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The entire week, Marissa had been leaving the house early and arriving late. Early and late enough to avoid Benji. It wasn’t fear, she kept telling herself. She just didn’t want to give into the temptation he represented. It was bad enough that she couldn’t stop thinking of him. So, she’d been packing a tote and going to the gym, then spending the rest of the day out. She was playing it safe. Patrick had been scheduled for a week long conference. Marissa had been afraid that Benji would come to the house in the evening, but her fears had been unfounded. Every night, she’d wandered the house in a state of nervous arousal. She didn’t want him to come, but at the same time, her body throbbed for his touch again. This suffocating need scared her. She’d turned to her fingers, her vibrators, her thickest dildos, to try and satisfy the ache at her core. Nothing seemed to help. Marissa was anxious for Patrick to get home. She was hoping that a bit of romance and actual sex would get Benji off of her mind. Thursday, as she’d unlocked the door, she’d found a note from him. It had been short and to the point. He’d stated that he would be in at noon the next day. Marissa had sighed with relief. She’d be able to enjoy her usual morning routine. Friday morning, she woke suddenly from a twisting, fevered dream involving some seriously depraved sex. Sitting up in bed, she panted and trembled, her core twitching and pulsing on the verge of orgasm. She wiped at her sweaty brow, then kicked the covers off and padded unsteadily to the bathroom. It had been Benji in her dreams. His dominant, carelessly sexual manner had fueled her arousal so thoroughly that even now, she ached for his hands, his teeth, his cock. Marissa cursed and splashed cold water on her face again and again. After getting her bearings, she dressed in her running clothes. Her sports bra cupped and held her generous breasts in tightly, while the loose, airy running shorts barely covered her rounded, toned bottom. She pulled on a bright green, ribbed tank top, then tying her long, mocha brown hair up into a long tail, she headed down to the mudroom. She had been looking forward to doing her regular routine today, and damned if a sweaty, sexed up dream was going to stop her. The house felt oddly still. Too silent. She had a strange feeling, a nagging sense of foreboding. Shrugging off the sense of unease, she slipped on her socks and running shoes, then grabbed a cap and sunglasses and walked out, locking the door behind her. Marissa gave herself entirely to the physical activity. She reveled in the heat of the day, the light breeze in the trees. Birdsong surrounded her, lifting away the earlier sense of wrongness. Her body moved, stretched, strove for every meter, every step. For her, running was like flying. When she came to the intersection with Benji’s street, she could have rerouted. Instead, she strengthened her resolve and turned in, pounding up the punishing hill. Breath in rhythm with her feet, she kept her eyes down, focusing on the speckled black asphalt, until the hill eased off. Only then did she look up, her gaze darting over to the stately traditional house on the hill. She’d both dreaded and hoped to see him there, working in the yard, like he’d been doing during the beginning of the summer, before everything had changed. Benji wasn’t there, though. The house looked quiet. Off to the side, the spot where he’d been working the last time she’d seen him here was cleaned up. He’d clearly finished his project. Marissa felt relieved she didn’t have to face him, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t also disappointed. With a mental sigh, she moved on, pounding her feet and pumping her legs through the rest of her run. She finished in a sprint at the mouth of her driveway. Lungs burning, she slowly paced up the drive, her arms and hands moving to keep the blood from pooling in her fingers. The day had warmed up considerably, and a sticky humidity had joined the heat, which meant that in short order, without the soft breeze generated while she ran, Marissa was entirely drenched in sweat. Letting herself in the side door that led into the mudroom, she released a quiet sigh at the temperature difference. Her skin was almost instantly prickled as the sweat cooled and dried. She kicked her shoes into their cubby, then stripped off the soaked tank top, dropping it into the washing machine. Her socks joined it, then she padded into the kitchen in search of water. Pulling a bottle out of the fridge, she pressed it to the nape of her neck first, then cracked it open and took a long, gulping draft. She was in a post running daze, standing at the kitchen island with her