He laughed. It was a warm laugh, and I melted once again. “Face the wall,” he said finally.
I did so, without a moment’s hesitation. I knew what was coming, and I welcomed it. The first strike of the crop caught me on the ass, as did the second. The third didn’t touch my flesh at all; instead, I felt the percussion pass through the jeweled end of the plug and transfer deep inside my body. My legs buckled, but the restraints kept me upright. He hit the back of my thighs and my lower back, and I forced myself to stand. I knew that I would be rewarded for my obedience.
Knock, Knock! Someone was at the door. My blood turned to ice, and I silently prayed that it was only the hotel staff. In no time at all, there was another knock- this time, more insistent and aggressive.
I looked Chris in the eyes; in them, I found confidence. In them, I found my strength. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere,” he winked before closing the closet door. I was left in the dark and strained my hearing to try and see who it was at the door- the door that I heard being opened.
“Yes?” It was Chris’ voice.
“Where’s Jaime?” Shit. It was Andrew. My husband had found me. And he sounded angry; he could get violent when he was angry. I stayed very quiet, hoping that the problem would just somehow go away.
“Did you try the lost and found?” Chris replied coolly. I almost laughed at his joke, and probably would have given different circumstances.
“Her car’s here, where the hell is she?”
“She’s inside. Do you want to see her?”
What the fuck is he doing? I thought to myself. The thought that my husband would find me like this… I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, the door opened. And there, staring at me, was my nude lover and my angry husband. I felt very vulnerable; hell, I was very vulnerable.
Andrew didn’t take his eyes off me, but I knew the question was for Chris. “You fucked my wife?” he asked, with the quiet simmering anger that terrified me. The last time I heard that tone in his voice… I didn’t like to think about the last time.
“Not yet,” Chris replied. I expected Andrew to attack him right there, but he didn’t. In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off me. I could see them explore my body, taking in every mark on my skin. I could also see his cock starting to swell in his pants. “Look at her,” Chris continued. “Her smooth flesh… the red marks on her body- my marks. Jaime, turn around.”
I did it, once again without hesitation. I hadn’t even realized that I was obeying his order in front of my husband. It just seemed natural to do. I heard Andrew gasp when he saw the jeweled end of the plug, and my red and bruised ass cheeks.
“You like it, don’t you?” Chris asked.
I looked over my shoulder. Andrew was nodding; there was embarrassment, maybe even shame in his eyes. But I could see that he really did. My fear started to give way to relief. And then, finally, to interest. My faith in Chris seemed to be well-placed.
“Would you like to try?” he asked.
Andrew’s voice came out as more of a hoarse whisper. “Yes,” he replied.
“Then ask her.”
“What?”
“Ask Jaime if you can whip her. It’s up to her if she allows it or not.”
A sudden rush of excitement flooded over my body, as intense as the looming orgasm had been earlier. I wondered if my husband would ask me to do what Chris already had. If he could overcome his pride to seek my permission.
“Jaime…” he began. He paused for a long moment. “Can I whip you?”
I thought about it. There was no way he could be as good at it as Chris, but it was an interesting development, and I wanted to see where it would go. “Yes,” I said finally, looking over my shoulder at the two men. In my husband’s eyes, there was both surprise and excitement. In Chris’, satisfaction.
Chris handed Andrew the crop, who lifted it high over his head. He brought it down, stopping only when Chris caught his arm in mid-strike. Andrew looked as confused as I felt, but he didn’t pull away.
“No, no, no,” Chris corrected. “You’re not hitting a baseball. Like this.” He took the crop from my husband’s hand and sent the tip biting into my ass. It snapped against my sensitive skin, drawing a fresh squeal from my lips. The thought that my husband had just watched… and just allowed… another man to whip my ass was indescribable.
“Okay,” Andrew said, taking the crop once more. His technique was sloppy and his strike was weak, but at least he hit my ass. With Chris’ direction, he quickly improved, striking me several more times. I looked back at him; he was very hard, and there was lust in his eyes. But Chris was the one that I still wanted. I hoped that I would still have a chance to have him. My pussy was still wet and throbbing, but today it belonged to him.
“That’s enough,” Chris said finally, taking the crop from Andrew. “Now, I’m going to fuck your wife. You can stay and watch, or you can leave. And if you’re very lucky, maybe I’ll let you cum.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He removed my restraints and let me towards the bed, and I followed dutifully, passing my husband with only a brief glance.
I wondered what Andrew would do- what choice he would make. I nearly laughed out loud when I saw that he was following us like a lost puppy.
“The chair,” Chris said, pointing. Andrew sat, obediently, watching as Chris threw me onto the bed. I parted my legs as I fell, opening myself to him. By that time, I was desperate for Chris’ cock, and I didn’t care if Andrew watched or if he left. But, since he chose to stay, he was going to watch his wife give herself over to another man completely; to moan like a whore while he fucked me. To beg for his cum. If nothing else, I would give Andrew a good show, even if it was actually all for Chris’ benefit.
