Oops!! Caught Comprimising!

[justmethatswho]

Lindsay Morgan was your typical married woman. Being 34 and married for the last eight years she was happy. Children were not on the horizon as well that was complicated.

Well at least she thought she was content, until she met Mark Hughes on a business trip. Sitting at the hotel bar eating dinner one night, the bar was packed and she offered him a seat, just to be kind. Turned out the conversation was intriguing, she felt like a school girl after a few hours of chatting. Apple flavoured martinis were flowing, she had lost count after 3. It was to her surprise not him, but her who asked him to her room. He had paused, looking at her hand, her diamond wedding band fully displayed. Before he could answer she kissed him. "Come now!" she nearly begged.

It was like no other night in her life, she was so excited for what she knew was coming. The two waited for the elevator doors to close and immediately she threw herself at him. "I want you ... I need you." she whispered in a sultry voice. She lead him to her room, once inside again the passion burned. Soon she was bent over the desk, her skirt lifted, her panties at her ankles as he fucked her from behind, he ripped her blouse open, pulling her bra down, she wathced thier reflection in the window. "Oh Mark yessss, fuck me baby, fuck me hard."

The night did not end there, soon she was on her knees, this time sucking his cock, she wanted more. Once he was hard, she stripped, till all she wore were her 3" pumps. She laid back on the bed her legs spread, she watched as the man she barely knew accepted her invitation. She moaned loudly on his touch.

It was 5am when she awoke to the wakeup call. She had an earlly flight. her body a bit sore, reminding her of her infidelity. Mark had left, she was not sure when. Yet he had left a card with a note. "Call me Lindsay, would love to do last night again." Guilt filled her how could she have done that. He phone buzzed indicating a voice mail. She looked, seeing she had missed four calls from her husband Jonathon. Tears welled in her eyes.

.......

It was nearly a month before she finally emailed, Mark. At first apolagising trying to deny her infidelity. Yet inside she loved the night the two had spent together, deep inside hoping it could happen again. As the two exchanged emails she discovered he was divorced. Finaly she explained she was married. He teased her back explaining how the wedding ring told him that.

A few weeks later, he would be traveling to her part of the country. Lindsay and Mark agreed to meet. As Jonathon was to be out of town with friends. She told her husband she was going to have a girls weekend nly to secretly meet her lover.

......

Lindsay and Mark spent a couple nights together. The sex was unbelievably exciting as she did things she never dreemed of. The two parted, though she wanted more, the agreement between her and her lover was to be no more than that. The two kissed and she departed, arriving home before Jonathon, wanting to capture some excitement, she awaited him, dressed in only lingerie and heels. The two made love, though it paled to her desires of the steamy sex her and Mark shared.

.....

Mark and Lindsay shared emails, never chatting on the phone to keep their secret. They had tenatively agreed to another meeting. As she checked her emails on her work account one caught her attention. "Lindsay you are a bad girl" with an attached photo.

Lindsay a bad girl!!

"I will contact you later"

At first she ignored it, denying it could be her, until the email arrived agin, this time she opened the photo. She knew immediately, even though the face had been cropped, it was her and Mark. She had never worn that dress with Jonathon. Her mind raced to that night, she recalled how shortly after that moment, he had slid his hand under her dress and found her pantyless.

"Oh my God." she whispered to herself.

Unsure how to respond she finally decided sending a simple email.

"What do you want?"

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry Morgan was in his late fifties, now, and neither married nor interested in that blissful state. There were still women to bed, and he didn’t plan on stopping until he was three days in the grave. He was pretty good at seduction, too, and many a lady who had spent a night with Harry wished it could be the start of a lifetime. His looks and fitness were no hindrance to his dalliances; he was handsome, muscular, and well-hung.

He was out on the town one night, hitting a few nightspots in search of some prey, when he thought he recognized a rather attractive woman, clearly highly aroused, judging by how she rubbed her thigh against her companion’s leg. He moved down the bar to get a better look, and realized that, without a doubt, it was his nephew Jonathon’s wife. But it wasn’t his nephew’s leg that was getting her thigh massage. In fact, he had no idea who this other man was.

Harry first met Lindsay at her wedding to Jonathon, and thought her quite a good catch for the boy. Particularly after he danced with her. She was one of those sensuous souls, a woman who just really enjoyed the physicality of her own body. If he had met her in a bar or club, he’d have made sure he’d play her all the way, but she was his nephew’s wife now, and he didn’t even try. He had just hoped that Jonathon could keep her, but he had his doubts about that. And here she was, for sure, just about devouring another man, and in public. “Just because it’s twenty miles from her home town,” he thought, “she’s foolish to think no one would know her.”
Well, what Harry saw was enough to let him know that Lindsay was now fair game, and he came up with a fun, for him, at least, plan to get her out of her clothes for his pleasure. Morgan was a bit of a collector, if you know what I mean, and always had an inconspicuous digital camera with him to make souvenirs of his conquests. It was set at ISO 1600, and, with a f-stop of 2.8, he had no trouble getting a couple of good photos. He followed them to a hotel, too, and snapped a few more as they went in wrapped around each other like two teenagers in heat.

He sat on the photos and the plan for a while, just to play a bit with her, letting her think her little bit of cheating had gone unseen, and then acted. His first email failed to elicit a response, so he tried again.

He had told Lindsay that he’d contact her, so he was pleased to see her email in his box; it meant she was worried enough to push the panic button. And that was an opportunity for more play. He waited a week before responding, giving her some time to become even more worried and himself some time to find when to have her act. When he knew that Jonathon would be away for a few days on business, he sent his instructions.

His email was simple and clear enough. If she didn’t want her husband to know what she was up to, she would have to follow the instructions exactly. She should dress fully in proper business attire and return to the same hotel as in the photo at 8:00 Wednesday night. She was to go straight to room 623, and there she would find further instructions.

 

[justmethatswho]

Lindsay took a deep breath, holding back her tears. How had she done this, cheating on her husband whom she loved. Inside the agony was tearing her apart. Her mind wondered who it was. Maybe Mark had talked of her, maybe a friend, though she would have saw them, a business associate though she had given out more than 1500 business cards in the last year. How did this person get her e-mail. She had no real clues as to who it was. She had even spoken to Mark, not telling him someone knew, yet hoping he would divulge something to her.

She checked her emails about 100 times a day for another email from whomever knew. She could explain it to him, he would understand she reasoned. Almost a week later the email arrived, the instructions were simple, go to the hotel and go straight to room 623 on Wednesday at 8pm. After looking at her schedule she was thankful, Jonathon was leaving that morning on a business trip. Though it was still a couple days away.

Tuesday night the couple went to dinner. Lindsay teased, arousing him at the restaurant confessing she wanted to spice up thier sex life. It was the first time he had heard those words, as sex primarliy consisted of the husband and wife in the missionary position. She had not sucked his cock in quite some time.

Jonathon, though appreciative, was a bit puzzled. Though Lindsay explained it away as her curiosity from talking with her girlfriends. Her deeper hope was that Jonathon could feel the incredible desires for raw sex that Mark had started in her. Lindsay continued her tease in the car on the way home, asking him to make love to her. She wanted him to fuck her but found the words difficult to ask her husband. The two made love that eveing, as they did Lindsay's mind floated away, hoping he would ravish her, but the fact was he would not.

.....


She awoke earlly but not before Jonathon had left for his flight. She found a note on the counter, "Hey L, thanks for the wonderful night, Miss you. Love J"

She dressed for work in a business jackent and skirt, a silk white blouse under the jacket, concealing her matching panties and thong. Opting for thigh high black stockings instead of her normal pantyhose. With her knee length skirt the stockings would go unoticed. She also donned a pair of 4" strappy heels vs her typical 2" pumps.

Lindsay stood in front of the mirror, a bit confident in her look. She assured herself she would solve this issue by the end of the night. She took an oversized purse with her tucking her essentials along with some additional lingerie and clothing should she need it.

......

Work was little more than a blur, looking at her email frequently for another message, but none arrived. She worked until just after 5 before leaving for the hotel. She parked and called Jonathon, telling him she was going out with her friend, Ashley this eveing, and would probably stay over her house. She told him she loved him and he did the same to her. Waiting a few minutes before exiting the car. She reasoned to her self this was for him, to save him the anquish of discovering her infidelities.

Lindsay found the room, knocking on the door, yet there was no answer. She returned to the front desk to ask for a key. She showed the clerk her ID and he responded pleasantly. "There you go Miss Morgan, enjoy your evening." Lindsay responded with a nervous smile.

Upon returning to room 623 she unlocked the door, not wanting to open it she waited. As the elevator door opened down the hall startling her she opened the room entering and closing the door behind her. The room was silent and dark, the curtains were open providing minimal lighting. The door closed behind her. After setting her oversized purse down, she scanned the room. Then looked on the dresser, next the desk not finding anything. She called to the front desk asking if there had been any messages left for her, there where none.

It was then she saw it, a envalope at the foot of the bed. She stared, for a moment thinking it was something from the hotel. After agonizing she finally reached for it, seeing now how it was addressed, startled her. Scrawled accross the front of the envalope were the words "Cheating Whore". The envalope was not sealed and she sealed the note inside out, staring unable to read for a moment.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry sat in the hotel bar, nursing a scotch on the rocks, as he awaited his nephew’s wife’s arrival. His seat had a clear view of the lobby and of the front desk, and he didn’t miss her entrance. She was dressed as he had instructed, but with a little bit extra.

“I wonder if she has some plans of her own,” he thought as he noted her 4-inch heels, “maybe she’s even more of a slut than I thought.”

He waited also for her return. He might have left the door open for her, but a return to the lobby to ask the clerk for the key would help emphasize the sobriquet on the envelope in the room. And it did. She came back, looking very embarrassed and very nervous.

