For The Weekend Ch 04

Eventually all of our items are bagged and we are off to the truck. Tim has barely climbed in before I am on him, rubbing his cock through his jeans. "I guess you need it really bad, huh?" he says.

"I do," I reply.

"What do you need?"

"I need..."

"Go ahead and tell me exactly what you need."

"I need...need to cum."

"Really? How would you like to cum?"

"I need a cock in me...I need to feel you in me."

"Mmmmm, sounds good, but it will have to wait until we get back to our room. Can you wait?"

"I don't know...can you pull over and just do me here?"

"Do what?"

"Don't tease! Please finish me!"

"How would you like to be finished, my pretty little slut? I love it when women talk dirty...tell me what you need and I may be inspired to give it to you."

I'm beside myself with need and find words coming out of my mouth that I rarely use outside of our bedroom. "Please fuck my cunt until I cum, please, I need to cum! I'll suck your cock, I'll swallow you, just please make me cum!"

"That's better, but we'll still have to wait. I promise I will make it worth your while. In the meantime, tell me—did you enjoy having those strangers looking at you? I'm sure all of the men wanted to fuck your cute little pussy, and I suspect one or two of the women wanted a shot at it, too."

I hesitate before answering, but my arousal drives me to speak the truth. "I was scared," I reply, "but it also excited me, knowing those men found me attractive."

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about your looks," Tim says. "Keep working on that attitude I saw in there and you can have whoever you want. Have you ever made love to a woman?"

I again hesitate before answering, a little nervous as to where this might be leading. The closest I ever came to anything remotely Lesbian in nature was a drunken night in College with a roommate, and even that was no more than mutual nudity and each of us masturbating in our own beds. However, I have always wondered what a woman's touch would be like.

"Not really," I answer. "But I've sometimes fantasized about it..."

"You don't say," Tim answers, but says no more.

Another couple of minutes and we are back in the hotel parking lot. We move quickly through the lobby, Tim carrying our purchases, and we enter the elevator. As soon as the doors close, he says, "give me your shirt." I am shocked and look at him, but he just says, "quickly, before we reach our floor." Normally this would be too much for me to comply with, but the combination of my earlier fashion show and my current state of sexual arousal make me reach for the buttons and quickly undo them. I slip out of my top and hand it to him. My nipples are rock hard, both from the exposure to the air as well as my current state of excitement.

We reach our floor and the doors slide open. Thankfully no one is waiting for the elevator and we walk to our room.

Tim opens the door for me and lets me enter. As soon as I am in the door, I slip off my shoes and skirt and turn to wrap myself around him and kiss him, my hands reaching for his belt. I embrace his leg with my own and begin to hump my pussy against him, hoping for a quick release. He returns my kiss, running his hands over my nude back and ass, but then breaks our embrace.

"You've done great tonight," he says, "and you've earned your orgasm. Have I earned your trust today?"

I'm confused by this question, but answer slowly, my crotch still grinding against his thigh. "Yes, sir. I trust you."

"Good," he says. "Then let me take care of you properly."

He goes to the bedroom and I follow, curious. Tim takes all of the pillows from the bed and stacks them in a pyramid a couple of feet from the end. He looks at me, winks and goes to the other room, to my overnight bag.

He rummages through it a moment, then pulls out a bundle of ropes. My ropes. He must know how I love to be tied, how I love the feel of the cord against my skin, how I love the feeling of total helplessness. This is different, however. I now know why he asked me about trust. The idea of being totally helpless with this man who I did not know a day ago is incredibly frightening, but my wet pussy and my love for the feel of the ropes betray me. I hold my wrists out to him, offering them for tying.

Tim sees this and says, "you ARE a trusting sort. Good girl! Don't worry, just say the magic words any time you want me to stop. If you are ready, undress me and get me ready to fuck you."

He sits on the bed and I kneel before him and remove his boots, taking a moment to remove his socks as well and massage the soles of his feet.

He stands, and I stand as well to unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him, taking time to run my hands over his chest and nipples. A moment of this, and I unbuckle his belt and jeans, sliding the pants and underwear down all at once. He kicks off the crumpled clothing and I kneel again, running my hands over his beautiful cock. It is fully erect and wet with precum, no doubt the result of the last several hours of our adventures. I lick the shaft and head, trying to gather as much of his male taste and smell as possible. As I move around his hard-on, I laugh to myself—in less than 10 hours I have gone from avoiding the taste of cum to looking for it.

Tim does not allow me much time, however, as he stops me and guides me to the mound of pillows. He has me lie on them, stomach down, and then moves a leg here and an arm there until I am in an almost crouching position, my cunt and ass raised and fully completely accessible to him. With that, he begins to tie me.

It is quickly obvious that he is experienced with this type of game. He begins by binding my left thigh just above the knee, then continues on up the side of my leg. A few turns around my waist and then he crosses the rope across my chest between my tits. He wraps the rope around my chest above my breasts, then trails the end of the rope out to where my hands are lying on the bed above my head. He repeats the process on the other side with another piece of rope, and then binds my hands with the two ends. The effect is that while I have some movement, I am not going anywhere quickly. The ropes feel delicious against my skin—not too tight, indeed, loose enough to move just a little against my body, maybe even leave just a hint of a burn. The combination of the night's activities and the feel of the ropes has me very close to cumming without even being touched.

With my body positioned the way it is, I cannot get a direct look at what Tim is doing behind me. Soon though, I feel a fur cuff attached to my left ankle, followed by the right. I attempt to move my legs together a little, but they are stopped short.

"Spreader bar," he says. "Can't have you closing up on me, now can I?"

With that comes more photography from various angles, all showing my restraints and compromising position.

