seekingservices
Posts: 11
Joined: 1/17/2005
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I was enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon by channel surfing while laying on my couch. It was all good, doing nothing, and I was quite enjoying it. My partner had run out to "get a few things" and it's just as well because I hadn't even taken off my housecoat and I had no intention of getting dressed. I surfed by reruns of I Love Lucy, I surfed by a football game long enough to admire some butts in tight pants, and cruised right on to the Playboy channel. I chuckled at the soft-core porn but realized that it'd been awhile. My hand drifted through the folds of my housecoat, and in the spirit of laziness I softly flicked and rubbed with no intention of making myself orgasm, but rather to just enjoy some mild stimulation. The most I that I could achieve by the gentle wandering of my fingers was that I'd be primed for my lover later on.
I heard the key in the door and removed my fingers, licked them, and changed the channel back to I Love Lucy. My lover walked in the room just as Ricky was bellowing "LUCY! You have some 'splainin' to dooo!" He smiled at me, and I smiled back at him. His face is just luscious, and I love to stare at it. He walked up to me and leaned in, for what I thought was a kiss. He hadn't said a word to me up to that point, not even hello, not a recount of what he did while he was out, nothing at all. There may have been a split second where I thought that was curious, for him to say nothing at all, but a split second was all I had...
Instead of kissing me he grabbed the back of my hair hard and yanked me to my feet. My housecoat which had been loosened by my earlier playing fell open baring my body to him. He looked at me from head to toe and I recognized that look on his face, that sadistic look, that look that told me I'd have a ride that I would not soon forget; one that I would feel for days. I wondered what brought it on, why would he come home from - where did he go? The hardware store maybe? I hadn't been paying attention, but why would he come home like this from anywhere?
Still, he did not speak. He dragged me as I grinned stupidly into my bedroom. On the way up I imagined what he'd do. I thought, he'll throw me down, pin me, and rape me. He'll want me to struggle, of course, those games aren't unusual. I prepared to be thrown down hard upon my bed, or even the floor, but it didn't happen. One of the kitchen chairs was placed by the corner of my bed. I hadn't noticed that he'd moved it there. Roughly, he directed me into it. Then, he finally spoke.
"Stay." he said. It wasn't a request; it was a command. I didn't mind playing this game, and merely sat pondering what direction it might take.
Deftly, he tied me to the chair with my legs spread and fastened to the bottom of the chair legs. Sitting there spread, I thought of how nice his tongue was going to feel on me. Once he was satisfied with my bonds, he looked at me, smiled softly, and brushed my cheek with his hand. His face hardened again and he slapped me. My head reeled from the smack and when I recovered he was behind me. My breath was already accelerating when he slipped the blindfold over my eyes and tied it tightly. I couldn't see anything, and I waited for the whip, or his tongue, or his hand which might have been hard, harsh, and brutal, or just as easily soft, loving, and tender.
Nothing happened. I just sat there, feeling the soft breeze in the wake of his leaving. What?
It's interesting how immediately one's other senses become acute when one of them is taken away. In the air that he left behind I could discern a scent that wasn't entirely his, there was something else, diffuse, but certainly there. His footsteps fell softly, but I could still determine that he'd left, was going downstairs, and opening the door. As he came back, soft as the footfalls were, I knew he was not alone. I remained silent. I pulled on my binds, and they were as expected, tight.
The creak of my bed was the next thing I heard, and shuffling. Deeply, I breathed in through my nose. The scent was much stronger now, there was definitely someone else in the room, and that someone else was definitely female. She wore no perfume, but she'd recently showered and the aroma of her shampoo and her soap filled my brain with an image. My wondering overtook me, and as committed as I was to remaining silent, I had to ask.
"What are you doing?"
The reply that I received was a moan that was barely distinguishable, hardly more than a yeilding sigh. A small yelp followed the moan. Sharper, more pronounced, bordering on a scream. Visions were starting to form in my head. He was playing with her, probably sticking his fingers inside her, and rubbing her pussy.
"What's going on?" I said, shortly.
