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From: Mick <benedicta@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: STORY:Some Firsts for Me - Complete (F/m, m/f, wife, bond,
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Moderator: Please consider reposting this. Celeste says she never saw it
posted (I saw it, though!) and I really would like her (and others) to see
it and give feedback, pro or con. These experiences were important to me,
and although the stories are embellished some, I'd like whatever feedback I
can get in order to bring the experiences more "to life." Thanks for
considering them, and thanks for all your work.
Mick


STORY:  Some Firsts for Me: She wanted it HER WAY [Complete] (F/m, m/f,
wife, bond, "forced" bi mm, oral, etc.)

You may repost, print, or copy, provided you do not remove the header, and
do not alter in any way - in whole or in part - without the author's
permission, which is unlikely to be granted in any case. It may not be
reproduced for profit or commercial use.

If you are not 18 or over, well - I encourage your curiosity, but please
pursue it elsewhere...this story (like this newsgroup) is for adults only.
Thanks.

A memoir/story - a reminiscence. I suppose it fits into the "wife watching"
category in a way - though I would never have thought of that until just
now. It's mostly just a remembrance...And it is my first post. 

Comments or questions are welcome....I can spot a flame a mile away, and I
don't read them before I trash them, so don't bother. Constructive
criticism is always welcome. (Take me, use me, lick me, eat me, fuck me,
whip me.....EDIT MEEEEE!!)

Part I

I was barely 18....at least I *think* my birthday had passed. I was young,
and though I'd
gotten laid the first time when I was 14, I was just then really coming
into my own
sexually. I had more than one really important relationship going, all of
them with more
or less understanding women...all but one older than me. And I suppose my
hormone-driven ego was cranking right along. Pretty full of myself.

But SHE had me by the balls, plain and simple. She had worked for a while
at the
bookstore where I did. Early thirties, slender, graceful, with the
exaggerated posture and
poise of a dancer, although she wasn't one. She just moved well and carried
herself with
pride. Dark, especially her hair and eyes, but all of her. Her ancestry was
Russian and
French. She had a soft, deep sense of humor; she seemed to have read
everything.
She was surprisingly raunchy, but in a sort of quiet way - a way that was
actually a form
of flirting. She would make a sexual pun or double-entendre and just check
with a subtle
glance to see if you got it...and smile with pleasure to see that you had.
She would treat
you as a co-conspirator in her naughtiness. She would especially do this
when she had
been slyly teasing one of the many customers or loiterers she attracted to
our end of the
store....she toyed with them, driving them, and me, completely nuts. "Here
comes one of
my regulars," she'd murmur as one of the earnest young intellectuals made
his way up
the aisle, trying to look uninterested, preoccupied. "Wonder what's on his
highly
educated little mind today?"

We had only worked together for a brief while when she began to casually
place a hand
on my leg or arm or shoulder. She would sometimes seem "little-girlish"
with me, but
only subtly. I doubt that anyone else who worked there could see that she
was coming
on to me. In fact, they would have thought I was flattering myself if I had
said anything. I
mean, she was nearly twice my age, gorgeous in sophisticated in a
near-bohemian way,
and I was this bearded young buck. But I knew. Or suspected. Hell, I didn't
know what to
think. I was becoming obsessed as only a brand new man can be. She was just
too
delicious. Was I kidding myself? No. Absolutely not. Maybe. Definitely. Oh,
for Christ's
sake...

Soon there were lunches. My invitation. She said no the first time I asked
her if she'd
like to join me for lunch, but it was a very studied "no." She paused a
long time, looking
into my eyes before saying, "no, I don't think so...." and let her voice
trail off as a slight
smile crossed her face. She *enjoyed* saying no to me! Put her hand on my
goddamn
THIGH when she said no to me. 

But somehow, as nonchalantly as I could, but terrified I'd come across like
one of her
ass hole suitors, I managed to ask her again, and she agreed. We started
having lunch
together nearly every day. And then I told her I was going to a movie after
work, and she
asked with whom, and I said no one, just love this guy's films...we have
some of the
screenplays back in Film and Theater.... We talked for a long while about
his film,
looked over some of the screenplays together, talked about the ones we'd both
seen...then she just invited herself along.

