© Copyright 2007 - Wiccedwoman - Used by permission
Storycodes: MMF; bond; oral; group; voy; cons/reluct; X
Chapter 3 – Turning up the Heat
I lay there, still gently swinging in deep space. Every muscle in my body was relaxed, every thought banished. It felt almost transcendent. It felt like, just for a moment, I’d touched the deep, dark pulsing life force itself.
Paul was still gently holding my head and looking down into my face.
Steve was now spread out on one of the other mattresses, his beautiful body languid and satisfied.
Paul tenderly released me from the sling. He steadied me for a moment as my feet touched the carpet. My legs were a little wobbly.
Lynn was dozing, I noticed.
“Thanks Paul,” I said without irony, “I need a coffee.” Putting on my clothes, I left the room and headed for the expansive veranda outside - an aromatic brew in hand. I was still in something of a daze.
The sun was just setting. It cast a brilliant orange glow over the sprawling horizon. The sky was streaked with purples, pinks and reds. Some fruit bats flew over-head and a gentle chorus of frogs serenaded the night. The air was heavy with frangipani. My head was empty, totally empty. The cacophony of thought had ceased. I just sat by myself - indolently drinking in the sights, sounds and smells.
After I’d been locked in this hushed reverie for some time, I noticed the hum of voices and some soft, female laughter. Paul, Steve and Lynn were just inside, clattering coffee mugs and spoons. The spell was broken.
Paul came outside and joined me.
Steve was settled inside with Lynn.
My husband looked at me warily, “Are you OK Kristin?” He asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine” I said. I was.
Paul’s hand rested on my leg and he gently stroked my inner thigh. “You’re such a turn on Kristin, you know that don’t you? This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so sexy.”
Actually, it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been so horny – but that’s men all over, projecting their foibles on to their woman. At that point in time, I just didn’t care - and I liked being told I was desirable. I noticed, for the first time, I was hungry.
Paul suggested we should eat out – Steve would pay.
“Yeah,” I thought, “Steve will pay - expensively”. I chose the costliest eatery in the locality. If he wanted me to be his whore, he’d discover I didn’t come cheap.
All four of us sat making polite conversation in a very stylish, very classy restaurant. I’d had my way. If Steve wanted to call the tune, this particular piper wasn’t free. He might treat me like a prostitute; he would discover I was a lady, with the potential to shred his certainties.
The frost between Lynn and me began to thaw; after all, she did have the same good taste as me – Paul. We connected. I think Paul and Steve felt slightly uncomfortable about that – women in union, how threatening. Who knows what we might talk about?
Throughout the meal, Paul kept touching me – his hand on my shoulder or his fingers brushing my neck. He was marking his terrain, circling his possession.
Steve’s hand also rested lightly on Lynn from time to time – though his eyes searched out mine sporadically, lingering just a second too long. Sparks still teased my belly at each glance.
The food was brilliant – as it should have been for the price. I chose mineral water rather than wine. The glow of alcohol should, I thought, be a rare appreciated indulgence and I wanted to be in control.
When we arrived back at the house, I felt tired, exhausted. I was sleeping with Paul – my husband left no doubt about that.
His hand, resting on my butt and his seductive attentiveness continued to proclaim ownership.
I undressed in our room and climbed into bed, expecting to welcome unconsciousness. No such luck.
Paul roughly seized me from behind and - without foreplay - thrust his extremely hard penis inside me. He pulled my buttocks up towards him at a sharp angle, enabling him to drive himself within very deeply. He was excited – exceptionally excited.
“You’re a whore Kristin, a filthy dirty whore.” He repeated the words over and over, getting more turned on every time he said it. He was fucking me very hard and taking obvious delight in his cruel momentum. It didn’t take long for him to come – his groin trembled ecstatically as he let out an echoing groan. He fell back, drenched in sweat. There – it was over, I was marked. I was his territory again.
