The suspense is getting to me as I wait, legs spread, arms locked behind me, my neck secured to the bedpost, blindfolded, anddressed in lingerie. Was I so annoying to Anita that she needed to keep me away from her like this? I'm wondering what's in store for me, Friday night she mentioned she wanted to hear about my fantasies, what does she…
I hear something. I hear the door opening and I sense that someone is nearby. I hope it's her, and not the someone else she invited to see me in this predicament. I jump when I feel two fingers lightly touching my chest, first making lazy circles, and then heading south to my belly. The soft touch, almost a tickling, has a sensuous effect, and my flaccid cock begins to swell again in its cage.
SLAP! "Ouch! What was that?" I want to cry out after my balls are slapped, but only manage a muffled “Outh” with the gag in my mouth.
"I didn't tell MY cock to grow, did I?" Anita says.
“O eye ady,” I manage to mumble through the gag in my mouth.
“No, my lady” she repeats. “Good slave,” she tells me as she kisses me gently on my cheek.
“Now I promised you some entertainment,” she tells me as she slips my headphones over my ears and a moment later, I hear a phone ringing in my ears.
Suddenly a sweet voice answers…“Hello, this is Julie…”
Uncontrollably, my cock hardens instantly as my mind flashes back to vivid memories of Julie…
************************
“Introducing JULIE! On the main stage, gentleman, the lovely JULIE!” A voice booms over my head. The music starts, and I scurryfrom the bar to take a front row seat at the stage. As I sit, Julie, my lovely wife Anita’s stage name, takes a final step up and twirls into the middle of the platform, her long blond hair arching around her head as her body dances to the booming beat.
I sit entranced as her she sways rhythmically to the music, looking up at her long sexy leg, trying to control myself as she bends and lifts her short dress to show me her tight, naked butt.
For the first song, she dances away to tease some guys at the far end, then finally returns to the pole in front of me as the trumpet intro to a favorite song of ours starts blaring over my head . Turning slowly in a circle, she pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulders and bends over again at the waist, her hand holding the front of the dress so it doesn’t fall off quite yet, this time letting me peek inside so I can see her pert nipples beckoning.
She stands again, then starts swinging in leisurely circles with one hand on the pole as her hips sway with the music until she stops and is facing me again. When the lyrics start, she wiggles out her dress and the lights start flashing faster, illuminating her almost naked body one second only to plunge it into a shadow the next.
I look up from my seat and I see the narrow blond strip of her pubic hair stretching down from below her navel to disappear between her tightly pressed thighs as she unties her panties and drops them on the stage in front of me. Leisurely she slides her back down the dancing pole in front of me, slowly spreading her knees, opening herself up, so I can peek at her full, shaved lips.
Her musky scent surrounds me, a tantalizing blend of her juices mixed with a vanilla perfume and I know then that she is very excited dance for me. A soft “aaaa” escapes my lips, when the lights flash and I see the upside down “V” where her pussy lips meet.
In a single fluid motion, she turns away, grabs the pole with two hands, jumps and swings her legs once, twice, three times around to land in front of me, her back to me with her high heeled feet wide open. She runs her hands down the pole to the floor and touches her toes with her fingers.
She lingers there for a few seconds, while I watch her reach up with one hand and gently open her labia, showing me the folds inside her glistening pink slit, her fingers pulling the hood back from her hardening clit. A private show just for me I know, over much too quickly as she stands and dances her way to the other end of the stage, leaving me bulging in my pants.
***********************
“AHHH” is the best response I can manage, since the ball gag is still tucked firmly in my mouth.
“Well, I see that you remember me, isn’t that nice.” Julie says as I feel a small kiss on my cheek along with a quick THWAP to my ass.
“What a fun toy!” she cries as she gives my other cheek a quick snap too with the riding crop.
“Ummff” I reply, my other cheek stinging now too.
“And what’s this?” she asks me as she flicks the flogger at my caged cock, the soft leather thongs finding their way through theslits, making me groan with pleasure.
“This is fun too – these will be perfect for today”
“..oo..ay?” I mumble through the gag, more than a little nervous now.
“Anita asked me to be here today to find out what you like to fantasize about during your nightly, um, entertainment sessionsthat wake her up. First, we’re going to start by tying you to the bedrail again, like the other night – remember?”
“Don’t worry Anita is going to leave the room so she can’t hear, so whatever we talk about will be our secret. However, she may stop in from time to time just to give you a few smacks or whatever entertainment she likes. Okay?”
“O..aa..” I respond and am rewarded with a sharp SLAP on the ass from the riding crop.
“That’s Yes, my lady” Julie reminds me.
“..eth eye ady” I respond quickly bracing myself for another slap that, thankfully, doesn’t happen.
“Very good.” Julie responds, her soft voice in my ears getting me excited. I can see your naughty brain working already” she tells me as I receive a few light smacks with the crop to my exposed scrotum. “How’s that cage feeling? Not too tight? “
“uncphh” I manage to reply.
