The Crush: An Affair in Three Parts

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The Crush: An Affair in Three Parts Page 9

by Ben Boswell


  "Fuck, that's good," he moaned.

  I knew he was close, so I swallowed him deep. I had worked up to taking half his cock into my mouth, and when I did, I felt the now familiar swell and pulse as he filled my mouth and throat with jism.

  When he came, some of the frantic energy of the session dissipated. He pressed me down flat on my belly and straddled me on the bed. He started rubbing my neck, his strong hands squeezing the tension out of my muscles. It was frightening how well he seemed to know my body. I couldn’t help but wonder what he could do with me when he really got to know me. He massaged me up and down, relaxing me as much as possible given that my ass was still being stretched out by the butt plug.

  Then after several minutes, he shifted downward. He rubbed my ass cheeks, squeezing them, complimenting their firmness. He slid a hand between my legs, and gently fingered my pussy until I was moaning with delight. Then I felt him begin to play with the plug, pulling back on it until I whimpered and then letting it slide back in. Over and over he did that, each time, pulling it a little further out, each time opening my ass up a little wider.

  Then suddenly, the plug slipped out with an audible plop, and before I could respond he pressed it back in. He fucked my ass with the butt plug like that for several minutes. Then I felt him shift slightly, and the next time the plug slipped out, he quickly replaced it with the tip of his prick.

  I gasped. His cock was no larger than the plug, and it was softer, warmer, more pleasant, but it also didn't have that slimmer stem, so as he entered me there was no moment of relaxation, of relief. Instead, I was stretched, fully stretched open, continuously stretched open as he slowly began pumping back and forth. It was… amazing.

  "I knew you could do it," he moaned. "Do you like it?"

  "I don’t know," I moaned hoarsely, honestly.

  "Well, I do," he continued. "God, you have a beautiful ass. I could do this forever."

  He sodomized me carefully, gently, slowly filling me ever deeper. I could tell he loved it, and his pleasure was undeniably exciting.

  The sensation was completely overwhelming. After a few minutes, when he almost fully inside me, it was all I could think about. My entire consciousness was focused on the feel of his hard, thick member stretching my ass, filling me more completely than anything I'd ever experienced. It was that which scared me more than anything. His ability to drive everything but him… and his prick… from my mind.

  I don't know how long it went on. A long time. He came inside me, a sudden hot rush in an unexpected place. When he finally pulled out, I was able to take stock of my condition. I was shaking and drenched with sweat. Even though he'd pulled out, I could still feel him inside me, my butt throbbing.

  He pulled a blanket over me and snuggled up close. He kissed my neck tenderly.

  "You did beautifully," he complimented me.

  "Thank you," I groaned softly, pleased that I had pleased him, and closed my eyes.

  ***

  He woke me after a short while.

  "Come on, Red, let's get cleaned up."

  He led me into the bathroom. I was shaky, dazed, almost in shock. Greg made the shower real hot, and we stepped in together. He washed me gently, the water coursing over body, and the steam filling my lungs. We kissed, passionately, just slowly exploring each other's bodies. After a while, he broke the embrace and stepped out of the shower, leaving me to continue relaxing in peace.

  When I stepped out, I noticed he'd left me a warm, fluffy towel and bathrobe, and also thoughtfully left me a hair dryer.

  I dried myself off and fixed my hair and then stepped out in the cool of his bedroom.

  Greg was waiting for me. Before I could say anything he reached up and placed a blindfold over my eyes. He then slid the robe off my shoulders and onto the floor. He took my wrists and wrapped them with some sort of fur-lined cuffs. Then he walked me over toward a corner of the room, and lifted my arms in the air. There was a soft clicking sound, and before I knew it, I was bound with my hands above my head. I tugged on the cuffs, but despite their softness, they were sturdy. There was another clicking sound, and I felt my arms pulled upward, until I was standing perfectly straight, my feet just barely on the ground.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, sort of amused.

