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Sisters aren't so different.
Dale flopped himself down on the love seat again and looked at Mike.
"Can I make some requests of her?" He asked hopefully
"It's your dime buddy, no marks on my property though." Mike replied, smiling.
I was humiliated, being talked about like a boat or golf clubs. I had never seen Mike take such an interest in me, even though it was perverse and intended to control me. That thought gave way to a new one. I wanted to please him, get back into his good graces. I was desperate for his approval. That desperation was manifesting itself physically on me as well.
I looked at the man I married in a different light. He wished to really control me and, God help me, I wanted him to do just that.
"Please sir," looking directly at Mike, "I want to please you, let me try."
Mike let out an audible chuckle, "well, well, well, look who is having a change in heart. I think you are seeing the situation you are really in. Good, very good. Now, Dale is expecting enthusiastic action from you and you are going to give it, aren't you, slut?"
I hung my head in a show of mock shame, as the moist warmth between my legs called me a liar. If Mike wanted me as his personal slut, I would do that. I looked at Dale sitting on the love seat, waiting for my first motion.
"Would you like to see what I have been teasing you with all these years, Dale dear?" I asked brazenly.
He swallowed hard, obviously caught off guard by my change of demeanor. "Y-Y-y-yes," he stammered quietly
I looked again to Mike to confirm that I was doing what he, in fact wanted of me. His look said it all. With that confirmation I turned my attention back to and fully on Dale. Reaching under my left arm I deftly found the zipper to the dress. While moving between his knees I pull the zipper down seductively. I hiked up the hem of the dress, while the top loosely clung to my full, firm breasts. With my dress high enough I straddled Dales lap, resting my already wet pussy over his twitching bulge.
Dale reached for my dress hem and roughly pulled it over my head. I was now completely nude, save my 4 inch heeled sandals. In a flash Dale's hands were on me, per Mike's instructions, I made a show of gyrating and moaning for him.
"God you are a slut," Dale breathed, "I can't believe I finally get a chance at this hot body. I hope you love to suck cock as much you seemed to on TV."
I knew what Mike wanted; I could see him from the corner of my eye. He was adjusting the focus on the camera, hanging on my every word. I saw him openly rub his crotch as I ground myself on his friend.
"My husband wants a good slut for a wife, and a good slut loves to suck cock." I replied. I was pleased by the wide smile that flashed across my husband face.
In physical response to the question, I lifted myself off of Dale and dropped to my knees. He sat there, hands behind his head, and grinning. There was a pronounced wet spot I had left on the front of his trousers. I positioned myself between his legs and began to lick and nuzzle his still clad crotch. I tasted of aftershave and me. I amazed myself at how damp I made him.
He soon grew tired of this and had me remove his pants and underwear.
His cock was, admittedly, very thick and heavily veined. He told me to suck wetly as he made lewd comments about my big hanging breasts. The more I sucked his cock the wetter he wanted it. When he was finally satisfied he positioned me chest high to his cock and informed me he wanted to use my breasts to get off.
I was told to wrap his cock in my breasts and slide up and down. Unfortunately there was still too much friction, so Dale had me hold my breasts up and he proceeded to spit saliva all over them. I was amazed how aroused I was from this degrading display. Mike seemed to be enjoying it too, as I heard him moaning from his chair.
Once Dale was happy with my situation he had me resume.
"Now that's more like it," he sighed, "I always thought your tits looked good but they are so much better covered in spit with my cock between them."
The humiliation was burning inside me a