Subby Hubby and Dommy Mommy by willingwimp
Explore the tantalizing dynamics of 'Subby Hubby and Dommy Mommy' by willingwimp, where desire meets dominance in an erotic journey. Discover thrilling fantasies, intimate bonds, and the allure of submission and control. Perfect for those seeking steamy stories that ignite passion and push boundaries.<br/>
Explore the thrilling dynamics of power and desire in ‘Subby Hubby and Dommy Mommy’ by willingwimp. Dive into a world where pleasure meets submission and boundaries are beautifully blurred. Indulge your fantasies and discover the intoxicating journey of a husband who surrenders to his wife’s dominant embrace.
Uncover the secrets of passion and power play today!
Please rate according to quality of writing and story not because you don’t like the subject, which is indicated in the tags , I might be the luckiest man on the planet. I was born an only child to a family of great wealth, I have all the things money can buy, and the most beautiful wife in the world who I love, worship and adore with all my heart and soul.
She is literally a beauty queen who won competitions in one of the largest states in America for her statuesque, fit but voluptuous body, cascading golden hair, and a face that could launch a thousand ships.
My wife would never have noticed me, as I am hardly a specimen of masculinity, except that I was persistent in my pursuit of her, which consisted of constantly showering her with gifts, a Ferrari, a thoroughbred horse, diamonds and rubies, and use of my private jet to go on shopping junkets to the far corners of the Earth, until finally she consented to be my wife.
When I say she would hardly have noticed me that is partly because I am actually about 3 inches shorter than her, but it seems like 6 inches because she always wears at least 3 inch heels.
I have always been attracted to strong, muscular women who exude not only sexual power but physical power as well. I never regarded myself as worthy of my beauty queen wife. I know that she could have handsome, well-built men and that they would do a better job of sexually satisfying her than I could ever imagine doing. On the other hand, I always put her on a pedestal, wanting to worship her, to serve her, to do whatever I could to please her.
My wife is very good to me.
Even though I am a sniveling little wimp, she shows a lot of tolerance for me. Just to show how understanding she can be, even though she is a beautiful young woman who has never had a child, and is not in the least bit maternal in appearance or personality, she allows me to call her Mommy, and lets me pretend to be her little boy.
Mommy’s sexual power brings out my subservient side.
Even though I can easily afford to hire servants, I want nothing more than to wait on Mommy myself, hand and foot. I love to buff and rub her heels, arches, and toes, to dissolve any trace of hardness in her skin and restore its pink softness. The soft crevasses nestled between each toe are one of many secret delights that the heavenly treasure of her body holds for me, a perfect fit for the tip of my tongue. I bathe her toes with my tongue. I am her kitten, licking, cleaning, purring.
I love the instep of Mommy’s foot, the very last extremity of her perfect body that she is willing to share with one so unworthy as myself. She honors me by allowing me to be her footstool, as I lie at her feet and she rests them on my face.
After I massage her feet, I sometimes lie on my tummy on the floor concentrating fully on dipping the little brush in the red enamel as I paint her toenails. I make sure that no stray strand blemishes the perfect skin of her toe.
I lightly blow on her toes to dry them, before adding a second coat to her toenails. She says not a word. I feel invisible. Even though I am wealthy, I love working and slaving for her. I am happy to work hard, to work long hours cleaning her bathroom, washing her silky little underthings. She does no work at all, not in the mansion, not outside. Her life revolves around country club memberships, private lessons, horseback riding, exotic vacations, designer clothes.
Only the best for my trophy wife.
Although Mommy was already a crowned beauty queen, she wanted more, and so I paid for plastic surgery, getting her a set of breasts that are nothing short of spectacular, as well as enhancements to her lips and cheeks. I love Mommy’s breasts. She does not need a bra, though sometimes she wears one just to accentuate the swell of her melons. Her breasts are the best money can buy. They are magnificent. My mouth waters at the sight of them.
They are gorgeous naked and free.They are super sexy bursting forth from a too-small string bikini top. They are enough to seduce and drive any man wild when she leans forward in a low-cut blouse, and her mouth-watering mounds heave, swell and beckon. Her breasts make me want to shrink to be her Tom Thumb, a naked, little mouse-sized pet. I fantasize about living nestled between Mommy’s breasts, always feeling her warmth against my skin.
I would gladly suffocate enjoying Mommy’s flesh with my last breath.
I love and adore Mommy’s derriere. Sometimes, if I’ve been a very good little boy or given her a particularly nice and expensive present, she lets me kneel behind her as she stands in her high heels. I marvel at her roundness, the perfect plumpness of her cheeks accentuated by her smooth, muscled legs and waist.
On my knees behind her, my hands run up her gorgeous legs, trace the crease where the back of the thigh meets the swell of her bottom. Then, after I beg long enough, she allows me fondle her bottom. I rub my face on her glutie globes. I beg some more, offer her nice presents, and if she is in a tolerant mood, Mommy lets me suck her succulent bottom meat. I suck her ass cheeks until I become dizzy with desire.
I plunge my nose as deep as I can into the cleft of Mommy’s bottom, penetrating her tight puckered nether hole with my tongue. This is the only way Mommy allows me to penetrate any part of her body, my tongue embedded in her succulent bottom.
Mommy is quite an exhibitionist and loves the attention she gets from men, and, truth be told, from women as well. I confess that I love watching men staring hungrily at her. It fills me with pride.
I watch their eyes dip down her blouse, lighting up as they gaze upon her breasts. I watch their heads turn as she walks by, seeing them follow the sway of her hips, the shape of her legs, the the movement of her derriere. I love her power over men. I love her power over me.
Mommy dresses to accentuate her sexual power.
One day she will wear skin tight, translucent hip-riding spandex pants that form fit over her delicious derriere and “camel toe” pussy lips, and a tight corset-style top that pushes her mountainous breasts up and exposes her waist, showing off her bejeweled belly button.
Other days, she will wear loose-fitting diaphanous halter tops and skirts through which you can see her long, shapely legs and the swing of her marvelous breasts.
Mommy learned early on in our marriage that I need to be punished when I misbehave, and, as it turns out she frequently catches me doing naughty things like masturbating as I sniff or wear her dirty panties. This often happens when I am cleaning up after her. She leaves her soiled panties on the floor for me. A gift. A treasure.