Chapter 2
Doug and Hope Hills flinched as they heard the knocking on the door. They had seen the car pull up, so it was not a surprise. But they were jittery, on edge. And they were hot. The couple visiting them now knew that very well. Perhaps that was why their knock had a snappiness to it. An eager cadence.
Hope adjusted her caftan neckline and sauntered to the door, trying to hide her anticipation with a a slow, rhythmic grinding of her round, firm hips.
"Hurry," her overeager beaver husband whispered, half-out loud, hair under his breath.
They had made a few preparations for this afternoon, and he was in a big rush to greet his company so they could all get on with their little session.
He had fixed up the guest room especially for this visit. Seen to it that the bedposts on the big four-poster were sturdy, and in good repair. Brought a variety of ropes and nylon cords into the house for his wife's inspection. Tried out several different kinds of knots, practicing some of them to an art form. And, of course, done a lot of reading on the subject.
The subject of sex. Sex and pain. He and his wife were somewhat new to the practice, having only discovered the joys of bondage recently. The Dexters, so they claimed, were old hands at it.
Paula Dexter even confided to Hope that it was how they fell in love.
"Spanked me silly the first time we were together," she said, nodding her head and whispering so that no one else in the ladies' room would hear, "whipped my butt red and raw as a hamburger patty first time we made it. And I loved it. I swear to you, Hope, it's how we've kept the marriage together. Boyd never looks at other women. Unless I order him to, of course."
Then she had thrown that luxuriant black head of hair of hers back and laughed.
The four of them had met at a summer resort, early in the season. It was a quiet, lakeside spot. And there wasn't a lot to do there, except soak up the sun.
That's how Hope had run into Paula. The girl was stunning in her two piece skimpy little bikini. She could hardly believe she had two daughters. She figured they must be babies. Then, she showed her a picture of them. Radiantly beautiful young ladies, one looking just like her mother.
"You must have been a baby when you got married," she said with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.
She didn't know how right she had actually been. The girls got the idea of introducing their husbands to each other. The men were about the same age, Doug being a little younger. Doug was a sportsman. A fisherman, a water skier, a golfer, a weight lifter.
The two had a lot in common. And so it was no surprise that they ended up for cocktails the next afternoon at the Dexter cottage.
"It's just a little summer place," Doug said, proud of the place that he had actually built for the most part with his own hands, "but we like it."
"It's good to have a regular place to bring the girls," Paula said, mixing a drink at the bar in the living room alcove, "even for just the weekends."
"Where are they?" Hope asked, anxious to see them.
"Scout camp," Paula said, taking a sip of her drink and finding it a little stronger than she had intended. Oh, well, what the hell.
She carried the tray in and the four of them sat back and passed the afternoon pleasantly enough.
Of course, Hope wanted to see the house. So Paula took her on a little walking tour. The place struck her as quaint, rustic, if a little overdone for a place in the country. But then, Paula didn't work, like she did, so she had a lot of time to over-decorate.
"What's that?" she said, noticing an odd-looking paddle lying on the dresser of the master bedroom.
It was rather a crude affair, looked homemade. The handle was thick and wound tightly with cord. The paddle part was huge. A giant wooden disc, covered with thick layers of dark, ribbed rubber. It looked mean. It couldn't have been a ping pong paddle. Her curiosity got the better of her before she had a chance to censor herself.
"Oh," Paula said, smiling a little teasing, elfin grin and swinging her hips nonchalantly, "just a paddle."
"Oh," Hope said, wondering if she should drop the subject. Maybe she shouldn't have opened her mouth in the first place.
"Boyd uses it on me before we have sex," the bold-faced woman said calmly.
Paula was scrupulous about hiding these things from her girls, but to women her own age, she saw no reason at all not to share them. After all, she enjoyed it. Why shouldn't others? Besides, she was incredibly naive about sex, and other peoples' sexual habits. She had never known anyone but her husband.
At least not before that summer. She turned and started out the door. Hope stood in the center of the room, flabbergasted. Her mouth flapped open before she spoke.
"What?" was all she could get out.
"You heard me," Paula said, watching for her reaction. "He spanks me a little before we do it. You know, in case I've been naughty."
"Naughty?" the beautiful red-haired Hope replied, "How so?"
Paula chewed on the piece of gum in her , mouth a moment. Then, she leaned against the door frame and looked into the woman's sullen, big gray eyes.
"Wanna see?" she said, maintaining a calm exterior.
"Okay," the woman said, tentatively. She wasn't sure, but then, she really would like to see it. Hmmmmmmm.....
