Lease My Wife

I snap a photo.

"Pose a bit."

You do, taking some silly, comical poses, some serious portrait poses and some alluring, enticing, come-hither poses.

I love you.

I reach into the back seat and pull my ditty bag over the seat back.

I set the bag on the driver's seat and, standing through the Sunrider, I loosen the rope to open it and I pull out a bag of short ties. I step over to stand astride your legs and you lean forward to kiss the fly of my jeans. I take your left wrist, lift it, and pressing your head against the headrest with my hips, I tie your wrist to the strutwork of the Sunrider. And repeat it with your right.

I swing my leg over you and sit on my ditty, feeling the ropes and other gear stowed in it compress. I look at you, sitting, smiling and I smile, too. NOW we are in familiar territory, though in a place we have never played before. I take several photos, no need to tell you what to do.

I reach down, unzip your vest to your waist and shoot a few. I open your vest, revealing your breasts and belly, now exposed to the winter air. You are visibly uncomfortable, but your growing excitement as the plan unfolds, warms you from the inside.

You skin pales as your blood flees your surface and you take on an angelic glow in the cold.

These photos will be outstanding. As are your nipples, standing high and clear against the paling skin of your tits.

I untie your hands and you fold them together in your lap. You look so amazing like that, I take a few photos I had not intended.

I get out, wade around the Gladiator and open your door, helping you out. I lead you to stand facing the rock face.

"Put your hands on the cliff."

You lean slightly forward and lay your hands on the stone. You immediately pull back.

"SHIT, that's cold."

"Cold?"

"Cold."

"What a surprise."

You stand looking back over your shoulder at me.

"Figure it out. I want you leaning on the rock."

You begin rubbing the stone where your hands will press, trying to warm it. You keep looking back at me like you do when I tell you to do something you do not want to do, but know you will end up doing it anyway.

You watch me break off a small, thin tamarak bough and I sweep over our footprints and drag marks in the deep snow.

You watch until I pick up the camera and turn to you.

"Now."

You do not move.

"Now, hands on the cliff and lean on it."

You do. I snap a few.

"Look back over your shoulder. To me."

You do. I snap a few.

"Turn to me."

You push off from the rock and turn, your vest hangs loosely open to your waist, still covering all but the insides of your tits.

I snap a few.

"Pull it open."

You do, holding the vest open, exposing your stupendous tits and lifting the bottom to tease at revealing your snatch. I snap a few photos.

"Unzip all the way."

I snap a few as you bend down to release the hem, bending toward me, and the camera... the vest hanging loosely down, revealing your tits heavy and swaying.

When you stand the vest again hangs loosely, this time framing your newly shaved pussy.

You are shivering with the cold. But, still, you are excited by what is happening to you, what is happening between us.

"Open it."

You pull the vest to the sides and let it hang on the outside of your thrusting tits.

After snapping a few, "Hold it open, wide as you can."

You grip the zippered edge and spread the puffy vest as wide as you can, the deep blue framing your delicious body against the background of the brown-and-black stone punctuated by small white where the snow sits on variations in the rockface.

"Drop it."

You doff the vest and stand naked in the snow before the frozen rock. You are warmed, energized by the erotic flames bursting within you. You pose coyly, artfully, provocatively. You stroke your belly. You place your hands behind your head, behind your ass, thrusting forward. You fondle your breasts, pinch your nipples. You touch your naked cunt. I'm snapping away, capturing all this.

I grab some line from my ditty and wade into you. Looping your wrists and ankles, I tie you stretched spreadeagled to the trees framing the rockface and back out, once again using the tamarak bough to brush the signs of passage and labor marking the snow. It looks like you just appeared in place.

I marvel at how astonishingly erotic you look, your pale skin contrasting with the rock behind you, sunlight from above reflecting off the snow for some form-enhancing under-lighting, your jet-black hair an enticing yet impenetrable opening into the void.

I readjust my levis and start snapping. You start posing again, twisting, pulling, leaning against the cords. You display yourself, your true self, in times like this.

GOD, you're beautiful.

I get back to you, my socks soaked inside my shoes and I whip your tits, belly, thighs with my tamarak bough. You flinch, your breasts jouncing heavily. You did not expect this to be part of this game and scream out, not in pain, but in angry frustration.

"Damn it! This is en- ahggg - This enough. I'm fuc- shit - It's freezing - grunck - Stop this..."

