My Wife Doesn't Know... (FM Rich Bond)

[psiberzerker]

Author

I had this stuck in my head when I woke up.

So;

Vic (FM Bond NS)

I work long hours, but some nights, I just have to get out, and unwind.  Have a drink, and she said her name was "Jenna."  She came in, took her hat off, and let her hair down.  Looked exhausted, so I bought her a drink.

"Limo driver?"

"Let me guess,"  She looked me over, and I put my arm up on the bar.  "Stock broker?" Her eyes stopped on my ring finger.

"Yeah, and I'm married, but if that's a problem for you."

"Oh," she patted my hand, "No," and rubbed it, "But does your wife know about you buying strangers drinks?  I thought you're going to be an asshole, about the help drinking here, but thanks for being a gentleman about it."

"You drive a limo?"

"Towncar, no bar in back."  She finished her drink, quickly.  "You want a ride?  I don't have to call it in, it's no problem.  I'm heading that way anyway."

"Sure!"  She didn't even say which way, but if that's the way she wants to play it.  I paid, and she grabbed her hat.  Buttoned her jacket, so it flared over her generous hips, following her out to the parking lot.  Alcohol is fine, and they mix them strong for me, because I tip well, but this is what I needed, and no.

My wife doesn't know, but she prefers it that way.  She caught me once, threw me out, and called a gigolo to get back at me.  So, after that, I guess you could say we adopted a don't ask, don't tell policy.  If I don't ask what she spent the money on, at such and such hotel, she doesn't ask me which nights I work late, or when I take off early, to unwind.  

Usually not this quick, to pick up a chick, but then I thought she must need it too.  After a long day, dealing with assholes like me.  I'm not going to lie to you, she got it in 1 guess.  Insurance broker, instead of stocks, but buying, and selling debt.  She didn't even ask me how I made my money, she guessed right, or close enough as makes no difference.

I don't know if I should be ashamed of myself, or not, but that's one of the things that's been stressing me lately.  The high interest car loans bubble, after what happened in the high interest Mortgage bubble.  I survived the crash, and the crisis.  I had a safety net, but you know who didn't?  All those people who had no choice, and lost their homes to foreclosure, because of predatory investors.  Some of them lost their family homes, because that's all they had to try to pay for college.

Now, it's not like you can't live without a car, but it sure doesn't make it any easier.  If you can't afford to call a cab, towncar, or limo whenever you don't want to worry about driving home drunk.  I'm sure, but thinking of which, we made it to the garage, and sure enough.  A black Lincoln, towncar.  Nice comfortable back seats, with lots of legroom.  I didn't even notice when she took my hand, and stopped, so it was behind me.  Until she grabbed the other, and I felt hard metal clamp tight over my cuffs.  

The distinctive ratcheting, then the clink of chain links, between the handcuffs.  "Huh, what?"  I shook my head, but she just pinned my hip over the quarter panel, up against the back window with her hips.  "What are you charging me with, adultery?"

"Oh," she really had to twist, and pull at my wedding right.  She laughed, "I'm not a cop, not a whore either, but you just made it too easy.  You really are too trusting, did anyone ever tell you that?"  Next, she pushed up my sleeve, and felt the buckle of my chronograph.  

I hadn't been handcuffed, in a while.  I got in a little trouble when I was younger, it was no big deal, but I got a taste of jail, and learned my lesson.  Scared straight, I served probation, and stayed out of trouble after that, but this time, it was different.  

I never got turned on by it, that's for damned sure!  I was too scared, and ashamed, and all that came back to me, but somehow that just made it throb harder against the cold sheet steel.  "Huh, you don't have to do this.  If it's money you want."

"Shut up."

"I can pay you to let me go."  Maybe they carded her in the bar, and maybe not.  If she's not 21, then she looks really old for her age, but beautiful, and expressive.  The way she smiles self consciously, and shakes her head at herself, I couldn't help but trust her.  She seemed so sincere, but they didn't get her credit card at the bar, because I payed for our drinks, of course.  Left a big fat tip.

