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Sometimes you find lust when you least expect it.

Like on garage-cleaning day. I didn’t see things from that perspective when I woke up and my husband reminded me of what he’d planned for our afternoon.

Let me be totally honest here. I was not in a positive mental place as I put on my faded jeans and rattiest T-shirt. The thought of our garage, overflowing with junk, was enough to make me want to hide under the blankets for days.

But Rob had decided we were going to tackle the terror. The idea was to get rid of anything and everything we were no longer using. We’d bring items to the thrift store or even have a yard sale. Rob assured me it would be fun.

I questioned his idea of a good time.

“Seriously,” I said unable to keep negativity from coloring my voice. “Define fun.”

“You never know what you’ll find,” he responded, sounding way too chipper.

Organizing and categorizing was exactly the type of thing that turned him on. I could see the glee in his attitude, even from the rear — that taut, handsome rear of his.

Lost beneath my own gloomy cloud, I was a little slow to realize what he’d done as we entered the garage. It took Rob clearing his throat twice for me to actually look around the place and register the transformation. Not only had he already cleaned and organized, he’d rebuilt the old wrought-iron bed frame we’d inherited with the house and set it up with a mattress and fresh sheets. There were fairy lights strung around the ceiling beams, creating a magical glow.

He’d used all sorts of odds and ends we’d stored in the garage to create a kooky sex room. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling. A pink plastic flamingo bought for our last backyard luau stood nearby with a makeshift tennis ball gag taped to its beak. I was speechless at first, staring in wide-eyed wonder. Then I approached the bed and my eyes really bugged out. 

Attached to the head-and footboards were bungee cords and scarves.

“You said this was going to be the most boring weekend of your life,” he said, and I nodded. “So I thought I’d surprise you and spice things up a bit.”

The bungee cords were attached to the bedframe for my ankles. I fingered one of the antique scarves he’d tied to the headboard. Excitement flared inside me as I thought about them wrapped around my wrists.

He motioned toward the bed with his chin, and I scampered on top of the mattress.

In seconds, my wrists were trussed up and Rob was kissing me. I was still fully dressed. I hadn’t even bothered to strip in my haste. Rob didn’t seem bothered by that fact. First, he kissed my lips, then my neck. Then he began to work his way down my body, sucking my braless nipples through my threadbare T-shirt until I was arching and begging.

“Do you really care about this old, grungy shirt?” he asked casually.

I looked down. I’d chosen the ancient tee because I didn’t mind if it got wrecked while we wrestled with filth. He seemed pleased to learn I wasn’t at all attached to it.

He landed a slow, passionate kiss on my lips that I felt deep inside my core. Then he gripped the hem off the shirt in both hands, shredding it all the way up to the neckline. The worn fabric gave up the ghost instantly in Rob strong hands. I was half-revealed, an oyster in a shell, with only mules on my feet and jeans on my lower half.

Gently, he removed my shoes. Then he considered my jeans and eyed a pair of shears within reach.

“No!” I howled.

The shirt I hadn’t cared a lick about. The jeans might have been old, but they were loved. Besides, my ankles weren’t tied up. There was no need to be so dramatic!

He winked at me and asked, “What will you give me for the jeans?”

I had no idea what he wanted.

But his desire was revealed quickly enough. He wanted my mouth.

I parted my lips in instant obedience. He straddled my head and dropped his dick into my mouth. The garage seemed scented by the fragrance of the jasmine from outside mixed with the aroma of sex.

He wanted more than my lips around his cock, though. He wanted me to tongue his balls. I was good with that. He pulled his shaft from my lips and tea-bagged me while I gave him the best tongue-bath ever. I even sucked his sac into my mouth. When he rocked forward slightly, he pulled himself from my lips with a satisfying pop.

Ravenous for him, I even tongued the space between his asshole and his nuts. He made a humming sound under his breath. I would have fingered his backdoor if my hands had been free. But he decided I didn’t need hands. He turned himself around and parted his cheeks before descending on my face once more. Instead of tickling his hole with my fingertip, I used my tongue.

His humming became a groan, then a moan. Then he became unhinged. He yanked my jeans down before binding my ankles so my body made an “X” on the bed. I was delighted when he repaid the favor by pleasuring me with his tongue. He licked my honeypot until I was on the very verge of a shattering orgasm. Then he stuck a finger in my pussy and his thumb in my ass. I was totally plugged and deliriously crying out his name. It felt so damn good.

