So there I was. Just to remind you of the situation that I was in this time a week ago. Mouth taped up. Mute. Wrists tied behind me. Temporarily disabled. Ankle attached to a fixture. Immobilised. Naked. In my own bedroom. Head full of sexual wonder and imagination. I had just watched Mike, my husband of 23 years, fuck his hooded girlfriend, right in front of me. I had smelled it, heard it, and seen it.
The intense visual images of the last hour were replaying fast and randomly through my head. The smell of male and female sexual aromas, including my own, lingering in the air. Sweat beads were still running down my now slowly cooling face and chest. Trying to process what I’d just been a witness to. My erogenous zones ready to explode. My legs struggling to support me because of my muscles tiring from being unable to move properly. My arms aching from being tied together at the wrist. My body drained due to all the intense physical feelings induced by the chemicals of my mind. A desperate need to touch myself to achieve release through an orgasm. I was 46, but feeling much younger. I had previously thought that Mike’s and my recent sexual experimenting with other partners had been risky and extreme. But this was now a whole new level.
I was feeling like a changed person as my mind had been taken to places that I had never known existed. My preconceptions of what was right and wrong, and where the boundaries of acceptable pleasure lay, were historic fallacies. Was I going over the top in feeling all this? Would it last? I didn’t know. I couldn’t get a proper sense of the perspective of time: my immediate needs and incapacity versus wondering about the role of sex in the rest of my life!
My conscious mind was trying to collect my thoughts. However, my imagination was going to a different galaxy, led by the sensations in all the sensual parts of my body which had been stimulated while remaining completely untouched. I didn’t know I could feel so desirous of an orgasm, and so close to one, without any physical contact: a sort of sexual anticipation theoretically derived from cosmic inflation. It felt like almost any change, however minimal and even asexual, to the current psycho-sexual situation of my physical and emotional isolation, would trigger me into cumming like a spaceship suddenly pulled into a wormhole.
I tried to focus. Fundamentally I was still in my own bedroom, unable to move or to communicate, or to reach anything useful. I didn’t know how long I would remain like this. I didn’t even know if Mike was in the house, or not. I began to think not. I could see it was 9:38. About five minutes since I had heard the noise of the front door open and then immediately close. Mike had led Kate out of the room a few minutes earlier, leaving me there. Surely he wouldn’t leave me alone like this for too long. He wouldn’t want to harm or endanger me. He loved me and desired me. His live sex show with Kate, right in front of me, had confirmed this. I remembered that he had been fucking her to impress me. He would be back soon. I was sure of it. And then he could bring me to orgasm in whatever way he wanted. Him just looking at me might even be enough. And I needed that release so badly.
A few more minutes passed. My thoughts moved slightly away from sexual desire to address my trapped physical state. I began to try to move my legs a little to ease the cramping muscles. There was no way I could escape though. I tried to move my face muscles to loosen the duct tape. But Mike had applied three pieces very thoroughly and they would not budge. I tried to rub the cable tie around my wrists against the edge of the radiator to cut it. But the effort required was huge and produced no results. The mental concentration on these tasks displaced some of my sexual longing, but I could still feel the throbbing in my clit, the burning deep inside my cunt, and the electric tingling in my nipples.
The clock now showed 9:47. I had been on my own like this for nearly twenty minutes; and tied like this for an hour before that. I was just beginning to feel slightly concerned when I heard the front door open and close again. I felt the relief flow through me. The anticipation of sexual release rushed through me instantaneously. Mike would come into the room and do whatever he wanted to me. He was coming home. And his cock would soon be ramming into its rightful home: my cunt. Or even into its new home next door: my arse. If he wanted. I didn’t now want to refuse any of Mike’s sexual ideas ever again. He was my sex god and the idea of not following his lead seemed absurd. Mentally and even physically.
I then realised that it had been a minute or more since Mike had entered the house. Why wasn’t he coming upstairs to free me and to fuck me? I could hear nothing. I began to have a moment of renewed fear and disappointment. It didn’t last long. I heard footsteps on the stairs. Most reassuring. My cunt and arse were ready for him. The footsteps approached the bedroom door. I was so ready to be taken. My orgasm was building fast again. The door began to open. My man would be on me and inside me in moments. I felt so alive.
Then a very tall, athletic and handsome young man appeared, wearing only pale blue boxers and a beautiful smile. Not Mike. A wave of shock and fear coursed through me. My brain struggled to process it. I felt deflated, confused, lost. Slightly frightened. Where was Mike? Who was this guy? Surely he wasn’t a threat, but I was immediately defensive and worried.
“Good evening, Mrs Edrych,” he said confidently, in a smooth and gentle voice with a disarming charm.
