A Binding Agreement

When I first met my girlfriend’s parents, I thought they were an unlikely couple. Dayna’s dad is 63 years old and her mom, Evette, is 42. Her dad looked old, too, but her mom had the body of someone half her age. Her tits are probably 36Cs and she has a really small waist and an ass that’s perfect for fucking. The only problem is that she’s as cold as ice and has hardly any personality at all.

Unfortunately, when Dayna and I decided to move in together, we ended up living next to her parents. Determined to be a good neighbor, and possible son in law, I offered to do odd jobs for them around their house.

One day while Brian, Dayna’s dad, was at work and my girl and her mother were shopping, I was helping around the house, painting the master bedroom for them. While covering the furniture with plastic, I found a shoebox behind the dresser. When I looked inside it, I damn near fainted.
It was filled with pictures of Evette in sexy, revealing and X rated poses. Some pictures were of her in bondage situations, and one even had her tied down spread eagle on a four poster bed as several men grabbed, fondled and fucked her. Other pictures showed her sucking the guys off and getting it up the ass and in the cunt at the same time. There were even some pictures of the strangers fucking her with various sex toys.

I got hard as hell looking at the pictures and got a wicked idea, so I slipped a few of the pictures in my pocket before getting to work.

The next day, after Brian went to work, I went back over to finish the job. When I arrived, Evette was her usual frigid self, sitting at the table in her terrycloth robe and sipping a cup of black coffee.

As I walked over to her, I slipped one of the pictures I stole from my pocket and dropped it on the table in front of her. The look in her eyes— a mixture of anxiety and arousal— told me I had her exactly where I wanted her.
“I think we’d get along much better if I got to see this side of you more often,” I told her. “We should start ‘getting along’ now, too, so get that pretty ass of yours into the bedroom and wait for me on your knees.”

Without a word she got up and left the room. Then I found a short length of rope and went to join her. When I found her in the bedroom, I tied her hands behind her back, listening to her sigh as the rope caressed her skin. She was definitely getting excited, and when I felt her sopping wet pussy, my suspicions were confirmed.

After securely tying Evette’s hands, I got undressed and approached her. She resisted half heartedly, but after a minute of my touching and caressing her, she was moaning loudly and urging me to continue.

I pushed her to the floor and lightly smacked her ass a few times before walking around in front of her and having her suck my cock. Evette went wild, slurping all over my dick, and when I pulled out a few minutes later, she begged me to jack off and shoot my load on her face. But I wasn’t ready to come just yet.

Untying her, I told her to get on the bed and tied one hand to a bedpost, leaving the other hand free. Then I told her to pleasure herself while I watched and jerked myself off. I watched her play with herself as I stroked my dick, and she came several times. Each time she climaxed she asked me to climax and come on her face, but I still wasn’t ready yet. But after her third orgasm, I climbed on top of her and slammed my cock into her wet hole.
I rode her hard, even pushing her legs to her chest for deeper penetration. Then I came deep inside her as she came for a fourth time. When I pulled out I had her suck me clean and get me hard again.

This time I rolled her over onto her belly and tied both hands to the bedposts. I worked my cock into her cunt again as she moaned, and then I used our combined juices for lubrication as I pulled my dick out and pushed it into her ass instead. She squirmed and moaned with pleasure as I worked myself deep into her tight ass. Then, once I was all the way in, I again rode her hard. In no time, she was coming again, and not long after that, I shot my load in her ass.

After I pulled out, I untied her hands and she said, “Well, that’s the end of that . . . for now,” before chuckling.

Since then, Evette’s been my very willing sex partner. I guess she just needed to be put in her place.

H.P., South Bend, Indiana

Fetish Fun

I was quite interested in a recent letter concerning fetishes. It was written by a woman whose legs are worshipped by another woman who, in turn, has become enslaved by her own adoration. I know such a thing is possible, for my husband is a perfect example.

I am a long legged brunette of 27. My husband is 25. Right after our marriage two years ago, I discovered he would do absolutely anything to be able to kiss my legs so I have made a game of it.

Several evenings a week I make him strip, and then I bind his hands behind his back with a soft cloth that leaves no marks. I wear hip hugger shorts and spike heels. He must follow me on his knees as I go from room to room. Whenever I sit down, he must bend forward and kiss my feet or my legs. I move around for at least an hour, never allowing him to kiss the entire length of a leg, making him plead for that right.

