Work Meeting at a Naturist Pool

So-called «Leg clinging», but without her being able to hug my thigh, with her arms and hands.

How long did we stay in that position? I didn't fall asleep, but I was in a trance. It could have been five seconds or five minutes, I don't know.

Finally, my breathing became regular again. I had come and I was happy, but I wanted my wife to have an orgasm, and the deal was clear: we were talking about "handcuffed fucking."

Only I'm not an eighteen-year-old, nor am I a porn actor: maybe a few pills would have given me an erection but we had never bought any.

I leaned over to my wife to give her a kiss, thank her and caress her: "Thank you, my honeypot, you were amazing..."

She looked at me with a serene but also lustful smile: "the night is not over yet... Master..."

Hilda intervened. "Luigi, shut up, or there will be punishment. Uh, that's funny, usually, my lover says those words to me, this is the first time I've said them."She laughed girlishly. "Your slave didn't swallow it all: there are drops of cum on her chin and nipple."

I hurried to clean her chin with my tongue. Marina smiled at me but shook her head, "it will not be enough for you to clean me, to prevent Hilda from inflicting on a slave woman ... my deserved punishment ..."

Unconcerned, I immediately pounced on her nipple, to suck out every drop of cum. Marina moaned as I sucked her nipple, which was dark and erect. Two drops of semen had partially covered her SLAVE tag.

A vertical stain above the "S", and a large round drop above the "A".

Now it read "I LOVE" followed by the handcuff drawing. Maybe I thought silver doesn't tarnish... my heart decided not to clean the tag.

Hilda stood up limply, separating herself from the bed on which she had been masturbating the whole time as she encouraged us, and walking on her small slender feet she stood behind my wife's back.

Hilda looked at me nonchalantly and said: 'Luigi, you are always too kind to your slave: she confessed this to me in the bathroom.

To avoid your excessive benevolence, your slave recommended that I chastise her if she hesitated to dance, or if she spilled the champagne, or if she made other gestures that deserved punishment. We have a soft deerskin whip. We both know you won't dare whip your wife... so I'll do it for you. You just watch and relax... and drink the champagne, it will do you good."

Hilda helped Marina up, holding her by the shoulders. I feared I would see the pain in her eyes, or tiredness, instead, I saw only a flash of lust. Perhaps the two women had agreed on the punishment and I was there to learn? I wondered if they had also agreed on a safeword.

Hilda led Marina to the edge of the bed. Then she helped her to lie down gently, with a pillow behind her head, facing me. Our eyes looked at each other, as Hilda helped my wife grab an ankle with her hand sheathed in the manacle.

The right had succeeded easily. The left needed more attempts. Finally, the women succeeded.

Hilda keep moving with delicate, caring gestures, and her voice was as sweet as honey. The words were terrible, but the tone was melodious, and the contrast between form and content gave me the strangest emotions.

"Usually I am the slave, dear... and even today, I am not the dominatrix, your Master is Luigi. I am merely the executioner who imparts your punishment."

Slap! With the small hand, Hilda spanked my wife's pussy. She moaned with pleasure, not pain, and I saw the desire inside her eyes.

"Don't speak, don't say anything. You can scream, you can groan, you can moan all you want... the important thing is that you count the lashings. Are you ready?"

Marina nodded.

Hilda lifted the deerskin whip and hit the pussy. My wife counted and groaned, "One! Aaah..."

"Ouch! Seven!"

"Twenty!!!"

I looked at my wife's eyes, her nipple jumping, her pussy getting redder and redder. But she never asked for mercy, never asked to stop. It was Hilda who stopped. She leaned down to her ear and whispered, "You want to say the Safeword? I'll free you immediately...:"

Marina said, staring the eyes of the short tormentress, "I want...

... twenty more lashes... even harder!"

Hilda spread the wet labia of my cuffed wife with two fingers, leaving her clitoris exposed. Then she stepped back. I saw the chain linking her nipples dance through the air as she lifted her arm, then brought it down against the pussy.

"Aah! Aaah! ... One!"

The blows must have been very strong because the moans were shouted without dignity. Before, Marina groaned, and now she screamed.

She blushed on her cheeks and stared at me. The knuckles of her hands were pale from the effort of holding her ankles without releasing herself.

Thus she was exposing her pussy and clitoris to more whipping, not because of the straps but because of her will.

Her toes, visible through the thin laces of her heeled sandals, were wriggling and curled.

"Aaaaaah! Twenty!"

Hilda stopped suddenly. She was sweating and from her forehead, her hair was wet with drops of sweat. She too was blushing. She threw the deerskin whip away, then looked at me. A mischievous grin appeared on her lips.

"Now my showtime is over.

