On Wednesday morning of Breeding Week, Mason called me at work to tell me that the valuation was done and he told me what the buyout figure would be. It sounded fair to me, that is, it was higher than I expected.

“My attorney is reviewing the offer letter and we’re planning to deliver it to your attorney tomorrow. What do you think about closing on Monday?”

“Wow, that was quick!” I responded happily. “Sure, I don’t see why not. I’ll tell Andy to expedite it. Assuming he doesn’t find any issues. I’ll see if he can get it vetted by Friday.”

I was enjoying speaking with him; it had been three days since I’d seen him.

“Listen, can I see you?” I hoped I didn’t sound too needy.

“Not today, buddy,” Mason said. “I have a heavy lunch date.” His voice was rich with irony.

“And my schedule is packed this afternoon. I might have a half an hour tomorrow morning. Why don’t you call Mona and ask her to fit you in for me. She knows who you are.”

My appointment to see Mason was at 10:30 Thursday morning. I arrived about ten minutes early and had a chance to chat with Mona, whom I’d spoken with a couple of times already, but had never seen. She turned out to be a petite dark-skinned African-American woman of indeterminate age.

From her voice, I had expected someone a lot younger. Articulate and professional, she was clearly much more than a receptionist; she seemed to know everything about Mason’s business including the proposed terms of our upcoming merger.

Just as she was asking about Anna’s background and her interest in low-cost housing, Mason came out of his office to greet me.

“It was nice talking with you, Mona,” I said as I got up.

“Thank you, Mr. Hausmann,” she smiled. “I’m sure we’ll speak again.”

“I look forward to it,” I said, genuinely.

Mason ushered me into his office, saying, “You got a chance to chat with Mona, then?”

“Yes. Very impressive! Where did you find her?”

“She is, isn’t she? Believe it or not, she came from a temp agency when I was just getting the business off the ground twenty years ago. Couldn’t believe my luck! She was a single mom raising two boys. We helped her finish college - a BBA with a minor in math. She’s been a huge part of our success.”

Mason gestured toward a chair. “So, how are you getting along?”

He looked impressive in his suit and tie; I hadn’t seen him in full regalia since the party almost two weeks before. I took in the atmosphere of his executive office: nothing fancy, but warm and comfortable as well as functional. It was devoid of ostentation, but looked authoritative, much like its occupant. “The buck stops here” was the feeling it gave.

“Oh, I’m doing okay, thanks,” I said, intentionally ignoring the subject of Anna. “As well as can be expected,” I added despite my resolution.

Mason smiled consolingly and said, “You’ll have Anna back soon. Just a couple more days.” He picked up a folder on his desk.

“The letter was delivered to Anderson’s office this morning. I’ve got a copy here if you want to... Is that what you wanted to see me about?”

“No, not really, but that’s great,” I replied. “I’ll let Andy handle it. No, I was just feeling a bit... well, I miss Anna.” I blushed slightly and looked up from the folder to his face.

“And you, I guess...” I let my voice trail off.

“Oh,” Mason said, getting up from his desk and coming around to my side of it.

“Anna’s doing fine, and you’ll see her soon. We were thinking of having you over for dinner on Friday night and then you can take her home.” He perched himself on the edge of his desk, right in front of me.

“You missed me too?” he asked more softly.

I had been looking at his well-tailored crotch, I realized, and I looked back up to his face.

“Yes,” I said flatly. “You too.”

“I’m flattered, Jack.” He sounded sincere.

“Tell me. How much did you like getting fucked by me?”

“I liked it a lot. It was incredible,” I enthused, “especially last time.”

“I fucked you like a girl, didn’t I? Did it make you feel like a girl?”

“No, it made me feel like a whore, though,” I said, thinking it through, hoping to convey some sense of what I had experienced.

“It felt like you owned me. Like my feelings didn’t matter. Like I was nothing but a cunt to you.”

“And you liked that?”

