Yo-yo Chronicles Ch. 01byedrider73©
Yo-yo Chronicles One: Two Peas in a Pod
Many thanks to bythewx for all her hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version.
Opposites attract. Whoever said that never met Jory and me.
I take that back. I can't even think of anyone else remotely like us, so the rule must be true. But we are the exception.
Sometimes our friends tease us about how similar we are, but it doesn't bother us at all. We are totally the same, like two peas in a pod. Whatever I like, she likes. We like the same books and the same movies. Politically, we have the same opinions. If I try something new at a restaurant and don't like it, I know she wouldn't like it either. If she tells me about a great new band she heard, I know I'm going to love it.
When we make love, it's like I'm making love to myself. If I try something new and like it, she likes it, too. And when she does something different and enjoys it, it usually drives me wild.
Not that there aren't differences between us. Jory is all woman, and I enjoy being her man. There's no gender confusion with us. She has a great body, slim and symmetric, except for her slightly oversized breasts. Her ass is small, round and perfect. I'm about eight inches taller than her and a lot more angular and muscular.
Most of her girlfriends are also hot. When she catches me looking at one of them occasionally, she kids me. She's also got a strong libido, and I sometimes see her eyes follow one of my friends or a well built guy working out at the club. I don't say anything, because I can't picture Jory cheating on me.
I never go beyond looking, and though occasionally a woman I meet through work comes on to me, I never flirt back or try anything. I've never seen Jory flirting either, but I'm sure guys come on to her when I'm not around. It doesn't matter because, as I said, I'm not jealous.
We do have different careers, but the bottom line is we're both in people type jobs. I'm on the road sometimes, but usually only a few days each month. I wouldn't take a job that kept me apart from Jory too long.
Another thing we have in common is that we like to surprise each other, especially for birthdays or anniversaries. We pretend that we are pushing each other out of our comfort zone, but we both know that if one of us likes the surprise, the other one is going to like it too.
About two weeks before my birthday this year, Jory told me she was working on an unusual surprise gift and that I needed to block out Saturday. Saturday was not my birthday, so I wondered what she needed me for. Her birthday is a couple of days after mine -- we are even the same sign -- and I had already picked out an unusual restaurant that was actually the kitchen of a farmhouse. The farmer's wife makes dinner for only two people and only one night a week, and almost everything is grown and picked from her garden that day. I was hoping that Jory hadn't heard about the place. I knew she would love it.
The doorbell rang Saturday morning, and when I answered it, Myra was standing there. Myra was one of the few of Jory's friends that I had never warmed up to. It wasn't because she was a butch lesbian; Jory had some other gay girlfriends that I got along great with, but she just rubbed me the wrong way. Any conversation I had with Myra sooner or later evolved into her complaining about men, putting men down or ridiculing men in general. Jory told me that when there were no men around, she was a lot different, but she had been abused by her father and it put a real chip on her shoulder.
Jory saw to it that Myra and I were usually not in the same room together, so I was a little surprised to see her there. She said "Hi" in her low, gruff voice and aded, "Jory's expecting me." She rudely pushed past me without even a smile.
Jory came out of the kitchen and said "Hi, Myra. You can go ahead and set up while I tell Ken what we're doing." Myra walked back out, stomping through the house in the men's boots she was wearing. Jory sat down on the couch and motioned for me to sit in the chair facing her.
"I got the idea for this present about a month ago," she said. "The surprise is today, but you won't receive the present until your birthday."
I looked at her puzzled, and she laughed.
"I'll explain everything," she said, "and it won't take too long because we have some things to do. This started the day after you came home from a four-day road trip. You were out running some errands, and I was cleaning in your office when I thought of something I needed to Google, and I saw your laptop open on your desk, so I sat down and started typing. But when I was clicking on the site, my hand slipped and by accident the pointer went to the top of the page, and I clicked on History. I started to close it, but then something caught my eye. You had been looking at 'Anal Housewives Dot Com.' I was surprised. I never knew you were interested in anal. You've never said anything to me about it, probably because I've mentioned how much it turned me off, and I just figured you felt the same."
