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If you asked our friends and neighbors, “Hey, what kind of couple are Ingrid and Ben?”, I’m sure they’d all say, “Oh, they’re very nice, very quiet.” Just another dull suburbanite couple, laid-back and conservative.
Appearances, as they say, can be deceiving.
Maybe my friends would mention the fact that I’m a very attractive woman, the archetypical Scandinavian beauty, with pale, ice-blonde hair, china blue eyes, and flawless alabaster skin. But I wonder what they would think if they happened upon me sunbathing nude in my back yard-which I do all summer-and saw the rings that I wear in my pierced nipples, navel, and labia. Not the sort of thing a respectable housewife in her thirties is supposed to indulge in.
And if they knew how I celebrated my last birthday, with my husband and two other men taking turns at my mouth, pussy and asshole, fucking me for hours until I’d exhausted them all, they might think twice before inviting us to their next cook-out.
Ben and I don’t advertise our swinging lifestyle, and we’re very discreet around those who might feel uncomfortable knowing that Ben and I have had scores of sexual partners since our marriage. It might make for a bit more tension during those morning chats around the mailbox if you’re wondering if I fucked your husband while you were grocery shopping.
And so, if you saw me through the kitchen window on that cool April morning, whistling a merry tune and washing dishes, you’d think me just another boring housewife. Unless you watched for a few more seconds, and saw Ben sneak up behind me, and saw him pull up my T-shirt and fondle my be-ringed nipples. Then you might realize that Ozzie and Harriet we ain’t.
He toyed with me until my nipples were erect and aching. I thought eventually he’d yank down my sweats and we’d enjoy a nice, leisurely early-morning fuck on the kitchen counter. He pressed his erection against my ass and I waited for his hands to move from my breasts to my hips, waited for him to strip me and then plunge that hard cock inside me.
I thought that until I turned my head and saw Ben’s face over my shoulder looming over me, a devilish grin on his face and a pair of handcuffs dangling from an extended finger.
“Wanna have some fun?” he asked.
He held out his other hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“It’s a surprise.”
Ben told me what to wear, just sweats and hiking boots. I put on pink lipstick and got dressed, wearing just shirt, shorts, and boots, no bra and no panties, nothing complicated to slow him down. We walked out our back door and Ben took me by the hand and led me into the woods that border our back yard. It was very cool out, but I’m 100% Swedish and a little spring chill doesn’t bother me.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into the woods. There are miles and miles of trails through these woods, and Ben and I enjoy hiking and exploring. I adore making love outdoors, and we’ve found several spots that provide just the right mix of privacy, comfort and beauty to make our coupling extra-special. I hoped Ben was leading me to one of those magical places right now.
But he didn’t. After walking for about thirty minutes, Ben ignoring my demands to know where we were going, we trudged down a long, steep slope that opened up to a clearing. There was one tall, slender tree in the middle of the clearing, it’s bare branches rustling in the breeze. Sunlight broke clear and warm through it’s sparse canopy.
“It’s beautiful here,” I said.
“Beautiful, and very, very private,” Ben said. “You could scream and scream and no one would hear you.”
“Really?” I said, the excitement creeping into my voice.
He didn’t answer. He grabbed my wrist and half-dragged me to the tree. He yanked off my sweatshirt and tossed it aside. One of the cuffs came down and closed with a loud snap around my wrist. He pulled me hard until my tits were pressed tight against the smooth bark of the tree, and cuffed my other wrist around the trunk. I was trapped, my arms looped around the tree, my hands cuffed on the other side.
I was on fire. I was soaking wet between my legs. I love fucking outdoors. I love it when I’m tied up. I love it when Ben fucks me like a whore. He yanked down my shorts and tossed them over with my shirt. I spread my legs, waiting for the penetration I so desperately craved. My nipples were pink and stiff, from lust more than the cold. I turned my head and saw Ben pulling off his own clothes, his eyes burning into mine. I saw his huge cock bobbing in front of him and I bit my lip, knowing how good this was going to be.
Ben pressed himself against me like he had in the kitchen, his cock a spike pressing against my ass. He kissed my neck savagely, his hands pulling at the rings looped in my nipples. I was panting now, waiting for that delicious moment when he entered me. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” I chanted.
He didn’t fuck me. He stepped back. I snapped my head around to see Ben stagger back, his face grey, his erection going soft poker oyna before my eyes. “Honey, what is it?” I said, hysteria creeping into my voice. He looked like he was having a heart attack.
