Slut Wife
2003-08-23
Mark had fucked her two weeks after the wedding. It wasn't entirely planned although he had been mixing the drinks at the party all night, and had always given her just a little more vodka in hers until she was pretty out of it. Mark knew Gary well enough, and had fucked enough of his exes, to know that he was no demon in the sack. A few minutes of the missionary position and he was satisfied and fast asleep. From Yvonne's reactions to the orgasm he had given her in the back garden Mark guessed nothing much had changed - she had had to bite down on his neck to stop her screams being heard in the house. Gary was too wet and trusting to suspect a thing, even when she reappeared looking flustered and happy as a kid at Christmas. She had always been eager for more and he had given it to her although not too easily. He liked to let her aniticpation build, make her desperate for him before he came to see her. And she was always desperate, obsessed almost. He started pushing her boundaries, seeing how much degradation she would endure to have him, how low he could make her go through her own unsatisfied lusts. He had yet to find her limits. And so he watched his best mate's wife crawl up the hallway of the house which her husband was at work paying for, dressed in nothing but a spiked collar and a pair of incredibly hot thigh high latex boots. Her ass was a sight to behold, firm and tight and rounded, the tanned cheeks bobbing as she crawled. Her blond hair was tied up tightly in a ponytail and swished across her back with every movement. Her face was painted the way he liked it: slutty, crimson lips and heavy mascara. Her cheeks were red not from rouge but from the humiliation she felt and the thought of what else he might have planned for her.
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For the same reason, her exposed cunt was slick and wet. Mark placed a booted foot on one of her exquisite asscheeks and kicked her forwards. She just barely kept from sprawling across the hall carpet. "Move it bitch, I'm thirsty. " "Sorry sir," she said and began to crawl faster, into the kitchen where he made her nuzzle open the fridge door with her face and take out a bottle of beer in her mouth. It was ice cold, glistening with moisture. He told her to place it on the floor and squat over it. She did exactly as he commanded, unable to meet his eyes. "Fuck it," he ordered and she lowered herself onto it, squealing as the cold glass penetrated her. She held the bottle firmly on the ground, raising and lowering herself onto it with steady, rhythmic movements, graceful even in subjugation, muscles tensed, biting her lip, screwing her eyes shut.
He watched her for a few minutes, rubbing himself through his jeans. It was tempting to pull it out and start wanking, or even throw her to the floor and fuck her mercilessly but that would come in time. The build-up was just as much fun. Mark had played domination games with girlfriends before but had never met anyone who was willing to go as far as Yvonne, or enjoyed it as much. "That's enough.
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Open it and bring it here. " She did so, carrying it in her mouth again without having to be told. She was learning. But then, the belt was a good incentive not to fuck up. Mark took a long swig from the bottle as Yvonne crouched at his feet. "Good bitch. " He stroked her hair and she smiled. He went to the window and pulled the blind up - all the blinds were down, naturally, when he came around and as it was summer so the house didn't look too suspicious. "Oh, old Mr Laws is out in the garden again," he said conversationally. The old man was visible over the garden fence, pottering around. "Bet he'd love to see you dressed the way you are. It?d probably kill him though. All his nasty wank fantasies about his sexy young neighbour come true at once. Maybe we should find out, eh?" He sensed her stiffen with fear. "If he did survive I bet he'd love to have a shot though.
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Would you like that, having your old neighbour fucking you in the garden?" There was silence for a second and then: "If it would make you happy Sir. " She WAS learning. He laughed. "Whore. Maybe some other time, eh?" he said and closed the blind. The doorbell rang and she stiffened again. He went to peer out of the side window and saw a bored, middle-aged delivery man holding a parcel. Grabbing the dressing gown she had greeted him in from the lounge he went back to the kitchen.
"Put this on and answer it. " She looked utterly horrified. He could see the struggle in her eyes; this was a whole new development and a whole new risk but deep down it excited her too. And she knew she couldn't say no. Yvonne slipped the robe on and went to the door but he grabbed her on the way and loosened the belt, letting it slide open to reveal a long swathe of tanned skin between her breasts and the top of her flat belly. He hid in the loung doorway and watched. The delivery man nearly choked when the door in front of him opened.
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A gorgeous young blond, breasts almost on display stood before him. The gown did nothing to hide the kinky boots or the collar and Mark couldn't tell who was shaking more or the who was the most embarrassed as she signed for the parcel. The encounter, brief as it had been, had Mark hard as iron. As the door clicked shut he grabbed Yvonne by the hair and dragged her into the lounge, forcing her to her knees. He pressed her face into the crotch of his jeans and heard her moan as he rubbed her face back and forth over the rough denim. "You want this?" he asked. "Yes," she gasped. "You fucking want this, you little cockslut?" "Yes! Please!" "Take it out. " She fumbled at his buttons, yanking them open and then he felt the indescribable sensation of her warm hand wrapping round his shaft and pulling it out into the cool air. A split second later he groaned as her hot, slick mouth slipped over the head and began blowing him expertly, the way she had been taught. After a little while of letting her suck him Mark grabbed her hair even more tightly to hold her head in place and began bucking his hips, fucking her pretty face, shoving his cock deeper in than she wanted to take it. Wet sounds came from her throat as she tried not to gag. With every thrust her face pressed deeply into his pubic hair. Mark gazed down at his toy. Her hands gripped his thighs for support, her ass stuck out behind her, the PVC boots clung tightly to every curve of her legs.
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God, Gary didn't deserve a bitch this hot, the little wimp. He fucked her mouth relentlessly, harder, faster. He could feel the orgasm starting to build. "It's time. Do it," he gasped. This was an old game, one of the first he had come up with. A show of her submission, an example of his dominance over her and Gary. He released her hair and, gasping for breath, she grabbed her prized wedding photograph from the coffee table. Holding it under his cock she wanked him, firm and hard as he liked it. He roared as the orgasm exploded out of him, hot jets of cum splashing over the glass, oozing down the image of Gary smiling in a suit, Yvonne radiant in her white dress. Mark sat, legs shaking. Dominating the bitch gave him the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced. From the comfort of Gary's armchair he watched as Yvonne licked every drop of cum from the photograph. .
