Chapter 4
Bev tried to piece together everything that had taken place. She lay there in bed, trying to fit things together. She looked at her husband's curly hair, pressed against the pillow, and she ran her hands through it. She pulled at a few of the curls, just for her own enjoyment, and when his hand brushed hers away, she realized there would be no more sex play till the next day.
The redhead lay there, resting her head in the softness of her pillow. She closed her eyes, and tried to drift off to sleep, but unconsciousness would not come. There were just too many things swirling in her mind.
She couldn't get it all out of her mind, the strange things that had gone on between them. She thought, when he apologized to her, that they would get into a long discussion about it all. Nothing like that had happened. He had just brushed it off,-and that was all there was to it. She was still sure he wasn't convinced of her innocence, even though he didn't seem to care one way or the other.
She was innocent. She hadn't fucked Ernie or anyone besides her husband.
She remembered how she had told him, when they first met at Middleburg College, that she had only slept with one man before, that one boyfriend. She thought about that guy now. She had met him before Adam. They were the only two men she had let fuck her.
When Adam had told her about his being a one-woman man, she had been thinking she was also a one-man woman. She saw the way her girl friends were going from one guy to another, trying to fuck everything in sight.
She had always thought that sex should be more than the act itself. When the guy had finally talked her into giving up her virginity to him, she knew it was going to be lovely. It sure as hell had been too.
When Adam had asked her to sleep with him, she had done it. She knew that it was going to be lovely with him too. She had been right. When Adam made love to her, she felt all these tingly feelings in her body. She felt her passions rise to a fever pitch.
She would have fiery orgasms. Tonight it had been even better. The first time he had brought her to orgasm tonight, he had stopped and left her hanging. Yet, her body remained in that tingly state from the bondage. The second time, when he had actually brought her off, it didn't just subside when it was over.
Her body stayed like that till he finally took the ropes off her. It was almost as good, if not better, than the time they had first fucked. Then there had been the great fuck when they had first decided to live together. That had to be one of the best fucks of her life. This one had come pretty close, and that was one of the reasons she was so upset about Adam's refusal to talk about it. She still wanted to know why he had decided to bind her arms to the bedposts. He still hadn't told her that. She also wanted him to know how much she had enjoyed it all, how tingly her body had felt, how good her orgasms had been.
He wouldn't talk about it, even though he had been talkative when he first came home from work. He had walked in with a brown paper bag tucked under his arm, and he had placed it on the table.
"For me?" she'd asked.
"Yes, it is," he said dryly.
"Oh goodie. I'll look inside."
He had snatched it away before she was able to touch it, and now she knew why. If she had seen all those bondage devices, she would never have let him use them on her. She had to admit that to herself.
Now, as she lay next to him, watching his back move every so often, watching his ass muscles flex as he moved his legs, she knew why he had said all those things. He was just setting her up for discipline.
He had been quite loving during the evening. Every so often he had put his arms around her waist and given her a kiss on the back of the neck. He didn't really believe she was fucking Ernie Snyder. Every time he kissed her she felt a thrill down to her cunt. She always felt a reaction in her cunt when he touched her.
She let her mind range back over the events of the evening. She had gone looking for him, after she had cleared the dishes. She found him in the bedroom. She had failed to notice that he'd taken the bag from the table.
He was lying on the bed, stretched out and looking comfortable. He patted the bed next to him and indicated that he wanted her there. When she had walked into the room and seen him lying there, she knew that he wanted to fuck. She went and lay beside him.
He put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close to him, kissed her. She started to sense the warmth of being in his arms. She felt like that all the time, when he touched her, but this time it was even more thrilling. She was fully dressed, lying on the bed with her husband.
She was getting hot, getting horny.
"I love you," she said. "You're my sex object."
"Sex? Did I hear you say sex?"
"You sure did," she said. She was running her hand down between his legs. She could feel his hardness. "I think another part of you heard the word sex too. Your cock, dear. Your lovely cock."
