Cuckold phone sex stories

Miss Erin's Homecoming Pt. 01

by Ajax

07/31/2016 23:33 in oral


Alex sat outside the airport in Erin's black BMW, doing what he had become quite accustomed to over the past year. Waiting.

Waiting, as it turns out, had become something of a specialty for him. Erin made him wait for sex, even before all of this. She played demure, but Alex knew better now. She made him wait before every date they went on. She played overly effeminate, but Alex knew better now. She made him wait before closing the lock on his CB-6000S for the first time. She played unsure, but Alex knew better now. She was just controlling him in a different way, each of those times.

Four weeks now, counting the week she's spent away. Four weeks of waiting. Four weeks straight locked in his CB-6000S with not even a mention of release.

His eyes wandered, only for a moment from the doors of the departures exit to a happy couple walking hand-in-hand past the car. She looked up at him adoringly, he squeezed her close with a powerful arm. Alex's cock pushed against its prison as she looked up at him with big doe eyes and her short skirt billowed in the breeze. Her mannerisms were so like Erin's when they first started dating. The exuberant lovers moved on. He groaned, and waited.

There was no reprieve for his locked up twig when Erin emerged from the terminal.

A flight attendant may not seem immediately like the occupation of a truly dominant woman. But Erin certainly made the most of it. Sure, the passengers were grabby and rude, but she just leaned into their attentions. She cooed sweetly as men touched her ass, packed into the tight uniform skirt. She smiled and slapped hands away playfully as they brushed against her thigh and up along her cleavage, threatening to bust her uniform blouse at the buttons. Always sweet in her admonishment to her passengers and her simpering submissive at home.

But who could blame someone for trying to take liberties with a stewardess who looked like her? As she emerged from the terminal, Alex took a long look at his sweet, lustful tormentress. Her long, updone blonde hair had little hints of dirtiness in it. It served as a microcosm for the affectionate disregard with which she treated her chaste boyfriend. Her big, chestnut eyes searched the horizon for her familiar black BMW M3, a gift for her two-year anniversary with Alex. Her thick, pink-painted lips parted slightly to inhale the fresh, unrecycled air for the first time in hours. As Alex stepped out of the car, he observed the way she moved in this new, enhanced uniform of hers. Brock is such an innovator.

A snug white blouse barely contained her firm, ample breasts. It was tucked into a tight black latex hobble skirt that gave way to thigh-high stockings covering her toned thighs and calves. This personification of sex incarnate was perched atop five-inch black leather platform heels that extended her natural height of 5'9" to a towering 6'2", easily dwarfing her 6'0" boyfriend. In one hand she carried a jacket, in the other a severe-looking briefcase, the potential contents of which made Alex tremble with fear and excitement. She towed her roller bag along and happily waved when she saw her car. Her blood-red lips curled into a satisfied smile and she cocked her head to the side, the little latex cap not moving an inch. Pinned to her updone hair.

Alex groaned as he moved a little too quickly to her side. A rash move, considering the way his cock was churning in its plastic prison below. The little prick made another valiant attempt against its cage, only to be thwarted by the hard tube that forced it, perpetually, downward. Alex sighed at the discomfort but still rushed to his owner's side, reaching for her bag, jacket, and briefcase. She handed the first two to him and pulled the latter away, with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye: "No, little boy."

The first words either of them said to each other after a week apart. Fitting.

Alex popped the trunk and opened the door to the passenger seat of the car. She slid into the leather seat comfortably, her latex skirt squeaking a bit at the contact with the other pristinely-shined black surface. Alex carefully placed her luggage and jacket into the trunk and went around to close her door and get into the driver's seat. As he put the car in gear and drove away from the terminal, Miss Erin was already buried in her phone, giggling at text messages that had pinged her while she was flying.

Tactfully, Alex pulled onto the highway to head home, listening and observing his girlfriend's actions until there was a lull in her texting to finally speak his first words to her. "Did you enjoy your trip, Miss?"

Erin smiled and set her phone in her lap, looking forward down the road. She took a deep breath, finished with a curt nod. "I did," she smiled, then turned toward Alex. "Paris was lovely, and Pierre was such a good host for me. He showed me the most romantic places, Alex. He even took me on a ride down the Seine on his boat!" She giggled, reaching over and putting her hand on his thigh, stroking them up toward his crotch. She watched his eyes as she glanced her fingertips along the hard plastic covering her boyfriend's cock, rendered inept for four weeks now.

