Bedded by Strangers: Fantasies Unleashed 2 (5 page)

My position changed. The pulleys altered the swing’s angle to raise my back and head, and gravity added to the force of each thrust, the deepness of the penetration. I’d never felt a cock in so deep.

I exploded again, pulling my back up off the swing as my insides convulsed—as my whole body shuddered—shaking and thrashing and greedily grasping at the cock inside me.

The man stopped thrusting, and still lodged inside me, he pressed his thumb onto my clit, moving his cock slowly inside me as I rode out my contractions. When he withdrew his still rock-hard cock, I gasped. My insides burned, throbbing but still wanting more. He pushed the swing back, and I flew across the room, caught by another man who pushed the swing again.

This continued for a while, me swinging and spinning until I lost all sense of direction. Then, after catching me, the man with the smooth brown skin thrust inside me, fucking me hard and fast before passing me over to another man, then another. I continued to swing between the men, and each time I was caught, I never knew whether I’d be fucked before being pushed back, whether I’d be penetrated just once, or fucked hard. Or whether the man who caught me would drop to his knees and suck.

Losing all track of time, I closed my eyes, focused only on the sensations between my legs, on the differences between each cock: the length, the girth, the angle, the depth of each penetration. Each man hit different places inside me, awakening new nerves, striking my sex in different ways. I started to feel numb, over-stimulated, but at the same time euphoric. Someone slapped my ass, and it barely registered. I wasn’t sure whether or not I could still distinguish pleasure from pain.

The speed of the swinging slowed, most of the men only kissing my thighs, or rubbing their hard cocks against me, rather than thrusting inside. But just as I assumed it was over, another cock slid into me, hard. I gasped.

Feeling the brush of fabric on my belly, I opened my eyes. It was my voyeur.

His eyes and the rest of his features were shaded by his mask and the overhead lighting. Driven all the way in, he held me against him, not moving, just penetrating, and I could almost feel his cock twitch inside me. Holding me suspended, he bent to kiss my hard nipple, and my body arched into his kiss, the sensitive skin wanting to be taken by his mouth, just as his cock was taking my sex.

He lathed and sucked and, although he held the swing still, although there was no friction from his penetration, I felt his hardness like a rock inside me.

I moved my hips, as much as I could within the confines of the restraints, and groaning deep in his chest, he raised his head and started to thrust. The speed was unreal. It was like his hips were a jackhammer, pounding, trying to break me apart. And although his wasn’t the largest cock I’d had inside me that night, the sensations were the most intense.

On the edge of an orgasm, I was unable to get there. And still he thrust. Every cell on my body was on fire and his thrusts went on forever, becoming sharp, too hard, too fast. I couldn’t take anymore. There was no way I could climax again. The sex was starting to hurt.

“Red light,” I said.

He kept pounding.

“Red light!” I raised my head, trying to appeal to the man, but his masked face was a dark and ominous silhouette above me. “Red light. Stop. Please stop.”

He pulled out and slumped over me. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Safe word. I forgot.” He pressed his lips to my throat.

I was so angry I wanted to push him off me, but my hands were still bound and I was so spent I wasn’t sure I could move.

I inhaled, unable to avoid his musky scent. An unmistakable scent.

“Thom?”

His head snapped back and he tore off his mask. “I’m so sorry, baby. So sorry.”

“My hands.”

He reached up to undo the bindings and then cradled me in his arms. My ankles were still hooked in, and my arms were nearly numb, barely able to hold him. My entire body was numb and I was so exhausted I could barely process what was happening.

I felt his hot tears on the back of my neck before I realized he was crying.

“Hey.” I used an almost-dead arm to stroke down his back. “Talk to me.” Then I remembered we weren’t alone.

I glanced around, but couldn’t see any of the other men. The light over the swing shone in my eyes, making it very difficult to see anything else.

“Get me out of this thing.”

Thom, dressed only in his shirt and socks, gently undid the soft straps around my ankles and waist, then lifted me from the sling. I wrapped my now-prickling arms around his neck, and in spite of what had just happened, I felt safe in his arms. So protected.