I enjoy watching him crawl toward me on his knees, his stiff cock pointing the way. After teasing him at length, I sit on a footstool and let him kiss each leg from toes to crotch. Then I slip off the shorts and have him tongue me for at least half an hour, bringing me to repeated climaxes. Then I lead him to bed, where I mount his cock and ride it awhile until we both climax.

Saturday is a special day, for I have him scrub and wax the kitchen and bathroom floors on his hands and knees, nude, while I stand over him in hot pants. He is not allowed to touch, but, believe me, I can see a real reaction when he looks at my bare legs! By the time I do let him kiss them, his tongue is like fire, and I just sizzle inside.

Needless to say, I love being married to a leg fetishist.

Ms. M.D., Ohio

Slave for a Day

When a friend showed me an advertisement for a “slave auction” that was to be held at a local gay bar to benefit charity, I decided to volunteer as a “slave.” This was back in the early 70s, and it seemed to me a daring way to live out the fantasies I had about getting fucked. I had been hanging out with a gay crowd for several years, but had never surrendered myself in this way. I did want to help the charity the auction was to benefit, and I thought it would be an interesting erotic experience I hadn’t yet tried.

The auction was patterned on a Greek slave auction, and costumes consisted of short toga style robes that came down to mid thigh, and a pair of open sandals. Our hands were tied behind our backs, and we were marched out on the stage in a line. Then we were led backstage to await our return to the stage one at a time to be auctioned off.

The auctioneer was proficient, and his lively patter kept the bidding at a fast pace. He might have the slave flex a muscle, or lift the front of the robe for a quick peek at the genitals, which would usually bring the price up a bit, especially if the slave was an unusual beauty who someone was dying to have.

When it was my turn, the auctioneer untied my sash and let the robe fall open in front. Then he hefted my balls in his hand and said, “Look at the size of these.”

As the bidding warmed up, the auctioneer turned me around and bent me over a bit as he lifted the short robe to expose my ass. “See how beautiful and smooth it is,” he said as he rubbed his hand over my cheeks.

The bids continued to rise, and just when it looked like they had reached the peak, the auctioneer ran a finger up and down the crack of my ass and across my perineum to my testicles. When he added, “I’ll bet you wish this was your cock getting ready to enter here right now,” the bidding took a sharp and unexpected jump.

I was unbelievably excited at the thought of turning my body over to the highest bidder for a night of whatever he commanded.

The auctioneer’s probing finger and the whole erotic setting drove me to an unplanned erection. I was embarrassed, and I blushed deeply, but I was determined to make the best of it. When the auctioneer realized what was happening, he turned me around to face the audience again. He squeezed my erection a couple of times and said, “You can see that he’s hot. He really wants it.” Then the bidding went wild, and I drew what turned out to be the highest price of the night.

I watched as the other slaves were exhibited and sold in the same way. There were a couple of partial erections visible, but no other show as splendid as mine. The services of the slaves could be claimed at any mutually agreed time during the next two weeks, but my buyer was so turned on that he asked me if I’d come to his apartment right then and stay all the next day, which was Saturday.

To cheers, applause and catcalls, he led me, hands still tied, still wearing the Greek robe and still erect, down the aisle and out of the bar. It was the middle of the winter, but I was too hot and hard to really notice as we dashed across the parking lot to his car.

He didn’t untie me, even when we arrived at his apartment. He wanted to play out the slave scene all the way while we were both so deeply into the fantasy.

He had me kneel and bend across the end of the bed, and immediately began lubricating my ass. I was fully erect again in seconds. I had never done anything like this before and was really turned on.

Neither my buyer nor anyone else at the auction knew I was still an anal virgin. If they had, the price might even have gone higher. I badly wanted to get fucked up the ass, but I was a little apprehensive about the first time.

Along with my charitable intentions, I had volunteered for the auction partially as a way of forcing myself to try anal sex. I wanted to put myself in a position where I would be too embarrassed to chicken out. My “master” requested to proceed immediately, and that was perfect for me because I had no time for second thoughts. I was still hot and ready from the fantasies that had been racing through my mind while I was being fingered and fondled in front of the audience.

I told my “master” none of this, as I was actually a bit embarrassed at still being an anal virgin. After he greased me up, he started drilling me. Only after a very thorough fucking did he untie my hands. Then we climbed into bed, where we spent the rest of the night and the whole next day.

Mr. E.M., Pennsylvania

Pleasure Bound

Sandy and I have been meaning to write for a long time. We’ve been reading Forum for several years, and although we have had hundreds of spectacular orgasms as a result of ideas we have gotten from your magazine, both of us agree that the way to make a man’s cock truly explode in orgasm had never been fully detailed in your letters. In return for all the hours of pleasure you’ve given us, I’d like to describe the way Sandy does it.

