matter what he’d told her like a bragging moron.
She let out a little yelp. “Do it again.
When you bury your cock inside me all the way, it makes me tingle.”
No surprise there. With every stroke, he
deliberately rubbed his pubic bone against her swollen clit. He stretched up
and sucked on her throat as he fucked her. He’d make her come now before he
couldn’t wait any longer.
As his own climax built he realized that
he’d underestimated how arousing having Lanie tied up and begging him to fuck
her would be. Please God, help me push her over the edge.
“Yes. That feels so…it’s too much for
words.” Lanie broke away from her silken bonds and clutched his shoulders. Her
nails dug into his skin but he didn’t care. He felt her squirt around his cock
and let go, gathering her as close as he could while he kept pounding until the
last of their mutual spasms ceased.
He’d found his perfect submissive. Next
time, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, he’d introduce her to some simple
toys so her first trip to the club wouldn’t come as a shock.
* * * * *
On Monday Lanie drove back to Plant City
after finishing her office appointments, hoping to touch base with Wayne. She
had to let him know she’d filed today for dissolution of marriage in spite of
Bert’s veiled threats.
The only person who could hurt me if
Bert spreads his vile stories is JD—and JD says he doesn’t care. She had a hard time believing the campaign manager would kill the
goose who laid his golden eggs—that would be Wayne—and anything detrimental
that Bert said about her would cause serious, maybe irreparable damage to
Wayne’s political career.
Despite what Wayne might think, Lanie
didn’t imagine his lover would be exactly thrilled to take their relationship
public. After all, according to what Wayne had mentioned in his rare references
to the man, his master was a prominent Tampa businessman.
In any case, Bert wouldn’t have gone quite
so ballistic at the idea of Wayne divorcing her if he hadn’t broached the
subject of coming out in practically the same breath. Maybe if she talked to
Wayne, he could calm Bert down…
Pleasantly sore and feeling sensitive in
all her most intimate spots, Lanie parked the car in the garage next to
Wayne’s, got out and went into the house, but he wasn’t inside. That wasn’t a
surprise, as he went somewhere with his nameless lover several nights of every
week, or met the man here in the guesthouse whenever no political events had
been scheduled.
As she often did when she needed to discuss
something with Wayne, she wrote him a note and left it pinned on the
refrigerator door with a smiley face magnet that seemed out of place in light
of the direction their arrangement was taking. From her bedroom window she saw
that the guesthouse lights were blazing brightly.
Of course. Wayne was here after all,
spending some time in his built-in dungeon with Mr. Anonymous—his master in
BDSM lingo.
Maybe I’ll go drag him out of there and
talk to him now, before I lose my nerve , she
thought. Instead of charging downstairs, though, she moved closer to her window,
hoping to verify that Wayne was there. It was possible he was there alone, or…
When she glanced out the window she saw
them, but there was no way she was going over to confront them now. She didn’t
know and didn’t want to know exactly who it was Wayne was playing with, which
was good because the man had on a full-face hood with holes only for his eyes.
About to turn away, she paused, her gaze
held by some macabre fascination about why this Dom meant so much to Wayne that
he risked his career by playing with him here, where someone might see. Where
she or Bert or any reporters who might stake out the place for a scoop could
get an eyeful.
Until last weekend she’d known nothing at
all about BDSM…not that she knew anything now, except the bits and pieces JD
had exposed her to. Nothing like what she was seeing now.
Carefully,
She let out a little yelp. “Do it again.
When you bury your cock inside me all the way, it makes me tingle.”
No surprise there. With every stroke, he
deliberately rubbed his pubic bone against her swollen clit. He stretched up
and sucked on her throat as he fucked her. He’d make her come now before he
couldn’t wait any longer.
As his own climax built he realized that
he’d underestimated how arousing having Lanie tied up and begging him to fuck
her would be. Please God, help me push her over the edge.
“Yes. That feels so…it’s too much for
words.” Lanie broke away from her silken bonds and clutched his shoulders. Her
nails dug into his skin but he didn’t care. He felt her squirt around his cock
and let go, gathering her as close as he could while he kept pounding until the
last of their mutual spasms ceased.
He’d found his perfect submissive. Next
time, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, he’d introduce her to some simple
toys so her first trip to the club wouldn’t come as a shock.
* * * * *
On Monday Lanie drove back to Plant City
after finishing her office appointments, hoping to touch base with Wayne. She
had to let him know she’d filed today for dissolution of marriage in spite of
Bert’s veiled threats.
The only person who could hurt me if
Bert spreads his vile stories is JD—and JD says he doesn’t care. She had a hard time believing the campaign manager would kill the
goose who laid his golden eggs—that would be Wayne—and anything detrimental
that Bert said about her would cause serious, maybe irreparable damage to
Wayne’s political career.
Despite what Wayne might think, Lanie
didn’t imagine his lover would be exactly thrilled to take their relationship
public. After all, according to what Wayne had mentioned in his rare references
to the man, his master was a prominent Tampa businessman.
In any case, Bert wouldn’t have gone quite
so ballistic at the idea of Wayne divorcing her if he hadn’t broached the
subject of coming out in practically the same breath. Maybe if she talked to
Wayne, he could calm Bert down…
Pleasantly sore and feeling sensitive in
all her most intimate spots, Lanie parked the car in the garage next to
Wayne’s, got out and went into the house, but he wasn’t inside. That wasn’t a
surprise, as he went somewhere with his nameless lover several nights of every
week, or met the man here in the guesthouse whenever no political events had
been scheduled.
As she often did when she needed to discuss
something with Wayne, she wrote him a note and left it pinned on the
refrigerator door with a smiley face magnet that seemed out of place in light
of the direction their arrangement was taking. From her bedroom window she saw
that the guesthouse lights were blazing brightly.
Of course. Wayne was here after all,
spending some time in his built-in dungeon with Mr. Anonymous—his master in
BDSM lingo.
Maybe I’ll go drag him out of there and
talk to him now, before I lose my nerve , she
thought. Instead of charging downstairs, though, she moved closer to her window,
hoping to verify that Wayne was there. It was possible he was there alone, or…
When she glanced out the window she saw
them, but there was no way she was going over to confront them now. She didn’t
know and didn’t want to know exactly who it was Wayne was playing with, which
was good because the man had on a full-face hood with holes only for his eyes.
About to turn away, she paused, her gaze
held by some macabre fascination about why this Dom meant so much to Wayne that
he risked his career by playing with him here, where someone might see. Where
she or Bert or any reporters who might stake out the place for a scoop could
get an eyeful.
Until last weekend she’d known nothing at
all about BDSM…not that she knew anything now, except the bits and pieces JD
had exposed her to. Nothing like what she was seeing now.
Carefully,
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