7 comments/ 16007 views/ 6 favorites The Fourth Rule By: mindventure We had done it. Put it all together. Another weekend away. Strange, how two people can get so entrenched in the trivia of staying alive that a weekend together would require so much planning and footwork. That we had managed this one was due to Laura's efforts. She is forty, beautiful, competent and determined to have her own way about many things, one of which was this weekend. Laura was driving as usual. She always becomes so excited by our trips that she is too keyed up to be a good passenger. We'd determined long ago that the first leg of the journey was hers to drive. She drove fast and well. The little red convertible roadster perfectly suits her looks and temperament. I had bought it for her on a whim several years back and knew I had done well. Neither of us had ever regretted the choice. The little car had become synonymous with good and exciting times. Watching her drive, both hands on the wheel at the ten-and-two positions, expertly downshifting into turns and accelerating smartly back out, I was struck by the picture she presented - as always artfully contrived on these trips to invoke memories of past pleasures and stimulate anticipation of things to come. Wearing a short flower-print dress and high heels with ankle straps, "come fuck me shoes" as she calls them, her legs were tanned and bare. The dress buttoned full length up the front, a style I had come to appreciate. I was unable to tell what, if any, underwear she might be wearing. If she wished me to know, I'd be shown or allowed to find out before the drive ended. I already suspected she was braless because of the way her breasts responded to the motion of the car. It is always difficult to tell with Laura, she has the body tone of a well-endowed teenager. Tall, long-legged and high-breasted, she looks thirty. With her thick auburn hair and a face out of some fashion magazine, she is a knockout by any standard. And she knows it. Laura makes the most of her attributes in a sultry and unbelievably sexy way. She also talks like a stevedore during sex and is naturally and shamelessly orgasmic. As we sped up Route 9, destination known only to Laura, my mind drifted back over our weekends and the simple rules that govern them. You see, the primary purpose of these trips is sex. Wild, uninhibited, restorative sex. We both have active imaginations and each trip is an opportunity to act out our sexual fantasies. At first, we had planned nothing specific. But over the past couple of years we had begun a more purposeful approach where one or the other of us would plan and prepare an elaborate scenario. By unspoken agreement we took turns. This trip, and its fantasy, was on Laura. There are a few rules. Rule One declares that whoever has ownership of the sexual rites for the trip is completely in charge. The other person, or "victim" as we jokingly refer to the passive partner, is strictly along for the ride. The planner thinks up the fantasy, provides any props required and directs all activities for the weekend. Everything is kept secret until revealed at the proper time. Rule Two requires the victim to cooperate completely, doing exactly as instructed to allow the fantasy to reach its intended conclusion. Rule Three permits and encourages any fantasy scenario that does not cause excessive physical pain or embarrassment. Rule Four is the most important of them all. It mandates that we never question each other about the fantasies themselves; they are shared and enjoyed in total trust as they occur but their origins remain sealed forever. We might discuss how successfully a fantasy played out, but probing questions are not allowed. That simple rule allows complete enjoyment without fear of embarrassment or recrimination later. Early on, I was the leader in these games, with Laura reluctant to expose her private longings. But over time she had slowly understood that I was not threatened by her fantasies. Once she realized they were as exciting to me as to her, she overcame her inhibitions and became a willing and enthusiastic partner. Learning to act out our fantasies lent a new and more satisfying dimension to our sex lives. Laura had become increasingly inventive so I knew that whatever she had in mind for this trip would provide incredible sexual tension and shattering release for us both, probably several times, before the weekend was over. The drive itself is an important part of each weekend, a sort of foreplay. We have fun, make the most of our time and build incredible anticipation. We have also learned to keep a watchful eye for truckers. The roadster is in full view of passing trucks when the top is down. Carrying on some of our activities without being observed just adds to the excitement. On a trip last year, with Laura's face purposefully pressed into my lap, we had nearly caused a multiple car pileup after losing track of our surroundings. Laura often props her feet on the dash and uses a vibrator when she is the passenger. Fortunately, most of our trips use secondary roads where traffic is light. Although a fantasy occasionally requires or permits the passenger to touch the driver, such activity is the exception rather than the rule. But I always try. So, as usual, that Saturday morning I decided to check my theories about Laura's underwear. Turning sideways in my seat, I reached out to lightly stroke her naked thigh. Without so much as a glance in my direction, she pushed my hand sharply away. Several more attempts, each with the same result, told me two things; something about this fantasy dictated a hands-off policy, at least for the time being, and the bra-and-panty question was to remain unanswered until she decided otherwise. So for the first leg of our journey that day I occupied myself