"I'm not fighting, and I could scream if I wanted to, but hear me out.  I just want the ring, take everything else.  Drive me to an ATM, and I can withdraw thousands, no problem, but that ring is all I care about.  It doesn't belong to me, it's my wife's, and it belonged to her grandfather.  Her father, and it is my honor to wear it until my son is old enough to get married.  I could probably have a jeweler make another one, but I don't want to do that.  It wouldn't be the same."

"Huh, fine!  Stop talking, all right?  I get it, just hold still, and let me put it back.  Here."  Halfway up my finger, it stopped at the knuckle, but I held it tight, and relaxed.  

"Huh!"  Such a relief, then finally she let me down.  Gently, sitting between the cars, and just left me.  Even though it hurt with my hands bent out, it was just such a relief to be left alone.  With my wedding ring, the handcuffs, and an erection.  I still don't know about that, sure she was hot, and I wouldn't have found myself in this predicament if I hadn't been following my cock.

She led me by it, and robbed me, left me ashamed, humiliated, and scared.  Threatened, and intimidated me, but there's nothing for it.  I have to get out of these cuffs, and ironically, the car alarm went off right next to me when I used it to stand up.

So, somebody came out, "Hey, get away from my car!"

"I'm sorry, but you gotta help me."  I turned around, to show him my hands, and hold the cuffs up out from under my jacket.

"What the hell?"

"I got lucky, or so I thought."  Laughing it off.  "She wanted to play rough, but she lost the key."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

"Call the cops?"

"All right, if you say so."  He already had his phone out anyway.  I have to think, they can open them up without power tools, and that's just what I need.  A saw ripping through, and cutting my hands off at the wrists, but damnit, it's hard enough to hide my raging erection, and even that violent bloody image with the tight metal biting into my wrists didn't make it go down.

I never understood the handcuff games, I never even had the interest to watch it, especially men.  Grown men letting a woman tie them up and humiliate them.  What the hell is sexy about that?  Hell, I still don't know, but I can't help it.  God damn it, it just is.  The cops took their sweet time too, but at least she left me my keys.  Car keys, so she didn't steal my car.  Even if she did, she would have left the company's, and I didn't even think about the license plate until the cops asked me.  I gave them a description, a black lincoln, towncar, in this neighborhood?  Any one of a Fleet, they'd have to ask around the buildings, to see who got a ride with a car service, that night.

At least they had a key to let me go.  "Huh, thanks."  I took my jacket off, and put it over my lap until they were done talking, and thank god it was 2 guy cops.  I don't think I could stand it if they were lady cops, and that didn't help.  Now, I'm just trying not to think about 2 lady cops finding me like that, and taking advantage of the situation.  Finally, they let me go, and I made it about a block before I found an alley to pull in.  Get my cock out, and beat off to relieve the pressure in my balls.  

There was a lot of it, and I felt like such a loser, as soon as it was over, but it was over.  Finally, i could think straight, and call my wife.  "Honey, you won't believe what happened to me tonight.  I got robbed," I started sobbing, as soon as I said it out loud.  Without the cops there, I managed to hold it back in front of them, but just knowing my wife was there, on the other end of the line, and so scared that she wouldn't believe me.  Until she saw the marks herself, on my wrists.  

I didn't tell her, who it was, and how much she turned me on.  She had no idea that I was into bondage, either.

At least, not yet...

[psiberzerker]

June offered to get me a referral.  I said, "No, I don't want to talk about what happened with anyone else."  Especially another man, and I know how she'd feel about me seeing another female therapist.  "I trust you."

"Yes, but this isn't my specialty."  She shook her head, "And you know about the conflict of interest."

"It doesn't have to be like that, but."  I looked down, ashamed.  "Maybe, you could pretend that it is.  Like that."

"Like what?"

"Well, obviously you've thought about dating your patients before, because that's how you met me."

"I don't make a habit of it, but I felt sorry for you.  That's why I had to stop seeing you as a patient."

