Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 02

One hand held me down against the table while the other felt between my legs. In horror, I realized that I was dripping. I moaned at his touch, unable to control myself as jolts of pleasure sparked like static shocks. Hiss hand reached around and rubbed my juice all over my face. I began to cry at the knowledge of how much I seemed to want what was about to happen, ashamed to the core of my being.

I heard a zipper opening. Something hard pressed against my butt cheeks, rubbing against them. There was a trickle of moisture on the end. Then, with no warning, he plunged into my pussy, causing me to gasp. I don't know if he was immense or if I was just so sensitive, but I felt totally full. He began to thrust into me over and over again. Betraying me, my body began to thrust back against him. The hand that wasn't holding me down reach under me and rubbed against my clit. I screamed into the cloth as lightning shot through me over and over again.

I came, my body writhing under him in our back yard as he rammed into me repeatedly. I could hear him grunting and groaning as my pussy quivered about his cock. He didn't stop anything when I orgasmed. My incredibly sensitive clit was being tortured by his hand and I could barely come down from one climax before the next hit me even harder than the one before. I was bucking on the table, as the sheer pain of his touch on my clit and the pleasure of him in my pussy clashed, seeming to hold me in an orgasmic limbo, cumming without end.

Then he thrust in one last time, holding himself in me, pulling me towards him by my pussy, and spilled his seed into me. I could feel it enter me, hot molten sex in pulse after pulse. With his motion stopping, I was released from my climax, finally able to stop shaking and screaming. As I lie there, he pulled out and zipped up. He brought his hand from my pussy, covered with his cum and mine, wiping it all over my face. I heard him walk away, unable to move, even to turn to see where he had gone. When I could at last think, I saw that the back door had been closed again, probably still locked. I lay down in the grass, cum leaking from my pussy and globs of him and me smeared across my face.

Charlene once again found herself desperate for George to be here, to make love to her and quench the fire she had ignited in herself. She saved what she had written so far and went into the bedroom. Undressing, she lay on the bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had never felt this aroused before without touch. Her pussy was sopping and as soon as it was free from her panties, she dripped down her legs. Her aroma was stronger than normal as well. It was almost painful to remove her bra, her nipples were so sensitive.

Her hand reached down to her pussy, barely touching it. It was like fire shot through her. Her back arched and she screamed at the overload of sensation and pleasure. Pressing through the feelings, she stuck two fingers into herself, whimpering at the feelings she was causing. She could not think clearly, didn't want to even think of stopping. Her other hand rubbed her nipples, reinforcing the rush cascading through her. She came, her body writhing on the bed. Unbelievably, a second climax started before the first could start to fade.

"Oh, Fuck! God Damn! Fuck me!"

The unaccustomed profanity was pulled out of her by the intensity of the orgasm. When her thumb connected with her clit, a third orgasm hit her in less than a minute. Her body convulsed so hard that the hand at her breasts pinched a nipple in a spasm and that sent a fourth climax starting. The incredible succession of orgasmic pleasure that she just had experienced was too great and she actually passed out.

When she came to, she swore again. "Fuck! What the hell was that?"

She looked over and saw that ten minutes had passed. The arousal that had left her unable to type anymore had passed, but not entirely. She noticed a large area of dampness under her butt at the same time she noticed the smell of sex in the room. She could feel drying juice on her fingers. Her nipples had relaxed somewhat and the flushed feeling she had not really noticed earlier had faded. Getting up, she saw that she had left a wet spot on the bed of monumental proportions. Now that she was moving, she could feel the drying sweat on her as well.

"I can't believe how powerful that was. I think I had several orgasms at once. Is that even possible? If writing these fantasies down is this erotic, what will acting on them be like?"

Shaking her head, she took a shower to get the soon to be stink off of her. Then she put clean clothes on and changed the bedding (she had soaked through the cover and blanket to the top sheet). She thought there might be the slight aroma of urine as well, something she had not had happen during sex since she was sixteen and had her first orgasm. Once the wash was going, she returned to her computer.

Waking it up, she looked at what she had written so far, reluctant to read it in detail. She did not want to get that turned on again until George had returned. She wrote a couple more of her list, making about half of those she had outlined having been fully described. These turned her on as well, but not as strongly as the first two, especially the second one. That done, she saved her work and went about her normal household stuff. She had dinner ready shortly after George returned home.

George had also written two more fantasies out before returning home. By the time he left his office, he had a hard on that would not quit and was looking forward to an incredible night of sex with Charlene. He was convinced that this fantasy sharing would make for an incredibly intense sex life, if it didn't drive Charlene away from him. He was concerned that each and every fantasy he wrote, hell, every one he could think of, involved treating Charlene like a sex toy instead of a person, let alone the person he loved more than anything in the world.