I got up early – light was just filtering over the horizon. Everyone else was still sleeping. There’s something magical about being alone at that time of the morning, sipping on a good coffee. Everything seems clean and new - alive and expectant. I felt different, like there had been a rubber band inside me I didn’t even know was there. Now, it had snapped apart. It left stillness in its wake - an empty space rich with possibilities. I’d been sitting on the veranda by myself for a while, just musing along those lines, when I heard someone else stir. It was Lynn.
We looked at each other knowingly.
“How are you honey?” She asked casually.
“Fine” I replied. I wasn’t lying.
“How about breakfast out?” She enquired. “Those two studs are still recovering. Come on, we’ll make a morning of it.”
We did ‘Make a morning of it’ – in style. After some fare at the local deli, we spent hours at a beauty spa well known to Lynn. Massage, facial, hair, nails, feet, make-up – they were all on the itinerary. That was followed by some retail therapy. I bought the most beautiful black velvet corset with a matching G-string. It pushed my breasts up and out – and looked very dramatic against my creamy pale skin. I also purchased a tight denim skirt that emphasised my curves and a clingy, low-cut black lace top. With my new corset underneath, the effect was striking.
Everything was on Lynn. She didn’t say outright straight away, but I got the impression Steve had given her a credit card. She gave it a very good work out.
Eventually, we decided to grab a coffee and were sitting together at a table talking, when somehow, the penny dropped – Lynn was on the game.
Steve had paid - was paying - for her services.
Lynn admitted everything – and it was, most definitely, Steve’s card. A wide smile crossed her face, “Well Kristin, I didn’t see why you should miss out. I hope you’ve enjoyed the outing. Steve’s bill is going to be a lot more than he expected.”
I giggled with pleasure at the irony.
Lynn spilled the beans – entirely.
Steve had been hot for me for some time and while the thought of seeing me screw another man excited Paul, he would only agree to set up the scene if Steve provided him with a woman.
Paul was already a regular client of Lynn’s; he saw her once a week for a “massage.”
My jaw dropped.
Lynn said he was a total sweetie – always respectful and completely deferential.
Yeah, that sounded just like Paul I thought – he doesn’t hate women - he loves them, too much.
Lynn told me more about the services she provided.
I was fascinated.
She enjoys her power to excite and chooses her customers carefully, working for herself. Most of all, she loves massaging a man’s body, slowly - from scalp to toe - dressed only in the flimsiest of G-strings. During this, they try to touch her breasts and between her legs while she works – but she won’t let them. Eventually, she turns her attention to their straining cocks, stroking and rubbing the - by now - pulsing flesh. She said that most of them spurt virtually straight away and she loves watching their faces when they come.
“Come on honey,” said Lynn after we’d finished our coffee, “I know this great little wine bar. Let’s go and chill out. The guys will just have to wait.”
“OK Lynn,” I said, “But after what you told me I feel like a little more shopping first.”
“Fine,” she said knowingly, with a grin across her face.
I made a few more purchases – or rather, Steve did - a lot more pieces of sexy lingerie, new make up and some very expensive perfume. I changed into my new outfit before we hit our planned venue.
When we arrived at the bar, the conversation between Lynn and me became more intimate. I don’t think either of us missed out on a detail. Then, I became aware of some male eyes that were constantly straying to mine
Lynn gently elbowed me and whispered in my ear, “That guy over there – he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. I think you’ve scored.”
I liked the look of him. Some men have that indefinable presence that hits you in the base of the spine. He had it – in buckets. He was tall, dark, well built and well dressed. He dripped confidence. He looked comfortable in his own skin. I caught my breath when wandered over to our table with his friend.
“Hi girls – what are you two beautiful ladies doing here by yourselves?”
I looked up at him and smiled sweetly as he spoke. “That’s not a very original line – but at least you’ve got good taste” I remarked – then, shooting a look in Lynn’s direction - “We are two beautiful ladies.”
