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Trust

By: LansaraStar



Ambrose and I had been dating for about a year. He was wonderful, five years my senior, experienced, unlike myself. He was a typical tall, dark and handsome that I immediately felt safe with. I could trust him.

Ambrose knew I had wanted to stay a virgin until I got married. Old fashion nonsense I guess. Don't get me wrong, we did stuff. He introduced me to orgasms and anal fairly quick. I learned that I loved having my breasts suckled and bit. He liked it when I scraped my teeth over his head while deep throating him. My clit was so sensitive and he could keep me orgasming as long as he played with it. We knew each other intimately, just not that intimately.

Well, one night we had decided to go out to dinner. He took me to a very expensive place. You know, the type you have to be dressed up to get in the door. Ambrose ordered a bottle of wine with dinner. I guess I had most of it. When we finished dinner, I was feeling more than a little hot and we decided to go back to his place. 

We couldn't keep our hands of each other in the car. He was driving and every so often would almost hit the shoulder before recovering control. I had his pants unzipped and was devouring his luscious cock. He had the top of my dress off and was squeezing my nipples into hard peaks. 

We had barely made it into his house when he became serious. I was practically devouring him when he pulled me away and holding my face in his hands asked me the all important, 

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. Why did you choose now to ask?"

He just smiled and began pulling me to his bedroom. By the time we got there, I was completely naked. He was still fully dressed if a little askew. We got in the door and he turned around and held me against it, kissing me.

"Are you sure you trust me?"

"Ambrose, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you."

"Prove it."

I looked at him stunned. His face was a little bit harder. His eyes looked black, almost like cold steel. I felt his muscles ripple beneath my touch and knew I was trembling.

"How?"

"Let me do whatever I want to you."

I figured he would remember his promise to me that I stay a virgin so I slowly nodded my head. I didn't even realize what happened before I was on his bed, his body pinning me down. He was attacking my breasts, capturing the nipples and suckling. It wasn't until I tried to hold his head did I realize that my right hand was now in a restraint against the corner of the headboard. Before I could say anything, I was being kissed and then my left hand was restrained in the same fashion. 

"Do you trust me?"

I was scared, trembling. I knew he could feel it. But I was also so hot, so wet. I wanted him...bad. My head nodded.

"Say it."

"I trust you."

"Tell me I can do anything I want to you."

"Ambrose, you can do anything you want to me."

"I want to wax you."

I stared at him in shock. Wax me?

"What? Like get rid of my hair?"

He nodded and began playing with the dark curls that surrounded my sex.

"I want to wax you."

He got up off the bed and left me, confused and bewildered. 

"Ambrose, won't that hurt?"

"Sure a little."

"Please, I don't want to be hurt. Please don't."

"Too late. You said I could do anything I wanted."

"But Ambrose..."

"But nothing! You either trust me or you don't."

"I trust you." My voice was barely a whisper. I was scared, but I did trust him. I realized he had been gathering things as he moved. He had a jar of wax, some towels, cloth strips, scissors...and one of those ball gags. I shook my head as he came closer with it. He just smiled and told me to open up.

"This way when I pull the wax off you won't scream."

I again shook my head. He grabbed my face.

"I said take it bitch!"

I was scared. I did what he said and he shoved the ball into my mouth. It tore the skin at the corners of my lips. He lifted my head by the neck and tightened the gag into place. 

"I'll be right back. I have to go heat the wax."

He left the room and I pulled at my restraints. I twisted, trying to see how they were fastened. Hanging limp next to my wrists were another set of restraints. For a second person? But why?

Ambrose came back in, whistling to himself. He set the wax down and grabbed my ankles. He lifted them up and pushed them back to my wrists. Leaning on them to hold them, he quickly shackled my legs. It was a good thing I was flexible. I was spread apart with my pussy and ass fully visible to him. My legs were in such a way that I couldn't move and no part of my curls would be missed. He smiled and slid a towel under my butt.

"Now, first, we trim."

He brought the scissors over and began to trim my tufts. I jsut lay back, feeling the cold metal told my skin, feeling his hot hands rubbing. I was getting wet again. I heard him chuckle just before his finger dipped into me. I moaned as he wiggled it around. Then, it was gone. I felt so empty!

The wax hit me and I jumped. It was so hot! I started moving, trying to escape it. God, it was burning! Tears started down my cheeks as the wax slid across my mound, down over my clit and between my lips. It even went back over my asshole adnd the valley between my cheeks. I felt him pressing the strips on and shook my head, knowing what was next.

One of his hands pulled my skin tight and the other ripped the strip off. I felt like I was being torn. It stung! 

"Oh YES."

I looked at Ambrose scared. I knew that look. He was close to cumming. He ripped another strip off of me and closed his eyes, as if he was savoring the moment. 

When he was finished, he started rubbing oil on my tortured skin. The oil was cool, but quickly warmed to almost unbearable. But his hands! Oh his hands were so good, rubbing just the right places, between my lips, my holes. He touched my clit and I jumped. It felt so good. Everything was heightened, new sensations from the smooth skin. His hands pinched and rubbed my lips, until I covered him with my juice. 

"My little pet, you realize you know belong to me. You are mine. You have been since you told me I could do anything I wanted to you."

The thoughts penetrated my euphoria. He was serious! He actually thought he owned me! I don't know which was worse, the fact that he thought that or that I wanted him to. I wanted him to own me, to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He must of seen the confusion in my eyes.

"Admit it to yourself. You want this, my pet. To be owned. To not have to make any decisions. To know that your every need, my every desire will be fullfilled. You want to know every desire I can give you. You want to know and not take any responsibility for what I do to you. Not think about consequences, just enjoy the moment. Admit it, you want it and me."

I did. I wanted it so much. I was shaking, not with fear any more, but with desire. Maybe it was his hands, still playing with me, maybe it was his voice, intoxicating. But I wanted it, not just now, but forever.

He lifted my head and removed the gag.

"Tell me. Tell me you want it."

"Please, Ambrose. Please, make me yours."

A hard slap on my ass made me squirm and cry out. 

"No, not like that. You should know."

I nodded my head. I knew. Was I ready for that step? With a deep breath, I said it.

"Master, please. Master me. Make me yours. I trust you with my body completely and absolutely."

"Good."

He left me. Oh how could he leave me!? But he was coming back. He had something. Ambrose knelt on the bed, his cock gently pressing my pussy, teasing me. Carefully, he held it so I could see.

It was exquisite. Black leather, soft with five metal rings. Two were attached at the ends, the other three evenly spaced around it. It was lined with red satin. He lifted my head again and placed it around my neck. A little gold padlock was produced and clicked into place, locking the collar on me. It was a snug fit, but so comforting.

"You're mine." Then he stopped teasing. Ambrose moved forward, plunging his cock into me. In one swift stroke, my cherry popped. I cried out. He was filling me. OH GOD! He was filling me so completely. I was his. Full possession had been taken. Slowly, exquisitely, he began moving, playing, teasing. He groaned as he moved. I matched his groans. 

My mouth was captured by his and our tongues began duelling while he sword slid into my sheath. I was held prisoner by him, unable to think beyond the feelings he was giving me. I didn't even want to. Nothing mattered, except here and now. 

I felt myself building, the familiar tingle, yet different. This was not like the other orgasms I had experienced. It was more. It built and built. I couldn't stand it and yet it built more. It was almost painful in my sweet ecstasy. Too much and still not enough. 

Ambrose groaned and threw his head back, an animal yell escaping him. I felt him stiffen, and pulse as he spilled his seed into my depths. I felt it push against my womb, invading me, claiming me, marking me. 

And then I was lost. I erupted in a chaotic movement of liquids and spasms. My body shook and I cried out his name. AMBROSE! MASTER! I could not handle it, yet I wanted more. Needed it. I spasmed around him and felt him pour more of himself into me. Crying and laughing, I thrashed, finally knowing the ecstasy I had long denied us. 

He collapsed on me, even as I trembled. I couldn't focus on anything besides my own breathing. Somehow, my legs and hands were free. I wrapped myself around him and held him. Yes, I belonged to him. But more importantly, he belonged to me. Ambrose is my Master.

Trust



Hello! No editor for this one. Sorry for any and all errors! Just wrote it in two hours *phew* It's a one-shot but I can't say I might not follow up on this in the future with an erotic tale (but I can't say I will, either!) Enjoy anyway. All comments welcome; rate if you wish :)

*

Marianna sucked dick like every good bitch should. She kept her pussy waxed, legs shaved, hair done, nails manicured, makeup flawless, kitchen skills up-to-date, and other men out of her mind. She would do anything to please the man that made her smile every day and begging for mercy every night. She thought it was a pain having to go through so much prepping just to look nice, but she did it for her man. She would happily miss an important meeting to get her perm in on time; she would skip lunch to get a chipped nail fixed; she would even miss a day of work to go the spa for hot oil treatments and exfoliating body scrubs. Yet, she still found herself as a victim of a no-good player.

She gracefully stepped down from the driver's side of her new Range Rover, mindful of her delicate Prada heels, and gently closed the door. Every click of her heels against the asphalt triggered another memory. The nights she slaved over the stove pulling together his dinner so it would be hot and ready when he got in, only to get a call saying he couldn't make it and she would have to eat alone.

He was out with that bitch.

Every time she called him late on Sunday nights because she couldn't sleep and was lonely and was greeted by his answering machine.

He was out with that bitch.

Whenever she wanted to have lunch with him during a workday and he said he was too busy to take a break.

He was out with that Spanish bitch!

Marianna was almost the same shade of red as her Louis Vuitton clutch. Her dark skin hid most of her anger, but what wasn't revealed by her skin, was burning in her eyes. She slowed her steps and came to a halt. What she needed to do was calm down and take a breath. She had a plan, and showing up angry at the reception desk would only jeopardize her chances of getting in. Instead of turning around and slashing his tires, Marianna closed her eyes and allowed the sun's energy to fuel her desire for payback. Not revenge. Payback.

Revenge was much too simple. Someone kills your favorite pet, you kill theirs. That's revenge. What Marianna wanted went much deeper than an eye for an eye. She wanted his whole fucking head. So she kicked back up to a casual pace, threw her long, midnight curls behind her back, and plastered on a smile. She was about to perform number one on her list to keep from becoming shrewd and bitter.

Number one: Get off your knees and wipe the cum from your mouth with a pleasant smile.

Number two: Give proper thanks to the hand that fed you.

Number three: Walk away like it never happened.

The interior of the building was ice cold in contrast to the sweltering ninety degree summer weather outside. The office was comprised of whites, silvers, and blacks. Marianna would have rolled her eyes at the sterile, lifeless color scheme if her mission didn't count on it. She approached the blonde—who appeared to be the same twenty-five years as she—and broadened her smile.

"Hello. I'm here to do pre-setup for Mr. Takahashi," she said, motioning to black crate sitting atop a steel cart. The blonde smiled back.

"Oh, yes. I just need you to scan your ID badge right here, please." Marianna laughed in her head at how easy it was to deceive these people.

Number one, complete.

It had been deliciously easy to hack into Takahashi's log system and enter herself as an employee. It had been even easier to call into her boyfriend's workplace and schedule a time to set up before Mr. Takahashi's arrival. The easiest part of all was getting a crate containing only a solitary disk delivered to wait her arrival.

After the beep signifying the fake ID worked, the receptionist rolled the cart from behind the desk and gave Marianna instructions to get to the correct conference room.

Mr. Takahashi was coming, but Marianna's presence wasn't necessary. It wasn't even expected. The excitement of the events that were about to unfold made her heart rate increase, releasing endorphins similar to those she felt at the height of ecstasy. She thought she would stroke-out from excitement before she got her plan to work. She quickly calmed herself down and entered the designated room.

The lights flickered on and the smell of mahogany furniture assaulted her nostrils. The large, wide table was as long as the room which made Marianna smile. Almost every person in his office would be there for this. She walked the cart over to the projector and pulled the disk labeled "Percentages and Estimations" from the crate and popped it in.

She knew he had spent all of last night testing it with the projector for his presentation today. Last night while he slept, she snuck it from his briefcase. She knew the projector would be the last place he looked for it, which was to her advantage. He wouldn't have time to see the edits she made.

Satisfied that her plan was working, she left the office after a small victory dance and ran into the very man she was off to see: his boss, Luke Baskens. He was a tall, older gentleman with salt and pepper hair, grey eyes, and a panty-melting smile.

"Hello, Mr. Baskens. I'm Karen, Mr. Takahashi's technical go-to girl," she said with a soft voice and a bashful smile. He took the bait, putting on a seducing smile.

"Hello, Karen. Pleasure to meet you. I'm sure you do an amazing job," he said suggestively. Marianna faked embarrassment and changed the subject.

"Well, Mr. Takahashi has said great things about your business. I know he said today will be the deciding factor in you two doing business together. I would personally offer him a gift today. Gift exchanging is a huge part of Japanese culture." Mr. Baskens looked at me with amusement.

"I'm actually aware of that. Don't worry. I have a gift he'll enjoy and my best man on the job."

Best man, my ass.

"That's great," she replied.

"If you stick around until after the meeting, I'll be sure to reward you for your hard work." Marianna didn't have to fake the hot flash that hit her. The man was oozing the sweet aroma of promised pleasure. She stayed strong in her desire to keep away from men for the moment and threw out the idea of a roll in the hay with the older man.

"Then I'll have to stick around," she lied. With a final smile, Marianna thought, Number two, check!

She left for her Range Rover, only stopping to notify the receptionist that she would be right back. She started the engine and drove off to a new beginning, awaiting the phone call she knew she would soon get. That would signal completion of "Number 3" on her list. Deny all involvement and start new. She was going to sleep good that night.

In the conference room, Trevor was sweating. He couldn't find his presentation disk anywhere. Even his backup was missing. People were filing into the room and he had just gotten word that Mr. Takahashi was ten minutes away. He ran a hand through his black hair as his blue eyes settled on the projector.

I took it out last night. It won't be there...but maybe...

He strode over to the machine and popped it open. The relief coursing through him caused his muscles to ache from the sudden release of tension.

Marianna would kill me if I fucked this up and got fired. She wouldn't move in with me then!

Trevor smiled at how he had gone out and went house hunting behind Marianna's back. He was usually busy, so he had to skip lunches and dinners to do it. He even sacrificed a few nights in bed with her to look at a property if that was the only time he had to do it. His agent, Linda, was a blessing. She was a beautiful Dominican woman of thirty-two who was tall and curvy and everyman's fantasy; but whenever he saw her, he only thought of how happy he was going to make Marianna when she found them the perfect home.

He had gotten paranoid one day that he saw Marianna's car tailing him, but he dismissed it as fear of the secret getting out. There was no way she would follow him. He had been careful to not seem too suspicious by canceling too many plans with her. After closing this deal, he would be able to sign the closing papers with pride. He couldn't wait to show her around then ask her to marry him when the tour was over.

On the road, Marianna couldn't believe her eyes. It was the Spanish looking woman she had seen Trevor with a week ago. Beyond using her better judgment, she pulled over in front of the house and jumped out of the SUV. She was walking to fast she practically glided across the driveway pavement.

"Hey! You!" she yelled. The woman turned around from her inspection of the bushes with a confused look plastered on her face.

"Yes?" she asked, not back down from the crazed woman running up to her. Linda was at least six inches taller than her when they were both in heels, but her size obviously didn't intimidate the woman.

"Are you here to meet someone else's man?" she spat. It was juvenile, but her anger had clearly gotten the best of her.

"Excuse me? I am a married woman!" she replied with just as much fire as Marianna threw at her.

"Bullshit! You had no problem sneaking around with my Trevor! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You're a married woman," Marianna replied.

"Trevor!" Linda yelled, appalled. He was a wealthy, handsome man, but she was happily married and wouldn't trade her husband in for any amount of wealth.

"I'm his agent! I've never slept with him. If you're Marianna, he's been seeing me privately to view houses for you." The color faded from Marianna's face. She needed to get back to his office as fast as she could. Now was no time for proper apologies.

She turned and took off to her SUV, a confused Linda calling after her to ask what was going on. Marianna never drove so fast in her life. She was thankful that she stashed Trevor's spare disk in her glove compartment. She knew for a fact that Mr. Takahashi would be there by now and that the gift exchange would buy her some time, but she didn't have a second to spare.

The car was barely off before Marianna was ripping the disk from the glove compartment and jumping out the car, racing to the office. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She felt foolish for jumping to conclusions. She was about to ruin the man of her dream's life because she wanted to be vengeful. She pushed open the doors to his office building and gave the blonde receptionist a quick, "Sorry, gotta hurry!" before sprinting down the hallway like an Olympic gold medalist in heels.

Marianna could see through the glass windows that the presentation hadn't started yet and she almost collapsed in tears from relief. Instead, she continued to walk on shaky legs to the window. She waited until she got Trevor's attention before motioning him out of the room. She saw him mumble an apology before excusing himself to meet her. He hurriedly walked to her and took her into his arms.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked into her hair after giving her head a kiss. Marianna couldn't stop the tears pouring from her eyes, but she made sure not to get mascara on his suit.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I almost ruined everything. Please forgive me!" she cried. Trevor took his trembling woman away from the window and hugged her tighter.

"Look, whatever it is, we can get through it," he promised. He kissed her tear-streaked face and she calmed enough to give him the disk. He looked down at the disk in her hand with his eyebrows drawn in.

"You need to use this disk. Not the other one. I'll explain later." Trevor took the disk tentatively, and gave Marianna another look that said she had a LOT of explaining to do. He gave her one more kiss before telling her to go home and rest and that he would meet her later.

Marianna happily agreed and gave him a sheepish smile that showed both her embarrassment and love. She knew he would yell at her and then he would be hurt by her accusations and actions; but at the end of the day, they would still have each other's love and devotion, and that was all that mattered. She would be sure to suck his dick extra good that night.



Trust



Daylight is waning rapidly, as it does in the tropics. 

The dense green jungle surrounding our cabin is dripping with humidity, yet the temperature at this altitude is comfortable, not so hot that the moisture in the air feels dense, and not so cool that clothing is required. We can remain comfortable in minimal clothing, if any at all.

I am looking out the front porch of our isolated bungalow, admiring the tropical color and dense vegetation around me. We have retreated from our hectic life in the States, to this remote private haven to relax, rejuvenate and recharge, and discover one another anew.

You took our rented vehicle to town to "get some things," mysteriously leaving out details. In your absence, I have lost myself, enjoying my natural surroundings.

I smile as I see headlights through the vegetation, approaching from around a bend in the road. The beginnings of a light drizzle float across the twin beams. I look forward to tonight and sharing our surroundings with you and you alone.

Suddenly, my heart leaps in panic. I remember your last statement as you were leaving, "When I get back, I expect to find you naked and hard." I had forgotten as I daydreamed about what you had in mind.

I bolt into the house as the car approaches, yanking my shirt over my head and casting it into the corner of the living area behind the couch. I do not want you to find me anywhere near my clothes. I pry my heels out of my shoes and kick them after the shirt as you pull up and shut off the engine. Grabbing my underwear and shorts in one handful, I thrust them both to my ankles and step out. I scoop them up and toss them into the hidden pile. 

I stumble to the couch as you approach the open door. I hook each sock with a finger, slip my feet free, and slide them under the couch as you enter and look up. As I sit naked on the couch, I try to look as if I had been waiting for you like that all day.

You are wearing a new little black dress. It is lacy with a short loose skirt cut above mid-thigh. It is made with a light fabric that flows with a flirty flip as you walk and turn and move. Your soft smooth shoulders are bare, holding up a lacy bodice by two thin straps. A wide shiny black belt hugs your waist and causes the fabric to cling to your form, revealing cleavage to tease and to tantalize, outlining your shapely hips and butt. You wear new black heels that prop you up high on your calves, causing you to flex your leg muscles in a way that makes your fully revealed legs devastatingly sexy.

You enter like a breeze, speckled with drizzle and place a black shopping bag down just inside the door. Taking a deep breath, you brush a lock of you soft red hair from your shining blue eyes. You turn to me and smile, admiring my naked body, waiting for you.

"Do you like my new dress?"

"It is pretty. You look very nice."

"So do you." You giggle softly.

"Are we going out?"

"Not tonight," you smile.

"You look very sexy."

"So do you. Except for one thing . . ."

I shrug off my guilt.

"Stand up and come over here," you say calmly.

Compliantly, I rise and walk over, standing in front of you. Your heels make you several inches taller than me. Standing next to you naked while you are fully clothed makes me feel at a luscious disadvantage. The fact that you look so hot compounds my feelings of vulnerability.

You place your hand on my chest and lean in close. Your hips and breasts touch my bare skin. You look at me silently, lustfully. Your dress scrapes my bare flesh as you step around me, trailing your hand down over my tummy and waist. You rest your palm on my naked butt. You gently rub. Kneading me, you squeeze my soft flesh firmly and sigh. You circle me leisurely, touching me probing and investigating like a predator sizing up her prey.

You step in front of me, cup my testicles in your hand and fondle me gently.

"I told you I wanted you hard," you remind me, petting my awakening, but still flaccid penis.

"I'm sorry."

"This puts a kink in my plans for you."

You press your hand deep between my thighs and push it up where my legs join. Your fingers reach to my perineum. Lightly you stroke me there as I part my legs, yielding to your probing hand.

"Don't . . . move," you say sternly, a twinkle in your eye. You step unhurriedly behind me. I hear you rummage around in the black bag and pull something out. I turn to see what you are doing.

"Don't look!" you order. I snap my head forward at the firmness of your command.

"Since you weren't ready for me when I got back, you'll need to do what I tell you to now."

Though I don't know what you were up to, I know that you have something up your sleeve that I will find interesting if I play along compliantly.

I hear the tap of your heels moving across the floor toward me. You stop behind me. I can feel your breath on my neck as your chin brushes my shoulder. Your warm breath spreads over my ear. You whisper, "I clearly told you to be hard when I returned."

I am starting to get hard now.

"I'm not going to let you get away with this, you know."

Gently you wrap your fingers around one of my wrists, and then the other. You draw them behind my back. Swiftly, you slip my hands into two loops of soft rope and pull them tight. Some sort of latch locks the loops, firmly but comfortably binding my hands behind my back.

You give my bottom a firm but playful slap. The loud smack that accompanied it causes me to jump, but there is no pain. Just the warm mild stinging sensation lingers, reminding me that you get to be boss, for now. The sensation goes straight to my penis. I can feel it filling.

You take a step away from me to me side and look at me with a big excited grin. You are holding the little black bag.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

You laugh gleefully.

"Well," you say teasing, with playful authority, "If you can't get yourself up for me, I'll get you up myself."

I smile. My penis becomes more firm. This will be fun.

You reach for a chair from the adjoining dining room and place it in the middle of the living room facing the sofa.

"Sit down."

I sit. You saunter to the couch twisting your hips so the little skirt flares high, showing the full gorgeous length of your shapely muscular legs. You place the bag next to you.

"You probably don't care that I had gotten myself up for you in the car on the way home."

"Oh?"

"Yes," you pause in excited anticipation before adding, "This is what I was doing . . ."

Your slow, deliberate actions tease me to attention. You slip a strap off your shoulder and allow the front of your dress to drop, baring a breast. Looking at me vampishly, you raise a hand to your lips and slather your finger with saliva. Gently, you touch your exposed nipple. A little grunt of pleasure escapes your lips as you close your eyes. You bite your lower lip and lean forward into your hand, breathing deeply through your teeth.

You brush off the other shoulder strap. The front of your dress falls away baring both tender breasts. You lick both hands and amuse your nipples.

"You did this while you were driving?"

You glare at me playfully.

"I switched from nipple to nipple while I was driving."

You close your eyes again, enjoying the sensations that your touch send through your body. You rock and squirm, rolling your head in relaxed pleasure.

"It wasn't too long before this wasn't enough," you continued dreamily. "I was feeling it . . . down there . . ."

You abandon one of your nipples and reach down to the skirt. Delicately, you pinch the hem and draw it up.

"You're not wearing panties."

You smile. "The dress didn't come with panties."

Your legs part as you reach for your exposed vulva. With your full hand you stroke your mons, pressing a little more firmly with your middle finger. Your breathing is becoming heavier.

You work your nipple more vigorously as you slowly work your finger further inside. You shudder as you brush your clitoris as I watch you, wanting you.

"You really did this while you were driving?"

You nod, biting your lip.

"It's a wonder you didn't have a wreck."

You smile silently watching my hard-on growing. Gradually you build up speed with your finger, concentrating it on your clitoris. You shudder as a sharp wave of pleasure jolts you. 

"Mmm," you sigh. ""Yes . . . I was ready for you when I got home. But I did one more thing in the car . . ."

You reach into the bag and raw out a long phallic silicon shaft. Thick and smooth, it resembles your purple one at home, except it was orange. It glistened with your moisture. My eyes widen and my jaw drops.

With a pleased giggle, you lower the toy between your spread legs. With your other hand you separate your labia while you rub the shaft of your toy between the folds of your moist flesh. You enjoy the sensation of it sliding across your clit. 

"If you had been hard when I got back, this would have been you."

You point the dildo straight into your body. Firmly, you press as you swallow the toy into your gaping and ready vagina. 

"Yeah, you sigh. "This should have been you."

Sitting naked on the chair, my hands tied behind me, my arousal is complete.

With one and you slowly work the dildo in and out of your hungry cavity. You rub your clitoris with your other hand.

"Ooo," you gasp. "This feels good."

"It looks good." My own hungry member twitches and bounces helplessly. A small bead of pre-cum appears on the end.

"Mmm . . . that feels real good."