Morgan ordered another drink as he imagined her in the room, reading and following her instructions. She’d have found the envelope addressed to the “Cheating Whore” by now and would have read them. Or it, as there was but a single order: “Look in the minibar.” There she would find another note, telling her to pour herself an Appletini from the shaker and then to look in the top drawer of the dresser. In the drawer she’d find a black silk scarf folded lengthwise and yet another note: “Take the scarf and your drink and sit in the lounger. At half past eight, stand up and face the full length mirror. Tie the scarf over your eyes as a blindfold. Tie it under those lovely tresses of yours, but make sure you can’t see. Remember, if you do see anything, Jonathon will see everything. Wait for me, and then follow all my orders without hesitation.”

Harry sipped his drink as he thought of her in the room, alone and wondering what would be in store for herself, and he relished the anxiety he hoped she’d feel. He finished his drink just after eight-thirty and slowly headed upstairs. As he entered the room, he noted she had left the lights off, and thought again that she might actually be a slut. “We’ll see soon enough,” he thought as he closed the door behind himself.

“Quiet!” he said sharply as she began to say something to him, “I didn’t instruct you to speak. You’ll have your chance when I tell you.”

He circled her, then, getting a good look at his stunning niece-in-law and imagining the fun he’d have with her tonight. He stopped at the little bar and fixed himself another scotch before sitting in the lounge chair with Lindsay standing blindfolded in front of him.

“Start turning around, Lindsay,” he said, and when she was facing him, he ordered her to stop.

“That’s a very good start, whore,” he told her, adding, “we wouldn’t want Jonathon knowing you were a cheating whore as well, would we?”

“Now,” he continued, “strip off your clothes, slowly and real sexy, like you would for that lover-boy of yours.”

Harry watched intently as Lindsay slid her jacket off and let it drop to the floor. He sipped his scotch as she unhooked her skirt and let it fall around her ankles. Her white silk blouse was next, and her fingers lingered over each button before she slid it slowly over her shoulders and dropped it on top of her jacket. The only sounds as she undressed was her breath, his, and the sound of his camera as it recorded each item in the performance

“Wait, now,” Morgan ordered, savoring the view of her in bra and thong, stockinged legs taut from standing in the high heels, “turn completely around, very slowly.”

When she was facing him again, he said, “Just your undies, now, my pretty little slut. I think leaving the stockings and shoes would be a nice idea.”

He paused for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of Lindsay so naked and vulnerable , and wondering what was going on in her mind as she stripped for an unseen stranger.

“Very good so far, Lindsay,” he said, “now I think you wanted to say something to me. I’m listening, girl.”

Harry took a long drink of his scotch as he waited to hear her out.

 

[justmethatswho]

Lindsay opened the first note, and moved to the honor bar, mixixing herself an appletine which eased her a bit. As she sipped her cocktail, her hand carressed the black silk scarf. Nervously she shifted, glancing at the clock on the table frequently.

At 8:28 she stood up, her drink long gone. The vodka relaxing her petite body. She folded the silk scarf, then placed it over her eyes. The last thing she saw was the clock at 8:29 as she tighted the scarf as she lifted her hair. Her sight completely gone, she remained motionless. The strangley quiet room was now filled with quiet sounds, from the traffic on the street below to the low humming of the mini fridge. Thier was even an occasional drip in the sink.

Her heart raced, as time continuned even as she tried to pace her breathing, her own breaths echoed in her ears. Her mouth was dry from the nervousness, her hands clammy. As she stood she became acutely aware of her body, the slik blouse carressing her shoulders and the exposed tops of her breasts, as she shifted the satin lining of her skirt, teased her thighs exposed between her panties and stockings.

The silence was broken as she heard the door open, she turned to look, eventhough she could see nothing.

"I ...I" were the only words she got out, prior to a mans voice telling her to quiet. She searched her memory to place the voice but could not. She felt his presence just prior to hearing him sit in the lounge chair. Then he told her to turn around. She did as he told her, quietly shuffling her feet little by little in an effort to maintain her balence. She could here him place a glass down, wishing she herself had another drink.

She heard him speak again though the only words she heard were "whore, cheating whore and slut" the words peirced her honor. Never in her life had she heard those words directed at herself. She was a good girl she had always been, until that night with Mark.

"Strip" he heard him say, the jacket was easy to remove, though she paused before the skirt, though eventually the satin lining carressed her legs as the skirt fell to the floor. She lifted her right leg, then her her left from the fallen skirt. She then kicked it behind her. In her mind she played a song to remove her clothes to. She shifted, slowly allowing the silk blouse to fall from her shoulders, to the top of her breasts. Trying to maintain a sense of control. Eventually the bloouse fell to her wrists, before tossing it back behind her.

She had hoped he would tell her to stop, yet the silence affirmed her to continue. Reaching behind her she unsnapped her bra, holding it in place she slid her arms free. Then allowed the bra to fall, landing on her feet. The cool air, immediately sprung her nipples erect. At least she convinced herself of that.

It was as far as she was going to go. Until he commanded her to stand before himin only her heels and stockings. She eased her patines from each hip, knowing soon she would expose her clean sahven pussy. It was something she had done to surprise Mark on their second night together. She pushed her panties as far as her thighs and then shimmied her body causing the panities to fall to her knees and finally the floor.


She kicked her panties asside, her feet together, before a man she did not know wearing only her stockings and heels. Her mind thought how much of a slut she must appear to be. Then he asked her to speak.

She paused prior to beginning, words colliding in her mind. It was her only chance to get out of this. "I am so sorry, I should have never done those things with Mark. He was the only one I ever cheated with, I was drunk and stupid. I love Jonathon, he is my soulmate, I regret what I did. I am not this type of girl, I have only slept with 4 men in my life, all whom I knew for nearly a year before sleeping with them. I regret it, please I will not do it again, I never wanted to hurt Jonathon." Lindsay pleaded.

She stopped for a moment and heard nothing. It was then she remembered the curtains were open to the room. The embarrassment silenced her. The nervousness was obvious, yet she hoped that her nervousness hid her own erotic excitement.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry listened silently and dispassionately to Lindsay’s plea and then spoke.

“Mrs. Morgan,” he said, using her title to emphasize her infidelity, “you have confessed and have stated a purpose of amendment, though I doubt it is a firm one. I wager that were Mark to call, you’d lust after him like a mare in heat, desperate for her stallion’s swollen prick.”

“You haven’t, though,” he continued, “sought any atonement for your deeds. I am no priest in a confessional, my dear, but if it makes you feel any better, you can count what you do for me as your punishment.”

“Now,” he said, speaking more brusquely, “I have a use for one of your tits. Pick which one and hold it up for me.”

When Lindsay had lifted one in her cupped hand, he took hold of its nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it, leading her around the room until they arrived at the window. He released his grip as he told her to stand there with her arms by her side.

It was just after nine, now, but twilight still illuminated the sky and filled the room with a soft light. There was no glare, and any who looked could see through the hotel room’s window. Few might have, though, since they were on the sixth floor. But this was a business hotel, in the center of downtown and surrounded by office buildings. Harry looked out and saw a group of people working late in an office directly across the street.

“Lift your right leg, Mrs. Morgan,” he ordered as he guided her foot to the sill of the picture window. Her legs were spread now, and her smooth-shaven pussy was exposed to the world outside. “Keep it there,” he added as he positioned her just the way he wanted.

Harry grasped her around the back of the neck with his right hand and slid his left lasciviously over her hip and down to her vee. As he squeezed her mound in his palm, he could feel her juices seeping out from her slit, and he smiled to himself to find her aroused. A glance across the street, and he saw that one of the men working late had caught sight of her and was drawing the attention of his colleagues - two men and a woman - to the view. It was time for a show, thought Morgan, and he began to give them one.

He held her tight by the neck as he took her left hand in his. He brought it up to her breast and guided it in a slow, sensuous massage before directing her fingers to her stiffening nipple. He squeezed it with her own fingers and then pulled up and out to stretch the whole of her tit to its limit. He saw the spectators looking in rapt attention as he let the left breast fall and then guide her hand to the right to play with that one in the same way. Across the street, Harry could see that one of the men had wrapped his arm around the woman’s waist and that she made no attempt to stop him.

“Looks like I won’t be the only one having fun tonight,” he laughed to himself.

After he had her stretch and drop her right breast, Harry brought Lindsay’s hand to her pubis and pressed her middle finger with his until her slit opened up for them. He had her stroke up and down, making her tease her own hole and then massage her own clit. He could feel her trembling after a few minutes, and then suddenly pushed her finger inside her. He bent it upward to find her sensitive, sweet spot, and made her rub it firmly, circling around the roof of her vagina. Across the street, the man’s hand had moved upward and held the woman’s breast. Another of her colleagues was behind her, lifting her skirt. She made no effort to stop them.

“That’s enough, Mrs. Morgan,” said Harry abruptly as he sensed she was about to cum, and he pulled her hand from her pussy.

“I need a tit again,” he continued, “give me the same one or the other. It’s your choice.”

Lindsay picked and held it up for him. Harry took it by the nipple again, and led the trembling woman back to the lounge chair.

“Stand here,” he told her and took a step back. He looked her over, and then began to speak.

“You don’t think you’re a whore, do you?” he asked rhetorically, “yet a stranger offers you a price and you agree to give him your body.” He gave her a moment to think about it.

“And then you strip sensuously for him, without even seeing who he is. You give him your tit to play with and pull to lead you around. He feels your pussy, then, and finds it all hot and wet. He stands you in the window - don’t kid yourself, you know you were there - and you put on a show like a prostitute in an Amsterdam brothel...”

Harry paused, and then concluded, “And after all that, Mrs. Morgan, you’re going to tell me you’re not a whore, that you’re finished with Mark, and sorry you cheated on your husband? Really, Mrs. Morgan, do you expect me to believe that? Do you believe it?”

