4 Play Erotica

Melanie was one of those high-powered, no-stopping-her executives that no guy ever turned down. She always came to the office with her long, tanned legs wrapped in the shortest of mini skirts. All the guys in the office would stop dead whenever she bent over to pick up a piece of paper she’d “accidentally” drop while walking between the cubicles. She’d keep her pins perfectly balanced on high heels as she’d bend over, push out her cute, tight ass, pick up the paper then flick her long blonde hair as she straightened up. Just looking at her made my mouth water and my cock get so hard it ached like it was gonna burst. I’d often leave the floor for a quick wank in the toilets after watching one of her shows. I swear, half the guys in the office only came to work to watch the show. The bitchin’ she’d get from the other girls in the office only made her look so much hotter; that and the fact that she was our boss just made her sizzle.

Every Friday night we would all head out to the clubs and get pissed. It was during one of those nights that she asked me why I’d leave my cubicle straight after watching her bend over. She already knew the answer; that was evident by the way she grabbed my balls and winked as she said it.

I fucked her that night. It was everything I’d imagined it’d be and more. It wasn’t until the morning after that I remembered my wife. Melanie laughed as I rushed to get home to Isabella; and, boy, was Isabella furious when I got home. She didn’t talk to me for a week, which was a welcome change from her usual nagging.

After a couple of weeks of banging Melanie in her office, she came up with the idea to promote me to a position that required a lot of “business trips” and I just loved our sneaky trips to backstreet hotels where we would fuck the whole time.

I’d been filling Melanie with my cock for two years when I finally came clean to Isabella. Melanie had nagged me to leave my wife since those first few weeks we were together. She was obsessed. I told her “Yeah, sure, as soon as the kids have finished college”. I meant it every time I said it. I hated my wife for keeping me trapped in a marriage without so much as a blow-job since our twins were born. Yeah, I promised Melanie I’d leave my wife and I meant it. How was I to know the kids would leave home after college and Isabella would turn into a fucking machine without an off switch.

While I’d been busy screwing my boss, waiting for the day I could tell Isabella to go fuck herself, Isabella had been dreaming about the fucking we would do when we’d got our home to ourselves. She jumped me the same night the twins left home. I didn’t know what had hit me, I thought she was drugged up. All those years of thinking she was a dried up cow with a cobwebbed pussy vanished in an instant. She had dressed like a devilish tart and wanted me to drill her cunt ’till it was over-flowing with my spunk. I had to choose: my wife or my boss.

We were in Melanie’s office when I last fucked her brains out. She looked damn tasty in that short skirt. Her buttocks barely hidden by it. Her glasses fell to the floor when I shoved her on her desk, ripped her knickers off and pounded her pussy like I was drilling for oil. I’ll never forget the sex smell that filled the room. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. That was the day I told her I couldn’t leave Isabella.

“We can still be fuck buddies.” I said. That slap she gave me made my head swim among the clouds. You should have heard the howls from the guys on the floor as she chased me out of her office. That day I was a star and nobody was in any doubt that I’d been screwing Melanie.

The next day she threatened to tell Isabella about our affair. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to put my hands around her neck and squeeze it like it were a tube of play dough. I wanted to watch her eyes pop out of her head, and savior it. Had I been able to get away with it, had she not kneed me in my balls when I put my hands around her neck, I would have done it.

While I groveled on the floor clutching my balls, she told me she’d kept all the messages I’d left on her answer-phone, all the Valentine’s and Birthday cards I’d sent her, all the photos of us together and, worse still, she had the home movies of us screwing. She grabbed my shirt, pulled me toward her and whispered “If anything happens to me my lawyer will hand deliver them to your wife.” God, she looked damn sexy crouched over me like that; ball ache or not, I should have fucked her. I didn’t dare ask her for copies of our movies.

That night I confessed to my wife. I expected her to look shocked. She didn’t. She didn’t even gasp or cry. She looked at me through her steely blue eyes and very calmly said “I know.” Then she stood up, walked over to the drinks cabinet, fixed me a large Scotch , forced me to drink it then poured me another one before she said: “I’ve known for a long time. For nearly two years I have cried every time you left for work.” I’d never seen her look so masterful as when she said those words. I told her I would do anything to make it up to her, anything at all. She smiled as she took my hand and took me upstairs to the bedroom.

Later that night, after she’d finished sucking my balls, she opened her bedside cabinet and pulled out a box. “Do you remember what you said earlier? That you would “do anything” for me.” She smirked as she said it. She opened the box and took a bent metal tube with a handcuff attached to it. I couldn’t hide my nerves. She smiled as she pulled back the bed covers, slipped my flaccid dick into the tube and snapped the cuff around my balls. “From now on, your dick is mine and I say when you get to use it.” She fixed her eyes into mine and said: “You and your balls belong to me. They are my toys. No fucker else’s. Got it?” She put the key to the lock onto a necklace which she put around her neck before she laid down to sleep.

