0 comments/ 12747 views/ 0 favorites The Tempest By: darkmaiden previously published in Tears on Black Roses 1999 "...And in her most imitigable rage, Into a cloven pine; within which rift, Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain A dozen years; within which space she died..." - Shakespeare, The Tempest * * * * * The sky to the east grew dark, as the clouds gathered and undulated like giant mammals swimming across the sky. Miranda sat at her desk reading Poe's A Descent into the Maelstrom. The dim light bled into the room from the street lamps outside a patio door. Her mood was restless as she reread the same sentence for the third time, still not grasping any meaning from it. It was no use. She sighed and placed the book down on top of a mess of loose papers. These pages stared back at her contemptuously, the black ink of her scribbled penmanship mocking her inability to write. The unfinished novel lay obstructed at the climax, because she could not bring herself to complete it. She gazed out into the twilight as the ponderous clouds drank from the sea saturating the air with moisture. A lethargic fog crept down naked streets, writhing with tendrils of grey that seemed almost to breathe. Drizzle began to fall and the moon's bloated face peered out of the gloom, tugging tides from the deep. The tempest was born. Her inadequacy plagued her. During the short summer months she had churned out page after page of the most exceptional writing she had ever accomplished. Days had transformed quickly into nights, and still she had sat without concern for her lack of sleep or nourishment, as words poured easily from her pen with the exquisite transcendence that came as if from an airy opium-dream. She had felt euphoric. Never had she written with such passion, with such simple ease. And, then suddenly, as the late September leaves had begun their metamorphosis, it had all stopped. The climax lay on the brink of completion, stagnant, wanting, unrealized. At first she had imagined her lack of inspiration to be a temporary obstacle, one that would swiftly and easily be overcome. But that had not happened. Instead, the well-spring of creativity that had gushed from her earlier had turned to drought. The thought of it now turned the frustration inside of her to deep despair. Rain beat a steady rhythm on the patio glass and ran down in a shroud of obscuring rivulets. It stained the earth like spilt blood and polished the cobblestone boardwalk to a slick oily sheen. The small room was oppressively close. Miranda's nightdress stuck to her like a second skin. She rose from the chair, wiping the sweat from her upper lip and walked to the door. Her flesh was feverish as she pressed against the cool glass. She could feel her nipples harden through her flimsy nightgown as her soft breasts flattened against the smooth pane. Outside, the street lamps quivered like candle flames about to be extinguished. It was as if she gazed up from the depths of a pool at wavering lights, yet that light seemed hesitant to invade the shadows. She unlocked the latch and slid the door smoothly open. The rain misted her dressing gown, pasting it to the curves of her body. It became transparent, enhancing the swells of her breasts, the shallow arch of her waist, her long slender legs. She loosened the ribbon from her hair and ran her fingers through the auburn lengths. Her ashen eyes searched the darkness, for what she was unsure. Somewhere within those obscure mists, she thought, there must lie her salvation. She felt a strange, slippery queasiness in her belly, as if her intestines where slithering around like an infestation of eels. For a moment she thought she might be ill as the darkness expanded to swallow her whole. A chill crawled up her spine and she felt an ominous sense of dread invade her awareness. She felt certain that something was out there, concealing itself in the shadows, watching her, waiting. Lightning strobed, splintering the evening into dissected fragments of light. There! She was sure she had seen a shape, silhouetted against the sky like a barren tree stretching its limbs. Had it shifted, or had the light merely been playing tricks with her eyes? She felt positive that it had moved. Her hand hesitated against the door, yet something stopped her from closing it. Thunder shuddered through the night like angry laughter. Miranda stepped out into the rain, her bare feet against the cold, slick stones. The wind howled, whipping her rain-soaked hair against her face. A patch of darkness rippled slightly. Then she saw it; a fluid apparition glowing dimly against the grey. Slowly, it materialized, like a photograph developing before her eyes, gathering light into the rich fabric of flesh. It had a feminine form, lithe, delicate and seductive. Miranda was reminded of the water nymphs in Waterhouse paintings, for the being had the same soft quality of light, the same innocence and magical beauty. She was completely enchanted by the creature and felt a mingling of desire and curiosity ripen inside of her. The water nymph floated closer, wearing the mist like a bridal veil about her. The creature glowed with a pale, viridian iridescence, swaying slow and graceful as if it were born of wind and rain and sea. A mossy gown clung to the curves of its feminine form. The hair was magnificent to behold: a waterfall of rivulets that cascaded over the long neck and back and shone with a mother-of-pearl luminescence. Entwined throughout its mass were pale tendrils of seaweed. The nymph shifted closer until it hovered in the air before Miranda. Its eyes were like deep green tide-pools, lashes sprinkled with dew. Miranda felt as if she were gazing into the depths of the ocean, and felt the lull of waves luring her closer. It raised a slender palm towards her, reaching out to graze her cheek with a perfect oval nail. Miranda noticed that the fingers were slightly webbed. The touch was cool, nurturing, reassuring. Miranda closed her eyes and pressed her face against the palm, moving her lips over the smooth flesh, slipping her tongue out to lick the rain that had gathered in small droplets. She could taste the flavor of watery currents shifting lazily inside her mouth. A light melody played softly in her ears. It was a chorus of wind and wave, hauntingly sweet yet filled with such longing and sorrow. The nymph swayed, sweeping Miranda into a slow waltz. She could no longer feel the ground beneath her feet, and the rain was cool against her face. They spun in circles, arms embracing, bodies melting into one. Miranda heard the wash of waves against the shore. She opened her eyes and saw that the nymph had lead her to the beach. She stood at the edge where water and sand met, dizzied by the pull of tide that shifted with the ever changing moods of the moon. The waves lapped at her ankles, sucking the sand from beneath her feet and drawing her into the watery womb. The rock and reef jutted from the waves like jagged teeth waiting with sinister intent, ready for the opportunity to tear flesh from bone. The water was inky and moved with majestic denseness and strength. Miranda shivered as the windswept rain drenched her body. Out in the distance she thought she saw a schooner rocked by lashing waves, its tall, naked mast teetering to and fro like a huge pendulum ticking away the seconds of forever. The nymph gathered her close and soothed the cold from Miranda's flesh, slowly peeling away the wet clinging garment that she wore. It kissed her cheek and then her mouth, the lips cool and wet beneath her own. Miranda looked deep into its eyes, and for a moment, a horrible vision beckoned to her. It was as if a veil had lifted from her sight, and a deep abyss had opened to suck her down into emptiness. Then, those warm tide-pool eyes smiled at her, and all was forgotten. She didn't notice the cold, predatory smile. The nymph led her into the waves. Soon the sandy bottom fell away and