"Stop, Jory!" I said. "I can explain."
"Wait, Ken, let me finish. I went to the website and browsed around. It was just as ugly and disgusting as I thought. Then I went back and looked at more of your history. You had visited a lot of different websites, and as I started checking them out, I couldn't believe how vile they were and how demeaning to women. There were videos of women doing things that were just plain sick. I wondered how low they could go, and as I went from site to site, I saw there was nothing too degrading for them to do. Of course, I knew they were getting paid for doing it, but I was still amazed.
"I began to think that I didn't know you at all. You know how we joke about how similar our tastes are? Well, this was a side of you that was completely different from the Ken that I know and love. Finally, I had to run to the bathroom and throw up."
"Stop, Jory," I said louder. I didn't like where this was going. "I'm the same person you know. It's just that when I'm on the road, well, you know how charged up I get when we can't get together for more than a few nights. If my road trip lasts more than two days, I need something. I never go down to the hotel bar looking for action, but I use my laptop to give me some relief. What you saw isn't the real me. It's a frustrated salesman who wishes he were back home making love to his beautiful wife."
"Oh, but it is the real you," said Jory. "It's just a different side of you than you've ever shown me. You didn't go to any sites where there were videos of loving couples having hot sex. I've seen those sites. But you chose videos that showed men doing the grossest things to women."
"But men don't go for those loving couple videos," I said. "You know that, Jory. Those are for women. Men are from Mars."
"Of course," she said, "it's just that I thought you were different, that you were more like me. But let me finish, because the real surprise in my story is still coming."
I wanted the discussion to end now. I wanted to get up and take her in my arms and tell her that I'd never watch those videos again since it obviously hurt her. But I sat silently and let her continue.
"Anyway, I closed the history on your laptop and went back to cleaning. My mind was all over the place. Should I tell you what I found out? How would you react? Would you accuse me of spying? Did you want to do those things with me? What kind of a person had I really married?
"I made a decision to put the whole thing out of my mind until the next day, and I pretty much succeeded until bedtime, when I had trouble falling asleep.
"But the next morning I woke up refreshed. You don't take your laptop to the office when you're in town, so after you left, I went to your office and clicked on your history. Everything was still there. I was much calmer now.
"Except for a break for lunch and some washing and shopping, I spent pretty much the whole day at your computer, checking out every site you'd been to for the last five months. I was wondering why you only visited the sites when you were on a business trip, but now that you've told me, I understand. At the time I figured you just didn't want to get caught. I didn't know your passwords, so I signed up for some of the sites. That's why our next Visa bill will have double charges for some of your sites. Or do you put them on a secret credit card that I don't know about? I never look at the Visa bill, because I trust you.
"Anyway, I watched just about everything you've been watching. Maybe not everything, but enough to where I felt I really understood what things turned you on."
"Stop, Jory," I said again.
"Let me finish, Ken," she said. "Here's the surprising thing. I didn't stop there. I went on to other sex sites that you had never been to. Every kind of site: gay, straight, bondage, domination, she-males, fetish, you name it. I saw men doing things to women and other men that freaked me out, and also I saw women doing the same things to men and other women. Something kept me going. You'll find out when you see the Visa bill. Or do you not check it either?
"After about a week of this, I stopped cold turkey because I was scaring myself. I realized, to my surprise, that even though I was still repelled by what I was watching, it also strangely fascinated me and even turned me on. I was interested in the same things as you, just as I always am. I didn't really know you, but I also didn't really know myself until I saw all that garbage.
"I was no longer upset with you. I accepted what I had learned about you and myself, and I moved on. I knew that I would never do any of the things that you were watching --
"And I don't want you to do them," I yelled. "Can't you understand, Jory."
"Let me finish, Ken. I knew that I would never do any of the things you were watching, but a few days after this, the subject of our birthdays came up and a lightbulb went on in my brain when I was trying to think of a surprise gift for you. I couldn't believe what I was thinking.
"What would be the most surprising gift that I could ever give you? One that would be personal and unique. One that you would treasure forever and yet one that you would never expect in a million years. I think I've found it.
