The Best of Kay Jaybee (12 page)

I marvelled at the size of them; they were like small round apricots, and I wondered how hard it had been to get them in, and how stomach-churningly fantastic it must feel to have them slowly removed, especially while a tongue was lapping you to climax. Except that didn't seem to be happening, although I did notice that Mary's back legs were beginning to take on a mild quivering as her body betrayed the first signs that she would, eventually, lose the battle over her concentration.

Of course that was the point; Michael fully intended her to lose this test, but how long she would last was the important thing. From the satisfied expression on his face, I guessed she was doing well so far.

Michael gestured again and Amanda increased her pace as Julia plopped out another bead, even bigger than the last.

The bride began shaking more obviously, but her face remained set as her brother-in-law yanked her head up higher still, her arms struggling to stay firmly on the floor.

The groom rose from his seat. Dropping his trousers, he stripped, and his bride's eyes widened with genuine hunger. The sight of his hard, lust-filled body was her undoing, and although the groan which escaped her lips was only faint, it was enough to deserve punishment.

The gasp from my filming counterpart rang through the room, but was ignored by those involved in the show before us. The groom had removed a wide paddle from his desk drawer and had approached his wife with a look which conflicted between pleasure and disappointment.

As the first stroke connected with her bare backside, Julia pulled out the remaining Thai beads, and Amanda stepped back, leaving her new mistress' pussy hungry and slick.

I didn't need to look at what Michael was doing. I could hear the sweep of the paddle through the still air and the clap as it connected with his slave's arse. I studied his wife. Her face had clammed up. The smile had vanished, her eyes had crunched into tense knots, her mouth had become small as she bit her lips together in an attempt to keep the torture a mute suffering; in obedient endurance to the man she'd just married.

I squirmed a little in my chair. The leather seat felt hot now, and I knew that given half a chance I'd have escaped to the orgy in the adjoining room to find some physical attention. I risked a look at the bloke next to me. About my age perhaps, pretty good-looking in a lanky sort of way, with spiky dark hair; the wide-eyed disbelief that had been etched on his face earlier had been replaced by sheer lust. I began to let my imagination skip ahead to when Mary's humiliation would be over, just so the two of us could provide each other with the relief we desperately needed.

The smacking went on. After 12 strokes, there was a change. Mary's arms collapsed beneath her. It happened suddenly, as if all the fight went out of her in one go.

Michael grabbed her hips, and pulled her backside up in his arms. Roaring orders now, all the quiet of the room shattered, he commanded his bridesmaids to go back beneath his bride, and reaffix their hungry mouths around the bride's tits, while signalling for his brother-in-law to stick his cock in whichever maid he fancied, and for the returned best-man (I have no idea at what point he re-entered the room), to do the same to the other.

I didn't know where to look first as the two couples began fucking on the floor while continuing to stimulate the hapless bride. My eyes, however, were drawn back to the groom, who, lifting Mary's arse up so that it reached his prostrate cock, pushed into her willing body, and banged her back and forth against him. Treating her as if she was a rag doll, he physically tugged at Mary's whole form, slamming her against his dick.

As Mary was moved, the bridesmaids struggled to keep her breasts in their mouths, and I could tell from the streams of tears that ran down the bride's previously composed face, that the soreness of the recently pierced nipple was being freshly enflamed by Amanda's efforts to keep it within her teeth as she herself was shagged hard.

Now, everything seemed to happen at once. Amanda began to climax as Michael's brother spunked into her, soon followed by Julia, and then Michael himself, who flung his head back in a roar of satisfaction, dropping his bride onto the floor in an abandoned heap.

No one spoke. The silence that had gone before seemed comfortable with hindsight, as we collectively held our breath to see what the groom would do next.

I watched as Michael dressed himself back into his finery; his brother did the same. Then they stripped the bridesmaids, who were obviously grateful to have their cloyingly rubber outfits removed. Quickly they were clad in mini-skirts and see-through white blouses, turning them into waitresses for the reception ahead. I wondered how many times they would be on the menu themselves, and if I'd be lucky enough to partake of their pleasures.

I shook myself; the groom was looking down at his wife, who, having been given no permission to move, was crouched exactly as he'd dropped her, her own pleasure still withheld.

He leant down and gently helped Mary to rise. ‘This is our wedding day, my darling, and so I reward you for your stamina.'

She lowered her gaze and said, ‘Thank you, my lord,' as he stroked his palm over her clit, letting her orgasm against him, as she leant heavily on his shoulder.