She let me listen to her calling her husband to tell him she'd would be
home late, that
she and "a friend" were going to a movie. She glanced at me and smiled
slightly as she
said "friend." Agony. "No, darling, you stay home.....well, if it's good I
won't mind seeing
again with you sometime....right. And we'll probably stop somewhere for a bite
afterwards.....love you too."

It was the beginning of a long seduction. I wanted it to be a seduction of
her by me, but 
of course it wasn't. I learned a lot.

The movies after work became sort of a regular thing. I decided just to try
and set my
sexual desire for her aside, at least while I waited for some sort of flash
of insight that
would make her mine. I rationalized it in a very high-minded way: she is
married. I've got
plenty of opportunities for sex with women who don't carry that particular
baggage, and
besides, it's dishonest. Hah! It was equally dishonest to pretend that I
didn't want her.
But that's life when you're seventeen, eighteen years old.

We were great spiritual partners for one another. We had a passion for
poetry, for films,
for art, for the outdoors....it was sooo good to be together. Off and on I
would see that
we were in a sort of love. It began to be ok that we didn't sleep together.
In fact, we
started to talk about our relationships - she about her marriage, me about
my girlfriends
and the occasional one-nighter. Once she asked me if I ever went out after
being out
with her, and I honestly told her yes. Had I ever gone out and had sex
after being out
with her? Yes. She looked down at her napkin, and I thought she looked a
little flushed
under her golden skin. When she looked up, she *was* flushed, and her eyes
had a
twinkle...tears? She smiled tenderly, and said simply "Good. I like that."
She paused
again. "Sometimes after we go out, I go home and I....I have to um...."

The waiter came and broke the spell. I didn't know what to make of it all:
wasn't as
bright as everyone thought I was! Some say that I'm still as oblivious
about sexual
matters now as I was then.....or that I'm better at seeing other people's
stuff than my
own.

Three times, I think it was, her husband joined us for lunch. First time,
he was sort of
short with me. I was, at least, smart enough to be flattered. I was a
threat to a 35 year-old
husband! But her willingness to let him join us was unnerving. Was I that
benign? Was I
so young, such a sexual irrelevancy that it was "safe" to hang out with me
and her
husband together. It was gratifying that HE didn't think so.

But the second time, I realized I really sort of liked the guy. He was
funny. He was
smart. He looked cool. He seemed to really lover her. He treated her really
well. Better
than I did, actually. I was always teasing her about things, being sort of
sarcastic ... he
was soft and kind with her, and she soaked it up. I had to admit that I
liked him, and I
liked them together. I was more tortured than ever. Because however I
idealized him
and their marriage, however I tried to "platonize" our relationship, there
were her dark,
deep, naughty eyes, her slender fingers, her full, smiling lips, the crease
in her brow
when she frowned (which she did a lot)....her absolutely sculptural collar
bones, her soft,
jet hair, her breasts, not large, just perfect and full, ripe....her round
hips as she walked
away on her long legs, arm-in-arm with her husband, turning on a perfect
ankle to
surreptitiously smile over her shoulder at me....I believed it was some
sort of love that I
saw in her smile.

She invited me to her place for dinner. When the night came, we went
straight from
work, I on my motorcycle, she in her car. It was a great place...they'd
remodeled an urban
townhouse before it was popular to do so....a carpenter friend had helped
them with the
design, and shown them how to do much of the work themselves. And it was
beautiful,
full of pottery and soft lighting and art. They were affluent - that had
been obvious from
the casual but expensive clothes she wore, and the occasional piece of
jewelry. She
worked because she liked to, and it gave her an escape from her doctoral
work and her
teaching fellowship. She lit candles, brought drinks over to the couch
where I sat, and
settled in next to me...we chatted a bit about the day at work and
eventually I asked
when Tim would be home. "He's out of town on business...."

