Message-ID: <41049asstr$1046164203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Bluepen <bluepen43@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Possession Chapter 2 (MF, Cheat, Oral, Bond, Public)
Date: Tue, 25 Feb 2003 04:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

The next several days were like a strange dream.  He had gone home and
slept with his wife, making it seem like nothing was wrong.  During his
lunch he went shopping, thinking of her and finding a book she would
love, but picking up a book his wife would like instead.  That night he
made love to his wife, the image of his lover intruding on him again
and again as he thrust into his wife.  He finished and lay awake as his
wife slept soundly, satisfied.  He was physically satisfied, but could
not fall asleep, the thought of her green eyes boring into his as he
fucked her filled his mind.  
	Finally, with a sigh, he got up and went downstairs and sat on the
couch, looking at the wind move the branches on the trees as the wind
blew and the rain came down.  Where was she now and what was she doing,
he wondered.

	Darkness was a comfort to her.  She was alone in the kitchen, her
family asleep upstairs.  It was too late to call him, or was it?  She
remembered his cell phone and dialed.  It was late, almost eleven, but
maybe... 
	It rang four times before he answered in a hushed voice.
	"Hello," he said.
	"It's me.  Are, are you alone?" she asked.
	"More than you could imagine."
	She was sick to her stomach at her weakness in calling him, but
ecstatic to hear his voice.
	"I, I'm sorry, but, I had to talk to you, hear your voice..."
	"Well, I'm glad you called," he said, looking up the stairs.  No
lights.
	They were silent for a moment.  
	"What we did," she began, "I, I just, just don't know what to say."
	"Have you talked to him?"
	"No, I can't.  I just don't know how."
	He was silent for a moment, rubbing his forehead with his hand.  
	"I, I need you," she said.  "I hate myself, but I need you."
	"I need you too."
	"Let me call you tomorrow," she said.  He thought she may have been
crying.  She hung up before he could say anything more.  He hung up too
and laid his phone down, falling asleep there in the chair.  He woke up
with a stiff neck at about 4 AM and climbed up the steps again and into
bed with his sleeping, ignorant wife.
	The day dragged and he reacted to every phone call all morning, but
she did not call.  He knew better than to try to call her at work; she
was a teacher.  Calling her at home was out of the question.  He left
the office and was just entering a small deli when his cell phone rang.
 He stepped outside and took the call.
	"Hello?"
	"It's me.  I have a break."
	"Oh, hi."
	"Is it a good time?"
	"Uh, yeah, sure."
	"Well, I was thinking and we have a day off next week.  Do you?"
	"Yeah, we do, but the wife has to work."
	"I thought so."
	"Where, I mean, do you...?"
	"No, I mean, yes, I, I need it."
	"Ok, call me."
	
