CHAPTER ONE: SETTING THE SCENE
"Grind down on his face!"
Sam perched forward excitedly in her chair, encouraging Laura to rasp her close-shaved, bristly bush roughly against her husband's shiny face.
The atmosphere in the room was sexually charged, scored by the symphony of Laura's excited gasps, wet slurps of cunnilingus, and Sam's curt instructions.
Laura was totally naked, her 34D boobs jiggled as she rode Chris's face. They were both on their living room floor. Her sweating body glistened in the sunlight that streamed through the front window. Dust particles danced in the warm summer air. She was fully exposed should any visitor happen to walk close by and peer through the window. She was facing her husband's feet. His similarly nude body was spread-eagled on the Persian rug that covered the wooden floor.
"Harder. But don't cum yet."
In contrast to the married couple's nakedness, Sam was still dressed in her grey track pants and sweaty black running vest. She had a glass of iced water in her hand that she sipped, while she watched her new clients, 'in training'. She was moist between her own thighs, her nipples hard against the damp cotton vest, but she didn't touch herself. Not yet anyway. She focused on them.
It had all begun two months earlier, when Chris and Laura had answered her ad. She was a legitimate, qualified personal trainer, based at a nearby gym, but she did home visits too. Chris and Laura were both 27 and keen to get fitter, to lose a few pounds and to look great. Both were good looking anyway, but pretty much everybody can use a bit more definition, a healthier lifestyle, right?
Straight from the very first meeting, there was a frisson of excitement; an electricity between the three of them. At 23, Sam was four years the couple's junior, but taking charge came naturally to her. She was a hard taskmistress and Laura and Chris quickly demonstrated a willingness to follow her orders. Almost blind obedience to her, in fact.
Nobody had called her Samantha for two decades. She was Sam, pure and simple. An only child with separated parents who both had new families of their own, Sam had been the only person she could rely on for as long as she could remember.
Four weeks after meeting Chris and Laura, Sam stayed behind for a drink after their running and exercise session had finished. The conversation turned to sex. Sam encouraged her clients to use sex as physical exercise and as a motivation. But it soon became obvious that Chris and Laura's sex life was vanilla and unfulfilled. Yet that's not how it seemed either of them wanted it to be. Somebody had to take charge.
"Okay. Push back. Ram your butt on his face now."
Laura didn't even hesitate. Her eyes were closed. She adjusted her hips so her sweaty anus plopped directly onto Chris's face. Her mouth was open in a small, eager 'o'. Just a week ago, Laura had never even had a tongue in her ass and Chris had never once put his tongue into one. But Sam was broadening their horizons. Fast.
She smiled at Chris's erection, jutting up towards his stomach muscles. Neither he nor Laura touched it. His turn may come at the end? Maybe not. His dick was a decent size. His groin was totally devoid of hair, waxed bald as a baby now, a blunt reminder that Sam was now in charge of 'all his body'. She could hear him struggling to breathe and see his neck muscles working. The room smelt heavy with the sweet and sour perfume of their perspiration and sex.
Sam couldn't really believe her luck. This was her fantasy in the flesh. She had a casual boyfriend but he was nothing serious. She loved kinky sex and was bisexual and dominant. So Chris and Laura ticked all her boxes.
Laura had already revealed to Sam that she had been a virgin when she married Chris 7 years before. She hadn't done more than kiss another boy when she was in her mid-teens. She'd been 18 when she met Chris and had married him at 20.
Even Chris had only ever had one girlfriend before Laura. They met on arrival at college and it was love at first sight. Sweet, romantic, young love. Sex was typically plentiful but bland; inexperienced, rushed, missionary, vanilla. Laura had shyly admitted to Sam she'd almost never had an orgasm from sex with Chris. They had both slowly settled into a sexual rut. Each of them silently thought it was their destiny to live with their own private, unshared fantasies.
Before fate had decided to scratch their seven year itch.
Sam sipped her water and smiled, as Laura bounced her sweaty buns energetically over Chris's chops. Laura had enjoyed quite a few huge orgasms once Sam had taken over her lovemaking.
The shattering, memorable, addictive kind that become like drugs.
