0 comments/ 36419 views/ 0 favorites Christina: Weekend Adventure By: Christina Samuels It was just before three on a boring Friday afternoon in late July. Except for our secretary, and one of my assistants, I was the only one in the office. For most of the day, I had been kept busy reading the bored minutes from a client my team and I were about to audit. Each meeting was a bad case of S.S.D.D. (same shit, different day). By lunch time, I was ready to fall asleep. By two thirty, I couldn't think about anything beyond the cryptic message Aaron had left on my voice mail asking if I was up for a weekend of fun-and-games. "Jaime asked me to give you this. The courier service just dropped it off." The sound of Rachel's voice shattered the tedium. "Who's it from?" I asked. My assistant checked the return address on the manila envelope, and smiled. "Aaron." Rachel is a newlywed. Twenty-three years old and naive as hell when it comes to sex. By choice, she had remained a virgin until marriage. Considering all the nasty little (and not so little) things playing-the-field can get you now a days, this fact is not so shocking. What is extremely disquieting, however, is her overall lack of knowledge about all things carnal. Case in point. Four months after she and Jeff had gotten married, she came to me with a question. "Last night, Jeff asked if I was willing to let him take my backdoor." She began. "So what did you tell him?" I asked. "I told him I'd think about it. I was too embarrassed to tell him I didn't know what it was he wanted to do." Without further prompting, I translated: "He wants to have anal sex with you. You know; fuck you up your ass?" Once the initial shock wore off, she asked if Jeff's request was "normal" and if Aaron and I had ever tried it. I told her yes to both, and that not only had Aaron and I tried it, but that it had become a regular – though not too regular – part of our repertoire . . . along with other things. Since that day, Rachel and I have talked often and open about our respective sex lives. She's still a bit reluctant to spontaneously agree to Jeff's requests; but she's getting better. As for why she smiled when she saw the envelope was from Aaron; well, perhaps I've told her a bit too much. On with the story. Once Rachel had gone back to her office, I opened the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper within. I read: "If you want to play, turn off your cell phone, now. Leave work at exactly three thirty, go to your car and check your cell phone for messages. Do exactly as you're told. If you don't want to play, call my cell phone now. If I don't hear from you by three fifteen, I'll take it to mean that you accept my terms and will do exactly as you are told. Remember; three fifteen." Without hesitation, I reached into my purse, took out my cell phone and turned it off. The next forty eight minutes seemed longer than had the entire day. Finally! It was three thirty. I turned off my office lights and made my exit. As I passed Rachel's office I leaned in. "Looks like you were right." I said. "Have fun." "You better believe it!" I got into the car, started the engine and turned on the air conditioner. I took out my cell phone and turned it on. It beeped. I pressed the button to check for messages. "Last chance to call me and back out." Aaron's voice cautioned. "Okay. Here's what I want you to do. In the trunk of your car is an old audit case. It's locked. I'll give you the combination later. When you're done listening to this message, I want you to turn off your cell phone and drive to WalMart. When you get there, turn your cell phone back on and check for messages again." I turned off my cell phone and retrieved the audit case from the trunk. Ten minutes later, I was in the WalMart parking lot. Once more I took out my cell phone and turned it on. Once more, it beeped. I pressed the button to check for messages. "I'll give you the combination in a moment. What I want you to do next is this. First, take the case and go into WalMart and find the ladies restroom. Once in there, go into the handicapped stall and strip naked. Put on only what's in the case. Second, go back to the car and put the case back in the trunk. Third, go to the newsstand and buy a copy of Playboy. Fourth, go to the Pharmacy Shoppe and buy a box of condoms. Fifth, go to Lacie's Lingerie and buy five large silk scarves. Last, go back to your car and check your messages. That's it. Turn off your cell phone and get going. Oh, yeah. Seven, one, nine." Once more I turned off my cell phone. That done, I wasted little time dialing-in the combination. I could only imagine what Aaron had packed for me, but I was pretty sure it was going to be good. I was right. Inside the case, on top, was a pale blue, strapless, wonder bra from Victoria's Secret. Beneath that, a short, white camisole. Beneath that, a pair of white stockings and a black-leather micro-mini skirt. And on the bottom, a pair of