John Friday - Cuffed and whipped wife

"Sometimes I wish another man would fuck me. That would serve him right! I wouldn't mind so much getting my ass whipped if I really deserved it."

"Oh, hey… don't talk like that, Lanore. And – ungh – don't keep rubbing your tits across my chest."

"Why not, Al? Don't you like the feel of them?"

"I like it too much, that's the trouble."

"Mine are much bigger than your wife Marilee's," she purred.

"Yeah they are." He tried to pull away, but Lanore pressed against him again, rocking her shoulders and pumping her hips.

"I can feel your cock getting hard," she said in a breathy voice. "Is it bigger than Gill's?"

"Agh, I don't know. Men don't usually talk about such things."

"Men don't usually handcuff their innocent wives either. Why don't you take your dick out? I'll tell you which one is bigger."

"Lanore, I don't want, to do that. Gill and I have been friends ever since you moved in."

"Yes, but now that you know all he does to give his wife some real pleasure?"

"I would, yes – but, oh what the hell!" Al stripped off his shorts and a fully hard ten inch cock leaped out.

"Oh, that is a big one!" Lanore gasped delightedly. She whirled around and grabbed his prick with hands cuffed behind her back. She stroked fondly, teasing with delicate finger strokes. "I want you to fuck me, Al. Then I won't mind when I get whipped tonight. I'll think about your beautiful big hot prick in me and I'll laugh no matter how much it hurts."

"All right, come on!" He turned her toward the hall and they went to the bedroom together. "You'd better lie on your stomach," Al said. "That way there won't be so much strain on your arms."

"Yes, I like it that way. Put the pillows under my hips, Al. That puts my pussy at just the right angle. My panties are crotch-less, so you don't even have to bother taking them off."

"No, but I want you out of that bra. I want to feel those gorgeous big tits of yours. I've wanted to feel them since the first day I saw you."

"Have you really?" Lanore purred as be unclasped her bra. "I didn't think you'd even noticed."

"With the low cut blouses and skimpy little halter tops you wear so often… my God!" He dug his hands beneath her and cupped her two creamy big tits.

"Aaahhh," she sighed anxiously. "You don't have to spend a lot of time getting me hot. I want you now! Put your cock in, Al. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

He aimed his cock in from the rear and nudged her tender cunt. She arched and squirmed her hips to feel morel.

She said with a moan, "God, Marilee would shit if she knew what we're doing!"

"We'll never tell anyone. It will be our secret. You can come over and fuck me whenever Gill is at work. He usually leaves me handcuffed like this. I'll be your slave."

"A damn willing little slave," he remarked, easing his cock in.

"Yes, Gill never has satisfied me. He has trouble getting his dick up. It's been months since he was able to fuck me. I think that's why he's so mean and insanely jealous."

"Could be." Al felt the tight contractions of her anxious pussy and almost came before getting his cock all, the way in.

He gave a fierce grunt and fucked his cock to the hilt. Lanore screamed a shrill cry and reamed herself back to the root of his prick.

"And it's so thick that it strains my cunt!"

"Your cunt seems to love it," he said.

"Aaagh, yes! Oh, God yes!" Lanore was bucking, not content with just the force of his fucking thrusts. She arched and twisted backwards to meet each one, babbling sounds of lewd pleasure and not caring a bit about the pressure of her cuffed wrists.

The stinging sharp jolts of pleasure shot deep, made her spine rock. Searing heat made her pussy clench and pull on his hot prick. Lanore's head bobbed and swayed, stirring her long waves of golden hair.

Al fucked her hard. After that initial urge to let his cock fire, he managed to regain his usual control. He was a man who liked to fuck a good long time before letting go. He liked to leave a woman weak and gasping, unable to take anymore.

It worked that way with his wife Marilee and the several other women with whom he'd shared the pleasure of a fleeting fuck. Al Freeman fancied himself to be an expert cocksman, and not without good reason.

She came to three screaming climaxes, one right after the other. Her ripe body thrashed and bucked. Her pussy clenched in insane spasms. She milked and sucked his hot prick with her clever cunt and finally got his cock to fire.

The timing was perfect. Her fourth and best climax yet was just starting. Jets of fiery turn increased her pleasure. Her lush body was bounding up and down. Her golden hair was a swirl, and her pussy was a tight vise of volcanically hot flesh.

A full minute passed in wild rapture before she could drain him completely. And then it was Al who lay weak and gasping, his full weight pressing down on her cuffed wrists.

Lanore could feel his cock starting to go soft in the snug wet tunnel of her cunt.

"Let's do it again," she cooed. "Gill won't be home for hours yet."

"Uh, no… I can't. If I'm gone too long, Marilee will wonder where I've been."

"We've got time for one more round," she pleaded.

"I'd sure like to, Lanore. But if I stay too long and she gets suspicious, I'll never be able to come back."

"Oh, that wouldn't be good. I do want to fuck you again, Al. Anytime we can. Every time we can!"

"You can count on it," he said, reluctantly easing his cock out. "I just hope Gill doesn't beat you too much when he gets home." He shook his head. "That son of a bitch. I'd have never dreamed he was like that!"

Lanore was grinning smuggly, not a bit worried, only thinking of her illicit pleasure and new thrills to come. She had no reason to fear Gill – he'd never so much as slapped her face, not even in the heat of an unusual argument.

But when Al had left and the delightful aftershocks of her last climax had faded, Lanore suddenly had cause to worry. She couldn't find the handcuff key!

Lanore searched everywhere, pulling open all the leather pouches on Gill's duty belt and shaking them upside down on the bed behind her. No key appeared.

Damp stains of cum blotched her panties and more silvery cream was running down the inner slopes of her thighs. She couldn't use her hands to wipe it off. How could she possibly explain to Gill when he got home?

Only one thought came to mind… to say it was rape.

Lanore's fevered mind began to weave another web of lies. She couldn't blame Al, of course. She couldn't blame anyone that might be falsely accused. A masked man, she decided. A hulking stranger had done this to her. A man with a huge hot prick had ravaged her all the time Gill was gone.

That was the story she told her shocked, ashen-faced husband when he returned. He produced a handcuff key from a small pocket hidden on the inside of the belt itself. Lanore blushed and felt like a fool, but at least now she knew where it was kept.

"I don't know how he broke in," she moaned, playing it for all it was worth.

"He didn't break in. The spare key was in the lock when I got home. Somehow be found it taped under the mailbox. And that's going to fry his ass!"

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean there must be fingerprints on that key. I've got a good friend down at police headquarters who can tell me who it was."

Lanore shuddered. She hadn't thought about that. Then she saw a glimmer of hope. "If the man isn't a known criminal, they won't have his fingerprints on file."

"They might. Every guy who's ever been in the service was printed. I had to be to get my job."

"Al?"

"Yeah, the company he works for just got a big defense contract. He was fingerprinted to get security clearance. All those records are in a big computer. I should known by tomorrow afternoon who did this to you."