Keeping It Up with the Joneses

by N. S. Johnson

  She couldn’t feel proud. She couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t move. Until she heard a sound in the corner.

  She’d thought she was alone, but she was wrong. In a dark corner of the room, she heard the unmistakable sounds of sex.

  It felt like forever before her head turned into the direction of the sounds. Unfortunately, she couldn’t turn her head away fast enough.

  Her Master was fucking her Mistress.

  He had his glorious cock deep in her cunt. She could’ve gone over and joined them, but she couldn’t move. She was no longer bound, but her body was spent. Her Mistress looked over at her. Master thrust into Mistress. Mistress threw her head back, smiling as her orgasm took her.

  Like she said, The Bitch was very creative with her punishments.

  The Pegging

  Mr. Smith pulled into his driveway the next Monday morning. He hadn’t partaken in many of the festivities at the house party, but the job of hosting sex parties was always an ordeal. He had to monitor everyone’s behavior, make sure consent was always in play, and he also had to watch the Jones’ family toy be used and abused without laying a single finger on her.

  His wife had been pretty pissed when the little minx had found them. But Jones knew it was a game between the two women. He also knew he wasn’t the mouse in the middle of the two pussy cats. They liked going at each other.

  Toy loved to misbehave to get the attention she craved. His wife loved to punish her to get the dominance and submission she craved. Standing in the middle of the two women brought him nothing but pleasure.

  Except tonight.

  Jones entered the kitchen to find it dark. The dishes were away. No warm meal awaited him. For all her eschewing of traditional roles, his wife loved to cook. Food was her love language and the fact that there was nothing out for him, nothing in Tupperware containers in the fridge, and nothing frozen to heat up in the oven, told him that he was still in deep shit for playing with that particular toy without her permission.

  He sighed and set down his brief case preparing himself to submit to whatever form of punishment his wife had in store for him. He’d had a great day at work. He’d fucked Andrea in the conference room after lunch. He’d flirted with a twenty-something kid in the mail room. And there was a new intern he was slowly but surely reeling in.

  He’d gotten his fill of pleasure for the day. He was prepared to take whatever pain Mrs. Jones was ready to beat into him.

  Walking through the living room towards the stairs he saw their toy standing naked in the entrance to the dungeon. She dropped to her knees at the sight of him.

  Jones walked over and lifted her chin. Her mouth was in line with his cock. Her eyes dipped to it with open hunger. Jones left his dick safely tucked in his pants.

  “Did you behave yourself today?” he asked.

  Her lush, suck-me lips spread into a devious grin. “No, Master.”

  “Do you want another punishment?”

  “If you think it’ll help me be good, Master.”

  “What I want you to do is go to bed. Don’t touch yourself. If you do, I’ll know. Then tomorrow, I want you to be the best little girl for your Mistress. If you’re not a good girl, I’ll with hold your orgasms for a week.”

  She squeaked at the thought of going without pleasure and dropped her head. “Yes, Master. I’ll be good.”

  “Good girl.” He patted her head like she was a puppy. When they were at their old place, he’d had a collar fashioned for her. He wasn’t sure if they’d packed it or if Mrs. Jones had gotten rid of it.

  Toy rose and padded to her bedroom; the spare one at the end of the hall. Of course she put a swivel in her hips. The woman was incorrigible.

  Mr. Jones stepped out of his shoes and placed them on the rack in the hall. He padded up the stairs to the second floor on bare, quiet feet. He loosened his tie along the way.

  She was in bed when he opened the door. She was wearing a nightie and held a book in front of her face. Fuck, she really was pissed. When was the last time she wore anything to bed?

  He knew what he had to do.

  He finished undressing in front of her. She didn’t stir or look up from her book. He went over to their toy chest and took out a ten inch dildo and a harness.

  He dropped them on the bed, and then he stood by his side of the bed. He didn’t make another move. He stood naked, head down, patiently waiting for her.

