Liza Gets Triced

"Tell me what you thought about that night, afterwards." Chris and Liza are sitting on his couch, talking. It's been a couple of weeks since her blindfold adventure with the Stranger. She still has no idea if it was the blond guy on the bench or someone else. Chris hasn't said and she refuses to ask, not wanting to actually know because she fears the answer. Between that time, they have only seen each other once, and there has been no sex, there hasn't been any sex for a while, Liza realizes. His participation in their adventure had been limited and they haven't fucked in...forever. For a moment she wonders why, and then dismisses the thought. Their experiencing adventures together doesn't mean that she has any access to his 'real life' and what might be distracting him there.

Her face is flushing as she looks over at him, eyes alight, "It was amazing. I can't even begin to describe what a turn on it was. I fucked my husband every chance I got for the week after that, and he has no idea why!"

Chris starts chuckling, rubbing his hand on his knee absently. "An old ski accident." He answers when she mentions it. "I'm glad, I'm really glad you enjoyed it. I thought it was amazing too, I don't think I've ever been so turned on." A slight pause as he forms the words, "Would you be up for another adventure at some point, probably very soon?"

"Absolutely." Liza answers emphatically, her eyes glowing and a smile on her lips. "The same kind of adventure or something different?"

"Different, I think." Chris answers her thoughtfully. "I have something cooking in my brain and let me see if I can pull it together. You two are members of the Golf Club, right? Isn't the annual Member's Dinner coming up in the next few weeks?"

"Hubby is a member, yes." Liza responds, looking sideways at Chris. Her voice is sharp when she says, "We are NOT involving him in ANYTHING though. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Chris flaps his right hand impatiently at her. "I know, no spouses, ever. No worries." His voice is tight, and he stands up and walks over to the doorway and then back. Pacing.

Liza watches him and considers asking what is on his mind, but pauses, realizing once again, that although they have been as intimate as possible with their bodies, their lives remain completely separate, never to be discussed under any circumstances.

She hesitates and then asks, "Everything ok?" Not really expecting a truthful answer, or an actual confession of what might be causing the tension.

"Yes. I'm good." He smiles at her, teeth gleaming in the subdued light from the streetlights on the Square. A moment later he's back on the couch with her, hands pushing her shoulders and spine into the cushions as he straddles her body, knees on either side of her legs. His mouth on hers is demanding, more so than usual, harder, invading her mouth, pressing her neck painfully into the back of the couch. Sucking her tongue into his mouth, biting her, and it feels as though he is taking his aggression out on her. She can feel his hard cock against her stomach as he leans over her, pressing into her.

Liza puts a hand on his chest, pushing back, twisting her body trying to let him know that she's not enjoying this assault. Abruptly, Chris stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You should probably go." He says, voice cool, already turning towards the kitchen. "Tonight isn't the best timing. I'll talk to you later and we can get our plans made and lined up in the next week."

Hurt by his brusque dismissal, she rises from the couch and stares through the doorway at his back. He's shuffling items around on the table, clanking noises ensue as he puts their glasses into the sink and then strides into his office, closing the door behind him.

"Ok then." Liza mutters to herself as she descends the stairs and goes out into the late summer evening. It's cooler than daytime, but still humid and sticky. Resuming a slow jog, she meanders the blocks to home, pondering his unexpected change in attitude.

By the time she reaches home, she's ready for a shower and some time spent reading before bed. Not aroused in the least by Chris's juvenile behavior, she has no plans to wake her husband for sex tonight. While she showers, she ponders his question about the Golf Club. Member's Night is a tradition as old as the club itself, which has been around since her grandparents helped establish the club and golf course 50+ years ago. They have long since retired to a warmer clime but often come back for that event. She needs to phone her mom and find out if the whole family will be there...that might be an issue, depending upon what Chris has planned.

Her brain jumps again as she's toweling off. If Chris is a member, will he be there with his wife? Will she meet the wife and share pleasantries about the weather or the food? Be seated at the same table?

These horrifying thoughts occupy her mind as she settles onto the couch, dog at her feet, book in hand. Belatedly deciding that they aren't worth worrying over right this moment, she opens the novel to a bookmarked page and begins to read.

A week passes swiftly, and Chris remains uncommunicative, until two days before the Golf Club dinner. "Stop by tonight." His message reads, a demand that both angers and arouses her. She's never been bossed around by a male in her life, and this is an unexpected ongoing development in their relationship.

"Maybe. Why?" She responds aggressively, wondering how he will take her answer.

"I want you here, so just do it." She can hear the irritability in his typed words and wonders again just what is going on with him and how it will affect them going forward.

Now it's 10:30 that evening and she stops at his office door to see it propped open, so up the stairs she goes to his living area. Chris is seated at the café table in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine, there's another across from him obviously meant for her.

"What's up?" She asks as she sits down, pulls the glass to her and takes a long sip. She has the feeling she's going to need more than one glass tonight and is glad to see the bottle on the table with them. She can't read his mood, but there is a slight element of tension in the room that is apparent in his posture.

"How're you?" He asks, eyes studying her in the dim light.

"Good." She answers, "And you?" She thinks about how innocuous their conversation is, wondering what direction the discussion will take.