Your legs are propped on your heels, your thighs spread far apart. You rock your hips, meeting each gentle thrust of your dildo as you rub your clitoris faster. Now I truly wish I had been hard for you when you came home. I desperately wanted to trade places with your dildo.

"Are you sorry, now?"

"I am. I really am."

You bite your lip and grunt.

"Okay . . . If you're sorry . . . come close to me . . ."

I lean forward, ready to stand.

"On your knees." 

I stop and slide down the chair to my knees. I waddle close to you and stop between your legs. Your eyes are glazed because of the sensations you launched through your body. My rigid hard-on points straight ahead, bursting with blood filling it with hot desire.

Swiftly, you grab the back of my head and pull my face into your crotch.

No word from you is needed. My tongue immediately complies with your need. I lick and kiss and suck your clitoris as I nibble at the soft folds that surround it. It seems like I slobber over your sex for ages. I am surprised you don't orgasm. You press my mouth between your legs. I drink in your salty musk, consuming your delicious juices.

With a loud shriek, you push my head away.

"Ah!" You gasp for air. "I nearly came!"

As you catch your breath you notice my erection. You smirk, a feeling of superiority washing through your breast as you marvel at the power your display has over my flesh. You reach for it.

"It's warm," you say, stroking it.

I had to steel myself to keep from cuming. You notice.

"Are you close?"

I nod.

"Too bad. I still have plans for you."

You pull out the dildo and drop it on the couch. You stand and your skirt falls, covering you charms.

"Stand up," you tell me. You stick your arms back through the dress straps, covering your bare skin again with the sexy little dress.

"Let's see how hard you are."

You grab my penis and squeeze. With all your strength you hold me in your firm clutches. I was helpless in your powerful grip. A pleasant burn spread through my genetalia, tingling and warm.

"You are very hard."

Gripping my hardness like a handle, you scoop up the bag and walk briskly to the bedroom, dragging me by my penis.

The bed is a four-poster with short posts. You pull me to its side and push me onto it. As I wallow, you retrieve two ropes from the bag. They have clips on one end and a loop on the other. Swiftly you wrap the clip end around one of my ankles, clip the rope to itself and pull. As I tumble off balance, you throw the loop over a bedpost.

I put up a fight as you try to do the same with my other foot, but it is mostly for show. We are both having fun and I want to be captured by you. Soon both of my legs are lashed to opposite bedposts on the footboard, spreading them far apart, my hard penis thrust into the air.

As I lay on the bed catching my breath, you draw a third rope, like the others, from the bag. You toss the bag carelessly away. Deliberately you pull on the rope, sensuously slipping your fingers across it, pulling it taut. You bite your lip, your eyes gleaming.

You bend over me; your hair brushes my chest and stomach. You reach under me, behind me for my hands.

"Don't you dare try anything," you warn.

You release one of my wrists and pull my hands in front of me. You slip my free hand quickly back into the restraints and pull them firmly tight. Then you clip the rope to the restraints between my hands. Crawling onto the bed on your knees, you pull the rope and my arms over my head and drop the loop over a short post in the middle of the headboard.

Now I am truly bound and helpless.

You giggle.

"Now I can take you how I want."

A low distant thunder rolled heavily in the distance. A light rain began to fall, the sound magnified by the tin roof of our bungalow. A cool gentle breeze blows through the open window above our bed churning the wispy curtains. You smile as the breeze gently tosses strands of your hair.

Still in your dress, you sit down beside me with your legs curled underneath you.

"I can do anything to you I want," you say.

My rigid hard-on strains upward. You reach out and barely clasp it in your fingers. Slowly you stroke as you watch my body twitch in response. I long for you to take me and receive my hot seed. I am desperate to fill you.

You sit up and straddle my thigh as you continue to lightly finger my erection. You bring both hands into it, stroking my whole shaft, fondling my testicles, full of juice ready to come at your will.

"You're very aroused, aren't you?"

I moan.

You press your vulva into my thigh.

"I'm kind of liking this," you say as you rock your wet flesh into my leg. "I like being in control."

I moan more pitiably and you release my penis, knowing I was close, wanting to make me wait as you pleasure yourself on me.

"I think you like it, too."

You lift off my thigh and straddle my stomach. I feel your moist flesh slide against my skin under your dress. You lead forward, planting your elbows by my ears, pushing your hips back. You allow my hardness to slip between your buttocks. You kiss me hard, your tongue plowing through my lips.

Your hair drapes over our faces as you suck and slurp my mouth. You press your hips down on me with all your weight, grinding your vulva into my pubic bone.

You break our kiss with a smack and sit up, sliding your knees to my armpits and planted your dampening sex onto my chest. You look down at me, my arms stretched over my head, and smile with wanton lust. When you raise yourself to your knees I can see the swelling folds of your sex glistening under your dress.

You lift your skirt and thrust your hips forward. Your moist flesh is just over my face. I can feel your heat and smell your arousal. I inhale deeply, drawing your aroma inside me. I strain forward, upward trying to capture your desire with a kiss, but you hover just out of reach.

"So, you want that, do you?"

I moan again, pulling against the cords that securely held me.

"Okay," you chirp. "But not yet," you add fiendishly.

I twist and writhe in response.

"Anxious, aren't you?"

You step back on your knees and place your hands on my shoulders. You press your warm velvety vulva down on my body.

"Don't worry. I will let you taste me soon. I want something else first."

Bracing yourself on my shoulders, you drive your sex down across my body. I feel your moist lips slather your juices on my skin as you slide down the length of my torso. I feel your skirt as your bottom nudges up against my erection. As you continue pushing, my erection folds under your hips and I feel your warm moistness slide over my shaft.

You sigh. You are ready, too.

You raise your hips. My penis pulls up with you, finding and pressing snuggly into your open crease, but you don't let me enter all the way as you stroke yourself over my rigid shaft.

"Mmm . . . This is touching my clitoris nicely . . ." You close your eyes as you rock over my flesh.

Then you open your eyes. You raise yourself slightly and rotate your hips just enough to admit my hardness into your cavern. Little by little you lower yourself over my long member, impaling yourself on me.

I groan as I am enveloped under your dress.

We both absorb the sweet sensations of your slow gentle humping. But I was so aroused, I was on the verge of blowing my entire load. You felt me twitching inside you and froze.

"Not so fast. I still have plans for you," you say, holding my hardness still inside you. You wait until the urgency passes, and hop off me, sliding off the bed.

I see you standing beside the bed, posing. You are gorgeous, beautiful, and blindingly sexy and the dress just enhances it all. But, it had to go.

You gently undo the belt and allow it to fall open. One at a time, you slip the straps off your shoulder and drop your arms. The bodice falls over the belt baring your soft smooth breasts, each orb topped with a stiff nipple.

Leisurely you flex your hips. The dress slips, bit by bit down your waist and over your hips until it tumbles to the floor as a bright flicker of lightning illumines your stunning nudity. You present to me the visual feast of your nude body. Tied to the bed, it is a cruel tease to see you like this and not hold you in my arms pressing our flesh together. It is also unbelievably arousing. Thunder rolls long and distant.

You stroke the length of your nude body deliberately, allowing one hand to settle over a rigid nipple while your other hand falls to your vulva. You pet yourself, your fingers straying between your legs as you flick your nipple. You close your eyes and relax, rolling your head as sweet sensations roll through your body.

I jerk and flail.

"What's the matter? Are you afraid I'm going to save all the fun for myself?"

"Uhnngh," I grunt sharply.

"That's a strong reaction. Maybe I will give myself an orgasm, just to tease you."

You bite your lower lip and soft grunts escape your lips to betray the flashes of pleasure you are giving yourself. My hard penis bounces as I fight my bonds.

"I like that idea. But, I think I want to play with you some more, first."

You crawl onto the bed next to me and sit up on your knees. Your thighs are spread facing me. You resume stroking your nipples and vulva. I watch as you slip a finger inside your genital lips. You plunge it deep into your vagina, coating it with your sweet lube and gently stroking your clitoris.

Your sweet musky scent fills my nostrils. I squirm and yank at my bonds, straining to escape, to touch you, to take you.

You smile at my turmoil, knowing I'm in agony as I watch you, wanting you as you touch yourself. With a smirk, you throw a leg over my chest, your back to me, and slide back until my chin rests securely between your buttocks.

You turn your attention to my rigid penis. Gripping my shaft loosely you stroke its length leisurely up and down, up, down. I twist and jerk. With your other hand, you fondle my testicles, rubbing my soft velvety flesh in your fingers.

Afraid I will lose it, I try to wiggle away from your touch. You will not release me and I have to control myself despite the burning of impending arousal. Instead you lean forward and lay over me until I can feel your warm breath over the hypersensitive tip of my penis. Your hair falls over softly over the skin of my abdomen and thighs, settling across my skin.




Trust



I moan as you kiss the end of my penis. Unhurriedly, your moist lips envelop the end of my shaft. As you take me into your mouth, your wandering tongue brushes my glans. You slowly pump up and down the full length of my hardness inside your moist lips.

I toss and squirm in the turmoil of sensations shooting through my body. I buck and pitch, spinning out of control as you play with my genitals in your mouth.

You press into me as I twist. My writhing causes your butt to slide closer to my face. You roll your hips, raising your fragrant sex. I tuck my chin so your vulva merges into contact with my mouth. 

"What are you doing down there?" you ask holding my shaft pressed into your cheek, wet from your saliva.

"I'm trying to taste you."

"Mmm . . . taste away." Your words fade as you fill your mouth to eat me.

I open my mouth to receive your soft, warm arousal. I drink freely of the sweet nectars pouring from your cavern depths to my hungry lips, and strain to taste more while you dazzle me with your mouth.

With my whole face between your legs, my nose slides in and out of your vagina. All I can see is your perineum and the length of the lovely valley running between your buttocks.

Suddenly you raise yourself and turn around. Straddling my torso, you giggle as you slide yourself down toward my tortured member. My blood engorged sex strains upward, red and moist with your spit and my pre-cum. You lift yourself over it. Your wetness and mine mix to form the perfect lube as you deliberately impale yourself on my hardness. Our moist flesh smacks softly as it slides together until you sit on my body with me tucked securely inside.

"You feel warm. Its luscious how you fill me."

"I agree."

With gentle thrusts at first, you begin to slowly hump me. Gradually, you increase your pace, little by little, faster and faster, frantic and hard. Your hair flails and flies as you pound my bound flesh vigorously. Your breasts bounce in your hands as you work your nipples.

You pleasure yourself on me deeply and completely until you sense the tell-tale tenseness and twitching of my impending explosion. You shoot off of me, landing astride my waist.

"Not yet," you gently chide.

My abandoned flesh glistens in the air, my orgasm prevented, frozen in hardened desire. I am unable to come down. You are concerned only with your own surging urges.

You slide quickly forward and raise your insatiable sex over me, and plaster me with your full desire, covering my face with your vulva. I open my mouth to receive your hard genital kiss fully. Your inner lips seal with my lips as I thrust my tongue deep into your moist flesh, filling my face with your sweet musky nectar. 

You tower over me, fingering your nipples blissfully when a sudden gust of wind blows through the window. We are blanketed with a sheet of warm rain. Droplets trickle down your smooth flesh.

I drink you in as you press yourself into my face, grinding into my face with such force that it feels like my whole head could enter you. And I wouldn't mind. The only breath I can take is saturated with your scent, and the smell of the rain on your skin, overwhelming me with your thick intoxicating arousal.

I drink you flesh, breath your passion and fill myself with your pleasure. You roll your hips, grinding your vulva repeatedly over my face. My mouth finds your clitoris and I lock onto your nub.

Sucking and licking, I fan the pulsing winds of fire in your body. You grunt and squeal and your flesh trembles in my mouth as you grind my face even deeper into your voracious hunger. You thrust over my whole face slathering my nose eyebrows and chin with the viscous moisture pouring from your enflamed slit.

"I could go like this," you grunt over the rising tumult of the storm, in rhythm with the humping you give my face.

Instead you pause and unlatch my bound wrists from the rope on the headboard.

"I think I want your hands on my breasts."

As you release my hands you allow one of the ropes around my wrist to slip. I yank my hand out and clutch your thighs, wiggling to get from under you. 

Lightning flashes and all the lights in the bungalow are extinguished. Thunder quickly replies with a roar as the downpour outside transforms to a tempest throwing rain with deafening force on the tin roof.

I strain to lift you off my face, pushing you against the tension of my still bound ankles. Little by little I push against your desperate attempts to clamp me down between your thighs.

You hold my arms as I try to wrestle you off of me. Despite your advantage, I throw you to the side while you hold onto my arms laughing. Giggling and grunting, we strain against each other. As you tumble, I reach down and loose one of my ankle constraints. Quickly, I wrap it around your ankle and clip it as you pounce on me.

Another violent gust of wind blows a wall of rain into our bedroom, soaking us both. 

Our wet naked flesh twists and writhes, grinding and sliding together as we wrestle on the bed. Bare skin slaps together with smacks and splashes, pressing together, sliding, lubricated with an additional sheen of sweat raised by our exertions. Limbs tangle as we seek leverage over the other's flesh. 

You grab my penis, long and rigid, like a handle. I grab your buttock, filling my hand with your smooth round flesh. Both of us squeeze and pull. We grab any body part as opportunity grants, not so much to gain control, but to take advantage of the opportunity to grope each other's nakedness.

Similarly, we kiss and lick and mouth whatever skin happens to be near, drinking the rain water from each other's flesh. It is salty with our sweat.

With one leg still tied, I roll you onto your back and fall on top of you. You fling your arms over your head, beginning to surrender.

I hold your wrists as you writhe beneath me and I capture your lips in my mouth, still glistening with your juices. I kiss you hard.

We grunt and squeal into our open mouths as our lips seal. Our tongues rake each other's palates as we drink each other's saliva.

I twist around so our bodies are parallel and slide on top of you. My penis presses between the top of your thighs. You wrap your free leg around my body. The tip of my stiff member pops inside you, barely penetrating your inner lips.

You pull and jerk your arms, struggling against me as I thrust them upward. Bit by bit, I overpower you. You are unable, or unwilling to resist me as I finally pin your arms above you.

I gather your hands and slip them into the double loops of soft rope I have just escaped and close them firmly around your wrists. You continue struggling and resisting under me, I still barely inside you. I grab the rope that tied my wrists to the bed, still looped to the headboard. I latch it to your wrists, securing your arms above you.

We are blinded by an intense flash of lightning. An explosive crack of thunder causes our hearts to skip.

I hold your head in my hands and force you to kiss me. Holding your mouth in mine, I roll my hips forward. My penis feels no resistance sliding into your warm vulva. As your flesh yields, I push faster and thrust deep inside you, pinning you to the bed.

I rise up on my arms and concentrate my full weight on my hips. I thrust firmly and bounce swiftly, sharply bouncing you with me until I begin to feel my orgasm approaching. I freeze.

I hold you there until you cease struggling and surrender to me completely. You look delectable, splayed out on the bed, twisting and writhing naked, pulling against your restraints and finding you are inescapably seized.

The cords holding our ankles have twisted together in our struggle. With you now subdued, I slip my penis out of you and unlatch my bound ankle. I untwist the ropes and gently tie your other leg by the ankle.

I stand on my knees beside you. Your skin is glistening and your chest heaving from our exertions and your desire. Your nipples are tight and erect. Your arms are extended over your head. You tussled hair lays scattered about your head.

Your legs are spread far apart, tied to the footboard. Your bare vulva is laid open, exposed to my whim. Your swollen lips still glisten. I can smell your arousal.

I reach out and touch the soft flesh of your tummy. You flinch.

"You're mine, now. I conquered you," I say triumphantly.

"Aren't I always?"

You bite your lip and squirm, stretching your cords.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Pillage you."

Glancing at my hot rigid penis, you say, "I hope you can find a place for that."

"I'll manage." I smile.

With both hands, I tenderly, leisurely stroke your stripped and tied body. I brush over your rib cage and, around your areoles. I brush your armpits and the soft flesh under your arms, your face, cheeks, jaw, temples and neck. I lazily retrace the path and on to your thighs.

Gradually I begin to lightly scratch your skin. I encroach upon your erogenous zones, your inner thigh, your pubic hair, breasts, sporadically brushing a nipple.

You sigh and tremble as my touch becomes more intimate. As one hand continues to roam your nakedness, the other gravitates to your pubic region I cup your mons and rub my palm down over your swollen labia, working them side to side, separating them.

I keep my middle finger centered there, while my other hand concentrates on your nipples. I press more with my middle finger, dragging it past your outer lips. I begin to encounter your moistness. 

While I manipulate your nipple with the other hand, I slip my finger all the way inside your flesh. You twist and moan as I brush your clitoris, and continue rubbing you there. As I penetrate your vagina, I stroke your clitoris harder with each stroke.

The flesh around your vulva and inner thighs begins to tremble, and I withdraw my hand.

"Don't stop," you complain.

"You don't have a say in that anymore."

I step over your leg and position myself over your bare sex, splayed wide open. I brush my fingernails lightly across the inside of your thighs, up and over your abdomen. You twitch and pull against the ropes that hold you exposed to me. I tenderly tug on the bright red strands of your pubic fur before fondling your fleshy labia.

"See anything you want?" you ask, your voice trembling.

I insert a finger, then two, pressing them all the way inside you, wiping them across the inside of your vagina, soaking them with the waters bubbling up inside. I draw them out, nearly dripping, and hold them to your lips. You open your mouth eagerly and suck my fingers, gently thrusting your head and your hips.

"Would you want that?" I ask.

Gently you bob your head.

"Yes," you reply.

I smile and scoot back down to the throbbing center of your desire, dragging my fingers from your mouth. I position my face just over your vulva. I fondle your soft flesh in my fingers. My warm breath covers your open desire. 

I brush my cheek against your smooth thighs. I spread your labia and look at your tight sex. Your clitoris juts upward, pulsing. You try to press your heels to the bed to raise your sex to my mouth, but the ropes prevent you.

I lower my lips to yours and kiss you tenderly. Warm and moist, the smell of your excitement excites me. I gently tug on your genital folds with my lips, gradually sucking them into my mouth, swirling them with my tongue.

My tongue darts to explore the center of your desire, ready for me to feast upon you. I do feast licking and sucking, savoring and smelling with special attention to your clitoris.

You pull and writhe against the rope, desperate to plant your hungry sex further over my darting tongue. I latch onto your clitoris and suck, hard. I continue sucking as your gasps and squeals become loud, drawn out desperate moans. And I stop.

You buck.

"Don't stop!" you scream, and you buck again.

"I still have other plans for you," I reply.

I step out from between your legs and move closer to the headboard on my knees. You lean your head forward. Your eyes are fixed on my rigid hardness, nearly purple from the intensity of my arousal. You open your mouth to receive me.

"Not yet, but soon," I assure you as you flop your head back onto the mattress.

I straddle your waist. My testicles fall hard and warn on your tummy. I lean forward, pressing my penis into your soft flesh. Slowly I thrust, masturbating myself over your skin, spreading my sticky pre-cum all over.

I reach back for your vulva. You are warm and soaking wet. My fingers find your hard clit. Slowly I massage it while I hump your tummy.

"Mmm . . . ," I sigh. "I like this."

You quietly rock your hips on my hand.

"Maybe I'll go like this . . . Spew my hot juice all over your bare breasts . . ."

"No. I want you inside." You smile. "I want to feel your hard penis inside me when you shoot off. I want you to pour your hot semen inside me. Fill me."

"Sounds nice," I smile. I stroke my penis against your tender skin. "Maybe I'll do that."

I move up your body, sliding my arousal just under your areola. I thrust against your soft orb and prod and poke. I reach for my hardness, directing it to your nipple. The tip collides with your nipple and you flinch. I thrust, holding my hardness so the end circles and flicks your stiff nipple. I smile as you moan and twist.

I step away and lower my mouth to your breast. I flick the tip of your nipple lightly with my tongue. You squirm. I allow my lips to surround it and brush it with my teeth. Your response as you twist and squirm each time I stimulate you enthralls me. As I suck and lick, tasting my semen mixed with your sweat, I know there is a direct connection from your breast to between your legs.

I release your breast with a loud smack and slide further up. You open your mouth eagerly, watching my hard-on approach. You reach for the shaft with your tongue as it passes like a dirigible over your face. You whimper.

I lower my testicles. You open wide to receive my velvety scrotum. Gently you lick and suck each testicle. I savor your mouth. I begin to lift away. You hold me with the suction of your mouth, stretching my sack, pulling each chamber gently until they pop out of your mouth.

I shift and my erection hits your face. I rub my hard-on over your cheeks and nose and under your chin, marking you with trails of pre-cum.

I lay my shaft across your wide open mouth like a hot dog on a bun. You clamp your lips around my member, your tongue darting. I slowly pump my shaft across your mouth before I allow you to take the tip into your mouth; only the tip.

I moan as you lick and suck my most sensitive spot. Gradually, I press my shaft further into your oral cavity. I like how my engorged member inside your mouth distorts your face, your jaws dropped and cheeks hollowed. I press into your mouth pressing against the inside of your cheek, causing a lump to rise outside.

I angle straighter into your mouth, pressing myself further into your throat. You suck and bob your head as I slowly hump your face. As I thrust your mouth, I reach for a nipple. I flick and gently tug on its stiffness. You moan into my flesh as you buck.

You suck hard as I withdraw. My rod bounces free, wobbling stiffly and spreading strands of fluid across your face and collarbone.

I descend onto your mouth with mine, devouring your sweet lips and tongue. I enjoy the taste of my juices mixed with your saliva. I reach down your body as we share our flavors and dip a finger into the well between your legs. Your juices are flowing.

I reach deep inside you with my fingers, coating them with your lovely dew and I vigorously pound your clitoris. You scream into my mouth.

I jump from your mouth to your chest, smacking your nipple with my tongue as I swallow your breast. I continue working your clit. You shriek and twist, writhing in ecstasy. But I'm not stopping there.

I leap around alighting between your legs. I stretch my legs out over the low footboard facing you, gazing at your glistening and glowing sex. I devour you with burning intensity as you tremble in my mouth. I am famished to consume you. I long to have you inside of me and be inside of you at the same time.

I suck hard on your clitoris. You buck and scream, convulsing and thrashing on the sheets. I clamp down on you, controlling you by your clitoris, as you jerk and yank against your restraints, which hold you fast.

I suddenly release you throbbing nub and kneel between your legs. I aim my starving sex at yours. I thrust deliberately into you, passing your outer lips and entering without the slightest resistance. I drill your smooth warm depths. I loom over you. You are powerless to resist and eager to receive.

"You look fantastically sexy like that."

"Like what?"

"Tied up. Naked. Your legs open for me."

"That's hot."

"Do you like it?"

"Do I like it when you capture me and plunder me?"

I stick my thumb into your vagina, jamming it in beside my shaft. It emerges coated with your slick juice. I find your clitoris and rub small slow circles around it.

"Oh! . . . Don't stop!"

I tenderly thrust you as I tease your clit. Then I withdraw my hardness and go down on you again. I thrust my tongue into the cavity my stiff member has just vacated. I taste your luscious sex, mixed with the flavor of my own.

I gorge myself on your aromatic savory sex juice focusing my tongue on the center of your bliss. You squeal and writhe, thrashing against your fetters as I tease you to the brink of explosion.

I pull my mouth up and out of your crevice, stealing one last long draught of your rich wine. I crawl over your body and take your mouth in mine, planting my rigid rod at the entrance within your parted legs. With one swift hard thrust, I invade you.

You whimper into my mouth tasting your own rich arousal in my mouth. I kiss you hard as I hump you, bouncing your body underneath me and grinding our sex together.

Suddenly, I descend to your helpless dripping vulva and devour you again. I stop, crawl up and pierce you again.

Thunder explodes earth shattering force. We hear the sound of shattering wood nearby as a tree snaps as it is stuck by lightning. We both gasp and jump at its violence and our hearts quicken, stirred by the roiling weather and the tempest of our excitement. Rain pours over our enflamed flesh. Large drops collide with our naked skin, hitting us with a sharp, mildly stinging impact.

I thrust harder, pounding you rapidly in the rain. My orgasm is rising inside me about to spill out. I writhe and thrash uncontrollably. This time I am ready to explode. I thrust harder, faster, harder. I begin to moan and wail without inhibition as the fire in my loins surges through my whole body.

My orgasm erupts inside you as another thunderclap shakes the bungalow. Semen splashes against the inner wall of your vagina spilling out through your sex. The warm driving rain surging through our window immerses us.

Your deep chasm cannot contain the massive volume of my seed and leaks out around my shaft spilling down your perineum, through the crevice between your butt cheeks. You feel my warm fluid pooling around your anus.

"How was it?" you ask. "Was it good?"

"You can't imagine."

I lay spent over your naked body, lashed to the bed and splayed open, still shuddering from the last spasms of my orgasm.

After a few deep breaths, I lift myself. My hardness has not yet diminished, but I withdraw anyway. You look at me desperately, stirring and wriggling in the soaking sheets. My semen is still leaking from your vulva, coating your labia, your bottom and your inner thighs. I smell your arousal mixed with my strong musky cum.

I slide back, admiring your inviting helplessness.

"Please . . . Get me off," you shout over the din of the deafening

storm.

I smile.




Trust



"You gotta let me orgasm," you plead. "Please touch me or something."

"Or something?"

"Yeah . . . You could get that toy . . ."

"I could."

I cup your vulva in my hand and slip my thumb into your wet slit. I caress your sex, teasing your clitoris.

"Faster . . ." you whimper.

I slow down instead.

"I need to orgasm! I'll never get off like this . . ."

"Is it keeping you aroused?"

"So close . . ."

"That's what I want."

