Bent Steel and Velvet Holes: A Savage Descent into Shared Lust
Strategic jumps: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
Chapter 1: Midnight Motel Grip
The cheap motel room off the interstate reeked of stale smoke and pine cleaner that didn’t quite mask it. Jake’s thick fingers gripped the rickety headboard, his knees digging into the sagging mattress. Lena, his sharp-tongued wife with fiery red curls cascading down her back, had him cuffed there, wrists raw from the metal biting just enough to sting. He was no stranger to rough rides—hell, as a burly construction foreman with tattooed arms like coiled ropes, he’d taken worse on sites—but this? This was her game tonight.
“You gonna behave, big boy?” Lena purred, her voice husky from the whiskey they’d shared on the drive. She knelt behind him, her small hands—painted nails like fresh blood—trailing over his muscled ass cheeks, spreading them wide. The air conditioner hummed like a dying wasp, chilling his sweat-slick skin.
Jake grunted, his thick cock already throbbing half-hard between his thighs, swaying like a pendulum. “What’s the fuckin’ plan, Lena? Spill it.”
She chuckled low, breath hot against his crack. “Patience, stud. Might tickle your fancy or twist it raw. ‘Red’ stops it cold unless I’m carving you up for real—and we both know you’d take the edge off first.” Her fingers wrapped his shaft from underneath, stroking slow, coaxing it to full mast. Veins bulged like rivers under her grip. Then, sneaky-like, she tugged it back toward his balls, bending the meaty length like a stubborn bowstring.
“Ow—fuck,” Jake hissed, hips bucking. But pain bloomed into that weird fire, sparks shooting up his spine.
“Hurtin’ yet?” She pulled harder, gravity yanking blood deeper, swelling him impossibly thicker.
“Nah… feels like a goddamn vice you crank for fun.” His voice cracked, balls tightening.
Lena mixed it up—strokes melting into bends, easing when he tensed, ramping when he moaned. “See? Tension’s better than any ring. Blood trapped, prick pulsing like it’s alive.” She yanked sharp once. “Too far?”
“Red light—shit, Margaret!” Jake barked his safeword, borrowed from some old joke they’d laughed over.
“Green now, twist-boy. Let’s crank it.” She released, watched it flop heavy between his legs, engorged but floppy. Bent it back full, pulling till his knuckles whitened on the rail. “Pullin’ a tractor with this beast? Impressive. Turns me on, you takin’ it.”
Pride swelled in Jake’s chest amid the ache—masculine, exposed, hers. She slackened, tugged again, rhythm like waves crashing. Then, cool slickness kissed his pucker. He clenched instinctive.
“Easy, tiger. Baby plug for rookies. Breathe out, let it claim you.” Lube-smeared, it nudged in—a pinprick stretch vanishing quick. Odd fullness, not pain, just there, pressing inward secrets.
“Men go nuts for this, anal buzz. You’ll beg later.” She vanished to the bathroom; he knelt, adapting, cock twitching forgotten. Minutes dragged, senses sharpening—the musty sheets’ grit under knees, distant truck rumbles vibrating the walls.
She returned, blindfold swallowing light. Plop—out it came, relief flooding. “Better?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Back in it goes.” Repeated, slick slides in-out, body learning. Then bigger—stubborn pressure. “Welcome it, unclench.”
He did, gasping as it seated. Her hand milked his cock while she pumped the invader slow. Discomfort twisted erotic, hardness surging. “Knew you’d crave it, my dirty pup.”
“Fuck no—wait, bigger? Hell no!”
Too late—colder, metal now, stretching sphincter to scream-point. “Margaret!” he writhed.
“Perfect fit. Move helps pop it.” It did, narrow neck locking in. Panting ragged, he endured as she jerked him lubed, nudged the intruder. Prostate woke—electric jolts, alien bliss. He erupted, ropes splattering sheets, salty tang hitting nostrils.
“Out—now!” Post-climax, it chafed.
“Uncuff yourself, tail-boy. Might be shit-show messy. Hurts worse yankin’ free.” Blindfold off, cuffs loose—he staggered to mirror. Fluffy fox tail sprouted from his ass. Laughter bubbled from her; he joined, barking like a dog. “Arf! Fuckin’ joke’s on me.”
Bathroom hell: yank burned fire, brown smear on TP. He cleaned furious, emerging sheepish. She’d stashed it. Lesson one: ass owned new doors.
