The First TimeSubmitted by: Bowzer
"No, thank you."
Kylie stared at me. "What?"
"Thanks, but I masturbated today."
My wife of twenty years sat up in bed. A moment later the light on her side of the bed went on.
"What do you mean, you masturbated?"
I rolled over and met her gaze. "I masturbated."
For a second I thought she would try the guilt trip, but her surprise was too great for her to try that ploy.
"Because I didn't think I was going to be getting any tonight."
"Look, " I said, "I haven't been getting any lately, and I saw no reason for that, so I took matters into my own hands. Now, if you don't mind? I rolled away from her and closed my eyes.
And kept my very wide grin carefully concealed.
"Oh, no, bozo!" She exclaimed. She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back over. "We're having a talk."
I sighed and sat up.
"Are you say I haven't been giving you enough?"
"When's the last time?" I asked.
She thought, then: "Three weeks."
"Three and a half weeks, I believe. It was after that party we went to for Jimmy."
"You count the days?"
"And the minutes and the seconds. It's a man thing."
"Unless it's remembering an anniversary."
I grinned. "Don't try changing the subject."
"Does this mean you don't love me?"
"I love you more than ever."
"You just don't want to have sex with me."
"I'd love to have sex with you. Do you want sex right now?"
"Yes," but she was pouting.
"Then, maybe we better see if I can rise to the occasion."
"But you said you masturbated!"
"Can you get me up?" I challenged.
For a long moment I thought she wouldn't try. Wheels were spinning in her mind. Then, she suddenly lifted the cover and dove down to where it mattered.
Her lips engulfed my penis. Soft lips, and they sucked and pulled, and the tongue tickled the magic spot right under the head.
Blood surged, lust reared its ugly head, and I was shortly erect. Blood pounded in my ears.
"Aha!" Kylie murmured. She threw the covers off us and mounted me.
I couldn't stop a moan of appreciation from filtering through my lips, and she couldn't stop a gasp from escaping hers, and she pushed her velvet vulva down over my cockhead.
Slowly I slithered into her. She had been horny, all right, and she was moist to prove it.
Then we hit bottom. I was all the way in her.
"Ah, God!" she said, and she began to ride me. Her hips shifted back and forth, and I reached up to caress her breasts, and to gently roll her nipples between my fingers.
She had a fine body. Her waist had grown a little thicker with age, but her breasts had grown larger, also. And, her nipples. Ahhh. Aureoles the size of quarters--smallish, really--but the nipples always stood so erect, so defiant, so...suckable.
We lurched for long minutes. I, having cum earlier, had no urge to hurry, and I let her enjoy. I massaged her flesh gently. I put a thumb down to her clit and rubbed it softly.
After some minutes she lurched faster. Her eyes had been closed thus far, and suddenly she opened them. There was surprise in her gaze.
I brought her down to me, and I sucked, and the nipples grew harder. I could feel, through the mesh of our bodies, the groaning deep inside her.
She wasn't a screamer, or a grunter, she was a groaner, and I knew she was close.
She slithered up and down on my pole, her moisture keeping us velvety, and then I felt her tense up inside.
She always tenses, as if she is surprised by what is happening to her body.
I could feel the volcano in her core igniting. I could feel the ripple of her vaginal muscles. She clenched and unclenched, and the spasms were getting closer to the surface.
I bent, managed to get my mouth upon her right breast, and I sucked on her nipple.
"AAAHHH!" She quivered, and I could feel her muscles tightening up, the crescendo was starting.
I sucked harder, stroking with my tongue, trying to make the nipple longer.
"ARRRRRGH!" She groaned, and the wave hit her. She shivered, and the shivers opened up to full body spasms. Her eyes fluttered, and though she was trying to look at me, they rolled backward in the sockets.
She entered paralysis. The shockwaves consumed her, a long ten seconds...and she collapsed on me.
For a long minute she just breathed, tried to stop heaving. And, at last, she rolled off me and stared upward. "God."
"Thank you," I said.
She turned her head towards me. "You stayed harder longer. Long enough."
"Well, I can't cum so soon after I masturbate."
But the frown had had no strength. I had, after all, just taken her to paradise.
"I don't want you to masturbate."
"Because...because sex should be between a man and a woman."
"True," I said. "But sometimes it doesn't happen that way."
"Can't you hold yourself back?"
I faced her squarely. "Why would I want to?"
"So you can come with me."
"Like you just waited for me?"
She started to say something, then stopped. She saw the trap. She stepped back. "We'll talk later."
Then the light went out, and we went to sleep. Her first, as she was more recently satisfied than me. Just as well. I had things to think about.
