Love In Cathedral Heights

He'd worn no panties since his butt, blistered from a pre-game stropping, housed a cucumber the size of a Louisville Slugger, it seemed. "I got it at the Farmer's Market, Gerald...your regular dildo is getting chipped."

The Super bowl went fine until she'd blindfolded Gerry for the last 10 minutes of the game...

"I polished all the silverware in this dress so you'd let me see the whole game, Miss Helen!" Tears coming down from the kerchief..."Don't whine, Gerald, this is to test your listening skills...the announcer will tell you how things are going, he isn't as irritating as Howard Cosell ."

Now, she looked over at him. "I think you should get off the couch, Gerald...Kneel on the hassock right next to it...It'll help you stretch." She smiled mischievously. He obeyed, climbing on the hassock on his knees.

Immediately, Miss Helen reached over and began stroking his cock. She was so close that she could do this without having to lean over. It was quite comfortable for her..."Kneel up straight, dear as we did at the eight a.m. Mass." Gerry straightened his naked body.

This was even harder than the bed--he had to balance his handcuffed form, knees pressured, staying ramrod straight while Miss Helen tickled his throbbing member with her nail tips...what if he fell over?

The phone rang. Helen reached for the phone next to the couch with her left hand, the right still making poor Gerry crazy. "Hello, oh hi Miguel..."Her tongue was between her lips, arousing her straight soldier further. Miguel? Not the firm's most arrogant mail boy who he had dispatched to change the oil and wash Helen's hot-pink Austin Healy 500, a present from Gerry last spring, Gerry had ordered Miguel to do these chores or be fired, as the little creep had used the firm's courier service to pay a late bill.

Let him know whose in charge, you know? That was two months ago, Miguel had been over since then to rake leaves...But I was out of town...

"Motley Crue? I love them!" Helen giggled, leaning into the phone. But I was whipped for buying their CD, Gerry thought. "Try a little Brahms, Gerald." Miss Helen had said.

But now, "God, I'd love to go...Miguel, you're so sweet" She squealed like a schoolgirl. She reached a long nail under Gerry's scrotum and began toying with his full balls. Propping the phone on one shoulder Helen took her other hand and began manipulating the shaft, shooting Gerry a warning look as his shoulders seemed to be losing posture.

His butt was falling towards the backs of his legs as well.

"Mr. Morin? He can't stay out that late, he's in bed by eight." Gerry's face burned. Does she have to tell the world I have the bedtime of a nine-year old?

Helen was massaging faster as the conversation grew hotter "Do you think a lot about me, Miguel...you can tell me...I'm your sweetheart!" She pumped the shaft, and Gerry felt a wonderful, surging in his granite-hard cock as he hadn't felt in a hundred five days...oh, this is worth it all, I love her...His hips began shaking

violently, and he closed his eyes...now, now...NOW...yes, please...Gerry dropped his head to his chest, and waited for the blast. Suddenly Helen dropped his genitals as if they were a hot potato...she swung her legs over into a lying position.

She lit a Marlboro, and smiled at his face. ."Why should I quit smoking if you won't?" he asked years before.

"Adults can smoke, Gerald, but you'll always be a sniveling schoolboy." was the answer. Now she puffed away, talking kittenishly into the phone

"Oh Miguel, of course I enjoyed Thursday. You told Mr. Morin you were sick? I won't tell...the picnic was nice, and I didn't mind paying for the room at that little inn...Mr. Morin's platinum card can be very generous."

Helen watched Gerry, crushed at the sudden cease of the near-orgasmic experience, about to slump on the hassock. She put her hand over the phone.

" Keep kneeling with good posture, that's right straighten up or you won't cum til Labor Day...remember, Gerald, the Fourth of July isn't even here yet." She stopped her hiss to chuckle at the tear rolling down the now straightened Gerald's cheek. She went back to her conversation.

Gerry was in bad shape. His penis was in pain from suddenly not squirting, and still quite engorged, he had a serious need to pee, his legs were cramping from kneeling nearly forty minutes, and there was the unbelievable conversation...

"No, Mr. Morin's never told me I performed fellatio well, Miguel, it's not a part of our relationship." She sucked the little bastard's cock? "He's very rigid, Mr. Morin is...Sweetie, call me tomorrow and we'll plan for the concert. We can spend the night at the little Inn again. Goodbye." Love in Cathedral Heights-PART THREE

"How many packs a day did you smoke, Gerald?" She used a nail to flick ash at the young man's tumescent penis. As he was kneeling naked, hands cuffed behind him on the ottoman, this was not taken comfortably...He gasped, and his dick trembled.

