Love and Betrayal

Becci checked their hotel room before leaving and paused as she recalled an earlier and more innocent time, shortly after her engagement. She was stopped in a line of traffic, lost in an erotic fantasy. Paul had blindfolded her and secured her wrists and ankles to their brass bed. She was entirely at his mercy while he performed the most amazing cunnilingus on her. Becci remembered briefly closing her eyes, imagining that her body was writhing in ecstasy as he finally claimed her. One hand was still on the steering wheel, but the other was between her thighs, her fingers moving along her moist slit to her clitoris and probing inside her vagina. Her breathing was erratic and lips open.

A loud blast from a horn behind her brought her to her senses. The traffic in front had moved on. Then she noticed that the other lane was also blocked; a middle-aged man in a SUV was leering at her. From his higher vantage point he could see almost everything! Her face burned crimson and her hands were shaking as she stalled and restarted her car. She vividly recalled her distress at having been discovered. Now she would give anything to be as free from guilt as she was then.

That was less than one year ago. Within the last month Becci had enacted two of the most extreme recurring fantasies she had entertained from her teens. Both times she had blamed Paul's infidelity for her actions, but this was simply a false justification to ease her own guilt. Her transformation from the girl who was so ashamed and embarrassed at being caught in an erotic daydream was profound.

Becci was now fractured; part devoted wife yearning to be the pure young woman Paul had fallen in love with, part nascent libertine. Her mind was a cesspit of carnal thoughts and fantasies. At first her actions had been driven by revenge, but now she was becoming a slave to the increasingly explicit erotic musings seeping from her dreams into her wakeful thoughts. She knew she must learn to master and control them, to not be drawn into realising them.

She also felt certain that most men would want a sexually liberated woman, not least Paul. She wanted to be the best version of her true self. A slut, yes of course, but only his slut. Paul had also changed, that much was clear. He was no longer living a protracted apology to her; he was stronger with a new resolve.

Becci kissed Paul in the hotel foyer after he had settled their hotel bill. Her fingers reached for his, then she pressed something into his hand. When he reluctantly broke free from their prolonged embrace, he glanced down to see her little lace bra in his hand. He blushed and quickly pocketed it.

Becci and Paul spent their last afternoon in Prague gently, walking through the streets of the old town and stopping for coffee. Both reminiscing and looking to the future, healing and even strengthening the strained bonds between them. She pressed her breast against his arm and whispered, "I just want to be your loving little slut. Just yours!" Her nipples became engorged as she spoke. She was still braless, and they were clearly outlined in the fabric of her dress.

Paul had booked the night train to Kraków that evening, and Becci secretly planned how that journey would unfold. She left Paul sipping a cool beer in front of the Astronomical clock, saying she had to buy a few 'women's things.' He was rather surprised when she returned with more than a few tampons. Becci smiled, giggled and blushed as she produced a pair of slutty stilettos, higher than any he had ever seen her wear before, with open toes and ankle straps hinting at bondage.

She sat down opposite him to change into her new heels, raising each leg in turn to allow him a perfect view up her little summer dress. Her vulva was smooth and perfectly outlined within the thin sheer panties she was wearing.

Becci continued to flash him discretely, pulling her dress briefly across to expose a nipple and the curve of her breast, and opening her legs to let him gaze up between her pale thighs. Throughout she pretended to be oblivious to the other patrons sitting nearby and tourists walking along the street. Once he'd settled their bill, she took advantage of a moment when few eyes were on her and quickly slipped her panties off. She handed them to him as they made good their escape.

Paul was enthralled by Becci's playful antics, and struck by how aroused she was. His own response was tempered by worries about being seen by the people around them and concern that Becci would attract the wrong sort of attention. Yet she was only looking at him, and only trying to please him. Most of the time they were safe, and he found her simply surprising and delightful.

In the station she sat with one heel through the last gap in the bench slats. As Paul returned with coffee she let her knee fall to one side, giving him a perfect view of her moist glistening slit. He nearly scaled himself, and Becci collapsed in a fit of giggles.

