Ann: The Married Years Ch. 38

Her rightful place in her home, namely next to her husband in bed, had been taken away that week; a series of slutty stand-ins becoming his 'wife'. For five days she endured the idea of someone else pretending to be her, a different woman each day, all making love to her husband, then sleeping with him during the night, only to be fucked awake by his magical cock the following morning. Five of her friends, being called upon to live her life, and reap the benefits of how incredible he was as a man and lover, while she watched from a corner in her bedroom, or listened from below in her dungeon.

That feeling was fresh on her mind as she watched Brooke swallow his cock whole like she'd been born with one in her mouth. It was fresh because she'd been thinking of her week as Annabelle, submitting to her powerful master. After all, it was that event that taught her things about herself. More than anything, it taught her the value of being patient, and it manifested in the desire to become a mother. As strange as it sounded even to her, that incredible experience was the catalyst for her to want to have a baby.

It was now also the answer to the question Neil had been asking since he returned to the room that morning. She needed a reason for why an agent would allow herself to become pregnant. It was only logical for her to think of how it really happened. He had just alluded to how well she'd been trained when she woke up tied in the closet, referring to her week and a half as Annabelle as how the CIA prepared Pamela Bouvier as an agent. Ann thought of it much differently. In her mind, Pamela had been held captive in a dungeon against her will.

She wasn't sure she was outright jealous of Brooke at the moment, but she certainly had something in the pit of her stomach that mirrored it. Maybe it was envy, or misplaced anger, but an angst welled up inside. The way his cock moved in Brooke's throat captivated her; his heavy balls slapping up against her chin as he rocked his hips. She could see the head of his cock as it moved in her throat, like an Adam's apple protruding as he fucked her pretty little mouth.

"God, I wish that was me," she garbled, her own mouth held wide open by the red rubber ball of the gag she was wearing. Drool was seeping out past her lips, rolling over her cheeks and chin until it dripped on her chest. Confined as she was, she couldn't take her eyes off the action just a few feet in front of her, the crack in the door hiding her physically. It also hid the desire suddenly growing deep in her chest to be the Bond girl on her knees in front enigmatic spy, instead of the one shoved in a closet.

The very notion of that scene made her pause. A Bond girl, having to hide in the closet as Bond bedded a different one in the bed just outside it.

"Which movie was that?" she wondered; her mind temporarily distracted from what was happening through the crack. "I remember the girl in the closet was blonde. And she was locked in a trunk of a car at one point too."

She racked her brain, running through movie titles. She knew it was one that starred Roger Moore, and it was one she rather liked despite some of its campy elements. "Oh! The Man with the Golden Gun," she nodded happily, finally thinking of it.

That moment didn't last long as Neil pulled out, pointing his hard, fleshy weapon at Brooke's head. He grabbed the shaft, stroking it slowly before exploding all over her face and hair. Brooke sighed, and then giggled as he continued spraying her with hot jets of white sperm. Ann groaned, thinking of the girl in the movie, and how she must have felt knowing what was happening on the other side of the closet door. Only this was worse. She was actually watching it.

Then her mind played another trick, shifting from the reality of what she witnessed back to the movies their fantasy was based on.

"You never think of one if his girls sucking his cock," she reasoned, "but you have to think they did. Hell, you'd have to think he'd do anything he wanted to with them."

It was a logical conclusion to make, even if it was pure fiction. Who knew the sexual proclivities that Commander Bond might have? All that was certain from the persona created by the films were that he was a womanizer, and most of the men in that category would not think twice about pushing a young beauty to her knees as soon as she came into a room to make her suck their cock.

Brooke stood, her face coated with a thick frosting of his cum, her smile brightening the dark room.

"That was fun," she said excitedly.

"Plenty more where that came from," he grinned. Then he stunned her by pulling her in for a kiss.

"Holy shit," she panted when she pulled back, the idea of him tasting his load on her lips one she hadn't anticipated. "You're full of surprises, aren't you James?"

