30 comments/ 97577 views/ 6 favorites Two Words By: ukresearcher Why did I agree to accompany the young salesman to his hotel room? Over the previous four years, in many hotels I had received countless similar propositions but every time had left rejected suitors behind, including several both better looking and more persuasive than Richard, my companion for the night. Was it because Richard seemed relatively inexperienced compared to the majority, was it because I had perhaps grown sexually frustrated at home or was it simply because when my husband had spoken the two words, 'I'm easy', I decided that I would also be easy but in my own way. I've been married for eight years. John my husband and I were working for the same firm when we met but as there was a strict no fraternisation between staff rule contact had been limited to casual conversations. But then we bumped into each other in a nightclub when we were both in an inebriated condition, at the end of which I finished up on my back on the rear seat of his car. From then on we were an item but for a time we had to keep this fact very discrete. Maybe due to this restriction we got married very quickly, at which point the firm came up trumps by both laying on and paying for the reception. John was in many ways the dream man, tall dark handsome and very intelligent. Also at the start he was a tiger in bed, making up in boundless enthusiasm for what he possibly lacked in skill. I must admit that that I had been a bit wild, especially at university, so I was not lacking in experience but I always suspected that my hubby had enjoyed less exposure to the opposite sex. I had been with better hung men and although this was one respect in which John was less than perfect, he still had more than enough to work with. I think that the boss Tom developed a soft spot for the pair of us although he never said anything overtly. John and I both progressed until after four years we were both head of our own departments. Although this resulted in a handsome combined salary there was a downside in that we both now needed to travel to liaise with different clients. I tended to average at least two three day trips every month with John doing about the same and as these away times seldom seemed to overlap we often spent over a third of every month apart. Even though this routine began to leave me feeling sexually deprived, despite the constant opportunity, I never dreamed of cheating because I loved my husband too much. Even at home things started to deteriorate. We had built up a wide social circle and the reciprocal round of entertainment ate into our already limited together time. John had become a golf fanatic and played every Sunday. I didn't mind that but he invariably stayed too many hours in the club house afterwards, to eventually stagger home good for nothing except sleep. Add in extra hours put in at work and we were making love no more than once a week and even then I felt that John was only doing his duty because he seemed to get very little pleasure out of it. The Ideal Homes Exhibition at Earls Court was coming up and the firm always had a major presence. This year it was my job to go down several days in advance to get everything set up with the rest of the sales employees following at the end of the week. There was a general meeting of all staff to discus aims and objectives at the end of which, when the others had left, Tom looked at John and offered, "You can go down with your wife if you like. Do you want to or would you prefer to travel down with the others?" I immediately saw that Tom was throwing us a gratuitous perk because with John and I spitting the work, it would leave time for sightseeing, not to mention the chance to take in some West End shows. It could easily be made into a very pleasant romantic holiday in which to re-establish contact between us. I had to suppress a smile at the thought of my husband leaping at the chance. Instead, to my amazement, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, "I'm easy, whatever you think." I saw the puzzlement on the boss's face as he asked, "What have you got on to keep you up here?" "I was planning to tie up the Bowyer contract early." "But there's no urgency on that," Tom protested, "I fact it's one of the few contracts where being a bit late doesn't matter. " "I know that but I wanted to clear the decks ready for that Hatton project next month," John explained sufficiently to end the exchange. I was seething because I knew that was a very threadbare excuse and I was sure that Tom was equally aware of that fact. Despite this I said nothing to John after the meeting and we carried on with a semblance of normality until I travelled down to London alone on the Sunday night. It was the following night that I found myself following Richard to his room. It is only fair to point out that I had enjoyed other mini encounters over the years. I had found that dancing the slow ones in a close embrace and even a bit of kissing helped rapport and created an ambiance for the evening but I always slept alone. Now I was about to break my rule. I had gradually come to accept that my marriage was on the slide, either because my husband no longer fancied me or because he had found one or more others that he fancied more. His turning down the chance to spend a week alone with me in the capital seemed the final confirmation. However, even though I had resigned myself to the fact that John was cheating on me, when I went down to the bar to relax on that Monday night, I had no conscious plans to pay him back in his own coin. I am 5' 6" tall with medium length, wavy, mid blonde hair. I have pretty decent legs and tits but, like most women I think my bum is too big. In the early years John used to think the opposite, insisting that it was my best feature, saying how much he loved the thrusting roundness especially in high heels. From the attention that dance partners give to my bottom and the lustful glances of many men, I don't think he's alone in that opinion. Richard was about 5' 10 tall with a chunky build, thick, brown curly hair and a pleasing face. What attracted my attention was that although he looked to have a lot to offer he didn't have the stamp of a player. He and I were both sitting alone at adjacent tables, sipping our respective drinks. It must have been nearly twenty minutes before he spoke and then only because he caught my gaze upon him. That fact alone confirmed my opinion that he wasn't active in the hotel scene. Although I now had suspicions, I had long thought the same of my husband. He was as straight as a die and I used to believe that he was incapable of lying and that was one of the main things