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Mad About You: Part 5 (MF, bond)
by Frost

He pulled her up onto her knees, and she groaned and shook her head weakly.

"Jesus, Jesus," she whispered.

"How's that pussy of yours feeling, baby?" he growled, sliding his hands
through her hair. He dropped to his own knees in front of her, and ran his
hands over her tight, taut breasts, marvelling at the sensation. His hands
stroked over the soft orbs, then his fingers pinched and pulled at her stiff,
hard nipples.

He stood up, still holding onto her hair, gazing down at her with a feeling
of ultimate satisfaction.

He tugged on her hair, unsure still, of how far he could go, pulling it up,
forcing her to rise, even though he knew it hurt her, maybe because he knew
it hurt. She gasped and yelped in pain, but rose, straightening somewhat. He
held her hair in one hand and rubbed his cock over her face.

"All right, Jamie, here's a nice hard cock for you," he breathed. "Suck it
off, baby. Suck it off like a real slut."

Since she had first felt the tightness of the ropes around her wrists Jamie's
mind had been enveloped in a sexual fog. Her entire world had been reduced
to the sexual pleasures being inflicted on her body. The more rope he had
wrapped around her the more excited she had become.

The pressure of the rope against her pussy, against her clitoris, had only
increased the force of that sexual passion. She was almost unable to control
her body. In fact, it was more like her body was controlling her.

The heat in her groin was powerful, irresistible, it throbbed and glowed and
tore at her mind, demanding attention, demanding sex, demanding penetration,
yearning for a touch, for pressure, for anything.

Her breasts pulsed with heat, radiating it. They were glistening damply as
she sweated, hard and throbbing, centered by two burning hot embers that had
once been her nipples, now so sensitive that the very air moving across them
made her gasp in pleasure.

And now there was the vibrator up inside her, the tightness and heaviness in
her belly, the hardness being gripped by her pussy flesh, the weight of it,
and of course, the frantic buzzing and vibrations that was making her jerk
her hips from side to side.

Every time she moved her ass she strained against the ropes between her pussy
lips, making them dig up into her soft meat, making them press harder against
the base of the vibrator, forcing it up harder against her cervix.

And now she was on her knees, and Paul was rubbing his cock over her sweating
face, an outrage that would have ended their love making not that long ago.
Now all it did was turn the roaring heat up higher, for she was a sex toy,
and loved it, gloried in it.

He gripped her damp hair and jerked her face against him, and she cried out,
but the pain was nothing to the pleasure, and she opened her mouth wide to
take his cock, panting for breath before he shoved it in.

She sucked hungrily, bobbing her lips up and down as he roughly ran his
fingers through. He started to pump his cock in her mouth, thus violating
another old rule of hers, that he stay absolutely still when she had his
cock in her mouth.

Now he actually held her head in his hands, squeezing down on it from either
side, as he fucked his cock back and forth through her lips. Jamie could
hardly believe it, and the raw carnal nature of the act set her off again.

She humped and ground her hips violently, shaking and moaning and suckling
desperately at his cock as she came. Her pussy bit and chewed on the hardened
plastic buzzing away inside her. When Paul took one hand off her hair and ran
it down to her chest and squeezed her hard breast she screamed.

Screamed.

The sound was not that loud, for it was muffled by the big cock in her mouth,
but for the first time in her life she screamed in pleasure, screamed as the
burning, crackling sexual heat slashed across her mind and body, tearing the
world apart.

Her mind was dazed by the overload of sexual pleasure. She couldn't think
straight. And didn't care about anything anyway.

Anything but pleasure.

Anything but the glowing fireball inside her.

Anything but the glorious sexual steam boiling her body from the insides out.

It wasn't until several sharp sensations managed to stab through the haze and
fog that she realized she had stopped sucking on Paul's cock, and that he was
slapping her face lightly to get her attention.

Not that lightly. It hurt. She started sucking again, working her mouth up
and down his cock. She was drooling, but didn't care. She sucked and slurped
and licked against his cock as he once again began to pump it in and out of
her face.

"Yeah. Suck that! Suck my cock, slut! Slutty little whore!"

The words stabbed through the fog too, but she loved them, loved the way they
made her feel.

Slut, she thought. Whore. Sex-toy. Little slutty boy-toy.

"Suck my cock, slut."

He fucked harder, and then, even as she began to hump her ass again, began to
whine at the tingling and gnawing of the vibrator inside her, the rasping of
the now sopping wet ropes against her tender pussy flesh, just as she began
to feel, with shocked delight, the approach of another orgasm, he thrust
especially hard, and his cock somehow slid right down her throat.

Her mind was too blasted by sexual heat to react at first. All she could do
was struggle with the discomfort and the nausea, to try to understand what
had happened. Her throat...itched...no, it...it felt full, like she was
choking on something.

