Archive-name: Affairs/upstairs.txt

Archive-author: Major Havoc    (c) 1989

Archive-title: Upstairs





    My wife was out of town for the week, which left me without

much to do besides watching TV or catching the basketball games

on the radio.  So when rush hour hit, I headed to a nearby bar and

sat at the rail to check out the traffic, ordering a gin and tonic

to pass the time.  It was an upscale crowd - yuppies, business men

like myself, you know the type.



    As I swiveled my barstool around, getting a quick 360 of the

clientele, I realized there was a woman sitting next to me.  A good-

looking brunette in a well tailored business suit.  And unless I was

very much mistaken, she had been giving me the eye.



    I turned around, and she was there all right, looking at me with

an expression I couldn't quite fathom.  "Rough day?," she asked, and

I relaxed and moved into the "office work" routine with half my mind

while the other half tried to figure what she was looking for.  She

was friendly enough, and I tuned back into our discussion just in

time to hear myself recommend a little Chinese place for dinner.



    We ate at Yank Soo's in one of the booths overlooking the river.

Separate checks, of course.,  She told me about life in the field of

accounting and how hard it was for a woman to get ahead in a male-

dominated area.  We talked about college and career, and found a

mutual interest in old jazz.  Turns out she had some early Blue Note

disks I had been looking for for years, so I asked about taping them

for my collection and she invited me to come over and give them a

listen first.



    Her "little place" was a Victorian brownstone in one of the more

expensive neighborhoods.  I pulled into the second bay of the two-car

garage since it looked like rain.  She showed me into the music room

as she went to fix something to drink.  I was impressed - her jazz

collection was something incredible, from rare Bird to just about

every Monk album ever released.  I found the records we had discussed

and put one on the turntable, then sat on the couch and listened.

Cool, sweet, jazz - I closed my eyes and drank in the sound.  At some

point in the first track she put a drink in my hand, and I sipped as

I listened.



    The first track ended, and I opened my eyes to see her beside me

on the couch.  Somehow, taking her in my arms was the easiest thing

to do, and when the second track began we just naturally rose to

start dancing.  Her hands drifted down to the base of my spine, and

I became aware of the points of her breasts through the silk blouse

she wore.  We turned so she was dancing with her back to me, moving

her hips back into mine.  I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh

as she leaned into me.  She turned around, and as our dance went

on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it and my jacket.  Next

to go was her jacket and blouse, and we danced through the next

solo with her hands inside the back of my pants.



    "Come upstairs," she breathed, running one hand between my

legs, and I didn't have the will to resist her.  She unfastened

my pants there in the music room, leaving me in shorts alone,

took off her bra, and kissed me long and deep, my hands roaming

over her back and down farther.  She led me up the stairs, one

hand in my shorts, and opened the door to her bedroom.  There was

a large bed there, a music system equal to the one downstairs,

and a low metal Sixties-style bench with a fur seat by a curtained

wall.  She asked me to sit on the bench, and as the music from

downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring her nipples

into proud erection.  "Kiss me," she said, offering a ripe tit,

and I copperated, drawing it into my mouth with lips and tongue.

"Harder," she moaned, and I used my teeth and tongue, feeling it

become stiff and swollen.  She pulled away, then offered the other

breast for the same treatment.  Shen she pulled away this time,

her face - indeed her whole upper body - was flushed.  She beckoned

with one finger, and I came to her to slip her skirt off, revealing

a black pair of crotchless panties.  I slipped a finger between her

thighs, finding that she was already warm and wet.



    She asked me to turn around, so I did so, facing the bench and

wall as she draged my shorts down, my penis spring free to smack

audibly against my belly.  I felt her hands move down my legs, and

then a clicking sound.  I looked down to realize that she had just

fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around my ankles and snapped them

to the bottom legs of the bench.  She pushed me forward, and as I

fell she grabbed one arm, then the other, fastening them similarly

to the other end.  I began to appreciate the design of the bench

in a different light now.  The seat of the bench ran from just

below my neck to just above my waist, then the bench legs went out

at an angle, leaving me open to the air from the belly button to

mid-thigh.  I couldn't see what she was doing, but I could still

smell her private aroma, and that maintained my flagging erection.



    She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my head so I could

see the slit in her panties and smell the juices that were already

gathered there.  As she slid forward, I stretched my tongue out to

meet her, finding her hot and wet inside.  She gripped my head as

I kissed and licked, and ran trails with her nails around my ears,

the back of my neck, my armpits, each nail leaving a trace I could

feel as clearly as reading a map.  I felt something toying with the

head of my penis -- she had stretched her legs and gripped me with

her toes.  Now she pulled slightly away from my face, and I had to

stretch my head and tongue to reach her, as she braced her hands on

my shoulders and began working me with her feet.  I could not hold

off, but as I began to shoot I felt her begin her own spasms around

my tongue.



