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A sharp slap to my (oh so sore) bare butt brought an abrupt end to my much-needed nap. My eyes shot open and darted around the room taking inventory of all the ‘evidence’ I’d left laying about.
The butt plugs. . .
The tube of k-y jelly. . .
The cucumber. . .
My laptop. . .
My laptop! It was still on!
A wave of panic washed over me as I tried desperately to remember if I’d logged-off Gmail’s live chat.
“Looks like you had a fun afternoon.” Aaron said.
“W . . . what time is it?” I stammered, trying desperately to clear my mind.
“Five thirty. Now; about your afternoon?”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat. Painfully. Aaron’s eyes darted over my naked body. “Well?” he persisted.
“Well what?” I said, trying to play dumb.
“My afternoon. . . Yes . . .”
“Would it help your memory if I shut down your computer?” Aaron asked.
“No!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I shouted.
A smug smile crept across his face. “Would you rather do it?”
I was busted. Not wishing to prolong things any longer, I walked over to the laptop and moved the mouse to clear the screen-saver. To my surprise, the open window was in my Yahoo mail account. Aaron read:
I have just sent you another gmail invitation. Accept this one and sign up for gmail. No excuses, just get it done ASAFP.
Gmail has a chat window that runs inside your browser — you will not have to install any software. There will be many times today when I wish to text chat with you in real time.
When you have signed up, let me know your gmail address.
“How did you get my username and password?!” I demanded.
“You gave them to me. Earlier this summer?”
Damn that memory of his!
Aaron started unbuttoning his shirt. “So. Chrissy. What, exactly, did Victoria have you do today?”
“This is embarrassing.”
My extremely-amused husband sat down on the edge of the bed, then removed his shoes and socks. “I can see she didn’t take you up on your offer to shave your pussy for her; but did she have you ‘accidently’ drop your towel and give Lori a ‘free show’ when she came to deliver the mail?”
“No.” I said softly, remembering the series of emails I’d sent: the promises I had so freely made in order to get Victoria to once again take on the role of my ‘Mistress’. Knowing my darling had read them . . .
Aaron stood, took off his pants, then slid-down his boxers. His cock was growing harder by the minute. “Chrissy.” he said with a raised eyebrow, “Cum, here. Put your hands on the bed and spread those sexy legs of yours.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked timidly.
“Fuck your ass.”
As sore as I was; back there, I felt compelled to do as my lover asked. Slowly, I ‘assumed the position’ while Aaron liberally coated his rock-hard cock with k-y. I waited. His fingertips dug into my hips. Forcefully; he entered me.
“Chrissy? Did I hurt you?”
“No. Well, yes. I mean . . . never mind.”
Aaron slowly withdrew all but the head of his cock; then slammed it home.
His strokes were long, slow and deep. As my dear husband fucked me, my thoughts turned to my cyberspace playmate: Victoria. To that unforgettable day when I first cast-off my inhibitions, and allowed my curios side to take over. It was a sensual encounter. Like none other. One where the fantasy of pleasures given by another woman were mine to be enjoyed. My every wish was her command. It was . . .
“Ughhh. Uggghhh. Ugggggghhhhh!”
Aaron picked up his pace. My breasts swayed wildly as his hips impacted my rump.
Memories of all the humbling things I’d bade her do. The intense orgasms I enjoyed while . . .
“Ughhh. Uggghhh. Ugggggghhhhh!”
To the first time I gave myself over to her. To all the humbling things she’d bade me do. To the frustration of orgasms denied. To . . . To . . .
“Beg for it, chrissy. Beg for it!”
“Please, Aaron. Please! Fuck me! Fuck my ass!” The words flowed so effortlessly, “Fuck it hard! Fuck it! Fuck me like the slutty whore I am! Oh god! Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!!!!!”
I felt like a bitch in heat! A whore!
“I’m cumming!” my love growled.
“Please baby. Cum in my ass. Please! Please?!” I begged.
One last, deep thrust . . .
I awoke the next morning to the last few lines of Madonna’s: Like a Virgin playing on the clock radio. I stretched, then tossed back the covers. Aaron was already up. On his pillow, a note: “Remain naked, and cum down to breakfast.”
Filled with a sense of adventure, I slipped out of bed and hurried downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, Aaron was already dressed for work: waiting for me.
