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The Scent of Another Woman

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Art and Sylvia stumbled up the walk towards the house. After an evening of dining drinking and dancing they were both a little tipsy. Sylvia unlocked the front door of the modest suburban house and turned on the lights as they went in.

In her mid thirties Sylvia was a very attractive woman. She wore her brown hair fashionably short and had a well developed figure that she liked to show off. Tonight she was wearing a gold lame dress which fitted her body very snugly and was short enough to show her long legs to good advantage, But it was her eyes that people usually commented, for Sylvia’s eyes flashed whenever she spoke, betraying the heated sexuality within her.

Art was considerably older than Sylvia. He was a little on the heavy side but carried the extra pounds well. His large muscled hands were the envy of all Sylvia’s girlfriends for they knew how he loved to massage her with them.

The two of them had been together for several years now, and their sex life was the envy of the select few who shared their lifestyle. Art was dominant, Sylvia was submissive and the two of them had a passion for each other that showed whenever they were together. Art could rarely keep from touching Sylvia for more than a few minutes, while Sylvia had the habit of losing her train of thought whenever he did so. Art delighted in being able to distract Sylvia from almost any endeavor.

The was no distracting her tonight however. No sooner had the door closed behind them when Sylvia wrapped herself around him, pulling his had down to her own and kissing him deeply. He responded, tasting her tongue and feeling the hot passion he felt for this woman surging through him.

Her hand tugged at his belt buckle, then ripped at the zipper of his trousers. She pulled his pants down letting them drop to the floor around his ankles. Her hand tore at his underwear and they fell down as well. He scrambled to step out of them, his cock rising at her touch.

She held his cock in her hand tightly and grinned wickedly at him. “Take your shirt off” she commanded.

He did as she said and slowly unbuttoned the garment. He laughed as she moistened her lips as the fabric separated revealing a hairy chest.

Sylvia pulled him by his penis, and he followed her down the hall. She pushed to door open into their bedroom and pulled him inside. She released his stiffening member and playfully pushed him onto the bed.

He watched her with fascination as she danced for him, her body swaying to a tune that only she could hear. She turned her back to him and unzipped the dress, then turned back to face him as it fell off her body. It was all that she had worn on their night out, and she now stood naked in front of him.

She smiled and slowly knelt on the floor in front of him and reached towards him with both arms, crossing her wrists.

Art acknowledged her signal. He stood up and walked over to the dresser drawer. He opened it and removed a length of heavy braided cotton sash cord.

Sylvia had not moved. Her arms were held out towards him, her wrists crossed at a ninety degree angle. He tied a clove hitch around her outstretch arms, opposite the thumbs. Then he took four wraps around, snugging each one up tightly. He changed direction and looped the ankara escort rope around her wrists again, this time passing under her thumbs. When he had completed another four twists around her arms he tied the entire lashing off in another clove hitch. About four feet of rope remained and he tugged at the end of it. Sylvia rose obediently.

On the wall of the bedroom at the foot of the bed was an ornate ring, just a foot below the ceiling. Art fed the end of the rope through this ring and pulled Sylvia’s arms up above her head. In a moment she was tied to the wall, her arms over her head.

They had used the ring many times, it was sturdy enough to support her entire weight, and often it had. They had spent many hours playing with ropes and chains, binding Sylvia in a variety of positions and postures.

Tonight though Art simply wanted her bound to the wall, and he stepped back as he always did to admire her, tied to the ring. With only a single rope tying her to the ring he could easily turn Sylvia around so that she either faced the wall of away from it.

He turned her so she faced the wall. Returning to the dresser drawer he withdrew a length of heavy fabric. This he wrapped around Sylvia’s head, blindfolding her.

Sylvia’s heart beat faster, not knowing what he had in store for her, and now, unable to see what he was doing. She listened as he returned to the drawer where all their toys were kept.

He paused, long enough that Sylvia had to exhale. She tried not to breathe, in anticipation of what would happen next. He waited until he saw her take a breath.


The riding crop came down on her buttocks, swishing through the air. Sylvia let out a shriek as much because of the surprise as the pain. She never know when the first strike would come.

He paused again. Then Sylvia felt another sensation and Art ran a soft paintbrush over her buttocks. The still tingled from the smack of the crop and the soft bristles only emphasized the heat on her skin where a red welt was forming.


The crop struck her again. She gasped as the leather came down hard on her soft round ass. Within seconds she could feel the paintbrush again, this time sliding slowly up her spine.

How long would this go on? The first time they had played this game Art had kept her tied for hours, bringing her close to orgasm, then backing off. The touch of the riding crop alternated with the feeling of the paintbrush. The pain and pleasure mingled and eventually she could no longer tell one from he other. The smack of the crop would bring her closer to orgasm while the delicate brushing would be shear agony. Pleasure became pain and vice versa.

“I have a surprise for you tonight my dear” Art whispered in her ear.

Sylvia sensed, rather than heard, another person enter the room. She sucked in her breath deeply. They had never invited another person to their sessions. She had not felt comfortable with a third person in their lovemaking, and frankly she was jealous of any woman who might have the opportunity to be with Art. She wanted him to herself!

Art turned her around so she was facing the bed, and removed the blindfold so that she could see. Standing there in the bedroom was a young woman, a woman ankara escort bayan they had met briefly at the bar that night.

Art made the introductions. “Sylvia this is Harley. Harley this is Sylvia”

“What the fuck is this?” Sylvia hissed. “You brought another woman here?!!!! We never do that!”

