Wednesday, July 27, 2011
I tried to open my eyes, and realized that I couldn’t; I was blindfolded. I tried to remove the blindfold, but discovered that my hands were cuffed together in a way that kept them above my head. Oh my god, how did I get like this?!
I was at a party... I was having fun and dancing with my friends... but I wasn’t drinking anything that could lead to this predicament. I have no idea how things went from that to this!
Oh, this must be a joke. I get it, my husband must have had one of my friends slip something in my drink so that he could do a little role-play. I decided to give him a piece of my mind, but there was a ball in my mouth.
The ball was too big to swallow or push out, but not so big that it was uncomfortable. I could close my mouth, and even chew on the ball a bit. It also seemed to help keep my mouth moist.
I decided to try tugging on the cuffs again, hoping that I could pull my hands free, or perhaps pull the cuffs away from whatever they were looped over. I must have worked on them for at least ten minutes, but they were as solid as ever. I sighed.
My legs were free, but with my hands so securely bound, there was no point in trying to do anything with my legs. I was utterly at the mercy of whoever had bound me. At this point, I was still fairly sure that it was my husband trying to be kinky.
I felt someone crawl onto the bed. Whoever it was didn’t bother to try to reassure me, or talk to me at all. This rather confirmed my suspicion that it was my husband. He didn’t want to talk to me and give himself away.
He settled himself on me, sitting on my lap. There wasn’t much I could do to stop him, so I patiently waited for him to finish his joke so that I could bitch him out for doing this to me. I did not find this funny in the slightest.
I heard a light sound, and then felt my breasts being massaged. I realized that the sound I’d heard was oil being warmed in his hands before being spread on me. His hands were almost hot and gentle as they kneaded the muscles of my chest.
Well... If my husband really wanted to give me a nice massage before ending his little joke on me, who was I to argue? I tried my hardest not to respond to him – I didn’t want to encourage him after all, but soon I was moaning, and trying to push into his hands. He had massaged my breast thoroughly, and I was feeling a bit better about this role-playing joke of his.
He pinched my nipples a few times, and then sucked on them. I was squirming in lustful need, and moaning encouragement. He rubbed, licked, and sucked on my breasts for so long that I swear I was almost ready to orgasm! I had no way to tell time, but I am certain close to an hour passed.
He moved a bit lower, kissing his way down my stomach, and massaging me as he went. He used oil to rub my legs and feet. He concentrated on making me feel so good! By the time he was done, I had no problem letting him spread my legs as wide as they would go.
He probed me with a finger, and I realized that I was oozing juices like crazy! The bed under me must be soaked by now, which was strange because I almost never produced much for lubrication. His finger slid in and out of me with ease, and he then used my own wetness to gently rub my clitoris.
Oh god! I really wish I could spit this ball out already because I wanted to squeal from the pleasure! He used one finger to rub my clit, and another to explore inside me.
He found a spot that I had always considered to be purely a myth, and within minutes I was screaming through the ball. I felt this intense relief, and realized that I had just squirted all over him. Seriously? I didn’t think that was possible either.
He shifted, and I knew he was about to finally have sex with me. I was officially not pissed anymore. My hubby had managed to make this experience so awesome that I would be willing to let him do it again. Of course, I didn’t plan to tell him that; there was no need to encourage his perverted side.
I felt him push into me, and realized that this could not possibly be my husband. Let’s just say that my husband – my one and only sexual partner – was about average from what I’d learned from comparing with my friends. We’d been married for so long that he fit inside me like I was made for him.
This man was much bigger. It was hard to tell without seeing, but I think he was more wide than long. He didn’t bang into my womb, but he stretched me so wide that I was certain I would tear!
Now certain that this was not my husband, I was completely torn between struggling, and enjoying this. I mean, it had been pretty enjoyable so far, but I’m sure that’s because I thought he was my husband. Now that I knew better, I was supposed to stop him.
The problem was that I didn’t know how to stop him. My hands were cuffed above my head, and my legs could do nothing with him inside me like this. Plus... well... it was a bit too late to stop enjoying things now.
