Six Degrees Pt. 01

It seemed they had set up a pattern right away, as subsequent encounters were much the same. However, on one occasion, after their routine was well-established, Lorelei flopped onto the bed and spreads her legs to reveal her naked pussy. "How are you at cunnilingus?" she asked, not beating about the bush, as it were.

"Never had any complaints," Patrick replied; not mentioning that the only person he had ever eaten was Melanie, his errant wife, and, he mused, it obviously wasn't good enough to keep her from wandering. "So it goes."

"Well let's see how you compare to dear, dear Madeline – shall we?" Patrick dove right in and gave it his all, which apparently, from the intensity of her orgasms, wasn't too bad.

Later, somewhat into the second month of their affair, as Lorelei gave him the usual admonishment about not cumming in her mouth, a curious thought crossed his mind. "One of these days, I think I will cum in her mouth, just to reap the consequences!"

Nonetheless, it went on, having developed into a comfortable and active affair – with barely any effort or input from Patrick. He was basically just going along for the ride, just doing what he was told. He realized how much he liked that, too.

From time to time, Lorelei made a few extra, unscheduled dates for Patrick to finagle. She decided on restaurants, and activities – when, where, and what. She even joked about some day getting Madeline to eat her out when she is filled with Paddy's jism. Lorelei had assumed the dominant role, naturally; but Patrick was surprised at how easily he took on the submissive role in the relationship. It puzzled him, if he thought about it too much; still, it took his mind off his wife's infidelity.

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Three

Meanwhile, Lorelei's hubby Daniel was on yet another out-of-town business trip with his office boss, Martha. As an executive officer in the corporation – one of many – Daniel admired her for her work ethic and level-headedness. He was closely watching her for tips to help him succeed in his pursuit of the promotion carrot, his eye being on an eventual VP position for himself. But before he could get his corner office, he needed to put in his time as the assistant to Martha, the statuesque, African-American VP.

It had been a long day, what with the flight, and the dinner seminar immediately following their arrival, so that, now they had just checked in and were standing, with their bags, outside their adjacent rooms. Glancing over at Daniel as she opened her room door, Martha asked, "You up for a drink? 'Cause it's 'way too early to turn in."

"Sure," Daniel replied with a smile. "Just let me drop my bags."

"Meet you out here in five, then," Martha chirped, as she closed the door behind her.

Later, as they sat down and ordered drinks, Daniel though about how this had become their own little business-trip routine. He and Martha often commiserated after their day of meetings over a drink. At 43, a couple years older than him, Daniel generally thought of Martha as his mentor, or, when their conversations became more personal, his big sister. So it was, as, like a brother, he listened attentively to her complain about being tired of always having to make decisions. He had to think carefully at how they had got onto that topic. "Even at home, Paul, the hubby, usually defers to me." They sat for a moment in companionable silence, each taking a sip. Daniel noted, to himself, that this theme had come up before in their bitch-sessions. In fact, more than once. "Once in a while," Martha complained, "I'd like to just be told what to do instead of asked – for a change!"

Then the subject wandered until, somehow, they were vaguely talking about fantasies – tentatively alluding to sexual fantasies. The innuendo distracted Daniel, for the moment, from his corporate goals. Ordering another drink, their conversation slowly, comfortably, became increasingly lurid. Still, their friendship had always been, by all appearances, Platonic, and the discussion proceeded objectively – sex, in theory. Both of them, subconsciously, welcomed the distraction from the grind of commerce.

Soon they were enjoying a spontaneous competition of trying to one-up one another with sexual innuendo and double-entendres. But they both started to realize that the harmlessly naughty comments amounted to a sort of low level flirting – something entirely new in their ongoing relationship. And, for Daniel, it brought to mind a recollection of, how on their last trip, he surreptitiously admired her, and had thought about what he would do if she had invited him into her room. Now, here, in San Francisco, after finishing their drinks, Daniel looked at Martha and asked, "So, what would you like to do now?"

"Not have to make any more decisions tonight," she replied, heaving a meaningful sigh.

Daniel didn't hesitate. An inherent understanding of her sub-text blossomed – or flared – in his mind. He picked up the ball and ran. "Come on, then," he summoned, taking her by the arm. "We'll first go up and change out of our work clothes," and he guided her commandingly toward the elevator. "Then..., we'll see?"

