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Beginnings

By: Wldwunz



Perhaps I should explain how we first started. This is entirely true just as it happened. The first time can be truly memorable. 

Due to our work situation, my wife and I were unable to take an official honeymoon. We were able to take a week off when we were married, but then it was back to the grind. There was never enough time for us to take two or four weeks together just by ourselves and celebrate the start of our lives together. At long last an opportunity arose. 

We headed for America's version of a tropical paradise. We planned on spending a week in the main tourist town, then another week on one of the outer islands that was then a bit more secluded and laid back. Our first day there after getting off the plane was striking, if only because of the humidity and bright sunshine. My wife had never been here before, and was amazed at everything she saw. I rented a convertible, and I remember looking over at her as we drove from the airport to the hotel. She was like a little girl in a candy factory, and I loved her even more at that point. 

The next few days were what honeymoons were all about. Waking up in the morning and making love, having breakfast in the open-air restaurant of the hotel with the surf in the background, days at the beach, evenings of dinner and dancing, and nights of wild, passionate, headboard banging sex. How could anyone blame me? After all, I had married the prize of our company. She was 5' 8" tall, 130 pounds, a jaw dropping 36D-26-36 figure, dark brown hair down to her shoulders, and blue-green eyes set in a face that breathed seduction. Coupled with her penchant for short, tight skirts and high heels, she was a walking wet dream. Walking arm in arm down streets in any town, she was guaranteed to turn the heads of certainly men and often women.

My reaction towards other men's displays upon seeing her was more of a surprise to me. I was extremely jealous when other men would make gestures and try to move in on previous girlfriends. Jealousy would well up within me and want to explode through me, although I had long since learned to temper my anger than through physical reaction. What surprised me now was that I was extremely proud this beauty had chosen me to be her husband, and to see men turn their heads to watch her walk past made me love her all that much more. I felt extremely lucky and blessed to be by her side, to make her laugh, and to have her snuggle into me after passionate love making with the lights off and shades open in our hotel room.

After a few days we managed to adjust to the warmth, the humidity, and the time zone. We were feeling comfortable both in our surroundings and with each other. This was the first real time we had together since being married, and we loved every minute. Still, now that we were adjusting and all our cares had evaporated, I wanted to try a little something different than eating dinner and dancing.

"What do you think about going on one of those sunset cocktail sails off the beach?" I asked. I mentioned that it wasn't that expensive considering the drinks were included in the price. 

"Sure, sounds good to me. What should I wear to something like that?" she replied. 

"Well, from the pictures in the brochure, it looks pretty informal. Probably just a top with either a pair of shorts or a light skirt and sandals will do the trick. I'm going to wear a t-shirt, my shorts, and my sandals," I said.

"OK with me. When do we have to be there?" she asked from the area of the bathroom sink, towels holding up her hair and barely covering her body.

"This says the bus will be at the front door of the hotel in about an hour and a half. Let me call and make reservations for tonight," I said.

Reservations were no problem, and in an hour we were certainly ready. The bus was waiting and we climbed in. We stopped in front of three more hotels until the bus was just about full. I mentioned to my wife that with only this many people, it should be a lot of fun. The bus droned on to the harbor area of town, the driver talking about the city, the customs, the traditions of the islands, and much more. We managed to screen it out and focus on each other. She looked radiant sitting next to me. Her face was framed by a slowly descending sun that filtered through her hair, making the light appear to shine from her. I could feel myself falling in love with her over and over again. Tonight promised to be wonderful.

When we arrived, we were in for a bit of a shock. We were the last bus of tourists to arrive. The boat was nearly full. The only space in the catamaran was on one of the bow pontoons. The boat was filled with Australian schoolgirls on holiday. Although I certainly wasn't complaining about being on the ocean with a boatload of female high school graduates, there was absolutely no room to dance or otherwise move about except a narrow pathway to the washroom. We moved to the available seats. I sat next to a rather dour elderly lady while my wife sat next to a couple who appeared to be our age. I found out from my neighbor that she was one of the chaperones for the graduating schoolgirls. She was strict in her duties and kept her eyes and ears faithfully tuned to her charges. 

We found out that the couple seated next to my wife were on their last evening in the islands. The wife was quite attractive. I guessed she was about my wife's height, and slightly smaller, say a 36C and 120 pounds, and with dark blonde hair that went just past her shoulders. The husband was close to my size, perhaps just a shade smaller than my 6' 1" and 220 pounds. Whereas I had a full yet trimmed beard and moustache, he was clean-shaven with dark blonde hair. Tomorrow morning they had to return to Europe and their routines. Since this was their last evening in this paradise, they wanted to do something special. Although they spoke English, the wife only knew a few words and phrases. I knew the equivalent amount of German, and my wife knew none. They introduced themselves at Peter and Gertrude. They lived in the southern part of the country in the Tyrolean Alps. We began talking about my two trips to the area, and after sharing several pitchers of some type of rum drink, we were laughing together like old friends.

The boat turned around and headed back to the docks as the sun set. We were certainly in better spirits disembarking than when we first saw the sailboat filled with people. We continued chatting as best we could as we climbed back on the bus and headed back to town. They sat in the middle of the bus with Gertrude next to the window and Peter on the aisle. We sat directly in back of them with my wife next to the window and me directly in back of Peter. By now it was dark outside, and mercifully the driver kept the lights and his microphone off inside the bus for the drive back. 

Traffic was now an abomination. Apparently we weren't the only ones planning on driving into the resort area for an evening of fun. It appeared as if half the people on the island had the same idea at the same time. The bus was crawling towards the hotels. 

I looked over at my wife and smiled. She had her head back on the headrest, and her eyes were almost closed. Her perfect mouth was slightly open. The contrast of her now tanned shoulders with the white tank top were noticeable and quite a turn on for me. I moved my hand over and put it on her bare thigh next to me. At that moment, she opened her eyes slightly and turned her head towards me.

"Quiet! Look," she whispered as her head turned back to the front and then down slightly. I followed her gaze and saw that our newfound friend was certainly testing the waters. He had begun our trip back with his arm along the seat back so that his hand was over his wife's shoulder near the window. At some point, he had let his hand slide from his wife's shoulder down to my wife's knee next to the side of the bus just below the window. 

I was shocked!

"This is my wife you're fooling with, buddy!" was my initial reaction. However, instead of trying to twist his head off, I looked up at my wife to gauge her reaction. Her head was once again back against the headrest, eyes almost shut, and mouth slightly open, breathing heavily. She was enjoying his ministrations. I looked down again and I could see him slowly running his hand up her thigh and back down to her knee. 

What was even more surprising was my reaction. My cock had begun to tent my shorts. I was really getting excited seeing this guy feel up my wife! Now I was really shocked. I didn't know how to proceed, but from the look on my wife's face, I didn't want to stop her pleasure. I saw that same look every time I got between her legs and began kissing and licking her delicious pussy. I would look up at her at intervals and took pleasure in seeing her pleasure. I loved her!

I decided to do something bold, something I would never imagine myself doing just a few years earlier. I reached over and grabbed on to his hand. My wife's eyes flew open. I looked ahead and could see Peter in the seat in front of me straighten in his seat. Instinctively he tried to pull his hand away, but I held it fast against my wife's smooth tanned thigh. 

"Slide down in your seat just a little bit," I whispered to my wife. She moved down a few inches so that the bottom of her baggy shorts was at the end of the seat. Still holding his hand in a vice grip, I began moving it up my wife's thigh. Peter realized what was happening when he felt the bottom of her shorts. Instinctively his fingers crept inside the shorts and continued their stealthy movement upwards. 

"How's that feel?" I whispered in my wife's ear. She could only nod her head slightly in agreement, her eyes still closed. Leaning more towards her to shield us from the rest of the passengers, I reached up with my hand and began lightly brushing her breast and nipple closest to me through her top. She made a slight moaning sound. She was certainly enjoying this. 

I felt her hand move over my bare leg and up to my crotch. She began lightly tracing the outline of my hard cock near the zipper of my shorts. I began playing seriously with her nipple, twisting, tweaking, and lightly pulling. As a result, they were poking against her tank top. Her bra was a thin lacy thing, and the pressure of her nipples against the fabric made the outline show clearly. 

I moved my hand down to my wife's lap and used a slight pressure to move her thighs a bit further apart. She obliged as much as possible. This allowed Peter in front to move his hand further along her thigh up her shorts. I slowly lowered my hand from her breast to her crotch. She felt warm through her shorts. I knew she was wearing panties, but they matched her bra so they were mere outlines in lace. Soon, I met Peter's fingertips with mine at the edge of her pussy. My wife slid down in her seat a little further. I could feel Peter's fingers begin rubbing up and down her slit. I tried to concentrate my actions at the top of her slit while Peter concentrated on entering her wet pussy. A little moan and shake from my wife let me know he had succeeded.

After several more minutes of snaking through the traffic, my wife leaned her head down on my shoulder. Her fingers closed around the outline of my cock inside my shorts, and I felt her shudder. She was having an orgasm by another man! It was unnerving to realize what was happening, but stranger still to realize that I was playing a major role in all this. I could feel the pre cum start to seep from my cock and soak my briefs inside my shorts. My wife shuddered again with another orgasm. I looked down and could see Peter's fingers moving inside my wife's shorts at her pussy. I then realized that if we kept this up, I would soon be shooting my cum inside my shorts, and the resulting stain would be nearly impossible to conceal inside the hotel lobby. 

Just then the bus turned and came to a stop at one of the larger hotels. Peter quickly pulled his hand free and traced his fingers along my wife's thigh. I could see in the dim light of the street lamps the shining streaks of cum on her thigh. She released her grip on my cock just minutes before I felt that I was going to make quite a mess. 

Peter helped his wife Gertrude out of her seat, and then looked back at us as he walked towards the door. He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. My wife still had not opened her eyes. I imagine my jaw was still on the floor, but I could only sit there as the realization of what just happened hit me. Neither of us moved as the door closed and the bus moved on. We stopped in front of our hotel and clambered out quickly before anyone had a chance to see the wet spots on our shorts. 

Once back in our room, I grabbed my wife and held her close to me. I leaned over and we kissed with a passion unlike we had known before. Her tongue went immediately into my mouth as mine went into hers. My left hand went to her breast and my right to her ass, pulling her tight against me. She slid her right hand down between us and began rubbing my cock through my shorts. Her left hand pulled my head into hers as we continued our kiss.

"Let's try and find some real adventure tonight," she breathed into my ear. I thought we had enough adventure for one night all ready, but she moved away from me to the bathroom, grabbing her short black dress with the flower prints along the way. 

"Put on that golf shirt of yours and a pair of slacks," she said. I just nodded and went to the closet to change. By the time I finished, she came out of the bathroom ready to go. She looked stunning. The dress came to mid-thigh. She wasn't wearing nylons, and when she put on her heels, her legs were perfect. The tan she had sought was now paying off. As she moved I could tell that she lost the bra during her change. I went to pull her to me again, but she just allowed me a quick peck on the lips before heading to the door. 

We had a more leisurely stroll through the lobby this time, and in five minutes were at the hotel lobby where Peter and Gertrude had left the bus. We walked in to the registration desk and gave the clerk their name. No such guests were registered at the hotel. She checked again, but no matches came up on the computer. Shrugging her shoulders and offering a quick apology, she quickly became busy gathering papers on the desk. I took my wife's hand as we walked out of the hotel lobby and into the local nightlife. 

"Bummer," I said, "I wonder where they're staying?"

"Well, there's about a hundred hotels here," my wife replied, "and probably a couple thousand rooms. You could start on one end, and I'll go to the other. We'll meet in the middle at sunrise."

"Wait a minute," I said. "They're from twelve thousand miles away, and this is their last night in the islands. Let's check the big souvenir shops on the other side of the block."

We began walking around the block, my wife's arm in mine. We saw the shop with the large display windows and bright lights inside and out. We walked along the outside looking in. People of all shapes and sizes were milling around display cases, but no one looked familiar. 

Then my wife stopped and pointed. Unbelievable! There they were inside looking over a wood carving behind one of the display cases. Peter was still wearing his shirt and shorts, and Gertrude was in her patterned skirt, peasant blouse, and vest. Grabbing my hand, my wife led me inside. 

Peter looked up and saw my wife walking towards him. His eyes opened wide and his mouth started to open. He nudged his wife who looked up and saw us as well. 

"This is no way to spend your last evening here," my wife said. "Why don't you come with us? We'll have a real celebration."

Peter leaned over to Gertrude and they spoke softly in German for a few minutes. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and started walking out of the shop.

"Please, come with me," he said, "I have to go to our room for a few minutes. Gertrude will meet us there shortly."

We followed him out of the store and around the corner. We passed the big hotel where we made out initial inquiry and continued walking. One block further down, we entered the darkened lobby of what was once a hotel but had now been transformed into a condominium. We climbed into the elevator and went to the third floor. Peter produced a key and let us in. He did not turn on a light.

"Please, we must be very quiet. Our friends are sleeping in the other bedroom," he whispered. "They were too tired to join us on the boat and wanted to sleep before our plane ride."

"We can always go to our hotel," I said. "They have a nice lounge and a bar with real drinks." We all chuckled lightly, not wanting to make noise.

Peter was staring at my wife the entire time. The light of a street lamp filtering through the drapes silhouetted her. We sat down on a sofa and Peter sat in a chair by the kitchen area of the condo. The short skirt on my wife's dress had risen to just below her panties. She was making no effort to hide them from our gaze. After a few minutes of forced silence, I realized I still had not used a bathroom after leaving the boat.

"Peter, I have to use the bathroom for a minute. Please excuse me," I whispered.

He pointed to the appropriate door, which I entered. I closed the door, turned on the light and then the fan. After taking care of business, I turned off the light, but instead of turning off the fan, something clicked in my mind. I slowly and carefully opened the door just a crack and looked out into the main room. 

As I thought, Peter had just helped my wife up off the sofa. He pulled her to him in the middle of the room. He put his arms around her and she did the same to him. Their kiss was pure passion. I thought back to a half hour earlier when I was doing the same with her. My cock was growing rapidly in my pants. I watched as his hands slid down her back to her ass. Then, he reached the bottom of her dress, and slowly began moving his hands back up. 

He brought her skirt to her waist and began running his hands over her panty covered ass. The panties were a sharp contrast to her tan legs and black dress. I could hear moaning from the two of them. Looking closer, I could see their mouths moving as their tongues explored each other. 

My cock couldn't take much more. I unzipped my pants and took it out. I began stroking it slowly from the crown to the base. The relief was indescribable. I could feel it throb in my hand as I watched Peter lower my wife's panties down her ass cheeks. One hand went to the front, and they stopped kissing. My wife's head rested on his shoulder as his fingers found her pussy once again tonight. I could see her hips rock back and forth ever so slightly as she rode his fingers. She looked up at him again and once more their lips came together.

I was stroking my cock harder and faster. It was so exciting to see my wife in the arms of another man! I didn't want to come yet, so I stopped playing with my cock. I wiped the pre-cum off and flushed the toilet. Turning off the fan, I opened the bathroom door fully and walked out. They had parted, and my wife was arranging her dress as Peter sat back down. I stood next to my wife and kissed her deeply. I could taste something strange, but there was no mistaking her passion. Our tongues played together, and at one point I sucked her tongue into my mouth. A groan pf passion came from her throat. I pulled away, turned towards Peter, and smiled.

We heard a key in the door handle, and Peter went to it, opening it for Gertrude. Looking at her in the light of the hallway, she was truly beautiful. Peter stepped outside to talk to her. My wife and I walked to the window and looked down onto the street below. A few minutes later, they both entered the room.

"We wondered if it would be possible to go to your hotel room," he said. "We do not wish to wake our friends."


Beginnings



“What are you looking for?” The question was not unexpected, yet he was not sure how to express his feelings. 

“I…I’m not sure,” he replied. His broad shoulders slumped a little. Suddenly, he leaned his head back against the wall. “I’m not even sure why I’m here,” he muttered.

She studied the young man. He was easily seven feet tall, well muscled and handsome. He had long, dark auburn hair and amazing green eyes. She looked over the forms he had filled out. “You indicate here that you are thinking of marriage,” she said quietly. “Have you proposed?” 

He shook his head. 

“Do you love her?”

He hesitated so long, she was certain he would not answer. Then he sighed. “No,” he murmured, “not really.” Her silence encouraged him to go on. “It’s expected,” he explained, “her family, mine…” He shrugged. “I just wish…”

“What do you wish?” she asked when he did not continue.

“I just wish someone would tell me what to do.” His soft answer sounded wistful.

She set the papers on her desk. Tell me what to do. “Stand up please.” It was not a request and he found himself on his feet before he could think about it. She stood as well and began to walk around him, studying him. She noted a quiver. Physically strong, intelligent. She knew what he saw as she circled him. A mature woman, not fat, not slim. Full figured, a little gray in her hair.

“No,” she said, “I don’t think you should marry.” A tenseness went out of him. “Remove your clothes.” He looked at her in shock. Her expression said that she was serious. He slowly stripped, revealing his strong body. “Kneel.” Without thought, he dropped to his knees. She caressed his hair. “Is this what you wish?” she asked softly. “Someone to tell you what to do?”

“Yes, please,” he whispered.

“And if it involves sex?”

His eyes closed and his penis surged erect at her soft question. “Yes, please,” he whispered again. Her hand was again on his hair. He moved his head to her touch.

“Why do you come to me?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, his confusion in his soft voice.

“If you stay with me,” she said, still caressing his silky hair, “you will be required to do exactly as I tell you. No questions except for clarification. No objections. You will stay with me for one year. As my slave.” She felt him tense at the word. “In return, I will give you the control you seek. I will not abuse you, although I may…or may not…hurt you.” She saw the quiver of tension in his muscles, yet he still leaned to her caress. “There will be sex,” she murmured, “a great deal of sex.” The husky purr of her voice made his penis throb. When she stepped away from him, he felt suddenly deserted. “You may dress,” she said. “I want you to consider what I have told you very carefully. Once we begin, you may not leave until the year is completed.” She watched as he slowly dressed. “Call me in one week with your decision, please.” A request this time.

He looked down into her eyes. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, “I will.”

She offered her hand and was pleased and surprised when he kissed it softly. She sat thinking after he left. She had not planned to take another submissive slave. There was a huge emotional investment required for both halves of the contract. Yet, she missed the strength of a male submissive. And to be honest with herself, she missed the sex. She would see. 

In the meantime, he, too, had a lot to think about. Her soft voiced commands had him obeying almost before he knew what she said. Stripping had been a surprise and more so that he did it without embarrassment. He thought more about that. Nakedness was vulnerability, especially if no one else was unclothed. Yet something about her attitude was comforting. Then…a year. As a slave. With no will of his own, no action she did not direct. He remembered the caress of her hand on his hair and how…safe…that made him feel and how alone he felt when she took her hand away. How could someone he’d just met make him feel that way? He resisted the urge to call her immediately. She told him to take one week to think and consider. He had the certain feeling that if he called sooner, she might refuse him. He sighed. It was going to be a long week. And a difficult one as he began to distance himself from his current life. He knew he had already made his decision when he made arrangements to absent himself for the year she required. At the end of the week, he called her.

Her voice made him quiver. “Ma’am,” he said, “I have decided.” He took a deep breath. “If you please, I would like to…give you one year.” She was silent so long, he feared she would refuse.

“Very well,” she said finally. “Do you require time to arrange things?”

“No, Ma’am,” he replied, “I have already done so.”

A soft chuckle. “You were so certain of my acceptance?”

“No Ma’am,” he said at once, “but I wanted to be prepared.”

The soft laugh again. “You have my address,” she said. “Tomorrow morning. You need only bring your personal toiletries with you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. He heard the click as she disconnected. A sudden rush on unease. What was he doing? He almost called her back to say he had changed his mind but couldn’t quite bring himself to pick up the phone again.

She hung up slowly. He seemed eager to begin. She knew he had no real idea of what he was getting into. She only hoped she could provide what he was looking for. She also knew that her form of domination did not meet he majority ideal of a Dominatrix. Many felt she was too…soft. She sighed and went to bed. She would see tomorrow. 

She was sipping coffee when he was ushered into the room. “Good morning, Ma’am,” he said softly. She set the cup in its saucer. 