So we could date, get married, have kids...  In bed right now, but I can't help feeling the brusies.  Around my wrists, and all the way up the backs of my hands from sitting down when she let me go.  Handcuffed in the garage, she just drove off, and didn't even take her handcuffs.  How did she get them in the first place?  "Do you think she robbed a cop?"

"I'm sure I don't know, but."  she took a deep breath, "Huh!"  Rolled her eyes, and shook her head, but she couldn't hold back a smile.  "I suppose being robbed is a sort of loss of Identity.  I'm going to have to talk to a specialist, to confirm that.  But I can keep your name out of it.  If you're so ashamed."

"Huh," I crossed my legs, as soon as I felt my pulse pumping into my crotch.  Felt that shame, and confusion, and the arousal that came with it.  "It.  Turned me.  On."

"What?"

"Huh, the handcuffs.  I guess I was already turned on, but it was so humiliating, and arousing at the same time, I.  Thought i got lucky, and then she surprised me with the handcuffs, but for some reason that didn't turn me off, and you want to try bondage?"

"Let me see your wrists."  She sat on the coffee table, and carefully unbuttoned my cuffs.  Gently felt the developing bruises, and holding my hands like that in her lap.  Her legs crossed, and her knee slipped out of her skirt.  Like it used to do in her office, under the desk.  I didn't want to stare, I definitely didn't want to think she shared my attraction, but she hid it so well, and I just squeezed the hardness in my lap even harder.  Until my balls ached, knowing I'd have to jerk off to release it, but hoping it was as mind-blowing as last night.

"You're going to have to let them heal, before you try anything like that, but I'm going to have to research whether that's even a good idea.  Look, I have a professional mindset I have to maintain, and this relationship."

"Our marriage?"

"Is enough of a strain already, but yes.  I have to admit that I have been attracted to my clients before.  I just didn't want to take advantage of their grief, and I still feel guilty about taking advantage of you when you're vulnerable."

"Especially since it was my Mother who died."  Right before the Mortgage crash, which only made my nervous breakdown even worse.  

"Especially considering your relationship, with your mother."

"I told you, it wasn't like that."

"Like what?"

"Incestuous, at all."

"Oh, hahahah.  No, I wasn't thinking that.  However, your mother is instrumental in your concept of women, how you view us, and what you're attracted to, in a woman."

"You don't even remind me of her, at all.  You're nothing like her."

"Of course not.  As much as you loved her, you still have things that you resented about her."

"I know."  She helped me past that.

"Which is why you were attracted to me in the first place, you didn't want to marry your mother, but let's talk about your mistresses."

"What about them?"

"Are they all blue collar workers, like Cooks, or Chauffeurs?  But never house keepers, of course."

Of course, I can't even stand to stay in a hotel, because my parents met in one.  "I don't know, bartenders," I rubbed my chin, thinking about a shave, and "There was that Au Pair."

"I think that's probably because your father was wealthy, but your mother was working class, and she continued to work despite having money, because she liked to?"

"I suppose."  I always thought she liked cleaning, because she was obsessively neat, and she couldn't stand someone else cleaning up the house, and she fired the maid, but then again, she also went out, and cleaned other houses.  "That may be."

"So, while I'm not a sex therapist, I can't say I never thought about it."

She got up, and showed me.  The garment in the back of her side of the closet.  

The maid's uniform, and the feather duster.

"Huh!"

[psiberzerker]

"I can't do this."  Standing there in my underwear, watching my wife turn down the covers.  Covering my crotch, and feel it shriveling up so much it felt like I had a foreskin.  I swear, they tried to crawl back inside me.

"Oh, don't worry about it."  She went back to the closet, and took it off.  "Too much like your mother?"

"She didn't dress like that.  If she even had that outfit, I never saw it."

"Well, don't worry about your erectile dysfunction, that can lead to hysterical impotence."

"I'm not."  Impotent.  "Hysterical."

