in his imagination. That
my wife felt so free to use her body to arouse every man in the room, that they
were looking and more than likely imagining what it would be like to fuck her,
that Dave controlled it all and I was completely helpless to do a thing about
it, had my head swimming and my cock hard as granite.
L gazed at Dave as though in a trance as he spoke to her, her submission easily
mistaken by an outsider for an adoring wife's anxious yearning for her new
husband. It was bittersweet, having to watch her body respond to him, seeing
her eyes truly and desperately beg him to put his cock in her.
He bought her lobster, her favorite. L used to tell me that the taste of it,
how it melted in her mouth, mixed with the rich liquid butter, made her warm
all over and tingle between her legs. I knew first-hand what it did to her on
so many special occasions. She knew I was watching. I wondered if she knew what
I was thinking, and whether I would remember the effect it had on her. The way
she sucked slowly on the sweet white meat, all the while looking adoringly into
his eyes, told me she did. It was the kind of teasing, or torturing, she had
grown to perfect and enjoy.
I can't begin to explain how excited I was during dinner. Although she looked
absolutely ravishing, it was the psychological effect of seeing her so
comfortable with him, and so genuinely eager to please him. Her body language,
the little tilt of her head when she answered him, the constant shifting of her
legs under the table as she took in each of his words as though it was foreplay
- all of it showed she was ready for him, that she was clearly his in the midst
of all those people. I had seen her taken by Dave in so many positions. I had
heard her beg him for sex, and moan loudly as she came with him inside her. But
this was more haunting, strangely electric with eroticism. My wife, so hungry
for another man, so lost in her need for him in a public place that no one
would have ever guessed her husband sat just across the room with a hard-on,
watching her flirt with the man who would later take her upstairs and fuck her
mercilessly. Somehow I knew it was one of those moments I would always
remember.
I was careful to finish my meal first and to pay quickly, knowing I'd want to
follow them when they left together. I sat and nursed my coffee, waiting,
waiting - it seemed like a lifetime. When they left he put his hand on the
small of her back, a move I knew he used to signify ownership. It was his
trademark, his message to me that now he considered her completely his. Then I
watched his hand slip lower over her ass.
I rode the elevator up to our room with them. He hadn't told me I couldn't, so
I edged through the doors at the last minute, just before they closed. They
both stared at me as he played with her neck from behind. Eventually her eyes
closed, her head rolling in slow circles as his hands massaged her neck and
shoulders. He lowered his hands down along her arms, onto her hips, then behind
her, lower, both palms pressing softly into her ass until her hips tilted and
swayed voluntarily under his touch. Her dress rose slightly, revealing most of
the front of her bare thighs, until it was stretched tightly across the firm
little mound between her legs. His hands were moving under her dress from
behind. I imagined how very wet she must be, how warm and slippery she must
have felt to him as his fingers dipped into the honey that must be pouring from
her.
"You love watching me do this to her, don't you?" he asked me. He wanted me to
admit it, to let L know I had surrendered her.
"Yes, I do," I told him.
"And you want me to fuck your little bride?" he continued. L gasped while he
worked between her legs. I told him I did.
-
Don Jetman
- Player
- Posts: 340
- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
Back in our suite, the night was more L's than mine. Dave sat back in one of
the plush chairs by the bed and ordered her to strip, slowly. She stood in
front of him and did it, peeling the dress down over her body, then stepping
out of it, dropping it seductively to the floor. She was naked, except for her
black heels, but her body language was almost bold. She thrust her breasts at
him and opened her legs. The heat seemed to pour from her body. But he had
other plans for her.
He had her go to the other side of the bed, put her hands up against the wall,
and stretch, as though she was tied there.
"Close your eyes," he told her. "You're helpless there, naked, with your wrists
tied tightly above your head. I could tie you, blindfold you, then bring in ten
men from the bar downstairs. I could sit here and watch them take you, one by
one. You'd never see their faces. You'd only feel their cocks inside you,
moving in and out, then pounding you just before they come."
He paused, waiting for her to visualize the scene, waiting for her to put
herself into this new fantasy.
"You'd do them all, wouldn't you? You'd let them have you, all ten of them. And
you'd want more, wouldn't you?"