And suddenly I realised that it was Dan. I knew him. My fear subsided, my embarrassment rocketed and my quizzical mind took over. Dan had lived next door to us as a youngster, until the family moved across town when he was maybe 12. He had remained good friends with my son, who was about a year younger, and I’d seen him often growing up. He must be about 24 now. I hadn’t seen him for more than a year since my son moved away. He looked fantastic, with such piercing blue-grey eyes, a finely crafted jawline and a beautifully, beguiling mouth. But what the hell was he doing here now? With me naked, tied up, gagged and him in just his boxers... And what was Mike playing at? Surely he must be involved somehow; otherwise Dan wouldn’t have just randomly turned up. But I couldn’t work it out.
“How are you doing? Mr Edrych sent me to help you out,” Dan continued. I was perturbed; which was fair enough in the circumstances. I must have shown it on my face.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s great to see you again,” he said in a very casual way. “You look fantastic.” Despite the madness of the inexplicable situation, and the weirdness of the whole evening, don’t forget that I was hugely sexually aroused. I needed release through orgasm. And there was a very attractive, nearly naked, charming young man, right in front of me. With a gorgeous mellifluous voice. Apparently sent by my husband. I so wanted to ask him what on earth was happening. But I still couldn’t talk...
“As you might remember, you’re not really my type, but you’re the sexiest naked woman I’ve seen for years,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes, and a brutal charm that would ease any listener towards sexual submission. It made me want him. He was a man with a cock and I needed sexual fulfilment. Now. And intensely. And then I suddenly deciphered the comment about not being “his type”... I remembered that Dan was basically gay. I say “basically” because I knew he’d had a couple of girlfriends when younger, and he’d never properly come out as gay. My son said Dan was probably bisexual, but he wasn’t entirely sure as Dan didn’t feel the need for a clear label. This all just made it so much weirder. But he was still hot. And I was in need.
I studied in him in a little more detail. Dan had always been a smiling, contented, playful boy. I remember often spending time with him, his Mum, and my son when they were little, in our garden, or theirs next door. Later he had been the school rugby team captain, in which my son had played. Dan had been one of the star players, scoring many tries, and leading by example on and off the field. He had matured into a very fine young man, with a superbly-defined body. He clearly still looked after himself. I imagined he still played rugby. He was well-groomed: tidily managed hair, clean shaven, and, very noticeably to me, almost no body hair that I could see. It intrigued me and turned me on. I had heard that young men were shaving their whole bodies these days, but I hadn’t witnessed it. I began to wonder how much pubic hair, if any, he had.
He smiled in reassurance again and approached even closer. I could feel his breath exhaling across the top of my head, slightly fluttering a few wispy hairs. I could smell his fragrance, probably a Hugo Boss, I guessed. He touched my right shoulder softly with his left hand in a friendly gesture. The contact was electric. Whatever his sexuality, he was a gentle and beautiful human being. And I wanted him to touch me more. All over. In all the parts that were aching to explode. He brushed his fingers down my arm. I shook and moaned through my gag. He knew it was turning me on. He touched my left arm in a similar way with his right fingers. I shook and moaned more.
“Do you like it?” he asked. I nodded my head vigorously. “Good,” he said. “Mr Edrych has sent me here with instructions to please you. Look,” he said, producing a phone from the rear waistband of his boxers and showing me the screen. It was a text from “Mr Edrych”, saying: “Pleasure her any way you like. Untie her legs and wrists but leave her gagged. Your job is to make her cum as hard and as often as you can. Tell her to obey you. Thanks. Call me later.”
I read carefully. Mike had made quite a project of this. It sounded great, and I felt so pleased to be sexualised to such an extent by Mike in this, though I had no idea how he had engaged Dan as a participant. “Are you OK with all that?” Dan asked, still brushing my upper arms. “Will you do what I tell you?” I nodded very firmly.
This was another amazing unexpected erotic turn in a mad evening. Mike had delegated my sexual fulfilment to a hot young guy. I wanted Dan to take control, to exercise the power invested in him by Mike as the overlord. Because I had been forced physically into submission by Mike for the last ninety minutes and I was now passive and needy. Because this young man came with that special licence from Mike. And because he was right there, touching me, staring into me, ripped and beautiful.
