Teresa strolled up to Angelo in her thigh-high, blood-red leather boots, tapping the riding crop across her open left palm. “Comfortable?” she asked, stopping in front of the naked man and flicking the flexible tip of the crop against the underside of his cock.
Angelo jerked against his restraints, his big, hairy body bathed in sweat. He was secured to the huge padded black X against the bedroom wall by metal cuffs clamped over his wrists and ankles, his arms upraised along the upper half of the X, legs spread out along the lower half.
He’d spotted Teresa sipping cappuccino at an outdoor café, the woman looking sleek and sexy in a knee-length white cotton skirt and sleeveless blue satin blouse, her smooth, suntanned limbs on display, long, brown hair shining in waves. He’d made his move, a guy used to getting his way with women – his flashy clothes and confident manner and rugged good looks stamping him as a player. And he’d gotten his way with Teresa, initially.
The tall, slender brunette had led him on to her home, into her bedroom.
But then the tables had turned so quickly Angelo still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Teresa had started unbuttoning her blouse, and so he’d stripped off his designer T-shirt and jeans in an instant, always quick to pick up on a lady, paying little attention to that big black X bolted to the wall.
She’d pushed him up against the X, locked down his arms and legs before he could fully react, before he could even get in a kiss. He’d struggled then, but even his impressive strength was no match for the sturdy metal restraints.
Then he’d stopped struggling and stared, his cock rising upward and outward, as Teresa had slipped into something more uncomfortable – an ultra-short black latex skirt and red-piped, black latex crop top, the crimson leather boots. The dungeonwear gleamed under the muted lights, squeaking and creaking and crunching, as Teresa walked forward and toyed with Angelo’s pulsating cock with her riding crop.
“Hey . . . I-I was just looking for a good time, you know,” he stammered, brown eyes gone wide, big body trembling.
“And I was looking for just the opposite,” Teresa breathed back in his face. “I guess you’ll have to compromise, won’t you?” She smacked Angelo’s cock with the horse whip.
“Jesus!” he yelped, body and cock jumping.
He licked his lips, and swallowed, staring at Teresa’s large breasts pushed together in the second-skin latex top, her long, tanned legs cascading down out of the super-short, butt-hugging skirt. And despite the fear he felt at the strange and twisted turn of events, he just couldn’t get his erection to go down.
Teresa’s sultry hazel eyes shone with the knowledge. “You’ll get off when I let you get off, Angelo. I’m in control now.” She flicked his brilliant pink nipples through the dark-matted hair on his chest, making the bull of a man quiver on the end of her crop, his cock leap higher.
A key rattled in the door down the hall.
Angelo stiffened all over. Teresa swatted his cock one way, then the other. The door opened, closed.
“Who . . . who’s that!?” Angelo rasped.
“Just my husband,” Teresa replied. “Home late from work, as usual.”
Another layer of sweat sprouted up on Angelo’s naked body. He pleaded, his voice cracking, “Look, you gotta let me go! I didn’t know you were married!”
Teresa thumbed the two diamond rings on the third finger of her left hand, riding the crop up and down Angelo’s heaving stomach and chest, as the footsteps sounded in the hallway, coming closer. “There’s no way out now, lover boy.”
The bedroom door pushed all the way open. “Teresa, I’m—”
The tall, lanky blond-haired man stared at his wife in her erotic leather and latex, at the squirming, sweating man manacled to the X.
“You’re late, Lane. Again,” Teresa said. “I got tired of waiting for you this time.”
Lane dropped his tan leather briefcase down on the carpet, his lean body gone rigid, handsome face hard. “OK, I know maybe I’ve been neglecting you lately, but that’s no reason to—”
“Take off your clothes, Lane,” Teresa interrupted. “Now!” She smacked the riding crop down on her palm, her breasts jumping and eyes flashing.
Lane undressed, obediently stripping off his suit jacket and tie, his shirt and pants, shoes and socks. The late hours he’d been putting in at the office, away from his wife, the games he and Teresa had once played in the bedroom, had come back to bite him. Teresa was high-maintenance, used to getting attention. “Please, honey, can’t we just—”
“Lie down on the bed. You’re going to watch me and Angelo.”