I stared at her body, her arms stretched overhead, her nipples rigid and
puckered. She did want them, all ten. At least in her fantasy. She answered him
in a small, helpless voice.
"Yes - I want them, all of them."
He sat and watched her as she let herself into his world. I wondered what she
was thinking, what outrageous acts were unfolding in her mind. Days later, she
told me that she was letting those ten men have her, but that being ordered to
do so by Dave was the only way she could imagine going through with it.
He got up and went to her, taking a fistful of her hair at the back of her
head. He pulled her head back, until she was forced to look up at the ceiling.
He put his other hand between her legs and guided her to the adjacent wall
where he forced her against it. L whimpered a little. I wondered if she was
afraid, or if she let a whimper escape because she couldn't control the
excitement of something so new and daring. He had never been this physical with
her before. He held her there against the wall, working his hand between her
legs from behind, making her crazy as she squirmed and gasped.
Then came the real shock.
"You didn't think I'd let your husband be the first to take you there either,
did you?" he growled. "You like it up the ass, don't you? Tell your husband
something even he didn't know. Tell him you like it."
She hesitated, but then told me, with her face away from me against the wall -
"I like it." She squirmed a little more as he worked his finger in and out of
her ass. I was astonished. We had tried anal sex a few times, but L hated it,
so we let it go. It wasn't a big deal to me, so I didn't think any more about
it. Now, although it was just his finger, she was panting and gasping in heat.
"You don't just want those men from the bar to fuck your cunt, do you? You want
them to fuck your ass as well. Don't you?"
L wouldn't answer, possibly because she feared he might actually invite the men
up to our suite. I knew Dave could be unpredictable, but never that crude
without L's buy-in. L, on the other hand, was so lost in her fantasy she may
also have lost a sense of reality. He kept growling at her, "Don't you? Don't
you? DON'T YOU?"
Finally, she whimpered, "Please don't. Please don't let them do that to me.
I'll do anything you want. But not that. Please, not that." He chuckled, backed
away from her and told her, "Someday, someday you will. Once you've had my
finger up your ass, you won't be able to stop thinking about it. You'll want a
cock there eventually. When you're ready, you'll let me know. You'll beg me for
it."
He walked away from her after ordering her to stay against the wall. Ignoring
me completely, he went to a chair across the room, sat, and watched her
continue to squirm in heat, her arms still stretched over her head, her pale
body and pretty face pressed tightly against the wall, waiting for his next
command. L wouldn't do this, she wouldn't be manhandled and controlled like
this unless she wanted it very badly. I could see she truly loved this. I was
absolutely sure of it.
He ordered her to get on her hands and knees and crawl to him, then to open his
pants and play with his cock. She didn't object or hesitate. I watched as she
crawled across the carpet, then pushed his legs apart and opened his pants. L
has repeatedly told me that his penis isn't "that much different" than mine.
But we both know he's thicker, and seeing her small hands and delicate fingers
hold him, then gently caress him until he's hard as a rock always drives home
the difference. She was just so damned intent, celebrating his erection as her
eyes stayed fixed on it. I thought to myself, "She's making him as big as she
can, teasing him. No matter what she says, she wants him hard and very thick
when he fucks her."
He let her go on for a while, until I could see he was having trouble holding
back. She had both hands around his shaft, sliding up and down, milking and
pulling at him, as though she was determined to make him cum.
"Did you bring something sexy to wear?" he asked her. "Did you bring something
that will make an innocent wife look like a whore for her honeymoon?" She
admitted she had. He told her to put it on, then pose for him.
She went to the bathroom, then returned wearing a long black nightgown. At
first it seemed more elegant than sexy, but as she went to him and posed, I
remembered it immediately. I had given it to her last Christmas, and she had
posed for me that night. The gown was almost transparent, with a lacy pattern
along the neckline. She hadn't used the strip of black lace that fastened it at
the waist, so the gown parted and opened in front, baring a stretch of pale
flesh from her breasts to her bare feet as she walked. It showed everything -
her ripe breasts and pouting nipples, her smooth belly, the thick patch of
chestnut hair between her legs, and those slim thighs that never ceased to
drive me crazy. I remembered the night we had after she last posed for me
in it. I wanted her, badly.