“Tell the others to leave,” I said.

“They’re already gone.”

I felt my body relax in my husband’s arms, then remembered the bath. The water would be cold now, but it still sounded good, and as much as I’d enjoyed the sex, I wanted every trace of those other men gone. “Bathtub?”

He nodded and carried me to the bathroom, now lit with candles, and again I marveled at how and when this had happened. Instead of setting me inside the tub, Thom stepped in himself and then gently lowered us both into the water.

“It’s still hot.”

“I think the tub is heated,” he said.

We settled down, and I sat between his legs, leaning back against his chest.

“Your shirt.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

And he was right. It didn’t matter. I let the heat of the water and my husband’s body engulf me, easing out the pain of spent muscles, leaving only fatigue.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” His voice broke. “I’m not a pro like those guys. I lost control. Watching you being fucked by those men, watching you in ecstasy like that...”

I reached up to cup his head behind me. “Why did you watch? Why put yourself through that?”
Why did you even set this up?
I wondered.

“Truth?” he asked.

“Of course. Always.”

“Watching you was incredibly hot. The most fucking sexy thing I have ever seen.” His voice was husky.

I shifted and realized he was still hard. Or hard again. “Really?”

“Ever since you told me your fantasy”—his hand stroked up and down between my breasts, tracing the space between my throat and my belly—“I couldn’t stop thinking about the idea.”

Oh no. My fantasy had been haunting him, making him feel like he wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have told you about it. You’ve always been enough for me. I didn’t mean for the fantasy to ever come true.”

“You misunderstand,” he said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it because it was my fantasy, too.”

“You want to have sex with strangers?”

“No.” His leg slid against mine as one of his knees rose above the water, and I traced my fingers over the freckles there. “I wanted to watch you having sex with other men. I wanted to see you pleasured and fucked, taken in a way I didn’t think I could take you myself. I wanted to observe you, enjoy you visually in a way I can’t when I’m the one inside you.”

“Baby.” I turned to face him, and his eyes were full of uncertainty.

“Years before you told me your fantasy,” he continued, “from the first time I watched you masturbate, I started to imagine watching you having sex with someone else.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I should have. I thought about it. And after we planned this trip, I found out about Fantasies Unleashed and realized that I could hire them to make both of our fantasies come true.”

“Thank you,” I said realizing that with everything else, I still hadn’t said it. “What you did for me tonight. It went beyond my wildest dreams.”

“Until the end,” he said. “Until I hurt you. I was too rough, too fast.”

“No.” I stroked his thigh. “You weren’t too rough, or too fast, you were just last. By that time I’d had too much, I’d felt too much; my body just couldn’t take anymore.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said. “In fact, I’d love it if you fucked me that hard sometimes.”

He kissed my cheek. “I’d love that, too.”

We sat together in silence, the water soothing the pain, my body molding into his in such a familiar way. The night had been fantastic, exciting, overwhelming, but I couldn’t stand the thought that it might have broken us in any way. Damaged what we had. After tonight, would our marriage be the same?

CHAPTER SIX

A
s we relaxed in silence, I trailed my fingers along his thighs, enjoying the rise and fall of his chest at my back. He took off his shirt and socks and threw them in a soppy mess to the floor. He ran his hands down my arms, gently massaging, before he moved up to my shoulders and neck. As his thumbs pressed out the knots and tension, we started to feel normal again, like us, and I’d never been more in love.

His erection pressed against my ass. “You’re still hard.” I turned and took him in my hand.

His body lurched. “Like a rock.”

“Maybe I can help you with that.”

He reached down to cover my hand with his, shaking his head. “No, baby. That’s okay.”

“Let’s shower off these bubbles,” I said and rose, offering my hand to him after I sat on the edge and swung my legs out of the tub. I led him into the shower and quickly figured out how to make the water fall like soft rain. Under the warm cascades of water, we held each other, and I reached up to pull his lips down to mine.