by reviewing previous weekends as I studied Laura in profile. She really is a beautiful woman and it excited me to know that I was going to get laid in some unique and exciting manner later that night. As my thoughts drifted over the past, a jumble of sexually explicit images came to mind. Laura the prostitute, allowing me to pick her up in the hotel bar. Later, after an hour and a half of red-light-district sex, demanding and receiving a hundred dollars for her favors. I never saw the hundred dollar bill again. She earned it. Laura, announcing quietly to me in a crowded nightclub that she had forgotten to wear panties with her garter belt, seamed black stockings and red spike heels. She spent much of the evening showing me the tops of her stockings and a lot of bare thigh. By the time we left after midnight, I was so aroused I forced her into the back seat of the car before we left the parking garage - there to confirm she had indeed forgotten her panties and making her pay the price for her omission. Laura, blindfolded and tied to the four corners of the bed, face down, arms and legs extended, while I fucked her again and again with the two vibrating dildos. The large one thrusting deeply up between her thighs, the smaller probing her ass. Her orgasms came in waves that night, her cries competing with the sounds of the surf near the remote beach cabin we had rented for the weekend. Laura the drab librarian in the old, dusty library a hundred miles from home. With severe hairdo, horn rimmed glasses, cardigan sweater and sensible shoes, she was the perfect spinster. Pursued relentlessly along the stacks, finally cornered in a storeroom and molested with probing fingers until she lost the will to resist. Then, abducted under the very nose of the head librarian, led away to a night of sexual awakenings. Laura, lying naked on the motel bed, describing in exquisite detail her activities with a fantasy lover while I brought her to orgasm again and again with my tongue. Later, roles reversed, forcing me to tell a similar tale while she returned the favor. *** A change in the engine note broke my reverie. Time to stop for lunch and a change of drivers. We had to sit in the car for a few minutes until my erection subsided to manageable proportions. Swinging her legs out of the car one at a time, then bending forward to grasp my offered hand, the mystery of her underwear was solved. Suspicions confirmed, I escorted her protectively into the small, streamside restaurant. After lunch it would be my turn to drive. Later, continuing north at Laura's direction, I held the car to a steady pace. Laura ignored me. Reclining the passenger seat slightly, she rested in peaceful repose, eyes shut, hands slightly curled and resting in her lap. I thought she was dozing until her hands started to stir. In slow motion she began to run her hands up and down her thighs. After a while, her right hand sensuously tracing the curves inside her thighs through the material of her dress, she moved her left hand up to lightly stroke her breasts. My erection was immediate. I had seen this many times before. Laura's masturbatory techniques are unbelievably erotic. In a world entirely her own, she brings herself slowly and gracefully to orgasm. She is a natural exhibitionist who has refined female masturbation into an art form. Watching her is mind-blowing. As I tried to keep one eye on the road and one on Laura, she slowly parted her legs. Her dress had ridden to mid-thigh. Each motion of her hand now brought the hem fractionally higher until, after an eternity, the dark triangle and creamy skin between her tan lines was exposed. She began to comb her fingers lightly through the silky hair. Gentle, exploratory probing followed. She started a rhythm where slow insertion of her middle finger was followed by withdrawal and a gliding motion up to and around her clitoris. Reinsertion of the finger followed and the pattern repeated. Laura took her time. After several minutes, she began to slowly open and close her legs in time with the movements of her fingers. A slight arch of her back and tiny pelvic thrusts followed. A small cry escaped her lips, barely audible over the engine note. I knew the signs. Laura's cries during sex always begin as small sounds of frustration accompanied by a frown until she reaches an acceptable level of excitement. There, she will teeter on the brink until she can't stand the tension any longer. Her orgasms during intercourse are usually accompanied by gutter-talk demands to "fuck me, fuck me harder!", or something of the sort, followed by unintelligible gasps and cries of release. When masturbating, she vocalizes less but can sustain a high level of arousal for lengthy periods because she is in complete control. I watched as her left hand moved down from her breast to assist the efforts of her right. Parting herself with the fingers of one hand, Laura began a more urgent rhythm, still inserting, withdrawing and circling with one finger. When a second finger was employed to manipulate both sides of her clitoris simultaneously, I knew she was close. Her legs remained open now and her pelvic motion more pronounced. As she moved with greater intensity, she began to softly chant "Oh, oh, oh..." Then, suddenly arching her back, she ceased all motion except the probing fingers. With a muted cry and a slight shudder she fell back into the seat, breathing heavily. I didn't think I was going to make it. Once, on an earlier trip, I had whipped the car onto a deserted country road seconds after witnessing one of Laura's demonstrations. Sliding the car to a halt on a shaded pullover, I had attacked her in a frenzy, violating the fantasy rules. Although I knew she had been secretly pleased with her affect on me, I never did it again. On this particular