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She’d known that he had a dark side to him; probably that’s what had attracted her to him all those years ago. Now it was the evening of their tenth anniversary and she sat, alone by her dressing table, where she’d sat all day, staring at the items on it.

They were his anniversary presents to her, neither of which she really wanted, but he’d made it clear that he expected her to choose between them before she came down and greeted their guests.

It had all came to a head that morning. It had started out well, with her getting up early, and making him breakfast, a breakfast which had ended up forgotten.

When she returned upstairs, her robe open invitingly, her nipples just visible around the edge of the material. They caught the early morning light, sending sparkling shafts around the room. Each of her nipples had been pierced, many years ago, and last anniversary he gave her a pair of jewel studded bars to really set her off. There was a matching set, hidden by the tray she carried, between her thighs.

As she entered the room, she couldn’t but help but notice, that he’d thrown the covers almost completely off, revealing his morning glory, in all its glory. She paused for a moment, reliving the many times she’d been carried away by the feel of him filling her.

Grinning, she placed the tray beside the bed, and moving quietly, she crawled onto the bed, slowly sliding her body along his still sleeping form. She let her breasts, and especially her sensitive nipples, adorned as they were by his jewellery, rub sensuously along his thighs. The feel of his hair against her, sent shivers through her, straight from her nipples, through her breasts and straight to her centre between her thighs.

She could feel herself moistening, partially at the electric thrill of her touching him, partially in anticipation of his member slipping so easily into her. Pausing, she knelt over him, staring down into his sleeping face, watching him, loving how beautiful and relaxed he looked.

She let her hand slip between her thighs, not surprised to feel just how slick the tops of her thighs had become. She let her fingers trail up and down her labia, teasing and playing with the rings that pierced her labia.

He’s mentioned that he loved erotic and exotic piercings many years ago, so one year, as a present to him; she screwed up her courage, and had found a reputable piercer to have them done. She still remembers that woman’s surprise when she insisted on having them all done in one sitting. Apparently most people started with one, and added more over time. Not her, she knew exactly what she wanted. It had driven them crazy that year, all the metal in her flesh, but not being able to touch for several weeks. 

When they had healed, she remembered it as one of their best ever weekends; they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Returning to the moment, she gently spread herself, enjoying the feel of the cool air as it hit her hot sex. The touch of her finger as she just brushed against her hard slit made her shake with excitement.

Taking a gentle but firm grip, she angled him so that his morning erection was pointing straight at her hot and ever so eager pussy. Sighing, she lowered herself, pausing as she felt the tip of his cock start to push her inner walls apart. Savouring every moment, every ridge of his thick head as it speared her; she teased herself, drawing out the moment until she was sitting firmly on him.

Christ it felt good to feel that full. It never ceased to amaze her how he filled her so completely. How it seemed that his cock was made to fit exactly into her pussy. Every time took her, it felt so good.

By now she was rocking her hips forwards and backwards, grinding her hips against his, and slowly, lovingly bringing them towards a crashing climax.

His eyes opened suddenly, and he shouted at her to get off, reinforcing his cry with a massive thrust of his hips, which initially drove him so deep into her, almost brought her to an unexpected orgasm, but had the effect of throwing her off him.

Moving quickly he rolled of the bed before she could quite realise what happened, and stood over her, looking down with a mixed look of desire and revulsion.

As she looked up at him, she realised that somehow he knew. That he knew all about her dalliance with the boy who mowed the lawn. She opened her mouth to explain, then slowly closed it again, realising that she couldn’t explain. How could she?

How could she explain that the look of lust she’d seen in the boys eyes had excited her, and that when she’d flirted with him, he blushed so cutely! As she teased him, it dawned on her that although he so desperately wanted her, he didn’t know what to do. It was delicious, her a married woman seducing the lawn boy. The sex had been hard and heavy, leaving them covered in a sheen of hot sex, it had been so addictive.

And now he knew.

