Then she had an epiphany; she and Nick had been married for two years and been living together for three. He was everywhere in their apartment; in his clothes, in the bathroom, in the cupboards and practically everywhere else in the house. All she needed to do was use his presence in their home to make herself believe that he was there. She started scouring the house looking for anything that would bring her closer to her husband.
The first thing she could think of was his clothes, so she stripped naked and opened their shared closet. She knew Nick’s scent better than she knew most things in her life. He smelt like expensive cologne, cigars, tea tree shampoo, and most importantly sex. She took one of his shirts off the hanger and put it on. It was far too big for her, but she always remembered how Nick had told her that he loved seeing her in them. Some people may have said that it was her sex starved imagination playing tricks on her, but even underneath the detergent, she could smell him as clear as day.
She started rubbing her breasts over the shirt, closing her eyes so that she could imagine that it was him doing it. She remembered clearly how he would do it to her; he would be kissing her neck right now and cupping her breasts gently, then firmly, and then he would put his finger in her mouth and tell her to suck on it. Harriet put her own finger in her mouth and coated it with saliva, imagining her husband’s own long, thick fingers. Then she reached under her top and started rubbing her already erect nipples with her wet finger. She let out a soft moan and saw Nick smile. He loved it when she made noise, “The louder the better,” he would always say teasingly.
He also loved to squeeze her ass, and God, if she didn’t love it when he did…anything with her ass. She loved it almost as much as she loved him playing with her pussy. So Harriet let her hands travel down her stomach and then around her hips so they were gripping her ass. She remembered how Nick would do it. She had a very firm ass so it was hard for him to get a good grip, but he always managed to make her squeak.
She then let her hands go down to her pussy and started rubbing briskly. Nick never started slow; he always dove in head first, and when he knew she was aching for it, he stuck his cock inside her with no warning. That is exactly the way she liked it. It was the shock of being so full of the man she loved that made her hotter than ever, but right now she didn’t have his cock.
She needed a good substitute. But what could be any form of a substitute for Nick? Then she saw an open drawer in the closet; he had forgotten his cigar case. That was strange seeing as he took the damn thing everywhere, but it was closest thing she had to him right now so without thinking, she picked it up and shoved it right into her pussy.
It worked. She managed to surprise herself. The shock of having the foreign object inside of her made her so wet and horny that she almost came on the spot. Nick always hit her in the right places, and it only took a few thrusts from this cigar case to make her come like a freight train, calling her husband’s name.
***
Nick Frost pulled his suitcase out of the taxi and smiled as he saw his home. He knew that his wife would be waiting for him and that she would be ready to…welcome him home. He ached for her all week and had nearly ripped his cock off in vicious masturbation sessions which had done little to help him. Fortunately, he had managed to catch an early flight home to surprise his wife, and he would have a wonderful reunion with her.
Sadly, however, when he reached their shared flat, she wasn’t there. She must have been shopping seeing as she should have finished work hours ago. He decided that this would give him some time to shower, change, and make himself look presentable.
He went into his bedroom, stripped, and went into his closet to put the dirty clothes in the basket. He was about to leave and go into the adjoining bathroom when he saw an open drawer. His cigar case was inside, and it came into his mind that he had forgotten to take it with him. He picked it up to take a cigar out for after his shower (Harriet always loved it when he smoked, she said it make him look sexy), but when he picked it up he felt that something was off.
It was like there was a liquid on it that had dried.
‘No,’ he thought. ‘No, she didn’t.’ Then he lifted the case to smell it, “Yes she did,” he said out loud.
He knew that Harriet would be squirming on her seat for the entire week, but he never thought that she would have missed him so much that she would need something of his to stick inside of her. He thought about being angry and then remembered the small argument they had before he left. She had not wanted to go on his trip because he couldn’t leave his cock.
“Who does it belong to?” he had asked teasingly.
“Who uses it the most?” she had replied in the same tone.
He chuckled at the memory and thought that as ridiculous as it was, she had a point. He had left her by herself, and that wasn’t fair. He took the cigar out and left it in the living room before hopping in for a quick shower, planning on how he was going to get her back for defiling his property but also make it up to her for not being there when she needed him.
They were two difficult things to accomplish but combining them was going to be hell.
Then a spark of inspiration came into his mind. He turned off the shower, dried himself, threw on some trousers that he remembered Harriet commenting on positively, and then went to the living room. He sat on the couch, placed his cigar in his mouth, and waited for his wife to come home and boy, was she going to get the surprise of her life.
Nick was going to make sure she wouldn’t forget this fuck for a long time to come.
***
Harriet fumbled for her keys as she tried to balance all the bags she had. ‘Retail therapy’ had definitely not helped her in her sexual frustration. However, when she finally got the door open, she saw Nick sitting half naked on their couch with a half-finished cigar between his fingers. She dropped all the bags she had in her hand and ran to him. He stood up and scooped her up in his arms and kissed her with a burning passion that had been building for an entire week.
