My Saturday Night: Making Him Begbyhoney28©
This is the fourth story in my journal, about my current relationship. I give tease and denial another crack, and I think that I do a MUCH better job than the weekend before. Practice makes perfect... and I intend to keep practicing.
This story contains, among other things, femdom, rope bondage, cross-dressing, a ton of dirty dialogue, and of course, tease and denial. oh, and begging. mmm. And then, when I was feeling merciful, I let him fuck me ;)
It's funny, the way that your entire view of the world can shift. At work one morning, I saw a black dog collar left on the counter near our table, and it turned me on. No, I'm not into bestiality! Nick has one just like it, that he wears when we're doing our thing. And when one of the guys from another department brought it over to me that afternoon, proud of himself, thinking that we had been looking for it, well... I had to bite my tongue. I admit, I have had a silly little crush on this guy since I met him, and he shares my dirty sense of humor. I almost told him that I left it there because I wanted him to wear it for me.
If you have read the other stories, you know that Nick and I are into femdom, but the dynamic between us isn't always typical D/s.
One night, about an hour after we got off the phone, I was surprised to get a text. "Taunt me."
"I thought you were sleeping."
"So what are you doing texting me to taunt you? God. The demanding submissive. You're a fucking enigma."
"Yes, I know... but I am good at licking your pussy."
"Yes, I know."
The demanding submissive and the compassionate domme. I guess we're the freaks of the freaks.
This past week, we played our no-cumming-till-we're-together-but-let's-tease-each-other-crazy game. I had to laugh on Friday morning when I got this message: "My tongue... your clot." Then, "My tongue your clit."
"You need to turn off autocorrect before it kills the mood. You're trying to be sexy and your phone makes it creepy."
"I know, but it is funny. I am sure it is a fetish for someone." Ugh. He's probably right!
Friday evening, I texted Nick that I was going to my friend Hannah's house and wouldn't be able to have our long nightly chat.
At Hannah's, I arrived with ice cream and a chick flick and we parked our asses on the living room couches. As always, the conversation turned to sex. She calls me her KBF: kinky best friend. I wrote a fictional story for her, "Pleasing Hannah," inspired by a conversation that we had at Ruby Tuesdays over dinner one night. [It's a BDSM story, femdom, some girl-on-girl, check it out.]
"So, the other night, I took out that lingerie, you know, the one I showed you that time?"
I grinned. "I told you! I'm taking full credit for this, even though it really wasn't my doing."
She laughed. "You should tell Rob, 'You're welcome,' when he comes home. He won't have a clue what you're talking about."
Giggling, I asked, "Don't you feel so much better now that you're having sex again?"
"Yeah," she admitted. "Afterwards, I was like, why did we wait so long to do this?"
"See, I told you once you got back into it you'd wonder why you ever fell into that slump. You guys should try to be more open with each other about fantasies. Think about it. Ever since you and I started talking so honestly about sex, we are so much closer."
"If only you had a penis..."
A pause. "Well, I do. You know that. I've got a few, actually." I can't continue without grinning.
"Okay. Let me rephrase. If only you had a penis and no vagina."
"In all seriousness though, what is the worst thing that could happen? He's your husband, he's the one you're supposed to be able to talk with about these things. This is the person who is supposed to see your dark, your ugly, all your imperfections, and love you anyway. As long as you agree that you won't judge each other if one of you says something the other isn't into... Think of all the fun you could have. And think of how much stronger your relationship would be."
"Of telling him what you really want? Or are you more afraid of what he might secretly want?"
"I'm afraid of what he might say."
"Well, just think about it."
My phone rang. I couldn't help smiling when I saw his name on my screen.
I answer. "Hey, what's up?"
"Can you talk?"
"Well I'm at Hannah's, so it would be kind of rude for me to sit here on the phone. I can talk for a minute."
"What are you doing?"
"Watching a movie called 'People Like Us.'"
"Oh, shit, this car is going to hit me." I hear strange muffled sounds and then get disconnected. I stare at my phone, my mind racing. Is he fucking with me? Did I hear him wrong?
Almost 3 years ago, a friend of mine was killed in a car accident. Crazy shit happens. I was trying not to think the worst.