Alex tried to focus on the road in front of him. Look, there's the jazz museum, on the left, he tried to force into his head. Erin's words pervaded his thoughts. Oh, and on the right, there's the first place you drove your girlfriend to get fucked by another man. He whined as that thought entered his head at the same time his girlfriend's hand landed on his thigh. He could feel her eyes on him, and knew he needed to respond appropriately. He opened his lips and a soft, pained moan escaped. Not that it was any great stretch for him to emit such a noise. That one, in particular, was becoming all too familiar for him.

"Pierre also gave me a little gift to take back with me on the plane," she smirked as her hand fully wrapped around the locked member. With her other hand, she opened up the mysterious briefcase and removed a remote, switching it on and beginning to writhe ever so slightly in her seat. She moaned, watching Alex the entire time, squeezing his balls in concert with her own pleasure. With a soft whimper, she twisted his balls to one side to get his attention before happily letting him know, "I used it three times on the plane. I just can't seem to stop cumming! I don't know how you can stand being locked up for so long, boy."

Of course the first mention of his current sentence came with an intense tease, and no mention of release for him.

Alex groaned and pushed his hips up to her touch, but stayed focused on the road in front of him. Driving her home while she pleasured herself was just another in the long line of sweetly humiliating tasks his girlfriend had set out for him. His ears burned with her whimpers and moans, the soft squeak of latex against leather as she pushed and twisted her ass in the seat. Each wriggle accompanied by a corresponding squeeze of his useless nutsack.

Eventually, her soft squeezes and twists turned to desperate grasps. She flipped the remote up to its highest speed and dropped it, grabbing the 'Oh, shit' bar above her door and fittingly exclaiming its name in a shrill, needy voice. Pressing herself hard against the seat, using Alex's cock and the handle as leverage, she let out a thunderous moan as the orgasm tore through her body, sending wave after wave of pure pleasure through her body. She shuddered, continuing to grip Alex's cock until she was fully spent.

Alex carried a sheen of sweat. Erin's grip on his cock had turned uncomfortable minutes ago, but he dare not complain. Interrupting one of his girlfriend's orgasms was one of the few things he could do to truly enrage her. She wasn't a mean-spirited person, but if Alex got in the way of her pleasure, she could turn on a dime.

Brock, on the other hand, was a tyrant. Brock, Alex thought. I almost forgot. He looked over at his girlfriend, who was slowly coming down from her climax with a satisfied smile on her face. She reached for her phone again after a minute.

"I've made reservations for you and Br..." Alex started.

"Quiet, sweetie, it's from Brock," Right on cue. Alex's blood ran cold as his girlfriend's attention was easily diverted by the man that had orchestrated his downfall.

Brock Conway was hired by the airline about seven months ago to shape up the flight attendant staff. They had become drab and uninteresting, and, like everything else with Mile High airlines, had become a non-factor in differentiating them from their competitors. Brock had ideas that were too lewd for the larger airlines, but Mile High was desperate.

He was a mountain of a man, standing at 6'4" and built on a solid frame crafted by consistent time in the weight room of the gym. His cardio work, however, came from his time in the break room, the restroom, and even the bedroom with his star employee. Erin. Of course, there was no shortage of cardio that he got from yelling at and berating her simpering, chastised boyfriend for the most minor inconveniences. Even in her tallest heels, he still lorded over her with his imposing figure. The thought of it made Erin squeeze her thighs together happily, and Alex quiver in fear at the ever-present threat. Whenever he would whine or complain about one of his multiple, menial tasks a side comment from Erin, asking if they should call Brock about this quickly diffused the subbie's reluctance.

Seven months ago, Brock had entered Erin's life. Six months ago, she started keeping Alex in chastity. At the time, he thought nothing of the correlation. Now, it was all he could think about. She put down her phone with a wry smirk on her face and looked over at Alex.

"Now, what were you about to prattle on about, little guy?" She asked sweetly.

"I made reservations for you and Broke at Bistro Modello tonight, Miss Erin," said Alex, still somewhat dazed from Erin's treatment of his cock.

Erin leaned over and in a surprise move, kissed her boyfriend's cheek. "Oh, that's so sweet of you, cucky! That's where we had our first date, and it's my seven month anniversary of ... working under Brock!" She was immediately back on her phone, texting with her lover and boss. Soon enough, though her giggles and happy sighs stopped. When Alex looked over to see if something had gone wrong, his girlfriend's sunny disposition was replaced with a smirk and a mischievous look in her eye.