“Oh, shit,” he said. He managed a weak smile. “I just thought of something.”
“The keys. To the handcuffs. They’re, um, they’re sitting on the kitchen table.”
I gave him a look that probably should have given him a heart attack. “You’re kidding.”
“Tell me you’re kidding me.”
“You idiot!” I yelled. I thought about my predicament. We were 30 minutes from home. An hour round trip. An hour I’d have to spend chained to this goddam tree.
“I’ll run back to the house, I’ll get the keys, I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Sure, the next hour will pass lickety-split.”
Ben managed a weak smile. “We could, you know, do it before I go.”
“Honey, unless you get back here in record time, we’re not going to, you know, do it, for a year.”
“Wait! Give me my clothes!”
He picked them up from where he’d tossed them. And where he tossed them was a foot-deep mud hole. My clothes were smeared brown with cold dirty water.
“Um,” he said.
“Go! And bring me back something to wear! You idiot!”
He left, at a sprint. I watched him go up the hill, around the corner, and then he was gone.
It was actually a beautiful morning, cool and crisp, and the sun felt especially good on my face and my nipples. Even though I was nervous about my predicament I was still very turned on. I was afraid someone might come by and see me, but that idea actually revved me up even more. I was totally helpless, and while that wasn’t a good thing if a bear wandered by, the idea of some hunky woodsman sauntering past and seeing me nude and shackled made me spread my legs wider. I wanted to touch myself, and I couldn’t. “Goddam you Ben,” I said bitterly.
I was still picturing my fantasy flannel-clad lumberjack coming to ravish me when I heard it, the “clat, clat, clatter” of metal-on-metal. I whirled around, trying to determine where the sound was coming from. I squatted down as best I could, even though in the clearing I was as conspicuous as a bear walking on the freeway.
A man on a mountain bike came flying down the hill. He wore a dark green helmet, wrap-around sunglasses, and a white T-shirt and black Lycra shorts. He pedaled right past me, eyes facing forward, and I thought he missed me. And then his head slowly turned to the right, his eyes took me in, and he braked so hard he almost flew over the handlebars.
“Oh, shoot,” I said.
He hopped off the bike just ten yards away from me. He was very well-made, quite tall, with muscular arms and legs. He unsnapped the strap of his helmet and pulled it off and I saw a mass of thick brown hair. “So far, so very good,” I said to myself, figuring if someone had to catch me in this exposed state, he might as well be a stud.
Then he took off his sunglasses and I saw his face and brown eyes that were wide as saucers and I gasped. He said, “Mrs. Torsten?”
Oh, shit. My “rescuer” was Adam, a boy who lives down the street. I’ve known him since he was in fifth grade. If I’d though Ben was having a heart attack when he remembered he forgot the keys, I thought Adam was having a stroke. His head jerked up and down, left and right, as he looked at my tits and my pussy and my handcuffed wrists. His jaw hung open and I could tell he was pretty deep in shock. “Mrs. Torsten? What…how did this happen? Are you OK, how did you get like this, who…what…”
The poor boy would have babbled like that all day if I hadn’t interrupted. I smiled at him in what I hoped was a soothing manner and I said, “Adam, I’m OK. Mr. Torsten and I were playing a little game, we forgot the keys, and he went to get them. I’m fine, everything is fine. Don’t worry.”
“But…Mr. Torsten did this to you?”
I kept my smile bright and calm. “We were just playing a little game, just goofing around, and as you can see things got a little bit…silly.”
He was overwhelmed, and I can’t say I blamed him. Out for a bike ride and he comes across his sexy blonde neighbor nude and cuffed around a tree. Not something you just shrug off.
I said, “Adam, I’m a little embarrassed right now.”
He nodded, his jaw still hanging open. “Can I trust you not to tell anyone about this? I mean, it would really be embarrassing if everyone knew about this. I would be really upset if you told anyone.”
He shook his head, still looking like a deer caught in headlights. And right now all he had eyes for were my headlights. “No, no, I won’t tell anyone, no.”
“Could you stop staring at my breasts?” I actually didn’t mind, I was even a little turned on, but I thought I shouldn’t encourage him.
The poor boy flushed bright red and averted his eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just, I never…”
“Never what? Never seen a woman naked before?”
“Yes. canlı poker oyna I mean, no. I’ve seen women naked before, but just on the Internet or in movies.” His face became even more crimson. “Please don’t tell my mom I look at naked women on the Internet.”
