A Spy In The House of Love

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I come to him in the darkness, my heart racing, my hands trembling. Just as you have bidden, my love.

It takes all of my courage not to turn and retreat from the room. Instead I brush back the sheer white curtains which surround the bed. He waits for me within, lying back amid the silken sheets, tall and dark and oh-so-handsome. Oh my love, he is handsome! His ebony skin looks so sensuous and smooth in the dark moonlight, his body so strong and virile. His chest so muscled, his neck and chin so kissable. And his eyes… oh, my love, his eyes! My heart skips a beat, for he’s watching me, smiling, his beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness. Waiting for me. Lusting for me. I can’t help but blush and look away, glancing lower to where the silken sheets lie partly across his midsection, obscuring his passion but for a telltale bulge. Just seeing that unmistakable bulge inspires in me an excited tingling. I wish I could see it bared, my love, that I could know what to expect.

He says nothing, only waits for me. I hesitate and then join him on the bed, my heart racing, moving to him slowly on my knees. Oh my love, he’s so handsome! I’m not sure what to do. You haven’t told me what to expect, or what to do, save to come to him in this darkened room, in this strange hotel, and to obey him without hesitation, and without exception. I shudder to think of how you stressed that last part to me, my love: without exception…

I force a nervous smile and touch my necklace gently, then my neck, tracing the neckline of my nightgown with my fingers. I’m naked underneath. I left my clothes at the door, my love, just like you told me to.

“Do you like it?” I ask softly in the darkness, seeing how his eyes follow my fingers. “My husband said you would like me to wear–“

But he stops me with a finger on my lips, and a smile. He props himself up on one elbow and follows his finger with his lips, kissing me, not even giving me time to protest. I’m not prepared for his lips. I’ve prepared myself for everything else, my love, but not his lips. Not on mine, kissing me the way you kiss me. I’ve prepared myself for his fingers, my love, and his penis, but not his lips.

“You’re very lovely,” he tells me in the darkness. His voice is low and husky, the kind of voice that always stirs something so deep inside me… as it does now. “Your husband’s description of you doesn’t do you justice.”

I blush in the darkness. He’s sweet to say so, though I expect he’s had much prettier, and certainly much younger.

He traces the neckline of my gown with his fingers, the way I traced it before. I catch my breath as his fingers venture dangerously close to my breasts. Yet they retreat without touching, without exploring. Instead he fingers my necklace, my favorite little heart shaped one which you gave me so long ago, my love, the one which I hold so dear. The one inside which is a picture of you, so I may always hold you close to my heart.

“Your husband said you have certain limits.”

My heart skips a beat. “Yes sir,” I say quietly in the darkness. “I don’t like to–“

“Not here.”

I hesitate. Not here? Whatever does he mean?

He smiles and touches the strap of my nightgown, the one on my right shoulder, coaxing it gently off until it slips free. “There are no limits here, my little slut.” And the left strap, coaxing that one off my shoulder as well. “Not here in my bed…”

I shudder, both that there should be no limits, and that he should call me a slut. I’m not a slut! I’ve only been with one person, until tonight. Only one man, my love. Only you. Oh god. And now…

He helps my nightgown down with his fingers, baring my breasts. Touching them gently in the darkness, exploring them, lifting them as if testing their sag. Leaning forward to kiss my nipples, first one and then the other. Oh, my love, how exquisite his lips feel! How soft and gentle, and so delightfully unfamiliar.

“Did your husband tell you that?”

I nod in the darkness. “Yes sir.”


I hesitate. “And I understand.”

He chuckles. He kisses each of my breasts again, and the gentle valley between. And then moving lower, slowly coaxing my nightgown down with his fingers and following close behind with his lips.

“Good. Now lie back.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. I lie back on the silken sheets, their cool caress so gentle and luxurious beneath me. My head comes to rest on pillows which seem softer than any I’ve ever felt before. I lie with my hands at my sides, for I’m not sure what else to do with them. He’s between my legs now, having coaxed them apart gently, kneeling and taking my nightgown down slowly, his lips following behind. Kissing between my breasts, and then just below, and then down to my belly and my navel, and lower still. I stiffen in the darkness as he slips my nightgown down past my hips, and down my legs and off, tossing it aside in the darkness and kissing me there, just above my pussy, where no man’s atalar escort lips but yours have ever touched me.

