A Wedding, A Tie, and a Test of Wills

A Wedding, A Tie, and a Test of Wills A Wedding, A Tie, and a Test of Wills

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


There’s something about weddings... A man has his way with his willingly reluctant, bound wife...


There’s something about weddings... A man has his way with his willingly reluctant, bound wife...


Submitted: February 09, 2018

A A A | A A A


Submitted: February 09, 2018



“You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”

The bound woman tested the restraints on her hands, but the pink necktie held. In a pinch, the man supposed, she could get free, but it would take a lot more than those desultory efforts. Her brown hair was fanned out on the pillow. She was still wearing diamond studs in her ears from the evening out; they glittered in the dim light of the plush hotel suite.

“You want me to let you go?” he asked.

“Would you?” she replied, her voice hard to read. Beneath her neatly trimmed pubic triangle, however, her pussy told a clear story, the shaved lips puffy and parted, her folds gleaming pink.

“No,” he answered. “Weddings always mean tying you up, ever since--”

“Ever since you tied my hands behind my back with my veil and fucked me in the ass on our wedding night?” she interrupted.

That scene, never far from his memory at weddings, caused his already hard cock to pulse with anticipation. “You did say you wanted to give me some kind of virginity on our wedding night,” he commented. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you came pretty fucking hard.”

“I plead the fifth,” she replied, her voice sounding remarkably prim for a woman in her position.

“So, you want me to let you go?”


He raised his eyebrow. “Really? Well, that’s not going to happen.” He pinched one of her nipples, making her yelp. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” she asked, almost glaring at him.

“Unless you say the safe word. You going to use it?”

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow; then after a long pause, “No.” Her voice held a mix of challenge and fierce defiance. She hated losing, and he knew it.

“Good girl,” he said, knowing how much she hated the phrase’s effect on her. It turned her on, even as she resented how subservient it made her feel.

“You’re a real big man, aren’t you? I’m five-two, 107 pounds, but you need to tie me up to do nasty things to me. A real man wouldn’t need to tie me up.” She knew how to push his buttons too.

“Maybe you should shut up,” he said, tweaking the other nipple, harder this time.

“Maybe you should make me,” she countered.

Kneeling next to her head, he used one hand to turn her head towards his cock, which bobbed in ostentatious arousal an inch from her face. She started to open her mouth to accept it, but then caught herself, pressing her lips firmly together.

“Suck it,” he instructed, pressing the engorged, purple head against her lips, still red with lipstick.

As best she could with his hand holding her head down, she shook her head.

He tried pressing his cock into his wife’s mouth, but she held firm.

“Fine, be that way,” he said with a shrug and then pinched her nose. She held her breath for close to a minute, with his cock bobbing urgently next to her mouth. Finally, she gasped and inhaled sweet air. And her husband’s cock, which he pushed in before she could close her mouth again.

Roughly, almost angrily, he thrust his cock into her mouth, pushing all the way to the back of her mouth until she started to gag. He held his cock there until her eyes started to water. Only then did he pull it back. Again and again he thrust into her mouth, harder each time, deeper. And each time she relaxed her throat more until she was able to take him completely. This wasn’t the first time he had forced his way into her throat.

Finally, he relented and pulled his glistening cock from his wife’s mouth. The air in the hotel room was musky with her arousal. He inhaled deeply before frowning at her expression - she was smiling in triumph.

“You’re so predictable,” she smirked, still panting to catch her breath.

He brushed his fingertips lightly against the opening of her pussy, just enough to make her jump and then try to press her hips up to meet his touch, which he withheld. There was a wet spot underneath her.

“Am I?” he asked. He picked up the television remote from the nightstand. “Maybe I can find Sportscenter. We could watch it together.”

With a touch of a button the screen came to life. Naked, he sat on the bed next to her, on her right. He propped himself up against the headboard, so that his hips and cock were about level with her face. With an expression of disbelief, she turned her head to face him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He had managed to surprise her after all.