He was a cutie. “I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me.”
He managed a sickly smile. “I’ve never seen a woman with…what you have…on your…” he couldn’t say the word.
“With her nipples pierced.”
He nodded. “I didn’t know women did that.”
“Mmm-hmm. Not too bad, though. Not as bad as some of the other places I had done.”
“You have more?” he said, incredulous.
“My belly button.” His eyes flashed toward my navel for a millisecond. “And…other places.”
“Places I don’t want you looking at.” That could only mean one place, and doggone it if his eyes didn’t immediately flash at my pussy. “Adam!” I said, suppressing a giggle.
“No you’re not. You’re a boy, I guess you can’t help yourself.” And I couldn’t help myself, either. I was turned on, I couldn’t deny it any more. He was a handsome boy, and the fact that he was a boy, not a man, was actually getting me hotter. I enjoy having young men check me out, but I’d never thought about seducing one of the neighborhood boys. A few of the men Ben and I have met swinging have been in their early twenties, but Adam was just a kid, a teen-ager.
And, I realized, a virgin, since the only naked women he’d seen we’re two-dimensional. That did it. The idea of deflowering this boy flipped a switch inside me. I suddenly, urgently, desperately wanted him. It was crazy, insane. I had to have him. I thought about Ben, coming back with the key, to find me sweaty and exhausted, the semen of Adam’s first ejaculation dripping down my legs. It would serve him right.
That’s all the justification I needed to set about seducing an 18-year-old boy. A boy I couldn’t actually touch. This would be a challenge. And I LOVE a challenge.
“Do you want my shirt?” Adam asked, wanting to help me in some way, to make up for his peeping. In a second he shucked his T-shirt and offered it to me, his flat stomach only making me hotter and hotter.
I wiggled my wrists. “I can’t put it on, honey. But thank you. I’d ask you to lend my your shorts, but then you’d be telling me not to stare at you instead of the other way around.”
He looked away again. I could see his cock jutting out against the tight stretchy Lycra, and it was a sizable bulge. I licked my lips. “Are you thirsty?” Adam asked.
I was, and I admitted it. “Here…” he went to his bike and pulled the water bottle from the cage. “Um, I…”
“Just squirt some in my mouth.”
He had to come close to me, very close, right next to me. He lifted the bottle and a slow stream of water flowed into my mouth. His right arm touched my shoulder, and he shuddered. I sipped at the water and glanced over at him. He was staring at my breasts again. I was so wet, so excited, I thought for sure he would be able to smell my pussy.
I had an idea. I pulled my mouth away, and he spilled a few ounces of water on my chin. It dribbled down my neck, between my breasts, down to my belly. My nipples were so hard they ached. “Oh, I’m sorry!” he said.
“It’s cold!” I said, irritated. “Do you have anything to dry me off?”
“Just dry me off, OK honey?”
I knew this would break him. There was no way he could keep his head on straight if he touched me. He was standing just behind my left shoulder. He took his shirt and lightly dabbed at my chin, at my throat. He was trembling as he slid the shirt down my cleavage. The soft cotton fabric of the shirt brushed my nipples and the friction was so delicious that I arched my back. He moved his hand down, down, down, to my stomach. I was panting. I spread my legs wider.
“Oh, God…” Adam whimpered. He dropped the shirt. He moved it close behind me and cupped my breasts in his hands. I could feel his warm, humid breath on my back. “Oh, God!” His voice was a strangled whisper. He was outside himself, consumed with lust, his mind overcome by the needs of his body. I said nothing. He just cupped my breasts, feeling their weight. He leaned down, the bare skin of his chest touching my bare back. His lips brushed my neck, and then he softly kissed my shoulders. He kissed his way across my back, and then he buried his face in my hair, and I felt him take long, deep breath through his nose, inhaling my scent.
I felt drops raining on my shoulder. He was crying. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn’t help myself.” He withdrew his hands and stepped back.
“Adam,” I said sternly.
“Yes?” His voice was a whisper of despair.
“Stand right there,” I ordered, motioning with my head right in front of me. He obeyed, his eyes on the dirt. His eyes were red with tears.
“Put your hands on my breasts again.”
His head jerked internet casino up. “What?”
He did, gingerly reaching out to touch me. “Touch the rings you were so curious about.”
“Mrs. Torsten, I can’t. I’m so sorry I did that, it was so wrong…”
“Adam.” My voice brooked no argument. “Use your fingers. I want you to. Touch me with your fingers.”