  That got her attention. She peered over the top of her book at his offering. Then she gazed up at him.

  Now that he had her attention, he lifted his head and climbed on the bed. He turned around and put his hands on the head board. Bending over, he presented his ass to her.

  He heard the swish of papers as she closed the book. He heard ruffling of fabric as she removed the nightie. He heard the thwap of leather on skin as she hoisted the harness around her hips. Then he heard the clang of metal as she strapped the harness on. And finally, he heard a click as the dildo locked into place.

  He took a deep breath and consciously relaxed his lower half. As he relaxed he could almost feel that bundle of nerves in his prostate jump for joy that they were about to get some attention. His wife loved to peg him in the ass, but he would readily admit that he loved it to.

  He felt the warm, wet oil dripping down his crack, and he closed his eyes. There was a power exchange when a woman thrust her body, even with the aide of a sex toy, into a man’s.

  For a man, sex was always about his dick. But for a good lover, sex was about tending to the other person’s needs as much as tending to their own. With pegging, there was nothing he could do but submit to his lover and receive all that she had to give him.

  Mrs. Jones rubbed the hard cock on his hole. He flexed his anus with greed. He was ready for her, ready to take every angry thrust she was prepared to give him.

  She didn’t waste time with kisses and caresses. She didn’t even bother to prepare him with her thumb or a few fingers. She didn’t even reach around and fondle his balls or his cock.

  Fuck, she really was mad.

  She braced herself with one foot on the bed. Her knee met his hip. The other knee she used to push his legs further apart. He felt the cool, slippery tip of the oil on the fake dick at his ass. Then she pushed into him with a hard thrust that had him reeling.

  She only made it a quarter of the way in before she met resistance. She held there, letting it burn. He took a deep breath, and he took it.

  She withdrew, and the burn receded. She thrust again. This time she got halfway in before his muscles pushed back.

  Jones was at war with himself, trying to relax, trying to let her in. He knew how good this would be once they got past the ring of resistance.

  She retreated again. He felt more oil run through his crack. This time when she pushed into him, she met no more resistance. She slid all the way in. Between his thighs, his dick wept, and a bead dripped down onto the comforter.

  Now that she was in, she set a brutal pace. She thrust into him like a jackhammer, so deep, so hard, so fast that his arms couldn’t hold him up. His torso fell into the mattress, but his ass stayed up high to take more of the brutal, perfect pounding.

  She knew where all of his sensitive spots were but she was purposefully avoiding each and every one of them. Didn’t matter. Just the feel of her thrusting up his ass woke up that tiny bundle of nerves in his rectum. They waited for her to draw near as though they were the trap and once they caught her attention, they would sound the alarm.

  She slowed down and began to make circular movements with her hips. He was groaning and moaning like he was a goddamn toy at her service, and he was.

  She tilted her hips and rocked into him in a fast rhythm like he did when he was sucking her clit. She was so close to where he needed her to be. He was so slick, so sensitized. And she knew it.

  He knew he was being punished, but how the fuck could he say sorry when this was the consequence. He completely understood their toy now. If this was the
result of bad behavior, he’d act like a brat every minute of every day.

  He was growling now, like a male lion in heat. She had taken his balls and left him with a hungry cunt. And still the pleasure built.

  He was delirious with the anticipation of the orgasm. His own dick was hard as it rocked to and fro in time to her thrusts. Then she tilted her hips again. Gongs went off in his head. Bells rang in his mind. She walked into his trap.

  Only, he was the one who got snared.

  His muscles tightened in his ass until they squeezed his eyes shut. They cut off oxygen to his head. They momentarily stopped the beating of his heart. His lungs couldn’t carry the light load of air.

  He stayed in the moment as his body wrung him dry. Once he was wrung of every moisture in his bones, she twisted his skin, his muscles, his blood in the other direction. Any man who shamed a dick up their ass didn’t know what they were missing. That tight bundle of nerves in the ass pulsed longer than the meager five second orgasm of the cock.