He smiled widely and they sat down with us, “Drinks?” He asked.
I let his arrogant phrase “By yourselves” slide off me. The hedonistic slut was having too good a time to bother with the rebel for the time being.
His friend was, very obviously, transfixed by Lynn.
The exchange continued to crackle. My guy was very attentive – totally focussed on me. He was also very funny and warm. Time flew and I noticed it was getting late. I nudged Lynn, “I’ve got to go to the loo,” the statement was accompanied by an obvious look.
“I’ll come with you,” she said.
Once inside the ladies room we dissolved into a fit of giggles. Two great looking guys were chatting us up, curtesy of Steve’s credit card. Both Steve and Paul would also be really pissed off by now. It was getting very late.
“What am I going to do about the cute guy out there?” I asked Lynn, “I’m a married woman,” the comment was made with more than a heavy hint of irony.
She grinned, “I’ll give him my card. Don’t worry – it doesn’t say what I do. He’ll be in touch – he’s panting for you Kristin.”
We gave each other a conspiratorial look as we went back to our two conquests.
“Well boys,” said Lynn, “We’ve got to go. It’s been a great evening.”
A look of intense disappointment crossed their faces – “Can we see you again?” My guy said immediately as he gently and sexily held on to my hand.
Lynn gave him her card, “Get in touch” she said, as we left them in our wake.
I was right. Paul and Steve were totally pissed off when we got back. It was touching on midnight.
“Where have you been?” Paul spat at me.
“Oh sweetheart,” I said with feigned sympathy, “What’s the problem – did you and Steve have to play with your own dicks while we were gone?”
Steve was just looking on, darkly saying nothing, as I continued.
“Lynn and I had a great time. We got to know each other really well. She told me a lot about herself.”
Paul blanched at my words.
“We did a bit of shopping,” I carried on, “Lynn’s really generous, she must have maxed out her credit card for me.”
It was Steve’s turn to blanche.
“Anyway,” I said, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Me too” said Lynn.
With that, both of us took off to our respective rooms, arms laden with our booty. Later in bed, Paul snuggled up to my back – his dick was rock hard. “Get lost Paul,” I said, “Go have a cold shower.” I quickly fell asleep.
The next morning I woke late. I roused myself slowly and indolently. Paul was already up I noticed. I spent time showering and generally beautifying myself. I put on a very sexy, very brief and very expensive black lacy G-string that I’d bought the previous day. I wrapped myself in a soft snakeskin print sarong.
I wandered out to get some coffee, feeling good. As I meandered towards the veranda, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight before me.
Paul was sitting in a large chair.
Lynn was kneeling, her head in his lap. She was busily sucking on his very erect penis.
Steve was playing with her pussy from behind.
All of them were naked.
Lynn’s hips were slowly and rhythmically swaying.
The breath caught in my throat. I understood what she was feeling. I knew how good Steve was at that little game.
Paul’s head was thrown back, mouth open, while he gently stroked Lynn’s bobbing head. He was squirming and moaning with pleasure. From time to time, he bent forward and watched in spellbound enjoyment as his cock slid in and out of her mouth.
I noticed Steve was watching the expression on Paul’s face with snake-like fascination.
In return Paul was murmuring, “Yeah man, yeah. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” His voice was low, but clearly audible.
Then it struck me – Steve was pleasuring Paul by pleasuring Lynn.
As Steve was bringing her off - bringing her to orgasm - she was sucking on Paul with increasing intensity.
All of a sudden, it was obvious Paul was about to come. His groin tensed and he gripped Lynn’s hair tightly. His head was flung right back. At the point of ejaculation, he let out a series of very loud, very earthy, very guttural moans. “Bestial” would be the most accurate description. He was obviously shooting his load - hard.
It crossed my mind Lynn’s lips would now be dribbling his sticky cum.