"Let's go on out into the other room and I'll show you. Just play along and don't get scared. Remember, I love it."
The two of them went off into the living room giggling a little.
Doug Hills watched the two woman bounce up to the bar and huddle a moment with their heads together. He had his eye on Paula Dexter's hot, round buttocks. They were tucked up inside the bikini like cantaloupes in a tight crate. And those tits of hers. God, they were luscious.
Not that his wife didn't turn him on. She was a stunning redhead, taller than Paula. A svelte figure of a woman. With elongated sloping tits that managed to end on a high point in big, slippery thick silver dollar size nipples. Her ample pussy bush was a tawny red color that always provided him with an instant turn on whenever she flashed at him.
But those times had become fewer and fewer over the last ten years. Their marriage had ground down to a dull routine. Sex was fun with her, but predictable. They had talked about it. He had tried, but maybe he lacked something, too.
He had nothing to be ashamed of in the physique department. He was a well-muscled and finely-featured figure of a man. Ruggedly handsome, with massive beefy shoulders and chest and long, layered brown hair. A thick moustache clung to his upper lip, giving him a jaunty appearance.
He was especially proud of his cock. He had seen other men in the various locker rooms where he had worked out and played golf. As all men do. And he had a chance to compare and he was not wanting in that department.
That cock of his usually started to tingle a little when he thought about his wife. She was a stunner. If only their sex life had been a little more exciting. If only either of them had a little more imagination. If only.
His mind leapt back to the present as Paula and Hope reappeared. Paula Dexter is a hot little number, he thought to himself. But she's also some other dude's wife. He nixed any thoughts he might have had about getting into her panties. She seemed, after all, totally hung up on her husband.
She had the look of a cat who had swallowed a whole canary when she popped back into the room.
"Boyd," she said in a voice full of whines, "you left the lid off the coffee canister."
"Sorry," Boyd said, half-heartedly. He and Doug were talking about pike fishing and he didn't particularly like being disturbed by such trivial matters.
"You also left the door to the basement open," she said, "you know how I hate that."
"Well, then, shut it," the man said, with a growing tinge of annoyance running just under the current of his exterior.
"No!" Paula said, slamming one bare foot down onto the floor and clutching both her fists together like a spoiled child.
"What did you say?" Boyd said, annoyed that company should have to hear such a petty little domestic squabble.
"I said shove it up your ass," Paula said, knowing she wasn't making the least amount of sense, but dying to get on with it. She could feel the blood rushing to her cunt lips in preparation for her punishment. It always got her so hot, just looking at the little blood vessel in Boyd's temple when he got angry with her.
"You little bitch!" the man said, standing up and lunging toward her.
Hope had to stand back so she wouldn't get knocked down in the charge.
"How dare you talk like that to me in front of our guests," he said, shaking her hard by the shoulders.
Doug sat bolt upright in his wicker chair. He swore he could hear the woman's teeth chatter. What the hell would happen next, he had no idea.
"Ooooooh," Paula said, "listen to the big man swear at his wife, will you? Aren't you tough tenderloin?"
Doug braced himself for the inevitable slap he felt sure would follow. After all, the woman was asking for it. But nothing. No sound, no slap, no noise at all. Except that of scuffling feet.
Hope watched as Boyd half-dragged, half-shoved his wife up the few steps leading to the bedroom. She grabbed back at him, trying to fight him off. And as the two of them practiced dirty wrestling holds on each other, all the way into the bedroom, she felt her own temperature rise a degree or two. The little show, and whatever was to come, were getting her hot.
"Hope, honey," Doug said, standing up, "I think maybe we better go. It's no good our being...."
"It's okay," she said back to her handsome hunk of a husband in a quiet voice, "come on."
She wiggled her finger at him so that he would follow her up the stairs. She tiptoed up and made her way to the master bedroom.
The sounds coming from down that hall were deafening. The two were screaming and pelting each other. Each insisting the other was a jack-ass, jerk-off, loser, or whatever. And the sounds of slaps, kicks, even some scratching and spitting filled the little cottage.
"What the hell are you doing?" Doug said as his wife led him down the hall.
He had never seen her so curious or impertinent. She usually left other people alone to take care of their own business. She wasn't the type to pry. Or stick around where she wasn't wanted. So what the hell was she doing?
"It's okay, I promise you," she said, winking at him a knowing wink.
His wife had never lied to him, not ever that he knew of. So, as unsure as he was about the whole episode, he set off after her.
The door of the master bedroom was open about half. The two guests could easily see inside from where they stood in the hall.
And they could see plenty.