You release a long loud moan, straining and stretching against the ropes. The tease of my hand and the rain drops pelting your naked skin as you lay tied and vulnerable seems tortuous, but your arousal is building.

I decide it's time. I slide down and lower my face to your desperate swollen sex. The sweet tangy aroma of your extended arousal and my semen wafts into my nose. Cum is still trickling from your vagina.

I place my fingers on your engorged lips and pull them apart, exposing your inner sanctum to my gaze and see pools of milky fluid inside you. I lower my head, mouth open wide, tongue extended and lick your juicy flesh from the bottom of your semen soaked slit, into your vagina and over your dark swollen clit.

I gather a mouthful of your lube and my cum, swallowing the savory concoction. I drink more and more, the distinction between yours and mine diminishing with each slurp.

As I clean out your sex, I concentrate more on feeding your desire. I lick and kiss and suck on your clitoris. Already on the brink, you can't hold back. You don't try.

With a loud penetrating shriek, the muscles around your vulva seize. I feel you trembling with my tongue and I can tell your release is monstrous, volatile, violent. The intensity of your screams and the quaking power of your release eclipses the roiling cyclone outside as you convulse in spasms and gasps and shrieks.

You jerk in the grasp of the final seizures of your glorious release. My mouth remains sealed over your glorious sex as your orgasm subsides.

When you are still, I withdraw my mouth. I turn around and lift the loops of rope from the foot posts, freeing you from the bonds that hold your legs apart. I gently stroke your thighs as I savor the remnants of your orgasm. I slide up beside you and remove one wrist from the lovely grip of the rope, lifting the loop from the headboard. You are liberated to wrap me in a warm tight embrace, urgently kissing me.

I return your grateful kiss, easily as pleased with your lovemaking as you are with mine. It doesn't matter that rope still loosely clasps your wrist and ankles. We embrace and the long loose cords entangle us both as we lay together in each other's arms. It doesn't matter that we are both drenched from the warm rain and that the bed is soaked. We are still warm and it feels nice.

There are no words. Nothing can be said that captures the intimacy of the tryst we've just shared. We are bound with ropes stronger that the paltry rope with which we bind each other to the bed. None of it would be possible without our trust.

But one thing had to be said, far more important than the trite sound of it.

"Thank you."

Whispered under the soft pattering of the subsiding rain on the tin roof, it is enough.



Trust



* This is my first story I have submitted so I hope you like. It is quite tame compared to other stories on this site however as I said, first submission so really I'm just putting my feelers out there. Oh and all spelling mistakes are mine alone. Please be gentle Jacinta_Gray. :D *




Jacinta opened the bedroom door and saw him sitting up in bed asleep, as though he had been too tired to lie down properly. She studied him for a moment, feeling better now that she could see him. Daemon had promised to keep her safe and had in fact saved her life earlier that day from the people that were trying to kill her. Jacinta hadn't known him very long; days really, nonetheless she trusted him completely. Daemon made her feel safe. She made to back out of the doorway and close it, when he opened his eyes. They stared at each other for a few minutes, his eyes full of confusion and hers full of longing. She made a decision and came into the room shutting the door behind her. 

"You should be sleeping." Daemon said wondering what Jacinta was doing in his room.

"Couldn't see you, I got scared," she replied, "Ok if I sleep with you?"

"Oh, ah, I... I don't think..." He stammered,

"Please," Jacinta interrupted, "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep otherwise."

Daemon held his arms open as she got under the covers of the bed and cuddled up to him. Jacinta could feel herself getting excited now that she was in his arms, the heat that she had been feeling earlier when she was near him was washing over her and she hoped that she wasn't making it up, she couldn't have faced him if he rejected her; the look he was giving her said she wasn't. After a few minutes Jacinta slowly reached her hand out and traced her fingers lightly over the scars on his chest and abdomen.

"So many scars," she stated, "so much pain you've been through."

"Yes" Daemon answered shortly "I have. But I will try my best to keep you safe and protect you from these assholes."

As he spoke, he looked into her eyes and she could see the honesty in them. He loved her body and the fact that she was in his arms and could feel her plump curves for himself was affecting him as his cock started becoming hard, he tried willing it down before she noticed and thought he was a pervert. Jacinta decided to risk it and trailed her fingers lower down his stomach, moving down to the waistband of his boxer shorts.

"Hey... careful," he said reaching for her hand "it's late and it's not a good idea to be starting something."

"I know it's probably not," she replied "but I don't care right now, I want... you." She kissed his shoulder and then his neck.

"Ok look," Daemon said "you're tired, scared and on the run from some very bad people. If you want to sleep here tonight that's fine just behave. You don't know what you're doing."

She kissed his cheek and looked him in the eyes; He was a very sweet man. "I am fully aware of what I am doing and what I want and I don't want to be alone tonight." Jacinta stated with conviction, "Do not worry, you are not taking advantage of me."

She got on her knees and straddled him. Leaning forward she kissed him softly. With a groan, he kissed her back and she responded just as fervently. Lips locked, teeth clashed, tongues probed and swept around each other's mouths as his hands ran up and down her body to settle around her fleshy hips, he flipped her underneath him, and as Daemon settled in between her ample thighs, Jacinta moaned against his mouth.

"Uh yes..." she hissed, "I've wanted to feel you on top of me for days now." Daemon kissed his way down her neck towards her chest; she twined her legs around him digging her heels into his thighs, trying to get him as close to her as possible.

"I've wanted you since we first met." Daemon said baring her breasts and groaning appreciatively; her nipples were like hard pebbles upon her D cups breasts and he bent his head to capture one. As his tongue encircled her puffy right nipple, Jacinta arched her back as if to invite him to take her entire breast into his mouth; pleasure spiked through her body as he ground his crotch into her pussy driving her wild. She cradled his head to her chest and tightened her legs around him moaning as her hips started to move with him. Jacinta ran her hands up and down his back, scratching slightly and feeling his muscles working; she reached his hips and struggled to get his boxer shorts off. Daemon shimmied his hips helping her; she managed to bare his ass and cupping it with her hands gave it a slight squeeze before digging her nails in and pulling him closer, at the same time his hands tugged at her top pulling it up over her head and reached down to remove her underwear tearing them in the process.

"Shit," he panted "Sorry did I hurt you?"

"No keep going" Jacinta assured him helping get them off her "Please – fuck me!" in answer he kissed her hard.

Daemon reached down and placing his hand on her pussy he slid a finger up and down her slit, circling her clitoris teasing her, before sliding two fingers deep inside her, she was so wet her pussy made a squelching sound as he pumped them in and out moving his hand faster and faster. Her breathing quickened as she started feeling her climax approach

"God... yes!" Jacinta panted "don't... don't stop Daemon, keep going...yes... right there like that" grinding her hips faster as it built higher "Daemon ah ahh." Jacinta exclaimed.

Her climax hit her hard and left her limp. Daemon grinned fiendishly slowly running his thumb around her clit. Smiling back at him her eyes were hazy as Jacinta reached down grabbing his cock she wrapped her hand around it, pumping her fist up and down she felt it throb in her hand, "hmm." he moaned. He quickly got on his knees between her thighs parting them and guided his throbbing cock into her, she moaned as she felt the head of his cock slide into her. He waited a second that seemed a lifetime as he felt the walls of her pussy pulsing as he let her get used to his size, it felt to him as if she was trying to suck him into her; Jacinta couldn't wait any longer and wriggled her hips trying to get him to move. Daemon gave in and pushed hard into her to the hilt and stopped, locking eyes with her.

"You're so tight." he whispered,

"You're so deep inside me, so big." She replied staring wonderingly into his eyes. They kissed deeply, he rocked his hips to mirror the action of his tongue, and as he found his rhythm, she moved with him. 

"Aw... god Daemonnnnn!" Jacinta groaned as she broke off the kiss, moaning with pleasure as he rocked in and out of her. She could feel another orgasm ripping through her, her whole body was sizzling.

"Ah, ah yes, yes, Daemon don't stop," Jacinta panted.

He felt his stomach muscles tightening and knew that he had to take it easy and slow down if he wanted to make it good. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something other than what he was doing. It was difficult because she felt so good and every time he thrust into her, a wet slapping noise sounded as his sack hit her ass cheeks. 

Daemon grabbed hold of her wrists and pulled her hands over her head holding them with his left hand while his right ran across her breasts, pinching her nipples "Yes!" she hissed. He grabbed hold of her right breast and squeezed; she writhed underneath him. He slapped it and she squealed.

"You like that?" Daemon asked her, "you like it rough don't you?"

She nodded her assent too ashamed to reply, "Answer me!" he shouted grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking it,

"Yes!" Jacinta howled her eyes glowing with arousal.

He let go of her hair and wrists, lifted her legs up and turned her over onto her hands and knees keeping his cock buried inside her. He teased her pulling his cock almost all the way out of her, running the tip up and down in her juices;

"What do you want?" he asked smacking her plump ass, she bounced backwards trying to get him to fill her once more.

"Naha not yet," he growled "tell me what you want first!"

"Pull my hair and smack my ass harder!" Jacinta said pleasure flushing through her as her body tingled in response to his hands; no one had made her feel like this for a very long time.

Grabbing hold of her hair, he thrust into her the same time as he wrapped it around his fist. "Daemonnnnn...." She moaned louder feeling another orgasm building up through her body higher and harder than before.

Daemon could see her pussy juices pouring out of her when he pushed into her and run down his balls and her thighs "You like that don't you?" he declared thrusting harder,

"Yes!" Jacinta assured him panting hard, "Fuck me... uggghh... pound me... harder!"

Daemon did just that, and grabbing hold of her hip with his free hand he pounded in and out of her soaking pussy as fast as he could while watching her butt cheeks ripple under the force of his pumping hips.

His body started twitching as his climax approached, "Ah, ah, Daemon..." closing her eyes, Jacinta moaned louder feeling his cock become thicker inside her

"Ah, ah, fuck me Daemon...Yesssssss!" squealed Jacinta saw stars as her climax hit,

"Fuck... shit... take it bitch!" Daemon roared as he came spurting deep inside her, he froze for a moment feeling her pussy walls clenching around him as she milked his cock, he shuddered as the last few spurts came out and slumped on top of her resting his head on her shoulder.

Breathing harshly, they could not move to look each other in the face to exhausted; Jacinta didn't mind she liked the feeling of him on top burying her knowing that she had satisfied her man well, she grinned and turning her head kissed his forehead.

Pulling his cock out of her, he kissed her neck and pushed himself on his side, "That was..." he whispered trying to catch his breath,

"Amazing..." she whispered back "no one has ever made me come so hard like that." Daemon chuckled, pleased with himself, and settled more comfortably against her.

Jacinta leaned on her elbows and looking him in the face for moment in confusion she asked, "I'm serious how..."

"Know you'd like it rough?" Daemon interrupted, she nodded blushing, "how you responded I suppose."

"I've never told that to anyone." Jacinta said reaching for his hand,

"Are you ok? I didn't hurt you did I?" Daemon queried,

"Absolutely fine. You didn't hurt me anymore than I wanted." Jacinta assured him, squeezing his hand a little.

Daemon placed his hand on her face and pulled her head down for a kiss "I'm glad" he said.

She tucked her head into his shoulder settling firmly against him. Her breathing deepened and became regular as she fell asleep. Daemon kissed the top of her head smiling proud of himself, then he frowned, "What have I done?" he whispered. He knew that having sex with her should never have happened; it would only complicate keeping her safe. He wasn't sorry about sleeping with her, Daemon had told her the truth when he said he had wanted her the moment he saw her. Now how am I going to tell her I used to work for Fletcher? He thought to himself. 



Trust



Jewel smiled as she sipped her glass of port. The dinner party had been an amazing success. The staff had been flawless, and even with the minor hiccups in the kitchen that the guests never saw, it all came together beautifully. Her body was tired, but her mind reeled in both reprimands at the problems, and congratulations at the successes of the evening. The smoke of cigars swirled around her as she sat quietly on the floor. The last of the guests began to make their way out for a full evening of fun and frivolity. Slowly she closed her eyes and let her shoulders fall forward across her knees, a gentle hand slowly stroked her hair with swirling conversation.

She had not noticed the last of the guests rise to leave. It was the sudden separation of the hand from her head that alerted her something was amiss. The body behind her rose, the voice above thanking the guest for a wonderful evening. Jewel tried to pull herself out of her own thoughts to no avail. She had not realized how separated she had become from the crowd around her,in the sudden realization that she had no doubt failed in some aspect of service in the last little while. Slowly her mind once again berated her on her misstep. Her emotions slipped into autopilot, the familiar tentacles of shielded numbness seeped through out her very soul. Apologies automatically formed, the recognition that there was no excuse for such a misstep took hold in her mind.

The figure behind her once again took its seat and slowly stroked her hair. Without warning a handful was taken up in a claw like fist and her head was pulled backward. She tried to look around in wide eyed wonderment but could only make out the ceiling of the tent above her.

"You did an amazing job this evening my dear, and yet I do not sense satisfaction from you." He said, while she could feel him probing her emotions, looking for the answer to her current state.

She threw on a smile and tried to force it through her eyes. "Glad to be of service Sir," she recited without thought.

He let her hair go abruptly and forced her head forward. She tried to quickly regain her balance so as to neither topple nor spill her glass of port.

"I see." he said quietly.

"And what pray tell do you see?" she said automatically.

This scene had played out countless times before and usually ended in light banter and conversation. Slowly Jewel closed her eyes and waited for the next move. It never came.

The glass was out of her hand before she could blink, and her hair was pulled straight up.

"Go inside and change into the outfit that has been laid out for you. Quickly." He stated firmly without further movement on his behalf.

In an act of quiet defiance over the change in pattern, Jewel walked slowly into the cabin and back towards her sleeping quarters. She was in no mood for sadistic games. Her body was tired and her mind had work to do. She needed to recount the evenings situations, find the flaws and think about how to correct the mistakes in the future. The determination in her step increased as she thought about lying down for a short bit to make this non-sense stop. She came up short when she saw the dress lying on the bed.

The black material looked as if it mimicked every curve on a woman's body. The skirt was so short she was sure that it would barely cover the edges of the cheeks of her ass. There were no undergarments, save for the garter and stockings, and the patent shoes sitting on the floor were something she recognized all too well.

Her mind raced. Her body screamed out of panic, exhaustion and a tinge of excitement. Somehow she was caught in her own world and did not hear him enter the cabin.

"I believe I said quickly. This does not look quick to me." He said firmly.

She started to make excuses. Reasons that this whole thing was a bad idea. Ideas for her to rest a bit, mainly so that he would forget and call the whole thing off.

"Get dress. Your delay will only make the inevitable worse." he almost growled the words.

Jewel turned to remove her garments. Quietly she folded each one with a practiced grace. She picked up the garter belt, placing it neatly around her waist. Turning around, she sat on the edge of the bed. The stocking felt smooth in her hand as she worked it with her fingers. Easing it up her leg, the softness of the nylon encased her leg. With the same motion she encased her other leg and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling.

She looked at the dress lying across the bed. It was shaped like an hourglass. The form would fit right next to every curve, and her mind filled in that it would show every bump and bulge. She dreaded the next move, but the steely eyes watched her every move in silence. Each second was costing her something, even if she did not currently know the cost.

Stepping into the top, the dress hugged her tightly. The seams were in just the right places to disguise any flaws, and to highlight her curves. As predicted the skirt skimmed the edge of her cheeks. Bending down would not be advisable, neither would walking at anything other than a calculated pace and sitting in anything other than the fashion of the Royal family would give the world a show of all she had to offer.

Finally she looked down at the shoes. Careful to bend in the most graceful way possible, although the dress refused to allow such things to happen, Jewel reached for her shoes and attempted to place them on her feet. Her struggle was allowed to continue for long moments. In a quiet move the figure beside her landed on a knee and placed the shoe on her foot. She hated him for making her unable to do it herself and yet was grateful that he had assisted her without the necessity to request it.

His voice pierced the silence of the room. "You are struggling. I can feel it. We are close to that moment, and yet in all this time you fear it. You fear what you are, what you will become, what we are, what we will become on the path ahead. Yet you know that it will complete you."


The words sounded as if they came from her thoughts. So similar were the mental images he produced, that she was almost sure she had spoken the words.

"Tonight, we correct that which you have refused to give to me. You will go down the path you are unable to face alone. In the events ahead you will face fear, you will face anger, you will face sadness, you will face pain, you will face the baggage you seem unable to jettison alone. In many ways you have been correct in your inability to do what is necessary alone. Those before me have tried and failed you. Each time you have held on even tighter. Each failure threatening to extinguish the radiance that glows, to remove the ability to live and only survive, until this moment you have either chosen to keep that baggage as a defensive wall or simply been unable to remove it. I no longer care why it is there. I care that it will not be there when we are done. In the wake of these moments I will prove my place. Your heart will call me by what it knows. " His voice was firm. It brokered no argument. It offered no ability to question. It was simply stated as if it were an obvious fact.

Jewel stared at her hands sitting in her lap. She dared not move. The path which he spoke was one that she'd looked at on more than one occasion. Each time the decision was made that either she was not strong enough, or the person leading her was not strong enough, to survive it. Decades of emotions were locked away. Torrents of memories best left behind. Slices of ego not allowed to see the light of day skirted the edges with hope. She had to refuse to walk it.

The disappointment threatened to take her under as her shoulders slowly rolled forward. Her mind reeled. She attempted to put together coherent thoughts, but her voice was gone. She had slipped into that space that was comfortable and dangerously vulnerable.

"Tonight you will face an ordeal. It will cleanse you. It will strengthen our bond. It will show you how to live." Without further conversation, he stood up. A blindfold snuffed out the last of the light. The sound of the leash clicking onto the collar encircling her neck could be heard.

"Lesson...trust." He said as he began to move forward. The leash became taunt, and Jewel could only attempt to follow the lead in the imposed darkness.

Jewel had to focus on each step. Her hands reached out into the darkness in a vain attempt to keep herself oriented and safe. Each step was shaky and unsure. Made all the more difficult by being six more inches in the air thanks to her shoes.

Sounds became louder. Focus on where each sound originated assisted her in finding her way. The leash stayed taunt. Relinquishing nothing to her struggles.

"Step down." His voice broke her focus.

She reached out her foot, tentatively shifting her weight, and stepped down.

"Again", came his command.

Once again she worked to move her way down the steps into the darkness.

Quickly she found herself walking on the grass. The leash never letting up.

"Out of the darkness the light is blinding. Yet each step takes you to the light." His voice caressed her ear. Her body startled and her mind raced. The leash was still taunt ahead of her, yet his very breath brushed her ear.

"You must trust my judgement. Know that I will allow no one to harm you, and yet I will force you through experiences that you would not otherwise choose to endure."

The leash jerked Jewel back into motion in front of her. Until that moment she did not realize she had stopped. Her head had followed his voice and snapped forward to focus on the insistent pull of the lead.

A few steps later she was halted. Each hand was grabbed and forced above her head. Wrists locked into shackles on the cross, ankles were bound and locked in place. Jewel pulled against each point.

The world around her was suddenly silent. You could hear the lilt of frivolity on the breeze as people talked and laughed nearby.

"She's wearing too many clothes!" A voice said out of the darkness. Jewel's head spun to mentally locate its source.

"What should we do about this problem?" He asked.

"Take off her dress so that we can at least see if the body under the dress is as hot as it is in the dress." The woman nearly purred at him.

"All in favor of taking off the dress, say aye." He said in a rye tone.

A crowd of voices joined in a chorus of "AYE" so enthusiastically that Jewel thought her heart would stop. She could not believe the amount of people so close to her location.

"Those opposed..." He began.

"NAY! NAY! I oppose!" Jewel cried out, struggling to make her voice sound strong.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted, those opposed, too bad!" He said with an evil laugh.

"I think this one may need a gag." A voice from the crowd offered.

The crowd laughed, and Jewel began to struggle against her bonds.

The hidden zipper split the fabric in two. Small snaps made quick work of the straps. Within seconds, Jewel stood exposed to the unseen crowd. Her only protection against the world were her garter belt, stockings and shoes. They now seemed like more of an invitation for trouble rather than a deterrent.

His voice came out of nowhere. "Trust means that you know I will protect you. In each experience between us, my hand is in it, even if it is unseen. I will always give you a way to identify those times."

A small soft hand began to caress her left breast. Jewel struggled with both the humiliation of the situation, and the pleasure of the touch.

"No matter what happens, I am always with you in that moment. You just have to use the link to reach out to me, rather than trying to run away into yourself." He continued as more hands joined in the mix.

A moan escaped her lips as the pleasure of the touch washed over he body. Her mind reeled and would not give into what was happening. She oscillated between struggling against her bond, and giving into the pleasure.

Waves of pleasure began to take hold. Hands covered every part of her body. Touching, caressing, holding and rubbing. Jewel's body moved under its own will. Moving toward and away from hands, her mind drifted away from thoughts of resistance. Struggles continued, but the interval between each one lengthened. When several long intervals had passed without a struggle, the hands left as suddenly as they started.

His strong voice whispered in her ear, "Trust leads to pleasure, because there is no struggle for control. In the type of relationship that we've chosen, one leads and the other follows. Struggles will happen. At times there will be stumbles. It is the ability to trust that makes the rest of the path possible. To move forward, you must trust."

Jewel's mind worked through the haze to hear the words being spoken. They made sense somewhere in the back of her mind, but the forefront wanted to stay in the pleasure induced haze.

"Do you trust me? Do you want to move forward?" He asked quietly.

Jewel nodded.

"I want to hear the words from your lips." His voice became firm, changing subtlety underneath.

Warning bell went off in the back of her mind, but her intuitive mind worked to turn them down.

"I trust you." She said lazily as her mind and body drifted on the pleasure.

"Good!" His voice was hard. The shackles popped open suddenly. The leash became taunt. "Lesson—Trust allows you to face fear!"



Trust



As she unlocked the door to the apartment all she could think of was how happy she was that the day was finally over. She had known as soon as she got out of bed this morning that it was going to be a bad one.

"Allow yourself plenty of time to get where you are going this morning," the radio dj had announced "all this rain has wrecked havoc on the morning commute, some tolls are reporting up to 1hour delays."

She should have just rolled over and went back to sleep, but instead she got up and joined the mindless masses moving along the freeways. She got into the office over an hour late, only to find that she was the sole person willing or foolish enough to make it in today. Some days it just doesn’t pay to be loyal. 

"10 long hours," she mumbled, "just to make the boss look good, and feed the tax man." 

The apartment was strangely quiet as she pushed the door open, a small sliver of light coming from the small den down the hall. He must have gotten home before me, she thought as she walked down the hall.

"Hello?" she asked, but there was no reply. She slowly walked into the den and noticed a small overnight bag on the desk with a note attached.




Trust and Obey



Louise sat by the window and stared at her own reflection in the rain. It was the kind of rain you only got in Seattle, not so much a shower as a constant gray downpour that made outdoor activities about as appealing as a root canal. It was the kind of rain that seemed like it conspired with Sunday afternoons to make lethargy seem like the only available option-she had books, she had Netflix, she had video games and a car that could take her anywhere she wanted to go, but whenever she looked out the window at her own winter-pale face and long, messy brown hair reflected in the half-light created by miles of cloud cover and endless damp, all she wanted to do was sit. Even dozing off sounded too much like work.

Louise tried to remind herself of the pile of dirty clothes in the hamper. She tried to tell herself that she'd gotten a whole stack of books for Christmas and she hadn't even started one. She gently suggested to herself that there was leftover pizza in the fridge that needed to be eaten up, or at the very least a pint of Ben and Jerry's that could stand to be a spoonful or two lighter. It was no good. Nothing held up in the face of the rain. It was the kind of stolid, determined rain that made boredom feel like the only reasonable emotion. No poet had ever been inspired by a rainfall like this, unless it was to go lie down in bed and pull the covers over their head.

So Louise sat by the window and stared at the rain. Until she heard the door open.

She could have sworn she'd locked it and pulled the chain. Then again, she could have sworn that nobody would go anywhere in weather like this. Apparently she was wrong on both counts. She jumped out of her chair and ran to the foyer to see who had barged in.

When she rounded the corner, she was greeted by the most extraordinary sight. There was a woman standing in the doorway, a redheaded Caucasian woman dressed in a pink-and-white gown that looked like the love child of a mad, tempestuous fling between a wedding cake and a lace doily. It was spotless, despite the rain, some of which might be explained by her massive umbrella...except for the bit about the massive umbrella being far, far too wide to fit through Louise's door.

She looked at Louise with the brightest, most vivid green eyes Louise had ever seen, and folded her umbrella with a snap. Then the next impossible thing happened-the umbrella folded in further on itself, retracting down into its own handle again and again and again until it was no more than the size of a toothpick. The woman dropped it into her handbag and smiled brightly at Louise.

"Why, hello there, Louise!" she said, taking out a mirror and briefly examining her elaborate ringlets of coppery hair to make sure not a one was out of place. "Yes, hello, I do say! It's so nice to be here on this gray, gray, gray day! You can call me Georgette Belladonna Lefoux...or you can say Gigi, because most people do!"

Louise stared at the woman for a long moment. She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again. "Is this a dream?" she asked at last. She knew it lacked originality, but she already felt like there was far too much originality in the room at the moment and she didn't feel like adding more to it.

"It's as real as you feel!" Gigi said, stepping out of a pair of boots and into a pair of dainty pink heels that Louise sure as hell knew she hadn't left there. "Or much realer than that-I'm a very real girl, here on your welcome mat! I came here to visit with some great things to say, things to brighten you up on this gray, gray, gray day!"