It was a great play by Mike, to follow on from the live show he had already given me. Once again the sexual fire within me was burning to my extremities. I wanted Dan to relieve me now. I didn’t care how gay he was. I didn’t know what he might do to me: I mean he was gay, or bi. So did that mean he wouldn’t fuck my cunt? I didn’t really care: I was totally disempowered anyway. And I’d just agreed to follow his lead. So anything was possible. I’m sure Mike had told him what to do. I tried to speculate but gave up. I knew Dan had fingers to tantalise me, a tongue for exploring and talking, and a cock to invade me. And a brain to allow him to push my boundaries. And it seemed that I was going to be physically released from my bounds. But still not allowed to speak, forcing me to be a passive pleasure taker, which I was getting used to. And it would be Dan, not Mike, who would lead along the path to climax, and take me there. Although I didn’t know the detailed plan, compared to a few minutes ago, I had much greater certainty of what would be happening in the following minutes. It was empowering; it allowed me to focus on cumming and to have the best possible time in my mind on the way to orgasm.
“Brilliant,” he replied. “I can tell you now, unashamedly, that I fancied you so much as a teenager, Mrs Edrych, even though I thought I might be gay. I never thought I would get to touch you naked, and with Mr Erdych’s agreement.” He had genuine emotion in his voice and a look of deep intensity on his beautiful young face. He lowered his head and kissed my chest. I shook. Violently. He held me firmly round the waist as I trembled. “It’s OK, Mrs Edrych. I’m here to please you,” he reassured me. I wanted to tell him to call me “Jane”, not “Mrs Edrych”, as he always had. It seemed wrong to be acting sexually and being called that name. But I couldn’t speak, of course.
He said that he would untie me. First he bent down to free my left leg. I smelt his hair as his head passed near my face. It was an olfactory melody of maleness that perfectly complemented the visual beauty of his appearance and the auditory beauty of his voice. He unclasped the carabiner from the radiator pipe and then removed the gym cuff from my ankle. The noise of the Velcro ripping open was sweet and portentous, like the explosion of a champagne bottle expelling its cork. I felt the immense relief of being able to move my legs again; to adjust my weight across my legs and to loosen the muscles and to minimise the cramps.
The he turned his attention to my wrists. He stood up and reached over to take the nail scissors from my table. It gave me a close rear view allowing me to appreciate his tight butt, his considerable rippling trapezius muscle, and the tightness around his slender male waist. He took my arms, brushing my forearms with his. The touch on my skin was superb: a fulfilment of the first level of simmering sensual need and a hint of greater contact that would surely follow, though I didn’t know what. He took my hands, and with a few seconds of careful cutting effort he released the cable tie from my wrists. I swung my arms to get the blood flowing and the muscles working. I reached for the back of his head, pulled it down to my height, and kissed him on his forehead, after a fashion, through my duct tape gag, with a mix of affection, relief and unbridled passion.
It was great to have my hands and arms back. I wanted to touch him all over. The re-establishment of my tactile sense was powering me up. I wanted to use my renewed sense to the full. I pushed his head over my right shoulder and began to stroke his neck quite firmly with my hands, trying to grab his flesh almost, though it was so tight that I could not. Touching him all over made me want to be touched all over by him, but I couldn’t ask him, of course. I pushed my face into his neck, filling my nostrils with the beautiful natural male fragrances suffused with Boss perfume. I reached my fingers into the top of his shorts at the back, but he pushed them away. I tried the same at the front and almost touched the top of his cock, but he prevented me again grabbing my right wrist firmly.
“No,” he said, in an admonishing tone. “You wait. You do not initiate sexual contact,” he said sternly. “Remember Mr Edrych said that you are to obey me. I lead. You follow. You will find out soon enough what we are going to do together. OK, Mrs Edrych?”
He smiled knowingly. It melted my mind and moistened my pussy. I bowed my head slightly and looked high up to him, nodding with a look of contrition. I loved this. I imagined the conversation that Mike must have had with him, setting out what he wanted, and how much this must have turned them both on in the moment. It was beginning to set the electricity running faster through me again. I wondered what Mike was doing right now.
Dan stepped back slightly then stooped, moved his face in towards my breasts, and suddenly flicked my right nipple with his tongue. A tiny brush of the tongue tip on the very end of the nipple. I couldn’t help myself: I climaxed immediately. It wasn’t the deepest or fullest of orgasms, but it was incredibly sudden. I had had no idea it was about to happen, even though I had been residually aroused, and it took me by surprise, rendering me incapacitated with immediate effect. He had unlocked the lurking passion that I had consciously somewhat forgotten in the unexpected, weird intensity of the last ten minutes. My knees went and he had to hold me up by grasping my torso at the sides, just below my breasts. My arms, so recently re-enabled, just flopped at my sides. My head fell forward.
He was very strong and held me up well. I recovered my balance and strength quickly, though the post-orgasmic sensations were still running through my body and my thoughts were still swirling. I was enjoying his hands gripping my torso, the tops of each hand rubbing idly against the underside of each pendulous breast. The little orgasm I’d had had barely removed any of sexual desires. The fires inside were still burning strong.