morning in early June, a no-touch rule was clearly in effect so I managed, with great difficulty, to keep my hands to myself. Of its own will, the car had slowed to half the legal limit during the final seconds of Laura's display as my attention was understandably diverted. Fortunately, there was no other traffic on the road. Controlling myself, I brought the car back to speed and tried to concentrate on my driving. Laura's breathing slowed as she tugged her dress back into place and returned her hands to their original relaxed position in her lap. I knew she would drift off into a light sleep. By her standards the orgasm had been a small one, just enough to take the edge off. It was a good sign. If she had become so excited thinking about the night ahead that she needed interim relief, I was in for a treat later. The remainder of the drive was considerably less dramatic. Laura's directions eventually led us to a long, tree-lined dirt road that wound for miles back into the mountains, finally arriving at a small lake. Evergreens spilled down from the surrounding hills to enclose the water on all sides. Cabins dotted the shore at intervals a hundred yards or so. One near the road was marked by a carved sign that declared it to be the "Office." Laura announced she would wait in the car while I checked in. I entered the office to find it deserted. A small bell on the counter invited me to ring for service. At the sound, a woman's voice called from an adjoining room. A moment or so later the voice took on added definition as a beautiful woman of indeterminate age appeared. Eurasian, I guessed, from the slight oriental cast to her Caucasian features and the nearly straight black hair, worn waist length. She was about as tall as Laura, similarly proportioned and nearly as gorgeous. Dressed in jeans and long sleeved blouse in keeping with the cooler mountain temperatures, she was a striking woman. Laura had arranged everything on the phone. The woman had been expecting us. Our cabin on the far side of the lake had been made ready that morning, she said, by her husband. Certain that we'd find everything to our liking she assured me that ours was the most isolated, yet most nicely appointed, cabin of the lot. She was quite sure we would enjoy our weekend. As I turned to leave, a nice looking dark-haired man, about my own age and dressed in work clothes, entered the office. With a nod and friendly smile in my direction, he went behind the counter. Casually placing his arm about the woman's waist, he told me where to find kindling, firewood and a canoe near the cabin. Apparently this was the husband referred to earlier. If so, he and I were both lucky men, each married to beautiful creatures. The cabin was more than I expected. A long porch ran its entire length, facing the lake. French doors opened from the porch into a huge room with a large stone fireplace at one end, a king-sized bed and night tables with small brass lamps at the other. The bed had a beautiful brass headboard with vertical risers and a sweeping arch. Tasteful accessories occupied shelves and walls. Several oriental throw rugs adorned the polished hardwood floors. A small dining area for two was near a large window overlooking the lake. Fresh flowers had been placed about the room. The bath was spacious and modern. It was hardly a "cabin." We were both thrilled. Laura stood in the center of the room, hands on hips, looking about in concentration while I brought in bags and boxes from the car, their contents unknown to me. I suspected that she was mentally fitting the surroundings into the night's activities. By the time I finished emptying the car Laura had completed her musings and was ready to unpack. I was banished to the porch for a while so I knew she was unpacking things, critical to success of the fantasy, that I was not yet permitted to see. When I was allowed to return, I could see nothing unusual. No surprise. I knew that anything needed for later had been carefully positioned to remain unseen but available when required. Laura commanded me to go into the bathroom, shower and put on the clothing I would find there. Closing and carefully dead-bolting the French doors securely behind me, I crossed to the bathroom and did as I was told. "Clothing" turned out to be a terry cloth wraparound towel reaching from waist to mid-thigh and secured by an attached belt of similar material. Over this a knee-length robe, again made of terry cloth. Nothing else. When I emerged, Laura placed a glass of white wine into my hand and retreated to the bathroom. In my absence, she had set a table for two with fruit, wine and cheese - a favorite meal of ours. Candles glowed softly. I stood at the window watching the last glow of sunset and sipped the wine. After a time Laura appeared, beautifully made up and wearing a dark floor-length velvet robe. It had a high collar with white lace trim at neck and cuffs. It revealed nothing. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a style that accentuated her graceful neck and jaw line. She was, as always, breathtakingly beautiful. She took my hand and led me to the table. As we ate and drank slowly, Laura engaged me in small talk about a variety of topics, none of which gave the slightest clue about what was yet to come. A long while later, Laura rose from the table. Drawing the curtains, she asked me to go into the bathroom for a few minutes. I did as I was told, straining to decipher the small sounds I could hear through the door. When ready, she called softly to me. I entered the room and was commanded to halt. I did so, glancing about the room. The changes were subtle. The table had been cleared but the lighted candles remained. A small lamp on one night table cast a soft glow. A fire flickered softly, warming the room. A straight-backed