“Good morning,” she replied. Then she stood. “Come with me, please.” She led him to her car and motioned to the passenger seat. He first opened the driver’s door for her and waited until she was settled before he got in. He placed his bag at his feet and buckled his seatbelt. She took him to another house. Small. Isolated. “We will begin here,” she said as she parked. Inside, she gestured to a bathroom. “You may put your things in there. Then please remove your clothes and bring them to me.” She watched him struggle briefly.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he then said and did as he was told. She was seated in a comfortable chair when he returned, his clothes in a neat bundle, which he offered to her. 

She took them and laid them on the table beside her. “Kneel.” He went to his knees. She got up and gently put him in the position she wanted. Knees apart, back straight, hips resting on his heels, hands on his thighs. “Remember this position,” she said.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Good. He did not question or object. He watched her carefully. He’d expected leather and chains, whips and handcuffs. Her lips twitched. “Not quite what you expected?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Whips and chains are not my style,” she said, “but I do have restraints and they will be used.” She watched him swallow.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said softly. 

“You will keep your eyes on me at all times,” she continued, “and remain close to me.” She stood and removed her clothing. “I am a sexual dominant,” she said softly, “pleasure me.”

He began at her feet, kissing and caressing. She did not touch him or give him any clue as to what she wanted. He would learn to please her from her reactions. So far, he was doing well. He had kissed and caressed her body. Her hiss of pleasure told him he was doing what she wished. His tongue finally tasted her, then teased and probed her until he felt her quivering. His penis surged to almost painful hardness. He kept licking her, sucking her clitoris gently between his teeth. She began caressing his hair and he moaned softly as the feeling of comfort filled him. He concentrated on pleasing her. Her orgasm was sudden and intense. He kept tonguing her, driving her orgasm higher and higher until her hips bucked and she cried out. Then he eased her back from the heights, his tongue and teeth slowly bringing her back. 

When he lifted his head, her eyes were shining. “Shall I show you the reward for pleasing me?” she whispered.

“Yes, please, Ma’am.”

She placed a ring around his rampant penis. “So you can last,” she murmured. Then she laid back and guided his steel hard erection to her dripping vagina. He slipped into her wet heat, moaning softly at how tight she was. Then he began moving in her, taking her until she convulsed in orgasm. Not stopping, plunging, thrusting, lost in her tight heat, wanting to climax, wanting to fill her with his fiery ejaculate. She writhed and moaned, her body convulsing, the spasms massaging his massive penis until he could stand any more.

“Please, Mistress!” he gasped, even as he thrust harder into her, “please!”

She reached between their bodies and released the ring. His penis swelled larger. He pounded harder into her, wanting release, needing release. Yet it seemed just out of reach until her hands were again in his hair. He exploded, jetting hard and deep in her as she clenched him and screamed, her body convulsing in muscle straining orgasm that wen on and on as he filled her. They finally lay tangled, breathing heavily, her hands softly caressing him.

“Mistress?” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“May I pleasure you again, Mistress?”

She studied him, noting that he was again growing hard. She smiled. “Pleasure, me,” she whispered, “and receive your reward.”

With a contented sigh, he moved between her legs, his tongue tasting their combined fluids as he pleasured his mistress.

A year was not going to be such a long time after all.



Beginnings



This story might have been true; it might have been imagined. I can't remember any more. I needed to write it, and there may yet be more to come.

"But to truly surrender, unconditionally and totally, to the desires of another? How could you do that? What about the trust...'

Her voice trailed off into a murmur, her eyes lifted to her friend sitting opposite at the table. She had known that Anne was sexually adventurous, but this new revelation was a surprise.

"It needn't be so difficult, Nicole. Haven't you played those little bondage games with your boyfriends, letting them tie you and blindfold you, the helpless damsel, while they have their wicked way with you? Or let them put you over their knee, and spank you for the naughty girl that you really are?"

Anne's deep, brown eyes stared intently back, meeting the her friend's gaze, almost challenging her.

"I might."

Anne laughed, "And you have always made sure that you could release yourself from your bonds, just to be sure, and asked that they only use their hand, gently?"

She blushed, deeply. Her pale complexion flushed red to the roots of her blond hair.

"It is merely playing a role, pretending to be someone that you are not. Think how refreshing it would be to have absolutely no power over what happened, how you would feel no guilt at what you were forced to do? Have you never dreamed of being an object of passion and lust?'

" But the pain..."

"The pain is not necessarily the point. It is the potential, the anticipation. Imagine being bound, hands together over your head, feet spread wide apart. Blindfolded you would not now whether to expect a caress, the touch of a whip, or even to be entered. How long could your mind and body take the torment?"

"I..."

"Think, too, of the denial, of being brought to the very edge, but not being allowed to cross into ecstasy. Your body would cry out for more, but you would be cruelly teased and denied."

Nicole began to stutter. She could not break the steely gaze that confronted her. Without breaking the eye contact, Anne drained her espresso.

"Think of the intimacy that can come from trusting another to do no harm when you are so tempting in your helplessness. "

She stood up, put the coins for the coffees on the saucer, pulled on a pair of leather gloves and left. Nicole sat and watched her leave. She was tall and slim, elegant in deep red, which contrasted with the thick black plait that hung almost to the small of her back. She had the measured step and sinuous walk of a woman who habitually wears tall heels. Her leather boots were close fitting and polished, showing the length of her legs. Nicole sighed and gathered her things to leave.

It had always been a curious relationship. Nicole would never have described herself as a lesbian, nor did she think of her friend as one. But there had always been some sort of frisson, and Anne's stories of sexual abandon had always given Nicole the frisson of envy. They had kissed once, both drunk, but not so drunk as to not know what they were doing. 

Too, it was true. She had often fantasised about being bound helplessly and used, even tried it a copule of times. She had always rationalised it, thinking it was her way of controlling her fears of being out of control, but the power of the fantasy was strong. She had devoured 'The Story of O', and had never been sure whether it was the fantasy or its hold over her and the feelings that it evoked that scared her . She had felt the cold air on O's naked breasts, the tight leather of the bracelets and collar that she wore. Wincing, she had even imagined the feel of the thick plastic phallus fixed in O's behind. She had hardly dared to imagine the feel of the riding crop against her thighs.

"Excuse me, are these finished?"

She started, but recovering, smiled and nodded at the waiter. She stood to leave. She was still thinking. If there was anyone she could trust...

The next morning, a Saturday, a parcel arrived. It was heavy and about the size of a large book. It was wrapped in brown paper, but inside was a pink, silk-covered box tied with red ribbon, perfumed with a heavy scent, almost oppressive, but deeply feminine. She guessed who it was from, and went into the kitchen, placing the box on the table. Somehow, she knew that she would need to be sitting down. Lifting the lid of the box, there was a note on heavy paper, handwritten in Anne's neat, italic writing.

'Dearest Nicole,

I hope that our conversation did not shock you, nor that these gifts will offend. The perfume is my personal favourite, and I hope that you will grasp the significance of the rest.

Your loving

Anne'

Inside the box, nested in tissue paper was a bottle of perfume. It was the same heady scent as the box had been sprayed with. The scent was of roses, but there was a deep, musky undertone that made Nicole think of arousal. She had showered already, and though the perfume was an evening scent, she sprayed a little on her wrists, rubbing them on her throat. Lifting the tissue paper, there were three strips of leather, each about the thickness of a finger, but very heavy for their size. Two were short, the third was longer and thicker. Each ended in a silvery metal tongue at one end, with a matching socket at the other. In the centre of each strip was a silvery metal loop about an inch in diameter. The metal was cold. She assumed from its dull sheen that it was stainless steel. A small key was tied by a red ribbon around the longest. There was nothing else in the box, save the tissue that had packed it. They were Roissy bracelets and a collar. 

She felt the weight of each, twining a shorter strap around her wrist. It would just fit, but would be very close. She picked up the longer strap and walked to the mirror in the hallway. Standing before it, she held the leather to her throat, testing the fit. Fastened, it would be snug around her neck. Feeling the tightening in her chest and the warmth between her legs., she slid the key from the strap and put it down on the table. Taking the strap away from her throat, she looked for a keyhole; there was one in the socket end. The collar was clearly meant to be locked. She tested the key. It turned. She snapped the lock home. It clicked audibly. She tested the lock, pulling on the strap, testing for movement. There was none. She turned the key. The collar released. Not quite knowing what she was doing, she scraped her hair up away from her neck and fastened the collar around throat. Looking in the mirror, she could see the change. She looked smaller, somehow softer and more vulnerable. It was heavy around her neck, but neither tight nor restrictive. 

She tested the locks on the bracelets, one at a time. Both worked with the same key as the collar. She could almost hear Anne's disappointment at her lack of trust, but knew that was what the key was for. Anne had left it to reassure her.

She wasn't sure what to do next. Part of her was almost overcome with arousal, part was ashamed. Men had brought her clothes and jewellery before, but almost only when they wanted to see her in it. Anne, she was sure, had another reason. She knew how Nicole would feel in collar and bracelets, Anne's collar and bracelets. She had been bound and blindfolded before, but only with silk scarves; the weight of the leather bonds was much greater. and they were locked on her. without the key, they could not be removed. The loss of control was powerfully erotic. Then the doorbell rang.

Nicole almost panicked. Luckily, she was still wearing her dressing gown, with long sleeves. She turned up the collar around her neck, hoping it would hide the leather, and pulled it tighter around her. She looked through the peephole. It was Anne.

The doorbell rang again. Insistent. She knew. Furious or ashamed, she didn't know which, Nicole flung the door open and almost dragged her friend in, slamming the door quickly. She glared, trying to find words.

Anne merely stood, chin raised. She inhaled significantly, noticing the scent in the air. She didn't need to say anything. She had wondered quite how her friend would take the gifts. The way she clutched the dressing gown around her throat was enough to say. Nicole's anger ebbed away, to be replaced by a new emotion. Fear, shame, embarrassment. She didn't know. Still her friend stood there, impassive. Nicole was beginning to wilt. She knew the meaning of the collar and bracelets, but it was the scent that had the most effect; it was the scent chosen for her, by another, and it suited her so well. It was a token of her submission, just as much as the collar. Anne stepped forwards, and taking the lapels of the dressing gown in each hand , pulled it from Nicole's shoulders, slipping it off her arms and letting it fall where it pooled at her feet. Nicole was mesmerised; she could offer no resistance.

"You are more beautiful than I had ever imagined," murmured Anne as she took her friend's head gently in her hands, pulling them together in a deep, slow kiss. She could feel Nicole melting in her arms. Her right hand dropped to trace the collar and the soft skin of Nicole's throat just above it. Her index finger slipped into the stainless steel loop. She stepped back, her finger still crooked in the ring of the collar.

"Do you surrender?"

Nicole nodded, dumbly. "You must tell me," Anne coaxed, "tell me that you submit."

"I submit." It was as if she heard another speaking. She was falling, slipping into a trance where she could do nothing but obey, feel nothing but the power of her own desire to surrender. The heat in her belly was insistent, the knot in her chest tightening.

"You will make an excellent little slave, my pet."

Anne released Nicole's collar. She brushed past her, walking into the living room of Nicole's flat. Crestfallen, Nicole reached down for the gown, but an unseen voice called her, "No, leave it there. Come through here, please." The voice was insistent, still Anne's but commanding, definite. She walked through the door . Her friend sat back on the sofa, legs crossed, eyes intently studying her naked body intently.

"Aren't you going to offer me a cup of tea? I've had a busy day, and I fear that it's only just begun."

"Er... Um... Yes, of course."

"You may refer to me as Mistress. I do find it rather melodramatic, but it would simply not do for you to forget your manners. You must learn."

"Er... Yes, Mistress"

Nicole blushed again. This was not what she had expected. Her friend was relaxing, she was fully dressed. Formally and severely in a dark brown shift dress that fell to just above her knees. Matching boots rose to just below the knee. Her hair was, as ever, immaculately and severely drawn back in a French plait. Her make up was subtle, but flawless. Nicole was, by contrast naked save for the collar and bracelets, no make up, her hair a mess. She felt vulnerable, but somehow, it felt right.

"Do I have to remind you that you were making me a cup of tea? In one of those nice china cups you have. And please, make yourself a cup as well. I have some explanations for you." The tone was insistent and clipped.

"Yes, Mistress." She hurried into the kitchen.

Nicole returned with a tray. "Set it down on the floor at my feet, and kneel behind it."

She poured the tea. It felt very strange to be naked, serving another something as simple as a cup of tea. But oddly, and deeply erotic. Having passed Anne her cup, she picked up her own. She sat back, on her heels, and took a sip at the tea. It was still scalding. She coughed, almost dropping the tea. She had not realised how nervous she was until now.

Anne looked down at her. 

"You have chosen to submit to me, and to call me Mistress. But even so, I realise that you are a person, and that you have your own mind. I have no wish to harm you, physically or mentally, and you must know that you will be able to stop anything that we do at any time."

"Yes, Mistress." She hadn't realised how easy it would be to slip, as if into character. It was all so unreal.

Anne talked, Nicole listened, carefully, attentively. Both were acutely aware of Nicoles nakedness and submission, but neither said anything about it. They drank tea, from china cups. It was all very surreal. Nicole's thighs were beginning to ache from the forced posture. She fidgeted.

"You must do better than that, my dearest. I do hope you will not be too disobedient."

Nicole stiffened, resuming the uncomfortable position.

"We must be leaving soon, I will choose your clothes; please show me your wardrobe." Nicole hesitated, "What are you waiting for?" 

Nicole stood, as quickly as she could.

"Your posture is appalling. We must work on that. Stand straight, chin up. Be graceful and elegant."

"Yes, Mistress, please come this way"

It was like a game. Nicole had never quite seen this side of her friend before. She led up the stairs, painfully aware of the view that Anne had of her behind. Trying desperately to walk carefully, to stand tall. There was a note in Anne's voice that demanded obedience. They reached the bedroom door. Nicole felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Kneel, now. Head to my feet, hands behind your head!"

Nicole hesitated

"Now!"

Nicole obeyed. Anne was still trying to find a limit. A each step she had feared that her friend would rebel, would refuse, but there seemed to be nothing she could do that was too much. She reminded herself to be careful. It would be too easy to push things too far.

"You will learn not to hesitate at my command. I had thought to be lenient with you, but realise that I must punish you. You will have to earn your privileges, my little slut. Kiss my boots while I decide the best way to punish you."

Nicole found herself surprisingly eager to obey. The thought of punishment terrified her and aroused her simultaneously. Had she thought about it, she would have considered this obeisance humiliating, but she just felt less and less in control, more and more aroused.

"Stop. Keep your head to the floor."

Nicole saw her friend's boots step to one side and walk past her. Then she heard draws being opened, and cupboards being emptied. 

"There is nothing suitable for you to wear here. We will have to find something more apt for the helpless submissive that you are. For now, you need only wear your coat and shoes when we leave. Follow me." It was a cliché to go out naked under a coat, she knew, but it would do nothing to alleviate Nicole's feelings of vulnerability. Too, she had plenty of suitable clothes at home. Her friend's dress sense had always been conservative, frumpy almost. Something much more feminine was required, nothing brazen, just something to make her more aware of the sexuality of her movements and her posture. Something that would make her feel beautiful, but helpless.

Nicole followed, blushing. Anne had already taken her coat from the hook near the door. Nicole was glad that it was her long red greatcoat. It was cut in a military style, almost Victorian, with a tight jacket and full skirts that fell almost to the floor. She had always thought it emphasised her curves. Pulling it on, she realised for the first time the softness of the silk lining against her skin. Her nipples suddenly felt sensitised. The collar was almost high enough to hide the leather collar she wore locked so securely around her neck. Anne looked at the shoes piled up just inside the door. 

"These shoes will do. You must learn to walk in heels."

The shoes she pointed to were court shoes, close fitting red patent. The heels were only a couple of inches high, possibly three, but still much higher than Nicole would normally wear. She had bought them on an impulse, but never dared wear them. She pulled them on hastily, buckling the thin strap about her ankle..

"Lock the door, and give me your keys. Do not bring your purse or mobile phone. You will need neither this weekend."

They drove, almost in silence, to Anne's house. Nicole was still in something of a state of shock, but it was mingled with a constant arousal that the perfume, the bracelets and collar, but most of all the silk lining of her coat rubbing on her naked nipples was sustaining. Anne was afraid to talk; it was enough of a distraction that she had a near naked, collared submissive sitting at her side. 

Anne's house was a little outside town, it was in a block of stables, once attached to a great house, that had been converted to flats. She stopped the car on the gravel outside the front door. As they walked to the door, Nicole following, she noticed the chill in the air. She cold feel cold air on her thighs where the skirts of the coat parted. Her breath was steaming, and when her friend opened the door, it was a relief to be inside the house. 

Anne turned round, and pushed her friend against the inside of the door, kissing her mouth deeply, insistently. She reached down, unbuttoning the coat. She felt Nicole's body rise to meet her touch as she reaching inside the coat, and parting it with her hands, running them over her breasts and down to her hips. Anne slid the coat down Nicole's arms, just as she had stripped her of the dressing gown. In the same movement, she pulled Nicole's wrists together behind her back, securing them with the a snap catch. She reached across to a hook at the side of the door, where a leather dog lead hung. Nicole struggled against the bonds, weakly, half-heartedly. Anne just continued to kiss her lips and caress her breasts, now helplessly exposed. Nicole whimpered and groaned in pleasure. Then it stopped as Anne snapped the leash to the ring on her collar . 

Anne stood back, holding one end of the leash. She, too, was flushed, breathing fast. She tugged the lead. 

"Come with me. There are some matters to attend to." She turned and walked down the hallway, dragging her naked and bound friend behind her.

They entered the a small dark room. The only window was high on the wall, small and barred. The floor was of flagstones. 

"These was once the stalls, you know. The Heritage people made the developers keep the historic features when it was converted, so this is supposed to be a utility room, but I find a different utility for it." Anne laughed and had Nicole kneel on the cold flagstones, facing the wall, in front of two small steel hasp loops, the first firmly attached to the floor, the second a couple of feet up the wall. She threaded the leash through the first loop, pulling it tight and drawing Nicole's head down to the floor before tying it off to the second, now well above her head. Anne was bound helplessly, her rear end offered up. The position stretched her uncomfortably.

"I said that I would have to punish you for your lapses. I will have to fetch the instruments of your discipline. Please don't go anywhere."

Nicole smiled a hollow smile to herself. She could imagine the effect of her exposed rear end on her friend. She had never seen Anne so possessed with lust. She just wasn't sure about the punishment, and there was no way that she'd be able to see anything. he suddenly became aware that she was still wearing her shoes. Somehow the realisation only made her feel more exposed. She did not know how long she waited. Not long, seconds, minutes, though they felt longer.

The sound of Anne's heels on the stone floor announced her arrival.

"Do you know why I am punishing you?"

"No, Mistress." She simply couldn't remember. So much had happened, it was all so confusing.

She felt something cold, soft, possibly leather, brushing her behind.

"You were slow to obey before, when I told you to kneel."

"Oh... Yes, Mistress." It was coming back. The soft feeling, like strands of string, moved up her back.

"In future, you will obey me." It was a statement, not a question. 

"Yes..." She had not had time to add 'Mistress when' the flogger was brought down on her behind. The pain was mild, stinging rather than searing, but the shock was greater.




Beginnings



"You will count each stroke, my little one. I will stop at twelve, but if you lose count, we shall start again at one."

Nicole did not know if that had been one. Guessing, "One, Mistress."

"That's better."

A second, on her right buttock. "Two!"

A pause. the third was harder than the first and drew a sharp intake of breath "Three."

Anne smiled to herself. This was very enjoyable. She stroked the straining and reddened rear that was offered up to her. Nicole started at the touch on newly sensitised skin. Pleasure and pain. The difference between the two was so simple, but so fine.

The next five came in quick succession. Then a long pause. Hands, soft and cool on hot skin. Nicole felt herself lifting her bottom to her assailant. She could not help it, it wasn't a conscious movement. Then she felt damp, cold, against the puckered skin of her rear entrance and she was penetrated, slowly, deliberately. The intruder was cold, and tapered, widening and suddenly narrowing, seating itself firmly and deeply inside her as her opening closed around it, drawing it deeply inside her. She was breathing hard now, moaning and whimpering incoherently. She felt violated, but still more and more aroused.

Anne had been watching for the response. It was a small plug, the thinnest and shortest she had, but training her slave would be enjoyable. Now for the final four strokes. Three quickly to the behind, the last a cruel blow up, between the legs. Anne deliberately held back, using only a little of the force she could, but even so the final count of "Twelve!" came out as a half-gasp.