“Sit down, open your legs, and be quiet,” he told her, and guided her to the ottoman just off the foot of the lounge chair.

Harry went to the bar and poured another drink for each of them. He put his scotch on the table beside the chair and sat down facing Lindsay. He dipped his thumb into her apple martini and then drew it across her lips. It was clear she could use a drink, and he thrust his thumb into her mouth to make sure she got a good taste.

“Suck the liquor from my thumb and you can have the whole drink,” he offered. She did and he handed her the glass.

“Now, Mrs. Morgan,” he said as she took a sip of the drink, “You will tell me what you and Mark did here last month. All the details. And, when you’re finished, Mrs. Morgan, think about it all and tell me what you really are, a contrite loving wife or a slutty cheating whore.”

Harry sat back in his chair to enjoy hearing Lindsay’s full confession while he gazed on her naked and open body.

 

[justmethatswho]

“Mrs. Morgan,” he said, using her title to emphasize her infidelity, “you have confessed and have stated a purpose of amendment, though I doubt it is a firm one. I wager that were Mark to call, you’d lust after him like a mare in heat, desperate for her stallion’s swollen prick.”

The words startled Lindsay. She wondered how much this man knew of her cations. Was he reading ehr mind, in her soul she craved her next meeting with Mark, though none had been set as of now. Yet in her answer she could not admit her mind craved the raw sex the two had shared. "No no no never, I told you I was done." Even so just the thought of Mark agressively taking her willing body turned on her desires.


“Now,” he said, speaking more brusquely, “I have a use for one of your tits. Pick which one and hold it up for me.”


With little warning she felt her assailent take her nipple, pinching and tugging her. She screached as the sharp pain raced through her. He led her, though her steps were cautious and untrusting. When he stopped she could sense the coolness of her location. The sounds of the room seemed to bounce off her new location. These things told her she stood before the window. As close as she was she could feel the warmth of her own breathing rebound from the window. She wondered if he had watched her. Oh my God she thought, what if he had pictures of Mark fucking her.

One of his hands moved to her back near her neck, the other sliding senually to her hip, slowly and teasingly to her freashley shaven front. He was teasing her, trying to get a reaction she was certain.

He then moved one of ehr hands to her own breasts, parting her fingers around her nipple, then pushed her fingers together like a scissors. "Oooooo" she moaned, startled, a bit upset as she felt the pleasure of nipple play. Never in her life had such pain caused pure pleasure thoughout her.

She heard the man speak though her mind was clouded, the words were jumbled as she was lost in her own moment.

As he forced her to lift her breast the pleasurable pain increased, as he did he nudged her own finger into her pussy, she stroked lightly follwoing his motions. Her wet lips inviting her finger to caress herself. She continued, touching her spot, eager now to continue to pleasure herself, as she felt he was forcing her to do. An occasional moan pulled her finger deeper into her own sex. Suddenly he demanded she stop.

She presented the same breast to him, this time knowing he was certain to pinch her nipple, she bit her lip trying to conceal her pleasure. She was not led very far, and he told her to remained standing.

“You don’t think you’re a whore, do you?” he asked rhetorically, “yet a stranger offers you a price and you agree to give him your body.” He gave her a moment to think about it.

She paused trying to avoid the question. Was he right, was she a whore. "no I am no whore." lindsay tried to say convincine herself as much as the man.

“And then you strip sensuously for him, without even seeing who he is. You give him your tit to play with and pull to lead you around. He feels your pussy, then, and finds it all hot and wet. He stands you in the window - don’t kid yourself, you know you were there - and you put on a show like a prostitute in an Amsterdam brothel...”

Lindsay tried to hold back her tears, yet his words were so right. She had willingly done what he had said in an effort to keep her secrets. She felt the tear build in her eye, thankfully the blindfold concealed her weekness.

"No you are making me do this, you are as much to blame as I myself, at least I admit my indiscressions." her words spouted, trying to keep some sense of dignity. As he spoke she relieved the moment, the strage hands on her body, follwoing his commands. She was confused as the stranger had piqued her sensuality and desire. As much as her words denied her desires, she was near certain her body displayed her sensual desires.

Harry paused, and then concluded, “And after all that, Mrs. Morgan, you’re going to tell me you’re not a whore, that you’re finished with Mark, and sorry you cheated on your husband? Really, Mrs. Morgan, do you expect me to believe that? Do you believe it?”

"I am not not a whore. I am finished with Jon" she slipped "I mean Mark, i I Never ...... I regret what I did it was wrong. You have to belive me, please please please, it is the truth." Her voice quivered like a schoolgirl caught in a lie, like a girl not believing her own words.

He then forced her to sit, for a moment she was going to lean back, when she noticed there where no arms or back, she figured he had st her on the ottoman. Her legs parted as he commanded her. Was she to willing she wondered.

“Suck the liquor from my thumb and you can have the whole drink,” he offered. She did and he handed her the glass.

She felt him present her finger, she could smell the appletini her lips parted slowly, unitentionally sensually as she was cautious. The coctail splashed finger caused her to desire more and thankfully he presented her with a drink. She wanted to guzzle it yet she sipped the appletini quickly, the glass was empty.

She held the glass toward the voice as if asking for another.

“Now, Mrs. Morgan,” he said as she took a sip of the drink, “You will tell me what you and Mark did here last month. All the details. And, when you’re finished, Mrs. Morgan, think about it all and tell me what you really are, a contrite loving wife or a slutty cheating whore.”

His requirement startled her, as she dropped the glass on the carpeted, floor, she felt it bonce a loose drop of the appletini landing on her foot follwed shorty there after the glass rooled against her toes.

She sat befor the man, wondering what a vision she was, wearing stockings and heels yet nothing else. Her legs parted as an invitation. She was not even attempting to cover herself from him with her own hands.

Everything?" She whispered in question, his lack of answer assuring her to recall all the events of that night with mark.

Silence filled the room for some time before she began.

"It was only Mark and my second night together, he was in town on business and contacted me. We flirted and kissed at the bar downstairs, little did I know you were watching. After a few cocktails, I urged him to bring me tohis room. As soon as the elevator doors closed we kissed, by the time we reached the floor, his hand was on my ass under the dress and his other in my dress on my breast as he pushed me into the corner kissing me." She left out the words she said asking Mark to fuck her, to fuck her like he did the first night or more, she wanted again to feel how it felt to be fucked by him. "he led me to the room allowing me to enter first, the door was not even closed, before he pushed me agaist the wall face first I turned to kiss him as his hand wrked to undo the dress sliding it from my shoulders exposing my breasts. His other hand lifted my dress, I lifted my left leg to allow him to finger fuck me. After awhile he pulled my dress down a bit on my arms essentially binding my arms to my sides, he then led me to the desk pushing me forward, he raised my dress and fucked me from behind. It was like tonight, the window was open, I could see the offices across wondering if anyone was watching us. " Again she left out what mark had said to her, he had asked if she liked playing the slut, that she was good at it, wearing no panties and bra like a real slut. At the moment his words had given her sincere pleasure to be thought of like that. "After a bit he turned me over, my hands still at my sides, bound in my dress he fucked me as I watched him, his hands on my breasts groping me." It was then she recalled her words to him "fuck me Mark, fuck your slutty bitch, harder baby harder." yet she left the moment out of her story. "He then tensed and we climaxed together."

"He then went and laid on the bed, leaving me laying on the desk. I eased from the desk after some time, I plugged my mp3 player in and played a song, as I finished undressing for him." Lindsay left out how she danced as she stripped. "I then cralled next to him on the bed, wearing only my heels. I took his limp cock into my lips and sucked it until he was hard allowing him to climax in my mouth. We then fell asleep."

"I awoke about two hours later, I asked him to make love to me again." Not her exact words, she had begged him again to fuck her. "This time he took me from behind lifting me and pushing me against the window." This was the real reason she realized she stood before the window earilier in the evening. "He held my hips, thrusting me forward, my face and breasts against the window, my back arched as I willing let him fuck me from behind."

"We then fell asleep awakening about 5am, he had an earlly flight. We showered again and again made love in the shower." She paused leaving out how as he lifted her and fucked her, he had done something she had never experienced before, he had soaked his finger in soap and fingered her ass as he fucked her the final time.

"He then left, no goodbye's no kisses, no words we would see each other again." her disdain for that moment was obvious in her voice as she still harbored anger at Mark for that.

She waited a few minutes pondering how to answer the mans questions. "So I guess to answer your question, I guess ... welll .... that night I was ... a ..... slut. Obviously I cheated which I regret. But whore, I am not a whore."

As she finished her body craved and desired one thing.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry Morgan brought Lindsay another drink as she finished the tale of her time with Mark.

“So, Mrs. Morgan,” Harry said as he fiddled with his laptop, “just what is it you really regret, cheating on Jon, or Jon himself?”

He pressed a key on the computer, and a video began, unseen by the blindfolded woman, but not unheard.

"I am not a whore. I am finished with Jon...I mean Mark, I never ...... I regret what I did it was wrong. You have to believe me, please, please, please, it is the truth." Her words struck back at the truth she claimed to be telling.

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan,” he said sarcastically as he paused the video, “you can say it was a mistake, a slip, but it is a very telling mistake, one I’m sure your husband would understand and excuse. Jon would know you really loved him if he could only hear you.”

Harry restarted the video, and Lindsay heard her detailed recounting of her pleasures with Mark.

“Yes, I imagine you would like me to send him tonight’s show as well as the photos of your window performance that night with Mark. That would convince him of your devotion.”

“It’s convinced me,” he said as he slipped his left hand under her pussy,” after all, this puddle underneath you must be tears of contrition for your deeds.”

“Strange, though,” he continued as he took his hand from her crotch,”that it seemed to flow from your slit while you confessed. It couldn’t be that you’re feeling like a slut all over again, could it?”