I felt so close to him emotionally, physically and sexually. There was this exemplary specimen of human maleness I had known all his life, holding me upright. I knew I was all over the place, and needy through exhaustion, shock and unfulfilled sexual needs. This had to go somewhere fast. I tried to reach my head up to kiss him. It was quite a stretch. He began to bend down to men slowly. Our lips touched lightly on the surface through the duct tape. And just as I was about to press my mouth into his with force, he pulled away, still holding me lightly in the middle. He gave that grin again. I leaked a little more juice from my pussy.
Suddenly he stood up and pulled me up off the bed to stand next to him. Then he grasped me on each side at the waist, lifted me a few inches and spun me round swiftly, swivelling on his heels 360 degrees. It was a childish sensation as the fast-moving air blew my longer hairs and the air draughts cooled my face. My mouth involuntarily moved to giggle but almost no sound came out, of course. Then he turned me round grasped me tight with his arms around my middle, pressed into my tummy, his hands grabbing his own arms at the front, bending me slightly, my lower back pressed against his waist. I felt the stiffness of the cock through his boxers on my bum. He started to swing and spin me again. It was childish: a physical and unrestrained playfulness. I loved it. I waved my legs about and wriggled. I tried to grasp his hair, ears and face with my hands, but I couldn’t hold on to anything for long as he moved his head to evade me, laughing with abandon.
Our childish wrestling carried on for a minute or so. Then he put me down and turned to face me, resting his head on my left shoulder. I breathed in the fullness of his musky, aroma and relished the contact of his young skin on my ageing flesh. He seemed to be taking a short break. But I wanted to continue the game. It was revitalising. I tickled his chest and tummy, but he just smiled thinly, not appearing to be ticklish. I poked my finger into his tummy button and pressed. He gave a brief laugh.
I tried to grab his cock through his shorts. He stopped me and told me not to. We wrestled quite playfully. I tried to pull his boxers down but he restrained me though I got to see the top of his cock inside them. He wrestled me again, told me I was naughty, and held me face down over the bed with some force, one of his big hands gripping my left shoulder and the other pushing my upper body hard into the bed. He released the grip on the shoulder but still held me there. Then suddenly, in quick succession, he spanked me hard, once on each buttock. I hadn’t expected that. The noise made me squeal through my gag. I squirted slightly from my pussy against the duvet. The stinging on my bum added to the intensity of blood flow and sensation around my pussy and arse. I was frozen there face down on the bed, mentally and physically drained. But still with uncontrollable sexual urges and needs that reason could not displace.
Next I heard the familiar sound of light fabric running down thigh and hitting the floor in a heap. I knew he must have slid off his boxers. He told me to get off the bed and kneel in front of him. I felt blessed to be in such a situation: my loving husband controlling me through a fantastic, charming young man who professed to finding me gorgeous and appeared to be on the point of fucking my brains out.
I sat up and turned to look at the now fully naked Dan, now stood in front of me. Indeed, he was fully hairless all over: closely shaved in the pubic area. I observed his impressive cock, adding to what I had already seen. It looked slightly longer than Mike’s, but mercifully thinner than my husband’s considerable girth. But it was hard, and almost vertical, like Mike’s used to be when he first used to fuck me when we were 20 or so. It complemented the impressive athletic hairless beauty of his torso, limbs and face; his exquisite cock brashly but stylishly finishing off this superb specimen perfectly, like the spirit of ecstasy figurine protruding from the front of a shiny new Rolls Royce.
“Kneel down in front of me, Mrs Edrych,” he said. The moment of playfulness appeared to be over, but he was gently authoritative, not aggressive. “Move your face close to my cock,” he instructed. I slid down on to the floor and knelt up. My mouth was an inch from the smooth, swollen fleshy end of his cock. His hairless tight scrotum was dwarfed beneath the slightly leaning tower of penis. I could smell him so intensely. But I was intrigued. Would he rip my tape gag off so I could fellate him? The moment was laden with opportunity. But instead he told me to stroke his balls gently. I did so. I was fascinated by the gently abrasive noise of my fingers on the wrinkly skin and the very short stubbly hair where he had shaved. I could see the pleasure sensations run through him. He began to moan. “Tickle them,” he said. I did so. As with his torso, his balls were not properly ticklish, but it clearly enhanced his sexual feeling. I carried on for a minute or so, enjoying his pleasure, and the sight and smell of his cock and balls right in front of my face.
“Now do the same to my cock, Mrs Edrych,” he asked, his breathing getting faster as he became more aroused. I transferred my fingers up to the very smooth skin of his erect cock. It felt and sounded much less rough.
