Many thanks to my fiancée, Ines, for her help with this concluding chapter.
Have you ever found yourself in a conversation where every answer was yes?
Amy glowed with exertion and submitted to more questions. At the envelope of her limits, and tempted to reveal every sexual more. When you know each answer creates reality – never is more truth spoken.
For a patient man, my husband had his limits too, the time, the place – both agreed. The notion as a potent force, the act itself would be explosive.
From precocious curiosity, to novice, Amy was my Sapphic lover. These months imbued her with confidence, submissive when needed, direct when permitted. No longer the shrinking wallflower, a single look created a dialogue of many words.
Straddled over her face, our unbroken stare fed the pleasure. With devotion, her diligence rewarded me. Attuned to my needs, newfound inventiveness added variations and appreciative flourishes. Upturned eyes sought validation, long purring moans gave it. Her delicate touch loitered over my breasts and hardened nipples.
The leash and instinct steered her wanton mouth. Pressing her tongue into my folds, unexpected, the voice inside relented. Pressure melted into bliss, unable to subdue myself, it emboldened her effort.
Lapping, flicking, long restrained sensations surged forwards. The surly need for control slipped away. The leash discarded, automatic words implored her. The compulsion to reach behind and rub her cunt overwhelmed me. The shudders built to a summit of elation. Sobbing for air, the tight-coiled tension unwound.
Shaking uncontrollably, it exploded as a long exultant wail. Eyes squeezed shut and in the void, fireworks exploded within. Amy wanted this and the realisation that vented in the delicious moment.
The world snapped into focus and looking down, our eyes met. Amy tended my throbbing sex.
The breakbeat caught up with the demanding bass, we rode the rhythm together. Her stare carried that terrible burden I understood well. There is glamour, there is provocation, and we skirted the fine line between the two. What we wore was sheer and scandalous. In the ultraviolet light, our bodies shone through its fabric. Straddling my thigh, Amy writhed on it, grinding to debauch herself for their pleasure.
In those eyes, a knowledge impossible to hide, men, and women noticed it. There was a time she could not maintain eye contact; now, they backed down first.
The poise, the attire, make-up, a creature whose looks could enthuse, a single stare could hold a person rapt. Collared on a leash dispensed her alternate persona: a plaything for my vices.
Not tonight, her expression carried a different message: possession. Amenable all night, only at first did I need to console her nerves. Now amidst the tantalising flesh, Amy submitted to her unrequited passions.
Swirling lights reflected off the chrome, holding it, her behind thrust out. The fingertip caress of satin between her thighs found a damp warmth. I found the subtle bump pressed tight to the fabric, the sensations whitened her knuckles on the pole.
People would see and that was the point. In this lascivious den of vice, these people had many names: libertines, hedonists – swingers. Couples seeking to watch, participate, and for us, to enrage.
Releasing the pole, a whip of her hair flailed, Amy placed her hands on my shoulders. Those lips simpered; mine curled, and the distance narrowed. A graze of our lips, cloying and fully painted, smeared on each other’s. The tip of her tongue tempted – not yet.
Fingers interlaced, a tender squeeze gave a simple message. Led from the intimate dancefloor, I pretended not to notice their glances. Amy could not and she giggled as we headed towards the main corridor.
It snaked through the building, lit in dimmed scarlet. We found shadows and silhouettes in the adjoining rooms. A subtle jerk of my arm and Amy stopped: journey’s end.
Now, she would see it.
Resting, she cut a three-quarters profile. A sleek continuous curve from those broad shoulders to her delicious rump. Dewy with perspiration, fingers traced over her flawless skin, down her athletic flanks to slender ankles.
Licking her essence from my lips, I wanted the uncertainty to taunt her. Retrieved from a chest of draws, fixed with a resolute stare, she fidgeted on the bed. Stepping into the straps, the buckles adjusted for comfort. It stood up from my body in hot gloss red. Tapered at first, it matched my husband’s penis in girth and length.