I called him back after a couple of minutes, knowing that if he was able, he would have called me alraedy, but I didn't know what else to do. Voicemail. "I need you to call me back."
As I mentioned in the last "story," Nick's last girlfriend passed away from cancer. Life is short. Losing someone close to you - especially someone young, "before their time" - makes you appreciate the wisdom in that old cliche. There is nothing more important than surrounding yourself with people who love you for who you are. So when you find someone who you can be completely honest with, who understands you and loves you, knowing all the good and the bad, well, you have to hold onto that.
Finally, he called back.
"Are you okay? What the hell happened?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's no big deal."
I stood up and walked back to the kitchen. "Well I didn't know that! On my end, I hear you say, 'This car is going to hit me!' and then the phone goes dead. I was getting nauseous waiting for you to call back. Jesus fucking Christ!"
As I paced back and forth, he explained that while he was walking the dog, a car lost control and bumped him after he pulled the dog out of the way. We spoke for a few more minutes, then I went back out to watch the movie with my friend.
Near the end of the movie, I got a text message. Every time I hear that familiar blip that lets me know I received a text, that silly little girl in my head gets excited thinking that it may be Nick. And it was him, a picture, actually. Of his hard cock tenting a pair of black panties.
The next morning, he called to ask me a question and we ended up talking for a few hours, as though making up for the night before. Sex came up a lot during the course of the phone call, which is the norm.
"What if you tie me up and have me lick your pussy?"
"Now I'm thinking of you kneeling with your hands behind your back."
"Yes. Or how about you tie me down on my back and put the strap-on on me, and get on top of me and fuck yourself in the ass with it?"
Mmm. We had talked about this the night prior. My hand wandered between my legs and I teased myself lightly while I listened to his voice. I know, I'm not allowed to cum! I didn't, so it isn't really cheating. We agreed, no orgasm until we see each other.
Several hours later, he texted me a picture of his hand holding up the side of his slip to show me his panties.
"My little slut," I replied.
Then, finally, it is time to meet. They put us in 117 again, so there is no television-related drama this week. Tonight's feature: Personal Services, a Monty Python-esque British film about a woman who get's into the professional D/s scene, inspired by true events.
I get changed into my lingerie while the movie starts, and he locks himself in the "gates of hell" chastity device. Our usual routine. After pulling on my fishnet thigh-highs, I stand by the edge of the bed. "Help me with my straps?"
When I feel his fingers attaching the garter straps to my stockings, it feels so comfortable, and intimate, and sexy. Of course, wearing lingerie for any man is erotic, but knowing that he has a lingerie fetish makes wearing it around him even more of a turn-on.
I lay back on the pillows, crossing my legs at the ankle, and Nick lays down perpendicular to me, his face near my thighs. I watch as he reaches out to run his fingers across my stockings, his chin resting on a pillow, his nose just inches from my legs as he studies them.
"You can lay your head on my legs if you want to," I smile. He rests the side of his face against my stockinged legs and we watch the movie.
On the screen, there is a scene in a diner, focusing on the waitresses' conversation. A heavyset man pulls up in an expensive car and as he enters the diner, one waitress announces, "BCSD!"
Just as I wonder to myself, 'Am I supposed to know what that means?' Nick asks, "Do you know what BCSD is?"
"Big car small dick."
"Oh, ok," I laugh.
"I have a small car."
"Yes, you do have a small car."
"Know what that means?"
"That you don't spend a lot on gas."
He laughs and gets up off the bed to go over to the table where he had set down his laundry basket of sissy clothing. After a few minutes of rifling through the basket, he pulls out his garter belt and stretches it out between his hands, waggling it back and forth.
"Do you want me to get dressed?"
"If you want to."
"It's up to you. I don't make the decisions."
"We were just watching the movie, so I wasn't in a hurry. But I know you want to get dressed, so get dressed." I turn onto my side to face him, making a point to stare blatantly at him while he changes - not only because I like watching him, but also because it will make him self-conscious. After he pulls off his boxers, he steps into the garter belt, and I watch him pick out panties, pull them on, then back off again, changing his mind.
"Take off your shirt." He pulls his shirt off over his head, keeping his back to me, and I smile. "You have such a cute little ass. I love it even more because I own it." A moment later, he pulls on a pair of black panties that barely contain the bulge of his caged cock. He lays out two slips on the bedspread.
