The Surprise

"So, whacha doin'?" cooed the voice in my ear. I knew that tone. Elizabeth became the next best thing to a siren when she wanted something, or had something special on her mind. Special, of course, meaning some new sex thing or another she'd gotten out of one of her women's magazines. Or else, it was something we done before that she'd found herself missing the feel, scent, sound, or taste of.

Hey, what can I do? If I knew she had these hedonistic tendencies when I married her, we'd have been engaged three weeks instead of three years.

"Me? I'm not doin' nuthin'" I told her, then I covered the phone and mouthed to my secretary to leave us for a bit. Helen nodded, giving that little knowing smile, straightening out her dress and adjusting her stockings as she stood up. She stopped in the doorway and motioned to the lock. Oh yes, I nodded and winked at her. Helen locked the door and went back to the receptionist desk.

"Ya wanna be doin' somethin'?" came Elizabeth's next breathy question. I smiled, picturing her strewn across the divan in my study, something pornographic playing on the widescreen...probably some incense burning on the mantle. Her long, blonde hair would be splayed behind her head, falling across her shoulders and just barely lying along the edges of ample cleavage showing from within a slightly too small bit of lingerie, under a barely there silk robe I bought her for one of our anniversaries.

Which anniversary is silk anyways? Oh well, I forget. 'Sides, that's what search engines are for, or personal assistants, like Helen.

"Mmm," I said, playing along, "something special in mind, or is it a surprise?" I was crossing my fingers and knocking on the desk for surprise. Does knocking on particle board count? I mean, it looks nice enough, and is a pretty sturdy desk...has certainly held me and whoever up on numerous occasions...but it's not made of solid wood by any stretch of the imagination.

Elizabeth, however, knew how to stretch an imagination further and farther than anyone I'd ever heard of, let alone someone I actually knew. She answered, "Yes." I laughed and she giggled in my ear. The sound sent a thrill through my brain and right down my spine. My very toes tingled.

The rest of the day was almost superfluous. I had meetings, spoke when I needed to, and listened the rest of the time, but my thoughts were miles away. I'll just read Helen's minutes later on. She's a very capable assistant, after all.

Driving home, I thought I'd managed to get away with missing the afterwork gridlock, but no such luck. Sitting in the slow moving sea of cars, I listened to something sensual and instrumental on the disc player. Not sure what it was, just an easy, bluesy, jazzy thing to put me even more in the mood. The last time Elizabeth had said she had a surprise, it had been her and Helen waiting for me on the bigger than king-sized bed we had in our playroom.

They'd been dressed in soft silks and wearing stiletto-heeled shoes, their legs covered in simply scrumptious looking fishnets. That had been a double surprise. I hadn't known she'd been aware of Helen's interest in me (and vice versa), nor had I pictured Helen as Elizabeth's type.

Upon reaching home, I opened the door of our condo quietly and stepped into the foyer. No sign of anything right away. No visual sign, I should say. There was a scent in the air that eluded me at first, but then I placed it. It was that sort of odd odor that you find in a new car, or on opening a box full of that bubble wrap stuff they used for protecting things.

The smell of rubber. Freshly exposed to air, never been used for much of anything.

Intrigued, I made my way into the place. I peeked my head into the living room, then walked by and did the same to the dining room. There I found a small sign. It had obviously been made on the computer upstairs, and was taped to a clothes hanger that was dangling from the chain to the overhead light and fan combo that was centrally located above the table.

"Come out to the garage," was all it said, although it did have a large stylized capital E on it as a signature. I smiled and headed that way, pausing just long enough to remove my coat and jacket. I draped them over one of the dining room chairs and slipped into the kitchen.

As I put my hand on the knob of the door leading to the garage, I notice it also had a sign. "Stop. Turn around. Bring one of the packages on the counter with you. (No peeking.)"

I paused. A little sigh escaped my lips as I looked at the packages as instructed. "'Curiouser and curiouser'...what game are we playing today?" I mumbled aloud to myself.

The packages seemed identical. They all appeared to be a pencil box doctored up with a kind of batik surface on top of which sat a similarly decorated bucket. Inside the bucket was a number of bottles, jars, and small objects wrapped in crepe paper that coordinated with the batik. Elizabeth certainly seemed to be going all out.