they floated on the ocean's current, buoyed by the swell of massive whitecaps. The nymphs arms were strong as they cradled Miranda against the prevailing winds, the body as fluid as the water itself. Soft lips, smooth and seamless, pressed against her mouth. Slowly, her lips parted to allow the nymph's silken tongue entrance. The tongue explored deeply, entwining with her own. Miranda's thoughts drifted. She allowed herself to be carried away with the rhapsody of the tide, the moon tugging her heart, the kiss deepening. She drifted on the sensual current of abandonment, the water rippled against her in cool silvery eddies. A ballad of eerie music, echos of whale-song low and moody, washing over her in waves, like the mournful voice of the wind. They drifted upon the current, two embryos cradled by the sea's expansive womb. Miranda felt the nymphs mouth upon her own, liquid tongues fondling, cool watery breath engulfing her. She felt herself being drawn down under the waves. Inside of her a fissure opened, like a sea lily blossoming, spreading wide its feathery fronds of rapture through the web of sensation that held her euphoric in its weave. The tongue lengthened, like an eel slithering down her throat. Panic struck Miranda, deep into the core of her being. She struggled against the nymph, desperately trying to push it away. But the nymph had fixed its orifice securely to her mouth. With each breath, she drank mouthfuls of salt water, inhaling the burning liquid through her nose, as the air was sucked from her lungs. She thrashed madly, her nails digging deep to gouge the nymph's flesh, that was now pulpy. The eel-like appendage thrust deep inside of her, coiling in the pit of her stomach. It snaked up under her ribs and lodged itself into the open fissure, beneath her solar plexus. Wisps of memories came back to haunt her, the things in life she had cherished, fleeting by, as the nymph nursed from her soul. She realized with a vague awareness that she was being drained of life. All panic had left her. She felt herself falling down into a watery graveyard of darkness and blunt shadow. The cold was terrible now, chilling her from the inside out. Her thoughts drifted by in shades of grey, becoming more obscure, and lacking any emotion. The drum of her heart slowed and, then it stopped all together. She felt the last drop of her essence seep like water through the pores of a sponge, leaving in its wake a dark hallow void. The woman known as Miranda perished. From her empty husk a new, loathsome creature emerged. The creature saw itself in the eyes of another. The thick aqua membrane slid back from those eyes to reveal dark, flat pools of emptiness that reflected only blackness. The eyes of a predator devoid of reason. The eyes of a soul-less parasite whose only purpose was to drain the life from the living. The newborn felt only revulsion at the sight of this other, that was so like itself. The other turned swiftly and dove into the great green swelling shadows of the depths, leaving the newborn to it new existence. Alone. . . *** Time is ageless and unseen. It passes with stealth, obscuring years into decades to those creatures that linger in the depths of darkness and despair. And, so it did for the newborn. Time spent uncomprehending, oblivious to the watery realm that held it captive and to the other creatures that shared its expansive prison. Time spent waiting as lifetimes in other realms fled by. The darkness was cold and void of hue. It held no comfort, and offered only an emptiness that could not be filled. The newborn did not think of why it waited, or what it waited for, it only longed for something it could not remember, something forever beyond its grasp. The newborn did not know emotion, but felt a deep primal pain at its core. This pain was far worse than a feeling, more instinctual, more complete. With the pain came suffering and a deep internal yearning. It swam in the depths of a desperate emptiness, always hungering for a sense of something that it lacked and was forever lost. It was haunted by some obscure suggestion that something else existed, something beyond the fringe of its awareness, something that its rudimentary intelligence could not conceive. Endlessly, it waited for some nameless entity to reclaim it, and to fulfill its need to be filled. The newborn was summoned by the sound of waves crashing far away. A pale luminescence seeped through the murky darkness from above as it swam near. Green and violet swelled in its sight. It broke free of the water and felt for the first time the air probing at its membrane. Dark clouds loomed low in the sky highlighted by the occasional streak of jagged, white light. The tempest had finally called it forth and sang of resurrection. It saw a shoreline off in the distance, the smooth curving line of beach and water beaconing. It was drawn there, knowing instinctively that it would find what it so desperately needed. It emerged from the sea, a membrane of slick flesh that oozed darkness and mist. It saw that the membrane was pliable, and it shaped itself into a likeness locked deep inside its memory, a likeness it had all but forgotten. Limbs slid out of the membrane, limbs with which to carry it on the mists, and those used for grasping its prey. A head emerged, and a mass of seaweed sprang from the crown. Sea-green membranes slid over the dark voids that were its eyes. The eel-like appendage recoiled into the orifice, behind new-made lips, hissing. It listened to the night, to those pathetic cries behind the storm, that called out to be taken. It listened carefully, keenly, separating the swell of voices until it heard only one. This one cried louder than the rest, cried with pathetic hopelessness. It cried out with the need to be emptied, to be sucked dry and cease to exist. It was this one that it hungered for. It glided forward within the tempest, slow and liquid, towards the soul that called to it. Behind its cool, watery smile, the appendage stirred in anticipation, slithering around like a nest of snakes. From a distant window, a light flickered, and a shadow of a figure could be seen. The aqua membranes slid back to reveal the void, for one spit second, the hunger overwhelming. The appendage snaked out to taste the essence of the flesh and blood creature, that hung in the air, then slithered back behind the smile. It was time. . . time to fill the void. The Tempest A loud thunderbolt shakes the house. The lights flicker then go out completely. I am sitting across from you and I glance around, afraid. I am not only afraid of the violent tempest mind you; but I would gladly welcome a thousand, if it meant I didn't have to confess how I feel about you. How I've always felt about you. It's just the two of us here in this house where I grew up, but I fear that I am all alone in this darkness, for you seem so far away... You see me tense, though you misunderstand my apprehension. You light a single candle, place your hand over mine, and tell me everything's going to be all right. That the storm will break. I relax. Your voice alone gives me courage as I realize my inner turmoil will calm as well. Just as I'm about to speak, another crack of thunder reverberates throughout the house, but the only thing I can concentrate on now is you. In the dim light I see you stare deeply into my eyes as I do the same. I love the way you look at me, down through to my soul. There is a hint of desire there as well, in your deep blue eyes that I've known for so long, your light brown hair swishing over your eyes. I melt. Please, I plead to you in my mind; please tell me you feel the same... You grip my hand in yours, and bring it to your face. You close your eyes as you brush my hand against your cheek while deeply inhaling the scent at my wrist. Not a word is said. In this moment I want you more than anything else in the world. A small smile spreads over your face as you open your eyes. I fidget