Erin hummed softly, then turned and planted her hand back on Alex's thigh before speaking in the chipper tone that let him know the other shoe was about to drop. "You used to work in a restaurant, didn't you sweetie? You were a line cook?"

Alex already didn't like where this was going. "A busboy, Miss."

"Oh, right, you wouldn't have the brains to do much but clear tables, I suppose," she playfully chided with a little affectionate squeeze of his thigh. "Well, you're going to drop me off at home and head right to the Bistro, for training."

"Training, Miss?" Alex raised an inquisitive eyebrow to the passenger seat. She knew he'd ask that question, and pounced.

"You're going to get the chance to expand your brain to new depths, cucky. You're going to be our little waiter tonight!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Oh, and Brock says they have these silly little uniforms, which had better be impeccable, and you'll be quizzed on the menu, front to back."

Alex couldn't help but groan in humiliation at the thought. Forced to rush around and serve his girlfriend and her lover, stay out of sight until needed and be prompt and professional while they eyefucked each other.

"Is that a complaint, little boy?" Erin asked, in a slightly perturbed tone.

"No, Miss, not at all," and as it went with every perceived or real transgression, that simply wasn't enough. "I'm really excited to serve you and Mr. Samson tonight. I hope my service is to your satisfaction!"

That seemed to settle Erin, who went right back into a giggle fit at the messages popping up on her phone. As they arrived at their house, Erin gave Alex another peck on the cheek and a squeeze of his deftly controlled cock before cheerfully reminding Alex, "Don't forget to pick up Brock at 7:15 before coming home to get me. And good luck with your little training!"

Alex's cock twitched again as Erin departed up toward the house. Despite himself, he couldn't help but stare at the way her ass moved in the latex skirt assigned to his girlfriend by the gym rate alpha that had such control over both of their lives. Taking five seconds for himself, he closed his eyes and breathed.

He pulled the car out of the driveway, driving to the special place Erin and Alex had their first date. Where she would soon be making lover's eyes at Brock from across a candlelit table. Where, for their amusement and no utility whatsoever, Alex would be waiting on them hand and foot.Alex sat outside the airport in Erin's black BMW, doing what he had become quite accustomed to over the past year. Waiting.

Waiting, as it turns out, had become something of a specialty for him. Erin made him wait for sex, even before all of this. She played demure, but Alex knew better now. She made him wait before every date they went on. She played overly effeminate, but Alex knew better now. She made him wait before closing the lock on his CB-6000S for the first time. She played unsure, but Alex knew better now. She was just controlling him in a different way, each of those times.

Four weeks now, counting the week she's spent away. Four weeks of waiting. Four weeks straight locked in his CB-6000S with not even a mention of release.

His eyes wandered, only for a moment from the doors of the departures exit to a happy couple walking hand-in-hand past the car. She looked up at him adoringly, he squeezed her close with a powerful arm. Alex's cock pushed against its prison as she looked up at him with big doe eyes and her short skirt billowed in the breeze. Her mannerisms were so like Erin's when they first started dating. The exuberant lovers moved on. He groaned, and waited.

There was no reprieve for his locked up twig when Erin emerged from the terminal.

A flight attendant may not seem immediately like the occupation of a truly dominant woman. But Erin certainly made the most of it. Sure, the passengers were grabby and rude, but she just leaned into their attentions. She cooed sweetly as men touched her ass, packed into the tight uniform skirt. She smiled and slapped hands away playfully as they brushed against her thigh and up along her cleavage, threatening to bust her uniform blouse at the buttons. Always sweet in her admonishment to her passengers and her simpering submissive at home.

But who could blame someone for trying to take liberties with a stewardess who looked like her? As she emerged from the terminal, Alex took a long look at his sweet, lustful tormentress. Her long, updone blonde hair had little hints of dirtiness in it. It served as a microcosm for the affectionate disregard with which she treated her chaste boyfriend. Her big, chestnut eyes searched the horizon for her familiar black BMW M3, a gift for her two-year anniversary with Alex. Her thick, pink-painted lips parted slightly to inhale the fresh, unrecycled air for the first time in hours. As Alex stepped out of the car, he observed the way she moved in this new, enhanced uniform of hers. Brock is such an innovator.