I nearly dropped my drink. She adjusted herself on the couch, letting her
shoes drop to
the floor, tucking her long legs up under her as she looked at me over the
rim of her
glass..."Are you disappointed?" 

No, of course not it's fine with me....it was too good to be true, but I
was so flustered, I
couldn't help trying to be cool.....I started trying to chat about where he
was. The
conversation just stalled and sat there, until she said "Let's talk about
him after dinner."

She slowly slipped her feet back into her shoes - fairly serious fuckme
pumps - and
liquidly made her way to the kitchen. After a few moments I followed. We
nearly collided
in the passage between the dining room and the kitchen, and she had just
reached for
the light switch. The kitchen light went out, and we were face to face in
the candlelight. I
realized, oddly, that even with her heels on, I had a good two inches on
her. I wiped the
thought from my mind as she simply rose up and put her soft lips to mine.
That's all that
was touching: our lips. Her breasts where painfully close to my chest. Her
hand on the
wall switch was near my face....her smell - God, her smell! - was all
around me, climbing
down into me. 

Her tongue touched mine, and for a moment, I thought I would grab her and
take her
right there on the floor. In truth, I was too flustered, too excited to
know what to do.  I was trembling, and so was she. We broke our kiss after
a long while, and looked at each other....she was smiling, her eyes
sparkling, and shaking her head from side to side as if in wonder. I smiled
too, and soon we were holding each other and laughing.

We recovered and shared another kiss. Hot, wet and hungry. When we came up
for air,
I said something suave like "so now, what?" and she said "I'm not sure. I
don't know where this all going, but whatever comes next, I don't want to
do it on an empty stomach!"

We ate in near silence....it was some sort of pasta I'd never had.  After
dinner, we
returned to the couch. "Mick, do you want to stay with me tonight?" "You
know I do." A long pause. "Are you sure?" "Sure I'm sure." I leaned in and
kissed her deeply, and wonder of wonders! I touched her breast through her
light blouse...she gasped softly into my mouth, and pressed her lips
tighter to mine, her tongue probing past mine as her hand on the back of my
head pulled me closer.

"I want us to do something different tonight....something really
special...I promise you'll
like it....and it's something I really, really, want. I mean for us. I want
to share something
special with you. Just trust me tonight..." She murmured these words softly
into my neck
and my ear and we returned to our kissing. 

She silently rose and led me to her bedroom...*their* bedroom, I dimly
thought. She
gently pushed my hands away when I reached for her, and with a deliberately
wicked
smile, she began to draw my shirt up over my chest, kissing up to my
nipples as she
went. I pulled the shirt the rest of the way up and off, and she began to
massage my stiff
cock through my jeans as she licked and sniffed and sucked at my chest and my
armpits. I tried to put my arms around her, but she firmly brought my hands
down to my
own hips as she worked at my button fly and belt. My cock sprung forth as
she lowered
my briefs and she let it brush her cheek as she went down sliding my jeans and
underwear down to my ankles. I stepped out of them as she knelt there
helping, her
breath on my thighs.

She tried to rise, but my hands on her head were firm - or did they plead?
She gave in,
and settled on her knees, looking up at me....so serious now, my laughing
lady. So
serious and so inquiring as she sought my eyes....she stroked me and
searched my face
from down there, then she examined my cock and balls, all the while
stroking and
holding....then she looked back up into my eyes as she opened brought her
soft, full lips
to the wet tip of my cock. Her tongue flicked out, but her eyes remained on
mine...she
drew my clear fluid into her mouth and seemed to swallow before pressing my
cock to
her lips, dragging it over their softness, harvesting more pre-cum with her
tongue. Still
staring into my eyes with that inquisitive look, she used my cockhead to
press her lips
open, and took the head into her hot mouth, her tongue softly stroking the
underside of
it.