  He didn't answer. Instead, when I next tried to speak, he quickly pressed a ball gag into my mouth, which he fastened firmly around my neck.

  "Greg, stop!" I tried to say. But what came out was more like, Mrrhhhmm, muhmm.

  He chuckled softly. Then I felt something hard poking at my leg.

  "Do you know what that is?" He asked.

  I shook my head no.

  "It's a riding crop." He paused to let that sink in.

  I felt him slide the hard leather over my belly and across my nipples. I gasped, or would have if I could with the ball gag in my mouth. My stomach did a flip.

  "Have you ever been disciplined?" He asked rapping my butt cheek gently with the crop.

  My heart pounded in my chest. I shook my head no.

  "I didn't think so. With that creamy white skin, the marks would be there forever."

  He pressed the crop between my legs, up between my labia and slide it back and forth against my clit.

  "Maybe we'll play with this a little later."

  And then he was gone. I heard him walk away and go down the stairs. From below, I heard him turn on some music, though I couldn't make it out through the floor, feeling as much as hearing the bass line only.

  I began to panic a little. What did I really know about Greg? And now, here I was, trapped in his house, strung up. He'd already sodomized me, consensually yes, but still an extreme act. He'd hinted at sharing me with a bunch of strangers. Suggested he would whip with me a riding crop. We didn't even have a safe word, not that it would have mattered since I was thoroughly gagged.

  For not the first time, I had the opportunity to think about the past several days, my choices and my life.

  And then it hit me. The notion that I had to submit to Greg to find out if I wanted to be with him was bullshit. I knew I didn't want to be with him. I knew I wanted to be back with Dave.

  I was here, in this position, not because I wanted to make a choice, but simply because I wanted the experience, the experience of being well and thoroughly fucked with no limits and no boundaries. Just pure selfish pursuit of pleasure.

  Whether it was due to the somewhat confused view of sex I inherited from my mother or my own lack of sexual experience, I'd been having trouble making sense of my feelings. I was looking for an existential crisis to justify myself, but really, I was just horny and curious, and for the first time really exploring my sexual horizons. And oddly enough, that final realization, as pathetic and immoral as it was, set me free from all the angst that had been tearing at me for weeks.

  I was being selfish and cruel. Yeah, my background primed me for this moment. But it was what it was. And I just had to own it, try ultimately to make amends, and accept the consequences of my actions.

  I shook my head, and would have laughed if I hadn’t been gagged. And then I waited.

  ***

  I heard some movement from downstairs. Voices maybe? Then footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. From behind me I could hear someone breathing.

  "Greg, is that you?" Mrhruf ruf ra ru?

  No answer. I could sense the person approaching. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, I shivered involuntarily. I heard clothes being shed, fabric shifting, a zipper opening.

  Though I was expecting it, I was still startled when he touched me, reaching around me and fondling my breasts. They were a man's hands. Strong, like Greg's, but rougher maybe? I couldn't be sure. My senses were heightened, but different.

  While one hand pinched my nipples, the other slid down over my belly and down between my legs. His finger probed insistently at my sex, spreading my labia, seeking the warmth and dampness inside. And I was damp. More than that. Wet. My thighs sticky.


  The man was pressed up against me from behind. He didn't feel as tall as Greg, but then again I was stretched out to the ceiling. I felt a rapidly hardening cock begin to rub against my ass.

  He was now fondling between my legs with both hands, one from the front the other from the back. A finger slid into my pussy from behind, while another pressed against my clit. I was squirming side-to-side, back and forth, at least as far as I could strung up as I was. It felt good, naughty and exciting.

  The man sighed, and there was something in the tone that struck me a wholly unfamiliar. I gasped and a wave of panic rushed through me. This was the beginning of the gangbang Greg had suggested. Were there more voices downstairs now? How many men had he brought? Was I hoping it was more or fewer.

  I tried to free myself from the cuffs, but it was no use.

  "No stop!" I shouted. Ro rhrup.

