She Sets The Pace

You were annoyed. Really annoyed. You felt the blood rush to your head, you’re knuckles whitening. These losers had just walked into your house and violated your wife like they owned the joint. But as Michelle idly licked Tom’s cum stain off the hardwood floor, you zoned out and considered the situation. Level 4 cum addicts showed no signs of empathetic reasoning whilst suffering withdrawal symptoms, and besides the asshole that came in your wife’s arsehole, the boys had been reasonably accommodating to your wife and her vulgar requests. You cooled down having accepted the situation for what it was, just as Michelle finished licking her treatment and began crawling towards you.

“Honey, I need you too big boy. Don’t skimp out on me with your fat load” Michelle playfully teased, having worked her way up from the floor and resting her nose on your zipper.

She deftly unzipped your work trousers, and had her supple lips on your cockhead in seconds. You needed to explain the addiction her, but not before her final dose for the day. Plus, you weren’t exactly unprepared for her desires. The objectively sexual, almost pornographic nature of the last hour, coupled with her teasing and sensual movements had you rock hard in no time.

“God I need you” Michelle shuddered out, having popped your head out of her mouth. “I need your fucking juice now.” You groaned, already missing her feminine touch.

Having worked you up, Michelle quickly abandoned any sense of foreplay. She held your shaft at the base as she began bobbing her head up and down your length, pacing herself like a sputtering piston. You weren’t particularly long or thick, but you still managed to hit the back of her throat as her spit started to make your cock glisten.

Her spare hand had rested on your thigh, but as she heard you groan again she connected the dots that you were close. Realising instinctively that she was close to her final dose, she kneaded and massaged your boiling balls in her delicate hands. She took the spit that began to fall down your shaft like a lazy river in her hands, and rubbed it deftly into your nutsack.

‘Fuck, she’s such a whore like this’ you thought, only for an instant. But the instantaneous naughty thought pushed you over the edge, and you came right as she bottomed out. Hard.

“Mmmmmhhh” groaned Michelle, as she felt your spurts of cum head straight down her throat. She gulped down each strand, every fibre of your sperm reaching her stomach. As your intense orgasm dies down, you gather your thoughts to explain the addiction to her. She had to know she was acting abnormally, but the reason why would likely come as an awful shock. You also quickly reprimanded yourself for thinking of her in such a degrading manner, even if you admitted it was hot.

Michelle begins to stir beneath you, her body lurching as if she had only woke up. You made eye contact, and as the reality of what happened washed over her, she leaned on your knees and sat down on the armrest.

“I’m so sorry about -“ she began, before you quickly stopped her and explained everything to her. That she was a cum addict. That she would need multiple doses per day to function. That abstaining for too long could kill her. That her reckless abandon for decency was a symptom of the addiction, not her desires. She doesn’t say a word, but her eyes tell you that what you’re explaining is helping her accept her actions. That she appreciates your honesty and understanding. Now though, she was going to ask for you to understand her a little more.

“Honey, you know I love you. If I could, I would remain faithful to you until the ground swallowed me whole. But, you know and I know that that can’t be an option so long as I have this addiction.” Even though you expected them, her words still cut you to the bone. She was asking you to accept infidelity. “I’ve been seeing those boys in that manner for the last two days, and I’ve felt guilty for every second after. But you’re telling me that the only way for me to function is to continue having these meetings with them. I need you to agree with me when I agree to keep seeing them.”

This was a tough pill to swallow for you. One of the toughest. And all the alternatives were just as stalwart. On one hand, you knew of professional services that offered to accommodate your wife as well as the boys had. This felt more detached and less emotionally crushing, being that it had an air of formality. However, you knew that your wife had been kept satisfied up until now with her ‘meetings’. It was already a functional affair, and you had the opportunity to mitigate the number of people privy to Michelle’s condition.

Of course, you could attempt to choose neither. There was a chance that by abstaining from other sources, you could be the sole provider for Michelle. But this was a slim chance, and could easily put your wife in unnecessary danger.

The choice, now, was yours.