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He got my belt open easily. My jeans were so baggy he didn’t even need to unbutton them to get his hand down them and into my panties. I moaned softly as I felt one finger between my lips. He found my clit and caressed it roughly, his finger drawing circles. Jamie lifted my shirt and popped my tits out of my bra. She dug her fingernails into my nipples and smiled as I squirmed.
“Now,” she said. “Where are those nipple clamps you talked about?”
The nipple clamps, like the dog collar and the leash and the ball gag and the leather restraints and the knife and the candles and the lighter and the clothespins, were in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. The three silicone dildos and the lube and the two plug-in vibrators and the three battery vibrators were all in the top drawer of my nightstand. In fact, there wasn’t much in my nightstand except sex and bondage toys. I had the sex toys on top because for some reason it seemed like it would be slightly less humiliating if anyone ever stumbled across them. The logic doesn’t really hold up, but I guess whim had become tradition.
Jamie went through my gear while Andre kissed me and played with my tits. He was an even better kisser than Jamie.
“Where’s that rope you bragged about?”
“I wasn’t bragging,” I whined, a little flirtatiously, half of me not wanting her to think I was pretentious, half of me hoping she’d think I was—and take it out on me. “It’s in the credenza over by the window.”
She found it while Andre pulled my T-shirt over my head and unclasped my bra. He pulled my jeans down to my knees and then pushed me down onto the bed. I propped my arms behind me, sitting on the edge. The jeans came off over my lace-up boots; so did my panties.
I tried to tell them I hadn’t trimmed or anything, but Jamie had gotten on the bed behind me, way up on her knees. She’s a lot taller than me. She had a ball gag in her hand.
She stuffed it in my mouth and buckled it snugly around me as Andre came in tight against me and forced my legs open.
“No more talking from you,” Jamie said, as Andre’s fingers worked into me. “We’ll find out everything we want to know about you.” She put her lips to my cheek and laughed sadistically. “It’ll be like a whole year’s bondage blogging, crammed into the next hour.”
Now she had ropes in her hands. She and Andre pulled and pushed me back onto the bed, and the whole time Andre was up inside me—his fingers, firm against my insides, with the heel of his hand on my clit.
I moaned into the ball gag as Jamie started tying me.
Just how they got me tied up so good, I have no idea. None of my boyfriends could ever manage it. I always figured you needed a four-poster bed. Not so, apparently.
The rope was perfect; Jamie and Andre cooed about it as they traded off tying me up. They secured my wrists to my sides with a series of loops around my hips. They tied my tits up tightly with ropes going over my shoulders and down my back in a crisscross pattern. They put nipple clamps on me and buckled the dog collar around my throat. They hoisted me up—with Andre’s hand still up inside me—and planted me arch-backed, legs spread, with Jamie cradling me. Andre secured my ankles to my hips and got down in between my legs, his tongue caressing my thighs.
He kissed my right thigh, then drew his big hand up and slapped my left one. He repeated the cycle, kissing and slapping. My thighs turned red fast, and he slapped me harder, sometimes five times in a row. I didn’t have a whip, but he didn’t need one. He hit me harder till my thighs felt hot and looked lobster red, and then he went back to kissing my thighs while Jamie lit a candle.
The candle flame burned hot above me; Jamie tried the wax on her hand, then gave an appreciative murmur. She lifted it high and dripped wax on my tits. I jerked as it struck me. It wasn’t that hot; it had just surprised me a little. It’s not as surprising when you’re always the one dripping candle wax on your own tits.
Jamie made a disapproving sound. “You’re not going to be a little wimp, are you?” she teased me. “That isn’t hot. This is hot.”
She brought the candle down low and more wax spilled out. It hurt. My tits really were more sensitive, tied as tightly as they were. I jerked again, arching my back. I moaned into the gag. Andre’s mouth molded to my pussy and he started eating me out. His tongue worked up into my slit, but he took his time making his way to my clitoris; by the time he did, my tits were practically covered in candle wax, and Jamie had started on my stomach, putting her hand down to catch any that ran toward Andre’s head.
I’d seen him eat Jamie out a hundred times in their video clips. The sight of it always made my thighs get weak. He was way better at it in person, and before long I was right up on the edge of an orgasm.
Andre knew it, too. He pulled back and put his hands on my knees and spread my legs wide. I was already bound, but he held me down as well—so Jamie could lower the candle to my thighs.
They were sensitive as hell—especially with how turned on I was. I spasmed all over with each drip. Jamie brought it closer. The wax got hotter. Andre’s fingers worked up into my pussy again, but he went really slowly. He was teasing me. He kept on teasing me till my thighs were covered and I was just about crazy with need. Jamie had burned the candle halfway down at that point; wax covered my tits and my stomach and thighs. She didn’t have much of me left to torture.
“You want my husband to fuck you? Or do you want to get off on one of your fun little toys?” She held up the biggest of my three dildos—and when I say biggest, I mean biggest. I’d never successfully got it inside me. (Though I had had a lot of fun trying.)
I looked at Andre and nodded. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. There were condoms in the nightstand; Jamie found one and tossed it to him. He opened his pants, took out his cock and sheathed it.
Jamie leaned over me, reaching down to guide him in. He was big and hard and curved just right and really took his time teasing me, going slow at first while he looked in my eyes. Even so, he didn’t have to fuck me very long before I was almost there.
But it didn’t hurt that Jamie took her shirt off and leaned down to rub my clit as Andre fucked me.
I came like crazy.
Andre didn’t rush through it after I’d climaxed hard on his cock. He let Jamie lean me back so he could look in my eyes, and Jamie cuddled up and looked at me with him. It would have been slightly creepy if I hadn’t seen them a million times in my fantasies, doing things just as dirty as this, and maybe dirtier.
She took my nipple clamps off while he fucked me. I felt the pain explode through me, flying high on endorphins. She also untied the rope that held my ankles to my hips and forced my back up in an arch; it had made it really easy to come, but my back was aching.
With only my wrists tied, I could wrap my legs around him. Andre fucked me deeper with each stroke, his heavy, hard body atop me. He took his time, as he’d taken his time with everything. Jamie got completely naked at some point. She slid up against me and kissed my face and neck while her husband took his pleasure with my cunt. I’d never experienced a man going this long; he seemed to know exactly how to please himself, and please me while he was doing it. I guess he’d had a good teacher.
Jamie never stopped kissing and playing with me while Andre fucked me—and when she unbuckled my gag, we started making out. Andre leaned back with his knees tucked under my butt, sweat-covered and beautiful above me, watching the two of us kiss; he looked like he was in heaven.