"It doesn't mean that," even coming out in her black bra, matching panties, garter belt, stockings, and white shoes.  Normally, that would be enough for a raging erection.  "Of course, the term is based on the pseudoscientific sexism that had women swooning for years.  Huh!"  She lay back, with her hand to her forehead.  Sighing, and grinning I just had to laugh with her.

"Why do you even have that outfit?"

"Do you really want to know?"

Which of my friends like to fuck her, "Not really."  Dressed up to play at cleaning their houses?  

"Well, help me out of these things."  I joined her in bed, and started with her bra.  The same loops, and hooks on the back of the garter belt, matched set, then she rolled back to lift her legs.  Roll down the thigh high stockings.  "Huh, it's just such a turnon.  I had hoped that you could finally see past your.  Issues."

"What, cleaning up after my friends?"

"Oh, oh no."  She held my face.  "I'd never do that to you."  Kissed me.  "I love you too much to hurt you like that."

"Then," I braced myself, "Whom?"

"Hookers, call guys mostly.  Professionals, so I don't have to worry about emotional attachments."

"Dressed up as a maid?"

"Well?  it's a good look, and it looks good on me.  I don't care about the cleaning, it doesn't turn me on like it did;"

"Huh!"  I blinked, and she stopped feeling my body.  Back and forth from my chest to my tummy.  "You don't think."

"It's a fetish?  Of course it is."

"No, I mean for my mom."

"Cleaning?  I don't know, I never met her, and diagnosis after the fact is probably worse than self diagnosis, of fucking a client."

"You remember when you promised to stay out of my head?"  She wrote it into our wedding vows.

"Mhm?  It's not as hard as I thought, it would be.  I don't want to invade your privacy."

"To remain professional."  That word, means so many things to her.  "Well, I hate to ask, but could you?"

"Get in your head again?  Probably, I doubt too much has changed over the past 17 years."

"I don't think anyone else could ever know me, as well as you do.  I trust you, and isn't it about trust?"

"Therapy doesn't work without trust."  It's like a mantra for her.

"No, kinks.  Like fetish, bondage, and."  For some reason, I choked up to barely a whisper.  'humiliation.'

"Is that what this is about?"

"I don't know, but I'm starting to think.  I was so ashamed that it somehow overpowered my fear, and at the same time I was so turned on.  I don't know whether it was her, or the humiliating situation, but she wasn't as hot as you.  Honestly, it's just the way she looked so sad, and weary in that bar.  She wouldn't tell me why, but I figure she had to drive some asshole, and I guess that's what I sympathized with.  Until she decided to rob me, and humiliate me.  Sorry, honey.  Honey?"

She was asleep.  "Huh!"  So, I kissed her, and pulled the covers up over her.  She rolled over, so I could hug her, and hold her.  Until I could sleep, but there were so many thoughts running through my head, it didn't come soon...

[psiberzerker]

"Call it a consultation," she said, "I need help."  

She's not qualified to deal with this kind of trauma, but.  "I'm just not comfortable talking to another man about it."  It's not as if I don't trust him.  Okay, it is.  I'm afraid he'll laugh in my face, because it doesn't even sound right when I say it in my head.

"I know." she patted my hand on the seat, "That's why she's not a man."

"Oh, and.  You're okay with my seeing another woman?"

"Hah, huhehin!"  He laugh broke down into giggles, and it took a while for her to stop, so i just drove.  "No, of course not.  As a matter of fact, I'd probably prefer a woman unless the man had some frame of reference.  Even the ones that specialize in victimization can't really understand what it's like, unless they've been there.  Why?"

"Well, you know.  The way we met?"

"I'm not that insecure.  Is that it, you think I'd be jealous?  I don't even want to get into your head, I'm perfectly happy here."  She felt my chest.  "In your heart, and I'm not naiïve enough to think that you'd run off with the next therapist you saw, just because she's a woman.  You need help, and I can't give it to you."

