Mr and Mrs Smith (Complete)

In the lift, he grabbed me roughly and kissed me, hard and passionately. One of his hands cupped a breast, the other slid up my thigh, over my stocking tops and pressed against my panties.

"Fuck! You weren't joking, Julie. You're soaking!"

I pressed my hand against the front of his trousers. "My God, sir, and you're so hard."

"Well, I think we both know what to do about that, don't we, Julie?"

We almost fell out of the lift, and stumbled along the corridor to our room, groping and kissing as we went. The Boss already had the key in his hand and opened the door quickly. As we went in, I unfastened the wrap-over tie on my dress, slipped it off and threw it onto a chair. He'd removed his jacket and tossed it on top of my dress. Then I dropped to my knees in front of him, unzipped him and pulled his cock out. In one smooth movement I slid my mouth over its tip, now sticky with pre-cum. He moaned loudly, immediately placing his hands on my head and pushing deeper.

As I said, the Boss's cock was bigger than Kevin's, so I struggled to take more than a couple of inches and keep my teeth covered and my tongue in play, but I wanted to make this a memorable blowjob for my Boss. I couldn't keep it up for very long, but he was clearly enjoying fucking my mouth, judging by the noises he was making. I was so turned on, and I needed some attention to my pussy, urgently, so I dropped one hand between my legs, slipped a finger inside my now-soaked panties and started rubbing my clit.

I didn't want to come this way, and it seemed the Boss sensed this because he pulled out of my mouth and tugged my hair back so that I was looking up at him.

"Ready to be fucked, Julie? Fucked hard?"

"Oh God, yes sir!" I replied.

He pulled me roughly to my feet, bent me over the dressing table, pushed my legs apart, and then snapped the tiny string waistband of my panties. Without a word, he lined up his cock at the entrance to my vagina and pushed. Feeling that thick cock sliding inside me like that, looking back in the dressing-table mirror at my Boss, still mostly dressed, face consumed by lust, fucking me, made me hornier than ever. He wasn't gentle, but somehow, I didn't want gentle - I wanted it hard and powerful and dirty. Maybe it was the booze, or the strange events of the day, or the sexy underwear, or the long tease over dinner, but I just felt I needed, more than anything, to be fucked like a slut.

I started rubbing my clit again as his strokes got longer, deeper, fiercer. When he saw what I was doing, he pulled my hand away and put it back on the surface of the dressing table.

"I need to come, Boss. Please. Let me..."

"You'll come when I'm ready to make you. And you won't be able to stop yourself."

While he was still thrusting deep and powerfully inside me, I watched in the mirror as he removed his tie. He reached forward, grabbed my arms and pulled them behind me, winding the tie around my wrists. I was bent further forward, my nipples, pushed up by the sheer bra, rubbing on the surface of the dressing table. It felt weird but pleasurable. And that big cock, now pounding into me. It was so sexy, so dirty, so delicious - but I knew I'd struggle to come like this.

"How does that feel, Julie?" he asked, looking down at me with a face filled with lust.

"Oh God, sir. It's - it's so - so - ohmygod - so strong. So deep. Oh - oh..."

I couldn't believe how wet I was. I could feel the cool dampness on the tops of my spread thighs. I could feel the tingling as my nipples, now hard and swollen, rubbed on the smooth surface of the dressing table. And I could certainly feel the Boss's thick, long cock thrusting deep inside me."

"Fuck, Julie, you have the tightest, silkiest cunt." The word, in his deep Yorkshire accent, sounded almost brutal. "I just love the way it grips my cock while I'm fucking you. Fucking you hard. Right up that deliciously tight little fuck-hole. I love the way you know how and when to be a filthy slut; how to use your dirty mouth and your juicy cunt to get what you need. And I think what you need is a good, hard fucking. Am I right, Julie?"

I should have felt degraded, appalled at the obscene language he was using, disgusted by the apparent abuse he was aiming at me, terrified by the way he'd rendered me helpless and the fierce, almost brutal way he was using my body. But, instead, I felt like my body was on fire. I'd never behaved like this with anyone before, let alone my husband.

"Ye - yes, Boss. Oh - oh yes, sir. I'm - I'm a slut, sir. Use my - use my cunt, sir. But please - please make me come!"