“That is so good,” he said. “It takes the dexterity of a woman and someone with the knowledge of a cock to do that as well as you,” he said with confidence. “An older woman is the only right person for it.” He was almost purring, as I could feel his cock maintaining its rigidity and upwards angle. It crossed my mind that I wished I’d done this to Mike when he was 24, but I know you can’t go back; and I wouldn’t have known how to at that age, as Dan implied.
Dan seemed contented and sexually excited at the same time. I still needed more orgasms, but the little one of a few minutes ago had relaxed me a bit. I was settled into tickling his cock. He launched into one of his lovely stories that I remembered him always being so good at: “Let me give you some hints as to what we’re going to do shortly. Let me tell you, Mrs Edrych, that I've tried a few different things sexually, with men and with women. I’ve found that I’m quite good at anal. I admit that I have never fucked anyone in the vagina. And I hope I don’t disappoint you when I say I am not going to start now. Not even for my favourite MILFUTA.”
Although I was transfixed in the sexual moment, I was still following what he was saying. I paused my cock stroking for a moment to work out what he had just said. He looked down at my mildly confused face. Then he shouted with a laugh: “Mother I’d Like to Fuck Up The Arse, of course!” I liked being a MILFUTA. I had never really thought of myself as even a MILF, but now I was something even better than that. And one who was about to find out how much I enjoyed the arse bit. The anticipation in my rear end was building. I was nervous, but needy. I was almost looking forward to the pain, not a concept I had previously ever entertained.
Dan continued his story about his sexual preferences as I pondered my anal fate: “I really don’t understand why anyone would want to put their cock in a vagina. I mean I’m not anti-straight people, and I know we need babies, but to me it’s just unattractive. Sure, I am principally attracted to men, but I also enjoy anally fucking women, especially older women. I just prefer the shape of everyone when viewed from behind. The face, the nipples, the breasts and curves, male or female, all distract from the intensity of a good hard fuck. The sensation of my cock rubbing inside a tight tunnel that someone can cramp even tighter around your cock is the best. An anus is an anus, no matter what’s next to it, or above it.”
He was staring down at me, as I looked up at him, with my fingertips continuing to service his cock. He was quite passionate now. Even though this was physical sex, I was enjoying listening to him. Good talking turns me on. Just like Steve always does to me, though suddenly he seemed irrelevant.
He carried on: “It’s so natural, a physical process. It’s just like in rugby. I’m the number 12, the inside centre. I normally get a pass from the number 10, and I look for the principal offload to the number 13. I don’t look at, or think about, the face or personality of the 10 or the 13. It is just a process towards joy and fulfilment on the rugby field through the perfection of the system. An anal fuck is just the same.” He paused, satisfied that he had got me to understand him. I had. I realised that Dan’s particular preference for anal sex seemed to define his sexual identity. He wasn’t just bi with a preference for men, and possibly older women; but he seemed to be, simply, an “analist”.
He smiled in the momentary silence. This was deep self-awareness for such a young man. I worried that I might be too emotionally connected to him now to enjoy the sexual side that was still calling me. But he set things right.
“Sorry for going on a bit, Mrs Edrych,” he said. “At the end of the day, I just love fucking arse, any arse, and I’m very, very good at it. And I’ve dreamt of fucking your arse for years. Let me show you. I have no doubt that you will enjoy it, and cum several times, as Mr Edrych told me to make sure you do.” Wow! What a guy! So wise, self-aware, confident, hot. And right now, mine!
“You can stand up now, Mrs Edrych,” he said. I had now gone from wishing that he would stop calling me that to being turned on by it. Every time he said my formal name, I felt my pussy moisten and drip a little more. It felt so wrong but amazing. Almost perverted and taboo as I was about the same age as his Mum; and he about the same as my son.
I stood myself up, with all those thoughts rushing through my head, waiting further instructions. He moved away for a moment. He manoeuvred the cheval mirror from the corner of the room to the side of the bed opposite so I could see myself in it if I looked.
“Now I need you in the right position,” he said. “I want you to see me in the mirror as I take you from behind.” He pushed me gently down across the bed, my feet still on the floor, bent at the waist, my upper body flat on the bed. I glanced up, with my chin flat on the bed. I could see myself reflected in the mirror. Given how extreme the last two hours had been, I was amazed how reasonable I looked, though my hair was a bit of a mess. My eyes conveyed the unsatisfied urges I could feel. The sight of my own duct tape gag was an additional turn on. And now I could see Dan’s immaculate form moving behind me, also reflected.
