There was no way she was going to ask how he found their way back to the cabin with no landmarks, no compass and no map to follow. No way she was going to give him the satisfaction. It was silly of her, even childish, and she knew it. But, as she so often reminded her husband, it’s a woman’s prerogative to be silly and childish at any time. And this was going to be one of those times. Still, he’d unerringly led them back here. No hesitation. No drifting. No mistakes. That made it more than upsetting. It made it infuriating. Well, she still had a few tricks she could play that would give him a taste of his own medicine. Even if he did end up liking it in the end.
Back inside the cabin she suggested that he put together that contraption they’d discovered, while she’d find some way to amuse herself, but still be nearby if he needed a hand. She waited until he returned, dragging the straps and poles behind him, before she began to put her own plan into action.
Step one immediately got his attention, as she stripped off her top and carelessly threw it on the bed. When he stopped to admire her bare breasts, she made a shooing gesture to indicate that he should turn his attention back to the task at hand. She had to suppress a smile, knowing that she’d already flustered him. She lay back onto the bed’s massive pile of pillows, watching him as he studied the contraption’s confusing jumble of parts. Every time he paused to look at her, she pointedly nodded her head at the parts strewn across the floor, as if she was royalty and he was a mere servant. When he was finally spending more time on his project than looking at her, she put the next step into effect.
Lazily, languidly, sexily, she pushed down her shorts, then lifted her legs and scooched them down her body, pausing once they were dangling from her toes, and then flipped them into the air and right into his work space. She left her legs extended and watched with amusement as his gaze swept up from her manicured toes, up between her legs, where her sheer bikini panties just barely covered her swelling mound and moistening slit. It felt like she was undressing for him for the first time again, and despite the fact that she was teasing him cruelly, she was also very pleased that she’d so thoroughly captured his attention. She let his gaze linger in a way that she hoped made him ache, then demurely closed her legs and once again shooed his attention back to his construction project. It was fun to make him crazy, but it was also turning her on.
She waited again until he was deeply engrossed, then put step three into motion. Taking the mysterious key from the night stand, she clambered over the bed and retrieved the box from inside the trunk, her firm breasts dangling provocatively just a few feet from his face. But he barely glanced up. Was her game growing tired and old? Feeling just a bit exasperated, she worked the key into the lock and popped open the box. Her eyes grew wide. Though she’d expected something secret, she hadn’t expected this.
The box was full of sex toys. Vibrators and dildos, to be specific. In all sizes and colors. And in all degrees of realism, from eggs to tubes to extremely realistic cocks, fully helmeted and strongly veined. She thought back to the note about everything being cleaned and sanitized, and even though she felt a little squeamish, her curiosity won out and she began removing her new discoveries from the box, twisting and turning them to see what delights each was designed to impart. A quick glance showed that he was still absorbed in his project. Now she could make step three even more distracting.
Rummaging around in the box, she selected a realistic dildo, complete with synthetic balls, about six inches long and plenty thick. Working behind the lid of the box, she coated it with some lubricant that had conveniently been left in the box. Then, slowly, so as not to attract his attention, she sat back amongst the pillows, placed a big pillow in her lap, and squirmed out of her panties. With that removal accomplished, she pushed the pillow aside and spread her legs, her feet flat on the bed and her pussy pointed right at him. He didn’t even look up.
Smiling wickedly, she began rubbing the cock head up and down along her slit, the lubricant leaving a wet trail all along her engorged pussy lips. She probed a little deeper, letting the head part her lips, but not venturing into her deep wet hole. Patience, she counseled herself. That would come soon enough. She’d been silent to this point, but she was still amazed that he hadn’t looked her way. Time to deal with that. Carefully, as smoothly as a cat, she set aside her new toy and pulled one of the big, deep pillows under her ass, so her pussy would be propped up and clearly on display. Then, she grabbed the dildo again, reveling in the erotic feel of its massive weight against her cunt, her hole stretching, stretching to accommodate its satisfying girth. With it finally positioned halfway inside her, she thumbed the switch and turned it on, the vibration buzzing through her body, from her tits to her toes.