"Sit over there," he ordered. She went to the large wicker chair and sat. "Pull
it up. To your waist. And spread your legs. Show me your pussy," he told her.
Slowly, she hiked the gown up along her legs, bunching it in her lap. Now
staring deeply into his eyes, she put her feet up on the matching footstool and
opened her legs, shamelessly exposing every detail of her sex. My god, she was
wet. Her pussy seemed twice its normal size, swollen, red, and gaping open
obscenely.
"Lower the top," he ordered. "I want to see your tits."
She slid the straps over her shoulders, and with the tips of her fingers,
slowly drew the top down until her bare breasts jutted forward. She was so
damned beautiful. And it was all for him. She just kept looking at him
intensely, stretching a little, opening her legs to him so seductively, playing
with the lowered straps with her fingertips as though she wanted to show how
impatient she was to get naked for him. He made her wait as he watched her.
There were some long moments when no one made a sound. He watched, and she put
herself on display. Time seemed to stand still.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked her.
She nodded.
"Do you want to give your first married orgasm to me or your husband?"
She turned her head to look at me, giving me an expression that was half
apology, half lust. Then she looked back at him.
"You - I'll give it to you," she told him.
At that moment, it was as if she had reached inside me and set fire to every
nerve in my body. Her words, and the soft, yielding way she said them, struck
at the very core of my fantasies. I knew she had probably rehearsed her answer
to him, but I also knew she meant every word. My bride was giving herself to
him on our wedding day, unashamed, consumed with lust, not caring I witnessed
her submission to him, to his cock, and to his seed that might sire our
first-born. I considered the permanence of it all back in the day - the husband's
unforgettable imaginings of his wife's wedding night orgasms with her king, and
the certainty she'd be with child the morning after. I was able to put myself in
the husband's place, if only for a few seconds here and there. It was haunting,
and outrageously exciting.
I stood at a distance as he stripped, turned out the lights, and led her to
bed. I saw them hold each other under the sheets, hands moving over each
others' bodies, mouths glued together in long kisses that seemed to end only
when they needed to come up for air.
When he rolled on top of her, settled in between her legs, and began to thrust,
she groaned. Although it was fairly dark and they were under the sheet, I could
see his butt rise, then push forward the first time, followed immediately by
her groan. She must have been on fire, desperate for him to enter her. He
fucked her for over half an hour, stopping, making her beg for more, then
starting again. I stood by the side of the bed and watched in silence,
fascinated by how quickly and completely she gave herself to him. She came with
a long, low moan, as she usually did with him. Not long after, he grunted in
the familiar rhythm that told me he was emptying himself inside her.
Afterwards, both still playing their parts, he told her, "Now you know what
it's like to be taken by a man who can give you what you need. Every time you
make love to your husband, you will think of me, the first man who entered your
body, the first man to put his seed in you." She told him, "Yes, I will, I
promise."
I wondered how many times L thought of Dave when we made love, and how his
words might be truer than I imagined. But then, lately, L had not been shy
about telling me her fantasies, even during sex. In truth, these days she was
more likely to fantasize about a young construction worker or office intern. I
knew because she seemed to delight in telling me, and I loved to listen.
I listened for a while, watching the outline of their bodies under the sheets.
Neither of them said a word, but I could see L's hand moving over his chest and
stomach. Before long she stopped and was very still, apparently fast asleep.
I was so proud of her, proud that she was able to play the game so well, and
proud that she felt comfortable enough to give herself to him so completely,
without the slightest inhibition. She had let me know days ago how much she
craved Dave's body, but watching her hold him so urgently between her legs and
hearing her moans and pleadings as he used her on what was supposed to be our
honeymoon was undeniable proof that she felt completely free to give herself to
another man in a fantasy so closely tied to something as sacred as our wedding
night. In the past it was unthinkable that L would pretend to betray me on this
special night, that she would let another man take her virginity (even as role
play), that she would not only allow, but encourage him to defile her wedding
dress as a whorish costume worn by a wife driven by an uncontrollable thirst
for sex. Although the idea for the game was mine, I was no longer certain
whether the driving forces within the game were more mine or hers.