Chapter 2: Highway Tease and Loft Confessions
Weeks later, asphalt blurred under tires as they hauled to a mountain Airbnb loft—open beams, king bed on mezzanine overlooking pines that whispered wind-scented secrets. Jake, fresh-showered post-site grit, sprawled naked save tail plug he’d prepped per her text. Clean routine now rote: enema flush, lube glove-up.
Lena sipped wine, emerald eyes devouring. “Missed yankin’ your leash-cock? Warm-up tonight?”
He nodded, sheepish heat flushing neck. Rare spice amid vanilla fucks—her riding reverse, mouth worshipping his girth, her screams under his pounding. This? Infrequent fire.
She strapped on, veiny silicone beast warmed sink-hot, condom sheathed hygienic. “Suck it first?” Taste rubber-bittersweet; he gagged polite no-more.
“Nah, straight to pound-town. Birthday wish: you my girlie slut once.” Lingerie revival—black lace bra cupping pecs absurd, garters framing thighs, stockings silk-smooth.
Embarrassment burned cheeks, but her glee fueled surrender. “Red stops me. Don’t waste it—I need this fantasy.”
Paraded, tail swishing, called “sexy bitch.” Cuffed to bedpost, bent ass-high, blindfolded dark. She fumbled entry—inexpert thrusts, voice gravel-manly. Blindness honed feel: girth stretching, prostate kissing sparks.
“Nice… fuller than plugs.”
“Knew it’d hook you.” Lube slurp, deeper glides. Regret hit on pull-out—emptiness aching. Re-entry slow, strokes honing expert. “Oh fuck—good!”
“Love you, slut-wife.”
Perfume shift? Grunt deeper? Blindfold shadows danced—voice cracked: “Margaret!” Motion halted.
Lena giggled. “Oops, pet. Meet Derek—gym buddy, bi-top extraordinaire. Tory-hater like restrictions chafe him. Continue?”
Stunned silence. Derek resumed, slamming fierce. Funny twist, pleasure surging—braced, ass clenching velvet vice. “Fuck the chains! Pound that bitch-hole!” Derek roared climax, pulses flooding condom deep. Jake spilled untouched, shame-bliss cocktail.
Blindfold shed: Derek fit, shaved cock drooping latex-load. Open ass winked air-cool. “Jake, my man’s Derek. Labour gym rat.”
“We sparred once,” Derek grinned. “Tight grip even then.”
Lena smirked. “Safeword’s mine-only. You loved it—admit.”
Blushing yes. Derek vouched: “Prime ass—tight, eager. My Kyle’d cream hearing.” Kyle, his sub-hubby, greenlit anonymous first for both.
Flashback hit Jake: site coffee chat with Derek, politics dodged. Now? Ass reamed by rival.
Cleanup mutual—her sucking him clean, him fingering her gush. Loft echoed moans anew. Threshold crossed; cravings seeded. 💋
Chapter 3: Loft Double-Dip Orgy
🔥
Derek and Kyle’s urban loft screamed excess: exposed brick, king platform bed fogged by moans, scent of leather and sweat heavy. Jake arrived prepped—plug-tailed, showered sterile. New scene: public tease flashback. En route, Lena’d made him drive pantless in truck cab, hand-jerking bent-back while semis thundered past. “Leak for truckers, tail-boy,” she’d cooed. Precum slicked dash; shame horn-hard.
Entry kiss: Lena-Kyle lips smacked wet. Partners swapped vibes. Jake stripped, wiggled tail; Kyle howled. “Hot damn—furry fucktoy!”
Derek presented meat to Kyle—loving suck, condom roll. Jake bent couch-arm, ass parted. Derek plucked tail gentle, finger-probed slick. “Man-pussy primed.”
Cockhead nudged—micro-thrusts blooming full hilt. “Ahh!” synced gasps. Not fuck—massage. Prostate milked expert, cock dribbling strand pearls. Respect dawned: gay craft sublime. Minutes stretched ecstatic.
Kyle cheered: “Derek’s gold—mine though!” Shift: birthday savage. Pants heaved, slams brutal. Jake braced wall-rattling. “Rip that fuckin’ hole! Drain me!” Derek bellowed, buried pulsing. Jake milked dry, puddle forming.
Lena whisked him bath-ward, towels segregated. “Kyle needs alone-time.” Skirt-hiked, she bent tub-edge. “Your turn—plow mama.” Fingers clit-rubbed furious as he hilted soppy cunt. Flood mutual, stayed plugged her orgasm-shudders.