I took the blue one. It seemed a friendly shade, and wasn't the sort of colour I tended to choose off the bat. Even without knowing what was going on, I was trying to outthink Elizabeth.

It seemed heavy in my hands, which I knew was just the anxiety of the moment speaking, but I took box and pail and once more approached the door to the garage. It opened just as easily as always, which meant that it moved with no problem for about 30 degrees and then made a thin, highpitched squeal of a squeek that echoed in my ears as it launched itself into the darkness before me.

"'Lizabeth?" I called out. "Are you here? I have the blue package, if it makes a difference."

There was no immediate answer. Then, with no warning, a blue spotlight came on from the rafters. It fell a short distance ahead of me, illuminating a big, padded chair of the kind you might find in a barbershop or dentist's office. The rest of the garage had been cleared out...either to somewhere else, or away from the center of the room...leaving a wide open space that a large rubber tarp had been spread out upon.

The chair was in the middle of the groundcloth, right in the hottest part of the spotlight. "Have a seat," said a warm, familiar voice from out of the dark. "Take off your pants first," Elizabeth added as I'd gone to sit down.

I still wasn't sure what was going on, but I played along. I had to. Elizabeth isn't the only one who gets into games like this. Slowly, I undid my belt and then unfastened my slacks. First the right and then the left, I kicked off my penny loafers and eased the material down my hips and thighs. I could feel the goosebumps rising as I stripped off my pants completely. Looking down, I realized they weren't the only things to have risen.

My cock was almost hard. It lay inside my briefs, the tip making a damp spot where the fabric brushed against it. With every movement I made, every second of even the slightest of motions under the unseen eyes of Elizabeth and who knows who else, I was getting harder and harder.

I finished with my slacks and kicked them off towards the shadowy edge of the spotlight's circle. Turning to sit on the chair, as ordered, I was stopped by the same voice. "Underwear too," they said, and I smiled thinking of the look Elizabeth undoubtedly had on her face at that moment.

"As you wish," I said. I stepped up to the hot spot for the light, and rotated my hips a little bit. Hooking my fingers in the waistband, I considered whether to inch them down a little at a time, but then decided to just go for it. In one swift motion, I dropped to a crouch, dragging the briefs down, and then straightened back up, releasing them, and stepping out of them. Kicking those aside as well, I again turned to the chair and sat back on it.

The stillness in the shadows waffled slightly as my cock had come into view, and now actually broke with low murmured hmmms and soft giggles mixed with the sound of hungry tongues licking their way across wanton lips. I tried to ignore it, even though it confirmed that Elizabeth was not here by herself. That knowledge, however, made me squirm a bit in the chair and my cock lifted itself even more out of my lap.

Elizabeth came out of the shadows at that point and picked up the blue box. Opening it, she drew forth a blindfold. It was one of those shade things people wear to not be bothered by ambient light in the morning when the sun comes up. She smiled and beckoned me to lean forward and slipped it over my eyes. I could feel her breath against my neck and cheek as she whispered,"Having fun yet?"

Laughing lightly, I wrapped my hand around my shaft and gave it a long, lingering stroke down to its base and back up again. "Looks like," I said. I sensed Elizabeth moving away and heard the sound of paper being ripped. More of my package, I thought, and listened more intently for clues as to what was coming.

"Oh my," came Elizabeth's voice in my ear. "That does look like fun. In fact, I'd say that was more my kind of fun." Her nails touched me just above the elbow and ran down my forearm to my wrist. There, her fingers spread out and took hold of my hand, removing it from my cock, and setting it upon the chair's arm. She moved my other hand to a similar position and I heard the soft rustling of fabric rubbing against itself, then a hot breath above the head of my cock and the slow descent of a mouth over my cock...tongue and lips caressing my shaft as they moved farther and farther down. I sighed and rolled my hips.

Elizabeth had been practicing again.

I went to move my hands to her hair, but was stopped by hers resting themselves upon mine. I paused; distracted by the way she'd begun to bob her head. My entire length would be enveloped by mouth and then released almost totally...her lips closing about the tip and sucking at it before engulfing me once more.