When it was clear that he was done with her, I left them and stretched out on
the leather sofa in the adjoining room. It was almost impossible to sleep. I
kept listening for a quiet word from one of them, or even a rustling sheet. My
wife was sleeping with another man for the first time in her life. Granted, she
had sex with him many times, but this was different. She was spending the night
in his arms, available to him for the entire night. Now he would own her a
little more, taking her for his own even as she slept beside him. To my
surprise, this time I felt absolutely no angst or possessiveness at all, only
excitement.
I dozed off and on, but I never really got much sleep. The sofa was more for
decoration than comfort, and the slightest noise startled me, I suppose because
I hoped to catch them making the most of that big bed. This time I wanted him to
use her repeatedly, to have sex with her as many times as possible throughout the
night. I wanted something new for L, a record amount of sex and orgasms, an
all-night marathon that would leave her dazed and drained the next day. If only
I could see that look on her face, the trance-like stare from little sleep and
constant sex. If only I could see her naked just after getting out of his bed,
the petite, firm body I knew so well covered with his semen, her pubic hair matted
with it, her hair glued together in strands that hung along the sides of her
pretty face where his cum dried in small crusty patches. I wanted her to slut
for him in the worst way. And then I wanted her to come to me and tell me how much
she loved it as she climbed on top of me, took me inside her, and milked me dry.
About 5:30 AM I heard noises in the other room and quietly went to investigate.
There was enough light to see that now the sheet was rumpled at the foot of
the bed, and that Dave lay between her legs again, his ass humping frantically,
his body making slapping sounds as he plowed deeply into her. L's bare legs
were wrapped around his back, pulling him into her while her hips bucked
desperately against him. I could just make out her tiny whispers in the darkness.
"Please....please....yesss....please....yesss...."
Dave said nothing. He just kept pounding, fast and hard, almost brutally. The
harder he slammed into her, the more L encouraged him with her whispers. I
stood there, only ten feet from the bed, watching, listening, and masturbating,
until finally I came with an audible groan. Either they didn't notice, or
didn't care, because he went on for another ten minutes before L released her
recognizable long orgasmic moan. He came almost immediately, grunting in rhythm
with his thrusts. Afterwards - silence, as they both fell back to sleep. I
returned to my sofa and slept soundly for the first time that night.
the plush chairs by the bed and ordered her to strip, slowly. She stood in
front of him and did it, peeling the dress down over her body, then stepping
out of it, dropping it seductively to the floor. She was naked, except for her
black heels, but her body language was almost bold. She thrust her breasts at
him and opened her legs. The heat seemed to pour from her body. But he had
other plans for her.
He had her go to the other side of the bed, put her hands up against the wall,
and stretch, as though she was tied there.
"Close your eyes," he told her. "You're helpless there, naked, with your wrists
tied tightly above your head. I could tie you, blindfold you, then bring in ten
men from the bar downstairs. I could sit here and watch them take you, one by
one. You'd never see their faces. You'd only feel their cocks inside you,
moving in and out, then pounding you just before they come."
He paused, waiting for her to visualize the scene, waiting for her to put
herself into this new fantasy.
"You'd do them all, wouldn't you? You'd let them have you, all ten of them. And
you'd want more, wouldn't you?"
I stared at her body, her arms stretched overhead, her nipples rigid and
puckered. She did want them, all ten. At least in her fantasy. She answered him
in a small, helpless voice.
"Yes - I want them, all of them."
He sat and watched her as she let herself into his world. I wondered what she
was thinking, what outrageous acts were unfolding in her mind. Days later, she
told me that she was letting those ten men have her, but that being ordered to
do so by Dave was the only way she could imagine going through with it.
He got up and went to her, taking a fistful of her hair at the back of her
head. He pulled her head back, until she was forced to look up at the ceiling.
He put his other hand between her legs and guided her to the adjacent wall
where he forced her against it. L whimpered a little. I wondered if she was
afraid, or if she let a whimper escape because she couldn't control the
excitement of something so new and daring. He had never been this physical with
her before. He held her there against the wall, working his hand between her
legs from behind, making her crazy as she squirmed and gasped.
