I have a secret -- one that I've never shared with anyone for fear it will be taken away from me. If you promise not to tell, I'll take you along with me on my voyeuristic little peek-a-boo.
You see, my wife is a little promiscuous. Well, that's not entirely true. Some would call her a little slut. I wholeheartedly agree but at the risk of offending anyone, I prefer my own term, "deviantly delicious". I know the literary critics will cringe upon the invention of my adjective but the description fits her so well. So let's use it. It'd make the perfect logo emblazoned across her resilient C-cups that always stand so perky beneath the flirty tee shirts she wears to the market.
What makes it all so interesting is the fact that she isn't aware that I know of her little sexual escapades. I discovered them quite by accident once while coming home early to pick up a report I'd worked on the night before. She spends the mornings entertaining clients she meets on the Internet. Don't get the wrong idea, she doesn't charge -- it's all done for pure pleasure and to keep her creative "juices" flowing -- if you get my drift? Well, you're probably growing bored with my rambling so let's sneak in and see whom she's doing today.
We have the best view in the house as I've installed little cameras about our home, in the ceilings, in the bookshelves, everywhere. They're all tied in to a live feed to my computer here at work where I take my mid-morning break and follow her little sex-capade about the entire house.
Good, we're just in time...
The doorbell rings its ominous ding-dong as Amanda appears from the hall dressed in a crisp black skirt and a white button up blouse. Black stiletto heels accentuate the fetish beauty of her feminine ankles that stride in sexual articulation across our living room floor. The anticipation of what we are about to witness leaves me with a throbbing hard-on. Unconsciously, I lean into the monitor afraid of missing something. I feel a certain amount of deviant guilt, watching her from the sidelines as she unknowingly entertains me while indulging her own fantasies
Amanda's small hand reaches out to engage the bulbous doorknob that seems to swell to her touch. Her petite wrist wrestles with its bulging girth as it surrenders to her desire and she swings the door in a wide-open display of middle class hospitality. A large black man fills the doorway, his white canines smiling upon the sweet naive innocence of this little housewife in picket fence suburbia.
The microphones pick up her Southern drawl as she invites him in and politely asks if she can get him anything. His polite smile vanishes as he pushes the door closed and engages the deadbolt lock. His eyes survey the room and he spots my office to his left and points with his riding crop. "In there." Amanda complies with the eagerness of a child hoping to please her angry daddy.
"Strip -- everything comes off except your panties and heels." His command is short and staccato. He wears an entire equestrian get-up from riding boots to frilly white lapel. With his hands clasped behind his back, he rocks rhythmically upon his heels and toes. His polished boots creak with the motion. He reveals his irritation at her hesitation by clenching his jaws and narrowing his eyes.
Amanda swallows hard. Self-doubt crosses her face as she wonders if she is truly up to the task at hand. Her fingers develop a noticeable tremor as they fumble with the buttons that protect her chaste persona. She breaks eye contact with her master and focuses on the slow pirouette of her manicured nails down the buttons of her blouse.
His boots click with each stride closing the distance between them. She is shaken by the hollow sound and dares not look up. Her white linen recoils in an ever- deepening vee as each button deserts its post. She reaches the bottom and pulls her blouse's tailored tail from the waist of her form fitting black skirt. Still looking down in a submissive role, she performs an articulate shoulder sway that sends her blouse into a slithering slow spiral down to the highly polished floor.
The extended riding crop coaxes her face upward towards his. She bites her lower lip as he softly taps her cheek sending her curled eyelashes into an enticing flutter of childhood memories.
"Continue -- you're wasting precious time."
Amanda's nipples protrude against the lacy white confines of the supportive bra. The flash of her red nails releases the front clasp and the elastic material recoils back into her armpits. Her milky white skin contrasts sensually with the black leather of his crop as it lifts each pink nipple in turn, slowly teasing them with laps of its hardened tongue. His dark eyes study her face as he begins his inspection. The leather traces a lazy circle about her waist as he walks about her studying his milky white charge. His fingers entangle the back of her bra and he hesitates for effect. Amanda holds her breath and closes her eyes as in a sudden snatch her arms are pulled behind her back. She arches forward as he hold her wrists pinned and whispers his commands across her neck. Waves of goose bumps flow across her skin and her shoulders lift with the sensual chill. His bulging cock presses into her palm, her slender fingers savor his need.
"That's good, isn't it? It feels good in your hand, doesn't it?"
Amanda seems to choke on her saliva as a silent, um huh escapes from her clenched teeth. With a sharp slap of his crop, he instructs her to continue. Her hands fall to her sides as she unclasps her skirt and timidly pulls at her zipper. He steps back and enjoys the sensual sashay of her hourglass wiggles that loosen the linen caress of her skirt. The skirt slides downward, dripping into a black puddle about her ankles. Her ladylike manners tease my aching cock as I lust after each firm calf stepping seductively from the depths of her darkened pool. Stiletto black heels adorn her fetish inducing feet and ankles, blending in a fluid curve about her smooth seductive calves. The crescent moons peek shyly from the lace of her cheeky shorts as she straightens. Shoulders back, knockers out -- as if her mother is scolding her adolescent posture.