With an expression very much like smugness, he cycled through the channels until he found women’s beach volleyball. He stroked himself lazily as he watched, or pretended to watch, the bikini-clad amazons on the screen in front of him. Mostly, from the corner of his eye, he watched her frustration build.

She tested her restraints again. They held. She tried to kick him, but he avoided her feet easily. Her nipples were hard points; her chest was flushed. The familiar smell of her arousal filled his nostrils, and he breathed deeply.

“Just keep jerking off,” she hissed, “and that’s the only attention your cock is going to get in a long time.”

“I don’t know, Candace. I think I have you just where I want you.” He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice was husky.

He took his hand from his cock and brought it to her pussy, reaching across his body to touch her. The feather-light caress made her shiver. Despite herself, she let out a low sound of pleasure.

For a while, he just rested his hand on her, enjoying the feeling of her squirming. She was trying to rub herself against his still hand. But he moved with her, retreating when she advanced, and vice versa, not allowing her the pleasure.

“God, I hate you,” she whispered.

He took pity and pressed into her. She was as slick as a bar of wet soap, and his finger dipped into her tightness easily. Slowly, lazily, maddeningly, he rubbed her, withdrawing his finger from time to time to trace small circles around --but never quite on--  her clit. She thrust her hips up, again trying to make him touch her the way she wanted, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“Bastard!” she hissed, breathing hard, as he kept her on the edge.

“Well, that’s certainly not a nice thing to say. Rude, even. And you know my parents were married.” He affected an aggrieved tone and moved his hand away.

Her chest was heaving. The husband stared at his wife’s tits with undisguised appreciation. She watched him with narrowed eyes, clearly wanting to speak, but not wanting to risk the consequences of another insult.

He held his hand in front of his face, examining how wet his finger was from its visit to her cunt. For a moment he looked as if he were going to lick it, but he changed his mind, bringing his finger to her mouth instead. This time, she accepted more readily what he gave her. She sucked eagerly, swirling her tongue around his finger in a way that his earlier face-fucking had not allowed her to do to his cock.

“Taste good?” he asked, pulling his finger from her mouth.

She said nothing, licking her lips instead. He knew her well enough to know that she wanted to say, Find out for yourself.

But she knew him well enough to know that if she did, he would make her wait even longer. She also knew that he wanted to, so she waited.

A moment later, he slid off the bed and arranged himself between her legs. She smiled.

“Spread your legs,” he told her, more brusquely than he had intended. She had won this mini-round. Still, she obliged him, spreading her legs more widely than needed, putting herself on display to him, as she knew he liked.

“Bring your knees up, towards your tits.” Again, she complied.

His face was perhaps two inches from her pussy. He breathed deeply, enjoying the aroma of her need. She squirmed, feeling his soft breath on her thighs, her cunt. Her wetness was visible even where her thighs met her body, and on her puckered asshole too. The wet patch on the bed below her was larger than before, a darker area on the damasked sheets.

Without looking up, he could feel her impatient gaze drilling into the top of his head. Unconsciously, she tried to lift her hips to his mouth. As soon as she did, she froze, knowing she had shown her hand.

This time he smiled. This round had gone to him.

“Well?” she asked, with a whine she didn’t like creeping into her voice.

She still had her knees up as far as she could bring them, the former gymnast’s flexibility on proud display. He gazed at her, at the delicate coral lips of her pussy, the clit engorged and visible. She was sopping wet. Up close, her smell was powerful and intoxicating. He licked his lips, enjoying his own delayed gratification, as well as the torture he knew he was inflicting on her.

Finally, just as she murmured the word please, almost as an exhalation, he licked her from stem to stern. She gasped; this was no feather touch. His tongue pressed strong and hard from the bottom of her cunt to her clit, pushing its way in on the way. At the top of his lick, he flicked her clit hard, no longer teasing.