He suddenly stooped towards my rear. I could see his actions sufficiently and now feel his different touches on me. The two senses together made it intensity squared. He licked my rim. His tongue tip penetrated slightly into the wrinkly, constricting, virgin abyss. It tickled. It complemented the expectant sensations running through my other sensitive extremities.
He grabbed the tube of lube that Mike had left next to the bed. I watched in the mirror as he squirted a significant load on to the fingers of his left hand. With gentle precision he began to rub it around the inside of my rim with a fingertip, moving ever so slightly deeper in than his tongue had. The coldness elementally counterbalanced the rising heat from the flash of pain that stemmed from skin that had remained untouched by other human flesh for its 46 years of existence. Until that moment.
I watched Dan’s reflection stand up and rub some more lube on to his solid cock. Then he leaned over me and I could feel the tip of his cock begin to slide into me. He told me to relax. I tried. I let him ease into me as he made little in-and-out thrusts, not deep. I was amazed how easy it went in. There was no real pain from the stretching, but that sensation of human skin on untouched human skin intensified as his cock filled more of my tunnel. It was a strangely pleasurable version of burning. I could feel the sensations shoot through to my front, and my clit was throbbing, but touched from the inside, so much more subtle than being touched from the outside.
As his cock burrowed deeper, the intensity of the burning, and the acute attendant pain, rocketed up. As did the intensity of the pleasure of an orgasm exploding from the inside outwards. It was the most wonderful harmony of apparent opposites combining in the best feeling I had ever had. The pleasure and the pain rose together and blended in a phantasmagorical harmonious cacophony of sensations. The power of the unfamiliar, novel sensation of burning and stretching anal pain, layered on top of the very familiar explosive and electric sensation of a great orgasm.
He was now fully deep and there was no more of my untouched arsehole left for him for him to discover. He thrust slow and then gave a forceful push at the deepest point. I wanted to moan and scream but I could not. He increased the power of the final part of each thrust. I could feel his strong young body squashing my lower half hard on to the bed more heavily each time. I watched him with a hugely contented face in the mirror, taking pleasure in his craft.
After not many thrusts, there was nowhere left for my ecstasy to go. I exploded in orgasm with shock waves firing all through my arse, clit and into my adjacent cunt. It was unlike anything I had felt before. The novelty of it almost distracted me from the pure pleasure. I was taken to a place that I couldn’t interpret sensually or emotionally. It was a place where fear had gone, and pleasure had pain had blended. In that precise moment I was dependent for everything on the explosive sensations in my anus; they were life giving and affirming. I wanted to howl with release but the tape across my mouth held firm. Just. My eyes couldn’t seem to close and I found myself staring at the reflection of Dan’s deeply satisfied face as he could tell I climaxed, involuntarily tightening my arse around his cock as I did.
But it seemed to have no effect on his technique. He continued a steady rhythm of deep thrusts, not pulling fully back with each one; almost like the slightly pulled punching impact of a hammer inside me. And then so quickly, as I was just coming off the peak of orgasm, when a wave consumed me from nowhere and I climaxed again. My limbs lost sensation. This time my eyes shut tight and my mouth relaxed. I saw a kaleidoscope of colours shimmering with the pulses of the orgasm. My arse was so burned out that what had been pain a couple of minutes ago now felt like a comfortably numb normal: fire had almost turned into ice. I could just about feel Dan still thrusting, but mostly because of the rhythm through his hands on my upper body and the gentle bouncing motion back up from the bed. And then again, before I had come down from a peak, there was another surge of orgasm. So quickly. And then the same repeated cycle, seemingly even quicker. There were many fast orgasmic cycles in quick succession. I don’t know how many. Or how long this continued. I was barely conscious, lost in the delirium of overlapping sensations and the chemical highs from the dopamine, the oxytocin, the endorphins and everything else of which I am scientifically ignorant but experientially so aware. It felt like there was nothing else in existence, other than me and my sensations for that moment. But the moment might have been as long as five minutes, maybe. I have no idea.
I was transported back to the reality of the situation by a loud animalistic noise and the sensation of a suddenly injected liquid in my arse. I quickly realised where I was and what was happening. Although the noise was barely human, it was Dan’s celebratory roar on ejaculating, and the liquid was the physical product from it propelled deep into me at speed. My brain understood the immediate facts of the reality, but couldn’t make sense of it all.
Suddenly, Dan’s face appeared next to mine and smiled. “That was rather good, wasn’t it?” he said. “Did you like me fucking you up the arse and giving you multiple orgasms?” I nodded and widened my eyes. “You spasmed on to my arse so well. It was amazing,” he said. “Sometimes there are advantages to anally fucking women rather than men,” he asserted. “There’s more for you yet,” he promised.
