Langley Circle Formation Ch 13

Author's note: The following is a work of fiction that contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts and is intended for adults only. All people, places, and events are a product of my imagination and any characters described as engaging in sexual acts are over the age of eighteen. Thank you for reading. All feedback is greatly appreciated.

Thanks for sticking around for this instalment. This episode contains some mild bondage and extreme edging. Boundaries of a relationship between mother and adopted daughter are well and truly crossed as multiple partners participate.

Previously on Langley Circle... Beth spent the morning working with Josh on her new website project, teasing him relentlessly in the process, so that when Nicky returned he simply had to have her right there and then. Catching sight of the two teenagers having sex, Beth realised teasing Josh had backfired to some extent, leaving her frustrated and horny.

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Season Two, Episode Thirteen

Beth frowned in frustration as she jogged down the stairs. Where the hell was Dean?

Catching sight of Nicky and Josh going at it like rabbits on the dining table had sent a whole mixture of emotions screaming through her. At first, she was annoyed that they weren't being discreet; they could at least close the door, and that table was going to need a bloody good clean now. On the other hand, the fact that the door had been open had allowed Beth to lurk in the hallway, watching Josh's tight arse jerking back and forth as he fucked her daughter with an urgency that took her breath away. Her instinct had been to interrupt and ask them to go upstairs, but before she fully realised what she was doing, she had slipped a hand inside her underwear and was pushing two fingers into her pussy. The photo session had already gotten her aroused and antsy, but watching the two teenagers rampantly shagging on her dining table was off the chart. That's why she had stormed off in search of Dean, to demand he treat her to a similarly passionate shafting right this instant, but where the fuck was he?

She crept back past the dining room, pausing to peek in at the lovers, who were lying back on the table, half-naked and kissing softly. A swell of desire tingled between Beth's legs as she noticed a small trickle of cum leaking out of her daughter's pussy, onto her table. A strange mixture of anger and lust assaulted her as she stomped into the kitchen, heading for the back door.

Once Outside, she made a beeline for the tool shed that nestled down the side of the house. This was a ramshackle old structure that Dean had annoyingly refused to demolish when they had bought the house. "It's got charm" he'd said. Woodworm more like. Beth had mitigated the situation by training a wall of climbing ivy to ensure that the eyesore couldn't be seen from the garden, the house, or the street; you could probably see it from above, but Beth had her eye on a camouflage net on Amazon to deal with that problem. Beth had steadfastly avoided the place where at all possible, leaving Dean to claim it as his "man cave", and store his tools there, and "whittle wood" or whatever men did when they felt they needed peace and quiet.

Whatever peace and quiet Dean had been enjoying at that moment was obliterated as Beth stomped into the shed, kicking the door closed behind her.

Dean glanced up and smiled. "Hi love, everything OK?" he asked calmly, before returning his attention to the piece of wood he was sanding.

Beth took a moment to look around the shed; she rarely stepped foot in here, and was surprised to see how homely it was. Sure, the walls were lined with shelves and racks of tools, but there was a small sofa, a kettle and an old-fashioned radio that was currently playing an eighties song at low volume. The sun was shining in through a skylight in the roof casting dappled patches of shadow onto Dean, who was dressed in his "handyman" clothes and old tatty boots. He had a pencil lodged behind one ear and a tuft of chest hair poked out the top of the partially unbuttoned overalls. A flutter of arousal reminded Beth what had brought her here, and she quickly unfastened her robe, letting it fall to the floor. She glanced down noting that the damp patch on the front of her unicorn knickers, and her hard nipples were clearly visible. She waited for Dean to notice, the anticipation of his reaction steadily building, as too was the feeling of naughtiness at being all but naked in the shed; they were only a short distance from the main road, and a stone's throw from the fence that separated their garden from Mrs. Stephenson's property.

"How did it go with Josh?" Dean asked without looking up.

Beth blinked. "It went very well. We made excellent progress. What are you doing?"

"Mending the fence," Dean replied still focussing on the piece of wood.

"Josh set up the whole thing, then took some pictures for the articles."