"You are a naughty one," he had said.
"Your lovely cock," she went on. "That throbbing, pulsing thing. That wonderful rod between your legs that thrills me so much."
Then he was climbing on top of her, and he was kissing her on the lips once again. She could feel his hands pulling at her buttons. Her nipples were already so stiff at that point she thought they'd burst. When he opened her blouse, he started to play with her tits. She hardly ever wore a bra.
Soon he was lifting the blouse off her shoulders, and he moved his mouth down to her tits and started to kiss them. She could feel the way he was playing with her stiff nipples in his mouth, and she closed her eyes and just tried to concentrate on the sensations.
She didn't even think there was anything wrong with him when they started making love. He stretched her hands overhead. He did that kind of thing to her often, letting his outstretched arms lie on top of hers while he kissed her tits.
She could feel his hands gripping tightly to hers. She hardly even noticed when he started to loosen his grip on her hands. Soon, his hands weren't even touching hers, and hers were still outstretched. Then, she could feel something else touching her wrists. Something that felt so smooth. She didn't even try to think of what it was. Anything that helped the heightening of sensations was nothing to worry about.
It was only when she felt the thing get tighter around her wrists that she started to think about it, but even then, she didn't bother opening her eyes. For he was doing such an expert job on her nipples, and to open her eyes would mean that she would have to look, and lose some of the sensations.
Then, he stopped kissing her tits. She opened her eyes and she saw him sliding down her body, pulling off her pants at the same time. That was when she first tried to move her arms, and she saw that she couldn't. She pulled at them, and they wouldn't move. Then she looked, and she could see that there were these tight leather bonds around her wrists. They were strapped to the two bedposts, and the more she pulled on her wrists, the tighter they seemed to get.
By the time she looked down at him again, she was totally naked, and he was already stretching out her leg and wrapping a leather bond around one ankle. She couldn't believe that he was doing this to her.
"Adam! What are you doing?"
He made no reply. He just went on tying the thong about her ankle, and then he yanked it nearer to the lower bedpost. When she realized that her free leg was the only thing she had left to fight with, she tried to kick. She hit him in the face, and for a minute, she thought that her toenail had scratched him. It missed. By the time she realized that it hadn't, he had already grabbed that foot, and he was already binding her.
Then he reached under the bed, pulled out the paper bag that he had brought home with him that night, walked over to the dresser, put the bag down, and sat down next to it.
"Adam, is this what was in the bag? I want to know? Is this what you brought home for me?"
That was when he went into his silent act.
He sat there looking at her for almost a half hour before he said anything. He did things to her first, she remembered now. The orgasm that almost was, but wasn't. She would hardly ever be able to forget that.
Then he had started to accuse her of fucking Ernie Snyder. That really hurt. She had never even thought of doing anything like that before. She had only met the man twice. The first time was the day he was moving in. She had seen all the suitcases that were being hauled into the place, and when the movers left, he was all alone.
Bev thought he might want some coffee or something, and chances were he didn't have his cooking gear taken out of the boxes. She made a pot of coffee and took some rolls that she had just bought that morning, and brought them over to him.
He was delighted that she was so thoughtful. She liked his foreign accent and manners. He was such a gentleman. They had coffee and rolls, talked for a short while, and then he asked her if she would mind if he got back to his unpacking.
Naturally, she understood and she left him with his boxes and suitcases.
That was the first time she ever saw the man. It was innocent and harmless enough. Then there was the second meeting. He had come over just to talk and find out a little about the new apartment building he was living in. She had been glad to tell him, because she enjoyed listening to his accent.
He was always so cordial with her. She found him enchanting, but not in a sexual way. He was always completely polite. On both occasions, the possibility of fucking him had been completely remote from his mind, or so it seemed.
Beverly stared at her husband, lying there asleep. He had been the only man for her, at least after that old boyfriend at school. Her mind drifted back to him, that former boyfriend. He had been the first to fuck her. She wondered what he was up to these days.