‘Good girl,' He stroked his slave's hair as her attendants stripped away her clothes, just leaving the tit harness, collar and lead in place. ‘However, your performance was far from faultless, so you are at the mercy of the guests, my dear. If they want you, they may have you, as long as they are properly sheathed, of course.'

‘Yes, my lord.' She spoke quietly, but her eyes showed me she was as turned on by this idea as her husband was, and I finally saw that they were indeed a pair well met.

The party left then, leaving the nameless camcorder operator and me alone. They had only been gone seconds when he turned to me. He looked as if he was about to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. I simply nodded in understanding. With a speed I'd never previously experienced, we stripped off, and fell into one of the quickest, but most necessary fucks of our lives.

Relieved and revitalised, we hastily disappeared separately into the crowd, where independently we both, having finished our official duties, drank a lot of champagne, ate expensive food, and hunted down the bridesmaids. I don't know if my colleague found one, but I certainly did.

Ghost

He was everywhere. At least, the logo of the stationery company he worked for was everywhere. There was no escape.

She hadn't expected the knock at the door. She'd hoped it would come, but she hadn't expected it. If Jo was honest with herself, too much of her time had been wasted longing for the sound of his distinctive hammering against the letterbox. As it wasn't a noise she'd heard for nearly three months, she'd almost resigned herself to it being merely a dream – a pointless hope. Almost. He was merely a shadow. A ghost. A ghost who was married to someone else. A ghost she had no right to see anyway.

Many had been the night, dildo in hand, her fingers straying over her body, eyes tightly closed, pretending he was there, planning how she would treat him if he ever showed up on her doorstep again expecting a fuck. Jo never dreamt she'd have the courage to actually go through with it, but then she'd never dreamt she was the sort of woman who had affairs until she met him. Sam Peters had changed everything.

Now, there he stood, all brown eyes, half smile and arrogant self-assurance, looking exactly as he always did, and resentment at all those wasted seconds; of every moment of disappointment when the knock at the door turned out to be another visitor entirely swept over Jo.

Saying nothing, she let him follow her into the cluttered living room. The door safely shut behind them, Sam immediately reached out, twisting Jo at the waist so she faced him, slipping his arms around her, murmuring, ‘So how've you been?' into her neck as he kissed her, his stubble lightly grazing her skin.

His mouth moved to find hers, and Jo's resolve wavered for a moment as she inhaled the aroma of hard work that always hung around him. This was a man continuously in a hurry, rushing from one delivery to another, one quotation session to the next, and the telltale scent of sweat and deodorant lingered around him. Biting down her instant desire, Jo calmly replied, ‘I'm good thanks. You?'

‘Better now.' He led her to the end of her sofa and sat down, indicating for her to sit on his lap. Jo resisted, and remained standing, staring at his shining eyes for a moment, before kneeling and yanking off his grubby white trainers.

All the time she maintained eye contact with Sam, the weeks of neglect her body had felt driving her on. He was studying her in return, openly curious. Usually she'd be naked by now, doing whatever his body demanded of her in the few minutes they had before he had to rush off toward his next appointment.

Forcing herself not to wonder how much time Sam had, and if he was already ticking off the seconds until work required him to leave, Jo, wishing she'd known he was coming so that she wasn't just wearing her tatty jeans and sloppy black jumper, mentally took a deep breath. ‘Take off your trousers and turn round.'

Grinning at her, Sam opened his mouth to speak, about to make a joke about her being in charge for a change, but she placed a finger against his lips. ‘Just do it.' Although his eyebrows raised, displaying the devilish eyes that had first taken her down the road to becoming his mistress, he said nothing, and did as she asked.

‘Good. Now lose the boxers, get on your knees, and lean over the edge of the sofa.' She didn't wait to see if he obeyed, but walked away, climbing the stairs two at a time to retrieve the black canvas bag she kept under her bed, relieved that she'd managed to keep her voice steady and authoritative.

On her return, Jo paused by her desk, her gaze falling on the long plastic ruler she'd been using prior to his arrival to underline boring figures on a boring spreadsheet.

‘Perfect.' She spoke out loud, referring to both the acquisition of the ruler, and the sight of Sam's naked arse bent over the sofa cushions.