"Which one should I wear?"
"I never saw you in the one with the white lace before. You always wear the all black one with the ripped strap that's tied on, like a cheap slut. Wear the one with the white."
After he pulls the slip over his head, I giggle at him, because this slip has a more generous bust than the other. "You've got no tits to fill out that one." God, do I have fun teasing him, knowing how much the humiliation turns him on.
He lays on his back next to me, and I reach out to touch the black silky material, sliding my hand over his stomach and chest, running a finger under the white lace at the neckline. Caressing the side of his face, I kiss his neck and shoulders, breathing him in. He smells so good that I lay like that for a few minutes, my face pressing against him.
After a time, I turn my attention back to the movie. It is hard to concentrate when he starts touching my legs, and his fingers lightly rub my pussy through my panties. When a pair of women are collaring a man in the film, I take Nick's collar and buckle it around his neck, then clip on the leash.
Before the end of the film, my impatience wins out. I turn to him and we kiss. His kisses become more urgent, suddenly I'm on my back and he pulls away to move between my legs. I know that he wants to lick my pussy, but I grab his leash to stop him.
He lies back down next to me and speaks softly. "I'm sorry. I get carried away."
As he apologizes, the thought crosses my mind that he may be looking for a "punishment." But I've got to be honest with him. I kiss him, and say, "I like when you get carried away. I just wanted to go a little slower tonight."
I kiss his mouth, slowly tease his tongue with mine, and he is much more passive now.
"Kiss my neck," I murmur, rolling onto my back. I grab onto his hair as his lips press against my neck, nearly giving me shivers. Encouraged by the sounds that escape my throat, he sucks harder on the sensitive area below my ear, and though I don't want to, I whisper, "Take it easy." I'd rather not have a huge mark. But it feels so good...
I quickly pull my arms out of the straps of my bustier. "Suck on my tits." As his hot mouth latches on to my nipple, my fingers clutch at his hair and his collar. I feel waves of pleasure over my clit, and when I can no longer stand it, I tell him to lick my pussy.
He pulls off my panties and buries his face between my legs, licking and sucking on my clit. When I tell him to, he slides two fingers inside of me and presses against my G-spot as his tongue flickers over my clit.
"Yes, lick me. Lick my pussy." I grip his hair tighter with one hand, the other holds the leash.
I am vaguely aware of the whimpering, breathy sounds that I am making as he goes down on me with the determination of an olympic athlete. Would it be more appropriate to use "competitive eater"? That feels like a much naughtier and suitable comparison...
I can tell by the way he is breathing that he will need a break soon to catch his breath, but his tongue feels so amazing that I just roll my hips, grind my pussy against his face, and hold his head between my thighs, focusing on the pleasure.
When he eventually lifts his head, breathing heavy, I let go. I lay there, panting myself, watching him. He is now standing at the foot of the bed in the dim light, a collar with a leash hanging from his neck, a skimpy slip on his masculine frame, the tops of his stockings visible on his thighs, and he is all business as he rubs lube on the shaft of a vibrator.
He looks like he takes my orgasms very seriously. As well he should.
I gasp as the toy slides inside of me, and moan when I feel the little clit stimulator make contact. He lays against my side, holding the vibrator inside of me while he uses his mouth on my neck and breasts. Moving my hips, I moan, "You're going to make me cum." And soon, I'm sailing over the waves of an intense orgasm, gasping for breath.
"Lick my pussy," I whisper. After a few minutes of his face between my thighs, I tug on his leash. "Lay down so that I can tie you up. On your back."
After hooking my arms back through my straps, I grab the rope, wrap it around his wrists and palms and tie him to the bed frame like I did last weekend. It turns me on to look at his bound hands and wrists, and the way his muscles tense when he pulls at the rope.
Lying down beside him, I run my hand up and down his stomach, the silky black material sliding across his skin. "You love how it feels when I touch you through your lingerie."
"Yes," he murmurs.
My hand moves lower, over his panties and upper thigh. When I touch his inner thigh, the back of my hand grazes his balls, which are barely covered by the panties. I sit up so that I can touch his legs.
"You look so sexy in your stockings. And they feel so nice," I tell him, slowly running my hands down his calves, kissing the top of his foot, then making my way back up his legs with kisses and caresses.