Kylie, to fill in a few details, was blonde. Not natural, but that's okay. She has the most beautiful face, and I truly believe she is the most gorgeous woman on the planet. She is also a police Lt. Hopes to make Captain before she retires, and is very driven.
Myself, not to bore you, am not driven. I used to be. Construction, made a few million, and am recently retired.
So, I, with plenty of time on my hands, and a beautiful woman to prod my lust, and her, workaholic, don't always agree on the time and the place and the so on.
Love, but lust on hold. Not good.
So I had decided enough was enough. I was taking matters into my own hands, it's true, but, hopefully, so would she.
The next day she was up early. Humming and bustling about, made me breakfast, smiled a lot. You know, like a woman well fucked.
And I laid in bed with the most monstrous hard on. Oh, God, it was steely. And it felt so good. It just kept pounding, wanting, and there was nowhere to put it.
I got up, padded downstairs and entered the kitchen.
"Hmmm, What we got here." She kissed me, stroked me, laughed, and pushed me into a chair.
Bacon, eggs, toast slathered with butter and Smuckers Jelly.
And there we sat. Me naked, chowing down.
Her uniformed, ready for work, watching me like a woman in love.
"Okay," she finally said. "What's up your sleeve?"
I looked at my bare arm, and gave her a mocking look.
"Come on. Out with it. What's your big plan?"
"I want to get more kinky."
She frowned, pursed her delightful lips. Her eyes took on that bland cop look. "Define 'more kinky.'"
I grinned. "I love it when you talk dirty."
She grinned back at me. A hard grin. A grin reserved for perps about to do time. "And you are so fucking obvious. You've got something going on in your head."
"Do I?" I asked innocently.
"Okay, bozo. I'm going to work. You go ahead and get kinky. But remember, my good nightstick is upstairs, and I haven't forgotten how to work it."
I started breathing hard. "Oh, oh, I'm already getting turned on."
"Asshole," she tossed to me as she came around the table. She squeezed my balls, tweaked one nipple, and stuck her tongue in my ear.
Then she was out the door, gone to arrest the city, and I was left to my own devices. Heh, heh.
That was Monday, and the rest of the week just sort of whiled away. Kylie went to work, I puttered around the house, and we had leisurely meals, watched TV together, and didn't speak of what was topmost in our minds.
And, unsatisfied erection on my person, I hugged my wife, and showered her with attention, and smiled a lot.
And she took the attention, was grateful, and smiled a lot.
Friday. End of a work week for her, and she called me at noon.
"Feel like a dead cow? Maybe a little rotten corn?"
I smiled into the phone. "Sounds like a deal.
"Well, good, sailor. You've been treating me so well, who knows? You might get lucky."
"I guess I better not abuse myself today, then."
She was silent, but, oh...those wheels were a turnin'.
I was ready when she got home, and it didn't take her more than an hour or so to make herself ready. When she walked down the stairs she was a living dream. Hair done up, red lipstick, tight, black dress, heels to raise that fine ass.
I applauded as she descended the stairs, held the door open for her, held the door to the Lexus open for her, and we toured off down the road. Two lucky people in love with one another.
We ate at Morton's in Burbank. Not a bad place. A little snobby for me, but I knew Kylie liked that kind of attention.
Prime rib. Mmmm.
Black Velvet. Whooo!
And I watched her cleavage, not even bothering to be surreptitious.
Each delicate bite of her steak, worried by her plump, red lips, I shivered.
Each smile of her pearly whites, I swooned.
Have I mentioned that she was a beautiful woman?
"So," she said, having ordered me, encouraged me, and watched me down three drinks. "Tell me about this kink thing?"
"Now, really," I replied with a chuckle, "is this proper interrogation technique?"
She smiled. She didn't even try to hide her deviousness. "No. But it works with you."
"I'm pretty easy, eh?"
"You are. Now talk."
I took a big sip, felt the liquor slide down my throat and burst into my stomach. The room felt cozy, and I felt warm. Warm all over.
"Okey, dokey," I said. "Here's the deal."
She leaned forward. Her red lips and large breasts moved forward too, and I realized that I really was a little drunk.
"You are working hard, doing what you do, and I admire that. I would certainly never want to slow you down, distract you, get in your way, that sort of thing."
She watched me raptly, and I noticed how her eyes were so blue that they were bleached: they removed character from her, and made her unique and tempting.
"Now I, on the other hand, have nothing to do. So, do the math, you every three weeks, me every three days. Doesn't seem fair, does it?"
She shook her head slowly in the negative.
I took another sip. Liquid slid slowly down my throat, made the room hotter, made my groin...shall we say...unruly?
