The Thrill Of It All Ch 02

Copyright © May 2022 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. All sexually active characters in this story are over 18. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

This is a second part to the series. Although it is self-contained from a story perspective, I would recommend you read the earlier chapters as there will be references which make more sense if you have read from the start.

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As they pulled away from the office, Roberta couldn't help herself but have a glance over her shoulder. Diana was gone, but the thought of the young secretary watching Roberta as she met her husband was still in very much in her mind. Oh yes, that, and the feeling of those balls jiggling inside as John accelerated away.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" John remarked, taking his wife by surprise.

"Who?" Roberta responded, not sure where John was going with his idle comment.

"You know. The tiny blonde with the not so tiny tits," John replied, his voice calm and considered. "Who is she?"

"What... Diana?" Roberta replied.

"Diana, is it?" John continued to tease.

"And what about her? She's one of the receptionists," Roberta started to answer, before suddenly taking the bait. "Anyway... what do you mean, beautiful!"

"Obviously not as beautiful as you are, my darling," John dug himself out of a potential hole, "but you must admit there is something about... what was her name... Diana... and, from the way she was watching, I reckon she has the hots for you."

"Me?" Roberta responded. "Do you really think I'm interested in another woman, and if I was, do you think I'd be going after someone like Diana?"

By now they had left the city behind and were speeding out into the countryside. The roads had become narrow and twisty, the surfaces uneven, and Roberta even more aroused as the balls worked their magic inside. Roberta gasped as the car bounced over a hump in the road, and her hidden toy hit that special spot.

"Was it something I said?" John asked.

As if for emphasis, he turned hard into the next corner, and Roberta felt the balls shift once more. She bit her lip and tried to let the excitement subside, before responding. As she did, the penny suddenly dropped.

"Oh, I get it now," Roberta commented. "Who is she... isn't she beautiful... if I'm not mistaken, my darling husband likes the young Diana. Is that it? Are you looking for another woman... someone younger... someone prettier... someone... fitter?"

"No... no... of course not," John immediately protested. "You'll always be the one for me. I was just... well... haven't you ever..."

"Ever what?" Roberta asked, uncertain of what John was about to say.

For a moment all went quiet. It was unlike John. He was normally very direct, very transparent, very open... and so was Roberta. They had built their marriage about being honest to each other... oh, and yes, about the sex. The one thing they didn't do was keep secrets from each other, well... not serious secrets. There were some areas where they knew not to go, but otherwise it was a no holds barred sort of marriage.

"You know..." John responded. "Don't you sometimes wonder?"

"Wonder?" Roberta teased. Oh yes, for sure she wondered about things, but that was the sort of secret you did keep to yourself.

"Well... what it would be like... to have..." John started to explain, all the time losing his confidence.

"I do believe my darling husband wants another woman. Am I right? Is that your fantasy?"

John didn't know what to say. He wasn't usually lost for words, but Roberta's sudden directness had taken him aback.

"The question is..." Roberta continued, "does he want to go with another woman, or is it that one woman isn't enough, and he dreams of two? What is it my darling? Is it her you want, or is it both of us?"

Before John had the chance to say anything, Roberta chipped in again.

"Oh, and don't even think about Diana... you'll kill the young thing with that huge cock of yours."

Was Roberta shocked? Not at all. She would admit to being surprised, even intrigued, but never to being shocked. It was no different to the first time he had introduced her to blindfolds, cuffs, and other such restraints. Was she shocked then? Well... just a little if truth be known... but no more. John had taken her to places she had never dreamed of. This though... this broke the one taboo they had in their life... the promise to keep it to just the two of them. It was only a fantasy though, not like he meant it, and it wasn't like Roberta didn't have her own fantasies.

"Go on then, John," Roberta suggested. "Tell me what you'd do with her?"

"What?" John responded.

"I want to know," Roberta replied. "I want to know everything."

The car swung around another bend, and those balls jiggled inside once more. Roberta bit her lip to stifle a moan. She was on edge--she had been ever since easing the toy inside her tight pussy--and the thought of her husband with another woman was adding an unexpected excitement.