Taking her leash, I caught her gasp of delight, “Kneel.”
Towering over her, giddy on the sense of power, Amy looked up. Hands on knees, her expression of deference, hot desire squirmed in the pit of my stomach.
“You saw how she did it. Suck it, show me what you remembered.”
It was a generous implement for such a delicate nymph. Gingerly, she managed to take half of it. Coated with saliva, her fluid grasp twisted, mouth and tongue in a symphony of generosity.
Impressed with her technique, I wondered how much cock she had pleasured.
“You have done this before… continue.”
Those amenable wide eyes gave their answer. Pushing more of its girth into her mouth, she redoubled her efforts. A muffled plea signalled her limit; I admired her spirit.
Slick with saliva, Amy wiped her mouth. Panting for air, it was a bravura performance.
“Very good, I do not need to ask if you enjoyed that.”
Led by her leash; she laid on her back. Knelt before her, a seized leg pulled her tight to my body. Taunting her, I rubbed the head over her candy-pink slit. Each time, she braced to receive it.
Distracted by plucking her nipples, it penetrated her. Amy flinched and stared back open mouthed. Amused, the slow tempo extracted her gasps, a merciful concession to her tight cunt. Labial lips snug around its girth, coated in shiny juices.
The suggestion of my husband’s erect penis in her mouth animated her. As the scene that unfolded at the club. She watched then as I pawed her body. Two men had a woman, one at each end, slow and languid in pace. As an act, a delicious prospect, as witnesses, I taunted Amy. Patiently, it descended into licentious passion. The clatter of their bodies rose, my embrace of her body held how she squirmed.
Cleaving her torrid sex, she capitulated to the sensual caress of her clit. Watching them, she writhed on those fingers, never enough to gratify her. Two fat cocks took each hole, the woman absent from this torrid act watched us.
Approaching, we both knew what would happen; Amy did not. A simple question deserved a simple answer. Knelt between Amy’s legs, a stranger eased her satin panties aside, and gave her what she needed. It rose quickly; the woman was in no mood for finesse. Shaking, Amy’s hands clasped at the back of my legs, her moans distracted nobody. Orgasmic cries mixed with a distant bassline and ecstatic cries of carnal pleasure.
Now, she took it on all fours, just like that woman last week. It looked so tempting, that scrunched pink knot. Teasing it with my finger, I fucked her harder. Amy moaned for more. Captured in the full-length mirror, I revelled in the look on her face. A mix of wanton abandon and shock, first clatter of her body extracted an urgent yelp.
Mumbling, Amy shuddered, “It’s… so big…”
Violating her anus with my thumb, Amy pitched up with a sudden intake of air. More louche thrusts placated her.
“My husband will enjoy fucking you like this… in both your holes. Have you ever done that Amy?”
“No… never,” and its imagery brought a new fluidity to her movements, “oh… fuck…”
“You will, and learn to enjoy it.”
Tension on the leash gave its instruction. The collision of our bodies matched the faster tempo. She writhed as a captured eel.
“Maybe, we should double penetrate you. Like the woman at the club.”
Groaning loudly, she quivered as if struck by lightning. The quick flash of her animated hips positioned her body for more. Arms thrown out, fingers outstretched and toes curled.
“Yes… do it… show me your orgasm.”
It telegraphed its tremors through us both. A croak for air, she shook, the sinews in her neck tight. The spasms grew until she thrashed. Without compunction, I fucked her through her orgasm. Struggling against my grasp, she flailed like a fish out of water.
“Fuck…” repeated as it trailed off to a whimper.
Withdrawn, her glossy sex soaked with the juices of her climax. So young, yet abandoned enough to unleash the full tumult of an intense climax. I envied her.
A languid caress soothed her body. Her gratitude whispered as I loosened its straps. Held in my grasp, the chromed plug shone in the light. She tensed, the cold metal pressed to her tightest hole. Slickened to accept it, she yelped as the ring of muscle yielded.