She begins by tying me down, naked, to her total satisfaction. She never ties me the same way twice. When she is satisfied that I’m securely bound, she gives me her scent. It’s important to note here that we always do this before we shower, regardless of the time of day. Both of us truly enjoy the way the other smells.

Sandy positions herself so that I can enjoy the aroma of her hair, neck, underarms, legs and even her feet. Finally, she straddles my body, placing one knee above each of my shoulders, and inches her covered vagina closer and closer to my face.

At this point, her undergarment is always very wet, and it’s truly exciting to see that aromatic wetness just out of reach. Sandy has a very strong sexual fragrance especially when she comes home at the end of the day. The scent really acts as an aphrodisiac to me. This is one of the most maddening and sexually frustrating moments you can imagine, as I know what comes next. After a minute or two that seems like an hour, she pulls the fabric of her panties away, showing me her red satin inside, slippery and shiny with her desire. After a few seconds, she lowers herself to me, giving me a direct genital kiss with her wetness. This culminates in prolonged cunnilingus, and always results in an orgasm for her. In our public life, she and I are equals. However, she does enjoy playing a dominant role, and I must admit that I thoroughly enjoy it, too. Our sessions have led to many dynamic orgasms.

At this point, there’s usually a break in the action. She gets up, usually rubbing between her legs (she says it never stops tingling), and gets both of us a drink. She feeds me through a straw. She usually sips on her drink, and fondles her greatest asset, her breasts, with her free hand. She also loves the smell of her own pussy just as much as I do, and she often runs her fingers through the damp, fragrant hair between her legs. While she is doing this, I’m lying there on my back, hard as iron. Often, if I’m tied comfortably, we smoke hash for five minutes or so.

Again she kneels astride me, but this time she faces my feet, her mouth directly over my groin. During the entire time, she has not touched me there. And now she wraps her long, tanned, warm fingers all the way around the shaft, squeezes firmly and pushes the penile skin back, stretching it a bit, so that the end of my penis is very tight. If I’m in the right position, she will slid e a greased middle finger up my anal canal. And, finally, she plays with the opening in my cock with the tip of her tongue. When all these things happen at the same time to a man who is appropriately bound, it creates near sexual madness at least, it does in me.

She sits well up on my chest, with her open vagina accessible to my tongue, and begins sharp, quick strokes until I feel that I’m about to come. The sensation is unique when her hand is coated with a gel. Other times, she first takes me deeply into her mouth and uses the saliva that is left on my penis as a lubricant. She always stops pumping me with her hand just when she knows I’m near the point of no return. She knows me well enough to realize when I’m about to come. And then she stops and lets me settle down. Usually, she’ll release my cock completely and straighten up so that I can use long tongue strokes along her ass cheeks. She loves this, and I know what my tongue on her cheeks does to her. Then, after a very short lapse of a minute or two, she starts all over again.

She repeats this scene until she feels that I simply can’t stand one more delay, and then her body moves slightly forward. Her lips part, and I feel myself sliding into her mouth and down her throat. She’s worked for a long time to perfect her technique so that now she can engulf my entire shaft in her throat. She can even slip my testicles into her hot mouth. Sandy says that the feeling of my rod won her throat firing sperm deep into her body is definitely the best of all possible earthly experiences. I know it feels great to me!

Mr. (Name and address withheld by request)

A Hair Razing Tale

A few weeks ago, my girlfriend, Carol, asked me to give her a ride home after work, since her car was in the shop. When I stopped by the hairstyling salon where she works, Carol was just finishing her last cut. I asked her and Becky, the other stylist, why they were still hard at work when Linda, the owner, had already gone home. One of them told me that she was in the back of the shop doing a stenciling job.

“What’s a stenciling job?” I asked innocently.

The girls just smiled and laughed. After considerable coaxing, Carol explained that Linda had several customers who wanted initials shaved into their pubic hair. I asked if that skill was one they had learned in school.

Becky shot back, “No, but if you are volunteering to be my guinea pig, I am ready to learn.”

I quickly declined. Just then, Linda and an attractive girl in her early 20s entered the main room. The girl paid Linda and left.

I struck up a conversation with Linda, kidding her about her favorite football team, Michigan, which had been losing recently. Feeling a little cocky, I asked her if she’d like to make a wager.

“Linda, are you ready to lose a 10 spot on the Illinois Michigan game?”

