She's so fucking beautiful, amber eyes wild as she struggles naked on her marital bed against the silk scarf that secures her wrists. Her breath snorts hot against the hand I've clamped across her mouth, the phone in my other.

The call connects. "Oh hi, this is Leah's... husband." I flick my gaze down to meet hers, flashing with anger. "Sorry to bother you so early, but she won't be coming into work today." I listen a moment. "Oh no, she's just-" I'd love to say something sassy like tied up but daren't raise any suspicion, "-not feeling well and I need to look after her."

Stroking a few stray wisps of bronzed hair behind her ear, I watch her watching me. Seems she can barely believe I'm tarnishing her 'good girl' image with the lie to her boss. I'm the only person in the world that knows she's anything but.

"Yes," I continue, "I'm sure she'll feel much better later and will be back next week." I nod and smile, the ploy approved. "No problem. Enjoy your weekend."

I cut the connection and observe Leah, the daggers in her eyes unable to mask her sheer want. Her nakedness is amplified by my smart casual.

Besides her laboured breathing the room is peaceful, burgeoning summer heat kept at bay by the gently wafting curtains. Reading lights clipped to the metal uprights of the headboard are angled inward, casting her in an off-white lustre.

We’d already fucked this morning. And the night before. My come was still inside her when she woke me by straddling my head, using my face to satisfy the primal urge that had roused her from sleep.

When she shuddered and came over me, I'd rolled her over and hammered into her, adding this morning's pleasure to last night's creamy mess between her thighs.

Somewhat naively, I thought it would sate us. But that was before. Before she'd lain there, tits to die for, teasing fingers inside herself, releasing some of the creamy residue. Before I bent to kiss her goodbye and caught the scent of her. Of us. Before her fingers teasingly grazed my erection.

I’d snapped, grabbed her wrists, wrestled her into the bonds and made the call.

She catches my eye. "I can't believe you did that. He's back today." The worry seems genuine.

I'm already imagining how far out of her mind the prospect of being caught by her husband will drive her.

"Maybe you shouldn't be such a teasing little slut then."

Her jaw drops.

"You're fucking mine now, Leah. If I'm not done with you before he comes home, you'll only have yourself to blame."

I track my fingers across her jawline, down to her throat and play the tips there. Panic and arousal war inside her, the emotions painting her symmetrical features with exquisite desperation.

Nodding at her hands, I command: "Over your head."

She complies, stretching tied wrists to the headboard. Smiling, I drift my touches inward, walking fingertips to ascend the side of a breast and down between them. Stepping up and across the other, I allow my trailing digit to catch its peak with the tiniest brush and smirk at her gasp.

Her terrain is not so different from my wife. Just as soft. Just as sexy. Maybe a little tauter where the yoga has toned and sculpted curves to perfection. But the surface is where the similarities end. It's Leah's mind that excites me beyond compare. Her passion. Her trust. The blazing furnace raging inside her shuddering body that manifests itself in the smouldering intensity of her gaze upon mine.

My wife would baulk at the mere notion of giving me carte blanche over her body, let alone allowing me to restrain her, trusting me to give her what she needs… to take what I need. But Leah? Well…

Circling her shallow tummy button, I work the finger loops larger with each rotation, spiralling until I'm grazing her mons. Her expression tightens as the anticipation infects her.

My voice is low, almost a growl as I trace flesh I'd shaved bare the night before.

"Your pussy's so fucking tasty. But," I cock my head to one side, "when I grabbed the scarf, you know what else I spotted?"

She says nothing.

Removing my hand from her body, I lean across and rummage in the bedside drawer to retrieve her vibrator, studying its shiny smooth shell as she tenses, cheeks flushing.

"I can only imagine the pleasure this has seen."

Floating it to my mouth, I part my lips and slither the phallus inside. It returns wet. I flick the switch and drift the glistening tip to her tummy, hovering so she can feel its vibrations. I dab her and she convulses. I do it again, slightly lower and watch her struggle to keep her hands against the pillow.

The point slips into her belly button for a split second and I draw it away, close enough to still be felt. I methodically skim the surface of her body with the featureless silver device, upward like a metal detector, tracing her contours slowly, ever so slowly until I reach the swell of her chest.

I let the vibrator ascend, creeping until it's poised above an erect nipple, which I swear lengthens. Her body writhes for the touch I dangle out of reach.

Just.

My eyes find hers again. Alive. Yearning for everything. Anything. I let gravity do its job, the vibrator bouncing off the sensitive nipple to return to its hover state in my grasp. Her sharp inhalation makes me twitch in my underwear.

I watch her lips part, wider with every shrinking millimetre of distance as I slip the device to her marshmallow cap. The power is intoxicating.

Her eyes drift closed when I make contact and roll the humming tip around the electrified nipple. She moans.

"Ohhh, God."

With my free hand, I cup her other breast, squeeze the flesh to a point and pinch the base of its tip between thumb and forefinger as I continue to play the toy over her opposite peak.