Then came the real shock.
"You didn't think I'd let your husband be the first to take you there either,
did you?" he growled. "You like it up the ass, don't you? Tell your husband
something even he didn't know. Tell him you like it."
She hesitated, but then told me, with her face away from me against the wall -
"I like it." She squirmed a little more as he worked his finger in and out of
her ass. I was astonished. We had tried anal sex a few times, but L hated it,
so we let it go. It wasn't a big deal to me, so I didn't think any more about
it. Now, although it was just his finger, she was panting and gasping in heat.
"You don't just want those men from the bar to fuck your cunt, do you? You want
them to fuck your ass as well. Don't you?"
L wouldn't answer, possibly because she feared he might actually invite the men
up to our suite. I knew Dave could be unpredictable, but never that crude
without L's buy-in. L, on the other hand, was so lost in her fantasy she may
also have lost a sense of reality. He kept growling at her, "Don't you? Don't
you? DON'T YOU?"
Finally, she whimpered, "Please don't. Please don't let them do that to me.
I'll do anything you want. But not that. Please, not that." He chuckled, backed
away from her and told her, "Someday, someday you will. Once you've had my
finger up your ass, you won't be able to stop thinking about it. You'll want a
cock there eventually. When you're ready, you'll let me know. You'll beg me for
it."
He walked away from her after ordering her to stay against the wall. Ignoring
me completely, he went to a chair across the room, sat, and watched her
continue to squirm in heat, her arms still stretched over her head, her pale
body and pretty face pressed tightly against the wall, waiting for his next
command. L wouldn't do this, she wouldn't be manhandled and controlled like
this unless she wanted it very badly. I could see she truly loved this. I was
absolutely sure of it.
He ordered her to get on her hands and knees and crawl to him, then to open his
pants and play with his cock. She didn't object or hesitate. I watched as she
crawled across the carpet, then pushed his legs apart and opened his pants. L
has repeatedly told me that his penis isn't "that much different" than mine.
But we both know he's thicker, and seeing her small hands and delicate fingers
hold him, then gently caress him until he's hard as a rock always drives home
the difference. She was just so damned intent, celebrating his erection as her
eyes stayed fixed on it. I thought to myself, "She's making him as big as she
can, teasing him. No matter what she says, she wants him hard and very thick
when he fucks her."
He let her go on for a while, until I could see he was having trouble holding
back. She had both hands around his shaft, sliding up and down, milking and
pulling at him, as though she was determined to make him cum.
"Did you bring something sexy to wear?" he asked her. "Did you bring something
that will make an innocent wife look like a whore for her honeymoon?" She
admitted she had. He told her to put it on, then pose for him.
She went to the bathroom, then returned wearing a long black nightgown. At
first it seemed more elegant than sexy, but as she went to him and posed, I
remembered it immediately. I had given it to her last Christmas, and she had
posed for me that night. The gown was almost transparent, with a lacy pattern
along the neckline. She hadn't used the strip of black lace that fastened it at
the waist, so the gown parted and opened in front, baring a stretch of pale
flesh from her breasts to her bare feet as she walked. It showed everything -
her ripe breasts and pouting nipples, her smooth belly, the thick patch of
chestnut hair between her legs, and those slim thighs that never ceased to
drive me crazy. I remembered the night we had after she last posed for me
in it. I wanted her, badly.
"Sit over there," he ordered. She went to the large wicker chair and sat. "Pull
it up. To your waist. And spread your legs. Show me your pussy," he told her.
Slowly, she hiked the gown up along her legs, bunching it in her lap. Now
staring deeply into his eyes, she put her feet up on the matching footstool and
opened her legs, shamelessly exposing every detail of her sex. My god, she was
wet. Her pussy seemed twice its normal size, swollen, red, and gaping open
obscenely.
"Lower the top," he ordered. "I want to see your tits."