He rocked his two digits in and out of my clutching holes until a fierce orgasm broke over me. I was breathless and shaking, but Rob wasn’t done with me yet. He mounted me missionary-style. Then I felt his cockhead parting my slicked-up pussy lips. He slammed into me so hard the bed shook. But then he pulled out of me slowly before aggressively thrusting in again. I was decimated by the power, left weak by the beautiful friction. He found a pace that worked for both of us, a rapid, heart-racing pace that made me feel as if he was fucking right through me to hit the mattress.

“He licked my honeypot until I was on the verge of a shattering orgasm.”

“Oh, yes, Rob!” I cried out as he used a hand to pinch my nipples, to tug and pull. “Oh, yes, Rob!” I repeated as he then brought that hand between us to rub my clit.

But he soon abandoned all of those teasing games. He was chasing his own climax and had totally lost his patience. The rapid beat of his cock working me to the hilt sent me to a higher plane. Bound as I was to the bed, I had no choice but to lay there and let his dick pummel me. Not that I was complaining. It was everything I wanted and more, being helpless as he fucked me into oblivion.

I didn’t exactly see stars, but the colors of the lights twinkling overhead definitely blurred in my vision. He pounded me at a feverish pace, fucking me forcefully as our pleasure spiraled higher. He managed to beautifully and blissfully keep me teetering on the edge for a maddeningly long time before my second orgasm exploded like a firecracker. My climax was so ferocious it nearly frightened me. My body thrashed so intensely I shook the bed with my motions. Sure, I was bound to the bedframe, but that didn’t stop me from undulating wildly, as much as my bonds would allow.

Rob groaned like an animal and came a few seconds after I did, jamming his dick deep into my cunt. He pressed his body to mine so closely you couldn’t have wiggled a sheet of paper between us, and then he filled me up with his cream. I felt renewed by his essence, refueled by the jets of his jizz.

He had transformed me into a true believer. I’d never balk at cleaning again. Actually, that’s a joke! But if “cleaning” meant “coming,” then I’d be down for the deed — as many times as he wanted to do it.

" />

Coming Clean

  • 1

Trama

Sometimes you find lust when you least expect it.

Like on garage-cleaning day. I didn’t see things from that perspective when I woke up and my husband reminded me of what he’d planned for our afternoon.

Let me be totally honest here. I was not in a positive mental place as I put on my faded jeans and rattiest T-shirt. The thought of our garage, overflowing with junk, was enough to make me want to hide under the blankets for days.

But Rob had decided we were going to tackle the terror. The idea was to get rid of anything and everything we were no longer using. We’d bring items to the thrift store or even have a yard sale. Rob assured me it would be fun.

I questioned his idea of a good time.

“Seriously,” I said unable to keep negativity from coloring my voice. “Define fun.”

“You never know what you’ll find,” he responded, sounding way too chipper.

Organizing and categorizing was exactly the type of thing that turned him on. I could see the glee in his attitude, even from the rear — that taut, handsome rear of his.

Lost beneath my own gloomy cloud, I was a little slow to realize what he’d done as we entered the garage. It took Rob clearing his throat twice for me to actually look around the place and register the transformation. Not only had he already cleaned and organized, he’d rebuilt the old wrought-iron bed frame we’d inherited with the house and set it up with a mattress and fresh sheets. There were fairy lights strung around the ceiling beams, creating a magical glow.

He’d used all sorts of odds and ends we’d stored in the garage to create a kooky sex room. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling. A pink plastic flamingo bought for our last backyard luau stood nearby with a makeshift tennis ball gag taped to its beak. I was speechless at first, staring in wide-eyed wonder. Then I approached the bed and my eyes really bugged out. 

Attached to the head-and footboards were bungee cords and scarves.

“You said this was going to be the most boring weekend of your life,” he said, and I nodded. “So I thought I’d surprise you and spice things up a bit.”

The bungee cords were attached to the bedframe for my ankles. I fingered one of the antique scarves he’d tied to the headboard. Excitement flared inside me as I thought about them wrapped around my wrists.

He motioned toward the bed with his chin, and I scampered on top of the mattress.