"You may thank me now." The voice was still cold, insistent. Nicole almost expected mockery or jubilation, but the tone was flat and commanding. 

"Thank you, Mistress." The fear returned. 

"Why are you thanking me?"

Nicole felt her mind go suddenly, and terribly blank. Playing along was easy enough when prompted, but she feared to answer. She was sure a wrong answer would earn her more punishment, but did not know what was expected of her. She shook her head, stammering.

Anne realised the bound woman's discomfort. "Thank me for starting to teach you how to behave as my slave." she whispered, almost conspiratorially.

"Thank you.... for t-teaching me... how... to behave as... your... s-slave"

"Hesitant, but very good seeing as you are barely an hour into your bondage."

There was no response from Nicole, merely the sound of her trying to catch her breath. "Are you in need, my pretty?"

She moaned and nodded as far as her bonds would allow. 

"Would you like to cum?"

The nodding was frantic. Anne briefly considered making her beg, but that could come later. It would be too easy to go too far now. She put her finger gently to Nicole's clitoris, parting her swollen lips. Almost at once, she felt her slave tense. She gently tugged on the anal plug with her other hand, pulling it free as Nicole came, bucking and writhing with the release. In her next movement the leash was released and the snap clip pinioning Nicole's hands was removed. She sat next to Nicole, cradling her gently in her arms and stroking her hair. 

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and your submission makes me happier than I can say."

Nicole looked up, wordlessly, and kissed her. She was crying.



Beginnings...



It was difficult to see; the fog was so thick it even muffled sounds. He had his mother's hand in his and she carried a raggedy bundle as if it were the Crown Jewels, so the going was slow, but finally they could hear the waves sloshing against the dock. Following the sounds, they found the ship's boarding area and carefully ascended the ramp. 

The Captain waited silently as Mayhew reached in his cape pocket and handed him a packet of papers. The Captain stared at him as if he were from some as yet undiscovered land, and handed the packet back, waving at a seaman to take them to their quarters.

The quarters were spacious considering it was a small ship; one of Elizabeth's pirate fleet, no doubt. Small and fast moving- not meant for comfort. There was a very small fire lit; enough to take the chill out the air, and the three made themselves as comfortable as they could, speaking in low tones only when necessary.

After placing the baby in a small hammock, purchased for the trip, Callie dug some bread and cheese out of a bag she carried, and Mayhew found a barrel of fresh water. They ate in silence, checked the child to be sure the hammock wouldn't turn, and then Callie and Mayhew settled in the room's bunks and went to sleep. A sleep so sound they never knew when the ship slipped slowly and secretly away from the dock.

Callie dreamed. She was saddened at leaving so much behind. Her twin boys,Angus and Fergus, wild as the Scottish hills, hanged for robbery on the same day. Just for trying to get some food for the family. MacDowell, her good boy, stayed behind with his wife to try and keep their bit of farm alive. He was the one who'd gotten them in this mess, yet she loved him still and prayed daily for his health and well being. 

Mayhew was her baby. At the age of forty she still couldn't say no to him. He was a dark and brooding sort, never telling anyone where he earned the bits he did, yet he had kept them all alive since their father had disappeared. To only be twenty years old himself, he had done well. She dared not ask him how he had done it but wrapped in the lining of his cape were more gold pieces than she knew how to count, and his packet of papers seemed to bring him anything he wanted, including this passage to the New World. She knew better than to ask. In his own sweet time he'd tell her.

And this sweet babe!! She was no more than a month old. Where in the world had she come from? Mayhew didn't have a way with the ladies as did his brothers. He was too solitary a man. And the few women he consorted with could never have produced a child this beautiful. She was a tiny, but strong thing; black, thick curls framing a heart shaped face, and the most beautiful lavender eyes. But even as she smiled, you could see her stormy temperament. Wondering who her mother was was useless. Mayhew would tell or he wouldn't. But she would love her as her own.

Mayhew laid in his bunk turned to the wall. He knew his dear mother had questions and he wanted to answer them. But he had way too much to lose if he told; maybe even his life and the lives of those he loved.

MacDowell had come to him with the plan. Rumors were flying that the Queen had given birth to a second child, but that it had been born dead. MacDowells wife, Elenore, worked in the Queen's chambers; she was privy to many secrets. She had come to MacDowell crying and begging him to take in a babe, a little wee homeless thing, but MacDowell said no. He wanted his own children but not yet. He and Elenore had the farm to work, and help feed his mother and brother; they had enough. Her income from the Queen was badly needed and they couldn't give it up. The answer was no, and final. 

Late that night in bed Elenore whispered to him, telling him the Queen's story. "This might be her baby" she said. "It must be hidden so enemies of Mary and her son James wouldn't rise up in favor of Bothwell's child!" She waited a moment, and then said "The Queen's men would pay her well for her assistance in this matter." MacDowell, shocked, couldn't respond. He lay silent, Elenore beside him crying softly.

In the morning MacDowell said he needed Mayhew in the barn before he went to his own work in the Queen's stable. Mayhew sensed trouble and met him right away. It was dark outside, and misty. He sensed an importance in this meeting and paced til MacDowell arrived.

"Mayhew," said MacDowell, wasting no words. He arrived horseback, and his mount was ready to go and restless. "Gather what you can; you and Mother are going to the New World as quickly as can be arranged. The less questions you ask, the better off we'll all be. Mother already knows and has started her preparations. You will be given gold, and Letters Of Safe Passage, a sizable land grant, and a baby to raise as your own.It's a new start for you to be your own boss and keep you out of trouble, and you'll be doing a favor for the Crown. It will help us all."

Mayhew was speechless. He had dreamed of adventuring to the New World, but never had he thought it could happen! But..but...a baby?? "Who's baby?" 

"Ask no more questions," commanded MacDowell, "But keep your ears open to rumor, and remain silent of all you hear, or you jeopardize us all!" And with that, he wheeled his horse and rode off towards the manor where the Queen was staying.

Mayhew sat on a bench and thought. Here's the chance I've wanted! And gold, and land, and a new start! But how? It had to do with the baby, he was sure. But he trusted MacDowell, and being the sort he was, he accepted what he said. Standing, he said aloud "I have to go talk with Mother."

Callie Carruthers was in the garden cutting flowers and placing them in a large basket. When she looked up and saw Mayhew she asked quietly, "You've spoken to MacDowell?" 

He nodded and asked "Is it all right?" Callie continued cutting in silence for awhile and then straightened and looked Mayhew in the eye. 

"MacDowell has done well for himself, what with he and his wife as servants to the Queen. It's not my place to question. You are all grown men now; I'm just an old woman. If he thinks we should do this, then I think we're going to the New World. But I have told the neighbors we are going to England with the Queen and thats all they need to know. Now come with me. These flowers are for Angus and Fergus, and then we have a lot of work to do."

They traveled up the old cemetery road slowly, both deep in their own thoughts, and Mayhew sat silent as his Mother placed the blossoms on his older brother's graves, listening to her mumble her prayers, and secretly wiping the tears from her eyes. After a few minutes she stood, used her apron to wipe her eyes, and started back down the hill. Mayhew looked at the graves, beautiful now covered in spring flowers, then he turned and followed.

Everyone in the family pitched in. All they knew was Callie was going to accompany Mayhew to the New World; no one knew about the baby. Crates were made to carry tools, bedding, seeds and other household items, others to carry chickens and a cow. When everything was ready, MacDowell arrived with several men from the Queen's stables and late at night loaded the wagons and started towards Glasgow. Callie went with them, making arrangements to meet Mayhew in a tavern near the docks.

When Mayhew arrived at the tavern, there were several men horseback with the Queen's livery in plain view. They loaded several additional crates, and gave Mayhew a large sack. From the sound of it it was easy to tell the contents. A carriage arrived and Mayhew was told to enter. Inside was a gentleman who's face was hidden by a cape and hood, but Mayhew recognized him as one of the the Queens advisor's. He handed Mayhew papers to sign, and in return gave him a thick packet. And then, from the floor of the carriage he lifted a bundle wrapped in rags, and handed it over to Mayhew. No words were exchanged, and Mayhew stepped out of the carriage and boarded the ship. 

The rocking of the waves woke the baby. Mayhew sat up- Callie was already up tending to her, soothing her. He looked out the porthole and could see far out to sea, with a storm coming towards them. He kissed his Mother and giving the babe barely a glance, left to go topside.

The Captain was standing in the bow of the ship. He turned as Mayhew walked up to him, and said it would be a fine day and they should make good time. Following Mayhew's eyes he turned and laughed. "Did you think it would be smooth sailing all the way, sir? That storm will hit us some time tomorrow- you and your Ma and your babe have time to settle in." Mayhew's head jerked up...my babe, he thought. By God- she is my babe. Else who's could she be? 

She needed a name and Mayhew never hesitated. Callie Marie Carruthers... that's who she is, he thought. Callie for his mother, and Marie for hers; Marie being the Frenchified version of Mary. Mayhew smiled at the Captain. "Yes, she's my babe, sir, and a mirror of her mother, God bless her soul!" 

Turning away he didn't see the pity in the Captain's eyes but he heard him mutter "Poor fella, just twenty and already a widower with a newborn." Mayhew smiled and said to himself that's as it should be and that's how it will be.



Beginnings



She arrived at his door five minutes early and contemplated when to ring the bell. She was unaccustomed with being on time for anything, let alone being early. Her heart beat heavy with excitement and the skin on her forearms dully ached. Finally one of her arms reached out and rang the bell.

He opened the door with a genuine expression of pleasure. What was she expecting? A somber intense glare? Maybe not quite that but he looked like a child opening a present, void of anything else except delight. She has never seen that expression on him before.

"Come in." He says. There it is, she thinks, that depth of voice. It sooths her heightened nerves. "Please take off your shirt." The door closes.

Already? She thinks. Her core clenches.

"What a beautiful form you have." His fingers trace along her left breast on the outside of the bra. "Off with this too." He grins and waits.

She worries he thinks her fat without any clothes. Her breasts too weighed down, not perky enough. Unable to resist him though, she overcomes her doubts.

Her flesh responds to the cool air and her nipples pucker. His hand reaches towards them and she sucks in a quick breath. 

"It's alright. The initial sensation might overwhelm but my touch will sooth it. All of you, in time." 

Contact.

Hardened callused skin against her own over-sensitized flesh.

Her mouth opens in a small gasp, it's the only way she can get enough air in. Raggedly she exhales.

"You feel magnificent. I am honored to possess you." His fingers graze her cheek and lightly brush over her lower lip. "Let us begin."



The thick black leather collar is padded on the inside with a fine grain leather in purple. The sound of the buckle being set, metal clinking against metal, effects them both. It is as if she does not know what comes next or what has ever happened before this moment. He can only stare at the contrast between her pale pink skin and the collar she let him claim her with. 

"And now for the chain." The clasp weighs heavily on the back of her neck. She is acutely aware of the cool metal running down the side of her naked kneeling body.

"I have someone to introduce you to. His name is Mr. Bovine." He strokes her hair with great affection, loving the soft strands warmed from her heat. "He will be your caregiver. And you will treat him as your master."

Had she agreed to this? Part of her feels confused and almost betrayed. Yet what did it matter anymore? Her master wanted her to be well taken care of and she thinks it best to view it as a sign of respect.

"Mr. Bovine is going to give you a gift. Show him and me how much it pleases you."

Mr. Bovine had entered the room at his introduction and now stands in front of her. His hands go to his belt, then his zipper. He removes his semi erect penis and then pulls out his balls. 

She looks up at her master with a hint of a smile and a pleading look. He nods. 

She grins. Mr. Bovine has a beautiful uncut dick and she wants to feel it in her mouth. Leaning forward, she licks the tip of Mr. Bovine's penis as he strokes his shaft. His hips rock forward and she takes his head into her eager wet mouth. He continues stroking at the base while she works her tongue under his length, sucking him in and out. 

Her master encourages with pressure on the back of her head. Moaning, she forces herself to gag on his now fully-grown member. Viscous spit drips from the tip when she pulls back. 

Her skin tingles and her neck stretches to receive Mr. Bovine's cock fully in her mouth. She imagines what her master thinks of her tribute. Her nipples and pussy lips ache dully at the thought that she might be pleasing him. Humming with anticipation she squeezes her pussy again and again, rocking forward on her knees.

She takes the wet rod down again to the back of her throat. This time she suctions her lips as the head comes out, making a popping sound. Her master's hand clamps in her hair.

She knows she has pleased him.

"Enough." Mr. Bovine continues to stroke his shaft while she breathes heavily, staring up at her master. "You don't have to do much to persuade me. I think it is time to sate my need for you."

"Mr. Bovine, if you would... please get the room ready."

He moves to stand in front of her then crouches down almost to eye level. Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks are flush with color. He strokes her shoulder, then down the side of her arm. Then his hand splays over her hanging breast, fingers circling around her nipple. Her nipple cries out in delight when he squeezes it and she gasps. He releases her nipple yet continues to rub over it with his thumb. She lowers her lids letting his attentions wash sensation over her.

He kisses her then, his tongue caressing hers. She bites down on it and his guttural response had her pussy throbbing.



In the room a cushioned matt lays before her and she is asked to get on all fours. Assuming the position she spreads her legs and flexes her back. She wants what they offer.

He slaps her ass in appreciation. One of his fingers hits her puffy pussy lips. She watches intently as he licks her juices off his finger.

Please fuck me master, she hopes.

"Thank you for presenting so nicely. What an excellent brood bitch you are."

With a smile in her voice she says, "I'm glad I please you master."

He attaches leather cuffs to her biceps and lower thighs. Bars follow, being hooked between the cuffs, allowing for only minimal movement.

He traces his hands along her inner thighs feeling the dew of her desire. He licks the flesh of her ass cheek and his teeth graze along her rump over to her sides. 

She can't contain the shudder that passes through her.

He whispers to her, "the spreader bars on your legs and your arms are to hobble you. And this strap around your waist is for me to hold on to while I ride you."

As he leans back he sees her pussy visibly clench and he can't help from slapping her ass once more before adjusting the strap. "Your pussy will be filled and sated soon. Be patience."

Two thin chains run down from her collar to attach to the waist strap. One along her spine and the other between her breasts.

Heightened awareness of each item touching her skin floods her senses. She's conscious of being here, in this moment, and giving herself to her master but nothing else seems to exist. There is no thought beyond each moment. She is consumed with lust and fulfillment. 

"Mr. Bovine, please hand me the suctions."

A humming noise begins as he places the cups against her hanging nipples. They immediately grab hold. 

Her ragged sigh sends pulses straight to his cock.

Pulling her nipples in undulating waves, the machine milks her. Nothing comes from them yet. Her master has great plans for large breasts though. He wants to induce lactation and feed on her teats.

She rocks into the sensation of being milked, moaning even louder. Her mind goes completely blank, her body rewarding her with pleasure. She flexes her back deeper, forward and down, pushing her breasts into the pressure. From behind her she hears an oath and grunting. 

He is overcome by her display of abandon. What fate has gifted him this divine treasure of a slut? Her cunt drips even more than what he felt moments earlier. Her passion fuels his own ardor.

She feels a large rough finger rub against her wet slit. It pops into her waiting warmth, pushing deep. 

He plays with her passage, glorying in how freely her juices flow and the way she pushes back into his hand. He travels down to her sensitive nub and his butterfly caresses have her body quaking in response. 

She feels him settling behind her. And then he's pushing the tip of his cock inside 

her. Pussy lips spread lusciously around his hard cock, glistening and coating him as he penetrates her.

Waves of clenching around his cock making him groan. Her core is almost too hot but the gratification of being enveloped by her moist fresh pushes him further in. Slight sensation at the tip of his cock has him wondering if he is bottoming out inside her. The idea stiffens his cock more and his hips began pounding into her lush ass.

She feels bliss. Her aching core is being filled by her master. His forceful strokes hit his balls against her clit and moist smacking sounds echoed the pace of his thrusts. 

"What a dutiful cunt. So eager and wet for her master."

His hands grab hold of the belt and it digs into her sides. 

"I can feel your pussy clenching down on my cock you hot bitch in heat." One hand comes down hard on her ass to leave a red mark in its wake. "You want my cum inside you?"

Dry as her throat is she manages to get out, "yes, master. I want to feel your cock quake inside my pussy. Feel your cum dripping out of me."

His thrusts grow faster and stronger. He grabs her hair hard, arching her back into him, the angle allowing his cock deeper. 

She can feel herself beginning to fall off some precipice. The feeling of her master's cock so far inside of her while her nipples are relentlessly tortured by the milking machine unravels her. Her vocalizations grow louder and more urgent. 

"Yes, master! Please, master! I love your big hard cock fucking me!"

He laughs like an evil jester, "Cum for me cunt. Let me feel your pussy spasm around my cock."

She obeys.

His insistent strokes into her pulsing pussy keeps her on a plateau and quickly another orgasm takes her. The sensation of rippling pressure around his cock engulfs him. He cums hard into her eager flesh. Riding out both of their pleasure, he continues to stroke. 

The gentle rocking of his cock inside her has his cum dripping out of her hole, over her folds, and down her leg. She turns to look at her master and said, "thank you." 

"You are quite welcome... but you still have more to thank me for."

Unable to fully comprehend his meaning and still enjoying the after shocks she rocks back into him. 

"Ah yes. I can tell you like penetration the best. My brood bitch needs another cock while her milking continues." He motions for Mr. Bovine to come over to him.

"Mr. Bovine, my bitch needs another hard cock inside her if you don't mind." He pulls out and away from her cunt, moving around to kneel in front of her.

She feels Mr. Bovine's cock head breach her pussy lips as her master directs her mouth to his soaked soft cock. She is a brood bitch now. She will service her master and anyone else he asks her to. Her cunt will weep at the chance to be penetrated. And soon she will be producing milk for her master too. Her nipples wonderfully respond to her thoughts by sending pleasure straight to her core. 

"It would be my pleasure Sir." Mr. Bovine says already thrusting inside her pussy. The cum still leaking out of her each time he pushes in.

Her master caresses the sides of her face, holding her hair back as she cleans off their juices from his cock. She can't resist pushing back into Mr. Bovine and she can tell both men enjoy seeing her do it. Mr. Bovine reciprocates with more vigor and her master coos to her saying, "yes, my good bitch. Push back on it. Feel that cock move inside your exquisite cunt."

She loves pleasing him. The pleasure of being fucked from behind while her master's soft cock rests in her mouth, listening to his enjoyment, sends her into another climax. As Mr. Bovine rides it out, continuing to stroke inside her, her breasts begin to tingle. The suction continues to stretch her nipples mercilessly.

"Did she cum around your cock Mr. Bovine?" He guesses from her writhing body and the firmer pressure around his cock in her mouth. Her noises too he notices had become more urgent and primal.

"The sensation is amazing sir. I almost popped off inside of her just then." Mr. Bovine has slowed down his movements and rests fully penetrating her for a few seconds. "I can still feel her pussy pulsing sir."

He chuckles knowing just the feeling, "I'd prefer, Mr. Bovine, if you'd trade places with me before you ejaculate. I want to be inside her cunt again and I'd love to watch her swallow your load." As he speaks to Mr. Bovine he takes her chin into his palm and forces her head up so he can look at her.

She knows what he has asked of her. They both know he doesn't have to demand anything, she has heard his preference and will strive to please him. Seeing the way he looked at her as he said the words acts like a drug. She gives him freely what she would never to anyone else. He is the only worthy one. 

Again she feels her master settle behind her. His hands trace around her ass and thighs. The cum that has dripped out of her pussy rubs in like lotion. She can hear him inhaling deeply and knows he is taking in her scent.

Startling, she strains in her bonds. His tongue is licking her folds. 

"How can you be so wet that your ass is smeared in your own juices? I have to taste that too." And his tongue licks up her engorged slit to her puckered asshole. He flicks over it lightly then circles round and round, imagining breaching it with his cock greased from only the copious fluids of her pussy. More than enough, he thinks, to gain entry safely.

Her thoughts drift with the sensations of her master glorifying in her response. And her pussy still craves appeasement and more penetration, even after three orgasms, his administrations keep her body on edge. 

"Master, I'm begging you to put your cock in my waiting, hungry, dripping pussy."

Slam!

"Ugh." His renewed cock fills her to the brim. And the feeling of touching something at his tip is there again. Amazing to feel completely sheathed within her he thinks.

His thrusts quicken.

