wrestlingclown
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Six women attended the Married Madams Secret Symposium on how to Please your Husband, and I knew all of them. Mrs. S (age 35) organized the "conference" and acted as the instructor. She was my 11th grade algebra teacher, a mousey short woman who always wore glasses and tight slacks. When I was in high school, I remember enjoying her ass wiggling as she faced the projector. She heard through a friend of the family that I would be unable to continue my college education due to a lack of funds. She called me on the telephone and offered to pay the rest of my tuition, if agreed to work for her.
"You must obey me and do everything I say or the deal is off," she said ominously.
The job was at the Holiday Inn conference room downtown. She told me to meet her there on the following Thursday evening at 7:00.
I opened the door to the conference room and saw a curtain on a mobile rack. I heard some ladies quietly talking behind the curtain. I pushed past the curtain and saw 5 women sitting in seats, facing Mrs. S. who was standing between a projector and a kind of leatherbound lounge chair with bondage restraints on it. The projector screen said, "How to Please your Husband."
"There's our practice subject. Now we can get our demonstration started."
I felt nervous and shocked. What was this about? I recognized all the women there. Mrs. R (age 43), a pretty but chubby woman was the reverend's wife. Mrs. W (age 29) was a friend our family knew from church. She always seemed like such a nice person. Though she was plain looking and skinny, she had beautiful big breasts. Dr. M (age 41) had been my pediatrician when I was a child. She was a petite blonde. Mrs. C (age 34), my neighbor, was a tall red head with a big sexy ass. Mrs. L (age 34) was a Chinese lady who wore lots of make-up. She worked at the corner store near my house where I usually bought gas. Most were dressed casually in jeans or sweatpants, but Mrs. R wore a red dress.
"I'm teaching a class on how to please a husband, and I chose you as practice dummy," Mrs. S said.
She ordered me to take off my clothes. The ladies had their eyes glued to me with serious looks on their faces. Mrs. R was the only one smiling. I wanted my tuition paid, so I complied. Mrs. S stepped closer to my naked body.
"See. I chose a fine figure of a man for our symposium," Mrs. S said. "Now, sit in the chair."
I obeyed, and she began attaching the restraints to my wrists. She noticed the worried look on my face.
"Don't worry. You can trust us. We won't hurt you," Mrs. S said in a soothing voice.
My penis became erect just as she finished fastening my ankle down, and I realized I was now at their mercy.
Mrs. L pointed.
"Look. He like it," she said.
"Good. That's going to make our symposium much easier," Mrs. S said. "It's time for true confessions. You know all of us. Do you ever fantasize about any of us?"
I felt embarrassed. The truth was I occasionally had sex fantasies involving every woman in the room and was particularly hooked on Mrs. S's ass. I masturbated like crazy to it when I had been in high school.
I inadvertently nodded yes.
"Which one of us do you fantasize about?" she asked.
I squirmed in my seat, not wanting to admit the truth. The ladies were looking at me so intently.
"I don't want to say," I murmured.
I heard the door open and close and another woman pushed past the curtain.
"Our call girl has arrived. Pam is our other demonstrator. She's going to be the one who follows my instructions on how to please your husband. We're video-recording this symposium for our husband's edification, and I thought we'd pick an exceptionally beautiful woman for our demonstration," Mrs. S said.
Pam (age 24) smiled at me. She wore a raincoat. She stood in front of me and promptly let the coat slip to the floor. She was completely nude. She looked like a Barbie doll. She had a blonde wig, a lip job, and enormous surgically-enhanced breasts. One of her breasts looked a little misshapen from a badly placed implant, but otherwise she was very pretty and slim, her legs and buttocks smooth. She left her glasses on.
"Now ladies, the most important part of pleasing a husband is paying attention to his penis. You've got to really tickle his pickle. Pam, get on your knees and lick Mark's dick," Mrs. S said.
Pam pushed my penis toward her mouth and gave it a lick. She let it go and it throbbed.
"Now, take your fingers and tickle the sides of his dick."
Pam used both hands to tickle the sides of my penis, and I struggled against the restraints, no longer able to stay still.