You continue - as I continue - until your cold, white flesh is marked with pink-framed red streaks and spots left by the needle-cloud of the tamarak switch.

Satisfied, I back out again, sweeping out the evidence and take a few quick shots while you jerk and writhe in your bounds. The camera reads that as pain, I know better.

Satisfied that I've got what I want, I plow back to you and release you from your enforced sprawl, you cussing the whole time.

I bend down to pick up your vest from the snow and I notice one of the fallen rocks presents an excellent table. I take you by the wrist and lead you to it through the snow. I press to bend you over to lay on it.

"No. No fucking way."

"Yes, just for a bit. I'll be quick."

"It too goddamnfuckin' cold!"

I push you to fold down over the rock.

You yield, submitting to my insistence and lay over onto the big stone, folded over at the hips, ass-high, your knees touching the top of the snow. I step back and quickly snap a few from this angle, emphasizing your ass, step around for some from the side. You are snugging your lashed tits and belly against the cool of the rock, wriggling in the dusting of snow not yet blown off the rock, comforting your well-lashed tits and belly.

The snow is a sharp white line between the grey-brown of the stone and your pale pink flesh.

"Reach up and grip the other side of the rock."

You do and that reveals the shadowed snow hugging the outward bulge of your tits. Cosmic.

"OK. Come on, I'm done. Let's go."

You jump up and run to the Jeep, grabbing your vest as you pass me, pounding through the deep snow.

Back at the Gladiator, I close the Sunrider, buckle in and start the engine. I crank up the heat and see you standing beside the passenger door, working back into the vest.

"Come on, get in. Close the door. It's getting warm in here."

You climb in, and start to zip up.

"No, don't do that. You'll warm up quicker if you leave it open."

You flash daggers at me with your eyes, then soften.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Yeah, I am."

I work the Jeep around until I can head back down the logging road and head for pavement. We are both silent as I move gingerly through the trees, using the track I'd plowed coming in as a reliable guide going out. Still, it is slow going.

Once we get to the road, I flip off diff-locks and head for the highway. It is warm now in the cabin. You lean down to zip up your long vest.

"No, leave it."

You look at me, see my lascivious smile and lay back in the seat, the vest covering your shoulders and open around your tits and down to where it drapes off the sides of your thighs, your shaved mound exposed. Your skin now back to it's usual healthy warm pink glow.

"Spread your legs."

I drive with my right hand curled over your pussy, fingers resting on your slit. The vibrations of the Jeep do all the work of keeping you leaking on my fingers.

We drive home along the highway, cleared of snow, with very little traffic. No one notices the nearly nude beauty riding with me, being fingered, but... well, sometimes you don't get what you desire. You can't always get what you want.

Home, we both set the place on fire with desire, not even making it out of the foyer before we're wrestling my clothes off and on the floor fucking.

8 March, International Woman's day, a week and a half before your birthday, you are sitting at your computer in your cubbyhole after returning from our errand run. You hurriedly go straight for one of your 'sites of interest', seeking the title you'd noted on your phone at the Post Office, 'Lease My Wife'.

You click the link to open and you see this announcement.

>>>>>>

"LEASE MY WIFE"

On March 18 an auction will be held, seeking the highest bid to lease my wife for a month.

Full use, at location of winner's choice.

No limits, other than no permanent marks or broken skin.

Adequate food and water must be provided for my wife during the lease.

Any violation of these rules will result in substantial penalties, rapidly and vigorously applied.

Contact at this link for information and instructions.

See photos

<<<<<<

You click to see the photos and are startled.

A raven-haired beauty stands before a rockface, standing in deep snow, wearing only knee-high riding boots and a blue down vest which she holds open displaying her gorgeous naked body.

A second photo shows the same woman at the rockface, bound to trees, stretched spreadeagled and covered with traceries of an extensive severe, but shallow, whipping.

And finally, the woman lying on a large rock, looking like she's fucking the snow-covered stone.

You call out to me and start searching to find an explanation.

But, you already know.

You realize that I am advertising and soliciting for help in fulfilling my Christmas promise to you.

Your special birthday surprise.

You had lept off your chair, angry, feeling betrayed, hunting me down, seeking an explanation.

Now, you just want to find me and grind your blossoming cunt onto my hard cock.

Guess you'll have to wait till I get home.