Paula was sitting on the bed, tossing her whole body around, trying to squirm away from her husband's hard grasp.
"No, no, no," she said, sobbing, kicking, and shouting.
"You know what you've done," the huge blonde man said back to her, "and now you're going to have to pay for it."
"Make me," she shot back like a petulant child.
She sat rigid as a statue with her hands folded across her gorgeous bosom as her husband spun around the room, looking for something.
Doug had no idea what, except it he thought it might have been a shot gun.
Boyd found the paddle and raced back to his wife, brandishing it over his head.
"I'm gonna make you sorry you ever opened your insipid little mouth," he said hotly charging her.
She covered her eyes and cowered back on the bed. "No, don't.. . Please."
It seemed to be a little late for please, Doug thought watching the two tear at each other. He had never struck his wife, and believed, like most gentlemen of his station, that it was strictly the wrong thing to do.
"Don't ever hit a girl," his mother had said to him when he was young, "girls can't defend themselves properly. You'll hurt 'em."
He had stuck to it, too. Even though Hope had pissed him off a few times. He may have shouted, stayed all night at the office to upset her, even walked out on her once for a whole week, but never, never had he raised a hand to her.
This presented a strange, alien picture to his mind.
Hope was no less confused, even though she had been warned what would happen by Paula.
She didn't much care for violence. It repulsed her. She couldn't even see most movies because she got sick in the theatre whenever there was blood. But this was different somehow. This was more acceptable to her. Actually, knowing what she knew, that Paula loved it, as she said, it looked kind of fun.
Still, that paddle looked hard. And it looked just as hard now that Boyd Dexter was waving it around in the air.
"Mouthy cunt!" he said, sneering at her like an evil satyr. "Get down here."
She wouldn't move from her perch near the headboard of their huge double bed. She shook her head in defiance.
"COME HERE!! ! " the man was getting a little overbearing.
The Hills couple watched, unable to move, to speak, to even think about what was happening. The scene in front of their eyes riveted them to the spot.
"Insolent bitch!" the man cried again, reaching for one slender ankle of his wife's foot, "get down here and take what's coming to you."
"Make me," the little beauty said, her eyes blazing up at him.
Doug could barely believe her persistence. How could this little woman, barely more than a girl really, think of defying this huge hulk of a man? It made no sense. Why didn't she just say she was sorry and beg his forgiveness? Throw herself on his mercy? It looked like he might whip her to shreds.
Boyd yanked the tiny body toward him and grabbed the bottom of her blue bikini with his hand. He locked it there a moment, then ripped the thing right off her. It came off in one piece, tattered where it split, waving in his hand.
He tossed it to the floor and lunged for the girl.
"No, no, no, no!! ! ! ! " her screams rose to the rafters. "Stop it, stop it, stop it."
"Too late, little one," the man said, almost calmly.
He flung the protesting woman over his knee and took a spot on the edge of the bed. Then, with the paddle firmly locked in his hand, he began beating a rain or blows on her adorable upraised ass cheeks.
Both Hope and Doug couldn't help but admire the woman's body. Her adorable raven-haired pussy patch had flashed brilliantly out at them, but only for a split second.
What they saw now was her delectable butt mounds. Perfectly rounded and muscled. Creamy, unlike her tanned body. And moist, slippery. They could tell that from the sound the paddle made when it struck against them.
The girl waved her arms and kicked her legs screaming aloud in a hail of protests.
"Stop it!"
"Let me go, you animal!! "
"I'll get you for this, I will."
"Brute, stop it!! ! ! "
"Stop it!! ! ! ! ! ! ! "
"Cut it out, Scum Bag!"
The man continued his non-stop assault on his wife's pert little rear end. And it proved to be an assault on Hope's throbbing pussy. She was getting aroused as she hadn't been in a long time, even though she would have denied it, if asked.
Doug, too, was feeling the pinch. His huge man cock had started to take an upward turn. It had begun getting longer and harder and thicker as each slap found its way to the girl's sweet hot ass.
Paula Dexter dug her fingernails into her husband's thighs and shook her head. She could feel the sting of the close, tight harsh blows down on her ass cheeks. It tingled, it burned, it seethed. And it turned her on so hard her cunt lips clanged together.
Her husband looked evil and sinister as he paddled his naughty wife. He dug his paddle across the upraised welts he had already created. Her butt was getting a good hammering all right. The welts were real enough. The reddish tracks they made could be documented with a camera, or any witnesses. They weren't fake. Her screams weren't fake, either, they were shrill and loud. Honest reports of her painful predicament. His hard on was real, too. His cock and balls were slamming against each other and his shorts, trying to get out and do their thing.
