Cum Sponge

Anal

After my divorce I lived with my son until he asked me if his friend Carl could move in temporarily. Carl’s parents were getting divorced and it was a difficult time for a young man in his early twenties.

Carl moved into the spare room, rent free, and mostly it worked fine. I would come in from work and make tea for us all and then wash up whilst the boys played on the play station or their laptops.

Carl was great company for my son and I enjoyed watching them have fun. The only thing I found difficult was the way Carl seemed to take my hospitality and home for granted. It’s not that I particularly wanted or expected gratitude, it just felt a little insulting how he would traipse his muddy shoes through the hallway or leave a trail of spilt coffee as he wandered from the kitchen to the lounge. Over time, small things became irritants; his urinating on the toilet seat, the boys leaving their empty lager cans and plates for me to clean up in the morning, the expectation that I would do all the washing and ironing without any thanks.

I put Carl’s ignorant behaviour down to his difficult time and I never approached Carl as I felt it was important for him to have a home, albeit temporary, where he could relax, be himself and avoid the tensions of his family situation.

My fetish, which I still don’t understand, began one morning before work, when I was in Carl’s bedroom stripping his bed. I was wearing my work sweater which has ¾ length sleeves. I had pulled the sheets off and was carrying them down to the washer when I felt a cold gooey substance drip onto my wrist and slide down my naked fore-arm. Peering over the bundle of linen, I saw a glistening trail meandering over my matted forearm hairs down to a pool of coagulating cum that was collecting between my sweater sleeve and the flesh of my fore-arm.

I dumped the bedding in the washer and yanked my dirty sweater over my head to add it to the washing when I got a strong scent of Carl’s musky spunk.

I’m still not sure what made me do this, but instead of wiping Carl’s cum off my arm with some kitchen roll, I stood their in my bra and work pants and actually licked his cum off my naked arm. I even found the sleeve of my sweater with the cum stain on it and sucked it clean with one hand down my pants, stroking my clitoris.

All that day my pussy tingled at the memory of what I had done. I could taste Carl’s cum in my mouth all morning as I tried desperately to understand my strange behaviour. It wasn’t that I was attracted to Carl, at 24 he was more than half my age. It was somehow linked to his general indifference to all the things I did for him. It was incredibly arousing to think that Carl knew it was bed change day and had deliberately left his cum for me to have to clean up. The idea of Carl just expecting me to clean up his cum whenever he chose to masturbate, as though it was my duty to be his cum sponge was somehow thrillingly humiliating. The fact that Carl didn’t even acknowledge me as a sexual being, made it even more arousing as if he saw my role as simply to clean up his cum. I’m not saying Carl had any of these thoughts, in fact I doubt he even cared whether I had to touch his cum or not as long as his bed was beautifully made as usual.

But that casino siteleri one moment, standing in my kitchen, lapping Carl’s cum off my fore arm, sparked a bizarre fetish deep within me. I started getting aroused when Carl took my waiting on him for granted and this perversely made me want to do more and more for him. Now I loved it when he spilt his coffee on my carpet because it meant I had to scrub it clean because of Carl. I started asking him what his favourite meals were and spent hours preparing them for him, knowing I wouldn’t even get a thank you. I actively longed for opportunities to be used by him, so when he came in one day saying his feet were tired I immediately offered him a foot massage. Carl just lay on the sofa, playing on the play station with my son as I dutifully rubbed his feet for hours. That night I came so hard thinking of how Carl had ignored me the whole time.

I started searching his bedding for fresh loads of cum and I was always aroused whenever I managed to find a globule of cum left for me to clean up. I even searched his boxer shorts in the hope he had cum inside them. It became almost an obsession when I did chance on a fresh pool of his gooey spunk I’d smear it over my most expensive cashmere sweaters or silk underwear, aroused beyond belief at the hours of extra hand washing Carl’s cum would cause me.

Carl obviously had no idea that I was his secret cum sponge, but my increasing indulgence of his every whim had the gorgeous affect that he took me and my house for granted even more.

I think the most humiliating and arousing moment during this period was one morning when I found the toilet reeking, shit stained and with Carl’s piss splattered all over the seat. Carl hadn’t even had the decency to wipe the toilet seat, and why would he, when I fawned over him with ne’er a complaint. I had my skirt hitched up in seconds and before I could even realise what I was doing, I actually knelt before the toilet and brought myself to a climax as I lapped up Carl’s piss with my tongue.

Carl was a trainee mechanic and was fixing up an old car. I told him to use my drive so that I had to park on the street and I had several weeks of having to cook and clean around filthy engine parts and scrubbing engine oil out of my carpets.

The next significant moment came when Carl said he was ready to road test his car and in my now usual desperate way of indulging Carl at my own expense, I suggested I should hold a celebratory barbeque on his road test day.

The day before the infamous road test a parcel arrived for Carl. When I handed it to him, Carl told me he had bought me an outfit for the day and that I owed him $80. I was so stunned by his audacity and I think, because I really wanted his text drive day to be fabulous for him, I just smiled, thanked him and paid up.

So, the morning of the test drive arrived and Carl invited about 30 people over, our neighbours, friends, and unbeknown to me, my ex husband and his latest slut of a girlfriend.

The boys sat in the sun chatting whilst I scurried about setting up the barbeque, the seats, making sure we had plates etc. Then, nonchalantly looking at his watch, Carl made the most simplest of statements:

“Ally, get into your outfit!” I was stunned. slot oyna Carl had just given me an order, and by his tone, he clearly simply expected me to obey. My months of dedicated servitude had turned me into someone Carl could command at whim in his view. With my pussy dripping at Carl’s command I gave him a cute curtsy and rushed upstairs to obey.

