tagErotic CouplingsChristina: Butt . . .

Christina: Butt . . .

byChristina Samuels©

Aaron snugged the rope around my right wrist then secured it to the headboard of our bed. I lay there: naked, spreadeagle, and completely at my darling's mercy. I watched as he began to unbutton his shirt.

"This is going to be fun." he said.

The sound of the doorbell stymied the moment.

"Be right back. Don't go anywhere. . ."

More from frustration than anything else, I fought against my bounds. It was a short battle. They won. I lost. Impatiently, I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Time lost all meaning.

My thoughts drifted and wandered.

The bedroom door creaked. I opened my eyes and turned my attention that direction. To my shock, there stood Becky and Sam.

"Hello, Chris." Becky said softly.

I tried my best to force a smile (and hide my embarrassment). "Hi."

"Aaron said you were a little `tied up'." Sam said.

"Where is that dear husband of mine?" I asked.

Becky walked over and sat down on the bed next to me. Her whisper-like touch traced the curve of my breast. "Watching a video Sam and I made the other night." she said.

I tried to pull away, but couldn't.

Sam sat down on the opposite side of me. His forceful touch pushed-past my pussy-lips and entered me. "I think you'd like it." he said, "The things Beck does are just incredible."

"Wh . . . what . . . what's going on?" I stammered.

"We're having our way with you." Becky said, "At Aaron's request. He said you've been acting a little too; demanding, sexually speaking, of late, and that you need to be reminded that what goes around cums around."

"So here's the deal." Sam said, "We say `Jump!', and you say `How high?'."

"Understand?" Becky added.

I thought for a long moment. Wanted to refuse, but for some reason; didn't. "Yes."

Becky and Sam moved off the bed. Lovingly; seductively, he undressed her. Standing face to face; he unbuttoned her blouse, then eased it from her. Her skirt fell next.

A short, yet passionate kiss.

He stepped behind, unhooked her bra, then let gravity do the rest. Her large breasts spilled-out and hung-down slightly. His hands drifted over her mature waist to her shapely hips, then eased her panties toward the floor.

My eyes darted over her now-naked body, and focused on her mound: neatly trimmed in the shape of a valentine.

"Do you like what you see?" Sam asked.

"Yes." I confessed.

Becky smiled, then approached and started to untie me.

"First," she began, "you're going to perform; cunnilingus, on me. . ."

Her use of the `clinical' term took me by surprise. The word sounded almost; foreign. Its pleasurable meaning: lost. Confused. My mind raced. Had I just become an unwitting participant in some study? Or had Becky fallen victim to an occupational hazard? (She's a psychologist.)

It mattered little.

"You want me to . . ." My words trailed off as a dark desire washed over me.

"Yes, Chris. I want you to treat me to your best oral delights. While Sam watches. Then . . . Why spoil the surprise."

It didn't take Becky long to finish her task. Once the last knot was undone, she bade me to move aside. Obediently, I complied, then waited as she lay back and slowly spread herself for me.

"You know what to do." she said softly.

Timidly, I crawled between her legs as Sam sat down in the overstuffed chair in the far corner of the room. My eyes darted between them. Searching for instruction. None was forthcoming.

I moved in closer. Her scent was sweet; not unlike my own. Yet . . . different.

Closer still.

Becky spread her legs a little more. Her pussy lips parted slightly. Her scent grew stronger. I stared at her womanly folds. Watched, as they began to flush. I extended my tongue and lightly licked the soft flesh. Her taste was enticing. I leaned in and kissed her swollen lips. Again. And again.

Growing more bold, I wet two fingers and held her open. Using my tongue, I slid-back the hood that shrouded her clit. My lips closed around it and I sucked gently.

Becky moaned her approval.

I continued my exploration. Pressing my mouth tightly against her, I extended my tongue as far as possible, and caressed her inner walls. My technique was awkward and unpracticed. I tried desperately to remember my own likes and dislikes.