He chuckles in the darkness. “You have a lovely pussy. Did you shave it just for me?”

I blush and nod. I did shave it just for him, just like you told me to my love, knowing as I did that he should like to find me that way. And he does, for he explores me now with his fingers and his lips, tracing along my gentle, hairless slit, and then between my folds, pushing a thick finger up inside my tightness and touching me where only you have ever touched me before. I blush and tighten on him instinctively. And soon he even explores beneath me, slipping his fingers down between my bottom cheeks and touching my little rosebud gently, searching for hairs though I’ve shaven there too. I stiffen as his fingers linger, afraid that he’s going to explore me there too, where I’ve never let any man have me, not even you my love. But he doesn’t, and a moment later he slips his fingers from beneath me and touches me higher again, between my thighs, coaxing me to spread my legs still wider. And before I know it his lips are on me, kissing my gentle mound, the touch of his lips so electric on my hairless skin.

In a sudden panic borne of embarrassment I coax him to look up at me, my fingers under his chin. “May I ask you a question first, sir?” I ask softly.

He smiles and nods.

“Please… what is your name?”

But he only smiles and presses his lips back to my mound. I shudder even as his tongue searches between my wet folds. Oh god, my love… am I not even to know his name?

I’m not, apparently. But I’m also of no mind to ask again, or plead, despite my desperation to know, for his tongue is inside me now, flicking between my folds and into my tightness, exploring me deeply. And then higher, retreating from my tightness for just a moment to trace little circles around my hooded clit, and to even tease the hood back and find my little bud. I stiffen and gasp. He knows just how to touch me, how to lick me… how to tease me. Have you told him, my love? He teases my clit for only a moment before he moves back down to push his tongue between my folds once again. His fingers are on me all over, on my hips and my belly and my thighs, stroking me gently.

For the longest time I lie there in the darkness, whimpering and gasping and staring down at the top of his head, feeling his lips and tongue and fingers on me, and inside me. Feeling him tease me so close to orgasm, but not over. Did you tell him how, my love? Or does he just know? And the whole time I can think of only one thing: that I don’t even know his name.

Soon I can’t help but move my hands from my sides, slipping them between my legs and finding my hooded clit with my fingers. But my lover chuckles and pushes my hands away in the darkness, replacing them with his own. Tracing little circles around my bud for the longest, most delightfully tormenting time, before finally fastening his lips in their place and with his gently flicking tongue drawing me finally over that delicious edge.

Oh my love, I didn’t expect this! Not at all!

I come quietly in the darkness, on his fingers and his tongue and his lips, stiffening and gasping even as he continues to pleasure me. He doesn’t stop, not even when I clutch the bedsheets and curl my toes, not even when I press my thighs to his head and hold him trapped there, riding his mouth desperately in the darkness. Gasping and whimpering, and then grasping him by the hair and making him move just so, just how I like when I come. Sliding my feet along his sides and digging my toes in, enjoying the feel of his supple skin even through the haze of my passion.

I return to my senses to find him smiling up at me in the darkness, watching me with amusement. I blush, embarrassed that he should have seen me in my most private of moments, that he should have seen me in the throes of a passion that had been coaxed forth by his lips and tongue and fingers, and not yours, my love.

He moves up and lies beside me, presses his hand to my belly and strokes me softly even as I tremble. He waits patiently for me to recover, to catch my breath. In the darkness he slips his hand between my legs, pushing one and then two fingers up into my clutching tightness and stroking me gently, just how I like to be stroked after orgasm. And soon he kisses me, first on my shoulder and then on my ear, his voice soft and husky.

“There’s lubrication on the nightstand.”

I blush. “I… I’m already wet.”

But he only chuckles. “Get it.”

I reach for it hesitantly, parting the sheer curtains around the bed and finding it by touch in the darkness. My heart skips a beat to feel the tube in my hands. To know what it means, and to know that its for him, my love, and not for you.

He makes me apply it to him. He doesn’t have to tell me, or even coax me, but I somehow know its expected of me. I find him ataşehir escort in the darkness, blushing as my fingers encircle his unfamiliar penis. He’s already stiffly erect, my love, his lust for me unmistakable. I can’t help but shiver, to think that soon I will feel him inside me, where no one but you has ever been.