"So, having nothing to do, being distracted by the internet, I came across various websites that made it appear rather glorious to be horny."
"Well, specifically... "
she waved her hand at the waiter for another drink for me.
"...a man that is kept on the plateau phase of sex, building, always building, but never reaching a peak--a climax--if you wish, is a happy man. He is in love with his wife. He showers her with attention. He lives to make her orgasm, and she, if she is wise, encourages that behavior."
She stared at me, the wheels aturnin', and pursed her lips. Have I mentioned that her lips are plump? Red? Moist? A pair of lips I would just love to place my cock between?
I looked at my drink. Getting that crude in my thinking, I knew I was the product of drinking.
"So why did you masturbate?"
I took a gulp of my freshly arrived drink. Warmth. Warmth everywhere. I would have to be careful or I would start slurring my words.
"To get your attenshun."
"Hmmm," she sat back, thoughtful. "So, you want me to play with you, get you excited, have my pleasure, and...you don't get any."
I raised my drink to her. "Whoever said all the brains were on my side of the family?"
I sipped, and I felt like the drink was sipping me, taking my good sense on a vacation. A long vacation.
"Okay," she said. "I only have one question for you, at this point."
"Shoot," and I giggled. One never said such obvious things to a policeman. Woman.
"Where did you get such an idea? I mean, what websites have you been visiting that planted that berserk, little idea in your otherwise well balanced cranium?"
And I said the one word that would uplift me, enlighten me, destroy me, and doom me.
So we went home and had sex.
Raw, earthy sex.
The kind of sex where sweat drips from your pores, your body turns into a pleasure machine, and your senses ignite and become supernovaic.
And, she came.
And, when I was about to, she reached down and grabbed me by the base and squeezed.
The throbbing subsided, she rided, and squeezed again.
God, I was about coming apart at the head before she finally lurched into a bone clinching orgasm.
And she rolled off me.
She, breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling, satisfied.
Me, gasping, wanting to come worse than I ever had. "Bitch?"
I tried to tickle her nipple, but she slapped my hand away and rolled onto her side and grinned at me. And played with my nipples.
"Is this what you want?"
I groaned, my groin afire, and reached for her.
She pushed me back.
"Stay here." She rolled out of bed, went to her dressing table and got a tube of lipstick. High gloss red. She colored her lips and came back to the foot of the bed, crawled up between my legs.
My manhood surged, throbbed, was desperately afire.
She touched her bright red lips lightly, lowered her head to my cock, and stopped.
I reached for her head, she drew back.
I put my hands down, and she moved to my cock again, hovered over it, blew on it, gently licked the underside.
"Oh, sweet Heysoos."
I again tried to rise, but she withdrew, waited for me to lay back, then lowered herself again.
For the next fifteen minutes I was treated to the most exquisite torture imaginable. I was stroked with lubed hands, my purple head kissed and licked, tongued to a peak, and then backed off from.
My blood surged, my groin began to ignite. Just...a...few...more...seconds...and... she stopped.
Groaning in frustration, I wanted to rape her, fuck her, lay waste to her fine body with my raging hard on.
She placed a hand on my chest, smiled evil, and said, "I really don't want you to masturbate. Can you not masturbate for me?"
"For how long?" I growled.
"I'll let you know."
I lay back and my frustration was evident with a gutteral sob.
"Is that an affirmative?"
I nodded, and my dick bobbed happily.
She went downstairs, poured a soft drink, and I heard the Mac strike a chord as she turned it on. I had a feeling I knew what she was going to be doing. And, when I went downstairs, I was proved right. She was on the web, and I recognized the links page on Altairboy.
"Go way," she ordered gently. "Go watch TV."
I resisted the urge to get up behind her and poke my penis into her hair and jack off. Instead, I went to the kitchen, poured myself a soft drink, and went to the front room to watch Rambo.
She read late into the night, and I watched Rambo slaughter the world, and my hard on just...wouldn't...quit.
Saturday came and went. We whiled away the day, went to dinner and a movie that night, Kylie made me eat her to an orgasm, played with me some more, and left me high and dry.
But I knew she was thinking. She's not only curvy and luscious and delicious, she thinks.
Sunday. Ate Kylie to another orgasm--I could tell she was starting to like this game--and went golfing in the afternoon. The only thing of surprise during the day was that when I got home I went to check my e-mail, and the computer wouldn't work.
"What's the problem?" Kylie asked from the doorway.
"Ah," I muttered in disgust, "something is wrong with the computer." I turned, noted she was holding two drinks--she handed me one--and smiling.