"How does that feel?" Mrs. S asked.
"Good," I grunted betwen gritted teeth.
"The next thing I'm going to tell Pam to do never fails to drive men crazy. Make sure your husband is tied down good and tight for this step. Some men simply can't handle it. Pam, rub his penis with one hand and tickle his balls with the other."
I struggled furiously to escape, recalling a wrestling match I had with a babysitter long ago, the panic I felt when I couldn't stop her from tickling my smaller pinned body.
The handjob felt so good, but the testicle tickling was unbearable. I reflexively laughed and in futility tried to move my hands to stop it.
"No, don't stop tickling him yet," Mrs. S said.
Pam resumed the handjob/ball tickling, and I laughed and made a funny high-pitched sound. Some of the ladies laughed at the weird noise I made.
"Ok, you can stop now," Mrs. S said.
"He's still ticklish. When Mark was a little boy, and I gave him an examination, he was always so ticklish but he would never admit it," Dr. M said.
"Now, tickle the tip of his penis with this feather," Mrs. S said.
Pam took the feather and ran it back and forth over the tip. The sensation was unbearable but didn't make me laugh.
Dr. M got out of her seat and walked toward me.
"I know where he's ticklish," she said.
As she approached, I struggled desperately, briefly burst into tears for some inexplicable reason, and giggled as soon as she poked my belly, just as she had done years ago in her office. I felt so helpless.
"Pam, tickle him between his balls and legs," Mrs. S said.
With Pam and Dr. M tickling me at the same time, I couldn't stop laughing.
"Let's not stop tickling him until he admits he's ticklish," Dr. M said.
"Are you ticklish? Huh? Huh? Huh?" she asked.
I was laughing so hard I had difficulty answering her, but I finally yelled "YES!"
They stopped, and Dr. M had a satisfied look on her face. She walked back to her chair.
"Which tickled more? The inside of your legs or your belly?" Mrs. S asked.
"I think my belly," I admitted.
"Pam, tickle underneath his penis," Mrs. S said. "No, not the back of his penis. The part of his belly right beneath his penis. That's it. Tickle, tickle, tickle."
I discovered that spot was more ticklish than my belly, between my legs, or my balls. I laughed and thrashed until she stopped. I began to wonder when the ordeal was going to be over. I wanted to escape, yet there was a part of me that was in ecstasy.
"Would anyone else like to practice tickling Mark?" Mrs S asked.
Mrs. W volunteered. She was such a nice person, I didn't mind being tickled by her. She tickled my neck, forcing me to shrug and giggle like a kid in a barbershop chair. She smiled at me.
"Is this fun?" she asked.
"Yes."
Mrs. W then went back to her chair. Much to my horror, Mrs. R stood up.
"This looks like so much fun, I can't resist," she said.
As she walked to me she started saying "coochie, coochie coo."
The fat lady tickled my feet for about a minute, and I laughed the whole time she "coochie coochie, cooed" me. It was so embarrassingly exciting to be at the mercy of a fat lady.
"My husband is about as ticklish as you are," she said as she seated herself back down. The image of this fat woman tickling the reverend was now fixed in my mind.
Mrs. C took her turn. The red-headed woman tickled my underarms, and this resulted in my loudest laughter.
"You're so cute. Such a cute wittle baby. Tomorrow night, I'm going to tickle my husband just like this. I bet you'll be able to hear him laugh from your house," she said
Mrs. L was next. She pointed at me.
"You no do this to me. I tickle, I no like it getting tickle."
Her fingers danced over my ribs. I tried not to laugh, wanting to show that at least one of these women couldn't break me. But a few whimpers burst forth. When whe went back to her seat, Mrs. S. attacked my underarms, and again I laughed loudly.
"I think your armpits are your most ticklish spot. Remember ladies, tickle your husbands pits, if you want to hear them laugh loud."
Pam felt the tip of my penis.
"It's sticky," she said.
"Ride him. It's time for his ultimate reward.
Pam stuck my penis in her wet pussy and rode. It was the first time I had ever had sex. Her large misshapen breasts bounced all around, and I came fast.
