BDSM Library - Entrapment

Entrapment

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: A mixup at the costume shop results in a sexy Halloween.
The Sting
by Couture
email: couture_writes@hotmail.com

(FM, Strapon, CD)

Please do not read if under 18 years of age or 
offended by 
sexually explicit stories and situations.  

(c) 2003 Couture

***********
"So honey, any ideas for the costume party?" my wife 
asked.  Pam was standing at the kitchen counter, 
chopping carrots for the salad.  She was a petite 
brunette and her hips shifted as she leaned against 
the counter, giving a nice curve to her back.  

Even after five years of marriage, I was still crazy 
about her, but I wasn't crazy about the idea of this 
costume party at her friend's house.  Why couldn't we 
just go and pull a good drunk?  I remember the last 
time I had to get dressed up.  I wore a frightening 
latex mask in the shape of a skull, a black leather 
jacket, motorcycle boots, and black jeans.  I looked 
pretty damned frightening and cool at the same time, 
but it was impossible to drink beer through the mouth 
hole and within an hour, condensation from my breath 
had turned the inside of the mask into a sauna.  
Eventually, I took it off, but after sweating in the 
goddamn thing for hours; I was still a damned scary 
sight.

Then an idea struck me.  "You could dress up as wonder 
woman, and I could be that guy from the Airforce," I 
said a little too helpfully.

"Bore-ing. . ." Pam replied.  "How about Little-bo-
peep and her sheep?"

"That's sick," I said.  "And no way am I going to 
dress up as a sheep with people asking me if I'm lost 
all night."

I ran through some ideas in my head.  God, I wish she 
would have dressed up as Wonderwoman.  I could imagine 
her in those tight blue panties, her shapely legs, and 
a top that wasn't much of a top.  The images in my 
head were waking up the little guy down below.  It was 
then, with my mind in the gutter, when inspiration 
struck.  "I could be a pimp and you could go as my 
ho."

"I don't like pimps," she said, then waved the knife 
at me.  "Besides, I don't need protectin'.  But I like 
the way you are thinking." 

Pam snuck up behind me and reached around, grabbing my 
cock through my pants.  "I thought so," she said, 
while I tried to continue working on the stir-fry.   

"What about a cop?" she asked.  

"What about a cop?"

"Silly," she said.  "You know.  A cop and a Ho."

"It gets my vote."  The little guy liked it too.  He 
throbbed in her hot hand as images of Pam in a tiny 
black number, high heels, and stockings crept in my 
mind.

Pam leaned close and whispered in my ear.  "A whore 
would have to do whatever the cop said to keep from 
getting taken down town, wouldn't she?"  

"Yes, she would."  Okay,  Halloween just moved from 
last place to first as my favorite holiday.  I wanted 
to dress up now.  I wished Halloween came every week.

"Oh yes, she certainly would," Pam growled as she 
unhooked my belt and worked at my zipper. 

"What about dinner?" I asked.

"Are you *that* hungry?"

"Not for stir-fry."  I cut off the stove, turned 
around and grabbed her.  We didn't even make it to the 
bedroom.

***************

The week seemed to last forever, and then, thank God, 
Halloween arrived.  I had several recurring fantasies 
of my wife dressed up as my Ho' all week.  I hoped I 
could make a couple of them come true.

"Honey, I've got the costumes." I heard Pam shout from 
downstairs.  

"Alright!" I said, as I bounded down the steps.  "Are 
you ready to try them on?"

"Don't even think about it buster," Pam warned with a 
smile.  "We don't have time to play around.  Just 
enough time to get dressed and go to the party."

"Do we have time enough for a quick cavity search?"

"If you're lucky, I'll let you pat me down for weapons 
officer Morgan."

I took the outfit and hurried to the bedroom to try it 
on.  It was then that disaster struck.  My arms hung 
down from the sleeves of the shirt.  The pants and 
shoes?  Fa-get-about-it.  My fantasies were quickly 
dissolving.  I looked to silly to be a cop.  I looked 
like Jethro.

"Honey," Pam said, as she came out of the bathroom.  
"I think there's been a mistake."

I burst out laughing at her.  She looked at me and 
laughed as well.  Her dress was too big for her and 
her heels swallowed her feet.  She looked like a 
little girl who got lost in her mom's closet. 