The reply was a loud moan, followed by the distinct sound of a slap, and then an all out scream. He just made her cum. Hard even. I was so confused. Unbidden, tears formed in my eyes. No, I'm not the jealous type, but I didn't get this, I didn't understand what was happening. Why wouldn't he answer me? Why wouldn't he have asked me? I would have been fine with it all, but at least I would have understood.
As her rapid breathing subsided it began to rise again, although it was a gentle rise. Instead of being forcefully thrown into orgasm, she was being brought up tenderly. He was going down on her. With that realization, more tears welled into my eyes and I sobbed, not willing to speak again only to be ignored. She gasped and moaned softly, and uttered a word, that was only remotely audible.
"Yes..."
Despite my confusion and frustration I began to envision it from the beginning from her eyes. She entered my room, saw me bound to a chair on the edge of my bed, and proceeded to be forced into orgasm within what was probably record time for her, in a way that she'd never cum before. I well know what he's capable of, and it seemed like he was pulling out all the stops. I felt his tongue against me through the sounds of her body moving and her throat failing to comply with her desire to remain silent. He'd probably told her not to make a noise. I could imagine him doing that, telling her "Don't you make a sound or I'll gag you."
The vibration in the air became slightly rhythmic, she was getting close. My own pussy started to well up. I know that touch, I know that tongue, I know it all so well, but you don't girl. You don't know at all. You have no idea what you're getting, what's coming next, or that you'll be cross-eyed with pleasure by the time you decide you're done. You'll be done first, of that I'm certain.
The woman whose pussy was beneath the tongue of my lover screamed out, I could feel the pushing in her echo, I could sense the incredulity in her tone, I could hear the gush. Then I could feel my own. The chair was soaked, he made me cum too - the bastard.
"PRICK!" I screamed out.
His smile was tangible. Before the final note of my scream dissipated he was on her, fucking her. I could hear the rocking, the sounds of his skin pounding against hers, the grunts, and groans, and moans, and whispers. I could hear him fucking her hard, I could smell her pussy, but I couldn't look and I couldn't touch, I could only sit there. The woman bucked up into him as he gave her everything, hard. He was being exceptionally brutal. He was fucking her like I love to be fucked, as hard as possible, deep, until he shakes the inner core of my being, until I cum as one with the Universe, until I don't know my own goddamned name. I came again, and I couldn't stop. I was howling along with his friend, all alone and bound, unable to do anything at all and unable to control it. I could feel the hot liquid running down my legs, cooling as it neared the floor. I was losing my breath, I was screaming loud, all without a single touch I was coming with stars in my covered eyes.
The woman screamed "STOP!! PLEASE STOP!!" and I smiled inwardly.
"Don't stop, don't STOP!" I screamed in protest. "MORE! Fuck with me more!"
"Please...." she whimpered, pathetically. "I can't... can't.... "
He stopped. The tears were running down my cheeks, the cum was flowing hard out of me as my body convulsed. It started to slow. If he would just say something it would go on... it would continue. I heard her scream in pain, then felt her face thrust between my legs hard.
"Lick it up." he said, and it was enough to make me cum again, the mere sound of his voice was enough at that point to send me back over the edge. She didn't touch my flesh though, she licked my cum from the chair.
I heard some more scuffling as she lapped up my juices from the vinyl seat cover.
"Clean her." he said. I felt her mouth on my ankle, then up my leg. The other side now. My thighs.
"NOW!" he screamed as her mouth thrust onto my pussy. *CRACK* within a second of that word, the whip lashed against my shoulders, and as the blood flowed from the welt, my pussy gushed volumes all over her face. She gasped, and I'm not certain how I was even aware of it. I could hear him laugh, I could hear her sob, I could feel every single atom of my existence thrust outward, exploding. No, bastard, no you won't...
"You will NEVER spend me!" I screamed. The whip crashed again. The trickle of blood down my back was refreshing, it gave me focus. "You PRICK you'll NEVER do it!" I bellowed as I came again on the face between my legs.
When I returned to earth I was lying on my bed and my lover was sleeping peacefully beside me, his breaths rising and falling in rippling waves. The woman was gone. The mess was cleaned. I touched his back and smiled.
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