“Yes,” I said, looking him straight in the eye and blushing, my caged cock throbbing painfully.

“I liked it a lot.”

“That’s amazing!” Mason stood up and reached out and tousled my hair.

“But I do care about your feelings, Jack.” And then he grinned his devious grin.

“Especially if your feelings include liking to be my whore and my cunt!” He chuckled at that.

“You made me cum,” I said softly, longingly, as if by way of explanation.

“And I’ll do it again soon, I promise, Jack,” he said, “But not today. Not while Anna’s fertile.” He looked at me sympathetically.

“I understand,” I said. “Thanks for seeing me anyway.”

“You sound a little pathetic,” he said. “How about you get down on your knees for me?” As in previous occasions, the question held too much authority to sound like a question at all.

I complied, feeling, as I always did, that he knew exactly what I needed. I knelt before him, head bowed. I looked at his polished brogues. I could feel the warmth of his body on my face. He placed his hand on top of my head.

“Do you want to be my whore?” he asked gently.

“Yes, sir,” I answered softly.

“For always?”

“Yes, sir,” I repeated, my heart filling with joy.

“And my cunt?”

My heart fluttered. I loved that he was using my own words against me. “Yes, please, sir.”

“Open my pants, Cunt,” he said with a tenderness that made the crude insult sound like a term of endearment.

I was as diligently compliant as I knew how to be. His belt, the button in front of his trousers, the zipper, all undone.

“Kiss it.”

I brought my lips to the bulge in his boxers, absorbing the scent of his cock and balls. I kissed and breathed in deeply. I was deliriously happy.

“Good boy,” he said, rewarding me with words he seemed to know I treasured.

He grasped the waist of his pants with both hands and, turning around, lowered them and bent forward toward the desk, exposing his firm, muscular ass.

“Do you want to kiss my ass?” he asked, as if there were more than one possible answer.

“Yes, please, sir,” was my grateful response.

“Go ahead,” Mason pronounced, a gracious boon to his unworthy servant.

I immediately kissed the center of his crack, breathing in his anal aroma and pulsing painfully in my cage. I fervently showered kisses all over both of his manly globes before going back to the center and, using my hands to spread his cheeks, I burrowed my face between them and kissed his most private spot.

My lips felt the tight pucker and my tongue came out to play with it, moistening his anal ring with the saliva that his mouth-watering scent had elicited. I kissed the brown hole, sucking at it and licking it slavishly, pressing at its center, hoping to open it a little so I could taste his insides, french-kissing his poop-hole as if it were a lover’s lips.

The pain of my throbbing, thwarted cock confirmed my submissive sycophancy. He wasn’t even my boss yet and I was already kissing his ass!

“Nice, Jackie,” I heard from above, “You’re a good little ass-licker.”

He straightened up, removing his ass from my face, pulled up his pants, and turned around.

“You seem so eager! “ He fastened his pants, standing in front of me, still on my knees.

“Seems like chastity is making you even more submissive. I’m curious; tell me: what do you get out of it?”

I looked up into his face from my subservient kneeling posture.

“I just want to please you ... I want to make you feel good. It’s the idea that I’m giving you pleasure.”

“You were like making fucking love to my asshole!” he said with amazement.

“Hmmm, well, it’s just so intimate. I mean, it’s not like sucking your cock; that’s better - making you cum is ... well, that’s what I really like.” I tried to sort it out; this was all so new: new feelings, new desires.

“But I guess it’s the intimacy—your asshole is so personal and private—and the humility—it’s so degrading. It’s like I want to be degraded. By you, I mean... to be your ass-licker, it’s like being a slave. It should be humiliating, but it makes me... it’s what I want.”

“You continue to amaze, me, Jack.” Mason grinned and ruffled my hair again. It felt just like being his faithful dog.

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A lot happened the next couple of days, including a call from my lawyer approving the deal with Mason’s company, but nothing else that really pertains to this story. Until Friday night.