second bottle of water while browsing news on her tablet. That’s probably why she didn’t hear him until she felt a hand cover her mouth tightly, while another pushed her forward, then down onto the island surface. Her water bottle went flying as Marissa screamed through the hand at her mouth; she tried to get free of the weight at her back and her hips, but she was tightly pinned. Adrenaline spiked through her blood and she fought harder, until her attacker spoke. “Good morning, Mrs. Weiss. I’ve been waiting for you.” He whispered it into her ear, his big, hard body pressing her into the island. She recognized his voice, then his scent: woodsy, spicy earth and man. It was Benji. Suddenly, she felt entirely overwhelmed with warring emotions. Confusion, fear, arousal, anger, relief. “Benji! Goddammit, let me up!” she mumbled into his hand, trying to push herself off the island again. He wouldn’t let up, though. This time, as she struggled helplessly, she felt Benji press himself to her behind. He was unmistakably hard inside his jeans. She could feel the bulging rough material on the backs of her thighs below her brief running shorts. Benji made a shushing sound. “You’ve Anadolu Yakası Escort been a very naughty slut, Mrs. Weiss.” Benji leaned over her, his lips to her ear, his hardness rubbing rhythmically at her core through layers of clothing that may as well not have been there. Marissa couldn’t believe how quickly her arousal grew. It was like flames licking greedily at dry tinder. She felt her pussy pulse and flood. At the same time, a cloying guilt choked her. She knew this was so wrong, but she wanted it, craved it. Benji chuckled darkly. “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth. You aren’t going to scream, are you?” Marissa shook her head as best she could, her dark eyes wide, trying to catch a glimpse of the man behind her. She felt more than saw the nod, then his hand was gone and she was dragging in huge gulps of air. Her relief was short lived. Benji gripped her wrists and brought them to her back, then tied them together. She cried out in alarm, then in surprise, as she felt a heavy hand smack her right ass cheek hard. It made her flinch with pain, but also brought a glowing heat to her arousal. She said, “What the hell are you doing? Benji, let me go!” It sounded like begging, so weak. Marissa struggled against the binding, but couldn’t get loose. “You’ve been avoiding me, Mrs. Weiss.” Benji’s hand lingered on her ass, stroking a circle as if soothing the sting. Then he spanked her again, the sound muffled by the running shorts. Marissa made a sound between a cry and a moan, her hips moving restlessly through the resulting sting. “You deserve every spank you get for making me wait. I’m thinking one spank for each day on each cheek, pants on and pants off. That’s eight spanks total per side.” He spanked her again on the right cheek, the sensation radiating to her aroused center. Marissa whimpered and said, “Wait, Benji, this isn’t right. We can’t–” He spanked her the fourth time on that side, and she moaned. “Shut up, Mrs. Weiss, or so help me God, I’ll double it,” growled Benji. Marissa was shocked into silence at his words, his tone. He sounded coldly determined, except she could feel how turned on he was. His bulging cock had been pressed to her left cheek as he spanked the other. Now, he switched sides and began spanking the left. Marissa gritted her teeth and grunted through the onslaught. Four glorious slaps later, she knew her thong was soaked. Her hands gripped each other at her back, and her hips rolled uncontrollably against Benji. “Mmmm, Mrs. Weiss. You dirty little whore. You like that, don’t you?” Benji chuckled, and Marissa gasped as he roughly pulled her gym shorts down, leaving them pooled at her feet. She reddened at the view he must have, then she moaned as she felt a finger trail from where her thong tucked between her ass cheeks to the top of her clit and back. Benji gripped her thighs suddenly and pressed himself to the sensitive juncture, grinding his bulge to her covered lips. Marissa moaned and thrashed on the island, her hips working to grind back against him. Shame rode her along with the desire, that she would turn into such a wanton, needy slut for this man. At the moment, however, the need in her throbbing pussy was screaming louder. Benji groaned and growled as he tortured her, then he pulled away and Marissa felt the first of eight stinging slaps to her ass. They came hard and quickly, a brutal onslaught on her flesh that left her gasping raggedly and mewling her need. When it was over, Benji wasted no time. He ripped her thong off, then Marissa heard his zipper and a rustle of cloth. Before she could even think of a