that made me love him so much. Unfortunately as an experienced observer of lonely people in weekday hotels, I could see how constant exposure to temptation could have eroded that element of his character. There were always fun loving young women who calculated that more mature men on expense accounts offered more prospect of a good time than poverty stricken fellow students. Then there were the attractive hookers touting for trade, not to mention the wives with husbands lurking nearby. Voyeuristic partners who got some sort of thrill watching their wives dirty dancing and being groped by other men, and even sneaking up to hotel rooms for a carnal interlude. Richard and I conducted a remote conversation for a few sentences until he spontaneously got up and moved to my table, politely hesitating for permission before sitting down opposite me. A few sentences later I returned the favour by moving to the chair next to his when a sudden surge in volume from the adjacent ball room made it too hard to hear. A short while later, after sitting with heads huddled together; we gave up the fight and joined the dancers next door. Fortuitously, the moment we arrived, the band switched to a long sequence of much quieter slow tempo tunes. I melted into his arms and immediately felt that I belonged. It was obvious from the first moment that he was already highly aroused from the hardness pressing against my thigh but it wasn't until I felt my own corresponding wetness that I first realised that I intended to fuck him. We shared two full sets of three tunes each. During that time there was no actual kissing or unnecessary touching, but I think that from very early on we shared an unspoken acknowledgement of how the evening would end. When the band went back to disco beat we left but instead of going back into the bar, Richard headed for the stairs, with me following a discreet few paces behind. Walking down the long corridor leading to his room, I was filled with anticipation and intense excitement, knowing that I was about to have sex with another man for the first time in nearly ten years. I kept the hair on my pussy closely trimmed, preferring a sparser look to a thick bush but for the past two years it was hardly worth the effort, now I was very glad I'd taken the trouble. The moment that the door closed behind us we were in a passionate embrace, complete with open mouthed kissing but both of us knowing that this was not what we were there for and started ripping off each others clothes, although to be accurate it was more a case of him unwrapping me than me than me undressing him. As soon as I was nearly naked he released me and I took a step backwards, only to impact the edge of the bed with the backs of my legs and fall backwards onto the covers. In a flash Richard's head was between my thighs, seeming to have made my remaining panties disappear as if by magic. However, what magic there was in that room that night resided in his tongue because I had never felt anything quite like it. I think that I had my first orgasm within a minute but it is hard to remember because so many were to follow. I used to think that John was particularly good at this and he actually declared many times that with me it was his favourite sexual activity. Sadly, prior to this night it was a full two years since he had last eaten me. I think it was that which marked the start of our sexual decline. Now I was ending a two year drought with the joy of a master class in cuninglingus from Richard. As the night progressed and he proved to be an expert lover in almost every aspect of sexual activity, I began to doubt my early belief that he would prove a relative novice at the lovemaking game. It was impossible for him to have become so practiced without a great deal of experience at the seduction game. The moment that Richard eventually paused for breath I quickly squirmed around, almost getting my legs tangled in my eagerness to reciprocate. I used to love having a cock in my mouth, the taste, the texture, the throbbing excitement and the knowledge that I could have a male under absolute control awaiting the whim of my tongue. Semen was a different matter, sometimes it was delicious other times somewhat less so and it was one of the misfortunes of life that my husband fell into the latter category. It was while I was happily sucking Richard that I suddenly realised that I was possibly as much to blame for our sexual decline as my husband. The fact was that I had not had my husbands cock in my mouth since he last licked me and I now had to wonder if I had withheld that favour as a petty revenge. During a pause in the lovemaking, (at times it was that rather than plain fucking), I complemented my lover on his bedroom skills and remarked that he must have had sex with a great number of females. He grinned and shaking his head informed me that he had comparatively little numerical experience and had been taught everything he knew by one woman. I asked how could he have ever let her go, upon which his grin widened even further as he said, "I didn't let her go, at least not really, I married her three years ago." I asked the obvious question, if he'd got a woman like that at home what the hell was he doing there with me? His face took on a more sombre look as he informed me, "I actually haven't got her at home because we separated two months ago." I wished that I hadn't said anything because this threatened to spoil the mood for the rest of the evening, so I put on my sympathetic face and asked it he wanted to talk about it. "From when we got married and before it was marvellous. I had very little experience of girls but Rita had been with a lot of men and knew a lot about sex. I thought she would drop me like a hot brick but she liked me and said she would teach me everything that I needed to know. I've never enjoyed learning something so much in my life. She was very patient with me and we spent hours practicing, mainly the proper way to lick pussy and doing exercises so that I could do special things with my cock." "So what went wrong?" I asked. "Two months ago I arrived at a client to do a three day appraisal only to find that the official receiver had taken over that morning. The firm had gone bankrupt and nobody had thought to tell me. So I turned round and drove all the way home only to find Rita in bed with some guy I didn't know. Later I found out that she had been learning new tricks with different men every time I was away and she was not at all ashamed." He gave a wry grin and continued, "I thought she had loved me so much but this proved it was all a big lie so packed up and left the same night but all the time Rita was following me round saying she couldn't understand why I was so upset. She said she had been fucking men since long before she was legal and got so she needed a wide variety of cocks. 