Lane knew better than to argue. He lay down on his back on the bed, naked, and Teresa quickly tied his wrists and ankles to the brass posts at both ends of the bed, using a pair of sheer black silk stockings and a pair of blue nylon stockings.
And, despite his misgivings, Lane’s cock swelled up long and hard against his flat, tanned stomach. The tangy scent of Teresa’s perfume, the smell and sound of her sexy clothing, the heat from her lovely body so close was too much for the man’s cock to resist. He was as weak as Angelo, bound just as tight.
Teresa looked down at her husband, at his stretched-out erection. “Now you’re paying some attention to me, aren’t you, darling?” She grasped his cock, lifted it, wound a red silk stocking around and around the base of the turgid tool.
Lane groaned, his arms and legs jerking against his restraints.
Teresa wrapped the stocking around Lane’s balls, knotted the package together. The man’s cock towered upward, trussed high. Teresa stroked her husband’s bound prick with her bare hand, making him writhe on the bed. Then she picked up the riding crop and strolled over to Angelo again, making Lane glare from the bed, his cock flared obscenely erect.
Teresa played the crop tip along the veiny shaft of Angelo’s twitching prick, around the bloated crown. Both men grunted and strained. She lifted Angelo’s cock up with the crop and reached out to grip it with her other hand. The bed rattled, the X shook. Her fingers encircled the stranger’s throbbing member. But didn’t close.
“I trust you’ve learned your lesson, Lane,” Teresa purred. “About ignoring your wife and her needs.” She pulled her hand back and turned around to face her husband.
“I haven’t learned anything!” he growled. “Not yet!”
“Oh, yes, I think you’ve—”
“Bitch! Fuck him! Stick his cock in your cunt and fuck him! While I watch!” Lane’s blue eyes blazed at his wife, his hips thrusting upward, his swollen purple cock spiking higher.
Teresa’s lips trembled, as she stared into her husband’s eyes. She’d only meant to teach him a lesson, her way, but this was becoming a lesson for both of them, a dangerous and exciting one. She inadvertently backed up into Angelo, and the man groaned as his hard-on speared in between her lithe legs.
With her eyes fixed on her defiantly glaring husband, Teresa bent forward, reached back and grasped the hem of her latex slash-skirt then pulled the slippery black garment up over her butt cheeks. Her bare buttocks shuddered out into the open, right in front of Angelo, taut and curved and golden-brown as the rest of her. The man swallowed, hard, his cock yearning to split the peachy pair.
“You’re sure—” Teresa began.
“Do it!” Lane yelled. “Stick his hard cock in your juicy cunt and fuck yourself on it!”
Teresa hesitated only a moment longer. Then she reached further back and gripped Angelo’s vibrating erection. He groaned and quivered. She steered his mushroomed cap into her soft, slickened folds and plowed his shaft into her velvety tunnel.
They both moaned, Teresa pushing all the way back against Angelo, her buttocks splashing up against his body, his cock plunging balls-deep into her pussy. Lane smiled fiercely at his wife, shaking the bed but not budging loose from his sensuous ties, his cock pulsing as hard as the other man’s inside his wife.
Teresa rotated her bum around Angelo’s groin, rutting on his cock. She unzipped her top and let her breasts spill out, large and heavy, tan nipples jutting. She placed her hands on her thighs, just above her slut boots, and began rocking back and forth, bouncing her cheeks against Angelo, fucking herself on his prong.
“Oh, God, Lane!” she moaned. “It feels so good! Another man fucking me!”
“I see it! You deserve it!” he rasped.
Teresa moved faster, splatting her butt onto Angelo, sucking on his dong with her pussy. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, then popped his eyes open again, so he could watch Teresa’s mounded bottom smack up against him. He fought one last time against the metal cuffs – futilely again – and then thrust his hips out as best he could, matching the woman’s rhythm, pumping her gripping pussy with his cock.