He made it impossible to not enjoy this. He had my legs over his hips in a way that left him room to rub my clit with his thumb as he knelt in front of me. His rubbing made me forget why I should attempt to resist him.
My muscles clamped down on him as he rubbed me, which made him feel even bigger than before. I have no idea how I could accommodate his girth without pain, but I could. In fact, it felt incredible inside me!
His rubbing of my clit and the thrusting combined to leave me hovering on the edge of another orgasm. My back was arched, and all my muscles were tight. I felt like a bow ready to shoot an arrow, only for some reason I had to wait until forever. I’m so going to need another massage after this!
I would have been crying and gasping if this damn ball were not in my mouth. I know I had tears streaming from my blindfolded eyes... tears of frustration. I wanted to cum again so badly that I would do anything!
My muscles eventually got tired from the tension, and I had no idea what to do. The pleasure was growing unbearable. Please god, let me orgasm soon! I know that this is not the best time to be asking for sexual favors, but please do it anyway?
I felt my captor lean over just slightly and suddenly his free hand was on my throat. He applied enough pressure to stop me from breathing without hurting me. I didn’t know whether to panic or be relieved over my possible death. On the one hand, I wouldn’t have to endure this exquisite pleasure anymore, but on the other hand... I’d be dead, and my husband might never know what happened to me.
I felt strange, and considering that I had felt strange ever since I woke up, that was saying something. It was almost like there was a drug racing through my veins. There was a tingling fire completely different from what I had experienced before.
I thought that the darkness was going to consume me, but then the fire burned even hotter for a moment, and suddenly I was shaking. He held his hand against my throat for a moment more, and then removed it. It was hard to gasp for air with the ball in my mouth, but that just made the orgasm all the sweeter for a few moments.
After I relaxed – honestly feeling like a bowl of jello – he must have decided that it was time for his pleasure. He drizzled a bit of oil on my clit, and the sudden cold made me tense up slightly. If I could have gasped, I would have. He spread me wide for a moment as he switched from kneeling to laying atop me.
The oil seemed form a seal between us, and I was so sensitive right now that every thrust made me shudder. With all of his weight on me like this, I couldn’t have escaped even if my hands were free, so I silently wished that he would uncuff me now. I wanted to dig my nails into his back.
He didn’t uncuff me, but he did pause for a moment to finally remove that damn ball!
I was so happy to have it out of my mouth that I almost thanked him, but he prevented me by kissing my lips. He kissed me hungrily; greedily. His thrusts were powerful; possessive, and I felt like he was claiming my entire body as his.
I started to think that he was going to have sex with me forever. He was now pounding into me in a way that made it hard for him to kiss me, and I was grunting in his ear. I didn’t want to shout out, “Yes!” but I couldn’t make myself tell him to stop either. I told myself that even if I did beg him, he’d just ignore me anyway.
Some time later, he was banging into me in a way that I thought should probably hurt, but felt wonderful. I was almost ready to climax again, and wondered how many times he planned to make me do so. I opened my mouth, and squealed.
I heard him shout triumphantly, and realized that there was now a hot wetness inside me. He was done, and I couldn’t help but feel relief mixed with disappointment. He collapsed onto me, and I think he fell asleep.
Judging by his weight, he was a bit heavier than my husband too. I couldn’t tell if he was taller or shorter though. I sighed, and drifted off to sleep. What am I going to tell my husband?
The next time I woke, the sun was shining in my eyes. I lifted my hand to block the light, and realized that I was no longer cuffed to a bed. I looked around, and discovered that I was in my car... in my driveway!
“Morning honey! Did you have fun at your girls’ weekend?”
Did I ever! “Um... Did anyone call here while I was gone?”
“No, why do you ask?” My husband wondered.
“Well, I’m sure they lost track of me at some point. I just thought that they would have called to ask if I had called you.” What do I tell him???