He rose up and turned me on to my back on the bed. He snuggled in close to me. I could smell his face that was the essence of freshly sweaty maleness tinged with fading Boss perfume. He moved his face down to suck my left nipple. It was a firm hard suck, almost like he was trying to feed from me. I loved it. This erogenous area of me had been underused in the last few minutes and surges of pleasure began to flow quickly from the stimulus. He reached down across me with his left hand and gently strummed his fingers across the folds of my vulva that were hiding my clit in varying rhythms. Almost immediately I shot back up the pleasure scale and climaxed again. It was more classic and familiar, though my brain was still imagining something was in my arse, and the sensations down there had not gone away.
Dan’s sucking of my nipple was extremely powerful, but not violent. He switched to the right one. The sensation of sudden restimulation made me gasp. And the pressure of his sucking was intense and impressive. At the same time, his fingers stopped strumming. Instead, he used two fingers to open me slightly, and with the middle finger started tapping the hood that was still just covering my clit. After a few beats, I exploded into orgasm once more, the change of sensations on my nipples and clit was too much. This latest one was still more classic, and almost like a reassuring comforter after the madness of the anal intensity and what it had produced a few minutes earlier. All the time Dan was making little satisfied humming, moaning noises that complemented the intense sensations of my latest orgasms.
He lifted his mouth from my nipple. “I love holding you like this, Mrs Edrych,” he said sweetly. “I love feeding on your fat, hard nipples. But it’s time for more anal now...”
I couldn’t believe it. It seemed only a few minutes since he had finished his last fuck. I reached down to feel his cock to check. I found an extremely stiff member ready to go. “Grab it,” he said. I did and began to masturbate it enthusiastically. He purred, but after a short, furious wank he pushed me away, got up and turned me on to my front again, facing the mirror. I saw his reflection again, his hard cock pointing up, primed to hammer me again. The room smelled of fresh sex and sweat.
“Relax,” he said. He stooped and pulled my buttocks apart to inspect me. I could feel his cum oozing out. “Great,” he said. “You are still quite dilated. We won’t need any lube this time.” He guided his brilliant phallus into my anus. There was no difficulty in doing so. I could feel the displacement of the mix of existing cum and lube as it probed inwards. I heard the squelching as he began to thrust quite hard and fast, more frantic than last time. I couldn’t feel any pain this time; it was just satisfying. My anal muscles began to ripple and tighten, and I could feel the sensations already rushing up the shaft of my clit and all through me from this central point. I was breathless, worn down, but still in need of yet another orgasm. It was building quickly.
Dan was thrusting with great skill, speed and depth. His hands pressing hard on my shoulders. I wanted to scream with a mixture of ecstasy and tiredness, but I still had no mouth.
“Cum for me again, Mrs Edrych,” he said. “At least one more time before I do. And we can show Mr Edrych as you do!”
What?! Did he mean Mike was about to come back to the house? He had gone from my mind since the anal fucking began. I know Mike had enabled this encounter with Dan, but I hadn’t expected him in the bedroom now. I wasn’t sure I could take another unexpected diversion.
Then Dan removed his left hand from my shoulder. In a few seconds I heard the familiar sound of a smartphone making a video call. Then I heard Mike’s breathy voice answer, and the sounds of rushed, broken breathing and of flesh on flesh that only come with sex. Dan handed me his smartphone. “Hold it so we can both see the screen,” he said.
I did. There, on the little phone screen that Dan had given me to hold right in front of me, Mike was again fucking Kate from behind. Just as he had done in this room about an hour or so earlier. I could see his face clearly. She was still hooded, but very close to the camera. I couldn’t tell if he was up her arse or her cunt. I didn’t care. He was loud and sweaty and apparently about to cum from the noises he was making and the expression on her face. I was glancing between my husband fucking his girlfriend on the screen and the reflection of a hot young bi man fucking my arse. In an evening of the totally unexpected here was the latest twist. I was past being shocked. It added to my excitement. I was close to orgasm yet again.
Mike shouted between pants for more air: “Go, Dan! Keep fucking her arse... Like I fuck Kate’s!... Nearly done!”
“Thanks, Mr Edrych. It’s an honour to fuck your wife in the arse!” Dan shouted back, somewhat breathlessly as he grasped my shoulders even tighter.
My latest climax surged through me. I had no idea how many I had had, nor for how long. They now seemed to form a persistent ecstatic cycle with just short dips between the full climaxes. I was past being able to describe everything anymore, or to tell where one orgasm finished and the next started. My arse had been assaulted and my nerves were overloaded. If I’d had a fuse box, the master switch would have tripped off a while ago. I didn’t think I could keep going much longer.
