My Saturday Night: Edgingbyhoney28©
Dear Fellow Literoticans,
This is the third installment of my non-fiction series (see "My Friday Night" and "My Saturday Night"). While it is obviously intended to turn you on, this isn't just a 'stroke story,' so if you're looking for a quick way to get off, you might want to move along.
That said, this story contains cross-dressing (obviously), femdom, rope bondage, tease-and-denial, strap-on fucking, more tease-and-denial... please read on if I had you at hello :)
I have decided to continue posting in "TS and CD" because that is where I started, and it still plays heavily in our 'adventures,' however we are getting more and more into bondage and dominance. If you feel like these stories would be better suited to the BDSM category, please, let me know.
I swear the weeks are getting longer.
The teasing doesn't help.
This past Tuesday morning, I texted him, "Tomorrow you're playing dress-up." And that night on the phone I told him that I wanted him to wear a full slip beneath his work clothes on Wednesday. And panties.
"I want you to get them now."
"They're in the car."
"So what? Go get them. I don't care that it's raining."
Let me pause here to give a tidbit of information that I don't think I've mentioned. The reason that we go to a hotel every weekend isn't that we're cheating.
After Nick's girlfriend lost her battle with cancer, he moved in with his parents. He had been with women before who had been into femdom, but she was the first one who he felt comfortable enough with to really explore cross-dressing. They also got into chastity and eventually strap-ons. This is not my story to tell, and I can't do it justice in a paragraph here, as an aside, but they helped each other heal through kink, and this is something that I can relate to myself.
My husband cheated on me almost two years ago, and we split up. I started reading erotica, and then writing it, and by chatting with men openly online I explored a side of myself that I had never allowed to thrive. Embracing the fact that gay male sex had always pushed my buttons somehow morphed into a strap-on fetish and the Domme inside of me emerged like a beautiful, kinky butterfly from a boring vanilla coccoon. I became a different person in my everyday life, more confident.
I have always been good at being the person who I think others want me to be. Now, I am who I am, and anyone who doesn't like it can fuck off.
So, Nick is currently crashing in his parents' basement, his cute little dog ruining all their carpets. I tease him that she is just like her owner - talks a lot, constantly misbehaves, but she's so cute you have to love her anyway.
And I share a house with my sister, her boyfriend, and her 5 year old daughter. I have a toddler myself, and I see Nick when she sleeps over her father's house.
For now, it is easier to have our crazy forays into sexual deviance at a hotel.
I thought I should tell you all of this right now so that you don't think Nick is a 37 year old fuck-up living in his parents' basement. He might argue this point; in fact, he has. Still, I don't think he's a loser.
Continuing my story: He went upstairs and outside into the rain to dig his favorite pair of panties out of the laundry basket of sin in the backseat of his car. When he came back into the house, I heard him say something to his mom because she was in the kitchen and asked why he went outside.
I started laughing. "Did you just walk past your mom with panties shoved in your pocket?"
He slept in the slip and panties that night, and wore them beneath two shirts and dress pants the next day.
That morning, I texted him. "I love that you're wearing a slip under layers of clothes so no one will know what a sissy bitch you love to be for me."
He sent me a picture of his shirt unbuttoned, his hand pulling the collar of his t-shirt to the side so that the black strap of his slip was visible on his shoulder.
After wiping the drool off my face, I texted, "Oh, I want to bite you."
He sent several more pictures, but work got busy and it was over an hour before I was able to take a look at them. The wait drove me insane. When I finally had the chance to look at the pictures, they put me in a state of wild arousal that made it difficult to put my phone down, and even harder to get back to work. I kept picking up my phone to sneak a glance at the photos every chance I got.
My favorite one is a photograph of his torso and thighs, his blue dress shirt hanging open and his white tee coming down to his waist, the black slip visible beneath, over the tops of his thighs. His legs are apart, so the hem of lace several inches wide at the bottom of his slip is easy to appreciate because you can see through it in the space between his thighs.
"Seeing the lingerie beneath your clothes is unbelievably sexy. Wish I was there to tease you. I'd like to slide my hand down the back of your pants and feel the slip. Your cock would be so hard, pressing aginst me."