"Mmm, that's nice dear."

"I got dressed in my school uniform and posed for him."

"That's good."

Beth sighed. "I spent an hour teasing him with flashes of my body, and consequently I'm now very horny, so if you don't put that bit of wood down right now and shag me, I'm gonna flag down a passing motorist."

Dean lost his grip on the sanding block and cartwheeled the piece of wood across the shed where it smacked into one of the shelves. He finally looked up, and his eyes went so wide Beth thought they might pop from his head. His jaw dropped as Beth playfully slipped the tips of her fingers beneath the waistband of her knickers, letting a wry smile spread onto her face.

"Fuck me," Dean said, standing up abruptly, knocking over his stool and banging his head on a shelf. He didn't seem to notice the pain if there was any, but gawped at her, which sent delicious sparks of empowerment and desire through her.

"How about it then Mr. Handyman, fancy getting handy with me?"

Dean paused for a few seconds, then his persona completely changed. His face became relaxed and confident; he smirked and calmly began clearing the tools away from the foldable workbench in the middle of the floor. Beth watched with growing anticipation as he methodically and unhurriedly placed each tool back in its correct place. He glanced at her from time to time, letting his eyes rove languidly over her body; he was a man after all, and she was looking totally "dooable", even if she did say so herself, but his placid unflappable demeanour was somewhat unsettling.

When she had originally sought him out, she'd known exactly what she wanted and had been determined to get it on her terms, but now somehow, she felt she had unwittingly relinquished control. He had grabbed it and was demonstrating that control through his behaviour. She shifted on her bare feet, the smooth wood bboards creaking softly beneath her weight as he continued to tidy up.

When all the tools were gone, he took a rag and wiped the bench down, then adjusted two handles that caused one half of the top to slide closer to the other. Seemingly happy with this he turned to a nearby drawer and slid it open, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Her resolve waivered and she had to fight the sudden urge to run giggling from the shed, but no more could she move her feet, than she could tear her eyes from him. He slowly withdrew an item from the draw and placed it on the top of the workbench, then stood up straight and considered her.

"Ready?" he asked in a measured calm voice.

"Ready?" Beth asked in confusion, letting out a nervous giggle. "I'm ready for a good seeing to, but you look like your about to teach me woodwork." Beth smirked at her own witty retort, but her face dropped when she saw his grin broaden.

He slowly undid the buttons on his cover-all down to the waist and slipped his arms out, letting the top half of the garment fall behind him. Beth flared her nostrils at the sight of his broad chest, and a gasp escaped her lips as he pulled off his t-shirt to reveal his lightly muscled torso, and closed the distance between them. Her tummy tightened and the dampness between her legs increased, the muscles deep within her clenching and flexing, almost as if they were preparing for her man.

"So you are ready then?"

Beth twitched her gaze to the workbench then back to Dean, who was devouring her with his eyes. It almost felt like he was making physical contact, so piercing was his stare as it travelled up her legs, paused at her unicorn-decorated knickers a long moment, and then settled on her chest. When he licked his lips while staring at her breasts, her knees weakened, and she thought she might fall to the floor. Swallowing hard, she nodded her confirmation.

"Good," he said, reaching out to grab her wrists with lightning speed.

Beth jerked back reflexively, but she wasn't quick enough to evade his grasp. Adrenalin flooded her body as she stared into his grinning face, desperately trying to work out what was going through his mind. He backed up, leading her step by faltering step, across the floor to the workbench, and without releasing her wrists, he stepped around it, leaving her on one side and him on the other.

"Bend over and lay on the bench." He didn't wait for her ascent, pulling her wrists towards him, which left her with no option than to sprawl forward over the narrow bench. She lifted her head and stared up at him, the bulge in the front of his overalls dominating her view from this new angle.

"Mmm baby, I want that." Her words were breathy and honey-laced as the intensity of the moment ramped up her horniness tenfold. This was a little edgy, a little dangerous, and she liked it.