chair from the dining ensemble now faced the bed about three feet from the middle, headboard to the right. Nothing else had changed. Including Laura. After tying a blindfold around my eyes Laura led me to the chair and removed my bathrobe, leaving only the terry cloth wraparound. She then gently pushed me down into the chair and ordered me to remain motionless. I did exactly as directed and would continue to do so the remainder of the night without hesitation or improvisation. The success or her fantasy would depend on it. I heard a metallic clinking sound and, seconds later, felt my ankles being secured to the legs of the chair by shackles or handcuffs of some sort. Moments afterward, my wrists were tied with soft ropes to the lower uprights of the chair back. Standing behind me, Laura removed the blindfold. I could not see her but I was able to examine my bonds. I realized immediately that escape was unlikely. My ankles were secured above the crosspieces between the chair legs. Real handcuffs had been used. My wrists were expertly tied. After testing the cuffs and ropes, it was plain that this fantasy dictated I remain bound. We had used low-key bondage techniques before. Some were constructed for escape, some were not. Whatever was going to happen tonight required only that I watch until released. That I would become highly aroused in the interim, I had no doubt. After giving me a few moments to understand the initial rules of the fantasy, Laura stepped out into the light from behind the chair. Her robe was gone. In its place was a baby doll night gown of pale blue silk trimmed with blue eyelet lace. So short it dropped only an inch or two below her breasts, the gown revealed several inches of bare midriff and a pair of brief panties, also of blue silk. Her feet were bare and she wore no jewelry. Her hair had been released to tumble luxuriously below her shoulders. She carried a glass of white wine in one hand. Ignoring me, she crossed to the bed and sat facing me on its side. Placing the wine on the nightstand nearest my chair, she swung her legs up onto the bed; leaned back on several pillows propped against the headboard and crossed her legs at the ankles. Reaching back under the pillows, she withdrew a small book. I recognized it as one of several I had bought, at her request, from an adult bookstore. I had never seen her read them but as their condition deteriorated over time, I knew that they had seen steady use. As she began to read the book I suddenly knew what this fantasy, at least in part, was all about. The Fourth Rule My job required that I travel often. I knew that Laura masturbated regularly when I was gone. Although she had masturbated many times in front of me, I always suspected there was an added dimension to the act when she was alone. It appeared as though I was about to find out. The thought quickened my pulse. I now understood why I had not yet been allowed to touch her. Her intent was to drive me wild throughout the day and into the night with erotic demonstrations. It could be hours before I would be permitted release. I knew Laura well enough to know that I would probably suffer in exquisite agony for a long time. Slowly sipping her wine, Laura read for a few minutes without any visible signs of arousal. But before long I could tell that the words in the book and her imagination were beginning to take their toll. She began a slight shifting of her hips as though trying to relieve some small discomfort. Laura had told me long ago that the beginnings of sexual excitement were always the same for her, a vague tingle deep inside and a slight wet feeling between her thighs. As the feelings began to intensify, she set her wine aside, uncrossed her ankles and parted her legs just enough to allow one hand to slip down inside her panties. Still reading, she made a soft sound as her probing fingers found their mark. Drawing her legs back to allow better access, Laura went right to work. After a moment or so she closed her eyes and discarded the book to free both hands. She would have no further use for the story, her own vivid imagination more than able to supply all the erotic images she would need. Using both hands, one to probe, one to apply pressure from outside her panties, Laura began to slowly move her hips back and forth. Her excitement grew quickly, as did mine. She was soon breathing heavily, breasts rising and falling against the small nightgown top, and I was just as soon stiffly erect. Continuing to writhe sensuously on the bed, Laura grasped her panties at each hip and slowly pulled them down and over her ankles. Now unencumbered, she reached under the pillow and removed the large vibrating dildo that had figured so prominently in other fantasy weekends. Turning on the bed to face me, she rose up on her knees and parted her legs. Holding the dildo in her left hand, she positioned it base down on the bed with the tip pointing up between her thighs. