Sunset Shackles: Betty's Surprise

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The front door clicked shut behind Betty as she kicked off her flats and let her briefcase thud onto the entryway table. The scent of jasmine from the garden still clung to the evening air, but something else—something electric—hummed beneath it. Then she saw it: a single folded note taped to the door at eye level, her name scrawled across it in Tom’s bold, unmistakable handwriting.

She unfolded it, her fingers brushing the paper like it might bite. *"Strip down to your heels and lingerie. Then go outside to the deck and secure your hands in the shackles above your head. Don’t make me wait."*

A shiver ran down her spine, pooling heat between her thighs. She shouldn’t like this. She *should* crumple the note, storm into the bedroom, and demand to know what the hell Tom was thinking. But the truth was, she’d been fantasizing about this for months—the way his voice dropped when he gave orders, the way his hands pinned her wrists above her head like she weighed nothing. So instead of arguing, she unbuttoned her blouse, letting it slip from her shoulders. The lace bra she’d worn today—black, barely there—was already doing half the work for her. Her skirt followed, then her panties, until she stood in nothing but the sheer scrap of lingerie, her stockings, and the stilettos she’d worn to close the quarterly reports.

The deck was bathed in the golden haze of sunset, the air warm against her exposed skin. The shackles were already there, bolted into the wooden beam above the lounger, the cuffs lined with soft leather. Betty swallowed hard as she stepped into them, the click of the lock echoing in her ears. She tested the restraints—no give. No escape. Her pulse throbbed in her clit, her breath coming faster as she realized just how *fucked* she was. Literally.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. The breeze teased her nipples through the lace, her pussy slick with anticipation. She squirmed, the metal biting into her wrists, her heels digging into the wood. Where the *hell* was he?

Then she heard it—the low murmur of voices, the crunch of gravel under footsteps. Tom rounded the corner first, his tie loose, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the chest she loved to bite. But it wasn’t just him. A woman trailed behind, all legs and curves in a tight red dress, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like a fucking fairy tale. Betty’s stomach twisted. *Another woman?* She’d never—*never*—shared. But before she could open her mouth to protest, Tom’s gaze locked onto her, dark and hungry, and the words died in her throat.

“Look at you,” he murmured, stepping closer. His fingers trailed down Betty’s arm, her skin prickling under his touch. “So fucking obedient.”

The blonde—*Lena*, Tom introduced her with a smirk—didn’t waste time. She sank to her knees in front of Tom, her manicured nails working his belt open with practiced ease. Betty’s breath hitched as his cock sprang free, thick and veiny, already leaking at the tip. Lena didn’t hesitate. She took him deep, her lips stretching around his girth, her throat working as she swallowed him down. Betty’s pussy clenched, her own arousal dripping down her thighs. She *hated* this. She *loved* this.

Tom groaned, his hand tangling in Lena’s hair as he fucked her mouth in slow, deliberate thrusts. “You like watching, baby?” he asked Betty, his voice rough. “You like seeing another woman choke on my dick?”

Betty whimpered, her hips rolling uselessly against nothing. She *did* like it. God, she liked it too much. Lena gagged, tears pricking her eyes, but she didn’t stop, her tongue swirling around the head every time she pulled back. Then Tom’s body tensed, his cock swelling, and with a growl, he came—thick ropes of cum painting Lena’s tongue, her lips, her chin. The blonde pulled off with a gasp, her mouth overflowing, and before Betty could process what was happening, Lena was there, pressing her lips to Betty’s.

The taste of Tom—salty, musky—exploded on her tongue. Betty moaned into the kiss, her body arching as Lena’s fingers found her nipple, pinching just hard enough to make her gasp. Tom watched, his cock already stirring again as he stroked himself lazily.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sinking into the lounger in front of Betty. His gaze raked over her, lingering on the way her lace panties clung to her soaked pussy. “Now let’s see how well you play with others.”

Lena’s hands were everywhere—cupping Betty’s breasts, sliding down her stomach, teasing the waistband of her lingerie. “She’s *dripping*,” Lena purred, her fingers dipping beneath the fabric. “Fuck, you’re *soaked*.”

Betty’s head fell back as two fingers slid inside her, curling just right. She’d never been touched by a woman before, but Lena knew exactly what she was doing, her thumb circling Betty’s clit in tight, relentless circles. Tom’s cock was rock hard again, precome beading at the tip as he watched them.

“Please,” Betty begged, her voice raw. “I need—*fuck*, I need—”

“You need *this*?” Lena’s mouth replaced her fingers, her tongue flat and hot against Betty’s clit. Betty cried out, her hips jerking against the restraints as Lena devoured her, her fingers still buried deep inside. Tom stood, stroking himself as he moved behind Lena, his cock pressing against her ass.

“Fuck her with your fingers,” he ordered, his voice a growl. “Make her come while I fuck you.”

Lena obeyed, her fingers pistoning inside Betty as Tom hiked up her dress and slammed into her from behind. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, mixed with Betty’s whimpers and Lena’s moans. Betty’s orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her pussy clenching around nothing, her body shaking as Lena lapped up every drop.

Tom wasn’t far behind. With a groan, he pulled out of Lena and strode to Betty, his cock in his hand. “Open,” he commanded, and Betty obeyed, her mouth falling open as he painted her lips, her tongue, her chin with his cum. Lena leaned in, licking the mess from Betty’s skin, their tongues tangling as Tom watched, his chest heaving.

When he finally unlocked the shackles, Betty’s legs nearly gave out. Tom caught her, his arm around her waist as he guided her inside. Lena followed, her dress still hitched up, her thighs glistening.

“Think we’ll do this again?” Tom asked, his lips against Betty’s ear as he carried her toward the bedroom.

Betty shivered, her body still humming. “Only if *I* get to watch *you* fuck her next time.”

Tom’s laugh was dark, promising. “Deal.”