Really Getting Ready

Two days to go.

The house smelled like warm oil and jasmine. The lights were dim. The TV screen showed muted bukkake compilations looping softly in the background — a hypnotic collage of women on their knees, eyes glazed, faces dripping with cum and worship.

Andy sat on the couch in a loose tee, slowly edging his cock with both hands. Sandra sat across from him, cross-legged, in an oversized tee and nothing else — her eyes locked on the screen, fingers gently circling between her thighs.

She was glowing. No makeup. Just clean skin, soft lips, and the confident haze of a woman who knew what was coming.

“You lasted thirty minutes this time,” she said, glancing at the stopwatch.

“You’ll do better tomorrow.”

Andy was flushed, breathless. His cock was shiny with spit from her earlier warmup, but still aching.

“You edge like a fucking scientist,” he groaned.

Sandra smiled. “I edge like a woman who wants results.”

She stood and stretched, giving him a slow view of her thighs, her ass, her soft, teasing smirk.

“Tomorrow night… I’ll do a full dress rehearsal. Everything. Hair. Makeup. Outfit. Kneeling.”

Andy's mouth dried instantly.

“You’ll be watching. You’ll be hard. But no touching.”

“You’ll save it,” she said. “Because I want you so full you can barely speak when you cum on me.”

She leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“Now go shower,” she said softly. “I need to oil myself and practice how I want my tits to bounce.”

He staggered to his feet like a man barely clinging to self-control.

As he left, Sandra moved toward the dresser. Carefully, quietly, she opened the third drawer — and lifted out her secret.

A black choker. Leather. Bold silver letters.

CUMSLUT.

She held it up to her neck and smiled at herself in the mirror.

Sandra giggled as she traced his chest with her fingers.

“I’ve been going through your porn folders.”

Andy looked at her, half-laughing.

“The ones labeled ‘Tax Returns’?”

She grinned.

“Tax Returns! You named your porn folder ‘Tax Returns’! That’s so fucking boring and American of you.”

“And you have a whole curriculum in there, I should’ve at least gotten the syllabus.”

She started counting on her fingers.

“FUF. Double Penetration. Triple Penetration. DP Anal. Facials. High heels. Group sex. Gangbangs. Cum play. Gangbang creampies. Bukkake.”

“It’s like a pervert’s MBA.”

Andy groaned.

“You watched all of it?”

She leaned closer.

“Not just watched. Studied.”

Sandra straddled Andy’s lap, still wearing the choker.

Her body was a masterpiece — every curve barely hidden beneath black lace. Her lipstick was dark, glossy. Her eyes burned.

She traced the side of his face with one finger and smirked.

“So… tell me,” she whispered.

“Now that your innocent little housewife has been corrupted beyond repair…”

“How would you like to see her next?”

Andy swallowed hard, hands resting on her thighs, thumbs brushing her stockings.

“Every hole stuffed,” he muttered.

“Mmm,” Sandra purred. “With cocks? Or toys?”

“Cocks and toys.”

“All strangers?”

“Maybe. They could be our friends, they could be your colleagues, they could even be your students. .”

She giggled — slow and dirty.

“While you film? And will you join”

“Definitely I’ll film and join”

“And do I get blindfolded? Or do I make eye contact with each one as they take their turn?”

Andy’s cock twitched beneath her.

“Eye contact.”

She rolled her hips once, slow and teasing.

“You want to see your sweet, loving wife spit-roasted?”

“Face full of cock, pussy wide open, some man stuffing my ass while I moan and drool?”

Andy nodded slowly.

She leaned in, breath hot against his ear.

“You fantasize about me gagging, dripping, being filled to the brim and begging for more.”

“Being called a cumwhore while they pump into me. Is that it, baby?”

“You want to see me pounded? Glazed? Fucked dumb?”

“Want to watch someone pull out of my pussy while another shoots across my face?”

Andy was frozen.

She kept going.

“You want my makeup ruined, my tits glazed, my belly painted, and my thighs leaking.”

“You want to hear me say thank you with cum in my mouth.”

She tilted her head.

“And then come back home, wrap myself in a saree, and serve dinner like the good little wife I am?”

Andy exhaled like he’d been holding it for minutes.

“Fuck, Sandra…”

She kissed him softly, then harder.

“You’ve made me this way,” she whispered.

“Now I want to live it.”

She climbed off his lap, slid onto her knees in front of him, adjusted her choker…

“Tomorrow,” she smiled, eyes glowing,

“You start by painting me yourself.”

He blinked.

“You really were so innocent when we met…”

“I was,” she said with mock sweetness.

“I just wanted love, a little vanilla sex, someone who respected me.”

“And now look what you’ve done.”

She traced her fingers down between her thighs.

“You’ve made me want all my holes stuffed.”

“You’ve made me fantasize about men fighting to cum on my face.”

“You’ve made me need to be glazed.”

“And you love it, don’t you?” she whispered.

Andy swallowed hard.

“You love being my cum-loving whore.”

Her pupils dilated.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Say it again.”

He pulled her close, kissed her slow.

“You love being my cum-loving whore.”

She moaned against his lips.

Tomorrow.

Andy waited on the bed, still warm from the shower. The room was dark, save for the soft flicker from the hallway.

He heard the door open.

Then the click of heels.

His head turned automatically.

And then she appeared.

Sandra stepped into the room like a fucking vision. All black. All curves. All invitation.

The lingerie was sheer and sculpted — a mesh crop that hugged her breasts so tight her nipples left faint shadows, paired with thin high-waisted lace panties that barely framed her hips. Thigh-high stockings held tight to her legs, finishing in glossy black heels.

Her lips were deep red. Her eyes smoky. Her hair? Swept to one side — revealing what she hadn’t worn before.

A black leather choker. Silver letters gleaming.

CUMSLUT.

Andy sat up straight.

His breath caught.

She said nothing — just walked toward him, slow, deliberate, confident. A goddess with a collar.

“You kept that hidden,” he said, voice hoarse.

She stopped at the edge of the bed.

“It’s not for everyone to see,” she murmured.

“Only the man who made me like this.”

She climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap.

Her fingers played at the base of his throat.

“Do you remember when I blushed if you watched me change?”

“When I used to cover my breasts with my arms?”

“When I said I didn’t like porn? That cum was messy?”

She leaned in, brushing her nose against his.

“And now…”

Her hand slipped between them, gently stroking his hardening cock through his shorts.

“Now I’ve been training for days to see how many times you can cum on me before I beg for more.”

“Now I edge you like a pet project because I want every drop on my skin.”

“Now I wear this…”

She tapped the choker.

“…because your innocent little wife is addicted to being coated in you.”

She kissed him — hard.

Then pulled back and slid off his lap, down to her knees.

“So here I am, baby.”

She spread her thighs. Palms open on her legs. Choker tight at her neck.

“Your good girl. Your masterpiece. Your cumslut.”

“You’ve trained me. Tamed me. Taught me to need it.”

She tilted her head back, lips parted.

“So here I am, baby… Drench me.”