Flipping open her bag of sex toys, Jo retrieved her latest purchase, a tiny pink vibrating bullet that had given her an immense amount of pleasure in the months since he'd last been there. Hiding it in her fist, she knelt behind Sam, wrapping her arms around his waist and, just as she'd pictured in her fantasy, slowly slipped her hands down to his rigid dick. Leaning forward so she could whisper in his ear, Jo let her fingers stray between his balls, teasing the hair that surrounded them. ‘I think, young man; that it's high time you were taken in hand.

‘Now I hope you're listening to me, because this is important.' Sam groaned in agreement as she wrapped the fist containing the bullet around his shaft. ‘I try and get on with my life. I
do
live a life, but every day, every fucking day I see signs of you. Reminders of you are just
everywhere
!'

With a sharp flick, Jo activated the bullet, and felt the satisfying reaction of his surprised yelp as she trailed the powerful toy up and down his dick. Abruptly, Jo pulled her bullet away, making Sam moaned with loss for a split second, before she began to glide it back up his body, while her free hand searched out the ruler she'd slid into her bag.

‘I go to the supermarket and I see us buying those trainers you wear ...' SMACK. ‘I walk through the town, and adverts for the company you work for haunt me like bloody ghosts ...' SMACK. ‘I stand in this room and images of you, dressed, naked, gasping as I suck your cock ...' SMACK ‘... drive me to distraction ...'

Sam's only response to this catalogue of crimes was to sigh as his body rippled with lust between the cracks of the ruler and the glorious pressure of the powerful buzzer Jo had pushed inside his T-shirt, letting it tickle his chest hairs.

‘You've changed me. I was so quiet, so very well behaved ...' SMACK. ‘... I would never have dreamt of spanking anyone, of being spanked, of shagging in the open air, of fucking someone else's husband for heaven's sake! You've changed me! You are
everywhere
!'

Clicking the vibrator on to full power while she caught her breath, her chest heaving, Jo was suddenly aware of how fast she'd been talking, and that she'd been virtually shouting. Slamming the bullet against his right nipple, making Sam whine, Jo threw back her arm and hit his arse even harder, turning the pink marks she'd already made red. ‘... And yet I
never
see you. All I get is ghosts. Reminders of where you once stood ...' SMACK. ‘... Of where you once licked me out; of where I stood while you ripped all my clothes off so fast, they were nothing but rags by the time you'd finished with me.' SMACK.

‘And you won't even let me call you on your mobile; I can't even text you. I'm cut off ...' SMACK. ‘... And
I hate it
!'

Her breathing shallow, her throat arid, her arm aching, Jo cursed herself for going too far. Saying too much. She hadn't meant to mention the phone thing. She knew damn well it was risky to use it; her calls and texts were easy to trace, especially as Sam was useless at deleting things properly. He didn't want his wife finding out about them, and neither did she. It wasn't as if she wanted him all to herself or anything; this was just sex. She really didn't want to cause trouble – but for fuck's sake! How can you have any kind of affair with a man you can't contact and rarely see?

Three months of longing to feel his body against hers, his pulse hammering on her skin, was screaming at the back of her head. All the frustration of waiting now seemed to be centred between her legs. Jo knew she'd need some attention of her own soon.

Dropping the ruler, Jo eased the bullet speed down to slow, and ran it back to his balls, while she teased a digit over his anus. Tensing herself for him to be angry with her, for him to explain for the hundredth time why they couldn't keep in touch while he worked away, Jo was surprised when he turned round and buried his face in her neck, his tone subdued, as he murmured, ‘Oh hell, babe, I can't. I ...'

Then something in her lover snapped. Sam threw off his T-shirt, and exhaled deeply, his dick quivering before him, pointing at her accusingly, ‘Look, it's the same for me, all this ghost crap.' He scooped up the ruler, and with an anger born of his own frustration, a frustration Jo hadn't realised he shared, flipped her around, so that before she registered what was happening, their roles had been reversed.

Striking her buttocks through her denim jeans, Sam grunted, and swiftly looped his arms around her waist, undid her button fly, and dragged them to her ankles. Pausing to briefly smooth the black satin underwear he found beneath, he shoved her knickers down to join her trousers, and set about creating a pattern of his own against her pale backside.

‘Yes!' She exhaled her pleasure into the soft sofa fabric as the plastic rebounded off her arse.

Discarding the ruler, Sam lifted his hand high into the air instead. As his skin connected with Jo's flesh, she yelled out in delight and amazement at how he always managed to make her burn with pain, and yet increase her longing for him.