"Okay?"  Honestly, I was more worried about it than she was, when I shouldn't have been.  Of course, she knew better, because rather than the dour authoritarian ice queen I imagined, with horn rimmed glasses, and a bun.  Instead, she turned out to be a chubby middleaged woman I would have expected to try to sell me crystals, essential oils, and dreamcatchers, instead of help me through my trauma.  

"I don't know, I mostly specialize in sexual abuse cases, but if you want a consultation."  She led us back into her house, if you want to call it that.  I'd call it a bungalo, it's so tiny that I wouldn't believe that it had room for an office if you'd told me.  "Huh, honestly."  She sat down cross legged on a rug, but didn't stick her feet in her knees, or start meditating.  "I'm not aware of trauma from robbery being so acute, I know they talk about feeling violated, but compared to what i'm used to dealing with."  She took a deep breath, of stale incense smoke, and sunlight.  "I guess it'll be a refreshing change of pase."  She shrugged, and nodded smiling, "So, shoot!"

Honestly, seeing her sitting there like a hippy dippy school teacher, and her smile helped me relax, a lot.

"Well, go ahead, and tell her about your.  Reaction."  She hugged my arm, reassuringly.  "I know you told me, and this is difficult, but it's better to hear it from you.  Since you're there."

I swallowed, and nodded.  "It was hard.  I don't remember if I had an.  Erection before she put the handcuffs on, but after that.  It wouldn't go away until I beat off."

"Okay," she balanced a cclipboard on the knee, and pulled a pen out of the top.  "You mind me taking notes?"

"No, go right ahead."

"Part of your process?"  June nodded.

"So, how did you feel, when she put the cuffs on you?"

"I don't know.  Surprised, then confused."  The woman I'm married to, you get used to sharing your feelings, "Then I noticed the hardon, and I got even more.  Turned on by it."

"The handcuffs?"

"No, they hurt, but I'm starting to think that it was the shame, and humiliation itself.  The way she tricked me, I felt so stupid, and dick brained for being so easily led into a trap by the cock.  I wasn't that drunk."

"See, once he opens up, it's pretty easy to get him to talk."

She nodded, and wrote something down.  She didn't look at me, which really helped.  As much as her fat body, squished into yoga pants, and a tie died tank top, with her messy beaded hair.  No makeup, and I could see every pore in her face.  June sure knew how to pick the right one, I should have trusted her from the start.

She admitted that she was out of her depth, so I wouldn't know the first thing about finding the right person to help me deal with this.  I should have trusted her more, from the start.  I don't know what was wrong with me, to ever doubt her in the first place.

"I'm most concerned about the sexual aspect."  She pulled my hand over, to hold it, and pat it gently in her lap.  "Huh!"  Sighed, "I just don't know if it's really a good idea to get into bondage, and humilation, after what he's been through.  Especially with the damage it did to his hands."

So, she took a look at it.  Heather, it turns out she's also a Chiropodist.

"What's that?"  She explained, while she looked at my bruises.

"You know what a chiropractor is?'

"A back doctor?"

She nodded, and her glasses slipped down, but she didn't let go to push them back up.  Mumbled, "Like that, only you know that there's more joints in the hands, and feet than the rest of the body?"

She didn't even look up, so I shook my head.

"Well," June cut in, "What do you think?"

"I'd lay off the Bondage until the heal."  She held them up, by her hears.  "Try this?"  She let go, and flexed her fingers.  Twisting her wrists around and round until they crackled, and popped.  "All the way around the range of motion?"  She listened again, but not a single pop.  "I'd lay off the bondage for a while, and go slow on the humiliation, but that's the best way to narrow down the cause of his arousal."  She sat back, so June took me back to the padded step, and the cushions all around it.

"Well, I don't know how to do that, so it would help if somebody with more experience showed me?"

"Experience in what?"  I shook my head.

"BDSM," Heather nodded, with a weird smile, and took off her glasses.

"What's that?"

"Bondage, Discipline, Domination, Submission, and Sadomasochism, but that also includes Humiliation play.  Mostly under Domination, and Discipline."

"So, the letters stand for multiple things?"

"She's a Dominatrix, dear."