Whilst all this was happening, Steve’s fondling movement didn’t waver for a second. It was easy to see from the tempo of Lynn’s hips she was extremely aroused.
Just after Paul orgasmed, I saw him look briefly in Steve’s direction.
The pair exchanged a knowing glance.
That was Steve’s cue. I could see his penis was straining. That familiar purple-headed erection was more than ready. He looked down at himself as he guided his eager cock to the entrance of the lusciously splayed pink orchid in front of him. Then, with one sharp stab, his whole length disappeared inside it.
At that juncture, Paul gripped Lynn’s arms tightly.
Steve’s fingers dug deeply into her hips. He was forcing her ass to rock to his rhythm. His head was tilted back slightly, mouth gaping, as his speed increased. Then came that heavy, deeply thrusting momentum my belly and pussy recognised well. He was almost savage.
Lynn was whimpering – in pleasure, I think.
Paul was watching the scene before him with lewd and obvious enjoyment. He continued to entangle Lynn’s arms in a firm grasp.
What happened next was unmistakable. Steve let loose with some particularly brutal lunges accompanied by loud groans. That was it. He orgasmed violently – ecstatically spending his seed inside Lynn’s pussy.
They collapsed, all three together. They were locked like that for a few moments, before Paul looked up and saw me.
“Oh, hi babe,” he said coyly, half a grin on his face, “You were very bad girls yesterday – very bad. That was Steve’s credit card Lynn used.”
Obviously, it hadn’t crossed Paul’s mind I knew that.
He continued, “Steve likes to get value for money.” His smile widened.
Neither, I’m sure, did Paul realise I knew about Lynn’s profession - he was just being a wise guy. I raised my eyebrows, “I think Steve has had a great deal of value already – especially from me,” I retorted.
Paul fixed me with an intent, sly, half-smiling stare, “We’ll see Kristin, we’ll see,” he said thoughtfully.
By then it was late morning. After Paul, Lynn and Steve were showered and dressed, the subject of food came up.
“How about you girls cooking up some brunch?” Paul enquired expectantly.
I gave him a withering look, “I do sex – not food. You’ll have to hire a chef,” I responded pithily.
Paul and Steve prepared the meal.
Afterwards, Lynn and I went for a swim then sprawled around the pool for a little. I was mellow and relaxed, but after a while, she complained of a headache.
Swallowing a couple of aspirin for it, she retreated to her room.
I was left alone with the two musketeers.
I dozed off on the sun lounger. The debauched scene I’d just witnessed had mesmerized me. I no longer felt threatened – rather, I’d been fascinated and aroused. Suddenly, I was jolted awake.
Paul had a firm grasp on my wrists and Steve was tightly gripping my ankles.
“You’ve been a real bitch lately,” said Paul, half mocking, “It’s about time you learnt whose boss.”
I couldn’t even struggle; they had me totally pinned down. I was a bit too shocked to give a smart answer straight away and despite the rude awakening, being manhandled by two big, strong horny men was a bit of a turn on.
Paul continued, “Steve and I have some special plans for you – very special. You need an education.”
Paul pulled some rope out of a bag and tied my hands together, securely.
Steve was still holding my ankles.
Again, I couldn’t have moved even if I’d wanted to. Those butterflies began to dance in my belly again. My bound hands were forced above my head and tied to the top end of the sun bed. It was a solid permanent fixture, with its legs set into the paving.
Steve impatiently untied my snakeskin print sarong. He gazed appreciatively at my vulnerably exposed breasts and my very expensive lacy black G-string, briefly taking time to suckle hard on each nipple. “New panties Kristin?” He asked ironically, looking me in the eye as he gloatingly slipped them off me. He pulled out some more rope, before opening my thighs widely.
My legs hung either side of the lounger and my feet touched the ground.
Steve bound my ankles and very loosely joined them by a length of cord that ran beneath the bed. He wrapped more rope around each separated knee and swiftly attached them to two pool light-posts. Each lamp stood firmly in position on either side.