"Those bastards!" she laughed.  "They must have got 
the sizes switched.  What are we going to do?"

"We could go as Mark and Pam," I volunteered.

Pam looked me up and down and smiled wickedly.  I 
didn't like the look she was giving me.  I felt like a 
mouse being eyed up by the cat.  She came over, sat on 
my lap, and kissed me.  

"Oh Markie," she said.  Her hand found its way through 
the hole in my boxers.  "You know what else we could 
do?"

"No," I squeaked, but I knew what she was thinking.  I 
didn't like it, but I knew alright.

She licked her upper lip and bit her pouting lower 
one.  "I could be the cop . . ." she said huskily.  ". 
. .and you could be the whore."

"No way."  Uh huh.  No way.  No how.

 "I could make it worth you while," she said and 
traced my lips with her tongue.  "Besides, we don't 
even know for sure that they will fit."

"I can't."

"Sure you can, it's Halloween."

"But what about . . . you know . . . the little guy."

"He feels like a big guy to me right now," she said, 
giving him a shallow pump.  "Don't worry.  I can take 
care of him.  I can take care of everything."

She went down on her knees and took the head of my 
cock in her mouth.  She sucked it and leisurely ran 
her tongue along the ridges.  It wasn't enough to 
bring me off, but it felt damned good.  I felt my 
resistance weakening by the second.

"Puh-leaze," she said, and gave my cock a kiss on the 
very tip.

My resistance dissolved.  "We'll try.  But no 
promises.  If I look too stupid or you laugh the 
show's over."

She jumped up, squealed happily, and clapped her 
hands.  "Oh goody, oh goody, this is going to be so 
much fun!"  She led me to the bathroom and stripped my 
clothes off.  

"First a shower."  Pam turned on the shower and pushed 
me in.

I got in, picked up a bar of soap, and started to 
lather up.

"Oh no," Pam said, as she slipped into the shower with 
me, and snatched the soap from my hand.  "Just leave 
it up to me Sugah; I'll take care of everything."  She 
squeezed some gel onto a shower puff and lathered me 
up.  It smelled like peaches.  Hell, I guess I smelled 
like peaches as well.  She caressed my cock or my 
nipples every now and then, keeping me in a state of 
constant excitement.  

"Now comes the fun part," she said, as she started to 
coat me legs in shaving cream.

"Oh no," I said.  "That's going too far."

She licked and sucked at my balls.  "Shhhh. . ." she 
said.  "Lots of guys shave.  It makes it easier to see 
your muscles."

I can't believe it, but I allowed her to shave me.  
All over.  I blush thinking about it, but she even 
shaved me around my ass.  The only thing she left me 
was a tiny triangle of curly hair above my cock.  

"God, you are *so* sexy," she said, gently licking at 
my cock.  "You make me want to cream."

"Fuck the party.  Let's stay here and play.  I'm horny 
as hell."

"Not yet.  Come on," she urged.  "Let me finish you 
up."

"That's exactly what I was hoping for."  My balls 
ached, and I was desperate to cum.

"I meant your costume," she said.  

We got out of the shower.  She dried me and wrapped 
the towel around herself.  

"Whores always wear lots of perfume."  She took out 
her perfume and sprayed me on my neck, crotch, and 
stomach.  She looked at me critically, smiled, 
shrugged her shoulders and sprayed me some more.  

"First let's do something with these nails."  Pam took 
out a pack of fake nails.  "Here we are.  Nice long 
whore nails."

"These come off, don't they?" I asked.  No way was I 
going to let her do anything permanent, no matter what 
the inducement she was offering.  

"Of course," she shrugged me off.  "They're just press 
on and pop off."  She stuck them on and the painted 
them.  When she was finished, she had me hold them up 
and blow in them.  While I did this, she painted my 
toenails.

"Baby, don't you think you are taking this a little 
too seriously.  I haven't said I was going like this 
yet," I said.  

"I know, just let me finish with your nails and then 
we'll put on your makeup."  Pam said, ignoring all my 
protests.  

"And whores love their makeup."  My wife proceeded to 
give my face a liberal coating of make-up, complete 
with long fake eyelashes.  

"Stop calling me whore," I said, struggling to get up.  
"And let me look in a mirror.  I want to see what kind 
of damage you've done."

