He had three fixed video camera positions-each on a
motorized tripod with connections leading back to a
small table with a television monitor that Paul would
stand behind in the beginning to work the remotes. His
fourth video camera lay on the table, ready to go. He
could hear Debbie in the great room of their ranch-
style home, listening to some soft rock on the stereo
while she sipped, or maybe gulped, out of her fluted
crystal wine glass. She would need some liquid courage
tonight.
Paul and Debbie Winters had a perfect marriage. Their
only child, a teenaged son, lived on-campus as a
freshman at state college and they no longer lacked
extended privacy in their home. The Winters were not
rich, but Paul made a comfortable living and they had
the money to fulfill their interests. Paul’s interest
happened to be recording some of the sex sessions he
had with his wife.
Toward that end, over the years he had eventually
accumulated several video cameras, as well as the
computer and programs that helped him take a raw
disjointed session and, over a period of weeks, refine
and distill it to a seamlessly smooth production
rendered back onto videotape or placed on a compact
disc and sometimes both. Not for sale or trade of
course. No, just for his personal pleasure–hell, the
fun was in the creation and editing of his productions
and he didn’t need any one else to appreciate his
artistic efforts.
His wife, Debbie, had little or no interest in the
technical side of his work, except as far as she was
always the star either alone or with Paul. Sometimes,
Paul would pop a videotape or CD in and they would
watch it together. It had led to some intense love-
making.
Anyway, to date, Paul had ten separate tapes and disks,
covering the last ten years of their lives together.
The first six tapes contained short vignettes and
separate sessions taken at different times, while the
last four had been composed of one night’s activities.
Tonight, Paul intended to add a fifth session and that
is why Debbie squirmed in trepidation.
If Paul had his penchant for voyeurism and videography,
then it could be said that Debbie had her own sexual
interest that had strongly fed into Paul’s passion.
Over the years of their marriage, Debbie and Paul had
over time identified her own interest in sexual
humiliation and control. Starting slowly with being
“overpowered” or maybe a light spanking, they had come
to realize that she got quite a kick out of these types
of activities. And Paul had been more than willing to
indulge her interest and expand their sexual horizons
until he had a woman who would do just about anything
and, deep down, secretly wanted to be made to do it.
They really didn’t discuss their situations much with
each other. And truth be told, their corresponding
interests in humiliation or voyeurism didn’t come into
play in their normal sexual lives–who had the time or
inclination to tape every sexual encounter? Paul didn’t
use Debbie as his “slave” and they didn’t have a
master-slave 24/7 relationship going. No, their sex
life was pretty regular, all things considered, and
taping a session was a rare thing.
Oddly enough, it was Debbie who gave the signals that
let Paul know she was interested in making another
“movie”. Through subtle signals, rubbing up against
Paul, or holding his cock while he urinated, or maybe
just evincing a general playfulness, Debbie let Paul
know that she was up for a bout of nasty sex.
Knowing that Paul was videotaping them was a huge turn-
on for her, even though she knew that Paul didn’t share
his work with the outside world. And the things he did
to her and “made” her do to herself or to him were very
naughty and a powerful aphrodisiac to her. But somehow,
asking Paul for a session would kill much of the thrill
for her, so she relied on Paul picking up her signals
and choreographing an evening’s activities for them
both.
Debbie Winters was forty-three years of age, with
tousled blond shoulder-length hair and the face of a
pretty mother. She appeared to be a classic “Soccer
Mom” driving her ridiculously expensive sport-utility
vehicle around town. She was five foot seven and had
kept most of the beauty of her younger days, although
she had to diet constantly and exercise like a maniac
to stay relatively trim. Her heavy breasts, once-proud
36C cuppers, probably wouldn’t be confused with those
on an 18 year old, but what could you do? Her behind,
which Paul sometimes massaged in his sleep, may have
started to fall a bit, but it never failed to engage
Paul’s attention when they made love.
Debbie had a few little stretch marks on her from her
only pregnancy sixteen years ago, and she chose not to
wear a bikini at the beach, but her tummy was as
shapely as could be expected and it certainly didn’t
bulge badly or anything like that. She waited anxiously
on the couch in a short white terry-cloth bathrobe,
(Paul didn’t go in much for lingerie or anything else
time-consuming); her hair pulled back into a cute
blonde pony-tail.