She knows how sore her nipples will be later but the combination of pleasure and pain drives her wild. The acute discomfort in her nipples acts as grounding to the heaven of his hard shaft moving within her. She feels used and objectified. She is restrained on all fours, hobbled to only inches of movement, being bred and milked like an animal in heat. And she loves it. She wonders if her body will ever be sated when her master is near. And then the slap of callused flesh on her ass opens her eyes to the glistening cock right in front of her. 

"Mr. Bovine needs release. Let's help him, shall we?" His voice is frayed, strained a little, she thinks. 

He is trying to hold on. All he wants to do is jerk his seed deep within her warm wet walls again. But first, he will see her take it in her mouth from Mr. Bovine.

Her lush plump lips surround Mr. Bovine's shaft. She eagerly takes him deep as his hips thrust towards her face. 

"I'm already so close sir, do you want me to cum down her throat?"

Her master is caught up in the visual. He feels her soft wet folds clamping down as he pushes into them. Her head bobs back and forth partly from his thrusts and those of Mr. Bovine. She's strapped down, restrained with his leather, a victim to his desire, yet it is he who is quickly succumbing to her. He leans forward, still pumping into her, grabs her hair in his fist and whispers, "take his cum. Swallow it while I watch and ride you."

In a louder voice to Mr. Bovine, "Now."

With little time wasted Mr. Bovine erupts into her waiting mouth. She's gagging slightly from all that's happening to her. The deluge of liquid slides down her throat except for a few strands that leak out the side. She swallows and gasps, then licks her lips. Mr. Bovine shoves his semi erect penis past her lips for one last indulgence. She takes him in gladly, licking the drop off his tip.

All around her, he overpowers her, still mounting her from behind. Long powerful strokes threaten to unravel her. An arm from either side moves underneath her, grabbing her breasts. The suction cups frustrate his attempts.

"Mr. Bovine, the machine!"

A minor reprieve for her nipples as the suction abates before his hands clamp down. 

"Cum for your master" he franticly pleads into her ear. His head is up by her shoulders and his mouth ravages her sensitive skin. Teeth clamp down and she's lost. Her hips roll back into his cock and she cries out.

"That's right bitch, milk my cock." He bites down harder, sure to leave a mark.

"Fuck me master, yes." She keeps rolling her hips and pushing back into his. "I want your seed deep inside me. Use me for your pleasure." 

His thighs tighten and his back arcs, he's holding on to her breasts with a steel grip. And then he's groaning in release.

She can feel his cock twitch in her abused pussy. The base flexes at her lips. He licks and nibbles her ear and she clenches around him.



Beginnings



For a long time I found myself getting up early, sometimes when it was still dark outside, still cold, I rarely bothered to dress, I woke and pulled the covers off my bed and walked naked first up to the bathroom, to sit and piss, to splash some water on my face, then to my little office. I opened the curtains and looked at the day. I loved it when it was still dark, when I could see the sun slowly begin to dilute the night to reveal a clear bright wintery day. The wood felt cool and rough under my bare feet, the chair was hard and colder under my bare skin, when I powered up the computer the screen lit up my nude body. 

After a while I'd make coffee, and work for a few hours, enjoying, in all senses, the free time, when I was in but not quite of the world, separated by the walls and windows, and my absent clothing. I savoured the quick walk to the kitchen, for water, for some fruit, the air fresh and still, tightening my exposed skin, pulling the tissue of my nipples together, gently, so gently flowing across the exposed contours of my sex. I remained nude, in a familiar state of near erotic feeling until mid-morning, until after I'd begun to see people walking outside, cars starting and pulling away, children being taken to school, the day catching me up. I stood, aware I was near the window, aware of the building opposite offering multiple opportunities to look into mine, I stood and stretched, and felt the wish to be seen, but not, for the sight of me naked in my little room to be caught by someone opposite, without the idea that I engineered this. 

And then I had my bath. Which was far from a regular thing. I normally showered, quickly, and dressed, finally, usually, and joined the world. That day I bathed. I walked up to the top floor, turned on the taps, let the tub fill up. I could see myself in the mirror, my still nude body, the pale lines of my shoulders, legs, waist, belly, legs, the thick dark flash of my pubic hair, the swell of my breasts and demanding peaks of my nipples. I turn, and turn, and look at my soft smooth ass, and take the visual hint from my vulval mound. I look up out of the two skylights squared into the roof of my bathroom, clear glass letting me watch the blue sky and passing clouds above. Natural light is enough, the room is open, clean, white tile floor, a large if slightly old fashioned bath, free standing, towards the far side away from the door, the angle allows for another clear glass window to run lengthways alongside the bath, with nothing and nobody opposite to be able to look in. I let it run, and pad down two flights back to my office, to one of the desk drawers, to matches and a three-quarter full packet of cigarettes. Just one, that will be nice, I hadn't for a couple of days.

I walk up to the bathroom, to see a lazy tapering column of evaporating moisture rising from the bath, issuing from the surface of the water and being drawn into a thinner wafting ribbon of steam. It is full enough to turn off the taps, and step in. It is too hot, as usual, but not unbearably so. I sit and immerse myself, stretch out my legs, push them apart, let the water grip and heat my tender sex. My hands are dry enough to reach and shake a cigarette loose of the pack, pick it out with my lips, strike a match and light up. I pull a deep and satisfying cloud of tobacco smoke inside myself. I am blowing it slowly back out, towards the ceiling, when I hear my front door being opened. 

I'm not expecting Philip, he hadn't told me he was coming over, but it's not an unpleasant surprise. I am reasonably safe in assuming it is him, no-one else has a key. I stay in the bath, the door half open, my breasts above the water line, my hand outside, letting a darker, bluer, twisting plait of smoke add to the wet and steamy air. I hear him, someone walking up the stairs, the office door, the bedroom door opening, up again. He'll look, he will think to try up here. He does. I look as the bathroom door is pushed open. Phil stands within the white painted frame and looks over to me. He smiles. Nearly smiles. I smile back. It's good to see him, it's only been a few nights, but it's good to see him. 

"Nice bath?"

"Mmm, very."

"And that? Enjoying that?"

He disapproves, I know he does.

"Indeed." I take in another satisfying lungful. "Mmm." And blow out, my lips pursed to create a long funnel of smoke. "Mmm."

"First of the day?"

"First of the week."

"Hmm."

I look at him again. I like to bathe alone, really, it's not usually a place I want conversation, or anything else, the thought occurs though, might his company be nice this morning? He knows this, I can sense he is about to leave me to it, to make us some breakfast, or wait until I am dry, and wrapped in a dressing gown, before taking it off, looking at me naked, pushing me onto the bed.

"Why don't you join me?"

"Um, really?"

"Mmm. Come in."

And we look more directly at each other. It's okay, I'm not just being polite, come on, come in.

I sit up a little, smoking, the nicotine fuzzing my head slightly, and watch Philip start to undress. He closes the seat of the toilet and sits on it to unlace his shoes, and pull off his socks. Then stands, I am glad he stands. He unbuttons his shirt and pulls it out from his trousers, I look as he shrugs his broad strong looking shoulders free of the white cotton, then stands topless, I look at his slim waist, his flat hairy belly, his tight chest. I realise there is moisture coming from within me. The erotic tingling I have been feeling all morning is rising to a simmer. Philip starts to unbuckle his belt, unbutton, unzip, he pushes his trouser along his legs, and steps out of them. I look at the suddenly exposed sight of him standing in his underwear. I register but don't process the shape of his penis, still held and hidden by the also white material of his boxer shorts, I can make out the length of him, the long solid stem pushing, straining out. I throb, my arousal takes several rapid leaps to a new plateau of excitement. He is aroused. Philip is already swelling with anticipation. 

He faces me, letting me look, savouring this moment, he gazes at my nude rippling body, I look. Philip bends and pulls his underwear off his legs, away from his crotch, I see his penis being bent low, gripped by the elastic waistband, I watch him having to pull his shorts away from his body to allow his engorged cock to spring free. My arousal nearly jumps to the level of orgasm as I watch Philip strip, already aroused himself, his penis already stiff, I watch him push down his boxer shorts and stand nude in front of me, his cock bouncing out, away from his body, sticking out at the tell-tale angle away from his legs, straight, solid, I watch it pulse upwards, away from his tight round scrotum, the dark hairy taut pouch straining against his full oval testicles, I look at him suddenly nude, standing still or me to look at him, at his penis as it continues to rise up, horizontal, up, vertical, thick, oh god, long and thick and ravishingly hard. My sex trembles and seeps at the blatancy of Philip's own state of arousal, at the thought of his erect penis entering me, pushing inside my damp vagina.

He walks to the bath. He walks, I watch him, his rigid cock swaying stiffly in front of him, taking achingly thrilling circular trips around the perpendicular root of itself. 

I watch, but the sight of Philip releasing his swollen cock has sent me falling back into a swirling chasm of images and moments and memories. I feel myself lost in the feelings of life past, the feeling of life having past. The sweet ache of remembering and nostalgia, for youth, for innocence, for the free and forming erotic pieces of my past battles with the desire for Philip in the immediate and physical present. He steps into the bath, and sits, lays back, our legs cross and touch, I open mine and place my feet against his hips, watching him stare down at the dark swirling weeds of my pubic hair, I stare at his hard pink rail of his erection. I reach for it, I move my feet and feel the wet warmth of Philip's hard penis with my toes, I am gentle, but I stroke, and pull, I ease back his soft foreskin and show myself the lovely last part of him, the smooth dark shiny wet tip of his beautiful long prick. I want him inside me, I want to taste him, to take his thick bulb inside my mouth, to grip him tightly inside my slick slippery cunt. But remember, but I remember. 

How old was I? Too old? Not old enough? One of the last holidays I had taken with my parents, my brother, had he gone with us? Or stopped already? For the first time I had met a boy, part of a family that had been going there for a few of the same years we had, who stayed nearby. We went out to dinner together once or twice, as families, and then we invited them to our villa one evening. Do I remember him? That he was my age, to the year if not the month, taller by a few inches, blonde, brown blonde hair, slim, pretty looking, too young to be handsome, I was sure he'd grow into his face, and not have it stop suiting him, not find it was a beauty that spoiled with the creases and folds of ageing. I wasn't thinking about that though, not then, for the first time I was thinking how attractive he was, and whether he thought I was pretty, whether he was attracted to me. We sat next to each other, and spoke a little, both of us awkward, unsure, but carrying on regardless. Driven by forces stronger than social embarrassment. 

We isolated ourselves from the rest once supper was finished. I think I suggested going for a walk to the beach. Which was near enough for our parents to be okay with it. Did they know? Would they have guessed something was happening between us? Was it? We walked in silence until our feet touched sand, close enough though to hear each other breathing, and to be able to breathe in each of our scents. I could smell the faint spray of sea on him, beach, a swirl of some deodorant, soap, shampoo. And the tang of something else, something more natural, sweat I supposed, something male anyway. We had both taken off our shoes, trainers in both our cases, and were walking across the beach in bare feet. The sand was colder than in the day, softer somehow.

And he moves closer to me, still we haven't kissed, haven't touched, but I feel him against me, and then his arm is around my shoulders, not pulling me at all, just holding. And I return the gesture, willingly, without any feeling that I should, I want to, I want to touch him, to feel his body. I extend my arm and close it around his waist, feeling his back, pressing my fingers into the softer flesh around his side. He feels warm, his fingers grip my arm, I feel him stroke slightly, my bare skin, and my soft cool bare skin sends signals into my brain, down to my crotch. We are touching, his hand is on me, mine is on him. My vagina becomes damp. I walk, we speak softly, about nothing, the night, the sea, the holiday. We walk and walk, past the spot we would normally have stopped and unpacked for a day. I feel my arousal pulse and quiver within me, but I say with innocence, with more childlike desires. "Shall we go for a swim?"

Knowing, I knew, I would normally swim naked, with my family, we would be on this beach nude, so now I would expect to do the same. Only it is with him, someone strange, someone who is not family. As soon as I make the suggestion I know it is different. But I don't retreat, no, I want to swim, with him, I want to see him nude, I want him to see me the same way.

"A swim? Uh, well, I'm not wearing... do you mean skinny dipping?"

"It's a nude beach isn't it, in the day I mean, would it be any different?"

"No, I guess not."

His arm is still around me, we still walk. 

"We don't have to."

"No, no I mean, yeah, let's swim."

We stop and walk to the back of the beach, to the dunes, our shadows dark and sharp in the full clear moonlit night. We step back from each other and I start to take my clothes off, my vest top, my long billowy linen skirt, I look at him undoing his shirt, dropping it from his shoulders, he looks more tanned than in the day, slimmer, taller, his skin is smooth. I reach and un-clip my bra, and let him look at my bare breasts, I realise my small nipples have already risen to hard points. He seems to be hesitating, I want to go slow, but I don't want to stop, I want him to see me naked, to look at my bare body, I bend and remove my white panties and face him. I let him look, still in his trousers, his jeans, I see him, silent again now, staring at my paler body, my naked skin, the dark triangle of pubic hair above the smooth swollen skin of my sex. I want him to be able to see my vulva, the thick damp lips of my pussy, my aching cleft, god, and I know I will let him touch me there, or anywhere, if he wants to, if he asks, still, he does nothing.

"Are you stripping off?"

"Sure. Um, just..."

"Come on then, I really want that swim."

I watch. He unbuttons his jeans and tears open the flies, and pushes them down his legs, he is barely in his tight dark underwear a second, enough to step out of his trousers, and kick them behind him, I glance, I look, at his crotch, I cannot make out much, the material and absence of light colour obscures even the shape of him. But he bends and pulls, I see a long column of pale, unfamiliar body being drawn forward, being stretched, I watch as he forces his pants over this solid looking protrusion. And then he stands up, naked, suddenly naked, all of him, every part of him suddenly visible before me. I look down. His penis is erect already. Oh my god. Moisture invades my vagina as I stare at his aroused organ. We don't move, for some seconds, looking, being looked at. His penis looks huge, I have never been so close to one, not hard, not within touching distance. I want to touch him, I want to reach over and touch his erect penis. I feel faint suddenly, weak kneed with desire. I watch it rise, his exposed cock continues to grow, it stiffens to a thick vertical rod of aroused male sex. My mouth is as dry as my pussy is damp. And yet I hear myself murmur. 

"Right, swim then? Race you."

And I set off, my bare feet racing, my small breasts jiggling up and down. I glance behind and see him catching me, running hard, I want to stop and stare and his long stiff bouncing penis, slapping up against his smooth stomach, lurching down, dancing and leaping in front of his naked body, above the tight pouch of his scrotum. My feet hit water just as his do, we skip over the waves until we're both deep enough to dive, and we dive. And are consumed in dark cool water, held, gripped by it, touched, I feel my naked body stroked and tickled by the sea, as I turn, as I dive under and kick my legs apart, I feel cold liquid flow over my warmer places, I kick and kick, to feel the sensation of water caressing my naked pussy, my tight bare anus. We swim deeper, and float on our backs, I look, he is soft now, his penis is swirling and flopping to and forth over his shiny wet belly, a short, squat barrelly frond on top of his dark tight little scrotal pouch. 

He spins over and swims down, I gaze at his bare arse, at his smooth small buttocks. I kick and swim, and touch myself under the water, knowing he can't see, wishing he could, wanting him to see me threading my fingers through my floating pubic bush, between the soft thick lips of my pussy, into me, oh god, oh fuck, the salt water slows things up, but I push the tip of my forefinger inside my vagina, feeling the heat of myself within, the hot moistness of my tight opening. I want a raft, a floating platform, something to swim to, to climb onto, to sit and spread my legs apart and masturbate for him, with him. 

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"This was, this was a good idea."

"Mmm, pretty lovely isn't it. I wish there was something we could dive off, or something."

"Yeah. Do you they're wondering where we are?"

"Oh, yeah, they probably are."

"Hmm. We're old enough though.

"Yeah. Old enough for what?"

The water is lovely, but I want him to see me, and I want to see him. I want to look at his naked body, his soft little cock, his balls, his beautiful bare arse. 

"I'm getting a little cold. Might go in."

"Yep. Come on."

We swim back, I speed up when we get closer, and stand up before him, knowing he'll look, he'll be staring my back, my naked bum, water falling over me, over my small firm arse, shining pale in the moon light. I turn to be able to see him stand up from the water, to be able to look at his penis again as it is exposed by his standing. His now flat patch of pubic hair, and his soft cock, oh god he looks so lovely, slim, tall, tall enough, smooth hairless skin, and his small little penis bobbling and hopping up and down as he step out of the water. We walk back up the beach, to where we'd left our clothes. With nothing to dry ourselves we stand and let the cold night air do the job. I begin to shiver. I think he notices.

"You can use my shirt, if you like, to dry yourself?"

"No, I couldn't, I'm okay, but cold now yeah."

"Shall I? I mean... come here."

He steps close up to me and wraps his arms around my back, I instinctively do the same to him, I feel my damp breasts touching his chest, our faces are close, I realise I am almost the same height as he is, an inch or two shorter at most. He rubs my back, his hands feel soft, and good. And I remember we are naked, I am hugging a naked guy, I register the touch of his pubic hair against my bare skin, then that mine is pressing against his, that our pubic hair is meshed together, and his penis, oh god, I feel his penis where it is pressed against my stomach, low, god, a boy's bare penis is touching my exposed mons. I let my hands go lower, over his back, rubbing him, stroking him, to the small of his back, can I? Should I? Is this too far? 

I let my hands drop to his naked ass, and stroke him there, quickly, then again, slowly, his arse feel amazing, smooth, cool, moist, firm and strong. I open my hand over his cleft. And as I pull, I feel a sudden hardness pressing into me. Oh fuck. He strokes my back, down, I feel his hands on my own soft naked butt, as I feel him start to stiffen, his penis is growing against me, I respond, I feel myself becoming moist again, from within me, trembling and pulsing with pleasure, anticipation, the thought of what is happening to his body, to his naked cock, against my naked body, the thought of what could happen, it could, could it? I hold his bum with both hands, hearing him breathe, feel his warm breath on my neck, then his lips, soft, barely at all, touching my skin, grazing the smooth cool skin of my shoulder. His penis pushes out some more, oh god, it is getting longer, of course, squashed between us, our pubic hair touching, his penis is growing down, between us, and between my legs, I feel him growing, he feels so fucking hard, god, he feel enormous, and then it touches me, I feel his hardening penis touch my own swollen part, oh fuck, oh god, his cock touches my clitoris. I step back, I don't think why, I don't want to, this sudden jolt of thrilling dangerous pleasure shocks me into a retreat.

I step away from him, away from his arms. Back. And look down. His penis immediately jumps outwards, away, again, from his legs, his body. It is still growing, still lengthening, thickening, god it looks so fucking big. He looks down. Perhaps thinking I am shocked, offended, about to cry rape. Something. Or embarrassed. 

"Sorry, fuck."

I look, I think his penis is dropping lower, is softening, this is no good, no, this is not what I want.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Well, I mean, uh, this, I got a bit carried away I guess."

We are both looking down to his crotch, his penis is less hard, still long, still thicker than when we were swimming, but is hanging down, lower again, just slightly away from his tight dark pouch.




Beginnings



"No, don't be sorry." I look, I stare, up to his face. "I mean, I liked it."

"Liked it?"

"When you got hard, before, I liked looking at you, when you were, you know, and, just then, it was nice, feeling it getting stiff against me."

"Really?"

His penis is reacting, fuck, I look as I speak, as it rises, leaping, throbbing upwards, thicker already, god, longer again.

"Mmm, I liked it, it was nice feeling, knowing you were getting turned on, feeling your cock getting bigger."

"Oh, oh..."

"Do you like me talking about it, you, like this?"

"I think I do yeah."

"I can see, wow, god it is big isn't it?"

He is completely erect again, his penis is upright, sticking out vertically away from his belly, up from his small tight scrotum, I stare at this now, drinking in the sight of him, storing it away, the image of his small crinkled pouch, his testicles pulled inside him, the folds and ripples of his tight sac bulging out underneath the thick root of his rigid prick. 

"Do you think it is?"

"It looks big, I mean, I haven't seen one this close before, only one, in the flesh, on this beach actually, last summer."

"Really?"

"Mmm, I saw this couple, back from the beach, she was, she had, I mean, she was sucking him off."

"Fuck, really?"

"Yeah, she had his penis in her mouth. It was... it turned me on really."

"God, god."