	The rest of the day was a blur.  He could not have remembered it if he
tried.  It was as though he were possessed by the thought of her touch,
her smell.  At the end of the day he walked to his car.  There, sitting
in her car nearby she was, watching him.  He stopped and stared for a
moment and then she smiled and waved for him to get into his car.  He
did and followed her for a distance, when she drove into a parking
garage and took a ticket.  It was a large one near the sports arena.
	Once inside she led him on a dizzying ride up to the top level of the
nearly empty garage.  She parked in an empty corner and he parked next
to her car.  He sat there for a moment then, his heart racing. 
Finally, he got out, his heart in his throat, his knees weak, as he
walled over to her car's passenger side.  The door unlocked and he got
in and looked at her.  She was flushed a little, he eyes a little wild.
 The top buttons on her blouse were undone, showing her tits a little.
	"I wasn't expecting this," he said.
	"I know, but I found out he would be home late, so, I took a chance
that you would want to..."
	"Was there ever any question?" he asked.
	She shook her head and they kissed, a deep, passionate kiss, his hand
going to her breast, squeezing it.  She groaned and her hand went to
his crotch, probing for him.  He dropped his hand to her lap, finding
her skirt had ridden up.  
	"Wait," she said, pulling away and then pushing her seat all the way
back and leaning her seat back some.  He did the same, almost shaking,
he was so excited.  She lifted her skirt then, displaying black
panties, which she pulled off.  He kissed her then, as she undid her
blouse more, exposing her black bra, pulling it up so her tits came
free.  He leaned down and sucked on he left tit, his hand slipping
between her legs, which he could feel shake as he did so.  
	"Oh, you... you, I, oh," she muttered and moaned as he stroked her pussy
with his hand.  He looked up at her and then kissed her hard as he
slipped two fingers into her cunt and she came with a guttural cry
through his kiss.  He pulled his fingers out of her then and put them
in her mouth, making her suck her juices off.  Her eyes widened, but
she licked them clean.  
	"Get out of the car," he said, opening his car door.  He got out and
went around and opened the door, taking her arm and pulling her out
gently.  She stumbled a little then, her eyes a little glazed.  
"What, what are you going to do?"
"Fuck you," he growled and the, leading her around the back of the car
he turned her around and pulled her dress u0p.  Her round, white ass
was smooth and flawless as he ran his hands over it.  She moaned as he
unzipped his pants and slipped his hard cock out, pressing it into her
wet slit.
"Oh, fuck!" he said as he entered he wet slit, his cock enveloped by
her hot cunt.  He fucked her then, hard and fast, his hands grasping
her hips as she cried out and moaned.  There was no finesse or care in
his fucking, just hard, pounding fucking, his cock entering her to the
hilt as she groaned and grasped at the hood of the car.
"I'm coming!" he cried as he felt his cock swell and his balls suck up
to his cock, his cum shooting into her hot love tunnel as he emptied
himself into her.  She cried out as he groaned and gasped, his legs
shaking as he finished.  Finally he pulled out, eliciting a moan from
her.  She turned around and he took her hair and pushed his cock,
covered with their juices, into her mouth, making her lick it clean. 
Finally he let her stand and she leaned against the car, disheveled,
her blouse open and her tits almost free, her hair mussed.  
"You fucker," she said, looking at him as he zipped up.  "You are quite
a fucker, you know that?"
He smiled and nodded.  "And you are quite a fuck."
"So, I had better go," she said in a small voice, pulling her bra and
blouse back into place and buttoning it.  A car entered and they
watched it drive by.  
"Yeah, you had better," he said, pulling her to him and kissing her.  
She pulled back then, her face flushed.
"I, I shouldn't do this, you know," she said, grimacing.  "It's bad,
wrong..."
She trailed off, looking down.
"And good," he said, grinning.
Without a word she nodded and got in her car and drove off.  He watched
her leave and then sat in his car for a while before leaving himself.

She tortured herself the next few days, letting her husband do whatever
he wanted to her.  He used her, entering her hungrily as she lay there,
pounding her until he filled her, no foreplay, no finesse.  She let him
push his cock into her mouth as she peed in the bathroom, gagging her
with, cuming on her face, her tits.  She masturbated while he watched,
which he loved, then let him cum in her from behind on the bed.  By
Sunday afternoon her cunt was sore from his fucking and fingering, her
tits tender.  
Monday she called him after work.  He answered on the first ring.
"How are you?" he asked.  She told him what they had done, everything
she had done that weekend, what she had let him do to her.  Was he
disgusted?
"No, jealous.  I want to see you."
He was leaving Wednesday and would be gone for several days.  How about
Wednesday night?  He agreed, smiling at what he had planned for her.

The place was the apartment of a single friend who was out of town for
a month.  He was feeding the cat for him.  She arrived a little late,
nervous and pale.  He let her in and offered her a drink, which she
took and gulped down, grimacing.  She wore her usual, a dress, this one
dark blue with a bow at the neck, modest and feminine, but showing her
womanly traits well at the same time.  He liked it.
"Here," he said, handing her a blindfold..  He had purchased plastic
sheets and a set of black linens for the bed and put them on.  A bag of
goodies sat by the bed, ready for her.  He has taken a shower and put
on a black robe he had purchased.  
She stood there in the strange house and looked at him, a new look in
her eyes.
"I'm, I don't know..."
"Put it on."
She looked down at it and then at him and put it on.  He helped, making
sure it was snug.  He put his arm around her shoulders then and let her
into the bedroom, where he lay her on the bed and took her arms,
putting the fur-lined cuffs on her as she trembled, tying her hands to
the headboard.  Without undressing her he ran his hands over her body,
smelling her, licking her neck.  She wore pantyhose and he ran his
hands up, under her dress, between her legs as she groaned, feeling the
heat of her cunt at the top of her thighs.  She whimpered as he rubbed
it through her panties and the hose.  Her back arching to meet his
caress she sighed and spread her legs wider.
He stood then, slipping the robe off, revealing his naked, hairy body
and hard cock.  Smiling, he climbed between he legs and spread them,
then, positioning his cock over he nylon clad cunt dry-humped her,
rubbing and enjoying her whimpers and shaking as he stimulated himself.
 