“There, you will wear this tonight. Now, do it again, Amy. Make yourself cum.”
Retiring to a pedestal, naked before her, Amy devoured the spectacle.
“Hurry up before I change my mind.”
Opening her legs, demented fingers pillaged her sex. Obviously, a well-practised act, and it escalated rapidly. Unashamed, she sought freedom from this severe state of arousal. The sloshing noise returned; warbling moans stiffened into urgent cries. The stick noises rose on the pace of those furious fingers. Shaking through her legs, it pulled her body taut.
“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!!”
The crescendo loosened her arched back in crashing waves of noise and spasms. Stuttering muscles flexed with rolling hard spasms. Stirring her sex, Amy wrung out the last aftershocks of pleasure.
Curled in a foetal position, hurried breaths punctured the still air. Sudden aftershocks, rattled through her listless body.
Lying on the bed, I took her into my arms. Her arm draped over my body, a soothing hand stroked her hair.
“You did very well,” purred as a reward.
She nodded, “Tell me what to do and I will do it.”
“A perfect answer, you can eat my cunt now.”
It was impossible not to like Amy. It took all this time to peel back the layers of timidity and angst. We found our cadence, trysts to explore those intimate desires. Lust simmered under the surface as we shared reflections on life, our hopes, and ambitions.
Summer yielded to autumn, soon, dark nights and the fog of hot breath on cold air would come. Admiring her, she was the best she wanted to be. Confident, a hint of wild mixed with the demure. Her natural smile radiated from her eyes, not a forced grin to hide an inner discomfort.
Perched on a stool, the portents of what was to come interrupted. She wrestled with the sensation, she always did. A hesitant look revealed her thoughts. It was a precious gift, one given readily, and I took it infrequently. Reduced to a gibbering wreck, she convulsed on our marital bed. The slender toy in her cunt, fucked in the arse by the girthy red cock.
That was our dynamic, tonight in a distant bar, we chatted. A couple of days ago, she trembled in disassembled lingerie lost in euphoria. In the bar, now, her fidgeting was not a simple adjustment, Amy rocked slowly back and forth.
“It makes you wet thinking about it, doesn’t it?”
A rare bitten lip gave her answer.
Sliding her jacket off her shoulders, she watched with helpless eyes. Draped over her lap, mellifluous chatter and laughter around us, I prized open her thighs. The jacket provided a screen, the wall, the other. Oblivious to my designs, I learned this lesson once: the bystander effect. Even if people noticed, they would do nothing.
Yet, Amy did not know that. My subtle caress transitioned from lace stocking tops to silken inner-thigh. She never relinquished that vulnerable stare. Weighted eyelids narrowed with the faintest touch of her naked sex. Suppressing her gasp, she jolted with its electricity.
“It would not take a lot for me to make you cum, would it?”
Shaking her head, never did the look of need and fear look so intoxicating. Answering the question, she rocked on the jewelled plug. The rising heat on her cheeks, embarrassment, or arousal, it did not matter.
The viscous syrup of her juices made penetration so easy. Open-mouthed, perhaps she thought I would never do it, not here. Impaled on my finger and no to-and-fro movement, Amy had to do that herself.
She did, imperceptibly, as a hostage to lust. Not enough to get off on it, she hovered between sating the ache and being circumspect. Her dilemma churned my insides with a torrid heat. Scrutinising her expression, glimpses of pleasure revealed themselves from the casual nonchalance.
“What would you do to orgasm right now, Amy?”
I tutted, “That’s a very dangerous thing to say to me.”
She whimpered, “Anything.”
Withdrawing my hand, she murmured and sighed with frustration. Taking my phone, the number selected, I handed it to her.
“Ask him what he wants to do to you. There is your anything.”
Carefully, the latch on the front door closed with a satisfying click. Her diffident gaze sought reassurance.