as your heated gaze burns me alive. "I love you" you say, confidently and proud. I awkwardly glance down at our hands now on the table, fingers intertwined. A small smile spreads across my own face. I say nothing, though on the inside I am reeling. Looking at our hands, a perfect fit, I realize I never want that warmth to cool. I just want you. "I love you, too" I say shyly, and I blush. I'm really no good at this! My young mind can't handle it. My heart expands in my chest until it's about to burst. Burst from the love I have for you, a love that has intensified every single day that I've known you. You are my first and my only. I want to make you mine as I am yours. Your smile widens after I say it. You are so beautiful. I don't know how I could've gotten so lucky, but I don't dwell on that when you lift your hand to cup my cheek. I finally realize that I'm crying when you brush away a tear with your thumb. I grab your hand and hold it there, letting it burn my cheek. The storm rages outside, but I am no longer afraid. Of it or of you. The minutes pass in silence, though it seems like years as this feeling of contentment spreads through every inch of my being. Finally, I stand and slowly walk around the small table towards you. You open your arms to me as an invitation, and I gently sit crossways on your lap. Your arms wind themselves around my body tightly, never wanting to let go. I drape one arm over your shoulder and cup your cheek with the other. I can feel the hardness between your thighs and I smile, still staring into those hypnotic eyes. It would be insanity to part from you now. My hand that caresses your cheek moves to the base of your neck as I pull you forward, pressing my lips to yours. Oh, I am in heaven. This kiss is the epitome of you: sweet and gentle. Just like our hands, our lips are a perfect fit. My mind drifts as I think about what else might be also, causing me to giggle. You pull back a little and stare curiously at me, a small smile on your face, but then you're serious. "I want you" you say, undisguised longing in your voice. My smile slowly fades and I look down. Your eyes pierce through all of my defenses and I surrender myself to you. I grab your hand and place it over my right breast, but you laugh and press it over my heart. "No. Not just that part of you. I want all of you" you whisper, "I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I plan to keep loving you, for the rest of my life." Just then, you take my hand and before I can respond, I feel a sudden unnatural weight placed on it. I widen my eyes in disbelief, and glance down at the solitaire diamond ring on my left hand. I let out a gasp, and look back at your face, wrought with emotion. You almost look nervous, as if I ever possessed the will to deny you. "Will you marry me?" you ask in a shaky voice. Much to my embarrassment I am crying again, but you kiss the tears away. For a few moments I just sit there in your loving embrace. I imagine us years into the future, where we stand on a beach hand in hand, as we watch our children's heads bobbing up and down as they run ahead of us into the sea. We exchange looks of love and devotion that have not yet faded since the moment you and I became one. Time has been kind to you; hints of laugh lines are on your face telling of your happiness, and there's a fair sprinkling of gray in your hair. As you hold me, I realize that anything short of this life I have fantasized is a tragedy. I want this life with you. I need this life with you, and only you. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. I finally nod my assent and throw my arms around you as we sink deeply into a kiss that makes me want you more in so many ways. Our tongues dance with each other in our mouths, stroking, caressing, and too soon, I break away and whisper into your ear. "Make love to me." You look at me in shock. We've never done this before. Ever. I grab your hand and slowly return it to my breast, knowing you can feel my nipple tighten with need, and hold your anxious gaze. Don't be afraid. Never be afraid of our passion for one another. Our desire alone can overcome any feat. You relax when you realize it's me, the person you can tell anything to, and who knows you better than yourself. You remove your hand again, against my inner protests, but only to sweep my long hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck. I can see your gaze rest there, even though your hand returns to my breast. I shiver and arch my back, pushing more of my breast into your palm. You leave a hot kiss on my neck and we both moan. I can feel you getting harder by the second, but I do not smile. I am driven insane by my longing for you. I stand and rearrange myself so that I am straddling your lap. You leave a trail of kisses down my neck, collarbone, and to the valley of my chest. My low cut spaghetti strap dress guarantees you the access, and you gently slide down a strap and softly kiss my shoulder. My arms wrap around your neck, and I grasp handfuls of your hair as I bite my lip in anticipation. You slide the other strap over my shoulder and pull my dress down to my waist. For the next few minutes, all you do is stare appreciatively at my chest. I shiver with pleasure as your warm hands slowly slide up and down my bare back. You look into my eyes again and I offer myself to you. You graciously accept with a smile on your face, and kiss my breast before taking one of my nipples into your mouth, sucking on it deeply, caringly. I moan louder, and grasp on to you tightly. I glance out the window for a brief moment and see that the storm is intensifying, much like our coupling. I want to feel your skin against mine, so my hands slide down your bare, muscular chest and reach the first button of your shirt. With each button I unfasten, inch after inch of smooth, corded muscle is exposed to me. You release my nipple and kiss along my jaw until finally, you reach my lips. We kiss passionately and when I get through with the buttons, I help you shrug out of your shirt. I look at your strong lean body and I become wetter than ever. I scoot closer to you, subtly grinding against your erection, as I once again wrap my arms around you. You groan at the small contact, and I press my whole body against you, my nipples rasping against your chest. We kiss and hold each other, and you whisper endearments in my ear. I can't even begin to tell you how perfect this is, and so right. It becomes too much for you, my bare skin on your own, and you stand with me in your arms. I reflexively wrap my legs around your waist like a vise, and you lay me down on the floor while you kneel over me. In a normal situation I would've jumped at the cold wooden floor beneath my back, but my overheated body welcomes the chill, and refreshes me. The wind is howling outside, and the shutters are beating furiously against the windows. I am ready. I lift my hips up as you grab my dress and slide it down and off my body, taking my panties with it. Your hands slowly brush the sides of my thighs when you do this and I quiver, starved for your touch. You toss the dress aside and gaze at my nude state in awe. I'm too aroused to feel self conscious, so I open my legs wider to give you a better view. I see you jump up and quickly remove your pants, releasing your manhood. I gape. In all my life I've never seen anything as beautiful as you are in this moment: naked and vulnerable, with yearning in your clear ocean eyes. You kneel in front of me again and you spread my legs, placing yourself on top of me. I can feel your erection twitch by simply resting on my inner thigh. You haven't entered me yet, much to my dismay, but you support yourself by your hands on either side of my head to look at me. You show your concern as expected; no one's ever been told a girl's first time is pleasant, but I trust you wholly. Your mouth curves slightly into a seductive smile as you lovingly kiss my forehead