With a groan, she finally broke eye contact and took several inches of me
into her
mouth holding onto my thighs as I gently held her head. She sucked and
pumped at me
for what seemed several minutes...could she feel how my knees were
shaking?....and
then she pulled away from my penis, breathing heavily, holding my length
against her
cheek, kissing into my pubic hair, and drawing my balls forward in her hand
to kiss as
her other hand held my cock......

"It'll be so good.....so good....," she murmured as she nuzzled me. I had
to force myself to listen, to concentrate on her words. She was telling me
something. "You just have to trust me, just trust me to make it good..."
Her voice was muffled against my scrotum, and the soft vibration of her
voice, her breath, her elegant hand still stroking my length....I had to
strain to understand what she was saying. Why was she saying this? "Just
tell me you'll trust me...do you S______? Do you trust me to make it good
for you? For us?"

I looked down and saw that her face was turned up to mine. She was nearly
childlike, her eyes had the darkness and the openness of a child who wants
so to be taken up and loved. I didn't know what it was that scared and
thrilled me in her just then, but now I do: it was a need that, had I known
how deep it went, would have been more than my half-man soul could have
faced. But I was a vain boy - everyone had always thought I was older than
I was, especially me.

"Trust me, S_____.....you have to trust me and it'll be good....mmmm.....so
good...." There was no seduction in her voice, just longing, so sincere it
could break a heart, break it open.

I drew her up as a man would, by her upper arms. I had felt my strength
with girls, but now I was feeling my power with a woman. I drew her up to
me, and kissed her soft lips, warm, slick and puffy from their tender work
on my cock. She yielded so sweetly....became almost small as I held her
arms in my hands and her head tilted back to take my tongue into her throat.

On the bed, her yielding was gone. We were partners, playing in the waves,
nearly knocked silly by what was washing over us. Pulling each other back,
sliding over each other as clothes fell away and our breath surged. I wish
I could tell you what she wore...usually I'm eager to savor peeling away
layers of mystery and clothing, but I truly don't know. Maybe she undressed
herself as I lost myself in her spicy smells and her strange textures. I
know she spoke, but I was past listening. Her voice was just wind,
birdsong, heartbeat. And my mind was veering toward the fuck, the splendid
fuck. In my mind I was deep in her already, her cunt, so hot and wet, was
already mine. I was in her mouth and cunt and ass between her tits and in
her hair all at once, and at once was just when I wanted her I wanted her
at once, all at once....I would tell you what I "did to her" and what she
"did to me," in the ancient tradition of these tales, but god help me I
just don't know, and can't make it up. It was wet and it smelled of nearly
everything given to us-the-undeserving, and I was alive...the earth was
ours and it was all over us.

Whew. I'm back now.

Sorry. The thing is this: all of a sudden, everything stopped except the
tripping of my heart and the throbbing of my cock. The groaning and
squealing and growling had stopped. She was suddenly straddling me
forcefully, and leaning over me, holding my face, staring into my eyes, a
smile of disbelief on her glowing face. She was seated on my belly, my ribs
clenched between her thighs, my face held in her hands, my eyes held fast
in hers.

And she said it again...her breath ragged and her voice shaking: " Will you
trust me? You do, don't you? You know how I love you, don't you?" (She said
"how I love you," not "how *much* I love you" - "*how* I love you" - for
some reason that stuck in my mind.)

I could only nod yes. I don't know if I really trusted her. I think "yes"
and "no" were maybe the only answers I knew back then. "Yes, I do, I trust
you," I nodded silently as my chest heaved and my wet cock touched her ass
just above the crack...the spot I now felt with my fingers and found downy,
soft. God, yes, sure, I trust you, just let me fuck you and fuck you and
fuck you.

She produced a loop of cloth - it was a necktie - classic, no? Its ends
were knotted together to form a loop. She gave it a twist and put the
smaller loop she'd formed over my wrist. Hah. She'd done this before....

"See.....it comes right off....all you do is a little twist, and you're
free. See?" She hooked the other end over some feature of the headboard,
and did likewise with the other wrist, al the while working her amazing ass
over my lower belly, her ass crack and pubic hair pressing the length of
me, rolling my cock against my own hard belly.