I arrived at Mason’s at 7:00, as directed, and the three of us had a great meal together. Mason and Anna were in terry-cloth bathrobes, nothing else, and he kept touching her in a very proprietary way the whole time, fondling a breasts or squeezing her thigh.

Every time he touched her, she smiled beatifically, sometimes closing her eyes, or gazing at him. I watched it, the playful intimacy of love, and felt strangely happy and excited, an anticipatory kind of elation at the thought of their impending coupling.

I really wanted to see them joined in the act of copulation; there was a purity in their passion and I wanted to bless it. Could I be a part of it? I wondered. I wanted to, but not if it would distract from the perfection of their mating.

I don’t think I ate very much; I was too engrossed in their romance.

Mason stood when we had finished dessert and, taking Anna’s hand as if she needed help to rise from her chair, said, “Please clear the table, Jack. You can leave everything on the kitchen counter. Then get undressed and join us in the bedroom.”

I hurriedly complied and entered the bedroom to find them seated naked, side by side on the bed.

“Come. Kneel.” Mason pointed to a spot on the rug in front of them.

I placed my knees between Mason’s and Anna’s feet. I didn’t want to choose which of them to look at, so I bowed my head and looked down. It felt right to portray obedience and humility. I looked at their feet, his big, hairy-knuckled toes, and her dainty elegance.

“See?” Mason said to Anna, “I think chastity is making him even more submissive. I think it’s cute. Kind of pathetic, but I like it.”

“I do too,” Anna said. Then to me, she said, “Do you like having your little dickie locked up?”

I looked up at her, my beautiful wife, resplendent in her nakedness. “I don’t know, Anna. I do it for you; that’s what you want, right? If it makes you happy, then it makes me happy.” I thought how pathetic I must look in this position. My eyes welled with tears.

“Except, I also want to have sex with you,” I added.

She looked down on me with a certain amount of sympathy.

“I know you do, sweetie. But it’s not gonna happen. Not ever. That part of our life is over. But it turns me on to know that you want me so desperately and you’re never going to have me.”

“Never?” I asked, and immediately regretted saying it aloud.

“Never, as far as I can see, anyway. How could I settle for you after a week of Mason? I mean, he’s so much better than you!”

Her words were devastating. They sounded so decisively final.

“Don’t look like that, Jack. You’re the one who said it first. You told me he was the better man. You told me I deserved more than you could offer. You gave me to him. What did you expect would happen?”

I hung my head again. “I don’t know ... It just sounds so final. I thought...” I left it unsaid.

“Don’t worry, dear, you can still eat my pussy when I feel like letting you. And you’ll get some relief from time to time. Like how about now?”

Addressing Mason, she said, “Can you unlock him?”

Mason told me to stand and, taking his key, he unlocked my cage and slipped it off. The sensation was amazing; my cock swelled immediately.

“As I said, you will be given relief from time to time,” Anna explained, “and this is one of those times. Now, masturbate for us,” she commanded.

Her tone was so imperious; it was thrilling. My cock sprang to full extension for the first time in over a week. It pulsed with insistent vigor. I grasped the hard shaft in my right hand and, looking into Anna’s eyes, I stroked it up and down. It felt incredible.

“That’s it. Stroke it for me,” Anna said approvingly. “You want sex with me? Well, this is it. You can even cum for me.” She watched intently as I stroked it up and down.

“I want you to cum,” she commanded, “Now!”

I felt my legs quake. My balls contracted. My cock swelled to the point of bursting. And I felt the surge begin deep in my balls.

“Catch it!” Anna directed. “Catch all of it! Don’t spill a drop!”

My first spurt would have hit the ceiling, I’m sure, but I managed to cap the geyser with my left hand just in time.

I shuddered all over ecstatically as my cock pulsed again and again and I angled it forward, pushing it down so that it pumped all my pent up seminal fluid, thick and white, into my cupped hand. As if powered by a source outside myself, the organ kept pumping until my hand was filled to almost overflowing. I felt lightheaded, almost dizzy.