and then my mouth. My hands graze across your strong back, memorizing each and every inch of you. You kiss, nibble and suck on my neck as I shudder from head to toe. Your right hand moves to my breast and teases my nipple relentlessly. I now rake my nails up and down your back with more pressure, and you reach between my thighs and to my wet folds. You slip a finger inside and I gasp as my sex clenches around it. Your thumb rubs my button and you ravage my mouth, claiming the loud moans escaping from it as your own. This feeling is indescribable; please don't stop. You slip another finger inside me, slowly pumping them in and out. I can't take it anymore. My climax hits me with brute force. My body convulses and I scream for what feels like an eternity; I scream your name. When I finally descend from that blissful height, completely amazed, I slowly open my eyes to find you watching me, with a smug smile on your face. This makes me laugh and you kiss my smiling mouth and tell me how beautiful you think I am. Lo and behold my desire returns tenfold, but this time, I'm concentrating on you. Those sapphire eyes look down at me with uncertainty... "Are you sure?" you ask concerned. I kiss you in a silent yes, surrendering my body to yours. I grab your erection and you jump as I place it at my slick and ready entrance. You press it in an aching inch and my toes curl with the anticipation. You do this to caution me, but I assure you that I'm ready. You thrust into me hard, seating all your manhood in my walls. I feel a tear and a sharp pain follows. I yelp as small tears escape from the corners of my eyes, and cascade down my temples. You watch me with a pained look on your face, my pain being the cause for yours. You just sit there, allowing my body to get used to you. You stroke my cheek in comfort, but I'm smiling because now, now I am finally yours. I love that you're the one filling me. I can feel your arousal as if it had a life of its own and I wonder how patient you could've ever been with me. My heart swells at this revelation, but an acute heat grabs my attention as it expands in my lower belly. I look into your eyes with a fierce need and, much to my own surprise, I tell you to fuck me. Your eyes widen at the command and a crooked smile spreads across your face. You tell me that's the sexiest thing you've ever heard before you pull out and thrust back into me, all humor gone from your expression. I wail, and you make a feast out of my neck, while I am digging into your back with my forceful passion. You start out slow and gently with shallow thrusts, but its becoming harder and harder for you to maintain your control, as well as my own. You roll over unexpectedly, placing me on top and in control. I sit up and throw my head back with a cry as you sink deeper inside me than you ever had before. I slowly start moving up and down, adjusting to a steady pace. I hear your groan which sends shivers up my spine, and I look down at your face contorted with intense pleasure. Now I'm the one wearing that smug smile. A thin layer of sweat covers our bodies as we heighten the pace. I remove my hands from yours plastered on my hips so I can brush back the hair stuck to my face. At the same time you reach up and place both your hands on my breasts, massaging them firmly. You lean forward until were almost face to face, taking one of my nipples into your mouth and drawing on it hard. I wrap my legs around you and whimper as we move faster and faster. You gather all of my hair in your left hand and hold it away from my damp skin and then you dive into the crook of my neck, leaving open mouthed kisses while rubbing my back up and down with your free hand. Our lips clash again fiercely, while we moan in each others mouth. I am close and I can tell you are too by feeling your jaw clench. Your hands move up from behind my back to the tops of my shoulders, pressing me down as far as I can go, hoping to get as deep inside of me as possible. My hands are in your hair, clutching you to me as we kiss, our tongues lashing at one another's. A split second later you close your eyes and I hear you groan as you release yourself deep inside me. Once I feel that heat flooding my passage, an earth-shattering climax takes over. I scream at the top of my lungs, mine mingling with yours, but our cries of ecstasy are drowned out by a loud crack of thunder. When it passes you nuzzle your face in my sweaty chest, weakly gripping me close to you. I'm positive you can hear my heart beating out of my chest. We just sit like that for a while, you still inside me, as we listen to the storm calm. I could sit like this forever. I brush the hair out of your face and you kiss me gently, rubbing my cooling back. I stare back at you with all the love I can gather. This is by far the single happiest moment of my entire life, and I wonder how many more will emerge on life's journey with you. I can't wait. I glance down at my left hand and I'm greeted by the sparkling gem that is your token of love and commitment to me. I finally realize that I am truly, and unconditionally happy. We are happy. Just then, the single candle burns out, and the entire house goes dark again. The storm fades until there is no trace of it. You were right. Now I'm here in the darkness, but I'm not alone anymore. I'm in it with you. The Tempest and The Calm Her head reeled with the strangeness of it. The feeling of being both participant and prisoner. Thunder clapped loudly from outside, the alarm of it causing her to bite down on the ball gag between her lips, flinching. That added pressure pushed a slick line of spittle drooling over the perforated plastic ball and off her full, glistening lips. She heard a click and a mechanical whirling hum. She opened her eyes to see him lording over her bound form. A slow, deep laugh rolled through the imposing thickness of his hairy chest. "Poor thing, afraid of the thunder when I'm the one who's going to hurt you." His tone was something between ominous and promising. And she did not know which potential she preferred. She only knew the soft constriction of his ropes against her skin as he laid a line over the mound of her womanhood. He pressed the vibrator against her lips, and she gasped at the sudden sensation. The contrast of the warm dry plastic emphasized how wanton his command had left her. Positively saturated, the hum of the toy was punctuated by the subtle swish of her excitement. He cinched the toy against her need, and stood back to watch her pretty eyes loll and roll as that need swelled and filled her. He smiled, both warm and somehow cruel, stroking her hair as the first tremors of orgasm took her. He traced his fingers lightly over her soft flesh as the vibrator sent volts of pleasure through her depths. Orgasm rose let a relentless tide, crashing again and again against the shores of her self. Helpless to do otherwise, she bucked and convulsed against her restraints. Each involuntary spasm cinched her bonds tighter, biting into her flesh. Pain seeped into the landscape of her ecstasy, swirling it to greater heights. His laugh and the driving rain on the windows were distant things now. She was being pushed back by sensation, overwhelmed, a prisoner to her need. With desperate effort, she peeled open her eyes and slurred inarticulate around the wet gag, beseeching him. "More?" He posed, knowing her need, commanding it as his tool. Relief at his mastery of her flesh, the anticipation of her lust, and the exciting fear of what more might come coalesced in her beautiful, meek eyes as she nodded slowly her confessed desire. As she moaned around his gag, he whispered in her ear, "Just a start." His grin was a wicked thing, primal and predatory, as he reached out and seized her by her bonds. His strength compelled her, and easily directed her around the bed. The ropes marked her flesh with constriction, and she release a muffled moan, though even she could not