Maria's Gallery - The Shock Of The Old
Posted 06 September 2011
The picture I'm showing in this entry is a fairly innocuous one compared to those in the first three gallery posts, but from a personal perspective it has far greater power. Unfortunately I'm not at liberty to disclose exactly why this particular video capture has such striking significance, but if I tell you that a framed enlarged print from later in the same session now hangs on my bedroom wall at Gerald's house in London then you may at least get some idea of how meaningful it is to me. It's a shot that shouldn't really be given a public airing and my husband will be very unhappy that I'm doing so, but that's precisely why I have been itching to publish it online for several months now.
A number of times in my main diary posts I've mentioned that I have had liaisons with men who are considerably older than I am, and in the 'London Whore' post I openly admitted that the man who I had lunch with when I played my trophy doll role in early January this year was past his sixtieth birthday. However I sometimes wonder how readers have reacted to such revelations, because I have received virtually no feedback on the subject.
I imagine most women would find it very hard to understand why an attractive female in her thirties who basically has the pick of the crop of men of her own age (and well below too) would want to have sex with someone who isn't too far away from drawing his state pension. Sure, it might be understandable (though not condonable) if she needed the financial security or it was some sort of ticket to career or social advancement. Other than that though, why would she even entertain the idea?
The primary motivator in my case is much the same as always: because it unequivocally marks me as a slut. Deep down an inadequate cuckold husband can understand why his wife wants to have sex with a younger, more physically impressive male. He may not like it, but he can rationalise it, and for many a man there's an undeniable eroticism in the thought of his partner copulating with a tall, big-cocked alpha stud – a man worthy of his goddess. But a guy twenty years older? And what about someone thirty years older and beyond?
Interestingly I have never had a problem with the idea of having sex with a much older man. Partially I think this is because I frequented so many functions with Martin when I was younger where most of the attendees were many years my senior, and I very much enjoyed the attention and compliments I would inevitably receive. I have always loved being ogled, and older men especially are particularly drawn to the high heels/tight skirt/stockings/suspenders look that has been my signature style. It's very easy to tease and arouse such men, and the thought of both dominating them at the one extreme and kneeling before them and sucking them at the other has always had tremendous appeal. This outlook was heavily reinforced by the fact that so many of my business clients were men in their mid to late fifties (and at that time I was still in my late twenties/early thirties) and after you've been sitting in front of such an influential, commanding guy for a couple of hours with a rubber cock strapped into your pussy it's very easy to start entertaining wild thoughts of being forced over his office desk and submitting to his desires. I regularly wore leather briefs with an anal zipper to my business meetings because this fantasy was so ingrained in me.
There's also the shock factor, and well before I first cuckolded Martin I was already weaving scenarios in my mind where my husband would unexpectedly catch me in flagrante with an older man, one who was well-known to both of us. I never really fixated on any particular individual (although Martin's father and our local vicar featured more than most) but the mode of sex was often the same – Martin would walk into the room to find me on all fours being taken doggy fashion by my elderly suitor with only the penis gag in my mouth preventing my cries of delight from echoing across the hallway.
It's important that you appreciate that even though the underlying motive is to humiliate Martin, playing games with some older guy isn't in any way an ordeal for me. On the contrary, I really enjoy it, and as soon as my sugar daddy starts running his fingers along the outline of my suspender straps in the taxi on the way to the restaurant then I'll already be looking forward to having his hands exploring my underwear later before I thank him with my mouth for the expensive meal he's bought me. And older men are surprisingly adventurous too. They've done the missionary position thing to the point of boredom and they want something different - something kinky, something dirty. I'm more than happy to give it to them.
The great thing about the picture below is that the gentleman concerned, Howard, isn't 'just another guy'. This shot has extraordinary poignancy for my husband and it was a truly magical moment when I showed him the video that this picture was captured from (and in the following week my thirteen-inch black rubber dildo rarely left my side at home as the poetry of what I had done kept striking me and I couldn't resist watching the video again). I even started to write a diary post detailing the events that led to this scene taking place, but I realised that I couldn't give the necessary background without compromising Howard's identity. I'll just have to leave you wondering why this shot has so much emotional drama attached to it (but in case it's crossed your mind... no, it isn't Martin's father).