That sound, finally, got his attention, and she grinned in triumph as his head snapped up and his mouth dropped open. Knowing she’d already won this round, she just as quickly ignored him, shutting her eyes and directing all of her attention to the fuck stick now pulsating so pleasantly inside her hole. Knowing that he was looking, staring, mesmerized, she prodded and pulled the vibrator in and out of her, the buzzing growing muffled as she pressed it home, then growing louder as she freed it from the wet walls of her inner prison. She couldn’t stand not seeing his reaction though, and decided on a compromise, watching him through slitted eyelids, appearing disdainful of him while enjoying her command of his attention.
Soon, though, she surrendered to the pure ecstasy of it, the vibration that set her clit to tingling while the fullness made her hunger for more. Her husband liked to watch her do this to herself, fuck herself with a vibrator while she fantasized about the exotic and erotic, both locales and men. She’d lie, of course, when he pressed her for details about her fantasies. She’d tell him that he was the one pressing home his advantage, causing her to arch her back and cry out for more. His ego was fragile enough without her planting another doubt in his mind, no matter that he begged to know the reality of her thoughts.
Now, though, she needed no fantasy to fuel her passion. She needed to prepare no lies about what had set her off. She could focus with laser-like precision on the point where cock met pussy met clit. Where hardness met softness met wetness. Where friction met ridges met heat. She could twist and tug and pull to find the perfect place, reach the perfect place, then follow it like an itch that, once scratched, only cropped up somewhere else, demanding to be scratched again. She bucked against the intruder, screwed it into her fuck hole, not even noticing when the box of women’s wonders toppled over, spilling a score of sex toys all over the bed. She would cum soon, and she had no attention for anything but that.
He hadn’t recovered from his shock quite as quickly as he would’ve liked. Maybe it was the sight of her thin, pale legs, wantonly spread like some slut in a movie. Maybe it was the way she was so seductively screwing herself with a life-size realistic dildo. Maybe it was the hot liquids glistening along her slit, making him wonder whether that was lube, or pussy juice, or both. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d propped herself up, her cunt clearly on display for him, her nipples hard atop her breasts, her face twisted by pleasure, her hair twisted by exertion, her legs twisted by the effort of shoving that big, thick, veined monster deeper inside of her than any man had probably ever probed, and him wanting nothing more than to rip it from her and replace it with his own pulsing cock, slamming it in to the hilt and crushing her against the bed, pressing himself to reach that undiscovered paradise deep inside her. Or maybe it was realizing that the whole thing was a plan to distract him from his work and get revenge for knowing the way back to the cabin. And though the urge to savagely fuck her remained, he somehow, with gargantuan effort, managed to refrain.
Two can play at this game, he thought, his erection painfully pressing against his shorts as he climbed to his feet. Randomly selecting one of the forgotten porn DVDs from the counter, he strode to the player, turned it on and loaded the disc. The flat screen came immediately to life and he used the remote to fast forward a few chapters, knowing that these were usually the beginning of a sex scene, and not some inanely acted scene setter. He was rewarded with the sight of two men, one black and one white, preparing to fuck a medium-breasted blond girl, her eyes sparkling blue but set too far apart, her body tight but well-curved, her ass full and promising.
She knelt between them, naked and available, the way a good slut should be, and alternately sucked their cocks, preparing them to enter her body from every angle and in every hole. He knew what would happen. These things always followed a script, even if the director tried to mix up the order. She’d suck them hard, though it would be more due to the Viagra than anything. Then one would fuck her pussy while the other fucked her face. They might trade places. One might lick her pussy. Not to pleasure her, of course, but to satisfy the obsession that had taken hold of him. She would get fucked hard from behind, so the man in her mouth would benefit from the impact transmitted along her lovely body. Soon, one would probe and then enter her ass, causing her to gasp until her anus opened enough to accommodate him. There’d be another switching of places. Then, in a flash, she’d be atop one of them, his cock deep in her ass, and she’d lean back and open her cunt hole for the other to enter, giving her the double penetration that every woman presumably dreamed about. Sure, she might flip over at some point, so the man on top could actively fuck her up the ass. Finally, though, having taken all the pleasure they could from her, having exhausted all the positions available, they’d pull out for the money shot. Both on her face and in her waiting, open mouth. Or one over her ass and one on her face. Or if she was big breasted, all over her tits. Or, if it was a kinky film, just inside her pussy, so the camera could linger lovingly over the leaking cream that marked that woman as someone’s property.