say if it were pain or pleasure wrenching it from her. Her feet on the floor, he pulled her hands over the mattress and tied them to an anchor there. Face down and prone, she had never been so exposed, so raw, so wanton. His laughter was rolling thunder, and the soft nubuck tails of his flogger were rivulets of rainfall tracing the lines of her body. She shivered with sensation. And then it was gone. Moments passed, as he watched her anticipation, her need growing ever more insistent. A tear rolled down her cheek as her body pleaded for release, any release. As she turned to search for him, the flogger fell, a short slap across the sensual curve of her ass. Twisting back, a rain of sharp but soft blows descended upon her. She blew her breath out and let his violence fill her. The flesh of her exposed ass sang with each blow. Every tremor became a deeper sensation, sharpness fading into a hot, numb sensation. She could feel the red glow growing from her cheeks. It left her saturated. She let herself slip into the sensation, thought becoming a distant thing. His power over her was complete now. She knew this deeply as he whipped her with more brutal strikes. Her head reeled in his cruelty, and she was desperate for his mark. She wanted him on her flesh, to swell and ache with his presence. She looked back over her shoulder at his calm concentration, at his smile back at her. He reared back, gathering the straps together and driving them hard against the need of her flesh, then dropped the flogger at her feet and kissed her hard against the gag. The storm flashed outside, and she knew it was him. He was fury and violence. Yet he held her completely, controlled it entirely. He was both the tempest and the calm, against which her body broke. She shattered in orgasm. -The End. The Tempestuous Rendezvous We were enjoying our rare evening out and stopped in for a cocktail at a swank little lounge in our hotel. It was nice to be dressed up and able to cut loose with some drinks without worrying about the usual elements of daily life. "So, here we are," Jim said. "The fabled hotel lounge," Lisa replied coyly. Jim clarified, "I mean, in another city, just the two of us, relaxing. It's nice." Lisa took it in for a moment and sighed with relief, "yes." "But it is funny to be in a real hotel bar after all those nights of pillow talk imagining different scenarios," Jim added. "Well, I could pass for a hotwife tonight, with this outfit." "You are a hot wife...you're hot and you are my wife." "You know what I mean." "Yes, you're just missing the anklet." "Well, a certain 'devoted hubby' keeps threatening to give me one as a gift, but he never seems to actually follow through." "Well, I didn't know how you'd feel about getting a real one." "It's just jewelry. And you know I always accept jewelry gifts." "But would you really wear it? In public?" "I would tonight," she said flirtatiously with a coy smile. "Well, there are a lot of guys in this lounge you could choose from," Jim said, matching her flirtatious tone. With that, he excused himself to go use the restroom. Lisa took the opportunity to scope the room and, if truth be told, to take notice of precisely which guys she wouldn't mind inviting back up to their room. She noticed a few of them were also trying to discreetly evaluate their own prospects for the evening. She made eye contact with one tall hunky guy in particular who was sitting at the bar and who she saw checking her out. She flashed him a warm smile while meeting his sexy eyes, lingering a little longer than she normally would have permitted herself. It gave her a rush as she felt herself getting wet at the thought of what he'd be like. Jim returned and handed her a gift wrapped box. "I've had this for a while and just never seemed to have the right moment to give it to you." "Did you go back up to the room to get this?" "Yes, I had it in my suitcase...I don't know...just in case the moment presented itself." Jim knew that Lisa knew what it must be. "Why don't you go to the restroom, so you can discreetly put it on?" "Really? You want me to wear it now...here? What if...what if, well, someone notices it...and..." "You said you'd wear it tonight if you had one. You have one. Besides, it's just jewelry, like you said. And it's not like wearing it means you consent to actually doing anything with anyone. Oh, and one more thing I want you to do while you're in there...take off your panties and give them to me when you get back." Lisa gave Jim a look and said, "You're a troublemaker." Jim observed the number of guys who were checking out Lisa as she walked to the bathroom - some trying to be more sly about it than others. Jim honestly thought that, all told, it was a pretty good pool of guys...they mostly appeared to be business travelers in their late twenties to early fifties, well-dressed, presumably educated and clean. But, as everyone knows, a single guy in a hotel bar is among the horniest of all creatures. And no doubt, they had all taken notice of Jim's wife. Jim watched Lisa as she strolled back from the restroom. Her silver anklet looked so hot contrasted against her dark stockings. Jim turned red confronted with how noticeable it seemed to him. Surely all of these guys are looking at her shapely stockinged legs from her red stiletto heels up to where her little black skirt meets her thighs. There is no way they could not notice the anklet, he thought. He blushed more as the reality of it set in. Jim also knew that all of those eyes were desperately trying to catch glimpses up her skirt as she walked. If one looked close enough, the lace of her thigh high stockings could just barely be noticed. Yes, that outfit coupled with the anklet might very well give someone the right "wrong" idea. Further knowing that she was no longer wearing panties, as all those horny eyes watched her, really caused him to blush as his cock stiffened. "Oh my God, Lisa, you look so fucking hot!" Lisa took Jim's hand and discreetly pushed her balled up panties into his palm. "I feel so naked...and vulnerable." "You should see all these horny guys checking you out, Lisa." "Really? Or are you just saying that?" "No, I'm serious. It's pretty amusing, really. I mean, you're obviously a married woman, but that doesn't stop the eyes - or imagination." "Like who?" "'Like who not' would be the better question. See that guy sitting at the bar with the blue button down shirt? He didn't even try to pretend he wasn't undressing you with his eyes." "Oh and he has such sexy eyes, too. He was smiling at me when you went upstairs." "Really? Should I go upstairs again?" "Well, do you want me to bring him up or should we go to his room?" Lisa joked. "He'd like that," Jim retorted. "Well, I might like that, too," she smiled, "he's pretty hunky;" then added, "I feel so naughty with this anklet on and no panties." "That's the idea. Say, why don't you saunter up to the bar next to your hunky friend and get us a couple more cocktails?" Lisa was feeling brave - and uncontrollably horny - so she got up and walked over to the bar, feeling rather self-conscious and blushing, but enjoying the thrill of it all. Jim watched her sexy ass and legs as she walked away and his cock struggled against his trousers. She stepped up to the bar right next to the guy that had so obviously been checking her out. Jim watched him smile at her and say something that made Lisa giggle. The stranger and Lisa immediately started chatting back and forth, smiling, laughing and carrying on, all the while Lisa unsuccessfully tried to get the bartender's attention. Jim noticed Lisa's foot with the ankle chain posed on the bar rail, as if to highlight the anklet. Then he saw Lisa's new gentleman friend raise his hand, summon the bartender, and order something. Lisa and the stranger continued to chat and giggle. Jim watched as Lisa put her hand on the stranger's knee and smile at him, with a look on her face that Jim