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The Bet!

You notice him glancing at his watch for the third time in the last ten minutes and wonder why. Why do should he care what time it is on a Sunday afternoon. When you ask he says that it is nothing and that he just wondered what time it was. You let it pass. Then the phone rings and he rushes to answer it. When he quickly hangs up with a mumbled explanation about a wrong number, you again begin to think something must be up. BUT WHAT?

Five minutes later, at his suggestion you are downstairs in the basement shooting some pool. HUH? He responds, "Nothing." He is showing you the same attention, the little caresses, pats on the ass, squeezes as you pass around the table, usually reserved for when playmates are visiting. WHAT'S UP? He just grins and says, "What?"

The stakes are set for the loser to submit to ANY request of the winner. You don't mind thinking, either way you will probably cum out a winner. So the game proceeds, much too slowly for your tastes. You almost shoot in the black ball purposely just to get to the fun. Your competitive instincts plus your desire to command any wish to be fulfilled keeps you in the game. You surprise him and yourself by successfully making three balls in a row. Maybe you have got a shot at this game after all. But then he runs the rest if the table, he is a demon and can't be distracted and is totally focused until the last ball falls in its designated pocket.

THEN he sees you again and looks with an expression strange in its aura. There is much power in the look, stronger than any you have seen before. He strides up to you kisses you passionately. You are amazed at the strength with which he holds the back of your head. The fierceness of his mouth, there is a hunger that belies thirty years of familiarity. Your knees suddenly weaken. There is no chance of you falling though as you now find yourself being lifted from the floor. The kiss seems to never end and you are suddenly aware of the wetness between your legs. You are not perspiring. You are damp from desire.

As you are returned to the floor you remain mentally in this world of passion, still floating in wonderment. As his lips finally, and all too soon, part from yours you are left slowly trying to regain your composure. It is a lost cause, a waste of time. You almost whimper as his hold on you breaks and he turns away. As you start to protest he commands ... that is the only way to describe his request ... he COMMANDS you to stand there and to be absolutely quiet. He doesn't raise his voice. There are no accompanying dirty or strained looks. In fact he smiles, as he makes his request. Yet it comes off as a command as he demands your silence. You of course comply ... you are entranced. You really have no choice but to obey! There was the bet and all.

He then explains the payment of your bet is for you to remain silent for one hour. You may do anything else you want and are able but you may not utter a word for sixty minutes. Sounds are fine, he suggests that you won’t be able to control them. But no questions, remarks, observations or utterances until the agreed time expires.

He returns and crosses around to stand directly behind you. Then your world is plunged into semi darkness as he applies a blind fold over your eyes. You again start to utter a protest but are quickly shushed. You receive a not so playful swat to your left buttock for your troubles. OK you can play this game. Suddenly you realize you like this game. But is it a game? … Not really, nothing could be closer to what the real world should be like.

The little bit of light that seeps in around the edges of your mask is suddenly blotted out as a silk scarf is tied around your head. As you raise your hands to adjust it you find your hands in the vise like grip of your man. You shrug and are rewarded again with a quick slap to your rump. Your T-shirt is quickly lifted, almost torn up and over your head it is left twisted around and between your hands and wrists and you start to “help” by trying to wiggle free but are again held fast and told to not resist his empowerment. You comply and chuckle ... nervously.

As the hands reduce their pressure you feel his hot breath trail around your neck past your right ear and over your cheek, nose and other cheek. Your lips part and you satisfy your urge to lick your suddenly very dry lips. Your tongue lingers anticipating, hoping, and yearning to be shoved back into its vestibule by his tongue. He doesn't disappoint and again you taste the passion of his kiss. With this kiss you feel your hands being pulled over and behind your head and he holds both wrists with the ease that a father might pin a child. You half expect to feel the raspberries being blown into your naked navel. But instead you feel the wetness of his mouth against yours. A wetness being matched by that forming between your legs.

Your wrists are being bound by a course manacle. Is it leather? Rawhide? You didn't know he possessed such a thing. You sense as much as hear the ends of your cuffs being weaved through a wheel in the rafters. What has he rigged for his games? Your hands suspend above your head to the point just short of discomfort. Damn, why is it you never look up? If you had you might have anticipated his game. You wonder what he has in mind but you don't dare ask. Also why was he concerned about the time earlier? Why would he seem to be following a timetable?

With a peck on the lips and a squeeze of your left hip he walks away. Suddenly there is loud music as he has punched the button on the stereo he has apparently secreted into the basement. For what purpose? He seems to be drowning out all the background house noises. Your man wants you deaf as well as blind. BUT WHY??? You are left alone and Bolero drowns on.

You hear – no you feel his hurried footsteps across the floor above and then the murmur of his voice. Or is it voices? The slamming of a door, more footsteps, how many? Bits of laughter, glimpses of strange noises and Bolero drowns on. The rhythm causes you to sway with the music. Your hips pendulum slowly almost imperceptibly with the music. Is it the music causing the movement or the urge to dry the dampness that still lingers below your pubes? … You sense the displacement of air and you conclude you are no longer alone! He has returned … or someone has, SomeONE?