A snug white blouse barely contained her firm, ample breasts. It was tucked into a tight black latex hobble skirt that gave way to thigh-high stockings covering her toned thighs and calves. This personification of sex incarnate was perched atop five-inch black leather platform heels that extended her natural height of 5'9" to a towering 6'2", easily dwarfing her 6'0" boyfriend. In one hand she carried a jacket, in the other a severe-looking briefcase, the potential contents of which made Alex tremble with fear and excitement. She towed her roller bag along and happily waved when she saw her car. Her blood-red lips curled into a satisfied smile and she cocked her head to the side, the little latex cap not moving an inch. Pinned to her updone hair.

Alex groaned as he moved a little too quickly to her side. A rash move, considering the way his cock was churning in its plastic prison below. The little prick made another valiant attempt against its cage, only to be thwarted by the hard tube that forced it, perpetually, downward. Alex sighed at the discomfort but still rushed to his owner's side, reaching for her bag, jacket, and briefcase. She handed the first two to him and pulled the latter away, with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye: "No, little boy."

The first words either of them said to each other after a week apart. Fitting.

Alex popped the trunk and opened the door to the passenger seat of the car. She slid into the leather seat comfortably, her latex skirt squeaking a bit at the contact with the other pristinely-shined black surface. Alex carefully placed her luggage and jacket into the trunk and went around to close her door and get into the driver's seat. As he put the car in gear and drove away from the terminal, Miss Erin was already buried in her phone, giggling at text messages that had pinged her while she was flying.

Tactfully, Alex pulled onto the highway to head home, listening and observing his girlfriend's actions until there was a lull in her texting to finally speak his first words to her. "Did you enjoy your trip, Miss?"

Erin smiled and set her phone in her lap, looking forward down the road. She took a deep breath, finished with a curt nod. "I did," she smiled, then turned toward Alex. "Paris was lovely, and Pierre was such a good host for me. He showed me the most romantic places, Alex. He even took me on a ride down the Seine on his boat!" She giggled, reaching over and putting her hand on his thigh, stroking them up toward his crotch. She watched his eyes as she glanced her fingertips along the hard plastic covering her boyfriend's cock, rendered inept for four weeks now.

Alex tried to focus on the road in front of him. Look, there's the jazz museum, on the left, he tried to force into his head. Erin's words pervaded his thoughts. Oh, and on the right, there's the first place you drove your girlfriend to get fucked by another man. He whined as that thought entered his head at the same time his girlfriend's hand landed on his thigh. He could feel her eyes on him, and knew he needed to respond appropriately. He opened his lips and a soft, pained moan escaped. Not that it was any great stretch for him to emit such a noise. That one, in particular, was becoming all too familiar for him.

"Pierre also gave me a little gift to take back with me on the plane," she smirked as her hand fully wrapped around the locked member. With her other hand, she opened up the mysterious briefcase and removed a remote, switching it on and beginning to writhe ever so slightly in her seat. She moaned, watching Alex the entire time, squeezing his balls in concert with her own pleasure. With a soft whimper, she twisted his balls to one side to get his attention before happily letting him know, "I used it three times on the plane. I just can't seem to stop cumming! I don't know how you can stand being locked up for so long, boy."

Of course the first mention of his current sentence came with an intense tease, and no mention of release for him.

Alex groaned and pushed his hips up to her touch, but stayed focused on the road in front of him. Driving her home while she pleasured herself was just another in the long line of sweetly humiliating tasks his girlfriend had set out for him. His ears burned with her whimpers and moans, the soft squeak of latex against leather as she pushed and twisted her ass in the seat. Each wriggle accompanied by a corresponding squeeze of his useless nutsack.

Eventually, her soft squeezes and twists turned to desperate grasps. She flipped the remote up to its highest speed and dropped it, grabbing the 'Oh, shit' bar above her door and fittingly exclaiming its name in a shrill, needy voice. Pressing herself hard against the seat, using Alex's cock and the handle as leverage, she let out a thunderous moan as the orgasm tore through her body, sending wave after wave of pure pleasure through her body. She shuddered, continuing to grip Alex's cock until she was fully spent.

Alex carried a sheen of sweat. Erin's grip on his cock had turned uncomfortable minutes ago, but he dare not complain. Interrupting one of his girlfriend's orgasms was one of the few things he could do to truly enrage her. She wasn't a mean-spirited person, but if Alex got in the way of her pleasure, she could turn on a dime.