"No boxers this time."
"Fuckin. Love. It."
That night, I let him cum when we were on the phone.
I had off from work on Friday. While my daughter was down for her nap, I started looking at pictures of men in bondage and sharing some of them with Nick. I'm pretty sure that most mothers use naptime to fold laundry and watch shitty daytime television. I often use those hours of peace to look at porn and write erotica. The images were turning me on. Men bound in rope. A length of chain made into a collar and leash by connecting two links with a lock.
I realized that many of the more impressive rope photographs were from the same website, so I had a look at it. There were over a dozen trailers for videos featuring "edging" - a term I had never heard before, but it was easy to understand the meaning of the word.
I was in awe. I was inspired. I was insanely aroused. This man would take men - some straight, some gay or bi, it didn't matter - and tie them up and tease them mercilessly for hours, keeping them on edge, so close to orgasm, making them beg for release, making them wait.
I have always loved teasing, but never did it so aggressively as what I watched in those videos.
I spent a good amount of time on Saturday watching more of the trailers and wishing Nick's face was between my thighs. I watched some rope videos and practiced a new tie.
It must have been very challenging to be proficient at kink before the era of the Internet.
While I was writing about our encounter the week before, he texted me.
"Your pussy and my face have a date." Mmm.
We considered trying a different hotel. The one he called said that their televisions couldn't be hooked up to a DVD player so he decided to go back to our usual spot and try for the same room.
Again, I put my jacket on with no shirt beneath. I have on my black lace corset, and I even left the top couple of buttons of my jacket open. I stop at the mall because I want to buy a new pair of stockings. As I walk through the crowd of shoppers, I am hyper-aware of the fact that I'm wearing lingerie, and nothing else, beneath my jacket, on my way to buy some sexy thigh-highs. I think of how there is probably not a single person in that shopping mall who would look at me and ever think that would be the case. When I pay for a pack of AA's at the convenience store, I wish I had an excuse to lean forward and let the man behind the counter see the lace beneath my jacket.
I get a text from him as I'm driving to the hotel: 117. This has become our room. Somehow, there is this twisted kind of charm to meeting at this dive every weekend. It's kind of hard to explain, but it keeps us coming back even though there are easily a dozen hotels on this stretch of Route 1, within minutes of here.
There is this song that I started hearing recently on the radio, by this band called The Wombats. First time I heard it, as I listened to the first few lines, it made me think of us in our trashy hotel room, and I fell in love with the song instantly.
"What a great achievement it was to get a hotel room this late. I bet they charge by the hour here, the kind of place where you should bring your own UV ray."
Home sweet home.
In the room, he tasks me with setting up the DVD player. I plug everything in. The DVD player won't turn on.
Can this really be happening? Every single week, it's the same fiasco, with slightly different circumstances. This week's obstacle is a half-dead wall outlet.
I pull out the couch so that we can use the other outlet, and he moves the TV to the other side of the dresser. This week's feature film is Preaching to the Perverted. I smile as I check out the soft plastic sleeve that slips over the DVD case. Nick had told me about the cover - designed to look like one of those black hoods with eye holes and a mouth hole that zips closed. The case is what caught his eye at the record store when he bought it.
As the movie starts, I remove my jacket and my jeans and take out my stockings. They are black thigh-highs, and the fabric at the top has little gromets on the back so that you can lace them up with a little black ribbon.
I sit on the edge of the bed putting them on. "These laces are kind of a pain in the ass. I don't like these as much as the others."
"I like them."
Of course he likes them. I like to put them on in front of him because after the first night we spent together, he told me that he was trying not to be obvious about watching me put them on.
"Do my straps." He attaches the garter straps to my stockings and corset. I lay face down on the bed, my head at the foot of the bed so that I can watch the movie. He has stripped down to a white tee shirt and boxers. The first thing he does every time we meet is take off his pants and lock up his cock in the "gates of hell," then ask me if I have the key. One of these days, I'll tell him no.
He climbs onto the bed next to me, positioning himself near the headboard. I know what he's doing.