"Hi honey. Dinner smells good. How long?"

"About ten minutes. How was your writing?"

"I got four down on disk. I'm also incredibly horny. How about some post dinner nooky?"

"I'd love to, being just as in need, but we're hosting the bible study tonight, remember?"

"Oh, crap. No, I had forgotten. We're in Leviticus aren't we?"

"Yes. Chapters eighteen through twenty."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah. Bill is going to start a rant against sexual sin again. He's going to demand that we start the process of expelling Janet and Betsy from the congregation again. I hope Jim has an answer for him, one that will shut him up for good."

"Can you hold dinner for a few minutes? I want to check on something."

"Sure."

They finished dinner about half an hour before the first of the bible study group showed up. The group of ten had been studying the bible together for two years now and had worked their way through seven books, five old testament and two new testament. Their discussions had gotten pretty heated at times, though no one reached the point of yelling, yet. Bill's attitude towards homosexuals was getting on George and Charlene's nerves, among others. Chapters 18 and 20 were hot button issues for him. As could have been predicted, Bill went for his soapbox.

"This is what I've been trying to get through to Pastor Ben for years now, ever since those two lesbians joined the congregation..." Bill started.

Charlene interrupted him, "Bill, those 'two lesbians' are people and have names. I'd appreciate it if you used them."

The glare that Bill gave Charlene raised George's hackles, but he held his peace for more important issues.

Bill continued, "Right, okay. Janet and Betsy are living in open and blatant sin, sin of the worst sort. It was a sin so bad that it was given the death penalty under levitical law. Paul makes it clear in First Corinthians that such people are to be expelled from the congregation. So why has Ben not taken action?"

Marty attempted to respond. "Bill, that is old testament law. We're not under the law anymore. I certainly don't want to trade Christ's grace for the law. Isn't it more important to show them Christ's love and forgiveness than to condemn them out of hand?"

"Not if they're going to corrupt the church. They've been coming here for over three years and have not changed one bit. They're still the perverts they have always been and they will influence our children if we don't take action to stop it. God knows they aren't saved. Their sins can't possibly be forgiven, they haven't repented."

George stood. "That is enough!" Bill had done exactly what George had hoped he would, judged someone else's salvation. When Bill attempted to continue, George stopped him. "No, Bill, you've crossed a line. And not for the first time. You are not the one to be judge. Romans 2:1 'You therefore have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself.' We do NOT have the right or authority to declare that someone is not saved or incapable of being saved. That is God's place. Jesus made it clear in the sermon on the mount that all sin is equal when he equated unexpressed hatred as equal to murder. Are Janet and Betsy living in sin? Yes. So am I. I speed on the way home from work almost every day."

"Speeding isn't a sin," Bill quipped.

"Oh yes it is. Romans 13:1 'Everyone must submit to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established.' It's clear that the laws of the government are as much our responsibility in God's eyes as those in the bible. So, yes, I sin regularly as much, no, probably more than they do, since I speed daily. Bill, everyone, our JOB as Christians is not to condemn, it is to share the saving grace of Jesus Christ. If no church will allow homosexuals into their congregations, who will offer them salvation?"

Bill muttered under his breath, "They don't deserve it."

"No they don't, no one does. That's why it's called grace. Because no one, not them, you or I deserve to have our sins forgiven, but they are. Bill, you need to deal with your hatred, because I can't think of anything else that explains your venom towards Janet and Betsy. It's going to eat you up inside. Myself, I don't want to stand before Him on judgment day and have to explain why this person was lost when my sharing the gospel in love would have made the difference."

Bill had no response to that and the rest of the study continued under more peaceful circumstances. The study broke up around 10. They could tell that the issue was not settled with Bill and a couple of the others. This subject would come up again in the future. George and Charlene just hoped that the two sweet ladies were not driven away.

They went to bed shortly afterwards. The church service was good in the morning. After taking care of some yard work that needed to be done, they were able to sit down to share their fantasies by 3 in the afternoon. Both were nervous, not sure how the other would react to what each had written.

"Do you want to start, or should I?" he asked.

"Here. Read mine. I don't know if I can wait."

He nodded and took her four pages. He read through them silently, giving no visible reaction. His lack of expression while he read them hung on her like a weight. She could not see his cock becoming erect inside his pants. He read through the being tied up fantasy and moved on to the backyard rape fantasy. In his mind, he noted that her first, of being tied up, was very similar to one of his. By the third one, he noticed a trend in her fantasies. They all involved her being subjugated or humiliated in some way. Her third, for example.

In this fantasy, I am kneeling in the bathtub, my hands locked behind me in handcuffs. I am naked and you are standing above me, also naked. You demand that I ask for it, beg for what I want. I'm trembling in fear and humiliation. I don't want to ask for it, I just want it over with. You grab my hair and tilt my head up towards you and spit out your demand. I cry out in pain as you pull on my hair and begin to sob.