'I only do it when you're away,' she told me, as if not sneaking around when I was at home excused everything else. 'But I still love you as much as ever" she cried after me as I went through the door but how could I possibly believe her?" "So you've been playing around ever since?" "I intended to but never managed it," he admitted, "Part of the reason was that I could never think of a good pick up line until it was too late but mainly I found it hard to cheat on Rita despite everything she's done. You were different, you looked like a nice person and I felt I could talk to you naturally without trying to be clever." It was during this conversation that Richard admitted that, although that was what his wife called him, he actually preferred the name Rick. I gave him a nice kiss as thanks for the testimonial and that was enough to start us on the carnal stuff again. We carried on fucking for half the night and I think we were still going through the motions when I fell asleep. It was strange waking up in bed with another man after so long but also nice; my husband hasn't wanted sex in the morning for years. Because of that delay we had to rush to breakfast before heading off on our different days. We met up at 3 p.m. and that became the pattern for the days that followed. Rick and I wandered aimlessly with no fixed agenda and soon started holding hands like lovers and stopping for spontaneous kisses. One day we visited a museum, another we looked round the tower of London and on another went for a walk in the park and in a small patch of woodland we managed a quickie, me with my back against a tree. When first booking in to my room I had discovered another treat from Tom in the form of two tickets to the top London show for the Wednesday evening. When handed the present I hadn't been particularly impressed but now I had my lover to accompany me. We had a fabulous time and finished it off in the most appropriate way. After the first night in Rick's room, on the Tuesday and Wednesday we switched to mine because my suite had the better king as opposed to queen size bed. However, for the Thursday I suggest that we switch back. You see, whenever I returned to my room after being out all day there was still the unmistakable aroma of sex lingering in the air and as I would be sharing that bed with my husband for the next fortnight that did not seem a good idea if I hoped to keep my illicit couplings secret. There was also the thought that if my husband happened to turn up early in the morning, it was better for him to find the room empty rather than me in bed with another man. Rick and I were in the middle of having sex about 10p.m. on the Thursday evening when my mobile rang. I knew that it could only be John and was rather disconcerted because I had religiously rung him earlier in the evening every day, to guard against just this eventuality. We were in the cow girl position with Rick reaching up to tweak my nipples and I was reluctant to stop completely so I froze and hissed, "Stay perfectly still while I talk to my husband, don't even move a muscle." When I put the phone to my ear, John was already talking. "I've finished the Bowyer thing today so if you like I can fly down and join you first thing tomorrow morning." This was the last thing I wanted. Friday would be my last day with Rick and I had deliberately ensured that all my work was done so that we were free to enjoy a long idyllic day together. Thinking quickly I said, "It's a nice thought love but there isn't really much point. I've got a load of work on tomorrow and I've even got an appointment which will take up most of the evening and after all that all I will want to do is creep straight into bed. Even if you are down here, I doubt if I will have much opportunity to see you." My husband accepted my excuse very easily, in fact his voice sounded almost relieved. We started a bit of general conversation about the exhibition but in the middle of this Rick did one of his practiced dick tricks that I mentioned earlier, sending a myriad of butterfly sensations radiating all over my bodyand causing me to give an involuntary gasp of pleasure. "What happened just then?" John wanted to know. Again putting my wits to good use, I explained, "I was making myself more comfortable and almost dropped the phone." This prompted my husband to tell me that there was no point getting comfortable because he hadn't much more to say, so it was easy to bring the conversation to a close with the obligatory exchange of 'I love you." The moment that I had pressed the off button, I admonished my lover, "You bastard, why did you want to do that?" but with the smile on my face undoubtedly lessening the force of the rebuke. "I don't really know, it just happened but to be honest I felt a bit embarrassed lying here with my cock up inside you while you were talking to your husband." I gave him a complicit grin and said, "I can understand that but wasn't it just a little bit naughty as well?" It was soon obvious that my seducer also appreciated the kinky element because the intervention added a lot of new intensity to our passion. Later thinking back over the evening, it struck me that for a very recent beginner at the cheating game, I had very quickly become an accomplished cuckoldress. That Friday morning we actually had sex before going down for breakfast but retuned afterwards for another prolonged session. Hunger forced us to break for lunch and then we actually set out on a planned sightseeing trip but quickly abandoned that in favour of the preferable pleasures of the bedroom. We took dinner in the hotel restaurant followed by a couple of drinks in the bar and then went back to the temple of pleasure which Rick's bed had become. During that almost continuous final session, almost in a ritual way, we worked through all the different positions and activities we had done during our magical five days. A little after 4 o'clock in the morning, with energies seriously depleted, we kissed and said our final goodbyes before, playing safe, I left to spend the remainder of the night in my own bed. John arrived the next morning with the rest of the firm's sales employees and we were immediately embroiled in dealing with the usual large first day exhibition crowds. In fact we were caught up in work so quickly that I was spared the ordeal of looking into my husband's trusting eyes for the first time following my infidelities. We finished very late and didn't even have time for a winding down drink, thankfully falling into bed