Sunday Best Ch. 02

The palm of his hand smacked against my buttocks with a resounding crack. It was more sound than fury, but still, it was enough to send a jolt of sexual frisson shooting through me. I gasped, my breath catching in shock and pleasure. I barely had time to take another breath before another smack landed on my ass.

"You like that?" he chuckled between a third and fourth slap. I nodded, biting my lip as a fifth smack landed. "Good, I'm really happy for you." Another smack landed, soon followed by his hand settling to give my buttock a soothing rub. "Although it's not really doing anything for me. Sorry." I was mortified that I wasn't yet turning him on. "Stand up." He ordered.

I stood, catching sight of my flushed, red cheeks in the mirror by the door.

"Start undoing your blouse."

"No," I protested weakly. The lack of resolve behind my words must have been clear to him. He never flinched for a moment.

"Yes. Start to undo your blouse now. Slowly. Imagine I'm your son's friend, back from the gym. I've sneaked in here and I'm spying on you, just like in your second fantasy."

I could feel how deeply I was breathing as my fingers moved to the top button on my blouse. Our eyes locked briefly, before his gaze dropped down, watching me undress. The third button on my blouse was undone now -- half way down. He just sat watching her, that oh-so-confident smile playing around his lips and eyes. I paused.

"Keep going," he commanded. Panting heavily, I struggled to control my fingers as they moved down to open the next button. Was I struggling to open the button or to stop myself opening it? Even I wasn't really sure any more.

"Good," he nodded as the last button opened. "You're really good at that. But still nothing down here." He shrugged, tapping his still more or less bulge-free pants. "Put your top back on and we'll go through to the bedroom." It was said so casually, as though it was inevitable and unremarkable.

"You're kidding!" I weakly protested, knowing my ability to deny him was long gone.

"No. I'm not. You are going to go through to the bedroom and we are going to try again. Up the ante. Your third fantasy."

I was in a daze, the whole experience was totally alien to me, outside of my private fantasies. I seemed to have no choice but to do exactly as he told me to do.

He followed me closely down the hall, directing me into his bedroom with supremely assured self-confidence.

"OK, let's set the scene a bit..." he remarked casually, going through drawers, pulling out a handful of silk ties and scarves. "I don't have any stockings to dump on the bed, so these'll have to stand in." Then he pulled out some sort of white wand like device, maybe a foot or more long and a few inches in diameter. It had a power lead at one end and a big, bulbous head at the other.

"Sports massager." He explained in response to my wide, questioning eyes, tossing it on the bed. "I use it for training injuries. Sorry, I don't have any sex toys. This'll just have to do."

"Don't be silly," I protested. "It's huge!"

"Oh! You thought..?" he laughed and shook his head. "No. Don't worry, I'd never dream of using it like that." He winked back.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Right then, I'll go behind the wardrobe door and you start undressing."

I could scarcely believe what I was doing. I stood by his big, King-sized bed and, a quivering mess of excitement and nerves, I began to unbutton my shirt. I could feel his eyes on me all the while. The last button came free and I paused. Then, before I could rationalise what I was doing, I shucked my shirt off my shoulders, turning as I did so, giving him a clear view of my pert breasts, still cradled within my lacy bra. I could feel the fabric pushing back against my nipples as they pressed outwards, straining for attention.

My hands, as though on autopilot, moved round my skirt, first undoing my ornamental belt and then tugging down the side zipper running the length of my hip. After a few seconds the zipper reached the end of its run and soon after my grey herringbone skirt pooled on the floor, covering my shoes and ankles.

That was when he sprung out from behind the door.

Even though I knew it was coming, a jolt of surprise still shot through me. Impulsively, I took a step as though to flee but I stumbled on my skirt, tumbling towards the bed.

The next thing I remember I was on the bed, struggling ineffectually beneath him like a pinned butterfly. He moved with incredible strength, speed and assuredness. Both my wrists were clasped in one of his strong hands while the other looped something long and silky around them and then on up, securing my arms to the bedhead. Another few seconds, another few pointless struggles on my part and my ankles were similarly secured.

My cheeks and my belly were aflame. My heart was beating like a drum. I felt wicked. I felt fantastic.

"You want this, don't you?" He growled, a hand stroking my stockinged calf.

"Yes," I heard my voice answer. It was true, I did.

"You want me to bring your fantasy to life." The hand ghosted up, over my knee, up my thigh.

"Yes," I croaked, barely able to speak.

He stood and smiled down at me. I was shocked and disappointed to see that he still didn't seem to be exhibiting a bulge in his shorts: by now I was so turned on I was sure my panties must be soaked.

"So, are you secure?" He asked. I tugged at the silk scarfs tying me to the bed frame.

"Seems so," I confirmed, recovering some of my composure as the adrenaline rush from him pinning me down and tying me up receded. "But it doesn't look like it did you any good. So you can untie me..."

"No, I think we're getting somewhere. We'll press on." And with that he seemed to half turn away and reach inside his boxers. I craned my neck to see what he was doing. When he turned back, a few seconds later, my eyes were torn between the hard, athletic box which his hand seemed to be dropping to the floor bedside the bed and the large bulge now pushing the front of his shorts out by about six inches. Where had that come from? Had the box been hiding it all along? Had I been tricked?

Did I care if I had been? Not truthfully, not at that precise moment.

He smiled down at me and pulled off his vest, revealing the shapely, well-muscled torso which I had long known would be underneath.

"See?" he asked, dropping his shorts now, allowing himself to spring free. "Now, we're making progress at last. So what was next in your fantasy?" His cock was big, dark, velvety and very, very erect.

My cheeks flushed as I recalled what I had told him came next. Whether through lust, embarrassment or something else, I couldn't bring myself to tell him.

