Mr. Norton From Next Door Ch. 04

All Fours

Norton’s wife had attractive but hard features although they were of the sort many men find sexually arousing. She didn’t speak at first but stared at me with a smirk that said ‘I’m going to dominate you’. Well there was nothing I could do to prevent that! Stood, stained and almost naked, my wrists shackled, arms outstretched I was helpless. For a split second I toyed with the idea of screaming out — maybe the neighbours would hear me. Sure they would — they were standing in the room!

So what was there left for me to do other than watch the actions of Mrs Norton as she undid her dressing gown, waiting with glee, knowing for certain that when I saw what she wore underneath I would scream and shriek, and beg that they desist from whatever dirty deeds they had in mind.

The garment worn about her chest (if it deserved such a description), was more of a leather support sling than bra, holding up her quite amazing paps, the nipples erect and prominent; scaffolding for her breasts. Around her midriff was a contraption I had once seen before — well, in a photograph anyway. I remembered the very day.

“You ought to get one of those!” my husband had said.

The harness was designed so it could take a variety of dildo’s, big rubber cocks; swap them around, as was your want.

Brian had left me shocked when he leaned over to whisper to me. “Then you will be able to fuck me instead of me fucking you!”

I was so astounded that I couldn’t wait to tell my friend Brenda, knowing that we both would have a good giggle and maybe even collapse in fits of bawdy laughter; though she left me even more gobsmacked!

“He’s right, you should get one. Some of those dildo’s are double ended you know.” Brenda face was deadly serious. She ended the sentence speaking slowly emphasising her words to make sure I really heard. “You could use it on me too — we could fuck each other.”

The images stayed with me for a long time – not unpleasant memories though.

Now here was the wife of my neighbour, casting off her dressing gown — did she intend fucking me? Who else was there? She was already walking toward me wearing that silly smirk, pointing her nipples at me. I laughed cynically to hide my fear. Mrs N grabbed the hair at the back of my head and scowled, before forcing my face forward so my lips touched hers. She was kissing me now; her hand was feeling between my legs, a finger examined my wet cunt. I could feel her tits rub against mine.

Mrs N is able to go from dominant to submissive at the flick of switch. I know that because she has dropped to her knees and is doing something very dirty — she is licking up the mixture of juices that seep out of my well-fucked pussy. Her husband likes to see this — now I have the chance to get a good look at his big penis as he stands watching, wanking. I wonder if Mrs N likes to do this or is she forced to act like this, suffer at his hands – suffer the whip?

My goodness, I can’t help but move my hips, wriggle my groin. My word — she’s good! How does that tongue manage to get there?

“You have had an interesting evening,” observes Norton dryly.

I feel brave and confident. “And it seems it’s far from over!” I say spreading my thighs to allow better entry of Mrs Norton’s expert tongue.

“You are a very dirty and depraved woman, not at all the respectable housewife you make out to be.”

I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to the old man’s verbal shit.

“That’s why you like me you dirty old twisted pervert!” I said harshly, “That’s how you like me!”

For my show of disrespect I received several stinging lashes across my arse cheeks; delivered via a tawse the old man had secreted beneath his gown. True, I had also let rip another cynical cackle of a laugh when the man cast off his gown completely and paced toward me with his dick bobbing up and down — how comical he looked!

If I had ever wondered just what those stale man- juices tasted like then my curiosity was about to be satisfied. Mrs N had stood up and ignoring how I sobbed over my sore stinging arse forced me again to kiss her lips, passing some of the jism she had sucked up from her mouth to mine.

“Suck my nipples!” she then ordered.

I obeyed — and she played with mine.

What, meanwhile, was that silly little old man doing for goodness sake — I could hear him pacing around?

Finally becoming bored (though she appreciated the trouble I took to do the job properly, biting and alternately licking and sucking) Mrs Norton stepped away. Now I could see what was going to come next as the old man handed over a large rubber curved sex toy to his wife. With all the time in the world (well I still wasn’t going anywhere) she eased one end of the penis fashioned implement inside her cunt and adopted a dominant stance in front of me wearing that evil grin. Mrs N had come out of her submissive ‘lick that dirty cunt’ mode.

“I’m going to fuck you!” she said.