  But to no avail. And anyway, I didn’t want it to stop; I was perversely grateful that the gag prevented me from objecting effectively. The man stepped in close and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me back into him. His cock was now between my legs, pumping to get inside me. There was no escape, and then with a rough thrust and a satisfied gasp he penetrated my willing cunt.

  His dick felt huge, like Greg's, but with my legs together any cock would likely feel big. As he thrust inside me, it didn't feel as long as Greg's, but then again we'd never had sex standing straight up either.

  My analytical mind tried to take over. What were my options? How could I get out of this? But working against that was the insistent thrusting inside me. I know some women get bored during sex, their minds wanders, they make grocery lists, think about work, plan their next manicures. I can't do that. When there is a dick sawing inside me, it soon becomes all I can think of. And this was the case now as well.

  He reached around and played with my clit, two fingers making hard circles. Normally it would be too much, too rough, but with this man, whoever he really was, it felt just right. I groaned into the gag. Spit ran down my chin. And then I came explosively.

  Before long the man finished inside me with a series of shivers and grunts. And then he was gone. I expected another visitor immediately. But none came at first. Instead, I was there alone, straining to make out sounds from downstairs, feeling cum dripping from my pussy and down my leg, even as my hands began to tingle and my muscles begin to ache.

  ***

  I have no idea how long I hung there. A half hour? An hour? More? It wasn't quite sensory deprivation. My aching muscles, throbbing butt, the feel of sticky and cold jism on my inner thighs, drool dripping off my chin, served as a constant reminder of what I had been doing and probably what I still had ahead of me.

  Then there were footsteps coming down the hall and into the room. I tensed, expecting another set of rough hands on my body, being penetrated by another strange cock. It was scary. I had no control at all over my situation. I was completely at the mercy of whatever would come next. It was frightening and... well... oddly exciting.

  The man... or was it a woman this time... seemed to be able to read my mind, and let the moment linger. I thought about the riding crop. Was that what was coming next? I shivered, my stomach doing a flip.

  Then, just as I was about to burst from anticipation, I felt the tension on my arms diminish. The cuffs were unhooked from over my head, and then snapped together behind my back. Strong hands pushed me firmly down to my knees, and then as one hand grabbed a handful of my hair, the other removed the ball gag.

  "Greg is that you?" I asked desperately.

  But the only answer I received was a turgid cock pressing insistently against my lips. It was big. It had to be Greg, unless he somehow had access to an endless supply of abnormally well-hung men. He pulled me forward, off-balance, and with my hands bound behind me, I was helpless to prevent him from thrusting deep into mouth. He fucked my face roughly, pushing his cock into my mouth deep until I gagged, over and over. I must have been a mess, gasping for breath, slobber dripping from my mouth, my eyes tearing up. But I took it, forcing myself to relax as best as I could, allowing him to thrust deeper than I'd thought possible. Deeper than I'd ever been able to take Greg before. I could hear him moaning softly, obviously relishing the feel of it.

  Then, again without warning, he lifted me by my hair to my feet and roughly pushed me forward until I collided with the bed and fell face down onto the mattress. He replaced the ball gag in my mouth, and then entered me from behind, roughly hammering my pussy with deep, hard strokes that quickly kindled my excitement. Being gagged, I had no need for restraint. I screamed in pleasure, the emotional release just overwhelming.

  I heard him chuckle. It sounded like Greg, and as relief flooded through me, all the built up tension from the past hours burst out of me. I came hard, spasming uncontrollably, bucking like a bronco, screeching into the ball gag. It went on and on, wave after wave of excitement wracking my body. And when I finally finished, my entire body felt sore, tired, drained.

  But he wasn't done, and as he enjoyed me, he moaned softly, and again suddenly I was struck with the sensation that this was a stranger after all. It is not like I was so experienced with Greg that I could recognize his every sound. I just couldn't be sure.