He didn’t really care which scenario they followed. He wasn’t going to watch. He didn’t even know whose DVD he’d selected. But if she was going to use a buzzing vibrator to tease and taunt him, now he had a weapon in the game. Full color, stereo enhanced, up close and personal electric sex.
On the screen, one of the men, sporting an improbably huge cock, was just beginning to penetrate the girl’s tight, neatly shaven pussy. The other man, also waving an embarrassingly well-endowed cock, was forcing her to lick his balls, since clearly she’d be unable to suck more than the first two inches of his girth into her mouth. He looked back to the bed. Ah-ha! She was just as intrigued as he had been, though she quickly transferred her attention back to the boner still jammed deep inside her pussy. He bent back to his task, then stopped, suddenly aware of the surreality of it all. It was a scene that even a porn writer might decline to use, so improbable was it. He, alone in a cabin with a woman he’d lusted after, building a kinky sex toy, while she, the demure, shy but teasing object of his desire who had somehow shed her naiveté and become a wanton sex maniac, naked and writhing on a bed just steps from him, completely uninhibited and unlike herself at any time he’d ever known her. And he, not the least bit puzzled by the suddenness of her performance, or the least bit amazed by the depravity she was exhibiting. Not even wondering what had gotten into her, asking if she’d taken some mind-bending drug, or investigating the means by which she’d shed all her inhibitions. Instead, he had responded by showing a pornographic film, of a kind she’d often expressed disdain for, and then returned to a seemingly innocuous task, while the two of them were bathed in layer upon layer of hormone-enhanced sexual depravity. And despite the surreality of it all, he didn’t feel compelled to question it any further. After all, she didn’t appear to be worried about it.
She opened her eyes in response to his lips pressing down upon hers, and his hand removing the vibrating dildo from between her legs. She’d won! She’d distracted him from his project and forced him to attend to hers. No matter that she’d never gotten off all the way, even though the small orgasms along the way had been pleasurable enough. He could help with that. He would do what she ordered now and put a capstone on her self-pleasuring project. She’d won.
Only, she saw then, that she hadn’t won. Hanging from one of the rafters was a hammock swing, just like she’d guessed. No, not precisely, because though it had the look of a swing, there was no real bottom or back to it. In fact, it looked as if someone had taken a hammock swing and cut away most of the strands, leaving just the supporting straps.
“Have you ever tried a sex swing?” he asked, leading her to it by the hand. She shook her head, secretly pleased that he’d named it without making her ask. She’d heard of sex swings before, of course, but had never really seen one in action, not even in any of the porn movies her husband had made her watch. It probably wasn’t a real common piece of equipment.
She looked it over, wondering what all the different straps were for, and guessing that she was about to find out. Why this made her feel squeamish after she’d just masturbated for him on the bed was something she didn’t understand. But, she was a woman, and sometimes she didn’t even understand herself.
The swing was attached at the top to a huge hook ingeniously hidden in the overhead beam, anchoring it at the top. Then came a few links of heavy-duty chain, and then a thick, long spring. Attached to that were a number of nylon straps, some thin, some thick, with most covered by adjustable foam pads. She didn’t know how to get in, and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Apparently her concern showed on her face. “How many chances in life are you going to get to try this kind of thing out?” he asked, his gaze serious and thoughtful. “This is the weekend for that. No guilt. No recriminations. No expectations for the future,” he reminded her. “Just you. Me. And whatever trouble we can get into.”
He was right. They’d done much with each other for the first time, but nothing that she’d never, ever done before. This would be new. And it would be something just for her. Something she didn’t need to share with her husband. Something he wouldn’t always be bugging her to repeat.