Then I felt his hand move under me, onto my pussy, and a thick finger press on my clit. His thrusts were now so hard I was being shoved against the dressing table, but I didn't mind. After barely half a minute of his expert clit-stroking, I started to come. And I kept on coming, for ages and ages, moaning loudly, feeling my legs shaking and my whole body turn to jelly.

Then he let out a loud moan, and in among all the ripples and jolts of my own orgasm, I felt him pulsing, deep inside me. It was glorious.

When he pulled out, I was still trembling and panting. It had been perhaps the most powerful and frantic fuck of my life, and it took me a few moments to catch my breath.

When I finally stood up straight and looked at the Boss, he'd already removed his shirt and was sliding out of his trousers and pants. "Julie, that was an incredible fuck. But I'm so horny I want to go again in a few minutes. Come here."

By now, he was naked, his semi-hard cock still glistening with our combined juices, a thin trickle of cum dribbling off the end. On an impulse, I squatted down, my hands still tied behind my back, and licked and sucked him clean.

"My God, Julie. If I'd known how much of a slut you could be, I'd have found a way to fuck you sooner."

I stood up and smiled at him. He moved in close and kissed me.

"Untie me now, Boss. Then we'll see what we can do next. There's a bottle of champagne in the mini-bar. Maybe we should open it."

"Maybe later. First, I have other plans," he said, inscrutably.

He steered me towards the bed and sat me down. Then, reaching behind me, he untied my wrists.

"Lie back. Spread your legs."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for any more yet, sir," I replied, but he lifted me back onto the bed and stretched out my right arm toward the corner. I was surprised to find that he'd already rigged some sort of bond around the bedpost while I was in the bar, using cord he must have got from work and one of the selection of ties he'd brought with him. He immediately fastened the free end around my wrist.

"Boss, I..." I began.

"Shh, Julie. Just let me do this, and then I'll explain," he interrupted, taking my left wrist and tying that to the other post.

"Sir, there's no need to tie me up. I won't struggle," I smiled back at him.

"What if I want you to struggle?" he grinned back, lasciviously. He took hold of my right ankle, pulled me rather sharply down the bed until both my arms were stretched out over my head, and fastened my leg with yet another tie. I was beginning to get alarmed. He'd obviously planned this, but what did he intend to do to me?

I let him fasten my left ankle to the fourth post, leaving me stretched out and spread-eagled on the bed. Then he moved to the side, lifted my bum off the bed and slid a pillow and a towel underneath. Finally, he stood up to admire his handiwork.

"Julie, you look so fucking horny like that. My God, just look at my cock. See what you're doing to me, you dirty slut. I was going to blindfold you, but I think you need to see what's coming to you."

I realised that he was fully hard again, even though it couldn't have been ten minutes since he'd come, deep inside me. His semen was still trickling out of me, onto the towel. I wasn't sure whether I felt excited or terrified to be tied up, helpless and completely exposed, my pussy forced open, and to be called a dirty slut. Normally I'd have screamed or sworn back, but now...

Without another word, he moved between my legs. But if I'd been expecting some more hard, deep thrusts of that cock, I was mistaken. Instead, his hot mouth descended on my open pussy, and I screamed with the intensity of the sensations. He didn't seem to mind that he was lapping up a lot of his own cum, but his tongue went straight into my vagina, and then swirled everywhere - around my outer and sensitive inner lips, across my upper thighs. And then down to my bum-hole.

No-one had ever licked me there and at first, the shock and the new sensations felt like tickling. But as his tongue probed deeper, it started to feel deliciously erotic. He pushed a finger into my vagina and swirled it around. Then his tongue was back in my slit, his lips chewing on my pussy lips as he ploughed my wet valley with his mouth. And his finger came out of my vagina - and went up my bum. I shrieked.

But immediately his mouth was over and around my clit, and his finger was sliding in and out of my bum, and I shrieked a lot more. I tried to twist and move my hips - the sensations were almost too strong - but my bound wrists and ankles meant I was going nowhere, except deeper into sexual torment.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any more intense, he reached up with his free hand, placed it over my breast and squeezed, quite hard. He let his fingers slide up onto the nipple and pinched it. And shoved his finger as deep into my bum as it would go. And closed his lips around my clit, strumming the tip with his tongue.

And I came. If I thought that my climax just minutes earlier had been strong, this one was seismic. I have no idea what I said, screamed or moaned. My movements were tightly constrained by the ties, and I had no option but to endure this extreme sexual torment he was subjecting me to. The room was spinning, and it was like someone had plugged me into the mains. I was jerking around uncontrollably. I think I may have passed out for a few moments.