‘The ruler isn't hard enough for you is it. You're such a bad girl.' He aimed again. ‘My bad girl, being spanked by another woman's man. You love it, don't you?' He aimed again, his palm beginning to burn in sympathy with her buttocks, as Jo flushed with shame at the truth of his words. She did love it. It was the only thing she'd ever done wrong in her life, the only time she was ever truly out of control, and she couldn't bear the thought of it ending.

‘Well I'll tell you something, my little bitch.' Their skin connected again, his cruel words fuelling her arousal as much as her beating, ‘You think you're the only one who sees ghosts? I see you all over the fucking place ...' SLAP ‘... I see you in the back of the van, positioned on all fours, begging me to spear you. There are houses that look like your home all over the place ...' SLAP ‘... but only behind your front door do I find you, all moist and waiting, always ready for a sex, always thinking filthy thoughts.'

Slipping a hand between her legs, he began to rub at her clit, smearing her juices into her skin, watching with satisfaction as her hips twitched and rose toward him. As he slammed his palm down on Jo again, her shrieks muted by the cushions, her arms stretched out behind her, she became desperate to grab hold of him, to feel his warm flesh, but she was unable to quite reach as Sam continued in his work.

‘I wank at the images of you in my head every bloody day, and every flipping night I have to sneak out of bed to the bathroom and sort myself out. Sometimes I have to stop the van and yank off in the nearest field or toilets or somewhere, just to have some relief from the thought of what your body does to me.'

Whimpering with the tingling heat of her butt, tears gathering at the corners of her green eyes as the pain accelerated, yet smiling broadly into the cushions as she listened, Jo replied, ‘I'm the same. Why do you think I bought that bullet? I can hardly carry a full-sized bunny dildo around in my handbag, can I?'

Sam laughed, a picture of Jo scuttling off to the toilets halfway through her supermarket shopping, pressing herself against a cubicle door as she thought about him turning him on further. His voice hoarse now, the anger of desire and her failure to understand that her frustration was shared, began to subside. ‘I've been thinking a lot about this phone thing.'

Smacking her one last time, he bent and licked his tongue slowly over the reddening blotches that were blossoming across her arse.

‘I can't have you using my private mobile. It's too risky.' He moved his thumb over her nub, as if to cut off her chance to interrupt him. ‘But how about you becoming a customer?'

Her confusion at his suggestion was morphed into a nerve fluttering sigh as he eased two fingers up inside her snatch, all fleeting thoughts of re-seizing control and punishing him further, of tying him up and making him beg her to come, of forcing him to promise to banish all the ghosts, were forgotten as he pushed her toward climax.

Shoving his free hand up her shirt, Sam manoeuvred her swollen chest from her bra, making Jo cry out with liberation as he rolled her left nipple between firm, squeezing fingers.

‘If you were a customer, your number could be entered on my work phone, and no one would ask why.'

Jo's mouth was too dry to respond; his pinching had moved to her other nipple, and she could feel the muscles in her stomach clench and tighten as the first wave of orgasm gathered within her.

Understanding how near she was, Sam pumped his fingers against Jo's mound, placing his thumb over her clit, and simultaneously kneading her chest. Jo pushed back against him, warm waves of jolting pleasure surging through her, leaving her panting into the furniture.

Only when her body had totally stilled, did Sam move away, lifting a stray red hair from her cheek. Helping Jo to her feet, he stared into her sparkling eyes. ‘I know you don't need a single thing my company has to offer. But we could pretend you do.'

‘How?' Jo already badly wanted this to work, but couldn't see how anyone would believe she needed to bulk order stationery of any sort.

‘You could book me to give you quotes for paper. I could come over and discuss things, and then you could decide against making an order, then you could change your mind and invite me to come and give you a revised quote, and so on. It wouldn't be such a strange thing for you to do; you work from home, after all. Once your number is logged, no one will question it. I have numbers from clients I've not seen in years on the van phone.'

Jo ran a fingernail over his chin, the other playing with the hairs on his chest she loved so much. ‘If it's that damn easy, why didn't you think of it before?'

‘Because I'm an idiot; and because every time I come here, all normal, sensible and rational thoughts go out of my head.'

Jo swept off her remaining clothes and wrapped her arms around him. ‘Sounds a fair answer. You certainly screw my head up – not to mention the rest of me. I was such a good girl until you came along.'

Abruptly Sam picked her up. Looping her legs around his waist, Jo clung on to him, as he roughly thumped her against the nearest wall, driving his dick into her.