After several minutes of his art project, He leaves the room again. I still can only sense, rather than see, when he is entering or leaving the room, never what he has or what he is doing. He soon returns and I feel several items dropped on the bed behind me.

"Well," he says, "time for you to cum." With that, I hear a familiar buzzing switch on, then off. "Recognize that?" he says. "It's one of yours...an old favorite, I believe. But first, a little training for you." There is a momentary pause, then the feel of his finger on my rosebud. The touch is cold and wet, and I quickly realize he is applying lubricant to my back passage. His finger slides up and down my asscrack, then begins to work its way into me. His finger begins a fucking motion, slow and gentle. While it is a bit uncomfortable for me, I do my best not to tense up. His finger continues to probe deeper and deeper with the thrusts until the knuckles of his other fingers are meeting my asscheeks on each repetition.

Tim pulls his finger out, gently massaging my asshole for a moment. He stops, and then there is no contact from him at all. I know he is still behind me though, doing something. I hope I am about to receive the fucking I need, but abruptly I feel something else, something larger, at my rosebud. He pushes gently, and it begins to open me wide.

"This is called a buttplug," he says. "I bought it tonight while we were shopping. You can take it home with you, if you would like to have your husband try it out." He continues to push, slowly but firmly, and soon it is buried in me. I am grunting a little bit, still trying to get used to the feeling.

"Try and let your body accept it," Tim says. "This is a training size, meant to get you used to having something in your ass. Here, maybe I can help you relax a bit."

With that the buzzing resumes and I feel something hard and vibrating sliding in my sopping cunt. Soon something else is tickling my clit—it's my rabbit vibe.

He moves the vibrator in a short rocking motion, the shaft moving a little in my cunt, but the nub never leaving my. My overdue orgasm begins to build, and I attempt to close my legs around the dildo and control it with my thighs, but the spreader bar prevents that. I fuck the vibrator as hard as my restrained body will allow, and make every effort to keep my clit in contact with the vibrating tip. My cum crashes over me, my head spinning, nothing in the world mattering but those exquisite waves of pleasure pulsing through my cunt and on to all of my nerve endings.

My orgasm begin to subside, my body wrung out from the physical pleasure, and Tim removes the vibrator from my pussy and replaces it with his own cock, slowly fucking me. I feel him playing with the buttplug a little, pulling it out a little, then gently pushing it back in. The orgasm has indeed relaxed me, and the toy filling my asshole is not nearly as uncomfortable as it was several minutes ago. It's actually become a little erotic in my post-orgasm glow.

His cock continues to saw in and out of me at a leisurely rate. I wonder how he is able to delay his own orgasm until I remember I have made him cum twice already today. About this time, however, he stops and removes the buttplug. I wonder if my training is over now that I have cum, but this is quickly proven untrue as he moves behind me again and slides his staff through the cleft of my ass. He seems to be taking great delight in rubbing the head of his cock against my asshole. I'm certain this is not how he intends to end this, dry-humping my asscheeks. I realize he has been readying me for another way...

"I'm not sure—" I begin to stammer, but he cuts me off.

"Your ass is mine, just like the rest of your body, and I intend to use it. I've prepared you for this moment; I'm going to fuck your ass, and my hope is that you will ask for more. Try to relax and enjoy losing your virginity again."

With that he climbs on the bed behind me, kneeling over my ass, and presses the tip of his cock into my hole, spreading it open again. The buttplug has made this easier, no doubt, but it is still a bit uncomfortable accommodating my first anal fucking. He is gentle though, and pushes in slowly, letting my body adjust. His hips eventually reach my cheeks, and he withdraws, pushing back in with more force. He repeats this motion several times until he is fucking my ass just as easily as it was my cunt. I begin to become aroused again, the ropes and the submissive posture (and I must admit, the assfucking), having an effect. He continues to drill me, his hands gripping my hips and pulling himself into me. As his tempo builds, his vocalizing does as well.

"I'm fucking your ass, slut, I'm fucking it and I'm going to fill it with cum. I'm going to make sure your husband sees exactly what I did to your asshole. Do you like it, slut? Do you like being nasty like this?"

"Yes sir, please fuck me—make me your slut! I want your cum in me!"

Tim growls and strokes harder, then holds his hips tightly against my ass. I'm a virgin no more; he fills my ass with his seed.

He shudders several times as he continues to pulse in me, then quiets. Tim climbs off of me, leaving me in my exposed position while he retrieves the camera. He takes several pictures of my filled anal opening, and then begins to slowly untie me, kissing my back and neck along the way. He pays particular attention to the spots where the rope has rubbed me, kissing and licking as if to try and soothe the sting.

After the last rope is removed, I begin to sit up, but he kisses me long and tenderly before I can reach the sitting position. My love is reserved for one man in this world, and it is not Tim, but I do feel a sense of belonging and appreciation for the man currently lavishing me with attention.

He sends me to the bathroom to clean up, following along. He has me bend over again and spreads lotion on my slightly abused rosebud to help soothe it, then kisses up my back to my neck, his soft manhood nestled in my crack. He hands me a washcloth, looks at his flaccid dick, and says, "clean me, my beautiful slut." I wet the washcloth and soap him down before rinsing him off as best I can.

"Make sure you get the balls and below," he growls.

I give his cock plenty of attention, but it is not ready to rise again—3 times in one day will have that effect, I'm sure. Eventually, I believe myself to be done, and he asks, "are you sure? Remember, it can be in your mouth at any time." I do one more check and pronounce myself sure. He chuckles and says, "good enough. Let's get some sleep. I've got a busy day planned for tomorrow." What could be busier than today, I wonder?

We sleep in the spoon position, his cock nestled in the cleft of my ass and his hand on my breast. It's a strange experience actually sleeping with someone other than the man I married, and it takes me a while to fall asleep.