Page 170 of Westin

“Oh God,” she gasps as the vibrator slips from her body.

I don’t speak. Eyes glued to her ruined face, I put my middle and ring fingers into my wife’s tight little cunt. She sobs, tears slipping fast down her cheeks.

But she doesn’t safeword me.

Her pussy is tight and soaked around me. Entranced, I rub my fingers over her inner muscles until I find it, that swollen place I know she wants to release. Our eyes meet, hers desperate, mine hard and empty.

“One more,” I say firmly.

“I don’t know, sir,” she whimpers, shaking her head.

“One more for me, baby girl,” I say softly. “This time, let go of everything. Alright?”

She sniffs. “Yes, sir.”

Her voice is fragile. She’s hanging on by a thread. I take a sip from my glass with one hand, and with the other, I stroke where it hurts, where she needs to come. Her lips tremble, her thighs shiver.

“I can feel…it, sir,” she whispers. “You…touching me, inside.”

“I know, baby. I know you feel it,” I urge. “Let your hips relax...like that. Good girl.”

She gasps, breasts heaving, making the chain rattle. I slide my thumb up and rub her clit back and forth.

“Fuck,” she moans.

“One more, darling,” I urge. “Just give me one more.”

Her hips tighten and relax, ebbing with the wave of impending orgasm. I see it like a storm in the spring, soft, smelling faintly of arousal and her sweet, flowery perfume.

I dig my fingers deeper like she’s ripe fruit. I need to get to her center.

My cock is so hard it aches. It’s hot and heavy, so sensitive, I feel every little movement.

I need her to come.

Then, she does, unwinding as it hits her from head to toe. I drain the glass as her pussy tightens. My eyes fall to my wet knuckles, to the wasted arousal soaking the chair.

Such a waste.

She’s so sweet, I could drink her neat.

Her head falls back as she comes so hard, she stops breathing. It’s distracting enough that she doesn’t see me slip the crystal glass between her thighs. She doesn’t know she releases in a short gush that fills it a third of the way. My brain buzzes. My entire body tingles.

My head is empty.

She collapses, only held up by the cuffs. I rise, taking the glass and bolting the first half, letting the taste of my wife spread over my tongue, drip down my throat, course through my veins.

My hands wind in her hair at the nape of her neck. Her lips part, and I drain the rest of the glass. Her eyes flash as it disappears into my mouth. Realization dawns on her, but she doesn’t stop.

She doesn’t safeword me.

I set the glass aside, take her jaw in my hand to part her lips, and spit her into her own mouth. Our eyes lock. She knows what I did. Then, her throat bobs, and she swallows everything I gave her.

“Fuck, darling,” I say. “That’s my good girl.”

She moans in response—it’s all she has left. I unfasten the cuffs and lift her, tossing her gently to the bed. Her body softens, her thighs spreading. I push the toys off the side and tug her slip down until she’s naked except for the clamps on her nipples and that silk garter.

I drag my mouth over her belly. My cock throbs against my lower abs.

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