Still holding her wrists, Dean slowly knelt down in front of her. His face moved into her eye line, mere inches from hers; she could smell the coffee on his breath. She leaned forward to try to kiss him, but he remained out of reach. She huffed and pouted in frustration, which only seemed to please him more. He leant down, pulling her left hand towards the floor until her fingers brushed the metal leg at one side of the workbench. He reached up and grabbed the item he'd retrieved from the drawer earlier, and after a bit of unseen fumbling, she became aware of a soft vinyl like material wrapping around her wrist; then she couldn't move her arm. Before she fully realised this, her right wrist had also been bound, to the other leg of the bench. Now she couldn't move either arm at all.

Beth struggled, trying to lift her body, or move in any direction, but her arms were held fast. Her toes were barely brushing the floor on the other side of the bench, preventing her from getting any real purchase from that direction either. A knot of fear turned in her tummy, and panic rose.

She stopped struggling for a moment and tried to rationalise. She was safe; this was Dean! She lifted her head and stared at him, aware that she was panting short fast breaths, and the ache between her legs was intense. Fuck, she was so turned on.

"I can't move," she whimpered in a pathetic voice.

"That's the idea," Dean said gently, reaching out to cup her cheek. His touch was electric, and the second his fingers left her face, she yearned desperately for their return.

He rose and moved out of sight behind her. Beth tried to look back, but the only way she could do this was to let her head hang and peer upside down back beneath the workbench. His tatty boots were visible directly behind her, which meant he'd be staring down at her cotton-covered backside. Beth braced herself; surely, he would pull her underwear down. All her senses focused around her waist, waiting for the touch of his fingers threading into the waistband. When he reached down and grasped her ankle, she gasped in surprise, it being entirely not what she had been expecting. With methodical care, he lifted each foot to the side and used similar straps to fasten her ankles in place. Beth frowned; was this some kind of specialist sex bench? It seemed perfectly designed for this kind of situation, but she didn't think Black & Dekker made sex furniture. She let out an involuntary snort of laughter at that thought, and the hand fixing her right ankle froze. For a long moment nothing happened, and then as she watched, he finished his task and stood back up.

Suddenly, her senses burst as a stinging heat blossomed in her bottom; a shriek exploded her mouth before she could bite it down. A tingling pain spread over her right buttock, the warmth building to a delicious swelling pressure that made not only her bum tingle but also every erogenous zone on her body. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, her nipples hardened even more, and her clitoris throbbed.

"Hmmm, a small adjustment me thinks." The voice right next to her ear made her jump.

A familiar squeaking sound followed a moment later, accompanied by fractional movements of the wooden surface below her body. It took her a while to realise that the gap between the two halves of the top of the bench was widening with each squeaky turn of the handle. She peered back beneath her body and witnessed her belly button appear in the gap which was about three inches wide at this point and getting wider all the time. With agonising slowness, the gap increased until she was able to see the swell of the underside of her breasts stretching the white material of her top. A few seconds later gravity began to assert its influence as the weight of her breasts made them tilt backwards. The mechanical determination of the process was painfully slow, but Beth found her excitement building as the gap widened millimetre by millimetre, until finally she felt the weight of her breasts pull them down to hang between the two halves of the bench. The upper part of her chest still rested on the top of the workbench; she could feel the front edge around her collarbone. The process had put more strain on her bonds as the widening bench tried to elongate her body, further limiting her ability to move anything other than her head. With the majority of her body weight still supported by the top of the bench, she was able to relax to some extent, letting her body go limp. How long would it be before the blood started to rush to her head and make her feel dizzy?

"Ah, that's much better," Dean said, crouching down to examine the result of his adjustments. He reached under, and Beth's heart fluttered as his large hand closed around one of her breasts and squeezed. "Perfect."

"The Black & Dekker Bench pro 2000 has many interesting and useful features," Dean went on as he stood and moved around towards her head. He trailed his fingers over her back, sending tingles of anticipatory pleasure through her. "One of these is its four folding legs, which can be independently extended. This allows the bench to be flat or tilted side to side" -- he reached down and grabbed the frame of the bench -- "Or as in this case, from front to back." He lifted the bench, tilting it back at a forty-five degree angle. Beth squealed as she felt her centre of gravity rapidly change, and for a moment thought she was going to tumble over backwards with the bench strapped to her. Her toes touched down on the floor, her breasts hung against the back side of the gap and her head came up such that she was almost able to look straight ahead.

