Hot Stories for Cold Nights (20 page)

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Authors: Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

BOOK: Hot Stories for Cold Nights
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“I thought we'd already agreed to that.”
“We did, but I want to reinforce it. I want to be free to try things. Some you might not enjoy. Please, tell me.”
“Sure,” I said readily agreeing.
“If you promise to say something, I promise to stop. Deal?”
He was taking this all so seriously, and that was one of the many reasons I loved him. “Deal,” I said.
“In much of my reading, couples had words they could use to stop anything and everything.” When I looked puzzled, he continued, “If you want to say ‘Oh, please don't,' for effect, then you can say it. If you really want to stop, though, how about—” He looked around the room. “How about
coffeepot
? If you say that, I'll stop. Agreed?”
I took a deep breath. “Sounds like you've got some pretty kinky stuff in mind.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I do. Coffeepot. Yes?”
“Coffeepot it is.” We shook on it.
“Okay. Now lie down. I want you for my plaything.”
I remembered a photo we'd seen on a website and realized that Scott recalled it, too. I squeaked as I settled on my back on the cold wood. “It's freezing.”
“We'll warm it up soon enough.” He took a small box from behind the sofa and put it on the floor beside him. “I've been doing a little shopping.”
“I see.” But I didn't; I couldn't see inside the box.
“I went to an adult website and bought a few things. Hold out your arms, and remember our word.”
I nodded and held out my arms. From the box, Scott took two plastic- and cardboard-wrapped packages and, using a pair of scissors, removed the packaging. He brandished two pairs of black, fur-lined handcuffs. “Okay?”
I was game so again I nodded. It was sweet that he needed constant reassurance. I guess I would, too, if the roles were reversed. He quickly fastened one cuff to each wrist, leaving the other end dangling. From the box he removed two more larger ones, and efficiently clasped them onto my ankles.
“One more thing,” he said, pulling out a pair of black wooden clothespin-looking things I assumed were nipple clamps, connected with a metal chain. I'd seen them in many of the pictures Scott had shown me on the web. “Ready?”
I sighed, willing to try. “As ready as I'll ever be.” I knew how erotic I found the spankings I'd been given and I hoped the clamps would increase the sensations.
He clipped them on. “If they are too tight there's an adjustment.”
I felt the sensation throughout my body. Pain, yes. But excitement, too. They might get too tight over time but for the moment I was all right with it.
“Okay, lie on the table, facedown.”
When I was as comfortable as I was going to get, with the nipple clamps beneath me, I told Scott I was ready, and he fastened the free end of each of the four sets of handcuffs to the legs of the table. “I was afraid the hardware underneath you would be uncomfortable in a bad way so I brought a pillow.” He lifted my chest and butt and slid a thick foam cushion beneath my pubis. It had the effect of letting my breasts hang slightly and lessened the discomfort of the equipment beneath me. “And, of course, it puts your ass right where I want it.”
I was becoming lost in the sea of sensations and couldn't say anything.
My face was turned toward the center of the room where I could watch Scott unwrap yet another toy, a black wooden paddle. “Ready for this?”
I could only nod.
“Maybe only five, but you can say
coffeepot
at any time.” He sat on the sofa beside me, and I turned to watch him. He raised the paddle and swatted my ass. It wasn't a love tap, but I knew he could paddle me harder if he wanted. “That's one.”
He stopped and stroked my ass. Then he swatted me again. “That's two.”
By then my pussy was twitching, and as my nipples swelled, the clamps got tighter.
Again the paddle fell. “That's three.”
I was trembling with arousal. I watched Scott move to the foot of the table and felt his fingers in my pussy. “So wet,” he crooned. “I've got something for that.”
Again he went to the box, this time withdrawing a large dildo with a wire attached. He rubbed the cold plastic over my folds, then pushed it inside me. “With your ass in the air this should stay in place,” he said.
If he'd played with that phallus a bit I'd have come right then, but I couldn't get enough stimulation from the unmoving thing to push me over the edge. I clenched and released my vaginal muscles but I couldn't quite do it.
Again the paddle landed, only increasing my excitement. The nipple clamps hurt more now, and the pleasure I'd had from them earlier changed to just plain pain. I considered not calling it quits, but decided that if Scott couldn't trust me, he wouldn't feel as free to experiment. “Coffeepot.”
“Baby,” Scott said, sounding totally contrite. “I'm so sorry.” He started to unfasten my wrists but I stopped him. Minutes ago I couldn't have uttered a full sentence but the pain was bringing me back to life. “No, Scott. Not that. Just unclip these nipple things and don't stop.”
He quickly removed the clamps, then, without pause, hit my ass hard. I jumped and almost came. “About this thing in your pussy. It does tricks.”
I heard and felt a buzzing in my cunt, then the dildo actually moved. I came then, screaming, moaning. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
My body collapsed and Scott withdrew the toy. My ass stung, but he spread a cooling lotion on my flesh. He then removed the cuffs and pulled me to the carpet between his thighs. I had to move only slightly to unzip his jeans and pull out his rock-hard cock. I licked and sucked until, with a matching scream, he came.
We both stretched out on the sofa. Later I again reassured Scott that I had enjoyed our playing. “As if my very noisy climax wasn't enough for you.”
He laughed. “And you realized how excited it made me as well.”
“You don't often come in my mouth,” I said, giggling.
“Too true.” He laughed with me. “You didn't mind, did you?”
“Not in the least.”
“Does that mean we can do this again sometime?”