Paul made his final checks, and consulted his watch.
Any minute now, he guessed. This would be a crowning
achievement in his film-making career and a milestone
in their relationship. Tonight would be the first time
he brought in another man and would film him as he used
Paul’s wife. He was as nervous as a cat. After months
of thought and idle search, Paul had met the perfect
guy for this project. He was a cook at a local bar and
grill.
Paul had “discovered” him in the bathroom. Jimmy the
Cook was a dark-skinned black male in his late
thirties; about five foot nine and probably two hundred
and twenty pounds. Built like a fireplug. Not a great
looking guy or a successful one. But it wasn’t his
looks that got Paul’s attention as much as when Jimmy,
stepped up to the adjacent urinal and fished out one
hell of a dong to piss with. He had a long dark prick,
one of those where the head is actually the thinnest
part, while the cock stem was wider. The thing had to
be ten inches long– two hands worth, Paul figured and
he was excited about the thought of how that blacksnake
would look against his wife’s white skin.
Jimmy was intrigued when Paul put the sales pitch to
him right then and there. He quizzed Paul about his
plans for the scene and the things he wanted Jimmy and
his wife to do. He couldn’t believe that Paul would be
willing to allow him to fuck his wife. Paul had to
explain a couple of times that it was all part of
Debbie’s groove and that it was all okay. Jimmy was
raring to go, so Paul got his beeper number.
A few weeks of waiting and a clean bill of health
later, Paul had called him for tonight. Jimmy was
coming over after the kitchen closed. Wouldn’t Debbie
be surprised?!
His work finished for the time being, Paul headed out
into the living room where Debbie was waiting. Paul
grinned self-consciously at her. His inactivity would
lead Debbie to realize that he seemed to be waiting for
something. Or waiting for someone? When Debbie heard a
car door slam outside, she glanced nervously towards
the window and then back at Paul. He nodded slightly.
When the doorbell rang, Debbie’s body froze and she
stared at the door. Paul went to answer it. The black
man was at the door.
Paul greeted his guest and allowed him into the home.
Jimmy’s eyes swept nervously over Debbie’s form as his
made his greeting to Paul. Paul watched Debbie’s eyes–
they were wide with surprise.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s go into the den,” Paul
suggested. The men waited until Debbie slowly got up
and padded down the hall–her ass swinging nicely under
the terrycloth of her robe; her nice legs on view as
she retreated. “Need a beer, Jimmy?” Paul asked.
“I’d like that Mister Winters,” the black cook
answered, nervously. Paul popped behind the dry bar and
grabbed two beers out of the small fridge. He also
grabbed Debbie’s glass from the coffee table where she
had left it and freshened her glass of wine. She would
need it, he figured. He wondered what was going through
her mind as she waited for them. The two men walked
down the entrance hall into the den.
Debbie sat on the couch with her legs primly together,
her sturdy thighs a flawless white. They could see her
wonderful cleavage down the top of her robe. She seemed
tense and nervously expectant. Her eyes were cast
slightly down–she wouldn’t meet their eyes. She was
already in her zone. This was going to work, Paul
thought excitedly.
Jimmy stopped at the door and gazed in wonder at the
variety of cameras and equipment Paul had arrayed for
the night. “Wow, this is a lot of shit here,” he
exclaimed. Paul nodded proudly.
“I
like to do it up right, Jimmy. Step in and make
yourself comfortable. Sit down on the couch there, and
I’ll introduce you. I’ll start rolling tape now and
then introduce you to Debbie. I’m going to start the
cameras.” With that, Paul retreated behind his table
while Jimmy sat down on the couch, clearly
uncomfortable and nervous about sitting next to Debbie.
Debbie took a large sip of her white wine. Paul
switched his cameras on. His monitors showed him the
perfect focus on the couch and its occupants and all
systems were go. “Look at each other”, he ordered. Both
participants glanced at each other. Paul smiled
excitedly and stepped out in view of the cameras. He
beckoned to his wife. Debbie put her wine glass down,
stood up, and approached her husband. Paul began the
introductions.
