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With the gentle buzzing of my phone, it suddenly hit me like a bucket of ice water just how incredibly bizarre, risky- CRAZY it was for me to have set things up this way. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves; butterflies fluttered in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t quite know what to do with my hands. I forced myself to remember why I had set up the evening- my husband’s birthday- the way I had. I did it for the right reasons, based upon what I know of him- which is pretty much everything. Everything would be alright. I tried not to think about what would happen if my husband rejected the intricately assembled plans I had drawn up a month ago and executed without a hitch. I tried not to think about how on earth I would segue into what I ultimately had planned. I tried not to think about the young man hiding in the basement study, waiting for me to call him up…
This is a story about how I managed to give my husband a once in a lifetime present for his birthday. But before I tell you about what happened, I think you probably need to know a few things about He and I, so you have a little context to work with, as you hopefully read through and enjoy this story. This is of course a very personal story, and erotic in nature. Please feel free to act out however you feel if you find the narrative agreeable to your erotic sensibilities.
My husband and I have been married just over a year, and prior to that we dated for about a year. Both of us were ready to settle down when we met, and by and large the past two years have been the happiest of my life. And, being reasonably happy, as well as sensitive and caring and loving towards each other, it follows that we enjoy a very healthy sex life (actually, it is WAY better than I thought it could be.
Men and women are very different- as we were made so. Thus, I have fallen into the role of feminine submission (in a sexual way only), while he is my masculine counterpart, who pursues me, protects me, and- occasionally, ravages me. 😉
I would say that we are not to different that most people when it comes to our sex life, though like most, we have our own little quirks, kinks, and proclivities (my husband more so that me.) In particular, there is a particular sex act that we perform on a regular basis- you could say that my husband has a fetish- a very strong drive to finish the act of lovemaking with me by crawling up my body, sitting on my chest, thrusting his throbbing, quaking penis directly above the center of my face, as I lay powerless beneath his huge, muscular body… Well, you get the picture. My husband has a facial fetish- he likes to mark me with his seed- I am his. And by and large I enjoy it- it’s one of the purest ways to show him love I can muster.
It’s interesting, thinking on it now, how very insecure and secretive he is about this little quirk of his sexuality. I still remember the way in which I learned about his fetish- we had several long (and unbearably exciting!) conversations about sex before we were wed. I still remember watching him with fascination, curiosity, and a small bit of excitement as he revealed to me- his voice soft and his heart full of apprehension- that he had a sexual fetish he felt very self-conscious about. I told him that I would try to understand and that he need not worry- we were to be wed soon- by that point, there was nothing that would change how deeply I loved and respected him… “so trust me with your secret- there’s nothing to fear,” I said with warmth and compassion in my heart.
In a roundabout way, he carefully gave a backstory to his sexual history, and how for reasons unknown to him, he had always gravitated to a single sex act- ejaculating onto the face of his partner. “I have a facial fetish,” he confessed. I had of course known what he was talking about, but I had never had someone do that to me, nor had I ever thought to ask for it. He continued on, explaining to me how primal this desire was, and he shared that he was afraid that if I was not receptive to him in this way, he would feel hurt. I snuggled up to him in that moment, and pulled him on top of me in the bed where we lay that night, and with my large blue eyes gazing up into his, I smirked and whispered, “baby, once we are married, you can do whatever you’d like to me. I am yours, and you are mine.” He smiled so big, and thanked me, and kissed me- and though I didn’t say anything, I felt his penis press against my leg, suddenly as hard as it could possibly be. I felt a little twinge in between my legs, and I smiled inside at the thought that very soon, I would be split open by his hot, hard manhood.
But it was not until after we were married sometime that he divulged the final aspect of his infatuation with seeing his seed splurting in great gooey gobs onto my waiting face. Earlier that day, he had done something very sweet for me- something simple, but so loving, and I had promised him that when night fell I would reward him in canlı bahis şirketleri the way men most like to be rewarded. I winked as I said this, and shot my slender hand out to give his penis a little squeeze.