A fucking chastity belt, a male chastity belt, I thought. She had my balls in a trap and must have planned it for some time. You should have seen Melanie’s anger the following day when she pinned me against her office door and copped a feel of my cock. She must have spent half an hour trying to pick the lock. When she gave up she screamed “If I can’t have it, she can’t. I’m sending you to Europe.” Oh, she was pissed. I had to laugh to myself when she said it. It felt kinda sexy, though: I had something she wanted but it belonged to someone else.

Later that week I found myself sitting in a hotel room in Amsterdam, watching hardcore porn. Damn, that cock cage pissed me off – I couldn’t even get a hard on because it stopped the blood from flowing into my cock. I got more and more frustrated every time I saw a fuckable woman getting her pussy licked or her tight arse banged by a rock hard cock. My balls ached, the base of my cock was on fire but I couldn’t fill it up. If I could, I could have shown these European bitches my American whopper. I couldn’t even rub my bell end properly to have an orgasm.

I don’t know what caught hold of me but it was then, as I looked at my pants, that I began to wonder, there must be a way to get this thing off. It’s only a chastity belt for christ’s sake. There must be some way to get the fucking thing off.

I gulped my brandy, dropped my pants and began grabbing at the thing. “Aaaaggh!” I groaned as I struggled to remove it. “I’ll oil it!” I shouted as I ran to the dining table to grab the vase of salad oil. I poured the lot over my cock and fought with the thing to get it off. I got more and more frustrated the more I pulled, tugged and grappled at the thing. “Fuck!” I shouted, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I came to one conclusion: I would have to cut my balls off!

Defeated, I grabbed the brandy bottle, thought fuck it, and guzzled it. No sooner had I got it to my mouth there was a knock at the door. Can’t even have drink to myself, bloody hotel staff. “Just a minute” I shouted as I hurriedly put on my pants, “Who is it?” There was no reply. I moved the sheepskin rug over the oil that had dripped onto the floor, “I’m coming.” How ironic that last call was, I laughed to myself. I thought it might have been Melanie; she said she would visit me while I was here.

I answered the door. Stood in the hallway was a tall blonde haired woman wearing a long black cloak with her back turned to me. I took in her full profile. The belt wrapped around her waist made her shapely ass look damn tasty; and those tanned legs and black high heel shoes made my cock tingle so bad. I felt the aggression well up as I thought of all the things I wanted to do to her. Had I had just a little more to drink, cock cage or not, I would have grabbed her waist and finger-fucked her there and then.

The slim figure shook her hair as she turned to face me.

Fucking hell! I thought; it was Isabella.

“Surprised?” She said and gave me a sultry smile with pouted red lips. She pushed passed me as she walked into the room. “Have you been trying to play with yourself?” She teased as she spied the salad oil by the full-length mirror. I closed the door and watched her, fascinated, as she prowled the room. It was like something out of a spy movie. She looked out of the window that overlooked Amsterdam.

“Strip.” She demanded. I rushed to remove my clothes. She stared at me, mockingly, licked her lips and moved her eyes up and down to ogle my naked body. She laughed when her eyes moved over her “toy box”.

“Sit.” She commanded.

I scurried to the leather chair facing the mirror and sat feeling open and utterly defenceless. Isabella moved between me and the mirror and stood with her legs shoulder width apart. Slowly, seductively, she removed her cloak to reveal she had walked through Amsterdam wearing only a red bra and thong. She dropped her cloak, put her index finger in her mouth and sucked it before she traced it from her mouth, down between her tits all the way to her pussy. She danced as she put her hand under her thong and masturbated herself. I heard her pussy juice squelch as she did it. She traced her finger back up her body to her mouth where she sucked it again with her beautiful, pouting lips. My body tensed with the desire to jump up and fuck her. My eyes flicked from her to the mirror. I watched her wiggle her rear as her body quivered in pleasure as she played with her pussy. I squeezed the cock cage as hard as I could. The frustration in my eyes delighted her. She reached for the key attached to the chain around her neck… Her expression said it all. Oh the silly fucking cow’s not wearing her necklace.

I jumped out of my chair and lunged at her. “Where is it?” The anger in my voice excited her. I shook her violently. She laughed, grabbed my cock cage and pulled it. I yelped. “Get on your knees and suck my pussy or I’ll yank them off.” She tugged it again. I dropped and obeyed.

She grabbed my hair and pulled my head hard between her legs as she squealed in ecstasy. Her body shook as she neared orgasm. She pushed me away just before she climaxed, reached into her mesh bra and took out the key to her toy box. I groveled at her legs pleading her to let me loose. Without a word, she lead me to the king sized bed, pushed me onto my back, unlocked her toy and sunk my cock deep into her throat. I came in an instant. She swallowed my cum, looked up, licked her lips, sexily slithered up my body and rubbed my head between her tits. I was in a sex trance. The blood rushed from my body back to my dick. I felt delirious as my dick swelled with blood again. Slowly, she lowered herself onto my cock. I felt my head push into her dripping wet pussy followed by my shank being fully surrounded by her as she slid up and down my pole faster and faster ’till she screamed in orgasmic pleasure. We fucked over and over ’till she couldn’t fuck any more and just then there was another knock at the door….

Tags: long blonde hair, business trips, tanned legs, blonde, Isabella, melanie, wife melanie, europe, one of those nights, amsterdam