And so I was tied. Sort of. It was true that with a twist of my wrist I'd
be free. Was it bondage? Hardly. I gripped the cloth in my hands and held
on tight...good God! Her wetness was drying on my fingers.

She slid down and my feet were in her hands, her back to me, her ass still
in touch with my cock. And my feet were tied.

She wiggled backward up my body, and her ass and sopping cunt were there,
there to lick...and I strained up into her and heard her gasp as her lips
opened to my tongue...I tongued her open like lifting an oyster to swallow,
and she settled onto me as her hot mouth took my cock. Took it for hers,
her head bobbing but in circles, like a child who wants to get dizzy, but
slower. It was a sweet, slightly savage sucking, and I felt teeth and rough
tongue, and slippery lips and clutching throat.

And then she was rearing up....my cock was rocking in the air....she was
over me, her hands on my belly, her ass and puss pressed to my face as I
ate there and ate there like some crazy- assed squirrel with the last and
biggest nut.

And beyond the sound of my own feasting I heard her say "Isn't he
beautiful...isn't he just too beautiful? Oh god, he's so good...I told you
he'd be like this...."

At first I thought she was talking to my cock! I nearly laughed as I
hungrily lapped at her. In fact, the sheer craziness of it filled me with
happiness...my crazy lover...talking about me to my cock!

But that was just for the briefest of moments....I continued to probe
deeper into her sweet core with my tongue, and she never ceased the subtle
undulation of her hips over my face. I heard her again: "Come on,
baby....do it for me....I want to see you suck him for me, do it,
baby...Pleease, Timmy....for me...."

It was her husband. For a moment, I considered giving my wrists the simple
twist it would have taken to be free. I could be out of her in less than a
minute, and on my way back to the world.

But I heard her again: "Look at it, Timmy...look how big and hard and
smooth...."
And I felt her again: she made a sort of circle with her fingertips - like
Stonehenge or something - and she firmly massaged her fingertips into the
flesh at the base of my penis, deeply probing there drawing the flesh up
toward the base of my penis, stroking deeply into the part of my cock that
is hidden inside of me, the inner cock...drawing it up toward the outer
cock. (If you doubt that there is an inner cock, check it out. The human
penis, when erect, often extends far back into the body.) She milked at it
steadily as she crooned to her husband. I felt her take me into her mouth.
OR WAS IT HIM!? No, she drew my cock out of her mouth and continued coaxing
him: "I know you want this. I know you want to suck him. And I want it. I
want him to feel my husband's mouth on his cock. I want you to taste my
lover's sperm. Come to me, baby. Come suck him with me."

And suddenly my cock was surrounded with warmth and wetness. A hot mouth
made wet contact with the underside of my cock as another slid over the top
of it. Then it was as if they were trying to kiss each other around my
cock, and their tongues chased each other around the shaft like kids
playing around the trunk of a playground tree...

I could feel her gentle laughter as they both knelt - him between my
thighs, and her over my face - and made love to each other and me. I wanted
more than anything to free my hands, not to flee, but to hold on to her
hips above me, to hug her wet, sloppy cunt to my face. But I did not twist
free. It would have been easy, but I remained tied and imagined myself
helpless, a passive recipient of this impossible pleasure.

And then I felt her shift her weight a bit, and grasp my cock in her hand.
I could hear more clearly now. She stroked me rhythmically as she urged him
on. "Take him in, Timmy...take him deep. Let him fuck your mouth, honey.
Come on, for me. For him. Take that beautiful hard cock and suck him." I'm
pretty sure that as she held the base of my cock in one hand, she pushed
his head down over me with her other hand, because ... well, it just felt
like that. I never once looked down there. Never saw him. But she pushed
his face down onto my cock and milked at me with her free hand as she
guided me into his mouth and him onto my cock.