He is looking at my body, my breasts, my dark bush. His penis is challenging me, is beginning to overwhelm me, the sight of his erect cock is starting to make decisions for me. I kid myself of course. It is my arousal. But I am transfixed by the visual proof of his excitement, his blatancy, the hard rearing evidence of his readiness to fuck. 

"I'm, I'm pretty turned on now."

"You are?"

"Yeah, yes, the sight of you I think, looking at you naked, looking at your hard... it's making me... I am... my pussy is fucking soaking."

"Fuck, fucking hell, god"

"Have you touched a girl before?"

"No, not, not there."

"Where?"

"I haven't touched a girl's pussy, her vagina, no."

"Do you want to touch mine?"

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Can I touch yours?"

"Mine?"

"Can I touch your hard cock?"

"Yeah, yes I want you to."

He steps back closer to me, I watch his stiff penis sway rigidly as he moves, I move my feet, I stand with my legs a little further apart. Oh my god, he is going to touch me there, a boy is going to feel my pussy, I am going to touch a boy's hard penis, fuck, for the first time. We are less than a foot apart. I look, his penis is sticking up between us. I reach for it, opening my fingers, I am unsure of the angle, how to do this properly, my thumb towards me, or him? I curl my fingers around the long stem of his penis, still not quite touching, I can feel the heat coming from him, I see him reach, and feel him touching my pubic hair, stroking me through it, and I close my hand around his hard penis. Fuck. 

The thought of what I am doing sends fresh pulses of moisture and arousal bubbling out of me, I feel my own sex swell and throb as I hold his hot thick stiff cock. It feels amazing, like nothing I have ever known or felt, nothing even slightly familiar, it feels so hot, and so fucking hard, my fingers grip it, I hope not too firmly, and I find myself stroking his soft covering skin, holding this velvety layer tight and moving it over the iron hard stem underneath, touching, god, pulling his skin back, I can see the opening hood of his foreskin being stretched back as I do this, and I see, for the first time, his hidden tip. I see the tiny raised lips at the centre of his shielded bulb, god, I feel his fingers going so slow, I am desperate to feel him touching me as I touch him, I want his fingers inside me as I look at his tight little opening, the tiny slit at the end of his erect prick, I pull some more, and watch his foreskin slide backwards, over the smooth swollen tip of his penis, and I see something shiny, clear and fluid, I see a pearl of thick liquid oozing out of his tiny orifice, god, is he coming? Is this cum? Is this semen? Have I made him come already?

"Oh, oh god Juliette, that feels so fucking nice, oh..." 

I don't stop, I pull, I grip his hot stem and push his soft skin back over the length of him, feeling each tiny internal ridge lining the stiff rail of his engorged cock, I push, slow, gentle, unsure how rough I can be, and I watch as his foreskin is retracted, as it stretches and slides fully back over his smooth oval tip. And I can suddenly see all of him, every inch of his erect organ. The sight of his softer, smooth, unprotected glans, his dark thin slit, and the continuing escape of this clear sticky liquid tumbles through my own body. He has to touch me, oh fuck he has to.

"Your penis looks so lovely, I love it, god it feels so hard, does this feel okay?"

"Fuck yes, god."

"Can I touch your balls?"

"Mmm, mmm."

I reach with my other hand and touch him lower, at the root of his penis, feeling a raised, softer line of tissue, lower, and I touch his scrotum, I feel the strange skin covering his testicles, hairy, crinkled up tight, cool, still damp from the sea, I push gently, and cup him there, and find my hand suddenly filled with his oval testes, I draw my fingers closer together, pressing harder through this strange skin onto the solid buried root of his sex, I pull his scrotal skin, kneading him softly, rolling his tender sensitive balls under my fingers, I look at what I am doing, stroking a boy's hard cock, pulling his foreskin back over his shiny wet tip. I push and pull, and hear him groan. His pleasure is sending me wild, my curiosity is fighting my own desire to be touched, for him to touch me. 

I push my feet further apart, his fingers are threading their way through my own still wet pubic hairs, and then he is lower, and I feel his hand opening flat and laying firmly over my vulva. I hear myself gasp, still looking, staring at his seeping tip, my hand, my hand rubbing this boy's stiff penis, and feeling his fingers open me up, push between my thick labia, lower, please, lower, and he does, I feel someone's finger penetrate me, enter my tight hot soaking vagina, and release a flood of hidden moisture.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck you feel so fucking good, god, oh god I am touching you, oh, you're so wet, it feels so fucking wet, hot, god..." 

"Push it harder, oh fuck, please, inside me, oh, touch me, oh fuck, finger me, finger my wet cunt, oh god, let me stroke your big hard cock as you finger my tight little cunt."

My words shock me, and thrill me, hearing them spoken aloud, I feel my sexual themes establishing themselves. I like to hear someone say what they are doing.

He dips his finger inside my vagina, I clench and grip him hard, tight within the slippery moist tube of my pussy. I am still looking at him though, at my hand, his dark seeping rod. Simpler physical desires are buried under the shallow covering of my need to experience more of his beautiful hard organ.

"Would you like me to...?"

"Hmm?"

"What that woman did? I mentioned?"

"What?"

"I mean I want to, I think, I want to taste you, oh god, I want you in my mouth, your penis, fuck, I want to feel your penis in my mouth. Would you like me to suck your cock?"

"Oh fuck, oh god, really, you want to? I'd love it, fuck, yes."

I step back, half a step, wanting him to keep touching me, but wanting him in my mouth more, wanting this knowledge, I want to feel his pleasure, I want to feel him losing control. We separate by a foot or so, we face each other again, still naked, pale, dark flashes of pubic hair, his penis still vertical, still so thick, so long and hard. I stare, I let myself, letting him think I am unsure, persuading myself, I don't need to, I am savouring the sight of him, the anticipation of what I am about to do, all for the first time, he stands with his own pleasure and exquisite nervousness building, pulsing through him, I stare at his bare body, his straining rearing cock, how big is he I wonder? Smaller, from memory, than the man I saw last year on the beach, possibly not big at all, I have no frame of reference, I don't know, but he looks huge, his penis almost reaches up to his navel, seems to sprout from deep within his body like a changing erotic sexual limb. I let my desire overpower my wish to frame this moment any more than I have already. 

I step forward, touching him again, relishing his continuing hardness, the heat emanating from his blood filled penis. I drop to my knees, in front of him, my face is level with the tight soft skin of his scrotal pouch, his cock looks enormous from this angle, this position, long, god, so long, so thick, wider in the middle, his still exposed tip full and thicker than the end of his shaft. I know I will, but I am still savouring my own nervousness, that I am being this filthy, this wanton, stripping off with a boy, swimming naked with him, watching his penis become hard, touching him, now, can I? Will I? Holding him, gripping his rigid stem, raising myself higher, straightening my back, bending his penis lower, gently, so it points out horizontally, I can hear the sea, soft slow waves crumpling onto the beach, and I hear his breathing, his arms are by his side, then I feel him touching my shoulders, stroking me there, encouraging? 

I pull his penis into my mouth. Oh my god. I open my soft moist lips and lower my head, I grip his rigid stem, hold his soft foreskin back, and feel his spongy smooth slippery wet glans slide into me, my lips close around the swollen rim of his tip, my tongue flickers over and around, my vagina aches and throbs with knowledge, with responsive refracted pleasure, I am sucking his cock, his erect penis is in my mouth. It feels so strange, so dirty, it's large in my mouth, thick, just deliciously slippery, warm and full and tight, something foreign, alive, attached to him, part of him inside part of me, someone else's most intimate part, I feel grown up, he is penetrating my mouth with his body, he is entering me, the part I eat and speak and kiss my father, I have opened my mouth and taken his penis inside it. 

I push my moistened lips back and for over his glans and grip the root of his penis with one hand, hold his smooth naked arse with the other, and I feel his cock fill my mouth, I have to stretch my lips as wide as I can to let him slip past them, I can taste something sweet, small drops of hot sweet liquid ooze from his penis onto my tongue, I pull him deeper into me, stretching, opening myself to his penis, I am ravenous for him, god, I think to stop, to open my legs for him, to pull his penis inside my vagina, the thrill of what I am doing is too great to want to stop though, I don't want to stop, I can't stop. I flutter my fingers over his bare skin, his smooth cool ass, holding him there, pulling his cock deeper inside my mouth, I remember to breathe, I have to remember to breathe, through my nose, breathing in the smell of him, the salt water, the deep musky scent of his sex, his pubic hair, my fingers delve, without intent, but between his buttocks, stroking, grazing, running up and down the soft long cleft of his ass. 

He moans again, I feel his hands, his fingers gripping my harder, my shoulders, I am sure I feel his penis pulse in my mouth, filling me more completely, swelling, his cock feels hot, so hard, so thick, I lick and taste him, the sea, his skin, I feel each valley and furrow and raised line running around the length of his shaft, his thick rigid shaft, I pull, too much, I feel his smooth oozing tip touch the back of my throat and I gag, I jerk my head backwards, his penis slips out of my mouth.

"God, sorry, you okay?"

"Mmm, god your fucking cock tastes so good, is it okay? Does it feel nice?"

"Oh god yes, Jesus, your mouth feels amazing, fuck, just fucking incredible."

I am still holding him, I look again, at his now glistening penis, god, I realise his cock is shining wet with my saliva, I find myself aroused by everything, but this objective evidence of having had his penis in my mouth. I drop my head again and feel his still swollen still thick cock slide into my mouth. I use my hand as the end point of how much of him I can take, I lower my lips around and down his stem, and slide them back, I haven't seen this done, I haven't watch films, or seen pictures, I suppose I have read bits and pieces, is this right? Is this good? Am I giving a good blowjob? It doesn't matter, I don't think, it's his first, I assume, certainly mine, the thought of what I am doing is enough, though it is not, at the same time, I realise, fuck, I am enjoying this, god, I can say this with meaning: I like to suck cock, oh my god, I enjoy performing fellatio. I am slowing, prolonging, hold his slippery sweet bulb softly between my lips, barely moving, swirling my tongue over his smooth tip, licking him there, licking around, tightening my tongue and touching his tiny opening, and holding his stem, stroking him there. 

My other hand? Should I do something more with this? Do I want to? I stroke his bare ass again, between his cheeks, along his smooth warm cleft, pulling on him, I draw my fingers harder, pushing harder between the firm cheeks of his ass, then along the tender humid seam of his bum, and before quite deciding to I realise my finger is touching something else, something warmer, soft, smooth, tight, just slightly raised, I stroke it, him, I know, I realise, I am touching his anus, oh god, I have a guy's erect penis in my mouth and I am fingering his tight young asshole, I push, I feel shameless, greedily filthy, I push harder against the resisting coil of his tight sphincter, his fingers grip me harder still, is he moaning, is he saying something? 

My own pleasure connects to the pleasure I am giving him, his delirium is causing me to feel surges of arousal, I want to slow, and savour, and feel his thick cock in my mouth for as long as possible, my lips slide, my tongue curls around his tender rim, I stroke my finger over the tight wrinkle between his buttocks, fuck, I push my finger harder against his asshole, then soft, then harder again, and I enter him, I feel something like an orgasm flutter within me as I slip my finger inside him, I feel the muscular wall of his anus close around my probing digit, I push and feel the hot flesh of his rectum, I am throbbing and alive with sensational pleasure, my pussy is aching, I feel his penis pulse, and swell, he hardens more, I am sure he is saying something, and suddenly, oh god, god, my mouth is filled with hot hot liquid, I feel his penis jump infinitesimally in my mouth and spurts of salty sweet fluid splash onto my tongue, I finger his tight little asshole, oh my god, he is coming, I have made him come, he is ejaculating into my mouth, I stroke the pumping root of his hard cock and encourage him to empty his full young balls inside me, I feel several quick hard jets of hot cum pulse and spasm out of his penis, thinner than I thought, spraying out from his smooth tip, his tight little slit, one after another, rapid heart-beat spouts of semen pouring into my mouth. I swallow, with greed, with depraved appetites. 

I slide my finger out of his ass, slide my mouth over his penis. I lick my lips and stare at his spent cock, wet from my mouth, from his own cum. I sit back, down, leaning on the sand, on my elbows. I look up at him, letting him see I've drunk his hot young spunk, letting him look at me, my still naked body. 

"Fuck, that was, that was just... fuck..."

His cock is starting to drop, his tip glistening, moist, a final blob of creamy pale liquid seeping from his opening. 

"You look so fucking good, do you want me to...?"

"No, I'll save it, for later, I think. We should get back."

"Yeah, get dressed."

"Yeah, come on."

We turn and retrieve out clothes, start to pick them up and put them on. I stand and look at my own naked body, at his. No. Not yet, no. 

"We could, I mean, shall we walk back like this? Nude? As far as we can?"



Beginnings



Chapter One - Beginnings

Deanna and Drew were laughing as they pulled into the driveway late.

Especially late for them, as Drew worked the night shift, and only had 8 nights per month off, most of them weeknights where Deanna couldn't enjoy them, as she was an elementary school teacher under too much stress from a classroom with 32 wild 3rd graders and all the drama that comes with that.

These nights together were so important to her. Yes, she'd had WAY too much to drink. 

Drew had been eyeing her new blouse with that ever so intriguing glimpse of the cleavage between her ample 34C breasts, and she'd been getting excited about getting home since dinner right after they'd left.

Drew opened the car door, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. He gave her an abrupt, passionate little kiss, before closing the door behind her and his hand on her hip all the way to the front door of their little bungalow. 

Once they were in the door, she went straight for the bathroom and her "surprise" she was saving for him.

Inside the bathroom, she quickly, and rather drunkenly, ambled out of her clothes. Her freshly shaven legs and smooth pussy felt especially silky to the touch as she took a moment to touch as she watched herself in the big mirror.

From under the sink in a special bag she'd hidden, she removed the surprise -- a sexy matching tie dyed and sequined thong and semi-sheer midriff t-shirt in purples and pinks and blues. She knew Drew would love it.

It especially suited her rounded hips and breasts, and she knew they would set him on fire. He loved seeing her in thongs, anyway, but the way this top hugged her full breasts and showed off the curve of her waist, hips, and her ever-so-tiny soft tummy made her confident this would be a new favorite of his. She knew his eyes always went wide for that and it made him even more excited than usual.

As Drew brought a Drambuie on the rocks from the liquor cabinet into the hallway and passed the bathroom, he didn't look close enough to see her standing behind him in the deep shadow of the bathroom door closed behind her. He was distracted stealing an little sip of her favorite drink.

So, when she got to the doorway of the bedroom, and softly cleared her throat, he turned, and as expected, his eyes opened wide and jaw dropped as he "took in the view".

"Oh my God, Baby...you look SOOO damn hot!" He moved in for a deep kiss, which she met enthusiastically. Hands ranged across his body as his free hand caressed her ass, hips, and the side of her breast.

She took the drink from him, draining the glass in one long pull, and setting it aside on a nearby dresser just inside the bedroom door, and then things started getting passionate before they'd even managed to get through the door of the bedroom.

The house was still dark, and so she didn't feel concern that the early summer heat had most of the windows wide open in the house that night.

The night air was downright steamy, but trying to avoid running the air conditioning, a couple of fans hummed non-stop.

The Florida room with it's 2 walls full of windows and big ceiling fan was pulling the majority of cooler air on this sticky night, and they could feel that all the way down the hall from their bedroom door. The ceiling fan from the bedroom simply stirred the warm air around a bit.

There was no doubt that it was going to get hot in there, tonight.

Deanna knelt in front of Drew, kissing the crotch of his slacks.

The big bulge beneath straining even before her lips touched it the first time. After negotiating the zipper and a button, she helped herself to it. Her warm, wet and eager mouth worked his hard, thick member deeper and deeper into her mouth.

His cooing had her pussy so wet, her hands were shaking a little as she caressed his big, heavy balls.

Soon, he was out of his clothes, and propped up against the doorframe to the bedroom, as Deanna worked his cock relentlessly in her mouth.

She loved that word...cock.

It was so naughty, so forbidden for a respected and trusted educator who so carefully protected her behavior and image in public, yet so enjoyed the thrill of her sexuality and her newfound love of sexual release.

The freedom of it all.

There was just nothing that relieved her stress and made her feel loved, and centered, and able to tackle day after day of her high pressure job with her signature smile and a twinkle in her bright green eyes.

She stopped to revel in the taste of Drew's precum on her tongue, swirling it on her tongue, making him groan loud.

Wow, she was really feeling that Drambuie.

Maybe she shouldn't have had that last drink, after all. Still, the thick syrupy strong flavor and the taste of his warm precum flowing out of his nice hard cock had her very hot.

And they were safely at home. There was nothing to worry about.

Deanna stopped sucking his dick, and used her hand to keep stroking him as they started moving into the bedroom. She climbed up on the bed, keeping him close-by with her massaging of his dick.

Now they lay together, in a flurry of mad passionate kisses, fumbling to get her out of her thong and top. His hands worked on her soft, ample breasts. His mouth sucking on nipples in turns and massaging her tender flesh, made her pussy tingle.

She asked him to fuck her, but knew he'd insist on eating her pussy first. She hated waiting for his dick when she really wanted it, and having him sucking her clit was so hard to take. It made her crazy.

Sometimes, she'd cum so hard that it felt like she pulled a muscle inside her pussy. She'd nearly asked her Gynecologist about this a few weeks ago, but chickened out.

Oh, his tongue felt so nice. She tried to relax, letting the waves of pleasure hit her, trying to ride them for a few minutes before struggling and starting to beg for a break to breathe.

It was feeling very muggy in the room already. She felt flushed. Getting harder to breathe.

She climaxed a second time, and struggled to move her legs to make him stop. She was gasping for breath.

"Oh God, I can't breathe. I can't breathe in here."

Drew got off the bed and helped her up. Taking Deanna's hand, he led her naked into the hallway, turning toward the Florida room. She was hesitant.

Their crowded little neighborhood didn't give them much privacy, and no matter how late it was, the light from the street lamp between the 2 two story houses behind theirs lit their Florida room pretty brightly.

But it was late and all the windows in the neighborhood were dark, even if a good number were open.

Before she knew it, Drew had led her into the room, and she stood watching him fold down the futon into a bed.

She climbed on first, and he slid behind her, his mouth kissing her pussy up and down as she paused and arched her back on all fours.

The fan was humming lowly, so she allowed herself to let a few whimpers of pleasure escape her lips.

He lapped at her pussy and she lowered her head, allowing her breasts to rest on the futon with her face, with her hips up as he licked at her pussy and ass. She was forgetting herself in the pleasure, moaning softly in the night air.

She stayed here for nearly 10 minutes, barely able to hold still.

The night air felt amazing, and surprisingly made her feel so free, yet so exposed at the same time. She let the licking take her to climax, and her cumming on his tongue had her begging for him to fuck her.

Drew reminded her with a smile on his face to keep it a little quieter with a conscious look out the windows, which told her how loud and excited she must be getting. Her embarrassment quickly melted away as Drew got up and mounted her from behind.

She loved this. This is what her pussy ached for, and he knew exactly what she needed.

She looked down between her legs, the room being bright enough to see his big balls moving toward her pussy as he filled her.

She let out her signature little shriek through pursed lips, and he started fucking her slowly, in nice long deep strokes, occasionally punctuated by a few series of short deep thrusts.

She came suddenly and powerfully, her drunkenness leaving her with less warning than normal, or was it that she was just so much more horny?

He kept doing this, and after she'd cum on his cock a few more times, she told him she needed a breather, and he pulled his cock out, juices glistening on his prick in the reflection from the streetlamp.

They lay on the futon, kissing passionately.

The cool air was just what they needed.

She was so refreshed from the fresh air, her pussy tingling from the orgasms, and the sounds of the night coming in the window that she moved down and started sucking Drew's hard cock, tasting her own cum on his cock.

Their sighs and coos rustled along with the sounds of chirps and swaying leaves in the trees if their yard.

After a dozen minutes of this, Drew was worried he might cum, but wasn't ready to let her drink his cum quite yet.

Even though he was "fixed" and unable to give Deanna the child she always had wanted, still he tried to indulge her as much as possible by cumming inside her. Maybe they'd get a little miracle baby.

Now he had her lay under him and he mounted her wet little pussy, feeding himself in slowly, absorbing her tightness and the intense heat of her sweet sex. He proceeded to thrust away deeply, carefully controlling his breathing.

Setting a rhythm. Fucking her in long, deep thrusts.

God, she was so tight.

His balls moved up against her lips as he pressed his cockhead in as far as he could go, filling her with his throbbing, straining manhood and ground against her cervix.