On boarding the night train the attendant showed them to their compartment and took their ticket so they would not be disturbed. He offered to change the seat into berths, but Becci quickly interjected, "In two hours? Can we wait two hours?" She locked the door and stowed her bags in the luggage box above that ran across the corridor. She balanced on one foot in her five-inch stripper stilettos as she stretched; her blouse pulled tight outlining the curve of her breast and rode up exposing her midriff. A little taste of what was to come.

Becci turned around, her hair and clothes just a little out-of-place, and handed Paul a bottle of local Pinot and a corkscrew. She slinked down on the seat beside him and felt his biceps as he drove the metal spiral into the cork. With a wicked smile she bit her lower lip as he popped it out the bottle.

Her hand fell to his groin to cup his balls, and she almost purred as he instantly stiffened. Becci blocked his kiss with a single finger, "No... not yet... not yet my love." She produced proper wine glasses, purchased for this journey, as the train left the station.

It was already dark outside, but Becci insisted on keeping the blind open and light on full. She asked Paul to sit in the middle of the seat, "We're safe here; I just want them to see me. So the light has to be between the window and me, OK?"

Paul looked at her a little uncertain, and asked, "Them?"

Becci glanced out the window, blushing slightly, "Everyone... anyone who happens to... to look." She clicked the playlist she'd prepared and saved on her phone.

Kiss by Prince started to play. Standing tall with her legs parted she tousled her hair and began to sway in time to the music. Her hands moved down her face, her fingertips gliding over the nape of her neck and then her breasts, as her pelvis gyrated to the rhythm. She spun around, her buttocks clenched and pert, and slowly undid the top buttons of her blouse. Sliding her hands inside the loose material, she began to caress herself, gently moaning. Through the window she could see apartment buildings and busy streets.

Turning back to face Paul she slammed her hands against the compartment wall, spread wide above his head. Arching her back and thrusting her tits forward, she whispered, "Help me with these awkward little buttons." As he undid that last one she wriggled out of her blouse and let it fall to the floor, revealing her pale breasts and engorged pink nipples.

Becci continued to move to the music as she unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt. She turned her back in Paul and slid it ever so slowly over her butt-cheeks, inches from his face, and let it fall around her ankles. Becci stepped out of her skirt and flicked it to the wall with her heel.

She turned around to face him, and his eyes were instantly transfixed on her pussy. The power it exerted over him amazed her. She was now naked and clearly aroused. With a razor and wax as best suited, she had removed every unnecessary hair from her body before leaving their hotel. A main road now ran parallel to the train tracks and she was brightly illuminated for all passing motorists to see, flanked by darkened carriages. A few vehicles appeared to be speeding to match the pace of the night train, following in convoy.

Becci stroked Paul's arms and hands with her fingertips, and then returned to her hips, inviting him to follow her. She slinked up and down under his touch, his hands running the full length of her body, lingering on her bum, breasts, inner thighs and groin. She inhaled sharply as his finger ran along her slit, quickly grasping his shoulder to steady herself. Her breathing became rapid and shallow.

She brought her pert nipples to his lips. Paul sucked one nipple and full areola into his mouth; it was as if he wanted to milk her. In that moment she wished she could oblige. Becci moved slowly to the music in his arms as he pressed her breasts into his face. Throughout she furtively glanced out the window to check on the headlights tracking the train's progress, and looking out for station platforms and buildings. She knew that she was clearly visible. How many people had seen her? Her pussy flooded as she broke free trembling.

Becci eased Paul's hands off her body, playfully scolding him. He was instantly captivated again by her smooth pussy, hurriedly opening his jeans to free his cock. She steadied herself for the next daring move. Balanced on one 5 inch heel she raised her other leg seductively, knee initially bent and toes pointed, then extended her leg above her shoulder to perform the standing splits. She whispered, "Bless my mother for sending me to ballet class!"