“Let’s make sure this blindfold is on good too.” She says as I feel her tug at the back of my head.
“Now let me take this gag out of your mouth. Here, have a sip of water too.
Let’ see now, do you remember Friday night, Anita’s nice, smooth shaved pussy? Can you picture it? What if it’s trapped in a cagetoo? Would you like that? Ha, ha! Yes, we found your stash of pictures. I think it might be fun to wear something like that and not let your tongue be able to reach my clit. What do you think?”
“Oh, I see you like that idea” she says tapping the crop against my stiffening cock. “But you will need to stay in your cage for a while yet. So, while you’re thinking about our caged pussies, let’s see…fantasies. I can think of two, no make that three neighbors that I can easily imagine you having fantasies about. Think we should talk about them? Yes? No? Ahh, wait…I have a better idea, perhaps a few questions first, and let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Why don’t you tell me about the first time you ever, um ‘entertained’ yourself - and what possibly could you have been thinking about…
5
“Ummm.” I hadn’t been expecting THAT question. “Well, um OK, I guess. It’s something, well there’s a lot of parts to it and...”
Suddenly, I feel the thongs of the flogger lightly snap, once, twice, and then a third time against my scrotum.
I sit back with a groan of pleasure from the light smacks and begin, smiling as I remember that summer I turned 16…
“I hear an early morning lawn mower buzz nearby as I lay in bed touching myself and I’m in no rush to get up. My new basement room, which we just finished building last week, is still cool from having the window open all night. Because I’m not yet used to my new-found privacy, I’m still wearing a full set of PJ’s, and underpants, and as I lie here I’m relishing the fact that school has been over for a few weeks and, even better, it’s Friday, library day, so, no chores!
I rub my penis with my fingers again, teasing not only the tip this time but the shaft now too, until I am hard. It tickles a lot, so I stop.
Now, I run my fingers along my penis again, getting hard and stopping again, not sure what I’m doing, but it feels awfully goodto have a hard on and then I think back again to when Father John had THE class for the 10th grade that we had all been waiting impatiently for. I had been excited too, but we lost interest when all he talked about how touching yourself was a sin. What the heck did that mean? I wasn’t sure, but I’ve been curious since then. This is a sin to get hard like this.
My dad had given me a book before that, at Easter break, but that wasn’t very helpful either. It described how sex is only for married people who want to have babies. The only thing new I learned was that to do that, the man puts his penis into the woman. The stupid book didn’t say how, or even more importantly, where. My first thought was that if my wife wants to have a baby then she would have to figure out where I should put it. Oh, yea, also, if you weren’t married, sex is a sin. Sin seemed to be the big theme.
I tremble a little when I cup my scrotum and tease the tip of my cock some more with my other hand. My heart is beating alittle faster and I’m surprised to find myself suddenly thinking about girls…I’m feel confused by al the feelings that are bubbling up inside me as I lie here. Sadly, the only place I can turn to for more information are mail catalogs. On those glossy pages are pictures of women in ‘undergarments’ that were borderline ‘dirty’ pictures. My favorite section, of course, is the one with the pictures of teenage girls. I love the way their bright colored panties only come up to their hips and show a lot of skin underneath their belly buttons. Often, as I flipped through the catalog staring at the little mounds in their panty clad crotches, my tongue would get a tingly feeling, and I wasn’t sure why!
The lawn mower is gone now, and I tickle myself until I’m hard again and stop again. I take off my pajamas and roll my underwear down to encircle my hips, liking the way so much more of my skin is exposed and imagining this is how a girl must feel. I think about how I like to peek out my bedroom window on summer afternoons at the clothesline next door after Mrs. Horn hangs her wash and feeling so excited just whenever I see her daughter Debbie’s flowered panties moving in the breeze – I always have to control myself from sneaking out there and stealing one.
I remember the other night, when I had experimented in the shower, sliding myself into a plastic bottle filled with soapy warm water, and then enjoying the awesome sensation of getting hard as I squeezed it and the warm water gushed out all over me. Afterwards, I snuck a plastic jar out of the kitchen cabinet and back in my room I put it over my erection but was disappointed to discover that it only came down about halfway. And - it was too also way too wide, and shit, the rim really hurt too whenever I accidentally rubbed it against myself.
I flip upside down and stick my head under the bed, feeling around in the dark down there until I find the bottle under the bed and am determined to try it again, fitting it over my cock and then lie there playing with the bottle for a while, wondering if there is some place I could go and try some warm, maybe hot water this time. On the dresser is a box of tissues, so, on a whim, I stuff a bunch into the bottom, add some more and then hollow a tunnel with my fingers, remembering to drape some around the rim as padding. I try putting myself into it. Too tight! I push the tissues a bit with my fingers and try again.
