Consequences Ch. 06

"Fuck your pussy, fuck yourself like you mean it."

"Ohhh. Ohhh God yesss," she moaned.

Again she faintly heard an air horn, but it still did not register. She was too engrossed in the pleasures washing over her, too lost in the pending explosion inside her.

She gripped the dildo firmer so that she could slam it in and out of her. She worked it with the raging vengeance of her overpowering lust. Her ass was nearly hopping off the seat. Wet fucking sounds were coming from between her legs. Her orgasm crested over the edge. At first it merely cascaded down, swooping forward on a fairly gentle path. But as it moved it gathered speed, and with it force. Within seconds it turned into a massive tsunami of ecstasy. It slammed through her body, causing her to jump and jerk in the seat, her nerves wracked by thousands of pleasure messages. It blasted her mind with electrical sparks that quickly flashed into exploding fireworks.

"Ohhh God," she cried out.

She crammed the dildo into her pussy as deep as it would go and rubbed at her clit. Her hips flailed about madly, her ass jerking around in the seat. Her legs quivered and twitched, wanting to simultaneously be spread wide and clamped shut. Her entire body tensed, her muscles clenching. Her back arched. She threw her head back, her mouth hanging open. Beneath the blindfold her eyes were clamped tightly shut.

"Ohhh God yes. Yes. Ohhh God yes," she cried again and again.

The orgasm continued with tidal force. Frank reached over and tweaked her nipple. The sensation threw new fuel onto her exploding fires, making her cry out more and her body to twitch with her exploding nerve endings. Her head snapped to the side, rolling her body toward him, wanting more. Her hips jumped, her foot smacked against the windshield. Her hand shifted the dildo, rolled it around inside her.

"Yes. Yes. Ohhh God yesss."

Again and again explosions rocked her body, making her muscles clench and relax, her head snap or roll. She panted. She gasped for breath. She exhaled sharply.

"Ohhh God. Ohhh God."

Eventually it began to subside. The orgasmic waves slowly settled down, receding back into the darkness of nonexistence. Her ass lowered itself back into the seat and she loosened her grip on the dildo. She sighed with pleasure as the aftershocks wavered through her body.

Slowly her mind drifted back as well, taking in the sounds of the surrounding world. Now she noticed the air horn. It worried her. Pulling the dildo from her sex she hesitantly reached up and lifted the blindfold. Light came streaming in under it, shocking her eyes. With a huff she jerked the item off, blinking rapidly as her eyes struggled to adjust to the car's interior light. She had been worried about drivers peering through the dark to see her perform, but they had not had to. Frank had cast her in light, giving them a clear view of her. At what point he had done this, she did not know, but she imagined it had been fairly early, probably while she had been playing with her tits.

There were a couple semis running with them and from the sound of their air horns they had enjoyed her show. Julie's face flushed. She felt a mixture of emotions course through her, surprised to realize that one of them was pride. But shame was another, and it was stronger. As she sat up and began to fix her cloths she turned away from the windows, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor. In the driver's seat Frank casually reached up and killed the interior light, a smirk on his lips.

An exit ramp appeared and he took it, leaving behind a symphony of appreciative air horns. He crossed over and got back on the highway, now heading back to the city. In the dark Julie stared at him. He seemed unconcerned, his eyes on the road, not paying any attention to her. He was not ignoring her, he was simply leaving her alone so she could work through her feelings.

Her angry feelings that were making her think of the nasty names to call him, the curses to spit at him, and the demands for an apology to slap him with. The thought of demanding a divorce even flashed briefly through her mind. But she knew she would not do any of these things. She knew it even as she thought them. She would not do them because she loved him, and because she was afraid. And because she had convinced herself that either she deserved his treatment of her, or he deserved to have his concessions.

So she forgot her anger and turned her thoughts to other things, to how she was enjoying the night's exhibitionism. She did not understand it, but she was. And while this concerned her, it did not stop her from admitting it, not to herself at least.

She spent the remainder of the ride thinking over the night, reliving much of the excitement in her mind, and feeling it keep her embers from dying out.

Once home Frank led her to their bedroom where she expected him to prepare for bed but where he instead stopped her from getting undressed. As he then stood a foot away from her, she saw the hunger in his eyes and she knew the night was not yet over.