six-inch, black, high-heel sandals. (No panties.) As I carefully re-packed the outfit Aaron had bought for me, I couldn't help but think about the fact that (had it been much more revealing), I would probably get picked up for indecent exposure. For a long moment I considered backing out. Why? Well, although I am not the least bit shy about wearing sexy clothes when Aaron and I got out for the evening, this was different. I mean, consider the list of errands I had been given: buy a copy of Playboy, a box of condoms and five silk scarves from a lingerie store. It was three forty five in the afternoon! Dressed like that, I was definitely going to stand out! The ladies room was vacant when I went in. I stepped into the handicapped stall and quickly closed and locked the door. Safe from public view, I set the audit case on the toilet and folded down the baby-changing table. Footsteps outside the door. I held my breath and waited. The door to the men's room opened and then closed. Quickly, I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off. I folded it once, then laid it on the changing table. With less urgency, I unzipped my skirt, stepped out of it and put it on top of my blouse. Next, I took off my bra and tossed it onto the pile. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my french-cut panties and began sliding them down my hips. More footsteps. The door opened and two women came in. I froze. As quietly as I could, I set the audit case on the floor and sat down on the toilet. I was completely naked. Except for my flats. My heart pounded as one of the women took the stall next to mine. The dividers were tall; but were they tall enough? What if she decided to look over the top? The second woman began talking to the first. Planning their shopping strategy. Their chatty conversation did little to allay my fear-of-discovery. Suddenly, the air conditioner kicked on. An ice cold blast of air cascaded over me. Instantly, my nipples began to stiffen from the cold. Within no time they were jutting out their full one-inch length. Images of high-school phys-ed flashed through my mind. The embarrassing stares I always got when the locker room was a little on the chilly side. The embarrassment. An eternity passed. Finally, the restroom door opened. The two women left. Relief washed over me. A warm wet rush filled the toilet. I reached for the toilet paper and dried myself. I stood and kicked off my shoes and panties. As quickly as I could, I retrieved the bra Aaron had bought me and put it on. The satin, padded cups pressed gently against my aching nipples. Even more quickly, I retrieved the skirt and camisole and put them on as well. Covered up (at last) I took my time putting on the stockings and heels. Not wishing to press my luck any further, I hurriedly stuffed my clothes back in the case and beat a hasty retreat. Once outside, I delighted in the hot dry air. (Almost) oblivious to the stares and gawks I crossed the parking lot and deposited the audit case into the trunk of my car, then proceeded to the newsstand. An older woman was working the counter, her attention focused on a copy of Better Homes and Garden. Toward the back, a couple of teenage boys were thumbing through the latest issue of some video game magazines. One of them saw me and just about broke his buddy's ribs elbowing him to "check it out"! The attention was flattering, so I decided to give them their money's worth. Bending at the waist – my butt facing their direction – I picked up the August issue of Playboy (Women of Enron), then quickly made my purchase. Next stop: the Pharmacy Shoppe. With WalMart right next door, it is beyond me how this little pharmacy manages to stay in business. But it does. Anyway, as I entered the store, I headed straight to the pharmacy window to make my selection. The pharmacist – a girl of fourteen maybe, with a body that matched – eyed me up and down, then let her gaze focus on my chest. "Like what you see?" I asked, annoyed by her attention. "Very much." she said, "I'll bet your lover really gets off fucking those." Her forwardness floored me! All I could say was: "That he does. Jealous?" "A little." she replied, "Now what can I get you?" I pointed to a package of ribbed Trojans. "Good choice." she said, as she rung up my purchase, "Have fun." "I intend to." Lastly to Lacie's Lingerie. Unlike Aaron's favorite lingerie store, Victoria's Secret, Lacie's was not so upscale. In fact, it was downright sleazy. For the most part, the outfits they stocked could best be described as: stripperesque. Flattering, for those with tight young bods, but strictly for short-term wear only. If you catch my meaning. Having grown tired with this phase of our little game, I quickly scanned the shop for their "silk scarf department". They were kept behind the counter. "Excuse me. Miss? Miss??" Annoyed by my intrusion on her sexplicit phone call, the gum-chewing twenty-something sales girl (who was dressed in an outfit even