denial, Benji had pulled her flesh apart and thrust himself into her to the very hilt. Both of them groaned loudly, Marissa feeling her channel truly filled for the first time that week. Her rational mind shut down as he began to pump into her, every thrust making her quivering muscles tighten more. She wasn’t far from coming. Benji’s breath came fast and angry as he fucked her, his fingers gripping her flesh so hard, she was afraid he’d leave bruises. His grunts and thrusts were pummeling her wildly, and his lack of control fueled her own arousal. “Oh, fuck, Mrs. Weiss! There’s that pussy, that slutty, tight pussy, yes! You’d better fucking come on this big thick cock, you gorgeous whore. I’m gonna fucking fill you up with my cum.” His words were lewd and filthy, but they only excited her more. Marissa felt the edge rushing towards her, and she moved with Benji, hurtling forward at breakneck speed until she flung herself over that glorious peak. She screamed his name, her muscles clenching his meat in spasms of pleasure. The rhythmic pulsing of her pussy continued through his orgasm, intensifying as he yelled and growled. She felt him flood into her, felt his cock kick and throb with release as he emptied his cum into her eager, thirsty cunt. He gave her one last, deep thrust, then with a grunt, pulled himself from her. Marissa felt suddenly empty, and she whined her displeasure. The slap to her ass made her pussy clench momentarily and she shivered. The next slap found her sensitive labia, and she cried out from the sting. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, Benji was dragging her upright, one hand wrapped in her long hair. “Don’t think this is over, slut. I’m only just getting started. We’ve got all day to make up for the week you deprived me.” Benji sounded darkly dominant, as he held her by the hair and stroked at her hairless mound. Marissa whimpered, trying to wrap her mind around what was happening and what was to come. Then, his hold gentled and his touch became a caress. His voice changed, too, suddenly a seductive whisper at her ear. “If you want me to stop, I will. All you have to do is tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to go. I’ll untie you and leave. Anadolu Yakası Escort Bayan It’ll all be over and it’ll never happen again.” Marissa stopped breathing for a moment. She could get out of it. Deep down, she knew he meant every word. Her conscience roared at her to stop this, to get away from him before anything else happened. She almost did, but then his fingers found her clit, and his lips and teeth teased her neck. Desire for the forbidden streaked through her. She couldn’t deny her need for what this man could give her, that heady, intoxicating, all consuming dominance that left her weak-kneed and dripping. Benji whispered, “What do you want, Mrs. Weiss?” His fingers were tugging at her clit piercing, sending little shocks of sensation through her. Marissa moaned as he dipped two fingers into her sopping wet channel that slowly dripped both their juices down her thighs. Already, she felt another orgasm building, and he was only teasing her. She needed him, consequences be damned. Taking a ragged breath, she said, “Benji, please.” He chuckled. “Please what, Mrs. Weiss? I want to hear you say it.” He began thrusting his fingers into her more firmly, and Marissa felt his cock begin to harden at her back. She wanted to see it, hold it, taste it. “Stay,” she moaned on a sigh, her fingers gripping at his shirt and the waist of his jeans. Benji whispered, “Say please again.” “Please.” Marissa’s reply stretched into a loud whimper as he tugged her hair and bit her throat. “Mmm, I love that word from you. I want to hear it over and over.” Taking his fingers from her snatch, Benji brought them to her lips. “Clean them up, slut.” Marissa did as she was told, the taste of their mixed fluids intensely arousing. She’d never done anything like this before, but she found herself licking and suckling his fingers like they were a miniature version of his cock. When he took them away, she tried to follow them, only to be tugged back by the hair. Benji pulled on Marissa’s hair and guided her into the breakfast nook, where he pushed her to her knees in front of a chair, then took a seat. Marissa drank him in with wide eyes, getting her first look at him since he’d been at the house last weekend. He was as gorgeous as she remembered, those green eyes speckled with gold flecks radiating power and dominance. Her eyes roamed over the soft gray of his shirt, tracing the clear lines of muscle beneath, then strayed farther down, to the persistent bulge in his jeans. Bound hands itching to possess him, she looked back up at his face and found him smiling darkly. He