I squeeze lubrication along his length and spread it with my fingers, touching him gently, hesitantly. Encircling him with my fingers and stroking him bashfully, coating him, making sure the slipperiness covers his entire penis. I masturbate him slowly. He trembles and stiffens in my fingers, and I can’t help but cup his balls with my other hand, testing them. He’s full, my love… desperately full. I wonder if he’s saved himself for tonight, if he’s saved himself for me. I shiver at that thought, to think that all these nights when I’ve lain in bed with you, my love, that he might have been out there somewhere thinking of me, and lusting for me.

Soon he coaxes my fingers from him, and bids me to roll over onto my back. My heart races. Oh god, my love… it’s time! He’s between my legs now, his eyes glinting in the darkness, his erection glistening as it thrusts out poised just above my slit like an awaiting invader. He leans down and kisses me gently on my lips, at the same time urging my legs up until my knees are at my chest, holding them there by tucking his shoulders beneath. And still kissing me, more passionately now, even as I feel his swollen penis nudge at my folds. I shiver. I’m so terribly open to him in this position, so hopelessly vulnerable. I blush and put my hands on his sides, clutching him tightly. I want to feel him as he penetrates me, my love. As he violates me.

He moves lower. I blush to feel him at my tighter hole. And then I panic as he pushes gently.

“You’re too low!” I gasp in the darkness.

But he chuckles, his voice low and husky. “I’m right where I want to be.”

I tighten beneath him, shuddering at his words. “Please! No one has ever–“

He captures my lips with his, stopping my words with a kiss even as he presses against my tightness. “That may be, but I’m going to. It’s why you’re here tonight. Now hush. And relax.”

I try to, but I can’t. I’m too scared, and much too tight. And yet, in the end, not nearly tight enough. For soon he breaches me, the slipperiness and insistence of his erection to much for my tightly clenched rosebud. It happens slowly at first, almost imperceptibly. I whimper and tighten, only to feel him sink into me anyway, just the head, cool with lubrication. I gasp.

“Oh please…”

He kisses me again, and this time his lips stay on mine, stifling further protest as he pushes a little deeper. Easing into me little by little, withdrawing and then easing in again. Working at my tightness, my reluctance. He pauses for a moment and uses his fingers, penetrating me deeply with one and then two, spreading the cool lubrication. And then his penis again, making me gasp as he pushes it in without warning.

“Please, you’re too deep.”

He chuckles. “I’m not nearly deep enough. Not yet.”

Soon he is deep inside me. Painfully deep. It’s a deepness like I’ve never felt before, unpleasant and shamefully illicit. I blush in the darkness just to feel him inside me back there, to feel him taking me like this. And I whimper. Not because I’m embarrassed, or shamed, or anything, but because it hurts. He’s thick and I’m unprepared, and my bottom hole aches awfully, especially inside where his thick penis violates me so deeply.

And then he begins moving. He does it slowly at first, watching me intently, not taking his eyes off mine for even a second. I wince and clutch his arms, gasping at the unpleasant withdrawal. He does it only a little the first time, before pushing back in. Then a little more the next time, and the next still more, until — my god! — he’s actually having me there. Oh my love, he’s sodomizing me!

I blush and whimper beneath him as he eases from my clutching tightness only to push back in anew, and deeply. Beginning a slow rhythm that takes from me my breath with each deep thrust.

“You’re tight,” he grunts in my ear. I whimper and clutch his arms tighter, digging my fingernails in. I open my mouth to beg him to stop, to please switch and take me the right way, but instead what comes out makes me blush.

“Please… go slow.”

He chuckles, and in the darkness he does go slow… at least at first. There’s no other way. I’m just too tight, and too new, for him to have me otherwise. He kisses me deeply, passionately, even as he moves inside me. Taking me slowly as I become accustomed to the presence of his erection inside me back there. I groan into his mouth, even as he kisses me. His penis stretches me so uncomfortably, prods so deeply. It feels so unnatural and so shameful each time it slips from my tightly clutching bottom, only to press back in anew.

He sodomizes avcılar escort me like this for a long time, seeming in no hurry to reach his end. I blush and shiver in the darkness. That’s what it is, isn’t it? Sodomy? My love, he’s sodomizing me! I wonder if you planned this, if you knew. Or has he taken this without your knowledge, my love? That thought gives me pause for a moment. Oh my love, will you still love me after this? After I’ve been in another man’s arms, and on his penis? After I’ve come on his lips? After he’s taken from me my last virginity?