skimpier than mine) bade a "Call you back." to the person on the other end, and came over to wait on me. "Can I help you?" she said in a surprisingly polite voice. "Yes. I would like five of those silk scarves. Assorted colors." The young woman bent at the waist to pick out the scarves. Her skirt rose high along the curve of her ass. Like me, she was wearing no panties. Unlike me, her pussy was unshorn. Her pussy-lips were full and glistening. Her puckered asshole looked as if it was begging for a cock. I guess no one ever told this young slut never to bend like that when going bareback in an ultra-micro mini. Unless she wanted to flash a free show, of course ;-). As I left Lacie's, I shook my head in disbelief at the events of the last half hour or so and at how turned on I had become after my last two stops. To clarify, for those of you who may be wondering if my being "turned-on" after having been questioned so explicitly about the fuckability of my chest by another woman, coupled with the delectable shot of such a wanton puss and ass means that my sweet husband is married to a bi chick (as he calls them); well, the answer is: no. What it does mean, however, is that the confirmation of my busty look, together with the visual proof of just how unobstructed a view bending at the waist offers an attentive audience, only served to make me more than HOT in the knowledge that my two young admirers back at the newsstand, were most likely having an embarrassing time dealing with their uncontrolable hard-ons. With renewed purpose, I returned to my car and turned on my cell phone. Impatiently I waited. It seemed to take forever for the "check messages" to appear. I pressed "send" and waited. "Hello my darling." came Aaron's voice, "Twenty eight minutes to change. What were you doing in there for so long? Never mind. You can tell me later. And by the way, I just love the way your gorgeous breasts spill out of your new bra. We can discuss that later too. Your next stop is a little bar called O'Mally's at the corner of Pennsylvania and Fifth. Think you can find it? Park on the top level of the parking garage next to the Post Office. Go straight to O'Mally's and have a seat at the bar. I'll join you there. You know the rest. Turn off your cell phone and get going. And remember, follow my instructions completely or the game's over. Bye. Love you." Call it intuition (or the quasi predictability of my lover), but I knew my dear husband had to have been watching my every move. In fact, I think I would have been disappointed if he hadn't. Fifteen minutes after leaving the WalMart parking lot, I was entering the bar. After ten on Friday and Saturday nights, O'Mally's was THE place to be. The rest of the time, it was rather quiet. The decor was that of your archetypical speak-easy. Only thing, most everything – including the ornately carved massive oak bar with its heavy marble top – was brand new. To one corner, was a small stage where the live bands would perform. In front of it, the rather spacious dance floor was ringed with a dozen or so tables for four. To the left of the bar, in a dimly lit corner, three small tables for two. I sat down on one of the high bar stools and casually crossed my legs. The bar tender was twenty-something. Kind of cute, with curly black hair and even darker eyes. As he approached, his attention immediately focused on my nicely exposed chest. A long moment passed. "Hey pretty lady, what'll it be?" "Sprite? Ginger-ale?" I replied. "Into the hard stuff." he shot back, "Too bad, I could have had a good time carding you." While Mr Smooth got my drink, I turned on the stool to check out my fellow patrons. At the opposite corner of the bar were two ancient-looking men totally engrossed in the boxing match playing on the smallish TV at the back of the bar. Over by the stage, a group of four women in their early thirties. A couple tables away, four lawyer types, fiftyish. The youngest of the bunch carefully slipped off his wedding ring and put it in his pocket, then quickly downed the remainder of his drink. "Here ya go." Mr Smooth placed my glass of Sprite on a coaster and nudged it toward me. "Looks like you're getting company." "Looks that way." I replied. "Want me to get rid of him?" I smiled and seductively sucked on the straw. "No thanks. I can handle him." Reflected in the mirror behind the bar was Aaron. He smiled, and winked. The married guy sat down next to me and slowly turned my stool so that I was facing him. His left hand stroked my thigh. "Let's cut to the chase." he said, "How about you and me head back to my hotel room for a slow screw?" "I don't know." I said in my most sexy voice, "How good are you?" His hand inched up underneath my skirt, stopping short of my naked pussy. "I've never had any complaints." "I mean at explaining to your wife how you got your very married hand broken off and shoved up your sorry ass." "Icy bitch." His hand remained. "Does fifth degree black