She slid the straps over her shoulders, and with the tips of her fingers,
slowly drew the top down until her bare breasts jutted forward. She was so
damned beautiful. And it was all for him. She just kept looking at him
intensely, stretching a little, opening her legs to him so seductively, playing
with the lowered straps with her fingertips as though she wanted to show how
impatient she was to get naked for him. He made her wait as he watched her.
There were some long moments when no one made a sound. He watched, and she put
herself on display. Time seemed to stand still.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked her.
She nodded.
"Do you want to give your first married orgasm to me or your husband?"
She turned her head to look at me, giving me an expression that was half
apology, half lust. Then she looked back at him.
"You - I'll give it to you," she told him.
At that moment, it was as if she had reached inside me and set fire to every
nerve in my body. Her words, and the soft, yielding way she said them, struck
at the very core of my fantasies. I knew she had probably rehearsed her answer
to him, but I also knew she meant every word. My bride was giving herself to
him on our wedding day, unashamed, consumed with lust, not caring I witnessed
her submission to him, to his cock, and to his seed that might sire our
first-born. I considered the permanence of it all back in the day - the husband's
unforgettable imaginings of his wife's wedding night orgasms with her king, and
the certainty she'd be with child the morning after. I was able to put myself in
the husband's place, if only for a few seconds here and there. It was haunting,
and outrageously exciting.
I stood at a distance as he stripped, turned out the lights, and led her to
bed. I saw them hold each other under the sheets, hands moving over each
others' bodies, mouths glued together in long kisses that seemed to end only
when they needed to come up for air.
When he rolled on top of her, settled in between her legs, and began to thrust,
she groaned. Although it was fairly dark and they were under the sheet, I could
see his butt rise, then push forward the first time, followed immediately by
her groan. She must have been on fire, desperate for him to enter her. He
fucked her for over half an hour, stopping, making her beg for more, then
starting again. I stood by the side of the bed and watched in silence,
fascinated by how quickly and completely she gave herself to him. She came with
a long, low moan, as she usually did with him. Not long after, he grunted in
the familiar rhythm that told me he was emptying himself inside her.
Afterwards, both still playing their parts, he told her, "Now you know what
it's like to be taken by a man who can give you what you need. Every time you
make love to your husband, you will think of me, the first man who entered your
body, the first man to put his seed in you." She told him, "Yes, I will, I
promise."
I wondered how many times L thought of Dave when we made love, and how his
words might be truer than I imagined. But then, lately, L had not been shy
about telling me her fantasies, even during sex. In truth, these days she was
more likely to fantasize about a young construction worker or office intern. I
knew because she seemed to delight in telling me, and I loved to listen.
I listened for a while, watching the outline of their bodies under the sheets.
Neither of them said a word, but I could see L's hand moving over his chest and
stomach. Before long she stopped and was very still, apparently fast asleep.
I was so proud of her, proud that she was able to play the game so well, and
proud that she felt comfortable enough to give herself to him so completely,
without the slightest inhibition. She had let me know days ago how much she
craved Dave's body, but watching her hold him so urgently between her legs and
hearing her moans and pleadings as he used her on what was supposed to be our
honeymoon was undeniable proof that she felt completely free to give herself to
another man in a fantasy so closely tied to something as sacred as our wedding
night. In the past it was unthinkable that L would pretend to betray me on this
special night, that she would let another man take her virginity (even as role
play), that she would not only allow, but encourage him to defile her wedding
dress as a whorish costume worn by a wife driven by an uncontrollable thirst
for sex. Although the idea for the game was mine, I was no longer certain
whether the driving forces within the game were more mine or hers.
When it was clear that he was done with her, I left them and stretched out on
the leather sofa in the adjoining room. It was almost impossible to sleep. I
kept listening for a quiet word from one of them, or even a rustling sheet. My
wife was sleeping with another man for the first time in her life. Granted, she
had sex with him many times, but this was different. She was spending the night
in his arms, available to him for the entire night. Now he would own her a
little more, taking her for his own even as she slept beside him. To my
surprise, this time I felt absolutely no angst or possessiveness at all, only
excitement.