This had the effect of spread-eagling me; my thighs obscenely and helplessly open, revealing my moist pink flesh to the world.
Paul and Steve just stood there, looking at me in triumph.
“Feel like making any smart comments now?” Asked Steve sarcastically, whilst leisurely surveying his handiwork. “This woman of yours needs a lesson or two,” he said, glancing in Paul’s direction. Steve’s eyes were dancing mischievously and he rubbed his hands slowly in anticipation.
As usual, Paul just grinned in delight.
I could see the outline of his hard dick in his shorts. His eagerness was very obvious.
At that point, I nearly died of shock. Another guy came on the scene. I don’t know who he was. I’d never seen him before.
The stranger looked me up and down with keen interest and briefly touched his crotch.
Paul saw my horrified reaction. “Don’t worry babe,” he said quickly, “He’s not going to touch you – he’s a professional.”
I think Steve would have liked to see me stew a bit more.
I quickly learnt what kind of “Professional” he was – a photographer.
As the guys stood aside he took detailed shots – me in the whole frame, close ups of my splayed pussy and more close ups of my carefully bound hands, ankles and knees.
I wondered if the pictures would be joining Steve’s gallery and I felt totally exposed and vulnerable – correction, I was totally exposed and vulnerable.
When the photographer was finished with those shots, Steve and Paul were able to get into the rest of their erotic encounter. It had been carefully planned to exact their revenge. First, Steve went down on me, his tongue swirling deliciously around the tip of clitoris. His fingers gently opened and explored my, by now, very slippery pussy. His other hand rested on my belly and tenderly stroked it.
Paul pulled off his shorts. He is, I should mention, well hung and his cock stood proudly to attention. I knew where that would be going – I was right.
“Well bitch – you said you don’t do food, only sex, so do your job!” Paul panted out the words as he urged his erection past my lips and deeply into my mouth. It was very hot and throbbing with excitement.
I played my tongue around the tip, and began to suckle in earnest. There was really no other option.
The ropes were beginning to bite slightly. I could see Paul watching my face intently, as I submissively gave him the head he lusted for.
Steve continued to suck gently on my swollen bud and push his fingers in and out of my engorged slit.
I was riding on waves of pleasure and with each wave, my mouth would curl tighter around Paul’s penis for a moment and I’d suck more vigorously.
“You’re doing well mate,” Paul huskily murmured in Steve’s direction as his cock luxuriated in each – more intense – pulse of my mouth.
The heat was building up between my thighs; it became molten. That river of fire connected to my breasts, which were wobbling slightly - nipples standing to attention. They felt burstingly full and sensitive. Suddenly, I felt a hand grasp one and kneed it forcefully.
It was the photographer. He was instructing Paul, “Here, squeeze her tits like this and rub her nipples – get them nice and red.” The statement was accompanied by a fleeting leer and I saw the professional briefly touch his crotch again.
Paul carried out his orders with passion as more shots were fired off.
It became obvious Steve wasn’t going to stop stimulating my captive pussy until I came. His tongue darted around the tip of my distended pink swelling, while his fingers stroked a rhythm inside me.
I was soon to find out why; my belly – no, my whole body – convulsed with surges of a dark liquid pleasure when that inevitable orgasm arrived. Unable to make a sound, my mouth squeezed like a vice around my husband’s cock.
“Now! Now!” Shouted Paul with urgency. His cries were directed at the photographer.
In a second, a myriad of shots were fired off – graphic images of my face as I orgasmed, Paul’s cock firmly inside my mouth.
The boys were still not finished with me. They were really getting off on the whole scene.
Steve withdrew for a moment.
Paul leered down at me, “Carry on sucking bitch!” He ordered, as he continued watching his semi-swallowed erection with fascination. He was so turned on, it wasn’t long before he ejaculated. His thick, gooey cum dribbled slowly from the side of my mouth and dripped over my chin.