She allowed him to position her body within the straps, sliding back into the net of nylon until it was supporting her weight. It was a lot like sitting on a swing, if the wooden board at the bottom had been removed, and you were just sitting on the rope itself. Four main straps met at the apex, and other nylon strips with Velcro stitched to them dangled along their length. Once she was as comfortably seated as possible, he tied her wrists high over head, using the Velcro strips to keep them in place. OK, that felt different. Then he slipped each ankle through another loop. That’s when the genius of the sex swing became apparent. She was in a seated position, her legs spread wide, with no impediment to come between his cock and her pussy. And with her hands tied above her head, she was virtually helpless. If only it hadn’t taken so long to get in place. That had been a real mood breaker. Still, she’d wanted to know what it was. Had insisted on it, in fact. And now she did.
Ohhh. Now she really did, as he let his shorts drop to the floor, revealing his thick, stiff cock, a drop of pre cum on the tip glistening in the daylight. And her, unable to resist its passage into her valley, and not really wanting to. This, this was a new, erotic sensation, and she became instantly convinced that humans were designed to make love in precisely this position. His cock, as he entered her, pulled and tugged at the skin around her clit, stimulating it in a subtle and luxurious way. That pleasure was only punctuated when his body met hers, the muscles of his groin slapping against her lips and clit, a sharp, electric shock after a tantalizing preview. The swing allowed him to maneuver in from different directions, and she was thrilled to see that whenever she moaned louder, he would immediately duplicate that direction. He wasn’t dominating her as he could have. He was actually ensuring that she experienced the very greatest pleasure.
It wasn’t, however, a very comfortable position for her. He simply had to stand there. For her, though, it was a matter of balancing the pain of the straps with the pleasure of his penetration. And soon the straps were winning. When she complained about the pain, he quickly moved to reposition her. But instead of releasing her legs, he pulled them into higher loops. Now she was nearly jackknifed in two, much as if he had bent her legs back against her chest when they were going at it last night. They tried it that way for a while. It was clearly tighter for him, and she got to feel him deeper inside than ever. But still the straps interfered with her really being able to enjoy it all. It was fun, but not really passionate.
He seemed to feel the same way, and they spent quite some time experimenting with the many ways that she, and he, could be positioned and fucked in the sex swing. Some made her want to try the same position in bed. Others just made both of them giggle and laugh at the absurdity of it. Some were silly to do but felt intense, like the time she sat cross-legged in the swing and he lay on the floor below her. Pulling down on the straps, he lowered her cunt down onto his up thrust cock, then used the spring action to create a powerful fucking movement. the tightness and fullness had felt incredible, though they couldn’t keep from laughing whenever they thought about how bizarre it must look. Finally she’d had enough experimenting, and she sent him to open some more wine while she made herself comfortable on the bed, selecting one of the toys before pushing the rest aside.
That was bizarre, he thought, as he pulled out another bottle of wine and proceeded to uncork it. He hadn’t doubted his ability to put the sex swing together, even though he’d only seen one in a sex shop, and had never actually used one. There were, after all, only a few logical ways that it could go together. More amazing was her enthusiasm to actually trying it. Maybe he had a constricted perception of her actual sexual experience, but he’d have been willing to bet that something so unusual would’ve been way outside her comfort zone. Was it him? Was it the freedom and privacy of this place? Or was it the silent agreement that they both seemed to make that whatever happened here would stay here, like Vegas without the glitz. She was surprising him more and more.
Despite thinking that very thought, he still almost dropped the tray of wine and snacks when he turned to head back to the bed. She was still naked, but kneeling on her hands and knees on the bed, her ass pointed at him, and her face peering at him with something that could only be described as a “come hither” look. Who was this woman, and what had she done with the other one?
In spite of her immensely effective attempt to seduce him, he still had enough will power left to take a moment to study her. Though her eyes could hold his attention for months on end, and he had always been a fan of her breasts in a totally sexual way, her butt had always been intriguing to him. It was small and tight and boyish, there was no arguing with that. Yet just now, it was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen. Especially the way the small globes of her ass left her pussy lips in full view, engorged and swollen, with her slit completely visible and awaiting his touch. From her thin, tight thighs to her svelte legs and tiny feet, he felt like every inch of her was welcoming him to come and take her.