Gerry was kneeling, not in a sitting position but with his butt up, as they do on the kneeler at church...this had been going on for an hour or two, and he was beginning to cramp. As Miss Helen was sitting comfortably on the couch not seven inches from Gerry's precarious balance on the hassock, it was only amusing to her. She was fully dressed, wearing a midriff t-shirt, tight over her large breasts, and short-shorts, showing her magnificent legs...Gerry felt even more nude in this situation...

"Butt up, Gerald, don't lean on your legs that way...and answer me!" Gerry's lip trembled...he had to pee badly. "I don't...remember, Miss Helen. It was over a decade ago that you made-helped me quit-"

Miss Helen flicked another, larger spark, which fortunately missed the cock entirely, scalding Gerry's inner thigh. "How many (flick) packs (flick)did you (flick)smoke a day, stop crying (flick) Gerald, I'm so sick(flick)of your sniveling...it's not attractive(flick) now about the cigarettes, I'm not going to stop flicking, til you tell me, dear..."

Gerry's crotch was stinging, and he was having a dear time trying to maintain his balance...his upper calves ached, as did his back

"One, uh or one and a half, Miss Helen."

"My sweet chain-smoker, I think it was more like three, and the first day you moved in here, you put a butt out on my antique cherry wood coffee table...you were an arrogant young man, weren't you?"

She flicked one more spark, it hit directly under the shaft, and Gerry fell off the hassock. Miss Helen got up and patiently helped him back onto the evil cushions...

"You know, darling, I only smoke about four ciggies a day..." Helen said, began rubbing the scorched, but still throbbing penis tenderly.

"Why are you so addictive?" She asked this as if Gerry had last smoked an hour ago, instead of back in 1988. Picking up a jar of Vaseline from the coffee table in question,(Gerry had long ago had the table refinished) she opened it and began spreading the cooling gel all over Gerry's shaft.

"Isn't it nice that we have jars of Vaseline all over the house like this?" Gerry sighed deeply, the woman certainly knew how to manipulate her fingers...(giggle) More Vaseline than most couples I imagine."

Miss Helen began energetically rubbing the underside of Gerry's penis with her long red-tipped fingers. "Poor Gerald, I went too far with the cigarette, let me soothe your wee-wee." She stroked a bit more. "Better than before you bought me the dryer, darling...remember the clothespin fun?"

Gerry shivered, and his cock wilted just a little. He remembered! But he quickly rose again, his landlady was too good with her massaging. Pre ejaculate oozed a bit from his penis tip, and Helen rubbed it right back in the skin like ointment, blowing through her full lips. "Ooh, I need to touch up."

She opened her lipstick, and put a fresh shade of pink on her lower lip, rubbing the two together...

"Wish I'd use these lips for fun, Gerald? Fun like Miguel gets?" She was referring to her lover, the mail clerk in a firm where Gerry was a partner. Helen put the lipstick away and pushed her head very close to his straining cock and after dipping her long nails into the Vaseline jar, began rubbing the foreskin with two fingers...

Gerry, despite the tiny burns all over his penis, felt it filling once again with blood, stiffening and he was incredibly aroused. Miss Helen's fingers rubbed the head, and then worked up and down the shaft...

"Poor Sweetie, does that feel better?" She rubbed the shaft more with her soft, white fingers, causing the semen to rise once again from the testicles...

Gerald sighed. He was so used to this Charlie-Brown-Lucy-pulling-away-the-football treatment that these false alarms shouldn't have bothered him, coming close to orgasm, REALLY BELIEVING he was going to cum, and then having her stop suddenly, and ridicule him.

Once after an excruciating forty-eight hour no-cum tease, which had followed fifty-one days of the padlock, he'd stolen her key and unlocked the padlock...she'd caught him, just before he'd squirted kneeling there on the bathroom floor, pumping away and clutching one of her brassieres. Miss Helen had given Gerry a weekend of hell, starting with the strap, and continuing with full infantilism treatment...

"Wear Depends until you learn not to squirt without permission, darling." Now, his cock felt that racing that happened right before orgasm yet AGAIN Gerry began trembling, his penis was starting to buck Helen switched from rubbing to tickling, and then...

Helen suddenly bent down and kissed the tip, something she'd never done before. She got down on her knees and kissed it again.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart? Does that help, kissing the boo-boo?" Suddenly, she seemed to be reverting to baby talk, and right in the position to give head... No! it couldn't happen..."Did my wittle Ge-wuld's wee-wee burn?" She stroked more, slathering Vaseline over the purple mushroom cockhead...