“Good morning; Chrissy.” he said
I stopped cold. Immediately, I knew I was in trouble. What was the tip-off? ‘Chrissy’. A nickname given me by an older cousin many, izmir escort bayan many years earlier. One that I used whenever I was open to Victoria’s whims. One that Aaron had begun to use to let me know that he wanted to play. By his rules.
“Good morning!” I said as bubbly as I could, hoping to hide my nervousness.
A wicked grin slowly crept across my darling’s face. “Chrissy; have a seat on the counter. Next to the sink.”
Without hesitation, I hopped up onto the counter. The granite felt cold against my bare butt and thighs.
“Shave your pussy for me.” he said.
“Shave your pussy. The scissors, shave gel and razor are in the sink. Now get busy.”
My heart began to pound. My hand shook as I picked up the scissors. Slowly, I spread my legs and gazed down at my thick patch of brown. Timidly, I began to trim my pubic curls. I stared, almost in disbelief, as snip by snip my maiden hairs fell away. The sight was . . . mesmerizing.
“Very good, Chrissy.”
Aaron’s fingertips brushed over the stubble. Caressing; inspecting; teasing. I closed my eyes and enjoyed. When he finished, I opened them and watched, as he collected the tiny pile of fluff I’d created, and unceremoniously deposited it in the trash. “Fill one side of the sink with hot water.”
Aaron positioned one of the stools from the island in front of me and sat down. “Okay Chrissy, it’s time for you to get down to business.”
I soaked the washcloth, wrung it out and placed it over my pussy. Its warmth, coupled with my own, felt good. Aaron leaned forward and carefully nestled the cloth around my outer lips. I moaned my approval. He smiled, then leaned back. “Put a new blade in the razor. Chrissy.” he said.
With a bit of trepidation, I did as instructed.
“I’m waiting. Chrissy.”
My hand shaking, I picked up the can of shave gel and dispensed a generous amount. Aaron removed the washcloth and tossed it aside. I applied the gel, and slowly; oh so slowly, massaged it in. “Get on with it. Or better said: get off with it. Chrissy.”
Remembering the last time Aaron had ‘done the honors’; I mimicked his technique and expertly guided the blade across my pubes: trying my best to make the show last as long as was humanly possible. It was an effort not rush, but the lustful look on Aaron’s face as I extended the show made it all worthwhile.
“That’s my girl. Get that pussy nice and bare. Especially around those sweet lips.”
Cautiously, I drew the razor along my inner thighs and over my swollen labia. The feel of the blades performing their task was indescribably sexy.
“Okay; Chrissy, time for another new blade.”
Aaron took the razor from me and changed out the blade. Handed it to me, then picked up the can of shave gel and coated my tingling flesh. “Be quick about it. Chrissy. We don’t have all day.”
With a little more speed (and a lot less tease) I began round-two. Using short, light strokes, I reversed my course. Aaron leaned in close. He blew his hot breath into my pussy. The sensation made me cum instantly!
The razor fell from my hand.
“Would you like me to finish?” he asked.
All I could do was nod yes, and try desperately to hold still as my darling picked-up where I had left-off.
It seemed to take forever.
My thoughts drifted.
A sharp pinch to my poor little clit brought me back down.
“Rachel will be picking you up at a quarter to eight.” Aaron said, as he lovingly wiped my pussy clean, “I called her just before you came down and told her my car was in the garage and that I was taking yours. No lie. I just didn’t tell her it’s in our garage.
“Now. After you shower; put on your skimpiest bra; a pair of v-string panties; natural-colored stockings; garters; your brown, leather skirt; a tan, silk blouse; brown high heels; and your brown leather jacket.
“When you get to work, check your yahoo account. Instructions will be waiting. You WILL follow them to the letter. Understand? Chrissy?”
I wanted to protest, but didn’t. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at five thirty . . .”
I walked into my office and immediately booted my computer. “Hurry up!” I mumbled to myself. The screen came up and I went straight to yahoo. A message from Aaron was waiting. I read:
There is no denying the fact that I find the games you and Victoria play to be extremely sexy and a real turn-on. They intrigue me. Especially the way they somehow manage to boost your already insatiable desires. Still; I can’t help but wonder why you chose to keep this encounter a secret. But first things first.
As soon as you have finished reading this, I want you to go to the restroom, take off your skirt and panties, then masturbate to orgasm while imagining yourself kneeling in your office, me fucking your mouth, while Victoria watches. When you have finished, put your panties and skirt back on, then send me an email telling me what it was like.
Don’t keep me waiting.