“Jimmy, I’d like you to meet my wife Debbie.” Paul
turned Debbie around to face the seated black man,
while holding her hand companionably. “Debbie, say hi
to our guest.” Debbie said her hello in an almost
inaudible voice and Jimmy nodded back at her. Paul
stepped in behind his wife and continued.
“Now Jimmy, you know what you’re here for. That is to
say that I’ve told you what gets Debbie excited, and
how I like to videotape her little escapades. Before we
get under way, I’ll take a few minutes to show you
Debbie’s unique charms.” Paul reached around in front
of Debbie and untied the belt to her short robe.
Debbie gasped as Paul gently pulled the garment away
from her body, leaving her exposed to the stranger in
their home. Paul gently pulled the robe off her
shoulders before tossing it aside. He stepped in close
behind his pretty wife. He cupped and lifted her milky
white breasts with their large dusky red nipples. He
ran his thumbs over her stiffening nipples.
“These are Debbie’s tits, Jimmy. They are 36c cups, and
Debbie breastfed our only child with them. She also fed
me more than once back in those days,” Paul told him,
matter-of-factly. Debbie blushed red and closed her
eyes, but her chest was heaving with the embarrassment
of the situation. Paul went on, “Her boobs are nice and
heavy,” he hefted them a few times for Jimmy’s benefit,
“and she certainly doesn’t mind when someone squeezes
them,” Debbie gasped as Paul’s fingers dug into her
breasts forcefully, “or even when they get slapped.”
Debbie’s hands flew involuntarily up from her waist to
protect herself and then she automatically dropped her
hands back down to her side and waited. Paul’s right
hand slapped her hanging tittie forcefully as much an
exhibition for Jimmy and a little punishment for
Debbie’s reaction. The slap rang out in the room and
Debbie yelped.
“Now on continue. Debbie if you will please get down on
all fours with your butt facing Jimmy.” Paul waited as
Debbie got down on her hands and knees with her
backside facing their guest. Paul knew how vulnerable
she felt, presenting in such a way. He knelt down
beside her and placed his hands on her buttocks. He
separated her cheeks.
“Here is my wife’s pussy — you can see how wet it is
getting.” It was true. Debbie’s pussy, closely shorn,
was pulled open and she glistened inside with
excitement from being on display. “This pussy has given
me a lot of pleasure over the years. Now tonight it’s
your turn to use it, Jimmy. Debbie would like that,
wouldn’t you hon?”
Debbie mumbled something incoherently.
“What did you say, hon? Because I really don’t think we
heard you. I asked if you were ready to give your pussy
up to Jimmy for his use and your pleasure. Are you
ready for that?”
“Yes,” Debbie breathed.
“It’s been such a fun pussy, and it tastes wonderful,
wouldn’t you say, dear?”
“Yes, dear,” Debbie answered, thinking back to the
times Paul’s cock had gone into her mouth straight out
of her soaked vagina.
Paul’s fingers traveled higher, spreading her cheeks
and displaying the crinkled, dusky brown circle of his
wife’s anus to Jimmy. He tapped her butthole with his
finger. “This hole is also for you, Jimmy. Debbie loves
a butt-fuck and I’m sure you’ll be able to give her a
deep one. We’ll have to see if you can even fit in
there. It’s always been fun up there for us.” Paul
stood up. “Anyway, let’s make some good video.” Jimmy
nodded nervously in acknowledgment.
Paul stood up and surveyed his tableful of equipment.
Paul’s monitor screen picture was split in four parts–
three views of the couch with a blank fourth segment
where Paul’s handheld camera would display. He grabbed
his handheld and switched it on.
“Jimmy, just take your shirt and pants off–leave your
underwear on,” Paul suggested. Jimmy stood up self-
consciously and pulled his shirt over his head. “Toss
your stuff behind the couch.” Jimmy didn’t bother
folding his shirt. He kicked off his shoes–he wore no
socks–and tossed them behind the couch. Then he turned
slightly away from their view and self-consciously
unbuckled his belt and unzipped his work pants–stained
from another day behind the grill–pulling them down,
revealing his old dingy white underwear.
He stepped out of his pants and carelessly threw them
also, before shyly turning back to face Paul and Deb.