In Martha's room, Daniel had her show him what clothing she'd brought. He looked through her outfits and chose a smart business skirt, white shirt-blouse, and a set of lacy lingerie. Looking at the pantyhose, he muttered, "We'll have to get you some stockings." Stepping back, he then said, imperiously, "Put this on and come to my room – through that door." He gestured to the connecting door. "I'll open my side." Then he went to his room, next door.

Daniel realized, while he was changing, that he quite liked giving her orders.

Martha, on the other hand, was surprised by the novel feeling she got surrendering control. It was curiously thrilling, giving over responsibility to someone else.

Martha emerged through the inter-suite passage, looking meek and alluring. She stood, waiting, as Daniel finished up a search on his phone.

The taxi dropped them outside a shop called 'Lovecraft', that advertised itself as, "Adult XXX, Toys & Gear". Standing at the window, Martha's eyes went wide. She had never been to a sex-shop before.

They stood outside for a while, looking at a window-display of bondage paraphernalia. At first, Daniel made inane, jocular comments, to check out Martha's response. Her eyes were glued to the array of equipment laid out before them. After a bit, Daniel's comments became more deliberate, as he guessed at the uses of each item. Martha's grip on his arm became tighter as she pulled herself into his shoulder.

Abruptly sweeping her around, Daniel pulled her into the shop, and straight, like a guided missile, back to the BDSM display cabinet. "Allll-rightie, then" he quipped, "My treat." He gestured to the display. "Pick out anything, anything at all, you might be interested in trying." Martha looked at him questioningly, but said nothing, then, taking time and consideration, she made her selections. They felt like a couple of giddy teenagers as they made their purchases and left the shop.

Once back at the hotel, Daniel laid out their gathered accoutrements on the bed, and stepped back to curiously admire them. Martha had chosen carefully and thoughtfully: a full set of leather buckle cuffs – wrists and ankles; a collar and leather garter with lots of D-rings (Daniel had, at the last minute, thrown in several pairs of black stockings.); a selection of leather straps with snap-hooks; some sort of headgear harness set, yet to be fully understood; several assorted dildoes and vibrators; and a padded leather paddle.

"Hang on a sec," Daniel said, pulling them, reluctantly, back to reality for a few minutes. "I'd better make my nightly call home," and he disappeared through the passage, into his room.

"Me, as well," Martha agreed, as he left. Her husband didn't answer, so she left a message, trying, all the while, to control the confused excitement in her voice. It was funny how they both had the same regular bedtime check-in routines.

As Daniel spoke with his wife, Lorelei, he thought about her, at home, doing whatever it was she did, controlling her little piece of the world, too busy to much acknowledge his desires. At the same time, having left a voicemail, Martha wondered where Paul was. Was he still at the office? They were, both of them, workaholics – "But," she observed, silently, "at least when I'm home I'm actually present and available. He always seems to be elsewhere – even when he's home." She couldn't remember the last time they'd made love. Then, through some odd synchronicity, both Daniel and Martha had the very same thought at the very same time: "I don't feel nearly as guilty as I think I should."

Looking down on the bed, Martha felt the odd collection curiously beckoning her. When Daniel returned from his room, marital expectations taken care of, he stood for a moment, admiring his waiting boss. Martha met his gaze with an almost bewildered "What now?" look in her eyes.

Taking up his chosen role, Daniel snapped, "Get undressed. Now!" Unsure of herself and the situation, Martha began to disrobe. "Quickly! I want you completely naked.' Martha gave him an incomprehensible look, then complied silently.

"Relinquishing my position, my power," she thought, rationalizing her own behavior, "giving over all decision-making, renders me blameless." She felt oddly warm and coddled by that idea – indeed, by the entire situation.

As neither of them had any previous BDSM experience to draw on, they were guided solely by Daniel's imagination. Standing side by side next to the bed, looking down at the array, Daniel commented on each purchase. Martha just watched and listened – docile, as he held up each piece of the regalia. They tried on, investigated items from the collection. Daniel actively, Martha tacitly. The cuffs and collar went on first, then the garter-belt-come-waist-harness. Gradually, they fitted her up – adjusting buckles, positioning rings and straps.