“Oh fuuuck!” she moaned, meeting his tongue with her hips. His second lick started at the knot of her anus, pressing hard at her rosette as he licked even harder up to her clit. His cock throbbed just off the foot of the bed as her juices inflamed his lust even more. He spent more time at her clit this time, licking firmly underneath it, then running circles around it and over it. Sooner than he would have thought, her body began to tense in its telltale way.

He eased off, feeling the disappointment in her body. His hands slid up her taut stomach, finding her breasts, the nipples engorged and hard. When he tugged them sharply, her body tensed again, on the edge once more.

He slid up her body and crushed his mouth against hers, careful not to let his cock press against her entrance, or she would have engulfed him before he was ready. The kisses were eager, rough, wet. Knowing that she was tasting herself on his face excited him. It took all his willpower not to make the little adjustment that was all it would have taken for him to press into her.

She was trying to slid her hips onto him, but he was keeping his cock pressed firmly and safely against her stomach. He buried his face in her neck, scoring it with his teeth. “Where’s the lube?”

“My... pussy first, don’t make me wait,” she gasped back.

“Where’s the lube?” he repeated, propping himself up on his arms and rolling to the side.

“Jesus, Mike, don’t do this to me!” she despaired, aware of the desperation in he voice, but not caring.

“If you won’t tell me, we can just try it without,” he offered, a strange quality in his voice, one she wasn’t sure she’d heard before.

“My purse,” she answered quickly, willing to concede that point. She was a tiny woman, and he was large in every way.

That took him aback. “Your purse?” he asked, a bit stupidly, as he processed. “You brought it to the wedding?”

“Just in case, you know, we got carried away at the reception and needed to find some dark corner.” She was enjoying his stunned surprise.

“Fuck! Just when I think I know you.... You’re saying that you were planning on...”

She cut him off, with a smile and a wink. “Baby, if you want to be wild, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Her hands were tied to the slatted headboard with the tie he had worn to their friends’ wedding. She was a tiny, almost elfin, woman. Her legs were spread; her pussy was wet and ready. She should have seemed helpless. In that moment, however, she glowed with power, thrummed with vitality and command. “Get the lube, babe,” she urged him.

He didn’t have to be told twice. After a brief fumble with her clutch, he found the small bottle of lube. His hands shook with eagerness as he pressed open the cap and squirted a generous amount onto his cock, now painful with need.

“Hurry up, please, it’s time,” she told him, her eyes hungrier than at any point yet.

“Jesus, what did I do to deserve a girl like you?” he asked, advancing on the bed and stroking his cock to spread the slipperiness.

A small smile played on her lips. She was enjoying the sight of her man, hard and powerful in every way. She knew they were both lucky. “Not nearly enough, hon,” she told him, teasing.

He got between her legs again, up on his knees. Without being told, she drew up her legs again, presenting herself completely. She rested her small feet on his chest, waiting. They didn’t do this often, and she felt the small twinge of apprehension that always preceded what was about to happen. Her husband was well endowed.

As she took several calming breaths, he touched the slick head of his cock against her asshole. At first she tensed but soon relaxed once again.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed, looking at her in that way that made her feel that no one had ever been desired as much as she was.

For some reason, she had always had a harder time talking about sex during sex. Revisiting their wedding night in blunt terms was much easier than this. “You know,” she said in a soft voice.

“Are you blushing?” He pressed against her sharply, not trying to penetrate her, just as an attention-getter.

“Shut up! It’s the wine. I get flushed when I have more than two glasses.”

“Then tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Fuck me. Please.” Her voice was quiet, almost shy.

He brought one hand down to her sodden pussy, using his thumb to rub her clit, playing her like an instrument. “You can do better than that,” he insisted. “Where?”

Her cheeks flaming, she met his eyes and said in a stronger voice, “Fuck me… in the ass.”

“Good girl,” he said, enjoying the flare of emotion in her eyes at the phrase that had so much power over her. “Say it again,” he told her, pressing more urgently against her backdoor, feeling it start to open.