belt mean anything to you?" I said very matter-of-fact. He stared into my eyes hoping to call my bluff. I drew a deep breath and slowly blew it out. My married suitor quickly removed his touch. "Hey. No harm no foul?" he said. "Hope your wife feels that way." I said. Like a scared little kid, the suit beat a hasty retreat. Aaron shook his head in pleasant disbelief. Then motioned for me to join him at one of the cozy little tables. "What did you say to that guy?" he asked. "Nothing. I just asked him if fifth degree black belt meant anything to him." "Fifth degree black belt?" "Three time collegiate champ. Remember?" "How could I forget." "Care to see a menu?" A young girl (with a chest that made mine look small), our waitress, offered out two menus. "No thanks." Aaron said, "Bring us two of your deluxe combinations. And a tall glass of water." "Be right out." she said. "Babe?" Aaron said, "Put both your hands on the table and keep them there." Seductively he stuck out his tongue and wet the first three fingers of his right hand. "Spread your legs for me." Before I knew what was happening, Aaron's talented fingers were working their magic on my hot little clit. "Dare me to make you cum?" "Here? You wouldn't!" Aaron drove the whole length of his touch deep inside me and began the most delicious finger-fuck imaginable. "Why not?" he whispered, "You've wanted to cum since you left home this morning. Haven't you?" I hated to admit it, but he was right. The only thing, this was the first time we'd ever tried anything like this in public. I took a long drink, emptying my glass. "Give me your best shot." Talk about getting exactly what you ask for! Almost instantly, my dear love's magic little cocks were driving me close to the edge. I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep from screaming out how fabulous the sensations were that had started washing over me. Aaron sensed my impending orgasm and slowed his pace. I stared into his eyes. Mine, pleading for release. He smiled back and changed his rhythm once more. Just enough! I could feel the beads of sweat starting to form on my forehead. I bit down even harder as he slowly pushed me over the edge. Aaron withdrew his touch from me and hungrily licked my juices from his fingers. My body was weak. My face and back were soaked in sweat. I could feel my cum seeping from me. Coating my thighs. Pooling around my butt. "Good enough?" he asked. All I could do was nod, "Good. Here comes dinner. . ." After we ate, Aaron escorted me back to my car. It was funny. Even though the back of my skirt was soaked with cum for everyone to see, the aftermath of that incredible orgasm had me on cloud nine: on a plane where the looks and stares only added to it all. Somehow, we were standing next to my car. The warmest, wettest kiss we had shared in ages. "Check your messages. You know the drill." I opened my car door and sat down on the towel Aaron had thoughtfully placed for me. I started the engine and cranked the air conditioner on high. I listened to my message. "In the audit case is your new outfit, directions to our ultimate destination and a hands-free walkie talkie I borrowed from Sammy so we can keep in touch. What I want you to do, in this order, is to go to the BP Station near the turnpike and fill your tank. Pull alongside the store, got to the restroom, clean up and change clothes. Once you're ready, head out on the pike. I'll be waiting at the first pull-off." I got out of the car and retrieved the audit case. The directions were simple: take the turnpike east to Bedford. The outfit Aaron left for me to wear was even simpler: a bikini top, super short cutoffs and my old cross-trainers. I put the car in drive and headed East on 30. By the time I reached the station, a degree of modesty had returned. As did the recollection as to why I was sitting on a towel. I didn't need to look; I could still feel the sizable cum-spot on the back of my skirt. All I could do was hope that it wasn't all that noticeable. Or better still, hope that no one noticed. As luck would have it, every pump but one had someone standing there pumping gas. And lucky me, all men. As I got out of the car, the man at the pump next to mine just happened to look my way. His lecherous stare immediately focused on my cleavage-enhanced chest. Thank God for small miracles. I quickly swiped my card and waited. He continued to stare. I smiled, then nodded and began to pump my gas. It seemed to take forever to fill the tank. At last, the pump turned off. My not-so-secret admirer was still filling the tank of his pickup (and staring) as I flashed a quick, sexy smile and got into my car. Per Aaron's request, I pulled around to the side and headed for the restroom. I glanced back to see if I was out of view of my pump pal. I was. I stepped up and tried the door. Damn! It was locked, with a sign instructing you to: see the cashier. "Aaron, I'm going to get you for this!" I mumbled to myself as