Hielo - Sex Stories

Hielo

... hands from the wooden arms of the kitchen chair he was sat on. His eyes were stinging slightly, and as his senses began to rouse he could smell the odour of wine. He again tried to move his hands, but they were held fast to the arm of the chair. He tried to stand, to find his feet similarly gripped to the legs of the chair. “Hielo!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “Hielo.” Before he ever saw her, he heard her. He heard the sound of heels against the wooden floor. He called her again, but there was no reply. He was now clenching his eyelids together and trying to open them. Eventually he began to be able to make out shapes and movement, at first an almost colourless blur. The shapes began to take form, slowly, until eventually he was able to see Hielo, stood in front of him. He could also see his hands were bound tight by rope to the arms of the chair. Likewise his ankles to its sturdy legs. “Hielo, what the fuck is going on?” Hielo was stood, impassively watching him. After a few moments, she began to slowly unbutton the front of her dress, staring into his eyes with frozen impassivity. “You,” she said in a kind of cold, unfeeling tone, the like of which he had never heard fall from her lips before, “are pathetic.” She continued to unbutton her dress, one by one. “Hielo, please. What is going on?” His head was a mess of recently interrupted sleep and confusion. “Let me ask you ,” she growled, her voice dark rough like the side of a wooden wine barrel. “What the fuck is ...

... wrong with you ?” “What do you mean, what the fuck is wrong with me ?” “You don’t know me at all, do you Alejandro?” The buttons of her dress now all open to the waist, she eased her shoulders back and allowed her dress to fall from them. Alejandro watched as it cascaded like a dark dream down her body and to the floor. As it did so, Alejandro saw his wife, stood in front of him, wearing a black and scarlet basque which was holding sheer black stockings from shining slices of black ribbon. Her black lace panties barely covered her sex. Her slender, shapely legs, from feet to mid thigh were encased in black leather boots with slim, high heels, that lightly tapped ‘sex’ into the wooden floor with every movement. “Hielo. Untie me, please, and let’s talk.” “Oh, I intend to talk, Alejandro. And you are going to listen,” she purred. “You think you know me so well, don’t you? You say I don’t want to.......fuck. That was the word, wasn’t it? Shall I say it again for you? Fuck.....fuck......fuck.” Alejandro had never heard Hielo use the word before. Each time she spat it out, slowly, seductively, he felt his length move within his trousers, jerking into life. “Oh, I want to.....fuck, Alejandro. You have no idea.” She eased herself onto the kitchen chair opposite him, parted her legs and allowed her fingers to caress up and down her thighs, scratching the gently with her nails. “Yes, I want to.....fuck. And plenty of men want to fuck me too, Alejandro. Did you know that?” The corners of ...