She pushed me down on the toilet seat and straddled 
me.  The towel fell from her body as she shifted back 
and forth.  "Be patient," she said, kissing me deeply, 
stabbing her tongue into my mouth.

"Good girl," Pam said.  "Not stay there and let me 
finish you up."  

Soon, I was completely in costume, sporting red heels, 
a black padded bra, black fishnets and garters, and a 
black mini skirt and top that hugged me like a glove.  
Completing the outfit was a big blond wig.

"One last thing," my wife said, as she unwrapped a 
piece of bubble gum and pushed it in my mouth.  "Okay, 
now you can look at yourself."

The image that greeted me in the mirror was 
astounding.  My wife had done a good job.  I looked 
like a prostitute sure enough.  More precisely, I 
looked like a pretty damned scary prostitute.  The 
clothes hugged my slender build and the heels made my 
legs and ass look . . . well . . . sexier than I felt 
comfortable with.  But, the jaw, the muscular shoulder 
and arms, and the fact that I was six four in heels 
made me look as much like some sort of androgynous 
Amazon as a whore.

"You're a good looking whore."  Pam hugged me from 
behind.  Her hand were busy sliding up my stocking 
clad legs and playing with my garters, which I had to 
admit felt damned sexy.  

"I'm a scary looking whore."  My cock throbbed, 
begging for attention.  "And jeez, would you look at 
that."  I nodded down to my cock, tenting up from my 
skirt.  "Looks like the costume party is out of the 
question."

Pam traced the outline of my cock underneath the 
skirt.  "That's not going to be a problem.  A blowjob 
will put him right to sleep.  Then I'll make you nice 
and smooth with a pair of panties over top of your 
garters."

"Shouldn't the panties go under my garters?" I asked.

"You're a whore dear.  Whores have to be available at 
all times," Pam said.  "Now why don't you go to the 
bedroom and make yourself available while I my costume 
on.  It would be a good time to practice in your 
heels."

I made a half-hearted effort to walk in the heels.  
Just enough so that I wouldn't fall.  A few minutes 
later, Pam emerged from the bathroom.  The blue 
uniform fit her as if it were tailored.  Her black 
shoes were polished to a mirror shine.  Her black hair 
was piled underneath her hat.   She wore a pair of 
mirrored sunglasses.  She scratched her crotch and 
strode comically from the bathroom.

"What we have he-ah is a fail-uh to communicate," she 
said in a husky voice.

I snickered.  "What we have he-ah is someone who is 
too sexy to walk like George Jefferson."

She pushed the glassed down her nose and peered at me.  
"Too much huh?"

"Yeah," I said.  "Cops don't walk like that.  Try it 
again with your back straight, shoulders square, and 
glance from side to side as if you were looking for 
someone to commit a crime."

She tried it a few more times until she finally got it 
or at least close enough for government work.

"Your turn," she said.

I clomped across the bedroom in my heels.

"Stop-stop-whoa boy," Pam laughed.  

"Very funny, I want to know the masochist who invented 
these things," I said.

"A man invented them honey," Pam said.

"Figures."

Anyway, she had me practice until I could walk in 
them.  At first, I tried to walk like I remembered her 
doing, but she quickly reminded me I was a whore.  It 
was easier actually; just exaggerate the hell out of 
everything.  I was soon swinging my ass and strutting 
my stuff like the best of them. 

"Okay," Pam said.  "Get your pocket book and let's 
go." 

"I can't go like this," I said, then looked down at my 
bulging cock.  "Besides."

"Don't worry; I'll take care of that in the car.  So 
are we going or not?"

She had her mirrored sunglasses back up and was 
working the cop impersonation to full effect.  

"Well, I guess since you put it like that."

********

It was strange having her hold the door open for me as 
we left the house.  She even unlocked my side of the 
car, but instead of holding the door open, she pushed 
me against the door of the car.

"Give me your hands," she ordered.

"What?" I asked with disbelief.

She started tugging on my skirt.  Shit!  

"Stop," I said, doing my best to preserve my modesty.  
"I don't have on any underwear."

"Your hands."

I didn't relish the thought of my neighbors seeing . . 
. well everything I had, especially given my new 
'haircut'.  I placed my hands behind my back and they 
were secured there with the cold steel of her 
handcuffs.  