“Fuck me, Chris,” I begged. “Take my married pussy and make it yours!”
He didn’t wait. The results of our foreplay were marked on my skin. I was ready; he was ready. And in one quick thrust, he was deeply inside me. His cock was much larger than my husband’s, and he reached places inside me that my husband never had; places he never could. I moaned deeply, already feeling the spreading warmth of my long-denied orgasm.
He fucked me in long, deep strokes, and I wrapped my legs around him. Each time he pushed into my, I bucked my hips against him, eager to have him as deep inside me as possible. I could feel his ball sac hit my ass with each thrust, and I knew that it was full of cum; full of warm seed that I wanted inside me. I wanted him to use my body for his own pleasure, and to find release from it. Just the thought of pleasuring the man that had awakened my deepest desires was enough to send me to the edge. I only hoped that, this time, he would let me finish.
He shifted his body, holding onto my shoulders for leverage and pulling me against him with every passionate stroke. From his breathing and moans, I could tell that he was close. Our bodies moved together in a sensual rhythm, where both of us were rapidly approaching climax. Our eyes locked and he pushed inside me one more time- harder, this time, as deep as he could. He let out a deep, satisfied groan, and I could feel his cock swell and release inside me when he came. I could feel it filling me, shooting deep inside my pussy.
When he came, it sent me over the edge. I moaned and whispered his name over and over again as I came around his cock. I could feel my pussy clench and release rhythmically, ensuring that I got every drop of his seed. I lost myself in the sensation, and together we rode our bodies through the explosion of pleasure.
Eventually, the feelings subsided and we basked in the afterglow of an incredible shared orgasm. It took me a moment to register what sexual sound I still heard; I had forgotten all about my husband. I looked over to where he sat and found him aggressively stroking his cock; he had just watched his wife get thoroughly fucked and cum on another man’s cock, and he was stroking his cock because of it. I couldn’t explain the feeling of pride that I felt at that moment, but I liked it.
Chris was watching, as well, but his expression was one of tolerant amusemen
t. He looked at me and smiled into my eyes. “Should we let him cum?” he asked, laughter in his voice.
I thought for a long moment. I looked at my husband, who looked back with a pleading and desperate expression. “No,” I said finally. “Maybe next time… if he’s good.”
Chapter 2
The car ride home was extremely quiet. It would have been uncomfortable, if I wasn’t still floating in a blissful haze from my earlier encounter. I could still feel Chris’ cum leaking from my pussy and soaking through my panties. I shuddered slightly; I loved that sensation.
I looked over at my husband, who was driving. He looked torn. I suppose that I could understand that; just a short time before, he was watching me getting roughly fucked by another man. In fact, my ass was still tender from his whips and spankings. He watched all that, and hadn’t been allowed to cum despite how badly he obviously wanted to. Our relationship had changed, and I liked it.
With the natural high that all submissives know and love wearing off, I noticed that we were speeding. Andrew was coasting through stop signs and rushing through yellow lights. He was also very erect- something I could see by the noticeable bulge in his pants. Not as large as Chris’, of course, but it was still an indication that he had enjoyed watching us fuck. Maybe he deserved a reward. It was just like training a puppy.
I rested my hand on his thigh as we drove, gently sliding it across his inner thigh and towards his cock. But I stopped just before I reached his cum-filled balls. For some reason, it seemed very right to me that Chris had been allowed to empty his, while my husband’s remained full.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” I cooed. I slid my hand further and started gently massaging his sac.
“Yes,” he admitted, without even a moment of hesitation or thought. There was both shame and desire in his voice.
“You liked watching him hold me down and fuck me? Watching him use your wife’s pussy and make her moan like a whore, like you never could?”
“Yes,” he said again. This time, there was a trace of excitement in his voice as well.
“Good,” I smiled. “Because he’s going to be dong that again- as often as he wants to.” I slid my hand further, feeling his engorged shaft which was straining against his pants. “Mmm, you like that idea, don’t you?” I purred, stroking him slowly. “You want him to fuck me again?” I started stroking him faster; I could see that he was having trouble concentrating.
Perhaps it was for that reason that he didn’t answer my question right away. At least that was the only reason that made sense to me, because he obviously did want it, judging by his raging hard on. I had made sounds that he had never heard from me before, and I knew that he wanted to hear them again. I moved my hand away from his cock and repeated the question. “You want Chris to fuck me again, don’t you?” It came out sounding more like an irrefutable fact than an actual question.
“Yes, I do,” he said quietly, as though he were admitting it to himself as well as to me.
I started stroking him again. His reward. “Good. His cum is still leaking out of my pussy,” I revealed. The car skidded to a halt. I screamed with surprise, but that lasted only for a moment. I hadn’t even realized that we were home already.