In seconds, my wrists were trussed up and Rob was kissing me. I was still fully dressed. I hadn’t even bothered to strip in my haste. Rob didn’t seem bothered by that fact. First, he kissed my lips, then my neck. Then he began to work his way down my body, sucking my braless nipples through my threadbare T-shirt until I was arching and begging.

“Do you really care about this old, grungy shirt?” he asked casually.

I looked down. I’d chosen the ancient tee because I didn’t mind if it got wrecked while we wrestled with filth. He seemed pleased to learn I wasn’t at all attached to it.

He landed a slow, passionate kiss on my lips that I felt deep inside my core. Then he gripped the hem off the shirt in both hands, shredding it all the way up to the neckline. The worn fabric gave up the ghost instantly in Rob strong hands. I was half-revealed, an oyster in a shell, with only mules on my feet and jeans on my lower half.

Gently, he removed my shoes. Then he considered my jeans and eyed a pair of shears within reach.

“No!” I howled.

The shirt I hadn’t cared a lick about. The jeans might have been old, but they were loved. Besides, my ankles weren’t tied up. There was no need to be so dramatic!

He winked at me and asked, “What will you give me for the jeans?”

I had no idea what he wanted.

But his desire was revealed quickly enough. He wanted my mouth.

I parted my lips in instant obedience. He straddled my head and dropped his dick into my mouth. The garage seemed scented by the fragrance of the jasmine from outside mixed with the aroma of sex.

He wanted more than my lips around his cock, though. He wanted me to tongue his balls. I was good with that. He pulled his shaft from my lips and tea-bagged me while I gave him the best tongue-bath ever. I even sucked his sac into my mouth. When he rocked forward slightly, he pulled himself from my lips with a satisfying pop.

Ravenous for him, I even tongued the space between his asshole and his nuts. He made a humming sound under his breath. I would have fingered his backdoor if my hands had been free. But he decided I didn’t need hands. He turned himself around and parted his cheeks before descending on my face once more. Instead of tickling his hole with my fingertip, I used my tongue.

His humming became a groan, then a moan. Then he became unhinged. He yanked my jeans down before binding my ankles so my body made an “X” on the bed. I was delighted when he repaid the favor by pleasuring me with his tongue. He licked my honeypot until I was on the very verge of a shattering orgasm. Then he stuck a finger in my pussy and his thumb in my ass. I was totally plugged and deliriously crying out his name. It felt so damn good.

He rocked his two digits in and out of my clutching holes until a fierce orgasm broke over me. I was breathless and shaking, but Rob wasn’t done with me yet. He mounted me missionary-style. Then I felt his cockhead parting my slicked-up pussy lips. He slammed into me so hard the bed shook. But then he pulled out of me slowly before aggressively thrusting in again. I was decimated by the power, left weak by the beautiful friction. He found a pace that worked for both of us, a rapid, heart-racing pace that made me feel as if he was fucking right through me to hit the mattress.

“He licked my honeypot until I was on the verge of a shattering orgasm.”

“Oh, yes, Rob!” I cried out as he used a hand to pinch my nipples, to tug and pull. “Oh, yes, Rob!” I repeated as he then brought that hand between us to rub my clit.

But he soon abandoned all of those teasing games. He was chasing his own climax and had totally lost his patience. The rapid beat of his cock working me to the hilt sent me to a higher plane. Bound as I was to the bed, I had no choice but to lay there and let his dick pummel me. Not that I was complaining. It was everything I wanted and more, being helpless as he fucked me into oblivion.

I didn’t exactly see stars, but the colors of the lights twinkling overhead definitely blurred in my vision. He pounded me at a feverish pace, fucking me forcefully as our pleasure spiraled higher. He managed to beautifully and blissfully keep me teetering on the edge for a maddeningly long time before my second orgasm exploded like a firecracker. My climax was so ferocious it nearly frightened me. My body thrashed so intensely I shook the bed with my motions. Sure, I was bound to the bedframe, but that didn’t stop me from undulating wildly, as much as my bonds would allow.

Rob groaned like an animal and came a few seconds after I did, jamming his dick deep into my cunt. He pressed his body to mine so closely you couldn’t have wiggled a sheet of paper between us, and then he filled me up with his cream. I felt renewed by his essence, refueled by the jets of his jizz.

He had transformed me into a true believer. I’d never balk at cleaning again. Actually, that’s a joke! But if “cleaning” meant “coming,” then I’d be down for the deed — as many times as he wanted to do it.

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