She tried to pull her arms up, to raise her hands to her throat, but of
course, couldn't, and as her mind slowly managed to wrap itself around what
was happening, as she realized that he had actually got his cock right down
in her throat...

She came.

It was yet another massive goad to her sense of dignity, to her sudden deep,
gut-level need for him to use her in a raw, rough, carnal way, for him to
treat her like a cheap sluttish sex-toy. She had heard of the term deep
throating before, had even considered the very notion to be exciting.

But she had a distaste for sucking cocks, and couldn't ever imagine herself
actually doing...that.

But no she had her lips pressed against the base of his cock, and his balls
were against her chin. She was staring at his belly from an inch away, and
her throat bulged with the thickness of his throbbing male organ.

It shot her off the edge of sanity, and she thrashed and shook violently,
humping desperately back as she tried to scream and howl. Her throat was
utterly blocked, however, and allowed no space for either words or oxygen.

She didn't care. She didn't care that she couldn't breath. She didn't care
that her chest was tight and hot from lack of air, that her head was ready
to explode. Her mind was fading out, but she didn't know or care about that
either. She bathed in the fire of ecstasy as her vision blurred.

Then he pulled his cock out of her throat, and she could breath again. She
fell back onto the floor and lay there panting for breath for long minutes.
She had a...taste in her mouth, and knew...unconsciously, that he had come
in her mouth...in her throat.

She moaned weakly, chest heaving as she tried to regain some sense of what
was going on. The buzzing in her crotch didn't help that any, however.

Paul slowly untied her, starting at her ankles, then her knees, then her
thighs, then untying the rope behind her and pulling the two strands up to
her breasts, slowly easing their tight, biting grip around her sore orbs.

Her wrists were last, because they'd been first, and as soon as they were
free she brought them around in front of her, to her pussy. She lay on her
side, her thighs together, and slid her fingers in between them, curling
herself up into the fetal position as she humped slowly, rubbing her clitty
and pressing against the base of the vibrator.

Paul got the camera off the tripod and stood over her, then reached out with
his foot and shoved her arm, rolling her onto her back. She hardly noticed
him. She spread her legs naturally, rubbing her clitty as she moaned in
pleasure.

He eased onto one knee and reached down for the vibrator with one hand,
gripping the end and pulling it out halfway. He pumped it in and out, then
left it alone with just an inch inside. He pulled back, and focused the
camera as Jamie instantly grabbed it and shoved it up her sweating, drooling
cunt crack.

She pumped it in and of herself, head back, eyes closed, grunting and panting
and moaning as she raised her knees and spread them wide. Then she came
again, humping desperately, whimpering and sobbing as the pleasure ripped
through her body.

Afterwards he pulled the vibrator out of her, then lifted her and carried her
through the bedroom and into the bathroom, setting her down in the tub. He
turned on the water and poured in some bubblebath, then climbed in beside her
as the water slowly rose.

They sat hip to hip, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder as she
tried to recover some control of herself.

"Hot little slut," he said affectionately.

"What's happening to me?" she breathed.

"You're having fun. Don't question it."

"Jesus Christ. I thought I'd go crazy."

"What a way to go," he smiled, caressing the side of her face.

"I thought my body would explode," she said, blinking her eyes. "It was so
wonderful I couldn't stand it."

"You're making me jealous."

He slid his hand down and cupped her breast and she gasped and pushed his
hand back.

"Don't!" she gasped. "Oh, they're sore!'

"Are they? Want me to kiss them and make them better?"

"No! That's the last thing I want. They'll get all...hard again."

"They looked great hard."

"Not that hard," she sighed. "Jesus."

She cupped her pussy and felt the aching there, the rawness from where the
ropes had dug into her tender pink meat, and looked at her wrists, which had
rope burns on them.

"Shit," she said.

"I didn't tie them that tight," he said. "It was your pulling at them that
did this."

"I...I know."

"You really get off on being tied up, huh."

"I...yes, I don't know why."

"It kind of does something for me too, baby."

"You're turning me into...some kind of...masochist."

"No I'm not. You're still you. So what if you get off on vibrators and ropes.
We won't tell the man-haters down at your agency.

"They'd never believe it."

"They would if we showed them the video tapes."

"Oh Jesus!!"

He laughed and kissed her before she slid down under the water. He pulled her
back up and she rubbed the water off her face.

"What you are doing," he said, thinking for a moment "is coming to terms with
your sexuality."

"Oh, don't give me that feminist bullshit," she said.

"Okay then, what you're doing is having a helluva lot of fun. Who gives a
shit what other people would say? They aren't going to know."

They spent the rest of the afternoon in comfortable relaxation, not thinking
much about sex, acting like they always had. He took her out to a restaurant,
then they went dancing. That night they made comfortable, easy love in bed.