Still, he pounded his little wife furiously. Like a tempest pounding a floundering dinghy at sea.
"Little bitch queen!" he said, heatedly.
"Naughty little girl."
"Fucking cunt, you deserve it."
"Don't you ever talk that way to me again, do you hear?"
"Spoiled little brat, I'll whip you till you can't sit down."
His words smote Doug in the pants. His cock was growing by centimeters every second. Soon it would be out to its full length, its length of readiness. Then, what the hell was he going to do about it. He felt his cock head beating against his shorts seam. He wanted to reach right down there and loosen his belts, unzip hids pants, and give it an airing. Christ, it was a temptation.
Hope moved back so that her butt was sticking into her husband's front side. She felt his growing cock hard on with her butt cheeks. She pressed herself hard against him, pressing his big dick into the crevice between her butt. She wiggled it a little bit.
That's a surprise, Doug thought to himself. Unable to believe that it was his wife shoving her butt into his cock. She didn't do things like this. She only got excited in bed. After the lights were off. After she had put the dishes into the dishwasher. And called her Mom.
But here she was, surprising him. And so pleasantly. She continued her little wiggling move, up and down, then from side to side. All in glorious accompaniment to the licking Dexter was giving his wife.
"You're hot!" his wife said, in a new sexy little voice he hadn't heard before.
He reached around to the front of her shorts and pressed his hand against her pussy, hard. "So are you," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. "So the fuck are you."
From where Hope was standing, it looked like they weren't the only ones who were hot. She could see a massive bulge in Boyd's pants.
And another surprise. His wife was pulling off the top of her bikini.
Her enormous tits swung free a moment as she raised her head up like a seal touching its toes. Then, she flopped back down and writhed some more against her husband's outstretched knees.
But there was a method to her acts. She could reach down and pull on his zipper from that position. And she wasted no time doing so.
"Hey, Brute," she said, looking up at him and speaking loud enough for the onlookers to hear, "that hurts."
"So does my cock, Bitch," the man growled. "And you're gonna find out how much."
He threw the tiny body to one side and unzipped his zipper with one knowing hand. His wife tried to squirm away in the short time it took him, but it was useless. He grabbed her by the thighs, yanked her back, and for good measure, spread them apart like scissors at their widest point.
He grabbed a handful of pillows from atop the bed and stuffed them under her butt. That sore, bruised little butt!
God, Hope thought, watching the show intently, that ass of hers must hurt right about now. How can she stand it?
The man turned his wife over in one swoop, and placed her up on all fours. He shoved the pillows under his own knees to give him comfort and a little extra height.
Oh, God, Doug thought to himself, that man's gonna fuck his wife and we're standing right here watching the whole thing. He felt like a voyeur. A busybody. A prying neighbor. But he was too aroused to walk away just now. So, he stood there and watched. Watched with a passion.
Hope eyed the man's gigantic throbbing hard on. It looked like a salami. Reddish, evil, threatening and hard. Very hard.
She reached around to where her husband's cock was bivouacked tightly inside his pants. She peeled his zipper down slowly, tantalizingly.
Doug had never felt her hands operating his zipper like that before. She usually waited until he had his pajamas on touch him. But here she was undressing him and seemingly loving it. What a switch! What a turn on!!
Hope wound her hand around her husband's staunch cock. She felt the moisture of his cock dome. She slicked it down with her fingers, all the way down his huge, hard shaft. She began making little pumping movements with her hand, aiming her man's schlong tip toward her own ass.
Doug felt his knees go watery with excitement. His own little wife! Doing such daring and naughty things, right in front of this other couple. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Possibly their sex relationship was in for a new lease.
"Ooooooh," Paula let out as the tip of her muscle-bound husband nudged up inside her aching pink cunt lips. He managed to continue beating her butt as he slipped his long rod up her pussy slit.
All the way up. It sent her into paroxysms of delirious joy. Her cunt lips parted, receiving the whole of his massive man meat up high, higher inside her.
"Lousy cunt!" her man snarled, beating her with the paddle and plugging her cunt with his prick.
The combination of hitting and humping had him in seventh heaven. His huge prick rammed his wife's tiny little opening and delivered blow after blow to her aching butt rounds.
In the position he was fucking her, he could see the sweet little dusky rose sphincter between her ass cheeks. It puckered invitingly as he plowed her silly.
"Stick it to her," Hope said, surprised at the sound of her own voice.
"Fuck that cunt," Doug joined in, ramming his stiff rod against his wife's backside. He wanted it inside her. He wanted it in there like crazy.