Mrs. S let me go. I got dressed and she gave me the check for my tuition.
"Thanks for being such a willing subject," she said.
I left in a daze, the ladies talking to each other as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. But how could I ever face them again?
"You must obey me and do everything I say or the deal is off," she said ominously.
The job was at the Holiday Inn conference room downtown. She told me to meet her there on the following Thursday evening at 7:00.
I opened the door to the conference room and saw a curtain on a mobile rack. I heard some ladies quietly talking behind the curtain. I pushed past the curtain and saw 5 women sitting in seats, facing Mrs. S. who was standing between a projector and a kind of leatherbound lounge chair with bondage restraints on it. The projector screen said, "How to Please your Husband."
"There's our practice subject. Now we can get our demonstration started."
I felt nervous and shocked. What was this about? I recognized all the women there. Mrs. R (age 43), a pretty but chubby woman was the reverend's wife. Mrs. W (age 29) was a friend our family knew from church. She always seemed like such a nice person. Though she was plain looking and skinny, she had beautiful big breasts. Dr. M (age 41) had been my pediatrician when I was a child. She was a petite blonde. Mrs. C (age 34), my neighbor, was a tall red head with a big sexy ass. Mrs. L (age 34) was a Chinese lady who wore lots of make-up. She worked at the corner store near my house where I usually bought gas. Most were dressed casually in jeans or sweatpants, but Mrs. R wore a red dress.
"I'm teaching a class on how to please a husband, and I chose you as practice dummy," Mrs. S said.
She ordered me to take off my clothes. The ladies had their eyes glued to me with serious looks on their faces. Mrs. R was the only one smiling. I wanted my tuition paid, so I complied. Mrs. S stepped closer to my naked body.
"See. I chose a fine figure of a man for our symposium," Mrs. S said. "Now, sit in the chair."
I obeyed, and she began attaching the restraints to my wrists. She noticed the worried look on my face.
"Don't worry. You can trust us. We won't hurt you," Mrs. S said in a soothing voice.
My penis became erect just as she finished fastening my ankle down, and I realized I was now at their mercy.
Mrs. L pointed.
"Look. He like it," she said.
"Good. That's going to make our symposium much easier," Mrs. S said. "It's time for true confessions. You know all of us. Do you ever fantasize about any of us?"
I felt embarrassed. The truth was I occasionally had sex fantasies involving every woman in the room and was particularly hooked on Mrs. S's ass. I masturbated like crazy to it when I had been in high school.
I inadvertently nodded yes.
"Which one of us do you fantasize about?" she asked.
I squirmed in my seat, not wanting to admit the truth. The ladies were looking at me so intently.
"I don't want to say," I murmured.
I heard the door open and close and another woman pushed past the curtain.
"Our call girl has arrived. Pam is our other demonstrator. She's going to be the one who follows my instructions on how to please your husband. We're video-recording this symposium for our husband's edification, and I thought we'd pick an exceptionally beautiful woman for our demonstration," Mrs. S said.
Pam (age 24) smiled at me. She wore a raincoat. She stood in front of me and promptly let the coat slip to the floor. She was completely nude. She looked like a Barbie doll. She had a blonde wig, a lip job, and enormous surgically-enhanced breasts. One of her breasts looked a little misshapen from a badly placed implant, but otherwise she was very pretty and slim, her legs and buttocks smooth. She left her glasses on.
"Now ladies, the most important part of pleasing a husband is paying attention to his penis. You've got to really tickle his pickle. Pam, get on your knees and lick Mark's dick," Mrs. S said.
Pam pushed my penis toward her mouth and gave it a lick. She let it go and it throbbed.
"Now, take your fingers and tickle the sides of his dick."
Pam used both hands to tickle the sides of my penis, and I struggled against the restraints, no longer able to stay still.
"How does that feel?" Mrs. S asked.
"Good," I grunted betwen gritted teeth.
"The next thing I'm going to tell Pam to do never fails to drive men crazy. Make sure your husband is tied down good and tight for this step. Some men simply can't handle it. Pam, rub his penis with one hand and tickle his balls with the other."