Leah wriggles beneath me, eyes squeezed shut until I land the vibrator directly on the cap between my fingertips. Her frame jolts taut for a moment, eyes snapping open. I harden fully and let go; skate the device all the way up the edge of her body to her shoulder, then roll inward. Every part of her it skims lights up. Neck. Jaw. Mouth, into which I allow it to slide, letting her hungrily wet the surface. Possessed, she moans around it.

When I withdraw, she snaps impatiently for it. I deny her the satisfaction, trailing it across her chin and over the edge. Her reaction to the throb is thrilling as I crawl it down her throat and scull the slope of one breast, then flash the glistening, pulsing shaft across each nipple.

It's a struggle to keep my composure. Previously automatic tasks such as breathing suddenly require effort. My focus is solely her pleasure, directly connected to the straining bulge beneath my trousers.

Her breath draws deep into her lungs as I approach her core. The anticipation is beautiful; her disappointment palpable when I thumb the switch and let the dormant toy thump to the bed.

She hisses. "Bastard."

Her complaint doesn't last long. My hands, firm on her hips, roll her onto her stomach, arms still outstretched, before I coast the fingertips of one hand to her lower back and work upwards. Inch by glorious inch, I barely touch. Just breeze over the soft hairs that stand on end, creeping higher until I reach her ticklish spot.

I concentrate there. Fuck, watching her contort in blissful agony is amazing, rocking side to side, trying to free her bound wrists long after I end the torturous touches.

I let her calm. Just watch from alongside the bed before climbing on.

Parting her thighs and kneeling between them, my trousers swish against her naked flesh as I slide my hands up her back to curl one into her mane of hair and tug. She obediently rises to her knees and elbows for me, back curved, arse up. Fucking perfection.

Picking up the vibrator again, I switch it on and hold it upright from the pillow, watching her open mouth ease onto its quivering surface. As she sucks and wets the tip against her tongue I sweep my free hand from her shoulders down her back to that delicious, curvy bottom. Massaging the flesh in languorous circles, I tug each cheek up and out, catching fleeting glimpses of the tantalising knot between.

Need wells to take her, gnawing at me.

Drawing the phallus from her mouth, I trail its wet tip up across a cheek to her neck, then along her spine, vertebra by vertebra, until I reach the cleft of her bottom.

Her breathy, "No," is loaded with contradictory desire.

I angle the humming device, pressing it between her cheeks, gentle pressure against the bundle of nerve endings. Her deep gasp lets me know I've hit the perfect spot, each millimetre that penetrates her arse amplifying her lust. Her body flushes and squirms.

So fucking gorgeous. I almost lose it once more. Pause. Calm. Lower my mouth to her ear, letting her feel me there before growling, "You like that?"

She nods, face turned against the pillow, biting her lower lip.

"Does he ever do this to you?"

She shakes her head. "You're my first."

"First?" I scoff.

She exhales. "Only."

My reflected breath from her ear is hot. "Imagine it's my cock inside you, Leah. Easing in. Picking up pace. Fucking your tight arse while you're restrained." I pause to let the imagery sink in. "That excites you, doesn't it? To act like a dirty slut. Just for me."

Her swift nod is electric. I sit up, switch off the vibrator and ease it from her. Leah emits a huge groan.

I smirk. "You'll just have to wait. You've been very naughty taking a sick day from work solely to fuck. And you know what naughty girls get."

I place my hands on her bottom and swirl the flesh. Mould it. Knead. Prepare her, easing the blood vessels to the surface. Both orbs turn a rosier pink with each revolution before my hands leave her flinching muscles.

I wait.

Raised.

Poised.

The swish of one hand disturbs the air a split second before it lands with a satisfying slap. I'm in no mood to hold back and the warmth that spreads through her bottom beneath my handprint reflects that. She cries out against the pillow as the heat dissipates and I soothe her globe.

I barely give her time to recover before the next spank tears into her. Same place; the succulent lower half, just above her thigh, flesh distorting, bouncing then settling. I can almost sense the heat rippling, converging around her clit, out of reach of her flexing fingers.

Rubbing, I spread her a little, swelling even more at the sight of her fleetingly exposed crease. I raise the other hand. Wait, enjoying the way her flesh writhes at the expectancy.

I strike.

That one stings. I know as she howls and bites her lip again that it's going to leave a mark. My hand swirls once more, relieving some of the bittersweet fire, but not enough. As I raise my hand, I notice the satisfying pink glow has grown.

"Spread your knees."

She complies, parting them just before I let loose another crack to the lower curve of her bottom, catching the top of her thigh as she arches forward and cries out.

I focus on her bare pussy lips. A lone drip of pearly moisture surfaces and drizzles towards the mattress on a silvery thread. Scooping it on a fingertip, I lift to taste, my senses igniting.

"Delicious, but you can do better." My hand raises, swishes, lands hard and she lets out a muted yelp into the pillow.

