Perspective-Russell

He pulled futiley on the cuffs that bound him to the sturdy chair. He grunted through the ballgag, but to no avail. Nothing intelligible was passing through his lips just now. Though he strained at his bonds, he was held fast, captive, and captivated.

 His eyes were riveted on the scene unfolding before him.
She was so lovely. Each piece of clothing removed revealed a new treasure to behold…

The shimmering length of hair as it was pulled free to cascade past her shoulders. The long sweeping curve of her neck where it blended into her shoulder. The sensual curve of her back where it nipped in at her waist. The flare of her hip. The full roundness of her tits, and the sweet pink berries that topped them.
   He felt his cock stir in his pants as hands came and played with those luscious fruits. His mouth watered, and a small fall of spit began to leak from the side of his mouth, around the gag, the long string of it coming to rest and puddle on the right leg of  his dress pants. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see this, not wanting this at all, shaking his head, no, no.
He could only sustain the suspense for a few minutes. The  ‘pzzzzzp’ of a zipper being slowly lowered made him wince. The soft whisper as the dress pooled on the floor was his undoing. His eyes sprang open, and there she was, standing like a beautiful statue.  She was naked but for stockings and heels.

He watched as she was stroked, fondled, and beginning to flush with lust.

He could smell her. Not just the perfume he favored on her pulse-points, but the sweet scent of her arousal. He wondered, if she turned just so, would he be able to see that arousal on her pussy lips? The sheen and glisten of her lust-dew as it slipped from her soft pink folds, and slid down her creamy thigh?  He drew in a deep breath, and another.

He felt his cock lurch in his pants, pressing painfully. He wondered that the pulsing of it was not audible in the room.  The throbbing in his penis nearly drowned out other sounds. Her soft moans punctuated his inward reverie, and he again tested the cuffs that held him.

He tossed his head, yelling as loud as he could around the gag. All that came out was a squeak, and another flood of spit.

FuckAll! He yelled, though mostly in his head.

When he fucked up, he sure did it big.

He watched, while trying to look away, as she laid back on the bed, her thighs opening to reveal its hidden flower, the wetness drenching her, filling the air, and his lungs with her smell. His mouth watered even more as he beheld his favorite view, his wife, spread and waiting for his mouth.