"Sorry whore, it's policy."  She opened the door, and 
then holding my head, helped me get inside.  The skirt 
rose up and there was no way I could get it down 
enough to cover my cock.  He wasn't helping one bit, 
since he was pointing straight up and keeping the hem 
of the skirt from sliding down.

"Baby, I'm kind of exposed here," I said as Pam got 
into the car with me.

"That's officer to you." She kept her face serious 
except for a slight curl at the corner of her lips.

"Stop playing."

"Who said I was playing?"  Pam put the car in gear and 
drove off.

I was stubborn and refused to play her game.  That was 
. . . until we got on the interstate.

"Officer?" I asked, blushing as I watch a tractor 
trailer come alongside.

"Yes, whore."

"Will you cover me up?  Please."

She grabbed the hem of my skirt and pulled it over my 
cock.  Her hand snuck beneath and stroked me.  I 
wanted to be mad and tell her to leave me alone, but I 
was far too horny to hold a grudge.  Soon, I was 
pushing my hips in hopes of getting more stimulation 
so I could relieve the pressure in my balls.

"Please honey," I begged.  She looked at me with her 
mirrored glasses, and didn't say a word as she 
withdrew her hand.  "I mean officer."

"What can I do for you whore?"  Pam played with my 
garters.

"I'm horny."

"How horny?"

"Ah-Very." I gasped as she squeezed my balls.

"Horny enough to take care of me later?"

"Yes, officer."  I said.  "I'll take real good care of 
you."  I would fuck her like she wouldn't believe.

She pulled the car over and parked at a very secluded 
part of a shopping center.  There was no one near us, 
but it was still much more public than I would have 
liked.  Especially, considering my attire.  

Pam pulled a condom from the pocketbook and wrapped it 
around my cock, and then pulled out a very small and 
transparent pair of black panties.  

"Let's get these on you," she said.

"But what about. . ."

"Are you refusing?" she said.

"No officer," I replied.  I played along with her 
game, even raising my ass up so she could slip them 
under my hips.

Afterwards, Pam turned sideways, propping herself 
against her arm which rested against her headrest.  
She smiled as she stroked my cock through the material 
of the panties.  

"Is this what you want whore?" she asked.  "Do you 
want to cream your panties?"

"Yes," I groaned.

"Yes, officer," she corrected, removing her hand and 
pinching first one nipple and then the other.

"Yes, officer."

"Yes officer . . . I want to cream my panties."

She resumed stroking my cock up and down.  I pumped my 
hips, felt my cum rising.  She pulled away again, 
pushing her fingers to my mouth.  

"Suck them.  Show me how you suck them whore."  Pam 
bit her lower lip.  She was obviously enjoying what 
she was doing to me, but I wished I could see her eyes 
beneath her mirrored glasses so I could see what she 
was thinking.  Instead, the only thing I saw was my 
own reflection.  The reflection of a whore sexily 
sucking on three fingers as if she were sucking a 
cock.  I moaned helplessly.   I was turning myself on.

Pam reached over me and sprung the seat latch so that 
I was leaning back.  She resumed stroking my cock 
through the silky material of the panties.  "Spread 
those whore legs," she said.  "Go on, get those heels 
in the air and beg me for it.  Tell me what you want."

"Oh God, make me cum.  Please officer, make me cream 
my panties.  Make me cream all over myself."  

What do they call a male slut?  I don't know, but 
that's what I was.  I lay there in the passenger seat, 
my legs spread, my heels dangling in the air, cumming, 
cumming like you wouldn't believe.  All the while my 
wife urged me on.  "Cum for me whore.  That's it.  Let 
it go.  Cream for me whore.  Cream all in your 
panties."

I was so spent; I lay in a stupor afterwards.  I 
barely remember what happened other than her kissing 
me deeply and the somehow getting me back together 
before driving off again.   Ten minutes later, we 
pulled up to her friend's house.  The drive was packed 
with cars and I was more nervous now than ever.  Pam 
got out, opened my door for me, and helped me out of 
the car. 

Why did I ever let myself get talked into this?  "I 
don't think this is such a good idea." I said.

"You want to wait in the car?" she said.  ". . .by 
yourself?"