Art stepped up to her and stroked her chin with his finger. ” I know that you get jealous when I visit with other women. I thought we would put that green eyed monster to work”

“What do you mean?” Sylvia cried. ” There was a real tinge of fear in her voice”

Art grinned. There was a passion in his eyes, a look that sometimes scared Sylvia. He had never hurt her, but she knew he was capable of it. Only his love for her prevented him from losing control.

“I’m going to fuck Harley. Right here in front of you.”

“Noooooooooooooo” screamed Sylvia. “You want to fuck that bitch you do it somewhere else. Not here in our bedroom!”

Harley stepped forward. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, both slid off her body like magic and she sidled up to Sylvia. She whispered in her ear . “What are you going to do about it. Looks like you are ‘all tied up’ at the moment.”

Harley jumped as Sylvia kicked at her with her free foot. Sylvia knocked herself off balance and felt her self fall, putting her entire weight on her bound wrists. She swore and pulled herself upright, her eyes flaming at the sight of the nude young woman in her bedroom.

Harley wasted no time. She dropped to her knees in front of Art and took his penis into her mouth. The stood side on to Sylvia, giving her a perfect view. Harley sucked Art’s cock with slow expert strokes, taking him deep into her mouth. She would turn her head occasionally and look directly at Sylvia who fumed at the sight of her man being taken by this harlot.

For his part Art threw his had back in pleasure and felt her suck him, her warm moist mouth enveloping his cock. He tongue tease the head of it and he knew he wouldn’t last long if he let her continue. He put his hand on her head and pulled her off his cock. He nodded toward the bed.

Harley got up, but did not move directly to the bed. Instead she went over to Sylvia. Sylvia felt the ropes on her wrists holding her back as Harley came up to her. She could smell the cheap perfume the young woman wore, what was worse she could smell her pussy. The scent of an aroused woman, here in her bedroom. There was a bead of sweat between Harley’s breasts. She whispered in her girlish voice “Now…. I am going to fuck him.”

“You bitch,” Sylvia heard herself say “Don’t you fucking dare!” She lunged at Harley. It was no use the rope held her tight.

At that moment Art grabbed Harley and pushed her down on the bed, on her belly. She could see his cock, hard and erect. He grabbed Harley by the hips and pulled her back on her knees, then standing at the edge of the bed he penetrated her. Harley moaned as his cock slid into her pussy.

Sylvia could see both their faces. Art’s eyes were closed as he drove his cock into the young woman. Harley’s had was turned to one side, her face distorted as it was pushed down onto the sheet. Her hips pushed back onto Art and she matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

It escort ankara was over very quickly. Art pulled out of her and held his cock. He gasped as a geyser of cum spewed out of his cock and onto Harley’s back side. Harley fell forward onto the bed, panting.

Art stood there for a moment, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He reached down and picked up Harley’s clothes. He threw the out the bedroom door, into the hallway. He bent down and whispered into Harley’s ear “Thanks love. Now you have to go”

Harley turned to protest, but he put his finger to her lips. She pouted, then slid off the bed and went into the hallway. A moment later they heard the front door slam.

Sylvia opened her mouth and was about to tell Art what a bastard he was when he looked at her. His mere gaze brought her to silence. He reached up and loosened the knot that held her hands to the ring on the wall, then he quickly undid the hitches holding her wrists together.

He held her wrists and pulled down on them, pulling Sylvia to her knees. He stood in front of her.

Sylvia could see his cock, still slick with the juices of Harley’s pussy. She could smell the whore’s scent on her man’s cock. A feeling, a passionate rage, was building inside of her. She felt Art’s hand on the back of her head and she found herself opening her mouth and taking his cock as she had done many times before.

The bile came up in her throat as she tasted pussy on his cock. She opened her mouth wider to keep from tasting it and Art pushed his cock deeper into her mouth. Giving up she sucked hard, trying to salivate and wash the bitter taste away. She felt Art growing hard in her mouth and soon had settled into a smooth steady cocksucking, feeling him fill her mouth with his cock.

Just as he had with Harley, Art stopped her and led her to the bed. Sylvia felt his strong hands on her back as he pushed her down into the doggy position. She felt her face touch the sheets and the scent of Harley’s perfume assaulted her nostrils. She reared up and Art pushed her down again.. She felt his cock touching her thighs, then he slipped into her.

The rage was filling her now. In her passion she bucked violently, taking the cock to the hilt on its very first thrust. The smell of this woman, this woman who would dare fuck her man, was in her nose but his cock was in her pussy now. She grabbed the sheets, pulling them off the mattress and bunching them in front of her. Nothing she could do could take that awful smell away. Her knees lifted off the bed as she fucked Art, her pussy grabbing his cock.

She came

It was unexpected. The sounds the smells the physical touches of the evening had all conspired and she came, hard and violent. She pitched forward on the bed, off of Art’s cock and her orgasm flowed in waves over her body. Art came too, a shower of semen on the backs of her thighs. Sylvia hardly felt it and she gasped and thrashed on the bed. She pulled her legs up in a fetal position as the orgasm subsided. She panted there on the bed, satisfied know that her own scent had overpowered the soft aroma left by Harley.

The bedroom door opened. It was Harley, wearing just her T-shirt.

“May I come in now?” she asked in a soft voice. Art nodded.

She came over to the bed and sat down on it, She reached out and stroked Sylvia’s hair gently. “I’m sorry I made you jealous. Art said it would build you up and really get you hot. Did it?”

Sylvia smiled weakly. That wonderful fucking bastard had done it to her again.

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