Paul noted that Jimmy’s underwear were worn and
yellowed– probably don’t get washed that often, he
reflected. He saw his wife still on all fours on the
floor, watching the performance over her shoulder. She
eyed the amount of space Jimmy’s equipment seemed to
take up in the front of his Hanes. And really, it
looked like there was a pair of black socks or
something jammed up in Jimmy’s trogs.
“Sit down, Jimmy,” Paul directed. “Deb, sit down next
to Jimmy. Jimmy sat himself back down. He grabbed his
beer and took a deep pull from it. Deb sat down slowly
on the couch next to the black stranger. She tried not
to appear nervous, but Paul could tell she was edgy.
“Jimmy, start kissing Deb. She’ll reach into your
underwear and play with you.”
Jimmy turned to Debbie, anticipation in his eyes now.
He slid next to her and put his arm around her and bent
his face down. Paul watched his wife raise her face and
then, with her eyes closed, allowed Jimmy’s lips to
contact hers.
Debbie felt a sickening thrill as she tasted Jimmy’s
sour breath, laced with beer, and then felt his tongue
invade her mouth, frenching her deeply in front of her
filming husband. She flushed red with the forbidden
shame. Remembering her husband’s instructions, she slid
her right hand dutifully down the sparse tight-curled
hairs on his stomach and massaged his package through
his dingy shorts, measuring him with her fingers.
His long, fat shaft seemed to curl around on itself in
the tight confinement of his underwear. It was huge,
she knew. More of a weapon than a tool for love. She
gently pulled on the soft curve of his penis, pulling
him out of the top of his underpants, until finally the
majority of his penis fell out of his underwear, lying
right on his lap.
Paul watched in excitement as the black man soul-kissed
his wife. His own groin was tight with excitement and
he rubbed himself with one hand as he came closer to
record the action. He watched the action for a few
minutes and Jimmy french-kissed Debbie and she
responded as best she could. He tried to judge his own
feelings. He found the scene to be slightly repulsive
but stimulating nonetheless.
“Okay, Deb, do your stuff–on your knees between his
legs–leave his underwear on,” Paul commanded tersely.
Debbie thankfully broke off the kiss–her own lips wet
with saliva. Her face burned red with humiliation and
she felt her groin felt moist and heavy. She slid down
gingerly between Jimmy’s legs. He spread his legs to
accommodate the slim soccer mom. Debbie knew
instinctively what type of activity that her husband
wanted to film. So she began to mouth Jimmy’s testicles
lightly through his BVDs, gnawing and blowing her warm
breath through the old fabric for his enjoyment.
Without pausing in her task, she reached up onto
Jimmy’s stomach and began to softly stroke his black
snake up and down with the circle of her fingers. Jimmy
sat back and moaned aloud at her ministrations, flexing
his hips as his long thick cock slowly inflated on his
belly. Deb continued working his balls thru the cloth
for awhile, the only sounds in the room was her
breathing and Jimmy’s low moans.
Time for her next trick–she used both hands to peel
away the elastic from Jimmy’s left leg, exposing a bit
of his ball sac, with its nappy, tightly curled little
curlicues of hair. She began to lick his salty flesh,
at the juncture between his balls and his thigh. Jimmy
began to idly stroke the head of his cock and he laid
his head back on the couch. His penis lengthened
and
fattened itself with his blood. It made for good
cinema. “Take his pants off–Jimmy, you pull your legs
up,” Paul managed to croak.
Jimmy lifted his hips off the couch and he and Deb
tugged his underwear off. The camera caught the
briefest flash of the light skid mark in Jimmy’s
underpants before he kicked them away. Jimmy sat back
and pulled his feet up onto the edge of the couch. He
spread his legs, exposing his big black testicles to
view. Paul captured them on film.
Debbie took the opportunity to reach down and feel
herself down there– she was wet with dirty excitement,
servicing this black man. She tweaked her clitoris and
it responded hotly. “Go Deb, get to work on him–and
you know what I’m going to want,” Paul murmured,
zooming in on his wife as she lowered her head to the
black man’s groin and commenced licking his balls, her
wet pink tongue contrasting sexily with the blackness
of Jimmy’s groin.
Jimmy’s balls tasted musty and salty and a little bit
like stale urine–like he hadn’t showered in a few
days. She lifted his balls up to her face ands she
laved her big spreading wet licks on his ball sack.
Jimmy stroked himself idly in time to Debbie’s wet
ministrations.
