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Dec 24 2015

A Spicey Christmas Eve Tale…..

Christmas Eve and the last of our guests are leaving. We stand at the front door together… me tucked warmly under his arm as we watch and wave towards the last car pulling out of our driveway. He pulls me tighter into him and I look up into his gorgeous face and those warm eyes that only long for me. He leans down pulling me up closer and gently kisses my forehead. My hand is around him, resting on his muscled ass.

Closing the door behind us, we walk back to the living room. I settle by the fire and he grabs the bottle of red and our glasses from the dining room table. Christmas music (Bing Crosby, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra) plays in the background as he settles beside me on the floor. The sparkling Christmas lights from the carefully decorated tree we spent a whole day picking out and fusing over fills the semi dark room casting the perfect amount of light to set the mood. His warmth snuggles up to me as we lean against the couch and breathe in the calmness. The echoing of laughter and joy still hanging in the air.

“They love you.” He whispers as he nuzzles my neck.

“No darling, they love us.” I turn into him, my hands running along his handsome face knowing that what they love is the energy that lives between us.

The low lights, the warmth, the Christmas tunes by the greats we both love…the Christmas Eve party a huge success. A casual wonderful time of friends and laughter. My friends liking him, him liking them, and of course us; as a couple. Our beaming faces confirming our union once again.

My mind wanders to barely two weeks ago and my attending that party in the next town over. The get together my friend spoke of saying she knew everyone who would be there. Her convincing me to go. To not dwell on how long it had been since he and I had spoken.

The suburbs of the house. The fine wines. The dressed for an elegant party and my dreaded mingling. Then someone talking. Someone talking about the basement and I stand discrete but close enough to listen. The obvious BDSM references and the casual interest of the faces. Long time practitioners, seasoned. I think to myself.  I’m part of another discussion group but listening intently to the other. The basement is mentioned again and there’s a warmth in my stomach. A female guest speaks of whipping and my pussy stirs. My interest piqued.

The party now in full swing and I make my way to the kitchen. The hallway just off the kitchen reveals the basement door. I linger, trying the salmon. A man from the BDSM conversation group appears and casually goes to the basement door. He opens, goes down and leaves the door slightly open. Curious and feeling a strong pull I walk over to the door and descend. Just to see, just to check it out. Thoughts running over in my mind all of my reasons in case I’m asked. The conversation I accidentally overheard. My curiosity.

I take in the ambiance of the finished basement. The large space, dark rich colors and obvious BDSM theme. Long time practitioners, for sure. I nod to myself. I see the man I followed standing there, wine glass in hand, watching three men in the middle of the room. I come up beside him and he nods to me.

“Enjoying the party?” His voice low, polite. He turns back to watch as I politely answer, “Yes.”

The men are naked. The man in the middle of them, naked and hooded. I take in the sight of the hooded man in the center and the obvious of the situation. Thick and erected cocks are before me and the hooded man, without warning, punched in the stomach. He drops down to his knees. I wonder at the identity of the man as I watch the back and forth of the two standing men’s cocks slapping immediate and hard on the third man’s hooded head. The mouth zipper is found and opened. The teeth and lips inside are spread and one of the Doms steps up close and over the hooded man, stuffing his cock in. The hooded sub drops to his back and the Dom is over him; legs out. The muscled tripod and his cock deep into the hood. The hot ‘male on male’ of it and I’m staring. Eyes fixed. Breathing out as electric sparks ignite inside me.

The muscled Dom pulls out, stands and is handed a whip by the other Dom. The hooded sub goes to his knees and the Dom starts whipping. Circling. Whipping. The snap of the black leather and the lines, deep red and crisscrossing. A classic whipping and my one hand holds my glass as the other desires to stroke between my legs.

I continue to stand along side the man I followed. Barely ten feet away. Both of us watching as the viciousness of the whipping slows and stops. The other Dom now pushes the sub down to his hands and knees. Elbows down, ass up, the huge of the Dom’s cock, muscular and erect. The saliva increases in my mouth and my cunt, soaking as I stare. The Dom goes hands down on the sub’s back, crouching to position his cock. I breathe in deeply as I watch the lunge in the next moment and his easily ten inch cock going in halfway. The muffled scream from the hood and the muscled crab walking forcing cock in of the next seconds. The forearms down crawling forward sub and the Dom behind. The horse cock fucking Dom behind as the sub’s crawling is stopped by the ass fucking gone brutal. The punishing fuck more of an ass rape and my pulse racing, my eyes staring, wondering what that man had done to deserve the punishment. The groan of the Dom and his cumming. The obvious of his ejaculation, his lengthen cock pulling out and his stepping away. The scene of the raped, beaten, crouching and head down on the hard floor of the hooded sub displayed before me. My heart is pounding and I sense a need to reach out to him.

I feel a touch at my shoulder. An envelope is handed to me by the man standing by my side. I’m surprise and confused as I take the envelope and looking down see it’s addressed to me. My hands start to shake and my mind races at what bizarre turn of events this night has taken.  As I open the envelope, the two Doms stand next to the sub and open his hood, lifting it away. I recognize the fine elegant paper note in my hands as the kind used by my absent lover. In his perfect penmanship is a handwritten apology to me. I look up from it and see it’s him crouched on the floor before me. The messed up of his hair from the hood. The reddened abused of his face. The glittery steel in his eyes as he stares into mine. I’m shocked at the length and measure he’d go to in expressing his sorrow in disappointing me. I sigh as I remember that look of sorrow in his eyes.

I look down at him now by my side in the warmth and afterglow of a celebrated evening with friends. Our bodies once again bonded. The memory of that night forged in my soul. My hand reaches and rests on his crotch.

“And how is my beautiful cock doing?” I ask as my fingers run along the curve of the steel bars of his cock cage through his slacks. My other hand behind him. Casual, playful, gently rubbing and feeling for the bandage I discreetly applied on the overzealous welt I place there this morning.

He feels my touch and I watch a smile spread across his face. A sincere smile of love. The chastised smile only I can see just beneath. My eyes find peace in his. No more sorrow. Our worlds going back to complete once again.

 

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Merry Christmas ~ Vista

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1 comment

  1. deviantfocker

    Riveting!

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