He couldn't wait another second. He reached around and found her tiny little zipper. He unbuttoned her shorts and split the zipper down straight with his fingers.
Then, he eased her right out of her shorts. And he brought her silken panties down around her ankles with them, too. He couldn't wait. And he knew he couldn't. He hadn't been this hot since the first time he had made it with her.
Cupping his hands around his wife's gigantic upward sloping tits, he nailed his dick firmly into the inviting little wet hole between her legs. He was fucking her from the back, as he hadn't done in a long time.
And what was even more incredible, they were standing up. Christ, he was fucking her and it wasn't even bedtime!
He closed his eyes in ecstasy and felt his cock ram up into her slithery little cunt hole. It felt so hot and ready inside there. So creamy and mysterious. It gripped him hard as he banged her with a vengeance.
"Fuck me," she said, dreamily back to him, "oh, that's wild. That's insane. Fuck my cunt. Fuck me, you stud you."
He couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe her mouth. He couldn't believe that his cock was as stiff and hard and angry as it was.
The sounds of the couple on the bed fucking in and out, in and out, and the pounding of the paddle against the girl's outstretched flanks made everyone in the little foursome deliriously hot. Hotter than the beach.
"Take that, Bitch," the man called down to his wife, who was immobilized by the fucking she was getting.
"Take that up your lousy little cunt," he said again, raining another slap to her hot, reddish-tinged behind.
"Now, get fucked, Cunt!"
"Take that dick."
"Take it and like it:"
"Take my cock."
"Take my cock you lousy Cunt."
Hope and Doug had a great view of the man humping his wife. They could see him pulling his huge, hard schlong all the way out of her writhing pink pussy hole and slamming it down in again. All the while taunting her, catcalling to her, slapping her on her butt.
Hope felt a fever burning inside her cunt. She reached back and cupped her husband's huge round hairy balls in her hands and squeezed them around and around, then back and forth. She had barely ever touched his balls, but now, for some strange reason, she felt like it.
Hope felt a wrenching in her guts. Could it be, could it possibly be she was going to climax? She hadn't for months. Maybe six months. Of course, she had kept it from her husband, faked orgasm as often as they had sex, which wasn't too often anymore. But here she was, watching the most erotic scene of her adult life and getting her husband's massively huge cock up her beckoning cunt. And loving it.
She squeezed her cunt lips together tight, embracing his whole schlong with her hot pussy muscles. Then, she let go a load of come. A hissing, hot, slimy load.
"Fuck me!" she shouted as she went off.
Her husband was not far behind. He plugged her brutally, pushing his punishing dick inside her and hauling it out rapidly. As fast as he could go now. Then, he felt a thick bubbling in his gut. An eager, oncoming bubbling that he knew could not be stopped.
It surged down into his nuts. The nuts his wife even now so maddeningly was massaging. Massaging him to a sweet, unexpected climax. It happened so suddenly. His giant load of hot come roared down his pecker and emptied itself out his enlarged cock slit. It spilled into the belly of his woman and stuck there. White, hot and gooey.
Paula Dexter gave way to the overwhelming sensation building up just behind her cunt hole. It pressured her lips, her clit, her pubic mound. Every part of that dainty little well of her cunt that was now receiving the crushing blows of her man's monster dick.
She gave way to the sensation and blushed from head to toe as the come charged out of her.
Her pussy quivered.
It ran down her thick, gripping pussy lips and disturbed her clit. It tickled her pubic mound and trickled out through the fringe of jet-black hair that now lay in a matted hunk.
Boyd Dexter plugged his little wife as hard as he could, easing his blows to her behind as he chugged and thrust his hot hips up hard enough to impale her. He felt the race of hot, unstoppable come surge down his pecker and erupt like a hot jet stream from the end of his dick. It filled the little pink velvet cavity and oozed out creamy and thick.
"Mine!" his wife called as she dove around to eat up the gooey liquid.
She sucked his still rock hard dick all the way up and dowa his thick, dark shaft, cleaning every inch of it off with her eager, lapping tongue.
"Wow!" Hope Hills said, sinking into the floor in exhaustion.
Her husband, his dick still plugged in to his wife's socket slumped down with her. They held each other a brief minute, and then watched in horror as Boyd and Paula regained their breath control and stared out at them.
"Oh, God," Doug said, trying to close the door with his foot. He figured he ought to allow them a few moments of privacy since he had been watching their entire love-making process for the last fifteeen minutes. He and his wife.
"It's okay," Paula said to his surprise. "You can leave that open. I did."