But she wasn't finished and she knew it. She felt his expert hands running aver her ass cheeks, softly, caressing.
"Now that's a good little girl," she heard him say through the haze of her slowly dying come. "I think we can give you a little reward for all that." A jet of soothing lotion shot over the burning globes of her ass.
Softly, he spread the lotion over her ass. The cool liquid spread over the red ass flesh and Sylvia murmured contentedly as he slowly spread it and worked it in, giving her a wonderful slow massage, kneading the ass flesh until it relaxed and Sylvia lay there contentedly.
Then his fingers took the lotion to the puckered entrance of her ass, and the very touch sent Sylvia into a new moan of arousal.
"I told you to stop sucking my cock, and you refused to. I counted to ten, didn't I?"
Sylvia mowed and her ass thrust up at his hands again and fucked her asshole onto his creamed fingers.
"Oh, yes, sir – oh, yes!" Sylvia screamed, as his fingers scissored inside her ass.
"Then I'll have to give you ten strokes of the whip before fucking this little ass of yours, won't I?"
"Oh yes, yes sir, whatever you think, whatever you want," she moaned.
She felt his fingers pull out of her ass. Again that very action triggered her body and pinpricks of orgasm ran from her cunt and asshole around the rest of her body.
"One," said Patrick, and he whipped her ass. Sylvia yelled and heaved on the bed.
"Two. Three. Four. Five."
"Aaaaggghhh! You fucking bastard!"
"Six. Seven. Eight."
"You fucking sonofabitch. I hate you!"
"Nine. One more."
"Fuck you. I hate you. You dirty fucking bastard. Fuck off!"
"Ten!"
And Patrick threw the whip onto the floor and advanced on his wife's bound figure over the bed. He squirted a handful of lotion over his hands and ran it over the stiff pole of his cock. Brutally, he fucked his fingers into her asshole again.
Suddenly he fucked his cock up her ass and Sylvia screamed as his balls slapped against her clit. She wept, her head in the soft comforter, her asshole widened by the hard prick fucked deep into it. He pulled his cock almost out and she moaned and begged incoherently with all the movements he made.
Impaled on his cock, helplessly bound to the bed, Sylvia went into her final and hardest come of the night. His cockmeat deep in her ass guts sent her into utter ecstasy. She fucked her ass on his cock, and he held it there, letting her move as she wanted, her ass muscles sucking and pulling at his prick.
"Oooooogghh shiiittttt!" she yelled, the orgasms exploding through her body, her wrists and ankles pulling at the leather thongs. Her ass became a blur as she fucked herself on his cock, giving herself every last ounce of the satisfaction she wanted. "Oooooo fuck, ohhhh shit!"
She felt his cock heave again and suddenly the cum splattered deep in her ass guts and his hips went wild, thrusting her body harder and harder onto the bed as the cum shot out of his cock and was rubbed into the walls of her ass with each fuck-thrust of his prick.
Her orgasm peaked and went over the top. As his stiff cock lifted her off the bed and held her there while he shot the last of his cum into her ass, she moaned and relaxed, letting him shoot until his prick grew soft and slid out of her ass.
He slowly walked around, his cummy cock twitching slowly down, and made her clean the last of his cum off it with her tongue. Then he released the thongs and she murmured and rolled into a satiated heap on the bed. Very gently, he undressed her, slipping each article of clothing off and then covering her with the sheets and comforter.
"It's going to be one hell of a weekend with Cindy and Hank," he said, kissing her face softly.
"Mmmmmmnnnnn," she murmured. "I'll have to go into training for that. Promise you'll help?"
He chuckled, kissed her again, and she fell asleep.
CHAPTER THREE
John Akins got home to a very different reception. He put the car into the garage and went upstairs. Sally, his wife, was in their bedroom. She was a tall, statuesque, beautiful blonde, her long hair falling well below her shoulders, wide-set eyes and a full, sensuous mouth. She wore a silken gown and was lying back on the bed, watching television.
"Hello, darling," she said. "Did you have a good evening?"
"Yes," said John thickly.
He had drunk too much, as usual. It was the only way he could face his bitch of a wife. He looked at her dully and started to walk toward the bathroom.
"Oh, darling, do you like what I got today?" asked Sally brightly, hopping off the bed. "I think it looks wonderful."
She opened the robe and let it fall to the floor. Beneath, she wore only a nylon playsuit in blue and black. The transparent blue fabric covered her from her magnificent tits to about six inches above her pussy. There the black nylon strings took over, holding the playsuit between her legs, but open, so that the blonde hair of her cunt taunted him. Black ruffles ran around her tits, but covered nothing. Black straps held the suit in place around her neck.
"Do you like it?" Sally asked, swaying her hips and slowly opening her legs.
"Yes," said John, and he turned to try and get to the bathroom again.
"Don't you think it fits nicely over my breasts?" Sally said, coming forward, her fingers on her nipples, playing with them as she closed in on him.
"Yes," he said, and he tried to escape again.
John's head was swimming. However many times Sally played this game with him, he always fell for it. Perhaps this time she would give in and let him fuck her. He stood helplessly as Sally came up to him.
"Just look at the way it fits me," she whispered, close to him, almost touching. "It makes me look so good, doesn't it?"
"Yes!" John almost shouted, but he didn't surrender quite yet.
"Oh good, I was hoping you'd like it," Sally whispered sensuously, and she slowly turned away.
John grabbed for his wife, swung her around to him, planted a desperate kiss on the soft red lips that teased him so unmercifully.
"John!" Sally yelled as if utterly surprised by his behavior. "What do you think you're doing?" She stood in front of him, looking utterly outraged. "That's all you want, isn't it? Sex, sex, sex, that's all that's on that nasty little mind of yours. Well, there are other things in life you know, other things that you wouldn't know about because you're such a beast. I'm just disgusted with you."
Throughout her whole tirade, John stood silently, his head lowered, his hands compulsively opening and closing into fists again. His rage burned so hot he didn't know if he could hold it in. Again and again, in his mind, he repeated his father's words to him: "Never raise your hand to a woman, bay, never whatever the provocation. Never, do you hear me?"
So he waited until Sally went back to bed, put her robe on and went back to watching the television. Then he went into the bathroom.
When he was gone, Sally laughed to herself and ran her fingers down into her soft little cunt. John was such a wimp, she could do whatever she liked to him. Before long she'd have him begging for every favor, licking her feet for a glimpse of her pussy. She rolled and spread her long shapely legs, allowing her fingers to run over the swollen bud of her clit inflamed from the teasing she had given John. Slowly, she rolled her clit, enjoying the soft rising of her passion.
Soon she'd have John just where she wanted him, make him watch as she finger-fucked herself, then make him jerk herself off while she sneered at him. She would stand over him while his jism shot out of his nasty cock and he groaned helplessly, reaching for her, but never allowed to touch her. Yes, make him jerk himself off, as he was doing in the bathroom now in a frenzy of frustration… yes, make him jack off in front of the mirror, watch his own humiliation as she stood behind him, showing him her body, but never, never letting him get his rough hands on her soft tits or her tight little pussy. The thought thrilled her, sending her higher, working up to a long slow climax.