Twenty minutes after the above picture was taken I was bent over Howard's knee and he was pleasuring me with a double-dildo similar to the one you saw in my business case in the 'Dream Consultant' post. I was then spanked by him before he buckled one of my special fellatio gags on to me and force-fucked my locked open mouth in several different positions. I'm very keen on my husband and boyfriend seeing me take cock orally like this in what is a genuinely aggressive manner and I always think it looks sensational when my assailant rapidly moves his body back and forth while holding my head firmly with both hands, ramming his prick into my throat on the forward thrusts. It was this submissive oral accommodation that I particularly wanted Martin to witness, and I had agreed with Howard beforehand that he wouldn't ejaculate in my mouth. Instead I would wrap my lacy panties around his cock and finish him off with my long leather gloves, giving me the delicious opportunity to drive home in my cum-soiled briefs and taunt my husband with them.
That at least was the plan. However as I was being orally abused in this way I became so turned on by the sheer sordidness and audacity of what I was doing that I impulsively went much further than anticipated, and after repositioning the camera I slowly undressed my special date, kissing him sensuously and rubbing my hands over his body before lying on my back on the dining table and begging him to fuck me. It was a fantastic moment – just incredible – and arguably the kinkiest intercourse I have ever indulged in. The original intention was to humiliate my husband by having a suck-and-grope session with an old guy who had once played a significant part in our lives, but here I was being pussy-fucked by him. Even better I had my thigh boots on and this enabled me to torment Martin by having sex with this man in my husband's favourite position of old. I pulled my legs right up so Howard could grab me by the ankles, at which point I became almost delirious with excitement.
"Kiss my boots! Oh please, kiss my boots," you hear me plead on the video, and my imploring doesn't stop even when I am granted my wish: "Oh God, yes, yes, lick the leather! Lick the leather! Fuck and lick! Come on Howard, fuck and lick!!... yes, yes, now suck the heels! Suck the heels, baby!... Oh God, yes!! That's it... YES!!... Suck and fuck me! Suck my cock heels and fuck me!!"
There's something so beautifully wrong about this scene when you see it – the sexy, thigh-booted babe in her shiny leather corset and latex bra being penetrated by a short, unremarkable, silver-haired senior citizen whose skin and muscles long ago gave up the fight against gravity. But what keeps me watching this video again and again is that I then spontaneously call out to my husband as I am being taken, and it's not a stream of cruel taunts as one might expect but instead a sort of stunned recognition of the significance of what I am doing, almost as though it has only just hit me:
"Oh Martin... oh baby... he's inside me... he's inside me... Howard is actually fucking me!... no condom either... and he's licking my boots and sucking my heels just like you used to, and... oh God I can feel his balls smacking against me!... oh this is something else... something else... did you ever imagine... could you ever begin to believe... he's actually going to come inside me, baby! Think about it! Howard squirting inside me! I can't believe it! If your mother ever sees this... just think about it! Howard! Howard is going to spunk inside me!!"
I don't think I could have driven the dagger any deeper into Martin's heart. It had been nearly ten years since he last experienced the thrill of doing this to me, and to see this particular man of all men enjoying his wife in this way was utterly crushing for him, especially as I am clearly loving what is being done to me, absolutely loving it. I would never have thought it possible that an average-sized cock could give me such pleasure through vaginal sex any more, but of course my passion was being remorselessly driven by the symbolic significance of the exchange and I was also fervently massaging my clit with my gloved fingers. The moment when my elderly lothario's body thrust forward and went rigid as he let out a groan of ecstasy while spurting his cum inside me will always remain as one of the pinnacles of my depraved scheming, and it's this very scene that is captured in the photograph hanging in my room at Gerald's home, with both our heads arched back in climax.
I would never normally have unprotected sex like this with a non-lover but once it had been done there was no holding me back, and the anticipation as I drove home that day to confront my husband was almost overwhelming. Martin was about to learn that this man had ejaculated inside me and I knew I was going to have the unforgettable memory of removing my semen-soaked panties in front of my spouse, dangling them in front of his face, and then holding them tightly in place against his open mouth with a ball gag so that he would have no choice but to suck on the damp, sticky cum that had leaked out of my prick-pleasured cunt. I captured this astonishing humiliation on video together with the subsequent scene where I straddled Martin's face and made him lick out my pussy. The camera was also running half an hour later when I got my husband on all fours in front of the widescreen lounge TV and punished him with my dildo briefs as I forced him to watch the unedited video which shockingly revealed who exactly it was who had helped me fill the panties that were once again strapped to his mouth.
Still not convinced I'm a whore who is devoid of virtually any moral scruples when it comes to satisfying my sexual urges? What else must I do to prove the point?
|To contact me, email maria at this site|