She softly started begging him to cum in her, telling him how much she wanted his seed inside her. Maybe it was how good she felt.

She felt a wave come out of nowhere from inside her body, and found herself close to cumming again on his hard cock.

Her voice carried in the humid, thick night air, as he pumped away, the rhythm of the ceiling fan whirring above them, as the futon rocked, and each thrust shook her breasts and made her body shake.

The air was growing thick and heavy with anticipation, now.

This took things up a notch for him, and he felt the pressure growing in his heavy, full balls. She leaned up, sucking his nipple as he fucked her a little faster, giving her long, deep thrusts as she lay under him on her back.

Then, with a sudden gasp, he groaned that he was going to cum, and he plunged his hyper swollen member powerfully inside her.

They climaxed together, a rare and wonderful surprise. Her pussy kept clenching him in wave after wave of her powerful orgasm as he thrust in very deep, against her cervix, and heavy spurts of hot, thick seed gushing from his swollen cock deep inside her willing womb.

All capacity for language was gone for them as they descended into simply moaning and gasping as they released powerfully together.

They lay, kissing and caressing each other, panting in the heat of the still night. After 15 or more minutes of lying together caressing and regaining their breath, they slipped up off the futon and made their way toward their bed, both of them drunk, satiated, and now very sleepy.

They stumbled tired and drunk back to their room, bodies covered in cool sweat and mixed cum, leaving the futon down.

At that point, Deanna wasn't sure, but she thought her deep green eyes noticed that the window blinds in the house behind hers were open in a window that wasn't normally open. She was very drunk, though, and hadn't really been looking, but she was pretty tipsy still as the passing thought that they usually were closed.

She didn't see any sign of movement, or shadows in the window frame, and it was hot, so it was probably just left open to circulate air on a very steamy night. She smiled a drunken smile to herself and her pussy continued to tingle a sore little tingle as she walked into the darkness of their bedroom.

Deanna kept smiling with satisfaction as she slipped between the sheets and surprisingly quickly fell asleep. Drew lay beside her, hearing her breathing deep quickly and leaned over to kiss her white forehead as she slept. Then he closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep, himself.

Several normal days passed. After 4 nights off in a row, Drew started back to work for the next string of worknights, where he worked 8 nights in a row before he was home again for the night. After she saw him off, she went downstairs to shut down the computer for the night, having finished readying her clothes for another school day.

As she shut down the computer, she heard the mail slot upstairs in the front door open and snap back shut. She smiled as she thought she might have forgotten some papers for work in her car, and Drew might have come back briefly and slipped them in the mail slot.

As she shut off the lights, she walked in her short nightshirt passed the open front window and saw a big envelope on the floor next to the door. It was unmarked and sealed.

She took the plain, unmarked manilla envelope and walked into the kitchen in the darkness, standing at the counter, back facing the rear sliding glass door that faced the house behind them.

A florescent glow from a small light over the kitchen sink provided decent illumination for her as she opened the envelope and let the contents spill onto the counter.

Inside were two large 8x10 glossies with a folded legal sized piece of paper attached by a paperclip.

She pulled the photographs out of the envelope and as she flipped the paper aside, saw a closeup of herself in the Florida Room from the other night, sucking her own juices from Drew's hard, cum-covered cock.

The other photo showed her bent forward, getting fucked very hard doggie style. Her mouth and eyes were open, her mouth formed into the shape of words of passion, as her face showed she was clearly cumming at the time.

The images were very clear, and there was no hint of how dark the room might have been. 

The accompanying piece of paper had 3 sentences. "These are just a few of the pictures I have of you. Take your telephone to the big blue chair in your Florida room and wait for my call. If you're not interested in talking to me, imagine how interested the local tv station will be interested in a scandal involving the exhibitionism of a trusted local teacher?"



Beginnings



After seven years of marriage we would once have been described as 'Yuppies'. Nice house, good car each, lots of entertaining and expensive holidays abroad - we had it made. With us both concentrating on careers it was more a case of 'no children yet' than a decision not to have any. I was the clever one with a responsible position in a big office and at one time was going to be the main breadwinner but Judith had done exceptionally well at the Estate agents where she worked and some months her salary exceeded my own. It was this factor that raised us to being relatively wealthy rather than just comfortable. She had started at her firm in a simple secretarial capacity but now had a portfolio of properties that were her sole responsibility.

Judith is a lovely girl - figure, face and temperament, what more can I say. We met when she was twenty-one, I was at university, she was at college. Two years courtship and then we were married. We never discussed our previous histories but the fact that I had been going with her for nearly a year before we ended up in bed together, I took as a fair indication of her morale standards. I was not much more experienced myself because in sixth form and university I was too damn busy working to manage any serious gallivanting.

I loved sex. I'm not saying that we did it every night by any means but whenever we did it was tender, loving and meaningful. At times I felt that I would like more but I did not want to pester if Judy was not in the mood and I also had a deep seated belief that if we did it too much then it might cease to be special. I had heard too many stories of couples where sex had just become routine and my attitude was that, if you had not got sex to look forward to, what was there?

The only blot on our lives was the fact that our working hours did not always map on. I worked a strict nine until five but as Judy said, "People who are at work all day need to look at houses in the evening."

I could accept that but my real niggle was Martin, my wife's colleague. I did not like the man, I didn't like his smarmy confidence but most of all I resented the fact that he earned a lot more than me. Far too often he was pipping his horn outside the house during the early evening as a signal for her to run out and climb in beside him. When a house for sale is not yet empty, the occupants can show prospective purchasers around themselves but when the owner has already moved this duty devolves upon the agent. Now some years ago there was a notorious abduction case and since that time, female agents are not allowed to show a prospective client around an empty house for the first time alone. The firm in its wisdom had decreed that this rule should apply to all staff, which is why Judith and Martin covered for each other. The procedure was that the one whose responsibility it was would conduct the tour while the other remained in the car as back-up. I sometimes wondered why she did not pick Martin up in her car but she said that her little two seater was less convenient, especially if the client wanted a lift somewhere.

I do not usually talk to my wife in a disagreeable way but I think that different aggravations were beginning to build up in my mind. There were the monthly visits to her head office that involved staying away overnight and only a short while before the annual sales conferences had deprived me of her company for a whole weekend. More upsetting was our social life where we were constantly partying at the homes of what were really her friends when any plan I had to meet a colleague and his wife always seemed to fall foul of her work commitments. This particular evening it had been arranged that we would attend a barbecue being laid on by one of my fellow managers. "Look love, I have to run over to the Gorton office with some brochures so I'll go immediately after we have eaten," Judith told me. "The whole trip should not take longer than forty minutes, say an hour at the outside, but I'll get dressed for the evening before I go so that we can set off the moment that I get back."

I was not too happy about this but when she dressed in the little figure revealing dress rather her usual working business suit, I took this as a sign of good faith and made no objection except to ask that she would definitely be no longer than an hour. I spent the time assembling the drinks and exotic pastries that we were taking as an offering and was standing waiting in case she returned at the earlier stated time rather than the latest. I was not concerned as the clock crept to the stated hour and even some twenty minutes afterwards - it was after all only par for the course. However, when her absence extended up to the two hour mark, I began to get both worried and annoyed. It took me another quarter of an hour to dig the Gorton office number out of her Filofax and then I reached someone in a hurry to leave for a bus who reluctantly confirmed that Judith had called in but almost two hours ago.

I rang my colleague to say that we couldn't make it and then settled down to wait, dampening my anger with a liberal intake of alcohol. Maybe I should have been more worried but my wife had always been capable of being very bloody minded when it came to something that she did not want to do and I was sure this was just a ploy to avoid my evening. It was half past eleven when I heard her car pull up outside. I did not move and was still sitting in my chair glaring when she walked through the living room door. "Where the hell have you been," I snarled. "It had better be a bloody good excuse this time."

"I've been getting raped," she told me bluntly. "Is that good enough for you?"

Perhaps what she had said did not register straight away but I know that I was instantly sober. Jumping up I ran across the room intending to enclose her protectively in my arms but she evaded my grasp saying, "Just get me a drink love please."

As I filled the requested glass, Judith walked through into the kitchen and seated herself on a hard chair. "I only did what I have done loads of times before," she started as I handed her the gin. "The road back from Gorton goes right past the lane leading to the Crompton farm so I called in to check everything was OK. It's been empty now for over two years so I try to check every three weeks or so. I haven't been for over a month, so as I had plenty of time and it had only just started to get dark, I thought I might as well and save time later in the week."

"What happened?" I almost shouted impatient to hear what had happened to her.

"I parked in the farm yard and then walked round to go in by the front door. There's a long passage and then a big heavy door leading into the kitchen. I pushed it open and there was the usual terrible squeal from one of the hinges. It was immediately obvious that there was somebody in there. There was a big strapping youth about eighteen or nineteen and he was sleeping naked in an unzipped sleeping bag on the floor. From his complexion it looked as if he worked outside, you know the farm lad, yokel type. At the sound of the door he leapt up and cowered back against the wall - he had a knife in his hand but he was still terrified. There was blood on the knife and at first I thought he had already attacked someone but then I saw he had been using it to gut a dead rabbit that was lying on the side of the sink. Trying to calm him I rather stupidly said, 'Don't be afraid, there is only me' - I don't think I could have said anything worse."

"He looked out the window and saw the car with nobody else around. Then he looked back at me. He was breathing heavily but he was already more confident. Standing there in this dress with my legs all on show and my tits almost hanging out I knew that I was in trouble but I didn't know what to do. I think that my plan was to try and keep him talking but I didn't get the chance. Looking at his eyes, I actually saw the idea come into his head - well I would have done if his cock springing up to attention hadn't distracted me. It was at that point that I thought about running but before I could move he told me to shut the door. I kept it open and looked down the passage but he said that he would catch me easily and I knew it was true because I can't run for toffee in these silly sandals. There was no alternative so I shut the door but then he said that I had to take my clothes off. I got really angry for a moment and shouted, 'I will not,' but he just said, 'You will' and the tone of his voice told me that I would do whatever he said. What choice had I got all by myself with no-one knowing where I was? When I was down to bra and pants he made me stop while he lit some candles, then I had to turn round slowly while he enjoyed a good long look. After that I had to remove everything else."

Judith paused to drain her glass. "I knew what was coming next so rather than wait for him to order me I walked forward and lay down on his bed roll - it was pretty dirty but still better than being fucked on that cold hard stone floor. He got on top of me but the moment that it was in it was all over - except that he seemed to have gallons of spunk he needed to get rid of. So that is why I am late - now you know I am going upstairs to have a long, hot bath."

"You can't," I said. "Rape victims aren't meant to have a bath until they have been properly examined. We have got to call the police immediately and have you seen by a doctor as soon as possible." I had been pleased to hear that the assault had been of such short duration but upset about the excess semen - the consolation on that was the certain presence of forensic evidence.

"I am not reporting it to the police."

"You've got to - it's your duty."

"I am not telling the police, partly because I promised not to but mainly because it will involve a lot more aggravation with nothing to gain."

My mind was so keyed to thoughts of revenge that I could not grasp why she seemed to be balancing other considerations. "I don't understand why not."

"It's a no-win situation, that's why not," Judy said bitterly. "I will have do undergo a humiliating examination and for what? The odds are that they won't catch him and if they do he has only to claim that it was consensual because I haven't any bruises to say otherwise. On top of that defence, lawyers always start digging into the victim's sexual history and throw about all kinds of dirt."

"But you haven't got a sexual history," I protested.

"Doesn't matter a damn. Those lawyers can ask a question in such a way that you make yourself look bad no matter what you say."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing. I'm going to forget all about it. I haven't been hurt, as I just said, I'm not even bruised. All that has happened is that I have had a fuck that I didn't particularly want - but I doubt if there has been a single sexually active woman since the beginning of time who hasn't at one time or other had to open her legs to a man when she didn't want it. No love, I'm going to go upstairs, wash it all away and that is the end of it." 

"I agree no police," I said giving ground, " - but you really should get checked by a doctor in case he's given you a sexually transmitted disease."

"No chance of that," she said chuckling. "I would be very surprised if that lad had his dick up anything at all before me, apart from possibly a couple of sheep. He'd got absolutely no idea - if I hadn't put it in for him, we'd probably still be there."

I almost choked. "What do you mean - you put it in for him?"

"It was self preservation Keith. He was kind of squatting between my thighs with a very sharp weapon in one hand and a big blunt weapon in the other. One was waving about dangerously near to my face while he tried to work out how to get the other into me. I believe that if you are facing the inevitable it is always better to get it over with as quickly as possible."

"If it was over so quickly why were you still so late?" I blurted out as soon as the thought struck me.

"I said that he did not last very long at all after it was in but I didn't tell you that was everything," Judith said in a matter of fact voice. "After he had finished squirting he kind of collapsed into a very deep sleep. The trouble was that he was still lying on top of me and I could hardly move. On top of that, even though his dick had gone soft it was so long that part was still in me and that made it harder to squeeze out from under without disturbing him. The knife had slipped out of his hand so I treated that as top priority and managed to push it out of sight under the sink. Then I slowly started trying to escape - it took me well over an hour to extricate myself, expecting him to wake up at any time. Eventually I managed to get free and tip toed to the door. When I was undressing, he had made me throw every item to him as I took it off. He stuffed everything in his rucksack and that was now lying under him where I couldn't get it. I was pretty sure that I had left the car keys in the ignition but was not completely sure and they might have been in the pocket of my dress. I got ready to run, took a deep breath, pulled open the door and of course there was that God almighty squeal. He sat up and sat looking but he did not come after me. I noticed straight away that his cock was big and stiff again. Then he said, 'Come back here'. Instead of running I did what he ordered. I left the door open but just walked across and lay down by him again."

"For God's sake why. He couldn't have caught you from there, not starting from the floor. With the keys already in the car you could have been away."

"That is what I was thinking," my wife agreed, "but then I saw sense. Running naked and barefoot down a pitch black passage then round the farm over cobbles and pebbles and God knows what else, I could easily have badly injured myself, especially as it was a gamble whether the keys were in the car. I thought to myself, 'His cum is still sloshing about inside me so what is so terrible about having his dick in me again. It was certainly not worth risking life and limb trying to avoid it."

"He raped you again?" I asked unhappily.

"Course he did. He'd got the knack this time and I reckon he must have gone on for about twenty minutes - he got lathered in sweat because he still hadn't learned to pace himself. When he finished he rolled to one side instead of just flopping and just lay there looking at me. I was just starting to wonder what comes next when he suddenly got all emotional saying that I was a nice lady and that he was so ashamed of what he has done. He told me that he had never done anything like it before - I knew that was true but I took everything else with a grain of salt. For something to say I asked him about himself - they say you should humour your captors. He told me that his grandparents used to own the farm and that was how he knew about a hidden key. He said that he works on a farm about fifty miles away, that he had gone on the run because the police are after him for burglary and that he had been hiding out for five weeks. After about quarter of an hour I stood up and said, 'Can I have my clothes please, I've got to go now because my husband will be worrying about me.' He got worried again at that and asked what I was going to tell the police. I said, 'Why should I tell the police anything, I enjoyed it.' 

Despite the circumstances, I laughed at that, "And he believed you?"

"Well it wasn't a complete lie."

My heart sank. "Are you saying that you did enjoy it," I asked disbelievingly.

"Don't get uptight, it's quite natural," Judith told me soothingly. "He was young, naive and it meant so much to him - anyway, a woman has very little control over what her body finds pleasurable."

I swallowed hard to suppress a retort and asked instead, "Then he let you go."

"Yes. He was happy that I wouldn't inform the police but still made me promise that I would not tell anybody else. I promised but said I would tell you because you were entitled to know."

"The bastard, I want to see him castrated," I swore. "It should be possible now we know who he is."

"Don't be silly Keith, just forget it - it's not worth getting upset about. It's not as if it was a really heinous crime, it was only a fuck and a fuck never did anybody any harm."

"Two fucks," I muttered under my breath.

She heard. "OK, two fucks if you want to count that first effort, I certainly don't. What has really pissed me off is that I reckon the velour seat in my car got completely ruined driving back here."

Although I consumed more alcohol while my wife was in the bath it did not help the twisted feeling in my gut. I was tormented by the enormity of what had happened but also badly upset that Judith was taking it all so lightly. It seemed incomprehensible that she should be more annoyed by a semen stained car seat than being forcibly fucked by a strange man. In bed Judy went to sleep very quickly but I lay awake for hours and all that time I was pained by a rock hard aching prick. In the end I tossed myself off purely for relief but I have to confess that the image conjured in mind was that of the rapist doing it to her. 

Next morning Judith pooh poohed my suggestion that she should stay at home all day to recuperate. I had never felt less like going to work but I could hardly take the day off if she was going to her office. All morning I found it difficult to concentrate and at lunchtime I skipped the canteen and went to sit in my car. Without having consciously planned to do so I found myself on the Gorton road and when the lane leading to Crompton farm appeared, I turned down it. Showing caution, I parked some distance from the farm and had walked some fifty yards in that direction when common sense prompted me to go back to retrieve the car jack handle from the boot. I tried the front door of the farm house and was not really surprised to find it locked. In the outside hope of finding the hidden key, I spent a couple of minutes looking under some of the more obvious looking stones but having drawn a blank walked round to the farm yard. Peering through the dirty kitchen window I noticed the candles that Judith had mentioned together with refuse type signs of recent occupation. Apart from that the room was empty.

I stood gazing in for a long time. It is hard to understand why viewing the place where it had happened exerted such a fascination on me but all the time that I gazed into that squalid room the rate of my heart beat verged on palpitation. When I finally turned away, I found it even harder to explain why my penis should be so painfully stiff. That embarrassment was quickly overtaken by rage as I cursed the fact that the youth had gone. I felt cheated of the chance to justifiably beat the rapist to a bloody pulp using my improvised weapon but in truth, had I found him still living there, I suspect that fear of that reputed knife would have sent me skulking quickly back to my car. All the same, on the journey back to work I felt better for having visited the scene of the crime.

That night I expected Judy to be a bit subdued but on the contrary she was very cheerful, relating with much intermittent mirth some long amusing incident that had occurred in her office. In bed, the almost permanent erection that I seemed to be afflicted with became even more uncomfortable but there was nothing I could do about it. I had no qualms about making love to my wife 'after him' but felt that it would be unfair to impose myself on her so soon after the rape. Judy must have been far more aware of my condition than I thought for, after I had lain for some minutes surreptitiously trying to soothe myself, she reached out to grasp my shaft and whispered, "You had better bring that here." It may seem perverted to say so but I think that led to the best sex of my life.




Beginnings



Life went on as usual for the ten days or so. The rape was never mentioned but it was never out of my mind for more than a few minutes at a time. In contrast, I got the impression that Judith had put it completely behind her - if anything she seemed even more buoyant than usual, chattering quite happily about inconsequential things as if there were no sign of a cloud over our lives. I definitely felt that something was not right but I could not put my finger on what it was until everything crystallised the night we watched an episode of a detective series on TV. The moment that I realised that the plot centred round rape, I tried to switch channels but Judy insisted that she wanted to watch.

The serial rapist in the program turned out to be a security guard who worked at the top of a large office block. His windows overlooked a housing estate and from that vantage point he was able to choose his victims and find out the exact times that they would be alone. The modus operandi was to gain access to the house by dressing in what appeared to be a police uniform and claiming that he was giving advice about a local prowler. The three married victims were all devastated by the attack, afraid to leave the house and unwilling to let any man near them, even their husbands. One was actually suicidal and pictured recovering in hospital after a failed attempt. All three gave what I thought were very convincing portrayals of the effects of rape.

A young tarty single woman on her way into town for the evening inadvertently gave the taxi driver the idea that there was something there for him, so he stopped his vehicle near some woodland and climbed into the back with her. She slapped his face, he punched her back prompting her to climb out and leg it into the woods. The driver only pursued for a short way before giving up but the young woman kept on running until she tripped up, fell through a mess of brambles and finished up with a broken ankle. Fortuitously (for him), along comes our friendly neighbourhood rapist. Now although he got a large amount of his pleasure from the planning of his other attacks he is not averse to enjoying a free fuck that drops in his lap, so he gives the injured girl exactly what he gave the others. Next day the star detective sends his sidekick along to the hospital to interview the new victim. Now although she had a black eye and a badly scratched face, she is shown sitting up in bed in a very sexy nightie, laughing, joking and even with the young constable. Then when he returned to the office and was asked how she was taking it he said, "Well it's certainly not going to ruin her life." 