I was not going to break down and remained passive as she positioned her body tekirdağ escort entering me, thrusting her groin forward and cruelly squeezed and raking my nipples as she looked in the eye. Old Norton was not amused by my inactivity and encouraged my hips to move by swinging the three-pronged tawse sharply and regularly across my backside. I cried out and begged for him to show mercy — which pleased, and excited, his good wife.

The latex penis that invaded my body amply filled my sex hole. Though the lash intermittently snapped across the tender burning skin of my buttocks I maintained a defiant stare that looked deep into Mrs Norton’s very soul. I felt the softness of the woman’s breasts press against my own, stimulating my nipples. Each time she thrust forward I detected the faint trace of a satisfied smile. Our eyes were locked together but without strain, our mouths were moving sensuously between expressing our delight at the experience of delectable sexual joy and a tongue wiping desire for our lips to make contact. It was an understatement to say that we were both turned on, both amazingly aroused.

Mr Norton, for reasons known only to he, suddenly decided his wife’s backside too needed to be chastised and, whilst wanking his cock with one hand alternated the direction of the short whip, east to west, first striking my arse then the well-rounded bottom of his good lady. Our tongues met, drawing together our salivating mouths to join together in the most sexually exhilarating of kisses. Whilst both Mrs Norton and I seemed to be reduced to groaning banshees, enjoying in equal amount the pleasure and the pain, the woman nevertheless gained a measure of extra ecstatic bliss from cruelly squeezing and pinching my tender nipples, causing me to suddenly arch my back, and thereby thrust forward against the rubber dick. That was a motion that in turn increased my own depraved pleasure as it excited my clitoris even more.

When I was suddenly released from my restraints I felt too weak to worry about what might come next and disappointed that the latex cock was no longer filling my hole I sighed before the couple supported my body as I sank to my knees by the couch. Mrs N quickly sat back in the soft upholstery spreading her legs wide, lifting her feet and forcing my face into her wide-open red juicy cunt, commanding me to lick and suck. A sharp command and a slap made me higher my backside shifting to a kneeling position, expecting the feel of the whip.

One, two, three, the whacks came hard across my smarting arse making my butt contract and tighten then relax again but when I counted four it was not the stinging lash that made me recoil but the sensation of penis unexpectedly penetrating anus. True, I was still lubricated from the last invasion though that didn’t prevent me from yelling out loud — only for my outburst to be smothered by the woman who pressed my face hard against her quim.

It came as a shock for me — Mr Norton from next door was finally fucking me — I had wondered how that might feel — but I had never expected it to be up my arse with his wife present holding me firmly in place, my face pressed against her cunt, enjoying the experience as much as he!

Two minutes later the woman dribbled into my mouth as her husband filled my back passage with his sperm; and two minutes after that, they were gone, leaving me sprawled out on the floor. I had, throughout that evening of terrible sexual assault and cruel torture experienced several unbelievably ecstatic orgasms.

The following morning, worn out and mentally paralysed I spent an hour huddled over hot cups of coffee constantly attempting to banish the many images that flashed through my mind’s eye. It was gone eleven before I was able to lift the phone and speak to Brenda, but what could I tell her? Certainly I didn’t want to mention how I let two strange men actually come into my house or relate what liberties they managed to perform on me. Neither did I want to confess that I had given my arsehole up to the strange old man from next door — the one we often ridiculed and pitied for his oddness. How would it sound if I said, “Old Norton whipped and fucked me last night”? “Oh and also his wife came round and we both enjoyed a shag with a double ended dildo — and he whipped her too!”

Well, I phoned Brenda though it wasn’t long before I broke down and blubbered and blabbed.

“What the f….” Brenda was never one for showing sympathy, “Look — I know you saw me in the club yard — and I certainly saw you. It happened, you have enjoyed a fuck with another man — or should I say men — you wanted to be adventurous, and you have been; you’ll just have to learn to live with it. You’re a dirty sex mad little bitch girl — just like me!”

Her humour didn’t ease me. “Now you look,” I snapped, “It’s more than that! I know you have your secrets and I don’t question you about your habits. Listen to what I have to say and don’t criticise or press for more detail — I don’t do that to you. Something else has happened — I have let something else happen and it’s very difficult for me to admit what has taken place. I allowed myself to be put in a position whereby I was forced to submit to spanking and, even worse, a thrashing.”