I tossed the audit case back into the car, and headed around front. To my pleasant surprise, the young girl behind the counter and I were the only ones in the store. Christina: Weekend Adventure "May I have the key to the ladies room?" Without looking up from her romance novel, the cashier handed me the key. As quickly as I could, I headed back to my car, retrieved the audit case, put the key in the lock and entered the relative safety of the grunginess assigned to "ladies". I locked the door behind me and began to undress down to my birthday suit, stacking my cum/ sweat drenched clothes on the ubiquitous baby-changing table. Once au naturel, I filled the basin with what passed for hot water, grabbed a handful of paper towels and began to wash-away the drying remnants of that mind-blowing orgasm. An urgent rapping shattered the calm. "Hello? Hello! Are you almost done in there?" a squeaky voice asked. It was Aaron's. "Not yet." "Need some help? Chris?" I opened the door and let my lover in. Without saying another word, Aaron spun me around so that I was facing the sink. I glanced over my shoulder to confirm the plans of my oh so HOT husband. His probing touch and rock-hard cock gave me my answer. "I was hoping you'd still be wet." "You saw to that. Now shut up and fuck me!" Needless to say, Aaron needed no further encouragement. In one, swift, luscious move, his fabulous cock filled my pussy from behind. I braced myself against the sink and raised up on my toes to give him better access. Aaron took hold of my hips and pulled me to him. I awaited his love-assault. Instead, my tease held still inside me. I ground my hips against him. Slowly, he began to take me. Ever so slowly. "Come on Aaron." I begged, "Stop the turtle-pace! Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me hard and fast! Make me cum!" My darling complied. It was surreal. I closed my eyes to revel in the moment The sound of Aaron's groin impacting my butt filled my thoughts. I opened my eyes to watch the reflection of our carnal mating in the mirror. My breasts swaying wildly. The beads of sweat trickling down Aaron's face. It was too much. My pussy contracted around that glorious cock which filled me so completely, bathing it with my juices. The signal was received. We began cumming together. Twenty incredible minutes had passed since I'd finished pumping gas. Being the gentleman that he is, Aaron returned the restroom key for me, saving me the embarrassment of having to make excuses for having taken so long. A good thing. When he returned to our cars, the tears of laughter were running down his cheeks. When I asked him why, he said that as he turned to go out the door, the little cock-tease of a cashier called after him: "Hope you two had a good time." We did! Overall, our trip to Bedford was rather uneventful. Except for the half hour when three truckers took turns riding alongside of me, staring through the moon roof of my Taurus at my nearly exposed chest. Even though Aaron tried his best to convince me to take off my top and give them an unobstructed view (now you know why he borrowed the radios), the fear of getting stopped by a State Trooper, overruled him. I mean, after all, if Aaron had wanted everyone to see my boobs, he'd have put a JPEG on the Internet. Right? Anyway, after exiting the turnpike, I followed Aaron another five miles down some very windy roads to the Sunny Meadows Bed & Breakfast. The place was idyllic. A farmstead built in 1780. Our favorite time in history. The parking lot was the lower level of a newly constructed barn, meant to look like the original. After we got out of our cars, Aaron handed me the blouse and skirt I had worn to work, and told me to, "change quickly". I did, setting a new record of a minute and a half for stripping off my top and shorts, and replacing them with blouse and skirt. Just in time too, for as I buttoned that last button, a young man named Josh, dressed in eighteenth century clothing, came down the steps to escort us to his horse-drawn carriage and drive us to the log cabin where we would be spending the weekend. To give you a bit of a history lesson about the place, the McGuire family had begun construction on the one-room log house in which we stayed in the fall of 1780. As the family grew, they soon abandoned the quaint little place in favor of more spacious accommodations a little closer to the spring. The cabin was not forgotten, though. James McGuire – the oldest son – converted it into a carpentry shop which operated as such until the end of the civil war. From that point on, the history became quite vague. During the 1920s, rumor was that it housed the family still. In the 1940s, it was back to a carpentry shop. From 1960 to 1995, it stood empty. In 1995, the lean-to was rebuilt and the old cabin became the most sought after room at the bed and breakfast. (To protect the owners' privacy, names have been changed.) On with the story. By the time Aaron and I got