I shook my head.  "You don't look like a Dominatrix."

"Well, of course not."  She rolled her eyes, "I can't keep my dungeon here, for rape and incest survivors to walk past.  I keep my professional life, and my hobbies separate, but I can supervize, if you like."

"Huh, it's hard to imagine you in.  Black leather, with a whip?"

"Well, let me set up an appointment, and I'll show you."  She looked up at the clock, "But I have another client coming in later, so why don't we get back to the assault first."

"That will help her, avoid any triggers, and focus on what will most likely help you."

"Bondage, therapy?"  I'm still confused.

"Stranger things have happened," Heather nodded, and they had a laugh together.

;

Author

I tried to avoid the psychological asides, and work them into the dialog, but if you're still reading this, let me say a word about Gaslighting.

That's it.  She's not gaslighting, neither of them are.  Even his abuser didn't really.  She just saw an opportunity, and took advantage of it.  Likewise, you don't have to Blame the Victims, either.

We can handle that all on our own.

[psiberzerker]

I heard her say. "Hey, wanna do a porno?"  And stopped.

"Ew," some girl looked at her, "Lesbo."  And walked off, insulted.  Then she looked over at me, turning around.

"What about you?"  She smiled.  What the hell, right out in front of the Live Nude Girls shows.  Private Booths, and the sort of places like that.  Where guys could go in, and jerk off, behind the safety of a 1 way mirror, so I thought she was working for one of those.

"Huh, how much does it pay?"

"Well, it depends on how far you want to go."

"With you?"  Looking her up, and down, she was kind of out of place.  I was at least dressed for picking up guys, a great place to find them, horny, and lonely, like me.  Okay, I like sex, especially with no strings attached, and I know where to go to get it.

"Well, my husband if you're not a lesbian."

"Oh no, I'm bi, and willing to at least talk about, money?"

"Come on."  She had some papers, and if it wasn't for the first impression, I might have mistook her for a church lady passing out fliers on repenting from sin, and getting saved.  Not because she looked like a church lady, but because she didn't fit in that neighborhood, and their car around the block had a guy in the front seat.  Smoking, and keeping an eye out, but he opened the door, and held it for me.

"You're her husband?"  Hard to believe, because He looked like a pornstar, and I was definitely down to fuck that.  I actually shook the thought of what her husband might look like out of my head until he smiled, and shook his head.

"Boyfriend, cameraman, bodyguard."  He pointed in back, and I realized the windows weren't just tinted dark.  I had to lean down to look, but the first thing I saw was cardboard, and duct tape up over the windows, then he grunted.

"MH!"  With his hands taped together, and more wrapped around his head.  Not just over his mouth, but his eyes, and even his hair stuck out the top.

"Oh," I stood up.

"How about a hundred?"  I sat down in the passenger side, and put my foot up on the door.  Before the hunk could close it so I could run if I have to.  Right out there, in an alley, but close enough to the busy street, I could scream, and maybe run around the car fast enough to get out before thy caught me. 

"ARE THEY HOLDING YOU AGAINST YOUR WILL?"

"NWH!"  He shook his head, and the lookout looked out, but they obviously knew what they were doing.  Just standing by the open door, smoking a cigarette, nothing to do here unless somebody screams, and hits the horn.

"YOU WANT TO DO THIS, THEY AREN'T THREATENING YOU AT ALL?"

"Nwr."  Quietly, and calmly.  He sniffed in another breath, and held up his hands.  His arms, which were covering up his lap, but then I saw his cock.  Red, and swollen, with big veins sticking out, and the skin stretched tight over his balls, with some metal glinting out around the sides between them.

"Huh!  Yeah, you're on."  She handed me the clipboard, and the guy got out his phone.  Asked me, "You're over 18, right?  You have some ID you can show me?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to use my real name, if that's okay."

"Yeah, we understand that, but honestly, this isn't going anywhere."

The wife leaned over the door frame, "What he's trying to say is that this isn't for profit, it's just for us.  My husband, and I, it's not going on the internet, we're not even going to sell copies to the sex shops.  It's just for us."