As escort izmir if in a trance, I closed my email and headed straight for the restroom. Once inside, I locked the door and quickly removed my skirt and v-string. I leaned back against the vanity and closed my eyes. The scene Aaron had planted flashed in mind. I reached down and started stroking my pussy: concentrating on the area around my clit. I imagined Aaron’s cock gliding along my tongue in search of the back of my throat. I could see my Cyber-Mistress standing with arms folded, watching me gasp for breath as I took all that my lover had to give.
My fingers were a blur.
I could almost feel Aaron’s heavy balls slapping against my chin. The head of his cock rubbing the roof of my mouth. Victoria’s stare.
“Mmmm . . .” I moaned, as sweet orgasm came.
On shaky legs, I went back to my office and logged back to yahoo, another email awaited me.
A change of plans. Rather than take time now to relate your thoughts of having Victoria watch you suck my cock, I want you to spend any free time you may have during the rest of today fantasizing the following:
There’s a party at Victoria’s. She and a dozen or so of her girlfriends are sitting around her living room. In the middle of the floor are an assortment of toys. You enter, wearing nothing more than a robe. Victoria commands you to take it off and entertain them.
You can fill me in over dinner.
BTW I will pick you up in front of your office a little after five, instead of five thirty. Before you, cum, out, take off your bra and panties and put them in your purse.”
Aaron’s email left me . . . confused . . . aroused . . . wanting. All I knew for sure, was that it was going to be a very; very long day . . .
I checked my watch for the third time in two minutes. It was five after five. Aaron pulled up to the curb. I got in and leaned over to receive a long, wet kiss. Aaron obliged, as his touch explored my braless breasts.
Our lips parted. Far too soon. He offered out his hand. “Bra? Panties?” I opened my purse and took out the crumpled garments.
“Very good. Chrissy.”
A quick flick of his wrist sent them into the backseat.
“Fasten your seatbelt.”
I did, and he pulled away from the curb.
“Raise your skirt. Show me your pussy.”
Nervously, I inched my skirt upward until my naked pussy was clearly visible. Aaron reached into his coat pocket and took out a pair of nipple clips. Gave them to me. “Put these on.”
“Open your blouse and put them on. Now. Chrissy.”
I hesitated, as he reached over and stroked my pussy. A sharp pinch to my clit. “Now.”
Quickly as I could, I undid the top two buttons, reached in, and put the clips in place. At the next traffic light, Aaron reached over and fussed open my blouse; exposing my breast. He reached down and began to adjust my skirt, which had drifted back over my pussy. The light changed before he could finish. “Until we reach the restaurant,” he said, “I want your breasts and pussy visible at all times. Understand? Chrissy? So do it. Now!”
Per my darling’s command, I fixed my skirt so that my pussy would remain exposed. As he drove, I stared out the window into the early-evening darkness of the December night. I couldn’t believe what I was doing . . . what I had done . . . how erotic it all was . . . how I’d become nothing more than a bitch-in-heat . . .
A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Charlie’s Place: a tired-looking bar and grille known for its great food and micro-brewed beer. Aaron drove to the far corner of the lot and backed into a space alongside a shiny new mini van that blocked us from view.
“Time to cover up. Chrissy.”
I smoothed my skirt back down, then tucked my breasts inside my blouse.
“Leave the buttons undone.”
Aaron walked around to my side and opened the door. He waited for me to get out, then popped the trunk. A simple gesture directed me to the back of the car. “Lift your skirt, and bend over.”
“You heard me.”
My eyes darted around the parking lot, hoping to see . . . anyone. I needed an excuse to refuse.
As if drained of free will, I immediately complied.
“Feet a little further apart.”
The cold night air stung my exposed pussy.
“Very good; Chrissy.”
Filled with lustful-anticipation, I watched as Aaron slipped on a surgical glove and squeezed a generous amount of k-y onto his first two fingers. His warm touch spreading my butt cheeks gave me a hint of what was to cum. I braced myself. The icy k-y against my asshole made me jump. His intrusive fingers made me squirm.
I glanced over my shoulder just in time to watch Aaron cover my monster butt plug with a thick coat of k-y. I turned away as izmir escort he stretched my cheeks as far apart as humanly possible. I braced as he filled me with the . . . “Mmmmmaaaaagggggghhhhhh!”
A slap to my oh-so-filled butt.
“Okay, Chrissy. Let’s go eat.”
I straightened, and let my skirt fall into place as Aaron closed the trunk. Twin trickles of cum stopped at the top of my stockings and soaked in. Aaron slipped his arm around my waist and escorted me inside. . .