With just one hand anchored on the wall, Becci brought her pink pussy lips to his mouth. Paul grabbed her buttocks and devoured her. His tongue flicked wildly over her, licking and sucking her clit, then pushed into her vagina. "Oh sweet Jesus!" A jolt unsteadied her, but Paul caught her. She wrapped her leg around his shoulder, just managing to stay upright. He was still devouring her.

Becci breathlessly whispered, "Fuck me, fuck me you bastard!" She slid down his body, her hands quickly on his groin, and yanked his jeans down with all her strength. She dived on his hard cock, taking him deep into her mouth. Now on her knees, careful that her back was arched to look as sensual as she could, her head started to bob up and down taking him further into her mouth with each stroke.

Paul was transfixed by his perfect little slut, his wife. He could sense the blood pumping into his cock until it was so hard he felt it might explode. Becci's party piece was performing deep throat, and she did not disappoint. The back of her tongue was a little rougher, sending him crazy as the sensitive triangle underneath his glans slid over it. He held her head firmly with his cock buried in her throat. She was flushed and her muscles tensed. Her fingers extended as she struggled for air. Finally, he released her gasping.

Becci looked gloriously disheveled, with strands of hair stuck to her face and her chest heaving with each breath. She crawled up his legs and mounted him, holding the tip of his cock at her entrance. Pressing his face into her tits, she moved up and down slowly but intently, taking only the tip of his cock into her. The train slowed as it passed through a main station, but fortunately it didn't stop. She was fucking in front of an audience, but they were granted only a short time to watch her before the train passed out of view. She was safe inside their cabin.

Paul lost all control. He tossed her flat on her back on the seat and rammed into her, his pelvis slamming against hers, nailing her. "You asked.. f.. for a proper hard ff... fuck!" She wrapped her legs tightly around him and held on for dear life. As he finally came, she reached down to feel the base of his hard warm cock buried inside her and the last pulses of cum shoot into her. Her face was contorted in an almost simultaneous orgasm.

They lay entwined, holding and kissing each other. Paul asked if she'd remembered tissues? With possibly the most suggestive smile and twinkle in her eye he'd seen, Becci replied "Oops!" She glanced out of the window; they were passing through another residential area. She tilted her pelvis to limit spillage and milked the last of his cum from his penis into her as he withdrew. Scooping up his cum up with her hands she brought it to her lips, at first slurping it down, then as the flow stemmed licking the last of him from her fingers.

Becci gave his cock a little final attention and nuzzled into him. By now she was giggling and crimson, covering her face. Paul poured a glass of wine each, his heart pounding. The train raced along with Becci beside him, still stark naked save her heels, exposed to any fortunate voyeur outside.

She sipped the last of her wine, holding Paul's balls in her free hand and pressing her breasts into his arm. He was soon hard again, very hard. She looked at him longingly, "I loved the bit when you ruined my carefully choreographed routine, but would you like to see what I was going to do next?"

Becci straddled him again, this time with her back to him, and held his cock as she eased it inside her, "Listen to the clickety-clack of the train on the tracks..." She began to move the with the sound, "Hypnotic isn't it?" She took him deeper inside her, keeping with the rhythm of the train. She was now slamming fully down on him, grinding and twisting. Her back was arched, pelvis and bum thrust back, performing an erotic lap-dance with him inside her. A sex flush spread over her face and upper chest. Her breasts and nipples were so engorged; she desperately wanted him to grab and squeeze her tits. Somehow she sensed he was about to cum. Becci spun off Paul and dropped to her knees, wrapping her lips around him just in time.

It seemed as if only a few minutes had passed when they were disturbed by a knock on the door. Becci was startled, "The attendant!" and quickly pulled her silk kimono on, then checking Paul was decent she opened the door. Her kimono was short, barely coming to the top of her thighs. It was unquestionably in 'asking for it' territory, particularly paired with her ridiculously high strappy heels!

They filed out into the narrow corridor while the attendant prepared their bunks. Paul couldn't resist touching her under the disapproving eyes of two middle-aged women. He ran his hand up her thigh to cup her bum as the hem of her kimono slipped up exposing her once again in his embrace. They returned to their cabin to find the blind still open.