Louise just kept staring. She didn't know how to respond to any of it-the ludicrous outfit, the absurd name, the constant rhyming couplets, or the sprinkling of exclamation points at the end of every sentence like an overenthusiastic baker putting powdered sugar on everything. She finally settled for saying, "Are you sure you have the right house?"

Gigi laughed a twinkly giggle and said, "The right house? Yes it is, 'cause your name is Louise, friend of Juliette Lord (who's my friend, if you please). I was talking to her, she was talking to me, and she whispered sad things in the ear of Gigi."

Louise sighed. Juliette hadn't ever mentioned Gigi to her, but then again if Louise had a friend like that she'd probably want to keep it a secret, too. "Sure, come in," she said, with ill-concealed bad grace. "I mean, further in than you already have." She walked off in the direction of the living room, expecting that Gigi wouldn't wait for an invitation to follow.

Sure enough, Gigi came along moments after Louise. She sprinted through the room in a whirlwind of activity that was almost startlingly fast, drawing every shade in turn and then switching on the lights. "Such an old grumpy-guts!" Gigi exclaimed, as she reached into her handbag and pulled out a small can of what looked like spray paint. "But perhaps that's the rain! On a gray day like this, you can go quite insane! Color's just what you need to smart up this gray day, color cheerful and bright and quite happy and gay!"

With that, she pulled the lid off the can and began painting the light bulbs. "Hey, what are you-" Louise began, but it wasn't even worth finishing her sentence-within seconds, Gigi had crossed the room in another tornado of boundless energy and sprayed every single bulb with a garish bubblegum pink. The whole room was flooded with warm, pink light that Louise would die before admitting she liked much better than the gloomy strained sunlight coming in from outside.

"So much better indeed!" Gigi squealed brightly, flopping down onto the couch opposite Louise. "And now, speaking of gay, there's a thing you should know on this bright pink gay day! Your friend Juliette's queer-she's both your friend and mine, and there's things she told me when she had too much wine. She would never admit to her straight friend Louise that her straight friend's hot bod was a hot, sexy tease."

Louise felt herself blushing sharply, the heat of it staining her cheeks a brilliant crimson with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, what?" She wasn't sure which part of Gigi's tactless confession to be upset at first-the fact that she clearly broke Juliette's confidence by coming here to play at being some sort of deranged matchmaker, the fact that Juliette didn't trust Louise enough to confide in her about Juliette's sexual orientation, or the fact that apparently Juliette had been fantasizing about Louise behind her back. Not just the occasional thought, but actual fantasies that she drunkenly confessed to her friends.

And this Gigi woman had just dropped the whole tangled mess right in front of her like a cat presenting its owners with a dead mouse, and expected her to be...happy? Interested? Not freaked out? Louise was suddenly too angry for words.

But Gigi apparently had them in plenty. "Juliette likes you, girl!" she said with a lascivious wink. "Oh, she's hot for your bod. But she wouldn't tell you-she thinks you might feel odd. So the secret she kept, she could never quite say that she loved a straight girl even though she was gay."

"Stop doing that!" Lousie shouted, her anger irrationally fixating on the other woman's stupid and annoying habit of speaking in rhyme. "God, you sound like a fucking Doctor Seuss character."

"Doing what, dare I ask?" Gigi said, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I don't know what you mean. I speak like a Lefoux-"

"STOP!" Louise screamed. "Stop right there, don't finish, don't say 'queen' or 'machine' or 'latrine' or, or anything! Just let. It. Die." She panted in frustration as she trailed off. "Okay?"

Gigi shook her head slowly. "Dear," she said, "you're making a scene."

Louise pointed to the door. "Out!" she yelled. "Get out of my apartment! I've had it up to here with you and your rhymes and your dresses and your, your...oh, just tell Juliette if she has something to say to me, she can say it to my face. Sober."

Gigi didn't move, but her twinkly smile faded a little. "But my dear," she said, "I can't leave. I have so much to do! I have so much to say, and to do unto you!"

Louise's blood ran suddenly cold as Gigi reached into her handbag and pulled out some sort of enormous contraption that looked like a harpoon gun. "How...how did that fit...?" she gasped out, her mind coping with the sudden and apparently lethal threat the way that humans did best-by ignoring it to focus on the details.

"You mean this?" Gigi said, aiming the device at her. "This new thing? This new thing that I hold? This grand gimmick I pulled from my bag's quantum fold? Please don't worry-don't fear, there's no harm it can do. It's my Grand Grabbing Grasp Gun that's pointed at you!"

Gigi pulled the trigger, and Louise suddenly felt herself blown backwards as though by the breath of an enormous giant. She went flying across the room to land heavily into the easy chair she'd been sitting in before all this insanity started, but with a heavy mass of thick, damp paper streamers weighing down her ankles and wrists. She pulled at them, but they dried almost instantly into a sort of papier-mâché that bonded irrevocably with the chair. A part of Louise wailed at the expense of re-upolstering, but she had bigger things on her mind.

Because Gigi had just pulled out a large pair of scissors, and was looking at her with a contemplative expression. "I know you're quite worried, but please let me explain so those worries won't sit quite so hard on your brain. I'm such a nice person, as you surely can see, and Miss Juliette's plight weighed most weighty on me. I think lovers should love-love should be requited! And gay love for straight girls-who'd want that plight plighted?"

She set down the grasp gun and walked across the room to where Louise struggled against the stiff, unyielding streamers. "So I said to myself, 'How to fix this big mess? How to make Juliette's wooing perfect success?' Then it hit me, my dear, like a bolt from the blue-I could just make you gay! And that's what I will do."

"Are you nuts?" Louise hissed at Gigi, unsure whether to scream or laugh. "I mean, that's obviously a big yes, but...seriously, are you nuts? You can't just make someone gay!"

Surprisingly, Gigi nodded. "I agree!" she said, snipping the air with her scissors in excitement. "I just can't! I just can't make you gay." Louise relaxed just a tiny bit in her bonds, until Gigi's next words made her struggle all the harder. "Not without my two friends-they're called 'Trust' and 'Obey'!"

She gestured, and two Caucasian women wearing full-length gowns similar to Gigi's stepped into the living room just as Louise realized she'd never actually closed the outer door. They were both tiny, perhaps the smallest full-grown women Louise had ever seen-each of them was roughly three feet tall. But they each had an extraordinary beehive hairdo, a bouffant that more made up the extra height. One of them had cotton candy pink hair, the other cotton candy blue. It looked surprisingly natural on them.

The first one came over to join them as Gigi introduced her. "Meet my good friend 'Obey'!" she said, gesturing up and down both body and bright pink hair. "She will help you see sense, when it comes to a world of fem-female romance!" Louise cringed, although she wasn't sure whether it was the concept or the terrible rhyme she was trying to get away from. "She's got bottomless eyes, dark and sweet and blue-gray, and her stare will assist me in making you gay!"

Obey looked up at Louise, and she couldn't help it-she flinched. She looked up, down, anywhere but at the strange small woman's gaze. She had a sudden, irrational conviction that what Gigi said was absolutely true. As crazy as it all sounded, it wasn't really any crazier than pulling an impossible gun out of an impossible handbag, or opening a locked door, or any of the other weird things Gigi had done since she'd walked into Louise's apartment. Gigi might be crazy, but that didn't mean she was delusional.

Gigi reached down and stuffed a rag into Louise's mouth. It wasn't until the sound cut out that Louise realized she'd been screaming.

"And now you're done shouting," Gigi said in tones of calm practicality, "let me introduce 'Trust'." The blue-haired woman stepped forward, her smile radiating warmth. "And in 'Trust' you will trust-yes, you certainly must! Her fingers are pleasure, and her touch purest bliss. You'll give in to her hands and submit to her kiss!"

Louise tried to tell them to keep away, but the gag turned it into a series of muffled grunts and incoherent snarls of fury. "Now it's time to begin," Gigi said, ignoring Louise's garbled protests, "but there's one thing to do before Trust and Obey get their hooks into you. Submission is sexy, so as we turn you gay, you've got to be naked for both Trust and Obey!" Gigi opened the scissors wide to reveal another, smaller pair of blades inside them. That pair opened as well, to reveal a smaller pair yet, which opened to reveal another, and another, and on down to a tiny set of delicate shears no larger than a sunflower seed.

Gigi aimed them at Louise and closed them, causing them to leap out as if spring-loaded. With a thousand simultaneous, impossibly precise cuts, Louise's outfit simply disintegrated to leave her naked in the chair. "There we go!" she cheered, clapping her hands together carefully around the scissors. "There we are! Now the fun can begin! It's the Lesbian Game and we know you can't win! But it's so fun to lose that you'll happily play, with your new friend Lefoux and with Trust and Obey!"

Louise put her whole body into struggling against the streamers, rocking back and forth in the chair as she made one last desperate attempt to escape. As soon as Obey came into her field of vision, she clenched her eyes tightly shut, terrified of what the other woman's stare might do. But she could still hear...and she could still feel. Trust's warm, soft hand caressed her thigh with a lover's intimacy, whispering up and down her skin and causing Louise to wriggle her body for entirely different reasons.

"Is that bad?" whispered Gigi in her ear as Trust's fingers brushed up one leg and down the other. "No, it's not! It's decidedly good! It's a soft gentle touch touching just as it should! You can't resist pleasure, so please-don't even try. Just give in to her touch with a soft, helpless sigh."

Louise couldn't help it-she did let out a tiny sigh as Trust skated those amazing hands up over her hips and along her belly before tracing lines back down her thighs. She felt Gigi pull the gag out, and she tried to remind herself that she should be screaming now, shouting 'Police!' or 'Fire' or something to attract help, but then those delicate fingers slid along the inside of her leg once again, teasing just above her mound as they looped back to the other leg, and she lost track of the thought once more.

"That's the touch of a girl that's caressing you now," Gigi said, tracing her own fingers along Louise's jawline. It didn't feel as magical as Trust's searching, probing touch that seemed to know just how to drive Louise wild with pleasure, but it had its own charms. "And does it feel awful? No! No way and no how! It's the kind of a touch that a girl can't resist! Soon she'll kiss you the way that you want to be kissed..."

Louise felt it then, soft lips pressing everywhere that fingers had been just moments ago. Louise's legs fell open all on their own as Trust kissed her way up Louise's thighs, even as Trust's busy fingers found entirely new places to touch. Louise whimpered softly as she felt Trust brushing up and down along her labia, tiny butterfly caresses that found slick, slippery flesh everywhere they touched. Louise had never felt so wet. She'd never imagined being so wet.

"And you can't help but think, 'Is this what sex is like? When it's lesbian sex with a hot, sexy dyke?'" Gigi continued, stroking Louise's face and hair as she talked. "You're thinking of pussies, and soft pillowy tits, of soft rounded buttocks and of slick, throbbing clits. It all seems so normal, you can't help but be gay when you listen to me and to Trust and Obey."

Louise wanted to deny it, but she had to admit that she'd never been touched like this before. Trust's lips felt like they were everywhere, nuzzling her inner thighs with kitten licks that made her pussy drip with arousal, and her fingers teased the entrance to her cunt with relentless pleasure. She felt like she was losing track of the world around her, like everything had been reduced to pure sensation and all she could do was let it wash over her. Was this what Juliette fantasized about at night? Did she imagine herself where Trust was, pleasuring Louise with this same devotion? The idea didn't seem to bother Louise anymore.

"And now that you trust us," Gigi cooed seductively, "you can open your eyes, and see who's licking licks in between your slick thighs." Louise's eyelids slowly fluttered open, glassy with pleasure. She expected to look down and see Trust's head between her legs, but the view was blocked. By Obey.

She was standing on the arms of the chair, entirely naked, her legs lewdly spread to reveal a pussy with its own tuft of cotton-candy pink pubic hair. Louise barely had time to notice before her eyes locked onto the glittering, blue-gray stare that was mere inches away from her face, and she felt her thoughts simply fall away.

She could still feel the pleasure of Trust's touch as her tongue circled Louise's clit with maddening precision, and she could still hear Gigi saying, "Oh, silly old duffer! Forgetful old Gigi! Obey's in the way of your view of Between-Knee! Her eyes hold you helpless, her stare locks your brain down-you hear only my words, your mind is my playground." She just couldn't really think about them anymore. She couldn't think about anything anymore.

Gigi continued remorselessly, "And you know it is true when you hear what I say, you're a lesbian slut who is helplessly gay. You can't help but agree, and you cannot gainsay, for you know you trust Trust and you obey Obey."

Louise heard her own voice repeating tonelessly, "I know I trust Trust and I obey Obey." She felt Obey reaching down to fondle her breasts, tugging at her nipples and intensifying the pleasant ache that Trust's kisses and caresses created. Her mind felt like an endless, echoing void of pure ecstasy now, without a single thought except for the ones that Gigi was putting inside it. She'd never imagined how erotic that would feel.

"And soon you'll be cumming, your quim will be gushing with pleasure, arousal and pussy-juice rushing," Gigi said, her words sinking deep into Louise's blank mind as she shook with desire. "This orgasm locks in your new slut dyke feeling, and Juliette's face sends your slut dyke heart reeling. You cannot resist her, her touch echoes freely Trust's magical touches of pleasure ideally. Now give in to pleasure and scream like a banshee, as you cum by my will and you submit to me."

As Gigi spoke the last words, Trust leaned in and flicked her tongue right across Louise's clit. Obey strummed her thumbs up and down Louise's nipples. And Louise lost it. All of it. Her resistance, her will, her inhibitions, her sexual orientation, and a torrent of sticky fluid that gushed out of her hot, wet pussy as she came hard all over Trust's face. She practically vibrated in the chair, her every muscle quivering with pleasure as the endless wave of ecstasy lashed through her, locking in every last word of her programming and leaving her a spent, exhausted, utterly blissful lesbian mess in the chair.

She didn't know how long she spent lying there, in a fog of bliss. She was vaguely aware of Gigi using some sort of absurd giant feather duster to clean the chair, reassemble her clothes, and even restore her light bulbs to their original color, but since Trust and Obey didn't stop fucking her until it was all over, she couldn't really bring herself to care about any of it. The last thing she was aware of was Obey gently pressing her eyelids shut with two fingers, sending her sinking down into a spiral of drowsy oblivion.




Trust and Obey



When she woke, the room was back to normal. She had all her clothes on. She almost would have thought it was a dream, except for...well, except for the extraordinarily well-fucked feeling between her thighs and her sudden desire to call Juliette up and beg her for sex, but that wasn't necessarily conclusive. The note was.

Louise opened it to find one last set of instructions, inscribed in perfect handwriting: 

We had such fun, Louise,
So much fun this gray day!
And Juliette's happy,
Now that I made you gay.
It was all done from love,
There's no need to repay!
And if you need more help...
Call me, Trust, and Obey.

THE END



Trust and Respect



Once marriage vows are broken it's hard to regain trust and respect in a relationship again. Hopefully, this story describes what could happen when that trust is lost and describes a means of restoring it with irreversible consequences if lost again.

A thanks to fdkman for his editing assistance. 

CHAPTER 1. The Discovery

The lake was calm without a breeze to disturb the glassy surface in the hour immediately after day break. The sun was just starting to come up over the hills to the east transfiguring the lake into a place of serenity and peace. Just what I needed to think about my problem. The quiet hum of the electric trolling motor pushed my fourteen foot boat along the shore line at a steady pace as I trolled in my quest for a bass or walleye. I was really hoping I wouldn't catch either as I needed time to think without interruption.

My name is Mark. I'm 45 years old and I'm married to Lois, my 42 year old wife. My problem revolves around my wife. I caught her cheating with my best friend, Phil last night. I hadn't confronted her or him yet and had only just found out about the affair by accident. So now I had to figure out the best way to handle the situation.

We will have been married 25 years next month and our two kids; a son Jeff, 23 and a daughter Jill, 21 are out on their own so they will only figure slightly in whatever I decide to do. Jeff is newly married and Jill is engaged. I knew I could not continue to be cuckolded, especially by my best friend, without doing something. 

First, let me describe my wife. She's very pretty and at 5' 7" and 140 lbs has a mature but shapely figure. Her measurements I estimate at around 36", 28", 40" with no sign that she's starting to lose her figure too badly as many of her girl friends have. This is especially noticeable with Phil's wife, Penny. Phil has always had a roving eye but in recent years, as Penny has started putting on weight, I noticed that he has becoming more prone to wander. However, I never suspected he would go after Lois although I should have known that her looks would have attracted him. I wondered why she would have responded to him. Like most women, who start getting hit on when they first gain breasts and other female characteristics, she had endured her share of groping, inappropriate comments and suggestions for a date during our marriage. However, she'd endured them without being unfaithful as far as I know. So what had happened to make her break our wedding vows? Didn't she respect me anymore? Was she in love with Phil? Did she want a divorce? Did Phil want to divorce Penny? How long had it been going on? Only she could answer those questions.

Those were questions for them. What about me? What questions did I have to get answers to? Did I love Lois? I thought I did. How would I feel if she left me? Would I be devastated or did I even care? If we stayed together could I trust her again? But the most obvious question of all; how did I feel? Was I angry or just disappointed at her betrayal? It was all so confusing.

Most cheating wives stories I'd read indicated that the husband was always devastated and drank a bottle of bourbon to forget. I didn't think that appealed to me. Twenty five years is about a third of a lifetime and that's a pretty heavy investment of ones life to give up without some concern. I guess I would have to confront her and get some of those questions answered that only she could provide. Then I would go from there to determine the best course of action but I thought that I would like to salvage my marriage if at all possible.

As I continued to glide across the lake surface I heard the sound of high powered outboard coming down the lake and in a few moments a bass boat skimmed by across the surface of the lake kicking up a rooster tail of water behind it. A quick wave to the driver and his passenger and they were gone. I noticed too that riffles were beginning to break up the glassy surface as a breeze started and the sun rose higher in the sky. I would have to be heading home soon as it would shortly be getting too hot to continue so I turned back toward the launch ramp. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I had been on a four day business trip and had finished up a day early and headed home, catching an evening flight that would get me in to home late. Lois didn't like me to travel. With the kids gone she was alone in the house and I thought she would appreciate my early return. I decided to surprise her and not notify her in advance. Maybe I should have.

Arriving home at ten in my truck, that I'd left at the airport, I didn't open the garage door, deciding instead that it would scare her as she was probably in bed sleeping or reading. I could see that there was a light on in the living room and our bedroom as I drove up. I slipped in the front door with my luggage and dropped it in the front entryway thinking I'd take care of it in the morning. Looking in the living room I saw two empty wine glasses on the coffee table. I stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water then went upstairs to our bedroom. I saw a light coming from the partly open door to our bedroom and heard the sound of voices.

"Oh Phil. Fuck me! Fuck me!"

What the hell I thought. Is she watching a porn movie? But that sounds like her voice. I looked around the corner into the room and saw my best friend Phil's hairy ass between my wife's legs thrusting his cock into her as she thrust back at him. I stood there quietly, mesmerized by what I was looking at. They were so involved in their fucking that they didn't notice me watching from the door way.

"Oh god, Phil! That feels so good. I'm going to come soon. Don't stop."

Wakening from my stupor I thought about rushing in and confronting them in anger but reason returned and I turned instead and went downstairs and returned with my new digital video camera. Setting it on low light I stood back in the dark hallway and began videoing their activities in the dimly lit bedroom for about fifteen minutes. During that time they both orgasmed and afterward she started sucking his cock to get him hard and then they went at it again. When I was satisfied that I had enough I took the camera down to the computer room and downloaded it into a secure file. Then I burned two discs and hid them in separate places.

Going back upstairs I heard him ask, "Can we do this again? I've wanted to make love to you for a long time and I don't think I can stop now."

"I don't think so. He'll be home tomorrow. I want you to understand that as far as I'm concerned, we weren't making love. We were just fucking. I only make love with Mark."

"He and I are scheduled to play golf on Saturday morning. If I played sick and got a sub would you do it then?"

"What about Penny?"

"She'll be still at her mother's."

"Maybe. I'll let you know."

"My cock is still hard."

"Don't let it go to waste. Fuck me one more time."

I went and took my luggage from the entryway and moved it out to the garage hiding it behind some cabinets. Then I changed into the old fishing clothes I kept there and slipped out the side door of the garage to my truck. Starting it I turned it around and backed up to my fishing boat next to the garage and moved off toward the lake three miles distant. I slept in the truck that night at the launch ramp. Waking at first light I launched and went fishing. I was still numb from what I'd seen but and hadn't sorted out my feelings yet.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the sun gained precedence in the sky I pulled the boat up on its trailer and departed the lake for home. After parking the boat and trailer by the garage again I went into the garage through the side door again and was surprised to see Lois' car still sitting there. She was usually at work by this time. I changed clothes again taking slacks and a shirt from my luggage and then went into the kitchen.

She was sitting at the kitchen table looking at me without expression. It looked like she's been crying. I went in and sat down opposite her.

"I thought something was funny when I saw the empty glass on the counter top in the kitchen. When I saw your boat gone, I knew."

"Why?" I asked without other preliminaries.

She suddenly began to sob.

"I don't know."

"Do you love him? I love you and want you to be happy so if you love him I'll give you a divorce and let you go. However, I will not be a cuckold while you have an affair with him

"No no no. I don't love him. It was just sex. I love you."

"Do you want a divorce?"

"Oh god, no, no, no!"

"Again, why then?"

I was getting mad. A rage was building up in me. For the first time I was beginning to feel some emotion about her infidelity and it scared me.

"I don't know. I wanted something but I don't know what. It might be that I'm getting older and I don't feel that I'm attractive anymore."

"You're very attractive to me. Doesn't that count. Don't our wedding vows count?"

"Oh god! Please. I'm feeling so bad about it. I don't want to lose you."

"How long has it been going on?"

"That was the first time." she sobbed out.

"How do I know that? How can I trust you again?"

"I'll never, never, never do that again."

"Was that only because I caught you?"

"No, I'd already decided it was a one time thing."

"Weren't you thinking about doing it again with him Saturday morning?"

"Oh god, you heard that?"

"Yes, and I heard you begging him to fuck you. So, again, how do I trust you if we stay together? I'm not going to spend the rest of my life being your jailor. By having sex outside our marriage you broke our wedding vows 'to forsake all others' and you showed a total lack of respect for me. Now, I have lost my respect for you and my trust in you. How do we overcome that if we stay together?" 

"I don't know what to say. Can I say that you have to trust me that you can trust me? That really sounds crazy. You're right, I did show a disrespect for you by doing it with him and please don't talk about not being together."

"Let's try it this way. What would you do if I had cheated on you? Think about it before replying."

After a few minutes she exclaimed., "Oh god! I would have asked you to leave our home and would have gotten a lawyer. But, I don't want you to do that with me. I'm so confused." 

She went back to sobbing and I constrained myself from going over to comfort her. My rage began to abate. I decided then that I sincerely cared for her and hoped we could work through this and get back together The question was, did I love her enough to forgive her? She was the mother of our children and we had lived together for a long time and knew one another intimately. Could I get past this and resume our relationship no matter how flawed? She was a good looking woman and had always turned me on. I would miss her if I left and I knew she would find someone else soon. However, I felt we needed some breathing room.

"Lois, I think we should separate for awhile until you can figure out what you want and you're no longer confused. I'm going to pack a few things and go live in a motel until you make up you're mind what you want to do. Also, I think you should know that if we do get back together I will never again sleep in the bed you cuckolded me in."

"Oh no, Mark, don't leave. I'll get rid of the bed immediately and have a new one delivered this afternoon."

"I'm sorry but I see this as a period of adjustment in our marriage. Please give it a lot of thought and call me on my cell phone when you're ready to discuss what we're going to do. You should be aware that as soon as Penny gets home I'll be informing her about what you and Phil have done. I don't think she should be kept in the dark on this and I don't think Phil should get away with it. He's no longer my friend. As long as we're married he'll never set foot in this house again."

I got up and went out to the garage and got my luggage and took it upstairs to repack. Within a few minutes I came back downstairs and headed for the door.

"Please, Mark. What will I tell the kids?"

"That's up to you but don't place the blame for this on me. I don't think we should let this go too long. I think you should call within a week."

She was still sobbing as I closed the door and headed to my truck. In about twenty minutes I had a room at the Holiday Inn near the interstate. It was only noon so I went into the restaurant and had lunch then headed to my office. They were surprised to see me back early but I buried myself in work to help forget my personal problems.

I called my golf partners, except Phil, and canceled out my Saturday morning date with them. Also, I told them that I probably would not be playing with them for the foreseeable future. They wanted to know why and I just told them there were some personal problems that had to be worked out. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Two days after I moved into the motel I received a call on my cell phone at work from my son, Jeff.

"Dad, what's going on? Mom says you've moved out of the house and she's almost a basket case. She hasn't been to work in the last two days."

"Did she tell you why?"

"She says she did something stupid. Can you tell me what she did?"

"You'll have to get that from her Jeff. But, I can tell you if it doesn't get resolved in the next few days your mother and I might be heading for a divorce."

"Oh, dad, I hope it doesn't come to that. I'll talk to Jill and see if we can't work with you both on this."

"OK son. Bye."

"Bye dad."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Saturday morning while I was having breakfast at Denny's I received a call from my daughter Jill on my cell phone.

"Dad, can you meet with mom this afternoon? She told us what she did and we're really mad at her but I don't think what she did is bad enough for a divorce."

"Jill, I agree with you and Jeff that a one time slip is not enough for a divorce but I want assurances that it will never happen again. I want her to tell me how she can restore my trust and respect for her. My guts are in a turmoil over this. I feel betrayed and disrespected. I've also lost my respect for her. "

"I hear you dad. We'll pass on your words to her. Do you think you could talk with her today?"

"This afternoon at 2 o'clock would be fine."