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the shaft, moaning softly as she did so. As soon as it was buried deeply inside, Laura reached down to start the vibrations. Holding the dildo in place against the bed with one hand, she began to ride up and down its length, at the same time gently rubbing her clitoris with the fingers of her free hand and crying out softly in response. Her cries became louder and more urgent as she rapidly approached orgasm. The next few seconds are still a blurred memory. Fascinated with the demonstration before me, I was initially unaware that there were others in the room. Although I had heard nothing to announce their presence, suddenly there were two people rushing toward Laura. Eyes wide with surprise and fear, she flung the vibrator aside and backed up against the headboard screaming. They were on her in an instant, one pinning her roughly down on the bed while the other quickly lashed her wrists to the brass headboard. Although she fought hard, kicking and biting at her assailants, she was no match for the two of them. It was over in seconds. It took me nearly as long to understand the threat and began to violently attack my ropes and cuffs. But Laura had done her job too well. Everything held as I struggled futilely to free myself. I was still straining against my bonds and bellowing in rage at Laura's captors when they finished their work and stepped back out of reach of her thrashing feet. It quickly became apparent that our situation was hopeless so we both began to quiet down. The cabin was too remote for other tenants at the lake to hear us so screaming for help was useless. As Laura began to examine her bonds, I surveyed the scene as calmly as possible under the circumstances. Laura had been secured with wide leather bands buckled about her wrists. Thick leather thongs attached to the bands had been tied to separate uprights on the brass headboard. About six inches of slack had been left in the thongs - enough to allow her hands some freedom of motion but not enough to allow escape. I watched as she strained against the leather. Reaching up with each hand to grab the bars, she tugged and twisted in vain. The headboard was old and solid. She was hopelessly constrained. Realizing the futility of further effort, Laura lay quietly, a look of apprehension on her face. The struggle had caused her nightgown to ride up over her breasts, exposing them fully. I remember thinking she looked very sexy and appealing stretched out on her back in nearly complete nakedness, hands tied above her head, legs crossed tightly at the ankles in a gesture of defiant modesty. I turned my attention to Laura's attackers and was astonished to realize that one was a woman. Studying them more closely, I saw that both wore face masks that covered them from cheekbones to forehead in costume party-style. Each wore dark clothing; watch caps for them both, dark pants and shirt for him, short dark skirt, blouse and stockings of some sort for her. Illogically, she wore high heels with open toes and ankle straps. He wore simple Topsiders. Still disoriented, I realized that only a minute or two had elapsed since they had burst through the French doors. In that short time they had constrained a very resistant Laura, closed the doors and returned to the center of the room. They completely ignored me, apparently realizing from the beginning that I was no threat. Clearly, they had a means of studying us from outside before they entered the cabin. Much later I would think a great deal about how we came to be selected as targets and the ease with which they had gained entry. Once Laura was immobilized they paid no more attention to her. Standing together near the foot of the bed at Laura's feet and slightly off to my left, they each removed their watch caps. Dumbfounded, I saw the long black shiny hair tumble free. Mask or no mask, the woman from the office was easily recognizable. Already knowing what I would find, I turned my attention to him and saw her dark-haired husband. Laura seemed as astonished as I. Although she had not seen the woman, I was certain she had seen her husband as he entered the office while I was checking in. Their next act was nearly as surprising as their arrival. As Laura and I stared in disbelief, the woman stepped into his arms and kissed him with passion. Returning her kisses with equal intensity, he began to caress her body, sliding his hands down along her flanks to cup her ass in his hands and pull her tightly against him. She removed her arms from around his neck and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, stopping occasionally to slide her hands inside and run them up and down his chest. Still holding her against him, he started a slow rotation of his hips against hers. She parted her legs slightly in response and began to move with him. Watching them, Laura and I slowly overcame our fear and started to relax. As they performed their strange dance only a foot or so away, we watched in growing interest. Apparently, we were intended as an audience for an erotic performance of their own and Laura had been bound only to prevent her from interfering. Why we had been selected to watch this show of eroticism I couldn't imagine, but I was quickly becoming fascinated. While she pulled the shirt tail free of his slacks, the man slowly brought his hands up to the small of her back. As he did so, her skirt lifted momentarily to reveal only black stockings and matching garter belt under her skirt. With a flash of tawny bare skin, her clothing fell back into place. Gathering her blouse in his fingers, he pulled it roughly out of her waistband. As he began to undo the buttons, she dropped her hands to his zipper and slowly tugged it down. Reaching inside with one hand, she grasped him firmly. He responded with a low groan and pulled her blouse open to reveal two beautiful breasts, smaller than Laura's but just as firm and pink-tipped. Watching them, the erection I had lost suddenly when we were first attacked returned in a rush. I glanced over at Laura to find her equally mesmerized by the scene before us. Long since over her concern, she was now completely relaxed, watching this strange couple with growing interest and arousal. She too had become convinced that we were being offered a rare treat. Outside of X-rated movies, neither of us had ever actually watched another couple having sexual intercourse. Intercourse seemed the only logical conclusion to what we were now witnessing. As the woman continued to move her hand inside his pants, he cupped her breasts in his hands and gently massaged the nipples. Closing her eyes and dropping her