Brock, on the other hand, was a tyrant. Brock, Alex thought. I almost forgot. He looked over at his girlfriend, who was slowly coming down from her climax with a satisfied smile on her face. She reached for her phone again after a minute.

"I've made reservations for you and Br..." Alex started.

"Quiet, sweetie, it's from Brock," Right on cue. Alex's blood ran cold as his girlfriend's attention was easily diverted by the man that had orchestrated his downfall.

Brock Conway was hired by the airline about seven months ago to shape up the flight attendant staff. They had become drab and uninteresting, and, like everything else with Mile High airlines, had become a non-factor in differentiating them from their competitors. Brock had ideas that were too lewd for the larger airlines, but Mile High was desperate.

He was a mountain of a man, standing at 6'4" and built on a solid frame crafted by consistent time in the weight room of the gym. His cardio work, however, came from his time in the break room, the restroom, and even the bedroom with his star employee. Erin. Of course, there was no shortage of cardio that he got from yelling at and berating her simpering, chastised boyfriend for the most minor inconveniences. Even in her tallest heels, he still lorded over her with his imposing figure. The thought of it made Erin squeeze her thighs together happily, and Alex quiver in fear at the ever-present threat. Whenever he would whine or complain about one of his multiple, menial tasks a side comment from Erin, asking if they should call Brock about this quickly diffused the subbie's reluctance.

Seven months ago, Brock had entered Erin's life. Six months ago, she started keeping Alex in chastity. At the time, he thought nothing of the correlation. Now, it was all he could think about. She put down her phone with a wry smirk on her face and looked over at Alex.

"Now, what were you about to prattle on about, little guy?" She asked sweetly.

"I made reservations for you and Broke at Bistro Modello tonight, Miss Erin," said Alex, still somewhat dazed from Erin's treatment of his cock.

Erin leaned over and in a surprise move, kissed her boyfriend's cheek. "Oh, that's so sweet of you, cucky! That's where we had our first date, and it's my seven month anniversary of ... working under Brock!" She was immediately back on her phone, texting with her lover and boss. Soon enough, though her giggles and happy sighs stopped. When Alex looked over to see if something had gone wrong, his girlfriend's sunny disposition was replaced with a smirk and a mischievous look in her eye.

Erin hummed softly, then turned and planted her hand back on Alex's thigh before speaking in the chipper tone that let him know the other shoe was about to drop. "You used to work in a restaurant, didn't you sweetie? You were a line cook?"

Alex already didn't like where this was going. "A busboy, Miss."

"Oh, right, you wouldn't have the brains to do much but clear tables, I suppose," she playfully chided with a little affectionate squeeze of his thigh. "Well, you're going to drop me off at home and head right to the Bistro, for training."

"Training, Miss?" Alex raised an inquisitive eyebrow to the passenger seat. She knew he'd ask that question, and pounced.

"You're going to get the chance to expand your brain to new depths, cucky. You're going to be our little waiter tonight!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Oh, and Brock says they have these silly little uniforms, which had better be impeccable, and you'll be quizzed on the menu, front to back."

Alex couldn't help but groan in humiliation at the thought. Forced to rush around and serve his girlfriend and her lover, stay out of sight until needed and be prompt and professional while they eyefucked each other.

"Is that a complaint, little boy?" Erin asked, in a slightly perturbed tone.

"No, Miss, not at all," and as it went with every perceived or real transgression, that simply wasn't enough. "I'm really excited to serve you and Mr. Samson tonight. I hope my service is to your satisfaction!"

That seemed to settle Erin, who went right back into a giggle fit at the messages popping up on her phone. As they arrived at their house, Erin gave Alex another peck on the cheek and a squeeze of his deftly controlled cock before cheerfully reminding Alex, "Don't forget to pick up Brock at 7:15 before coming home to get me. And good luck with your little training!"

Alex's cock twitched again as Erin departed up toward the house. Despite himself, he couldn't help but stare at the way her ass moved in the latex skirt assigned to his girlfriend by the gym rate alpha that had such control over both of their lives. Taking five seconds for himself, he closed his eyes and breathed.

He pulled the car out of the driveway, driving to the special place Erin and Alex had their first date. Where she would soon be making lover's eyes at Brock from across a candlelit table. Where, for their amusement and no utility whatsoever, Alex would be waiting on them hand and foot.


clothes shop miss erin's homecoming