My cock gets hard this time when I slip the top of it into the tissue tunnel. The jar is not deep enough for me fit in very far, but the tip of my penis feels delightful. I twist the bottle in circles, then, because it’s tickling a lot, I move it up and down instead. In a minute, the tickling sensation stops, and now I realize I’m getting much, much harder. I start shuddering with every stroke - upand down, up, and down. - then I start pumping it faster as I feel just below the tip filling up and suddenly my whole dick is fat and throbbing.
And now my thoughts turn back to that day last week and my first girlfriend – sweet 16 Angela! Before that wonderful day, Ihad a hard time understanding the what the heck were those dark hairy triangles I had occasionally seen on the folded up centerfolds other boys would smuggle along with cigarettes on our scouting campouts.
“Where’s your bathroom?” Angela asks as we climb out of the pool and grab our towels, laughing when she steals mine since it was dryer.
We had met about two months ago, on my last day of tenth grade, when I was walking home from the bus stop and she was sitting alone in her front yard. Mom had been worried when I got home half an hour late, but I was excited to tell her I had made a new friend – a girl!
“Hello…bathroom?” Angela asks again, interrupting my thoughts.
“Um, it’s um, you can use the one in the cellar, under the stairs…” I start to answer before she cuts me short.
“Can you show me? Please?” she asks.
We hold hands as I lead her down the stairs and through the fuzzy semi darkness to the bathroom door, the cool air in the basement giving us goosebumps.
“Wanna see something?” she whispers in my ear. Not waiting for an answer, she tugs me into the bathroom and shuts the doorbehind us. Specks of dust sparkle in the faint rays of light filtering in from the small window over the toilet, lighting the bathroom with a soft glow.
Angela steps away and leans against the sink. I watch, entranced, as she runs her hands lightly down the wet suit that’s clingingto her body, over her small hard nipples poking through the fabric and down to the crotch of her red one piece. I’m staring at her now, and she looks back at me, her brown eyes smiling at me while she hooks one finger, then two inside her suit andslowly pulls it away from herself.
I look down again and in the dim light I can see that it is definitely not a black hairy triangle, all I can see a light, puffy tuft of brown peach fuss and…
“You can look closer if you want.” I barely hear her say.
“O wow!’ I think as I kneel slowly down in front of her. As I bring my face closer, she stands up on her tip toes and rests herbutt up on the edge of the sink. I watch mesmerized as she puts her hand in the small patch of brown hair just above them and pulls up as she opens her legs wide, fully exposing two thick lips of pale white flesh pressed tightly together on either side a thin slit. My heart has been beating fast the whole time and now my tongue is tingling like crazy, but when she spreads her pussy open wide, not only do I see the deep pink folds that are glistening wet between her smooth lips but now I can smell something – her? Oh my God! I feel something primal deep inside react and suddenly my cock is surging in my suit. I’m shaking as she takes my hand and brings it towards…
Above us, we hear the house door open, the foyer switch snaps the light on ands my mothers’ footsteps start descending thestairs. In an instant, I fly out of the bathroom, around the corner and hide behind the bar – my heart thudding and my poor cock throbbing.
An unbelievable pleasure from my cock is flooding through me as I picture Angela again half out of her bathing suit. I close myeyes and breathe in deep, and I can practically smell her again. I open my legs wider and unconsciously point my toes straight out, tightening my calf muscles until realize I’m breathing much quicker. I close my eyes and open my mouth, breathing harder still, moving the bottle even faster - up and down, up and down - wondering the whole time what the heck is happening? Amoment later, I feel all the muscles in my bottom clench uncontrollably as I thrust my hips up of the bed, trying to push myself deeper into the bottle, gasping when my hard on suddenly pulses with a huge blast and then I feel a spurt of hot liquid blast out of my cock, and then another and another …
6
“Her smell…” Julie starts to ask.
“Ever since then, the smell of a…of um, well, you know, is what drives me the wildest” I answer. “Well, at least until I got totaste...”
“So how often did you do that? With the bottle?”
“Umm, well, not often. Once or twice a week, maybe. Remember that I was planning to be a priest and had to confess “my sin” every time I did it, so maybe less than that. And usually only when I had the house to myself, which wasn’t often at all. I remember though that it was mostly on Saturday nights, 10 PM, when Mission Impossible was on TV. I’d set myself up on the basement couch with blankets, pile of pillows and my ‘bottle’ of course.”
“Oh, that sounds like a fun Saturday night! Why not just use your hand?”
“I, well, didn’t experiment much, I really got very embarrassed when I went to confession each week before mass.”
“You poor thing!”
“Well, yea” I say sheepishly. It wasn’t until like about three months later before I discovered that I didn’t need my bottle.And after that, I, umm, stopped confessing that I did it anymore. I think that was when I started to suspect the priesthood might not be for me. ”
“Tell me.” Julie commands.
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