Wordlessly, he turned from her, and went to his bedside drawer. “I was going to give you these later, but now’s a good a time as any” he said, throwing something onto the dresser. And with that, he turned and walked out of the bedroom, pausing to tell her “The next time I see you, I want to see one of these items in your hands”

She lay there, stunned, her emotions running wild, and still with an ache between her thighs. She slowly stood, covering herself with the robe, before going and taking a look at what he’d left her.

The first item was a sheaf of papers, a divorce actually, a divorce that left her with what she’d brought into the marriage, and precious little else. All that was needed was her signature. The other items were more serious, more sinister.

They were four small padlocks, and a bottle of super glue. What the F she thought, her mind trying to make sense of them. With a dawning horror, she realised what they meant. He wanted her to choose between him and her sex. How could she? How could want her to make such a decision?

Now it was time, the guests would be turning up shortly, and she must be ready.

Her fingers gently smoothed out the divorce papers, before curling around the padlocks. Her head held high, she went down stairs to face him.

He was sitting there, the living room, watching old movies of their wedding, their previous anniversaries. He looked up, and she opened her hand to show him the padlocks. He nodded, and made a vague hand motion, indicating that he wanted her to begin fitting them.

She tried one last time to get him to change his mind, to make him realise that if she went through with her chastity, he’d no longer be able to make love to her, that her warm and welcoming pussy, a pussy that he fitted so snugly into would forever be withheld from him. He nodded, agreeing with her, but then chilled her by telling her that there were other ways in which they could make love, and that later that night, after the guests had gone they would.

She swallowed heavily, realising what he meant. Not that she’d ever done it Greek style, after all she wasn’t that kind of girl. Well maybe she hadn’t been, but it was all that her future held for her now.

He stood, offering her the chair, looking impatiently at her, telling her that this was her choice, that there was another option if she didn’t want to go through with it.

With silent tears streaming down her face, she sat in the chair, and spread her legs wide, letting him see exactly what she was about to do. Her fingers fumbled with the existing rings, trying to undo the beads that kept them in place. Finally she had removed the last one. 

The hasp of the padlock felt cold, so very cold as she slipped it through the first pair of piercings, drawing her labia together. She looked at him imploringly, trying to find the words that she was sorry, that she really loved him, after all she’d gone this far, wasn’t this proof enough for him.

Her heart sank as he shook his head. All she could think off was the feel of him that morning, the way he filled her being when she was so full of him. She was amazed to realise that her sex was responding, trying to tell her that it wanted, no needed to feel his cock inside her, fulfilling her. It wasn’t too late, there could be others, it seemed to be trying to tell her.

She almost relented, was about to change her mind when she felt her fingers press a little too hard. There was a terrifyingly loud click, and she realised that she’d made her decision. After that first one, the rest were easier to fit, to close her for the last time. 

As she sat there, her labia pressed tightly together, she was surprised to find that she was more turned on than she’d ever been, than she could ever remember. Her mind was racing, chasing thoughts around and around, telling herself that she’d felt her last cock, that she’d never feel one again, but a tiny part of her relished that knowledge, relished the need that would never be satisfied. 

Maybe he did know her best after all. Now that she couldn’t have it, it was all she wanted. Her entire body seemed on fire, every nerve sang out. Slowly it dawned on her that now that her sex was off limits, just how turned on she was. Maybe, just maybe taking him in her ass would be enough to sate the burning desire she now felt, centred on her locked sex. 

He pulled her to her feet, and gave her a brief hug, before sending swatting her on her ass, sending her to get changed. That swat sent shivers through her, as the padlocks swayed slightly, pulling on her.

As she walked up the stairs, she could feel them, pulling, tugging on her most intimate flesh. Walking would never be the same, she thought, surprised by how her closed labia pressed against her clit.

Once upstairs, she took a moment to explore her new adornments, and was frustrated to find that one of the locks passed right over her clit. Her labia were so tightly closed she could barely fit a finger between them, and then to find that she couldn’t get the right angle to easily bring herself pleasure. It wasn’t fair! She was so turned on, and unable to do anything about it, at least at the moment. Maybe if she had more time, she could work something out, some way that she could toy with herself. 