Slowly he raised his hand to her breast, caressing it through her blouse. The warmth of his touch reached through the material to reawaken the electric sparks of her nerves. He slid his hand so his palm covered her nipple, then gently massaged the mound. His other hand came up to brush her hair back and cup her cheek. His thumb reached out to caress her lips, slipping gently back and forth over them, igniting the sensitive nerve endings. Reflexively she slipped her lips around it and suckled.

"What did I do?" He whispered.

"Frank?" Her tone was meek, her breathing already shallow.

Her nipples grew stiff, poking hard against her blouse. Her embers that had been kept smoldering by her thoughts were now fanning into flames again, her body yearning.

"Tell me what I did," he smirked. "Tell me what I made you do tonight."

While she struggled to understand, she glanced down and watched her tit being massaged under the blouse. Past this she saw a bulge at his crotch, his semi-hard cock pressing at his pants once again. His caressing thumb was stroking the same nerves as when she had slid her lips down over his cock and taken it into her mouth earlier. The memory of this made her legs quiver weakly, her lust being stirred and stoked.

"Tell me," he pressed.

She was not sure what he meant. Even if she had she was finding it difficult to concentrate, and therefore do as he wanted. She felt his hand plying her tit, felt the bolts of electricity it was sending through her. Her body leaned forward, pushing herself firmer into his grasp. Her nipple burned under his attentions, her breast filled with aching pleasure.

"You..." she tried, but faltered, at a loss for the answer.

"I made you dress in this skimpy outfit and show off your body," he coached her.

Her heart leapt in her chest. Now she understood what he wanted. It was now her turn to be the evening's narrator. He was going to make her confess all her dirty acts from the night, the acts he had made her perform. She found the idea arousing, but also frightening. She feared he would learn her secret, that he would see how much she had enjoyed everything.

"Is that what I did?" He pressed after a minute.

"Ye-Yes," she nodded, her fear keeping her from lifting her eyes to meet his.

"And how did that make you feel?"

"Li-Like a . . . Like a slut," she tentatively whispered.

"That's good," his tone showed that he meant both her answer and the fact that she was starting to talk. "How did it make you feel? Being paraded around like that? Being made to feel like a slut? Did it feel good?"

She hesitated, his questions confirming her fear. He did want more than just a recap of the night's activities. He also wanted her to share how those activities had affected her. How they had made her lust roar, her body scream.

"How did it feel?" He pushed.

She wanted to deny it, to deny everything. She wanted to deny how wet she had become, how badly her pussy had ached to be fucked. She did not care that he already knew, that he had seen it. That he had witnessed her lewd reactions. She just did not want to admit the extent of her arousal. But she knew she could not lie. She knew that he would easily spot her deceit and would not be happy.

"Did it feel good?" His tone indicated his growing impatience.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured.

As she conceded to the situation, and the idea of confessing, she was surprised by the effect it had on her body. Her fires grew, heating her flesh. Her juices began to flow, wetting her pussy. Adding fuel to these feelings was Frank's hand kneading her breast, his palm flattening her nipple. Also the sight of his growing bulge was filling her with the impulse to reach out and touch it.

"Tell me about the restaurant," he urged.

"There were men there . . . lots of men," she whispered, her mind searching for the words he wanted to hear.

"Did they look at you?"

"Yes," she paused, her skin quivering as she remembered the hungry leers.

"They did?

"Yes. They looked at me. They stared at me . . . at my body . . . my tits."

"Did you like them staring at you?

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"What did you see in their eyes when they were looking at you?"

"Lust. They had lust in their eyes." Although her tone stayed docile, her voice was steadying. Still, she could not help stumbling with her next few words. "Some of them saw my . . . my pu-pu . . . my pussy. Yo-You made me keep my legs open and I saw them. I saw them looking up my skirt."

The last sentence came out strong because she was growing comfortable with her task. Plus, she found that she was starting to use words she wanted to use. But even with these progressions she still could not look him in the face, and so her eyes remained downcast.

"I-I liked it," she continued without any prompting. "I liked them staring at me. I liked the lust in their eyes and I liked them seeing my pussy. I liked showing them my pussy."

Frank softly chuckled as he pulled his hand away from her breast.