Paul filmed away, checking his stationary cameras to
see if they were capturing the angles he intended, and
then moved in close with his handheld camera. He zoomed
onto a tight shot of his beautiful wife tongue-washing
the black man, her wonderful mouth wetting the guy’s
monstrous balls, making them glisten for the cameras.
She always had a wet mouth–her mouth seemed to water
when she was on the job. Jimmy flailed lightly away at
his meat, moaning softly as the little wife worked him.
“How do you like your first black man, Debbie?” Paul
asked.
“I love it,” Debbie replied dutifully, her voice
muffled in Jimmy’s balls.
“You like his cock–that big black cock?”
“Yes.”
“And those balls–do they taste good?”
“Yes.”
“You should start playing with yourself,” Paul
suggested, working his handheld back out from the tight
shot. He filmed his wife, starting from her delicious
backside right over her shoulders to where her mouth
licked and suckled Jimmy’s testes. He filmed her right
hand disappearing under her to play with her pussy. It
was good.
Debbie stroked her clitoris, and then felt her pussy–
it felt so luxuriously tingly down there. She slipped
her index finger lightly inside her pussy lips,
enjoying the feel of the digit sliding up and down her
wetness. She plied herself as she worked the black man,
knowing how good she was able to make him feel in this
humiliating situation. Paul’s questions made her warm,
and she knew it would only get deliciously worse for
her.
Jimmy gasped when her tongue finished with his big ball
sack and moved onto his perineum. She laved him there
hoping Paul wouldn’t want her to do the next thing–the
thing he liked so much…
“You good, Jimmy?” Paul asked. The black stud was
sitting back with his eyes closed.
“I’m gonna bust my nut–cuz this shit is too good,”
Jimmy warned.
“Debbie?”
“Hmm…?”
“Do him like you do me. You’re going to like this
Jimmy. When you’re ready, just shoot on your stomach,
okay?” Jimmy nodded, his head lolling back on the
couch, his eyes closed. Debbie flushed at Paul’s
command. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do. It
was something she had only done for him–her husband–
and it embarrassed her that Paul wanted her to exhibit
her talent for this black stranger. But she knew she
would do it for him.
She pushed lightly at Jimmy’s thighs and Jimmy got the
hint. He spread his feet and thighs still wider and
inched himself closer to the edge of the couch, giving
Debbie the room she needed to work. To give her better
access. To his butt.
Debbie closed her eyes and eased her face lower in
Jimmy’s groin. Until her forehead was touching his
balls. She used her thumbs to part the black’s
asscheeks lightly. Then Debbie moved her face down
farther and started to lick his ass. Her nose was
pressed up against his perineum as she wetted him. Away
from the immediacy of the camera, she opened her eyes a
little. Even his asshole was big, a large purplish soft
star, reeking like only a butthole can–worse than her
husband’s certainly. Thank God for the numbing effects
of alcohol.
She could taste the black man’s ass, but at least it
wasn’t bad enough to make her gag. She was warm with
embarrassment, doing this act, at her husband’s
insistence, on a black man she had just met a few
minutes ago. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Paul
kneel down next to her and film her indecency. It was
disgusting, and yet stimulating for her. Her pussy felt
swollen and she pressed her thighs together. It felt so
good.
Paul felt his own cock standing straight out ready to
burst. How few times had he ever been this close to
shooting his own load without ever having touched his
cock? It was pretty rare, but this was one of those
times. He felt like he could go off any second without
warning. He watched Debbie working Jimmy, her pink
tongue swirling around the black anus and then as she
began to probe lightly into Jimmy’s most private
cavity. Jimmy grunted every time.
Debbie knew he liked it, and she felt proud somehow.
Had he ever had one of his women do this for him? she
wondered. She knew he was very close to his orgasm–his
nutsack had tightened up from the loose bag of balls he
had started with. She felt him inch even closer to the
edge and saw him drop his left hand down to help spread
himself better for her. Debbie buried her face in him
and planted her mouth on his anus in an obscene French
kiss, sucking strongly on his butthole and alternately
inserting her pointy tongue into Jimmy’s ass. He went
wild.
Paul backed his camera off just as Jimmy announced his
intention.