Now the aftercare phase will begin, but not me: I cannot comfort your beloved... I promised.

It's your turn, stud.

Make her feel you love her, make her feel she will be cuddled, and remember what her erotic fantasy was (not yours: hers).

I will... seek for a place to sit... and try to comfort my poor Purple Rabbit."

I lay down on the bed and kissed Marina on the mouth. She was panting, and her cheeks were flushed. I wanted to hug her, but she said "Master, YOUR pussy hurts me a little bit, now... maybe I can beg you to kiss the boo-boo to make it feel better?" she said, like a child who had scalded her finger with milk that was too hot.

I squatted on the floor, in front of her pussy: it was red but without noticeable bruises. Her clitoris protruded outwards without shame. I kissed her: she was hot. I tried to relieve the heat with the saliva of my tongue. I hesitated to suck her labia, but after the first tentative attempts, I took more courage and she began to groan again as before.

Meanwhile, Hilda had sat in my armchair and was masturbating with the rabbit vibrator. With one bare foot she pushed him in, obscenely.

But her presence didn't bother me. All my thoughts were focused on Marina. I wanted to make her come but I was afraid of hurting her.

I told her "free your ankles if you want, honey..."

She squeezed her hands even tighter. Hilda interrupted her dreams to hiss at me: "The magic words are "slave", "Master" and "obey me". If you have to say sweet sugarwords like "Honey", make sure you have a jar to smear over the pussy."

I was wrong, as always. I closed my eyes. Before me the image of the two chained nipples, Socorro's pregnant body, and Heidi's pink rosebud. My wife's eyes, her fingers struggling inside the straps, her curled toes...

My cock had become hard again.

I knew what my wife's fantasy was. Having sex in front of a stranger. But I also knew what mine was: to fuck her handcuffed.

I grabbed my cock with one hand. It was hard. I rubbed the head against her clitoris: Marina gasped, but didn't say "Stop" or "Not in front of Hilda!" She never said it.

She remained silent, moaning and groaning.

I pushed in only the tip. I knew it would drive her crazy. She began to moan louder. I could go on with that game for hours, teasing and denying her orgasm. And she knew that I knew. But instead, I pushed my cock inside her pussy, the whole length of the shaft.

Marina felt filled and groaned.

I withdrew my cock: she was as wet and slippery as a puddle of melted butter. "Master... I beg you..."

The cock went in again, two strokes, three strokes, then I withdrew it.

"What are you begging me for, slave?"

Marina gasped. Could it be that one word could arouse such strong emotions in her? It did.

"Fuck me Master... without respect... I beg you... fuck me in front of this masturbating girl..."

That was not the night for a tease. That was the night she deserved to cum. I began to fuck her without rhythm, without respect, without thought. She could not restrain me with her hands or incite me with her nails, she could only squeeze her thighs as tightly as possible and enjoy.

I don't know how many minutes I penetrated her, I had cum a short time before and so I resisted much longer than usual. Marina moaned, groaned, and at some point, her screams became closer and louder.

A long sequence of "fuck me harder, Master!" and "I shall be your slave forever!" and "screw me, don't stop I beg you" and "make me come, now, now!" mixed with moans, gasps, groans, and screams.

I felt the contractions of her body beneath me as her orgasm shook her all over: I couldn't see them but I knew the toes were curled at the highest level. After so many years I recognized my wife's orgasms: with or without handcuffs.

I continued to fuck her harder and harder, but she was now inert: after her orgasm, I cummed too, inside her pussy, and her pussy quivered as she was flooded by the hot spurt of cumshot. Then I collapsed at her side, almost unconscious.

Neither she nor I would have had the strength or patience to loosen the laced straps.

Luckily, Hilda still had enough energy: she stood up, stepped over my half-unconscious body (but I'm sure she bumped into my cock with her nipples chained), and unfastened five of the six buckles, freeing her right arm.

Marina's left wrist remained tied to the harness, but it was under our bodies and Hilda didn't want to wake us up: perhaps she thought that if it bothered us, we would untie it.

Hilda was about to fall asleep, but she saw that Marina was still wearing the heels. And being a fervent activist of barefoot philosophy, she decided to make an effort and undo the buckles.

With the last ounce of energy, I murmured to Hilda: "thank you for all the things you taught my wife in the bathroom, petite..."

Hilda looked at me questioningly and replied, "Are you crazy? I only borrowed her the shoes, the perfume, a toe ring, and my silver chain.

I insisted that she choose a Safeword, even though she never wanted to use it.

Every gesture Marina made... was her idea, from her heart.

You don't understand how much your wife loves you...

Marina is willing to endure anything, for your pleasure and happiness."

Then, shaking her head, Hilda went to sleep on the sofa in the other room.