together, totally exhausted. I was relieved because I'd been rather dreading having sex with my husband again. Sunday was almost the same but Monday was much quieter. We were able to enjoy a relaxed evening and in bed John started to show tentative amorous intent. It would have been fairly easy to put him off but I thought it best to get it over with. It wasn't bad, in fact it was quite pleasant to go back to slow and steady but I didn't manage an orgasm. Two Words The rest of the duration of the exhibition followed the same pattern but with the second week much less busy than the first, so much so that I was able to sneak away on a couple of afternoons to enjoy an hour or so with Rick in a short stay hotel. John wanted his conjugal rights twice the first week, three times the second and I hoped that he was improving but as soon as we were back at home he reverted to the weekly pattern. Actually one of the times that John wanted me that second week was after I had already spent the afternoon in bed with Rick. That did make me feel like a slut but my initial worry that John would be able to tell were unfounded. On that last afternoon with Rick he asked about my future travel plans. I told him that I was seeing a client in Edinburgh in two weeks time but he shook his head, however when I said I would be in Birmingham a fortnight later for thee days his face lit up with a big grin as he said that he could arrange his schedule to be there at the same time. In Edinburgh I had planned to behave myself and wait until Rick but on the first night, finding myself alone in an empty bar except for a middle aged businessman, I accepted his offer of a drink and soon after, almost as a formality, we were in bed together. There was only the one straightforward fuck and then he left. The following night, in the same bar and sitting in the same seat I met up with his clone and again did the dirty. Both men had decent sized cocks and were reasonably competent but they were empty experiences, even so I had to admit that I had picked up some kind of craving. Meeting up with Rick was a bit of a mistake. I was unusually busy and spent the whole of the second evening being entertained by the client. To make matters worse, Rick had nothing to do and spent most of the three days just hanging about waiting for me. Even in bed it wasn't the same, mainly because the urgency had gone. Rick happily told me that he had gone back to Rita. He said, "I left because I couldn't believe her claim that fucking other men had no effect on her love for me but after being with you and still loving her, I began to understand." When we parted we thanked each other for the memory but agreed not to see each other again. I think I was actually grieving for him until I hit the jackpot again two weeks later. His name was Jeff, again younger than me, brilliant sense of humour, long thin cock and boundless energy. He made it fun and although not having the same expertise as Rick, he certainly knew his way around a girl's body with the result that I was back in the land of orgasmic abundance. For some reason condoms weren't even mentioned. We were in my bed and he stayed the whole night with me but in the morning, before parting, he persuaded me to have a threesome with him and his colleague Tony that night. Tony was average height and a really good looking guy but he seemed rather shy when we were first introduced, so I was amazed to discover that he had the largest cock I had ever encountered, in thickness more than length. I had always assumed that males with that kind of endowment were bound to be arrogant and very sure of them selves. Let me say now that having two rampant males all to yourself is something that every female should experience at least once in her life. Two mouths, two tongues, four hands and two cocks plus the fact that there are no lulls because when one takes a breather the other is raring to take over. It's also a fact that no matter how friendly the guys are with each other there is an element of competition between them with both striving to give you the biggest orgasm, the most orgasms or keep you longest on that ecstatic sexual plateau. Usually with just one guy, the female tries to avoid making him cum too early because of the recovery time afterwards but with two that isn't a consideration for there is a always a spare to move straight into the breach. This has got to be the most sublime situation for the female, except possibly for the more loving kind of sex. If somebody had been standing there with a stop watch, I believe it would have shown that I spent more than fifty percent of the time with a cock in my mouth. Tony introduced me to the special pleasure of feeling really stretched (although it was a bit painful at the start) and being pounded by one cock while having another down my throat gave a mind blowing surfeit of sensation. All that made me realise that I had missed out on quite a lot in life. At one time both men were trying to persuade me to allow double penetration but I was resolute in my refusal because I felt it was a step too far. Later I regretted that. I had been nervous about treading onto new ground but part of me was curious to find out what it would feel like. I reasoned that I couldn't have found a better pair for a first time because both were very decent guys and I knew they would treat me gently. During the day I decided to take the plunge that night and spent the time from then on looking forward with extra anticipation to the evening. I was to be disappointed. When I met up with Jeff in the restaurant, I started looking round for Tony only to be told that he had been instructed to return early. With my earlier enthusiasm now moderated, I was content to take a leisurely meal and then spend a short time in the bar. Following Jeff to his room again, remembering the interruption when I was with Rick, I had the foresight to switch my mobile off. With the absence of my other hoped for partner I was expecting less continuous action but it turned out not to be far short. The explanation was that Jeff had taken the precaution of dosing himself up with some little blue pills. During a lull I told Jeff that had his pal been there I was going to let them both fuck me at the same time. This prompted him to ask if I wanted to do anal. This was something that I had never tried before, despite all my early experiences and even throughout my marriage. Why John had never wanted me that way was understandable because he was a bit straight laced in some respects but I was puzzled why it had not been included in Rick's extensive menu. After some initial difficulty I loved it, so much so that before the end of the night I asked