When I looked up, the Boss was kneeling between my legs, his cock hard, upright and pulsing.

"Right, slut. You've had your fun. Time to get fucked."

"Yes sir. Whatever you say, sir."

"And I think it's time I stuck this up that tight little arse of yours."

My guts gave a lurch. "Oh, please no, sir. No, I'm much too tight. It won't fit."

"I think I can make it fit. All we need is to get some of those slippery cunt juices in there first."

"No! No, please, sir! I can't. I really can't. Not - not there!" I'd read about anal sex. It didn't sound like much fun for the girl. Even someone of Kevin's more-modest size was likely to hurt me. The Boss's cock would tear me apart.

"Really? Then where?"

"In my - in my - my cunt, sir. It's soaking wet and ready. It wants you. Why don't you fuck it - fuck me?"

"So you want me to fuck your juicy little cunt, do you, slut?"

"Yes sir. Please." I guess I was trembling again, this time in fear.

"So not up your tight little arsehole"

"No sir. Not - not there. Please"

He lowered himself over me, and started sliding the head of his cock up and down my slit. Despite having come so strongly only a few minutes earlier, and despite the fear that he might actually carry out his threat, I was feeling the thrill of intimate contact with my most sensitive places.

He guided his cock down and around the entrance to my vagina, and gave a few slow, lazy, shallow thrusts. "Here?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes please, sir," I gasped.

He pulled back a little, slid his cock further down and pressed it against my tight sphincter. I could feel it being forced open. It hurt.

"Not here? Sure?"

"Oh God, sir! Please, please no!"

"So you don't want me to fuck your arse?"

"No sir, please - please don't - don't fuck my arse. I'm begging you."

"Begging, eh?"

"Ye - yes sir."

"So what should I do instead?" He pushed a little harder against my sphincter. It hurt a little more.

"Please sir, please - please fuck my cunt. Please fuck me - fuck me, right up my slutty wet cunt, sir. Please!"

"That's a good little slut," he smiled down at me.

The head of his cock moved back to the entrance to my vagina, and edged slowly in, maybe an inch. And then back out again. And in an inch. And back. He slid it up and down my slit, grazing my clit and making me squeal. Then he returned to teasing my entrance; tiny, shallow strokes, barely in, then out again. And then another pass over my clit. And then he repeated the action all over again. I was almost growling in frustration.

"Isn't this what you wanted, slut?" he asked, looking me straight in the eyes, a sardonic smile on his face.

By now, I understood his game. When he next dipped inside my wide-open and drooling vagina, I hollowed my back as much as I could, pushing my pelvis up to meet him. Still he managed to give me just an inch or two.

"Sir, please - please fuck me. Fuck my cunt. Fuck it deep, fuck it hard. I can take it all. But please, fuck me. Please, fuck me now! Fuck meeeAAAAH!"

The thrust took my breath away. Suddenly I had his entire length, driven by his powerful muscles, plunging into me. I shrieked again. And again, as he pounded me mercilessly. I can't say it was entirely painless, but it was thrilling to be so helpless and so used by my Boss. As he'd done before, he pinched a nipple with one hand, while the other descended to rub my clit. This time it took longer, probably because I'd already come, but after only a minute or two, I knew I was going to come again.

But then he took his thumb off my clit, and did the trick he'd demonstrated two nights earlier, somehow lifting his body and changing the angle of thrust so that his cock skimmed my clit on virtually every other stroke. That delayed my imminent orgasm, but within another couple more minutes, I was again writhing in my bonds as he expertly fucked me to my third climax of the night. And then, much to my surprise, he continued fucking me the same way until I came again. I think I was screaming something along the lines of "FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER! FUCK MY CUNT! FUCK MY CUNT!" just as he finally lost all control.

Chapter 7. The Shock of the New

The drive home on Saturday morning was a little strange, to say the least. Our relationship had changed dramatically over the past three days, but neither of us seemed clear on what to say to each other about it.

The Boss had already showered and was dressing when I woke. I was vaguely aware of having slept in his arms, but after four orgasms, I'd overdosed on endorphins and was asleep until he woke me.

"Julie, we need to leave in about an hour. I'll be heading downstairs in a moment. Get yourself together and packed. I need to make a couple of calls, and I'll see you at breakfast."