When I opened the box I was mortified. He had bought me a ‘red hot flag girl’ fantasy costume. It was literally a red bra, matching mini skirt, G-String and a chequered rag. I think my body has done pretty well over the years, but any 52 year old body shouldn’t be seen in such a skimpy outfit. Reticently I stripped and changed into the outfit. It was hideous, my middle aged paunch was fully exposed between the bra and the mini-skirt. My short, plump legs were equally naked and on show. Sure, my breasts looked good in the bra, but the overall image was disgustingly ‘mutton dressed as lamb’. I was cussing Carl’s insensitivity and ignorance in choosing an outfit with clearly not a single thought for how I would feel and deciding not to wear it, when the whole notion simply made me practically cum on the spot. I frantically stroked my pussy and climaxed in seconds at the thought of humiliating myself like this just because Carl wanted me to.

I’m quite a reserved girl, and it took a great deal of determination to walk back outside dressed like a whore, but I did it, blushing and squirming as I did so. The boys burst out laughing when they saw me and had a private joke at my expense. I focused on the barbeque to hide my embarrassment and had to endure the utter humiliation of serving all the guests their hotdogs and hamburgers as a ‘red hot flag girl.’

At best I got looked up and down by close friends and neighbours, at worst I got comments like ‘forgot your clothes, Ally?’ or ‘nice outfit’ said with innuendo or sarcasm. I blushed and smiled my way through, grateful for the distraction of the role as hostess. But the absolute pinnacle of humiliation was serving my ex husband and his latest slut their food. I smiled sweetly and I asked them what they would like to eat as my ex husband stated as a matter-of fact that it looked like I’d enjoyed a good few burgers over the years. His new slut actually looked me up and down and said “You’re right, she is porky!” Most degrading of all was when I handed her a hamburger and serviette and smirking at me she told him, “No wonder you had to fuck other women, poor pet!”

I could have curled up and died it was so degrading. I hated the whole day from then on, everyone clearly talking about me in small groups, men I had known for years as friends leering at my exposed body as I went round serving drinks, standing with my rag to start the race, the centre of attention for everyone. Crl’s car worked like a dream. I was so pleased for him.

Eventually people started leaving I tidied up, obviously the boys were back on the play station, and eventually collapsed into bed at about 11pm. As I lay reliving the horror of the day, the memories somehow morphed into a sexualised version of events and yet again my fingers were in my sopping wet pussy as I relived the humiliation I had experienced as a result of Carl’s indifference.

Carl stayed with us for a few months canlı casino siteleri I thrilled every time he left a load of cum in his bed, even in a sock a few times. I used his spunk as lube to masturbate my pussy with and even wore his spunk in my hair one day, but nothing else really happened.

But the fantasies I have had since Carl left for college have had me practically constantly aroused.

I imagine Carl knowing about my need for his cum and his finding it amusing. We’re sitting watching TV when Carl unzips his jeans and starts stroking his cock, oblivious of my presence. He strokes for a while and then gives me a faint nod for me to kneel before him. I scurry to obey and Carl jerks his cock until he spurts it onto my hairline, into my eye and mouth. Then as I kneel with is cum dripping down my face he just zips up his jeans and carries on watching TV.

I’m so aroused that I take off my clothes and fuck myself with a dildo, rubbing his spunk into my body. The smell of my arousal fills the room and I desperately hump my dildo, all the while Carl just ignores me and watches TV. Just as I’m about to climax, Carl says ‘fetch me a lager, Ally’ and I have to stop on the cusp of an orgasm and fetch him a lager with my thighs trembling with pre-orgasmic spasms. My complete servitude is the price of receiving his fresh loads of cum and he finds my need for his cum hilarious. I lie back down and ram the dildo up my desperate pussy only to be stopped again by Carl saying ‘piss time, Ally’. I rush over for my basket of clean and neatly ironed clothes and then kneel before him. I gently take out his flaccid penis and leaning over the basket, I aim his penis at my face. The stream of hot piss splatters my face, stinging my eyes and splatters my clothes and the carpet. Most of it pours down my soaked face onto my clean laundry. Once he is done I wipe him clean with my pony tail and gently put his penis back in his pants. I again lie back, my podgy thighs splayed apart and fuck myself with the dildo until I climax dripping in Carl’s piss.

I’ve fantasised about Carl coming home drunk and simply using my sleeping face to splat with cum so that I wake up in the morning with my face all crusty with Carl’s spunk. Or finding my toothbrush covered in his cum, or the toilet seat because Carl knows I will lick it up.

I think because of the road test event, I have a fantasy where Carl comes back from College and has collected a whole pint of his cum for me. I have to pay $5 per load and it comes to $800. Carl organises ‘Ally’s cum drinking night’ and everyone turns up. I have to wear the ‘red hot flag girl’ costume and dance for everyone as they humiliatingly score my dancing and different parts of my body.

Then Carl presents me with the pint glass of cum and everyone begins a countdown like at New Year and I have to drink the full pint as they all watch and take photos. The humiliation of everyone knowing about my fetish and that I am so desperate that I paid $800 is excruciating. Worst of all is my ex-husbands new slut who smirks right through it and then orders me to show how aroused I am by masturbating publicly. She directs me, making me finger my own ass and taste it, even hump her leg as she sits cuddling my ex husband. She even pushes the toe of her shoe up my pussy and I climax on her shoe as she looks at me with disgust.

Just the thought that anyone reading this knows about my fetish is really, really exciting. I hope you enjoyed it.

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