You endeavor to hear above the music, no chance. You resort to your sense of smell and attempt to capture some strange scent in the air that might solve this mystery. You sniff like some animal and think that “animal” is appropriate. You need think only of the lust in your groin to know that there is much animal in you this day. You want to be taken like a doe in rut and would gladly drop to all fours and submit to the buck, any big buck that prized your pussy. You sniff uncontrollably. Now searching for some strange scent that might reveal the identity of your companion or companions. Yes, there is a strange odor wafting gently to your nostrils. What is it? Damn! WHO is it? Then, sudden recognition, MY GOD, it is you. It is your sex, the muskiness of want, of a wanton tramp mired in dire need.


Then you feel the brush of a finger across your shoulder across the strap of your bra. You want to ask who is there but you have promised. Your word forbids you. It seals your mouth shut tighter than the bindings around your blood drained wrists. The finger traces across the back of your neck and leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake. At your right shoulder the strap of your bra is lifted and is tugged from your clavicle and slides down your arm. At the same instant you feel a breath at your hip. A hand across your left breast, a lick on your belly and a slap on your behind. A man would have to be a contortionist. Man, men? Or maybe a woman? Women? You feel the dampness trickle across your vulva. Your lips quiver, and not the ones on your face. On a face is exactly where you want these lips. But who’s face? Bolero beats to the pulsing of your lips.

Your bra is removed almost magically and your nipples respond to this new freedom by beginning a journey, a pilgrimage. They seem to have left even the confines of their breasts and are traveling in search of a mouth. You shudder at the realization that they search for ANY mouth. They seem to lift the firm breast muscles and pull in a monumental effort for the attention they desperately desire and deserve. Their efforts are rewarded as you feel the touch of a mouth and tongue working over the ridged protrusion from your left breast. Your efforts at recognition are thwarted by the ecstatic waves that ripple from your chest, past your belly to deep WITHIN the darkest recesses of your groin. You are amazed as your first orgasm hits and crashes over you like a wave over the sand walls of a castle on a beach. - No way to stop it and it is all encompassing as it hits.

Before there is an opportunity to control your release your shorts are tugged off and instantly you feel the hard crack of a palm across your ass. Again, AGAIN! A tongue is thrust into your navel and you feel both nipples lifted and squeezed. Again the slap, slap, SLAP. You squirm, NOT in an effort to avoid the hand but because the sting has triggered another flow of juices from your puss. Your second orgasm brings on a weakness in your legs and you slump slightly putting a strain on your bound arms. You feel strong hands on your hips and smile for you expect relief from the pain in your arms as he lifts and steadies you. Instead the hands grasp the thin strips of material that cross your hips and shred your panties from your body. You know you should be annoyed and upset but the relief you feel from the freeing of your sex belies any false dignity society expects. All YOU expect is for someone to take you. For them all to take you. You hope there are many hard pulsing cocks in the room because you know it is going to take much more than your usual fuck to quench the thirst you have now. To quell the inferno that is rampaging below your bush. A bush fire so out of control that a team of muscled firemen probably couldn’t contain it. YOU are out of control and you pray that your man has invited additional lovers to assist in putting out this blaze he has kindled.


Then with the suddenness of a lightening bolt powerful hands lift your legs. You are half hanging and half being raised higher and higher. You instinctively wrap your legs around the waste of the man before you and pull his manhood close to you. You scream as he releases his hold on your hips and you thrust down around him. You engulf his cock and pleasure in its hardness. You hump madly on him like the beast you have become, a true sexual animal. As you experience your ultimate and most earth shattering orgasm ever you laugh at the silly bonds society has burdened you with to date. Your new freedom overwhelms you as you continue to hump the dick that pulses in you. There is a strangeness about it that further excites you. It is larger and more filling than any you have experienced to date.

The thrusting, probing and ramming continues for what seems like a short eternity until you can’t take the sensations any more. It is at this point that the pace increases and the rhythm intensifies and the urgency reaches a new height. You feel the hardness intensify, the size of him growing, hitting spots that ‘till now you never imagined could be reached. That’s it. YES, again. That’s the spot! Hit it. Again AGAIN! He is SO HARD INSIDE YOU that you know it will be soon. You pray it will be soon because you know YOU can’t take it much longer. There is a limit to even the pleasure one can endure. Please dear god; make him cum in me, you pray. Then as he finally releases his seed you confirm there is a god because you have been transported to place previously never visited. It must be heaven because there could never be a place this good on earth.

You attempt to control your breathing, and leave your legs wrapped around his hips. Rocking still but slowly now. He removes the shroud and you blink against the sudden light. As he surrounds your torso with his arms he tenderly kisses each of your eyes then your nose and finally your mouth. You discover your partner is crying. He too has journeyed to this special place, found beyond any earthly ties, and its shared memory will burn forever. As you see the grandeur in his face you also notice the two of you are alone. As you whisper, “Thanks”, you wonder if your hour is up yet and smile.

End of Story