He did, gently at first, his fingertips lightly brushing my nipples. I writhed under his touch, a cord seemingly going straight from my tits to my pussy. I rubbed my legs together, anything to get some friction down there. Adam wasn’t crying anymore, he was thunderstruck at what he was doing. I stared at him, my eyes narrow and burning with lust. I bit my lip and moaned. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” I whispered.
“I dream about you,” Adam said. “I dream about you, about how beautiful you are. About what I’d like to…do with you.”
“That makes me feel good, honey, that you think I’m pretty.”
He shook his head like a zombie. “You aren’t pretty,” he said, worshipping my body with his eyes, “you’re beautiful, so beautiful, but I didn’t have any clue how beautiful you were. Until now.”
His tentatively tugged at the ring at my left nipple and I made a noise. “Did that hurt you,” he said, alarmed.
“No!” I moaned.
He kept doing it, gently pulling the rings, thumbing my nipples, caressing my breasts. “Adam,” I said, “you’re making me burn…”
“Mrs. Torsten, what am I supposed to do?” he whispered.
“First of all, call me Ingrid.”
“Second, lean down, and put my nipples in your mouth. Suck on them. Adam. Do it now. Do it now. Come on.” He looked petrified. “Suck on them.”
He did. Oh my God. Oh my God. His eager young mouth covered my right nipple and his lips massaged the flesh around my aureole and his tongue snaked around my nipple ring and batted it back and forth. I threw my head back and my blonde hair flowed down my back and I began moaning, moaning, not caring if anyone could hear me.
He switched to my left nipple, sucking on it with unabashed enthusiasm now, his fingers manipulating my moist right nipple. I couldn’t bear it any longer, the burning in my loins.
He jerked back and stood up. “Did I do something wrong?”
I think he could tell by the expression on my face that he’d done a good job. “Take your shorts off.”
He started breathing harder, faster. “Mrs. Torsten,” he said, forgetting I’d told him to call me Ingrid, “I can’t. What if your husband comes back?”
“He’s at least a half-hour away. And I wouldn’t care if he was standing right here. I don’t want him. I only want you. I only want your penis inside me. I want it now.”
He was shaking his head. “I’ve dreamed about doing this, with you. But…I can’t. It wouldn’t be right, the way you are right now, all tied up…”
“Adam, look at me. Look what you’ve done to me. You have to take your shorts off.”
He started pulling them down, but he stopped. “I want to, I want to more than anything else in the world.”
“But you’re scared?”
He nodded weakly. I said, “I was scared my first time too. But once you start, you won’t be. Adam. I know you want to fuck me. I want to fuck you too. I want you. I want you right now. I want your cock inside me, I want you to feel how wet you’ve made me, I want to feel your hard cock between my thighs, I want…”
He frantically pulled his shorts down. His penis was big and pink and beautiful. He had a wild look in his eye, no doubt matching the look in my own. I was a bitch in heat.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Get behind me. Hurry!” He did. “Touch me, between my legs. Touch me.” I felt his fingers dip into my soaking wet petals. “Feel how warm I am, feel how wet you’ve made me. Move your fingers up…up…feel them?”
“Yes…” he hissed, playing with the rings I have in my labia. He didn’t tug so hard on them as he did my nipple rings. His fingers brushed my clit again and again I broke out in goosebumps. “Move your hand down, honey. Down…down…down…feel that?”
“Uh-huh,” He was breathing like a sprinter as his fingers explored my opening. I felt a finger invade me and it was like giving a starving woman one grape. I wanted more, I had to have more. Now.
“Adam. Put yourself inside me. Put your cock where your finger was.” I felt his penis searching out for my hole, but it was hard, he was six feet tall, I’m only five-four, and the angle was hard. But the ground immediately around the tree sloped up, and I took a few tiny steps forward, gaining a few valuable inches, until I was straddling the tree and Adam was probing me.
“OK, you got it, come on, come on…slowly, slowly…that’s it…that’s it…do you feel it? You have the right spot…now push…push…push…” He thrust his cock inside me and a shock wave of ecstasy pulsated through my body. “Oh, thank God,” I groaned, my hungry pussy finally with something to grip and squeeze.
“Oh, wait, wait…” he mumbled. “Oh!” He slowly, very slowly, pulled back, and I felt the hardness withdrawn from my pussy. Then he thrust back inside, and I groaned with pleasure. He pulled out and pushed back in, pulled out and pushed in, slowly, very slowly, and I loved every second.
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