remembers from when they were first dating. She took the two drinks and walked back to the table. "Well, you really seemed to hit it off with ol' sexy eyes hunky guy, eh?" "His name's Tony and his flight was cancelled, so he's stuck here for another night." "I see." "And he wanted to buy this round." "Oh, did he?" Jim smirked. "Lisa, I think it's pretty clear he's got the hots for you, babe." "Well, I kind of have the hots for him, too. I bet he looks good without a shirt. And he totally had a boner while I was talking with him. He kept trying to non-chalantly adjust, but the tent was pretty obvious." With that, hubby got up and walked over to the stranger. Lisa was all flustered and excited and terrified. What was he doing? He wouldn't just invite him up to the room, would he? But she'd be lying if she said that the idea wasn't hot and that she didn't, on some level, hope that is exactly what hubby was doing. "Hi, I'm Jim. I wanted to introduce myself and say 'Thanks' for the drinks. I understand your flight got cancelled. I hate that. Would you care to join us?" "I'd be delighted." Jim and Tony walked back to the table. "Tony, you've already met my wife, Lisa." "I certainly have." Tony sat down and their conversation was pleasant and spanned the usual: travel, work, sports. Tony was an educated professional, easy-going, and had a great sense of humor. They chatted and laughed and the time flew by. "This round's on me," Jim said, as he arose to fetch another round from the bar, leaving Lisa and Tony to get further acquainted. The tension was further mounting and Lisa felt how flush her face had become, not to mention how wet her pantiless nethers were, as Tony continued to unabashedly flirt with her. "So, do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Lisa? Is there a story behind the anklet you have on?" Lisa stumbled, stammered and blushed. "Um, not really, well, sort of, I, um, it was a present from my silly hubby." "Silly?" "Well, yeah, I don't know; he likes it. I mean I guess I do, too. I don't know what I'm trying to say and now I'm just rambling." "Sorry. I'm not trying to pry or make you uncomfortable. I was just curious. I didn't think you had it on when you first walked in." "Oh, you're not making me uncomfortable. And you're a very astute observer. Hubby just gave it to me while we were sitting here, so I put it on." "Well, I don't know how astute I am. When an attaractive woman like you walks in, it's hard not to notice." "It's hard, is it?" Lisa laughed nervously, shocked that she let such a crude double entendre escape her lips. "Yes, it is," Tony chuckled, grinned and slowly nodded, "I mean, you really look stunning. Every guy in here took notice of you," he said, touching her forearm for emphasis. Lisa reciprocated the gesture, putting her other hand atop his; she blushed and said, "Thanks," with a glowing smile. Just then, Jim returned with another round of drinks. "Well, I see you two have grown familiar," he said with a coy grin. "Your wife was just telling me about the anklet you gave her." "Oh, was she now? Well, I hoped she'd like it." "I do, hubby. Do you like it, Tony?" "I think it looks pretty hot on you." "Yeah, she's a hot wife, isn't she? I mean just because she's my wife doesn't mean other guys should stop appreciating her." "Well, that's open minded of you, but makes sense to me, and I am certainly appreciating her, Jim." "You guys are making me blush. I'm going to the restroom, excuse me." "Damn. You are one lucky guy, Jim." "I know, Tony, I really hit the jackpot with Lisa. She's smart, sexy, sweet, cool. I'm glad you appreciate her. I guess that's kind of what the anklet was for. Listen, I don't mean to make this awkward, but would you care to continue the conversation up in our room?" "Sure," Tony said enthusiastically, "and I'll go order a bottle of champagne to bring." "That would be great. We're in room 1669 - come on up in about 10 or 15 minutes." "See you then!" Lisa returned and asked, "Where's Tony?" "Oh, he's going to order a bottle of champagne to bring up to our room." "What? Shut up. He is not." "I invited him up to continue the conversation." "The conversation? Yeah, sure. ... Jim, you've basically invited him to fuck your wife." "Not yet. But you wouldn't mind seeing hunky guy without his shirt, would you? You secretly hope he has a thick cock, too, don't you?" She couldn't deny it; she was tipsy, excited, and horny, so she just said, "You're a troublemaker." "Well, let's get up to the room. He said he'd be about 15 minutes." The door barely closed behind them and Jim grabbed Lisa by the shoulders and firmly guided her to sit on the edge of the bed, while Jim knelt before her, hiked her skirt and took a moment breathlessly admiring her sexy legs in heels, thigh high stockings and garter with no panties. He couldn't contain himself any longer and dove between her milky thighs and proceeded to lap up her juices and probe her dripping wet and open pussy with his tongue. Her juices were running down his face and chin. "God, Lisa, you're so wet! The idea of Tony's thick cock is really turning you on, isn't it?" "Oh fuck, your tongue feels so good Jim, but I want you to watch him fuck me. Will you watch his strong manly hands grab my tits? Will you watch Tony's thick cock fill your wife, Jim? Will you watch him take my pussy and fuck me hard? I want him to fuck me so hard! Oh God Jim, I really need it. I really want him to just take me and use me. I want to be a real slut for him. I want to be his whore. Will you watch us, Jim? Will you watch your wife be taken by a strong man?" "Yes, Lisa. I want to see you let out your inner slut. I want to watch you fuck him, baby. I want to see you cum on his thick cock. I want you to get off on being his whore that he just uses." "But you have to promise not to cum, Jim." Jim eased up his licking because he didn't want her to cum yet, either; he could hardly believe how wet she was. "Will you lick my clit while he fucks me, if I want you to, baby?" "Mmmm...yes." "But I might just want you to sit quietly in the chair and watch; I might get lost in being his slut and forget you're in the room; are you OK with that?" "Yes, Lisa. I'm giving you permission to do anything you want with him tonight, baby." "I want to feel him explode deep inside me while he fills me up. If I do this, baby, you have to agree right now that you'll clean up my creampie before you get to take sloppy seconds. Ok, baby? You'll do that for me?" "Yes." "Promise me." "I promise." Just then there was a knock at the door. "Oh God, Jim, he's really here." Jim got up, his face wet with Lisa's juices, to answer the door. "Hi, Tony, come on in." "Thanks. I can't make any promises about this champagne," he said as he poured it into three glasses; "I haven't had this one before, but the bartender highly recommended it as the hotel's best." Jim thanked him for bringing it, raised his glass and toasted: "to flight delays." They laughed and Lisa added, "and the new drinking friends they make." "Well Tony," Jim said, "we don't exactly have a suite, here, so make yourself comfortable on the bed there next to Lisa." "Don't mind if I do, Jim; I'll try to keep my hands to myself." "Now what fun would that be?" Lisa teased, emboldened by the drinking and her horniness. "Well, none for me, but I don't think Jim would appreciate me putting the moves on his wife." "Oh, I don't know, Tony, Jim's a sharer; isn't that right, honey?" Jim felt his cock harden at her teasing and couldn't quite find the witty retort he was searching for, so all he said was, "it's true," then added, "life is more enjoyable when you can share the good stuff with others." "Well, your wife sure is the good stuff, Jim." "The best," Jim replied. "Now you guys are making me blush again." "You're even prettier when you blush," Tony said, placing his hand on her stockinged knee. "So, this champagne is pretty good," Lisa said with a nervous