Free cuckold community
Sign up now!
Ditte always made an impression. It started with her height; six foot three before she added the tall stilettos that filled her collection. Then there was her slender physique that she guided with a delicate and feminine ease. Bright blonde hair, her natural colour, fell straight, drawn into a tight ponytail that came off her crown, and with her long fringe styled to frame her feline features.
People turned to watch as the Goddess prowled through the club. Her poise was perfect and her balance atop her spike heeled sandals beyond measure. As she threaded her way through the crowd it parted for her. Sometimes she stopped to exchange brief words with an old friend. More often she kept moving.
Did they know she was hunting?
I stood alone near the bar, nursing a soft drink, and watched her at work. Her bright blue eyes swept easily from face to face, occasionally drifting down when a closer inspection was warranted. Not once did she look at me, even when she brushed past.
Why would she?
I was scrawny and barely reached her shoulder. My hair was dark and scruffy and going grey at the edges. She was twelve years my junior and had the world eating out of the palm of her hand. What did she need with me?
She found her target. A handsome young stud who was part of a gaggle of five men. He had an athletic quality about him, football or rugby rather than gym. His hair was the same colour as mine but styled much better. Clean shaven. Brown eyes. Polo shirt and slacks.
I watched with awe and jealousy as she separated him from the herd. A playful smile. A twirl of the long trails of blonde hair framing her impressive bust. His attention drifted from his friends to her. She sealed the deal when she spun on her heels and the short hem of her flimsy skater dress lifted and flashed pert bare buttocks.
A table cleared for her. It was circular with a pair of stools opposite one another. She perched on hers, one foot on the ground, the other with heel hooked over the rail. She folded her arms under her breasts, gently lifting them as if offering them to him. When he approached she extended long fingers and invited him to his seat.
The moment a nearby table opened up I moved. The crowd didn’t part for me and I battled my way through dancers and drinkers alike. Another figure made a move for the same spot and would have beaten me to it if he hadn’t knocked another crowd dweller.
As I settled she was already in full flow. She stroked him with her eyes and held her lips in a faint smile and a little apart as if ready to receive a kiss. Her hand reached out to his, resting gently atop it, fingers softly stroking. She leant forwards, resting her chin on a curled hand.
Could he hear her sweet voice above the music? The melodic flow from word to word? Subtle mispronunciations that made her speech all the more attractive?
The trap drew closer. He slipped from his stool and moved it closer. Close enough that his hand slipped under the table and rested on her thigh. She smiled and wrapped her hand around his neck, drew him towards her. Their lips touched.
My heart sank as he tasted her. A sweet taste of mint and sex and longing that lingered in my memory and fuelled a raging jealousy. I should have thrown myself at her feet and begged to be hers. Instead I cowered and simmered in shame.
She broke the kiss and put her forehead on his and she took a deep breath. His hand had slipped beneath her skirt and his arm moved with subtle gestures I knew all too well. He moved closer still, his mouth close enough to whisper. She nodded and mouthed the question, “condom?”
They held hands as they slipped into the crowd. I lost them for a moment, then caught sight of her blonde ponytail carving a path for the exit. I gave chase, heart pounding as I pushed my way through the heaving bodies.
“Staff Only.”
I ignored the sign and pushed through the door. Beyond was a short, dark corridor with more doors leading left and right. I pressed on to the exit. The door hadn’t caught its latch properly and I eased it open.
Beyond was an alleyway, surrounded on either side by tall brick walls that formed a foreboding canyon. A stream passed through the middle, rain water desperately searching for a drain. Large commercial wheelie bins scattered around and high above my head air conditioning units growled. There was no sign of Ditte or her prey.
A hand banged against a bin. I snuck towards the sound, keeping close to the walls and taking careful steps that avoided anything to alert them of my approach.
She leant back against the wall, legs open wide and knees bent to bring herself within his easy reach. She wrapped her arms around his bare back, sliding her fingers up and down his pale skin as passion took her. His trousers hung around his knees, bare bottom flexing as he pressed into her.
He pulled at her dress, the thin strap sliding down her arm, exposing a large, firm breast. His lips slid down her neck to her chest and settled on a hard nipple. She held him and pulled him against her and moaned.
And her eyes met mine.
I froze. Every part of my being felt such intense shame it robbed me of my senses. All I saw was the Goddess. All I heard were her sweet moans. All I smelt was the lingering sweetness of her perfume in the cold night air.
She smiled and eyes rolled as they closed. She lifted his head and kissed him so hard their mouths became one. Moans became muffled squeals.
His thrusting became frantic. Hard and fast with youthful stamina. Blind to her needs. Selfish pig.
The shaking started in her calf muscles and spread upwards quickly. She gripped him tighter than ever, desperate to make him one with her. Her features tightened as she forced her lips away from his. Hung her head on his shoulder. Fought to stave off what was now a certainty.
“Kum i mig,” she told him.
He hesitated.
She fought to form the English, growling, “Cum in me!”
He pushed hard against her. Her body shook with such violence and she wailed through gritted teeth. Then she snapped and her head fell back, eyes wild, mouth wide in a silent scream.
Time stood still until they collapsed on one another, breathless and struggling to make sense of what had happened. He took a step back, his legs not certain they could hold him up. She smiled at him and stroked his cheek.
“Did you enjoy that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Not you.”
The stud turned lazily towards where she looked. He caught sight of me lurking in the shadows and was alert instantly. He grabbed at his trousers, ready to charge me down.
“Relax,” Ditte said. “He’s my husband.”
She straightened her hair and slipped her breasts back inside her dress. I came closer but the stud looked ready to launch himself at me with his fists. It wouldn’t be the first time I took a beating for her.
“I like him to watch,” she said. “He’s very submissive but not very good at sex.”
He didn’t know what to make of us. The young, tall, blonde Goddess and her short, older submissive. I sensed him trying to imagine why someone like me would end up with a great beauty like her. They so often did.
“Money,” she whispered in his ear. “And other things.”
She brushed the back of her dress, getting rid of most of the brick dust. As she came into the light it was me that she offered her hand to.
“Now we go back to our hotel,” she told the stud. “I am going to tell him about us and he is going to clean me with his tongue. He is very good with his tongue.”
A hint of pride punctuated my shame. She tugged and we walked together towards the street. Barely a handful of paces and she stopped and turned.
“Of course, if you can get another erection we could show him.”
He didn’t need a second invitation.
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.