No Secrets

We've done a lot of things together, kinky things but not anything that's painful. Looking at the remains of my bite, a nibble really, on her butt presents an idea to me. We'd never discussed it. Her buns were just sitting there at the top edge of the couch, exposed in all their glory. So, I rub my palm against one of them, feeling her curves, the taught muscles within, the soft fuzz without. It's nothing like a massage, but an appreciation. And I spank her. Not soft. Not hard. A slap? Yeah. Testing the waters, so to speak. She gasps, followed by a little squeal. That's not an indication of unpleasantness by any means. It's quite the night of discovery. Okay, then.

I spank her again but on the other cheek, a more solid swat. My hand tingles with the impact. She makes a little cry, which is quite a different thing than an objection. I spank her again, and again. And again a few times; you get the idea. More squeals, a few cries, and towards the end, moans. She likes it. I work her to a shade of red that I thought would remain in her consciousness but wouldn't interfere with other things to come. I'm no expert, but we'll soon see.

While the demons on my shoulder are arguing how and when and where to fuck her, I take a few pictures. Because I can. Because her ass is a warm red and her cunt lips are dripping.

"More," she begs. More spanking or more fingers inside her? Or more "Anything" because she's annoyed that I wasn't playing with her while taking pictures?

There couldn't be a discussion, so I did both. She was pushing to meet my finger thrusts, using her arms to push against the couch. Who's using who here? I gave each cheek what I'd call a "Mighty slap" that echoed off our ceilings and caused her to stand vertical again. Ouchies, huh? I checked her face. Her mouth remained open in what seemed a persistent state of wanton desire. If there were any tears behind the blindfold, they wouldn't be the kind I'd feel guilty about.

"Please," she said, "Fuck me with your cock. I need cock." I really, really want to. But I want to user her how and when I want. My thought was "Go fuck yourself." It's not something I'd ever say to her, or even think. But here I was, thinking it. That said, there was nothing stopping me. Her. Anyway, she could fuck herself.

There was a little maneuvering to be done, so I made a game of it, I guess. I held out her right hand and slapped her right bun. I held out her left hand and slapped her left bun. I lifted them both to point forward and slapped both buns. Silly, I know.

I slapped both again and gave her a nudge. She got the idea and started moving. With not that many slaps, she was back in the foyer, her heels clicking on the hardwood flooring. It was now almost dark outside, and I couldn't help but wonder if Mr. Salesman had parked his car in the street to keep watch. Why would this guy seeing Hayley naked upend years of a prideful mindset of keeping her to myself? No time for that now.

I reached to the side table for the toy I had in mind, then pressed my hands on top of her shoulders pressing her down to a squat. I placed the chair to one side so she could grasp it with a hand for balance, then I placed a fat 10" dildo with a suction cup in her other hand.

She took a moment to realize what it was, then she placed it on the floor beneath her cunt and sank onto it. I quickly got another chair from the adjacent dining room and placed it beside her so she could balance herself with both hands. Don't mistake this as a chivalrous notion to protect the lady from falling over. This was about me. I didn't want her hunched over and obstructing my view.

It had a 1" suction base topped with a 10" dildo. I know the measurements because I bought it. It's thick through its length and broadens more in the last five inches. Though she never objected, she had made some funny eyes about it, and it had remained the toy that was never used. Well, to my knowledge. Until now.

It took her some time, not to get it in as wet as she was, but to explore its depth. She was tentative. And I understood. I'm a patient man, especially when I'm recording her. Again... because I could. Your honor, it was only by her written instruction that I used her in this way. Plausible.

It didn't take long for her to start enjoying her self-fuck. Just watching the muscles in her abdomen and thighs were worth the moment. But watching her cunt take the monster... that won out. When she filled herself, I could see the base and about an inch and a half of visible dildo. That's 8.5" to her apparent satisfaction.

Math is just something that happens in my brain. I don't know that I really needed to know that answer. I try not to be jealous of porn stars when we watch such, but damn. The math didn't lie. I don't measure up to what she was demonstrating she could take. Enjoyably take. Damn. And, she wasn't being quiet about it.