Sitting in my chair after the program had finished I saw it all clearly. I would have hated for my wife to be psychologically damaged like those three married women but it seemed unnatural that she should instead have reacted far more like the young tart. Unable to leave the thought alone, I suddenly blurted out, "I can accept that rape is possibly not such a big a deal as I always believed but I'm still surprised that it hasn't affected you more than is has, especially as the man was only your second."

"How do you mean 'only my second?"

I tried to spell it out. "You were a virgin when I met you and now another man has had you so that makes him..."

Before I could finish speaking she started to laugh - the laughter was genuine because tears of mirth began trickling down her face. When she eventually regained control, still sobbing Judith gasped, "Keith, you really are priceless. Whatever gave you the idea that I was a virgin when we met? I would have thought that when we first had sex my hymen must have been conspicuous by its absence - didn't you notice it was missing?"

"Course I noticed - I just assumed that you had lost it naturally," I said, trying to gain back a bit of dignity. "Didn't you tell me that you were once a star gymnast and I know you were once very keen on horse-riding. 

"Don't tell me that you fell for that old chestnut - the myth propagated by generations of guilty girls. Keith my pet, something has to be stuck up there to rupture a hymen, a long finger can do it but it's usually the tool specially designed by God for the purpose."

I had to rapidly readjust all my preconceptions but everything was now making a lot more sense. "So how many sexual partners have you had?" I asked.

"God knows - I don't."

I seemed to shrivel inside and I think the shock must have shown on my face because she said far more sympathetically, "Come on Keith, don't look like that. I wasn't unduly promiscuous, certainly not much more than any other healthy girl. Hell, if I had still been a virgin at twenty-one there would have been something badly wrong with me."

"If you had so much sex before we met, why did you make me wait for nearly a year before I could make love to you?"

"'Make you wait' that's rich, Keith if I hadn't seduced you, I don't think you would have ever got round to it."

"You didn't seduce me," I said petulantly, the details of that first time forever branded on my memory.

"Keith, you were happy just to kiss me and suck my tits. In the end I got the situation right, I got the mood right and then I whispered in your ear, 'You can have me if you want' - in my book that was seduction. I was getting desperate; I don't know how I managed to go almost a full year without having a stiff cock inside me."

My mental picture shattered. I think that it was a desire to strike back that made me ask nastily, "How did you manage?"

"If you want to know the truth, I didn't," she said.

"What?"

I could tell from my wife's face that she wished she had not spoken but she explained, "I used to have a Hungarian boyfriend called Stefan and we actually shacked up for six months - the sex was bloody good but we found it impossible to live together. So we split but continued to fuck occasionally. Then I met you and he got engaged to a girl from his own country. In their culture that meant that there was nothing for him before the marriage so we helped each other with our frustrations. A couple of times a week he used to come round to my flat late and stay until morning."

That rang a bell. "Did he have a big, very old car."

"Yes - it's a classic, he said that it is over thirty-five years old."

It did my self esteem no good to remember the number of times I must have delivered her straight into the arms of the waiting lecher. "Was he the only one?" I asked, trying to salvage some consolation out of the wreckage. 

"Yes."

I had hardly started my sigh of relief when she said, "No wait - I went to a party one night and got pretty blathered. I definitely remember that there was a prick up me at some point - I think it was only one."

"And that's it?"

Judith seemed to be thinking and I assumed she was trying to remember any other lovers but when she spoke it was to say, "I've just told you it wrong - I actually went to that party after you and I had started screwing."

So she had been unfaithful before we had started having sex and she had cheated on me afterwards. The obvious question was what she had got up to since we got married. I asked it. Judith looked at me a long time and then she said slowly, "Keith, I'm not going to volunteer any information but I am not going to lie to you either. You wait there while I make us both a nice strong drink but while I'm away I want you to think very seriously about whether you really want to ask me any questions."

The warning was there. Judy had intimated very plainly that I would hear things that I didn't want to but I was left with compunction to know. Almost before she had sat down I asked, "Have you had sex with Martin?"

"Yes."

"How many times?"

"I've been doing it with him for three years. The first time it happened I was still doing secretarial work but soon after that he made me into his assistant. At the start we used to do it in his office a lot but then we calmed down. Now when he picks me up in the evenings it isn't always to see a client. If we know of an empty house with a bed we go there and sometimes to a motel. Other times it's in the car but then I usually just give him a blow-job - that's why we always use his car, I tried doing it in mine once and almost dislocated my neck."

"I can't believe that you have been having an affair for three whole years - with him of all people," I said unhappily.

"Martin and I have sex but it is hardly an affair. We just do it when the situation is right. At slack times it's sometimes twice a week but during busy periods we've often gone over a month without bothering. We work it so that I always go out roughly the same number of evenings out every week."

"And I suppose that you spent the night with him at all the overnight visits to head office - and the annual sales conference."

"No I didn't fuck Martin at any of those but I was hardly faithful to you. The main feature of those events is the bed hopping that goes on at night." 

"How do you mean?"

"Use your imagination - all the people from the other branches together, off the leash for the night and looking for a bit of excitement. The guys generally stick to girls from the firm but I found that there are always other men in hotels who like a bit on the side. I've never missed yet and two or three times I've taken on more than one."

"Is that the lot?"

"No."

My mind was blank. For a moment I was at a loss to think of any other time when she might have had opportunity but then came a slight suspicion. At the various parties that we attended I did tend to rather lose track of her and at the most recent event I had been puzzled at the time. Meeting Judith returning from the garden in company with a male, she explained that she had been admiring the gazebo and yet I had a memory of her having being shown that recent addition to their garden on a previous occasion. "Does something go on at the parties?" I asked.

"Keith - the parties are nothing but goings on. If you didn't hide yourself away in a corner with Fay every time for your long meaningful discussions you couldn't help but see. I'm always glad to see her there because it gives me license to get up to all kinds of naughties. Everybody is at it except you two. Fay's husband Rudi is once of the worst, a real ram - I've been with him several times. I'm pretty sure that Fay knows the score and I sometimes think she deliberately tries to keep you out of harms way - I know that she has a big soft spot for you." 

"I feel so stupid - I can't understand how I could be so blind."

"Don't blame yourself - I was pretty crafty and I have also been exceedingly lucky. You almost caught me several times but something always turned up at the last moment to save me, like three weeks ago at Bob and Diana's. Bob had hidden some old curtain material at the bottom of the garden for us to lie on and as soon as you were nicely settled with Fay we crept down there. We were going at it hammer and tongs when we heard someone coming and it was you. You've got some nasty habits yourself Keith - whoever heard of urinating in someone's garden instead of using the toilet. So there we were lying there when you wandered right into the rose arbour where we were, faced the far side and started pissing onto the bushes - if you had turned the other way instead we would have had to either call out or get drenched. When you had gone back in Bob said, 'If he's murdered my Mother McCready I'll bloody kill him.' It was really rather funny."

I suddenly desperately wished that I had turned round and seen them. Hoping to prolong the feeling of excitement that her story had caused, I asked, "What other times."

"Usually I felt safe in the garden but not long ago I was in a greenhouse sucking this guy off, I've forgotten who it was. Well you come out and pause just outside the door to light a cigarette. We just froze like statues, me with his cock still down my throat. It was raining so it was obvious that you intended to come in but when the door was part way open somebody called to you and you went back to the house. I could see you so plainly through the glass and I'll never understand why you didn't see me."

I was shocked at the perverse pleasure I was getting from hearing these stories so in reaction I said rather nastily, "You certainly run with a loose morale crowd, no wonder you are not so keen on the parties that I get invited to."

"All groups of people who party a lot are exactly the same. If sex was not driving the parties they would not be nearly so popular."

"There has never been a whiff of that kind of thing at the parties thrown by the people from my office."

"It may interest you know that on different occasions, both Guy Harcourt and Roy Phelps have made pretty determined efforts to get into my knickers," Judith told me smugly. "I could have been very tempted but it was too risky - I think that both are the type who would be likely to brag about it. Apart from that, I got the impression that they had some kind of bet about it."

Guy and Roy controlled sections in my department. Both were married, Guy to a rather sweet attractive girl but Roy's wife tended to the plump side and seemed to spend a lot her time pregnant. It was a certainty that neither were going to get a good appraisal from me next time round. "OK so I'm the only one not at it but you seem to have shagged every male that you have come into contact with. There can't possibly be any more."

"Only a few," she said. "You have forgotten that men buy houses."

"Tell me about them," I said, shaking my head in despair. 

"The first one was just after I got my own account, he was a rich guy in his fifties and he was interested in one of our most expensive properties. I took him round for the second time during the day and he really liked it. At the end he said, I'll sign on the dotted line straight away if you can give a little sweetener. I was offering it to him at full price, I got more commission that way, but there was a nice discount available. So I told him that I would ring the owners to ask if they would lower the price slightly, I would have only pretended to ring, but he said straight away that he was not interested in saving cash. 'I was hoping for something far sweeter than that,' he said. We were standing in the only room that still had a bed in it so it was obvious what he wanted."

"You let him screw you just to sell a house?" Despite all that she had told me it was hard to believe that she had actually prostituted herself.

"There was nothing to think about. Selling the house at full price meant a lot of prestige and a very nice bonus - it paid for that fabulous holiday in Bermuda so you benefited as well. He's actually the only purchaser that I have ever been with more than once. I went to see him again after he had moved in, it was not part of the deal but I had half promised - his wife was due to arrive from abroad the next day. I skipped the sales meeting for that month and spent the night with him instead. He is the oldest man who has ever screwed me by a long way but he had a lovely penis and a lifetime of experience. I think he gave me one of the best fucks of my life."

"Tell me about all the others."

"There were only three. There was one other that I did it with to clinch a sale and I just fancied the other two - there is nothing much else to say." There was a long pause and then Judith said, "That's it - I've told you everything."

Still I did not speak. I was actually disappointed that she had no more salacious details to relate. Logically, I should have been devastated by her catalogue of sexual encounters with other men but I was remarkably unaffected - although that may have been because there had not been time for it to sink in properly. I did not know whether to tell Judith honestly how I felt or whether she might find it strange that I was not at least a little upset. "Say something," she prompted.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Do you hate me?"

"What really hurts," I said, "- is that all this time I thought that you were happy with the sex I gave you. I believed that you liked me making love to you."

"I do, I do Keith, you must never think that I don't," Judy reassured me quickly. "Making love to you is special, you always make it into almost a religious experience. But that is part of the trouble - it's like having a Xmas dinner for every meal. My trouble is that I like a varied diet, a mixture of plain food and spicy food. I like normal English stuff but also pasta and Italian - even beans on toast can be very enjoyable in the right circumstances."

"Or a Chinese," I provided.

"I'm actually rather partial to a bit of Caribbean," she grinned.

"German sausage."

"What exactly are we talking about here?" Judy asked starting to laugh.

I laughed too. My mood had turned surprisingly light hearted - after what I had heard, it was a matter of either reacting that way or going away and killing myself. I think that my change of attitude stemmed from the realisation that my wife's promiscuity was not due to a fault in me. I could change. "Perhaps you can teach me to lighten up in bed."

"I'd love to. You don't know how much I have wanted to but I was having it so good that I was afraid the slightest thing would start you being suspicious. The first thing that you have got to realise is that sex is fun."

The strange thing is that had her confession comprised of telling me only about Martin I would have been terribly distraught but the magnitude of the numbers of men she had been with made it so impersonal that I could hardly mind. In fact I found the whole idea more than a little exciting and could not even work up any righteous indignation about her obnoxious colleague. For as long as I could remember I seemed to have been pretending at life - but this was real. It was at this point that I finally admitting to myself the emotion that had flooded through me while gazing through that farmhouse kitchen window. My wish had been not that the rape had never happened and nor that I might have the rapist helpless before my revenge - my wish had been that I could have been looking through the window while the assault was actually taking place. Judith broke into my reverie by asking, "Now that you know, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know - what do you want to do?" I said turning the question back on her. My mind was in such mess that I hoped for some pointers before committing myself to anything.

"I have been very happy with my life and given a free choice I would like to carry on the same but I haven't got a free choice. Despite all that I have told you, being married to you is very important to me. I don't equate sex with love and I actually love you very much. Our life together is too good to throw away, so if you want I will turn over a new leaf. It won't be easy but I will do it to keep you."

"I'm tempted to tell you to carry on as you have been but I'm not sure that I want you to screw Martin anymore," I told her honestly. 

"Are you saying that I can carry on except for Martin? He's is no problem - I only do it with him now out of habit."

"If it makes you happy and doesn't affect the way you love me - Yes," I told her. "Anyway, stopping now would be a little like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, don't you think.

"You are very understanding - it's one of the reasons that I love you so much."

"I'm just not sure how it will work in future," I said. "The men buying houses and the ones you meet on your nights away are not a problem but it might be awkward you going off with other men at parties with me knowing."

"There is a very simple answer to that - you start playing the game too," she told me with a smile. There are at least three very attractive women who are dying to get you in bed. One in particular has got the hot's for you so badly that I could get jealous about it. You may not believe it Keith but you have a lot more to offer than most of the husbands who think they are such shit hot lovers. With a bit of coaching from me you could soon have all the wives on the party circuit eating out of your hand - if that is all you want them to eat."




Beginnings



"I might," I said but that was not what I wanted to tell her. I think that hearing about my wife's profligacy must have unhinged by brain and given it a very perverted slant. I had not the slightest iota of desire for any other woman but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I desperately wanted to see other men actually fucking Judy.

We left it that. I thoroughly enjoyed being taught new tricks in bed but as the days passed I got more and more tense. There was a dearth of parties, Judith assured me that house purchasers were sticking to strictly cash transactions and the forthcoming sales meeting at head office had been cancelled. I had this craving for her to go with another man with my knowledge but even in the case of Martin, her evenings out had greatly decreased and when she did go she produced house documentation to prove that she was accompanying him on a valid call. In the end I had to say, "Forget what I said about Martin, you can fuck him if you like - in fact I want you to."

From the smile on her face I could tell that, despite her disclaimer about 'habit,' Judy was badly missing her sessions with the senior salesman. "I'll just stop showing you house stuff then should I?" she asked.

"No," I said quickly. "I want to know what nights you are actually working and when you are really screwing him. And when you get home I want you to tell me everything that you have done."

Judith looked at me for a long time after I said that and then she nodded.

In the office, despite my new enlightened outlook, at the start I viewed Guy and Roy with jaundiced eyes. From a seniority point of view I resented their pretension at hoping to pull my wife, foolishly regarding it as a slur on me rather than just a natural desire to shag an attractive woman. But then, very gradually, I got the glimmerings of an idea.



Beginnings



These are just some things that for reasons that will become obvious I can't share with anyone around me, well I can share them with one person but he's the one I've already shared these things with.

I'm now 28, blonde, slim, thought of as attractive and 1.7m tall.

I was a late bloomer, not late physically but mentally and emotionally I didn't really have much of an interest in boys till I left school and went to college. I'd had what I thought was a normal middle class upbringing but on reaching college I quickly discovered it had been more sheltered and perhaps privileged than most. There had been no real expectations on me by my family and I'd been more interested in my horses than boys or for that matter the world outside school and my friends.

College was just the expected route but I had no real ambitions or direction at that point.

Leaving home was a shock in many ways, I was in halls and while it was exciting to be away I missed home, my family and my horses. Through the friends I made there and student life I discovered boys but still had limited experience with them till I met my future husband Craig who was studying engineering at a nearby college. He was the first to really pursue me and I'm still not sure if he became the one because I was in love with him or because he was just so persistent. 

My first experience of sex consisted of the usual (or what I thought was usual) awkward fumbling in the dark of a halls room, problems with a condom and much discomfort before an uncomfortable night squeezed together on a single bed.

I decided on teaching as a career and Craig graduated and entered a job in his field. From that first night on we were a couple and our families came to expect us to get married so we did.

Everything was... normal. There wasn't that much passion there but I had no experience to judge it against. We moved into a home in a small village which was mainly funded by our respective parents and his career continued while I completed college and teacher training.

Which is where this story really starts.

I started work teaching at an infant school with a large class of 5 to 7 year olds and the normal feeling of being slightly out of my depth that accompanies that. The work was hard but my colleagues were nice and I quickly adapted.

At first there wasn't much socializing as I had Craig to go home to but gradually his career took off and he was expected to work for extended periods overseas or sometimes in South London where accommodation was provided for him during the week. I was left at home on my own with an empty house in an area I had no friends or activities outside work. Naturally I started accepting invitations if any of my colleagues had anything going on of an evening and gradually came to accept that arriving to face the kids with a slight hangover was not going to be the end of the world.

I was still the 'good girl and nothing out of the ordinary had happened till the night of Russell's birthday.

Russell was an older teacher who had helped me with many of the initial problems I'd encountered in teaching. He's about 1.9m tall, at that time 42 years old, unmarried, large but not unfit (I used to call him husky) and of Jamaican heritage. He was always calm, nothing seemed to bother him and he always had a ready smile while also exhibiting complete confidence. 

That Friday Craig was away for three weeks in the United Arab Emirates with work and all of us were invited out for Russell's birthday in a local pub. It was a good night, there was a lot of drinking with the weekend ahead, someone had arranged a cake and I spent most of the night in the corner of a table with Russell beside me. People started drifting off about 9 but I had nothing to look forward to at home and so I stayed. By last orders there were just the two of us left from our group and I realsied on visiting the loo that there was no way I was going to be driving home. 

I returned to the table where Russell was and started drunkenly talking about a taxi at which point he insisted that he was fine to drive me home and he'd then take a taxi from there to his house which was in that general direction. It all seemed sensible so he got me one more before last orders and then we set out.

I remember leaning on his as we made our way through the car park, I wasn't staggering but it was chilly, I wasn't completely steady on my feet and he was large and warm. 

In the car with the heater on I felt relaxed, we were driving through dark countryside lanes, the trees were passing with the moonlight filtering through them and I just sat there with a contented smile on my face pleasantly drunk till he pulled off the road on a quiet spot and simple said 'Sarah it's my birthday' I looked at him and he reached across taking my hand and placing it on his groin. I remember I didn't even look down, I just looked at his face, his brown eyes staring at me and me falling into them. I felt him hard through his trousers and didn't move my hand, I wasn't really thinking at all, I was still just comfortable but with a new feeling growing.

He undid the top button on his trousers and pulled the zipper down under my hand, his other still just resting on top of mine and I moved, there didn't seem to be anything else to do but slip my hand under the waistband of his pants and grasp his dick so I did. It was hard, hard and thick and hot to the touch. I was just lightly touching it, up and down when he leaned across and cupping the back of my head kissed me and what a kiss. His lips were softer than I was expecting, his tongue was hard and insistent and his hand massaged the back of my neck as he kissed and I stroked.

We broke apart and he eased down his trousers and pants leaving his dick standing straight up, I looked at it for the first time, only the second one I'd ever held. It was different from Craig's, darker obviously, circumcised and so much thicker. He waited till I looked up again and then just repeated 'Sarah it's my birthday' before gently moving my head forward with his hand and down, down towards his dick and I didn't resist. I wanted to, I saw no reason not to, I wasn't thinking about anything else or even that. I sucked his dick, I tasted it, I sucked it, I licked it, I held it by the base and swirled my tongue around the head of it and I did all that over and over till he came in my mouth.

He sat back and I leaned on his shoulder for a minute till he adjusted his clothes, started the car again and set off. Nothing was said. I felt different, I felt warm and excited, content, wanted, small, everything.

It took us about another 10 minutes to reach my house and again nothing was said. He got out of the car and opened my door for me, I leaned on him and he guided me to the door where he used the keys on the car ring to open it and let me in. I had no real idea of what was going to happen, he just followed me in and directed me straight towards the staircase to the bedrooms as he closed the door behind him. I led and he held my hand so I went straight to our bedroom.

The bed wasn't made, I remember feeling bad because I hadn't made the bed as he took me in his arms and leaned down kissing me again. He was in control, he stripped me standing there before removing his own clothes and taking my shoes and tights off. I lay back on the bed and he was between my legs, I felt tiny in his arms, he surrounded me everywhere and I could feel his hardness pressing against me not even realizing how wet I was till he slipped in forcing my legs apart, further apart then I'd been before, wide open to him and full, full of him.