"Oh, I remember. First the vibrator..." He lifted the oversized wand, plugged the long cable into a power socket and began twiddling with the controls.

I was panting heavily, desperate to escape, yet also desperate for him to fulfil my fantasy.

He turned it on and it buzzed like a nest of angry wasps. My eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets.

"Don't worry, it's the lowest setting," he winked at me, waving the manically buzzing white wand around in front of my face for a few seconds before lowering it out of my sight.

What was he about to do? Or, more realistically, where was he going to start?

The wand touched against the sole of my foot, nearly overwhelming me with its unaccustomed vibrations. I gasped and he laughed.

Slowly, so slowly it was almost unbearable, he moved the head of the machine up my stocking-sheathed legs, lavishing attention first on my feet, then my calves, my knees, my thighs. He took an age, exploring every part of my legs in minute detail. I shivered in anticipation. I knew what must be coming next.

Or I thought I did.

He reached the top of my thighs and sniggered as he passed over my crotch, making straight for my belly. Soon he had moved higher and was circling my boob, spiralling slowly in towards the nipple, taking almost as much time as he had over my legs. He was lying beside me now. I could feel his hot, heavy cock lying across my thigh, rubbing against me, moving around as though of its own accord.

"So, do you want this on you?" He teased me.

I nodded almost imperceptibly.

"No, not good enough," was his taunting reply. I was in despair. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"I want," I gasped. "I want it on my pussy."

"Say please," he laughingly teased me, waving the device before my wide, desperate eyes.

"Please!" I begged.

He smiled broadly, licked his lips and then touched the wand back against my thigh, just above my stocking top. The frantic vibration, so close yet so far, had me mewling like a kitten, desperate for more. I could hear his chuckles through the fog of my excitement and the buzzing of the wand.

"PLEASE!" I begged. He replied to my desperate cry with a sonorous laugh. And then it was there, pressed against me through the thin lace of my panties, driving me wild, stimulating me like nothing else I had ever known.

"You like that?"

"Mmmm," I groaned, sensible thought having been lost amongst the multitude of pleasures being bestowed upon me.

"You want more?"

"Yes, I want more," I whimpered.

"Good." He lay the device atop my thighs and picked up a tie and a scarf. What was he doing? A few seconds later, all became clear. He was tying the wand to my thighs, securing it against my pussy. The buzzing from the wand suddenly soared upwards in pitch -- he must have turned up the frequency of the vibrations.

"What are you..?" I began to ask, half dreading, half longing for the answer as growing tremors of pleasure arced outwards from my pussy, reaching every extremity of my body. My words trailed off in a groan.

"Hey, it's your fantasy. Have you forgotten?" He laughed, hefting himself up so that his naked and fully erect cock swung into my view. My frown showed that I couldn't recall what might happen next. "You're going to suck me off." He explained with a broad grin.

I opened my mouth to protest, or perhaps to suck in air, gasping as the keening wand began to drive my body wild with undreamed-of excitement. Either way, it was a foolish thing to do as I immediately found myself all but silenced by the massive shaft which he expertly swung between my lips.

He tasted of salt and fresh sweat and sex. It was delicious. What else could I do but suck and lick?

Slowly, gently, perhaps even considerately, he pumped his cock in and out of my mouth. His hands seemed to have found my breasts, adding to my excitement and pleasure as the kneaded, tweaked and caressed me. Those two things alone would have been exciting enough, but the wand strapped between my thighs, pressed against my lips and my clit was inescapable. It buzzed away with a ferocity that nothing before had prepared me for, and all the while my mouth feasted on his rigid, enormous cock.

And yet through all of that I suddenly felt an almost overwhelming urge to go to the bathroom. Fortunately, at that moment, Dick withdrew from my mouth.

"I need to pee!" I spluttered frantically, hoping he would take me seriously and let me go. But instead he just laughed, one hand still rolling my nipple while the other was now stroking away at his cock.

"You're not going to pee. You're going to squirt," he announced with supreme arrogance.

And yet he was right. No sooner had the words left his mouth than my body was wracked by the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. My orgasm gushed forth between my legs, soaking my thighs. And at that moment his cock exploded across me, rope after rope of cum hitting my cheek and my hair, trailing across my neck and breasts. I opened my mouth, determined to catch and taste just a little of his seed. I was not disappointed.

As my climax ebbed away he mercifully reached over and switched off the wand: Although the sensations had been beyond amazing, now I felt over stimulated and it was a blessed relief when it stopped.

I was still struggling to get my breath back as he undid whatever was strapping the wand to my thigh and lifted it away.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" He chuckled. I could barely do more than nod in reply. He reclined on his side alongside me, rubbing my arm with gentle affection.

"Me too." His finger traced where his cum had fallen on my neck and hair by way of illustration. "I think I'm going to need regular therapy like this."

"Regular?" I frowned, thinking to protest that this would never, must never, ever happen again. "No...No!"

"Yes, regular. I must insist," he commanded.

"Well, if you insist," I nodded my assent. I was still tied up, after all. I told myself I wasn't exactly in a position to disagree.

"I'll expect you Tuesday evening at 7, sharp. That should give enough time to prepare."

"Prepare? For what?"

"You'll find out." He ran a hand freely over my body, passing over my boobs, my hips, my thighs, before finally cupping my sex. "Although I wouldn't say that we're finished today," he laughed as his finger slipped inside my panties. "You see, I've just had a little fantasy of my own." He smirked, as two of his fingers slid into my dripping pussy and began to stroke. "About some prim, sexy woman I find tied to a bed in nothing but her underwear." He leant in close until he was whispering in my ear. "So I fuck her over and over, all afternoon, until I can't get it up any more."

"Please!" I squealed, allowing Dick to interpret whether I might have meant please yes or please no. Perhaps it was a little of both?

The end