"Oh."

"I'm a pro, but they didn't want to use a professional.  She wanted an amateur."

"I honestly don't even want to know your name, if that's all right with you."

"So, what do you want me to do?"  He finished taking pictures of my ID, and handed it back.

"Get in the back, and then whatever you want to do to him.  It's all right, he can take it.  He loves pain, and humiliation, don't you?"

"Mh hm!"

"Just don't take off any of the tape, or any of the bindings."

"Okay."  I got in back, and she sat in the passenger seat.  I guess the cameraman is also a driver, because he went around, and pulled out.  On the street, the lights flashed through the windshield, but in between them it was darker, with splashes of colors from the marquees, flashing signs, and people trying to entice men to come in.

Whack off to girls behind glass, or whatever.  I thought that was pretty cool, but this.  I guess I knew that some people were into it, if not anyone who was actually into it before.  Most of my friends are pretty vanilla, and the few I could tell about that night probably wouldn't believe it, but I felt like I hit the big time.

If I'm lucky, and perform well, I might even get to keep doing it, either with them, or that porn guy with the hot bod, and the spandex shirt to show it off.  "Well, how about a hand job for a hundred bucks?  If he wants some pussy, you know that's worth a lot more, right?"

"Of course, it's negotiable."

"How about it," I had to yell in the front seat, but right by the tape over his ears, I couldn't whisper, but just to see, I cocked my finger with my thumb, and gave him a thump right on the end.

"NGM!"

"You want a handjob?"

"Mhm!"

"You like it hard?"  I squeezed it, amazed at how hard it really was.

"Yeah, beat his balls hard, but don't let him cum.  Not too soon, amke it last, and bust his balls really hard, yeah!"

Holy shit, she turned into a fucking cheerleader!  "Mhn snh!  Nyrh!"  He really did like me busting his balls!

I couldn't help giggling, and giving him a couple quick strokes before I let go and slapped it. 

"OWH!  Snh MH!"  He jumped with a slap to his balls, tied together like a brain, and I could see the cock ring, but a little drop peed out, and for a second there I thought it was just a fals alarm.  Something I could rub around with my thumb, holding it, and twisting it like a joystick, then jerking my hand up so hard it slipped off, and made him jump again. 

"Omghmhin!  this is so much fun!"

"You've never done anything like this before?"

"Well, handjobs, and a little bondage, but a stranger tied up in the back seat, and hurting him"  I shook my head, "I never met a guy that liked to get hurt so much, but am I doing all right?"

"You're doing fine.  Now you know why we prefer amateurs to professionals.  Porn stars, dominatrixes, and prostitutes?"

"Well, i wouldn't call myself a pro, but it sure isn't the first time I did it for money.  Just the first time I got to do something so kinky, and cruel!"

"But you like it?"

"Yeah, I like it a lot!"

I'm not sex positive, I'm a slut, and a whore.  You know why?  Because sex positive doesn't sound dirty enough, and the best sex is dirty.  At least it is for me, but I never ever got to have rough sex, where I got to do whatever I want before.

I always thought I would enjoy it.

"Uh!" He grunted, and snorted.  Sniffing, and shooting his wad all over the front of his shirt.

"Couldn't hold it, huh?"  She leaned over to smack him, and grab his mouth through the tape.  "Just couldn't last until we got home?" 

He shook his head, and she let it fall.  Ashamed, I just pulled his shirt out, and wiped my fingers off, but she was smiling the whole time.  "Huh, might as well pull over, and pay the lady."  She got out the her purse.

"Huh, honestly.  I don't need the money that bad, but now I'm so horny, I'd settle for a good fuck."

"Oh!" she smiled, "What do you say, man?"

"I'm up for it."

"I know," she groped his lap, "I can tell."  She grinned at me, and honestly, seeing a rich straight laced looking woman that's so perverted, was incredibly attractive too.

"I know just the place.  Turn here."