"Good. We won't be there. It'll just be the two of you. By the way, I think you should know she's had your whole bed room suite replaced, the walls repainted and new carpet installed. She's really sorry and I don't think what she did ever will happen again."

"OK honey. Thanks for your and Jeff's help in this."

"We're family dad and we want to stay a family."

I was so proud of our kids.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Two o'clock and I was ringing the front doorbell.

"You didn't have to ring, Mark. This is your home too." she told me as I entered.

"Lois, until this is resolved I'm not living here."

"Alright, I understand. Where do you want to talk?"

"The living room will be fine.," I responded. I wanted to keep this as formal as possible so it wouldn't degenerate into a crying jag for her and myself giving in to compassion for her. I sat down in a chair and she sat on the sofa facing me. She looked drawn and lifeless and I was secretly glad that she was suffering about this.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"I guess you can start by telling me how you and Phil got together."

"Well, you were gone and Penny was gone to visit her mother. I'd met Phil at the grocery store and and he was bemoaning the fact that he was having to cook for himself or go out to restaurants and he would love a home cooked meal. I think back now that he was just fishing for an invitation. Anyway, I bit on his hook and invited him over for dinner. I don't like to just cook for myself and I don't like to eat alone. It just made sense that we solve our problems together. I didn't even think about the impropriety of it at all. He and Penny are such good friends I just thought about him as I do about my brother, Dan."

"Before dinner we had cocktails and during dinner we had wine. We were having such a good time talking that I didn't notice that we'd almost consumed the whole bottle of wine. I think he was keeping my glass full the whole time we sat there. After dinner he helped clean up the kitchen and the dirty dishes and then we went into the family room. He sat next to me on the couch and we had some more wine. I was really out of it from the alcohol. I remember he put his arm around me and when I turned to him to tell him no he kissed me. It was like some dam was released and I found myself responding. That eventually led to the bedroom and I guess that's where you found us I just never thought about you or the our family."

"I am so sorry it happened but I can't turn back the clock. I don't want to lose you. I love you and I need you with me. I have tried to analyze why I succumbed so easily to him and maybe it was the alcohol, my concerns about growing older and combined with the fact I was horny without you. I don't know, but I'm willing to see a psychologist or marriage counselor about it if it will get you back home. I don't know whether I could handle you having revenge sex with some other woman, but if you insisted I'd go along with it if it would help you trust me again."

I was so glad she was looking at what she'd done more analytically than emotionally. It was a good sign. 

"OK, based on what you've told me, this episode with Phil was just a one time thing. There have been no other men in your life since we married. Is that right?

"Yes, yes. No one but you. Please believe me.,"she sobbed.

"All right, but I hope I never discover otherwise. I will move back home this evening and we can try to re-establish our marriage. You realize that it will not be easy. I have the memory of seeing you fucking another man in our bed and your words burned into my brain and its going to take time to erase that memory. I will be staying in the spare room until I feel comfortable with you again."

She looked visibly relieved as she responded, "All right, I understand. I just want you back home and we'll work this out."

I moved back in that evening and the weekend was spent in cautious attempts of reconciliation. I was pleased that she acted contrite and remorseful. . +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

CHAPTER 2. A Revelation 

Monday morning at work I called Phil and Penny's house to see if she was back from the visit to her mother's. As I'd hoped she was home and Phil was at work. I wanted to meet in a public place.

"Penny, are you available for lunch today? I'd like to talk with you privately without our spouses around."

"Sure Mark. We can meet at TGIF at noon. Is this about a surprise for them?"

"You could say that. I'll see you at lunch."

At noon I was seated in a booth in the back when Penny arrived and sat across from me.

"Now, what's this all about, Mark?" she began after we had our drinks.

I couldn't see anyway of sugarcoating the situation so I started right in.

"While you were gone, I came home early from a business trip and found Phil and Lois in bed together. Lois and I have had a brief breakup but now we're back together and we'll be seeing a marriage counselor."

She just stared at me emotionlessly. I was surprised as I'd been prepared for some sort of outburst. Finally, she spoke. It sounded that she was forcing the words from her mouth and I was devastated.

"So, Lois is the one."

"What do you mean, Lois is the one?"

I knew Phil has been cheating on me for some time but I never knew who it was With your help I'd like to start divorce proceedings against him."

I was stunned. Lois had lied to me. They had been doing it more than once and it sounded as though, many times. It was as though I was kicked in the gut. I was in a white hot fury when I thought about it. Jumping up I threw money on the table for the drinks and told her, "I'm sorry Penny, I've got to get back to the office and think. She told me they only did it the one time, but I'll be glad to help you with your divorce if I can. I need revenge and I have video confirmation."




Trust and Respect



"Can I have a copy of that?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll get a copy to you."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When I got to my office I sat there and thought about what I was going to do for about an hour then I made a decision. I needed to get away from Lois and the whole sordid situation. I couldn't look at her lying face again.

I hand wrote a letter of resignation effective immediately and left it on my bosses desk while he was in a meeting. Then, I called and made an appointment with my lawyer for later that afternoon. Heading for the bank I withdrew ten thousand dollars in cash from half our savings and put the rest of my half into five year CDs in my name. I took half our checking account and then headed to our investment representative and split half our investments into my name only. I cancelled all joint credit cards and and took out one in my name only.

My lawyer, Bill Jackson, was surprised when I asked to have divorce proceedings initiated against Lois immediately based on irreconcilable differences and signed a power of attorney for Bill to handle the divorce and changed my will to leave my estate to our kids if I should die. I told Bill that if she balked at a divorce to let her know I had video evidence of her adultery that I could make it public. Then I left his office telling him I would notify him where I could be contacted when I got settled somewhere else.

Back home I packed only jeans and casual shirts, shoes, etc.; gathered up my computer, the two DVDs showing Lois and Phil and loaded them in my car. Then I headed west after leaving a note and my wedding ring for the her.

Dear lying slut/bitch,

This is the last you will hear from me. You can continue your affair with Phil now as I'm leaving you and this town for good. You'll be hearing from Bill Jackson shortly. All contacts between us will be through him in the future. Penny told me about your 'long term affair' with Phil.

Mark

I dropped a copy of the video at Penny's place and then headed west. Lois would be home soon and find my note.

I drove until 9 PM and then stopped for the night at a small motel in the next state. I was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning I got up, had breakfast and continued driving west. When I reached Denver I sold my truck in a small private car lot and picked up another used pickup then headed south toward Mexico. Two days later I crossed the border at Juarez and headed down to Chihuahua. Finding a small hotel there I checked in and then laid back to rest a few days. I took most of the cash I had with me and opened a checking account in a local bank. I knew a few words of Spanish, having done business through my old company with Mexican companies, so I was able to get by as I worked at getting more proficient in the language. After a week at the motel I located an small furnished apartment and moved in.

Checking around in a few cantinas I found an individual who could fix me up with a fake Mexican drivers license with a fake name, Carlos Martin, and I went job hunting. A small local trucking company was looking for someone who was proficient in English to work part time and I thought it would be a good foot in the door until something better came along.. A month after leaving home I was settled anonymously in Mexico as a resident.

One day I bought a prepaid cell phone and called Bill Jackson to give him the phone number to contact me.

"Mark, where the hell are you. You've got to get in touch with Lois as soon as possible."

"Bill, I don't even want to talk about that bitch. If you say one more word about her I'll hang up. Now what about the divorce?"

"Mark, she refuses to agree to a divorce unless you talk to her. Unless you have proof of some other grounds besides irreconcilable differences she can drag this out forever and it could get very expensive."

"Did you tell her I had video proof of her adultery?"

"Yes, and I don't think she believes you."

"I'll send you a copy of my proof on a DVD and you can judge for yourself. I'll call back in a couple of weeks to see where we stand."

"OK, Mark."

I packaged up a copy of the DVD and gave it to one of the company drivers making a run to Denver with $50 and asked him to mail it from there. In two weeks I called back to Bill.

"Bill, it's Mark. Did you get the DVD?"

"Yes, and after looking at it myself I ran a copy and sent it over to Lois' lawyer. We're signing the divorce papers next week. Where do you want to send your copies?"

"Can you hang on to them and I'll let you know someday."

"OK, Mark but your kids really want to talk with you."

"Tell them I'll be in touch when I feel like talking with them again."

Twenty five years of my life were over.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

CHAPTER 3. A New Life

So life went on. A year after I'd started working at the small trucking company it has doubled in size thanks to my contacts back in the states and my business expertise and I was working full time. The owner of the trucking company and his wife were good friends and I was invited over to their home for dinners and fetes quite often. I met a few single women at those affairs and had sexual liaisons with a couple of them. One, Dolores in particular, was almost wanton in our couplings. She reminded me so much of Lois that I almost cried when we were together. I would have married her but I couldn't chance putting my fake name on legal documents like a marriage license. Also, I couldn't get Lois out of my mind as the person I'd really like to be with if she weren't such a slut/bitch. I think Dolores knew that I had someone else in mind while we were fucking because one day she commented about it.

"Carlos, you have a someone looking over your shoulder."

"What do you mean?"

"You have someone you still love with us all the time. Whatever she did to you, I think you ought to go back to her and resolve it."

"You know me pretty well don't you?"

"Who is she?"

"My exwife."

"What did she do?"

"She had an affair with a good friend and tried to lie her way out of it. I can't forget her and I can't forgive her."

"You must still have some questions in your mind, otherwise you'd let go of her."

"Maybe your right. I don't know."

"Please go back and confront her so you can let go. Would you do it for me?"

"I'll think about it Dolores."

After Dolores left I did think about it. It was close to two years since I'd left home and I thought the dust may have settled a bit and I could confront her without the rage I'd been in when I left. The next day I asked my boss if I could take a couple of weeks off to take care of some personal business. He readily agreed and I called Dolores to let her know I was going.

"That's good Carlos. Let me tell you that if you don't come back I'll understand. If you do come back I'll ask you to marry me."

"That sounds like a deal Dolores" I laughed., "Either way, I'll let you know."

We parted as friends. The next day I was in my truck heading back north.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

CHAPTER 4 Going Home

Four days later I pulled back into my hometown and got a room in my old name at the Holiday Inn. I called my son Jeff as soon as I was settled.

"Dad, where are you? Where have you been? We've searched for you a long time."

"I'm at the Holiday Inn out by the interstate and I've been living out of the country."

"That's why we couldn't find you. Can you come for dinner? There's so much we have to talk about. I'll let Jill know and she and her husband will want to be here too."

"Husband?"

"She married to a great guy dad. She's pregnant and so is my wife. You're back in time to be a grandparent. Mom is excited too."

"I don't think I want to hear about your mother Jeff."

"You've got to see her dad. I think you may have made a terrible mistake leaving two years ago and not letting anyone get in touch with you."

"A terrible mistake? I don't think so. What you're mother did is unforgivable. I just came back for a final closure, then I'm leaving again, probably for good."

Dad, please go and see her. She's still in your old house. She's never seen anyone else that we know of while you were gone. We kept close tabs on her."

After we hung up I sat in the motel room and thought about what I should do and finally making up my mind I headed for our old house. She was standing in a front window waiting for me when I pulled into the drive. I guess Jeff or Jill must have alerted her I was back in town. When I entered the house we didn't speak as I followed her into the living room and sat down facing one another. She looked really good and I recalled why I was so attracted to her.

"You look well." I spoke for the first time.

"Thank you. You look good too. You have a nice tan."

"All right Lois. The pleasantries are over. I want to tell you that I've thought about you often over the last two years and wondered how you were doing. I'm glad you didn't fight the divorce."

"Divorce? Mark, we're not divorced."

I was stunned. "We're still married? The last time I'd talked with Bill you were on the verge of signing the papers. What happened?"

"I couldn't do it. You left me with the idea that I'd had a long term affair with Phil and that was totally false. So, I thought the only way I could get you back to tell you was by refusing to sign the divorce papers."

"Why didn't Bill tell me?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask him."

"Penny told me that you'd had a long term affair with him. Why would she lie?"

"I talked with Penny after you left and apologized for my indiscretion with Phil. At that time I asked her why she told you it had been a long term affair. She said that she knew Phil had been cheating on her for some time and when you told her you had discovered us together she assumed that he had been seeing me the whole time."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. In retrospect though, I needed the time away to think about what had gone wrong in our marriage. I guess we'll never know if we could make our marriage work again if I'd stayed. But, I'm back for awhile anyway to see if there's closure or a new beginning I guess in our situation. I hadn't considered we'd still be married in planning for this trip. It adds a new factor to consider in addition to the fact that you may not have had an affair."

"Do you want to get back with me?"

"I still have feelings for you, but the old issue of trust and respect is still with me. Do you want me back?"

"Oh Mark, I want you back more than anything in this world. I can never say I'm sorry enough times for what I did, but it doesn't change the fact that it happened because of a moment of weakness. I know it will never happen again but I don't know how to assure you of that."

"I've got to have time to think this out. Why don't we just go and have dinner with the kids tonight and enjoy our family. I don't want to give them any false hopes that we're getting back together again but I think I'd enjoy being there with you. I understand our family is growing and I'd like to see them again."

Lois looked at me teary eyed. "Yes, our children are both married now and both are looking forward to being parents soon."

"I'm really looking forward to meeting them. Are you ready to go now? We can go together if you like."

"I'd like that.," she smiled.

"Can we plan to get together here tomorrow evening about seven and discuss our future?"

"I'll be home."

That afternoon we went over to Jeff's and joined our family there. I realized that much had happened in the two years that I was gone, but I had a wonderful time meeting my children and my new son. We were a little uncomfortable at first with one another, because Lois had told them what she'd done, but as the afternoon progressed things became more comfortable again. Jeff and Jill were especially glad that we had arrived together. To them this meant that we may be getting back together. However, I explained to them in an aside that we had only reached a temporary compromise until we could reestablish our bonds of trust and respect for one another. I also told them that I hoped that they had taken our situation to heart as far as their own marriages were concerned. They both indicated they'd had long conversations with their spouses on the matter and had all agreed that they would never break their wedding vows after seeing our problems.

Later, after dinner I took Lois back to our old home and dropped her off. She wanted me to come in, but I begged off. I was tired from traveling and didn't want to reestablish a relationship until we could have our talk the next evening. She really looked good and I found it hard to not hold her and kiss but, but I forced myself to hold back. Before we had our talk I wanted to talk with Penny to confirm for myself what Lois had told me and I needed to do a lot of thinking about how we were going to assure mutual trust and respect in any future relationship.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a restless night thinking about the matter, I got up in the morning, showered and went to breakfast. Later in the morning I called Penny. Lois had told me that she'd divorced Phil and she was living alone in their old house so it wasn't hard to find her. She was surprised when she found out it was me on the phone.

"Mark, its good to hear your voice again. I wished many times that I could tell you what a mistake I'd made about Lois and Phil the last time we talked. Lois told me, and I later confirmed it with Phil, that they'd only had that one time together. Phil admitted who the other woman was that he'd been seeing when he was cheating on me. So I'm extremely sorry about any misinformation I gave you based on an erroneous assumption on my part."

"I don't regret going off and letting time heal some wounds, Penny. So maybe it was for the best. Hopefully, we can get back together again. I'm sorry to hear about you and Phil. For just a few minutes in a meaningless liaison so much damage has been done."

"Phil had done too much cheating that I couldn't forgive him anyway. I have a new love life now and we plan to get married next month. Phil moved to California after our divorce and I haven't heard anything from him since."

"Congratulations, on your upcoming marriage. Hope to see you around sometime."

I accepted Penny's confirmation of what Lois had told me as I didn't think she's have any reason to lie. So, I now knew what I needed to do when I talked with Lois that evening.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

CHAPTER 5 Resolution

At seven that evening I was ringing the door bell at my old home and Lois answered right away.

"Come in, Mark. I've been waiting for you. Do you want a drink or something?"

"Do you have any scotch?"

"I have your favorite, Cutty." She told me with a smile

"A little on the rocks, please."

"Coming right up. I'll have a glass of wine. Do you want to talk in the living room?"

"That would be fine." I said as I went into the living room and sat down.

Shortly, she came in with the drinks and sat in a chair opposite me. I took a sip of my drink and spoke:

"Lois, I want to be back with you more than anything in this world. I love you so much that I have a hard time sitting here and not take you into my arms. However, if we don't set some new ground rules I don't know how we can establish a relationship again based on trust and respect. I was so happy that I could confirm with Penny what you'd told me about it being a one time thing with Phil. But you told me you had done it in a moment of weakness and I've struggled to come up with a means of assuring you will never have a 'moment of weakness' again."

"I don't know how I can reassure you, Mark. I can only tell you again that it was just sex and I'll regret it to my dying day. When I think about breaking my wedding vows to the man I love, I get sick inside." 

"I've given this much thought since I came back and I've come up with a way to restore my trust in you again and bring mutual respect back into our marriage. Its based on a promise from me to you."

"A promise?"

"Yes, a promise. I'm going to make you a promise and then I'm asking you to think about it for 24 hours before giving me a response. Before I do that you will have to understand that I had a loving relationship with another woman while I was gone. However, in my defense I thought that I was divorced from you when I was with her. She knew that I still had feelings for you and she was the one that urged me to come back here for a final confrontation with you and to end any feelings I still had for you. She didn't want to marry me with you between us."

When I told Lois about Dolores she paled visibly and listened intently until I finished.

"She sounds like a fine woman. It hurts me to think about you with someone else, but I guess I deserve it."

"Now, I need to ask you, have you had any extramarital relationships while I've been gone knowing that you were still married to me? I know you are a warm, passionate woman and its hard to imagine you were faithful to me the whole time I was gone."

"Mark, I have been faithful to you. I knew you'd come back to me someday and I wanted to be able to tell you that I've never broken our wedding vows again."

"I'm glad to hear that, but it must have been very hard on you."

She blushed as she responded, "I'll show you sometime how I was able to cope."

"Then here's my promise to you that you must accept and give some thought to before we can get back together. If you ever have a sexual relationship with another person while we are still married, I will kill you. I will release the rage I felt after I caught you with Phil and when I thought you'd lied to me about it."

Her eyes widened but she didn't say anything as I continued.

"That is my promise to you as the consequence of any infidelity. I know I will be tried and convicted of that killing and in this state I may receive the death penalty. That will make no difference in my promise to you, I will kill you. You can imagine the impact this will have on Jeff and Jill and their families and the legacy we leave them. This promise also extends to the time I was away when you claim you wanted to remain married to me. It may sound an extreme and harsh punishment but I need you to understand the possible consequences if we get back together. I'm going to leave now and we'll get back together here tomorrow evening at seven and you can give me your answer. If you respect me at all, you know I will keep that promise."

She had sat there stunned as I finished my drink and stood. We didn't speak as I left.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next evening at seven o'clock I rang the doorbell again and she promptly answered it as before.

Her face was expressionless as she asked me in and I followed her into the living room. A new glass of scotch on the rocks sat on the table next to the chair I'd occupied the previous evening and I sat after she picked up her glass of wine and sat down facing me.

"Lois, I spoke last night and now its your turn." I told her.

"Mark, you really scared me last night. I have no doubt in my mind you would do as you said. I have given it some thought and I either believe everything I told you about my past and future faithfulness or its all a lie. I love you so very much and want you back even with the full understanding of what your promise means if I am unfaithful to you. I trust and respect you as my husband and will be faithful to you as long as we're together. I only ask that if you have any doubts about me that you talk with me before you do anything."

I breathed a big sigh of relief and went over and got on my knees in front of her.

"Thank you, my darling. I was so afraid you would not want me. I'll move back home tomorrow."




Trust and Respect



She bent down and we kissed. Initially, it was tender and loving but quickly turned more passionate and demanding. Our tongues dueled together in a dance of lust. Without breaking the kiss I put my arms under her and lifted her up. Carrying her to the bedroom I sat her on the edge of the bed and began to undress her. She reached for my belt and began to unbuckle it, unzipping and excitedly pulling down my pants. All this time we tried to maintain mouth to mouth contact. Within a few minutes we were naked and broke our kiss as she grabbed my rigid cock and moaned her need.

"Hurry, hurry!! Put it in me. Its been so long. Oh god, my darling, fuck me!!

I pushed her back on the bed and mounted her as she guided my cock between the lips of her vagina into her warm, wet cunt. She wrapped her legs around me and drew me deeply into her so that our pubic hairs mashed together. In a frenzy I began to fuck her; ramming my cock in and out of her as she thrust her hips rhythmically back at me. It was only a few moments and I achieved an enormous orgasm and pumped my seed into her. She tightened her legs around me a cried out in relief.

"Oh god!! That was so good."

I collapsed onto her and she continued to hold me tightly as our libidos ebbed and sanity returned.

"I missed you so much my dearest.," I whispered in her ear.

"I know. I know. Just hold me a little longer. I never want you to let me go. Its been so lonely without you."

Shortly, we disengaged and we lay side by side on the bed. She took my cock in her hand and began to slowly stroke using the juices of our coupling as a lubricant then she bent down and took it in her mouth. Within a few minutes my libido began to return and I was hard again. Then she mounted me with her knees straddling my body and lowered herself slowly onto my cock. I reached up and circled her breasts with my hands and began tweeking her hard nipples with my fingers as she threw her head back in the calm ecstacy of our loving copulation. This was no longer frenzied lust but a rebirth of our marriage. I looked up at her lovingly as she moved up and down on my cock and I could feel our juices running down between my thighs as I felt another orgasm building. She also began to pick up her thrusts and I remebered thinking how we used to have so many mutual orgasms together. Her hands we on my shoulders as she ground her cunt down on my crotch and achieved her release. My own release came seconds after and we collapsed together in a moist embrace.

As my cock softened she sat up and lifted herself off my cock. Moving her hips up over my chest she looked down at me with a smile on her face.

"Did you like that me darling."

"Oh yes!" I responded as I looked down and saw the swollen, red lips of her pussy peeking out from her pubic hairs. I drop of my semen was leaking down from between her lips and I was so overcome with love for this woman that I placed my hands on her buttocks and pulled her pussy toward to my mouth.

"Oh Mark. You don't have to do that."

"I want to do it for you my darling to show you how much I love you and am thankful for your love for me. Besides, you did it to me and I want to return the favor."

I clamped my mouth to her lips and began to use my tongue to scoop up my cum and her juices. They were intermixed into a liqueur of strong, pungent potion that made me rock hard again as I cleaned her out. When I couldn't get anymore I attacked her clitoris with my tongue and lips and quickly brought her to another orgasm. When she came down from her high she got off me and flopped down on the bed beside me.

"My god, "she exclaimed. "We've never it that many times except when we were first married. I'll be sore tomorrow."

"It serves you right for being so sexy." I responded laughingly.

"Oh Mark, I've dreamt about doing this so many times since you left. I don't know how I survived."

"You were going to tell me how you were able to abstain from sex while I was gone."

"It wasn't the best as with you, but I had a friend." she said as she reached into the drawer of the bedside table and withdrew a pink dildo about the size of my cock.

"I call him Marcus. Isn't he cute? I practiced sucking him too. Now I don't need him anymore."

"Why don't you hang on to him. We might find a use for him someday."

*

EPILOGUE

From that day on I never doubted her again. We renewed our wedding vows before God and our family and to this day I have never been happier. She wanted to do so many things for me as atonement, but I told her it wasn't necessary as I had as many things to atone for as she did. Our sex life improved immensely after the break through of our first getting back together. We learned how to please one another in many ways without embarrassment or revulsion.

The only part I hated was calling Dolores and telling her I wouldn't be coming back. I knew she was disappointed but she understood.



Trust and Submission



It was early morning on the last day of November and j was hurrying to finish packing. She was giggling at the amount of luggage she would be bringing-- other than what she had on, the rest of the clothes she would pack could fit in her purse but her Master had commanded her to bring all of the toys, and although not very bulky, they did take up space. She paused to check a mental list—had she remembered everything?? OH! She almost forgotten the Sybian! THAT oversight would have earned her more strokes of the cane than she cared to think about! j grabbed the bag of Sybian accessories and another duffle bag. On second thought, she put the duffle bag back and pulled down a small hardcase with wheels. The Sybian was heavy, not to mention bulky and awkward, with oddly-shaped corners. The machine, the padded bench, and the accessory bag could just fit into the rolling case. j stood back to observe the small pile of luggage with satisfaction.

She hurried downstairs to load everything into the car, barely watching where she was going as she practically floated to the driveway. Her head was filled with anticipatory images of herself, the Sybian, and her beloved Master's hands on the controls... she knew that her Master planned to have her ride it to exhaustion, controlling her pleasure and forcing her orgasms until she blacked out. j loved to perform for her Master, to be His toy and respond to His control, to please Him with her obedience and the demonstration of her complete submission to His total ownership of her but she much preferred for her Master to make her cum by using her Himself; her own satisfaction deep-seated in the knowledge that He was taking His pleasure from her, using her as an object for His own sexual release, controlling her directly and completely through His touch and physical possession of her body. Nevertheless she obeyed Him and packed the car as ordered. At last she was ready to leave. 

As directed, she was wearing a transparent black bra under a sheer white midi blouse that tied at her waist, a black mini skirt (the slits on both sides gave tantalizing glimpses of the slave marks on her left thigh) and black high-heeled pumps that her Master called "slut shoes" (j preferred to think of them as her CFM shoes, the chick term she and her subby friends used), and of course no panties. In fact, the bra was the only underwear she was allowed to bring with her. Very early in her submission Mr. B had ordered her never again to wear panties in His presence and she knew better than to disobey. Furthermore, He had informed her that she would need no other underclothes once she arrived. She shivered in anticipation (and leaned over to turn on the heat—it hadn't occurred to her how chilly a mini-skirt in November would be!) The drive to meet Master at His summer cabin would take a few hours. She followed His emailed directions, stopping only once or twice to refuel, and by early afternoon she was pulling into the driveway of a large cabin tucked into the foothills of Beckley, West Virginia.