"Get on your knees," he ordered.

The deviation confused her momentarily, but she quickly did as told. As she knelt down before him he undid his pants and pushed them down his legs. They had been standing by the foot of the bed and he now turned to sit on its edge where he finished pulling them off and tossing them aside. Removing his shirt he tossed it away as well.

"Come here," he indicated the carpeting between his feet.

She wiggled around on her knees to the indicated spot, her actions causing her skirt to ride up on her thighs. For the second time that night his hardening cock lay before her. The sight of it sent shivers through her, enhancing her arousal. She spread her legs open a little, allowing the air to swirl across her wettening slit. She still could not look at him and so she knelt there with her face down, staring at his cock through the tops of her eyes. She watched it throb and jump in his lap as blood pumped to it, the shape of it growing firmer, harder. Hesitantly she raised her hands, laying one on his thigh and reaching out with the other for the thing her eyes were locked on.

"Go ahead. Wrap your fingers around my cock," he chuckled above her. "Wrap them around it and stroke it."

Julie's fingers instinctively tightened around it as she took hold, squeezing it gently. She sighed, hot sparks shooting along her nerves. Her tongue caressed her lips, showing the hunger this awoke.

"What then?" He asked.

"Huh?" She muttered, her mind enthralled by the cock in her grasp and forgetting everything else.

"The restaurant. The men staring at you. Looking up your skirt."

His words brought her mind racing back to the moment. They reminded her of the men's eyes on her, the way they had peeked up her skirt at her exposed sex. She felt her body tingle at the memory, felt her heated blood coursing through her veins.

"You kept my legs open," she repeated. "Made me let them look. Made me show them my pussy."

"And then," he pressed.

She was pulling on his cock, gently tugging it. Within her grasp it had gained rigidity, the flesh tightening. Her eyes were riveted on it, watching her hand milk its base, her fingers squeezing. Again her tongue slithered across her lips.

"We went to a movie," she whispered. "You took me to a theatre where they show porn and you made me suck your cock. You made me get up in the chair and lean over to suck your cock. And I did. I sucked your cock. I fucked you with my mouth."

"That's right," he agreed happily. "And did you like that."

"You know I like sucking your cock, Frank," she panted.

"Yes, you do like sucking cocks," he chuckled.

She was still not raising her eyes to him, but she guessed that if she had at that moment she would have been met by an accusatory glare, a lingering reminder of the other night's indiscretion. Still, she could not deny his claim; sucking cock did make her wet. And at that moment the memory of how it had felt in the theatre was making her want to slip her lips around him again.

"Yes," she sighed heavily instead.

"Did it make your pussy wet?"

"Yes. It made my pussy wet. It made my pussy get all wet, Frank."

"So what did you do about that? In the theatre?"

"I let you play with my pussy," she confessed. "I spread my legs so you could play with my pussy while I sucked your cock. And that guy saw me. He saw me, Frank. He saw me push my pussy at your fingers. You pulled my skirt up and he saw my wet pussy and my bare ass. Oh my dirty little pussy. It wanted touched. It wanted touched so bad. And he saw me."

The memory of the events in the cinema came flooding back to her, raising her lust higher. Her breathing was shallow, short pants past open lips. Stroking his cock and telling the story had her fires raging, her hunger building. She felt her pussy aching and knew it was getting wetter and wetter. She wanted his cock, wanted to suck it, wanted to feel it slipping along her lips, filling her mouth. Her tongue ran across her lips, caressing the nerves endings and adding more fuel to the fires.

"I sucked your cock. I fucked you with my mouth. With my slut mouth. I fucked your hard cock with my mouth and I let that guy watch me shove my pussy at your fingers. It felt so good. The feel of it, knowing he was back there watching. Knowing he could see my pussy. My slutty pussy, all wet from having your cock in my mouth."

Now she was stroking his cock, pumping it up and down with her hand. The head shined as precum oozed from the slit. Through the tops of her eyes she saw this and she hungrily licked her lips. Her body ached. Her breasts wanted to be touched and, leaning in, she pressed one against his leg, rubbing at her swollen nipple through her blouse.

"Don't stop. Tell me more, slut," he groaned, his voice showing his own excitement.