To see her in that state as she was pleasing herself... A beautiful face, a beautiful body, a beautiful pleasure. I took my own share of pleasure from it, sure, but not to the degree that she was. She was in another place. Hayley's moans, that sensuous set in her jaw and open mouth, her flushed breasts lest you forget... They're the siren's call on the rocks, drawing me closer.

I stripped. The pre-cum wasn't unexpected. I just might have been rubbing myself watching my wife put on a show for her anonymous partner. But it was time for a more direct pleasure.

I place my hands on her shoulders when she bottoms out, holding her there. I close in, pointed my rock-hard cock at her lips, grab her head, and introduce the two. Her lips parted readily. Oral sex can make a guy feel like the king of the world for a time, with a willing woman tending to his cock with her lips, tongue and mouth, her subservient eyes looking up to his. This wasn't quite that time due to the blindfold, but I'm not complaining.

I wrap my fingers in her hair, my hands wrap against the curvature of her skull, this woman I love. And, I hold it steady while I fuck her mouth. She can't take me all the way in, and I don't try to force that. But she did what she could to accommodate me. What she was doing with her tongue and teeth are on the periphery of my awareness as my orgasm approaches. And never mind that her hands had found my butt and were urging me on.

Sure, I'd like to have lasted longer, but, hey, I'd been gone a week. And then found her in this particularly exploitable state. Other circumstances, sure, I could last longer. Don't judge me. But, as things stood, I didn't want to. This was pretty raw. You ever fuck your wife's mouth before? I hadn't, not like this.

I came in her mouth, maybe in her throat. I could hear her struggle. The occasion deserved one last blast in her mouth as I withdrew and let go of her head. I stroked myself to completion, coming in her hair, on her blindfold and nose. She didn't swallow it all, but she tried. The rest dripped from her mouth and onto her breasts.

Granted, I didn't expect to come home and give her a facial, because we hadn't done that since we dated. But that doesn't mean I don't keep the idea in the back of mind when I try to avoid masturbating on a trip.

I press my cock against her lips, and she uses her tongue to clean me off. She's done that before, but she's definitely more into it now. I think its part of being used. And she's enjoying it. She's a vision and, well, well. King for a day!

And my day wasn't over. My cock wasn't going soft per the usual way of things, but it needed some time, still. She was a cum covered mess, and, you guessed it. I took a few pictures. She'd also stopped her motion on the dildo, and the caring part of me realized she was probably sore from squatting. It was time for something else, so I helped her up, took satisfaction in the pool of juices on and around the dildo and turned her to face the den.

I didn't take her there, though. You see something, you do something. Instead, I stop her at the dining room door frame, place her hands against it and bend her over a bit. And spread her legs. Her tits just hung there, like they do. I use a finger to gather some of my cum off of the left one and place it at her mouth. She licked it off, and actually panted a bit. It sounded a little forced, like she trying a more subtle way of saying "Fuck me."

I trail a finger from her neck down to the base of her spine. I step behind her and lightly press the tip of my cock against her cunt. She arches her back against me and whispers "Finally..."

She was hot and wet, and my cock was ready. But it still was not the time. I spank her instead. No reason for it. Maybe her cheeks weren't as red as they had been. Maybe I don't like her telling me what she wants. Maybe I'm taking the "Use her" thing seriously. It's all that. I squeeze them after each slap, too. And, I enjoy doing it, feeling no guilt because she moans after each slap. Maybe she understands that I'll make the decisions.

Spying the carpet in the den, I spank towards it... patting, really, at this point. Her cheeks are red. I guided her to the floor and had her lie on the carpet, which I could only imagine didn't help her with the heat coming off her butt. Her face tensed, so, yeah, she's sensitive. I quickly retrieve the restraints, rearrange our coffee table, and fasten her hands to the table legs.

Speaking of legs, I spread hers. Her thighs were wet with her juices, and her pussy was remained red, pouty and parted. I could call it her clean-shaven cunt. It's all about context. I don't eat cunt. I eat pussy.

I take my time getting to my feast. The appetizer comes first. Her inner thighs are very, very sensitive when we play. The appetizer comes first. I use my fingers and tongue beginning at her calf and work my way up both legs in stages. She whimpers as I make my way to that enticing fold between her legs.

About 3/4 of the way up, Hayley chose to speak again. "Please, I need you inside me." What the heck! She had to understand what I was getting to. I blow gently across her labia and hear her intake of breath. I bring my hands down the sides of her hips and insert them partly under her buns. Her face tenses again, and I imagine it hurts. But she still isn't complaining. Dinner is served.