“Eat it. Eat it all up, sissy.” I heard Anna’s voice from afar through a haze of orgasmic bliss.

“Mmmmm,” I couldn’t help but moan as my tongue scooped up globs of my viscous spend into my mouth. It tasted like passion; it felt like a gift.

I squeezed my cock, adding a final dab to the puddle of cum in my hand. I put my lips to it, slurped it all up, and licked my hand clean.

“Mmmmmm.” I looked up at Anna. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

“You’re welcome, sissy,” she said sweetly, repeating the appellation.

I didn’t mind; I knew exactly what she meant. She had emasculated me. She wasn’t saying I was gay; she was just reminding me that I was no longer a man in her eyes. How fitting: it was true. I didn’t mind; sensing that she was pleased with my performance, I was happy and proud.

Mason gave her shoulder a squeeze and said, “Do you want him to do anything else before we fuck? I mean, he’s putty in your hands.”

“Yes,” she said with pleasure. Turning to me, she said, “I understand you’re an ass-licker now too.”

She stood up and turned her backside toward me. “Lick it, cucky!”

I leaned in to taste her, dazzled by the pale beauty of her pearly-white buttocks.

“Wait!” Anna ordered. “Not yet. Mason, would you lock him back up first?”

“Sure. Stand up, Jackie.”

My cock was still a bit swollen, so there was more than a little discomfort in the way Mason had to stuff it back into the tight metal cage. He didn’t say a word.

When I winced, he gave my balls a swift slap that immediately put things in proportion, literally as well as figuratively.

“Back on your knees, ass-slave,” my verbally creative wife commanded. I eagerly obeyed.

She stepped between me and Mason, who was still seated on the bed, she spread her legs, leaned forward, and placed her hands on Mason’s shoulders. She kissed him on the mouth as I leaned in and kissed her at her other end, spreading her glorious orbs to reach her pretty puckered private opening.

I was overcome with lustful humility as my servile lips and tongue tasted her. I could smell her well fucked pussy, redolent with the sexual secretions of both of the lovers as I tasted her sweat and her rectal flesh.

There was as much of Mason as of Anna in my mind as I kissed, as we both kissed the two ends of my beloved’s GI tract. How fitting that I should be at the back, the bottom end! I dug into her sweet anus with my tongue. This was different from Mason’s; it was softer, less hairy and there was with it the omnipresent gynecological scent of womanhood.

Plus, this was my wife: so much less degrading to pleasure her. Except, she was kissing him as I serviced her. And she was going to fuck him, not me. And he was there, present in this act, at the other end of my kisses.

Something else was going on now. I couldn’t see, but Anna was moaning and writhing a little. Was he nibbling on her nipples? Something was happening. And suddenly everything stopped.

“Get on the bed,” Mason said to me. “There in the middle with your head here,” he said, pointing. “On your back.”

As I clambered into the designated position, Mason continued, “Anna and I want you to participate, to be a part of her insemination, if only symbolically. We want you to bless our union by helping us perform this last fuck of Breeding Week.”

I was on my back with my head near the foot of the bed. Anna straddled my head as if she were going to sit on my face, but she went down on her elbows with her ass up.

Her pussy was tantalizingly just out of reach. I could smell its mingled aromas of sex - semen and pussy juice.

I stretched my neck and my tongue and I tasted her. I virtually shuddered with delight. Her pussy tasted so delicious that I wanted to bury my face in it and drown.

“Suck her clit,” I heard Mason say just as his cock appeared, huge and imposing.

It entered Anna’s red and swollen portal, grazing my forehead and dragging those enormous, flopping balls across my eyes, temporarily blocking my sight. I tilted my head back to apply my lips to her engorged clitoris and sucked it into my mouth, sucking it like a tiny cock.

Now I could see again and I witnessed Anna’s lovely labia clinging to the thick cock-shaft as it withdrew from her swampy depths, glistening with her juices. My god, what a magnificent sight!