Jeff to do me that way again. I'm not sure if it was the threesome or Jeff's unremitting sexual assault on my body, but heading homewards on the train I was very aware of how tender I felt in my most intimate parts. I was very thankful that, on past form, my husband was unlikely to want his conjugal rights. I was also a little concerned because on checking my mobile that morning I had found it crammed with missed calls, recorded every ten minutes throughout the previous evening. I should have been more worried but I was still on such a high from the previous three days that it didn't seem such a big deal. * When I got home on the Friday evening, with an accusing look on his face, my husband demanded, "Why the hell couldn't reception find you in your room all last night and why was your mobile switched off between nine o'clock and the early hours of the morning?" I had no even vaguely plausible excuse and I think I was fed up with the deceit, so looking him straight in the eye I said boldly," The answer to your first question is simply that I didn't spend the night in my own room and the reason that I switched the mobile off is that I was busy getting fucked and I didn't want to be interrupted." "For four solid fucking hours?" "That sounds about right," I confirmed. I think that John had anticipated a long session of accusation and denial because my quick confession seemed to have left him at a loss for words. After a long pause of many moments, he limply asked, "Why?" I shrugged my shoulders. I knew that my confession would have hurt him deeply and I didn't want to add to that hurt by pulling him to pieces to try and justify my behaviour. "Have you been letting other men stick their cocks in your cunt ever since you started spending nights away from home?" he asked crudely. "No, I only started recently." "How many?" "Apart from the first time, I've only cheated the last three times I've been away," I said, telling the truth but lying by omission. "When was the first time?" "It happened the first night of that week that I spent alone getting ready for the exhibition. It wouldn't have happened if you'd been with me as you should have been. It was actually a bit of an accident but after that I spent every night in his bed. He was giving me the best sex of my life and after that first taste I wanted a lot more. That week I gave him everything that I had hoped I would be giving you. We went sightseeing together, we took in a show together and every night we fucked like rabbits," I told him cruelly. "Have you seen him since?" John asked quietly. I nodded, "One of the three occasions that I told you about was with him. In case you're wondering I won't be seeing him again because he's gone back to his wife but I have been looking for a replacement." "I don't understand why," my husband said miserably. "We used to be so happy and at one time I would have bet my life that you would never be unfaithful to me. I've stayed faithful to you so what has made you change so drastically? "You did," I told him simply, "For the last two years you have neglected me dreadfully and when you turned down Tom's kind offer for us both to travel early for the exhibition it brought everything to a head. There was too little work for two so you must have realised that he was giving us chance for a little free holiday but there was obviously something that you wanted to do more. The only explanation I could think was that you were seeing someone else so I thought I was paying you back. Then when you said to Tom, 'I'm easy,' I decided that I could be 'easy' too." Without answering and with an intense look on his face, John suddenly leapt to seize me roughly and kiss me fiercely before pushing me down on the settee and forcibly removing both my trousers and panties. I could have put up more of a struggle but I was too surprised to make much resistance. Then he just rammed himself inside me without any foreplay or gentleness. His cock looked swollen and angry and far stiffer than I ever remembered it. Fortunately in those brief seconds before penetration I had become quite wet. The sex was furious and brief but in that short time I came twice, I think triggered by the sheer ferocity, of a kind I had never experienced before with him. I had also never known him ejaculate so much and he seemed to spend longer pumping his semen into me than the duration of the actual fuck. We lay still joined catching our breath but the silence was broken by John saying slowly and quietly, "I haven't cheated because frankly I don't think I was capable. For the last couple of years I've had a struggle managing it even once a week with you and even then I had to make it quick because I was scared of going limp half way. The only consolation was that you didn't seem to any appetite for sex either. You see I was always to desperately tired at night without any energy to make love. There was always something to do, places to go or people to entertain so I finished up feeling permanently exhausted. Even the bloody golf became another chore that I couldn't get out of and the only time in the week when I could relax a bit was when drinking in the club house. Even then I overdid it, had too much and suffered for it afterwards." John paused and then continued slowly, "I would have loved to go down to London with you but I daren't. A couple of years ago I started having erection problems, I think I needed inspiration but you always lay there waiting for me to do it. I was scared that if we were together for several days in a romantic context, you would be bound to realise my problem. I do get erections but not at the right time" This little speech touched my conscience. I was thinking of something apologetic to say but I didn't get the chance because my husband suddenly jumped to his feet and started pacing back and forwards in front of me. He had somehow managed to shed his trousers completely, so he was naked from the waist down and his cock was as stiff and angry at it had been at the start. His semen was leaking out of me in some quantity and making quite a mess on the leather settee so also I stood intending to go to the bathroom. "Where are you going?" he asked sharply. I told him just to clean up but he ordered me to stay where I was, adding that he liked watching his cum oozing out of me and then he asked sharply, "Did you let them all fuck you bareback?" "Only some," I replied honestly. "What about the first guy, the one that seduced you?" I nodded. "I told you it started as an accident, it wasn't planned on either side so neither of us had a condom and by the time we discovered that it was too late to stop. Then after we had done it without protection all that