Lane clenched his fists and pumped his hips as well, splitting the air with his prick, keeping pace with his wife and the man fucking her. His cock pulsated despite its constraints, as he watched Teresa bite her lip and dig her fingernails into her thighs, rocking, getting rocked, faster and faster. The crack of Teresa’s buttocks against Angelo’s body, the sluicing of his cock in her pussy filled the sex-funked air of the bedroom.
“Fuck!” Angelo suddenly blurted. “I’m gonna come!” He thrust in a frenzy, his ass slapping back against the padded center of the X.
Teresa stared desperately at her husband, as she bounced to and fro, orgasm brimming up in her pistoned pussy. Lane grinned at her, savagely.
“No!” she cried. “Only my husband can come inside me!”
She jumped forward, off Angelo’s wildly shunting prick. The man bellowed and jerked and spurted come, too far gone to control himself. He twisted and moaned like a wild animal, semen shooting out of the tip of his spasming cock, burst after burst.
Teresa and Lane watched, until Angelo’s dick jumped with a last blast of heated sperm, and then hung empty.
“You see what I can make men do?” Teresa commented, strolling over to her husband tied up on the bed.
“I should never have left you alone.”
Teresa picked up the riding crop and smacked Lane’s swollen cockhead with it. “Better, much better.”
Lane shivered and groaned.
Teresa peeled her top right off and flung it aside. The skirt was next, leaving her with just the big, shiny boots, as she climbed up onto the bed and stood in between her husband’s legs. She looked down at the man’s wound-up cock, a soft smile spreading over her glossy red lips.
Teresa ran the riding crop over one of her breasts then the other, outlining the full, fleshy swells. Then she twirled the flexible leather around one of her outstretched nipples, then the other rubbery protuberance. Her legs trembled. Lane stared up at her, his mouth open, his cock straining for her wet pussy.
“You want me to ride you, don’t you, darling?”
He nodded, urgently.
“Maybe I like riding myself, instead.” She slid the crop down in between her heavy breasts and over her flat stomach, into the damp brown fur of her sex. She gasped, almost going off, as the leather tip slid over her clit and onto her lips. Precome filled the slit of Lane’s cock, flowed pearl white down his shaft.
Teresa didn’t waste any more time. She squatted down over the top of Lane’s cock, her leather boots squeaking. Her dripping pussy was poised just above her husband’s raging manhood. Then she abruptly sat all the way down, plunging her pussy down over Lane’s cock, swallowing him up whole in her tunnel.
“Oh, God!” she cried.
“Yes!” he shouted.
She bounced up and down, riding her husband’s cock, riding him. She slapped at his smooth-shaven chest with the crop, leaving red marks as she lashed harder and faster. He thrust up into her, desperately pumping her pussy.
Her breasts shuddered and her buttocks rippled with the erotic impacts, her long hair flying. She whipped at her husband, spurring him madly on. Their flesh smacked together, the bed creaking, perspiration drenching both rider and mount, their moans of pleasure sounding above all else.
“God, Lane, I’m coming!” Teresa screamed. She threw the whip away and grabbed up her bounding tits, pulled on her pointing nipples, just as a huge, heated wave of orgasm welled up from her cock-churned pussy and crashed through her body. Followed by another, and another.
Lane shouted, “I can’t come! Let me come!”
Teresa’s eyes snapped open. She tore at the knot on the stocking binding her husband’s balls and cock, even as multiple orgasms rolled through her. She pulled the stocking free, and her bliss surged to new heights, as she felt Lane’s hot spurts of ecstasy sear her tunnel.
He geysered orgasm over and over, flinging himself upward into his wife’s gushing pussy, as far as her binding stockings would allow. They matched each other joyous jolt for jolt.
Finally, Teresa collapsed down on top of Lane. She hugged him tight and rested her head on his chest, his cock still buried in her pussy.
“I’ll have to neglect you more often,” Lane commented.
“Just you try,” she replied, laughing and kissing the man on the lips.
They were both startled by the sound of Angelo clearing his throat.