"Good, good." He replies absently, finger tracing a pattern on the table. "Here's the plan, if you're still in?" His eyes question her, his face tilted slightly.

"Yes, of course." Liza answers, holding her breath lightly as she waits for what he's going to say, sipping anxiously at her glass.

Chris speaks loudly, his voice strong and firm, "After the dinner is done and picked up, when they start the mingling and the door prizes stuff, you are going to head out to the Pro Shop part of the complex. No one should miss you for a long time and I'll meet you there." A pause, and he continues, "I won't be alone."

Liza hears his last sentence and shudders, this is exactly what she expected him to say and yet, the words arouse her instantly. "I don't know if I can wait another two days." She confesses, a plaintive tone in her voice. "I'm so fucking horny right now dude." Her palm is sweaty on the glass and she tips it up to her mouth, swallowing the rest of the wine. She wonders if he will dismiss her again or welcome her blunt words.

"Good thing I planned ahead." Chris says, then stands up and pulls the blindfold out of his pocket. "Go in my office, take your clothes off, put this on, bend over the front of my desk and then spread your fucking legs as wide as you can."

More orders and this time Liza is enraptured with them. She doesn't hesitate to take the blindfold and go into the office, just as he has demanded. Moments later, she's naked, shivering in the cold of the air conditioning, leaning on his desk, her body bent over the desk, blonde hair hanging over eyes covered with the blindfold once again. This, too, is a new direction in their relationship and she's finding it intoxicating.

Chris comes into the office, and she feels his cold hands on her hips as he stands behind her. She's dripping with anticipation, and when his hand touches her slit, fingers sliding up and down before entering her and teasing her, one finger, then two, pressing in, deeper and deeper. He's leaning on her, his weight on her back and his other hand comes around to fondle her breast, squeezing gently, then more firmly, his fingers teasing her nipple erect. Liza is moaning aloud, meeting the thrusting of his fingers eagerly. Anticipating his cock inside of her, driving her wild with more orgasms.

As he pulls his soaking wet fingers from inside her and she feels the head of his cock against her, her head jerks up with alarm. It's not Chris; that's not his dick, it's wider and thicker and it's ramming up inside her before she can open her mouth to object. His hands are on her hips, his body across her back as he thrusts harder and harder, sliding in and out easily in her slick cunt.

Liza shifts her legs out, bending further over the empty desk in an effort to accommodate this cock. It's not painful, just uncomfortable and not at all what she expected. Her brain wants her mouth to communicate this somehow, but instead she finds a grunt exploding from her mouth as he goes completely into her, stretching her in a way she hasn't felt ever before. His arms are around her waist, then on her shoulders as he tries to balance himself without placing his full weight on her back.

"Who.." She manages to say before his hand covers her mouth gently and he whispers, "Shhhhhh, quiet now Liza," into her right ear. She can smell herself on his hand, the scent earthy and sweet at the same time. His hand returns to her hips, gripping her as he's nearly slamming her body into the desk. The thrusting continues, Liza alternately moaning and gasping with his movement.

"Fuck I'm cumming already. You are so fucking wet and tight." He bites the ridge of her shoulder, teeth sharp as he sinks them into her skin. Dragging his tongue against her skin, his mouth travels to her ear again, "I'm cumming in you Liza. Right, fucking, NOW!"

Hearing her name on his lips makes her cum again, instantly drowning in lust for this man and the hard fucking he's providing. His ease of use with her name makes her wonder who he is, if he knows her, if her name comes naturally from his mouth or if he's yet another Stranger to her. And then she's swept away in the orgasm that explodes as he does, deep inside her. Pumping, gulping, his arms clutch her around her waist again, elbows resting on the desk. He is breathing heavily against her skin, breath hot and damp. His tongue licks her sweaty skin as if he can't get enough of the way she tastes.

"Fuck that was so gooood." He draws the word out, his deflating cock sliding from inside her, stepping back away from her. Releasing her to slump onto the desk, legs feeling like overcooked pasta noodles.

"Stay right where you are, count to 100 SLOWLY." He tells her. "Thank you very much darlin', I'd love to have that cunt of yours again. Hope we can do this again real soon. Maybe next time we can convince Chris to join us." Liza can hear the smile in his voice along with a slight drawl, and then the door closes as he leaves the room.

She's done counting, the blindfold comes off and she places it very prominently in the center of the desk. Liza quickly dresses herself and exits the office. The apartment is empty, she expected that. Chris is gone, the only light on is the one he leaves in the kitchen where she sees the bottle of wine still on the table. Gulping a deep swallow from the bottle, she carries it to the fridge and puts it away.

Down the stairs she goes, once again asking herself just what the fuck had happened tonight, how Chris had set her up without giving her a clue. Her body is sated, and she knows that having the Stranger fuck her tonight was obviously his plan all along. The man must have been somewhere in the apartment, biding his time until Chris sent her into the office. Listening to them talk about the event Saturday, so obviously he is a confidant of Chris. Liza has ALL the questions for that man after tonight's adventure.

Walking blindly towards home, her legs stiff from the awkward position she held for too long, she ponders what exactly Chris has in mind for the event two days from now. Is he orchestrating or participating? The possibilities seem endless.