She was ready to go into the bedroom and find the relief she had been waiting for, but she felt a gentle push against her chest, and she was then looking up at Nick’s face, which had an aura of mischief on it. He usually looked like that when she was in trouble. She didn’t get in trouble often seeing as all she had to do was smile at him and he would be a puddle at her feet. Oh God, he knew.
“I understand you were very lonely without me here,” he said. “So lonely in fact that you felt the need to…fill the void,” he smirked. “You know, I can taste you on this cigar.”
Harriet didn’t know what to say. She was in trouble. She didn’t know if it was the good kind of trouble or the bad kind of trouble.
“I don’t know what you could have been thinking Harriet. You should have known that I’d know that taste anywhere.” He paused, but his smirk remained in place. “I think I will have to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.”
“W-what are you going to do?” she asked, shaking more from arousal than fear.
“I’m going to give you a long, hard spanking Harriet. Let’s see if you ever feel the need to replace me with inanimate objects again after that.”
“Oh no, Nick please,” she said, trying to scramble away, but her husband was too fast, and he grabbed her arm and threw her across his lap.
She was wearing a skirt and a thin pair of cotton panties so she wouldn’t get much protection from Nick’s strong hand. However, it didn’t look like he was even going to let her have that miniscule protection seeing as he pulled up the skirt and yanked down the panties so that they were around her ankles. She started thrashing.
“Stop struggling, Harriet. You’re only going to make this harder on yourself.”
Harriet stopped, she knew she wasn’t going to get away from this and despite her fear of what a smack from Nick could do to her, she was also aroused beyond belief.
“There’s a good girl. Now tell me, how many times did you masturbate while I was away?”
Harriet hesitated but cried out, “20 times, 20 times,” when she felt him smack her.
Nick chuckled, “And how many times did you cum?”
“I don’t know,” Harriet hiccupped. “I think around thirty.”
“Okay then Harriet, I am going to give you one smack for every orgasm. That means a little pain in exchange for pleasure.”
SMACK!
“Count, Harriet,” he demanded. He only used her full name when he was being serious.
“One,” she cried.
SMACK!
“Two.”
Nick’s hand was fierce and strong, and every strike hurt. Her husband had never raised a hand to her before because not only did she know that he wasn’t the type of person to wilfully harm anyone, let alone someone he loved, but he also never lashed out in anger.
As she tried desperately to keep count of the strikes, she thought about Nick’s state of mind and she realized that he wasn’t angry. This wasn’t done to punish her…well it was a punishment but that wasn’t the primary aim of the exercise. What he was trying to do was make her aroused, and if the wetness between her bare legs that was gradually getting stickier was anything to go by, it was working.
As he reached the fifteenth strike, Harriet heard her disciplinarian chuckle and put his hand between her legs. “This pussy is getting wet,” he said, deviously. “Are you enjoying being punished, you filthy girl?”
Harriet moaned as his fingers slowly stroked her clit. She spread her thighs as wide as she could in the position she was in to give him better access, but he pulled his hand away.
“I am not done punishing you yet Harriet. You are going to take your spanking like a good girl and apologize for what you did or your pussy won’t be seeing any cock tonight.”
Harriet whined and almost cried at the prospect. She knew there was only one way she could make this right and that was to do anything Nick told her to do so she pushed her ass up further and said, “Please spank me Nick. I’m really sorry for what I did. I was just so horny and I couldn’t wait for you to come back. Please punish me and let me make it up to you.”
Nick seemed frozen for a second, and then Harriet felt his cock grow very hard and press into her stomach. She knew that he was going to do just that.
He grabbed her around the back. “You don’t have to count anymore,” he said roughly.
Then he delivered fifteen vicious slaps to her already bruised backside. She cried out and screamed and begged, but Nick was having none of it. After the spanking was over, he pushed her onto the floor and stood up.
“You said you wanted to make it up to me. Well, get up onto your knees and suck my cock. Make it good and ready for when I plough it into your greedy little pussy.”
Harriet had no idea what was happening to her, but she was more turned on than she had ever been in her entire life. The language, the rough play, the deviousness--it was all combining to make her wetter and needier than she had ever been in her entire life.
She was burning with the need for her husband’s cock, preferably in her pussy, but she just wanted to have it inside her so she unzipped Nick’s trousers and pulled out his long, wide, beautiful cock and sealed her lips over it. She started bobbing her head up and down trying to get as much of it inside her as she could, but it didn’t seem like enough. She took her mouth off it and licked a long line down the shaft. She heard her husband moan and knew that she must be doing something right so she continued to lick and suck with all her energy until she felt strong hands gripping her hair.
“Enough,” she heard Nick say in a raspy voice. “Get up and go to the bedroom. Lie face down on our bed and stick your ass in the air.”