“Here it comes, here it comes,”
And while Debbie worked on the black man, Paul captured
Jimmy furiously stroking his cock until he started
spurting his semen up into the air and back down onto
his stomach and groin. He was a big comer, shooting
four nice spurts and then oozing the rest onto his skin
as he rubbed his cock on his stomach. He was groaning
and the microphones would pick that up as well as
Debbie’s soft sucking sounds. Jimmy was really a mess.
Debbie relaxed and pulled her face out after Jimmy
stopped shooting. This close to his groin, she could
smell the familiar tang of the sperm which had landed
on Jimmy’s stomach. He had shot a bunch of nice strings
of slightly-yellow cum onto himself and the rest kind
of lay clotted on his abdomen. Or maybe it only seemed
yellow because he was so dark. His stomach was wet with
goo clinging to the tight sparse little curls of hair.
Debbie sat back, resting her pussy full on the heel of
her foot and waited for Paul’s next command. He looked
so excited and she saw that her act had had quite an
effect on him.
Paul set his video camera down on the table with the
lens facing Debbie. His cock felt like it was out of
control and he was afraid he would shoot his load if he
even moved. But he walked carefully across the room and
picked up Debbie’s wine glass and brought it to her.
Should he? Would she? It would make a great little
ending to this scene, he hoped. As long as she didn’t
refuse.
“You need something to wash your mouth out with, hon?”
“Yes,” Debbie replied humbly, watching her husband.
What was he going to do?
Jimmy watched idly, probably wondering the same thing.
Paul made sure he was in full view of his cameras
before he reached down to his stiff cock and stroked
it. It didn’t take long. Paul gasped as he lowered the
wine glass down to abdomen level and tipped his stiff
cock down to meet it. And then he blasted his juice
into it.
Holy fuck, it felt good — it almost hurt it was so
ready. He unloaded himself completely into his wife’s
wine glass, his ropes of cum hitting the inside of the
glass and dripping down to mix into the white wine,
holding itself together in the lighter liquid. It was
really something. When he was finished his legs were
weak. He stepped to Debbie and held the glass out. She
looked surprised, her face flushed and her mouth open.
“Drink this,” Paul said softly. “Just do it,” he added,
hoping she wouldn’t refuse and ruin this part of the
video.
Jimmy sat looking stunned at Paul and then down at his
white wife. Was she going to do it?
Debbie moaned and ground herself lightly on her heel.
Her face felt hot and flushed–what was this about?
Wasn’t it enough for her to do this black guy and even
use her mouth on his butt? How far was this night going
to go? Now he wanted her to drink
this wine–in front
of a stranger!? But she saw the look of intensity on
Paul’s face and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
Without as much as a sigh to ruin it for him, she took
the proffered glass from her husband. She swirled it
around and then brought it to her mouth and drank
slowly. Paul and Jimmy watched the wine mixed with
spunk enter her mouth–watched her throat as she
swallowed the mixed drink. And Debbie even threw back
her head and let the last of Paul’s dregs drip into her
open mouth before she finally handed the empty glass
back to her husband. “Thanks,” Paul mouthed at her and
she nodded shyly back at him.
Paul put the glass down and picked his mobile camera
back up. Time to finish this scene. “Okay, hon, if
you’ll just clean Jimmy off, we’ll take a rest. You can
do yourself at the same time,” he ordered softly.
Debbie got off her heels and slid back between the
Jimmy’s legs. She had done these clean-ups many times
to Paul and she knew what he wanted. She grasped
Jimmy’s big flaccid prick and held it aside. It was
really an amazing organ, so long and thick and warm.
Her face hovered over his stomach. With her right hand
she began to play with herself, teasing and tucking her
fingers into her wet snatch–it felt so warm and loose
in there, achingly ready for some real action.
Her face came down on Jimmy’s stomach and she began to
lick and lightly suck Jimmy’s load off his body. Paul
caught the action as his wife cleaned Jimmy off. Her
tongue disappeared into Jimmy’s belly button which held
a rich deposit of his sperm. She cleaned it out and
moved on. His sperm was just like Paul’s, salty and
pungently tangy.
This was one of the things Debbie enjoyed doing for
Paul and it never failed to help her along greatly to
her orgasm. To her surprise, she moaned just like she
would if she was doing Paul and she worked slowly, but
eagerly, on Jimmy’s abdomen, making his load disappear.