“Hi. My name’s Tina. I’ll be serving you tonight. Table for two?”
Our waitress was young, and to quote Aaron: ‘looked like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet.’
“Yes. A nice, quiet, table for two.” Aaron said.
Tina looked around the dining room, then led us to a small table in an out-of-the-way corner.
“Do you need a minute?” she asked.
“Actually, no.” Aaron said, “We’ll have two of your New York strips; medium; baked potatoes and salad. A ginger ale for me; and a stout for the lady.”
Once Tina was out of ear-shot, I turned to Aaron and said: “A stout?”
“Isn’t that what; sluts, drink? Chrissy?”
I started to speak, but didn’t. I mean, when you’re sitting in a restaurant; no panties, no bra; a monster butt plug firmly in place, and nipple clips digging in . . . yes; the term ‘slut’ fits. And I do suppose that beer is the drink of choice for . . . sluts.
“Did you complete your assignment; Chrissy?” Aaron asked.
“Yes.” I said softly.
“One ginger ale; one stout.”
The sound of Tina’s voice mad me jump.
“Your dinners will be out shortly.” she said, before turning to leave.
Aaron leaned forward. “I’m waiting.”
I took a long drink of the foamy brew. “Mistress Victoria blindfolds me and tells me to stand with my feet slightly apart and not to move. A pair of hands untie the belt. Another pair open the robe. Another slip it from my shoulders. I tremble, as one set of long fingernails drag across my naked pubes from in front; while others rake my breasts from behind.
“My feet are nudged further apart. Hands run up and down my inner thighs. One set of fingers spread my pussy lips, and hold me open. Set after set enter me and tease my clit. To my horror, all the attention my pussy is receiving causes my nipples to grow long and thick; turning them into the center of attention. I try desperately not to cum as fingertips trace the crowns of my areolas, then pinch and roll my nipples. It’s no use.
“Two sets of hands on my shoulders force me to my knees. Others position me on all fours. I try to focus my thoughts on anything but the moment. It’s no use. I brace myself as a small anal bead is pressed inside me. A different set of hands inserts the next. A different, the next. A different, the next. A different, the next. A different, the last. A different, pulls them out using slow, even tension.
“A dildo, larger and thicker than any I’ve ever taken, is forced inside my pussy. I cry out.
“Two more sets of hands move me onto my side then onto my back. Four sets of hands hold me down: spreadeagle. More pinch and knead my breasts. Another begins fucking me with the dildo. Another fastens nipple clips in place. Another furiously rubs my mons. I struggle to get free. The grips tighten. The fucking intensifies. Orgasm after orgasm washes over me. I scream my pleasure. Beg them not to stop. Plead.
“The dildo is pulled from me. A clit clip is fitted in place.
“After what seems an eternity, Victoria whispers in my ear. ‘Chrissy, we’re going to release you now. When we do, you will remain perfectly still until I tell you otherwise. Then you may remove the blindfold and get dressed.’
“I wait. And wait. The sound of a printer spewing print after print catches my attention. Then nothing but silence. ‘You may remove the blindfold.’ When I do, the guests are seated just as they were. Scattered around me are pictures of my; adventure. At Victoria’s feet: my clothes; neatly folded. ‘Dress for us.’ she says. I stand, and she hands me my panties. With as much grace as I can muster, I put them on. She then hands me my skirt; bra; blouse; and lastly my shoes. I perform a reverse striptease. When I’ve finished, I collect the pictures and make my exit.”
With a self-satisfied smirk, I leaned back in my chair, and stared lustfully into Aaron’s eyes.
“Not bad; Chrissy.” he said with a raised eyebrow, “Not bad at all. The only question: do I fuck you right here and now; or do I wait until we get home?”
“Wait til you get her home.” Tina said, as she served our dinners, “If you don’t, everybody’s gonna want a turn with her . . . especially after all that. . .”
***************************************************************************************** “Get undressed.”
As quickly as I could, I took off my clothes and laid down on our bed. Aaron pushed shut the dresser drawer and tossed three lengths of rope onto the pillow next to me. Roughly, he rolled me onto my side and pulled the butt plug from me. “On your back.”
I shifted around until I was comfortably positioned.
“Spread your legs. Wide.”
I complied, as he picked up one length of the soft, cotton rope; drew my right ankle toward the far corner of the bed and tied it there. Drew a deep breath as he repeated on my left.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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