Normally, I wouldn't have minded waiting in the car by 
myself.  But, dressed as I was, I was afraid to.  
"Okay," I said.  "But let's not stay long."

*************

I was afraid that it would be embarrassing, but I had 
no idea.  First of all, Pam introduced me as Whore and 
herself as Officer, which everyone enjoyed immensely.  
No matter how much I tried to correct them and tell 
them my name was Greg, they all called me whore.  At 
first, I was worried about the men most of all, but 
the most any of them ever did was wink at me and ask 
me how much for a blowjob.  

The women were the worst.  They would ask me what I 
got picked up for.  They also pulled at the hem of my 
skirt to see what kind of panties I had on and I was 
helpless to stop their attentions with my hands still 
cuffed securely behind my back.  Several of them even 
grabbed my ass.

"Officer," I said, whispering in my wife's ear.  I had 
to call her officer or she would just ignore me.  "My 
skirt's riding up again."  Those damned women!

My stood in front of me and pulled my skirt down.  
Then she stroked my thighs and groped me right there 
in the kitchen.  "Honey, please, someone will see."

She ignored me.  My cock was hard and throbbing from 
her touch.

"Officer, I think that's enough."

Pam moved back and I looked down in horror.  A circus 
tent had been erected at my crotch!

"Wait," I hissed.  "Officer, I'm ahh having some 
difficulties."  I nodded down at my crotch for 
emphasis.

Pam pushed me back against the counter, and kissed me 
as she stuck a leg between my thighs.  "So whore," she 
said.  "You want to go outside and let me take care of 
your problem."

"Yes," I breathed.

She kissed me again.  God, I was so hot.  "What about 
my problem?  You've got me hot as hell and I need some 
relief.  NOW.  You think you could help me with that."

Shit yes.  My raging hormones overrode and resistance 
I had at the thoughts of taking her then and there, 
right outside the door.  "Yes officer.  Maybe we can 
work something out."

She hustled me out the back door and pushed me against 
the wall for a probing kiss, her hot tongue stabbing 
into my mouth.  I groaned and heard an echo.  Next to 
us, Jane was on her knees while Tarzan leaned back 
against the wall.  That wasn't a vine she was swinging 
on.

"Officer, why don't we go somewhere a little more 
private," I whispered.

The wet grass soaked through the pantyhose on my feet 
as we walked back behind a shed in the backyard.  She 
pushed me against the shed and resumed kissing me 
until I grew lightheaded.  Pam's hand was soon between 
my legs.

"Let's get you out of these panties," Pam said.  It 
was strange hearing that.  Soon, I was being pushed to 
my knees.

Pam smiled down at me.  I could see myself in the 
reflection of her glasses.  I wondered how she could 
even see at all through the dark lenses.  She undid 
the buckle on her belt.  "Unzip me," she said.

"I can't." I was still handcuffed.

"Yes you can," she said.  "Do it."

God.  I prayed no one would spot me, pressed my mouth 
to her crotch, snagged the zipper between my teeth, 
and pulled down.  Then I pressed my face to her crotch 
in hopes of licking her slit through the boxers she 
was wearing.

What the?  Where I expected to find moist yielding 
flesh, I found rigid hardness.

"That's it whore," she said, licking her lips, and 
freeing the dildo from her shorts.  "Suck it."

"Wait!" I hissed.  This wasn't the way things were 
supposed to go.  Not at all!  

"Shhhh. . ." Pam whispered.  "You don't won't anyone 
to hear do you?"

I couldn't answer.  She was poking the tip of the pink 
cock at my lips.  "Hurry," she hissed.  "Hurry before 
someone comes."

Jesus, I couldn't let anyone see me.  Not like that.  
I would never live it down.  I opened my lips and took 
it in.  I sucked it for her.  I sucked her dildo right 
there in the back yard at her friend's house.   It 
wasn't really arousing at first.  I was mostly scared 
someone would catch us and where Jane seemed to have 
Tarzan well in hand, it was my wife who had me in 
hand.  She had one leg thrown over my shoulder, and 
she leaned against the shed, pumping in and out of my 
mouth at her leisure.  With my hands cuffed behind my 
back, all I could do was take it, and try not to gag.  