Gerry felt the surging again...His balls were leaden and he swayed on the hassock, it was so strange having his Miss Helen on her knees in front of his burgeoning, suffering penis. Would he get relief? This would be so exsquisite, if she blew him.

His last orgasm occurred when Miss Helen, entertaining a group of black male gay hairdressers had allowed him to masturbate his cock with his left hand (he was, of course right-handed) lubricated with Ben-Gay...he had to cum within ten minutes or no go... As the queens screamed with laughter at the naked, blindfolded young attorney pounding his pud desperately on a rubber sheet laid over the Oriental rug, Miss Helen blew smoke through her nostrils and sang "Jimmy Crack Corn..."and timed Gerry with his stopwatch from the firm track team...

He'd made it with twelve seconds to spare, and licked it up while the biggest of the gay hairdressers hit his ass with a wooden spoon...humiliating, but it had been an orgasm, now PLEASE LET ME HAVE ANOTHER A HUNDRED FIVE DAYS!!!...

Miss Helen suddenly stopped rubbing, to run her Vaselined hand through his buzz cut "Darling, aren't you glad we chopped off that blue and green streaked ponytail when you first moved in, fourteen years ago?...

Gerry'd been startled by his meek agreement to her hair change proposal; up til then his coiff had been a statement..."It's MY HAIR, you asshole!" this repeated jeremiad had effectively cowed Dad, a renowned author of family therapy manuals; hell, Gerry's first trip to Juvie, sixth grade? He'd tossed a brick at a traffic cop who'd made fun of his new mohawk...But Miss Helen had a way about her...

Miss Helen went back down to rub and kiss his weiner...this continued for a while, til Gerry was shaking in anticipated orgasm...

"Oh, Miss Helen...PLEASE let me cum...I'll do anything...oooh I'm so close..." Then Helen sat back, and reached for Gerry's penis with her patent leather pumps...

Rubbing the top of the cock with her right heel, she caused friction with the underside by rubbing the top of her other heel. .this went on for about twenty minutes, and as her legs were up in the air, Gerry could get brief panty shots under the miniskirt.

A former ballet instructor, Miss Helen could hold her legs up almost indefinitely, and caused great friction to Gerry's bloated, purple member rubbing away...occasionally she would stop and put both her heels together, squeezing the cock head painfully, and then return to rubbing the shoes against the naked, throbbing penis...

Gerry's hips began shaking again,as the semen seemed to be pushing out, he had to hold back, if he drenched her new shoes in cum, it would be fifty with the strap and another twenty-five with her evil cane, but he was so close, was it worth it? Oh Ohhh...He was so close, he felt it coming the first one in a hundred and five DAYSS...

Miss Helen suddenly dropped her feet to the floor, just seconds before Gerry was to spurt, and stood up. "Wha--no..." Gerry looked at her in alarm. Helen helped Gerry off the footstool. "Oh Miss Helen, thank you for taking me off that awful thing, my knees were killing me, but what about my cumming?"

"Don't you love to give orders, little boy." Miss Helen guided Gerry over to the marble floor of the fireplace..."Back on your knees..."

"No, it's been hours PLEASE!" Gerry was close to a tantrum. "My knees and my back are killing me, god damn..."

Miss Helen let go of Gerry and went into her bedroom...She didn't slap me...maybe things are looking up...Gerry stood on shaking legs...his penis was shriveling a bit in fear of his landlady's temper, but was still as hard as a regulation lead pipe.

"Gerald...sweetheart..."Miss Helen walked back in and stood in front of Gerry..."You must learn to obey, and not insist, don't you think I know more than you do?" Gerry hung his head..his eyes were open, however and in her hand were five jacks...the little metal stars that girls used back in the old days...

"Do you know what these are, Gerald?" Miss Helen shoved them into Gerry's down turned face." They're jacks, I left the ball in the other room... I showed them to you once."

Miss Helen bunched the jacks in her hand and crushed them against Gerry's balls. the pain was excruciating. " I played with them as a girl, and you foolishly told me that you made your poor little sister swallow one of hers." Helen squeezed the jacks harder, and the points were searing his scrotum, but Gerry didn't scream, just bit his tongue ".

But, darling boy, you couldn't take her to the Emergency Room, because you had a date that night...you laughed at the memory, Gerald." Miss Helen let go of Gerry's balls, and he heaved a sigh of relief. She bent down and put the jacks on the marble floor in front of his feet.

"Gerald, do you really want to orgasm?"

"Yes...you know I do..." Will you do something for me...it will be nice and also educational."