So he did. Moving up behind her, he felt something release in himself. Something more than his cock springing back to life at the sight of her soft pussy lips perfectly framed by the taut flesh of her cheeks. He felt a need, deep inside himself, burst through the boundaries of good behavior that had always separated him, and protected him, from the women in his life. He felt a need, staring down at her ass, her curved waist and hips beckoning to him in the daylight, a need to totally dominate this woman. To subjugate her, using his cock like an avenging sword, to penetrate her and denigrate her, to take her as his own and leave no doubt as to the consequences of choosing any other way, or the pleasures available should she embrace his domain.
Just that thought alone hardened him even more, and his cock head took on a purple shade, thick and menacing. He stood behind her and let the tension build in himself, a hurricane about to blast its thunderous wrath upon a weak human population. Oddly, his brain produced an image of himself as King Kong hanging upon the Empire State Building, roaring his dominance and smashing aside all the puny humans who might come to challenge him. He recognized the feeling, wanted to roar his own challenge, but instead focused his masculine violence on the point where the velvet helmet of his cock met the velvet entrance to her pussy. He could feel his rod literally pulsing with power.
Then, swiftly, surely, violently, he was inside her. Piercing her, penetrating her, a hammer crashing through her gates and desecrating her inner hall. He slammed his hips against her butt, pushing her forward, almost knocking her off her hands and knees. She looked back in shock, a look that rapidly turned to lust, before repositioning her body for his next assault upon her. He fucked her hard, loosing the lust and passion and frustration from all the years, not just from her but from all the women he’d had or wanted or known. He was overcome by lust, the violent kind that romance writers didn’t write about and good girls didn’t like. But he was no longer sure she was the good girl she’d purported to be.
She braced herself against the battering, like a seawall assaulted by wave after wave of frothing water. She’d been shocked at the sudden change in his demeanor, the wicked glint in his eyes as he’d approached her. All she’d wanted to do was seduce him some more, offer herself up to finish what they’d started in the sex swing. But once he’d entered her, had split her open with a harshness she’d never seen from him, she knew that this time it would be different. Even so, his first thrust had caught her completely off guard, and only by chance did she keep from collapsing onto the bed. But if he wanted to take her so violently, she could understand the need. For too long she’d been playing a part in bed, acting like her husband was in charge but never really believing it. Their lovemaking had been just that: making love. Even the spontaneous was planned, and therefore diminished for it.
With his hands wrapped around her waist, he pulled her back even as he fucked her forward. And fucking her was the only way to describe it. There were no tender touches. No sweet nothings. No pretty whispers. Just flat out, cock deep in the hole, take no prisoners fucking. She let him do it, of course. Let him think that he was taking her. But why, a small part of her wondered, was she even holding back that little bit? Why not drop all her own barriers and not just buy into it? Be the part and not act the part?
She wasn’t one of those women who got off on being tied up, or spanked, or pushed around. Though she was beginning to enjoy the spanking a bit more. She wasn’t into the submissive thing that so many men seemed to enjoy. But, and here her mind snapped into recognition even as his cock continued to assault her cunt, that didn’t mean she couldn’t give into the occasional take no prisoners fucking every so often. Especially since they didn’t come around much more than every so often. Right?
If she hadn’t already made a conscious decision, her body would’ve already betrayed her. Deep inside her cunt canal, his cock had ignited a spark of intense pleasure, which was spreading with alarming rapidity to her most sensitive spots. His cock wasn’t as big as her husband’s, but had a girth that had an appreciable effect within the folds of her pussy or inside the confines of her mouth. She felt the heat in her nipples, an intense blaze that seemed to flow directly from the steaming, molten core of her cunt. She felt it at the tips of her toes, burning and urging her to surge backwards against his juice-soaked invader. She felt it along the back of her neck, causing her hair to stand on end and making her buck her head like a horse in full gallop.
An apt metaphor as he rode her hard, slamming against her even as his rod split her on a spit, as if getting ready to cook her and devour her. She heard herself moaning, obscene words spilling from her lips, unformed and unchecked. She swung her body back to meet his cock in mid-thrust, the impact reverberating through both of them. Then, once he’d stilled, she fucked him with her cunt, sliding back and forth along the length of it, grinding herself against him, pulling him down to lay atop her, placing his hands around her pulsing tits, her nipples white hot and hard as diamonds.