Every nuance was documented on film.
Eventually, Paul just stood next to me in a relaxed position, looking down at my face.
I was spattered with his semen.
His expression was languid, satisfied. He surveyed his accomplishment with pride. As he slowly looked in Steve’s direction, he was smiling - anticipating. “Your turn mate,” he said.
Steve’s penis was bulging excitedly. He was firmly and slowly squeezing the engorged head in expectation. He looked me straight in the eye, “Expensive panties were they Kristin? I hope you and Lynn had a good time yesterday – now it’s time to pay.” His eyes narrowed in satisfaction and a faint smile played across his lips. With a sudden thrust, he entered me.
My spread-eagled position allowed a very deep – and very explicit – penetration.
Click, click, click – the cameraman busily recorded the sight before him. He took close-ups of Steve’s penis completely pushed inside me – and more close-ups of the bloated purple head poised graphically just between the outer petals of that glistening, crimson-coloured rose.
Steve remained in icy control while those shots were taken. He took great delight in the unfolding scene. “Bitches need to be educated Kristin. Are you enjoying your lesson?” It was a rhetorical question. Steve whispered it with pleasure and triumph. He began very slowly and very pleasurably sliding in - then sliding out - the whole sticky length of his fat cock. He was savouring my bound vulnerability; savouring the exquisite sensations that accompanied each choreographed movement. He continued like this for some time. The deep angle of penetration permitted him to fill me to over-flowing.
I experienced a delicious thread of pain as he stretched me wide open.
After a time, Steve’s lust and building tension began to get the better of him. He started forcing himself into me with increased speed and urgency. He slid his hands underneath my butt and his fingers bit deeply into my soft flesh. He was beginning to lose it. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He closed his eyes and his mouth hung open. His groin began to pound against me like a jackhammer and he dug his fingers even more deeply into my ass. His penis – which I thought couldn’t get any bigger – seemed to swell by another couple of centimetres.
I strained frantically against my bindings.
Steve orgasmed suddenly in overwhelming shudders, accompanied by an extremely loud series of groans.
My body slumped back in exhaustion.
He just laid there for a moment, his spent cock still half erect inside me. Eventually, he pulled himself free and gazing at my bound body in sated victory, he turned to my husband, “What do you think Paul?” He said in mock seriousness, “Should we just leave her there?”
“Untie me you bastards!” I shouted.
Paul gently placed a finger on my lips, “What are you cooking for dinner to-night sweetheart? Is it worth our while to untie you?” His eyes were dancing with delight.
“Get fucked!” I snapped.
“No sweetheart – it’s you that’s just been fucked. Very beautifully fucked.” His amusement was obvious.
I glowered. Then I glanced up at the photographer who had been watching the proceedings intently. I noticed he was touching his crotch much more obviously.
“I’m just going to pack up now,” he said – and then, “Where’s the loo?”
I had the impression he was going to relieve his excitement.
Despite the teasing, the ropes were untied and I nursed my sore wrists, knees and ankles. My vagina was also throbbing and very tender. Whilst I’d enjoyed their little game, I also felt the sting of humiliation. I looked evilly in the direction of Steve and Paul, “Clever pair aren’t you?” I shot the words with venom, “You better be careful you don’t start getting too clever.” I made the last comment with dark emphasis.
Paul likes to call me a “witch” from time to time. Perhaps his words are closer to the bone than he realises.
I flounced in the direction of my room, needing to shower, relax and gather myself. As I went, I saw the reflection of the two musketeers in the glass patio doors.
They were grinning and giving each other the thumbs-up sign.
“Idiots,” I thought, “They have no idea what they’re playing with.” It turned out, as events unfolded, they would rapidly have to learn. For the moment the hedonistic slut was having her way and I was content to lose myself to total self-indulgence. Where that self-indulgence would lead is another story.
story continues in Erotic Disclosure Chapter 4: Staged Desire