The Directors

Methodically fucking his wife in the ass, Ted worked off his frustration at being trapped in this situation. Through the veil of his anger he knew that he was giving them exactly what they wanted. Yet he could think of no way to put an end to this blackmail. No way to keep them from unleashing their dead-man's bomb if he did try to go to the police. Occasionally, as his wife panted, groaned and urged him on, he would remember that at some point he'd have to explain the situation to her. And reveal that others were watching them, recording them, directing them. He did his best to push that thought away. Now, he just wanted to cum quickly. Because that would mark the end of this night's adventures. Wouldn't it?

Naturally, wanting to cum right away had the opposite effect. Why was it that when he wanted to last longer, he was unable to stop from cumming? And now that he didn't want to last longer, his body was unable to release?

"You're trying too hard," the voice in his ear commented. It was uncanny how they knew exactly what he was thinking. Was his body language that obvious? "Why don't you just jack off on her face?"

"Forget that." A new voice. A woman's voice! "You fuckers will get your money shot facial soon enough. It's time for us girls to have some fun. Well, some more fun. That's not to say we weren't having fun before."

Ted thought she sounded more educated than her rough talk inferred. She seemed articulate, and comfortable giving orders and having them carried out. Their boss, maybe?

He didn't have more time to speculate. The woman's orders were quick and specific. Put his wife on her back. Tie her by the wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed. Use the dildo, use her panties, use a feather pulled from the pillow to tease her skin, to tickle her nipples, to torment her with pleasure until she was writhing and moaning and begging for release. And then softly kiss his way down, from her chin across her breasts across her fluttering stomach across her patch, down to where her pussy lips cleaved her, to where the heat of the sun somehow emanated from the cleft of her.

At the woman's orders, though he barely needed any prompting, he tongued her, rasping across her lips and clit, delving deep into her wet valley, exploring every inch, every atom of her as if he'd never passed this way before and never would again.

She arched her back, desperate to press hard against him, desperate to have his tongue explore the recesses that his cock had owned not too much earlier. He obliged, cramming his tongue deep into her pussy, the walls spasming closed around him, his teeth digging trenches in her most sensitive parts. She cried out as his teeth met her clit, screamed as his tongue soothed that impact, sobbed as he withdrew for a moment, a microsecond, before launching his final incursion on her entrance.

Using the technique he'd developed after many years of practice on her body, he licked her clit directly, the way she liked it, pressing down hard on it, swiping his tongue's tip against it side to side to side, an unceasing assault on her most sensitive nub. She struggled against the bonds, her body insistent in the desire to add to the stimulation, to rub where he was licking. Her juices coated his face. He ignored her splayed open pussy lips to focus solely on her quivering clit, savaging it with all the power and friction he could put into a single square millimeter of skin. He shook his head back and forth, his tongue never leaving its target. Her body shook in response, holding her breath for longer and longer durations.

She came. No, she CAME! Great waves of pleasure visibly shook her, rocking her from side to side, her pulling on the ropes now less desperate and more methodical. She came and came, her legs twitching to encase his head, still settled atop her pussy, unable to hold the intruder still. He blew soft breaths onto her red and well-used clit, his attempt to cool it only driving her more mad with frustration. He dipped is tongue down, pressing the nub again and again. He knew if it felt the same to her as her tongue on his freshly spent cock, then it felt very intense indeed. And she was tied up. He could torment her like this forever...

"That's enough lover boy," the woman's voice sounded in his ear. "Lube yourself up and jack off all over her face, so the good little boys get their money shot," she instructed, the softness of her voice belied by the coarseness of her language.

He grabbed the baby oil from the table, covered his hardening cock with a liberal coating, then climbed atop his wife, straddling her breasts. The dazed look in her eyes told him that she wasn't long for this world; the brutal fucking and intense orgasm had drained her of all strength. Despite all that, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to receive his cum, his sperm, his ejaculate.

He didn't have to pump himself for long before a thick stream of steaming jizz squirted from his cock and splashed upon her face. Shot after shot followed, so much, so much, anointing her forehead, covering her nose, dripping into her mouth. Despite the oil still covering his shaft she took him in her mouth, sucking him to get every drop from the channels within him. As congealed as it was, it didn't take long to begin dripping down her face, along her jawline, onto her hair and the sheets below. He rolled off her, found a towel, and none too delicately wiped her face.

"Anything else?" he asked, softly, fearing the answer. "Anything else?" Only silence answered him. On the TV, the original porn movie had returned, featuring another impossibly long cock penetrating yet another impossibly welcoming cunt. He turned it off, no longer interested in such things. Untied his wife. Pulled up the covers. Turned her on her side so he could spoon with her. And fell into a deep sleep. Tomorrow could wait until tomorrow....