Cucked Pleasure Cruise

My nails dug into his shoulder as I slid myself firmly all the way down his cock, a sinful anchor. The cruise liner swayed heftily, threatening to toss me from the narrow bunk. A low moan came from the opposite bunk in the low-lit cabin, the moon reflecting off the waves and through the single window. Sensual silhouettes which became momentarily illuminated lovers threatened to overwhelm our cucked cabin companion.

Burying my face in my man’s neck helped muffle the throaty laugh which threatened to erupt at our slave’s exquisitely unique, pleasurable pain. Plus, it gave me the opportunity to raise my hips up, then shudder in delight as I slid down my man’s solid length once again.

This was certainly not a fuck I’d forget in a hurry, I thought, as his hips rose to meet mine, causing him to penetrate me to the fullest extent. My gasp was cruelly audible. I revelled in the wantonness as I ground down on his impatient cock; rampant fucking in a moonlit cabin less than a metre away from our deliciously frustrated slave.

My man’s orgasm was close, I could sense it. Time seemed to slow within the cabin, the tension and need emanating from him as persistently as the ocean’s waves against the vessel, sending us this way and that. I clung to him and drove myself down on him, angling myself to savour every rapturous ounce of friction. We were both coated with the passion of the sex; watched sex, envied sex, denied sex. Audible, visual, merciless. The scent of our rutting permeated every inch of the small cabin and allowed our, no doubt delirious, cuck no hope of escaping the moment. Bound by the locked door, but more so by loyalty, and the thrill of denied desires.

I cried out in the semi-darkness as he drove into me again, a tight mutual grip to maintain balance while I threw my head back and lost myself in this fleeting eternity. His cock at its most urgent, enormous inside my slick tightness, pulsing with his barely contained torrent. Then with a low grunt then a telling groan, one final thrust inside relieved him of that temporary frustration, flooding me with his hot, thick spunk.

Cradling his body with mine atop him, my knees flush against his sides and sat down deep on his pulsating, not-yet-recovered cock, we forgot everything else in that brief, post-coital tranquil. The swaying of the ship seemed simply residual passion lingering in our senses, as I lay there on his chest, zoning out to his elevated heartbeat; he, eyes closed, arms and legs akimbo, spent.

A few minutes of recovery, and we became reacquainted with reality. That we were not alone, as the raggedly drawn breaths from the opposite bunk testified. It must have been some feat for slave not to orgasm himself, from the sight, sounds, smell… his fantasy becoming a cruel and unyielding reality. I knew he hadn’t, thought. Wouldn’t dare. More than his life’s worth. Good slave.

Time for his reward.

I could sense the apprehension, mingled with excitement, as I knelt down on all fours in the small space between the cabin’s bunks. His fear nourished me.

“Come. Clean me.”

Being centred between those two poles of manhood, and sensing their response to my demand, was intoxicating. I didn’t have to look to know that my man would be sporting a wickedly amused grin, while our cucked slave would be torn between disbelief, disgust, and a deeply-rooted, perverse need. No escape.

As if in slow motion, we assumed our new positions. The slave moving behind me, fumbling, as if not really sure this was actually happening –or going to happen. My man, now recovered from his first orgasm, sitting up on our bunk placing his feet on the floor, one to either side of my kneeling form. I used his ankles as support as I waggled my arse in slave’s direction, impatient for his obedience.

“Hurry up, slave. Don’t let it escape.”

“Mistress…”

One word, and the weight of its meaning made me smile. Mistress… do I have to? Mistress… I don’t want to…

Mistress. Of course I am going to obey.

His unwilling, hungry tongue met my spunk-slathered cunt tentatively, a dramatic contrast to my dominant man. He, meanwhile, had deliberately waited until that very moment to roughly wrap my loose hair round his fingers and push my face down on his reawakened cock. Instinct took over; my lips parted to receive his pussy-slicked length all the way to the back of my throat, just as my lower lips parted to receive slave’s obediently cleansing tongue.

The ship lurched on a particularly violent wave, thrusting me forwards so the tip of his cock was forced beyond the opening of my throat. I automatically swallowed, while he groaned joyfully above me, his cock simply growing even firmer as I spluttered and gagged on it. The slave’s tongue had lost connection with my barely tasted, cum-spattered pussy -but as the ship righted itself, I was pushed backwards on to his waiting face.

Unable to touch his Mistress, to support himself with anything but his hands on the edge of the bunk, I felt his nose and open mouth mashed uncontrollably against my parted, cream coated labia. The thrill of the sensation made me to seep a generous amount of hot creampie directly onto him.

He had no choice but to attempt to ingest as much of it as possible, then to move back slightly and continue the enforced tongue-bath for his Mistress. He’d just had to swallow a large amount of my man’s cum, mixed with my own arousal fluids, and the thought was making me leak so much I knew it would be difficult for him to keep up.

Dragged forwards by my hair I was forced back to attending my man’s cock once more. He wasn’t done with me yet and was letting me know in no uncertain terms. That insatiable cock pulsed in my mouth, my lips and cheeks expertly wrapped around his length while his hands round my head forced his tip to beat against my gagging throat. Tangy fluids escaped him and coated my throat, then mixed with my saliva on the out-stroke to lubricate another heavy, deep thrust.

I was leaking copiously now, despite being unsure there was any of his cum left deposited in me. Being orally attended to by our slave while forced to suck my man’s greedy cock was sailing me towards an unavoidable destination. Taut tingling suffused my clit, activating each of my erogenous zones in turn. Relentless heat rose through my body, the need rolling along with it; from deep inside my tongue-bathed pussy, up through the pit of my stomach, grasping both my hardened nipples and uniting in my cock-battered throat.

The juddering tremble of my thighs and the arch of my back were the only discernible warning; my whimpering around his cock in my mouth rose in pitch, but then he was fucking my mouth frenziedly. His exposed frenulum pushed back through my firm lips to the suction of my hot, wet mouth, his tip driving down, forcing beyond the confines of my throat just as slave’s tongue delved deeper then slipped out to circle gently round my silently-screaming clit. And I was gone.

Silence but for the rush of blood through my mind, nothing existing but the sensation of my orgasm bubbling to its explosive fruition, struggling valiantly, as always, to stretch those perfect few seconds of pleasure. Surrendering to its all-encompassing hold over me, mind and body, letting dignity fall as my body shuddered violently while the orgasm ripped through me. Wailing it out on his cock, forgetting where we were, forgetting the existence of other people, forgetting everything but the feeling.

Then he, swept up in my orgasmic throes, grew to his fullest in my abused mouth while pulling my head fully on to him. Held there for just a moment, in my post-orgasmic daze, the tip of his cock twitching against my automatically swallowing throat, those movements triggering his own explosion. The tell-tale deep groan from above as my throat became awash with his hot seed ejaculated into me. Bypassing my lips, tongue and teeth to funnel directly into my stomach.

It took all of my expertise not to choke on the tide, to surrender rather than fight. After what seemed like forever, the flow slowed enough for me to take a breath, and his fingers relaxed then loosed their grip on my hair completely. He lay back on the bed -and I realised slave had completed his tongue-bath of me as best he could, considering the torturous and turbulent circumstances.

“Good slave. You may sleep now, if you can.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

There would be time enough tomorrow to discover and dwell on the emotion brewing behind those four words. I shakily climbed back up on the bunk, got myself snug and comfortable next to my man, and let myself drift into a contented sleep.