Bound to Please

Hands moved over my naked body, exploring every inch of flesh. They were teasing my inner thighs. Caressing my breasts. Squeezing my buttocks. Four hands? Six? I couldn’t tell for sure.

I was blindfolded, bound spread-eagle, face-up, on the mattress, my limbs secured to the bedposts. There was no way of telling how long I had been here. One hour? Three? I had been drifting in and out of sleep when suddenly the door slammed open, and they started touching me.

Now someone was tonguing the soles of my feet while another was fingering my asshole. I couldn’t help but moan. It felt so surreal, so sensual. My ass has always been incredibly sensitive. A thick finger pushed all the way in, and it made my clit pulse.

No one spoke. I could hear heavy breathing and the rustle of clothing, the sound of zippers going down, but that was about it. One of them had to be my husband, right? After all, this was his fantasy.

About a month back we were basking in the afterglow of some really good Saturday morning sex when I asked him what he wanted for our second anniversary, and he told me. Andrew has always been more sexually adventuresome than me, so the B&D scenario he described didn’t come as a complete surprise. He told me he wanted to tie me up for the whole day, to use and lightly abuse me as he saw fit. He mentioned a safe word. And then he mentioned that he’d like to invite friends. That part was definitely a surprise. I didn’t answer right off, and he didn’t press the issue. But over the next few days the idea kept hijacking my mind at the most inopportune times—at business lunches, in meetings—till it was all I could think about. When Andrew’s fantasy became mine, I said yes.

I was pretty sure now that there were three men. After two years of marriage I should have known which one was my darling husband. I didn’t. And when someone sucked my clit between their lips, I didn’t care. My hips bucked off the bed, and I struggled against the bonds that held my wrists. I wanted to hold his head to my puss. Fuck! The ties dug into my flesh and made the sex sweetly painful and delicious.

A second tongue dicked between my labes. A third danced over my nipples. Not being able to see seemed to heighten my other senses. I smelled manly, musky sweat, heard the sloppy, wet sounds of
tongues slapping against my flesh and felt—well, had anything ever felt so extreme, so wonderful? I started trembling in my restraints, and a climax crashed through my body like a freight train. It left me completely sated, relaxed, limp.

But it seemed that these boys, my lovers, had only begun to play. A smooth, fat crown nudged at my mouth from the right-hand side of the bed. I sucked it in seconds before a throbber prodded at
my lips from the left. Stretching my mouth to its limits, I nursed on both thick cocks as a third shoved into my pussy. Damn, I felt so totally full, so totally fucked.

In “real life” I’m employed as a corporate consultant, an efficiency expert, and as such, I’m a total control freak. Now all control had been wrested from me, and I was nothing but a rag doll, open, vulnerable, at the mercy of three men, two of them strangers. To my surprise, I loved it!

Suddenly I wanted to be as good a lay as these men had ever had. I wanted to make a lasting impression. I wanted to make my husband proud. Sucking hard, I hoovered those cocks back to my throat. Drool started flowing down my chin. Concentrating on my pussy muscles, I clutched and released, clutched and released over and over again.

Balls spanked my ass cheeks with every lunge. Dicks were jamming in and out of my mouth, sometimes together, sometimes one at a time. All three men were grunting and moaning. My climax built and built till it turned multiple. My first multiple! And then, as if by signal, all three men pulled back. I could hear a slap, slap, slap, and hot lines of cum rained down over my face and body! One after another my lovers spray-painted my flesh with jism as I writhed in my bonds. Absolute heaven.

And then nothing. I heard the bedroom door close, and I allowed myself to sink into the mattress. Ten minutes passed. Maybe 20. My pussy started to feel empty, and I was aching for their touch. I could hear them in the kitchen, talking, laughing.

God, I hope they come back soon.