She turned her head to the side. “No.”

He withdrew. “No?”


“You don’t want it?” he asked, running his left hand down the soft, muscular curve her of calf. His other hand continued to stroke her clit with expert skill. When she was on the edge again, he repeated the question. “You don’t want it?”

When she still didn’t answer, he stopped stroking her, prompting a sigh of frustration.

“I… want it,” she conceded. Sometimes not winning was all right.

“Want what?” he teased, pinching one of her nipples.

“You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”

“Just one more time, then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Fine, she thought, I’ll give him more than he thinks I have in me. “I want you to fuck me in the ass,” she said in a louder, more confident voice, prompting a smile from her husband.

She didn’t stop there, however. “I want you to push that big, throbbing cock in my tiny tight little asshole, and I want you to pound the living daylights out of me until you fill my ass with your hot cum.”

His eyes widened in disbelief. A dam had burst in her. “Jesus, babe,” he breathed, stunned, yet turned on beyond belief.

Slowly, inexorably, he pressed his large cockhead against her anus. The ring of muscle resisted briefly, and her eyes widened as he forced his way in. He was too turned on to be gentle, and he continued to push his way in, inch after relentless inch until he was completely inside her.

She gasped, getting used to the intrusion. Her wrists strained against his tie, and the knot holding the right one came undone. She brought her hand to her pussy and rubbed her clit as he began to pull back, far enough that he could see the ridge of the helmet just emerging from her anus before he slammed it back in, making her scream with pleasure-pain.

All the teasing, all the waiting, had been too much for both of them. He pounded into her like a teenager, and she met his every thrust with an answering thrust of her hips. She would be sore in the morning, but it didn’t matter now.

Her hand flew back and forth between her thighs, rubbing her pussy and clit with frantic, desperate speed. The entire room smelled of sex, and the sound of his hips slapping against hers grew even louder as he managed to intensify what he had just thought was all he was able to give.

He heard her voice urging him on, “Yeah babe, yeah babe,” in little mewling gasps, before he realized he was saying the same thing as he thrust into his wife’s tightly gripping ass with everything he had.

Pushing her feet off his chest, he lowered his body on top of hers, trapping her hand between them. They were both coated with sweat. His lips found hers, and her tongue pressed into his mouth, invading him as if in answer to his invasion below.

Soon, he felt her body tense in that familiar way, and he raised his head to look at her. When she came, every muscle in her body stood out in relief, and she looked like the tightly coiled gymnast she had once been. Her ass had been what he had noticed at the gymnastics meet at FPU. She had stuck it out in preparation for her first tumbling run, and he had jokingly said to the roommate who had dragged him to the meet, “I’m going to marry that girl.”

She broke the kiss to murmur the words she knew he loved to hear into his ear, “Oh, babe, I’m going to come!” then continued in her earlier, unaccustomed vein, “Your big cock is making me come so hard!”

Her rawer language drew the orgasm out of him. He pistoned into her, through her climax, as the cum boiled out of his balls and into her bowels like liquid fire. He hand fluttered weakly between their bodies, still able to coax aftershocks of her orgasm, as she tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed until her spasming body was exhausted and couldn’t come anymore.

He bellowed and grunted into her neck, feeling more like a rutting animal than a man until he had pumped the last drop of come into her ass. Only then did he recover his senses and smile at his wife, who lay limp beneath him, like a wrung-out rag.

They kissed deeply, and they both could still taste the evening’s wine on their lips, lingering beneath the stronger taste of sex. With a quick movement, he untied her hand and rolled off, his cock sliding out reluctantly from her ass.

“Ohh!” she said, feeling empty as a rush of his cum came out of her. She rubbed her wrist with her hand and kissed her husband again, throwing one leg over his body. “That was pretty intense.”

“What is it about weddings?” he responded.

“I don’t know,” she said, laying her head on his chest contentedly. “But we have another one next month.”

© Copyright 2019 oceanrunner. All rights reserved.

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