Dean snapped out two folding legs, one on either side, and then rested the bench back down leaving Beth and the bench tilted up towards him at around a thirty-degree angle. Beth's eyes widened as she wound up staring directly at the bulge in his overalls.

"This level of flexibility is extremely useful, say for instance if you needed to work on a slope at a construction site, or with awkwardly sized materials, or if you don't fancy bending over to get a blowjob from the person you have strapped to it."

Beth let out an excited giggle as she anticipated what was coming next. Her mouth actually began to water, and the butterflies in her tummy returned, dancing up a storm as he slipped his thumbs into the waist of his overalls and freed his erection. It sprang up, mere inches from her face and she opened her mouth and tried to lean forward, but couldn't quite reach, so reluctantly settled for flicking her tongue over his crown. Dean sighed appreciatively and moved within range. Beth opened her mouth again, but before she could move to suck him, he thrust his hardness between her lips, startling her. She had about three inches of comfortable movement, which she now put to good use, eagerly bobbing up and down, sucking and slobbering all over his cock. She barely felt in control of her own actions as she drooled over his manhood like some kind of sex-starved whore.

Dean rested his hands lightly on her head as she nodded up and down on his shaft. This would be so much easier if she could use her hands, but he had taken control and made that decision for her; besides, being restrained was turning out to be so exhilarating. She whined and tugged at the bonds holding her wrists to feel the resistance, as his fingers curled into her hair. He gathered her loose locks and gripped them in his fist close to the back of her head, forcefully setting the rhythm and pace by tugging her head up and down slowly and steadily on his cock. Beth spluttered as he nudged the back of her throat, but she didn't try to pull away; in fact, she desperately wanted him to go further, be rougher. With each thrust, Dean grunted, and it wasn't long before his hips were jerking upwards to meet his hands pushing down. Beth's own arousal was spiking every time he manhandled her, driving his cock to the back of her throat. She was sopping wet between her legs, and desperately wriggling and grinding her hips, trying to get any small amount of friction on her clitoris that she could.

"Perhaps you can put this one in the blog," Dean grunted as he grabbed the back of her head with both hands and sped up, using her mouth like it was her cunt. "Bored housewife can't pay the handyman, so handyman takes his payment in other ways."

Beth moaned and hummed her ascent; it was all she could do with a mouthful of his cock. His hips bucked sharply upwards, making her eyes bulge as his dick thrust into her throat, prompting her to cough and splutter, saliva exploding from the corners of her mouth. His cock slipped out and she retched, coughing hard and spitting on the floor.

"Don't' stop, don't fucking stop," Beth gasped and peered up at him, opening her mouth for him.

Dean grasped the base of his cock and fed it back between her lips, hunching over her as he began thrusting with a steady and urgent pace. Beth relaxed her muscles and let him use her, trying to suppress her gags as much as possible each time the head of his dick forced into her throat. His hard shaft slid back and forth over her tongue, nudged the roof of her mouth, bashed into her cheeks causing them to bulge obscenely, and repeatedly forged to the back of her mouth. Hands reached over her body, roughly groping as they moved to her arse. A stinging slap landed on one bum cheek and a surge of pleasure grew in her, merging with the pain. Rough fingers slid between her buttocks, pressing the material of her knickers up against her arsehole, before sliding lower to force into her cunt, as his grunts grew louder and faster. Beth warbled and gacked around his cock as he continue to fuck her mouth.

One more growl and stinging slap from Dean, and her mouth began filling with hot cum. She coughed and gagged, cum spraying from the corners of her mouth and dripping to the floor. Dean groaned and tensed as he slowed his pace, firmly pressing his cock into her mouth as he pumped his spunk into her. She swallowed hard, sending the thick creamy liquid sliding down her throat. She whined in unintelligible lust, her own pleasure spiking, but sadly not quite peaking.