At long last my lover pulls out of my bottom, and for a moment cool air tickles my raw insides so soothingly. He applies more lubrication and then he rolls me over onto my side. As I lie facing away from him he snuggles up behind me, coaxes my knees back up to my chest, and breaches my tight bottom hole again.

I gasp and whimper. He’s deep inside me quickly this time. The position is a little easier and the fresh lubrication on his cock helps, but I’m also simply more stretched and open to him now. His thrusts are quicker now, deeper and more uncomfortable. And yet as I whimper he reaches around and tucks his hand between my legs, searching for my clit. I gasp as he finds it. Oh, how wonderful his fingers feel, my love! And how delightfully lewd his cock feels, so deep inside me back there! I blush in shame as I feel the beginnings of pleasure, brought forth by his fingers on my clit. The sweet tingle softens the rawness I feel in my bottom, the fullness, the discomfort… the shame. I can’t help but reach down and cover his hand with my own, following his movements even as I smile in the darkness.

It happens quickly. One second I’m whimpering and squirming on his fingers and cock, embarrassed to feel him so deep and in such an unnatural place, and the next I’m gasping as a powerful orgasm washes over me. He keeps his fingers on my clit, teasing me delightfully, coaxing me over the edge until I gasp and sob. And as I clench on him in the throes of my pleasure, my head light and my whole body tingling, he begins fucking my bottom still faster, sodomizing me deeply, his concern for my pleasure past. He uses me to completion, which happens quickly now as I clench on him in my passion. Through the haze I hear him grunt, and feel him jerk and throb inside me, spilling his seed so deeply in my bottom. The thought that he’s spurting inside me back there, where no man has ever had me nor ever should have had me, shamefully prolongs my own pleasure. I can’t help but whimper and shudder in his arms, smiling in the darkness and enjoying the feel of his orgasm inside me, and how he trembles against my backside, and how he groans and relaxes when his passion is finally past.

We lie together in the darkness for a long time, not speaking. His penis softens inside me and slips from my tightness, leaving behind a burning soreness in my rectum. And wetness. I can feel it between my bottom cheeks, though whether it’s the lubrication or his come I have no idea. I shudder to think that it might be his come, seeping from within my tightness. Or at least, what used to be my tightness.

“You were splendid,” he tells me softly, kissing my shoulder and my neck. “Very tight. And so lovely. Your husband is very lucky.”

I don’t say anything, only smile in the darkness. I’d forgotten about you, my love, if only for a moment. Only in the throes of my passion.

In the darkness he leaves me with a final, tender kiss on my shoulder, slipping out of bed behind me. I don’t move. I can’t move. I listen to him dress in the darkness. I want to watch him, but I can’t bring myself to. I wish I could cover myself with the sheets, but I can’t bring myself to do that either. I blush, knowing he’s probably gazing upon my nakedness as he dresses. Seeing the flush in my skin, and the telltale sheen that must certainly peek from between my bottom, the unmistakable remnants of his passion.

There’s no sound for the longest time, save my own labored breathing, and the pounding of my heart. Even now it refuses to still. And at long last he comes to me again, behind me, the bed sagging, his lips coming on my ear.

But it’s not him at all… it’s you, my love! I can tell immediately, even without turning to see. I can smell your sweet cologne, and feel your familiar caress, and the way you fasten your lips on my earlobe and nibble. And then your tender, loving voice, whispering in my ear.

“Did you enjoy him, my love?”

I smile and reach back in the darkness, slipping my fingers into your soft hair. I don’t say anything, only part my legs as I feel your hand between them, exploring. I don’t have to say anything. You find the answer to your question with your fingers, slipping them along my narrow slit and between the folds, and then up inside my wetness with one and then two fingers. Penetrating me so easily, and so deeply.


You roll me… not over onto my back, as I expect, but onto my stomach. Coaxing my legs apart in the darkness. My heart races and I feel myself moisten anew as my legs caress the silken sheets and as you move between them. My love… you’re naked already! I can feel your bare legs against mine, brushing the insides of my thighs, your soft hair tickling me so delightfully. When did you undress, my love? I didn’t hear you.

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