“Isn’t it some unspoken rule that if a girl disappears during a girls’ weekend, no one is supposed to tell her husband?”
I was speechless. This rather implied that he thought that I would hook up with some random guy. I wouldn’t have done so on purpose! I was tempted to drive off.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he laughed. “I’m only joking. So, if they lost track of you, where were you?”
Here goes. “I’m not sure how, but I was cuffed to a bed, and played with until I orgasmed, um... three times. Then he must have let me go because I woke up here.” I hope the truth doesn’t get me into too much trouble.
My husband laughed again. “Only three? You must have gotten pretty drunk. I’m glad you managed to drive home without any problems.”
He didn’t believe me! What do I do now? Do I insist I am telling the truth, or do I just drop it? “No really, I’m telling the truth!”
“Ok honey,” he replied indulgently. “Why not come inside and clean up a bit, and then call your friends to make sure they aren’t worried sick about you.”
I got out of the car, and discovered that it was a bit awkward to walk. I felt utterly stretched out, and worse! I had to pee very badly!
My hubby steadied me, and helped me to the bathroom. He waited for me on the edge of the tub, fairly certain that I would probably need him to help me to our bed when I was done. Or perhaps to the kitchen table for breakfast.
I emptied my bladder, and then wiped. There was a lot of slimy fluid down there, and I inspected it on the toilet paper. There was clear jelly, which was probably mine, yellowish cream-colored goo – probably his – and a small streak or two of blood. The blood was probably mine, after all, I had been stretched out to the point of possibly tearing.
I stared at the mess on the paper, and wondered what I should do. I only vaguely noticed my hubby counting on his fingers. He frowned.
“You’re not due to have your period again for a while,” he pointed out.
“I know, that’s not why I’m bleeding,” I mumbled, and finally tossed the paper in the toilet. I finished wiping, and grimaced at a slight pain in my wrists.
I examined them carefully, and found marks from where the cuffs had dug into me. I rubbed my wrists, and felt like crying. I honestly could not decide if I wanted to cry because it had happened, or because it would probably never happen again.
“Oh my god, honey! What happened to your wrists?!” My husband demanded. He pulled me to my feet, and I remembered to flush the toilet.
I looked down at the floor. “I don’t know how it happened, but I was cuffed to a bed, and played with for hours. I would not have chosen to do it, but... it didn’t hurt. He was... kind? Gentle?” I shook my head. I had no idea how to accurately explain it without saying that he was incredible in bed! “I don’t feel... raped.”
My husband stared at me in a way that made me think he believed me now. He tried to find something to say, but ended up just making noises for a few moments. Finally, his brain must have started working again.
“What should we do? Should we call the police?” He asked.
I gave this some serious thought. “No... I’m really not sure what they could do, and besides – as I said – I don’t feel raped.”
“Did you say no?”
“I couldn’t, there was a ball in my mouth. At first, I thought you were trying to play a joke on me.” I still couldn’t seem to look my husband in the eyes. I’m sure he thought I was ashamed or something, but really I was afraid that he’d blame me, and want to get divorced.
“Do you... Do you think he could have gotten you pregnant?” My husband asked quietly.
This made me look at him incredulously. My husband was infertile, and we had been trying to save up money for artificial insemination. He brought up a point that I would never have thought of on my own.
“It’s... possible, I guess.” As my husband had pointed out, I wasn’t due to have my period for a while.
He pulled me into his arms. “Whatever you want, babe. If you want to report this, I’ll stand behind you. If you don’t, I’ll respect your decision... If you turn out to be pregnant... I know I’ll make a good father.”
I let out a relieved cry, and hugged him tightly. “I swear I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“I know,” he soothed me. “I could tell by the look on your face.”
“I love you,” I informed him.
“I love you too,” he confirmed.
I was relieved and guilty at the same time. I was so lucky to have this man, but I felt like I didn’t deserve him. If I was such a good wife, would I really have enjoyed it that much? The thought was confusing, but I knew one thing for certain... I really needed to teach a few of those things to my husband!