  And even better, he could have more than one in a single session. And his wife knew it. She didn’t stop her thrusting as he came. She kept going, keeping that brutal pace, hitting that same spot.

  When his whole body collapsed on the bed, unable to take any more, she nudged until he flipped over. He did as he was told, coming to his back with her towering over him. She raised his knees and shoved the cock back up his ass. Then she grabbed his cock and began to stroke.

  He was damn near weeping by now, which is just what she wanted. To show him who was in charge, who held the real power in this relationship. He’d never had a problem admitting that his wife ran him. She led him by the dick and he was happy to follow which ever direction she tugged him in.

  She stroked his cock as she pumped his ass. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

  “It’s yours, honey bud.”

  “Who does that cunt downstairs belong to?”

  “She’s yours too, honey bud.”

  “Are you going to fuck her again without permission?”

  Hell yes. “No, honey bud.”

  “Do it and I’ll put your dick in a cock ring for a week.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. They were so alike. Denial was both of their weapons of choice. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  She sped up her strokes and her thrusts until he couldn’t see straight. But even though his eyes crossed he didn’t take his gaze off her.

  Her hips were losing their finesse. She was as close as he was. Her grip tightened on his cock. She ran her palm up and down the straining ridge of his cock head. Her thumb got caught at the swollen tip and then slipped down the shaft.

  Before long she threw back her head. Her belly clenched in that telltale sign of her orgasm. God, she was a beautiful sight in her pleasure. He wasn’t too far behind.

  The combined clenching of his ass muscles with the tightening of his balls shattered him. But the best part was the warm body that came to lay half on top of him. He wrapped his arms around his wife, the woman who starred in his every wet dream. The woman he woke to every morning, and would for every morning of his life.

  He pulled her in close, tucking her into his side, resting his chin on top of her head. She rested her small hand in his large one, allowing him to once again protect her, changing places in their dynamic as easily as they changed their clothes each morning. They fell asleep in the cocoon.

  And all was forgiven.

  The Babysitter

  Courtney pulled up to the house. It was in a really nice neighborhood. She knew that most of her clients lived in really nice neighborhoods though most didn’t ask for her to meet them at their homes. Not new clients, anyway. But the Joneses’ had checked out with her agency.

  They’d put in an ad saying they needed some help with their toy. It hadn’t made sense to Courtney. But she’d been asked to do a lot of weird things since she’d signed up to be an escort.

  There was the guy who liked to have her dress him in diapers and feed him baby food. No sex required.

  Then there was the guy who bought her expensive shoes and had her step on his cock. Again, no sex required.

  And there was the guy who asked her to spank and tickle him while he was naked. Still, no sex required.

  Being an escort actually had little sex required which was the last thing Courtney had expected. To be honest, she was a little disappointed at the lack of fucking escorting seemed to require. She actually liked sex. A lot. She hadn’t been able to keep a boyfriend because her sex drive always overwhelmed him.

  Escorting was a choice to solve that problem plus another. She’d won a partial business scholarship, but she’d had no way to pay for the other part except to work.

  But there was no job that would cover those costs and still allow her to attend and pass all of her classes. Until she stumbled across escorting. Working just on the weekend and the odd weekday and she was able to pay for one whole quarter.

  Courtney stepped out of her car and walked up to the quaint home that belonged to the Joneses. She was expecting an old, graying, white male to answer the door. Those were the vast majority of her clients. She was a bit surprised to see a young woman, maybe late twenties, possibly early thirties but with good moisturizer if so, open the door.

  “Courtney?” the woman asked.

  Courtney nodded and extended her hand. She preferred to use her actual first name at work. She couldn’t keep aliases straight.

  “I’m Mrs. Jones. Come on in.”

  Courtney followed behind the woman who was in heels and a sundress. She was fit and pretty. Beautiful actually. She oozed sex.