Now, for the past fortnight, Sam had forbidden Laura and Chris to have any sex together at all, or even to masturbate, jointly or alone, without her permission. Laura's eyelids opened and her smoky green eyes sought out Sam's face.
Laura was pretty, very pretty, prettier even than Sam. She was a brunette with shoulder length dark hair, high cheekbones, and classic features. She stood tall, at 5'9", with a model's legs and a lissom body. As she bucked and moaned astride Chris's face, her posture showed off the symmetry of her tiny waist and rounded hips.
The slight excess on her thighs that she'd been worried about had already been exercised off. Her skin glowed from the strict, healthy diet Sam had put her on. But Sam's favourite feature was Laura's boobs; high and full, 34D, with dark berry nipples. Her tits were larger than you'd normally expect on such a lithe body. They bounced and swayed and made Sam want to kiss and bite them.
Sam herself was a fake blonde, only 5'6", but her athletic, upright bearing made her appear taller. She had citron-yellow hair cut in a short bob, framing her cute puckish face.
People said she looked like some French actress, but she couldn't remember the name. Her body was magnificently fit, without a millimetre of fat, although she herself would have liked more generous curves. But she only had a flat A-cup chest and was going to get herself a boob-job if she ever got the money. Boys fancied her aura, energy and sexual enthusiasm as much as her looks. She'd lost her virginity at 14 and had never looked back since.
She smiled and gently nodded her head. Laura's eyes blinked back at her in relief like two emeralds. Laura was desperate to cum and she was seeking approval to swivel her clit back into contact with Chris's tongue. After two hours of exercise, every inch of her skin shone and her bottom was leaking sweat.
Sam watched her lean forward so that her stubbly 'five o'clock shadow' of pussy hair slid down either side of Chris's nostrils. By now, his face was rubbed red and raw from his wife's bristly pubes. But his tongue slid obediently into her pink folds.
"Okay." Sam sighed magnanimously. "You can cum".
*** *** ***
Three days later, Sam arrived early and let herself in. She had a copy of their door key now. She made two home visits a week; Thursdays and Sundays. Both training sessions were officially two hours; paid in cash at her full, standard rate.
But today was going to be different. A whole Sunday. They had all agreed to kick things up another notch. Chris greeted her in his running shorts and a Coldplay T-shirt. His face was fresh-shaven but he still bore the 'shaving rash' of the marathon face-sitting session three days before.
Chris and Laura lived in an upmarket starter home. It was a modern built house with a living room, kitchen, master suite, a guest bedroom and a third bedroom-study. It was quite a contrast to Sam's rented bedsit in a derelict neighbourhood.
He was as cute as his wife was pretty. They made a handsome couple. He was 6' 1" tall with caramel hair and a square-jaw. A bit like the actor Christopher Reeve, but in Clark Kent rather than Superman mode. He proved the truth that not all male submissives are poorly endowed wimps. He had intelligent brown eyes and wore glasses most of the time.
Like Laura, the excess inch round Chris's waist when they'd begun their training had already disappeared. Sam had put him on a rigid alcohol-free, low sugar, zero red meat diet. He had given up his 5-a-day smoking habit and tried as hard as he could to observe her total veto on masturbation and internet porn.
"Morning Chris." She said, placing her key on the console. Her envelope was already there, containing cash for two sessions and a copy of their past three months bank statements she'd asked to see.
"Good morning, Miss." He replied. "Coffee?"
She smiled and he flicked on the kettle. There was a flushing sound and Laura emerged from the downstairs toilet. She was wearing running shorts as well, with slits up the side. She had on the new skin-tight top Sam had found for her online; 'Bimbo' was emblazoned across her straining chest in bright pink letters.
"Ready?" Sam greeted her, without even saying hello.
"Yes, Miss." Laura replied.
Sam pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket with a 'treasure map' on it. It marked a route to her own neighbourhood in red pen that added up to a six and a half mile run. There and back would be thirteen miles. A half marathon. Sam had deposited a coin buried by a tree that was the 'treasure'. Laura had to run and fetch it and bring it back. As fast as she could. Sam watched from the front doorstep as Laura set off running down the street.
Sam sat down with the coffee Chris had made for her; black without sugar. He knelt at her feet and she began the interrogation.
"So, no cigarettes?"