It sets her off. Her legs fold across my back, pulling me closer to her most sensitive spots. She tastes sweet, a replenishing supply of fluid honey. Her "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" is ample evidence she is enjoying herself as I lick around and within her. But this is my show, and I feel like I have to remind her of that.

I remove my hands from underneath her and instead use them to press against her mons, in part to reduce her wriggling, and also so I can pull her skin back, exposing her clit for direct attention with my tongue. I resume my meal, and she does crazy things. Crazy things enough that I was glad we didn't have anything breakable on the coffee table or live in an apartment with thin walls. She was in that state of uninhibited response that probably every guy seeks... and I wasn't even fucking her yet. Moans, groans... there were a lot of primitive sounds coming from her that might have been the foundation of language itself.

She came, noisily, if you hadn't figured that out. She was entitled. And I knew that wouldn't be the end of her needs. Once again, I used my phone to capture her as the hiccups of body convulsions slowed. Beautiful. As always. In any state.

My head solved some math, and I texted her that the traffic seemed to be clearing and that I'd be home in about 45 minutes. That gave me about 25 minutes as I saw it, to further enjoy and, finally, fuck my wife.

Hayley has sexy feet. They're incredibly sensitive, and she cares for them. Not for moments like this, I knew, because we'd never had moments like the ones I was thinking about. Shame on me, really, but there wasn't a better time for it, with her splayed on the carpet, catching her breath.

I back up a bit, raise her foot to my mouth and kiss along the top of it. She responds with an "Oh... Fuuuuck." She said it in a way that I think had some to do with how it felt, certainly. But I think was the final persuasive point that she someone other than husband was doing it. Yeah, tough spot you put yourself in there, kiddo.

So I unfasten her heels, slipped her shoes from her feet and suck on her toes. They were soapy clean. I imagine that she sat in the tub imagining this moment, working on her resolve. She writhed, her mouth distorted in an "Oh!" of shock rather than an "Oh!" of climax. Alright, then. I'll give you more.

I lick the soles of her foot and eventually lick, caress or suck on every toe. It elicits a whole different type of response from her. I could tell the way she wriggled the feeling was intense. Eventually, it prompts an earnest, "Oh, fuck. Who are you?" I like that.

I raise her leg higher and lick from her ankle to her calf, making little bites along the way. Again, it's not like me. It's not like I've never played in less erogenous areas like her calf, but I'd never done it like that.

She was breathing very heavily, enough that I was surprised she could gather herself to speak.

"This was a surprise I intended for Steven, my husband. If you're holding back because I'm married, I want this. I want you to fuck me. And I want you to hurry, because he should have been back by now. Please." Oh, man. It was time. She probably expected to be fucked repeatedly, starting when I discovered her. Her body was shaking slightly, and she whimpered a barely audible, "It's okay to cum inside me. I want you to."

King for a day, indeed. I'm jealous of myself. And, at the same time, I'm bewildered by my wife who just said something that I never, ever would imagine her saying. I'm floored. I'm angry. I'm jealous. I'm caught short that I don't know or understand all her needs. I'm rock hard.

I look at her, her wrists red, her mouth open, dried cum still on her face and breasts, her cunt drenched, her body flushed to a consistent shade of "Hot as fuck."

My wife. I love her more each day, including this one. I very much want to cum inside her.

But not on the carpet. That would be cruel at this point. And I don't want to use a bed. Beds are for making love, and this wasn't that.

I unfasten the ties from the table legs, still leaving the restraints on her wrists, however. I help her stand, noticing that her rear looks inflamed, so enough of that. I direct her towards the sliding door to our back deck by holding her... neck. I had reached for her hand, but stopped in time. I'm someone else.

I stop her and reach ahead to open the sliding door. She stiffens at the sound, understandably. I check that her ear plugs are still in place. They are. It must have been the rumbling vibration and her sense of the room. "No, please," she begs. "The neighbors..."

Well, tough luck, chick. They're my neighbors too. They weren't in a line of sight to our deck, so what were they going to say? "Hey, I heard you had a great time last night!" They didn't know us that well. And besides, her mystery lover wouldn't care.