I fell asleep holding Marina in my arms. She lay on her left side and exposed her nipple to my right hand. I fell asleep like a baby, my hand cupped over her tit.

Last Chapter - 10: The Morning After. The Naked Truth. (near at the end).

The next morning, Marina and Luigi were still asleep in the double bed Hilda had lent them. The young woman with the nipple chain had slept on the sofa in the living room.

I was asleep, and these things were told to me later. Many times, and with much laughter.

Marina was woken up not by the (very quiet) door, but by a female voice yelling "Hello, VB, I arrived early!"

Marina immediately recognized a voice she had known for years, from countless phone calls and video conference meetings. She opened her eyes wide: she saw her husband's serene face, still sleeping.

Could it be that she had dreamt it all?

From the other room Marina heard that voice again, softly: "Valkyrie-Brunhilde... my precious, why are you sleeping on the couch? Who is in our bed?"

Marina stood petrified.

Only now did she realize that the banal «Hilda» was a nickname for Valkyrie Brunhilde!

There was only one family in the world that dared to name their daughters with such Wagnerian names, and that was the dynasty of the Chemical Company's founder!

Crap! Both she and her husband (me) had had sex in front of the chained nipples of the CEO of the entire company, the only Heir to the Dynasty's Assets: that brat full of leadership and orders!

And now her Lebensgefährten, her life partner, caught us in her bed: no a bearded grumpy old man, but my wife's boss, Claudia!

Among all these surprises, Marina was completely unaware that Claudia was a lesbian! It may not have been a secret in Hamburg, but she certainly had never known it before!

All the elements matched.

That's whose shoes Marina had worn to dance naked: they couldn't have been the size of Hilda's tiny feet, they were Claudia's shoes!

The lift had taken so long, because we were on the fifth floor, in the presidential suite.

The ceilings were over four meters high, the curtains on the windows elegant, the sheets of silk, the bottle of champagne.

Marina suddenly realized that she had slept in the bed of the boss of bosses, Valkyrie-Brunhilde!

Or rather, she had not slept: she had been fucked in handcuffs after dances, and she enjoyed it like no other day in her life!

She could still feel the orgasm in her bones and smell the cum.

Marina was naked like her husband, and cum stains marked the silk sheets. Marina looked up.

Above her, standing wide-legged, already naked as required by the party dress code, stood her boss: one of the most brilliant chemists of our century.

Claudia von Middenstorm und Taxis.

"Hi, Claudia...:" said shyly the voice of a still too sleepy Marina to formulate a more articulate sentence.

"Hello, Marina, dear friend..." Claudia's lips smiled: both those on her face, and the others ones, clearly visible from the bed. "... It is a pleasure to see you - in my bed. I guess it was a pleasure for you too, yesterday. And this kind and flaccid Sleeping Beauty, here... If I'm not being too personal..."

"My husband Luigi, he's asleep now, but, please Claudia, I swear, yesterday nobody touched Hilda..."

"Stop, I know, I know... my Valkyrie-Brunhilde likes to masturbate while watching other people, but she never has group sex if I'm not present...

she always says she doesn't feel safe without me..." she smirked.

Then Claudia turned to her beloved and said: "VB! Be a lamb, ring Reception, and order a delicious breakfast in bed for four...

and make sure Heidi brings it, that psychologist is the most devilish prankster I've ever met!"

Then Claudia looked at my wife's left wrist, where the thinner leather strap remained attached (how Mary had managed to sleep without noticing? Mystery). The hand was slightly more purple than normal but had not woken my wife.

"I see VB was generous in borrowing my new toys...

I think I'll gift it to you, Marina, consider it a small advance on the prize you've already deserved for next New Year's Eve with your chemical patents. I knew you were clever, but I didn't know you were a BDSM person.

This confirms the proverb: «brilliant minds think alike.»

I had no idea you were so kinky... but it is indeed true that we never know enough about other people's secrets."

Claudia conceded my wife a mischievous grin, then she summoned the Company CEO with an imperative voice.

"VB! No more chatting with Reception, my love... come here and tell me everything.

I want to hear the events from all of you... sincerely... I want the Naked Truth."

THE END.

*** My contribution to the Nude Day Story Contest 2022. Remember to vote, even not this tale but the one you liked best.

All the events narrated are pure imagination, except for some details that happened to a friend of mine.

This tale is ended, but perhaps Marina and Luigi's adventures could continue: perhaps each of them still has some secret fantasy they would like to confess to the loved one, and start experimenting on the naturist weekend, on their own, or with co-workers.

Any constructive comments will be welcome.

Unfortunately, English is not my mother tongue and there may be some lexical or grammatical errors. Please enjoy the idea more than the grammar. ***