"Anything, Miss Helen..." Gerry began brightening up.

"I asked you to kneel before, and now I insist. Kneel on the jacks, Gerald..." Gerry looked down in horror, and Miss Helen took him by the shoulders and made him kneel again. His knees, not too well from the hours on the hassock felt new stings from the little metal jacks prodding..

"Now, Gerald, if you want an orgasm, I want one first. You haven't eaten me out since seven this morning, just before we went to Mass..." Miss Helen took off her shorts and panties and put her shaved vagina in front of Gerry's tortured face. "Eat, Gerald...give me the orgasm that you want."

* * * * *

It was ten o'clock. Gerry was once again spread eagled to the bed, after having licked Miss Helen to about four orgasms, before collapsing under the pain of the jacks...

Miss Helen had rubbed iodine on the knees, and taken him back to his prison of the morning... and was stroking his penis again...using the lotion. True to form, Gerry was again rock hard, as he'd been on and off for thirteen hours.

Helen was now in bra and panties, casually blowing on the tip of Gerry's cock, and then rubbing up and down feverishly on the purplish shaft...

"I came over and over, Gerald...it was wonderful..." She gripped the shaft like a VW bug throttle, and began rubbing up and down in quick strokes... Please, PLEASE..."

Are you ready, my sweet?"

"Yes ma'am..."She rubbed faster, and Gerry's hips ground and bucked, and it was now time, Oh, my wonderful Miss Helen! Suddenly Miss Helen stopped again, and Gerry felt an ineffable pain in the tip of his poor, tortured erection...

"Sweetie, I have to go watch the ten o'clock news. I forgot, there's something about the hairdressers union...I'll let you come at eleven p.m."

And she kept her word...two weeks later, on a Sunday night at eleven p.m., her grateful Gerald had a wonderful, surging orgasm, that was served back to him on Miss Helen's manicured fingers...

* * * * *

It was a blustery Sunday, in March of 2020. The memorial service had broken up, and the fifty-one year old managing partner of K street's most powerful law firm thanked the reverend and walked out into the cold air.

A sudden stroke...one day Gerry had just come home, and Helen was it appeared, fast asleep over a Jane Austen novel. Now, though he was heartbroken, and terribly terribly lonely for his partner of over thirty years... and had been crying daily for a week, Attorney Morin had a new problem. His padlock was still on, and he hadn't been able to find the key. Bolt cutters?

His last orgasm had been a month away, and he was grieving but horny, jerking off would help him forget Now, he could do it over and over again, whenever...

"Mr. Morin?" Gerry looked over, and the attractive young redhead who had been sitting in the pew behind him was smiling at his side.

"You're Keri Ann, right? Helen's niece? You've moved here to finish college?" Gerry smiled at her. God, Keri was gorgeous, the same figure as her aunt, but what mischevious eyes! Keri smiled and handed him a letter.

"Read this, please."

"Dear Gerald: Dr. Towlen informed me the other day that I have angina, and not long to live. I have kept my neice, Keri Ann, informed of our life together, and sent her the many pictures that I've taken of you in various states. She has inherited the house, and needs someone to help her with college, and perhaps grad school tuition. I trust you can help her. I love you very much, and treasure our time together. Helen P.S. Keri Ann has the key"

THE END NEW ADVENTURES IN CATHEDRAL HEIGHTS-PART ONE

Gerald Morin, J.D. re-read Helen's note, trembling...Helen, his landlady and dominatrice of 30 years, had passed away. And she'd told her 19-year old niece!

Gerry was astounded that the reserved Helen would share anything of their private life, but she'd always been an enigma.

After being tossed out of a fraternity house for selling drugs, the arrogant, womanizing "Scary Gerry" had been amused to answer the sexy, mysterious hairdressers "Room To Let" ad.

But then Gerry and Helen discovered they subscribed to the same tease/denial magazine. And, she'd taken over his life. transforming the drunken sophomore into a brilliant patent attorney in less than a decade. Gerry had never left.. Somehow, being caned for bad grades, and later, horsewhipped for poorly written law briefs, doing all the housework, having the bedtime of a nine year old, and wearing a chastity piercing wasn't so bad when Helen decided to "treat" Gerry.

Every week or two, Helen would tie Gerry naked to the bed, unlock the piercing and tease his cock with her soft, lubed hands and long red nails for hours, stopping whenever it looked like he was close to cumming. Then, she would lock the frustrated, swollen cock back up again...but every 10 or 12 sessions, Gerry never knew when, she would let him have a mind blowing orgasm.