I struggled furiously to escape, recalling a wrestling match I had with a babysitter long ago, the panic I felt when I couldn't stop her from tickling my smaller pinned body.
The handjob felt so good, but the testicle tickling was unbearable. I reflexively laughed and in futility tried to move my hands to stop it.
"No, don't stop tickling him yet," Mrs. S said.
Pam resumed the handjob/ball tickling, and I laughed and made a funny high-pitched sound. Some of the ladies laughed at the weird noise I made.
"Ok, you can stop now," Mrs. S said.
"He's still ticklish. When Mark was a little boy, and I gave him an examination, he was always so ticklish but he would never admit it," Dr. M said.
"Now, tickle the tip of his penis with this feather," Mrs. S said.
Pam took the feather and ran it back and forth over the tip. The sensation was unbearable but didn't make me laugh.
Dr. M got out of her seat and walked toward me.
"I know where he's ticklish," she said.
As she approached, I struggled desperately, briefly burst into tears for some inexplicable reason, and giggled as soon as she poked my belly, just as she had done years ago in her office. I felt so helpless.
"Pam, tickle him between his balls and legs," Mrs. S said.
With Pam and Dr. M tickling me at the same time, I couldn't stop laughing.
"Let's not stop tickling him until he admits he's ticklish," Dr. M said.
"Are you ticklish? Huh? Huh? Huh?" she asked.
I was laughing so hard I had difficulty answering her, but I finally yelled "YES!"
They stopped, and Dr. M had a satisfied look on her face. She walked back to her chair.
"Which tickled more? The inside of your legs or your belly?" Mrs. S asked.
"I think my belly," I admitted.
"Pam, tickle underneath his penis," Mrs. S said. "No, not the back of his penis. The part of his belly right beneath his penis. That's it. Tickle, tickle, tickle."
I discovered that spot was more ticklish than my belly, between my legs, or my balls. I laughed and thrashed until she stopped. I began to wonder when the ordeal was going to be over. I wanted to escape, yet there was a part of me that was in ecstasy.
"Would anyone else like to practice tickling Mark?" Mrs S asked.
Mrs. W volunteered. She was such a nice person, I didn't mind being tickled by her. She tickled my neck, forcing me to shrug and giggle like a kid in a barbershop chair. She smiled at me.
"Is this fun?" she asked.
"Yes."
Mrs. W then went back to her chair. Much to my horror, Mrs. R stood up.
"This looks like so much fun, I can't resist," she said.
As she walked to me she started saying "coochie, coochie coo."
The fat lady tickled my feet for about a minute, and I laughed the whole time she "coochie coochie, cooed" me. It was so embarrassingly exciting to be at the mercy of a fat lady.
"My husband is about as ticklish as you are," she said as she seated herself back down. The image of this fat woman tickling the reverend was now fixed in my mind.
Mrs. C took her turn. The red-headed woman tickled my underarms, and this resulted in my loudest laughter.
"You're so cute. Such a cute wittle baby. Tomorrow night, I'm going to tickle my husband just like this. I bet you'll be able to hear him laugh from your house," she said
Mrs. L was next. She pointed at me.
"You no do this to me. I tickle, I no like it getting tickle."
Her fingers danced over my ribs. I tried not to laugh, wanting to show that at least one of these women couldn't break me. But a few whimpers burst forth. When whe went back to her seat, Mrs. S. attacked my underarms, and again I laughed loudly.
"I think your armpits are your most ticklish spot. Remember ladies, tickle your husbands pits, if you want to hear them laugh loud."
Pam felt the tip of my penis.
"It's sticky," she said.
"Ride him. It's time for his ultimate reward.
Pam stuck my penis in her wet pussy and rode. It was the first time I had ever had sex. Her large misshapen breasts bounced all around, and I came fast.
Mrs. S let me go. I got dressed and she gave me the check for my tuition.
"Thanks for being such a willing subject," she said.
I left in a daze, the ladies talking to each other as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. But how could I ever face them again?
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