"I fixed the computer so you have to log on."
"Your log on name is 'iwanttobeasissyslutformywife' No caps."
"Oh, come-- "
"Shut up," she said sweetly. "And before you log on, I want to take advantage of your tongue."
A minute later, in our bedroom, her legs spread and my tongue doing its duty, she informed me that I was no longer to erase the history from the computer.
Now the wheels were turning in my head.
"I want to know what my little tongue slave is thinking about these days," she explained, and then she started moaning. I had found the sweet spot.
The week passed. I got no relief. She got lots of relief. Tongue relief. Twice daily. Morning and night. And I never knew, when she went to work, whether she was going to kiss me, or grab my balls and squeeze me to my knees.
I finally figured out that if the look in my eyes was apprehensive, she would kiss me. If the look was relaxed, I was going to get a squeeze. And, when it became obvious that I had her figured out, she began mixing them up on me.
God. No wonder I loved the bitch. She had me figured out all over the place.
Friday came, and Kylie took a day off. This was unusual, and she explained to me, "Go on a long hike. Have lunch. Take in a movie. Take another hike. Have dinner. Then come home. I figure seven o'clock. And wear these.
She tossed me a jockstrap with a hole for the weenie and a bra.
I nearly came when I put the jockstrap on, but I managed to hold off.
Kylie watched me with a big grin.
I put the bra on. It was black, flat, nothing for breasts, just slithery material to cover the pectorals.
"Hold on," she said. She grabbed a lipstick and outlined my nipples, and fastened the bra.
We stood there looking at each other. Her smiling. Me blushing. I mean, my face was red the color of the lipstick on my nipples.
And my dick stuck obscenely out the front of the athletic supporter.
I had asked for this, but I hadn't expected it.
And I was, in addition to being supremely embarrassed, very, very, horny.
"Get dressed and get out," she admonished. "And remember, don't come back before seven. And don't come in. Go to the garage, close the door, undress, and kneel."
I wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out.
She turned me then and pushed me away. "Go, you stupid cow bitch. You sissy slut who wants to wear his wife's underthings. Go."
I returned at seven. To the second.
It had been a long day, and my mind had been going wild, to say the least.
What was she planning?
What was going to happen?
Well, nothing like finding out.
I closed the garage door and began taking off my clothes.
Last were the jockstrap and the bra. My dick was pounding, there were still traces of lipstick on my nipples.
I knelt outside the kitchen door, couldn't seem to stop gulping, and knocked on the door.
A minute. I thought about knocking again, then I heard foosteps. Sexy, heel clicking footsteps.
The cat door swung outwards and a bag was pushed through.
Not a word had been spoken, and I could feel her waiting on the other side of the door. I wondered if she was as breathless as I. I opened the bag.
A tube of bright, red lipstick. Garters and nylons. High heels with little padlocks. A bra with a little padlock. A wig. A sleeping mask. A tool that dentists used to keep patient's mouths open. And...a miniature pillory. It was obvious that this pillory had been designed for a man's private parts.
Oh, my God.
First, I figured out the pillory. I slipped my dick through the hole, which stretched my balls and dick out and put pressure on the front of my thighs. I could walk, but I wouldn't be taking big steps.
I went to the car and put on the lipstick. The red unrolled across my lips easily, and I tried to keep it neat. It was difficult, my hands were shaking so hard.
I put on the brassiere. I had a difficult time getting my arms up high enough, but I managed to snap the padlock closed.
I put on the garters and the nylons, then slid my feet into the high heels. I clicked the padlocks closed and stood up.
I tottered for a moment, unbalanced on the heels and stretched at the cock.
It was weird. The high heels made me want to push my buttocks back, but the cock pillory made me want to push my hips forward. My rocks were between some hard spots.
I put on the wig, arranged it as best I could, then put on the medical gag. My mouth felt stretched out and vulnerable.
Finally, I put on the sleeping mask.
There I was, standing on tippy toes, my lips bright red, my ass lifted and my cock thrust forward.
There was no way I could kneel again, so I merely stood in front of the kitchen door and knocked.
I heard the door open.
"Well, well. What do we have here? Turn around."
I turned. I thought she meant to make a complete turn so she could inspect me, but when my back was turned she snapped handcuffs on my wrists as efficiently as a police officer.
"Okay, bozo," she whispered in my ear. I heard a click, and the garage door went up.
Oh, crap! People would be able to see me!
I tensed, tightened, but there was no struggling against her controlling techniques.
She walked me to the driveway, and we stood, and I waited for neighbors to scream, listened for cars to pass. I can't tell you the riot that was occurring in my mind.