“No, you’re definitely a poor wife who made one little mistake,” he taunted her as he ran his fingers over her lips, giving her a taste of her own juices. “I’ll just get all this to Jon so he understands.”

He paused and then added, “Unless, of course, you continue to do as I say.”

He tested her, knowing what her answer would be. “Stand up and turn around,” he demanded, and she did.

“Finish your drink!” and she did.

He took the glass from her and placed it on the bar. From the dresser he drew another black silk scarf, a match to the one covering her eyes.

“Put your hands behind your back!” was his next order, and when she did, he bound one wrist to the other with the scarf.

He stepped back, then, and squatted behind her. All of a sudden he grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs out from under her. He enjoyed her little scream as she fell uncontrollably forward, landing face down, uninjured, on the cushion of the ottoman. He held her legs up as he took his seat again, and let her bend at the knees so she was kneeling on his thighs with her bottom up at his chest.

“You still don’t think you’re a whore, though,” he asked, “do you? Yet here again you turn your body over to a stranger who offers you the right price. Just what do you think a whore is, Mrs. Morgan?”

Harry looked at her dripping pussy, and slid his middle finger through her slit and thrust it straight into her pussy.

“That’s some hot and wet cunt for a woman who regrets cheating on her husband,” he mocked as he twisted his finger around inside her.

He added another finger and another, and explored her hole with all of them, twisting and turning inside her, stretching her pussy from one side to the other, and searching for the sweet spot in the roof of her cunt. Harry noted that she had yet to struggle against him, or even protest his invasion of her most intimate of places.

 

[justmethatswho]

The situation had Lindsay's mind going in many directions. This was so wrong, yet exciting. Her mind raced at the possibilities of the evening. She honeslty could not have answered why she had come this far. It would have been so simple to admit her wrong, the consequences inferior to what she found herself in at the moment. Yet the raw excitement pulled her even deeper in.


“So, Mrs. Morgan,” Harry said as he fiddled with his laptop, “just what is it you really regret, cheating on Jon, or Jon himself?”

"Umm I do .. not understand ..." Lindsay's lips quivered as she spoke "I ... I do not regret Jon." She hoped the answer would satisfy him. " I ... I really love him."

She then heard a shuffling sound, and then her own words echoed in her ears. She listened as if hearing the words for the first time. The sound of her own words sound more erotic than when she spoke the words.

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan,” he said sarcastically as he paused the video, “you can say it was a mistake, a slip, but it is a very telling mistake, one I’m sure your husband would understand and excuse. Jon would know you really loved him if he could only hear you."

Lindsay knew there was no way Jon would understand. His heart would be broken if he found out what she had done. She regretted hurting him, it had never been her intent, yet the seductive draw of her actions was difficult for her to resist.

"What I said was the truth, yet I know it would destroy my husband if he where to discover what I have done." Her words at nearly a whisper, as she dreaded admitting the error of her ways.

“Yes, I imagine you would like me to send him tonight’s show as well as the photos of your window performance that night with Mark. That would convince him of your devotion.”

“It’s convinced me,” he said as he slipped his left hand under her pussy,” after all, this puddle underneath you must be tears of contrition for your deeds.”

She remained silent unsure of a response, her ears keyed on the mans voice trying to place it in her mind.

“Strange, though,” he continued as he took his hand from her crotch,”that it seemed to flow from your slit while you confessed. It couldn’t be that you’re feeling like a slut all over again, could it?”

"No no no." Lindsay could not admit she enjoyed how she felt at the moment, he was well aware of the answer as was she even though she denied it with her words. She was well aware her body was displaying her pleasure of the moment.

“No, you’re definitely a poor wife who made one little mistake,” he taunted her as he ran his fingers over her lips, giving her a taste of her own juices. “I’ll just get all this to Jon so he understands.”

"It it was a mistake." Then she felt his fingers tease her lower lips. Her mody teansed as her legs parted slightly hoping he would give her a pleasurable touch. Realizing her actions she pulled her thighs together.

She reacted to his command as a willing servant. She turned for him as requested, then finished her drink. She had already felt the effects of the alcohal. It had eased her inhibitions somewhat, though she would not have needed it, being drunk would give her some semblence of denial of her actions.

As she turned, she felt his forceful hand on her wrist, then he bound her wrists behind her. She had never been bound in real life, though imagined being in a situation like this often. She would often as Jon made love to her, push her hands through the rails of the headborad, clasping her hands together imagining she was bound as he made love to her. Her breaths jumped as be bound her wrists, more from excitement than fear.

“You still don’t think you’re a whore, though, do you?"

"I am n..." Lindsay began her denial, yet he cut her off. He heard her chuckle at her pause.

"Yet here again you turn your body over to a stranger who offers you the right price. Just what do you think a whore is, Mrs. Morgan?”

"A whore is paid for the use of her body .... I was never paid!" Lindsay tried to believe her own words

Harry looked at her dripping pussy, and slid his middle finger through her slit and thrust it straight into her pussy.

As his finger entered Lindasy moaned, as her desires were touched. Her moan was no way mistakeable for anything but pleasure.

“That’s some hot and wet cunt for a woman who regrets cheating on her husband,” he mocked as he twisted his finger around inside her.

“That’s some hot and wet cunt for a woman who regrets cheating on her husband,” he mocked as he twisted his finger around inside her.

Words which Lindsay should have found offensive where anything but at the moment. The harsh words only increased her sensual desire. She should have at least asked him to stop, yet the fear he would oblige kept her from asking. She did not want him to stop, she wanted to feel him. As his second finger entered her she moaned again, he twisted his fingers inside of her. She bit her lip trying to hide her pleasure. The combination of the alcohal, bound arms and excitement made her knees week as she tried to adjust to maximize the pleasure the stranger gave her.

"Please ... Please . .... Pl e a se ..." Her words faded. She could have gone anywhere with the words, yet she knew what she wanted, yet was still afraid to ask for.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry kept her in that position as he continued to play with her pussy, twisting his fingers here, curling them there, and, occasionally, just thrusting them as deep into her vagina as he could. He played silently, relishing the wet sounds that his fingers made inside her and savouring even more the sound of her sighs and moans. He watched as well, enjoying the sight of her bottom upraised to him, a beautiful ass atop silky thighs and a lovely, inviting pussy, the folds of its labia wrapped round his fingers.

Her moans told him she sought an orgasm, and was near to having it. He played to that tune, then, driving his four fingers in and out, more and more rapidly, dragging her labia out and then pushing them in so they’d pull on her clitoris and add to the pleasure that his fingers were so clearly and so audibly giving her. On one thrust in, he felt her sheath tighten and sensed her body beginning to arch; she was an instant away from cumming.

Harry pulled his fingers right out of her at that moment, and slapped her hard on the ass with his dripping hand. Her surprise was evident, and her orgasm was clearly aborted. She lay there on his lap, her body trembling uncontrollably, thrown out of control by the orgasm that never came.

“It’s not as easy as that, Mrs. Morgan,” he said, “or should I be more familiar, and call you Lindsay. After all, you’re being quite the slut for me.”

“Lindsay it will be, then,” he resumed, “you can’t expect me to let you cum so easily. You’re here for my pleasure, not yours. If you get some, all the better, but I want to savour your slutiness as much as I can.”

He dropped her on the chair as he stood to fix himself another drink, and watched as she laid there until the twitching from her missed orgasm subsided. Then he sat and again picked up her bottom to face him.

“You have quite the enticing backside,” he said as his hand glided over the smooth skin of her rounded buttocks, “I can see why your friend Mark didn’t hesitate to give you a good roll in the hay. And your pussy, yes, it’s quite lovely piece of work, with its sopping wet lips and eager clit.”

Now he started playing with her again, running his fingers up and down her slit and toying with her clit. He seized it between his finger and thumb, and pulled, stretching it as far as he could and then twisting it.

“Do you like the way I play with you, Lindsay?” he taunted. Does your glistening little clit like it rough?”

He continued to play as he listened to her moans and groans, her sighs and cries, and other sounds he had no name for. He slipped his fingers inside her again, one at a time, pressing down on the sweet bundle of nerves in the roof of her pussy with each one until all four massaged her spot. His other hand began to play outside her hole, revisiting her furrow and pressing on her clit. He was bringing her back to the verge of orgasm again, and this time, perhaps, he might let her cum.

She said nothing, though, only uttering the sounds of her pleasure, and so he forced his thumb, and then the whole of his hand inside her. Her cry at the intrusion was intensified when he balled his hand into a fist and began pumping in her pussy, stretching it as he drove in and pulled back.

Again he gradually increased the speed of his strokes until he felt her again tensing for an orgasm. He kept his hand in a fist as he tore it out of her hole, listening for the undertones of pleasure and frustration as well as pain as his fist burst free. And before her cry ended he rammed his thumb into her tiny, tightly puckered asshole.

He smiled to feel her anal ring convulse around his digit, and smiled more as he felt the convulsions spread in waves of sexual frustration through the rest of her body. He left his thumb in her as he shoved the other fingers back into her pussy, and lifted her bottom with this grip as he stood once more.

Her ass was up in the air, held by her holes, and her face was pushed into the cushion of the ottoman. Harry wrapped the fingers of his other hand around her bound wrists and raised her from the footrest. Lindsay was swinging in the air, with her arms pulled painfully behind her and her ass and pussy held tight by his hand, and her tormentor held her there a minute to enjoy her plight.

A few steps, and Harry tossed her, face down, onto the bed.

“You say you’re not a whore,” he declared. “We’ll see about that another time. Nowlet’s see jsut how much of a slut you are.”

“I’m sure you wanted to cum,” he taunted her, “but it didn’t quite work out that way. Now you can cum if you really want to.”