That night we were especially open to exploring each other sexually, and after a good long time of pleasuring me, I took over and stroked him with my hands- bringing him at least 4 times to the precipice of orgasm, then backing off before he lost control. I had learned that prolonging his excitement led to his internal sexual organs to manufacture more and more semen, which led to more powerful orgasms, but more importantly, a higher volume in ejaculate. But tonight was special- there was just something in the air. When I had tortured him enough, I laid back upon the bed, and asked him to come straddle my shoulders, so I “could take a closer look at him.” He gladly obliged, and swinging one knee over my supine body, he sat down lightly upon my chest, looked down at me and grinned. My upper arms were pinned at my sides, hemmed in my his muscular thighs. I liked how regardless of how many times we had done this, I always felt a slight thrill of powerlessness beneath his powerful body. I reached up with my hands and pushed his lower back forward, prompting him to spread his legs a little wider, as well as scoot a little farther forward. I looked up into his eyes- oh, he was so ready to explode! But before he did, I wanted to tease his mind just a little more… so I asked an unusual question- the first thing that came to my mind, really- certainly a kinky question, but not so strange considering that he had swung his swollen penis right into my personal space- not to mention the fact that once again it would be his spasming testicles dumping their greyish gelatinous DNA-custard into the thundering reservoir at the base of his wonderfully thick, beautifully shaped cock, before being ejaculated violently out into the space beyond the enormous head of his dick, to come careening down upon my delicate little upturned nose, mysmall, red mouth, and pool in huge gooey gobs upon my large feline eyes. So before he crossed that threshold, I stopped him in his tracks with this question:
“Baby,” I purred, “Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a facial?”
My large blue eyes gleamed in anticipation, and my eyelids- with their long black lashes narrowed into a sultry stare. I could tell that his head was spinning, flooded with pleasure-producing endorphins, intoxicated by lust at the prospect of releasing the unbearable pressure I had built up deep inside his loins for the past hour.
But his answer surprised me; I had expected him to simply smirk and try to skirt the question as superfluous; instead, he simply said, “yeah, I have… I’ve thought about it…” I could tell that he suddenly felt vulnerable having made the admission, which meant that he had not just thought about it in passing, but had explored the idea in fantasy. I reached down and grabbed my wet pussy, suddenly inflamed by my own imagination, and surprised myself by what I said next. “I bet you’d like to know exactly what it feels like to receive a facial.” His thighs tensed up, and he brought one of his large hands forth and grasped his beautiful penis just below the plump head and gave himself a little twist, sending an involuntary shudder through his entire body. I was onto something here- could it be that he was keeping a secret fantasy from me? I pressed him further, asking him to tell me if his facial fetish went deeper than he had heretofore revealed. “Don’t cum yet,” I cooed, “in fact, you can’t come on my face until you tell me what you mean.”
He let go of himself, and I raised my head up off the bed to place my little mouth upon the underside of his wonderfully thick penis- a little kiss, then my tongue darting out for a lick, my gaze never wavering from his eyes- he shuddered and my man’s big dick flipped up in response to an involuntary muscular contraction at its base, then flopped back down with a light “smack” against my lips and cheek. I giggled and laid my head back down, and told him to spill the beans.
“It doesn’t really matter, because it’s not like I’ll ever actually do it- and I’ve never told anyone this- but I’m just… curious, I guess, what it would be like to have someone cum on my face.” He paused for a moment, then continued as I lay there enthralled, still fingering my clit- an action that was quickly drawing me closer to an orgasm of my own. “I’m not gay- I’m not attracted to men at all. But- in my fantasy- you are the one jerking off a guy- and” -he had obviously worked this out in his mind, I thought, giggleing inside at his sheepishness- “Well, the only ay I would do it was if the guy had a great body- shaved, and a perfect dick. A big dick. And I wouldn’t want him to cum on my face…” he paused again, changing directions in his mind. “Think of it this way,” he said in a deep, soft canlı kaçak iddaa voice, “It’s like, like you, my wife, are just borrowing a dick- making it yours- it’s you who are controlling it- it’s yours. And… yeah, I would love to have you give me a facial.”