Her back to me, her hair swept aside, a tilt of her head revealed the teardrop zipper. It descended and she stepped out of her dress. Naked except for her legs adorned in black sheer silk and the flawless polish of her black high heels. Primping her hair, I took out my lipstick and refreshed hers.
Amy knew this was the epilogue of our story. The final addition: the pearl choker replaced with her leather collar. On the snap of the catch, she quivered.
Turning, she unfastened my dress too. Stepping out of it, she presented her leash to hold. Seamless against my hewn body, my favourite black lingerie, ready for her initiation. Led into our living room, the shiny steel chain held aloft with our prize in tow.
My husband sat in his steel-framed Eames chair. His urbane features, we exchanged a single look for a moment only we understood.
For Amy, it was there: a twinkle in her eyes and faint pursed lip smile.
He stood; she took her first command – undress him.
The latent strength of his muscular frame presented for appraisal. My lover, soulmate, and best friend, naked with the silent confidence I adored.
“Kneel, Amy, pleasure him.”
She held his erect penis; soft kisses afforded it the respect it deserved. With long slow strokes, she stared up with pleading eyes. Filled with blood, the thick chord of his erection curved upwards. His balls, chunky, and tight, brimmed by days of abstinence.
The leash reminded Amy of her place; my hand on the back of her head removed any doubt. With swirls from her wrist, her mouth nurtured his arousal. His gruff moan punctured the expectant air. Admiring her skill, the meandering veins bulged, foreskin drawn back. Looking to me for approval, I returned an amused grin.
“Very good, Amy. Now, stand up.”
She left a scarlet tidemark around his shaft.
Led to the bolstered arm of the leather sofa, she removed her drenched satin panties and handed them to me.
“Open your mouth,” and she accepted the satin gag.
Placing a knee on its arm, she braced herself. Fastened to the floor by a solitary high-heel, leg taut, and calve tightened. Manipulated for the best view, the small of her back curled and presented her peachy behind. Arousal sparkled from the smooth pillow of her sex. The blood-red jewel nestled in her tightest hole.
Her first ordeal of the evening concluded, Amy flinched when I removed it. A merciful lubricant pressed into her anus and cuffs clicked around her wrists.
Both hands opened the cleft of her behind. The gaped knot of her anus revealed. Lust burned in my husband’s eyes and we exchanged another knowing look.
“Amy, do you want him to be your first there?”
Using her own juices on its corpulent head, he teased her. He pressed, cried wolf, and baited her again. Sat before her, Amy never looked more helpless. He pressed, no more cry wolf, and took her. Holding the leash, her eyes narrowed with a stifled yelp.
A week of abstinence was six days too long for my husband. He took her with skilful reverence, symbolic of this act – a desecration. An unsullied orifice gifted to her new master, a performance of ownership.
He eased into a languid to-and-fro; her acceptance inspired his rising masculine force. Her muffled cries transferred a fluttering heat into my loins. Her defiance on show for us, Amy pushed back to meet his thrusts. Silently, Amy conspired with me to relieve him. To aid her broken breathing, I removed her gag.
Standing, I took the sensual caress of his lips to mine. Already struggling, he would never endure. The definition of his muscular frame strained and relaxed. Several thrusts followed, on cue, Amy whimpered for more.
“Tell him, where do you want his gift?”
“Please, come inside me.”
His groan, a signal of excitement, he drove into her with purpose. My enticing massage encouraged his over-filled balls.
Purring in his ear, “Do it darling, I want you to cum for me too.”
His perineal muscles tightened. Amy yelped as the girth of his penis swelled towards climax. He lunged in desperation. Muscles bound tight, and these thrusts slapped against her behind.
His fate sealed, Amy she pushed and pulled to milk him. Watching the fat girth twitch, my caress of his balls aided his relief.
He staggered a little with a relieved grin on his suave features.
“Enjoy that, darling?”
A heartfelt kiss from lips was its own reward, “Very much.”
“She is quite the accomplished little slut, isn’t she?”