Mason’s superiority was glaringly, crushingly evident once again. The regal head of his cock came into view. stretching the limits of her vaginal opening, before plunging back inside her, deep, to the root, his balls up against my nose, overwhelming me with both passion and gratitude.

Just to witness the beauty and power of this moment was amazing; to be a participant was an honor of which I felt unworthy.

Anna was whimpering, making quiet cries of ecstasy that served to encourage my efforts as I sucked and fluttered my tongue-tip on her swollen clit. I bit down gently on it and felt her buck in response with a loud moan.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” She cried out, writhing in orgasm.

I took this as an opening, an opportunity to lick Mason’s shaft and taste the flow of Anna’s orgasmic juice that flooded out over his plowing pole and was dripping into my open mouth. My tongue, fully extended now, laved his hanging balls, the salt of his sweat a perfect compliment to the tang of her juices. I was in ecstasy too!

Just to be there at the confluence, the joining point of their perfect bodies made me giddy with delight, and the flavors and aromas made it truly heavenly.

I reached up, around Mason’s thighs and grasped his powerful glutes with both hands, squeezing them as I helped pull him harder and deeper into my wife. And I felt his orgasm begin; I could feel his shaft swell - my tongue was right there, pressing against its underside at Anna’s entrance - and I felt the pulses, one after another, just like when he had cum in my mouth; the same pulses, but their destination this time was deep in Anna’s womb.

I flicked Anna’s clit again with my tongue and sucked it, achieving the desired result, another orgasm. They were cumming together, in perfect synchronicity; they moaned in harmony, sweet music to my ears. Mason was balls-deep in Anna’s pussy. He held it there, resting his full weight against her as she pushed her ass up and back against him. I could see the pulses in his perineum as his cum continued to pump into her womb. And cum - their mingled cum - flooded her pussy to overflowing.

I knew I wasn’t supposed to eat her out during breeding time, but there had been no injunction against drinking of the overflow.

So much cum! It began to seep out around the tight-fitting shaft, whitening the edges of her labia and collecting underneath to drip where my grateful lips received it. I felt fulfilled, as if it had been I who had made this happen, as if I were planting a baby in my wife myself. I savored the moment as I savored their secretions and I kissed their genitals where they joined, really and truly blessing their union.

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The next week was a busy one. We closed on the sale of the business on Monday. By Thursday, I had moved my office to Mason’s building, to the room adjacent to his, and my old office, a four-room suite, had become the headquarters of Anna’s new firm, H4U2 (Housing For You Too).

She moved into the larger room that had been my office and we furnished it with a large sofa in addition to regular office furniture. Ostensibly, this was for her comfort during later stages of pregnancy, but it looked to me like an ideal place for Mason to fuck her.

The three of us had gone out to dinner Monday night to celebrate the merger and we had a lot to drink. Mason ended up spending the night with us and slept between us in our marital bed after fucking us both.

I got to eat his cum out of Anna’s pussy while he fucked me from behind, giving me the anal orgasm I had been craving while I enjoyed what had already become my favorite snack. Then I watched Anna smile approvingly as I collected his cum from my gushing ass-cunt and licked it up. We were very happy.

At work, it was a bit hectic getting everything set up and adapting to it. I was pretty excited about working so close to Mason; when I had a moment’s respite, my mind would turn to him. I had fantasies about being his office slut, his cocksucking assistant, his cum receptacle.

But we were far too busy for anything like that to occur. I spent a lot of time with Mona and hardly any with Mason. Mona went over the books with me, then she gave me business pans to study, followed by training me on the financial modeling software they used.

Meanwhile, Mason was spending more time over at H4U2 with Anna than at his office.

The few times I did interact with Mason that first week were really just passing remarks about settling in, learning the job, and getting H4U2 up and running.

“How is Mona treating you so far?” he wanted to know.

I said she was amazing, so well organized that she had everything I needed ready before I even asked.

