tagLoving WivesFasten Your Seatbelts

Fasten Your Seatbelts


Thanks to Lustyleader for her editing of the story, she was a great help. This account is fictional and the persons in the pictures did not participate in the events below.


"We're going to Antigua" my husband, John, told me a few weeks ago. It was time for vacation and some time away from the kids and his stressful job. My husband is a business executive, well known in the community, so I really can't discuss our private matters with my friends, as a little gossip of our amorous encounters could be ruinous to his career. I am Victoria. I love Literotica, which allows me to write anonymously, relating how exciting he has made my life.

John is an adventuresome lover, and our vacations are filled with unexpected surprises. We travel once or twice a year, acting out our sexual fantasies during these travels. I am 42 years old with a very fit body. John refers to me as "my MILF" whenever we are alone. When we go on vacation, he takes me to the finest restaurants, and we stay in the most luxurious accommodations. In return, he insists that I always wear dresses or skirts, and while pantyhose are acceptable (He and I like the European pantyhose, such as Levante, that have a glossy finish), he strongly prefers stockings, worn with seductive heels for dinner and evening entertainment. He insists on approval of any shoes I purchase, vetoing my more sensible choices of footwear. I willingly accommodate his proclivity for stockings, frequently wearing Berkshire stockings which adhere more smoothly to my legs during the day. For special occasions, a vintage pair of reinforced toe and heel stockings (his favorites have a reinforced sole and seams ) are de rigueur, possessing a gossamer sheerness that always leads to intense lovemaking. He unabashedly admits to a nylon fetish, worshiping my encased taut and tanned legs starting at my red toenails, ending at the top of the welt, licking the smooth nylon like a pet lapdog relishing his favorite treat.

As we were preparing to leave to the airport, he gave me a new pair of panties to wear for the flight to Antigua. Not unexpected, as John always plans an erotic adventure on vacation trips. I went to the bathroom and replaced my panties with the new pair. They had some stretch, were slightly smaller than my usual size but they felt comfortable once I put them on. Over the top, I put on his favorite pair of taupe pantyhose and a mid- height pair of heels with a peep toe. He would like me to wear stockings as he loves to see me in public rearranging my skirt to hide the tops of stockings. But, I reminded him that it could be very embarrassing going through a metal detector at our local airport with metal garters holding the stockings. I wore a knit blue skirt that came to above my knees, and a white blouse with a wide lapel that fastens with a button between my cleavage, a prim and proper wife.

We found our seats in the first class cabin and I sunk into the large seat by the window preparing to get comfortable for the flight. The attendant brought us each a glass of fine champagne to drink while the other passengers took their seats. John must have ordered it as he knows that champagne has an immediate effect, tempering my inhibitions, initiating my transition to becoming a concubine, yearning for his debauchery. We fastened our seat belts, and soon the plane was en route to our vacation in Antigua.

Once we were aloft, the seatbelt sign was turned off after reaching the cruising altitude. John presented me with a small box wrapped red wrapping paper with a gold bow. He whispered in my ear "take this back to the restroom, and put this little item between your legs. I am sure you can figure it out ". I excused myself, and entered the first class toilet. Inside the box was a plastic tubular shaped device and both ends were rounded.

( See http://www.drugstore.com/intimina-kiri-personal-massager-cerise/qxp366913?catid=181993 ). I suspect this was a vibrator as it was bright pink in color but there was no on-off switch. I put the vibrator in place in a small pocket in the panties which held it between my labia. It was not uncomfortable, barely noticeable. I pulled up my pantyhose over the panties and vibrator, securing it firmly in place. When I returned to my seat, John gave me a smile, sensuously touched my nylon clad thigh, caressing it briefly under my skirt before shutting his eyes to sleep.

I was reading a romantic novel that I brought with me for the flight.. After approximately one hour, I heard over the speaker

"the Captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, please fasten the seatbelt securely as we are approaching some turbulence"

I did is I was told. As soon as the seatbelt sign alit and I fastened by belt, I started to feel a subtle vibration coming from the vibrator. The stimulation certainly would not be enough to bring me to orgasm, especially in this public situation. However, it was sufficient to make me put down my book and shut my eyes. The slight sexual arousal brought back mental visions of our weekend in New York City recently. I pulled up my knees, turned to my side and shut my eyes as I reminisced about a prior adventure.