    She bent her knee, bringing one foot onto the stool, her toes

between my face and her pussy.  "Suck," she commanded, and despite

some misgivings I did, mingling the acrid taste of my own fluid with

the heavy smell of her juices.  She buried my face inside her pussy

again, and I licked and nibbled until she was satisfied.  She arose,

moving to my nether end, and I heard a buzzing sound, then felt a

vibrator moving over my thighs, between my legs, between my cheeks.

She parted my cheeks and I felt her finger work its way into the

opening there, moving in and out until I relaxed.  Then her finger

was replaced by something thicker that went in until my muscles

clamped around a narrow portion.  She ran the vibrator over the end

of the plug, and the sensation was so intense, that to my surprise

I found myself becoming erect again.



    She unhooked the cuffs from the bench, and helped me to stand

erect, taking me in a full body kiss, tongues fighting for space,

then sliding slowly down my body to taste and tease my nipples as

I cupped and squeezed her full breasts.  Each move I made caused the

plug to wiggle, making my erection bob and jerk against her.  "Poor

baby, we've been neglecting you," she said, and sank to her knees

to engulf me in the moist cavern of her mouth.  I closed my eyes and

stroked her fine hair as her tongue and lips worked their magic on

me, all the while her fingers were pinching, caressing and stroking

my thighs, cheeks, genitals.  My breath was coming ragged as she

held me on the edge of erupting.



    She pulled away, holding me in her hand as she led me to a

curtained wall, then drew the curtain aside to reveal a large metal

frame with D-rings at the corners.  She backed me up and attached

my feet to the corners, spreading my legs to do so, then kissed and

licked her way up my body, finally lifting my arms and hooking their

cuffs to the top corners of the frame.  By now she was riding on top

of me, rubbing her labia around my aching member, her breasts hot

against my chest.



    She moved her head down to kiss and worry my nipple, then made

me gasp as she clipped something to it.  She repeated the treatment

on my other nipple, then slid down and wrapped her breasts around

my erection, bring it up harder (if possible).  Now she attached

some sort of clamp to the skin just below the head, with a weight

attached to the clamp.  The weight magnified every movement I make.

As she stepped away from the frame, my attention wavered between the

growing pain at my nipples, the constant reminder of the anal plug,

and the self-jerking action of my cock.  Her face was radiant as she

watched me quiver.



    She asked me, "What would you like first?," but I could not

give her an answer.  Remove the clips?  Take me into her mouth?

Unhook my arms?  She chuckled at my indecision, then went to the

side of the frame, unhooked a bar, and swung the frame out, now

perpendicular to the wall.  "You'll like this, I think" she said,

scraping her nails up my ass cheeks, wiggling the plug to draw a

low moan from me.  She took the weight and fastened it to the anal

plug, so every motion I made was now reflected.



    I heard her step away, then I could not hear her at all.  My

nipples felt on fire, and all the squirming I could manage in that

frame would not budge them.  But all that movement did shake the

weight and move the plug, making my aching erection harder.  Where

did she go?   I began to worry how long she was going to leave me

and finally yelled "Hello?  Where are you?"  I got my answer as my

ass exploded in pain.  Whack! Whack!  She had re-entered the room

quietly and now was strapping my ass.  I cried out from the shock,

her only response more laughter.  Every jolt of the strap seemed

to run from the base of my ass cheeks to the head of my erection.



    When she finally stopped the spanking, I thanked her in relief,

asking what she wanted from me.  "Aren't you enjoying yourself?,"

she answered, "Oh, silly me, you have all these tight muscles that

need to be loosened."  She began stroking my ass, her palms cool

relief against my abused flesh.  She started moving the anal plug

in and out, fucking my ass with it while the attached weight pulled

my cock up and down in return.  The sensations finally overwhelmed

me, and without her ever touching my cock directly I came, long and

hard, in spasm after spasm, her fingers continuing to move until I

was slumped boneless in the frame.  I barely whimpered at the pain

when she removed the clips, then released me from the frame.



    Eventually I gathered the strength to get dressed - she had done

so already and had coffee brewing down in the kitchen.  We shared a

cup together in silence.  As I got up to leave, she said "We really

must get together again."  The thought was tempting, but thinking

of my wife, I declined.  "No, I really think we must" she said more

firmly, and handed me a photograph.



    I hadn't noticed a camera at the time, but the photograph was

clearly recognizable as me, naked in the frame, nipples clipped,

face locked in a rictus of pleasure, strands of semen flying in

the air.  "I have your number," she said as I left.



    I think she does.



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