I watch him in the mirror that's over the dresser. He looks down at my stockinged legs and smiles. He touches my new thigh highs, and a few minutes later I feel his hand on my panties.
"I love your ass."
I smile, and he lays down next to me. I'm looking at the TV screen but I can feel him looking at me, so I turn to him and ask, "What?"
"Nothing," he smiles. I touch my head to his shoulder and then turn back to the movie. Maybe he wants me to tell him to get dressed...
As we watch the movie, we start sliding our legs against each other's - I'm not sure who started it. I glance up at the reflection of my black stockinged feet touching his bare legs.
As always happens, Nick gets kind of restless, and ends up getting dressed during the movie before I have a chance to give him the order. And, as usual, I miss the ending of the movie because I want to kiss him and touch him and have my pussy licked.
I love when he licks me. Then he uses the vibrator, his mouth on my neck and breasts, and gives me a gasping, neck arching, hands grabbing, mind blanking orgasm.
I kiss his mouth. "Lick my pussy."
He licks me clean. When I have had enough, I sit up and pull him close, kissing him and running my hands over his skin, my fingers playing with the skimpy shoulder straps and neckline of his slip. I turn my face and look around, considering. He waits quietly.
I speak softly. "I'm thinking of how I'd like to tie you down. Do you want me to tie you down?"
I crawl to the corner of the bed, delighted at what I see when I look down over the edge. "Oh, sweet, a bed frame! Usually hotel beds are on a platform."
"What's that mean?"
"That I can tie you down to the bed." Excited, I go over to where I left my bag on the couch and pull out 3 lengths of rope.
As I unwind a length, I tell him to lay on his back. Grabbing the rope near the center, I make two loops, twisting each a couple of times, then pull the two loops over his hand and snug the twisted ends into a kind of knot before wrapping the two running ends of rope around his hand once and knotting them in his palm. The purpose of this type of tie is to take some of the pressure off of the sub's wrists when they are tied up for a flogging. Even though I had no flogging in mind, as I watched the "flogging cuff" video I loved the look of the man's fingers wrapping around the rope that was knotted in his palm, the ends going up between his thumb and pointer finger toward where they would be tied to something. I wanted to use this type of cuff to tie him down to the bed so that he could grab the rope and pull.
And then, when I was watching those edging clips, I saw a man tied down to the bed in a similar way and knew that I had to try it.
Once his wrists and hands are bound to the metal bed frame, I take a couple of minutes to look at what I've done. Of course, the power of having someone tied down and completely vulnerable has its charm, but all of that aside, the simple look of the rope wrapped around his hands just turns me on. It's beautiful and sexy as hell. I kiss his wrist and his palm. Suck on a finger. And then I go to the end of the bed and tie his right ankle, run the rope over to the edge and under the mattress to the other side, then bind his left ankle.
I am aware of all of the small movements he is making, testing his restraints, as I climb back onto the bed. I move my hands across the silky material of the slip. My forearm accidentally brushes against his cock, and I realize that the panties are damp with precum. As I glide my palms up and down his stockings, his legs twitch.
"You want me to touch your cock so badly, don't you. You want to cum so bad."
I continue to caress his legs and feet through the nylons, and then I pull down his panties. I straighten his garter belt and follow the lines of the straps with my fingers.
"I'm going to unlock you now. But that doesn't mean that you get to cum."
I keep the key to his cage on my key ring. Throughout the week, whenever I notice that it's there among the car and house keys, it gives me a little thrill. Such a small key, but it means so much. As I remove the lock and struggle to pull the harness off of his hard cock without hurting him, I think to myself that he is probably really surprised. He is usually locked up right until I want him to cum.
I swipe the precum off the tip of his cock with my finger and slide the tip of my finger between his lips. He tries to sit up to kiss me. I place my hand near his collarbone to push him back onto the bed, and kiss him. Pulling his slip aside, I tease one of his nipples, then the other, first with tiny flicks of my tongue, then sucking and pinching them between my lips.
When I move my attention back to his cock, it is erect, hovering over his stomach, a strand of precum running from the tip of his dick to his stomach. I stare at it for a few moments, so sexy, and then I wrap my hands around him, severing the delicate strand. My tongue swipes over the sticky spot on his tummy and then I take the head of his cock into my mouth.