"As are you, Miss Evans," he said, and she knew he meant her deepthroating abilities. So did Ann.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. The power came on about an hour ago... I want to get cleaned up before all the hot water is gone."

"What time is it?"

"It's almost three. But the roads are still a mess, so you're still better off staying the night."

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

"Good. Why don't you hop in bed, and I'll be there in a little bit," she giggled.

He playfully smacked her ass on the way by. "Whatever you say."

Once he heard the spray of the shower, he instead returned to the closet to check on his wife. Opening the door, he marveled at the color of her breasts, the binds of the white rope in stark contrast to the dark purplish tan. A trickle of milk continued to leak from her nipples, rolling over the contour of her tits. She looked miserable, and yet she somehow formed a sweet smile from behind the gag.

"The power is back on, as I'm sure you heard," he said, lifting up her heavy breasts, rolling his thumbs across the tender, swollen buds at the tips. "Unfortunately, I have to finish debriefing Agent Evans, which may take some time, so these are going to have to wait to be milked. Hopefully you'll come to your senses and give me the information I'm looking for. Until then, I think we'll try to motivate you a little more."

Flipping the switch on the egg vibrator, he turned it on high before kissing her on the forehead. Then he closed the closet door again, this time leaving the crack just a little wider. "No noises, Pamela. I'd hate to have to stop what I'm doing to come shut the door."

Ann groaned when he walked away, the buzzing deep inside her pussy already having the desired effect he was hoping for. An effect she was suddenly dreading.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was rage in Ann's eyes.

Her muscles strained, tightening as her lower limbs fought against the binds lashing them to the chair. The hands cuffed behind her back were clenched in fists. She could feel the tenseness in her neck and upper chest, her breathing becoming ragged once again. The ropes around her breasts were pulling harder as she squirmed; drool was flowing from her mouth. Adding to that, sweat covered her body, and tears were running down her cheeks.

And she loved it. All while hating it. Her climax was in full force, ravaging her body in the most incredible and agonizing ways, and she was wrestling with her internal demons, wanting to scream out and let the couple fucking so gloriously on the bed know that she was cumming yet again.

She wasn't feeling jealous any longer, if she ever really had. Any envy she felt had more to do with wanting to be a part of what was happening in the room, not with the fact that Brooke was currently riding her husband like a porn star. It was hard to covet what the nimble little blonde was experiencing when she'd had more orgasms in the closet from what Neil was doing to her surreptitiously.

As Ann came violently inside the closet, Brooke was facing her, her back to Neil as she slid up and down his rigid shaft. He was grasping her ribs just underneath her small perky breasts, guiding her movements. Her feet were planted firmly next to his hips, her hands next to his shoulders as she rocked her pelvis to meet his upward thrusts.

They were in something like their twelfth position since they'd started, the two proving to be well-suited for each other sexually, finding their rhythms meshed perfectly. And they anticipated each other, something he found exhilarating. If he shifted a certain way, she'd quickly adapt. She'd change positions subtly, using her body in imaginative ways to get a response, and he'd smoothly adjust to something that would give her more pleasure. It was a fluid, sexual dance about the mattress, the two finding different ways to fuck each other. And she was reveling in the experience, having cum several times from the size of his magnificent cock.

He didn't know for sure how old she was, but guessed her to be in her mid-twenties. She was athletic and energetic, her body molding to his like no other, with the notable exception being the woman waiting patiently in the wings. That is if being tied to a chair in a closet could be considered waiting patiently. Brooke was like a younger version of Ann. While he knew his wife was the perfect lover for him, it was remarkable how similar Brooke was to her in so many ways, their body type and their enthusiasm for sex being two of them.

Yet it was that love for Ann that swelled in his heart even as he rammed his shaft into another woman. He glanced often toward the crack he'd left in the closet door, knowing she was there, watching. He imagined her piercing brown eyes, feeling their gaze. How incredible it was the she loved him so much, she gave him opportunities like what he was doing. They'd been together five years, and still that was sometimes hard for him to rationalize. She was such a giving woman, and it made her happy to make him happy. And he was certain, no matter how much physical and mental torment Ann was enduring in that closet, that she was indeed happy at that very moment.