All her introspection and rationalizations flooded away, swept aside by the rush of pleasures pulsing through her nerves. Her entire body tingled, every inch of her skin sensitive to the heat of his skin or the very air around them. Her muscles clenched as if she was in the midst of a marathon run, the fatigue palpable and enjoyable. Her breasts felt heavy in his hands, heavier even than when she’d been breastfeeding, and she felt a desperate need to present them to him, to give them to him to suck or tongue or bite or pinch or bind or… whatever he wanted. Her head pounded, her breathing harsh and desperate, her mind unable to process the swarm of input, and reacting by producing an oral litany, a chant almost, of what she was feeling and what more she wanted from him, mixed with moans and cries that sounded more animal than human. “Fuck me. Yes. Fuck me. More. Fuck me. Ohhh. Fuck me. Oh god. Oh fuck me. Yes. Fuck me. I’m yours. Fuck me,” she repeated over and over, her voice low and throaty and rasping.
But even with all that her attention was almost totally enraptured by the spot in her cunt canal where his cock rasped, over and over, along the area that some creative book publishers had dubbed the g-spot. At this point, she didn’t care what they called it. Only that pleasure was rippling away from it like waves in a pool, sweeping about and bouncing throughout her core, then setting aflame every nerve in her body. It was like an orgasm but one that lasted for minutes and centuries, continuously shocking her without the explosive finality of a regular one. She didn’t know if he knew what he was doing to her, didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose. But his violent purchase inside her had sparked an incendiary reaction. And she was helpless before it.
Her muscles, once tense with anticipation, were now soft and mushy, and she feared she might collapse in a heap on the bed. Still, she wanted him inside her like this, wanted him taking her with the power of a piece of machinery, a piston plumbing her depths. So she dropped to her forearms, changing the angle, losing some of the intensity but gaining better purchase. He spanked her ass as he fucked her, the slaps ringing through the room, the pain only adding to the intensity of the pleasure emanating from between her legs
Suddenly she felt his finger, or thumb, press against the bud of her anus. She knew she’d told him she didn’t like anal, had tried it but didn’t like it. It made her, in fact, feel like she had to poop. Not at all a pleasant experience. But maybe his brain was as addled as hers. Maybe he wasn’t thinking in terms of do’s and don’ts. Maybe he was only doing what his carnal desires had instructed him to do. Despite her misgivings, she squirmed her ass against his finger. He was only playing, wasn’t he? He didn’t mean to spear her ass with his stiff rod, to split her open like no one other than her husband had ever done?
He continued to play with her ass, slapping the cheeks, pinching her flesh, fingering her anus. And despite her trepidation, she lifted her butt higher into the air, as if offering him everything he wanted, with no limits and no boundaries. Suddenly, he bent over her, his cock still buried deep in her cunt, and growled in her ear that he wanted all of her, and wouldn’t stop until he got it. The movement pressed his cock back up against her g-spot, and another wave of intense pleasure swept through her, making her fingers tingle and her lungs convulse. Without thinking, she reached around until she found a bottle of lube on the bed and handed it up to him.
He didn’t stop pumping her, even as he opened and emptied a stream of oily lube into her crack and onto her ass hole. Then, suddenly, her well-fucked pussy was distressingly empty, and she could feel his cock head gently probing the outside of her ass. Despite the animal-like urgency with which he had fucked her cunt, he took his time entering her anus, sliding the head in and out slowly, as she tried to will herself to relax. He was all the way in before she really realized it, the lube and constant stimulation having loosened her ring of muscles already.
It felt the same way she remembered it, but not the same way. It felt like she was stuffed up, but not as uncomfortably. She felt like she had to go, but it was also something that could wait. And maybe it was his size, but she didn’t feel nearly as bloated. Beside, when she looked back and saw the look on his face, a little discomfort was worth it. And it did make her feel like a dirty girl. A very dirty, very kinky girl.