"I knew he was watching. I knew it and I liked it. It excited me more. It made me wetter thinking about him back there, watching my ass move around. Watching me shove my pussy at your fingers."

She knelt there, her hair draped across his thigh, her tits straining against her blouse, her cleavage raising and falling with her panting. Shifting on her knees she pressed the one breast against his shin, rubbing it back and forth. Electrical sparks radiated out away from her sensitized nipple. Her skirt had worked its way completely up her thighs now, her exposed ass shimmied as she wiggled about. Her sex glistened with the wetness of her new juices, her swollen labia snuggled between the puffy sides.

"Then we went for a ride. And you made me play with myself in the car." She was not sure if he was ready for her to move on, but she was. The memory of the car ride was calling to her, drawing her to it. "I played with my titties. I massaged them and made them feel so good, made my whole body ache so much."

Her body's growing hunger made her forget her previous concern about sharing too much, about him discovering her secret. She was now wholly immersed in the narration, lost in the passion of it.

"And my pussy got so wet, so horny. Riding in the car, playing with my tits, my pussy got so hot and wet, Frank. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to play with my pussy. So I did, I played with my pussy. And you let them see me. You let those men see me playing with my pussy."

Kneeling there, stroking his cock, she imagined what the drivers had seen. She imagined them looking down and seeing her laying back in the car seat, manipulating her tits. She pictured herself fingering her pussy, and using the dildo. She pictured herself in the seat, her legs spread, shoving the toy into her dripping sex. She imagined those drivers watching her do those things. And it made her pussy hunger for attention.

"They saw me Frank. They saw me with my fingers buried in my pussy. My slutty little pussy."

Her grip on his cock tightened, pulling and tugging at his skin as she pumped it and milked it. The head shined. His precum lubed her stroking fingers. Again and again she licked her lips, hungry to taste the substance. Hungry to taste him.

"What'd you do with the dildo?" He asked, "What'd my little slut do with the toy I brought for her?"

"I fucked my pussy with it. I fucked my horny little pussy with the dildo. I fucked my pussy and I came all over it. And you let them watch me. Oh God Frank, you let them watch your slut wife fuck her own pussy."

She panted, her breath heavy as it slipped past her open lips. Her body rocked on her knees as she jerked his cock, pressing her tit against his leg, pressing her nipple harder against him.

"You want to fuck your pussy again? You want to shove this fake cock back inside you and show me what a horny little slut you are?"

His questions surprised her and she reflexively looked up. In his hand he held the toy, teasingly waving it before her. The sight of it made her pussy quiver, made her body tingle. She exhaled, an audible gasp of air.

"Lay back," he told her. "Lay back on the floor and show me how wet your pussy is now. How wet you've gotten stroking my cock and telling me about tonight."

Her body raged with anticipation at having the toy filling her again. She did not want to let go of his cock, nor did she want to pull her tit away from the pressure of his leg, but she did want the dildo. She wanted it in her sex. So, with a whimper, she released his cock and dropped back away from his leg. She maneuvered around to do as he said, laying back on the carpeting, spreading her legs. Her skirt was bunched at her waist and her sex glistened with her newest juices, her labia swollen and puffy.

Frank moved off the bed to kneel at her side. His cock stuck out, pointing across where her blouse strained over her tits, her swollen nipples clearly defined. Her hair was splayed out in a halo and she looked up at him with lust filled eyes.

"Keep talking. Keep telling me about tonight. About the car and those men. Keep telling me, while you show me."

He handed her the dildo and watched her shift around to guide it to her pussy. With one hand pressing the tip against her opening she reached up with her other to take his cock again. Her fingers tightened around him, tugging hungrily. The feel of it in her grasp and the dildo pressing at her made her moan heatedly.

"They watched me do this," she whimpered, pulling at his cock and pushing the dildo into her sex. "They watched me fuck myself. I was fucking my pussy, Frank. Fucking my pussy with the dildo and they watched me. You let them, Frank. Oh Honey, you let them watch your slut wife fuck herself."

As she tugged on his real cock she pushed the fake one inside her, shoving it in fully and moving it around, pressing at all the hungry nerves wanting touched. So aroused was she that she immediately felt an orgasm being drawn forward, reaching the edge, and preparing to crash through her. Her body quivered with more anticipation.