Andrew practically jumped out of the car, and literally ran to open my door. There was something lustful and wild in his eyes. He grabbed me by the hand and led me into the house. By the time we reached the bedroom, he was already completely nude.
But I was in no such hurry. Far from it, I found that I enjoyed playing the role that I had so recently discovered. I took off my shirt and my bra; he had seen my tits so many times before, but this time it was as though he was seeing them for the first time ever.
Next, I took off my pants, but I left my panties on as I laid on the bed. I lightly ran my fingers over the soft, silky fabric, smiling when I felt the moisture that had leaked through. I knew that it was a mixture of his cum and my pussy juices. I couldn’t help but slip a single finger inside, feeling the fluids that leaked from my hole and coated the lips.
But Andrew wasn’t able to wait any longer. He lacked Chris’ subtlety and patience, but I liked his enthusiasm. The moment I spread my legs apart, he was between them, falling onto his hands and knees with his face inches from my pussy. He looked like a house pet begging for a treat. And perhaps he had earned one.
I pulled my panties to the side and heard him inhale sharply at the sight.
“Can I… touch it?” he asked.
Good, he had learned his new place very quickly. We were both still learning, I supposed. I propped my head up so I could watch and nodded.
“Thank you,” he mumbled. But he was already distracted by my well-fucked pussy. He lightly traced my slit, collecting the juices that coated it. He then pulled his finger away, leaving a trail that briefly connected my body to his, and studied it with single-minded fascination.
I watched, wondering what he would do next. He was faced with the very tangible aftermath of my infidelity; if he was going to change his perspective on all this, this would be when he would do it. “Touch it,” I said finally, breaking him from the spell.
“What? I’m not…” he trailed off. I could see the temptation on his face.
“Touch it,” I said again. I pulled my panties even further to the side, as though punctuating my demand.
He gave in, doing as he was told. Tentatively at first, he collected the juices with his finger, collecting the juices that dripped out of my well-fucked slit. And then, he smiled.
“Now,” I began. I wondered just how far he would go, now that he had gotten a taste. “Push that cum back inside me. I want it inside.”
I moaned when I felt his finger slide into my pussy, pushing inside as deep as he could possibly go. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned. “Get every last drop! Keep it all in my pussy!” Talking to my husband that way, telling him what to do and humiliating him… the feeling was amazing.
He started sliding his finger in and out of me, fucking me with it as I got closer and closer to release. He grabbed the crotch of my panties and held them in place, freeing my own hands to run over my body and heightening the eroticism of the experience. Already I could feel the beginning exhilaration of an approaching orgasm, giving myself over to the sensations as he did everything he could to please me. It was as though that were his only purpose. And maybe it really was.
With a moan and a scream, I came. I pressed my pussy against his hand, riding the sensation. I grasped his wrist and held him close to me, ensuring that he couldn’t pull away. But he didn’t even try to escape my grasp; he touched and teased my pussy until the climax faded.
“You’ve been a good boy,” I said between heaving breaths. “Now I’m going to sleep.”
I could see it in his eyes. He was disappointed, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t complain and he didn’t argue. “Okay,” he mumbled. I was a little bit surprised at how easy it had been to break him.
I smiled to myself and turned over, falling into a peaceful sleep.
…
The next day, very little seemed to have changed at work. I was actually pretty relieved when I came in because I wasn't quite sure what to expect. But, all the same, it seemed like something we really needed to talk about.
I knocked on his door before poking my head inside.
Chris was on the phone, and he held up a single finger to say, 'one moment.'
"No. Start with Ontario. We'll launch in Winnipeg next year."
I knew what he was talking about- we had been working on the Canadian expansion, and I had sat in on all of his meetings and planning sessions. I probably could have handled the process from that point on, but of course it was still his show.
I was nervous, sitting there while waiting for him to finish his conversation. A part of me wanted to know… a part of me didn’t want to ask. Finally, he hung up the phone and turned to me.
“What’s up?” he asked. This took me by surprise- I thought it would be very
obvious what I was here to discuss.
“Last night…” I began.
He smiled. I could tell then that he had been thinking about it as well. “What about it?”
“I have to know. What was it? Was it just about sex, or is there anything more to it?” My heart ached. The pit of my stomach burned. I felt like I wanted to cry as I formed the next question, giving voice to my greatest fear. “Was I just stress relief to you?” I couldn’t shake the fear that I had put everything at risk for him, and that it didn’t mean the same thing to him.
His face softened, and I saw a certain tenderness in his eyes. He didn’t answer, but instead rose from his expensive leather chair and circumnavigated the desk. He stood only inches away from me; even though he wasn’t much taller than me, I felt so small next to him. But I held firm, waiting for his answer.
Her Unchained Heart (Adult Contemporary Romance) Page 6