Another soft moan, as I began to flick my tongue side-to-side: teasing her clit with rapid-fire, glancing blows.

"Mmm.

"Yes.

" That's it.

"Yes.

"Oooooo. Yes!"

Becky began rolling her hips up and down against my novice mouth. I tried my best to keep pace with her, but was unsuccessful.

Filled with an overpowering desire to please, I shifted position and once more pressed my mouth against her. Hungrily, I licked her inner walls. . . kissed her hot pussy-lips. . . sucked on her super-sensitized clit. My amateur status quickly faded.

" Ahhhhhhhh.

"Agggghhhhh!"

I perfected my traded.

More passionate kisses. . .

More intense sucking. . .

I turned my attention from her pussy and lavished it on her inner thighs and outer lips. Using gentle licks, I bathed her hot flesh.

"Oooooooo!

"Mmmmmmm!"

A small trickle of cum seeped from her. I wasted no time in lapping it up.

"Ooooooooo; yes!'

Once more I molded my mouth to her. This time, I began to fuck her with my tongue.

"Mmmmm.

"Ohhhhhhhhh.

"Ahhhhhhhh.

"Yes. Yes. Yesssss!"

Her cum continued to flow. I continued to relish each drop.

"Agggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!"

Far too soon; it was over.

"Well done, Chris!" Sam said, "You pushed her past the brink in record time!"

A sense of embarrassment washed over me.

"She's almost as good as you." Becky said, her breath ragged.

I raised up, and sat back on my heels. Sam grasped my wrists and placed my hands on top of my head. "Keep them there." he said. I did as instructed, and he began to roughly squeeze and knead my breasts.

Within moments, my nipples began to grow long and thick.

"Beck?" Sam said, "When you've; cum down a bit, would you get me the nipple clamps?"

"Mmm hmm."

My breasts quickly grew sore from Sam's un-gentle treatment.

"Are they as soft as they look?" Becky asked.

"Softer." Sam replied.

"How about her nipples? Are they as hard as they look?"

A sigh of relief (almost), as he began to pinch and roll my nipples. The change in focus was a welcome; diversion. Though short lived. After three or four go-rounds, I began to whimper like a hurt little kitten.

"Oh yeah!"

Becky smiled. . . almost laughed. . . stretched. . . then moved from the bed, reached in her purse and took out a pair of (fearsome-looking) clamps, linked by a heavy silver chain. I stared, in painful anticipation.

"What's the matter?" she asked, "Don't tell me you've never worn clover leaf nipple clamps before."

"No." I managed to squeak-out.

"You've never worn nipple clamps?"

"No. I mean, yes. Yes, I've worn them. But nothing like those."

"These are wicked." she said, "Each time you pull on the chain, the pressure increases. Not just for an instant, but until you release them. Does that worry you?"

"A little."

"It should." Sam added.

I closed my eyes and braced. Gently, Becky, fitted the first clamp over my aching right nipple and eased it shut. The slightly padded jaws held fast.

I drew a quick breath.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yes." I lied.

With a smile, she fitted the second over my terrified left. As before, the slightly padded jaws held fast. With that feathery touch of hers, she ran her finger the length of the chain: pushing down ever so lightly. The pressure built.

"You know Beck;" Sam said, releasing his hold on my breasts, "I never noticed before, but Chris has a cute little rear-end."

"Cute enough to fuck?" she asked.

Sam ran his finger down the length of the cleft between my butt-cheeks: dipping briefly into my unsuspecting hole. "Yeah. I'd say so."

Becky leaned forward and began to finger my pussy.

The pain in my breasts and nipples was soon forgotten.

She looked up with an amused grin on her face. "You sure are wet down here." she said, "Does that mean the idea of having Sam fuck your ass appeals to you?"

"Yes." I said quietly.

"Good!" she said.