The next day she got out of bed in a relaxed, easy-going mood, and went to
the kitchen. Paul shuffled in a couple of minutes behind her, kissed her on
the side of the neck, then slid his hand under her nightshirt and squeezed
her bare ass.

Then he put his hands around her and hugged her.

"Good morning, Beautiful."

"Morning, handsome," she said, turning her head and smiling.

"Now why on earth are you wearing this?" he asked in mock surprise.

His hands began unbuttoning the nightshirt.

"Paaaulll," she protested.

"A body this sexy shouldn't be covered up," he said, unbuttoning the
nightshirt to the hem, then pulling it off her shoulders.

She considered protesting, but decided not to. She felt sexy, and liked it
that he was turned on by her.

She made breakfast in the nude, then put his plate in front of him and hers
on the other side of the table. He halted her, pulled her plate over next to
his, then pulled her down on his lap.

"Paaulll," she giggled. "You're being silly."

"Silly, am I?" he growled.

He buried his face in the nape of her neck and blew raspberries, then they
took turns feeding each other from their plates.

After breakfast she washed the dishes while he went out and got the papers.
When he got back she had the nightshirt on, and he took it off again, taking
the time to fondle and grope her body and kiss her a little.

Then she stretched out on the sofa...naked, and he sat back on the recliner
while they read the papers. Afterwards, Sunday being their housekeeping day,
Paul scrubbed the floor while she did the laundry...in the nude.

It felt very strange being naked all the time, but Paul was insistent, and
she felt too...sexually free and alive to really argue. It was silly, but...
even doing something as dull as bending over to take the laundry out of the
hamper, or squatting to sort it on the floor, or reaching, stretching to
vacuum the curtains drew her mind towards sex.

Leaning into the hamper she leaned further than she normally did, and spread
her legs as she did, imagining that Paul would come up like that and fuck
her. As she squatted, she imagined he was below her, his cock rigid. As she
stretched, she imagined herself bound by the wrists while he fucked her.

Several times she went to him, pressing her lush, naked body against him,
giggling and cooing, and trying to grope him, trying to excite him into sex.
But he calmly refused, slapping her ass and sending her back to finish the
chores.

It was, if nothing else, the most interesting time she'd ever had doing
chores. She made him lunch, then tried to asses, while watching him, whether
he wanted her to sit on her lap or somewhere else.

He pulled her against him, but stopped her from sitting. Instead he turned
her around and pulled her wrists together behind her back.

"My wrists are still sore," she said worriedly.

"Don't worry about it."

He produced a length of silk, a silk scarf he'd given her once which she'd
never worn, and wrapped it carefully around her wrists. It was loose enough
that she could hardly feel it, yet she couldn't move her wrists even the
smallest bit.

Then he pulled her onto his lap, having her lean back as he spooned up soup,
directing every second spoonful to her mouth. Several times he spilled some
onto her breasts, then licked it off. She found that incredibly sexy,
especially when he sucked at her nipples.

He lifted up a roll and positioned it in front of her mouth but she shook her
head.

"Put some butter on it," she said.

"Butter? The lady wants butter?"

"Of course I want butter. What kind of a clod eats a roll without butter?"

"You don't stop being rude you'll get a spanking," he warned.

"Sorry," she said, after an eternity's hesitation.

She almost wanted a spanking. She was so turned on she had already decided
that if he didn't do something she was going to go in the bathroom after
lunch and masturbate. She also wondered where that vibrator was.

"Say please," he said.

"Please," she parroted.

"Please may I have some butter," he taunted.

"Please may I have some butter."

He reached over to the butter and dug his fingers into it.

"PAaaaulll!"

"What? You wanted butter."

"Use a knife, pig!"

"I don't think I need a knife."

He took the butter and rubbed it over her nipples.

"Paaulll."

He licked at her nipples and she closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure.
Between the chill of her nudity, and the excitement that had gripped her
most of the morning, her nipples had been erect for so long they were
almost painfully stiff.

He lapped and suckled as he reached for more butter. He dug out another wad,
but instead of putting it against her breasts he slid it down between her
legs and rubbed it against her pussy mound, digging his fingers into the soft
flesh and forcing them up between her lips.

She spread her legs and groaned as he pulled her head back by the hair,
forcing her breasts up and out tautly. He licked and sucked, moving between
her nipples as his fingers stroked across her buttery clitty. He returned his
fingers to the butter and drew out another soft chunk, shoving that against
her muff, forcing it up into her pussy tunnel.

He pumped his fingers inside her as he rubbed his thumb across her clitty,
and she ground her ass into his lap as she felt the waves of pleasure rolling
across her body. He chewed on her throat, then licked at her nipples again as
he jerked her off, then, as her moans became more passionate, her movements
more desperate, he pulled his head back, lifting her head forward by the
hair.