settled in, it was close to nine o'clock. The crickets were singing, and night was rapidly approaching. Although it was still early, we were both tired, and agreed to call it a day. After one last slow-ride. The next morning, I awoke around eight. It was a gorgeous day! Aaron was already showered and dressed. "Good morning beautiful." he said. I stretched and yawned. "Good morning lover." "You have fifteen minutes to shower and dress, or we'll miss our ride to breakfast." Reluctantly, I crawled out of bed and took my naked self to the bathroom. "I hope you left me some hot water." I whined. "Plenty. Now get a move on! I don't want to be late for breakfast." The warm water cascading down from the overhead shower felt just like a gentle summer rain. I closed my eyes and let the soothing spray pour over me; losing myself in the moment. It was heaven. Reality: a gentle soapy caress down between my breasts. I opened my eyes and stared at the shadowy figure on the other side of the shower curtain. I let my hands glide down Aaron's intrusive arm, gently scooping the sea sponge from his outreached hand. "Five minutes." was all he said. Not wishing to spoil any surprises that Aaron might have planned, I fought myself awake and quickly finished the job my darling had halfheartedly begun. When I finished, and stepped from the shower, Aaron was waiting with my towel. Lovingly, he dried me. My hair. Back. Breasts. Legs. Pussy. "Your clothes are laid out on the bed." he said, delivering a light "smack" to my exposed butt, "Get dressed. I don't want to miss our ride, or breakfast." Although I would have much preferred to drag Aaron back to bed – and do anything but sleep – I hurried into the other room and began to get dressed: thong panties, wonder-bra, khaki walking shorts, white bouse and cross trainers. In a way, I was sort of disappointed in the outfit Aaron had selected. I mean, considering the fact that the outfits he had me wear the night before bordered on the nothing-at-all side, I had figured (hoped) the game of dress up would just continue on through the weekend. Guess I guessed wrong. By the time I finished putting on my shoes, Josh had arrived with his carriage to take us to breakfast. From there, we got in Aaron's Escape and headed in to the sleepy little town of Bedford for a day of antiquing, followed by dinner in the Jean Bonnet Tavern. When we returned to our eighteenth-century cabin, it was still early, and I was anything but tired. Good thing. "You know, Chris; something just occurred to me. You haven't checked your cell phone for messages today. Why don't you do it now?" I got up from the comfort of my rocking chair and went into the cabin to get my cell phone out of my purse. I turned it on and retrieved my messages. The first – unexpected – was Rachel, telling me that I wasn't the only one having a fuckingly fabulous weekend, and that she never knew she could cum so hard or so often. The second, was Aaron: "The bag from Lacie's is in the suitcase. Take the scarves and lay them on the bed. Strip naked. Bring me one of the scarves. I'll be waiting on the porch. And please, don't even think of putting on more than your most sexy smile before you come out." Although our little getaway was located in a rather secluded section of the property, the thought of Josh happening by with a carriage load of people (catching a far too unobstructed view of me in the all-together), was almost too over-the-top for my dark, exhibitionist side. Still . . . The warm early-evening air brushed across my naked body. I handed Aaron the scarf, and stood nervously as he fucked me with his eyes. An eternity passed. Finally, my dear husband got up from his chair and took me in his arms. Our lips met. Our tongues danced. Aaron's fingertips pressed against my tight asshole, but did not penetrate. "Turn around." he said. My back to him, Aaron folded the scarf and placed it over my eyes, blindfolding me. The tip of his tongue traced the contour of my right ear. His lips brushed my cheek. He took my hand and lead me into the cabin. The door closed. The bolt turned. A few more steps. "Hold out your hands." Light pressure against my right wrist as the next scarf was tied in place. My hand was placed against my side. The free end of the scarf hung to my ankle. Light pressure against my left wrist. My right ankle. My left. Aaron's hands on my shoulders guided me against the foot of the bed. My left arm was stretched up and out; secured to the topmost corner of the pencil-post bed. My right arm; similarly stretched out. "Spread your feet as wide as you can." The tension in my arms grew as I shifted my weight from side to side, widening my stance. A slight tug against my right ankle. A few seconds passed. I tried to draw my ankle in. It was held fast. The same tug against my left ankle. That one held fast too. Aaron had often told me how beautiful he thought I would look tied, standing-spreadeagle. How he would relish having