Mona was exceedingly competent. She seemed to take a great degree of personal ownership in the running of the company; I could see that my success in this role was going to be entirely dependent on her cooperation on the one hand, but that I might be seen as a threat to her security on the other hand. So I went out of my way to be as deferential as possible, always thanking her and expressing my appreciation for the quality of the documentation and instruction she gave me.

On the home front, things were settling down comfortably enough. I had tried to interest Anna in letting me fuck her with the strap-on, but she wasn’t receptive in the least.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but I just don’t think of you that way any more,” she explained, not without sympathy. We were in bed, and as consolation she let me lick her pussy to orgasm.

“Mmm, thank you, sweetie,” she said when her breathing returned to normal.

“See? That’s what you’re good at,” she purred contentedly. “Leave the fucking to Mason; you know you can’t compete with him.”

I took it as well as I could. I was disappointed, but I couldn’t argue with her; it was true, Mason was much better than I was: his cock was bigger, he had more stamina, he was extremely responsive in their lovemaking, and he was amazingly adept at making her cum.

I was glad that she was getting so much good loving and was so fulfilled; I was also happy that I was allowed to please her with my tongue. I had made her cum too, after all, and isn’t that what it’s all about?

In less serious moments, Anna was often quite playful with me, if you can call it that. She continued to tease me and denigrate me at almost every turn. I’m sure she thought I enjoyed it. The truth is, I often found it painful, but it did excite me, so she wasn’t wrong.

When she called me “cum-slut” or “sissy” or “cocksucker,” I have to admit it gave me thrills, my pulse would quicken and my imprisoned little dick would throb. She never called me by my name anymore, preferring to address me as “cucky,” “bum-boy,” and the like It was becoming so habitual that I was starting to fear she might do it in public.

On Friday, we had another milestone to celebrate. In addition to marking the completion of our office moves, that was the day that Anna’s pregnancy test came out positive.

Mason was ecstatic. We all were. But Mason made a big deal about it, announcing it in the office. The other employees present seemed a bit surprised at his exuberance, but accepted their glasses of champagne with appropriate good spirits.

After work, Mason insisted on taking us out to dinner again; this time at a really posh restaurant. He ordered an expensive bottle of Bordeaux that seemed to impress the waiter, but he told me I couldn’t have any.

“You’re our designated driver,” he said, promising to make it up to me later.

He did let me taste it, though; he held his glass to my lips with a steady hand and said, “Here, I know you want to celebrate our first baby, but just a sip.”

It made me feel like a little kid at the grown-ups’ table, which I know was exactly what he intended. I looked at Anna as I tasted the sip and blushed at her obvious pleasure in my humiliation. I realized that she liked the way Mason made me debase myself in much the same way as she enjoyed verbal abusing me.

After the last course, we ordered coffee, and Mason whispered in my ear, “I want you to go to the men’s room. Take a stall and wait for me.”

As I stood up to comply, he said to Anna, “Jack has to use the little boy’s room. Do you think we should let him go by himself?” I heard her giggle as I walked away.

There was an older gentleman at one of the urinals when I entered, but no one else. I went into the farthest of the three stalls, pushed the door shut without locking it, and stood waiting, feeling both apprehensive and excited.

I heard the man leave the urinal and go to the sink; the water was running when I heard the door open a moment later. Footsteps sounded coming toward my stall and I saw Mason through the narrow space between the door and the stall wall.

The water had stopped running and I heard the door open again; I hoped it was the other man leaving, because Mason didn’t seem to care that he might be seen entering my stall.

“Hey there, sport,” he said after closing the stall door behind him. “Do you want to watch me pee? I know you how much you love my cock.”

“Um, yeah, sure,” I replied, not expecting to be asked; not being sure what to expect.

“I thought you might,” said Mason, opening his belt and unzipping. “You haven’t seen it since Monday.”

He stepped up to the toilet. “Lift the seat for me,” he said.