My guts snapped shut like a trap and a came- hard. The thought of being the one in control, of having a big, throbbing dick in my hands, of getting to aim it, and unload it all over my husband’s face- well, I’m not really sure I can say why the idea was so erotic to me, but it was. I started furiously grinding my sopping wet pussy, and with a feverish look in my eye, I growled, “Oh God baby, jerk off all over my face!” He grabbed his huge dick and scooted up a little higher, positioning the enormous plump head directly above the center of my face, and started spinning his hand around the shaft just below the angry red bulb with rhythmic precision. I looked him straight in the eyes, then looked back down at his huge, perfect dick and heavy balls. I loved how perfect his dick was- we had measured it at 7 inches long, which was plenty long enough, but it was so thick that when my small hands grasped it, my middle finger and thumb only touched if I squeezed. And he had great balls- they were big and heavy and swung low most of the time- though right now the flushed tissue of his scrotum had clenched up tight as a net, nestling his tender testicles right into place at the base of his quivering dick. His hips started gyrating, and his breath caught in his throat, and then he started moaning- and I along with him, as another orgasm ripped straight through my hips and burst like fireworks in my brain. With a mighty groan, his legs locked up, and as my pussy crushed down against itself in ecstasy, I locked my eyes on the glistening slit at the tip of my husband’s penis as I always did, powerless to do anything but watch as his firey hot seed rained down upon my waiting face.
As usual, my husband had strategically positioned himself in such a way that his cum would land right in the center of my face. His cum had always been exceptionally thick and gooey- sometimes I would get up and walk over to a mirror after he had finished to see what I looked like with his cum all over my face. It stuck like glue wherever it landed, and would cling there on my face even when I stood up. I remember looking closely at my face in the mirror once, early on in our marriage- and I remember feeling a strange primal pride that my husband’s essence was so hearty. My man was strong and virile, and so it followed that his ejaculate would be, too.
My reviere was intrrupted by my husband’s hips convulsing violently- once, twice, three times- my cue to speak the words he so loved to hear from his woman: “Oh God, baby, cum on my face! Just shoot your thick load wherever you want- Cum baby, cum for me!!”
A desperate gasp escaped his lips as the underside of his shaft expanded wildly and head of his penis swelled to the size of a plum, causing the delicate slit hovering just inches above my cute button nose to blossom open. “Yes!” I squealed! “Yes!!”
The entire length of his penis collapsed in upon itself in one mighty throb. My heart thrilled at the force of it, just as I tried desperately not to flinch or snap my eyes shut as it erupted it’s contents into the open air above me. A long, massive gout of greyish white jizzum flopped lazily into the open air, and for an instant looked as though it’s momentum might carry it against gravity, spinning lazily in an arch beyond my head. I knew better, though. I shot a quick glance up to meet my husband’s wide-eyed gaze as his fresh, hot load of chunky sperm and gooey semen followed a steep arc through the air and onto my face.
As I usually do, I had put on thick eye makeup- black eye liner, dark eye shadow, with mascara accentuating my long eye-lashes. I knew that my husband liked me to keep my eyes open and my mouth closed when he gave me a facial, so I felt an explosion of heat in my left eye as his first load landed with a sloppy slurp right in the center of my face, completely enveloping my little nose, and obscuring my entire eye from forehead to cheekbone under a pool of steamy testicle batter. Then, because I had spent the better part of the last hour edging my husband to the brink of orgasm time and again, I watched with the eye not covered in a pool of quivering goo as a second lob, and third, and fourth- were flung mercilessly out from his hovering cum canon, slowly but surely coating my entire face with sticky hot sperm.
I stopped counting after the eighth eruption drooled out of his throbbing penis to coat my small mouth with warm, sticky slime. I flicked my tongue out from between my lips to taste him. Then as quickly as it began, it was over, and I looked up to find my husband grinning in a very self-satisfied way at how thoroughly he had demolished my face. He swung his leg back over, releasing my arms, a thin strand canlı kaçak bahis of semen still dangling from his rigid member. I propped myself up on my elbows, curled my closed lips into a smile, and winked my right eye at him.