The elevation of her heels places her upon a pedestal display, emphasizing the roundness of her thighs, the arcing curvature of her slender back and sandwiched in between, the flowing symmetry of her well-proportioned ass. Her rear is the perfect silhouette of an upside down heart, diverging from her small waist in effeminate cursive, forming clover leaf on-ramps that converge in tight roundabouts back in upon themselves. A small vestibule of light beams through the oval orifice where her soft thighs plunge into the rich valley of her feminine purpose. Breathtaking.
"Nice, very nice, but I believe you were told to wear red panties. No, my dear, white won't do, won't do at all."
"I remember you said white over the phone." She argues, "I'm certain because you said it would highlight my red ass when you were finished."
An unexpected slap upon her protruding left cheek rocks her upon her toes as she lets out a loud yelp of pain. She turns to protest and is immediately met with another.
"You're on display. Eyes forward. I can see your husband has his problems with you -- doesn't know how to deal with a high spirited little whore like you. You'll have to learn restraint and discipline. Can't have you contradicting your master. No, that is unacceptable."
Amanda's face flushes red, competing with the red splotches that glow from her extruded pain. I watch her fingers clench, forming tight little fists as she fights to control her urges to cover her rump. Her slender arms tense and she flattens her stomach to control the stinging pain. Small spots of white form upon her tightly drawn knuckles; her top lip quivers slightly. This has always been one of her most creamy delight fantasies. The mere thought of a good spanking causes her to cross and uncross her thighs in anticipation.
"You're not accustomed to being controlled. You always have your way. But now it's my way. Pull your panties about your knees. Bend over and hold your ankles. Leg's straight, don't squat."
Amanda hesitates a little too long and the sting of his crop shocks her from her indecision. Her fingers unclench as they caress the elastic of her panties. She pushes them down about the angle of her ankles. The white lace innocence clings to the black high-heeled symbol of feminine authority. Her slender legs seem especially long as she bends double and presses her pear shaped breasts against the fronts of her thighs. Between the uplifted arches of her ass, swollen pussy lips protrude in reddened furrows of a deviant farmer's fervent plowing. She has carefully trimmed and shaved her adorning bush for just the right effect after I left for work. We all enjoy her attention to detail.
He abandons the crop in favor of a cat of nine tails. He softly slaps it across his open palm, allowing the biting leather tails to slither across his calloused skin. He tickles her stretched ass with its special touch as he forces her to remain in her open splayed posture. Her face reddens as her hair falls in reddish-brown wisps upon the waxed floor.
"Such a virgin ass, never been exposed to leather. Where are your panties?"
Amanda rocks as she realizes her mistake and hastily pulls the panties back up over her sculptured calves. A crisp slap meets her efforts as she stumbles forward. She catches herself upon my large office desk.
She attempts to stand and is immediately pushed back upon its cool hard surface. Instinctively her hands seek to protect her bottom.
"Move those hands or you'll be spanked all the more. What kind of bitch is this that covers her milky white bottom? You wanted to be spanked and now you cover up -- is this part of your good girl fantasy?"
Amanda's sweet Southern accent arouses me all the more as she offers her apologies to this Big Daddy stranger in my home taking liberties with my wife, privileges that I am not even allowed to have. I can't help but wonder what her parents would think if they were here right now. I also wonder how Amanda would react if she knew we were watching.
She curls her fingers tightly about the edge of my desk as she awaits his punishment for her lack of respect. My hand massages my throbbing cock as I watch each slice of leather bite against Amanda's buttered bottom. She flinches but holds tightly to her handhold as another lash strikes her opposite cheek.
"Count each one in turn, and then ask for another."
"Two -- can I have another?"
"What's the magic word, sweetness?"
"Please..." Amanda's drawn out pronunciation of her vowels seems cute in a perverted sort of way and she is immediately rewarded with a third harder lash.
"Three, can I have another, please?"
"Shouldn't you refer to me as Daddy?"
"Daddy, can I have another, please?"
"Four, Daddy, can I please have another?"
Slap...
"It hurts, Daddy, it hurts."
Slap...
"Please, Daddy, stop. I've learned my lesson. I'll do anything you say. Please don't spank me anymore."
"Well, let's see if you're sincere."
Amanda's white welts are reddening and rising above the surface as she holds tightly to the edges of the desk. She strains upon the tips of her high-heeled toes. Her neck arches back attempting to alleviate her pain as her reddish brown locks spill upon her upper back. The muscles of her slender back stand taut beneath her skin, slick with perspiration. Her pussy ripens and swells with the sensual pain of the spankings as it presses and molds itself between her moist inner thighs. Her furrowed groin glistens with her arousal like sprinkled sugar upon a fresh cherry tart. She seems to beg for someone to sample her rising loaf, swollen as bread made with a baker's wonton desire. She presents the most erotic pose I've ever seen. My hand massages my aching cock and I feel the wet evidence of pre-cum seeping through my pants.