first night there didn't seem much point in starting after that." "I suppose that he had a huge cock," John said bitterly, "If he was as good at sex as you say he must have had." Shaking my head I said, "He may have been a little bit longer than you and slightly thicker but it wasn't that. Rick's had learned a lot of stuff from his very experienced wife and on top of that he never seemed to stop, I think he had a way of conserving his energy. That may have been due to a diet he followed, I know it affected his cum, both the taste and the quantity." I paused to say, "I'm not sure I should be telling you all this." In answer my husband lunged forward to grab my wrist and dragged me to my feet, declaring authoritatively, "I'm going to fuck you again but this time in bed with you properly naked." So saying he did but this time it was no quick fuck. He threw me almost violently all over the bed, arbitrarily switching from position to position, always seeming to be striving for greater penetration and power. By now, following so soon after my Thursday night marathon, I was definitely feeling the wear and tear but perversely the increasing soreness and bruised feeling only added to my pleasure." Finally it was over and he just flopped down on top of me. John laid breathing heavily for several minutes and then said in a kind of confidential tone, "I was convinced that I was starting to go impotent and was trying to hide it from you. When Tom offered that little holiday I had to turn it down. With several days together in a romantic situation you were bound to realise my problem and I was scared you would leave me." I reached out to touch him. "Darling I wouldn't leave you even if you did go impotent; I love you far too much for that. I love you as much now as I ever did. I think I was just fulfilling a need." "How can you say that after those other men?" "That was just sex and it had nothing to do with love," I told him sincerely. "But where does it leave us?" "That rather depends on you but if you want us to stay together, we are going to cut down on our lifestyle for a start, all the going out and socialising and we're both going to stop putting in so many hours at work," I said firmly, "And I promise you sweetheart, I'm never going to cheat on you again." John raised himself on one elbow and looked at me with almost a happy expression on his face. You might want to hold up on that last bit," he said. "I've never felt so aroused in my life, in fact I might want to go again in a minute and I think this is the kind of inspiration I need. On top of that, ever since Earls Court you've looked incredibly desirable with a kind of radiant glow and I don't want you to lose that." Two Words Heather was driving home. Dressed in a boring-plain blouse with long sleeves, dark-toned slacks and flat, round-nosed shoes. No one would've notice anything particular about her wardrobe. She felt a slight discomfort in her right hand, and noticed a broken nail. Looked at it for a moment, then chuckled... *** He was lean, sharp, fast moving, and full of energy. Not heavily built, but in a clearly good shape, and with quite an assertive attitude. One may think he's in his early 30's, if not for a barely noticeable sparks of gray in his hair. He felt nice, friendly and relaxed. Heather was walking next to him, only half-step back, and was totally mad. "-- So do you know anything at all about the Spunk Trees?" "-- No... Sir. I don't." "-- Oh, that's actually pretty funny, see..." He looked around as if he didn't want anyone else to hear, and started explaining something. She couldn't listen. The hose. He told her to dress in a "normal office attire", including pencil skirt, etc. And put on a pantyhose. Plain, body color. Size 'A'. She knew well in advance what's going to happen, but there was no way to say no. Her submissive escapade has begun. She wasn't a large woman, but definitely not that tiny -- and that darned crotch already slide down so much she felt like it's visible below hemline. Not only that was a ridiculously idiotic, humiliating feeling -- but she actually felt like she could barely walk, let alone ignore the darned thing! "-- Sorry, are you comfortable, Heather?" His voice was charmingly caring and full of attention. Like if he did not know! "-- Yes, Sir, I am well" "-- Are you sure, Heater?" "-- Yes... No... I'm sorry!" (A firework of expletives blasted through her head, and apparently printed itself out on her face.) "-- You lied to me, Heather. This is not cool." "-- I am sorry, Sir, I'm sorry! I'm not comfo..." "-- I know." His voice was ever so soft... "-- And this will result in a little bit of an additional punishment." She blushed. ("I am a fucking idiot. Stop blushing, you!..") "-- You are so cute when you're angry, Heather. I will think what can I do so this little miscommunication result in a truly exciting experience, when we'll make it to the dungeon." They kept on walking. He was looking around, genuinely enjoying a beautiful scenery, pointing out little things -- a funny cloud looking like it was stolen from the Simpsons opening sequence, a bicycle rider dodging a cab's suddenly opened door, a seagull hunting for fish... Heather was uncomfortable, mad, in certain way plain horny, and dedicated to get through -- all the way to the final scene. Suddenly he slapped her bottom, quick, rough and strong -- she almost jumped out of her hangin' hose and choked instead of yelling at him. That was plain silly and rude, nothing to do with domination! He looked in her eyes, patiently and attentively. Waiting. She wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in her mouth. "-- Let's go play, Heather." *** The dungeon looked cheap and dirty, with boring, filthy walls, stolen from a decade-old BDSM porn set. Heather noticed the clumsy cross and a rusty cage, then glanced at him... She was fast enough to drop her eyes down, but noticed something strange -- he was not looking in her eyes anymore, but rather staring through her head, tiny fraction of inch above her pupils. That was awkward. "-- Take off your clothes, Heather." Now he sounded flat, almost dull. She felt a buildup of a strange mix of feelings -- fear, worry, curiosity... and she wasn't aroused anymore, but strangely excited, with blood pumping in her head so heavily that she almost felt the veins on her forehead repeating the accelerated heartbeat. At least now she will be done with them annoying hose! She wanted to throw them away first thing, but kept on quietly placing the rest of her clothes on top of an old wooden box. "-- Leave the heels, hose and panties on." (These heels! How-many-inches with straps, oh God, they've already destroyed her feet -- and did he seriously thought that's how she walks in the office?! Ridiculous! The men with their fantasies...) "-- Stop that chat." "-- Excuse me... Sir?" "-- Stop talking to yourself." "-- Yes Sir. I am sorry Sir..." He was standing next to her, and next thing she realized is being on the floor, dropped down with a long, heavy slap across her face. She felt a slight taste of blood in her mouth, fear and anger pumped up -- they've agreed that there will be no marks left on the face and hands! "-- There will be no mark. Now crawl." She attempted to move sideways on all four, clumsy and inelegant, when a weighty kick in the buttocks threw her forward in a brilliant jolt of acceleration. Heater screamed and attempted to raise on her feet, but was swiftly pushed in a least expected direction, tripped over these darned hose and fell again, shaking. "-- Heather?" She caught her breath. "-- Yes, Sir!" "-- Please take the pantyhose off, they really hamper your movement." ("You don't say!!" -- sounded in her head for a fraction of second before an extremely painful, short kick in her thigh that dropped her, hurtling. She squeaked again, loud.) "-- I told you to stop talking. Now give your boys shorts to me." Heather gave him her panties, and noticed that her hand was shaking. She hated herself for that, but made a super-human effort to keep her face emotionless. "-- Good girl." She blushed. He smiled. She hold another excruciating blast of emotions from appear. "-- See that duct tape, there, on the box? Get a piece, and make your panties a gag and stick to it. This will be in your mouth soon and for some time further, I don't want you to swallow them by an accident." Heather carefully pasted a piece of her underwear to a chunk of gray tape, hating her shaking hands, and passed him the gag. Somehow it occurred to her that she must do that, kneeling -- he looked at her with approving smile and she suddenly felt good. Blood still pumping in her head, bruised and beaten, she was enjoying the fact that a man whom she finds... well, let's be honest, attractive! -- was treating her like junk. Physically. And maybe even worse, psychologically, but that was somehow the most exciting part. He carefully stuffed panties into her mouth and pasted the tape to her face. "-- Did you drink enough water today, as I told you?" She suddenly felt weak in her knees. Damned. Damned! "-- You need to go now, silly girl, don't you?" "-- Mmph!" He laughed with such a beautiful smile, she was going to give anything to see that smile again... but oh damned, she really wanted to pee now. She reminded her, and now she couldn't pull that thought out of her head. Her bladder suddenly became the most important part of her body, swelling and forcing to squeeze her legs, tight. "-- Ok, I'm sorry for not giving you a proper warm-up before our little kick-off, hope it helped you to get into subspace... in a bit different way. More like a shock therapy. Now let's do a proper, vanilla workout, I think you'll enjoy it." She stood silent, he put a pair of padded handcuffs on her hands, grabbed her hair and pulled her, hands down, bended awkwardly, towards the less lighted corner of the room. A heavy slap on her back dropped Heather down on all fours, and she was left alone for a moment... after which she felt something cold and rounded touching her ass. She jerked away from it and got another kick which dropped her on the floor, than a series of small kicks and pushes and tickles which kept her squirrelling down there, squeaking into the gag, until she raised her cuffed arms in a plea to stop it. "-- Please be a good girl, Heather. I need you to cooperate. Now sit on the toy." She looked at a large black butt plug, patiently waiting for her on the floor. Caught her breath and started to stuck herself on the cone-shaped top of it. He came closer and pat her head, then lovingly caressed her breasts, she quietly "oomphed" something, when suddenly he pressed on her shoulders, and she felt the toy inside, together with an incredibly painful spasm which was only getting worse. "-- Uauooomph!!! Oaaamph!! Ahoumph..." She cried. He wiped away her tears. Than grabbed her hair once again, yanking her from the floor, and pulled her into another corner of the room. There, he straightened her up, raised her hands and she felt like handcuffs got hooked on to something, and that this something started to pull up and up, straining little muscles of her shoulders, forcing her to stand on her toes, and exposing her -- hopeless, vulnerable, naked and dirty, with her ass raped and still hurting tremendously, though the first shock wave of pain already passed. "-- I know that's important to actually feel helpless, nothing like that to cross the point of no return." He was softly moving around her, playfully massaging her whole body with a leather flogger, which doesn't feel bad at all. "-- Pretty little breasts... Toned body... You are looking great, my dear Heather." She heard his voice, but before her brain consumed that simple last statement, a sting ripped through her thigh and made her yell in the taped panties with a blinding loud, and perfectly muffled, howl. Then the time stopped. Or stretched, to infinity. Riding crop, with something that looked like a steel point on a leather strap was switching to cane, to leather belt, to flogger, to a bamboo stick... He was working out her whole body, making her dance on her toes,grab the chain she was hanging on --trying to save her wrists --scream into these stupid panties, breath like crazy through her nose, twisting her body in a to get into a little bit more stable position -- only to get another sting in a lower part of the hamstrings forcing her to drop and lose balance. This game was taking eternity, and at some point Heather started to feel a strange bond towards a man who was whipping her, carefully keeping her body from any permanent harm, but leaving lots of marks and bruises -- that wasn't erotic per se, but strangely, the mix of pain and attention was making her feel good. Sinking into submission, forgetting about the way out. "-- Oh, look at this runny nose, must be hard to breathe like that, your nostrils work so hard... id you forget how badly you wanted to pee, my dear?" She freeze for a moment, then almost jumped to the room' ceiling --he used an electric "wand" on her, brushing it all the way down her back! "-- No? Yes? No? Like, right now?" Moaning, roaring, almost losing her voice to unsound whirlwind of pleasure, Heather's tired body was fighting the new enemy, in vain... After an eternity has passed, and her reaction smoothed out, the torment stopped. He reached around her and grabbed the plug' foundation. She