Not knowing what He had in store for her left her fearful as well as excited, but disobeying Him was never an option. She went over her mental checklist a final time to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything He had ordered her to do. As she turned the engine off, the cabin door opened and her Master stood in the doorway, clearly waiting for her. Leaving everything in the car and forgetting even to close the door in her haste to fall at His feet, she ran to Him. He stepped back as she drew near; following Him into the cabin, she dropped to her knees and crawled to Him, alternately hugging His legs and kissing His feet. She stayed in her position of obeisance on the floor before Him, the door still ajar, not even caring if anyone saw her but wishing with all her heart that she could have knelt to Him in sight of the world and that she had the right to show anyone and everyone her pride in His ownership and her elation in his presence.

"Hello, j," he said, his deep voice caressing her ears and releasing a cloud of butterflies to flutter in her belly. 

"Hello, Master!" she responded, joyfully clinging to His leg. 

"Present yourself to Me!" he demanded. 

She rose to her feet and stood before Him, arms relaxed at her sides, palms forward in submission, thighs and lips open in the posture of total surrender. His eyes smoldering with tightly controlled emotion, her Master reached out with His left hand and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her close to Him. She staggered slightly, then melted into His grasp. He held her tightly to Him, her cheek pressed firmly against His chest, the rapid beat of His heart in her ear. The essence of His hair, His skin, His sweet warm breath, and His favorite (tasteful and expensive) cologne combined to create the wonderful scent that was uniquely His and j deeply, greedily, euphorically inhaled. Mr. B turned her face to His with His hand still twisted into her hair, and ordered her to exhale. The moment she obeyed, He claimed her lips with His own, plunged His tongue into her mouth, and exhaled into her mouth filling her lungs with His breath. Again, j greedily inhaled, sucking His tongue even deeper into her throat, clasped to Him as if that mating of mouths were life itself. His right hand lifted her short skirt; His middle finger, thick and strong, cleft her pussy lips and ever so gently pressed its way deep inside her. She stood in the doorway, secured by her hair, back arched, arms helplessly at her sides, her mouth filled with her Master's tongue and her pussy impaled on His finger, in a posture of total surrender, not caring if anyone was inside or outside the house, or if anyone could even see her. Her senses were full of her Master; there was no room for anything or anyone else in her world.

By the time He released her, her juices were flowing freely over His fingers and her legs were trembling with strain. At last He broke the kiss. His eyes were smoky and His eyelids half shut as He pulled His fingers away from her pussy, put them into His mouth, and sucked on them. Then He drove His tongue into her mouth again, forcing her to taste herself on His lips and tongue. She had never been able to bear her own taste before submitting to Mr.B, but her Master had told her that He enjoyed her taste and He expected her to do so as well. Somehow knowing that He demanded and expected it made a difference; she obediently sucked His tongue and licked her own liquids from His lips.

Mr. B's voice was husky as He pulled away from her and said sternly, 

"Now greet M. Henri properly." 

Relieved at the chance to kneel and rest her trembling legs, and always eager to pay homage to Master's beautiful cock, M.Henri. She obediently dropped to her knees and gently unzipped His jeans. With loving hands she gently lifted His semi-turgid, long and heavy cock from beneath the waistband of His boxer briefs (even Master's underwear was sexy!). She wished she could take the time to tease and gently play with the silky smooth foreskin, and dip her tongue into the twinkling eye on the tip, but this ritual was formal and strict. So she gently, firmly sucked the head into her mouth, caressing Him with her tongue, enjoying the sweet, faintly salty taste of His skin as His incredible cock slowly slid deeper and deeper into her mouth until the tip was pressing against the back of her throat. 

j knew that Master had always wanted her to deep throat Him, but as much as she tried, she had only been able to open her throat wide enough one time, and she had never been able to do it without coughing uncontrollably. Her asthma kept her from drawing a deep breath or holding what breath she had very long. j didn't think Mr. B realized that she felt as badly about it as she did. She wanted to be able to hold Him in her throat, to be able to take Him as deeply as He could drive, to have Him fuck her throat the way He fucked her pussy. She wanted Him to be able to use her without having to be careful of her. So far she still not been able to overcome her gag reflex. 

j gazed up at Master with tears in her eyes, and He grabbed the back of her head and pulled it savagely to Him, embedding His large cock in her throat. She gagged but He held her there and even though she couldn't breathe and her instinct was to pull her head away, she fought the feeling and let Him hold her, knowing that He knew how long she could handle it. When it seemed she would pass out from lack of oxygen, He released her and pulled His cock from her throat. j gasped for air as her saliva poured out of her mouth and down her chin. She wasn't quick enough to stop some of it from dripping onto the floor. She apologized to her Master for failing again, for making a mess, and not being able to take Him all the way into her throat. He ignored her and ordered her to replace the idol of her sexual satisfaction back into His pants, zip them up and go back to the car to retrieve her luggage. j hurried to obey.

Fifteen minutes later, she had finished unloading the car and her Master had closed the door, stripped her naked, and placed her clothes in the closet. 

"You will have no need for any clothes for the rest of this weekend," He told her.

She was startled at the unfamiliar, stentorian tone of His voice. Then He began discussing dinner plans as if nothing had happened. j decided she must be imagining things.

Two hours later, they had finished eating and had moved to sofa near the large bay window to enjoy the sunset. As the sun dropped lower in the sky and the house slowly faded into shadow, j sank to the floor at her Master's feet, laid her head on His knee, and wrapped her arms around His legs as she leaned against Him, shivering slightly in her nakedness. Mr. B sipped from a goblet of Merlot in one hand, and stroked her hair softly with the other. j's heart was full as she basked in her Master's presence and reveled in the feeling of being totally under His control. With her heart in her throat, she scraped up enough courage to murmur to Him, softly, how much she had missed His discipline and use, begging Him to use her thoroughly, and asking Him please to mark her again, deeply, so well that when she went home she would feel His marks and touch everywhere, for as long as possible.

Mr. B did not answer her, but continued to stroke her hair gently and she was content to sit quietly as the night crept through the entire house, its invasion unopposed by any lights inside the home. Occasionally, a car passed by, adding its sound to the other night sounds of birds and crickets. 

Suddenly Mr. B stood up and said. "Come with me." 

He walked to the door, opened it and stepped out and j followed him still totally naked. She stood, shivering in the chill, as He closed the door behind them and walked to His car. She followed obediently, goose bumps rising on her skin. 

"Get in ," He said as He opened the door. 

She slid into the seat, feeling the cold leather rubbing her skin and sticking to her lightly wherever she was damp. She shivered again, slightly. Mr. B started the car and they drove in silence for about fifteen minutes. He turned down a little-used county road and stopped when it came to a dead end in front of a large wooden house with brightly lit windows. He told j to get out. 

She looked at Him in disbelief and stammered, "M-m-m-aste.. M-mm-aster..?" 

"Quiet," He snapped and she shut up immediately.

He stepped out of the car and walked up the steps to the house and she followed, shaking uncontrollably now. As they approached, the front door, it opened as if by magic long before they reached it and Mr. B walked in without pausing. j following as slowly as she dared.

A voice from above their heads thundered, 

"Hey, Mr. B! How goes it?" 

"Hey, Jon! Everything's good," Mr. B replied. 

Too frightened now to stay back, j trotted to catch up to Mr. B, and followed her Master closely as they passed into a spacious living room adorned with trophies and valuable artwork. From an open landing at the top of a wide flight of stairs a handsome older man was descending. The two men shook hands and embraced as j held herself very still and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. 

"So this is your j," Jon remarked, gazing at her appraisingly. 

"Yeah, this is she, the best slave any Master could want." 

j beamed at her Master's generous and unexpected praise and was able to relax enough to raise her eyes to the men. Jon was a big man, taller and bigger than her Master. He must have been about 6'6" and easily 275 lbs. j shivered as she looked at him. 

"Evenin' j," his voice thundered. 

"Good evening, Sir," j replied politely, startled by both the greeting and the voice, which was as big as he was.

As she glanced shyly at him she wondered if his cock was in proportion to the rest of him and then she smiled to herself at the wanton thought. Later she would find out that it was, but she was as yet oblivious to her fate. Jon closed the front door behind them and led the way down another stairway into his basement. It was a large basement, with walls, floor, and ceiling carpeted in black and framing a perfect, spacious, and obviously extremely well-equipped dungeon. Soft jazz percolated into the room, along with sounds of birds and crickets and blowing wind, but j could see no source. She stood barefooted on the carpet with her hands clasped in front of her as if to cover her bald pussy from view while Mr. B and Jon talked together in a far corner.

After a few minutes, they walked back to her. j looked up expectantly only to react in disbelief as Mr. B said, 

"j, I am leaving you here with Jon. I want you to obey him fully, do everything that he says and I have also given him permission to use you as he pleases." 

j trembled with fear. 

"I will be back to get you tomorrow, " 

"Yes, Master, " j whispered tremulously. 

Mr. B turned and walked back up the stairs, followed by Jon. j watched their feet out of sight, then she heard the front door open and close. She heard her Master's car start and the sound of it pulling away and realized that her he had left her and she was now all alone. 

Her lips trembled and then her legs gave out and she sank to her knees on the carpet. As her mind reeled, she kept saying to herself, 

"I am not alone, my Master is with me always, I am not alone, I will trust Him and I know that He would never let any harm come to me." 

From above she heard the thud of feet as Jon came down the stairs and walked back into the basement. That is the way that he found her, on her knees as if she were praying, hands clasped in front of her, trembling with fear.

===========================================

j was crying, silently—she couldn't help it, the tears rolled down her face without volition, although she made no noise. Jon walked softly around her (for such a big man, he could walk softly when he wanted to) and stood looking down at her. 

"I'm not going to eat you, j. Stop crying." 

"Yes, Sir," whispered.

j, tryed to stop the tears. She took a deep breath and held her shaking hands still. 

"Is this the first time you've been given to someone else?" he asked her. 

"Yes, Sir," she replied, 

her voice a little steadier than before. 

"Then I've been given a honor of which I wasn't aware," he murmured, almost to himself. 

j clenched her hands on her knees. 

"i know He trusts you, Sir," she replied, quietly but with conviction. "He's mentioned your name to me, before.." her voice trailed off as she realized he wasn't paying attention any longer. She turned her head to watch him as he moved to stand before a wall decorated with various whips, canes, floggers and other impact toys. He appeared lost in thought, but then he seemed to make a decision, and turned back toward j.

"Get up, little one, and come here." 

j rose obediently, if a little shakily, and crossed the room to stand silently before him. Slowly her equilibrium was returning to her. After all, he seemed nice, and as he'd already said, it wasn't as though he was going to eat her! 

"Choose a bench. You have 10 seconds to be on it, face down, in submission and prepared for binding." 

j glanced somewhat frantically around the room. She had been too nervous to notice much detail up until this moment. There were several benches, all slightly different, scattered around the room. Different benches were at different heights, with varied coverings and shape configurations. A somewhat larger, leather-covered "whipping" bench caught her eye and she hurried over to it. The bench was wide enough that she knew she would be unlikely to fall off even if she lost awareness of her surroundings, and it looked softer and more thickly padded than most of the others. She was feeling a little less frightened, but she was still drawn to the comfortable and familiar. She scrambled onto the bench and lay face down, spreading her ankles and letting her arms dangle at her sides. She turned her right cheek to the bench so that she could watch Jon approach her from her left side. The leather warmed to her body almost instantly.

j was surprised to notice that Jon had shed his shoes at some point—his feet were bare, his toes broad and strong, his skin a warm toffee color. j chuckled at the sudden realization that all of her inner labels for skin tones related to foods. Usually sweet, sticky, decadent foods. She supposed a therapist could have fun with that fact. She startled as she realized Jon was speaking, and she had missed his first few words. 

"... and hold still." 

"yes Sir, i'm sorry, Sir, please tell me that again?" she asked him. 

"I said, turn your face the other way, grasp the legs of the bench with your hands, and hold still, j. And that is the last command I expect to repeat. Do you understand?" 

"yes, Sir!" she said shakily, and turned her head to the other side. 

Jon stepped closer to the bench and j heard the rustle of silk or hemp rubbing along the edge of the bench. She was beginning to be familiar enough with the various types of ropes her Masters used that she could tell the difference between most of them just from the sound they made rubbing against each other. Hemp was her favorite, because it was so soft and not at all abrasive, as long as she didn't squirm.

j gasped as Jon seemed to bind her ankles in a single practiced movement, and realized she was letting her runaway thoughts distract her again... fortunately, Jon had not said anything else to her yet. He moved quietly and smoothly around the bench, tying first her ankles, then her left wrist, and approaching her right wrist last. j waited for him to confine her last limb but she waited in vain. He had stopped just out of her line of sight—she couldn't see him without moving her head and she knew better, from the tone of his earlier correction of her position, than to lift her head until he gave her permission to do so. She heard more rustling as of cloth softly passing over cloth, and then she startled, all but screaming as the long tails of a leather flogger stung her shoulder blades. For an instant she was terrified, and the next instant her body took over, responding to the familiarity of the flogger strokes, and she was sinking into the pain and feeling it shimmer into pleasure. Her eyes blurred over with red mist and liquid fire burned again between her legs.

j struggled for control—this was too easy, it shouldn't be so easy for him, she didn't want anyone but Mr. B to be able to elicit her body's responses so quickly. But the lashes fell again and again, and she slipped deeper into the pleasure with every stroke, until she was anticipating them and rising against her restraints in order to meet the blows. Until the blow that didn't fall. j came back to herself with the realization of the break in the rhythm; she waited for the next stroke, but it did not come. Then again she heard cloth against cloth and suddenly she realized Jon must be stripping. A moment later her guess was confirmed as he walked slowly around the bench, this time stopping full in her field of view. Without moving her head, that view included the portion of his body that began at his navel and ended with his knees. She sucked her breath at the sight of him; it was so strange, and frightening, and exciting to see a man who didn't own her, naked. And such a man! He merely stood, holding the flogger still at his side, and watched her watching him. Her eyes roamed over his skin, the warm toffee color of his feet repeated over a much broader expanse of belly and thighs, both well muscled and firm with only the littlest overlay of fat, the slight softening that enhances rather than detracts from an athletic build as the owner ages. j smiled and wished she could touch his skin, to see if it felt as silky as it looked. Mr. B had very little body hair but Jon had almost none; she wondered what it would be like to touch him. 




Trust and Submission



"Your eyes give you away, j—you want to look, and your gaze slides away every time you try." Jon's voice broke her reverie and she blushed, to realize he knew her well enough already to see that.

"Blushing does not become a slave, j. Blushing means you are embarrassed, and embarrassment implies shame. A slave is shameless—how can you feel shame for something that is expected-- no--demanded from you? You have no choice but to want men—it is your nature and it is only reinforced by the training and discipline that your Master subjects you to. You want men, and you want to serve men, and be used by men. That is your purpose, j. You are slave. Only slave." 

"Yes, sir," acknowledged j quietly. 

"What are you, j?" 

"only slave, Sir!" she replied. 

"Whose slave, j?" 

"Mr. B's slave, Sir!" (this with much greater conviction) 

"Good girl. Now look at me, j. I am male and you are slave. LOOK AT ME!" and j looked, and then she could not look away. Jon was almost as long as Mr. B, but even thicker. His cock was as big around as her wrist, even only half-erect as it was now.

"Do you like what you see, slave girl?" 

"Yes, Ma—Sir" j stammered in confusion. Jon reacted so swiftly she barely saw him move before her cheek was stinging from his slap. 

"You know better, little one!" he scolded her. "You may serve more than one Master but you give that title to them and them only!" 

"Yes, Sir," j replied, tears smarting in her eyes, her cheek on fire. 

"Better. Answer the question. Do you like what you see?" 

"Yes, Sir... very much, Sir," whispered j. 

"Your hand is not bound, girl," said Jon, apropos of nothing that j could see. 

"Do you like being flogged?" "Yes, Sir," responded j more strongly. 

"You will now earn the rest of your flogging, girl." 

"Yes, Sir!" replied j with eagerness, beginning to suspect where this was leading. Would she be allowed to touch him after all? The answer became clear as Jon stepped a little closer to the bench. 

"You will please me with the hand I have left unbound, j. If you falter or stop, or fail to touch me in a pleasing manner, the flogging stops and the caning will begin. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Sir!" j replied, raising her eyes just enough to see his face, wondering how soon she was allowed to touch him. At her questioning glance, he nodded, just a single jerk of his sternly set face.

j reached out, tentatively at first, then more determined as she realized she could not reach him without a slight strain. She glanced up at Jon's face to see if he would step a little closer but he merely smiled slightly and shook his head. She stretched her arm farther and found that if she held her arm outstretched, she could just reach him with her entire hand. If she relaxed her arm even a little, all but her fingertips were out of reach of his magnificent cock, much less his lovely balls. She wriggled in frustration and was able to gain perhaps a half inch more reach. She sighed and gave up, stretching her arm far enough to cup his balls in her hand, glancing back up at him as she did so. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly; she wasn't even sure she'd actually seen it—he looked very stern still. But as she lifted the weight of his balls in her hand, caressing him very softly and pressing them higher against his body in order to be able to rub them gently while massaging the base of his cock at the same time, she saw his eyes shift slightly... the focus was no longer totally her. She smiled in satisfaction and began to experiment. 

Jon's eyes narrowed in anger as he noticed her smug smile, even as it flitted across her face and disappeared. He stepped closer and grabbed her by her hair, twisting her head away from the bench and her face upward towards his. 

"You will not presume to manipulate me, j. Do not think that because you perform an act that I find pleasing that you are therefore somehow in control of the situation. I will do with you as I will and you will obey and perform as directed."

Then he released her hair with a single hard jerk and stepped back into his original position. 

"Yes, Sir," j whispered, tears welling as her scalp tingled.

j stretched out her arm and gently lifted Jon's heavy balls in the palm of her hand. With feathery strokes from the tips of her fingers she teased his perineum and was rewarded with the resumption of her flogging. She caressed and massaged Jon's balls for several minutes, alternating with light feather strokes near his ass and then the base of his beautiful cock. He groaned with pleasure as he struck her harder and she gasped and wrapped her hand around his rapidly stiffening cock. She pulled him closer with very gentle pressure and he smiled and moved so that he was standing at the head of the whipping bench, never once missing a stroke with the flogger. Now j could no longer see him but she could reach him much more easily.

The tempo of the flogger increased subtly as j began to stroke Jon in rhythm with her flogging. She held him gently, firmly in her hand, her fingers still deftly massaging his balls as she moved to the base of his cock, and then teasing his foreskin as she almost-but-not-quite released him at the end of the next stroke. Her eyes closed as she imagined how it must look, the swollen head above her thumb, captured in the pussy of her palm. She could feel his pulse quicken, the veins of his cock standing out from the soft velvety skin as she caressed him. j was fading in and out of subspace now, the pleasure of touching him the only thing keeping her from drifting off in waves of pain and pleasure from the flogging. Then again the flogging stopped without warning, and j barely had time to open her eyes as she felt Jon pull away from her, before his cock was brushing her lips, and she opened her mouth even as he ordered her fiercely, 

"Take it!"

Jon's cock was rock-hard now, so thick she could barely contain even the head in her mouth. She closed her lips around him as best she could and swirled her tongue along the edge of his cockhead. He grunted and grabbed her hair, pulling her face against his groin as he pushed himself farther into her mouth. She could barely handle more than two or three inches of him, her lips stretched to the limit around the maleness of him, and he groaned again as he pulled back and then pushed into her mouth, rubbing the head of his cock against her teeth and over her tongue again and again. 

"Suck me, j. HARD!" 

and j stopped being careful, sucking him as deeply as she could, grazing him with teeth, rubbing and pressing him with her soft, warm tongue. Jon groaned again, and pulled away from her. Before she could protest, he was untying her left wrist and lifting her to a sitting position. Then he twisted his left hand into her hair again, holding her still while he bent and did something to the rope on her ankles with his right. A tug and the rope dropped to the floor.

"Up!" he said hoarsely, lifting her slightly by her hair. 

j scrambled to her feet, stooped at the waist as he half dragged, half carried her to an armless couch a few feet away. 

"Knees on the floor, belly to the couch, slave," he demanded. 

j staggered and almost fell as he released her hair. He followed her as she knelt at the end of the couch and bent forward, her belly pressed into the soft cushions. Jon knelt behind her and grabbed her by the hips. He pulled j toward him, his cock pressing against the back of her thighs, the tip still wet from her oral ministrations. 

"Open yourself to me!" he ordered, 

pushing against her as she hurried to spread her legs apart, wincing slightly as her knees rubbed on the carpet. Then his weight was against her and his cock was entering her, filling her, splitting her apart. j cried out softly at unexpected pain as he sheathed himself in her body, burying himself to the balls, without waiting for her to relax or for her body to accommodate his size. 

"Does it hurt, j? Does it hurt, girl, to be used by me?" 

"yes, Sir," j whimpered. 

"Good!" he growled, and withdrew almost completely only to drive himself even deeper. 

Over and over, harshly, he buried himself in her warm folds only to withdraw, hovering only an instant before plunging so deeply into her that his balls slapped her ass. Again and again her entered her, pounding into her, indifferent to her soft cries. A thin trickle of blood, unnoticed by Jon or the girl, smeared across j's thigh.

j was drowning in red darkness, the pain of Jon's use and the thrill of it combining to overwhelm her. The sound and the feel and the thought of his fierce taking of her all blended into a single point of pleasure that expanded to engulf her. And then the sky exploded as the orgasm took her, unexpected and too soon, and she was screaming in pleasure and pain as Jon, still hard, continued to pound deeply into her. As her orgasm swelled and her body opened to him further, he was pulling her back against his cock, grunting as his balls swung against her ass, sighing with pleasure as he sank into her depths. j was bucking, pushing back against him, suddenly greedy for the pain, for the fullness, the sensation of his weight pressing into her, driving his magnificent cock even deeper.. Effortlessly his hands clenched around her hips as he stopped her movement and held her still. His nails dug into her flesh and she was cumming around his cock, trying to buck against his hold, trying to push against him, to pull him back into her body as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. Jon chuckled at her obvious intent, and pulled away from her again.

"Oh, no, not yet. What an impatient little girl you are, j," he murmured, pulling his impressive erection from her completely. 

Again he stepped back, simultaneously lifting her by her hair. Suddenly gentle, he slowly maneuvered her into place under a pair of rings in the ceiling a little closer to the wall of toys. j was barely aware as Jon stretched her arms overhead and closed snap lock cuffs around her wrists. She sagged against the restraints as he stepped back to look at her. 

"Breathe, girl," he murmured, and stepped closer to stroke her hair softly. 

"Are you thirsty?" he asked her. 

j nodded, and Jon walked away. j heard running water and a moment later Jon was back with a small glass that he held carefully to her lips. 

"Drink—slowly," he told her, and she glanced at him as she obediently opened her mouth to take the water. 

His face was still unreadable as he tilted the glass, letting only a few drops at a time pour onto her tongue. j held the water in her mouth for a few seconds, the cool water soothing her tongue and throat, dry from her involuntary panting. At last she was able to whisper, 

"Thank you, Sir," and he nodded and took the glass away.

j was able to take some of the weight off her wrists by the time Jon returned. She looked at him curiously as he walked toward her, then past her, smiling slightly as he gazed at the wall of toys and then turned his back to her. Slowly he moved along it, picking up a pussy whip, a riding crop, a shorter flogger and some smaller items j couldn't see. She didn't realize until Jon pulled one away from the wall that the small shelving units were wheeled. Jon laid down the choices he'd made and pulled the rolling tabletop closer to where she was bound. Slowly and carefully he applied nipple clamps to both breasts and another pair to her labia, watching her reaction carefully, adjusting the pressure until j winced. Then Jon removed a length of dark cloth from a drawer and proceeded to blindfold her. j shuddered a little, wondering what would happen next, when Jon said softly, 

"Open your mouth," and gagged her as she started to ask him why. 

It was only a small ball gag, not a choking cloth, but she could no more talk intelligibly around it than she could escape from the cuffs. j started to tremble.

Jon stepped back to observe his handiwork. He smiled at the sight of this woman, bound, helpless, and completely under his control, his to do with as he wished. At least, for tonight. He picked up the pussy whip and began to strike her, hard, across her heavy breasts, careful to hit the clamps with every stroke. j shrieked around the gag but the sound was effectively muffled and not at all distracting. Jon increased his tempo, alternately striking her breasts, buttocks, thighs, shins, shoulder blades and belly, careful never to neglect her breasts and never to touch her anywhere near her sex. Pink weals appeared on her pale skin, criss-crossed in a pleasing pattern and reddening to a deep rose as he worked. For what seemed like hours, he alternated between the pussy whip and the riding crop, smiling at the slap of the crop against thighs or belly. Around and around he paced, smiling with pleasure as she jerked away from each stroke, trying to anticipate the direction of the next blow. And she was always wrong.

Tears were leaking from beneath the blindfold in a very short time, and Jon switched from the crop to the flogger without breaking stride. j was panting around the gag, twisting and pulling at her bindings, torn from her earlier lethargy by the sudden onslaught of constant pain. As the first blow of the flogger struck her upper back, j sagged in relief, relaxing into the familiar pain of flogging. So much less shocking than the pussy whip, the crop or the clamps, almost deceptive in its familiar rhythm, she slipped into the comfort of the blows and no longer noticed the pain of the clamps, until Jon jerked them free and she screamed and screamed around the muffling gag. But the flogging continued, relentlessly, and the pain of the clamps and the weals now covering her from neck to ankle began to shift into heat; her skin felt covered in rippling flame, and suddenly she was liquid fire, dripping wet and burning with need. She tried to beg Jon to use her but the gag would not allow it. She twisted and pulled on the restraints, her wrists rubbing raw as she struggled, but still she could neither escape nor communicate. Abruptly, the flogging stopped.