full access to my body. How erotic it would be to pleasure me in any way he saw fit. The tip of a feather traced the crown of my areola. "What took you so long in WalMart?" Aaron's probing tongue followed the feather's trail. The sensation took my breath away. "Two women came in while I was changing. I was naked. Scared they were going to look over the stall and see me. I froze. Waited till they left." "I see." My love's soft hands lifted my breasts upward. A series of warm, very-wet kisses covered the underside of my breasts. "They didn't catch you?" "No." I swallowed hard, trying to focus my thoughts on anything but the warmth building in my bosom, "Thank god." Aaron released my breasts. The feather sawed its way across my now-full outer lips. "You gave those boys in the newsstand quite a show." "You saw me?!" "Of course." The feather raked my inner thighs; its light touch chilling me, covering me with goose bumps. "I'm curious. When you left the pharmacy, you didn't seem too rattled. Didn't Gina comment on your cleavage?" "You know her? Well enough to have her ask if ‘my lover really gets off fucking my tits'?!" I don't know if it was shock or unadulterated jealously that snapped me back, but whatever it was, my full attention was focused on his response. "She's a new client." Aaron replied calmly, "Very outgoing, and very guy-like when it comes to telling dirty jokes. The line about me fucking your tits, as you put it, was her idea. All I asked her to do was try and embarrass you by making some off-the-cuff comment about your cleavage." "She did a pretty good job. For a minute there, I thought she was trying to seduce me!" "Maybe she was." The bed creaked. Aaron's fingertips snaked from my shoulders to my butt. A warm kiss singed the small of my back. The well-lubed head of a small dildo pressed against my unsuspecting asshole. I tried to resist the gentle pressure, but soon my wanton ass gave in. Inch by inch, my butt became filled with the imposter. Another warm kiss to the small of my back. "I'm curious." Aaron said, "The girl who waited on you in Lacie's. What was she wearing?" As if trying to sneak it from me, Aaron eased the intruder back. With even more stealth, he eased it back in. Again. And again. And again. "Well?" "A tube top . . ." "What color?" "Red." Aaron's pace quickened. "Go on." "White platform shoes . . . with eight inch heels." The bed creaked again. Momentarily, the butt-fucking dildo held still inside me. Aaron's hot breath against my aching pussy nearly made me cum. "Go on." His lips molded to me. His tongue glanced my clit. The butt-fuck resumed. "A blue micro mini . . . with nothing underneath." "You saw her pussy?" "Yes." "Describe it." Aaron's talented tongue began to work its magic. Coupled with the rhythmic motion of that slippery little dildo, I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. Somehow, I managed to choke out an answer. "Her outer lips were a really dark shade of pink . . . almost brownish . . . Oh god!" The first wave of orgasm began building deep inside me. Aaron knew it, and deprived me of his fabulous tongue. "Tell me more." he said. I tried to compose myself. "She didn't shave . . . her pubes were . . . blonde . . ." Aaron concentrated his attention on dildo-fucking my butt. The sensation was almost more than I could stand. "Could you see her asshole?" he asked. "Yes . . ." "And?" "It was small . . . and tight looking." "Rumor has it that her clit is pierced. Did you get a good enough view to tell?" As if to focus my attention, Aaron began to lightly suck on my clit. "It was." I managed to choke out, "With a little gold ring . . ." Ever so slowly, Aaron pulled all but the head of the dildo from my butt, then left it hanging. Using two fingers, he held my pussy wide open. His lips pressed hard against me. His tongue curled around my clit and began a rapid-fire assault. I felt the dildo slip from my butt. I heard it land on Aaron's bare chest. I could hold back no longer. "Ugh . . .Ughhh . . . Ughhhhhhhhh!" Aaron untied the scarves from the bed posts. First my ankles. Then my wrists. My body was drained. Just like my pussy. My legs could barely support me. Aaron took me in his arms and gently laid me on the bed and removed the scarves from my ankles. To my surprise, he moved my legs together, then took one of the scarves and wrapped it tightly around my knees. The other, around my upper thighs. The game was not yet over. I lay still, almost too weak from orgasm to move, wondering what would cum next. I didn't have to wait very long. A steady pull on the scarf attached to my right wrist drew my arm upward, toward the headboard of the bed. A few sharp tugs on the scarf told me that it was held secure. A long moment passed as Aaron walked around to the other side of the bed. A steady pull on the scarf attached to my left wrist drew that arm upward as well. Another few sharp tugs on the scarf told me that it was held secure to the headboard