stood still, than attempted to ever so quietly move away. "-- Seriously, Heath?" His smile was unbearable. Out of all the strength she has, she stretched on her toes, grabbing the chain... nothing happened... nothing... a soft pat on the back... Then a blast of a countless volts of electric lightning discharged directly into her most vulnerable spot between the legs -- immediately after, the plug was violently yanked outside. Heather exploded, including her poor bladder -- felt like all her life is gushing out and away from the least respectable parts of her body, strike of pain and humiliating disgust overwhelmed her, tears were not able to catch up with emotions, and she slide into unconscious. The world around was the same, but she felt not belonging to it anymore. Her memory didn't keep how he lowered her to the floor, removed the handcuffs, raised her body, and carried her to the bathroom. Lots of lights, it was surprisingly clean there. He placed her on a shower floor, undressed, and returned back. Looking above the pupils of her eyes in that strange manner she noticed before, he pulled the tape from her mouth -- one cheek, then the other. And that was the last bit of pain for tonight. Cuddling, patting her head and wounded body, he lovingly washed her, like a helpless baby, wrapped her in a fluffy towel and carried to bed. Cheap hotel sheets were feeling so good, and smelled clean too. She fell asleep. *** Heather was driving home. Dressed in a boring-plain blouse with long sleeves, dark-toned slacks and flat, round-nosed shoes. No one would've notice anything particular about her wardrobe. She felt a slight discomfort in her right hand, and noticed a broken nail. Looked at it for a moment, then chuckled... "Good girl" -- she heard his voice in her head. Good girl. Two Words I have often thought that love is like a fire. It rages and burns indiscriminately, spreading and consuming, greedily sucking in all oxygen leaving one gasping desperately. And that's how I felt for her. It's not quite describable, yet I know how it feels. I feel it within me, a torrent flooding through me, moving wildly in all directions and filling me with something I simply cannot comprehend. Looking over at her, sitting in the seat next to me, her adorable little sundress covering her pale and smooth thighs, her hands tucked in her lap neatly, patiently awaiting our destination. As my eyes traveled up, her head turns and her eyes met mine. And there it was, that smile, that simple beam of light that burned more powerfully than the sun. It shocked me into existence every time she blessed me with it. Having that blessing cast towards me made me feel a god amongst mortals. I felt my chest fill with a joy that could not possibly exist, that felt so dangerously perfect I didn't want to believe it existed. But it did. And all for me, for she was mine just as I was hers. The roads are often a lonely and desolate place, the moon shining on asphalt with not a soul in sight, but she was all I needed in this world. She was my world. I decided to pull over, catching a quizzical look from her. I said nothing as my hand reached up and caressed her face, she responded by nuzzling against it placing her own hand over mine, as if she wanted it to remain there for as long as possible. I leaned over, my eyes not leaving hers until our lips met. Her lips parted and our tongues clashed in the middle. A wild and unchoreographed waltz between lovers. I reached over and opened her door, as I mustered all my strength to break apart. We both exited the car, our eyes never leaving as I made my way over to her. We met eagerly, pressing against each other as we kissed passionately, the warm night air caressing us both as we held each other. I picked her up, heading towards the hood of the car, her eyes gazing into mine, betraying a dark and consuming lust as I set her on the hood. She rolled her hips against me, pulling me closer with her feet. I lifted her gently and pulled her dress above her waist. She smiled and whispered "That's cold", returning her mouth to mine. Her hand slid between us and I felt my zipper being tugged down and my button undone. Her hand slipped into my boxers, sliding down the length of my member, caressing me gently but firmly. She pulled my waistband down, exposing me to the warm breeze and guiding the head of my swollen cock towards her eager hole. She pressed her hips down as she felt them meet, but I pulled back, eliciting a small bite on my lip as she realized I intended to torture her. And torture her I did, only ever allowing the head to press against her, slightly thrusting just enough to push a small fraction of the tip in before retreating. I let this go on for a minute or two, laughing as she became more frustrated. My heart still threatened to split my chest open as we shared this moment. And at that moment is when I pushed into her, both our mouths agape, gasping for air as though we were short of breath. I began rolling my hips back and forth, holding her face in my hand as we gazed into each other, not consciously seeing, but feeling our passion, our inanely consuming love for each other expressed in a way that cannot be described but felt. And that is how time passed, our bodies sending our heat to one another, moaning and groaning against each other's lips. Her fluids flowing onto myself and down her legs as I slipped in and out of her, my length only appearing momentarily before being thrust back into her, filling her tight hole roughly as she pulled me into her with her heels digging into my ass. The night was only interrupted by the sound of passionate lovers. Her voice beginning to rise higher and slightly louder as I could feel her tighten around me. The increasing tightness began to reach deep within me, as I felt myself contracting, desperately increasing my tempo and force of each thrust. She pulled apart from me and looked at me, and her eyes momentarily screamed out to me just before they slammed shut and I felt a flood of her juices cover me, her sex massaging me desperately as I reached my boiling point. With a savage cry I felt myself release into her with a final and vicious thrust. Spurt after spurt I filled her, both of our juices escaping from her as she milked my cock for every drop. What felt as though a lifetime had passing finally faded to an end. Both of us opened our eyes, and for a moment we were gone. The world disappeared and we were in a reality that only existed for us, where we wanted for nothing but each other. I rested my head against her shoulder and neck, and her cheek pressed against my head, her hands slowly and gently rubbed across my back. I hoped this moment would never end.