Tristan is deeply in love with his wife, Autumn. Every year for her birthday, he plans a special evening that always ends with an amorous adventure. This year he devises a decadent indulgence for the senses and invites a male friend to join in the fun. The surprise birthday threesome leads the husband and wife on an erotic journey of self-discovery and sexual satiety as they push boundaries and limits and dream to be DesireBound.
A pair of muscular arms slid beneath mine, lifted me from my chair, and steered me out of the restaurant. Perhaps we were close to our destination and Tristan wanted to surprise me with our evening adventure. Where could we possibly walk from here?
I conjured up a map in my mind’s eye and scanned the area. A local store, perhaps? We were near the theater district, but that wouldn’t explain the blindfold. A shiver ran up my spine. Maybe we were going to the Aviary Club. My heel stuck in the uneven sidewalk, and my foot twisted. I fell forward. My body jerked, and panic bubbled in my stomach.
“Just relax. I’ve got you,” an unfamiliar rugged voice said as the hands on my arms tightened to hold me up. “We’re almost there.”
We finally stopped walking.
“Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.” Tristan placed a sweet kiss upon my cheek, and then let go. “Wait here.”
My arm remained entwined with that of the husky stranger as he held on to me and ensured that I did not fall. I couldn’t help but notice how large and muscular his arms were as I shimmied closer to him in the brisk night air. I regretted leaving my coat in the limo. Resisting the urge to take off my blindfold, I immersed myself in his embrace. I hadn’t been in anyone else’s arms besides my husband’s in a very long time.
My strapping escort unexpectedly granted my wish by sweeping his arms beneath my legs and picking me up. I wrapped my own arms around his neck, leaned my head against his chest, and nuzzled closer as he bent over. Just as quickly as he picked me up, however, he deposited me into my husbands’ familiar grasp. A fleeting sense of disappointment filled me.
The limo door slammed as Tristan manhandled me across the seat. He grasped my wrists and brought them over my head, then slowly wound a cord between them and attached them to something above me.
“Do you trust me?” he asked me again, nibbling my ear.
With a giggle, I nodded, “Shouldn’t I?”
Even so, I wondered why he kept asking me that. As Tristan staged me, my thoughts returned to my muscular attendant. He must have been tall and brawny. When I had tripped, he had just about lifted me up with one arm. I envisioned a handsome, ripped bodybuilder coming to my rescue. As the limo began to move, a lightness bubbled within me.
The wine had left me buoyant, while the blindfold contributed to my heightened sense of awareness. The leather seat rubbed against my legs, and Tristan had bound my arms just tight enough for me to remain comfortable. My heart pounded in my chest. Its loud beating betrayed the desire coursing through me as I lay still and imagined what was to come.
My husband reached underneath me and lowered the zipper on my dress, loosening it but leaving it on as a sort of temporary obstacle. Leaving one hand behind my body, he straddled me and lifted me gently, unhooking my bra while tracing his lips along my neck. Since he had restrained me, I could do nothing more than simply enjoy the experience.
He positioned me back onto the seat and lovingly caressed my face and shoulders. His familiar touch elicited sweetness from within my abdomen that gradually permeated my belly and radiated outward. He settled next to me, slid the bra straps off my shoulders, and lifted each breast from my plunge brassiere. Leaning in, he kissed me deeply and continued to tenderly stroke my body.
I floated on a sea of excitement, his tenderness and the wine I had consumed an intoxicating combination. Riding the waves of titillation, I engaged him in a kiss as he fondled me. His body blanketed mine. He tweaked and suckled my breasts as if I had two mouths and four hands upon me.
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t imagined the extra attention. A second person, whose presence only added fuel to my fire, had joined my husband in the limo.
“Wh—o are you?” The words flew from my lips. Apprehension, mingled with excitement, brewed in my belly. I was not yet certain I wanted to know the identity of my un-named paramour.
“A dream,” he murmured as his lips touched mine, the hunger burning there a new and different flame to feed.
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