There was silence for a moment, before John started to respond.

"Think of it..." John started, his voice becoming a most seductive whisper. "A pussy to eat and a pussy to fuck... what more could a man want... just lying there, one lover sitting across my face, another straddling my huge cock..."

Without thinking, Roberta closed her eyes and let herself be drawn into the scene her husband was painting.

"Or..." John continued. "Is it a pussy to fuck, and a pussy to be eaten? Oh yes, on all fours, her mouth pressed firmly against her lover's sweet sex, her ass pointing upwards, just waiting to for me to impale her with my huge..."

This time, there was a moan, a soft sensual moan. As she listened to her husband's narrated fantasy, Roberta found her own desires stirring. Before long, the urge had become too much, and Roberta had brought a hand down between her legs. The remaining three buttons on the skirt had been easy to undo, and she was now gently rubbing at the ache beneath her knickers.

"Yes... like that..." John continued, "a soft moan... a passionate moan... a there, right there, fuck me hard, fuck me fast, sort of moan. Can you hear her, Roberta? Can you hear them, Roberta? Can you imagine being fucked as you eat her out? Can you imagine watching her being fucked as she eats you out? Can you imagine kissing her as the two of you straddle me?"

Roberta moaned again; this time was louder. Oh yes, she could imagine. She could see the images fill her mind. They were not John's images though. Her mind was somewhere else. What started as his fantasy, had soon morphed into her own. There were three of them, but that was where the similarities ended. Roberta's fantasy was a more sordid affair. What filled her mind was a fantasy she had held on to for such a long time, but that was all it was, a fantasy, a dream which was never destined to become reality.

Every detail was like Roberta was there, living the moment. All was black. The soft blindfold put pay to her sight, but she knew where she was. She was bent over, the hardness of a wooden table top digging into the front of her upper thighs. She tried to struggle, or at least to ease the discomfort, but there was nowhere she could go. Ropes had put pay to movement, just as the blindfold had put pay to sight.

From the way she was standing, with her legs splayed at one end of the table and her head hanging over the other, Roberta knew she was there to be taken. She could feel the twine wrapped tightly around wrists and ankles, unforgiving, unmoving, presenting her ready for... for what... for who?

All the time, as Roberta lived the imaginary excitement of being taken this way, she continued to take care of the real-life desires within those wet knickers. Her fires were raging, and all she could do was keep rubbing. She wanted to thrust her fingers inside, but her pussy was already filled with the hidden jiggle balls. They would move and Roberta would purr with delight.

Back in her fantasy, Roberta felt what had to be a cock against her ass. Was it John? Was he going to take her as only he could, pummelling her into submission, taking Roberta in her moment of vulnerability? Roberta's heart pounded and she moaned out loud, as she felt what she imagined to be his cock nudge up against her sodden sex.

Reality and make-believe were blurring into one. Roberta eased her fingers under the gusset of her knickers. She was so wet. She was so close.

Something was different though... something unexpected in her fantasy... something strange. With the blindfold on, she couldn't tell, but something just didn't feel right. Did he feel bigger than normal? Did he feel harder than normal? Did he feel colder than normal? In her fantasy world, she felt the cock rub along her slick inner lips.

She gasped as it caught her clit.

She moaned as it rimmed her hole.

She squealed as... she felt it. There was a second cock. She could smell the stale saltiness beneath her nose. She could sense the nudge of soft foreskin against her lips. As one cock thrust firmly against her opening, Roberta moaned out into the darkness. The minute she did, the second cock took advantage of her gaping mouth and pushed inside. She was so excited. She was so scared. She was so needing to be fucked and fucked hard.

'Why?' Roberta screamed in her subconscious.

Why did it always end like this?

Why did her dream-like fantasy always end without satisfaction?

Why was it so quiet?

Something had changed. Her fantasy world faded away, and in that moment, Roberta could hear nothing, could feel nothing. Not in her fantasy, nor in the material world. Other than her panted breath, there was silence. John was no longer narrating his own fantasy threesome. There wasn't even the background drone of the engine. Had they come to a halt? Had they reached the restaurant?