Absently, I heard more paper ripping and then a sort of vibrant tear...almost like cloth, but different...hesitant...like the fabric had some resistance to it. Another ripping, and then something cool and gel-like was laid upon my arms. "What?" I started to say.

"Shhh..." came Elizabeth's familiar voice, dark and husky sounding as it gets when she's really aroused. I relaxed for a moment...then realized she'd spoken from behind me while my cocked was being deepthroated again.

Who was this? My mind stepped back from the pleasure I was receiving and tried to think who of Elizabeth's friends she'd roped into this. Several appeared in my thoughts, but none that struck me as open enough for this sort of kink. All of her most likely accomplices were married, in the more traditional sense of the term, of course.

My attempts to solve the riddle were squashed by two things. Strips of cloth were suddenly being wrapped about my arms, binding me to the chair. (Later I realized it was a gaffer tape, which they'd wrapped about both my arm and the chair's, then attached it to itself. They did this after having lubed my forearms to prevent the usual sticking to skin and hair. And, a surprised female voice...much younger sounding than anyone I knew Elizabeth associate with...that said,"Ooooh, what did you have planned for this? Can I spray it on him?"

"Of course you can. And look in the bucket, there should be some other things to try."

"Mmm, butterscotch, that's one of my favorites." Then there came an aerosol-like sound and something cold began covering my crotch. The blowjob had continued, which meant there was at least two people here with Elizabeth, but now it paused and a hand began stroking me, keeping me hard as other things were placed upon my skin and my balls were sprayed down.

"Damn that's cold stuff," I muttered.

The young and perky voice giggled. "Quiet you, sundaes don't talk."

Elizabeth's laughter joined in and I couldn't help but chuckle as well. "This is Sarah. I'll let you have a proper introduction later on." I nodded and started to give a reply, but just moaned as the third person kneaded my crotch...massaging my balls and using the butterscotch topping to ease their finger in my asshole. "Yes, that's it. Enjoy your dessert." The fondling and fingering continued while the talented tongue returned to my shaft and slowly lapped away what I'd now figured out was whipped cream from one of those dairy case cans.

They slurped it up, dotting the surface of my cock with little nips as they ate me in a whole new way. My hips and thighs...heck, the entire lower half of my body...began to quiver and shake and thrust against the hand and mouth working me over. My arms flexed and I swore as I discovered just how much I wanted to put my hands on the head of whoever was between my legs. Elizabeth and Sarah both laughed once more, and the younger woman licked my left cheek and then kissed me...drawing back when my tongue sought out her mouth.

"Someone looks about to come, is that so?"

I tried to speak, but language had seemed to not be something I was fluent in any more. Instead, I grunted and tried to use my knees to nudge the third person into faster action. They got the gist of what I wanted, and began sucking hard while their fingers found my prostrate and jumpstarted everything.

Come erupted into the strange mouth, hot spurts mixed with what remained of the whipped cream's coolness and the sticky slickness of the butterscotch. I arched my back and howled. It had been a while since I'd had an orgasm like that, and I could feel my body tingle throughout every inch of it.

In the middle of the whole thing, I barely registered a cranking sound. Elizabeth had thrown the lever on the chair and dropped the back so that I was horizontal, then she and Sarah grabbed my legs, lifting and spreading them wide, hooking my ankles on some sort of restraint. I trembled anew as my body was still dealing with aftershocks, and my mind pondered what new surprise awaited me.

The touch of a well-known hand caressed my face as I lay there panting and trying to focus on something other than my dick and the fingers in my ass. Elizabeth lifted the eyeshade and drew it off over my head. I sighed and took in a deep breath. "You make a wonderful sundae," said a slim, blonde who stepped around to Elizabeth's side and rubbed her naked body against my wife's. Her eyes flickered down the length of my body where an athletic looking guy naked but for cock ring and leather collar about his neck was getting off his knees. He smiled at me, wiping whipped cream and butterscotch from his fingers, chin, and muscular chest.

Elizabeth ran her fingers through my hair. "This is Charles."

"Surprise."