“What sort of thrashing?” Brenda yelled down the phone, her voice expressed the level of amazement she was feeling.

“Not rape!” I shouted, before she called the police, ” Not overly violent, if you know what I mean.” I paused, reluctant to explain or admit my feeble efforts to try and prevent what had been done with me.

“It was more of, let’s say, a sex thing, you know? I let someone whip me and tether me while we had sex.” Brenda was now confused and bemused, “And the problem is…?”

“I let things go too far. It was more than playful…. so the evidence is there, across my arse, in stripes and welts. How the fuck does a wife hide that from her husband?”

“So they won’t be gone before he comes home?” Brenda said, reiterating the obvious. “You must have had quite an amazing experience.”

I felt like she was mocking me.

Brenda cleared her throat, “Surely it will be simple enough to avoid letting him see you undressed for a few days; they will have faded by the time he comes home. I have to say though, it sounds like, well – if Brian wasn’t due home on Saturday then you wouldn’t be upset.”

“Of course I fucking wouldn’t!” I screamed.

“Not sure whether you’re seeing my point girl!” Brenda said, “I mean, it seems like you have no regrets about actually doing it — it’s just a problem having your husband return because you can’t hide the evidence. I’d venture to say that if Brian were away for a month, then you would, well, indulge in and enjoy the experience again!”

“Don’t be silly,” I retorted.

“Okay, have it your way. Good thing that old guy next door doesn’t know — then you would have a problem!”

I didn’t answer — I went quiet — and that was a mistake. A long moment passed.

“Oh my God!” Brenda cackled, “He knows doesn’t he — old Norton knows? How?”

Again, but this time through a feeling of self-loathing and sheer terror, I was rendered dumb. Brenda too remained quiet for a few seconds.

“Shit! It was him wasn’t it; you let him do it?”

“No, you’re being stupid — I’m going to hang up the phone!”

I did slam down the phone but on reflection realised I might need Brenda and was only digging a deeper hole to bury myself in. When I phoned back, Brenda was slow to pick up.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Was it Norton — did you bend over for him?”

Goodness I was mortified, having to admit to my actions, or rather, to some of them.

“Yes. It happened when he came round one day to do a job, one thing led to another, it all got out of hand.”

There didn’t seem to be a response from my friend.

“Brenda — are you still there?”

“Did he fuck you too?” she cooed? “I know that you enjoyed it — no, shit, let’s talk in plain English — it must have made you feel aroused! Did you let him pull down your panties?”

“Brenda!” I shouted, astonished by her attitude.

“I’m feeling aroused now!” she said, “Picturing that old man, spanking you! Did he force you to bend over; or did you quietly submit to him? My hand is inside my panties!”

“Brenda!” My voice had lost its ability to shout and now sounded hushed and subdued. I heard the familiar barely audible moans of a woman in the throes of stimulating her clitoris.

“Tell me!” Brenda sighed in a very sultry tone, “Tell me about it — what happened, how did it happen, every detail!”

This was doing something to me now, turning me on. Maybe if I gave away just a few secrets.

“He told me I was bad — for teasing him — letting him look up my skirt. He came up from behind and made me bend forward, then began to spank my bottom.”

Brenda moaned, “There is more though isn’t there? It sounds deliciously depraved having that old man spank you, submitting to him. Just picturing it happening is making me feel incredibly turned on!”

I decided I would tell about the first time, parts of it anyway; maybe change a few minor details.

“Yes, Brenda, it felt exciting and scary too. He used his hand at first, then he lifted my skirt and kept letting his fingers stroke and touch between my thighs, along my bum crack too!”

Unable any longer to resist the temptation my own hand went down between my legs and I began to play with my clit. I’m not sure which was more stimulating, recalling the events for Brenda or listening to her moans, knowing what she was doing!

“What do mean he used his hands ‘at first’?” she demanded to know.

I whispered down the phone, “He took off his belt — and started to whip me!”

I heard Brenda cry out, calling for her God, then heard the rattle of the chair as she made it rock; her hand must have been very busy, going at it like a piston!

“Brenda!” I called out softly, in a way that conveyed that I too was masturbating. “He thrashed my arse — yes it hurt at first, stung and burned — then he eased off, pulled down my panties — gave my bottom a rest and instead flicked the belt up between my legs, against my pussy lips. Brenda, I couldn’t help but wriggle and writhe!”