head back to allow her long hair to hang free, she moaned with pleasure. My erection surged to full size in response. She was exotic and beautiful. Although still nearly fully clothed, I had seen enough of her body to know she was perfectly formed. Her legs were long and tapered, her waist small, hips narrow, skin and muscle tone flawless. I could hardly wait to watch him remove the remainder of her clothing. Breaking free of his touch, the woman removed her hand from inside his pants, sat on the edge of the bed near Laura's feet and pulled him forward by the belt. The bulge of his erection showed plainly. As he removed his shirt to reveal muscular chest and arms, she unbuckled his belt and unfastened the waistband of his slacks. Gently pulling his pants below his knees, she freed a very large well-formed cock. Not yet fully erect, he was a good seven inches long and two inches or so in diameter. I glanced quickly at Laura and saw her eyes fixed on him in stunned amazement. With Laura and I both looking on, the woman grasped him firmly with both hands and began to caress the tip of him with tongue and lips. His erection surged to full size, gaining at least an inch in length and a half inch in thickness. I stared in envy. After a few moments she rose to her feet. As she stood, he stepped out of his shoes and slacks to stand before her completely naked except for the mask. Although they must have known they would be recognized, they apparently wanted to maintain an illusion of secrecy. The effect was intriguing. In a puzzling move, the woman stepped back a pace, glanced up at him, smiled slightly and nodded her head. It was plain she had sent him a silent message of consent but the meaning was unclear. No one had uttered a word since their arrival. Except for Laura's initial screams, my earlier ravings and the low passionate moans of the masked man and woman, the room had been nearly silent. All communication, between Laura and me and between this strange couple, had been by facial expression and body language alone. Having completed her message, the woman stepped around behind my chair to leave her husband standing alone beside the bed. With a sudden movement, the masked man turned and grasped the insides of Laura's legs just above the knees to force them apart. For the second time that night she fought with ferocity, crying out in frustration and rage. Once again she was no match for the strength of her attacker. In a matter of seconds he was kneeling between her thighs, using his hands to pin her legs down on top of his own. With her wrists securely lashed to the headboard and her legs tightly held, she remained helpless. Once again I struggled violently against my bonds but nothing had changed. I was still as immobilized as though wearing a straight jacket. I gave up in despair. We were both stunned. In that brief and electrifying moment, Laura had been transformed from fascinated spectator into unwilling and enraged participant. What had been stirring, erotic play had become bizarre and sinister. Laura was certain to be raped and I could do nothing to prevent it. Laura's struggles continued for a minute or two as she tried to fight her attacker. But she was no match for him and her efforts became weaker with each passing second. Finally, breasts heaving with exertion, Laura went limp, lying in defeat with her legs draped over the masked man's thighs, the certainty of her rape now accepted. Alert to her surrender, he moved her thighs farther apart. Leaning forward, weight supported on one outstretched arm, he grasped his cock and positioned it against Laura's pussy. With a short quick thrust, he entered her a few inches. She immediately stiffened and cried out sharply. In spite of her earlier arousal, Laura was completely unprepared for his size. At her cry he stopped his thrust and held his position inside her, apparently to allow her body time to adjust. With that one gesture of consideration, I knew he had no wish to hurt her and I stopped fearing for her safety. After a few moments, he began a very slow and gentle stroke, still penetrating only a few inches. As her body slowly relaxed and she returned to her limp and uncooperative posture, he shifted to support his weight on both arms and began to deepen his insertion slightly with each thrust. I watched in angry fascination as her body started to accommodate him, soon taking his full length and breadth without apparent discomfort. When he was able to enter her completely, he began a slow, deep cadence. Easy withdrawal, barely remaining inside her, followed by a gentle thrust to bury himself completely again. Eyes closed, head turned toward me, her body shifted upward slightly toward the headboard under the pressure of each stroke, causing her firm breasts to bounce slightly in counter-motion. In spite of my outrage, I found the scene deeply erotic and was dismayed to find myself growing erect at the sight. Feelings of guilt, rage and frustration, at him and at myself, swirled in my head as I became increasingly aroused at the sight of another man fucking my wife three feet in front of my eyes. I stared in grudging admiration and increasing sexual agitation as he continued to fuck Laura at the same steady pace for several long minutes. The duality of my thoughts was shocking to me. I hated what was happening yet I was excited beyond belief at the sight. As I watched in fascination, I slowly realized that Laura was beginning to react slightly. It started as a barely perceptible upward tilt of her pelvis in answer to each of his thrusts. Moments later I saw that his shaft glistened slickly at each withdrawal. Laura was lubricating heavily. The unmistakable slippery, wet, repetitive sounds of two aroused people fucking became distinctly audible. At first, Laura herself was probably