He stared down at her face as he thrust his fingers into her sharply, jamming
three, then four fingers up her buttery cunt as his thumb stroked rapidly
over her clitty. He watched the passion played out on her face, watched the
intensity of her pleasure as she panted and groaned, her mouth wide, her eyes
tightly closed.

Then she stiffened, her back arching against him, her crotch humping
furiously against his fingers as he stabbed them up inside her. She cursed
and grunted, her legs jerking and bouncing in mid-air as she thrashed and
shook.

Then she went limp, her head falling backwards. He pushed himself up,
carrying her across to the living room before easing down to his knees. He
set her on the floor, then immediately rolled her over, pulling her ass up.

She spread her legs willingly, still hot despite the shakiness in her limbs.
She was on her knees, her shoulder pressed to the rug as his hands stroked
her ass. She felt his cock against her pussy meat, rubbing up and down
against the oily flesh, sawing back and forth between her cunt lips.

"Tell me what you want, slut!"

"Fuck me!" she panted. "Fuck me, Paul!"

"You want my cock?"

"Fuck mee! Fuck me with your cock! Stick it into me!"

She cried out as he thrust into her, driving his cock in to the hilt in one
motion. He seized her hips and began to fuck with a harsh, rapid motion,
using the oil of her body as well as the butter to send his cock pounding
down her fuck tunnel with fast, driving strokes.

He slapped her ass and she yelped. Then she felt his finger against her
asshole. She shuddered as it pushed in, sliding in to the knuckle and
twisting around in her rectum.

He curled his finger back and used it to lift her ass upwards, pulling it
up in time to his strokes. He pulled his finger out, then rubbed his hand
against her greasy pussy. He gave her ass another slap, then thrust his
finger up it again.

"You know what you need, Jamie...Jamie Buchman...you know what you need...you
need it up the asshole. Isn't that right? You need your ass pounded. Don't
you? Don't you?"

He slapped her ass again, and she cried out.

"Tell me you want it up the ass, slut! Tell me how bad you need your ass
reamed!"

"Paaaulll! Ooooohhhh!"

"Beg for it!"

"Noooo!"

He slapped her ass harder, and she yelped again.

"Tell me what a whore you are."

"I...I'm a whore," she gasped.

"You want a cock up the asshole. Don't you?"

"I...I...yes. Yessss."

"Beg for it."

"Fuck my ass!" she gasped, shocked to the core of her being at her words.
"Fuck me in the asshole!"

"Yeah! Up the ass, right?"

"Up my aaaaasss!" she moaned.

"You want to be butt-fucked? Beg! Beg!"

He slapped her ass even harder, and she cried out again, louder.

"Butt fuck meeeee," she sobbed. "Please butt-fuck me! Please fuck me in the
ass!"

"You cheap slut!"

He cracked his hand on her ass and she cried out in pain.

He tore his cock free of her snatch and pressed it against her asshole.

"This is it, whore! I'm gonna fuck your asshole! I'm gonna pound my cock so
far up your ass the jism is gonna come out of your mouth! Dirty slut! Ungh!
Uhhhhoooooohhhhh!"

He forced his cock slowly down into her tight asshole, and they both groaned
at the sensation. He loved the tightness as her ass muscles squeezed down on
him, and loved the sight of his cock pushing into his wife's ass.

He saw her wrists pulling and twisting at the scarf, and slapped her ass
again, then again, finding that it loosened her ass and let him thrust
forward sharply. He buried his boner in her ass and sighed in pleasure,
stroking and kneading her ass flesh.

"Theeeere you go, slut. There you goooo. Your ass is all full of cock meat
now. You like that? Ehhh? Like that, slut?"

He twisted his cock around inside her, sliding his right hand under her chest
to knead her breast, and his left under his cock to stroke her pussy. He
began to pump down into her ass, delighted at his mastery over her, his teeth
gleaming as he looked down on his newly submissive, sex-starved wife.

He began to pound his cock down into her with forceful strokes, gripping
her hair and twisting it enough to make her groan and whine, using her
ruthlessly. He rode over her, his arms around her and clutching her tight
as he buried his dick in her ass.

Then his hands slid off her belly, one going high, the other low. He squeezed
her breasts as he stroked her clitty, and was soon riding a bucking bronco,
his cock twisting from side to side in her rectum as she jerked and shook her
ass.

He rodded it down into her as fast and hard as he could, straining to hold
back the pressure from his balls, wanting her to come again before he spilled
his juice inside her. She was groaning and panting and whining like a bitch
in heat, and he knew she was close.

Then she came, and he let her spasming, sucking, squeezing asshole pull him
along with her, felt wad after wad, thick and hot and wet, blasting out the
tip of his cock and pumping up into her slutty asshole.

    

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