Pam was breathing heavy and moaning, running her 
fingers through the wig I was wearing.  The air 
whistled in and out of my nose as I sought to catch my 
breath.  

"Suck it - suck it- suck it," Pam moaned.  She 
couldn't be enjoying it, could she?  I didn't 
understand.  It was only rubber.  She acted like she 
could feel it.  

Finally, she pulled out and I gasped for breath.  
"Honey," I begged.  "You got to be quiet.   Please, 
someone will hear."

"I told you to call me officer, remember?"  

Shit, I was tired of this game.  I was tired of 
calling her officer, the heels, the skirt that kept 
rising up, but most of all, I was tired of feeling so 
goddamn vulnerable.  I would have argued with her, but 
I was in no position to argue.  I was in even less of 
one, when she walked behind me and pulled up on my 
hands.  There was nothing to do, but bend forward.  I 
felt her hands separating the cheeks of my bottom.  
Suddenly, I felt even more vulnerable.

"I guess you need a cavity search to teach you some 
manners," she said.

"No," I gasped.  No fucking way!  

She spit in my tightly clenched hole in answer, 
otherwise totally ignoring my objection.  "Mmmmm," she 
moaned as she penetrated me with a finger.

"No-honey-not this-ugh-oh-god-please-this is - ugh -
serious."  Her finger was making it very difficult to 
talk.  Hell, it was making it hard to think.  I could 
feel it pushing inside of me, violating me, regardless 
of my clenching sphincter or desires to the contrary.   
God, it felt good, but someone might see.  She had to 
stop.

"I can feel you squeezing my finger with your ass you 
randy whore," my wife whispered.  "Squeeze it.  Go on.  
Show me how much you want it.  God, you've got me so 
fucking hot."  She reached around and felt my cock.  
No matter how much I wanted it not to be, it was hard 
as a rock and pulsed in her grip.  I felt the 
sensation all the way in my ass when I clenched 
involuntarily.  

I didn't want her to think I wanted it, so I tried to 
relax, tried not to clench, tried not to show the 
effects of her finger.  She kept going a while longer, 
and eventually pulled her finger out.  I prayed she 
was done playing this game, even though secretly I 
yearned to feel her touch again.  

She spit again.  "Tell me to stop," she said.

"Sto-ughh." I grunted mid syllable.  Oh God, I was 
fuller than before.  She must have used two fingers or 
even three.  Hell, who knows how many she was using.  
Goddamn, even when I clenched, I couldn't tighten I 
was so stretched.  

"What was that whore?" was her snide remark.  "I 
couldn't quite make that out."

I rested my weight on my chest and the side of my face 
was pressed into the cold wet grass.  I could only 
imagine how I must look in my indecent attire, my legs 
splayed, my ass riding high in the air.  I felt so 
exposed, so vulnerable, so sluttish.  Is sluttish a 
word?  Who knows?  I only knew my wife was inside me 
where no one had been before and it felt good.  It 
felt goddamn good.

"St-" I began.  I was going to say stop, but it 
suddenly hit me that she might *actually* stop.  And 
most of all, I realized I didn't want her to stop.  
Ever.  I lay there and accepted it gladly.  Even 
reveling in the sensation as she twisted her fingers 
around inside of me.

"I couldn't hear you," she said.  "But it sounded like 
you said stop."

Pam pulled her fingers out.  I felt empty and cold.  
She spit in my arsehole again, I waited for her to 
stick her fingers in again.  But, instead of her warm 
fingers, I felt cold rubber.  I relaxed as best I 
could, but she didn't penetrate me.  She only teased 
me.  Poking lightly at my hole.  

"Was that what you said whore?  Did you say stop?"

She was enjoying herself.  She could be such a bitch 
sometimes.  She was going to make me say I wanted it.  
I could imagine her there in her uniform, gripping my 
hips, grinning as she looked down while I tried to 
push back against her.  

"No," I answered. "No, I didn't officer."

"Then what did you say whore?  What is it that you 
want?"

Whore.  I felt like a whore.  Her whore.  It was 
strange, but I never knew this side of my wife.  Never 
knew it existed until now.  Hell, I didn't even know 
this side of me.

"Fuck me." There I said it.  It wasn't so hard.

"How do you want me to fuck you?  I want to hear you 
say it exactly."