That evening went by in a haze, she barely responded to their guests, her mind was focused between her thighs, and the feelings her body was generating. Every time she moved, she could feel the locks sway backwards and forwards, pulling on her, teasing her. She was so turned on, she was surprised that no one reacted to the raw scent of desire she was giving off, or maybe they were just too polite.

There was one moment of extreme embarrassment, when they sat down to dinner. She hadn’t considered the chair and was mortified when, as she sat, the locks bumped against the frame with a loud “clunk!” She could feel her cheeks colouring, but a hasty glance around showed that no one paid too much attention to the sound.

Eventually the evening was over, the last guests had gone home, and just the pair of them were left. “Ready?” he asked, as he took her by the hands and led her upstairs. He was surprisingly gentle, loving even, especially when compared how he’d been earlier.

She couldn’t decide was he being exceptionally cruel, or loving when they ended up in bed. He started by making the usual moves, the ones that ten years of marriage had honed. His touch, his mouth, his fingers visited every part of her, arousing and stimulating her. It was so frustrating! She knew that she was so very turned on, so desperate to feel him take her, but every time he let his fingers explore her now locked pussy, they reminded her afresh that he wasn’t ever going to slip into her again. The feel of his fingertips as they traced the edges of her closed labia was such exquisite torture. She could feel them swell even more, pressing harder and harder against each other, and against her trapped clit.

Eventually the time she dreaded arrived, and he rolled her over, exposing her ass to the cool night air. She lay there, not knowing quite what to expect from this first time. She let out a little gasp, as she felt something cold drip between her cheeks. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as he covered his erection with baby oil, making it glisten in the moonlight.

“Just relax” he said, as she felt his weight shift, and then in was time. She could feel the tip of him pressing against her virgin ass. She tried to relax, but it was difficult to, she was so unused to this. She felt her ass relax slightly, as the tip of his head slipped into her, opening her up to him. He paused, letting her get used to the full feeling, before pressing again, letting a bit more of him slip into her.

She was pleased that he was taking it slowly this first time, giving her time to adjust, to accept the feel of his cock in her ass. It was different, very different, not at all like being made love to. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, but it was all that she was going to experience from now on, she thought.

She had been so lost in trying to work out her feelings; she was surprised to feel his thighs against hers, his hot breath on the nape of her neck. He rotated his hips, making his cock move deep in her. She could tell from his breathing that he loved this, that he was so very turned on. She could feel the weight of his balls as they pressed against her closed labia, stimulating them again.

As he started to slowly thrust, each one slightly harder than the one before, she realised that his weight was pressing her against the locks. She shuddered, when on one deep thrust he pressed hard enough against her, so that the hasp of the lock over her clit pressed against it, rubbing her hard, sensitive clit with the now warm metal.

When he slowed, took it gently, there wasn’t quite enough pressure. It dawned on her that if she wanted to cum, he’d have to take her hard and fast, that slow, loving sex wouldn’t be enough.

She cried out, asking, begging, demanding that he take her ass hard and fast, that she needed him to take her as hard as he could. As he thrust harder, deeper, she could feel the clasp hitting her clit, arousing her, bringing her nearer and nearer to an unexpected orgasm. 

With a roar, he buried his cock as deep into her ass as he could get it. She could feel his cock pulsing as it pumped his cum into her ass. This last thrust was just enough to send her over the edge of her own orgasm, and she felt herself shudder at the force of it. As his hot cum filled her ass, her ass was tightening and relaxing, trying to milk all of his cum out of him. She could feel her pussy contracting, trying to grip the cock that wasn’t there. She could feel her juices dripping from the join of her labia, dampening the sheets.

After, as he held her tightly in her arms, she realised that this time she was lucky to orgasm, that if he’d had her on her knees, or worse, on her back, then she wouldn’t get the right stimulation. She’d get enough to turn her on, but not enough to make it. She realised that she’d be pretty horny from now on, the locks a constant reminder of both her anniversary and her indiscretion, but at least she “could” cum, if only infrequently.