We had checked into a luxury hotel in New York City, and we were on the 15th floor in a room with a balcony facing Central Park. I wore the requisite taupe stockings with 4 " high heeled sandals held in place with two small straps around each of my ankles (John's choice), and a tight fitting dress. My husband had given me a lingerie set including a lacy garter belt, quarter cup bra and matching thong (see http://lomejordeldia.tumblr.com/post/29192714625 for the apparel). We had a wonderful dinner, and when we returned to the hotel room, he had arranged for strawberries with luscious whipped cream, and champagne to top off the evening. After enjoying several glasses of champagne, he turned on romantic mood music, turned out all the lights, removed my dress and thong (he insists I wear the thong over the garter straps) leaving me in my stockings, heels, garter belt and bra. He led me by my hand to the balcony, putting my hands on the railing, and whispered in my ear "spread your legs---widely". He had obviously selected the hotel carefully, as the balcony had dividers so that I was not visible from the adjacent rooms, only from the street 15 stories below on a dark night.

I could sense the summer breeze, sometimes warm, sometimes cool, swirling between my thighs, flickering my pubic hairs ever so slightly. In front of me was the darkness of Central Park and the surrounding city lights. My legs were spread apart as far as they could be without being prohibitively uncomfortable. "Keep looking straight ahead" he told me in a soft voice. He then went behind me, and started on my ankle, licking my stocking clad leg to the top of the stocking welt, and then licking above the stocking on the other leg. I then felt his fingers separating my pussy lips. "Pinch your nipples" he told me and I dutifully obeyed, squeezing the areola that were protruding above the edge of the bra cup. "And keep your legs apart; if you move I will have to stop!" The high heels tilted my buttocks upward, so there was no resistance to his finger stroking my vagina, starting at the clitoris, over my slit, to the soft hidden spot between my vagina and anus. I could sense he was repositioning himself so that his tongue could lick my clitoris, flicking it with the tip of his tongue followed by deep penetration of my vaginal opening.

I must have been seen as too vulnerable, too delectable, too concupiscent, to bring this to a premature conclusion. I heard him leave the balcony, I pinched my nipples to diminish my near-orgasmic arousal. He went into the hotel room, and then returned but I was unable to see him. Then, I felt him applying the cool whipped cream remaining from the dessert cart along the crack of my buttocks. He placed one of the large strawberries in my vaginal opening, sufficiently deep to insure it would not be dislodged. His tongue started at the top of my buttocks slowly cleaning along the crevice. I reached down between my legs with my middle finger, but he gave me a slap on the hand and said "I only allowed you to touch your nipples".

The whipped cream started to liquefy from my body heat, causing a trickle of the sweetened fluid toward my vagina. His tongue paused at my anal dimple. My breathing became irregular, hesitating, wondering if he would explore my forbidden tunnel. He resumed his licking, reached the lower extent of the buttocks. My sex felt saturated with the white liquid. As I looked down, John had positioned himself lying between my legs, his mouth open to gather any errant droplets. I looked into his eyes, his neck flexed to return my gaze. His tongue slightly protruded, displaying a slight curl of the tip, his special talent that endowed him with unique cunnilingatory expertise. With my stiletto perched ankles wobbly, I gripped the balcony railing firmly and squatted over his face, stretching the nylon over my weakened knees, extending the garters to their limit, splaying my labia widely, surrendering my last modicum of modesty. He reached up with both hands, grabbing onto the waist of my garter belt and pulled me securely to his mouth. His tongue entered my tunnel, probing the edges of the strawberry, preparing to dislodge the tasty prize. With a sudden dart of the tongue, he manipulated the berry into his mouth, then let go of my garter belt so he could savor the berry . He returned to my opening, as the strawberry had held back the contents of my love canal, voraciously devouring the mixture of sweet cream and female nectars as if intoxicated by its aphrodisiacal powers. Only a few tongue flicks left me a quivering orgasmic harlot, unashamedly perched on the balcony for public viewing.

"The Captain has turned off the fasten seatbelt sign, and you are free to move about the cabin" came across a loud speaker. I aroused from my trance, and the vibrator stopped. John slept motionless next to me.