We kissed, tenderly at first, pausing to look into each other’s eyes, and I’d never felt more grateful to the universe for sending me this man. For having him be the one who noticed me dancing with my friends at a party that first week of college. I felt grateful I’d saved myself for him, resisting the temptation to ‘just do it already’ with one of my two high school boyfriends, even though I knew I wasn’t in love. I was so grateful that Thom, my true love, had been my first lover and until tonight, my only.

And I realized what his being here tonight meant—meant for me. The fact that he’d watched, participated, experienced this fantasy with me—whether or not it was logical, for me it meant that he was
still
my one and only lover. My one and only forever. I’d had no sexual experiences that he wasn’t a part of. That thought not only comforted me and filled me with love, it turned me on.

Coming up for breath from our kiss, I switched the shower to the soft mist mode and pulled him across the large space until I could sit down on the bench and take him into my mouth.

“No, baby,” he said. “It’s okay. I don’t need—” His words were cut short by a deep moan as I swirled my tongue under his head, then rubbed the vein on the underside of his cock the way that I knew that he loved. He stopped trying to talk as I sucked on his sweet head, pulling it into my mouth with vacuum-like force, and then slowly licking along the underside before taking the bulb inside again.

I’ve always loved my husband’s cock, but never more than that moment. I grasped his balls in one hand, his ass with the other, and looked up into his eyes. The heat and desire I saw egged me on. Although I knew my body wouldn’t accept any more penetration tonight, heat and wetness built down there again, mimicking what was going on in my mouth.

I licked and sucked, I lathed and nipped, I pulled his balls into my mouth, took his cock farther in than I’d ever managed—even attempted—before. Holding my head gently in his hands, he lost control of his hips, involuntarily pumping, and I loved it.

Watching Thom’s orgasm build—veins rising under his skin, tension growing in his jaw, desire consuming his expression—I wondered if this was how he’d felt watching me.

My finger reached back to tease his asshole, circling and lightly pressing, something we’d never done before. When I pushed the tip of one finger inside him he came, shouting my name, tightening his muscles, shooting his seed down my throat. It was the most powerful, most violent orgasm I’d ever seen him have. When it was over, he dropped to his knees and I gathered him into my arms.

We clung to each other, both heaving, both trying to catch our breath as the warm mist bathed us and washed away our tears.

Without speaking, he rose, lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed. We tucked ourselves under the sheets, and then lying forehead to forehead, our limbs entwined, we drifted off to sleep.

***

I woke in the same position, Thom staring into my eyes.

“Morning,” he said.

“Did you even sleep?” I asked.

“Soundly.” He brushed my hair back from my eyes. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so lucky.”

“I’m the one who’s lucky.” I stretched and felt his hardness against my belly.

We kissed, and I took him in my hand. Wrapping my leg over his hip, I pushed forward slowly, luxuriously, until he was partially inside. Looking into my eyes, he pressed deeper, testing me, cautiously watching, trusting me to tell him if this wasn’t okay.

When he was in to the hilt, he stayed still, letting me keep control. I rocked against him, his body sparking all the still-sensitive places inside me. I was sore, but the feeling was glorious.

“Thank you,” I said as I clenched my inner muscles around him. “Last night was fantastic.”

“No regrets?” he asked.

“Not for me. You?”

“None. Not if you don’t have any.”

I kissed him, then said, “How could I have any regrets? The fact that you did that for me, the fact that you even
thought
of doing that for me, makes me love you a thousand times more than I already did, which was already a thousand times more than I ever thought I could ever love anyone.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Do you have any fantasies that I can fulfill?” I asked as I rocked my pelvis, absorbing every fabulous inch of him.

“This,” he said. “This is my fantasy. You’re already fulfilling it.”

I smiled and stroked his cheek. “Promise me that you’ll tell me if you have any others? Even if they’re fantasies that can’t be fulfilled, even if we only talk about them. Promise me that you’ll tell me?”

“Yes,” he said on an exhale. He thrust forward and I tightened around him. “I promise.”

I leaned to whisper into his ear. “Actually, I have another fantasy.”