I dozed off and on, but I never really got much sleep. The sofa was more for
decoration than comfort, and the slightest noise startled me, I suppose because
I hoped to catch them making the most of that big bed. This time I wanted him to
use her repeatedly, to have sex with her as many times as possible throughout the
night. I wanted something new for L, a record amount of sex and orgasms, an
all-night marathon that would leave her dazed and drained the next day. If only
I could see that look on her face, the trance-like stare from little sleep and
constant sex. If only I could see her naked just after getting out of his bed,
the petite, firm body I knew so well covered with his semen, her pubic hair matted
with it, her hair glued together in strands that hung along the sides of her
pretty face where his cum dried in small crusty patches. I wanted her to slut
for him in the worst way. And then I wanted her to come to me and tell me how much
she loved it as she climbed on top of me, took me inside her, and milked me dry.
About 5:30 AM I heard noises in the other room and quietly went to investigate.
There was enough light to see that now the sheet was rumpled at the foot of
the bed, and that Dave lay between her legs again, his ass humping frantically,
his body making slapping sounds as he plowed deeply into her. L's bare legs
were wrapped around his back, pulling him into her while her hips bucked
desperately against him. I could just make out her tiny whispers in the darkness.
"Please....please....yesss....please....yesss...."
Dave said nothing. He just kept pounding, fast and hard, almost brutally. The
harder he slammed into her, the more L encouraged him with her whispers. I
stood there, only ten feet from the bed, watching, listening, and masturbating,
until finally I came with an audible groan. Either they didn't notice, or
didn't care, because he went on for another ten minutes before L released her
recognizable long orgasmic moan. He came almost immediately, grunting in rhythm
with his thrusts. Afterwards - silence, as they both fell back to sleep. I
returned to my sofa and slept soundly for the first time that night.
-
Don Jetman
- Player
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- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
We all slept late, then ordered breakfast from room service. They sat on the
leather sofa as they ate, both dressed in heavy, white robes with the hotel
insignia. I sat in the wicker chair across from them, the very same chair where
L had spread her legs for him the night before, brazenly offering him her body
so unlike a blushing bride. I wondered what the waiter thought when he delivered
our breakfast so close to noon - L and Dave still in their robes, and me in my
shorts and T-shirt, the three of us looking like we had had a very rough night
in the single king-size bed. And had he noticed the dried semen in L's hair?
Gulp.
I eyed them quietly while I inhaled my scrambled eggs and bacon. L looked
terribly disheveled, but very content and satisfied. She hadn't showered yet,
and I imagined what her body must look like under the robe, her soft skin
coated in his sweat and semen. L was always horny in the morning. Was she
thinking of sex? Truthfully, I couldn't wait for Dave to leave so I could take
her in the same bed that she and Dave had used all night. He must have read my
mind.
"Would you like to show your husband what you need from a man?" he asked her.
She gave me a devilish grin, then told him, "Yes, I think he should know." They
got up and went to the bed, stripped off their robes, and fucked in front of
me. I stood at the foot of the bed and watched as he slid between L's legs and
entered her. She loves sex in the morning, and this morning was no exception.
Their sex was fast and furious, with no tenderness, only animal-like noises and
a desperate race for their mutual orgasms. This time I watched them in broad
daylight as L clamped her legs around him like a vise and thrust her hips up to
meet him. She came long and hard. I love to watch her face - her eyes close,
her neck arches back, and her chin rises a little just before she releases that
long moan that gets louder and louder as she rides out her orgasm. It's the
most beautiful sight I've ever seen. And she gave me her best that morning, or
rather, gave him her best.
In the end, after Dave left us, I did have my turn. As a surprise, I had
reserved the suite for an extra night. We ate lobster in the dining room, and
fucked into the wee hours of the next morning. We talked about her
submissiveness, and how I loved to watch her. We talked about Dave's cock, and
she finally admitted that it did feel bigger than mine, but "just a little".
But most importantly, we talked, about everything, and held nothing back. The
following night, at home in our bed, she snuggled beside me in her little
flowered nightgown, stroked my chest with her fingers, and drifted off to a
contented sleep. I buried my face in her freshly washed hair and wondered where
our next adventure would take us.
leather sofa as they ate, both dressed in heavy, white robes with the hotel
insignia. I sat in the wicker chair across from them, the very same chair where
L had spread her legs for him the night before, brazenly offering him her body
so unlike a blushing bride. I wondered what the waiter thought when he delivered
our breakfast so close to noon - L and Dave still in their robes, and me in my
shorts and T-shirt, the three of us looking like we had had a very rough night
in the single king-size bed. And had he noticed the dried semen in L's hair?