Calls? On a Saturday morning? Oh well, I thought, as I dragged myself out of bed. I was sticky all around my pussy and my upper thighs. God, how much fluid had we both produced the night before?

We set off around nine and stopped for coffee after a couple of hours. We'd barely spoken on the first leg of the journey, and the Boss finally raised the topic I was desperate to talk about as we sat in the motorway service station, drinking over-priced Americanos.

"Look, Julie. We both know what's happened to us has changed some things, but we agreed it mustn't affect our relationships with our partners. And it mustn't. It was an insane and joyously sexual interlude, and we both enjoyed it a lot. At least, I did, and when I untied you last night, you'd passed out. I've never had a woman who's orgasmed that strongly before. My God, you were unbelievably hot and sexy, and you gave me some of the best sex of my life, for which I'll always be grateful. But this has to stop here. We can't destroy our marriages - and our lives - because of something that was just a joyous accident."

"I - I guess you're right. But - I don't know, it all seems so weird. Last night I was screaming obscenities at you, begging to be..." I looked around and lowered my voice; "Begging to be fucked hard, and loving every delirious, slutty, dirty second. It's going to be difficult to go back to bringing you coffees and taking meeting minutes without remembering the feeling - the feeling of your cock in my cunt."

I stared at the dregs in my coffee cup. I was surprised that now, in the light of day and what passed for normal life, I could still think and speak as I had during our insane fuck-fest of the last three nights. The Boss was, of course, right - he always was. But a part of me - most specifically the part between my legs - wanted more. The sex I'd had with Kevin was good, wholesome and enjoyable. The sex I'd had with the Boss was illicit, filthy and orgasmic beyond anything I'd ever known. I respected the Boss as a passionate, brilliant, sincere human being - and an amazing fuck. But I loved my husband. How was I ever going to reconcile this?

"Could we - could we, just occasionally..."

"No, Julie, we can't. This has to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for us both. If we can't make it that, the impact on the lives we've both built up over many years will be devastating. If we once let what we had over the last few days resurface, it'll drown us both."

At about three-thirty, the Boss stopped the car just around the corner from my house, unfastened his seat belt and leaned across. He kissed me, hungrily as he had during our mad, illicit affair.

"Thank you, Julie. Thank you for everything; for your support during the meetings, for managing the subterfuge we needed to bring down McIlwaine and his crew, and especially for giving me the best sex I've ever had. You've been amazing. But on Monday, you'll be my highly-efficient personal assistant and I'll be your demanding Boss again, and nothing that happened on the last three nights will ever get mentioned again. I'm sad about that, but I'm sure you realise it has to be that way. Do you agree?"

"Yes, Boss," was all I could say.

He smiled, refastened his seat belt and we drove around to my house and unloaded my suitcase. Kevin came to the door, and after a kiss and a hug, I introduced him to the Boss. They shook hands. And then, with a wave and another 'thanks again', the Boss drove off and I was left alone with my husband.

"I guess you'll need a cuppa after that journey," he said as he carried my case into the house.

Once inside, we kissed and hugged again, for longer.

"I've missed you so much, baby," he breathed in my ear. "Should I take you upstairs now and do some naughty things to you?"

"Oh, Kevin, I'm knackered. It's been a long journey and a very intense week. Let me just unwind a bit, have a shower and maybe a little nap first. What's for dinner?"

"I was planning something nice."

"Hopefully not pasta Bolognese?"

He looked a bit crestfallen. "No, actually. I've got some salmon and a nice white wine. I thought we could have a little candlelit supper."

I kissed him. "It sounds lovely. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to head upstairs to shower and unpack. I might have a little lie down. Would it be OK if you just called me when dinner's ready?"

I unpacked my clothes, hung up the sexy wrap-over dress and then looked at the underwear. The bra looked fine, I had two remaining pairs of unused thong panties and a spare pair of stockings. There were a couple of slight stains on the suspender belt, so I quickly washed it with shampoo in the basin and towel-dried it. Then I went to bed for a couple of hours, but I could only sleep fitfully, remembering my recent adventures. I kept fingering my pussy, thinking about the amazing sensations that three nights of abandoned fucking had given me.

On the drive home, I'd been thinking about my sex life. With Kevin, it had been pleasant but unexciting, and I'd decided that if my Boss refused to fuck my brains out ever again, Kevin would have to take up the task.