I knew that Illinois had beaten Michigan easily in their first two meetings, and I also knew that Linda loved to gamble. Linda quickly agreed, and I thought I’d make an easy 10 bucks, but she insisted that a third party hold the money to prevent collection problems. I tried to borrow the money from Carol, but she said that she didn’t have enough money with her. Becky offered to put up the 10 spot, but made me promise that if Michigan won I would not only repay the loan but allow her to practice her stenciling. I agreed without giving it too much thought.

To my surprise, Michigan won the game. The next day, Carol asked me for another ride home from work. When I arrived, Carol told me that she was running a little late and it would be at least 45 minutes before she’d be through with the perm she was working on.

“That’s okay. He has a debt to pay off, anyway,” Becky quickly chimed in.

I gave Becky the 10 bucks I owed her, but refused to let her carve any initials in my pubes. Carol, Linda and Becky bitched that I was a welsher. Unmoved, I grabbed the newspaper and sat in one of the empty chairs.

Linda disappeared and returned a short time later. She wandered over to me and pretended to look over my shoulder at the newspaper, but after a few seconds she grabbed my wrist and clamped a handcuff around it. She attached the other handcuff to the side of the chair. With the help of Becky, Linda snapped a second set of cuffs around my other wrist and attached that pair to the other side of the chair. For a few minutes I struggled futilely with my bonds, but I quickly realized that I wasn’t going anywhere until they released me.

By now, all four women in the salon were laughing out loud! Carol explained the bet and its stakes to the lady whose hair she was perming. Then Becky asked the woman if she would be offended if payment were exacted before she left.

“Be my guest,” was her response. “I’ve always felt that all just debts should be promptly paid when due.”

After locking the front door, Becky forced the chair that I was in to fully recline. She unbuckled, unsnapped and unzipped my jeans. Linda tugged on one side of my pants, and Becky tugged on the other. Together they easily pulled them off.

Becky reached between my legs to grasp the crotch of my briefs, and yanked them off with one swift motion, tearing them in the process. The customer loudly gasped, “Oh, my God, you have to move me so I can see his crotch.”

With one hand, Becky pulled my rock hard erection down between my legs. With the other she grabbed the scissors and trimmed all my pubic hair to about one half inch in length. Then she placed the “K” stencil slightly above and to the right of the base of my prick. Becky combed out all the hair exposed by the opening forming the “K,” then cut the hair was short as she could. Next, a pink gel was painted over the stencil. When the stencil was removed, a pink “K” covered the remaining stubble. Becky selected a straight razor and carefully shaved the pink area until it was completely smooth. The “L” stencil was placed just above and to the left of the base of my cock, and the process was repeated.

When she finished the second initial, Becky stood back to admire her work and to get a review form the audience. The newly permed lady got up and traced the shaved are on my abdomen with her index finger.

“Why, it’s just as smooth as a baby’s behind,” she remarked.

Carol complained, “You know, he should really have to pay some kind of penalty for trying to welsh on the deal.”

“Yes,” Becky agreed, “but I guess we had better just clean him up for now.”

Becky washed my pubic area with soap and water to remove the remnants of the gel. However, she was not satisfied with cleaning just my pubic hair she soaped and stroked my bulging cock as well. I came very quickly, shooting several gobs of sperm on Becky’s hand. She promptly wiped it on my thigh and rubbed it in.

When Miss Perm realized what had happened, she lamented, “Damn it, if you were going to jerk him off, I sure wish you would have said something so I could have positioned myself to watch him shoot his wad.”

Linda appeased her by announcing that she would release my right hand, but, until I had brought myself to yet another climax, she would not release my left hand.

While I was recovering from the shock, Becky went to her car to get her Polaroid instant camera. She took several pictures of her handiwork, making sure that each woman had at least one.

“Okay, Kevin, let’s see you beat your meat,” giggled Linda.

I slowly slid my hand up and down my limp shaft. Miss Perm lent some assistance until I was hard, but then handed me my erection, saying, “It’s your show, shoot for the stars.”

With the ladies urging me on, I stroked myself with increasing speed and intensity. Becky stood with her camera at the ready. As my prick was engulfed with come, Becky began to take snapshots as my cock continued to pump spurt after spurt. Becky’s camera just kept clicking. Carol now tells me that Becky has a lovely pictorial of my payoff displayed in the back room of the salon for all to see. My hair’s grown back now, but I’ll be damned if Carol ever gets another ride home.

Mr. K.L., Indiana