His hands were on my breasts, his mouth was on my neck and then my legs were spread and up under his arms as he pushed into me fast and erratically till I felt him come inside me. I didn't orgasm but I felt like anything could have made me at that point. Everything was spinning slightly, wobbly and I drifted off to sleep with everything and nothing flashing in my head.

The next morning I woke with an arm draped over him and nestled into his back. I slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of panties to get a drink of water and brush my teeth. I returned to the bedroom and slipped back under the covers resuming the position I'd been in before.

I'll continue with what's happened in the years since then when I have the time.



Beginnings



When I look back at the anthology of my relationship with my wife Lexi, there has been a metamorphosis of sorts. I think every couple in love starts with the same exclusively monogamous, 'till death do you part' scenario. I remember I used to get fits of jealousy if a guy even checked Lexi out. If she flirted, I would go ballistic. How times have changed, as we are now invested in an open life style. I know this is not for everyone, and at times wonder if I would choose this if I could do it all over again. For us, it broke all the moral and social barriers we believed in. This is an account of how it all started with us.

We were married ten years ago, and for the most part, we were a normal couple making our way through life a day at a time. When we first met, our life was crazy and exciting, and we thought it always would be, but we got stuck in the rut of daily living. I think for most people, there is a certain amount of security in developing a routine in your life. Unfortunately for us, that boring list of chores also included our sex life. Love making had lost its spontaneity, and became a scheduled event, kind of like doing the laundry. 

This certainly didn't come about because my wife let herself go, or is undesirable. Far from it. Lexi is a stunning woman by any standard. She has all the right curves in all the right places, and turns heads wherever she goes. There's a lot more to her than a hot bod and pretty face. She is also smart, articulate and formidable as a business woman.

However, like a lot of couples, our lack of creativity and over-familiarity with each other led to reduced passion. Don't get me wrong, always tried to be attentive and she's always has been a wonderful lover. I think it's that 'been there, done that' syndrome that led us into a ho-hum sexual life. Ultimately, this fueled our desire for variety and change. I believe many people become boring by choice, but it can be overcome, if you're willing to push the parameters a bit. In our case, more than a bit. 

We are both professionals that have to meet the public daily, so our appearance is important. Part of our plan is to maintain a healthy life-style of diet and fitness, so we usually meet at the gym four days a week. I normally do heavy lifting, while Lexi does cardio. 

I remember back to about a year and a half ago; I was watching Lexi work out at our local gym. It was fascinating how she captivated the attention of almost all the men within view. Not knowing she was my wife, a guy using the squat machine next to me, randomly pointed out how hot she was. Initially, that kind of made me feel proud, but it also prompted me to take a long look at her. 

She truly is a beauty. That skintight outfit showed off her fit figure, displaying her large, pert breasts, firm, round butt, and strong, shapely legs. As she pumped hard on the stair-climber, the fabric became wet, and clung to her like a second skin. Her prominent nipples poked out the thin fabric of her top noticeably. As I watched, she flirted with the guy next to her. He was so enamored with her, he seemed oblivious to all else. Instead of being jealous, I found it a turn on, and I think that was the first time I ever considered her being with another man.

This became a fantasy that started that day with a casual passing glance, and rooted itself in my brain, like a seed that continued to grow. I began to cultivate this vision of her with different men a bit at a time. It was actually becoming more of a full-blown obsession than just a passing fancy. However, I did manage to keep it to myself for the time being. 

After some time, I started reading forum testimonials of guys that shared their wives, and I discovered that I was not the only one with this predisposition. Many men fantasized about sharing their wives. Looking back, I'm not sure if this predilection was naturally found within me, or if I had cultivated it into a full-blown obsession. I did manage to keep it from Lexi, not letting it interfere with our relationship. 

One night, we were cuddling in bed talking. Lexi was telling me about this guy named Henry, a new employee hired at her firm. She went on to say how all the girls were enamored with him. She described him as a really hot commodity, confident and sexy. It was then I asked, "Do you find him a hot commodity too?"

"Hmmm," she thought. "Sure, I suppose so. Why?" she replied, wiggling her butt against me. 

"Could you see yourself with him?" My erection grew with just asking the question.

"Of course not! I'm a married woman!" She stated abruptly. 

"I know you're the hottest woman in that whole firm. Are you telling me he hasn't flirted, or hit on you?" I asked, pushing my hardness between her cheeks. 

"Of course he has, but he knows I'm married. Why would you even ask?" 

"Are you aware of how men lust after you?" 

"I suppose, but I don't pay much attention to it. What is it you are saying?" 

"Well... have you ever thought what it would be like to be with another guy?"

"Never! I love you, and am faithful to you alone."

"I know that. I know you're faithful, but that did not answer my question. Do you ever fantasize about being with other men?"

"Is that what you want? For me to be with another man, so you can be with another woman?" 

"Hell no! I don't desire another woman other than you. I was just thinking about you with other men - a passing fantasy." 

"What? Are you crazy? How could you imagine me with another man?"

"I dunno. It has been crossing my mind lately. I know you've only been with a couple men in your life, but doesn't it ever cross your mind how it would be like to fuck another man?"

"I can't believe you just said that! I'm your wife. Why would you even think such a thing?" 

"Forget it. It was just a passing thought. Sorry I brought it up."

*******

About two weeks later, we were out to dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, when Lexi said, "I have something I want to tell you."

"What?"

"I was working in the file room today, and Henry asked me to have dinner or lunch with him."

"Who's Henry?" I asked, taking her hands in mine. 

"You remember. The new guy at work. I told you about him." 

"Oh yeah, I remember - the hot guy that was causing wet panties at your firm. Is that why you've been dressing a bit more provocatively for work lately?"

"Well... Maybe. I didn't know you noticed," she grinned. 

"Kinda hard to miss, when you go from high collars to cleavage. So... Do you want to go out with him?" 

"I would never do that to you! I just told you he asked."

"Technically, you wouldn't be doing it to me. You'd be doing it to him." I chuckled. 

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" 

"I am saying it is your choice. Do whatever you desire. I'm okay with it," I said, taking her hand and looking into her eyes, so she'd know I was serious. 

"Including... you know what?"

"Especially you know what." I squeezed her hand. 

"This is crazy. I think your actually serious." She look puzzled and pulled her hand away. 

"I am serious, but I'm just saying it is your choice. I'm not pushing."

"I can't believe we are even discussing this, Alan! This is all so confusing."

--

A few days later, I picked her up at work because her car was in the shop. Lexi was unusually quiet. We drove and listened to the radio. I watched her fidgeting, as if she was uncomfortable. She was in her own world, staring out the side window, as if in a trance, deep in thought. 

To break the silence, I shut off the radio and asked, "Sweetheart, is everything alright? You look troubled."

"Alan, I want to discuss something with you. It's really important," she said nervously, after a pause. 

"Sure, go ahead. What's on your mind?"

"I have something to confess."

"What do you have to confess?" I paused, raising an eyebrow.

"I went to lunch today with Henry. We took his car, because I didn't have mine. It was uncomfortable, as I could sense his attraction to me the whole time. At lunch, he asked several rather intimate questions about us." 

"Questions like what?" The car behind honked because I didn't go on green.

"Things like, if we are happy. He pried about our sex life. Have I considered a lover? I was shocked. I told him it was not appropriate for him to ask those personal things. I told him I wanted to go back to the office. Then... on the way back, he... he kissed me." 

My mouth dropped open and gasped, not quite believing what she shared. Then I said in a raised voice, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. I'm not kidding. Ever since you planted that thought into my mind, it has been nagging at me. You had asked me before if I ever considered being with another man. I truthfully said no, but... since you brought it up, I think about it quite a lot now."

"Damn! This was just some delusion I shared with you, Lexi. I never thought it would actually become a reality. Tell me the truth. Was that all that happened?" 

"Well, not quite... I... I kissed him back, and he... felt my breasts too," Lexi said softly.

"Shit! I can't believe this is happening," I said, pulling off the road before we got into an accident. 

"Forgive me?" she asked, in a barely audible voice.

"Nothing to forgive. It was my idea, if you remember? So I guess I'm as responsible as you are. My question is... do you want to continue this?"

"Would it make you mad if I did?" 

"I can't believe I'm sitting here discussing my wife having sex with some other guy. It's kinda nuts. I'm happy you told me, rather than have an affair. And... if I was mad about it, I wouldn't be sitting here sporting a huge erection." 

"Then... you think I should continue?" 

"I told you before, it is your decision. It appears you've already made your decision, but if you're going through with this, then I guess we need to establish some rules."

"Rules? What rules?" 

"Well, to begin with, this is a shared fantasy between us, so whoever you're with must know that I know. You have to make it clear that you're not seeking a relationship. I want no chance of romantic entanglement, and... I have veto power. If I say no, it's no." 

"That seems fair I guess, since this started as your fantasy," she replied with a smile. 

"Then... any guy you're with must also have a current blood test for STD's. Too risky for us without it." 

"I'm not quite sure how I'd ask something like that. I mean, doesn't that seem a bit... Ummm... Calculated?"

"It might seem like a mood kill, but diseases are rampant and deadly."

"Okay. I'll agree, even though it seems impractical. Anything else?"

"Yeah, one last thing. I don't want any condoms. You're on the pill." 

"Wow! You've given this some thought, haven't you? But why no condoms? You want a blood test, but no condom protection? Why?"

"Because, my dear, part of my fantasy is getting sloppy-seconds," I grinned. 

************

The very next day, Lexi called from work. 

"How are you doing, hun?" Lexi spoke softly.

"Okay I suppose, kinda busy. What's up?"

"Henry just asked me out again."

"Hmmm, What did you say?"

"Well... I told him I wanted to, but had to ask you first. He was stunned that I was telling you. Then I told him all the things we talked about. I told him about the rules. He smiled, and handed me a current card from the health service, showing he was free of STD's. I didn't expect that. I think he's kinda anxious to get into this, if you'll pardon the pun."

"So, when is this happening?" I asked, not believing how fast this was progressing.

"He wants it... uhhh... me... tonight." 

"Damn! What time? I have a partners meeting at five-thirty."

"Sweetie, he said he wants our first time to be just the two of us... and I agreed, but it's up to you. Pleeeeese?"

"And if I said no, would that make a difference?"

"Hun... Henry already made dinner reservations... and booked a room."

"Well, I guess it is not truly up to me, as the room is already booked. So you're really going through with this?"

"Yes! And I'm on my way to the house to change. I'll be gone by the time you get home. We're going to the Hilton Inn Hotel restaurant and lounge. I'll send you texts and updates throughout the evening."

"Well, I guess all that's left is for me to say, have fun. If anything happens, and you need me, I'll be there in ten minutes." 

"I love you. Stay up and wait for me. I promise we'll have fun when I get home." 

**********

This was not exactly going as I had planned. When I first envisioned this fantasy, I pictured seeing his cock slide into her pussy, but now I'm resigned to just waiting at home, like a faithful puppy dog. 

After setting my briefcase in the credenza, I saw there was a sign on the kitchen bar, taped to the coffee pot. It said, "Thank you, Sweetheart. I love you ❤xxx." 

She had said she would text me throughout the progress of the date. I reheated some leftovers, and sat there in my easy chair, trying to occupy myself watching the news, but my mind was elsewhere. I was being torn up inside. I was questioning the wisdom of this decision. My imagination was operating in overdrive. What were they talking about? Did they just skip dinner and go for the main course? Was he rough or gentle? Was he hung? A million thoughts flooded my brain. Regret was certainly on my mind. How could I be so stupid to risk the most important thing in my life?

About six-thirty, I received her first text. "At restaurant. Waiting to be seated. He's a real gentleman."

I was watching some mindless sitcom, when just after eight, she texted, "Dinner was wonderful, he's so witty and handsome. Going to dance awhile and have a couple drinks. I think you would like him. Talk soon. xxx."

I sat there, just staring at the screen on my phone with total anticipation. At eight-forty-five, I received another text, "I'm soooo damn hot. My pussy is dripping wet. We're going to room now." 

At ten after nine, I get a text with a picture of a giant black cock, saying: "He's fucking huge. He's going to fuck me now. See you at home. Wait up for me, love. Xxx."

I stared at the photo. She didn't say he was black. That dick looked like it belonged on a porn star. It made my seven inches look like a cocktail weenie. It was ripping me up, thinking of her being pounded by that enormous cock. I was feeling every emotion in the book, all at one time - anger, lust, rage, jealousy, envy, all coursed through my veins at the same time.

Just before two in the morning, I heard a car pull up in the drive way. The headlights were glowing through the curtains. I turned out all the lights and peered out the kitchen window. He was kissing her goodnight. Henry was much younger than me, and built like a linebacker, big and muscular. Lexi lifted up on her toes, slid her hand in his unbuttoned dress-shirt, and kissed him deep. I rushed back to my recliner as she fiddled with the lock to open the door. I pretended to be asleep. I heard the door open and shut, and the click of her heels on the tile. 

"Honey? You awake?" She said softly, and shook me lightly.

"Oh, yeah. I'm awake. How'd it go?" I asked, looking at her through squinted eyes. 

Without saying a word, Lexi took my hand by the wrist and put it on her soaked panties, then said, "Come on, stud. It's your turn! Let's go to bed." 

She lead me by the hand toward the bedroom. I followed her up the stairs, watching her butt sway confidently. She tossed her jacket on the chair, and then stood in front of the bed, waiting. 

"Undress me!" She commanded. 

The shimmering light cascaded through the window, highlighting her glowing beauty. I don't think I've ever seen her prettier. I was now seeing what he saw. That elegant black dress that showed off her cleavage looked new to me. I wondered if she bought it just for tonight. 

I unzipped the back and peeled it down, exposing her braless full globes of perfection. She stepped out of the dress, and I carefully placed it on the back of the dressing-chair. Then I pulled her to me, and kissed her with a passion we haven't felt in years. She tasted of him, and I could smell his cologne on her. It only heightened my desire. 

Then, I hooked my fingers in her cum-soaked panties and slid them down, with her stepping out of them, and off her feet. She was breathtaking, standing there wearing only her garter belt, nylons, and high-heels. The alabaster glimmer of her skin was enhanced by the moonlight. She laid back on the bed and spread her legs, exposing her well-fucked, cum-loaded pussy. I was soon to find out he had really pumped her full. 

"Alan, come here and lick me!" She pleaded. 

I just stared at her pussy, with his cum seeping out, and could not believe she could ask me to even consider such a gross thing. She placed her fingers on her labia and spread them. 

"Alan! Lick it now!" She forcefully stated. 

I quickly pulled off my clothes, discarding them wherever they fell, and then knelt on the floor in front of her waiting pussy. I cupped her butt cheeks and hesitated. Her vagina was becoming clearer in the darkened room as I came closer. I could see the oozing fluid seeping out. She impatiently grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me in. The smell of his sex was strong. The tip of my tongue tasted the cum. It was salty, and made me partly gag. I wanted to fuck sloppy seconds, not eat it. 

"Ohhhh. Lick me. Make me come. Please! That's it!" She yanked me harder. 

I flicked her clit and she moaned some more. Her pussy opened like a flower, and more cum was released. Lexi cried out her pleasure loudly, bucking her hips and gripping my hair tightly, pulling me in, as she jerked with an orgasm. It was not something I ever considered, but her heightened arousal induced me to vigorously lap her to multiple climaxes. 

"Fuck me... Now!" She gasped, pushing me up. 

Not needing any further coaxing, I crawled between her legs to claim my long-awaited prize. I normally enter her slowly, because of her tightness, but she was so well-gaped, I slid into her soaked pussy with no resistance at all. Her pussy was so stretched, I wondered if she'd ever go back to normal. The remnant of his seed made a squishing sound as I pumped. I was delirious, with my mind spinning in pleasure. This was the most unbelievable sex we've ever had. 

"Ohhhh, that is incredible. Fuck me! Fuck me harder. Don't stop. Ahhhh, keep going!" Lexi cried out in a lustful, unfamiliar pleading voice. 

"Let me put my legs together. It'll be tighter for you," she suggested. 

I couldn't believe she was indicating I was too small. She always said how big I was. I did as she asked, rolling her on her stomach, and straddling the outside of her legs. I was caught up in the moment, fucking her like a mad man, repossessing what was mine. The sounds of sex filled the room. Our skin slapped with every thrust. The bed squeaked and hammered against the wall. I was uncontrollably slamming into her like never before. 

"Ohhhh my God! Fuck me! Fuck your whore wife! Ahhhhh, I'm coming!" She screamed out. 

Trying to hold back was useless, as I felt that familiar wave of intensity wash over me. I was trying to stop the inevitable, but that was as impossible as stopping a hurricane. Every nerve in my being was engaged into one unified purpose - releasing my hours of built-up anticipation.

"Ahhhh, I'm coming!" I cried out, as I ejaculated into her womb. Spurt after spurt, I emptied my balls. It seeped out, puddling on the bed-spread. Spent, and breathless, I collapsed on her, recovering from the most intense love-making of my entire life. 

"That was unbelievable!" I panted. 

"It was wonderful. You were incredible, Alan!"

"This was quite a day for you, hun. How do you feel?

"How do I feel? I feel... I feel... really, really fucked!" She giggled.




Beginnings



"Where do we go from here?" I asked, after a couple minutes of silence, except our heavy breathing. 

"Where do we go from here? I don't know about you, but I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?"

"You know what I meant, smart-ass. Where are we taking this?" 

"Don't ruin the moment, honey. I haven't thought that far ahead. We will talk about that tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to savor this incredible day. Can you do one more thing for me, sweetheart?" Lexi said, with pleading puppy eyes. 

"Anything, my love." 

"Anything? Are you sure?" 

"Yes! Anything!" I replied, resolutely.

"Great! You sleep on this side of the bed," she said, looking at the big wet spot and laughing. 

******

The next morning, I awoke around noon. After I made the coffee and brought her a cup, we lay in bed, discussing Lexi's encounter. Lexi was so very graphic, describing it all in exquisite detail. I asked her if she was planning on seeing him again, but she said she would talk later. 

"Right now, I've got something I want to show you," she said, pulling her phone out of her purse and totally surprising me.

"Henry asked that I play this video. Can you broadcast it on the big screen, like you did with our vacation footage? I haven't seen it yet either, since he recorded it." 

"Sure I can," I replied, and placed it in the media cradle. 

I took the remote, and scanned down the MP4 files in the opening menu, and selected the one that said "untitled." The TV flickered, and the video started in HD mode, complete with sound. I watched the screen picture as it shook and came into focus. There was a big, muscular black man sitting on the edge of the bed, in what appeared to be a lavish hotel room. He began to talk.

"Hello, Alan! I'm Henry, and just a few minutes ago, I finished fucking your wife for over four hours." He stood, until just his torso showed, and I could see him holding that massive meat and shaking it for the camera. 

He continued, "This was your wife's first big black cock, but I assure you, after tonight, this won't be her last. The old saying is true, that says once she goes black, there is no going back!" He laughed. 

I turned and looked at Lexi. She was showing little reaction. 

"Since you are watching this video, I have to congratulate you for passing your first cuckold test. You ate the cum I deposited in your wife's tight pussy. She was instructed to show you this clip only if you did." I paused the video and looked at Lexi. 

"I can't believe this! Were you aware this was happening when you went out with him?" I glared at her, but she was unflinching. 

"We talked at lunch. He shared that he only... uh... dated married women, and helped them fulfill their slutty, dominant side." 

"So you planned this with him?" 

"No! I was not planning anything. He was. This was all him. Watch the rest." 

I clicked the start button and he continued, as he sat back down on the bed. 

"Alan, are you grasping the magnitude of what all this means? When you agreed to send your wife to me to be fucked, you abdicated all your rights as a husband. You tore up your marriage certificate, and served up your vows to the demon of lust. I assume by now you had a great time with her. Probably the best sex of your whole relationship. Right? You're at a cross-roads here, Alan." He paused, and took a sip of water. 

He continued, "If you send her back, she's mine to do with as I please - me, and my friends. That's right, you heard right - my friends. Talk it over. The decision is yours. If it is no, then I say thanks for a memorable evening. If yes, then be prepared to have your world rocked." He approached the video-phone, it flickered and went blank. 

I sat for what seemed like an eternity, staring at the blank screen, trying to digest what just happened. I turned to face Lexi, but she was avoiding eye contact. Then I said, "Is he serious? 

"I think so."

"Is it true that the choice is up to me? If I say no, then that's it? Our lives go back to normal?"

"Yes and no. If you say no, then it ends right here, but I don't think things will ever go back to normal."