I could feel her getting into position behind me.  
Getting ready to give it to me.

"Fuck me," I said again.  This time it was easier, so 
I continued.  "Fuck me any way you want me.  Fuck me 
honey-officer-sweetie, whatever you want to be, just 
give it to me-ugh-oh SHIT!"  She was pushing it inside 
me then.  It was larger than I expected and it felt 
like it went in forever.  I begged her for more.  I 
told her I was her whore.  She eventually pushed her 
hand over my mouth to quiet me.  She fucked me like 
that, running her hands over my back and hips while 
she pushed into me.  

"I'm getting ready to cum," she announced.  She 
reached around my hips and grabbed my cock.  "And I 
want you to cum with me."

Her pace grew frenzied.  My ass was starting to burn.  
My balls were boiling over.  "Hurry," I urged.  I 
couldn't wait much longer.

"Wait-wait-hold on. . ." she gasped.  I could tell she 
was close by the thick sound of her voice.  "Oh-oh."  
Her body spasmed.  "Here it is.  Oh god, here it is."

Even as she said it, I was cumming too, growling like 
an animal and hugging her close with my calves.

When it was over, she helped me to my feet and 
unlocked the cuffs.  

I rubbed my sore wrists.  I was dazed.  "God," I said.  
"That was. . ."

"Incredible," she finished.  "But look honey, I have a 
confession.  The costume shop didn't mix the order up.  
I did."

"I kind of figured that out when I saw your billy-
club," I laughed.

"Then you're not mad."

"I'm a little sore."  I rubbed my ass.  "But not mad."

"I love you sweetie."  She tucked herself in and 
kissed me.  "You're the best."

"I love you too."  I stepped into my panties and 
pulled my skirt down.  "But we need to-"

"Get out of here as inconspicuously as possible" Pam 
finished.

"Yes.  Exactly."  I didn't need to be told twice.  
However, we soon found the gate was locked and the 
only way out was back through the house.  Well, it 
couldn't be that bad.  We were just a little 
disheveled.  No one would be able to tell what we were 
doing.  Not exactly.  Besides, if Tarzan and Jane had 
done it, why couldn't we?

Unfortunately that wasn't the case.  Gina spotted us 
just as we walked out of the kitchen.  

"Where have you guys been?" she asked, and then looked 
down, inspecting us.  "And what on earth have you been 
doing?"

I looked down.  Shit!  My knees and top were soaked 
with water and stained by the grass.  

"I fell," I blurted.  "You know - I'm not ah - used to 
these - heels."  

I watched as Gina grinned and glanced down at Pam's 
legs.  "And what happened to you little Miss?"

Only Pam's knees were stained.  It didn't take a brain 
surgeon to guess at the details.

"I was helping her-I  mean him - I mean my husband 
back up."

Pam was lucky to have her mirrored sunglasses on, but 
they didn't hide her blushing cheeks.

"Uh-huh," Gina said disbelievingly.  "Pam, I want to 
hear some juicy details on Monday.  Now, you two wait 
here until I give the signal."

Gina left and a few seconds later we heard Gina 
announce, "Okay . . .who wants to see me chug a beer?"

There was a whoop, and we made a break for it.  On the 
way past the living room, I noticed Gina on the coffee 
table chugging a beer, her tits jiggled on top of her 
white corset.  It wasn't often you see Martha 
Washington chug a beer.  It proved to be a good 
distraction and we escaped without anyone else 
spotting us.

We got into the car and drove off.  

"Whew, that was close," Pam said.

"You're not really going to like tell her anything on 
Monday, are you?"

"I'm going to have to tell her something."  Pam said.  
"She saved us big time."

"Well, just don't tell her *everything*," I said.  
"And take off those glasses.  I want to get home in 
one piece."

She took them off.  "And I want to get home and get a 
piece.  Do you think you can get it up again?"

"We'll see soon enough," I said grinning.  Pam didn't 
know that I still had her cuffs, but she would soon 
find out.  However, that is another story.


***********

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, yada-yada . . . this 
work 
is copyright, yada-yada.  If you publish it without 
the 
author's permission, yada-yada, the author will sell 
your 
children as sex slaves in Serbia, and you will be 
forced to 
watch while your wife is impregnated by black men.


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