“All it takes,” he offered, “is being a real slut. Beg me to fuck you. Twist and turn to offer me your cunt. Beg me to stuff it. Beg me and show me how much you want my cock inside you. If you convince me, I’ll fuck you until you cum like you never came before.”

He freshened his drink as he waited for her implorations to begin.

 

[justmethatswho]

Lindasy lay on her back her legs parted to invite the dtrnger to take her. She had heard his words and felt herself as she brought her near climax twice. Aas she waited she sensed her loneliness and desire.

She was intoxicated not only from the alcohal but her own carnal desires. Desires which had grown out of control since her first liason. She paused hoping he would simply fill her fucking he as she wanted. Yet he would not. 'fuck me' she whispererd softly.

Agian she remained still in hope. Finally she slosed her legs lying them to her left side. She urged her breasts up. Then began to speak. 'you know i desire to be fucked. You could do as you please yet need me to beg. I am like an addict in need of a fix. My drug is sex my high my orgasm. I am addicted. I am your .....slu....t.' she shuddered at her words.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry stood as he watched Lindsay shift on the bed, turning on her side to speak, and quietly dropped his slacks. The bed was high, with an oversized, pillow topped mattress, and it left Lindsay’s pussy a little below his cock. He smiled as she asked to be fucked.

“That’s right, Lindsay,” he taunted, “you’re my little slut, just dying to be fucked senseless by any cock that’ll have you.”

He leaned over, letting his stiff dick rest on her thigh, and pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“It was nice of you to offer me your tits like that,” he said as he pulled and twisted her nipple. “And such nice, big swollen nipples. Shows you really are a slut.”

He gave a final pull on her tit and then released her nipple. His hand then found its way under her waist, and he lifted her up as she lay on her side.

“Is this what you wanted, slut,” he laughed, and pulled her to him so her pussy slid onto his cock. Harry moaned with pleasure as his thick organ was engulfed, her hole made tighter by closed legs.

He stood still, pumping her up and down his cock as he grew stiffer and her body, with her arms bound, bounced helplessly on the bed.

“Feel good, Slut?” he asked as he bounced her harder and faster. “That tight, wet cunt of yours sure feels good to me.”

On the next bounce, Harry flipped her onto her back and pushed her legs up to her head. Her hips were raised, then, even more because her arms were bound under her, and his cock pushed hard into the roof of her pussy with each thrust into her.

“Found your sweet spot, slut?” he asked as she began to tremble, and he thrust harder and faster.

As she came, Harry pulled his cock out and left her quivering in a half finished orgasm.

He let go of her legs and stepped back from the bed.

“If you’re a real slut and want the rest of it, come get it,” he said, adding, “and if you’re good, I might just let you have my load.”

He sat facing her on the swivel chair from the desk, waiting for her to find his cock and wondering what she would do once she did.

 

[justmethatswho]

His words urgered her emotions. She was overcome with desire, yet she would rather he would just take and fuck her. She waited in hope he would do so, yet the room was silent. She rolled to the edge of the bed, pulling her legs up and off the edge. She pulled her self up with difficultly as her arms were bound behind her.

She finally stood a bit wobbly, on her first step she fell to her knees, Yet she moved slowly to her feet. As she walked she made an effort to sway her hips, though she could not see, she wanted him to desire her. Blindfoled she struggled, yet soon found herself standing between his legs.
Slowly Lindsay turned, her ass toward, him. She spread her legs, pinching his knees together. She paused, as she sensed the smell of sex in the room.

Lindsay eased herself to sit on his lap, her hands felt his stiff cock, which only increased her desire. She carressed it for a moment, and then lifted herslef, guiding the unkown man's cock into her pussy.

"Oh fuck me." She pleaded, knowing she had answered his quesitions of what she really was.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry laughed, mocking Lindsay as she struggled to get up from the bed.

“Nice footwork, slut,” he commented as she fell to her knees, “it makes you tits bounce nicely.”

He was impressed, though, at how quickly she rose to her feet and how quickly she had found him.

“That’s good, slut,” he said as she straddled his legs and turned, lowering herself so her bond hands could fondle his swollen cock. Those fingers feel real nice on my prick.”

His cock was still throbbing from the fucking he had just given her, and he moaned as she slid her pussy over his aching shaft.

“Sweet, Mrs. Morgan, very sweet,” he said as her pussy settled down around his root. You are one great slut. Look at this, blindfolded and bound, but you found me with hardly any trouble. You must like cock so much that you have a built in GPS for stiff pricks.”

“You want me to fuck you, slut?” he said in response to her request. “I already fucked you. Gave you quite the orgasm, too, didn’t I?” He paused and added, well, most of an orgasm, but I assure you I didn’t get off by pulling out of your loose wet hole.”

“I think it’s time you fucked me, Lindsay,” he told her. “Let’s have you twist and turn and slide your hot cunt all over my prick until it fills you with jism.”

Harry leaned back a bit and pushed his hips up to shove his cock even deeper inside her, and said sharply, “Here’s something to help get you started!”

With that, his palm came down hard on the side of Lindsay’s ass, making her jump and flinch.

“That’s good, slut,” he said, and hit her twice more.

“How about something a bit different,” he asked mockingly, and his fingers began running up and down her sides, wriggling into her armpits and down over her belly. Lindsay began to laugh uncontrollably.

“So you’re very ticklish, Mrs. Morgan,” he asked, “does your husband tickle you to get your cunt to dance all over his cock? I sure like the way it gets you dancing for me. I bet your pussy likes the way it feels too.”

Harry kept tickling her until she was gasping for breath. Then he suddenly reached down and grabbed her ankles. He yanked them back and up, sending Lindsay’s upper body flying forward. With her hands tied behind her, her face might have smashed into the floor, but Harry kept his legs together, and she came to rest with her tits on his knees and her face caught between his shins.

“That felt so good, Lindsay,” he commented, “the way your cunt pulled so hard up my cock as you fell. You’re a real slut; I bet you liked the excitement of falling and feeling your cunt ride over my cock.”

“Now, get back up,” he ordered, adding, “I’ll give you a little help.”

Harry grabbed her bound wrists and lifted them upwards, straining her arms at her shoulder blades. Then he pulled backwards as Lindsay wriggled and twisted to sit up again and take the strain from her shoulders. When she was stable on his lap again, he spoke.

“Now you’ve got the idea, slut,” he told her, “It’s time for you to work that wet cunt of yours on my prick. You can cum if you want to, but don’t you dare stop until you’ve made me shoot my load up your hot pussy.”

Harry leaned back, and waited for Lindsay to do as she was told.

 

[justmethatswho]

Linsay felt the smack on her ass, her reaction was unexpected as the stinging sensation hieghted her desire. Soon he tickled her the contrast aslo stimulated her desire.

As the man talked of her husband and colled her names, she craved what was to become. Her mind asked herelf if she really was a slut. If she were abled to see her reflection in the mirror her question would be answered with an astounding YES.

WIthout notice he pushed her forward, he felt her let go, she screamed as she felt herself falling, her hands still bound behind her, she was unable to brace herself. Her muscles contracted, including the walls of her pussy around his cock. As suddenly as she fell she stopped. She could almost feel her breath bouncing from the carpet as he pulled her back. It had not ccoured to her what she feared most, was not her beautiful face hitting the carpeted floor, yet the fear the man was done with her and denying her what she wanted most.

He then tod her if she wanted it to work for it, she immediately continued to ride slowly up and down on him. Conttracting the walls of her pussy each time she rose.

It was not long and she felt his cock pulse. "Cum in me, please fill me with your seed, I need it and crave to hav it." She felt the warm gush. "Mmmm" she moaned in pleasure as his hut cum, began to fill her hott pussy as she continued to ride the assailent.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“Very nice, Mrs. Morgan,” Harry said as a last load of cum oozed into her pussy, “you are quite the slut.”

He pulled her hair as he spoke, and she fell back onto his chest. With her arms tied behind her, her breasts were completely exposed and thrust outward, and Harry didn’t hesitate to take advantage of her position. His hands each quickly encircled a breast, close to her chest and squeezed hard to push them out further from her body.

“You do have nice big tits, Mrs. Morgan,” he taunted, “does your husband like to squeeze them like this?”

As he spoke, he pushed his hands away from her chest, stretching her breasts as far as he could.

“And do you beg him to do this?” Harry asked as he let his hands slip over her breasts to catch her still-stiff nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He pulled and twisted her nipples, stretching and contorting them in a dozen different ways.

“A real slut would, you know,” he said, continuing to taunt her, “but I guess you wouldn’t want him to know what a filthy little slut you are, would you?”

He pulled her nipples out until he had her sitting up again, then he suddenly released them, letting her tits fall and bounce back onto her chest.

“Now,” he ordered sharply, “stand up!”

As Lindsay stood, a mixture of her juices and Harry’s cum flowed from her pussy and down over his cock.

“Let’s see if you’re as good a house wife as you are a slut,” he said. “You’ve spilled something all over my cock. Don’t you think you should clean it up?”

“Now, that’s a real slut of a housewife, Mrs. Morgan,” he mocked as she licked him clean, “but I bet you don’t give your husband a cleaning like that. Maybe you should be a bit more attentive at home.”

Harry picked up his camera from the table and began snapping pictures of Lindsay lapping at his cock. “I could send these to your husband, so he’d know just what you can do.”

He had Lindsay stand again after she finished, and he left her there while he washed up and packed up his things. With everything ready to go, he untied her hands and threw her down on the bed.

“Now, Lindsay, my dirty little slut” he said, “I’m leaving. You can get washed and dressed after I’m gone. And don’t forget to bring the key back to the front desk when you leave. If you forget, I’ll be sure to send your hubby all the nice pictures of you.”