“Did he get his cock out?”

“Yes, but he didn’t put it in me; I admit he rubbed it over my skin. He fingered my cunt though! Brenda, he made me ‘cum’!”

“Would you let him do it again?”


“I wish I had been there; to make you suck my tits while I watched him whip your arse!” I was about to orgasm, picturing Mrs Norton, and what we did together!

“Yeah Brenda — I would have done that for you.”

Brenda was erupting and very vocal.

“Would you have forced me to lick your pussy Brenda? Picture yourself, legs wide open, watching Norton, with his cock hanging out, whipping my arse, you holding my head between your thighs, feeling my tongue inside your cunt!”

The face of the figure conjured up by my mental imagery changed constantly from Mrs Norton to Brenda.

“Is his cock very big?” my friend asked frantically.

“Yes Brenda!”

“Would that turn you on, having me there with you both, watching, forcing you to lick my cunt?”

“Oh yes Brenda!”

“Will you ask him? Let me come round and join in?”

That proposal shattered the fantasy! What the hell was she hoping for? That I just pop round to the neighbours house and say, “Hey, do you mind if…?”

“Brenda, that’s a step too far!” I reasoned.

“But you liked it — you would like it if he spanked and thrashed your arse again. If he had chosen to you would have let him fuck you!”

“You’re being unreasonable Brenda, we were fantasising.”

“Did you lie when you said you would like to have your head between my legs, lick my pussy?”

Oh my goodness, what had I got myself into?

“Brenda, I don’t know — you’re confusing me! Maybe I would. Talking like this has turned me on too!”

The receiver, at her end, was heard to click then the line went dead. Brenda had hung up on me.

I hadn’t expected a visit from Norton and his wife. An hour after speaking to Brenda the back door opened slowly and the couple asked if they could come in. Shamefaced and more than a bit embarrassed I beckoned the pair to sit at the kitchen table and offered coffee. My mind was by then reasonably rational though the telephone conversation had aroused me so much (mainly by having me wonder how it would feel to be with Brenda!) I had almost pushed the fear of my secret being discovered by Brian to the back of my mind. Remarkably I found myself wishing he were away for another week; not so my welts could heal and die down but to give me time to enjoy the experience one more time.

Mrs N looked at me in a certain way, a way she ought not to. I decided it would be best if I spoke plainly.

“You have given me a big problem. We must not do that again. How the hell do I explain the marks on my body to my husband?”

Mr Norton smirked and left his wife to respond. “Maybe, on reflection we should have been a little gentle. I’m glad that you can talk about it though – no need to ask if you enjoyed it. Bet you would like more if it wasn’t for Brian!”

“That’s not the point!” I snapped.

It felt really bizarre to be sat discussing, relatively calmly that amazing sexual episode. Mrs Norton must have seen something in my eyes; she felt confident enough to get up and moving behind me she gently massaged my shoulders. I was stunned by this sudden change of behaviour, more so when I saw old Norton, who had sat away from the table with thighs sprawled begin to grow a ‘tent’ in the front of his pants.

“You must feel really confused,” said the woman as she kneaded my shoulders, “I think you’re worrying far too much!”

She bent her head; first I felt her breath on my neck, then her cheek against mine. I shivered, then tingled inside, conscious that in spite of an urge to protest I felt excitement and a thrill.

“I can’t let Brian find out!” I snivelled, turning my head slightly toward Norton’s wife.

Almost before I finished the sentence her mouth covered mine, kissing me, thrusting her tongue between my lips; an easy task, as I didn’t resist. As a hand dropped from my shoulder to cup a breast Mrs N licked along the width of my cheek and nibbled my ear before tickling that sensitive spot an inch below, on my neck. I sighed then moaned, saying she should not do this while at the same time watching fascinated as Norton pulled out his stiff member to masturbate as he in turn watched we two women.

With an amazing show of strength Mrs N managed to pivot both the chair and I around thirty degrees to face her husband. Kissing and licking while she worked, I felt her fiddle with the buttons of my top then our lips became glued together, tongues exchanged when she bared my tits and handled them for her husband’s delight. It seemed she hoped that I would thrill in a similar way, by watching her husband slowly wank his dick as she broke away from kissing to hold my face forward with her free hand, still licking and nibbling my neck and earlobe.

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