laugh, as she rested her soft hand on Tony's and caressed it reassuringly. Tony took the cue and began slowly massaging her knee and thigh. Jim excused himself with a grin and a wink to use the bathroom, adjusting the tent in his pants when he stood. Tony wasted no time as his hand wandered higher and higher on Lisa's thigh until he felt the top of her stockings and instinctually let out a sigh of delight. Lisa matched with a purring groan, relishing the strong hands of the stranger exploring her hungry body. She leaned in close, noticing how good he smelled and with a soft breath whispered in his ear, "I want you to feel how wet I am for you." Tony's fingers immediately began their journey further up the soft inside of her thigh expecting to have to pull aside her panties only to find her smooth, wet lips exposed and inviting his fingers to explore their petal folds. Lisa could hardly believe this stranger had his manly hands probing her womanhood; she parted her thighs, stretching into his fingers. It felt so good as his thick fingers slid omnidirectionally over, in, and around her...she got lost in the sensations which seemed to have been coming from a hundred tiny dancing sprites ravishing her most intimate nethers. All she could do was close her eyes and moan as Tony fingered her. "That really is some good champagne, Tony," Jim remarked as he entered the room before he fully assessed the situation. Lisa, startled momentarily by the interruption of Jim's voice, opened her eyes, glanced at Jim, then reached over, unzipped Tony's pants and reached her hand into his fly. She began to explore his bulging meat, which she could feel was, as hoped, rather thick, with a heft more substantial than her husband's, who himself has a nice cock. Her hands worked through the fly on his jockeys and she suddenly felt his warm naked flesh in her horny hand, which sent a pulse of sensation deep in her loins. She finally coaxed his impressive semi-erect member to spring out. She gazed upon his thick meat and her comparatively tiny hand gripping him. Compulsively, she bent down to take him into her hungry salivating mouth. Jim could hardly believe his eyes. They had often fantasized about finding a nick thick cock for Lisa, but now it was happening and he was genuinely impressed by the heft of the cock in her hand and mouth. It was such an enormous erotic rush to see his wife on a bed with the hand of a stranger between her creamy thighs while her pretty soft mouth consumed the stranger's stiffening cock, which looked so good against her fair skin. Jim's own cock felt like it might split open it was so engorged. His shorts were getting wet from the copious precum dripping from his tip. But he silently sauntered back over to the chair to sit down and take it all in. Seeing his wife so horny with another guy's cock compelled him to rub at his hardness through his pants and he soon unzipped his fly and yanked it out to stroke more satisfyingly. Tony grabbed Lisa's hair, pulled her up, and threw her down on the bed face first. He stood and moved behind her, grabbing, squeezing and spreading her ass cheeks with both of his big hands. "You've got such a hot ass, Lisa," he said as he slid his thick shaft along her crack. "You've got such a nice big cock, Tony," she said, as she pushed back grinding against it. "I'm going to fuck you, Lisa...that's what you want, isn't it?...I didn't hear you...I said 'I'm going to fuck you, Lisa' ...you want it...don't you?" "Yes, Tony, I want you to fuck me." "That's right, Lisa. You put on that anklet tonight because you wanted to feel a stranger's cock inside you. You're craving a stranger's hard cock penetrating you and filling you up." He began teasing her with the tip of his cock sliding around her desirous opening. "You wanted to feel another guy's hard cock inside you...fucking you...you want a stranger's cock penetrating you...you don't even know me, Lisa...I'm a random stranger you just met in a bar, but look at you, on this bed, with your wet pussy pressed against my cock...against a stranger's cock like a good slut...ready to be used...I know what you want Lisa. I'm going to give you what you crave...and I know you're going to love it...you're going to love having my cock buried deep inside you...fucking you like a good slut needs it...I'm going to fill you up...you're going to be so swollen, sore, thoroughly used and dripping like a filthy dirty whore when I'm done with you...but I know that's what you want." And then he smacked her ass with authority and said, "isn't that right, you slut?" Before she could answer, he grabbed her hair and jerked her head back and mightily smacked her reddening ass again, quickly repeating, "isn't that right, slut!?" "God! Yes! Tony! Just fuck me! Fill me up!" With that, Tony slowly slid the tip of his meaty cock just inside her. Lisa gasped as she felt his thickness stretching and slowly penetrating her. The tight fit was made easier by the lubrication of her own copious wetness. As she relaxed and began to adjust to his manly circumference, he slid in further, slowly, inch by inch, until he was deeply and thoroughly penetrating her womanhood. He eased in and out with a casual rhythm until he felt her now stretched out cunt hungrily and happily gobbling all of him, even if it was a tight squeeze. But her wetness provided all the lubrication he needed to now slide effortlessly in and out. The Tempestuous Rendezvous He eased out and momentarily teased her juicy lips agape with his tip. Then he forcefully grabbed her hips and powerfully thrust his whole cock deep inside her. The sensation was almost too much. She gasped for air, feeling overwhelmed and dizzy. He was done accommodating her initial need for adjustment and was going to take her and use her like a malleable fuck doll. His big hands commanded her body, positioning her just so and holding her there. He was not trying to be overly rough with her, but, finding her body manipulated by his inadvertent and natural strength, she knew she was in his control. She was helpless to resist, even if she wanted to; though she very much did not. He possessed her body so totally that her mind, too, was overcome - in that moment, she only wanted to submit to him, to be used, to be his whore. Tony held on to her so strongly his muscles were bulging. His hips wildly pounded his immense cock deep inside her, thrusting powerfully, eliciting screams and moans from Lisa. She was making sounds Jim had frankly never heard from her before. At times it seemed like she was screaming from pain, except she was clearly getting off on it. Tony alternated holding her tight, squeezing her tits, caressing her face, pulling her hair, ravishing her abdomen and thighs, spanking her ass, and rubbing her clit, all while using his cock to command her responses like a puppet. Lisa was overwhelmed. It continued to be on the edge of too much. Actually, it was too much. But that didn't matter anymore. She was beyond that. She was his fuckdoll. She wanted this. She wanted it to be over the lines she might otherwise have drawn. She could almost convince herself that she was being raped by this stranger and, in that time and space, that is what she wanted it to feel like. She wanted him to rape her. He wasn't, of course. Her loving husband was there and this was all consensual, but she loved feeling on the edge, being so thoroughly out of control and dominated. She wanted to be used without regard to any consideration for her. So, if it felt like too much, that only confirmed that she truly had submitted to being his dirty whore to use. Spinning and overwhelmed, she was getting off on being possessed and feeling used like a whore. Those thoughts and sensations sent her over the edge. She began to scream and moan even louder as a shuttering orgasm washed over her, all the while Tony continued to hammer his cock into her visibly dripping and convulsing hole unabated. "You fucking