She felt her own climax coming on, her pussy widening
in small muscular twitches.
As she finished the last string of cum, her pussy
clamped shut repeatedly on her fingers and she lay her
head down on Jimmy’s stomach and rested there, enjoying
the pleasant sensations she had given herself. She
contemplated Jimmy’s black snake as it rested just a
few inches from her face and that sight gave her a few
extra squeezes, a few extra seconds of pleasure. Jimmy
stroked her hair lightly, amazed at his incredible luck
and blown away by her incredible performance.
And then the first act was over. Paul set the camera
down, although it was still recording. Sometimes, the
between-scenes activities could make some pretty
interesting filler for his videos. He picked up Deb’s
empty glass and Jimmy’s beer bottle and headed back to
the bar, leaving Deb alone with Jimmy.
Debbie got up and put her robe back on–she still felt
the need for modesty in front of this stranger
regardless of what she had just done with him. For his
part, Jimmy sat back relaxed on the sofa, his arms and
legs sprawled comfortably akimbo, his black snake
resting on his lap. Debbie sat down demurely at the
other end of the couch. Jimmy seemed very at ease now
that his resources had been drained.
“You something else, you know that?”
“Thank-you,” Debbie answered demurely.
“What’s next–what we gonna do next?” Jimmy asked,
peering over at her.
“I don’t know–I really don’t know — whatever Paul
wants, I guess…”
Debbie could not raise her glance to meet his eyes.
“And you do whatever your man wants? Even with me?”
“I…I’ve always–I always do what Paul wants when we
do these movies,” Deb answered, flustered by all the
questions. “I let him film whatever he wants — that’s
the way we do it.”
“And you get off on it, right?” Jimmy pressed.
“I…yes, I get off on it.”
“What part you like best — what gets you off the
most?”
Debbie sat, mortified by the personal questions. In
that respect, it really was a night for irony. “I
guess, I’m into the acts and the words,” she finally
admitted quietly. “Having to do something, kind of
being ‘forced’ to do something. I guess it gets me
off,” she finished lamely.
Jimmy sat thinking for a moment. Debbie wanted Paul
back in the room badly. This conversation–she felt she
had to answer Jimmy’s questions to be a polite hostess-
-made her uncomfortable. It was worse than the actual
acts could be.
“What things you do to feel humiliated? Besides what we
already done, I mean,” Jimmy pried.
Paul came back, bringing his wife a clean glass of wine
and a couple of beers for Jimmy and himself. “I, uh…
usually Paul does some things to me, or has me do them
to myself. Those kind of things,” Debbie tried to be
evasive, all the more self-conscious of her sexual
interest now that Paul was back. But Jimmy wasn’t
having any of that.
“Tell me some things you like.”
Debbie flushed hotly. She felt heated throughout her
body, a sign of her excitement. She knew her husband
was also waiting on her answer.
“Paul likes to spank me sometimes. And he likes my
breasts. And my behind–to hit them with things–little
whips, I mean. And my stomach and my legs and my back,
I guess. It just helps me along, you know…”
“You really like being spanked and whipped, lady?”
“Yes, Debbie breathed, wanting to slide her hand back
down into her robe and rub herself for a little while.
“Don’t it hurt?”
“Yes, it can hurt.”
“And that’s okay–that’s what you want?”
“Yes,” Debbie whispered, wishing she could crawl away
and hide. She could hear the edge in Jimmy’s voice.
About her thing and the things she had already done.
“Okay then, lady. I can do them things,” Jimmy stated
confidently.
“I hope you can, Jimmy.” Paul handed him a beer. Jimmy
took a huge drink, draining half the bottle. Short-
order cooks are always alcoholics. Paul followed suit.
“I hope you can supply all the nasty that we’re looking
for, isn’t that right, hon?”
“Yes dear.” She sipped her wine greedily, studiously
avoiding their gazes.
“I guess we can begin now, if you’re ready, Jimmy”
Jimmy nodded absently in Paul’s direction, his
attention still fixed on the dainty little wife at the
other end of the couch. He drained the last of the
bottle. “You really can put them down, eh Jim? I’ll get
you another.”