Roberta opened her eyes and glanced out of the window. They had indeed drawn to a stop in a car park. It was busy already, about half full, with more cars pulling up around them. If this was the restaurant, then it sure was popular.

Reluctantly, Roberta removed her fingers from under the gusset of her knickers. The flush in her cheeks, the shallowness of her breathing, told just how close she had been. With a look of disappointment etched onto her face, Roberta turned towards her husband. He wasn't looking towards her, well... not towards her face. His eyes were fixed on Roberta's legs, that patch of pale bare thigh, where stay-ups ended and before sheer black knickers covered her modesty. That said, there was little modesty to be offered by the fine mesh knickers, and in their state of dampness they seemed even more transparent than before.

Damp?

They were more than damp. Those knickers were now just as wet as her slick sex within. Roberta sat there, legs splayed, giving her husband an eyeful, waiting for what was to come next. In her mind she knew what she wanted to come, or more to the point who she wanted to be cumming. She waited for John to make his move.

John already had a good idea what his move would be. He had listened attentively as Roberta succumbed to her own arousal. He had watched avidly, the moment they had parked up, as his wife toyed with her pussy. She was so hot. She was so exciting. She was so slutty. John loved his darling wife, and he knew how Roberta liked to be controlled, to follow orders, to be taken out of her comfort zone. What John had in mind would do just that, and what was more, he was sure Roberta would love every minute of it. For now, though, his plan would remain a secret.

"Ready?" John asked.

Roberta nodded her head, a soft moaned affirmative telling him what she hoped he wanted to hear. She was ready all right, ready to have him ravage her, ready to feel the tidal wave of climax consume her. Roberta never thought that John could mean anything else.

"Then come on," John added. "They don't offer a drive through service."

At first, Roberta hesitated. She was confused. How could he leave her this way, so close to satisfaction? She was offering it on a plate for him, and John was turning it down. He never turned it down.

"I mean it," John continued, "dinner's not going to come to you, so let's get going."

Roberta looked at her husband, expecting to see him relent, expecting to hear him laugh and suggest he was only joking, expecting him to rescue her in her moment of need. John didn't. His expressionless face told Roberta he was downright serious about dinner, and when he unfastened his seatbelt, Roberta knew John wasn't about to change his mind. Putting her disappointment aside, Roberta undid her own seatbelt, then reached down and started to do up the front of her skirt. She had only managed one button, when John interrupted.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

Roberta stopped and stared at her husband. Wasn't it obvious?

"Did I say you could button back up?" John asked.

"But..." Roberta responded, "what about my knickers?"

"Oh yes... your knickers... your wet knickers," John acknowledged. "Well... take them off."

"What!" Roberta exclaimed, somehow shocked by his bluntness.

"Yes, I promised you could take then off at the restaurant, so you can either do it here or sat at our table inside. Your choice, my darling."

That wasn't quite what Roberta had meant when she brought up the topic of her underwear. She wasn't protesting about the dampness of her knickers, but more about the risk of flashing them to all and sundry. Now there was a second risk, that of flashing more than just her knickers, or even of having strangers watch her remove her knickers.

Despite the obvious risk, Roberta's heart was pounding. This was John. This was what he did to her. This was what she found so exhilarating. This was what she loved about her dominant husband. It was the thrill of it all, but always in the knowledge that she was never really in danger.

Roberta was used to John getting his own way, but this time it was different. In her mind she was shocked and excited at the same time. It was Roberta's choice to make, just as the clothes she wore were also her choice, yet she was so not in control of her actions. Was that what made it so exciting? John would normally command, even demand, and Roberta would follow.

Here though she was being given the choice. Two options, both not without risk, both taboo, and both equally exciting. Yes, the restaurant scared her. Could she slip them off discreetly without anyone seeing? Roberta wasn't sure. Was it too big a risk? Momentarily, she closed her eyes and imagined, sitting at the table, shuffling on her chair as she eased the skimpy knickers down her legs.