"You like that, don't you?" he whispered into her ear.
"Oh, yes, you, you... fucker... you nasty..."
He pulled back then, kneeling between her legs and lifted her dress up
to her waist and grabbed the top of her hose and pulled, taking her
underpants with them, revealing her white skin and cunt.  He threw them
on the floor and ran his hands over her thighs, not touching her cunt,
but caressing her up and down.  Out of the bag he brought a feather, a
long, white feather.  He held it close to her pink, wet cunt, then
slowly, slowly stroked her clit with it, making sigh and cry out as he
did.  He continued it, running it over her belly, her thighs, back to
her clit, where he swirled it around, then up and down.  She was
writhing now, her legs spread wider and wider, flat on the bed as she
trembled.
"Please, oh, please, fuck it, fuck me... I, I can't take this..." she
pleaded as he continued the torture for a while more.  Then he stopped
and got up, taking the scarves the wrapping them around her legs,
spreading them wide and tying them to the footboard.  She whimpered the
ground her hips, needing more stimulation.  
He climbed between her legs then, pushing her dress up more, revealing
her bra, which he pushed up to reveal her tits.  With the feather again
he began working on her nipples, rubbing it slowly over the pink nubs,
bringing them to full dilation, eliciting more groans and moans,
pleasing to his ears, as were he pleadings for more direct stimulation.
 
Finally, he relented and put the feather aside.  
"This is the best part," he said, pulling a bottle from the bag and
pouring oil on her.  He rubbed it in to her tits, her belly, her legs,
avoiding her cunt and her nipples.  She sighed and cried out as her
massaged her with the oil  
"You fucker, you are killing me!" she cried. "My cunt is on fire, you
fucker!"
"I know... I want you to want it..."
"I want you!  Only you!  Now, now fuck it!"
He poured the oil on himself then, rubbing it into his chest, his
belly, his legs, his cock, his arms.  Without a word he climbed over
her, not touching her, but covering her body with his.  With a slow,
deliberate motion he pushed his cock against her swollen, tender, wet
cunt.  She cried out as he did so, his cock spreading her cunt lips as
he pushed it into her, his body still above hers.  He pushed it in,
feeling the heat of her, the intense, internal heat of her pussy,
sucking him in, wrapping his cock in her flesh.  Finally he arched his
back all the way and pressed himself into and on her, in to the hilt as
her body arched up against him.  
"Oh, mymmmm, oh, godddd!" she cried out, hoarsely as he pulled out and
then reentered her, his mouth descending to hers as his body made
contact with hers, their oiled torsos mating, his hands grabbing her
hair and pulling it as he ground his pubic bone against hers.  Slowly,
still kissing her, pulling just a little on her hair, he ground his
cock into her, in and out, in and out, meeting her upward thrusts as he
worked her toward her peak.
"Uh, oh, ah, uh... you you, oh, god, I don't believe... I can't!!" and she
screamed then, his name her hands and legs jerking at the bonds, making
the bead creak as she came, his cock pounding into her now, nearing his
own completion.  
"Fuck me!  Fuck me hard!" she cried as he lifted himself up and pounded
into her with all his weight, finally reaching his peak, filling her
with his hot, white load of cum.   She cried then and he held her head
and kissed her, licked her tears from her cheeks, kissing her neck and
her mouth.  Slowly, he raised himself and pulled out, his cock slowly
shrinking.  
She was silent, her body quiescent as he looked down at her, covered in
sweat, oil and cum.  He stood and carefully removed the leg restraints
and then undid the handcuffs.  She lay there, her body limp, breath
coming in little puffs.  
"Are you going to be OK?" he asked.
"No, never again," she said, slowly turning on her side.  
"I'll be in the living room.  The bathroom is through the door," he
said.  With that he left her.  She lay there for a long time, she
thought, but finally took off the blindfold and went into the bathroom.
 It was a while before she could get dressed, but finally did.
He was asleep in the chair in the living room.  She looked at him for a
moment and then, without another word, left him there.


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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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