Chapter One
My wife and I lived in a two-story condominium in North Florida on the Gulf of Mexico. The area where we lived was dotted with condominium townhouses and high-rises, with some areas of dunes in between, and a long expanse of white beach. Down the coast about eight miles was deserted beach, with both a gulf side and a side which faced the intracoastal waterway. This area, especially the intracoastal waterway side, was deserted and mostly hidden by large dunes. We had made love several times in the dunes, but never quite in the fashion that I had in mind for today.
We gathered up the usual blanket, drinks, food, and sunscreen. I added a few things to my backpack which I hoped I could use later, and we started driving down the beach for our day in the secluded dunes. My wife was in her mid-thirties, and had the body of a twenty-year-old. She was a natural blonde, with short hair and a pair of tits that were her pride and joy. They were large, but not saggy, and had dollar-sized aureolae that begged for attention. Her pussy hair was cropped short for the skimpy thong bikini that barely concealed her pussy lips and nipples. Her figure was slim, with a flat, firm belly, and long legs that didn’t quite come together where they met. They never quite fully concealed her pussy, and her always-visible clit seemed to always peek out from its tiny covering.
Arriving at the site, we parked on the side of the beach road and walked the half-mile across the dunes to the water on the intracoastal waterway side of the island. We hit the water and played for awhile, and then ate lunch. After lunch, I began the real activities I had in mind.
“Want to try something different?” I asked. “Oh, and just how many ways can you screw differently on the beach?” my wife asked, playfully. “Well, we haven’t tried beach bondage yet,” I replied. “Oh, no! Not out here in the open! Not in broad daylight!” she replied. But I noted that the playful tone was still in her voice. “Why not? I’ll fix you so that I can release you in a hurry if someone is coming. We can do it on the beach so I can see someone a long way off. It’ll be safer that screwing in the dunes where we could be surprised at any moment because of our not being able to see past the dunes.” I sounded really convincing.
“Just where did you have in mind?”
“See that tree at the water’s edge? That would be perfect. I can see almost all the way to the road, and for at least a mile along the beach in both directions. I’ll tie you facing the water, so you can’t be seen from the road.”
“Well, I guess I’ll try it. But don’t strip me! I don’t want to take any chances out here. You can play under the suit. You can’t fuck me standing up very well, anyway.” She sounded very stern, but I still detected the playful tone in her voice. We quickly packed up everything in case we had to make a hasty retreats. Then I picked up my backpack and we headed toward the tree.
The tree was an old scrub oak, and was about a foot in diameter. There was sand all around the base. The closest branch was about eight feet above the ground. It was a perfect post. I backed my wife up to the tree, and placed her feet on either side of the trunk. I placed a leather cuff on each ankle, and clipped a chain between her ankles behind the tree. This would keep her knees apart. I then placed a leather cuff on each wrist, and raised both arms above her head, chaining them together in a similar fashion as her ankles. So, she was my captive, with both arms over her head, chained together behind the tree, and both ankles chained apart behind the tree. The position caused her to arch her back, sticking her magnificent tits out as far as possible. Then I produced the final accouterment. A blindfold!
“Oh, NO! No you don’t! Not here! I want to see if someone comes!” she protested.
“OH, YES! I’ll be your eyes. Besides, it will be more stimulating if you can’t see. Remember, you still have the safe word if you REALLY want me to stop. You haven’t used it yet.”
We both knew the safe word was the name of our pet lab, Manchester. It was a word one would not likely mistake for another, and one not likely to be uttered by mistake. That way, she could protest as much as she wanted, but unless she said, “Manchester,” it was a signal for me to keep right on doing whatever I was doing. I placed the blindfold over her eyes. Then I set up the camera. She realized what I was doing, and began to squirm in protest. She knew I was filming her struggles. Then I panned the beach just to record the total environment of her captivity. Re-focusing the camera on her, I began my torment. Nothing unusual, really. First, I kissed her deeply for a long time. In the middle of the kiss, I began running my fingers down her arms toward her armpits. Tickling was always a part of our bondage, and she was extremely ticklish. I usually made her come several times just by tickling. As her struggles intensified, I kept kissing her until she finally began pleading.
“AAAHHHHAAAAA!!! PP–AAAHH PPLLEASSE!! Not there!! AAEEEEIIIIIIIEEEEE!!”
My hands gradually moved from her armpits toward the sides of her barely covered breasts. Her laughter changed to near-screams, and her struggles were unending. The camera was capturing it all! My fingers danced to her ribs, across her belly, down to her groin, the fronts of her legs, the backs of her knees, and then I stopped. I began kissing her lightly as I came up. I licked the fronts of her thighs, her belly, ribs, and the sides of her breasts. By the time I stopped, she was breathing heavily and moaning softly. I continued to play, but never really touched any part of her that was covered by the suit.
“Please touch me!” she begged.
“You know, I can’t really touch you the way I want to through the suit,” I replied. “YOU BASTARD! You are going to make me beg you to strip me, aren’t you?!” “Well, not right now. I can wait awhile. I like what I’m doing OK for now,” I teased. My fingertips resumed their dance over her ribs. “AAAAIAAIIIIIIEEEEEE!! DDOONN—–AAAAHHHHH—— NOT THEREEEEEEAAHHH!!”