"Yes, maam."  He smiled back over his shoulder, handsome and charming, and I felt like I'd stumbled into a whole nother world.

I knew there was money downtown, people who had wealth, and even some were into kinky sex, but I never met any of them.  Why do you think I was walking around that neighborhood, with the sex shows, and college guys?

I always thought that I was a little too ugly to go pro, but I seriously considered getting a job in one of those places.  Taking my clothes off and dancing for men in a private booth, but that as much of a tease for me as it would be for any of them, and prostitution is dangerous.

So, he pulled up to a parking garage, and swiped a card by the gate, to let it open.  Drove us up, through multiple levels until we got to one that was empty, and pulled into a space.  The woman reached over the seat again to pull out the tape over his eyes.  He looked at me through the holes, and they smiled.

"Huh!"  I got out, and got my panties down under my tight dress.  "Let's see what you got here."  I pulled the hunk in by the pants pockets, and he threw his jacket on the hood.

Then, she started feeling his body from behind, pulling out his tie, and unbuttoning his shirt.  "Huh, you don't disappoint," I felt his good sized cock through the crotch of his pants, and unzipped the fly.  Slipping my fingers in and finding it bare.

No underwear, or pubic hair, but warm, and firm.  Thick, and long, he undid his belt, and button to let it spring out right in my face, so I grabbed it, and let it slip back and forth over my cheeks.  "Snh!"  Took a deep breath of the warm air from his pants, inhaling the manly smell.  Her hands pulled up his undershirt, revealing nice rock hard abs, and muscular hip bones.

For me to look at, slipping as much as I could get into my mouth to suck.  "Snh!"  Letting my eyes close, with the relief, and satisfaction of finally getting what I'd been waiting for all week.  I'm a sex addict, addicted to cock, and I couldn't wait any longer.

"Huh, let me put this on."

"Hurry, I need you now.  I want your cock inside me so much, huh!"  She came around while I was distracted, and I felt a draft from my dress coming up before her hands found my buttocks, and felt around between them.  Her fingers slipping through my wet cunt, and touching my clit. 

"Huh, you're so hot.  Bend over."

"Uh!"  She pushed me over the side of the car, and I just relaxed on the warm hood.

"Fuck her."  Her voice so cold, and demanding.  "Fuck the hell out of her, she deserves it.

"Oh, uh!  HUH!"  He's so big, and strong.  "Yeah, huh, fuck me?  Nhm!"

She climbed on the hood, in her high heals, and spread her legs.  Pulling my hair, and scooting up to bury my face in her hot wet cunt, and I have never been taken like this.  So completely, I'm willing to submit, but nobody ever just dominated me like that, and I wanted to please her so much, my efforts to bring her to orgasm with my mouth distracted me from the deep steady pounding, ramming me face first into her sex.

"Huh, ah HA!  Ngm gzsh!  FUAGH!"

He stopped, and pulled out, as soon as I started cumming.  So I got my hand under my spamsing tummy, and felt my pubes twitching.  My cunt clenching around my fingers, and a little pee dribbled out.

"Don't cum.  Not yet."  I shook my head, too late, but stopped fingering, until I hear the hood crinkle, and her sigh next to me.  "Huh, not until you fuck me too."

"You're the boss."  The car swayed a little when he climbed on, and I could open my eyes.  Gasping for air, but she was so beautiful there.  Her hair messed up, and her blouse open.  Her bra pulled up, and a nipple just peaking out for me to grope, and suck hungrily.

"Mh hn!"  I didn't taste any milk, but I could tell right away that she was a mother.  By the big round tan areola, darkening around the hard rubbery nipple.  "Smuip!"  It slipped out from the pounding, but I pulled her blouse, and bra out of the way to grip it with my thumbs, holding on, and licking it to get it back in my lips, and suck it hard enough that it wouldn't slip out, no matter how hard she shook with the powerful thrusts.

It was without a doubt, the most amazing sex I ever had, and I totally forgot about the man, tied up in the back seat, watching the three of us fuck, and suck on the hood of his car.