Daniel grabbed a bar stool and placed it in the middle of the sitting-room. "Come over here,' he commanded, patting the seat of the stool, "tummy down." He was making this all up as he went along – drawn from scenes of vaguely recalled porn. "Reach your hands and hold the legs," he directed, "and hold your ankles against the feet of the stool." Leaning down, he fiddled with the Velcro straps on the cuffs and succeeded in fastening Martha, fairly firmly to the stool. Stepping back to admire his work, Daniel thought she looked, humped over, bottom exposed, lasciviously inviting.

Without taking his eyes off his erstwhile boss, Daniel stripped down and donned a ball-bag-thong he had slipped into the assortment, chuckling self-consciously. Standing still and tall, looking over the bound beauty appraisingly, Daniel paused. Taking a short break from the script of the game, they both assessed the novelty of the roles. "How're we doin'?" he asked.

Looking up at Daniel, through her lashes, Martha nodded, "Okay." then remarked, "Never in a million years did I ever imagine myself play this game." Still, she sparkled deep in her being with a hitherto unknown sense of delight.

"Well," Daniel replied, in a casual tone that so belied their current circumstances, "if you get to play the part of submissive – my sub, as it were – then I really should get fully into the role of dominator." At that point he leaned over and picked up the paddle. "Don't you think?"

She purred her assent, "Mmm-hmmm," lowering her gaze in respect.

"First, I think," Daniel muttered, thinking aloud, "we need to 'warm' your ass." He picked up the paddle, and admired it. It was sort of like a ping-pong bat, covered with uniformly perforated leather, and a leather lace at the handle. "Let's see," he crooned, rubbing the surface of the paddle in circles around each of Martha's buttocks. Then bouncing the bat which progressed to tapping her upturned bum, before actually starting to smack her arse, albeit lightly. Gauging her reaction, the spanking became increasing heavy. "Whack! Whack! Whack!"

"Oh! Oh! Owwweee! Oh, yes! Yessss!" Martha's vocal responses, if pleasingly unexpected, soon necessitated the application of the interchangeable ball-gag, that was part of the headgear set. After securing the gag-harness, and checking – "Okay?" Martha gave a slight nod. – he resumed using the paddle until both her ass cheeks glowed red.

Slowing down, Daniel reached his free hand between her thighs, and stroked her very moistened pussy. Lazily, he began to alternate – first a smack, then his fingers in her cunt – keeping her ass simmering, and bothering her clit, swirling his fingers around and over it. Martha was getting more and more aroused, whimpering against her gag, twisting and juddering against her bonds.

Maybe he was, Daniel considered for a sec, being presumptuous, but, inasmuch as Martha was fully involved, fully in the game, as it were, he decided to take her tacit consent as given. He lined up his now impressive rod and thrusted roughly into Martha's glistening vagina.

She exploded in climax, rocking back on the stool, straining against her restraints, mewling pathetically around the bright red ball of the gag. Daniel could feel her vaginal muscles grasping and squeezing. With a deliberate effort, he held off, rocking into her slowly and gently until she began the trembling, quivering descent from the heights of her climax. Soon, however, he could hold on no more, and with a rapid acceleration, thrusting wildly into her, he blasted Martha's womb with his cum, spewing spurt after spurt.

As he withdrew, their combined juices gushing out of her well used hole, and down her thighs, their ragged breathing synchronized, and, together, their breath slowed by increments.

Daniel gently released her, admiring her poise as she stretched to standing, her chocolate-brown body shimmering in the bright lights of the suite. After allowing her to toilet herself, he instructed Martha to assume the position, once more. Secured, once again, he threaded her with a butt-plug, and inserted a remote-control vibrator in her vagina – attached to the leather garter-harness affair. This time he swapped out the ball of the gag-harness for an inverted dildo, buckling it in place. At a loss for words, he worked quietly, double-checking the attachments of her ankles and wrists to the stool legs.

He left her bound for a few hours, randomly flicking the vibrator on and off, while he ordered and started watching a PPV adult movie. He got bored amazingly quickly. It all seemed so contrived and farcical. So, instead, he reviewed his notes from the afternoon's meeting, and looked over the symposium program for the following day, ignoring Martha, except for the occasional crotch-buzz.

Daniel brought Martha to one more climax before releasing her, washing her, and putting her to bed. She just smiled and moaned, pliable – but only vaguely aware – sort of like she was stoned. He marveled about how quickly she slipped into the peaceful sleep of a baby, then he joined her, in her bed, in her suite.