Sam stepped around to the side of the bed and began to undress. When all that remained were his boxers, Becky crawled over and slid them down. My gaze focused; where else. My eyes widened at the sight of his increasing erection. Becky glanced over her shoulder, smiled, then began to stroke his sizable length. I watched as he grew and grew. Gasped; as Becky took all ten inches into her mouth. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine him penetrating my poor little butt.

"Get on your hands and knees in the center of the bed." Sam said; his tone filled with lust.

Almost fearfully, I did as instructed. Becky took the tube of k-y that was laying on the night stand and squeezed a generous portion onto my anxious butt-hole. With a technique that felt so strange, she expertly worked the cool gel inside. Using only her slender, index finger, she began to fuck me. Her pace was unbearably slow. Not a tease, necessarily, but a rhythm that conveyed - in no uncertain terms - who was in charge and whose pleasure was more important.

I tried my best to endure. To enjoy.

I wanted more.

Needed more.

Becky must have read my mind.

Without warning, she withdrew from me, then reentered employing three fingers. The slow finger-fuck was over. An intense, almost violent assault ensued.

I began to moan my approval. Becky laughed. "I think she's ready." she said.

"Roll her on her side." Sam said.

Becky giggled her delight, and positioned me so that I was laying on my left side, with my butt barely hanging over the edge of the bed. Sam stood behind me, grasped my right ankle and pointed my leg toward the ceiling. He hugged my thigh to him and entered me in one, forceful thrust.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!" I cried.

Sam withdrew slightly, then slammed back in.

"Aaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhh!"

Again.

"Aaaaaagggggghhhhhh!"

And again.

"Aaaggghhh."

It didn't take long for me to get used to his length and girth. "Agh. Aagghh. Aaaggghhh!" Nor his forceful way.

"Mmm. Mmm. Mmm!"

Harder.

Faster.

With each thrust, I could feel his heavy balls slapping my butt cheek.

"My turn." Becky said.

Sam pulled from me and released his grip on my leg. "On your back." he commanded.

My mind was swimming. I did as instructed, then stared in disbelief as Becky knelt between my legs wearing a huge strap-on. "Raise your hips." Sam said. I did, and he slipped a pillow underneath.

Becky hooked my knees with her elbows and leaned forward until her breasts were touching mine. Sam placed the head of the strap-on against my still-gaping hole and guided it as she thrust it home.

"Aaaaaagggggghhhhhh!"

As forcefully as Sam, Becky fucked my ass. With each stroke, her breasts collided with mine: occasionally catching the chain, and tightening the clamps' grip.

Harder.

Faster.

Cum began to seep from me and trickled down onto Becky's `cock'.

"That's it, Beck. Fuck her! Fuck her ass! Fuck it good!"

Becky's pace began to slow. And slow. Her stamina was waning. She pulled from me and rolled onto her side. "Fuck her chest." she panted.

Without missing a beat, Sam straddled me and began to do just that.

From force of habit, I pressed my breasts firmly against his shaft. Sam took full advantage and fucked them with the same vigor he had my ass.

A sharp tug on the chain - by Becky - caused me to yelp.

My nipples ached. . . My butt was sore. . . My pussy begged for attention.

Once more, Becky read my mind, and slipped a thick vibrator inside me and switched it on.

"Aaaaaagggggghhhhhh!" I cried.

Sam kept up his pace.

Orgasm after orgasm crashed over me. Finally it was Sam's time. Stream after stream of his hot cum seared my cheeks until . . .

The bedroom door creaked shut. "That was Lori." Aaron said, "She wanted to know if I'd be interested in taking pictures at her parent's fiftieth wedding anniversary."

"Lori?" I said, the fog lifting.

Aaron got undressed and sat down next to me. "Yeah. I was going to ask her if she wanted to join us, but figured you might object."

I struggled against my bounds. No use. Aaron gently stroked my pussy, then entered me with his touch. "You sure are wet down here." he said, "Does that mean you wish I'd have asked her?"

"Maybe. . ."

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