My smile lit my face. “You're damned right we can. One last thing. Anytime you want to shop on the 'Net, you've got my wholehearted approval. Some things won't work out but lots will.”
“I want to try so many things.”
“Go for it, with my enthusiastic support. Maybe I'll do some toy shopping, too.”
Vivid Dreaming
I
GUESS IT'S ONE OF THE MEDICATIONS I'M TAKING. IT doesn't matter why I'm taking stuff; suffice it to say, I'm feeling great now. Anyway, something has caused me to have vivid dreams. Not nightmares, just really detailed, realistic dreams. I mean dreams that feel so real that it's difficult to accept that I'm awake afterward. Most are truly benign. I'm taking the kids to school, or I'm having dinner at Mac's parent's house. Like that. Not sexy, just . . . there. However . . .
I was in bed and really horny. It was deep winter and I was a little chilly, so I snuggled against Mac and enjoyed the feel of his warm, firm, sexy body against mine. Sexy body? It's the middle of the night and he's snoring away yet I'm thinking
sexy
. What the heck should I do?
First, I told myself I was dreaming, and I sort of knew I was. I opened my eyes and I was in the room I grew up in as a kid at my folks' house. But I was in a double bed, while my bed as a child was a single. And I felt like a teenager, not like a thirty-five-year-old stay-at-home mom.
I looked over and Mac was in the bed with me, although he looked like the Mac I had met almost eighteen years before. I smiled. What we wouldn't have given back then for a bed and time to enjoy it. I felt as horny and frustrated as I had back then, although I knew I was dreaming. Confusing.
Okay, so in my dream Mac woke up and rolled me over. I could hear his heavy breathing and I wondered whether it was from just being awakened or from arousal. I wanted it to be arousal. You can bet on that.
He grabbed me by the front of my nightgown and pulled my face to his. Again, I knew it was a dream. In the real world, I don't wear nightgowns. Maybe I should've wanted to wake up, but his lips felt so good. I love it when he's forceful and he made it plain that he wanted what he wanted, and what he wanted was me. Right then!
He tangled his fingers in my long hair (another indication that this wasn't real) and held my lips against his. He was rough, holding me tightly and not letting me move away, and I felt my nipples tighten until they were almost painful. And he didn't stop kissing me until I wanted to seize his hand and put in on my aching tits.
Eventually, he released me and bit my left nipple lightly. I wasn't even surprised that my nightgown had suddenly disappeared. He sucked and bit until I was driven almost to distraction. He moved from breast to breast, being aggressive and masterful, just the way I liked it. My nipples were wet from his mouth's ministrations. When I reached out to hold his face against me he grabbed my hands and held them over my head, still using his mouth on my tits.
My pussy was sopping by then, and I couldn't keep my thighs still. I rubbed my legs together to try to ease the pressure. Then his hand was there, stroking the insides of my thighs. Although I didn't think I could get more excited, the contrast between the gentle stroking and the hard sucking drove me higher still.
“Touch me, please,” I begged. I needed what I knew his fingers could do, and he knew it. I could hear his light chuckle. God, if only this weren't a dream. Mac hadn't been like this in years. Oh well . . . I vowed to enjoy the dream and masturbate afterward, if necessary.
His fingers found my clit and it took only a few caresses for me to come. The strength of the spasms surprised me. Hard. Long. So hot. My arousal diminished only slightly as his fingers continued to play with my clit. Had I come? I knew I had but my body was just as hot as it had been.
One finger entered my sopping pussy while his thumb rubbed my clit. I came again. I was sorry for that, since, on the few occasions that I've climaxed twice, I came down really fast.
Not so tonight, in this marvelous, realistic dream. I was still soooo hungry.
I started to reach for Mac, but he pushed my hand away. He wanted to do it all, and who was I to argue? His fingers played with my clit and my cunt lips while his teeth nibbled on my tits and his tongue wet my flesh.
With a low growl, Mac pushed me onto my stomach, grabbed my hips to raise my rear, then entered me from behind, doggie-style. He wasted no time on any more preliminaries, but pulled out, then plunged into me again, big and hard and so wonderful. I needed him so much and his cock filled me. He reached beneath me, pulled at my nipples and fingered my clit. I came yet a third time. I've never done that before.
“This is amazing. I can actually feel your climax,” he said, his voice hoarse. He continued to pound into me until he came, his dick deep inside me, pouring his jism into my body.
Panting, he rolled off of me and pulled me close against his side.
Please
, I thought,
I don't want to wake up yet.
“God, that was amazing,” I purred.
“It was that,” Mac rumbled.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. I was startled to see that it was my Mac, thirty-seven, hairline beginning to recede, a totally bemused look on his face. I glanced around. It was my bedroom in the house Mac and I had bought eight years ago.
Am I awake now?
I was totally confused. There was no denying that orgasm. I was leaking between my legs, making a wet spot on the bed.
“I loved that,” Mac said, his speech becoming slurred with impending sleep. “When you grabbed me from a sound sleep, it took only moments for me to get hard. Do that more often, will you?” He yawned and in moments I could hear his regular breathing become deeper and more even.
What had happened? Where had the dream ended and reality begun? I tried to figure it out, then decided that it didn't matter. Mac and I had just had some of the hottest sex we'd had since we were first married. Why overthink this? I just knew that the next time I woke up in the middle of the night I would grab him again and try to replay tonight. Wow!! How fabulous!
Shaving

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