"Please do it," I ask.

You respond with a cold voice, "Do what? Say it. I can stand here all day."

"Please... Please pee on me." I sob uncontrollably as my sick desire comes out, admitted to you.

Then, warm liquid hits my chest in a stream and I can smell the acrid odor of urine. It runs down my body. You move the stream around, painting me with yellow water. No part of me is left untouched as you finish by spraying over my face, my mouth and eyes closed tight. My body betrays me and I am repulsed at the fact that my nipples become erect and my pussy begins to drip as you piss on me.

When you are done, you bend down and stick your finger into me pussy, masturbating me. My already aroused pussy needs very little attention before you send me into an orgasm. While I am shuddering with pleasure, I lose control of myself and urinate, my piss flowing past my knees and legs, adding to yours.

When George finished reading all four, he sat silently, taking in what his lovely wife fantasized about. As he sat there, he heard her begin to cry softly. He put his arm around her and asked her, "Honey. Is this what you want to try?"

"I don't... I don't know. They make me hot when I think about them, but I don't know if I want to really have them happen. I know I don't want someone else to take me in the yard, but maybe you pretending to be some stranger. I just don't know. George, am I sick? I seem to only fantasize about being used I the most degrading of ways."

"Charlene, You're not sick. If you are, then I'm right there with you. Feel this." He took her hand and placed it on his crotch, where she could feel his erection. "These turn me on, as much as I don't want to admit it. Here, read mine."

Charlene took his papers and read through them. Her expressions were not so controlled as his. She cringed as she read the sodomizing fantasy and smiled at the tit fuck fantasy. The third one was much like her being tied up fantasy, bringing a sigh of relief that she and her husband were one the same page in at least one case. Her mouth dropped when she got to his fourth fantasy.

You are standing in a doorway, holding a bar above your head. You are naked with your legs spread. I am standing behind you, holding a whip, a cat of nine tails. I ask, "Are you are ready to submit?" and you shake your head. "Too bad," I say. I raise the whip and bring it down on your back. You scream at the pain. I ask again, "Will you submit?"

You respond with defiance, "No. I will never submit."

I whip you again, over and over. Each lash leaves red marks on your back or legs. You are screaming constantly at the pain that is being inflicted on you. My cock is getting hard as I watch you twist to avoid the blows even though you know you have no hope of doing so. Fluid is dripping down your legs as you become aroused by what is happening as well.

I stop again. You're hanging by your arms, your legs having given out on you. I ask again. "Will you submit?" Unable to speak, you nod your head. I drop the whip and hug you from behind. You gasp at the touch against the sensitive welts on your back. You let go of the bar and I half carry you to the bed, lying you on your belly. I undress and lie beside you and we drift off to sleep, knowing that you are mine forever.

Two thoughts were competing in Charlene's mind as she read the whipping fantasy. "How could he want to do this to me?" and "Why aren't I more terrified of this?" She turned to George and saw the look of utter embarrassment and shame on his face.

"Charlene, I'm so sorry. But I wanted to be honest with you. I knew you would be honest with me. I never want to hurt you. That's why it was so hard to spank Cherry. If you want, we'll throw that away and never mention it again."

"Dear, I don't know what I want. This should frighten me, but it doesn't, not that much. I'm even a little drawn to it, maybe. I don't want to be hurt. But the spanking thing, it showed that pain can be a turn on. I might be willing to do this one, if there was some way to give the pain of a whipping without the damage. I think, maybe. I don't know, I just don't know."

"Honey, I'm surprised. I had no idea that you would even consider this. I put it down as much from guilt as anything else. This does get me off. I don't like that it does, but it does. It was supposed to be kind of a confession. Are you sure?"

"No. No I'm not. I don't want to try it out right away. I need to think about it some more. And if I do decide to try it, we still need to be sure that I won't get hurt, not really. Now, the tying up fantasy, we both had that. We could start there, since we both seem turned on by it. Test out whether acting out fantasies has any real attraction. If we can't enjoy one that we both had, then there's not much chance for the others."

"I can see your point. When do you want to plan on it?"

"We need to get some rope to tie with. I can get that tomorrow. Are you going to be late tomorrow night?"

"Not that I know of. I'll see if I can get a book on knots. Maybe an old boy scout handbook."

"Sounds good."

They spent the rest of the day watching TV, trying to put the fantasies out of their minds. Neither was very successful at that. They had opened a Pandora's box that would not be closed. What had started with an attempt to overcome a phobia, was now a full fledged exploration into a world neither knew even existed. Pit falls abounded, some dangerous. With nothing but their love for one another, they were both walking blind into a new world of sexual excitement and potential danger.