  Courtney had no problems fucking girls. This would be her first girl-girl while on the job. But she wondered why this woman needed to call an agency. She could walk down the street, snap her fingers, and have men fighting to breathe the same air.

  But then again, Courtney knew she could do the same when it came to dates. Yet here she was hiring out her body parts instead of using a dating app like her contemporaries. She’d learned not to judge. She had to keep remembering that as she walked into the living room and saw a naked woman kneeling on the floor.

  “Have a seat,” said Mrs. Jones.

  Courtney did, trying not to stare at the naked woman. Mrs. Jones sat in the chair next to the woman. She reached out a hand and pet the woman’s neck like she was a house pet. The woman arched into her touch like a cat.

  “I understand you’re fairly new to the agency?” said Mrs. Jones.

  “Yes. I’ve been there a couple of months.”

  “Working your way through college? I admire that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Have you had sex with other women?”

  “Yes, I have for pleasure, but not yet for work.”

  “Do you enjoy licking cunt?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones.”

  “Do you enjoy having your cunt licked?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones.”

  “Have you used a strap on before?”

  “No, but I have used dildos on both men and women.”

  Mrs. Jones nodded. “What about anal play? Giving and receiving.”

  “Yes, I’ve received and given, but not to another woman.”

  “Can you squirt?” asked Mrs. Jones.

  “I have, but only on my own with a toy. Not with a partner.”

  “But you understand the principle?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones.”

  “Good. Making her squirt is one of the best ways to get her under control.”

  Courtney’s eyes flicked to the woman on her knees. What the hell was going on here?

  “The job is for her. She’s my toy, my sexual submissive. But neither I nor my husband have time to play with her every day. That’s where you would come in. She needs a babysitter -a playmate- a few days a week to keep her from getting in trouble.”

  With Mrs. Jones’ attention on Courtney, the toy in question took a moment to cast sly eyes up at Co
urtney.

  “So you would like me to come over and have sex with your toy a few days a week?” asked Courtney.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Courtney took in a deep breath and then let it out with a professional smile plastered on her face. “I would be delighted to play with her.”

  “I need you to more than play with her. I need you to tire her out. She can go for a while.”

  Courtney’s smile this time was carnal. “So can I.”

  “Let’s see,” said Mrs. Jones. “Take off your clothes.”

  Courtney hesitated for only a brief second before rising to her feet and doing as she was told. She stripped down and bared herself to Mrs. Jones and her toy.

  “What’s her name?” Courtney asked as she approached the naked woman.

  “Toy,” said Mrs. Jones. “Slave. Or slut. Call her whatever you like.”

  Courtney reached out her hand, like she was approaching a timid dog. Toy kept her eyes down. Courtney’s eyes went back to her owner. “May I?”

  “Toy.” Mrs. Jones’ voice was full of command.

  Toy stood and took Courtney’s hand.

  “You can be rough with her,” said Mrs. Jones. “She responds to a firm hand.”

  Courtney lifted Toy’s chin and looked into crystal blue eyes. There was mischief there, but there was also something else. Courtney was excellent at reading people, especially their hidden desires.

  Mrs. Jones wanted this woman tired out sexually. Courtney suspected that being rough with Toy would only keep her alert and on the lookout to misbehave.

  Courtney rubbed her thumb over Toy’s lower lip. “Hello, Toy. My name is Courtney. You can call me Ms. Courtney.”

  Toy stuck out the tip of her tongue, quick as a cat, and licked the pad of Courtney’s thumb.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” said Courtney. Her tone was friendly and kind, which belied her harsh words. “Would you like that, Toy?”

  Toy nodded, her blue eyes sparkling. Courtney bent her head and kissed the woman. It caught Toy off guard. Good.

  Before becoming an escort, Courtney had made her money babysitting brats. She knew that the best way to win them over was with kindness. This toy was nothing but an overgrown brat and Courtney was about to wrap her around her pinky finger.