I glanced up as I heard Mike’s familiar ejaculation cry down the phone as he grimaced on the little screen while pounding into Kate. She was panting so loud too, probably nursing the remnants of an orgasm from before the video call. I had never heard such a cacophony from a smartphone speaker.
Meanwhile young Dan was keeping his end up. I could feel his cock swelling and his breathing intensifying. He was about to ejaculate into my arse again. For a second time in what felt like only ten minutes or so! The power of youth! But maybe I was wrong. I had lost sight of the clock. My sense of time, and of everything else, was altered.
Bringing me back to the intensity and reality of the moment, I felt his load shoot into me once again, as another of my orgasmic waves engulfed me at the same time as his moment of climax. I could still see Mike and Kate watching us as they separated from their latest fuck. Dan roared again like a large dog as he filled me with a second ejaculation to add to what was already in me.
“Well done, young man!” roared Mike out of the phone speaker as his face concentrated on Dan and me, his own ejaculatory triumph now complete as he and Kate sat with their arms round each other, she still hooded. “See you soon, Jane!” Mike shouted and cut the call.
I’d had no idea that people did this kind of thing, let alone in my little world. I was so steamrollered that I couldn’t have spoken even without a tape gag. I tried to smile, but it didn’t come out right. From what I could discern of my expression in the mirror, it probably just looked like a pain reaction from having been hot skewered up the arse. And sure, there was real pain. But it felt so good. Because the pleasure right next to it in my mind was like nothing I had ever known before. I realised that this was why people did wild sex: to lawfully get these sensations that vanilla sex couldn’t take you anywhere near.
"Fucking you up the arse is the best female shag I’ve ever had, Mrs Edrych,” Dan said sweetly. “The best two shags even.” I managed a thin smile. He could tell I was emptied of everything, mentally and physically.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll clean you up.” He stood me up. He supported me as I walked the short distance to the en suite shower room, totally exhausted. He sat me down on the shower floor, soaped a sponge with warm water, and gently applied it to my tape gag. “Let’s get this off, Mrs Edrych,” he said. I nodded softly. With a bit of effort, he loosened the adhesive and was able to pull it off without much difficulty or pain.
Wow! I could talk again. I opened my lips to thank him, but almost no sound came out. I was so knackered by everything. I tried again. There was a “thank you”, just about audible. “You’re very welcome, Mrs Edrych,” he replied.
He stood me in the shower, came in with me, and washed me down quickly. He sprayed water into my arsehole and soaped it to get most of the cum and lube out. I knew this wasn’t sexual any longer, but it still aroused me slightly. I could see he was already fairly hard again, but neither of us felt the need to engage with this latest erection. I had nothing left to give, and he could tell. Neither of us tried to talk. This was a moment of calm to end the evening. He led me out of the shower, towelled me down, put me in a robe, lay me down in the bed and pulled the covers over me. He leaned down to kiss me goodnight.
“Thanks for making my dreams come true, Mrs Edrych,” he said. “I have had the greatest time. You are a sexy and gorgeous woman: my favourite MILFUTA.”
I managed to get a few words out with some physical and mental effort: “Thank you, Dan. You are a beautiful and special human being. You blew my mind. Please come again soon. I want more. Goodnight, sweet boy.”
"I hope so, Mrs Edrych,” he replied. “Let’s see what Mr Edrych says.”
I liked the reminder of my husband, who was still my man, my guide, my sexual enabler who had gifted me this adonis. Dan waved goodbye, turned and left the room. I heard him go down the stairs and, a couple of minutes later the front door open and close. I fell asleep with the reassuring thought that there would be more excitement to come another day, and that although I didn’t know when, how what it would all be, I would have Mike there to choose the best for me and to pleasure me in innovative ways, whether directly or indirectly.
I realised the next day that I would never feel quite like this again, as my arse could never now feel exactly the same: it could only once be penetrated for the first time. Now it had happened. I am writing this down, and telling it to you, while the incredible details are still fresh in my mind, to preserve that memory of a once in a lifetime moment.
And right now, a week later, I have reflected a little more. I can see that it’s probably the beauty of unexpected outcomes that keeps us alive and stimulated. That there is no reward without risk; and that playing safe can amount to self-denial. But I had reached this conclusion unexpectedly over the last week. It had turned much of my moral framework upside down over the last week because of that Friday night. I had also come to realise that things are often less improbable than you might have anticipated. Overall, I had been discombobulated by the consensual control effected by my own husband that many would consider disgusting and depraved. My head was processing it all and I hadn’t yet resolved any of it fully. But I knew I wanted to go further down this path of wild sexual abandon, led by Mike, and meeting whomsoever he chose to join me on it.
I hope to share those further adventures with you.