His body gives a little jump when I take his balls in my hand, massaging them. "Look at these big, full balls, filled with cum," I tease. I hook my fingers beneath the waistband, pull his panties down his thighs and smile when I see how hard he is, his cock straining, bulging between the metal rings of the chastity device, with the leather straps around his balls and running up the shaft, connecting the rings.
The head of his cock is swollen and dripping. I swipe up the precum with the tip of my tongue, and I hear a sharp intake of breath when I wrap my lips around the head of his cock. As I suck him, he starts to move his hips. I pull away before he gets too close.
"You want to cum so bad. You've been waiting all week." I lay beside him, running my hand up and down his stomach again, enjoying the softness of the slip sliding across his skin. I lift the hem and drape the slip over his cock and balls, caressing him through the silky material. I stroke the head of his cock, then rub my thumb over the tip and feel wetness seep through the slip.
As I stroke and caress him through the lingerie, I continue to tease him in a low voice. "I own you. I own your cock. I own your orgasm." I also tell him how much I fucking love that he leaks constantly when I'm teasing him. He is so hard, and making sounds like he is getting close.
I pull my hand away and kiss his arm, his neck, and chest. Pulling the lace aside, I tease one of his nipples, sucking on it and pinching it between my lips. I use my mouth on his other nipple, and then I move my face lower, kissing his stomach, letting the fabric slip off of his cock. Sucking on his cock head, I rub my palm over his balls and pull on them gently. I use my lips and tongue on the skin of his shaft that is visible between the leather straps.
I suck hard on the tip of his cock as he begins to thrust his hips, and then, abruptly, I let go.
"You want to fuck me so bad, don't you?"
"Yes, Goddess," he pants.
I look up at him as I slide my hand across his abdomen, down his hip, over his thighs. "You dressed up for me. You locked your cock up for me. You made me cum." I speak sweetly, looking up at the tortured expression on his face. "But I'm not letting you cum yet. I'm so mean."
I move up so that I can touch his arms and chest. I fucking love looking at his arms as he pulls, and seeing the rope wrapped around his wrists. "You want me to put that strap-on harness on you and use your body to make myself cum again. While your cock is caged and useless."
Lying beside him, I pull the slip down over his cock again and start teasing him with my hand. "You love the way this feels, don't you, when I stroke your cock with the slip."
"I own you. This cock is mine. And this ass is mine."
"You want me to put you in a dress and fuck your ass, don't you?"
"You're leaking through the slip again."
All this teasing has got my pussy so wet, which gives me an idea, a way that I have not teased his cock before. I straddle him and lean forward to kiss him. He is so worked up, his mouth frantically meets mine, and I grab him by the hair to hold his head down on the bed while I kiss him.
I grab the bra cup of my bustier and pull it down. His hungry mouth sucks hard on my nipple, making me groan, sending bolts of pleasure straight to my pussy.
"Let go," I mutter, moving my body lower on his. I reach down to pull the slip out of the way, grab the tip of his cock, and press it against my clit.
"Feel how wet I am? Fuck, that feels good." As we move, his cock bumps against my clit. I reach down again, moving his cock a little lower, and the head slips inside of me.
"You wish you could fuck me. You want to fuck me so bad," I breathe. I look down at his face, his eyes are closed, mouth open, and I lean in to kiss him. He is thrusting his hips beneath me, trying to fuck me, though only the head of his cock is free to slide in and out of my wet pussy. It feels so good, I want to feel more of him inside of me, and I know that this is infinitely more torturous for him.
I bite his lip and climb off of him.
"Please," he whispers.
Standing next to the bed, I take a drink. "Are you thirsty?" He nods and holds himself up as best as he can, being tied down as he is, so that I can hold the bottle to his lips. It's very dimly lit in here and I can't see if he's getting anything, and nearly drown the poor guy.
"Sorry," I laugh. Crossing the room, I retrieve my keys. "I'm going to unlock you. But you aren't going to cum yet." I unlock and unbuckle the device, pulling it off and setting it aside with my keys. After I slide his panties down and drop them to the floor, I wrap my fist around his cock, feeling the indentations from the metal rings, watching him grow to full hardness in my hand.