Needles and razor blades sliced down her sternum and in the shocked seconds it took the sensation to register j barely had time to realize that Jon had started using the Wartenberg wheel. Up and down ran the wheel with its dozens of razor sharp needles, across her chest, her breasts, her nipples, her belly, and j struggled to remind herself over and over that she wasn't really being sliced apart, despite how true it felt. Jon pulled the wheel down, lower and lower, and as the pain penetrated her nether lips the universe shrank to a pinpoint and expanded just as quickly, and j was cumming, shrieking her release into the gag, her body bucking against the pull of the cuffs. Jon put down the wheel and stepped into her space, grabbing her buttocks and lifting her bodily, still thrashing, onto his cock. Her cum-soaked pussy lowered onto his immense, almost painful erection, slipping lower simply from the weight of her body, so sweetly tight! And finally he was ready, and he let the cuffs take some of j's weight again as he began to move inside her, pushing deeper than before, her tissues more relaxed even as they swelled with her arousal. Slowly and gently, then faster and faster he moved in and out of her, her body open and receptive and clinging to his cock as he manipulated her movements to intensify his pleasure. Still gentle, still tender, but faster and faster with the urgency of his need, he moved inside her as he felt his balls tighten and then he was exploding into her, pulling her body tightly against his as wave after wave of his orgasm shattered against him, and he screamed his dominance over her, continuing to thrust into her even as his orgasm waned, until her trembling brought him back to himself.

His mouth against j's ear, Jon whispered into her hair, 

"Truly, your Master is a fortunate man, j." 

j leaned against his chest as he reached over her head and unlocked the cuffs, never lifting her from his body until he could lay her down gently on the carpet. 

"Rest," he said gently, removing the blindfold and then the gag, and she closed her eyes gratefully, barely stirring when he returned some time later with pillows, quilts and blankets.

Quietly he spread a quilt over pillows and then lifted her gently onto the softer surface. 

"Thank You, Sir," whispered j, 

as Jon pulled the quilt around her, and then again as she awoke to the sight of him holding out a large glass of water. j drank gratefully and shook her head when he inquired if she needed the restroom. "Sleep, then, little one... you've earned that at least," and without another thought j sank into darkness.

The next morning she awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon, the sound of murmuring voices and the sight of sunlight slanting down the stairs. Pulling one of the blankets around her, she padded quietly up to the main floor, to find Jon and Mr. B talking cheerfully over a heavily laden table. Suddenly shy, j froze at the top of the steps, unsure whether to proceed or return to the dungeon. Then Master turned and saw her, and He smiled at her and she knew everything was all right, and she ran to Him, dropping her blanket in the process and not caring in the least. She fell to her knees at His feet, and hugged Him tightly around the legs, and laid her head in His lap. Mr. B chuckled and stroked her hair. 

"You have pleased me, j. I am proud of you. I think, perhaps, I'll reward you later this weekend... in the meanwhile, you had better eat your breakfast." 

Master took a plate, and filled it for her, and gave it to her where she knelt, at His feet.

"Eat!" He commanded.

And j, smiling with happiness, hurried to obey Him.



Trust Buster



[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE; THIS STORY HAS A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED: HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

[Father trusts son foolishly; son maneuvers situation in his favor to secure money and his gorgeous mom from father; hatches plan, which works.]

*

If there was a villain in this piece, then surely it was me. My name is James, call me Jim. I had a good relationship with my father, Mal, and my mother, Sue. When I say 'good', I don't mean that they were doting parents, spoiling their only child. I was over 18 now and ordered out of my little bedroom offset from the house, separated by the garage. I managed to do some jobs around town and paid rent for the right to stay in that room as if I were a boarder.

My parents were both from wealthy backgrounds, each with their own trust fund, etc. I on the other hand had nothing as of my 18th birthday. Their generosity ended on that magic 18th b-day. Working two jobs, one in a warehouse as a stacker and the other in a plumbing pipe yard as a stacker, it was great for my tan and my developing physique but not much else. Those jobs made my arms strengthen as my biceps grew until they bulged 23 inches worth. However, they didn't increase my bank accounts. Having to pay my parents for rent and my ten year old car, I was broke. I had to think of something.

I'm very ashamed to admit this; I figured I had to find someone who trusted me, and then take them, big time. The nearest 'sucker' like that was my own father. At 50, he had everything that I wanted and didn't have: a paid off home, trust fund money, and most of all, my super sexy mom. Whereas he was a nondescript balding, paunchy, grey little man, my mother was 43 and as beautiful as ever. At five foot two, she looked very much like Dolly Parton, though not quite as extreme. Still, she had similar fantastic legs, great Barbie Doll type figure, with breasts out of proportion. I am ashamed to admit that I stole one of her bras and used it while I stared out at mom sunning herself by our pool. When I had finished, the bra was half full of spunk. The level of stuff just reached the label reading 36D. The elastic on the bra was frayed before I 'used' it. Those cups had been under such constant pressure as mom's boobs strained that poor thing to the bursting point. You can imagine the thoughts that would go thru an 18 year old son's mind when he saw his mom in the morning at breakfast. Every time that she moved, her breasts would jiggle and shake noticeably. Her 'robe' was a frilly little thing that went down only an inch below her womanhood. Her tanned legs, slender ankles, and gorgeous, smooth sexy feet were on display in those whorish high Lucite slides. The small detail that they were clear plastic, top and bottom, so that you could see the soft soles of mom's beautiful feet even with her shoes on wasn't missed by me.

Well, that was the conundrum; I had nothing but a developing physique. I also had no money, no wife, and no prospects for any miracle. If I could only convince dad into doing something, I might just spirit away some of those things.

Well, on the same day that catastrophe struck I had my opportunity. It turns out that my dad's trust fund had been with that guy Bernie, you know the Bernie guy that now is safely put away in jail. At that moment, dad went from wealthy to poor in a flash. Yes, my gorgeous mother still had HER trust fund, and as long as they were married, that should have been enough. But, a man has pride. He also had some expenses that he would never want mom to see. He had to somehow pay them off himself. On the night that he learned he had lost everything, he approached me for any ideas. The trusting fool, I told him I would think about it.

The idea was a longshot, but I had to pitch it to him to see if he bought it. I told him that there was a huge market for adult films on the web as well as mobile and DVD home use. I told him if we could make an inexpensive such movie, we could make a fortune. 

He said that the studio, actors, etc. would probably cost in the thousands. 

I said: "Sure, it COULD cost that much, if we just turned it over to the pros. On the other hand, we could do everything ourselves, with a rented camera, this house as a set, and even relatives or friends as cheap actors." [I braced myself for his response. This was a 'loaded' suggestion; I wanted him to bite on this so I could suggest me and, yes, mom...]

Dad: "Well, I trust your judgment if you said you studied this in the university library--movie production that is. About actors, I can't see myself in this; as it is, your mother is pretty blunt about how inadequate I am down there. Can you think of anyone we could use to save money?" [I was thinking, "YES!!"]

Me: "Well, mom would be a fantastic actress. I never noticed her in that way, but some of my friends think she is somewhat attractive." [Okay, I underplayed it; if I said that I thought mom was f--king hot and couldn't wait to do her, he probably would have had some reservations about the project.]

Dad: "Your mother? I don't know. Even if she would, who could be the other actor, someone inexpensive but trustworthy?"

Me: "Let's ask mom first..." [Yes! The trap is set, the foot is in it; now to spring it with a 3rd party opinion, my high society mother...] 

Mom for her part thought it was the craziest idea in history. She said even if she was safe, what with her diaphragm and condoms, she'd still feel embarrassed. 

I worked on her for two hours, with dad's encouragement. He was so desperate in his pleading anyone would've played the actress for him at that point. We finally convinced mom to try just a first film. She reluctantly agreed, but only with full protection for her. 

There was a pause of a few days while I rounded up some things like lights and a 1080p camera. With all of that secure, I came into their section. Mom, as was her wont, was in the Florida room, doing calisthenics in a molecular thin grey leotard, her tanned thighs, shapely legs, and ruby red toenailed smooth feet out there on display. I gathered both of them together, telling them I had everything ready, including a script. 

He asked who this actor was going to be that would cost us nothing.

I took a deep breath and suggested myself.

They both laughed. He said: "You can't be serious. Oh, sure, we know you'd work for free and be trustworthy, but how believable would it be for you to be some sexy stud?"

That was my opening; as he stood there, a dumpy 50 year old, next to my sensuous mom, 43 with an incredible figure barely concealed by a skintight grey leotard, I ripped off my shirt and flexed my muscles. They had not seen me since I worked those two very labor intensive jobs, and I was now less a punk and more a hunk. My sexy mother was standing in front of him, which was fortunate. Mom even wiggled towards me, putting her approving hand on my broad shoulders and then sliding them down to my bulging biceps. He couldn't see mom's leotard, as her nipples popped and a huge damp spot appeared down in her blessed crescent. While mom's upper hand was having a field day feeling the super charged muscles of her strapping son, her other hand (unseen by him as it was between her and me) sought out my cock; she squeezed that too, feeling it also expand as it pumped to iron hardness. She quickly felt up its ten inch length from tip to base, hefted the balls, which were the size and weight of navel oranges, and then quickly snuck that lower hand back up to my other arm.

She cooed, "You have to feel this, Mal! It's as hard as a rock! No wonder he can handle those two backbreaking jobs...he must be incredibly strong." For the first time ever, she confided in me, and right in front of him. She whispered: "I'm so proud of you, Jimmy, you are such a man...you are much more of a man than your wimpy father. My God, you are hung like a bull! It's not healthy to carry around all of that cum. You should get rid of it as soon as possible, but do it in a natural way."

Me: [Whispering to her.] "Where's the most natural place for a penis to dump a heavy load of cum laden with lots of babymaking sperm?"

Mom: "In a vagina?"

Me: "Well, it's settled then; I will dump all of my potent seed, millions of vibrant, healthy sperm into a vagina."

Mom: "B..but the only vagina around here is mine."

Me: "Okay, we are all in agreement; I will have to pump all of the babybatter in my swollen balls into your vagina."

Mom: "But I am married, I'm your mom, and this weekend I'm at my peak fertility!"

Me: [I stopped whispering, then smirked] "I can't wait, mom!"

He quickly asked what mom said.

I said that she was just re-assuring me, not to be shy and to make this film for you.

Well, that did it. The first film was all set to go. 

What was great about all of this was that I had gotten the whole idea off the ground; now, I still had control as I handed him the script. The movie consisted of a husband (me) begging his reluctant wife (played by my gorgeous mom) to get more into sex now that they (i.e. we) were married. As the action proceeded, I was in bed with mom. We were playing husband and wife.

Me: "Honey, I agreed to use condoms; the least you can do to show you want us to succeed in the bedroom would be to remove that damn diaphragm."

Mom: "I don't know honey; I have relied on it for years and..."

As part of my script, we stopped to wait for a close-up: I dropped my heavy ten inch cock onto the slavering damp lips of mom's pussy. The camera recorded as I sawed back and forth, trying to raise mom's excitement level via her clitoris. I was succeeding.

Mom: "OH, GOD, you win Jimmy! I will take that thing out." [After a few minutes of maneuvering and a few ouches, she pulled out the weird looking contraption.] 

Me: [That damned diaphragm represented chastity and birth control to me, so I had the camera do a close-up as my big hands grasped that diaphragm and tore it into small pieces. As part of the script, mom had to make me safe by putting a 'helmet on my soldier'. I had purposely NOT bought any oversized rubbers for myself, knowing then that they would have to pause and get some of HIS out of the bathroom. All of this was part of my script, which paralleled my plan. As mom opened the condom wrapper, the camera close-up showed how his size condoms would only be a little cap covering less than a third of my big headed cock.]

Mom looked up at me with awe, saying: "You are so much more man than your father. But that thing is just too big,. We just have to get those oversized condoms, or maybe go to the vet supply place for some horse sized ones." [We waited as I got Magnum Super XX size, which just barely fit. Once he was satisfied he turned away back to the camera. To my astonished thrill, mom used her long thumb nail to perforate that condom right at its end. She looked over as he struggled with the camera shutter speed and gave me a long languid kiss. At this point, I knew that my plan had already succeeded. From a dusty, downtrodden manual worker with absolutely nothing, I would soon have mom. That would include her incredible trust fund as well as her even more incredible figure.]

Even though I had written the script and knew all of the dialogue, he took the time as director to block out the scene.

Mal (dad): "If I read this scene properly, Jim convinces his wife, i.e. you Sue, to have sex with him. He tore out her diaphragm but allows her to find a condom big enough for him to keep her absolutely safe, which she is. You two simulate sex until he pulls out and shoots his two or three droplets on your pubic hair." [He assumed that I was somehow like him and would just have listless sex and then an orgasm in which a few rain drops would fall uselessly to the ground. BUT, that was not my plan! We were about to go off-script.]

I had carefully 'blocked out the script' for the best action for me and my partner, in this case my supersexy mom. The next scene was nuclear hot. I was on my back, with my body on a slight incline. With me lifted by pillows, my powerful 10 inch cock was pointed at a 45 degree angle, perfect for a woman to drag herself up and do the old tug of war. Mom was positioned on all fours, looking away from me. She had to crawl on all fours, backing up, until her tight, warm, welcoming pussy caught my fatheaded cock. As she bottomed out on it, the lips at the entrance to that wondrous place were pushed in, holding tightly around my huge cock. As she moved away from me, pulling away from my cock, the glove tight lips held to the thick fuck pole, pulling out of her love nest. I could watch this and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen. Better yet, I could see, and caress, mom's gorgeous legs and lovely smooth feet, all within a few inches of me. After ten minutes of this, we cut and went to the final love scene.

Still wearing that big condom that just barely fit over the doorknob sized end to my cock, I now had to finish in the missionary position. He had the filming pause to ensure that the condom was still securely on (not knowing that mom had put a huge cut in the condom's cap, making it totally useless.) Then he said action and I proceeded to enter mom. She moaned in pleasure. As he filmed this, he assumed that all of the action and emotion was contrived...little did he know that mom and I were not acting. Every time that I elicited a moan of passion from mom, it was real. Every time it appeared that she had the big 'O' it was real. We were now set for the climax, in every way.

My big cock was withdrawn from mom as we took the positions, mom on her back, legs spread, pussy dripping. Her hands formed a triangle over the entrance, showing me where I had to go. I plopped that babymaker into her capable hands and told her to use it for her own pleasure. 

As the camera rolled on, it recorded mom taking firm hold of that thick hose and bending it as best she could. She first used it to tingle the sensitive labia and clitoris, giving her a first orgasm for this scene (that was six total for the movie so far.) Then, with her hand looking tiny while holding my manhood, she used the rubber covered cock to touch the sensitive inner edges and then the even more sensitive vaginal walls leading into the 'main event room'. Finally, she let go and prodded me with her locked together heels, like spurring a horse.

I didn't need an owner's manual to know what to do. With a manly grunt for the sake of the camera, I plunged all the way in. Mom winced at the power she felt, and then sighed as I withdrew. I pulled all the way out so the camera could record my full size—only the cockhead remaining at the very entrance. With another grunt, I plunged all the way in, and then started some frenetic action. Mom joined in and we looked like two healthy bunnies trying to reproduce. As a matter of fact, we were trying to do just that. During one of our breaks, he had gone to the car to retrieve something, and we talked:

Me: "I just can't believe this is all working out; to be honest, mom, I had planned that this all happen, that I won your heart with, well, my big cock. I must have dreamt a thousand times that I would win your heart and then you'd be mine, dedicated, loyal, and willing to have my babies."

Mom: "Well, I should be mad, but that damn cock of yours! It's amazing you didn't try and seduce the whole town. I can assure you that the old, horny women of my bridge club would all jump at the chance to have you. All of them are married, some are even still fertile. God, I could just see you, looking proudly as those society women rolled in, each sporting a swollen belly carrying your child. Wow, that even turns me on! Well, maybe it's enough that one society woman's belly swells with the life you put into her...and that will be ME and only me! I can still have children, and I WANT children. 

Your father is sweet, but he was no longer man enough after he lost his trust fund and power. Now YOU are the alpha male, the leader, and you must service the woman of the house. When we get back on the set, I want you to think about asserting your physical superiority. I need you to shoot sperm deeply inside me...do whatever it takes, but make it deep inside of me. Think of my ovum, my egg, just waiting for a virile young man to come along and cover it with potent seed. Make me a mommy again...get me pregnant!! If you do, there will be one divorce, one person returned to their maiden name, one trip to Vegas, one quick mother-to-son marriage, and finally, after nine months, one hospital room scene, where mommy plus daddy will equal baby. If I know psychology, assuming the three of us are present at the hospital, at the exact moment the doctor spanks our new baby, there will be one person crying, one person smiling and one person bursting with pride."

We resumed the film, which involved me shooting. I talked him into making a 'creampie' scene. I don't know why he bought into it; if I had a condom on, there could be no creampie (How could there be excess goo dripping out of a vagina when the cock had a 'hat' on?) Anyway, he felt confident that if mom pulled off the condom and I just shot my few droplets (like him) at the outer entrance, there was zero risk. He didn't count on my powerful unit, however.

We got to the climactic final moments. I pulled out and mom removed the cut up and now pointless condom. She sat up as did I; she would milk my huge cock of its few droplets (sic) and end the film. Well, her red fingernailed hands went around that ten inch long tube and keyholed it with amazing speed and purpose. 

As she felt my cock swell and saw my eyes close, she lowered it down. The camera closed in for the few droplets. Then the slit expanded to the size of a bottle cap. The torrential outpouring was like a small dousing of a fire, with wide splashes of sperm-laden seed soaking her inviting muff, her thighs and most of all, the entrance to her blessed chamber. The camera finally pulled away and was turned off as the spray ended, some two minutes later. I bent over to kiss my beautiful mother. However, as he worked on the camera and I attended to her ruby red pliant lips, mom proceeded to use my big cock as a squeegee. She dragged it along her thighs, pushing a huge globule of sperm about to drip onto the bed back towards her very receptive and oh so very fertile vagina. 

My cock eventually gathered every significant puddle, pushing them to the lips of her fertile pussy. She used her ankles and heels once again as a 'spur' making me use my cock as a plow. I pushed all of that collected cum and sperm back inside, and then deeply towards the cervix and fertile womb. 

He finally put the camera away. Now he was thinking of all the money he would make for himself to compensate for his lost trust. Well, speaking of lost trust, I prevailed upon mom to keep to her word.

Sure enough, she kicked him to the curb. For the sake of our modesty, she had me grab that film. It would never be released but only serve as a memento of our first time making love. She did everything else she promised, just as if she had had the same plan as I did. The divorce, name restoration, quick marriage out west, and then settling down with her trust fund money all followed like clockwork. Her trust fund was sizeable, and we felt bad, so we gave dad enough to be comfortable too. It didn't matter to me because I now had 24/7 access to the hottest MILF in the country. 

The only thing that could top all of this was the sheer irony of things. As he was told that it was going to be a divorce for him, he got into a heated debate with mom, basically begging for her to stay with him. Just at the point when she coldly had me flex my big guns, showing him that she needed more man than he could provide...at that very moment, mom conceived our first child. We ended up having five children together; with that trust fund, we could easily afford it. 




Trust Buster



Well, it was devious and nasty, but life is a survival of the fittest contest, isn't it? Dad had trusted me, taken my advice, and now ate his TV dinners alone. Meanwhile, I got the honor of making sweet love to the sexiest woman on earth, my gorgeous mom. With that trust fund money 'doing all the work', my only chores were to watch and listen as one or two of the lucky babies was breast-fed right in front of me. Normally, I would return the sated baby to its crib and then get 'my share', some of that warm, sweet mother's milk for big Jimmy. 

As I sat back, not having to do anything but love mom and occasionally make a baby, I celebrated the completion of one heck of a plan... 



Trust Ch. 01



Dr. Clearwater stood against the rail, knees knocking, obviously terrified. I held the rifle pointed at him. "You took my sister," I screamed this. "I should kill you now."

"Wait." It was Logan's voice. My finger, which had been on the trigger, relaxed just a little. 

"He's mine." 

I shook my head in frustration but backed down. "If you so much as move, Doc. If you even flinch..."

Logan came forward. He was bloody and beaten and obviously having trouble moving. We were on the bottom floor of the oil rig, and we were almost done. With this place, with Omni, with everything. 

Behind me I could hear Rick, Leo and Marketa holding off the attackers. They didn't seem inclined to come down, especially since we had given Rick all of our grenades, and he tossed one every now and then. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the Andromeda making her way to us, maneuvering around the other two rigs. 

"Now, Dr. Clearwater. Do you remember me? You thought I was dead, didn't you?" Logan advanced on him, holding out a hand. 

Dr. Clearwater looked at me in terror. "Please help!"

Logan only chuckled. "My friend, here, see, he's a good man. It would have been good if he'd finished you before I found you. He would have just put a few bullets in your head and you'd have been dead."

He walked until he was only a few feet away from the doctor.

"But me, I'm not like that. I'm what you made me."

"You're wrong, Logan."

"Oh?" His head turned slightly to me. 

"I'm not such a good man. If I was, I'd shoot him now and spare him – whatever you are going to do to him."

Logan smiled darkly. "You see? Everyone can learn." He placed his hands on Dr. Clearwater, and the back of my head tingled as I felt Logan's psychic powers surge. Dr. Clearwater screamed and the color drained from his skin. He collapsed into a heap. 

"Now you're probably wondering what I did. All I did is ruin your nervous system. So you can't do anything but lie there and feel pain. What should I do with you?"

"You could leave him," was my suggestion. "This whole place will be going up in ten minutes."

"That's a thought." Logan faltered and nearly fell and I realized how weak he was. I slung my rifle and went to his side. He leaned on me heavily, and smiled into my eyes. "That was the last one. I found the other two doctors."

I nodded. "Good. Now what?"

"Take me to the panel. Put me in front of it."

I half-dragged, half-carried him to it and laid him in front of it and knelt by him. "And now?"

"Turn that wheel." I began to do so, and I felt him sag a little. 

I looked at his bloody, beaten face. He smiled weakly at me, and I returned the smile. "So, do you have room for a bitter, jaded British man on that ship of yours?" and my eyes widened. I hadn't been sure I would be able to convince him to leave this place. He had seriously considered dying here. And I had promised him I would let him make his choice. 

"Always," and just then I heard a shot ring out. Blood welled up on his chest and his body jerked. "Logan!"

I turned my head. It was Downing, the son-of-a-bitch who had been chasing us for months. Twice he had come upon us, unexpectedly, and both times it had been a hard fight to get clear of him. The second time we had shot him several times and he still survived.

The third time he came upon us we had been in a highly populated area and neither of us were able to draw our guns. It was this time that he told us about Logan's dead wife and child. "Your boy cried for you, Logan," was what he had said. "And he was told you were disappointed in him."

I hated the man.

"I found you, Logan," he yelled gleefully. He leapt down the stairs and I desperately covered Logan's body even as Downing fired again. Indeed this time the bullet hit me. My armor took it, though – it was only a pistol round. 

"Tasha! Now!" And my friend didn't hesitate. She drew the alien gun and shot him through. Downing staggered back, eyes wide. She shot him again. 

I turned back to Logan. Working fast, I got his armor opened and got the wound staunched. He was bleeding a great deal, and needed proper care. Our eyes met.

I had tears in mine. "It's not fair."

He smiled at me ruefully. "It never is."

"Hold this. Keep your hands here." I said, putting his hands to the wound. I picked up my rifle, my beloved G36, and turned and went after Downing. Tasha had used all three shots from the gun on him. Amazingly, he was still trying to rally himself, despite having three holes right through him. 

"That was my friend!" I fired a burst at him. He wasn't wearing armor and holes opened up in him, bleeding through. That was the thing with the alien weapon – it instantly cauterized the wound. A regular gun was better in some ways, but Downing had been shown to be able to protect himself from regular bullets, and the stunning power of the alien weapon could not be argued with. 

"And you took my sister." I was in tears now. All this way, all this time, Logan helping me get Jeanne out, and in the end Logan had finally agreed to come with us and not die here – and now look what had transpired. And it was this fucker's fault.

In a rage I emptied my entire clip in him. He was hanging halfway over the railing now and as I said, he wasn't wearing any armor. Without any of his powerful abilities to protect him, he was nearly cut in half by the rounds. As I watched, his body slipped into the water, into the waves. 

And in that moment I made my decision. I was not Downing. I'd been working very hard on being a good leader, and I'd gotten my group this far. I turned back and went back to Logan and bodily picked him up. 

"You're getting out of here," I said. "I'm not leaving you behind."

"You're a bloody fool," he responded. 

"I know." I replied. 

"The bomb..." he said. Logan was the only one who could trigger the psionic bomb.

"Rick has alternatives." Rick had C4 and explosives, just in case Logan hadn't made it this far. 

"My way...is the best. Once I trigger it, we'll only have minutes to get away."

"I know that." I shouted to my group. "Get to the boat! Now!" They all began to disengage and headed for the boat. I half-carried, half-dragged Logan with me, running as fast as I could. I was a big guy, and Logan was slim and lithe, but I was tall and lanky rather than overly built, and I still struggled with his weight. 