We were about 2 hours now outside of Toronto, and I had no idea how John had turned on this vibrator but now hoping he would restart it soon. I could only assume that he had a remote control device but could not see where he had moved his hands to initiate the device. John had dozed off, with his head tilted away from me. We were now over the ocean. Suddenly, the plane dropped altitude quickly; the seatbelt sign came on immediately.

"Capt. Jones has turned on the fastened seatbelt sign because of the turbulence encountered. Please return to your seats, and fasten your seatbelts."

I fastened the belt and immediately, I felt the vibrator start but slightly more intense than the last time. Still not enough that I would ever expect an orgasm to occur but even more stimulating than the last. I felt a warm flush over my body, and an immediate increase in the moisture in the crotch of my panties. I crossed my legs, intentionally to intensify the effect of the subtle vibrations on my clitoris. My eyes closed and I had a slight smile on my face, knowing that he had taken control of me.

The next vision that came into my head was our vacation in Costa Rica. We had an open air bungalow, on the water, well protected from the public but lacking doors or windows for privacy (view at http://www.flipkey.com/puerto-viejo-vacation-rentals/p261237/ ) . It was a tropical paradise. I had brought with me the book "Shades of Gray" which had just been released. We had 2 beautiful days of sun and surf, on our own private beach, just outside our bungalow. On the third day there was a torrential rain and there really was nothing else to do but to stay inside. I read most of the day as we relaxed, waiting for the rain to subside. The following day was more rain, and John and I were lying on the bed side by side. He had fallen asleep with his arms outstretched over his head. I had resumed my reading. John looked so vulnerable; I knew I could add some adventure to our afternoon, inspired by the eroticism of the book.

I went over to my suitcase, and I had brought 3 pairs of stockings (John would have me wear stockings continuously if he could). The weather was so warm and humid I knew I would not wear them during this trip, they would just be too uncomfortable. John is a very heavy sleeper. I got up out of the bed, unwrapped the packages of stockings so I had 6 at my disposal. Very delicately, I tied one stocking to each arm and leg and then secured each to the foot and the head of the bed. The bed had a wood frame with posts at all 4 corners and a headboard. I then took my blindfold that I use for travel, put it over his eyes and slid one stocking over his head to secure the blindfold in place. I pulled the stocking down firmly so it fit tightly over his face, then lifted the welt back up over his nose, leaving his mouth uncovered. I saw him jerk his arms and legs and I believe he had the message that he was now under my command. He never spoke a word. The smooth nylon pulled taut across his nose, his nostrils compressed to a slit-like opening. I tested all the binds, and secured them more tightly now that he was awake. Each of his extremities was stretched to the maximum, attached to the corners of the bed. As the piece de resistance, I tied the sixth stocking around his cock and balls firmly, and kept the remainder of the stocking draped over his chest. I whispered in his ear "how does it feel to be my toy boy"

He was a sight to relish. I touched my finger to the head of his cock, making a circular motion around the rim slowly while holding his now rigid tool upright. My only variation was to alternate my circular motion between a clockwise and counterclockwise direction, with a brief pause between the directional change. I read the next chapter of the book and as I did, I continuously toyed with his cock head, knowing that without stroking his penis shaft, the stimulation would never be sufficient for an orgasm.

When I came to the end of the chapter, I assumed a standing position over his face, then squatted in the vicinity of his tongue while holding on to the headboard to stabilize my position. I could feel the smooth nylon covering his face on my thighs. Using the stocking attached to his cock, I tugged as his signal to start licking. He quickly learned his duty and intuitively knew that a more forceful pull on his constrained cock meant I wanted him to lick faster. I allowed him to pleasure me briefly, and then I returned to my book and the stimulation of his cockhead with my index finger. I unctuously lubricated my fingerpad with his ample pre-cum, minimizing the friction. The open windows of the cottage added to the daring while the raindrops on the roof provided the rhythm of my motion.

After completing each chapter of the book, I returned to squatting over his face, pulling on the binding around his cock to finely tune the intensity of his lapping, as if his tongue had been replaced with a kinky electronic invention. With each encounter, the wetness of my pussy increased and I squatted closer to his mouth, allowing the tongue to penetrate and stimulate my vagina, nearly smothering him with my pussy.