love this, don't you, you whore?" "Yes," she cried. "You get off on being treated like a piece of fuckmeat, don't you?" "Yes," she moaned. His powerful thrusts showed no signs of slowing or weakening. "You love getting royally fucked by strangers, don't you?" "Yes," she cried again. "You love having your husband pass you around to strangers like a dirty whore, don't you?" "Oh...fuck...yes," she screamed. Her confession sent her over the edge again with a second orgasm she wouldn't have thought possible so soon after the first, but was testament to how intensely she was getting off on all of it. After her second orgasm, Tony pulled out. Barely letting her catch her breath, he pulled her off the bed and said, "on your knees!" He shoved his cock straight into her mouth. "Lick your slut juice off my cock," he commanded. "Service my cock, you whore." Jim watched as his wife's head bobbed up and down on Tony's cock, slobbering all over it and slurping him in, licking and sucking him with the intensity of a worshipper before her god, demonstrating the degree to which she truly admired and lusted after his cock. She had never felt so submissive, obediently on her knees and genuinely worshipping his cock. She wanted his cum; she wanted it on her, all over her, inside her. She needed to satisfy him and to have his cum make her literally dirty - his truly dirty whore. "I want your cum," she gasped. "You want my cum, what?" "I want your cum, Sir." "That's better. Well, my whore, I'm going to give you my cum...I'm going to pump all of my sticky cum deep inside your sluthole and make you filthy. You want it deep inside, don't you, whore? You want it so deep inside it'll be dripping for hours like a good dirty whore cunt should, isn't that right?" "Yes...Sir." "Yes, whore, I know what whores like you need. And I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to wreck that married pussy of yours...fill it up with my sticky sloppy cum...make you a filthy whore before I send you back to your husband ...oozing with my cock juice." He took his cock into his hand and slapped her across the face with his meat four times and then walked behind her, pushed her head down, grabbed her hair to arch her back and mounted her from behind. She was still dripping wet, and now thoroughly stretched from the pounding he had already given her. He slid in effortlessly as she moaned from having his thickness satisfy the emptiness she felt since he pulled out. She wanted him to stay inside of her, filling her up so good. "The best whores get wet from being used...you're dripping...you're cunt needs more cock, baby...you're hubby needs to give you to strangers more often...tell him...tell him you want him to let you be the whore you were born to be...tell him you want him to let you fuck more strangers like a good whore...tell him!" "Oh God, hubby. I'm so wet. I love being used like a whore. I need you to let me be a whore, hubby. I need you to let more strangers fuck me. I need more cock," she said in stochastic rhythms and grunts as Tony fucked her from behind while he reached around and rubbed her clit between his manly fingers. "Mmmmm...that's a good whore...you don't even know me, do you, slut? You don't even know if Tony is my real name. I'm just some random stranger from the bar...fucking you...fucking you right in front of your hubby...while he watches his wife getting used like a dirty filthy whore...you horny bar slut. And you're loving it...you want more of my cock filling you up...you want my cum inside of you, you want a stranger's cum pumped deep inside of you...you want some random stranger's cum dripping out of your dirty stretched out used cunt, don't you?...tell me...beg me...beg me to make you a filthy cum-dripping whore." "Please," she pleaded, "pleeeeaaaase...please fill me with your cum...I want to feel you pump it deep inside of me...I want you to make me a dirty cum-filled whore...fill me up...oh God, I'm cumming again...oh God..." she screamed as her third orgasm nearly reduced her to tears and then she felt Tony's cock begin to erupt deep inside her...she could feel the spasms as spurt after spurt of his cock juice pumped her full...he came for a long time and came a lot. He slowly dismounted with a satisfied smile on his face. "That was really hot, Lisa. Thanks for a really good time." He helped Lisa up off the floor and back onto the bed and then got dressed quickly, double-checking to make sure he had collected all of his things. "I've gotta go get some sleep now. I have a plane to catch in a few hours. Jim, you're a lucky man. She is amazing...and a great fuck. Thanks for letting me take her for a spin. Best of luck to you both. Goodnight." And, with that, the stranger from the bar was suddenly gone. Lisa's cunt was dripping with a raw mixture of her juices and those of the stranger who just used her and left. She was swollen, red, stretched out - thoroughly used and spent with a massive load of cum deposited deep inside her. Jim had never been so horny in his life. He was proud that he managed not to cum, despite every urge to shoot off while he watched his wife willingly become a whore for a stranger. "Oh my God, Lisa. That was so fucking hot. You were amazing. You came 3 times! I love seeing you get off, babe. I'm so fucking horny! I need to fuck you, baby. I need to reclaim my good little whore wife and fill your sloppy pussy with my cum." "Not yet, hubby. You made me a promise. Now, get over here and show me your devotion - get that talented tongue of yours to work, 'Devoted Hubby.'" Jim did as he was told. He knelt beside the bed, pulling Lisa's legs to either side of his head and he started licking up her wet thighs and then plunged his tongue inside her dripping pussy, lapping up the elixir of her unbridled sex. If having the cum of a stranger drip from her pussy made her a dirty whore, what was he, getting off on dirty whore juice dripping into his mouth and smeared all over his face? But he was getting off on it; his face flush, heart pounding, cock throbbing. He could've eaten her for hours - she was so sexy - he just wanted to be all consumed by her sex. He relished in the sloppy elixir smothered all over his face, breathing deeply that unmistakable potent scent. The gentleness of his tongue provided some soft relief to her sore pussy. But the thoughts of what she had just allowed to be done to her and the fact that her hubby was so devoted as to now be eating her creampie from her tempestuous rendezvous gave way to another wave of impending climax. Her muscles began to stiffen as she grinded into her hubby's face, fucking his mouth with her sloppy used cunt. She grabbed his head tightly with both hands, fucking his face furiously, and bellowed out as she lost herself in another orgasm. Jim was drenched in slut juice. His face sopping wet from her pussy mixed with the cum deposited there earlier. After her orgasm, Jim was done playing nice. He grabbed his wife by the hips and without the usual niceties of starting slow, rammed his cock between her thighs, fully penetrating her sloppy loose pussy, reclaiming his wife. He held her tight and hammered into her. She was so stretched out that it didn't register for her the way it might have otherwise, but he could hardly stand it any longer and shot streams of thick gooey cum into her already well-fucked well-used cummy pussy. He filled her again and collapsed in a heaving breathless heap atop her. She grabbed his head, gently guiding it at first, but then forcefully grabbed his hair and forced him down on her once more. "Eat me, devoted hubby. Lick your whore clean. Get every drop of sex juice and swallow it down, my pussy slave. You like cleaning up whores, don't you, slut boy? You like being a slave to my pussy, don't you? That's it, that's a good clean-up boy. You got me ready and you cleaned me all up. You're a good devoted hubby and I guess I'm a good whore wife. You like that don't you?"