He looked at me, his blue eyes troubled. Putting his hand to his head, he concentrated and I felt the power swell around me. "Done."

I nodded, and drew on the last of my strength. I made it to the edge of the rig and climbed onto the edge. "Leo! Get ready to catch us!"

The huge Samoan stood up in the boat. "Come on, assholes!" I tensed my legs, and together, we sprang. With Logan in my arms, I barely made the boat, but it was enough for both of us to go crashing into Leo's arms.

I put Logan down on the bottom of the boat and began trying to stabilize him as our other friends made it onto the boat. He was bleeding his life out.

Everyone got on the boat and we began to flee as the psychic bomb set off the regular bombs, as planned. But even as I struggled, I felt Logan breathe his last. He went limp in my arms.

"Tasha!" I shouted. "He's dying. Get the paddles!" I began to give him CPR, compressing his chest, and breathing for him. It was an agonizing minute before Tasha came running up with the shock paddles. I cleared the area and shocked him. Once was enough, and Logan came back to me. To us. He coughed and sputtered and weakly threw up. I cleared his airway. I knew he couldn't sit up to throw up properly. He lay back, panting. 

"You're a bloody..." and then half-smiled, perhaps remembering he'd already called me a bloody fool. I laughed.

"What am I, Logan? What am I?" But he didn't answer. I looked up to watch the last of the explosions as we sailed away. Putting my arms around Logan I lifted him up so he could see.

"Look, asshole. There's Omni, burning. That's the last of it." And he watched, and I watched, as the company who had taken my sister, and who had killed his wife and his baby boy, burned, with nothing remaining. 

My sister Jeanne met us when we got back to Edinburgh. She took one look at me and burst into tears, throwing her arms around me. I knew I looked bad, but by then I had stabilized Logan, and with mine and Tasha's care, both of us were looking better. 

At Edinburgh most of us parted. Rick took Jeanne home with him to our parents. Their relationship had started on the road, and I hoped things worked out well for him and my sister. I knew he would take care of her. 

Leo took his little girl home, and Marketa went with him. In the end it was just me and Logan left together.

I don't know if Logan had had other plans or had even thought about what he would do if he survived taking down Omni. I just overrode everything he had to say and took him with me on the Kingfish. On the journey we'd acquired sponsors, and one of the sponsors had provided us with a yacht. It had been our home and our primary method of transportation for a long time. I imagined six months or so sailing around the Caribbean would make anyone feel better. After that, we would see. He could decide to go on his way. 

Logan was badly hurt. I thought he would recover, due to his psychic abilities, but it still took a while. I took him to a doctor in Miami who no doubt thought the wound was due to gang warfare.

After they patched him up, I came into the hospital room to see him. He was awake, and smiled weakly at me. I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Hey asshole, you should learn to duck."

"Thanks a lot. Prick." This was how we went back and forth, affectionately.

"Doc says it was an inch below your heart. I guess Downing was slipping."

"He probably got excited when he saw me."

I laughed. "He was probably so excited he came in his pants. He's wanted to see you for a while."

We both chuckled, and then, "Can't you get me out of here? I think they're all done."

"They want you to stay for a few days."

"I don't care. I'll get better on the yacht."

"All right. I'll get the doctor. You'll have to sign yourself out."

We did so, and the doctor, while clearly not happy about it, signed Logan out. "He'll need help. He's still very weak."

"I can take care of him." The doctor looked at us dubiously but shook his head. "Fine. Sign this. And this." And they took us to the door with a wheelchair and made sure he got in the cab safe and sound. I took him back to the yacht. 

Three weeks went by. I helped Logan when he really needed it, though I could see it hurt his pride to accept too much help. Thankfully he could stagger about by himself, so he could at least use the bathroom on his own, but he needed help getting in and out of his clothes. Being in the Caribbean, though, in the summer no less, we managed to get by with no shirts most of the time. Both of us grew brown and happy in the sunshine.

One night I went in to see Logan. I'd given him the second largest cabin, the VIP cabin, and I had the main cabin. They were across the hall from each other. 

The Kingfish was quite a large vessel. She had three decks. The upper deck, or flydeck, contained a wheel and an open dining area, as well as two deck chairs. The second deck, or main deck, contained a tidy kitchen, the main dining room, another wheel, and a back deck to easily slip in and out of the water. I managed to swim in the blue ocean almost every day. 

The lower deck was the deck with the bedrooms. I had my own bathroom, and he would have shared the guest bathroom, if we had any guests. When our ship was full we had held ten people with ease, so it was enormous for the two of us.

It was late evening when I knocked, and when he responded, went in to see how he was doing. He was stretched out in his bed, not asleep, looking at the ceiling. Behind him his pillows were propped up so he was half-sitting up, his hands folded across his belly. His eyes flicked to me immediately when I came in and stayed on my face. He was clearly tired, but I checked on his wounds every morning and evening.

I sat down on the chair in his room, close to his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Really, really good, surprisingly, despite being shot."

"Ah, well I think that's your natural healing proclivity."

"Yeah, well, it's got to have some advantages."

"Let me look at your chest." Without really waiting for him to respond, I opened his bandages. We'd sort of gotten used to this now, and he was accustomed to my bossiness.

The wound was dramatically healed, far more than three weeks' worth. I shook my head, ruefully. "I wish I had that kind of healing."

He was watching me, and as I examined him, his hand came up and gripped my wrist. I blinked, surprised. He rarely touched people voluntarily, did our Logan.

"I've been meaning to say thank you, Jared."

"Thank you? For pulling you out against your will?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, that. And everything else. Jeanne says you saved my life in more than just that."

"Oh?" We hadn't talked too much about that day.

"Yes. She says you gave me CPR? And you're the one who gave me the shock paddles?"

I nodded. "It would have been stupidly ironic for you to die after I worked so hard to get you off the ship, under fire no less."

"Speaking of which, when did you decide I was getting off the ship? I thought you said you were going to respect my wishes."

I couldn't help but notice he still had ahold of my wrist. As he held it, he moved his fingers to gently rest on the pulse point. His fingers were long and slender and graceful.

I smiled. "If you would believe it, it was when I was killing Downing."

"Oh?" His fingers moved gently on my skin again, and I felt something stirring in my soul, something unexpected. Suddenly my skin felt hot and tight under his gaze.

"Yes...I mean, here I was, killing this guy, less than human, he was an animal at best. Naw, that's an insult to animals. And it was at that moment that I realized truly who I was. I wasn't leaving any of my group behind. I know we said we would respect your wishes, and we always did, so..." here I reached across and put my other hand over his, sandwiching it between mine. 

"I decided it was time for you to respect mine." 

We sat like that for a long moment, and I felt the air slowly changing between us. Suddenly the already small room felt even smaller, devoid of air almost. 

He lowered his eyes before he spoke again. "Jeanne says that you breathed for me. I mean, that you gave me mouth-to-mouth."

I nodded. "Only about a minute."

His eyes came up to meet mine for a second, and then darted away, like slippery little blue fish. "Did you mind?" His voice was barely over a whisper.

"Mind? No...I didn't really have time to think about it."

"Was it unpleasant?"

"Uh, you didn't throw up in my mouth or anything horrible, but it wasn't the greatest, no."

Now he closed his eyes as he laughed. "Thanks for doing that, too." His voice was a murmur, and I realized he was falling asleep. I watched him, as he sank into peaceful slumber, his hand still lightly looped around my wrist.

Are you wondering why I would do such a thing? Why I would stay with him and not disturb him? It's obvious, isn't it? Why else would I take such good care of him? I knew he had had a wife and a son, thus clearly he liked women, so I never made a move. But somewhere along the line, I'd fallen in love with him. I don't know when it happened. He was just so cool, and calm, and put together all the time. It started out with respect, then admiration, and somewhere along the line I caught myself thinking how much I'd like to kiss him, or slip his cock in my mouth, or even just hold him in his bed as we slept together. 

It hurts, when you're a gay man in love with a straight one. 

I listened to his breathing become smooth and steady, and his face relaxed. When he was fully asleep, I gently extricated my hand and went upstairs to the flydeck. I took my seat at the wheel and took us out into the blue, blue waters, thinking of my situation.



Trust Ch. 01



Chapter 1 -- Rite of Passage

"I've got to do something about my love life, Pete," I groaned.

He rolled his eyes and grimaced as he set down my pint on the table in front of me. He'd heard it all before, far too many times.

"How long is it since that skinny tight-arse bird of yours went to Australia?" he asked as he sat down opposite me and took a long sip from his own pint. The first of what I knew from long experience would be quite a few more that evening, it being a Friday.

Was it really almost a year since Joanna had exploded the bombshell that as the next stage of her life plan she was heading off to Melbourne? After a year and a half together I had really thought we were on course. It was the first I knew that she had such a thing as a life plan, and that I was no longer included in it. She had made token noises about me visiting her when things had settled down, blah, blah, blah; but I wasn't about to be fooled any more than I already had been.

I had met other girls since then but nothing worthwhile had come out of any of the liaisons. They were all of a type, the type I was bound to meet working as I do in international private equity services: professional, polished, focussed on achieving their personal and career goals -- working towards the next stage of their life plan.

I wanted something different.

Pete seemed to read my mind. "Your trouble is you keep doing the same old same old and meeting the same birds all the time. Forget all the professional crap. You've got to spread your net a bit wider. All you want at the end of the day is big tits and a tight box."

"And her own pub," I added and he laughed with me. I didn't entirely agree with his cogent analysis of my needs -- however nice they were in their own right I wanted a great deal more than just 'big tits and a tight box' -- but I knew he was spot on about me needing to spread my net a bit wider. After another pint with him I left him to fulfil his quota for the evening and headed off to get my bus home.

I sat by a window on the back seat on top deck of the bus and gazed out. It was early spring and the days were beginning to lengthen so there was a still a little light in the sky not yet swallowed up by nightfall. I idly watched the stop-start panorama of the streets as the bus made its intermittent progress between stops through traffic lights and slow lines of traffic. But my mind was elsewhere, searching for the answer to the question that had taken hold of my conscious thought and refused to let go: 'What did I really want in a woman?' I had to find the answer but I didn't know where to begin.

Just as I was beginning to despair at my lack of inspiration, the bus stopped at one of the main stops on the route. A line of bus stands all had long queues lining the pavement edge and throngs of people milling around. Out of all that mass of humanity my vision was suddenly arrested by one figure that stood out magnificently from the surrounding crowd. She was statuesquely tall and slender; Mediterranean-looking with dark skin; handsomely beautiful rather than merely pretty, surveying all around her with an imperious and almost hawk-like expression in her dark eyes. Her long dark hair was piled up on top of her proud head within a brightly patterned headscarf. Large gold hoop earrings swayed with the movements of her head while a diamond stud in her magnificently sculptured roman nose glittered as it reflected the street lighting. She wore a battered leather jacket over an equally well-worn grey roll-neck knitted fisherman's sweater, old black leggings fading to grey, grey knitted socks and, to my great delight, black slip-on plimsolls with smooth rubber toe caps. A knitted bag with a design that suggested it had come from South America completed her ensemble.

I willed for her to get on my bus and miraculously appear on the now empty seat beside me, but she waiting for another bus. I carried on watching her and wished my bus would suddenly break down. I had almost decided to get off when it suddenly started off again an the last person to get on, a large lady with a couple of shopping bags, plonked herself down next to me with a barely audible whispered 'Sorry' and blocked my exit. I continued to watch the girl for as long as I could until she was lost to my view forever.

I couldn't stop thinking about her for the rest of the journey, and thinking how fantastic it would be to have a girlfriend like her. She was nothing like the polished, professional girls I usually met; she must have been a student or perhaps in art or design; a free spirit, independent, determined to be an individual and express her identity in her own way and on her own terms. Her black slip-on plimsolls had somehow seemed to encapsulate and symbolise all of that which was about her. I was excited by that thought. Maybe I was onto something?

I felt much happier when I alighted at my stop. It was dark by now. The lights shining from the pub on the corner were warm and welcoming and I didn't feel like going home just then so I went in for another pint. Having bought one, I carried it in a zig-zag through a scattering of standing customers to an empty corner table, sat down to face the bar, and almost knocked over my glass in delight at what I saw.

In the time it had taken for me to navigate to my table, a gorgeous Chinese or Japanese-looking girl had perched herself on a bar stool and was ordering a drink. She was very smartly dressed and her dark bobbed hair, make-up, very fashionable spectacles and her accessories were all immaculately stylish and obviously expensive. She wore a smart navy blue blazer over a yachting-style blue and white striped sweater, light blue straight-leg jeans ending at a perfect length just above her bare and exquisitely tiny ankles and, most wonderful of all, on her gorgeous feet she wore spotlessly gleaming white Keds lace-up plimsolls that contrasted beautifully with the warm golden honey tone of her bare feet.

I couldn't take my eyes off her she was so lovely. She gave the barman a beautiful beaming smile as he served her with a whisky and soda and I watched admiringly and longingly as her slender fingers with their beautifully manicured and polished nails caressed her glass and her beautiful white-plimsolled feet flexed, arched and turned little circles around her ankles as she sipped her drink, checked her mobile phone and attended to her make-up. I decided to act. Although I had been wearing my suit all day I still looked pretty presentable. I stood up to approach her and ask if she'd like another drink.

But just at that moment a tall, well-built man with polished, public school good looks and dressed in smart casual jacket, rugby shirt, corduroys and brown leather deck shoes appeared at her side. The long, affectionate kiss they shared made their relationship obvious. I felt totally deflated in that instant. Of course a fantastic girl like her would be snapped up straight away. In other circumstances I would certainly have stayed to enjoy the sight of her for as long as possible; but now I just wanted to go home.

As I headed homeward I felt disappointed; but I now knew for certain what I wanted and what I was determined to find: a girl who shared my love of plimsolls, or who at least liked wearing them and was comfortable with, or prepared to accommodate, the idea of a boyfriend with a plimsoll fetish.

I've loved plimsolls ever since I first wore black slip-ons for primary school PE lessons. Something about the appearance, feel and smell of them really does something to my senses when I wear them, especially when I wear them with women's white ankle socks, leggings or tights, or with women's underwear or with ballet clothing or tight-fitting sports gear. And I just can't get enough of beautiful girls wearing plimsolls, they look so pretty, feminine and desirable. 

Until now, none of my girlfriends had worn plimsolls or had shown any interest in them. They now personified and belonged to a past that I had repudiated from this moment. Finding a girl who loved plimsolls as much as I do would be the beginning of a new and better chapter of my life.

While I had been on the bus I had been feeling increasingly uncomfortable and constricted in my clothes and wanting to be free of them, especially from the feeling of my crotch being under close confinement within my underpants and trousers. I had been able to ignore the feeling in the pub at first because of my excitement over seeing the lovely girl in plimsolls. Now the feeling intensified as I walked home and by the time I shut the front door of my flat behind me I couldn't wait to get naked.

I stripped off as quickly as I could and dumped my clothes on the sofa before taking a refreshing and reviving shower with water just on the warm side of lukewarm, giving my crotch plenty of attention with a very soapy flannel that soothed and glided over my skin. I towelled myself dry and tidied my clothes -- I also have a bit of a tidiness obsession -- and then I was ready to enjoy what I had been looking forward to.

The weekend was going to be a busy one: a cricket club pre-season social on Saturday evening and cycling out to Windsor with some mates on Sunday; but I had tonight all to myself to enjoy my plimsoll passion.

In my spare bedroom is a collection of women's clothing containing lots of things that look pretty and feminine when I wear them together with my plimsolls or my ballet slippers (ballet and ballet shoes are my other great passion): pretty summer dresses and shorts, sexy short skirts and skimpy tops, skinny straight-leg jeans, leotards and legwarmers, swimwear, tights, leggings, ankle socks and knee socks. 

And the neat thing is that they are there quite openly with no need to hide them away. That's because they belong to my twin sister, Bryony, who in terms of overall proportions (although distributed a bit differently) and features is practically a female version of me except that her feet are slightly narrower than mine, which is only a slight problem when I sometimes wear her ballerina satin pointe shoes with the lovely feel of their satin ribbons wrapped and tied tight around my ankles.

She trained as a ballerina and spent two years with an American ballet company before an injury ended her career as a dancer. Being the very clever girl that she is and having a good eye for fashion and design, she soon made a new career with one of the New York fashion houses. She always stays with me on her regular visits to London and it works very nicely for both of us for her to keep some of her stuff here. It's seems a little ironic when I think about it that, given my transvestite tendencies, it was she out of the two of us who turned out to be gay.

She keeps here several pairs of her pointe shoes in various colours -- pink, white, black and red -- because although she no longer dances professionally she still likes to go to ballet classes to keep up her technique and to keep herself fit, now presumably mainly for Laurelle's benefit.

I enjoyed a few minutes deciding what to put on and then got to work. I put on a pair of my sister's black satin briefs, enjoying the feel of them sliding up my legs and over and around my crotch. I added a matching black satin bra, having first filled the cups with a pair of prosthetic breasts such as women who have had mastectomies use. I followed up by pulling on a pair of black stay-up stockings with lacy tops that circled my thighs. I loved the feeling of pulling them on up my legs and settling my feet into them but that was eclipsed by the fabulous feeling of putting on over them a pair of brand new white Keds lace-ups. Putting on new plimsolls for the first time is just the most fantastic feeling ever apart from sex, and I always have several new pairs in their boxes ready for when I need it. The sight of the brilliant white of my Keds contrasting with the deep black of Bryony's stockings sent me into ecstasy for a moment as I flexed and twirled my feet in delight.

I carefully put on one of my wigs: dark hair in a fashionable bob, and then spent a few minutes putting on make-up and painting my nails, which I keep very neat and just slightly longer than normal for a man, and I was done.

Now you could be forgiven for imagining that I looked a right sight at this point; but if you saw me you might think that I didn't look all that bad, quite reasonable in fact. I keep myself fit and trim by working out and doing various sports. I've got long and well proportioned legs that actually look OK in tights. I'm light-framed and agile and carry myself well and I'm not excessively hairy. In fact I remove all my body hair, using the excuse that I'm a competitive swimmer, which is partly true because I used to swim at county level when I was at school.

It's not that I'm into cross-dressing as such, which I know sounds like a ridiculous statement after what I've just been describing; it's all because I love trying to share as much as I am able to in the experience and the feeling and the look of wearing plimsolls -- and ballet shoes -- in the way that girls do. Without my plimsolls and ballet shoes fetishes I would never have had the slightest interest in cross-dressing per se.

I spent half an hour or so taking photos of my self in various sensual and provocative poses that I knew from experience would show my legs and feet to best advantage, and then transferred them to my PC to enjoy watching later. Then feeling slightly floaty with sensual pleasure, I enjoyed a quick evening meal of pasta and a glass or two of Chianti. After a quick tidy up I was onto the Internet for my main purpose of the evening. I had decided that if I was going to spread my net wider, Internet dating agencies would be a good place to start, on the principle that whatever you were looking for there would be somewhere that would cater for it.

A few minutes' surfing brought me to a site that looked as if it might be what I was looking for.

'FindYourFetishFriend.com -- Find The One who shares your passion -- whatever it is.'

For a second or two I was worried that I was just a pathetic, perverted loser to be doing this, but my fears were instantly forgotten as I clicked on the link and saw the first of the 'new members' profiles on the home page. Shelly from Southend-on-Sea was a statuesque beauty with masses of wavy hair falling to her shoulders. She looked fabulous in a tight and very revealing running vest, tiny cut-away shorts showing a generous expanse of very fit thigh and chunky running socks and even chunkier running shoes. From her description of herself it was obvious that running was her passion in more ways than one.

'...If getting hot and sweaty in a tight vest and skimpy shorts is your thing then call me today and we can pound the leather together...'

'Well,' I thought, 'if a fantastic woman like her is advertising herself here what's there for me to worry about?' So I got to work. I'm not a great one for witticisms when it comes to writing so I decided to write about myself in a way that I hoped would come across as straightforward and friendly. After a few moments of editing I came up with,

'Hello, my name's Chas and I would love to make friends with a girl who enjoys life to the full and the fine things in life. I'm artistic and sporty and up for all kinds of adventures. If you're wondering why I'm here it's because I love wearing plimsolls and ballet shoes and I love to see beautiful women wearing them too. So if you are a friendly, fun, ballet-loving, white-plimsolls-and-ankle-socks-kind of girl, I would love to meet you. Please call me on .....'

I completed my profile by uploading a photo of myself wearing plimsolls with casual clothes and chose an option for secure call forwarding, so that any callers would dial a number on the website and then be put through to my real mobile number without them knowing the number. With everything done, I paid for a monthly subscription with automatic renewal and then logged out.

I felt a real sense of achievement: I had worked out what I really wanted in my life and I had done something positive towards fulfilling my desire. After completing the main business of the evening I was now going to bring the day to a satisfying conclusion by pleasuring myself senseless.

I went into my bedroom, took off Bryony's bra and lay back on my bed. I began to run the palm and the fingers of my right hand over and around my bulge, which felt fantastic through the close, smooth satin hug of her briefs. 'I'd love to watch her girlfriend doing this to her,' I thought to myself, and the image in my mind of Bryony and Laurelle entwined on their bed together while both wearing just their panties and feeling each other through them intensified my erection until my genitals felt like they were in a vice. At the same time I flexed and stretched my legs so I could stroke each foot, ankle, calf and thigh with my other white plimsolled foot, which felt equally fabulous through the silky smooth sheerness of Bryony's black stockings.

I enjoyed the blissful feeling of release around my crotch as I slid my sister's panties down my legs and off over my white plimsolls. Then I gasped with deep pleasure at the first feel of my fingers on my stiff, swollen shaft. On the table next to the bed was a jar of virgin olive oil and a small soft haired paint brush. With these I slowly and carefully painted my bulging head and the entire throbbing length of my shaft until it was smooth and glistening in the soft warm light of my bedside lamp. Every touch of the soft bristles on my stretched and hypersensitised skin felt absolutely delicious.

My heavy breath harmonised with the steady pounding beat of my heart as I lifted my legs up and over so that the tips of my plimsolls rested on my pillow on either side of my head. I delighted in breathing deeply in the heady mixed aroma of clean, new canvas and rubber. As I continued to stroke my erection, my swollen head with the wide open eye of my hole now staring directly into my eyes, I painted my anus with olive oil -- giving me another exhilarating feeling -- and then slowly and carefully inserted the tapered and round ended handle of the brush deep into my fundament.

I was groaning in delight now as I stroked my throbbing manhood and contracted the softly pulsating ring of my sphincter on the unyielding firmness of the paintbrush handle buried deep in my fundament. The image of Bryony lying on her back, naked; her long and slender ballerina legs wide apart and her beautiful feet in her snow white plimsolls pointed as if she wore ballet shoes as Laurelle, the black canvas of her Keds almost merging into her skin, with all the grace and power of a black panther pinning its prey to the ground, lay on top her and pleasured her with a strap-on dildo; further intensified the racing of my heartbeat and the pump, pump, pumping of blood through my tight grip on my most sensitive parts. 

Then in my fevered imagination appeared Shelley from Southend, glorious in the Amazonian magnificence of her nakedness, straddling me with her statuesque thighs and sculpted knees like crouching lions. The chunky Nike running shoes that had previously shod her powerful feet were now exchanged for the slightly incongruously delicate beauty of dainty soft pink satin ballet slippers. Her hair cascading in great golden clouds around her Herculean shoulders and her fabulous breasts with their spearhead like nipples rose and fell in a rhythm almost like that of great rolling waves advancing and breaking on a wide expanse of glistening sand as she rode my manhood standing up sentinel-straight within the enveloping, roseate glory of her vulva.

On my left side appeared the tall dark beauty of the girl I had seen at the bus stop, now lithe and long-limbed in her nakedness. Her mass of dark hair tumbling to her shoulders and down her back was perfectly matched by her dark bush of pubic hair that spread between her outstretched legs that flexed with swarthy muscular beauty as she rubbed my body with her long and slenderly beautiful feet in her black slip-on plimsolls with their shiny smooth black rubber toe caps. 




Trust Ch. 01



On my right was the lovely Oriental girl in the pub; heartbreakingly lovely in her exquisitely petite nakedness that glowed like warm sweet honey in the soft light; her dark almond eyes shining at me above her sweet smile and the soft golden globes of her perfect little breasts as she rubbed my body with her lovely little feet caressed within her petite and perfect white Keds. 

My whole body tingled under the exhilarating contact of smooth canvas, textured rubber and the soft and gentle warmth of feminine ankles brushing my skin as they probed and pushed their exquisitely pointed toes into delightful places all over me. Then they both knelt up with their knees apart and, as Shelley from Southend continued to ride me to paradise whilst all the while imploring me in great panting gasps to give her all I'd got, I harvested them both, teasing the warm, moist, swollen ripe fruit nestled and sheltered between their legs. The dark cascades of their hair shimmered and swayed in delightful unison as they rolled their heads and moaned and sighed together in their ever rising feminine passion: Mediterranean mezzo and Oriental soprano in beautiful harmony.

My chest tightened as I felt myself edging closer and closer and I closed my eyes and clenched myself to keep myself on the ledge as long as I could. Finally I gave a deep gasp of ecstasy as I and all the girls in my racing brain climaxed together and I felt the warm splash on my face and tasted the tangy saltiness as with a series of deep pumping shudders I came straight into my wide open mouth.

After I had finished hosing my face with my emission I extracted the paintbrush from myself, dropped my legs back onto the bed and for a few minutes lay stupefied with sated pleasure. I felt as if I had experienced some sort of rite of passage; that my life had truly passed through into a new phase, a new state even. Eventually I got up, washed myself, tidied up and went to bed, feeling deeply satisfied and more than a little excited about the future.