It was the security of knowing they would both be content in their relationship even if they never did anything sexual outside of their marriage that allowed them to do it at all. Ann knew Neil didn't need to fuck other women to be happy. And he knew she didn't need her dalliances with women, or the oral fun she had with men at the annual party they took part in, to be content. They had an incredible marriage, solidly built on faith and trust. It was that awareness, knowing they were connected forever in their hearts that made doing those kinds of things not only possible, but exciting for both of them.

As Neil ground his hips upward, meeting Brooke's downward plunges, he kept his eyes on the darkness of the crack; darkness in which Ann was cloaked, undoubtedly watching. He could feel their eyes connecting, even if he couldn't prove it. There was a point when he was certain he saw them, as if they were shining in the dark, like a sexy feline tigress lying in wait. It made him smile.

The weekend had magically taken on more meaning. It wasn't just five years of marriage they were commemorating. It was five years of building on the very foundation they created. It was unspoken between them, but what they were doing was confirming who they were as a couple; a reminder of what they were together. Powerful came to mind. Imaginative did as well. As did loving, caring and giving; it was the shared heart of who they were together, and they were spending the weekend validating all of it.

Their stay at the Inn was a retreat of sorts; an erotic form of marriage counseling, where they were exploring themselves as individuals and as a couple sexually. While it wasn't like they were testing each other, they were reaffirming what they wanted from each other and their marriage. They were making sure, in their own unique way, that they were still comfortable with the way their relationship worked; both secure enough that if things seemed wrong, they would talk it out afterward and make whatever changes they needed to stay true to each other going forward.

Obviously, they weren't the same people they'd been when they got married. They'd had to grow together in other ways besides sex. After all, they hardly knew each other when they became engaged, and that engagement wasn't exactly long or normal. They were barely together in either time or proximity. They'd had to define themselves as a couple after they were married. Their weekend stay was more than just a celebration of what they felt was a landmark anniversary; it was also about where then next five years were going to take them. It was a reality check about the state of their marriage, and they were reminded just how much they loved each other, and how much fun they had being open and honest about what they wanted their life together to be.

There was the idea that Ann was tied as she was in the closet, forced to watch while orgasms ripped through her like electric shocks. He knew her love for him was just as strong as her desire to endure the physical and emotional challenges, and that what she was doing at that very moment was something she loved and craved, however hard it might be for some to comprehend.

And then there was that Neil was romping around in bed with a younger version of herself, a notion that would mortify most women. But not Ann. The pangs of jealousy she'd felt were all part of the angst she'd built into the role she chose to play. It was just like him to test her, to push her limits, to make her feel that envy. Still she smiled behind the ball gag, thrilled her overactive sexual imagination had once again created a scenario where he could use his own improvisation skills. He was getting exactly what he wanted from the hot, sexy blonde riding his fat cock. And so was Ann, getting off on watching him. While that was just as hard to explain as her penchant for being bound and experiencing pain, she got turned on watching her husband with other women.

Neil watched the sliver of space, knowing he was making eye contact. He gripped Brooke's perky tits, squeezing them, pulling her nipples, all while looking directly at his wife. She could read his thoughts in his eyes, the milk from her own breasts seeping more, as if he were somehow pulling on hers instead.

In a sweeping move, he grabbed Brooke's breasts harder, using them to hold her as he quickly spun. In seconds she was on her hands and knees, his cock still buried inside her.

"Wow," she panted, the suddenness of the change taking her breath away. "You make me feel so small when you do that."

He leaned in, his hands sliding to her back, pressing her chest to the mattress. "You're not small. You're perfect," he whispered. "And you're on the pill, right?"

"You wouldn't be fucking me like this if I wasn't," she groaned, looking over her shoulder, her pretty face now pressed against the bed.