"You know that Myra is a professional videographer. She does mostly weddings and birthday parties, but she told me sometimes couples hire her to do videos of them making love. I called her and hired her for today.
"But she is not going to shoot us making love. I've given her a script with a list of nine of the most demeaning and disgusting things I saw women do on your favorite sites. She's going to direct us, and I'm going to do every one of them with you. She's setting up a whole bunch of cameras to get the action from every angle, close up and far away, and she'll be using a steadicam attached to her body to get really close-up action.
"When we're done today, she'll take all the videos to her studio, edit them and add music to the soundtrack. For your birthday, I'll present you with the most exciting porno video you've ever seen. You can take it with you on all your trips from now on, although I've decided that I don't care anymore if you want to go to those sites."
I jumped up. "No," I yelled. "I don't want to do this. I don't want you degrading yourself. That's not how I think of you, Jory. I know you will hate every minute, and I'll hate myself for going along. We can't do this. It could destroy our marriage."
"Calm down, Ken. Our marriage isn't in danger. We know each other better than ever now, and we're still like two peas in a pod. You're right when you say I won't be enjoying this, but that's the idea. When you watch those girls, you can tell they hate it, even if they're smiling. They're only doing it for the money. Part of the excitement is seeing them degraded. I'll hate every second of it, but I'm doing it for you.
"I know I can't force you to do anything you don't want to do, so you'll have to decide. Myra should be almost done setting up the lights and the cameras in our bedroom by now. I have to pay her for her time today anyway. Tell me what your decision is."
She stopped talking and gazed at me intently. My mind was racing. Did she really want me to do this? We both knew this would be painful and disgusting for her. But she was the one who came up with the birthday surprise, and she had gone through all the trouble to plan it.
I looked at her. She was looking at me expectantly with a strange quizzical expression on her face. Suddenly, I became aware of a stirring between my legs. This was actually turning me on.
"OK," I said quickly. "But only if you promise me that you'll tell me to stop if it gets to be too much."
A loud sigh escaped from her lips. She looked at me with a pained expression, as if I'd failed some kind of test. "You know," she said, "as well as I know you, I really didn't know which way you'd decide."
I panicked. "I've changed my mind, Jory," I said. "The whole thing is off."
"No, no," she said. "I'm not disappointed in you." She didn't sound very sincere. "No, you've made your decision, and now I'm in charge. We're going upstairs to shoot some video." She started walking up to our bedroom. Halfway up, she turned around and saw me still standing there as if in a trance. She began waving her right arm, motioning me to follow her and didn't stop until I began walking toward the stairs.
Myra was adjusting different kinds of lights, tripods and cameras that were crowded into the bedroom when I got there. Some of the tripods were high in the air, almost to the ceiling, and some were so low that they were just above the height of the bed, where all of them were aimed.
"I'm ready," Myra said with no emotion in her voice.
Jory pulled off her sweats, bra and panties and sat down on the bed. After a moment of hesitation, I pulled off my T-shirt, shorts and underwear and sat down next to her. I saw Myra sizing me up, and for some reason I was embarrassed, although her opinion was the last one I'd ever care about.
"Here's how it's going to work," Jory said and waved a clipboard with a printout clipped to it. "Myra is going to read the instructions that I wrote out in a loud voice, so we both can hear her clearly, right Myra?" Myra nodded but said nothing.
"Each scene is timed for 15 minutes, so the 10 scenes could take as much as 2 1/2 hours. There's a way they could be shorter that I'll explain. Of course, there will be some minutes between the scenes and maybe some unexpected interruptions, and maybe I'll need to take a break. I have to pay Myra for an entire eight-hour shift, but I know this video will take less than half that time.
"When Myra reads the instructions, all we have to do is follow them. I've tried to make them simple and clear, so there's no confusion. All right?" I nodded.
"Oh, there's something I added after I wrote everything down, so I'll just tell you that. While following the script, you are supposed to do one more thing and that is: Ta Da! Don't come!" She raised her voice as she said this and laughed.