“You’ve done very well with her, definitely worth the wait.”
Freed from her restraints, the act completed with words of gratitude for her master. Our compact sealed with an appreciative kiss for us both.
We pampered him, and washed him in the bath. He recuperated as Amy massaged his knotted muscles relieved from the strains of life. Lying together, leash in hand, she aroused us with her consummate touch and dutiful mouth.
Tied, spread-eagled to the bed, it was the best view in the house. He took me from behind, Amy beneath us. Her tongue lashed my clit or sucked her Master’s erection. Our years together spiced with the zest of this new adventure. He knew how to extract the maximum pleasure from me – they both did. I bucked, shuddered, and succumbed to their combined efforts. Devouring her sex enthused Amy’s efforts. He wore me down until its toll caught up with his endurance.
Her mouth waited for his seed. As he groaned, we watched as her eager gulps swallowed it down.
Not nearly sated, he rested, for a Sapphic performance to inspire him for more.
My aloof dominance encouraged her submissive limits. A carefree soixante-neuf unfolded, patient, and intimate. Rising above her, my sex pressed to hers, we writhed, clutched together. Losing ourselves in the moment, we bucked and twisted as experienced lovers. Kissing her neck, she clung to my embrace. Leashed under my control, her obedience interspersed with fractured yelps. Her endeavours gifted me a profound orgasm.
He joined us; we took her and schooled her. In a tangle of limbs and positions, every contortion, every act added to her lexicon of sexual experience. They writhed as swallows danced, bliss-etched on her features, impaled on his shaft. Between us, we shared his ardour. Our torturous caress, our expectations whispered to embellish her experience. Every ascent into ecstasy, we kept her there until she begged and we relented. We shook the tree, and as the blossom petals fell, we experienced the beauty of her climax.
In a lotus position, trapped between us, she clung tight to his bulk. She needed to move with the spring of her thighs. A waif compared to our combined strength. Impaled on the red cock in her arse, her sex filled with my husband’s shaft. An ordeal of athletic endurance, hesitant at first, pleasure triumphed and she lunged for them both. There was no bargaining now; her own freewill ran its course. She howled; mired in perspiration, lank-haired, and clung to him. Taking what she needed, unable to shake it free; I pawed her breasts, nipples, and her clit.
Rasping for air, Amy cried aloud, and pleaded for help. Brow beaded with sweat, his muscles swollen with its effort, he held her resolute. Fighting against our embrace, we existed at the edge of exhaustion.
“Tell him, Amy.”
“It’s yours,” she hissed, “fill me up, you own me.”
Lunging to take it, she flailed between us with no finesse, just craven need. Our gaze met in these final moments. The caress of our lips, it sealed our understanding. Her deep shudders rose as a rumbling of a great storm. Impaled on his penis, outstretched shovel hands held her tight.
Flailing, a banshee thrashed against our bodies. This was the moment she begged for, the most intimate desire she possessed. A torrid outpouring, physical and emotional, she sobbed for air amidst the tumultuous cries. Convulsing on us both, the energy of her orgasm coaxed it from him.
Thrusting upwards, he boomed with an animal roar. Nailed into her, Amy took it, his first ejaculation into her nubile cunt.
In the calm, we lay together, tired limbs intertwined in a bond of intimacy. Arranging her hair, damp with sweat, I kissed her lips. Amy wore his sweat and cologne, the musk of sex heavy in the air. Gifted with his seed in all her holes, each of us sated, we had what we craved.
“I do not need to ask, I would like to hear it.”
Heavy-weighted eyes blinked, those full lips smiled wearily, “It was magical.”
“It was for us too.”
A low grunt of approval completed our agreement, “Yes, it was.”
That night, and every experience since, she slept between us: it always ended like that.
Amy arrived on our doorstep with her life in two suitcases and a large cardboard box.
We installed her in our guest bedroom.
This was her fantasy.
Copyright © © 2021 by The Travelling Man. All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of The Travelling Man.