unaware of the changes. But not for long. Studying her more closely, I saw a frown forming on her face as she struggled to remain still. He noticed her reaction as well and immediately started to move with greater purpose. Increasing both the speed and force of his thrusts, he began to impact her body sharply at the completion of each stroke. Laura bit off a low moan. Her eyes fluttered open as she realized what was happening to her. Unable to resist, she cried out in answer to his change of cadence. Alarmed and embarrassed at her own reaction, she glanced over at me apologetically. Without words, she told me her body was betraying her with a will of its own but that she would never, ever, betray me in her mind. I knew she meant it. I also knew she had no control over what was happening to either of us so I chose to release her from the guilt that showed so plainly on her face. I nodded to her and allowed the briefest of smiles to cross my lips. Glancing down pointedly at my own stiffness, now clearly visible where my wraparound had parted, I let her know that I was having body-betrayal problems of my own. Laura's eyes locked with mine for a long moment to assure herself she had not misunderstood. Once convinced, she signaled her comprehension by grasping a brass headboard bar firmly with each hand and turning her head to look directly up into the masked face poised above hers. Without taking her eyes from his, she drew her knees back slightly, opened her thighs in surrender, and began to answer his thrusts with those of her own. Her message unmistakable, he responded with still another increase in speed and force as she closed her eyes and turned her face back toward me. Laura knew she would cum soon. Knowing I liked to watch her face during orgasm, she had decided to share her experience with me even though a stranger was to be the cause of her arousal and climax. The room filled with the sounds of flesh striking flesh as he fucked her with relentless, powerful strokes. Laura arched her back and rocked her hips with an identical tempo, meeting each of his thrusts. After a couple of minutes, she stopped moving and began to draw her legs up alongside his surging hips. A low moan escaped her lips and her breathing accelerated rapidly. I knew she would cum within seconds. As if reading my mind, she began a throaty, repetitive moan as her leg and stomach muscles quivered in orgasmic spasms. Her cries became higher pitched and her shuddering intensified as she strained against him in release. With a final cry, her body went slack and she fell, trembling, back onto the bed, her breath coming in sobs. In shock, I realized her attacker had not finished. He paused only long enough to reach under Laura's legs and re-position them to drape over his outstretched arms. In this position she was completely vulnerable; thighs forced wide apart, pussy perfectly exposed, knees back nearly in line with her breasts. Within a second or two he had resumed thrusting deeply into her. Laura had no time to recover from her first orgasm before he began to propel her, protesting weakly in exhaustion, into her second. As the incessant pounding persisted, she began to whimper, shaking her head from side to side and begging him to stop. Ignoring her pleas, he continued to hammer relentlessly into her. Finally, drowning in sensation, she cried out, "Oh God yes! Fuck me, fuck me harder!" Her attacker obliged with savage energy. Crying out continuously, her beautiful face reflecting intense arousal, Laura began to shudder violently against him as wave after wave of orgasmic spasms wracked her body. Finally at the end of his incredible endurance, the masked man slowed to a stop, withdrew slightly, threw his head back and ejaculated into her with great pulsing contractions. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips and he collapsed, chest heaving, on top of her. I heard a soft cry behind me. I had completely forgotten the woman during the incredible performance unfolding in front of me. Suddenly, she knelt beside my chair, naked except for her mask and high heeled black shoes. Breathing heavily with excitement from what she had just witnessed, she untied my wraparound and began to fondle my erection. I groaned involuntarily. Glancing up to see if Laura or her husband had noticed, I discovered him watching us intently. It was suddenly plain to me why the woman had positioned herself off to my side. All part of their plan, her location was carefully calculated to ensure he and Laura had a complete view of our activities. I began to hope I would get a revenge of sorts on him before the night was over. Rolling off Laura onto the bed, his cock now limp and dripping, the masked man propped himself on one elbow to see over her still-heaving breasts. His movement disturbing her, Laura opened her eyes and looked over at me. It took a second for the scene before her to register. When it did, her only reaction was to arch one eyebrow at me and smile a little. Considering her earlier performance, she could hardly protest, and she knew it. The Fourth Rule I had been erect so long and in such a state of physical and emotional excitement that I was certain it would all be over for me soon. As the woman expertly stroked me, I felt the rising tightness inside that always signals the onset of ejaculation. Sensing my rapidly building tension, she suddenly gave the base of my cock a brief, powerful squeeze. To my surprise, I immediately lost the urge to cum. When she was sure of success in halting my spasms, she began to lightly caress me with the tips of her fingernails. Once more I knew it was over and once more she brought me back from the brink. Again and again, using a different technique each time, she pushed me right to the edge of orgasm and then retrieved