Harriet squirmed again. Nick had never acted like this, but it was turning her on to no end so she did as she was told.
The bed sheets were fairly cold, and they made her nipples even harder. She hoped that he would pinch them like he usually did. She hoped that he would play with her ass. She hoped that he would make her scream, and mother of God, she hoped that he would fuck her.
She heard him enter the room about a minute later, but she kept her face buried in the pillow. She then felt a ghost of a hand travel across her aching ass and then a seductive voice said, “Have you learned your lesson Harriet?”
“Yes,” she cried desperately. “Yes.”
“And do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes!”
“Are you going to be a good girl and do as you are told from now on?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Okay, then. Turn around and sit up facing me.” She did as she was told and found him holding his cigar case. “I want you to play with yourself. Show me exactly how you did it.”
Harriet hesitated only for a moment and then took the case. She rubbed her hand over her breasts and pinched her nipples roughly. “I imagined you doing just this. I wanted your hands all over me so I wore one of your shirts.”
She then trailed her hand down her stomach and began stroking her pussy vigorously. Then she shoved the cigar case inside her. “I just wanted you inside me Nick. I was going crazy. I’m sorry, please just fuck me. Fuck me hard. I need your cock inside me. Nothing is better than that.”
And he then grabbed hold of the metal case and pulled it out of her. Before she could blink, he had entered her and was fucking her hard and fast.
“Ah,” she cried. “Yes, thank-you, thank-you.”
“Sshh,” Nick hushed. “Don’t say anything else. Just feel me inside you. Just cum.”
And with that, she came hard. She came for an entire three minutes. Her record thus far had only been a minute and a half. She didn’t even feel Nick cum inside her; she just lay there in a daze of euphoria, happy to finally have the man she loved inside her and at her side.
“We have got to try that again,” she said to Nick when she finally regained her senses enough to speak.
“Well, let me tell you that the next time you are naughty, you are going to get an even harder punishment,” he replied with mirth in his voice.
She chuckled and rolled her red bottom against his cock. “Yes sir. I’m a bad girl, and I need to be put in my place.”
Paying Her Debts
by KT Lynn
Themes: rough sex
Rocco scowled as he slouched toward his boss’s office, his broad, powerful shoulders hunched, his cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers, almost entirely unsmoked, a long column of untasted ash. He was wearing the tight-fitting black shirt and black skinny pants which were standard in the mob, and a black cap was pulled down over his eyes. It was obvious that he was tired, unhappy and not at all willing to be given his eighth job in as many days. It was time for his break. But working for Pippie, you couldn’t say that. If he had a job for you, you did it, simple as that. And you didn’t laugh at his name.
“Hey Pippie,” Rocco said, trying to mask his irritation.
“Rocco! Got a good one for you this time – got ourselves a man who’s skipped out on his debt. Don’t worry, took care of him already. Want you to go collect it from his pretty widow. Any means necessary, you know?”
Rocco asked the only questions he needed to know.
“Where and when?”
***
Stella poured water onto the roses without seeing what she was doing. Since Roger had disappeared, she had been angry and lost. She didn’t miss him – it had been a long time since their marriage was anything more than convenience, and she wasn’t convinced that she had ever really cared for him – she had just been seduced by the enormous estate, his shiny car and the beautiful rose garden. She had thought that he was a man who would be able to provide for her and make her comfortable, and it hadn’t really seemed to matter that there was passion lacking in the relationship.
Now that he had disappeared, she was mostly angry because he had left her with all of this responsibility – she had no income, she couldn’t even afford to pay a gardener – and she didn’t really know what
to do. She knew her husband was hugely in debt to some mob – and she hated the feeling of waiting, always expecting something terrible to happen. More than that, she was lonely. She longed for the touch of a man, his broad arms wrapped around her, the sort of pleasure that made every care drop away.
“Mrs McGourvey?” a deep, slightly wary voice spoke from behind her, and she dropped her watering can in shock, cold water gushing out onto her sandal-clad feet.
Turning around, her eyes widened – first in fear, then in amazement. Dressed all in tight-fitting black, his eyes dark, his skin lightly tanned, and a black hat pulled down to shade his face partially from view, it was clear he was the very thing she had been fearing. But she had been expecting four burly, gruff, greasy men with dirty hands and gold teeth. She hadn’t expected someone young and, quite frankly, attractive. He had the sort of lean but muscular body she liked, broad across the shoulders with a slender dancer’s waist, long, perfectly toned legs and she was sure that if he turned around the black jeans would display an absolutely scrumptious ass. His face was not mean-looking, just tired, and his eyes had a dark innocence to them which she found compelling. His lips were thin but pleasantly shaped. She found herself unreasonably drawn to him.
Filthy Smut (Vol. 4): 35 Erotic Stories (Over 400 Pages of Hot Sex) Page 10