Then, through a thick layer of spunk, I said, “I’m glad you told me about your little fantasy- about wanting a facial yourself.” He blushed a little. Jokingly, I ribbed him, referencing the aftermath of his orgasm splayed haphazardly across my face: “you sure you want this?” He smirked sheepishly, but then spoke a little bit more earnestly than I think he intended, saying: “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway- it’s not like it’s ever going to happen.”
I winked again, sat up, got up off the bed, and then walked into the bathroom, to gaze in the mirror at a woman in a thick opalescent mask, before stooping in front of the sink to let it slide off my face- which I then washed with warm water and gentle soap. My left eye twitched ever so slightly, and as usual it was a little itchy, but I paid no attention. I was deep in thought, in a crazy place in my imagination, thinking how sweet it would be to turn the tables for once and be the man in the family!
But now here I was, after two months of slowly pulling the strings together- along with pure luck at finding the young man Jason currently hiding in the basement- it was finally time, and I was very worried. I really hoped he would have an open mind for what I had painstakingly planned.
Upon coming into the house from the garage, I greeted my husband with a hug and a kiss and wished him happy birthday reaching between his legs to gently grasp his warm cock in my hand. He liked that 🙂 Earlier in the day I had told him that I had very special plans for the evening- I told him that tonight would be a very wonderful experience- and that I would be TOTALLY satisfying his every sexual need. He liked that, too 🙂
I reached up and grasped him around the back of his powerful neck and pulled myself up to kiss him again. He reached down and enveloped me in his long, strong arms. And so it was that we had a very quick little bite to eat, with some nice wine, and then after that I pulled out a bottle of tequila, and poured him a shot.
“Well this is odd,” he smirked, “you’re not trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me are you?” With a gleam in my eye, I nodded demurely and simply breathed, “maybe, maybe so.” I winked playfully, and poured him another shot immediately after he took the first.
I led him to the bedroom, and gently pulled off his clothes- for every article I removed from his body, I did the same for myself. Soon we were nude before each other, and passion overcame us, and we immediately crashed into bed, where he wasted no time piercing my instantly wet, fuzzy little mound. God, every time it hurt- every time. But it never lasted more than a few seconds, before we were going at it like wild animals! Time kind of got away from me for a little while there, as I sailed the gently undulating waves of pleasure and orgasmic delight beneath my husband. But after the third one (I’ve always found it rather easy to reach orgasm with my man- he has the greatest dick in the whole world!) I suddenly remembered that downstairs waited a 24 year old man in a robe, who had been entertaining himself for the past hour and a half by watching porn and jacking himself off.
That’s right, I haven’t told you yet how in the world everything had come together to make my wild and obviously risky plan feasible. You see, I was talking with a coworker at the hospital where I work, who just happens to be the most flamboyantly gay man I have ever met- or even heard of. I was careful not to go into much detail, but I sort of snuck out the idea that I needed to find a young man “for a friend-” but that this friend had very particular interests in the relationship. My co-worker Joe was immediately enthralled. “Oh shit honey, what exactly do you think you are doing, playing homosexual matchmaker. What exactly is this “person” you’re talkin’ about want in a man?”
I pulled him into a side room and in a low voice, told him precisely what I was needing. It was simple, and I felt very awkward asking a coworker so directly if he knew of a piece of meat who would be interested in straight sex and nothing more. But Joe just thought it was endlessly amusing, listening to me shuffle my words in a failed attempt not to seem incredibly superficial. But in the end, he simply said he’d keep his ears open on the weekends, when he and his friends gathered in the center of the city at their own segregated venues.
A couple of weeks later, Joe came into work Monday morning with a mischievous grin and gleam in his eye- he had spoken some with an acquaintance- a friend of a friend- who met the precise specifications I had relayed to Joe weeks before. He even made a special gesture with his limp wrists as he lisped, “oh and I heard that he’s everything you asked for, and more, you kinky little bitch. Now who are you going to set him up with again?” I thanked him, ignored his question, and left the room with a little piece of paper with a name and a phone number on it. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
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