I gave a hard pat to both cheeks, and she didn't otherwise resist. When we reach the deck railing, I grab a seat cushion from a lounger and drape it over the edge. Then I bend her over it and loosely secured her restraints to the balusters.

It was twilight. The stars were coming out. It was in the upper 70's. There was a slight breeze. And I fucked her. I'll spare you the details.

Well, okay, I won't. I've never slipped inside her so easily. My cock could have fallen into her. She was beyond wet, of course, but the dildo she had used earlier had obviously stretched her. And the heat inside her... wow.

I'd recovered fully from my earlier orgasm, and it didn't take long find myself pleased that I had all the staying power I wanted. Sometimes it's a yes; usually it's a no. This was the perfect occasion for a yes, thank the god of dickdom.

Like I said, I fucked her. I reached for her hanging breasts, groping them, squeezing them hard. I tweaked her nipples in my carnal delight. And then I became the mystery guy, doing things that were different. I raked her back with my fingernails, like she does to me sometimes. I gathered her hair and pulled at it fairly hard as I thrust inside her. I placed my hands at her throat, exerting pressure but not to the point of choking her. I slapped her butt cheeks occasionally too, because I could. But I never stopped fucking her.

Hayley was incredible. She was strength itself the way she rocked her hips into each thrust. She was valiant in restraining her groans from nosy neighbors. Still, she couldn't help herself at times, and I could swear I could hear the echo from the trees of my balls slapping against her ass. I didn't care. The neighbors could gather around and watch for all I cared. My world was caught up in the sensation of her.

At some point, she worked her hands free of restraints, and she backed me up so she could grab the railings and present her cunt to me at an optimum angle. I took what was offered. I was beyond ready, though I didn't want it, all of it, to end. I shortly blew load after load into her depths. "Yes, yes, yesssss!" escaped her lips, and I could feel her contract with her own orgasm at the same time, a rarity for us.

We remained there, a short time really, catching our breaths until my cock finally slipped out. I wanted to embrace her, hold her close. I couldn't. It's time to move on. I grab her neck again with one hand and slap her butt with the other.

I direct her inside, leaving the door open. Why would I care? It isn't my house. And, my timer is winding down.

"What will you do to me now?" she asked. Then her tone changed to something more directing, "You should leave." Her nervousness was apparent, the fantasy fulfilled, the ecstasy reached. What remained, I can tell from her voice, was the uncertainty of who I was and the possibility of getting caught.

I walk her back to the foyer, and she doesn't resist. As we walk, I grab the Sharpie from a stack of papers on a corner table. Ideas just come, and they make me question my morality. What state should her husband find her in? Well, she'd have 15 to 20 minutes to figure that out for herself when I left.

"Let me know when you're leaving by squeezing my nipples, and I'll count to 100 slowly before I remove my blindfold," she said. "And..." There was a long pause. "Thank you."

Just because we're in the foyer doesn't mean I'm ready to leave, dear wife who thanks a stranger for using her. I mvoe behind her and write "Spank Me!" in giant letters on her butt cheeks, one word on each.

"Noooo," she pleaded, when she figured out what I was doing. I turn her around, backing her against the wall. I place a hand across her mouth, making a point that I don't want to hear her complain, and remove it. She didn't say anything. I write "Great tits!" on her left breasts and made a smiley face on the other, her nipple the nose.

And then, because I could... which I admit has gotten me in trouble over the years... I draw a long, curved arrow right down to her cunt and write between her hips, "BEST FUCK EVER! T.J." The initials were random. But there is truth in advertising.

Another idea took, and I fetch a pen. I hold her palm out and write a yahoo email address that I use for online sites that I suspect will spam me with ads, one that I'm pretty certain she knows nothing about. "What are you writing?" she asks. Hehe.

Then I put her back in her chair and refasten the restraints, loosely. She will have things to do and fast. I quickly get dressed, make sure I have everything and take a photo of her yet again. She looks gloriously used. I hadn't kissed her on the mouth and decided not to now. What would a stranger do that just ravaged her? I give her a wide, wet lick across her lips to the tip of her nose. It was the perfect capstone as it turned out. I could see her deflate, her posture folding in, whatever hopes that it might have been me dashed. She'd just been sexually used... by someone else.