  The man continued to screw my pussy for a while, and then he pulled out and pressed his slimy cock against my anus. A quick thrust and he was inside me. I squealed again into the ball gag. I felt stretched to the limit, but this time I knew I could take it. He seemed to know it as well. He sodomized me roughly, a long, hard relentless buttfucking. After a few minutes, he began adding to the experience by slapping my ass, gently at first, then increasingly firmly, until my butt cheeks felt like they were aflame.

  Then he came, filling my ass with another load of jism.

  The man left me there, still bound and gagged face down on the bed, every orifice aching. My mouth was sore from his cock and the gag, my pussy raw from being fucked so hard, and my ass, throbbing and leaking come.

  ***

  It was another couple of minutes before I heard another set of footsteps, and felt another man touching me. He was gentle and tender. He removed the ball gag and kissed my cheek. He removed the cuffs and massaged the soreness out of my arms and shoulders. He got a warm washcloth and cleaned me up. And then finally, he removed the blindfold, and kissed me gently.

  He looked at me expectantly.

  "That was amazing Greg," I gushed. It had been a real once-in-a-lifetime experience. And then I continued, "Now, please drive me home."

  For a moment he was surprised. Then maybe a touch crestfallen. And then he recomposed his handsome face into a serene smile.

  "Anything you say, Red."

  He drove my car home and then took a cab back to his place. It was nearly midnight when I got back. I'd been at Greg's for nearly ten hours altogether. I barely had the strength to climb into bed, and once there I collapsed in a dead sleep for then next ten hours.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I woke up the next morning feeling placid for the first time in months. There was something about having let myself go, completely and fully, that apparently liberated me from the emotional turmoil that had been roiling inside me ever since I had first met Greg.

  And there was also clarity. I wasn't cut out for pursuing mindless passion. It left me anxious and drained. I was tired of hurting Dave. Tired of letting my animal instincts drive my behavior. Tired of the guilt.

  Many addicts come to this point in their disease where they realize, finally, what they are throwing away by continuing. I was at a crossroads. Allow myself to be a sex-addicted junkie, or get healthy. And like an addict, I knew that getting straight would be difficult. I'd hurt Dave so badly that I wasn't sure I could fix things. But I knew I wanted to try.

  I called Dave, but he didn't pick up. So I slowly made my way to my office. Greg dropped by. Still handsome, still charming, still obviously interested. And yet, there was nothing there. Well, not quite nothing. I couldn't deny that he had
given me some very, very pleasurable and different experiences. But I'd stepped back across some sort of boundary.

  He apparently sensed it right away.

  "What's the matter, Red? Did I do something wrong?"

  For a moment, my emotions flared. I wanted to shout back, Yes, you asshole. You took advantage of me, of my vulnerabilities. You knew I was married, but you couldn't resist turning me into your fuck slut.

  But that was wrong too. It was my choice to let him into my life. To transgress. He used me, yes. But I used him too.

  "No," I said softly. "We had fun. Now it's over."

  "Oh come on Red. It can be like last night all the time."

  I shook my head slightly.

  "I don't mean the cuffs and that shit," he continued. "Though you did enjoy that." I smiled in confirmation. "I mean the passion. The excitement. You can't put the toothpaste back in the tube. You know you want this."

  "Greg, God, I don't know how to explain this. Yeah. It was good. I'll be, um, thinking about it for a long, long time. Great memories. But it has to be just that. That isn't me, or, well, not the whole me. It isn't that I don't want the crazy, it's just that I am not willing to give up what I would need to give up in order to have it."

  "Oh, so this is about your husband?"

  "Yes."

  He sighed. "Red, I can give you everything he can. And more."

  "No, actually, you can't. You just can't. And really I doubt you'd want to. Look, maybe we both got carried away. But now, you need to go back to your life. You're constantly on the road, and you know you like the chase. You're too good at it not to. And I need to go back to being, well, normal. A good wife, maybe a good mother."

  "You're wrong. I could settle down," he countered. I shook my head. "And anyway, what makes you think you can go back? Where is your husband anyway? Did you tell him you were with me again last night?"

 

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