Paul went out and grabbed three more beers, hoping that
Jimmy wouldn’t get too drunk to be any further use. He
already had a spectacular scene in the can but it would
be a major disappointment to lose the rest of the
night. He set the beers down on the end table. Going
over to his control table, he swiveled the mounted
cameras to the center of the room and then grabbed his
portable camera off the table. He stood towards the
center of the room where two indiscreet eyebolts
protruded from the ceiling.
“If you’re ready, Deb, I think we can begin. If you’ll
stand up and toss the robe aside.”
Debbie drained her wine and shakily stood up. Her legs
felt weak with excitement. She slowly pulled the short
robe off and stood there naked in front of the men,
wanting so badly to suck her little tummy in and cup
her breasts to hide them from the view of the black
man.
“We’ll need some restraints for your arms, hon. They’re
in the top right drawer.”
Debbie crossed the room and opened the top drawer of
the office desk. She pulled out two lengths of black
polyester straps which terminated in leather cuffs at
one end and snaps at the other. The straps were
adjustable. “The black cat and the paddle, I think,”
Paul added. “Bring them to our guest.”
She brought out the cat o’ nine tails, a plastic
liquorice-type whip with tiny plastic balls at the end
of the tails. There were really more than nine tails on
the whip–probably more like twenty. It really didn’t
break the skin, but wielded with a heavy hand, it could
make her think it had. The paddle was simply a five
inch wide pine board that was about half an inch thick.
The paddle had a hand-carved stylized phallic handle.
Paul had lovingly carved and planed both parts of the
paddle.
He had even painted the words, “For All The Good Times”
onto the paddle before he applied polyurethane to seal
the paddle wood and make it shine. Reversed, the handle
could be inserted at need into one of Debbie’s
orifices. He had given it to her on Christmas Day as a
stocking stuffer years ago. She had been so excited
that they had used it that morning and many times
since. The paddle had been through a lot with Paul and
Deb Winters. Debbie brought her load of equipment over
to Jimmy, who had stood up eagerly. She set the tools
down.
“Fasten the cuffs on her and
then just click the snap-
rings into the eyebolts in the ceiling. We want her
arms above her head.”
Jimmy stalked over to Debbie, his black penis dangling
as he approached the small white woman. Debbie held out
her hands and Jimmy fixed the padded leather cuffs
around each wrist. He clipped the straps to the
eyebolts in the ceiling and adjusted the straps until
Deb’s arms were pulled up over her shoulders. Debbie
felt horribly exposed and vulnerable now, unable to
defend herself from Jimmy. He stepped back and
appraised her.
Debbie consciously tried to pull her stomach in to make
herself more appealing. She closed her eyes–she didn’t
want to have to watch–what was going on was just too
embarrassing for her. Her nipples had stiffened the
moment the cuffs had gone on. Jimmy eyed her
approvingly and stepped around behind Debbie.
“I’ll want you to use the cat on Debbie, and also to
slap and squeeze her–she’ll like that.”
“Okay,” Jimmy answered.
“And after that, a nice spanking and then you can bang
her on all fours from behind–whatever you want, no
limits, okay, Jimmy? You can call her anything you
want. She’ll like that.”
“Yeah. All right. You got it.”
“And don’t worry about Deb screaming or crying–it’s
all part of the game. She gets out a lot of emotions–
she says she feels kind of cleansed when it’s all said
and done. We have a ‘safe’ word, a word she’ll say if
the scene gets too heavy for her,” Paul added, looking
at his wife. Deb looked up from the floor at Paul. They
both knew they didn’t have a safe word. Deb looked back
down.
“All right, I can handle it,” Jimmy promised. Debbie
felt the black man sidle up to her from behind. His
penis pressed against the small of her back as he
leaned over her. His hands came around to gently cup
and heft her breasts. Jimmy started to kiss her
shoulder lightly and Debbie involuntarily reacted,
shivering in goose bumps. She hadn’t expected that.
Slowly Jimmy’s hands increased the pressure on her
funbags, his fingers gently digging into her as he
breathed his beer-breath into the hollow of her neck.
Deb felt his large strong hands squeezing her and her
breasts starting to ooze out between his strong
fingers. She slowly came up onto her toes in answer.
Jimmy’s voice in her ear. “You like me to play with
these?”