"Good. It's time to feed Miss Bouvier," he grimaced, throwing his hips forward as he buried his shaft deep into her pussy, holding himself still as he fired his sperm inside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"A girl could get used to this," Brooke sighed, her arms stretched out to her sides as her eyes locked onto the mauve colored canopy over her head. She could barely focus on it, her eyes blinking wildly as she recovered. She lie still, her lower legs dangling over the edge of the bed, her thighs still spread wide.

Neil was busy pulling the chair upright after having tilted it forward onto just the front legs. He'd held it in that precarious position with Ann still tied to it, forcing her to eat Brooke's delicious cum-filled pussy. Her big breasts bobbed as the chair landed in place on all four legs; her face covered with Brooke's cum, along with a bit of his.

"You're welcome," she sighed as she closed her eyes, hoping the pain in her throbbing tits would finally be relieved like he'd promised. "Now, will you please take care of me, James?" she pleaded.

"Are you going to tell me what I need to know?"

"There's nothing to tell. Please, just believe me."

"You know I can't do that, Pamela. That's not how our business works. I guess we'll have to keep going," he shrugged.

"If you say so," she replied unafraid. She'd been subjected to so much to that point she wasn't sure what else he could do unless he did an about face and started handing out more pain. And that was something he'd professed he wasn't going to do. His plan was to go easy on that, taking advantage of the natural pain that came from not having her breasts milked. Yes, he'd added a little to that by roping them tightly at the base, the binds still in place even though she was out of the closet. But for the most part he was torturing her with orgasms, and it was hard for her to be upset about that.

That is until she recalled other times she'd been tied to chairs, and he'd forced her to cum more than she thought humanly possible. The first time was in the cabin in Colorado, and it was technically a couch. But she came so much she passed out. Then there was the time in the hotel in their town, on her trip to visit before they were married. He'd left her tied, watching what she called 'imitation porn' all day. She was the author of her own fate that day, having the remote control of the egg vibrator in her hand. But the result was the same; more orgasms than she could count, although she had to give him a number when he returned to the room. One she made up just to get to the punishment, actually tiring of having cum so often.

And there were other times he'd tied her in some fashion, using various toys to make her cum over and over. As they ran through her head, she suddenly became nervous.

"Why am I being so cavalier about this?" she wondered, quickly realizing the results of so much pleasure could be just as agonizing as being on the end of a riding crop. "Hell, he already made me pass out once today from cumming so much!"

Brooke was still basking in the pleasure Ann had just given her. After she and Neil came, he'd retrieved his wife from the closet, carrying her while still tied to the chair. Setting her down at the foot of the bed, he motioned for Brooke to scoot her body to the edge. She lay on her back as Neil tipped the chair forward onto its front legs, holding it steady as Ann's face found Brooke's pussy.

Ann cleaned Brooke out, searching for his cum, making her cum in the process. She wasn't trying to at first, more intent of finding his sperm, almost as if taking it back like it was meant for her all along. But once she finished, she decided to show her young friend just what kind of woman he was really married to. Latching onto her clit, she sucked wildly, making her cum so hard she shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Now it was Ann's turn once again, her chair placed near the dying fire. He decided against adding another log, instead just stoking the flames a bit to make it rise up. Retrieving her wand vibrator from the suitcase full of toys, he plugged it in, along with the breast pump.

"As you know, the power is back on," he said as he wiggled the big bulbous head of the wand between her pussy and the cushion of the chair, forcing her labia apart. Her swollen clit protruded from its hood, sticking out ominously. The vibrating egg long since removed, he flipped the switch on the wand, going straight to the highest setting. "It's time to see if we can make you scream louder than Miss Evans."

"James, please," she croaked, her voice shaky.

Recalling how he'd made her drink the milk he collected the night before, he nodded his head as he lifted her left breast. "You still seem thirsty. Perhaps we should take care of these so you can have some more."

"Oh God," she whimpered, knowing she needed it to be done so desperately, but that it was also likely going to be painful and drawn out.