The Phone Number

Regardless of what he imagined, I had not cheated on Drake. A stray phone number, belonging to my sister, had found its way into my purse after a night out, and when it dropped out onto the floor at the grocery store, he had seen it and thought the worst. Little did I imagine how he planned on dealing with it when we got home.

Drake grabbed me by the arm, his green eyes blazing, and pulled me into the bedroom, tossing me roughly back into the bed. "Who is he?" He demanded.

"Some guy that was hitting on my sister. She didn't have her purse, so she put the number in there," I said, voice shaking, my eyes meeting his. Surely, he had to know that I wasn't lying. I had never been with anyone other than Drake, and he had to know that!

"Take off your shirt."

His statement was so simple and unexpected that I did it without thinking, taking off the scoop neck top and exposing a delicate yellow bra that contrasted prettily with my Hispanic complexion. Drake was silent as he looked me over, eyes on my full breasts as they heaved with every breath.

"Now the shorts," he demanded. "If you are wearing underwear, that needs to come off."

"Drake-" I began, even though I was fumbling with my shorts to get them off.

He cut me off. "Just do as I say. You're mine, and I love you. I'm going to remind you how much I love you right now."

I was not sure whether or not I should be frightened, and my stomach fluttered, though the demand in his tone, so startling, so gruff, was sexy to me, and I was ready to take whatever he was about to give me.

"I want you on your stomach, in the middle of the bed, arms and legs spread." He did not wait for me to do it, he turned and began to rummage through the dresser. I complied, propping a pillow under my chin.

Imagine my shock when I felt the silk of a tie bind my eyes. Blind to what Drake was doing, I could not help but pant a little.

I did not know what he was using when he tied each of my limbs to the corners of the four poster bed. Never had he done this before, and despite the temptations of a four poster, in five years, we had never used the posters for anything like this. Vulnerable, unaware of what went on around me as the room fell eerily silent, I asked meekly, "What are you doing?"

"Whatever I want," came the heated reply.

I felt the stinging slap of his hand on my ass next, crying out and squirming, unprepared for another slap on the other cheek. "You like that, don't you?" He asked, getting only a quick nod from me, for it was true. I liked it, and the more he did it, the hotter my skin felt and the more I squirmed. "That ass is mine." The final slap stung the hardest, and I struggled against the ties, wetness gathering between my legs.

He reached up under me, large, manly hands running up along my dampened slit, fingers lazy as he played with my already engorged clitoris. I moaned, wiggling down against his fingers, letting out a little howl as another slap came. "That pussy is mine too," he whispered, leaning close so that I could feel his breath on the stinging skin.

"Always," I whispered back, near tears with the pain, mild fright, and excitement coursing through my body.

"That's right."

More than one finger slid up into the soaking depths of my pussy, and I moved my hips against them. Then, they slid out, moving up between my ass cheeks, wet as they circled the little opening. I shuddered, feeling his weight shift behind me as he entered both my rear and my pussy with his fingers, beginning a slow, delicious, alternating stroke. As a single finger slid out of my ass, what felt like three thrust into my pussy. I gasped, my hips writhing in a serpentine manner against him.

"This cock is yours, and it's the only one you can have." Fingers left my pussy, and I screamed as I felt the thick head of his cock slam into me. He held it there, letting me grind back as well as I could, my hands grabbing at whatever held me fast. His finger slid to the hilt within my ass, and slowly, he pulled it out.

His hips moved slow against me, and I relished in the sensation, barely even taking notice when I heard the familiar whir of a vibrator.

Dear God, I thought, he's taking both entrances.

"Tell me your mine," he commanded as the vibrator teased my ass, not yet entering, though the tickle against skin so sensitive hardly made it necessary.

"I'm yours, Drake. Always. This pussy is yours. Take that ass! It's yours to fuck." The words barely came out, and I emphasized them with the hardest thrust back I could manage, his cock driven deep into me, and the vibrator filling my ass at the same time.

There were no more words for what felt like a long time. The pleasure was electrifying as Drake manipulated me, filling me entirely. Each stroke was harder than the last, and each stroke just wasn't hard enough. Before long, I found myself begging him to fuck me harder, my breaths ragged and my heart racing. When the orgasm came, it was explosive, and I was nearly in tears as he finished, pulling both vibrator and cock from my body and slapping the throbbing member against my ass cheeks as the warm spurts of come blasted forth. He shuddered, and for a long moment, there was only silence.

Moments later, he untied my hands and feet, and allowed me to remove the blindfold. Drake took me into his arms, a warm smile on his lips.

"By the way, I know that number belonged to your sister. I trust you."

"So why the show?" I asked, though I hardly regretted it.

He licked his lips and smiled. "Why not?"

We both began to giggle.