cupped her chin firmly and said, “Oh, Mrs. Weiss. Do you know I’ve dreamed of this? You kneeling between my legs, eager and willing to do what I want.” He cupped himself through his clothes, stroking and patting the firm, solid bulge. “You want to see my cock, don’t you? You want to taste it.” Marissa felt lightheaded, almost high or drunk, as she looked from his eyes to his crotch and back. She nodded and licked her lips. “Yes, please.” That made Benji throw his head back and laugh loudly. “God, I couldn’t have made you more perfect.” Marissa reddened and looked away. Her shame came back, along with a good dose of humiliation. She was kneeling between this man’s legs, begging for his cock! This was insane. She’d never done anything like this, never even wanted to. Patrick – oh God, Patrick – was loving and patient, a very giving lover. He never demanded. This was more than demanding, though. This was pure, male dominance, and Marissa was drawn like a moth to a flame. She knew it was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn’t say no. Her eyes flew back to Benji’s crotch when she heard his belt buckle. She watched with rapt attention as he pulled his belt loose, then undid the button and drew down the zipper. He wasn’t wearing boxers, and his cock bulged through. As Benji tugged his jeans down, Marissa got her first close up look at that gorgeous, thick shaft. Her eyes widened and her mouth watered. She couldn’t believe that he’d been fucking her with that, filling her up with all that cock meat. A sharp tug on her hair broke through her thrall, and she realized she’d leaned in and almost kissed it. “You can’t wait to have it, can you?” Benji palmed his cock, slowly stroking himself, and Marissa watched a bit of liquid gather at the tip. She shuddered out a breath and whined. “You need to ask first, Mrs. Weiss.” Marissa barely hesitated. “I want to suck your cock, Benji. Please.” She tugged and twisted at her restrained hands, feeling the slight ache in her shoulders at being tied up. She wanted to touch him so badly. It was like delirium. She babbled breathlessly, “You’re so big, so beautiful. I want to taste and touch. Please, let me.” She licked her lips and looked up at him, any embarrassment or humiliation forgotten. “Please.” Benji growled, then released her hair. Marissa didn’t wait. She made a little mewling sound, then leaned in and rubbed her cheek on his shaft. He smelled musky and male, and she inhaled, drunk on his scent. Stroking her face up his length, she ran her lips over the wet tip, smearing his precum on her lips before stroking her other cheek down the other side of his cock. It throbbed and kicked, as if encouraging her. With open lips, she stroked back up to the tip, then with heavy-lidded eyes trained at Benji, she took that big head into her mouth. She heard him groan, and it filled her with power and arousal. Her pussy felt hot and swollen, pulsing with pleasure as she slowly bobbed onto his cock. He was so big. It was a challenge to work him into her mouth. She felt his hips shift restlessly, and his grip tightened on her hair. Would he fuck her face? The thought made her folds flood; she ached to touch herself. Spreading her legs as wide as they would go, Escort Anadolu Yakası she worked over his thick shaft, until finally his head touched the top of her throat. Benji’s breath whooshed out, and he gasped. “Fuck, Mrs. Weiss! You dirty, cock sucking slut. I knew you’d be good! Just like that, you gorgeous whore.” He grunted, and his hands came to grip her head firmly. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna fuck that tight throat. Open up.” Marissa’s eyes widened as she felt him thrust, her throat rebelling in a fit of gurgles. It didn’t stop Benji, though. He only grinned ruthlessly and changed the angle slightly. Her eyes began to tear up as he pressed his cock deeper into her. She gagged and sputtered, the thick head sliding further. He grunted and cursed, calling her the filthiest names as he pistoned himself into her throat. Marissa could feel her lungs begin to burn for air, and the sensation fueled her already aching need. Her hips bucked and gyrated, seeking some kind of friction on her cunt. It was the sweetest torture. When Benji pulled out of her mouth, Marissa coughed and took great lung fulls of air. Spit ran down her chin to her chest, soaking into the sports bra she still wore. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up at Benji, a million sensations cavorting in her mind. She felt gloriously used, and somehow that equaled a kind of fulfillment. What the fuck was he doing to her? Benji groaned and grunted, his hand fisted around his thick shaft, stroking just inches from her face. “Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to come all over that pretty, slutty face right now. I want you dripping with my spunk, Mrs. Weiss.” His motions quickened, and Marissa thought he just might do it. He gasped and moaned, one hand gripped painfully tight around her hair, tugging her head back so her mouth hung open. Then he seemed to get a hold of himself, slowing his strokes and smearing his dripping tip to her lips. Marissa moaned needfully, her tongue licking at the sticky, salty nectar. Benji pulled away from her abruptly, tucked himself back into his pants, then gripped her arms and hauled her up to her feet. Leaning in, he nipped at her ear and said, “I think we need to take this somewhere more comfortable.” Then he once again fisted her pony tail and led her out of the room ahead of him towards the stairs. Marissa’s steps were jerky and clumsy as she walked. She was very aware of being directed through her house like so much chattel. Benji never asked which way to go, and it wasn’t a small house. He just knew, and that made Marissa nervous. “How do you know where… where our bedroom is?” Our bedroom. Fuck, Patrick. The shame washed over her again. Ugly guilt nestled in the pit of her stomach. She had to stop this, no matter how good it felt. Patrick would never forgive her. Benji brought her to the foot of the bed, then his hands snaked over her flanks to her flat belly. He stroked down, fingers lightly clawing at her skin, until he cupped her hips. Pulling her back, he slowly ground his throbbing bulge between her ass cheeks. It felt so good, yet so wrong. He licked at her neck, then said, “Patrick gave me a key before he left, and since you haven’t been around, I’ve made use of it. I know every corner of this house.” Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, “Including where you keep your toys, you filthy little sex pot.” The flush that colored her face spread down to her chest, and Marissa felt faint. He’d explored her house? He knew where her toys were? With growing trepidation, she watched Benji go to her night table, then open the large lower drawer. He pulled out a shiny, candy apple red vinyl box. The zippered top was usually latched with a small lock, but since she’d been in it every night this week, she’d left it unlocked. Benji turned to her and smiled wickedly as he unzipped the top and pulled it open. He whistled as he took in the contents. “Wow, Mrs. Weiss. You are one kinky bitch.” As he spoke, he pulled out item after item and laid them on the bedside table. There were several butt plugs of varying sizes, a bottle of lube, two plastic dildos, a rabbit vibrator, a glass dildo, several sets of nipple clamps, and a bullet vibrator. Marissa looked away, her embarrassment complete. Benji picked up the bigger of the two dildos and tested its weight. He slapped it firmly to his hand, and the sound it made went straight to Marissa’s pulsing pussy. “Have you been fucking yourself with this, thinking of my cock, Mrs. Weiss?” Benji chuckled and looked her in the eye. “You know I’m bigger, right?” Marissa shuddered and bit her lip. She was so humiliated, and yet, Benji touching her sex toys made her incredibly horny. Her imagination ran wild with increasingly depraved scenarios of how he would use them on her. A sound brought her back to reality, and she noticed that Benji had put away everything except the bigger of the dildos, the next to largest butt plug and the lube. Marissa felt the room grow smaller, her full attention on the toys. He meant to use them, and she was almost unbearably excited for him to do so. Benji brought the toys to the foot of the bed, then he once again stood behind her. She heard cloth rustling, then a jingling sound. “I brought you a present, you know. I saw these and immediately thought of you.” She felt metal on her back and over her right shoulder, and turning her head, she gasped. It was a pair of clip-on nipple clamps, attached by a chain and dangling from his fingers. Adorned with whimsical, bright green four leaf clovers, they made her want to laugh and moan. Her nipples, still held firmly in her sports bra, tingled and tightened at the thought of being made to wear those. “Of course, you need to lose that bra first.” She heard him go into the master bathroom and rummage around, then return. Turning her to face him, Marissa saw he held a pair of shears she kept in her bathroom cabinet for cutting off clothing tabs and other miscellaneous tasks. Benji snipped them once in the air loudly and said, “I hope you’re not attached to it.” Marissa shivered and swallowed as he trailed the pointed end up her arm to her shoulder, then carefully snipped the shoulder strap clean through.

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