as well. Aaron lifted my head, and removed my blindfold. The orangish rays of the setting sun, filtered by the fine lace curtains, filled the room with a warm glow. Aaron leaned forward and kissed me. "Having fun, babe?" he asked. I smiled and nodded. My love took the scarf and walked to the foot of the bed. Quickly, he tied one end around my ankles, then pulled me down so that my feet where resting against the footboard. One last tug told me I wasn't going anywhere. "It was kinda prophetic; Gina asking you if I enjoy fucking your boobs." he said. "Yeah?" Aaron tugged opened his jeans. His beautiful cock spilled out. "Yeah." he said, "From the very beginning, the vision of you . . . tied just like this . . . that pretty face . . . those long, dark curls . . . painted with cum . . . was my driving force. The perfect, climax to our little adventure." As I lay there . . . bound to his pleasure . . . my mind filled with the very erotic image of his gorgeous cock popping out from between my captive breasts to spray its delicious load . . . I was forced to agree with my imaginative love. After all, the game I had agreed to play was ruled by an intermingling of shared fantasies. His: to have me at his whim. Mine: to relinquish all control of my inhibitions; and desires. Aaron knelt astride my waist. His knees pressed gently; yet firmly, against my ribs. He slowly removed the cap from the bottle of massage oil. The scent of strawberries filled the room as my darling diligently coated my breasts. Aaron capped the bottle and placed it on the night stand. His soft hands caressed my breasts, working in the lotion. He edged forward, resting his hard cock between my breasts. His thumbs pressed hard against my thickening nipples. His fingertips slid down the sides of my breasts. Light pressure held me against his cock. Slowly, he began to fuck my boobs. The feeling was delicious. His strokes were long, and slow. With each, the head of that gorgeous cock came tantalizingly close to my outstretched tongue. So close; yet so far away. He held still. A wicked smile. His. Even firmer pressure against my super-hard nipples: forcing them inward. I squealed. In pain/ pleasure. Aaron backed-off. Lightly, he began to circle my areolas. "Did I hurt you?" he asked. "No." He began to fuck my breasts once more. My attention divided. A quest to taste that elusive cock. That damnedable fire burning in my nipples. Aaron knew my body far to well. His thumbs traced round and round my areolas. Occasional, paying casual attention to my thickening nipples. The pace of thrusting between my breasts quickened. My pussy began to plead jealously for his cock. For his touch. For release of any kind. I struggled to free my hands. The scarves held me tight. His thumbs flicked my nipples forward and back. Incessantly. I squirmed beneath his weight in a vain attempt to free myself from his passionate touch. His knees pressed hard against my ribs. Suddenly, my darling's pace quickened to a fevered pitch. Each stroke seemingly faster than the last. His fingertips bit-hard into my super-sensitive breasts. Without warning, a stream of white-hot cum glanced off my right cheek and nestled into my hair. Another quick thrust. A second stream of cum danced across my forehead. I opened my mouth wide. I struggled to position myself in line with his next load. Yet another thrust. Yet another load, this one searing my throat. Frustration! One more thrust. Several tasty tidbits found my lips; the bulk sprayed my hair. The last. Reward! His complete load landed fully in my hungry mouth. Aaron released his hold on me and moved from the bed. He began to tug open the knot on the scarf that held my feet. My struggling had pulled it tight. Finally, it came undone. Next to be freed were my knees, followed by my thighs. His all-knowing touch stroked my clit. I came instantly. The rush was incredible! I ground myself against his pleasure-giving hand. Wave after wave of orgasm washed over me . . . My wrists were free. I think. I was too week to move. Aaron took me in arms and kissed me hard. His wonderful cum began to trickle down. His gentle caress rubbed it in to my flushed cheeks. If only this moment could last forever. . . Sunday morning, I awoke first. Aaron's beautiful cock lay limp against his thigh. I slipped my fingers around his shaft and began to jack-him-off. Almost instantly, he began to grow long and hard. He stirred, and rolled on his back. As quickly as I could, I mounted him. His eyes still closed he brought his hands up to my waist and held me as I took him for a slow ride. What wonderful way to wake-up. As for the rest of the day, well, it only got better. By the time Aaron had to leave for his continuing ed conference in Hershey, we had made love a total of six more times. My pussy was sore from all the fucking we had done; as was Aaron's cock, I'm sure. How many times had I cum in the last three days? Not enough ;-) I mean, can you ever cum enough?