Harry had also packed up Lindsay’s clothes, except for her purse, and left her an outfit that would make a cheap streetwalker look as pure as a nun. There was a nice little stretch lace tube top, about three inches wide, a matching skirt, about five inches wide, open-crotch fish net pantyhose, and a pair of seven-inch black stilettos for her to parade in as she left via the front desk.

“And remember,” Harry said as he went out the door, “I’ll be calling for you again, and you be sure to come when I do.”

 

[justmethatswho]

“Very nice, Mrs. Morgan,” Harry said as a last load of cum oozed into her pussy, “you are quite the slut.”
The harsh words echoed through her body. "no" was all she could whisper

He pulled her hair as he spoke, and she fell back onto his chest. With her arms tied behind her, her breasts were completely exposed and thrust outward, and Harry didn’t hesitate to take advantage of her position. His hands each quickly encircled a breast, close to her chest and squeezed hard to push them out further from her body.

At her whisper, she felt the sudden jolt as he pulled her defenseless body back. Convincing herself there was little she could do to avoid his aggressive actions. As his hands felt her breasts, he groped her firmly. She groaned as he squeezed, though in what should be a painful sound, somehow seemed pleasurable.
“You do have nice big tits, Mrs. Morgan,” he taunted, “does your husband like to squeeze them like this?”

In truth her tits were more smallish than big, at best a small c, more likely b. Though her breasts flattered her body as her breasts were firm as a college coed. She liked that look on herself versus large breast that sagged. As he squeezed again, he asked if her husband treated her like he was. "No no he does not." she whispered between pleasurable moans. He rarely touched her anymore, sex was basic with him. Lindsay wondered as this stranger desired her so, why her husband had appeared to lose interest in her, or had she lost interest in him with her new found flings

As he spoke, he pushed his hands away from her chest, stretching her breasts as far as he could.

“And do you beg him to do this?” Harry asked as he let his hands slip over her breasts to catch her still-stiff nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He pulled and twisted her nipples, stretching and contorting them in a dozen different ways.

Her breasts became his own playtoys as he groped her, pushing them together and finally apart. "Owwwwee." she aqueaked like a school girl. He lightly twisted her nipples in his fingers as her body tensed he would ease, as she eased he would apply more pressure. She wanted to ask him for more, she wanted to ask what it would take for him to fuck her again, yet she remained silent. "He barely recognizes me." she whispered about her own husband. It was a bit of a lie, he did love her and recognize her, yet, she could not speak the truth, and admit she was the one who desired to be promiscous.

“A real slut would, you know,” he said, continuing to taunt her, “but I guess you wouldn’t want him to know what a filthy little slut you are, would you?”

"i ... I ... noo." she answered unsure what to say. Maybe if he had treated her like her assailent was she would never had wandered. Her husband could have been the one to discover her desires. "I am notttt aaaa sl...uttt"
He pulled her nipples out until he had her sitting up again, then he suddenly released them, letting her tits fall and bounce back onto her chest.

“Now,” he ordered sharply, “stand up!”
As Lindsay stood, a mixture of her juices and Harry’s cum flowed from her pussy and down over his cock.

She felt his warm juices fill her, her own moisture mixed with his oozed from her hot sex. It was what she had craved, now he hadgiven it to her. A naughty feeling filled her soul with satisfaction.

“Let’s see if you’re as good a house wife as you are a slut,” he said. “You’ve spilled something all over my cock. Don’t you think you should clean it up?”

Lindsay knew wat was expected of her. Unwillingly she eased from his stiff rod still impaing her. "I am so sorry" she whispered though there was little she could have done to prevent this. As she stood her knees were wobbly, she was thankful of his hands on her hips as he turned her, she obediently fell to her knees. As soon as her lips touched his cock he began to humiliate her with his words.

“Now, that’s a real slut of a housewife, Mrs. Morgan,” he mocked as she licked him clean, “but I bet you don’t give your husband a cleaning like that. Maybe you should be a bit more attentive at home.”

His words should have been a complete rurnoff yet all his words did was increase her desiere and she strived to pleae him. She had always considered herself an independant strong willed person. Yet at this moment her will was to please this man she had known for only a few hours. His words were true, she had never offered herself to her husband as she was doing now. What would he think of her if she had? In fact she had not sucked his cock in well over two years. She was not as attentive as she should have been at home, yet she was happilly married, or was she.

Harry picked up his camera from the table and began snapping pictures of Lindsay lapping at his cock. “I could send these to your husband, so he’d know just what you can do.”

Lindsay heard the familier sound of the click of the digital camera. The clicking echoed in the room so quiet in the night. He threatened to send the photos to her husband. She shook her head no no no, even with her lippes still holding his cock.
He had Lindsay stand again after she finished, and he left her there while he washed up and packed up his things. With everything ready to go, he untied her hands and threw her down on the bed.
As he eased her up, his cock slid with a small popping sound from her lips. Her arms ached at the freedom of movement.

“Now, Lindsay, my dirty little slut” he said, “I’m leaving. You can get washed and dressed after I’m gone. And don’t forget to bring the key back to the front desk when you leave. If you forget, I’ll be sure to send your hubby all the nice pictures of you.”

She listened intently to his words, she had hoped to sleep the night away, yet that was no longer an option. He led her to the bathroom, as she entered he closed the door behind her. She stood silent and motionless for minutes, instead of letting her arms at her sides, she held her arms behind her.

It was not until she head the door to the room open and close that she finally removed her blindfold. The lights glistened off her sweaty body. Guilt immediately filled her. What had she done, how could she have done this. Maybe it would be best to admit to her husband what she had done, and beg his forgiveness. She was so wrong to be like she had. Why, she never had before found sex such an alure. Tears filled her eyes, as the steam from the shower filled the room.

The hot water carressing her body, she rubbed her elbows and wrists that had been bound, still light red markds reminded her of her bindings. She showered for nearly an hour trying to wash away her guilt. She completely dried her body and hair before returning to the room to find what he had left her.

Harry had also packed up Lindsay’s clothes, except for her purse, and left her an outfit that would make a cheap streetwalker look as pure as a nun. There was a nice little stretch lace tube top, about three inches wide, a matching skirt, about five inches wide, open-crotch fish net pantyhose, and a pair of seven-inch black stilettos for her to parade in as she left via the front desk.

As she turned the corner she saw what she had left for her. "You fucker!!!" She screamed. Immediately she was thrown back under his thumb of control. There was no note but she was smart enough to realize what he wanted. The outfit was not appropriate attire for the hotel lobby and was more appropriate for a prn convention or a sleazzy strip bar. She picked the items up, throning the items toward the window over the strewn bed.

She puted for about a half hour, it was now 4:30am. "I have to do it, I don't have a choice." she taleked to herself. As she wiped the tears from her eyes she picked up the items. "How the fuck am I suppse to walk in these." she yelled as she picked up the 7" stilettos. "Fuck him, I wil show the bastard."

Lindsay dressed, finally noticing the open crotch on the fishnets, shaking her head. Next she pulled on the skirt, finally setting it low on her hips. covering herself as best she could. Though she was certain as she walked, her ass would be on display. Next the tube top, so small and thin as she pulled it up the bottom of her petite breasts bulged, for all to see. She settled showing slightly more of the tops of her breasts then the bottom. She sat in the chair, to put on the shoes, "Fucking Men" she mumbled, as she eased up, slowly to maintain her balance.

As she moved slowly through the room to practice in the heels, she moved to the bathroom to apply her makeup. To play the part she applied, bright read lipstick along with dark eyelinger and much heavier makeup than she had ever worn. She took the hairdryer out to fluff her hair, settling on a poofy look. As she looked at herself in the mirror she did not see Lindsy but did see a whore, slut, bitch tramp, stripper of a woman. It was a look which should of frightened her, yet she smiled approval at what she had done. She did not want to look like she was some silly girl acting on a fantasy as she left. Finally at 5:30am She gathered her things and left the room.

Confidently she exited the elevator, the front desk sat accross a near empty lobby. She looked for her assailent, though she would not recognise him until he spoke, or well fucked her again. Her strides were confident and as long as she could make it, though this caused the stillettos to echo loudly as if crying for whoever was in ear shot to look at her.

The front desk was vacant at this early hour. "Excuse me." she asked with no response. "Excuse me I need to check out please." She was about to leave the key on the counter when a middle aged gentleman came to the desk. Before even he could aplogize, he ogled at Lindsay and her body. He apologized, then expleained she could of simply left the key in the room.

"Yes Mrs, Gordon, thank you for staying with us. I do hope you had an enjoyable profitable night." the clerk urged her.

Lindsay exited, she had parked accross the street, few cars moved as the city was asleep, a van zoomed by, and suddenly slowed as the man turned to gawk at what appeared to be a hooker or stripper on the corner. Suddenly she felt vulnerable, she did not wiat for the light to change to walk as she crossed the street as quick as she could in the stillettos. As she approached the other side, lights suddenly flashed, the squeak of an alarm sounded, She continued to rush toward her car when she heard. "Excuse me ma'am please stop, drop you things and place your hands behind your head." She looked back and saw an officer exiting the car, his spotlight on her.

"I ... I am .. not that type of woman." Lindsay tried to convince the officer.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Harry had found himself a secluded little spot off the hotel lobby where he wouldn’t be seen as he watched the front desk. Her matching hair and make-up styles raised a broad smile on his lips, andhe wondered what other dress-up games she might like to play. He sat there savoring Lindsay’s discomfort as she waited for the desk clerk to appear, and relished it even more as she squirmed in embarrassment while she returned the key.

“Damn,” Harry thought as the clerk told her she could have simply left the key, “I can’t play that one again.”

He watched, too as she exited the lobby, her slight unsteadiness on the fuck-me shoes emphasizing the wiggle and jiggle of her ass and tits. He shifted his seat so he could see her through the window, and was delighted at his luck in having the man in blue arrive. Harry settled in his arm chair to enjoy the show, sorry only that he couldn’t hear what was going on.