When a larger droplet forms at her entrance, I run my finger to collect it then drag my digit up into the crack of her bottom, smearing wetness with it. I soothe her cheeks with massaging hands, spreading her wide, just gazing at her inviting, glistening rear.

Bending, I place my nose in her crack, inhale, surge and run my tongue from the base of her pussy, slowly swabbing north into her crease and swirling juices around the forbidden entrance.

"That's better, Leah. Fucking delicious." She squirms as I dive back for more nectar, spreading, swabbing, tasting her arousal. "Fuck, you turn me on," I snarl.

Her face swishes against the pillow, moaning at my tongue pressure. Sometimes light, sometimes hard enough to penetrate her. My fingers dig into her bum, holding her wide as I spit directly onto her ring and use my tongue to work the moisture inside her impossibly tight hole. She bucks against me until I finally relent and with one long lick continue up her back, kissing and nibbling until I reach to scoop her hair aside and bite her neck. Her juices eddy in the space between us.

Under her breath, I hear whispers. Almost incantations. "Fuck me. Fuck me. God, please fuck me."

"What's that?"

"Please," she breathes, louder, "Fuck me."

"Where?"

The desperation is evident. "Here. Now."

"WHERE?" My finger drifts all the way down her back and grazes her knot.

She exhales noisily. Bites her lip. "Fuck!" Then so softly I can barely hear her, adds, "Anywhere. I'm yours."

I sit up, tension skyrocketing when I unbuckle my trousers and free my solid cock. I stroke it and smear pre-come over the head. So fucking hard.

Shoving her forward into the bed, I cover her body with mine. The heat from me, so close, sets her breathing on edge. I kiss and nibble her neck, stubble scuffing as my cock hovers, inches from either entrance.

"Mmmm," I purr. "Which hole shall I take, Leah? Which do you think you deserve for lying about taking the day off?"

She tenses.

My breath in her ear is almost as ragged as hers and she twists her face to gaze up into my eyes, raw hunger behind them. The dull tip of my cock lewdly paints pre-come from hole to hole.

Without warning, I surge forward, splitting her pussy lips and she groans. God, she's so fucking wet. I exhale as she adjusts, then draw back against her selfish, clutching walls. Pulling out completely, I pause a moment then drive back in fully, spreading her slick tunnel.

Leah arches her hips to meet my thrusts, each momentarily pinning her to the bed. She adores being claimed this way, panting and groaning as I repeatedly fill her with thick cock.

Resting on my elbows, I worm one hand under her prone form to grip her throat. The other zeroes on her aching clit, circling firmly. She cries out, grinding a furious rhythm, up against me then down onto my insistent fingers.

Sensing her end, I slam into her, my orgasm seconds away. As heat swamps us, she stiffens, the pressure overwhelming, and I'm treated to her cunt pulsing around my invading girth. She chants my name between gasps and, fuck, that's all I can take. I freeze as my balls tighten and come surges, erupting inside her spasming channel, my fingers crushed between her sensitive pearl and the mattress.

I savour the immediate afterglow that seems to stretch indefinitely, my voice breathless in her ear. "Fuck, you're so beautiful undone."

We don't move. Joined. Drifting. Unwinding, the paucity of our time together temporarily forgotten as I kiss her cheek and whisper how much I love her. How much I crave to explore uncharted boundaries that our chosen life paths have left unfulfilled.

With each passing minute, her heart rate slows beneath mine until I roll away, pulling her face-up, dipping to brush her lips, basking in our feverish connectedness. I stroke her hair. Taste the heat behind the kiss, our tongues duelling at first, then lazy, her arousal once more drifting between us.

As our lips ease apart, she smiles. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of the clock on the bedside table. "I should get going. No rest for the wicked."

Sliding off the bed, I pace away and zip myself up, only looking back when she utters a theatrical, "Ahem." She shakes her wrists towards me.

I fix her a contemplative gaze, her panic rising as I bite my lower lip. "I suppose I could let you go." She relaxes as I approach. "In an hour or so..."

Her face pales and she thrashes on the bed as I grab a second scarf from the drawer and drag her arms back over her head. "What? Fuck. No! What if he comes back?" she pleads and wriggles but, I notice with an inward smile, doesn't use the safe word. I loop the scarves together and lash the second to the bedpost.

"There. I should be back before him. I'll take your keys."

"Hey!"

She struggles as I grin. "Think hot thoughts, Leah. I'll clean up our mess with my tongue soon enough."

I pace across the room and turn to watch her twisting for a moment, already looking forward to the deliciously wet and horny effect her panicked desire will have when I return. Her protests fade as I step out, descend the stairs, grab her keys from the rack and slam the door behind me.

We both drew our lines in the sand from the start. Everything since has eroded them. Time. Lust. Danger. Love. We've already pushed every other boundary. What's one more?

As I blip the lock, climb in my car and gun the engine, I pause. Maybe one day, we'll push too far. Seems we always need another thrill, like addicts upping their dose. I genuinely don't know what will happen if we cross an irrevocable line. It's scary. Electrifying.

But maybe that's why we keep pushing.