Her mind was running away with her, fighting the case for here or there. What if they were watching her? What if the waiter chose that very moment to come over and ask if they wanted anything to eat? But... what if she pulled it off? What if she did manage to slip out of those knickers without being seen. What was John really wanting from her? Would he be disappointed if she chose the wrong option?

There again, if she took them off in the car, would it be any less risk? He wasn't going to let her do up the front of her skirt, so it wouldn't be wet knickers she was flashing at people. God, even that was thrilling. Could she protect her modesty? Did she want to protect her modesty? Did she mind if the odd eye noticed her predicament? It was what Roberta lived for, the thrill, and the rewards.

She had a choice to make but there was only one answer. In a full skirt, with ease of access, the restaurant would have been the obvious choice. This was far from a full skirt though, and she also had her hidden little secret to take care of. Roberta turned to her husband. She gave him a cheeky smile, pulled her legs together, then lifted in her seat. Reaching up inside the half-undone skirt, she looped her fingers over the waistband of her knickers and slowly eased them down.

Never once did Roberta break her gaze, all the time staring deep into John's face. Never once did he break his either, John's eyes transfixed on those knickers and the way his wife teased him by slowly inching them down her legs, revealing her soft shaven mound. John smiled. It wasn't just a feast for his eyes. As Roberta inched her knickers down over her stay-ups, he could smell the intoxicating scent of arousal.

Reaching knee level, Roberta sat down in her seat once more. She brought her knees up towards her chest, not so easy in the confined space, and slipped the knickers down to her ankles. Finally, she worked them over her heels, and presented the sodden garment to her husband as a sort of trophy. John took the knickers to his nose and inhaled deeply. Oh yes, it was a most pleasurable scent.

"Do you like them? Do you like the smell of my sweet sex?" Roberta asked, her cheeky smile morphing into a more seductive pout. As she gained her husband's attention, Roberta continued. "Would you like to see more?"

Slowly, Roberta opened her legs once more. Her slit, glistening with love juices, smiled back at John. That wasn't all. Hanging temptingly down, appearing from deep between her soft folds, was a loop of black cord. John smiled. He had felt something that very moment when he ran his hand over his wife's knickers before leaving the office. Now he knew what secret his darling wife was hiding. He wasn't going to admit it, not yet, but Roberta had most definitely impressed.

"What about this?" Roberta asked, giving the loop a gentle tug, and gasping as the balls slid inside. "Should I take this off as well?"

It was a simple smile from John which told her the answer.

God, she felt so slutty.

God, she felt so excited.

God, she felt so aroused.

Turning her attention to her sodden pussy, Roberta pulled slowly on the cord. The lowest ball started to move, sliding against her tight pussy walls. Roberta bit her lip, but it was too much. She felt the stretch in her opening as shiny silver started to show. She moaned as first one ball then the other emerged from deep within. Holding the glistening toy up to her husband, Roberta sat there, empty.

"What now?" Roberta asked, once more pouting seductively at her husband, hoping he would take advantage of her situation. As if to emphasise the point, one by one, she took those silver balls up to her mouth and lapped at her own sweet juices.

"Now we eat," John responded.

"Oh yes," Roberta replied, excitement filling her mind at the thought of him going down on her sodden sex. She twisted slightly in her seat, further towards her husband, and eased her legs as far apart as she could. Roberta held her breath and waited. What came next though, was not what she desired. Instead of going down on her, John simply opened his car door and got out. As he stood up in the cool evening air, he turned back to Roberta.

"Are you coming?" John asked, closing his door behind him, and walking around to the passenger side of the car.

Roberta gave him a wry smile as she watched her husband through the front window. Cumming? Yes, she would have been so happy to have been cumming, but it wasn't to be. She loved her husband, even if, in this very moment, she detested the control he had. Why was he being so mean? There again, what could she do about it, and what did she want to do about it. Roberta loved his directness. She loved to be ordered, to be told what to do, to submit to his every desire. If John wanted to let her cum, he would have done. If he didn't, then Roberta would not complain.