“Ma’am,” the officer said insistently, “you can tell me just what type of a woman you are after you drop your things and place your hands behind your head.”

He took a good look at her as she complied, and thought to himself “yeah, lady, you’re the type of woman I can get some fun from.”

“Step back against the car, now,” he ordered, and when Lindsay had her backside to the fender, he carefully picked up her purse and her car keys.

“Turn around and spread your feet,” he told her next, as he placed her things on the roof of the car. “It’s time for a pat-down and search for concealed weapons or substances.”

Lindsay objected, and he offered her an alternative. “Ok, then just stand there while I get back-up and a wagon. We’ll take you down to the station for the search.”

Lindsay turned as he told her to, and the man in blue put on his latex gloves, snapping them sharply so she’d know what was coming.

“Not many places to conceal anything,” he laughed as his hands began gliding over her shoulders and sides.

“Anything under here?” he asked, and he slid his hands under the back of her tube top. “Or here?”

His rubber-clad hands slid round to Lindsay’s front, lifting her top as each hand grabbed a breast. He squeezed them hard and twisted them a bit before announcing that he didn’t find anything dangerous or illegal.

His hands rode down to her hips, then, leaving her breasts uncovered.

“Bend over the hood,” he said sharply, “and keep your hands behind your head.”

The officer squatted to pat down her stocking-covered legs, and decided that the split crotch told him exactly what type of woman she was. Up and down each leg and under her wisp of a skirt, then, with maybe a bit more touch than was necessary, and he stood up behind her.

“Hiding anything in here?” he asked as he thrust two latex-gloved fingers into her pussy. “Have to make sure, Ma’am,” he added as he twirled and twisted his fingers inside her, “have to give it a thorough inspection.’

His inspection continued for a few minutes, long after it was clear there was nothing hidden there. But he had noticed one thing.

“No weapons or drugs hidden there, Ma’am,” he said politely, “but it is awfully wet.”

“Anything in here?” he asked, and poked her asshole a couple of times with the middle finger of his other hand.

Before Lindsay could respond, he shoved his finger into her ass and began to feel around in there while he kept his other fingers in her pussy.

“Well,” he said after a few more minutes of probing, “you seem clean there.” He laughed, and added, “in a manner of speaking.”

He stepped back and told her to stand up and turn around. His eyes roamed up and down her body again, stopping for a lingering look at her perky little naked tits. Then he opened the car door.

“Sit on the edge of the seat,” he ordered, “and keep your hands behind your head.”

As soon as Lindsay was seated, he stepped up to her and began looking through her purse, gradually emptying its contents on to the roof of her car. He found her wallet and opened it for ID.

“Now we’ll see who you are,” he said, adding, “and just what type of woman you are.”

“As if we didn’t know that already,” he thought to himself.

He laid her driver’s licence down on the roof and reached down to his zipper while he spoke.

“So, Ma’am,” he said as his zipper slid down, “it’s Lindsay Morgan, is it?” and then added, “Married?”

“Ok, Mrs. Morgan,” he continued as his blue-clad hand pulled is cock from his slacks and left it to dangle in front of Lindsay’s face, “now show me what type of woman you are.”

The man in blue laid his blue-gloved hands atop the car, knowing that, no matter what kind of a woman Mrs. Lindsay Morgan thought she was, she’d do what was expected to get herself out of this situation.

Harry was still watching, enjoying every moment of Lindsay’s predicament even though he couldn’t see or hear the details. He had surmised what the officer was up to when he had Lindsay sit on the edge of the seat, and now it was confirmed. She was almost completely hidden from his view by the cop’s body, but one elbow stuck out to the side of her head, and Harry could see it jerking around as Lindsay tried to get the officer’s cock in her mouth. And then, when she had succeeded, her elbow began bobbing rhythmically as her head went up and down on the cock.

The officer sighed as Lindsay’s lips found his cock and drew it into her mouth. It was already half-hard, and her first suck on it flooded it with stiffening blood. It was a big one, to be sure, and the cop relished the tightness of her mouth around it. He sighed with every stroke up and down his shaft, and grew harder with each swirl and lap of her tongue on it. He savored her sucking for over ten minutes before he felt he had to cum.

He brought his hands down from the car roof and placed them firmly on Lindsay’s hands, holding her head immobile. He pulled his hips back, drawing his cock slowly between her lips until it was almost free of her mouth. Then he pushed forward, driving his massive, swollen organ rapidly into her mouth and to the back of her throat. Another slow withdrawal followed by another hard thrust, and he began to moan.

The cop lost any sense of self control, then, and began fucking her mouth wildly, pulling out and thrusting in faster and faster as his moans became gasps and his gasps became mumbled and muttered curses. Suddenly he froze, and his body stiffened as his back arched, and he came.

His jism didn’t shoot out into Lindsay’s mouth; it was more of an ooze, like hot lava spilling slowly from a volcano. And it oozed and oozed until her mouth was overflowing with his hot, sticky cum. Then he took his right hand from behind her head and grasped his cock around the base, slowly withdrawing it between her lips. Once free, he squeezed it and stroked the shaft firmly, spewing a last plume of semen to shot through the small space between his cock and her face. It landed on her forehead, and its trail fell over her eye and down her cheek. He stuffed his cock back into his pants and zipped himself up.

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan,” he said with a touch of sarcasm, “I can see that you’re really a very good woman.”

Then he added, “Now, get yourself out off here and don’t come back. If I catch you here again, I’ll bring you down to the station and you can show the whole squad just what type of woman you are.”

As the cop left, Harry watched Lindsay clean herself off and drive away. “I wonder,” he said to himself, “if she’ll look forward to my next email or if she’ll fear it.”

 

[justmethatswho]

How had she ened up like this she wondered. Just a couple months ago she was living the typical yet boring life of a married woman. Now she found herself dressed as a cheap whore, sitting on the edge of of the seat of a police car, with a cop about to either fuck her or make her suck him off.

Her eyes darted around looking for any help, yet thankful almost, that none was found to expose her in this humiliating position. Her heart pounded, as she recalled allowing a man to fuck her, a man she did not even know. She looked up, seeing the badge and his number 1566. She could report him, she thought as his hands slipped his zipper down. Who would they believe, she was a good citizen, "oh please." her plead to stop almost seemed as if she was begging for him to take her.

Did she have a choice, not really and she knew it as her lips parted to accept her fate. She closed her eyes, sucking the mans cock as he gripped her head. "mmmm" she moaned to encourage him hoping he would finish shortly. She felt his aggression pick up, when suddenly he pushed her face back, as she opened her eyes to look, a warm spurt of his seed splashed her face. Her mouth opened in an om my god moment. Next he told her to leave. She prompty obeyed, unware as she moved swiftly her micro skirt exposed her ass.

She was a few blocks away before she started crying, it was then she realized she still had his jism on her cheeks. Tears flowed, as guilt filled her soul. What was she doing, she should not be acting like this, she should not enjoy the feeling. She convinced herself she would stop. Never again. She would stop even if it meant ......

The sun could be seen rising as she arrived home, she looked in the mirror at herself, looking at the woman who in one night had fucked one man and sucked another. She always prided herself as being a good girl, even condesending the cheap tramps who slept around, tears filled her soul.

.....

She was thankful there were no messages or emails for a few days. It's over she told herself. She made love with her husband 4 times in the following week, always basic missionary position, twice she orgasmed, as he made love to her, though she was making love to her husband, she thought of her lovers, her mind drifted to more a deeper darker moments.

The next morning she looked at her phone, hoping.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

It was time, Harry thought this morning. Enough time had passed since their last contact. It was time to summon her again.

As he dialed her work number, he mused on what might have gone through her mind after that night in the hotel. Did she think of the public humiliation? The two visits to the front desk were planned, but the arrival of the cop with her dressed like a slut was sheer luck. Did it arouse her to remember it? And in the room... All the humiliation he put her through, forcing her to accept it to preserve her marriage, did the intensity still turn her on? It didn’t really matter, though, he had the photos and videos that would compel her to return for his pleasures.

“Good morning, Mrs. Morgan.” He knew she’d recognize his voice, and he listened closely to try to sense the feelings behind her answer.

“I did so enjoy our last little date,” he said, “I hope you found it pleasurable as well. And I was wondering, have you seen that nice policeman since then?”

He gave her a moment to realize that he had watched her with the cop.

“And yes,” he continued, “I have a lovely package all gift wrapped for Mr. Morgan, if you’d like him to have a photo album and DVD so he can share the memories of your night out.”

Another brief pause, and he said, “I expect you’ll be free next Thursday night, and I may require your presence through the following day.”

It was an order, not a request, and Harry knew it would be a difficult one for her to obey. Her husband was sure to be home that night, so she would have to find an excuse for being out, possibly all night and the next day. And that day -Friday - was a work day; she would have to make some sort of plan to deal with that problem. She was a resourceful woman, he knew, and, with just over a week to prepare, that she could handle it.

“You’ll be at the River Inn outside of Middlesex at 8 p.m.,” he advised her, “come directly to Cabin E when you arrive. The door will be unlocked and you will find further instructions on the dresser.”

The River Inn was a well-known trysting place over fifty miles north of Lindsay’s town, an exceptionally well-appointed resort for wealthy men and their special women. There was a Lodge House with restaurant for those who wished to leave their rooms, but the accommodations were all private cabins, secluded from each other, and each in a scenic little nook by the river.

“You won’t want anyone noting you car’s tag number, I’m sure, Mrs. Morgan,” he went on, “so I suggest you leave your car at the commuter station and take a taxi the rest of the way.”

“If you would prefer that Mr. Morgan not receive his gift,” he offered, “you’ll bring no more than your purse with basic essentials. No change of clothes will be needed, Lindsay; I’ll provide all that you’ll require”

He paused for a full minute, giving her time to reflect on what might happen, considering the clothes he sent her home in last time.