I got a closeup look at his beautiful cock as he untangled it from his pants it when I stooped to lift the toilet seat. It was hanging loosely, but I wouldn’t say it was soft; rather it looked full and firm, with skin that looked warm and velvety.

He was right, I was in love with it. I was tempted to kneel before it.

As if reading my mind, Mason said, “Why don’t you get on your knees so you can see better.”

That’s what I did. The tile floor was hard, but impeccably clean; only the slightest hint of urine was detectable over the floral deodorizer scent. On my knees for him, in this place, I felt very vulnerable and servile, like a body slave in ancient times.

He released his urine. I watched it flow out in a graceful arc, golden and sparkling in the bright florescent light. It was lovely, I thought. It splashed vigorously into the still water of the toilet, churning it and turning it a pretty pale yellow.

Suddenly, the stream stopped, long before I had expected. I looked up at Mason in surprise.

“Do you want to hold it while I go?” he asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh. Sure. Can I?” was my reply, a little confused, but grateful.

It was a little awkward reaching for his proffered organ, so I had to come closer and lower myself by sitting on my heels as I knelt. I took it in my hand gently, reverent of its warmth, its vitality.

Now I was really up close; I couldn’t help noticing a droplet of piss clinging to the lips of his cockhead.

“Do you want to taste it?” he asked softly. The question echoed loudly in my supplicant brain. Was it a question? Did I have a choice? Did I want a choice?

I chose not to think, but to act on my submissive instincts. My lips touched the little slit and absorbed the droplet in a light kiss. There was a slight taste of salt, but not much else. I licked my lips, trying to find as much of its flavor as I could as I looked up at Mason’s thoughtful face.

“Good boy,” he said. “Do you want more?”

I nodded my head, speechless; I was a little choked up from his words of praise, or was it the thought of the degradation to come? Because suddenly I needed him to feed me from that cock; unexpectedly, I wanted to receive his waste; I wanted his urine inside of me.

I opened my mouth, keeping my lower lip against the underside of his cockhead and looked up expectantly.

It came, warmer than I had expected, warm and smooth. It flowed over my tongue to the back of my throat and I swallowed it, even as more kept flowing and puddled for the next gulp.

I had to swallow again quickly, and again; his piss was flowing fast. I saw that he had his phone out; he was making a video. I opened my mouth wider, tilting my head back, both to show more to the camera and to allow more of his urine to collect in my mouth before each swallow.

The flavor was not strong and it was not bad; it was bitter, kind of acrid in my nose, in addition to the saltiness I had already noted, but mildly so, making it interesting and surprisingly not at all repulsive. It felt good going down; whether that was just a factor of my desire for degradation or the combination of its warmth and slipperiness - it was a just little more viscous than water - I couldn’t tell.

I didn’t care. It was filing my belly in a very satisfying way and I looked up to him in gratitude as his stream began to wane.

I held my mouth open until the flow stopped and he tapped his cock on my lower lip to shake off the last drops. I didn’t move until he had completely withdrawn his cock. Then I smacked my lips, licked them, and swallowed a last time.

“Thank you,” I said with utter sincerity.

When we got back to our table, the waiter was just delivering our coffee. Anna looked up inquiringly and Mason told her, “Check your phone - I sent you something.”

We took our seats and watched her take out her phone and tap it.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed a little too loudly; I saw the waiter glance back as he was leaving our table.

“What a disgusting slut you are,” she said more privately. “Wow, you really like it, don’t you?” She turned the phone so Mason and I could see the final frame.

“Look at that!” she said in tones of wonder. “You look so proud of yourself!” She looked me in the eye and sneered at me.

“Not just a cum-slut. You’re a piss-whore too!” She shook her head.

“I can’t believe it! I’m married to an ass-licking, piss-drinking, fucking cock-whore!”

“He’s a very good boy, you know,” Mason responded, “and he’ll be an excellent father to our children.”

“I know he will,” Anna replied. “God, what a turn-on, though. Let’s finish our coffee and get out of here. I’m horny as hell!”