me, trembling, for more. Although I had heard of such delaying methods, I had never experienced anything like it. She was incredible. In a graceful motion the woman rose up on her knees, leaned over and took me into her mouth. Throwing my head back in surprise and pleasure, I groaned aloud. I could feel her tongue as it flicked around the head of my cock, sending a strong tingling feeling racing up and down the small of my back. As before, she repeatedly brought me back from certain ejaculation only to drive me mad with some new experience. Somehow I discovered there was enough slack in my bonds to allow me to firmly grasp the sides of the chair. This gave me the purchase needed to lift several inches off the seat and thrust myself sharply up into her mouth. As she felt me begin to actively participate, the woman stopped long enough to smile briefly up into my face and then renew her oral activities. Looking down, I saw she had reached between her thighs with her free hand. As I watched her through a haze of arousal she parted herself and inserted two fingers, all the while continuing to send waves of pleasure over my body. Within seconds we were both moaning and writhing in a flood of exquisite sensation. After what seemed like an eternity, she stopped. Rising to her feet, she swung her one leg across my lap to stand poised above me. Holding the back of the chair on either side of my shoulders, she slowly lowered herself onto me until I was fully buried inside her. She felt like exotic liquid fire; hot, dark and wet. We remained motionless for a time. Her with head bowed, hair spilling forward, breathing heavily and I lost in the sensation of white-hot penetration and the fragrance of her hair. After a minute or so she looked up at me through her mask and began to contract and relax her muscles around the base of my cock. Remaining completely still except for her contractions she continued to look deeply into my eyes. The feeling, physical and emotional, was indescribably delicious and torturous at the same time. As I sat hypnotized with this beautiful stranger impaled on my lap, I felt her hands glide down my arms and loosen the knots that held my wrists. My hands free, I found myself unable to resist the temptation to touch her. I brought my hands to her breasts. As my fingers lightly brushed her nipples, she cried out softly, reestablished her grip on the back of the chair and began to rise up and down slowly on me. As I continued to touch her, now pinching and rolling her nipples between finger and thumb, later sucking and licking her breasts, she slowly increased both tempo and force. Soon she was throwing herself frantically downward onto my throbbing cock. I knew we would both come soon. I released her breasts to grasp her ass firmly with both my hands. Using all my strength, I helped her ride me at a frenzied pace. She began to cry out, commanding me to stay with her as she rocketed toward orgasm. Miraculously, I was able to hold back just long enough. With a scream, she threw her luxurious hair back, arched her back and plunged herself, trembling and sobbing, downward one final time. Her last movement triggered within me the release I had been craving all day. With powerful, convulsive surges I filled her with my cum, spasm after spasm wrenching my body. We sat locked in each other's embrace for a long time. Her tremors slowly subsided until; finally, she was completely still. Minutes later, I glanced over her shoulder at Laura and the naked man lying side by side on the bed. They seemed as stunned as we had been after their earlier performance. Although his erection had returned in full force and Laura was clearly in an advanced state of arousal once again, he made no move to touch her. His eyes were riveted to his wife. No one spoke. As the woman rose from my lap, my partially erect penis fell from her and a gush of semen ran down the inside of her legs. She paid no attention, turning instead to offer a hand to her husband. He left Laura's bed to hold her briefly in his arms. Without a word, they dressed. When they were ready, the woman went to Laura and untied her bonds. They left as suddenly and silently as they had arrived. Laura and I remained still for a long time, absorbing the incredible events of the past hour. Finally, getting to her feet, she took a handcuff key from the bedside table and knelt before me to remove my shackles. I noticed the insides of her thighs were wet and slick. She returned to the bed. I joined her there, where after an hour or so of holding each other wordlessly, we made love slowly and tenderly. As our bodies moved together, slippery with the fluids of our own arousal and those of the strange masked couple, we climaxed seconds apart. The next morning we made love again. This time with more urgency until, exhausted, we packed for the return trip. I felt uneasy as we stopped at the office to check out. The man and the woman were both there, both acting as though nothing had happened. They cheerfully inquired about the comfort of our cabin and the enjoyment of our stay. Feeling my face begin to flush, I mumbled answers to their questions and beat a hasty retreat. Laura and I were mostly silent on the trip home, each lost in our own thoughts. I found myself wondering about several things. Wondering if we had simply been caught up in another couple's fantasy. Wondering how they had opened the French doors, absolutely certain I had thrown the deadbolt from inside after returning from the porch earlier in the evening. Wondering how they knew I was immobilized and would be unable to help Laura. Wondering why they chose us rather than some couple in a cabin closer to the office. Wondering if Laura had arranged her own rape. I continue to wonder about it but I never question her. That's the fourth rule.