“And one last thing, Mrs. Morgan,” he added, “you may wear what you wish, except for your underwear. You will arrive at the cabin without underpants or brassiere.”

“I expect you’ve taken note of all my requirements, Mrs. Morgan,” Harry concluded, “I’ll see you next Thursday, that is, if you wish to continue being Mrs. Jonathon Morgan.”

Harry hung up the phone and smirked, thinking of the pleasures he had in store for himself and Mrs. Morgan., and of the pleasure he’d have thinking about Lindsay’s having to live with and deal with her predicament for the next week. What would she do to arrange things, he wondered; what would she feel as the day approached.

On the Monday, Harry had a dozen long stemmed red roses delivered to her at the office. The card read simply, “...for my lovely Mrs. Morgan...;” vague enough for the office busy-bodies, but clear enough to heighten Lindsay’s tension over the impending meeting.

 

[justmethatswho]

“Good morning, Mrs. Morgan.” He knew she’d recognize his voice, and he listened closely to try to sense the feelings behind her answer.

Lindsay's mind had drifted away from her desires, though at the first word she knew it was him. Startled she remained silent.


“I did so enjoy our last little date,” he said, “I hope you found it pleasurable as well. And I was wondering, have you seen that nice policeman since then?”

"Oh my God, I am so sorry, I really had no choice, he forced me to do it." She responded, hoping not to offend him. He must have watched her, and made no attempt to help her as she added. "I am so sorry"

“And yes,” he continued, “I have a lovely package all gift wrapped for Mr. Morgan, if you’d like him to have a photo album and DVD so he can share the memories of your night out.”Another brief pause, and he said, “I expect you’ll be free next Thursday night, and I may require your presence through the following day.”

She paused prior to responding, she had meetings at work and was suppose to have dinner with her husband on Thursday evening. "Uh ... yes I can make it work." She stumbled unsure why she was doing this. Was it to protect her husband or herself.


......

She obliged his requests. All she wore was a burgundy dress with nothing under.

Dress

Parking her car the cab was waiting for her. The driver was not surprised by her request, as it must not have been a unique occurance. Though he asked about luggage and when she told him no he again asked if she would need a cab later this evening. "No thank you I have a ride." She hand him his fare and tip and paused before entering the bungalow.

This is all she had thought of for the last week. Even in meetings and talking her mind wavered to this moment. Her excitment grew in anticipation as she apporached the dimly lit door. Would she finally meet her lover or would he keep it a secret.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

The cabins at the Riverside Inn were, as one might expect, far from rustic. Each was spacious and well-appointed, and each had its own theme. Cabin E, the one Harry had reserved, was, simply enough, elegant. There was a comfortable sitting room with a fully-stocked bar, two armless stuffed chairs, a sofa, and a divan, all clearly conducive to a variety of sexual positions and activities. Beyond it was an enormous bedroom, closed from the sitting room, with an oversized circular bed covered in silk sheets, a chair, a dressing bench, and a dresser. An entertainment center, with a sixty-inch high def screen graced the wall in front of the bed, and the side walls, as well as the ceiling, were mirrored. A doorway beside the dresser led to a spacious bath, with a walk-in shower that opened onto a large spa tub.

Harry had prepared well for Lindsay’s arrival, drawing all the drapes so the cabin was in total darkness, save for the places he wanted lit. The small foyer was lit, of course, and the sitting room had a soft light, diffused throughout the room. Just before eight, Harry filled two large wine glasses, taking one with him and leaving one on the bar beside the lamp. Into the bedroom, then, for his final arrangements, and he sat, off in a corner away from the doorway, awaiting his victim’s arrival.

He heard her at the door, and wondered what she was wearing. On top, that is; he knew she’d be naked beneath her dress. He knew also she’d pick up the wine and make her way to the bedroom for her instructions.

The bedroom was in darkness when she walked in, except for the dresser. A bight spotlight shone there, focused on a piece of paper. The intensity of the light made the rest of the room seem darker than a moonless night, and Harry sat quietly in his corner, unseen, but seeing. He smiled to himself at Lindsay’s choice of dress as she stepped into the light, appreciating how well the deep burgundy color complemented her skin and on how well the smooth. Clinging cloth hinted at the naked curves beneath it.

The paper held his instructions for her. “You’re in the spotlight, Mrs. Morgan,” the paper noted, “now, play with yourself. Through your dress.”

“Yes,” it added, “you are being filmed.”

Harry had carefully placed three web cams around the room, and saw no harm in letting Lindsay know what she most likely already suspected. But Lindsay couldn’t see that Harry was there in person watching her, and he settled in to enjoy the private show.

 

[justmethatswho]

Thankfully the door was not locked, as she opened it the cabin appeared dimly lighted and she allowed a moment for her eyes to adjust, while she removed her overcoat.

She knew her instructions and followed, as she walked her heels echoed accross the wooden floors as if announcing her arrival. As intently as she listened she heard nothing but silence. When she found the bedroom it was obvious to where she should stand as there was a spotlight shining near the dresser.

As she read the note her heart jumped, from panic and excitement. The idea of him filming had not occored to her this evening. She set the note back onto the dresser and began to do as it told, before she turned. Her hands found her breast as the other slid from her chest to her hips and then her ass. Lindsay slowly turned hoping to catch a glimmer of her assailent. As she did the spot light shined brighter, causing her pupils to shrink even smaller. The room beyond was complete blackness. She licked her lips as she carressed her own breasts, her over hand had moved to her side, her fingernails digging into the dress.

As she stood she parted her legs slightly, knowing her next move. She wanted to ask who he was, but was now a performer on his stage and she did not want to jeoprodise that. Her hand carressed her thigh, as she moved it to her tummy, this time she pushed her hand down pushing her dress between her legs. As she did she groped her left breast with force, the combination of hteasing her own pushing and breast caused a sultry moan to escape her lips, confessing her desire to do what he pleased.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Harry announced his presence with the slow, measured cadence of applause.

“Bravissima, Mrs. Morgan!” he declared as he rose from his chair and walked slowly towards her and the light, “a truly inspiring performance.”

He took a last look at Lindsay, at her dress, crumpled around her breast and dark with moisture between her hips, and then pressed the switch on the remote. He moved quickly in the sudden darkness, grabbing a shock of hair in his right fist and pulling her face to his. A kiss, then, hard and hot on her lips, his tongue meeting little resistance as it thrust into her mouth, and the fingers of his left hand wrapped around her throat, tightening their grip as his tongue tested every surface in her mouth. The pressure on her arteries, he knew, would bring her towards a faint, and he released his hold as he felt her knees weaken.

His hand found her breast and grasped it firmly, twisting and squeezing it as he continued to kiss her. Down, then, slowly and roughly over her abdomen, her dress clinging to her lust-sweated flesh, and between her legs. Harry grabbed her pussy and squeezed hard, pressing the heel of his hand on her mound while his fingers shoved her dress between her labia and into her dripping vagina. His fingers twisted and probed as he squeezed, and his tongue matched them as it probed Lindsay’s mouth.

He broke off the kiss suddenly and placed a hand on each of her hips. Up went her dress, sliding all the way to her waist, and then up she went as Harry lifted her to sit on the edge of the dresser. He quickly undid his fly and took out his swollen cock, bringing it to her pussy. His hands were on her hips again, and this time he pulled her sharply towards him, impaling her on his stiffened rod. He held her there, then, and began driving in and out, slowly savoring the warmth and wet of her pussy as his cock head and shaft rode her.

Harry sensed that his plaything was about to cum; he stopped and held her still. When he felt her pussy relax around his shaft he began thrusting again. And again he stopped as she was about to explode. He started again, and after a few strokes, the doorbell rang.

Harry stopped and withdrew his cock from Lindsay’s pussy.

“I wonder who that could be, Mrs. Morgan,” he taunted as Lindsay trembled with arousal.

“Be a good girl, now, and answer it,” he continued, “and do be polite, Mrs. Morgan; invite our visitor in.”

Harry knew it would be a bell boy from the lodge; he had ordered a light dinner for them for just this reason. And he picked the bell boy as well, a young, good-looking, virile chap who would definitely be interested in some fun. Harry knew who was there, but Lindsay didn’t, and Harry deliberately called her “Mrs. Morgan” to suggest to her sexually aroused mind that it might be her husband.

“Quick, now, Mrs. Morgan,” he said pointedly, “let’s not keep our visitor waiting.”

The light was still on in the sitting room, and Harry followed Lindsay as far as the doorway to see what would happen when this aroused slut met the stud at the door.

 

[justmethatswho]

Lindsay moaned as the doorbell rang, she was close, as she pushed herself back hoping to allow herself the satisfaction of a climax her lover withdrew, leaving her lusting for the moment of extasy.

She could tell he had selected the phrase Mrs Morgan deliberatrly as he instructed her to answer the door. Her knees were week from passion as she walked as though she was drunk. Her hips had added sway as she sashayed to follow his direction. She looked back answering the door, wondering who it was. There was fright on her face, yet she knew she had little choice but to answer the door.

Prior to opening the door, Lindsay tried to right herself. Patting her dress down, making sure she was covered. Inspite of the cool weather she was quite hot, her breath was short as if she had run a mile. The smell of desire shrouded her presence.

The door made little sound as she pulled the door open, slowly, she breathed a sigh of relief seeing it was the bell boy. Though he was stunningly geourgous. "Please come in." She motioned as she held the door for him, he handed her the card and she signed her name Lindsay Morgan. She tried to pull it back, but it was too late. She should have signed anything but her real name.

As she moved back in the room, she closed the door behind her. She looked to see her lover, yet could not, as she turned to the bell boy, she realized she would be the main course tonight as a shrill of excitement filled her soul.