Emerging: robes donned, grins wide. “Blissed?” Kyle beamed.
“Hell yes.” Tea, sandwiches—social thaw. Bookshelves: sci-fi stacks, kink manuals veiled. Kyle confessed kid-lit hoard: “Clean tales amid filth.”
Thrill voiced: lovers watching swaps electric. “Occasional only,” Lena vowed. “Friends, not fiends.” Jake swore straight; chuckles echoed doubts. Derek’s skill addictive poison.
New beat: post-chat circle-jerk. Hands roamed free—Jake’s paw on Lena’s thigh, Derek’s on Kyle. Tension simmered unspoken rematch.
Chapter 4: Anniversary Ambush Roleplay
Combined birthdays-anniversary: city hotel penthouse, skyline glittering like shattered diamonds. Prep obsessive—lines memorized, costumes scavenged. Twist: Jake ambushes as alpha boss, Lena secretary-seductress; Derek-Kyle underlings plotting revenge.
Door knock. Jake in power suit, salt-pepper hair slicked, barked executive growl: “Enter, peons!” Lena as vixen aide, blouse sheer-nippled.
Derek gawped; Kyle mustache-faux, twang accent: “Mr. Hardcock, sir. Contender Vance here—union buster extraordinaire.”
“Vance? Joined payroll evasion and ass-kissing honors?” Jake boomed, patting crotch-bulge.
Lena poured scotch, ice clinking seductive. Sat prim, legs crossed stocking-whisper. Banter vicious: mocked eco-freaks, lazy crews, “fairy unions stranglin’ profits.” Prejudices cartoon-extreme, guts ached laughter-suppressed.
Pause: “Lena, desk duty—take Hardcock’s dictation.” Wiggle pronounced dick-tation.
Bedroom moans scripted: “Yes sir! Deeper memo!” Bedframe thumped farce.
Return disheveled—Lena skirt hiked panty-flash. “Acquaint deeper, Vance. We clock out.”
Alone, Jake feigned: “Suspenders snag—bedroom assist?” Skirt hiked—no undies, cheeks spread. Derek lunged, knob breaching eager. Urgent rams—no love, raw rut. Grunts animal: “Boss-hole milks me! Take promotion!” Climax quake, seed wasted rubber.
New scene: post-fuck flip. Kyle claimed ass sloppy-second, Derek throat-fucked Jake novice-gag. Lena rode face, cunt musk drowning. Senses overload: salty pre, ass-sting, her juices tart flood.
Flashback wove: first site meet Derek—sparring match, sweat-mingled grunts prefiguring now. Hotel reeked sex-cum, sheets crust tomorrow.
Collapse heap—bodies tangled, breaths sync. “One-up next year?” Kyle winked. Cravings chained tighter.
Chapter 5: Mountain Peak Surrender and Endless Cravings
💋
Climax Airbnb redux—snow-dusted peaks framed windows, fire crackling cedar-sharp. All four converged, boundaries blurred. Jake, now ass-veteran, begged tail pre-warmup. Cock-yank ritual: Lena tugged balcony-view, chill nipping balls as Derek watched smirking.
“Bend for crowd,” she commanded. Blind no—eyes locked Derek’s as entry split. Kyle filmed discreet, phones whirring low.
Prostate symphony: Derek slow-grind, Kyle balls-deep alternate. Jake’s roar echoed valley. “Tag-team my guts! Wreck me!” Double-pen attempted—stretch inferno, lubed frenzy. Lena straddled, cunt devouring his tongue while Derek’s thrusts relayed up her grind.
New conflict: jealousy flicker—Jake eyed Kyle’s lithe form writhing Lena. But pleasure quelled: Vance’s cock vacuumed expert, pulling grunts symphony.
Outdoor twist: snow patio, naked steam-rising. Jake bent rail, Derek plowing frost-bite edge. Wind howled moans carrier; ass clenched heat vs. cold snap. Climax fountain—ropes arcing snow-melt.
Indoor wind-down: massage circle. Oils slick-slid, fingers probing lazy. Confessions spilled: Jake admitted bi-spark. “Derek’s prick rewired me—straight no more.”
Lena beamed possessive. “Ours to share. Quarterly quotas?” Agreements tentative, lust eternal.
Dawn broke golden, bodies spent-sore. Jake’s hole throbbed tender reminder—plug reinserted tail-wag farewell. Drive home buzzed silence, hands intertwined promises filthy returns. Steel bent, velvet claimed; no chains unbreakable in bliss-forged fire.
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