Gulp.
I eyed them quietly while I inhaled my scrambled eggs and bacon. L looked
terribly disheveled, but very content and satisfied. She hadn't showered yet,
and I imagined what her body must look like under the robe, her soft skin
coated in his sweat and semen. L was always horny in the morning. Was she
thinking of sex? Truthfully, I couldn't wait for Dave to leave so I could take
her in the same bed that she and Dave had used all night. He must have read my
mind.
"Would you like to show your husband what you need from a man?" he asked her.
She gave me a devilish grin, then told him, "Yes, I think he should know." They
got up and went to the bed, stripped off their robes, and fucked in front of
me. I stood at the foot of the bed and watched as he slid between L's legs and
entered her. She loves sex in the morning, and this morning was no exception.
Their sex was fast and furious, with no tenderness, only animal-like noises and
a desperate race for their mutual orgasms. This time I watched them in broad
daylight as L clamped her legs around him like a vise and thrust her hips up to
meet him. She came long and hard. I love to watch her face - her eyes close,
her neck arches back, and her chin rises a little just before she releases that
long moan that gets louder and louder as she rides out her orgasm. It's the
most beautiful sight I've ever seen. And she gave me her best that morning, or
rather, gave him her best.
In the end, after Dave left us, I did have my turn. As a surprise, I had
reserved the suite for an extra night. We ate lobster in the dining room, and
fucked into the wee hours of the next morning. We talked about her
submissiveness, and how I loved to watch her. We talked about Dave's cock, and
she finally admitted that it did feel bigger than mine, but "just a little".
But most importantly, we talked, about everything, and held nothing back. The
following night, at home in our bed, she snuggled beside me in her little
flowered nightgown, stroked my chest with her fingers, and drifted off to a
contented sleep. I buried my face in her freshly washed hair and wondered where
our next adventure would take us.
-
DavidnDaria
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
Great work, Don! Your writing produces the most incredibly vivid scenes!
-
Don Jetman
- Player
- Posts: 340
- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
It's an older one - I'm sure you've seen it before, but thanks. Just tidied it up a bit and posted here for the first time. Great memories...
Don
Don
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
WOW
Don very hot story. what have you and L. been up to as of late.
any new stories as of yet can"t wait to read the next one"s
keep us posted.
Don very hot story. what have you and L. been up to as of late.
any new stories as of yet can"t wait to read the next one"s
keep us posted.
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Don Jetman
- Player
- Posts: 340
- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
Nothing new lately. The virus has stopped all work travel, and we're not risking any personal travel now. My company has mandated working from home, and L is mostly confined to that too. She isn't taking any chances with her work fuck-buddy, so it looks like it will be a very long time until we play again. It's OK - we've gone without for months before. We have plenty of our own fantasies to play with in bed - in fact, we have more time together to fuck now than before, day and night. Stay healthy.
Don
Don
-
OOAA
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
Role-playing time now...., we are all confined here too...Don Jetman wrote: ↑Wed Mar 18, 2020 7:50 pmNothing new lately. The virus has stopped all work travel, and we're not risking any personal travel now. My company has mandated working from home, and L is mostly confined to that too. She isn't taking any chances with her work fuck-buddy, so it looks like it will be a very long time until we play again. It's OK - we've gone without for months before. We have plenty of our own fantasies to play with in bed - in fact, we have more time together to fuck now than before, day and night. Stay healthy.
Don
Take care folks!
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
Don
it has been awhile hope you and L are doing well.
and are still on guard in all of this.
it has been awhile hope you and L are doing well.
and are still on guard in all of this.
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Don Jetman
- Player
- Posts: 340
- Joined: Sat Dec 15, 2018 8:56 am
Re: Jus Primae Noctis
We're healthy, just seeing libidos hit zero now that the world is imploding. Hope you're OK as well.
Don
Don