In the morning, as they showered and dressed, they waited for one or the other to break the uncertain silence. Finally, having no wish to further suffer the growing awkwardness, Daniel matter-of-factly reminded Martha to clean her appliances – her toys and all – and lay them out once more. Martha nodded, smiling demurely – feeling surprisingly relieved and refreshed.

Later, after a sumptuous room-service breakfast, Daniel took about directing Martha's preparation for the day's business. "You can leave the collar and cuffs for the time being," Daniel announced, "but put on the garter, please – no panties, puh-leeze." Once harnessed, Martha stood while Daniel crouched before her, lifted her skirt, and commenced fitting her: a vibrating butt-plug in her ass; vibrating Ben-Wa balls up her vagina; and a butterfly vibrator fastened ingeniously over her clitoris. "There," he said with a satisfied air, stepping back assess his handiwork, which was, indeed, completely inconspicuous. "Stay still while I check them out," Daniel ordered, picking up and studying three small remote controls. As each device came on, Martha started, but remained still – a slight smile curling her lips.

"Okay, let's just put the rest of this stuff," Daniel gestured towards the remainder of the paraphernalia, "out of sight of curious housekeeping staff."

After brushing her teeth and combing her hair, Martha emerged from the bathroom ready to head out to the conference. But Daniel held out his hand to stop her. "Not just yet," he announced. "First, I need a blowjob," and, giving her a challenging look, he lowered his fly, fishing out his semi-turgid prick. To her credit, Martha only hesitate for one stunned moment before wordlessly dropping into a crouch and reaching for Daniel's cock. Balancing precariously on her high heels, she leaned forward to catch the pearl of pre-cum with her tongue, before rounding her lips and pushing herself onto his still stiffening erection. Without stopping, she pressed forward until she had him, full deep-throat, his glans pushing at the back of his pharynx – which surprised the both of them. Rocking back on her heels, she quickly set her rhythm – plunge and withdraw, capture and release. Martha stroked and squeezed with her hands on the out strokes, pushing her lips into his pubes on the insertion thrusts.

Then, changing it up as she sensed his growing arousal, she reached over her head to twiddle Daniel's nips through his pressed white shirt. She could feel him getting closer – thickening and jolting – his orgasm becoming imminent. "Think of it as an intimate protein mouthwash," he chuckled, checking his watch. "Better hurry. We've got to be downstairs in only a few minutes, and you need to suck me off first... and," he announced dramatically, "show me your mouthful, swirl, and swallow. Try not to get any on our business suits. Cum stains would be rather embarrassing, eh?" At that instant, almost cruelly, Daniel fired up the butterfly.

The stimulation against her clitoris ignited a sudden, sharp arousal across her genitalia, momentarily distracting her from her felatio, but her only response was the token protest of a raised eyebrow, as she continued to rock and thrust enthusiastically on and off Daniel's rampant erection – mewling and whimpering in both anticipation and arousal.

And, in the end, she was eminently successful, as Daniel's morning orgasm boiled and burst from his loins. Unfortunately for Martha, he shut down the vibrator just as he climaxed, leaving Martha maddeningly close – and hanging. Mind you, secretly – or, perhaps, not so secretly – as she swallowed his semen, Martha was delighted; she was curiously thrilled at what he'd got her to do, and with the novel change in their relationship.

They hustled into conference – Martha fixing her make-up in the elevator - with the taste of semen still fresh on her breath and in her mouth. When she was called upon to speak, she mounted the stage apprehensively, feeling the appliances within her orifices. She blushed at the thought of her salacious secret. Still, she began her presentation confidently enough.

Martha paused in the middle of her presentation, for reflection and emphasis. Unexpectedly – although not really – her breath caught and her cheeks coloured when the vibrator in her ass suddenly came to life. She looked out, through her sparkling nerves, to see Daniel watching her intently. Somehow, she managed to flash him a secret, appreciative smile – despite the guerrilla stimulation she was enduring – before gathering her composure and continuing her talk.

The vibrator in her butt got stronger and more intense. The hundred or more sets of eyes on her, rather than inhibiting her arousal, incited it. She fought to stay focused, until, mercifully, the action of her butt-plug began to diminish. But, then, the electric dildo in her pussy came to life. Martha began to sweat, her presentation stuttering slightly; though no one but she and Daniel noticed. As she neared the conclusion of her speech, the device in her pussy slowed and faded, but the butterfly at her clit abruptly came on, maddening in its stimulation.