His large thick hand stretches to sample the heat from her ass. He touches her softly, the blackness of his hand hiding her reddened ass like the moon eclipsing the sun. "Ah, poor baby. Here let Daddy make it all better for you."
Amanda grimaces as he massages her tender ass, awakening the burning pain from her stunned nerve endings. Her ass resembles a big harvest moon on the horizon. Its reddish orange glow of warmth invites us in for the harvest ball that is about to occur. His thick fingers cup the protruding mounds of her ass as he pushes her cheeks up and runs his fingers along the swollen seam of her pussy. She pours herself into his upturned palm and snuggles down like a fuzzy kitten upon a pillow.
"I've heard that you little soccer mommies love to give head. Is that true?"
Amanda doesn't reply verbally. Her eyelids drift shut as she takes in the sexual sensation that balances her upon the teeter-tot of pain and pleasure. She acknowledges his question with a slow nod of affirmation. His hand entangles her shampooed locks as he pulls her from my desk and she instinctively falls to the floor before him upon her knees. There is an audible rip as the crotch of her panties tears with her eagerness to taste him.
Her petite fingers pull at the button of his pants as if they were old partners. She pinches his zipper daintily between her thumb and forefinger as she pulls it the full length then tugs to make sure she has reached the end. His waistband separates pulling back with a deep vee pointing to her pleasure. Her slender fingers dig beneath the elastic waistband of his underwear pulling them down along with his trousers as his deep black cock springs free and slaps her suddenly across the cheek. Her white skin stands in stark contrast to his bluish black root as she catches him between the palms of both hands. She patiently massages him, as she looks up to his face as if seeking his parental permission to begin. His wide palms cradle her cheeks as his thumbs tease her full lips apart and he pulls her pretty mouth about his thick swollen dick. Her lips roll upon its veined surface as he pulls her down his full length. I watch her cheeks sink in as she sucks him and watch her throat open to welcome him in. As he reaches the back of her throat, he holds her there enjoying the image of her protruding lips and elongated face contorting to please his exploration. She struggles as he force feeds her the last inch and enjoys her willingness to be deep-throated.
Her arms reach around behind him and her red tipped nails claw into the knotted mass of his ass as she reveals her hunger. Her lips shine with her saliva as she kisses the base of his scrotum with her mouth full of dick. It is one of the prettiest sights a man will ever see. The tip of her tongue licks at the base of his dick while his pelvis humps slowly and methodically to her teasing tickles. Her throat pulses in and out as she reveals her talent for massaging a dick with her throat muscles alone. Her head doesn't move as she holds him deep within her and enjoys the full sensation of his arousal.
When she senses he is about to finish, she quickly relaxes her throat and lips, letting the suction evaporate. I hear her polite request, "Please, sir, will you fuck me? I've been good and it's been so long since I had a good hard dick. I'll be your little whore if you'll only make it last. Her dilated saucers plead her feminine needs as she wonders if her pussy is as inviting to him as her mouth. She attempts to stop the quiver of her top lip as his rod pulses with his heartbeat only centimeters from her moist breath. "I'll do whatever you want afterwards. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
The sincerity and the implication of her promise causes him to smile, and he pulls her to her feet and bends her over my desk of discipline. I watch her fingers pull her cheeks and pussy apart to give him entry as his head slowly disappears inside her and he pushes deep. As he fills her she rises upon her toes to accommodate his upward strokes. He is too tall for my wife's petite frame and I watch as his thrusts lift her from the floor; she supports her weight with her forearms pressed against the desk. His hands encircle her waist as he moves her back and forth, in and out upon his skewer.
I become jealous as I listen to her gasps and whimpers of pleasure. "Oh, oh, thank you. Please just a little harder. Make me sore." Her soft moans grow louder as his rhythm increases and he slams her ass against him. The jostling bounce of her ass is more than I can take. I know he is bottoming against her and she'll suffer the consequences tomorrow but God her song can't be ignored. I look around and notice that the entire office is watching my wife's tryst sing-a-long. My co-workers, men and women are staring open-mouthed with bulging cocks and erect nipples as the cries of my wife grow louder and more fervent with every slap of flesh on flesh.
"Oh God, please don't stop. Harder, harder, ouch, ouch, oyeee. Come on daddy teach me a lesson." Her siren's song ends with a scream as she climaxes and her muscles lock about him, milking his hot cum. We all stare wide-eyed as he withdraws and she reaches between her thighs to sample the pleasing mixture of their sex. She licks its sticky saline texture from her fingertips as if it were the icing from our wedding cake.
She smiles a naughty little smile and winks into the camera....
Originally published November 2005 - "Taboo!"