Despite how tight she felt, despite how intensely her anus was squeezing the length of his shaft, he knew that he would be taking it easy on her. That despite how willingly she had offered her ass up to him, he would feel guilty later if he hurt her in any way. He knew her distaste for what he was doing to her, and though she had acquiesced, he also knew that the pleasure wasn’t mutual. Call that some flaw in his manhood, but he wouldn’t take what wasn’t completely freely offered.
Besides, while on one plane he was simply exploring her body, on another he was asserting his control. That part of his manhood, at least, was fully functional. Having his cock in her ass was as dominating an act as he could imagine, especially since he knew that it wasn’t something she did all the time. By penetrating her there, he’d now had her in all the ways a man can have a woman. All the ways her husband might have had her, if he’d been as insistent as a man can be. And now he’d accomplished the very same conquest, without pleading, begging or bullying.
He eased himself from her, pausing to wipe the oily film from himself. The other thing was, in his experience, the woman got far more pleasure from anal sex than the man. He knew, if he kept at it, that all too soon she’d be too relaxed, and getting any kind of friction would take a lot more effort. Better to remember the explicit image of his cock buried in her ass, and then just move on.
She was wiggling her ass at him, as if wondering why he’d pulled out, and when he’d return. Truth was, as much fun as it had been to dominate her from behind, he was getting tired of it. And he wanted to see her face, and her eyes, and kiss her long and deep, not just because he could, but because he wanted to.
A simple nudge and she rolled onto her back, her legs spread open for him, her entire body exposed and ready for him, ready to respond to whatever was his pleasure. He scooted her into the middle of the bed and followed her, kneeling between her legs. Bending slowly, feeling her eyes upon him, he pressed his lips to her inner thighs, smiling as she giggled at the ticklish touch. Pushing harder against her soft flesh, he added his warm tongue to the recipe, which changed her giggles to whimpers of contentment. He made his way up her body, kissing and licking her delicate skin, eliciting a mixture of laughter and moans along the way. He took his time with her breasts, using the flat of his tongue to rasp across her nipples, then the soft press of his lips to soothe the affected areas.
When he finally reached her mouth, the whole of his body was stretched over her. His cock would occasionally brush against her legs, causing both of them to gasp at the feel of it. He kissed her, deeply, his tongue invading her mouth with much the same ardor as it had earlier explored her pussy. Swirling within, searching for the walls, fencing with her tongue, lips pressed so tightly together their teeth scraped. The harsh sound of her breathing was loud in his ears. His own panting was like that of a trapped animal, frantic and aggressive.
A small, simple move later and his cock was back inside her, ensconced in a soft, wet sleeve that was so comfortable, it could only be made for that one purpose. He let his weight down on her gently, his hips moving in an uneven rhythm, responding to signals only his brain understood. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, holding him in place and effectively communicating her approval of this latest position. He knew that his groin was rubbing against her pubic mound, probably giving her quite a bit of pleasure, but that was only a byproduct of his efforts. No, he simply liked to watch her face as he sped up or slowed, as he pressed into her from one side or the other, as he varied his strokes for the express reason of drawing a new reaction from her. Usually she kept her eyes closed, but her smiles and murmurs told him so much. And every so often he would hit upon an especially effective combination that would cause her eyes to fly open in delight, and cause her legs to press him closer, as if he could get any deeper inside her.
They continued that way for a long time, or a short one; there was no way to measure it. He hadn’t consciously been holding himself back from cumming, not thinking about baseball or any of those old tricks. But soon he was feeling the need again. And in feeling it, knew that he wouldn’t deny himself or draw the string of anticipation out any further; even the most compelling series of books needs a climax. She knew it too, releasing him from the cocoon of her legs and pushing her hips hard against him, meeting each of his thrusts with one of her own. Her cunt was fully open to him now and all subtlety and tenderness were thrown to the side as both their feral instincts took over. He slammed against her with ferocity, their bodies colliding with a sharp retort on every stroke, the slap as loud as when he’d spanked her the previous evening, the intent just as obvious.