And I am pretty sure she was pushing him up and down on me, because the
rhythm with which he slid up and down on me was *her* rhythm, the rhythm of
her hips, of her tongue, of our lovemaking, of our fucking...it had begun
with that first kiss, and had continued uninterrupted, faster or slower, it
was *her* rhythm. I pictured then, as I picture now, her gaze as she forced
her husband to suck her lover, as she watched his lips stretch and slide
over my cock, as she watched his nostrils flare for breath, as she watched
his throat contract when she pushed him down hard, and he gagged a bit as
his lips neared her fingers where she held me. She held a fistful of cock
and was forcing it down her husbands throat, a little roughly, but it was
still full of love - not so much of him or of me, *but of what were doing*
- love of what she was experiencing.

But soon, the rhythm was established and she fondled my balls for a moment,
cooing something to him as he continued to fellate me, I could tell she was
whispering into his ear.

Suddenly, wrenchingly, the sweet darkness that had surrounded me, hidden
me, as vulnerable as I was, suddenly it was gone as she reversed herself
over me, and fell to kissing my lips, my neck, my ears, all the while
babbling "thank you, S________, thank you, oh god, it's so beautiful...tell
me it's ok...tell me it's good, tell me, baby..."

I said nothing, but I kissed her as deeply as I could without freeing
myself and grabbing her, and I slid my cunt-slick tongue into her hungry
mouth as her husband continued to labor his mouth over my flesh.

He was into it now. He held me in both hands, I guess to limit the depth
when I bucked up into his mouth - which was increasingly often, as my heat
built. I could feel his tongue working wildly at the top of my cock when he
would rise up, and I would feel his tight throat when he came down on me.

Her puss was wetly pressed against my belly again as she held my face in
her hands and feverishly sucked at my tongue.

In moments I was beginning to come, and she must have felt me beginning to
heave under her. For a moment, her excitement just put her over the
edge...she pulled away from our kiss, and ecstatic expression on her face
as she momentarily rose up and could not decide what to do, where to be.
She frantically looked from my face to my cock, and back again....then she
turned and her puss came down to my ravenous mouth again, and she was there
with him, helping him, and when he realized that my crisis was immanent, he
pulled away, but she FORCED him back. He closed his mouth and it hurt
slightly as she pushed his clamped lips against my sensitive cockhead; but
finally he relented and his mouth swooped down over me once again, and I
began to come. 

My first spurt must have filled his mouth, because I could feel a huge
amount of wetness fall down the shaft onto their hands. The next one, I
felt arcing up onto my belly and chest, and she squealed her breathless
delight. The next splashed into her throat as she again engulfed me
herself. And then she pulled his face to me again and then they were both
licking me, and she put me in his mouth as I shrank...he suckled there like
a child and she stroked his face and my cock...and then he was gone.

She crawled up and kissed me softly with her spermy-sweet lips and tongue.
She melted onto me now, serene and languid, small movements against me
carried forth that rhythm, slower now, and slower still. Her face on my
neck and her sigh was from deep inside.

I believe we slept.

I awoke a little while later with her untying my "bonds." She whispered
more thanks, and kissed each wrist...she left my ankles tied. With a twitch
of my cock, I realized there would be more.

"I won't ask you if it was good. You don't have to share that with me. But
it was so good for me, S_____ - so, so good. I came so much, and so hard.
God, it was good."

I said nothing, which was becoming a habit. She began to stroke me
everywhere, as my arms regained their strength and my hands found her hair,
her cheek, her throat, her breasts, and then I was sitting up, pulling her
down onto me, and we were fucking and fucking. I was deep in her, and she
just settled down onto me, as we sat facing each other, our arms and legs
around each other. My fingers found her ass, and wet with her puss, they
easily worked into her and she began to come, one of those long, deep,
from- the-core orgasms, the one that surprises or even scares you a little.
She didn't work up and down on me, and I did not stroke in and out of her.
I stayed in her as deep as I could be and for a long, long while, we stayed
that way, just slowly grinding ourselves together and she came and came. I
think she wept as I played one last wet song deep into her cunt and we
slept again.

Comments welcome: benedicta@anon.nymserver.com


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