I had about 6 chapters to finish the book. At the end of the last chapter, I shut the book loudly and threw it on the floor. He was rigid as he anticipated the culmination of his bondage. I had retied the stocking around his cock and balls to make sure it was firmly in place. I mounted his cock, and ever so slowly lowered myself until he was buried in my vagina. I was careful not to provide him with any unnecessary stimulation so as to inadvertently initiate his orgasm. I sat in place, placing my finger on to my clitoris and masturbating slowly. After a few minutes, I successfully had an orgasm, screaming until realizing that all the windows were wide open and only then did I cover my mouth.

Carefully, I untied his hands and retied them behind his back, knowing full well that if he wanted his predicament to be over he could easily escape. Although he struggled, it was halfhearted and I eventually had his hands bound behind securely behind his back. I unfastened his feet from the posts, and then pulled on the stocking attached to his cock and balls. "Come with me toy boy, I don't want you to escape." I brought him over to the door leading to the bathroom, and securely fastened the stocking to the door knob, leaving about 12 inches between the gold doorknob and the head of his cock. His cock was remaining hard, insuring that he could not slip from the genital bondage. I finished by tying his feet together. He was facing the opening to the bathroom with a tub spa in his direct line of sight. I removed the stocking mask.

I turned on the water, and slid into the bathtub, keeping my gaze fixed on John at the door. Here was my loving husband, staid businessman, community leader transformed into a bound sexual pet, foregoing refined propriety, unwilling to end his degradation, surrendering to my capricious whim of denied sexual pleasure. As I continued to stare at him, I lifted my legs over the side of the tub and positioned my clitoris in front of one of the water jets, emitting a luxurious stream of water and bubbles. I focused my stare on his rigid cock and slowly licked my red lips, my second orgasm evolved in his full sight, his cock firmly restrained, hands unavailable, his only pleasure is watching his tormenter in the throes of ecstasy.

My eyes open as I hear:

"The Captain has turned off the seatbelt sign, you are free to move around the cabin". The vibrator stopped, I took a deep breath and returned to the reality of the trip.

We were now about an hour and a half from Antigua. The last hour had been calm, no need for seatbelts. However, just as we went over the island of Puerto Rico, I saw storm clouds and immediately anticipated the lighting of the seat belt icon, initiating a wave of moisture from my vagina. The warning was announced, however, this time the vibrator did not start immediately. My husband still had his eyes closed, and I was worried that he had actually fallen asleep. I put my hand between my legs, trying to make sure there was no way I could start the vibrator myself. I started to squirm in my seat and looked increasingly agitated as I stared at John, waiting for the vibrations to begin. Our flight attendant quietly came to the seat "Madam, please fasten your seatbelt" he instructed, and I detected a combination of sternness in his voice, but a sultry grin on his face. With the click the belt, the vibration began again. "Make sure the belt is pulled tightly across your waist" he added as I already started to daydream.

Las Vegas, our last trip, flashed into my imagination.

About one month before going to Las Vegas, John started to refer to our vacation as a trip to Sin City. We have a habit of reading some erotic stories as part of our foreplay, and he brought out a new book and selected vignettes describing erotic anal sex. Previously, he had occasionally stimulated my puckered hole with his finger, but never anything more daring. I was starting to have a hint that this trip might be a little more nefarious. If this was his desire, I wanted it to be a success. When home alone, I started to use my bedside vibrator to desensitize my anus. I used the plastic rod, first to become accustomed to the penetration and then later practicing relaxation as the vibrator entered my anus. After several days, I noticed my rectum more accepting of the instrument. In the meantime, I was able to find a training butt plug on Amazon and it was delivered in 48 hours.( see http://www.amazon.com/Trinity-Vibes-Anal-Trainer-Set/dp/B001UOU98S for the plug (s) I bought) The following week, I was able to insert the smallest plug and wear it for 5 minutes and then increasing the time progressively each day. On the day before we were to leave, I dressed in a lacy garter belt, a pair of full-fashioned stockings with seams, and a pair of the 3 1/2 inch patent leather blue stiletto heels and inserted the mid-sized butt plug with little resistance. I spent the next hour vacuuming, dusting and picking up the children's room upstairs, able to perform these duties as usual despite having the plug distending my anal sphincter. I had successfully transformed myself from a proper housewife; anticipating the naughtiest of deeds.

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