She’d lifted her legs, clearing the way for his fevered attack. She too, had abandoned herself to the moment, biting her lip and clutching at the sheets as she took more and more punishment from the battering ram pounding at her pussy. He didn’t bother to hold back, didn’t bother to pull out as his balls triggered his cock to let loose with the first pulse of cum, his hot semen pulled from deep within and ejaculated deep inside her cunt. The sensation was not unlike the first moment of peeing after a long night of drinking, only far, far better. He could feel his cum coursing through the length of his cock, could feel his cock pumping it up and out. It was like a dam suddenly released, the hot liquid shooting through a constricted tube, then spurting out to soak and extinguish whatever fires roared before it. He came deep inside her, and continued to pump into her even after he’d stopped cumming, obeying his body’s urges above all else. When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at her, her eyes were still closed, but the blissful smile on her face told him all that he needed to know.
Sometime afterwards he had pulled the comforter over them. And pulled the pillows under her head. And pulled himself from between her legs. And wrapped her in an embrace so comforting that she felt like she might never leave it. So comforting that she tried to engrave the moment into her memory, so she might be able to return to it at any time and relive this languorous, satisfied moment.
That it should come here, now, was…what? A shame? Serendipity? An accident? A blessing? She didn’t know what. And that uncertainty almost ruined the moment. One part of her brain told the other to stop analyzing, but the rest of her knew that was about as likely as stopping the sun from rising. It was an obsession with her, and even in those most satisfying of moments she had to answer the “why” and “what now” of what had just transpired.
And what had just transpired? Well, she’d gotten the shit fucked out of her, literally. That thought made her smile, and in some instinctive response he pulled her bare body closer against his chest. And she’d fucked the hell out of him, too. No way! No way she’d ever do all that stuff with her husband, or any of her boyfriends for that matter. Friggin herself in broad daylight? Fucking on a sex swing? Practically begging to be fucked up the ass? Who are you and what have you done with my previous owner, her mind asked her body. It was as if she was not herself, not even a person she had ever wished to be, but some amalgam of characters from the light and dark sides of life. Ladylike, but with the sexual appetites of a man. Demure, but with the promiscuity of a whore. Naïve, but with the imagination of a pornographer.
Wicked. That’s how she felt. And the feeling was incredible. She knew that she’d spent most of her life wrapped in a blanket of ‘correct behavior,’ playing the part that others had written for her. It started with her father, as it always did for most women. But had extended into her relationships with all men, boyfriends and husbands alike. She let them write the script, and she would revise it only a little along the way. And then the blame for any lack of fireworks would be on their heads. But now she was coming to believe that she’d been stuck in a prison of her own making.
She snuggled closer to him, pressing her butt against his groin. They were spooning, and his hand had dropped to the bed cushion. She gently repositioned it atop her breast and felt him respond with a kiss on her shoulder. He was awake. Or drowsing? What was he thinking?
What, for that matter, was she thinking? Admittedly, if she’d been thinking straight, she wouldn’t even be here. He’d be secure in bed at his home, maybe just having made love to his wife. Was he that passionate with her? That adventurous? But there was no way for her to answer those questions. And what of herself? Would she have been fucked by her husband on this weekend? Surely. But would she have responded so freely, so wickedly? That wasn’t as clear. She did what he asked, watched what he wanted, wore what he gave her, responded as he expected. But rarely gave all of herself or opened her desires to him. When she had, it was always after a night of drinking, as if the alcohol gave a few moments freedom to that part of herself. And, as if the alcohol would excuse herself from needing to repeat her performance, in case he did remember her enthusiasm. “But you did it last time,” he’d plead. “I was drunk,” would be her defense.
So what was different here? The circumstances, surely. He was married, she was married. And most importantly, not to each other. There would be no repeat performances. This was, for lack of a better term, a one-weekend stand. She didn’t see him risking his marriage and life to do this again. My God, it had taken them years to get to this point! And, honestly, she wasn’t going to do that either. She’d made her bed, so to speak, and she was going to sleep in it, even if she did have to share it. So, then, what? Maybe it was that very lack of a future that made the weekend so different. She could be whatever she wanted to be, without any need to repeat it. He said he wouldn’t judge her. And perhaps that promise extended to everything they did with each other, too.