"What do you mean, Jory?" I asked. "I don't understand."
"It's simple, Ken," she said. "I've added a game to the video shoot, like a contest between us. I'm going to try to make you come as quickly and often as possible, and my reward will be that each segment will be over as soon as you come, so I'll spend less time doing whatever disgusting thing I was doing to make you come.
"You're going to enjoy humiliating me, so you want to try as hard as you can not to come, so that I'll endure every minute of debasement. I'm sure I'll get you off at least once, but after that, it will be more of a challenge for me and easier for you. Even if you don't want to admit you'll enjoy dragging out my humiliation, you should still try as hard as you can to not come. There's a good reason, and I'll tell you when we're done. But I promise you, the less often you come, the happier you'll be when we're finished."
I nodded, but I didn't understand. At the moment, I didn't think I could come at all. The whole strange scene was now turning me off big time.
"OK, please read the instructions for the first scene, Myra," she said. "Remember, loud and clear."
Myra cleared her throat and looked at the sheet on the clipboard and in her booming deep voice started to read. "Number one," she said, "Lay him on his back and pull him to the edge of the bed. Kneel on some cushions between his legs and push his thighs back. While pushing up, also push out his legs out so that his thighs spread. Keep pushing until he can reach his ankles with his hands to pull his legs further back. As he does this, his buttocks will go up in the air and his cheeks will be spread wide and his hole will open a little. Now lean forward and begin licking his anus. As you do, push hard against the hole with your tongue so he can really feel it. Then stick your tongue in. Push your tongue in as far as it will go and then push it in and out. While you are doing this, put your hands in the bowl of lubricant and start working his testicles and pumping his penis. Keep tonguing and stroking until he comes."
I gasped. Jory smiled at me and got off the bed and gently pushed me down on my back. I saw a stand next to the bed, and on it was big bowl filled to the top with some kind of thick, clear fluid. That must be the lubricant, I thought.
Jory grabbed my legs and pulled forward until my rear was just over the edge of the bed. Then she kneeled on some cushions on the floor between my legs and began pushing them back and spreading them apart. I felt my rear cheeks open as my legs were pulled wide apart. She was looking over my flabby penis right into my face with a strange expression as she pushed. Finally, she stopped and spoke.
"OK, grab your ankles," she said. "Now pull them back. Good. Now pull them wider and further back. Perfect. I never knew how much slimy hair there was around your anus, but then I never looked. I guess you sweat a lot in there. You'll see it for the first time when you watch the video, but I can tell you, it really looks disgusting."
I felt so spread apart that I imagined Jory -- and Myra's camera -- could see right up my colon. Jory hesitated for an instant, and I heard her take a deep breath. When her tongue first touched me, I don't know who jumped the highest off the bed, she or I. Her head shot back, and I heard gagging sounds, and then there were some more deep breaths and about 30 seconds later the tongue was back.
I don't know how she managed to do it. I couldn't imagine what she must be thinking. I felt myself stirring below. Her tongue inside me was working despite my repugnance.
She saw me get hard, too, and I heard a soft splash as she dipped her hands into the lubricant. Then I felt them around my testes, playing with them as she often did to drive me wild. Except this time her tongue was moving rapidly in and out of my hole. It felt warm and moist and was bringing me along faster than I could ever remember.
Now one hand moved from my testes, and she wrapped it around my penis and began moving her fist slowly from end to end and back. She increased the tempo and I noticed her hand was now in rhythm with the tongue going in and out of me. I began feeling a sense of urgency that become greater and greater, and then I exploded and spurted streams of liquid straight up my chest.
Jory lifted her head from between my legs and looked at me. I tried not to look as satisfied as I felt, but I was ashamed, because I was sure she knew that my lips were pressed together to avoid smiling.
She turned her head to Myra. "How long was that?" she asked.
"Thirteen minutes" was the reply.
"You'll have to do better than that, Ken," she said in a scolding voice, but I looked up to see her smiling at me while scrubbing her face with a wet cloth. She turned it over and stuck out her tongue and scrubbed at it, too. Again she made a slight gagging sound.