I love the way that his body reacts when I finally, mercifully make direct contact with his erection after all of the teasing. The gasp of surprise, the small movements of his hips and legs, the feeling of his hard cock becoming even harder between my lips.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I fucking love giving head. If my jaw didn't get so tired that it becomes too weak to continue, I'd suck cock for hours, I swear. I love the way it feels - the skin so soft, ridged with veins, and the way that it throbs when a man is about to cum inside of your mouth. I love looking up at his face while my lips are wrapped around his cock, hearing him moan, feeling his hand in my hair - not tonight, obviously, since Nick's hands are tied.
I wrap my hand around the base of Nick's cock and move my mouth and hand up and down a little faster when he starts to move his hips. Abruptly, I sit back.
"Not yet." I give him some time for the cum boiling in his balls to reduce to a simmer. Holding his head down by his hair, I kiss him again. His mouth is hungry.
"You have such a beautiful cock," I murmur, touching his legs again. I begin to stroke him, building him back up, at times keeping my hand still to watch him buck his hips and fuck my hand, knowing that he will move at a pace to bring himself the most pleasure, making the orgasm build again.
And when I think that he is getting close, I pull my hand away, grinning wickedly as I watch his hips continue to move, fucking the air like a horny little dog for a few moments until his sex-crazed brain registers that the stimulation is gone.
"You want to cum so bad, don't you, Nick? Your cock is so hard, your balls are so full." I repeat the process of ignoring his cock just enough that he creeps back from the verge, but not so much that his cock softens. Kissing him, nipping at his skin, sucking on his nipples.
My eyes fall on the vibrator on the corner of the mattress. I grab it and kneel between his legs.
"Look at that big hard cock. So beautiful," I croon, pushing buttons on the toy, trying to figure out how to make it simply vibrate. There is such a thing as a sex toy with too many features, and I feel like my grandmother trying to work a fucking DVD player. I have a moment of slight panic, afraid that my struggle with this stupid thing is going to kill the mood, but then it starts making that familiar, low buzz.
Toy humming, I touch it to his balls, and then move the clit stimulator up and down his cock. I pause, pressing it against the tip.
"Do you want me to put you in the dress and fuck you?"
"Such a slut. Tell me what you want."
"I want you to fuck me."
I turn off the vibrator and begin to suck on him in earnest, bringing him close to orgasm. I pause, letting him move his cock in and out of my mouth, and when my jaw tires I sit up and stroke him with my hand.
"You're so close. You're going to cum."
And then I let go, and once more he is left humping air.
I giggle. "Oh, you want to cum so bad, don't you?"
"Well, I'm going to fuck you first." I make short work of unbinding his ankles. The rope makes a soft whirring sound as it slides against itself. Then I loosen the knots around his hands and wrists. "Put your dress on."
I find the dildo and my harness while he pulls on the french maid outfit. He stands with his back to me so I can zip him up.
"Keep your dick hard while you're waiting for me. But don't you dare cum." I slip on the harness, positioning the base of the vibrator over my clit. Standing at the edge of the bed, I say, "Bring your ass down here." I flip up the cap and pour lube into my palm. As I rub it over my strap-on cock, he gets into position on elbows and knees, face down.
"Tell me you own me."
Smiling, I rub my slippery fingers over his asshole, sliding one inside. "Yes, I fucking own you. I own this ass. I own your cock. I own your cum."
I position the dildo. "Show me that you want me to fuck you." He pushes back as I press forward. I love the way it feels when he opens up and the dildo sinks completely inside of him until the front of my thighs are pressing into the backs of his.
When he groans, it makes my pussy tingle. I turn on the vibration, grab his hips, and begin thrusting. Looking down, the sight of the dildo pulling out is a rush.
"I love fucking you, Nick. I love owning you."
"Yes, Goddess. Thank you." He presses back and I grind against him, the vibrations stimulating my clit.
"You're such a slut with your dress hiked up. Getting fucked like a whore, wearing your stockings and your heels."
"Tell me you own me."
"I own you. This ass is mine. And I get to decide how and when you cum tonight."