Then I saw the boat! It wasn’t large, just a fishing boat with one person in it. It wasn’t close, and seemed to anchor about a half mile off shore. Then I saw the casting motion of a fishing pole. To my wife’s dismay, I stopped, and took out a pair of binoculars from my pack. I could see that the boat was occupied by a man who was scanning the horizon with his own binoculars. They seemed to be large, which probably meant that they were powerful. He didn’t see me, so I quickly put down the binoculars and pointed the camera at him, closing the telephoto so it would show the presence of the boat and fisherman clearly. Before he turned in my direction, I had refocused the camera, and had resumed tormenting my wife. I continued to tickle and stroke and lick until she was in a frenzy. Then I noticed that the man’s silhouette seemed to be turned toward us. I waved, he waved back, obviously looking at us through the binoculars. I realized that we wouldn’t be recognizable. She was blindfolded and I had on sunglasses.
It was then that my wife began to beg. “Please, DAMMIT! I don’t care what I said before! I want you to get rid of this suit and touch me where it counts!”
“Are you sure? What if you’re seen?!” “I’ll take that chance. Besides, you said you could release me in a hurry if someone comes along.” “Oh, I can. Let me get this straight. You want me to leave you tied, strip you naked, and make you come regardless of what happens unless someone comes along. Is that right?”
“DAMMIT, YES!! PPLLEEAAASSEEE STRIP ME AND MAKE ME COME!!!”
“OK. Remember, you made the rules. I will strip you, but first I have to tell you that there is a boat anchored off shore about a half-mile with a fisherman in it who’s looking at us through what appear to be very powerful binoculars. So far, he hasn’t made any move toward us. He’s just watching. So I guess that doesn’t qualify as a reason to change your orders.”
“WHAT!! OF COURSE IT DOES! HE’S WATCHING US!!”
“But you didn’t say watching. You said someone coming along. That’s different! I’m going to take off your top now, and start making you come.” “Oh, GOD! You’re really going to force me to put on a show for him, aren’t you!!?” “Unless you say the safe word. So far, I haven’t heard it,” I replied. And I didn’t hear it then, either. “I think his binoculars are powerful enough that he can probably see your nipples and clit,” I lied. She shuddered, but still didn’t say the safe word. I untied the neck strap, and reached behind her arched back to untie the back strap. Her tits bounced out as the top fluttered to the sand. My wife buried her face in her arm in complete embarrassment. Her nipples stood straight out from the large aureola in excitement. I went behind the tree and reached around with both hands, cupping and kneading her breasts. I pinched the nipples and pulled on them just to increase the torment.
“You’re offering them to him, aren’t you!” “Sort of, I guess. You do present a rather delectable sight.” Then I came back from behind the tree and kissed her breasts lightly, licking and sucking the nipples. She was soon in her previous state of frenzy.
“Now I’m going to show him your pussy,” I said softly in her ear. “I know. I’m just not sure I’m ready for this yeehh–OOOHHHHHH!!! GOD!! You did it!!!” she mewed as I quickly untied both hip straps and she realized that her pussy was on full display to the fisherman! “Now I’m going to take a few close-ups with the camera,” I said. “Oh, God! I feel so embarrassed! You’re videotaping me while he is watching me through the binoculars!” “Not just video,” I said, as the first whir of the Polaroid camera was heard, “I’m also taking a few Polaroids for my internet newsgroup.” I finished, and replaced the camera on the tripod, still running. I removed her blindfold so she could see the fisherman as I began to increase her torment. Then I began to caress her legs, abdomen, and breasts. By the time I touched her clit, she was panting and struggling. I carefully separated her pussy lips, giving the onlooker a clear, unobstructed view of her pussy, and slowly began stroking up and down her moist slit. I simultaneously began licking and sucking her tits. My wife exploded! She couldn’t move much, but she managed to spread her knees widely as she pumped up and down on my finger as it slid up and down her slit. Then I slipped my finger inside her with each thrust, and her motions took on a new intensity. By now, she was grunting and groaning, looking directly at the boat with complete lust in her eyes. I slowly reached behind her with my other hand. It was when I slipped my other middle finger into her asshole that she exploded in her first climax. I did not stop. I continued to finger her pussy and clit and ream out her asshole as I licked and flicked her tits. She had several more shuddering climaxes.
Then I noticed the fisherman was no longer standing up, but was sitting down. I knew the boat had a low-power motor so it wouldn’t scare the fish. It wouldn’t go fast. I quickly released the chains and whisked the cuffs off my wife’s ankles and wrists. I threw everything, including the blindfold and suit, into the backpack, and threw my wife a dark long T-shirt to quickly put on. We were half way to the car as the boat pulled up on shore.
We reached the car and took off toward home. I reached in my backpack to show my wife the Polaroids. Then I realized that I had taken six, and had only five. The one missing was a full frontal nude shot of my wife chained to the tree and completely displayed, although unrecognizable. It seemed only fitting to give the spectator a souvenir of the show. A couple of days later, I showed my wife the polaroids I had taken of her tied to the tree. I had also made some video capture shots of her struggling and coming. I showed them to her on the computer, through the internet newsgroup. As the reality of all this hit my wife, she became more and more excited by the knowledge that probably thousands of viewers had downloaded the shots of her torment and bondage. Our lovemaking took on a new intensity, and she confided to me that she couldn’t wait for my next surprise bondage scenario.
–THE END –