"Is this what you wanted?" Her lips stayed at my ear, whispering, and I could feel them brush against my flesh. "Did you want people to know that you were kinky? Out of control? Obsessed with your little weenie?"
I shook my head back and forth. My chest was pounding, and I actually felt like crying. I tried to speak, but all I could make through the open mouth gag was unintelligible sounds.
"Maybe we should cross the street, pay a visit to the Jones'? Would you like that?" I shook my head.
Finally, it felt like an hour, but was probably only a minute, she walked me back towards the kitchen. At the door she helped me up the step, clicked the garage door closed, and walked me through the house.
I thought I knew my house, but I wasn't prepared to navigate it in the condition I was in.
I walked into the kitchen table. I tripped over the rug. I walked into the doorframe.
Kylie chuckled. "Clumsy, aren't you?"
We made it to the door leading to the basement, and she led me downwards.
"All righty, my kinky, little husband. Are you ready for the activities to commence?
I had recovered some of my mental balance, now that I was away from possible neighbors eyes, and I nodded.
"Okey, doke. Stand here."
She back me against something. I could feel framework, and my neck was pushed against a curved piece of wood. She undid my handcuffs, raised my hands to head height and pushed them back against the same piece of wood. Suddenly, she brought another piece of wood against my neck--my hands were trapped--and I realized that I was in a stand up pillory.
I could hear the rustle of her bending down, and she pushed on my legs.
"Wider," she said. Then I felt shackles being attached.
"Very good." She caressed my penis, worked it, her hand was coated with lube and it was heaven. I groaned and thrust my hips forward.
She took her hand away.
She took the blindfold off, and I blinked at the sudden light.
She walked across the cement floor, her high heels clicking, her back end sashaying. She was wearing a corset and nylons. She turned on a boombox, and sultry music filled the basement.
Sade. The Sweetest Taboo. The volume was low and insinuating.
She turned to me, leaned against the workbench. Her face was perfectly made up and her breasts heaved over the top of the corset. It was such a contrast, to see her made up as a dominatrix, and the wall behind her decorated with saws and drills and such.
Sexy, but a bit much.
"Well, bozo. You've done it now. You've pissed me off."
"This talk of kinkiness. Those disgusting websites you've been visiting. You're a sick puppy." Her beautiful eyes looked fierce now, and she smiled a mean smile. "Fortunately, I know what to do with sick puppies."
She turned to the mini fridge and opened it. She took out a drink.
She walked towards me, swirling the icecubes in the glass. In her other hand she had a short length of clear tubing.
"Do you know what it would do to my career if it were found out that you were a pervert?"
I tried to speak, but she just shook her head and frowned.
"My career would be over, and it would be all your fault. For being a pervert. Well, we're going to fix that right now. You're never going to be a pervert again."
She stopped in front of me and held the glass up to me eye level. "Black Velvet. Coke. Ice cubes. A little something to keep you long and tall while I do what I'm going to do to you."
She took a drink, put the tubing in her mouth, in my mouth, and gently pushed the liquid through the tube.
The liquor struck the back of my tongue. I couldn't close my mouth. I couldn't expel it. All I could do was swallow.
Until the glass was empty.
My head went into an immediate buzz.
Any thought of resisting was gone. I was drunk. Nice and lightly high. Buzzing.
Kylie walked back to the workbench. She opened a drawer and pulled out a strap on dildo. A big one. It was so big that I knew it had been designed for a horse!
No way I was going to be able to take that monster! I was a relative virgin as far as anal went!
Kylie smiled that sharp, mean smile of hers as she strapped it on. The damned thing dangled to her knees!
She turned back to the workbench, lifted up a camera. Aimed it at me. Bright light filled my eyes. She walked around me, taking picture after picture. And, as she snapped my predicament, she explained.
"Memories, my sweet. Blackmail, if I wish. I read all those sites. I know what perverts want, and I'm going to give it to you. All of it. And...I'm going to take a little something for myself."
She put the camera back on the bench, began walking towards me.
I was, to tell the truth, terrified. This thing had gone far out of control. I was trapped, about to have my backside split open, and pictures had been taken. Oh, my god. I moaned.
"Is that your lust speaking?" Kylie whispered to me, caressing my cheek. "Are you excited at about what you are to receive? About to give?"
She positioned herself behind me. I tried to close my legs, but the shackles were attached to a spreader bar. She lubed up my pucker, ran her fingers across it, rimmed it, inserted them gently.
It didn't feel bad, but it was only her fingers. In my mind, all I could see was that giant cock!
"Are you ready?"
I tried to say no, but all sounds came out garbled.
She pushed into me.
It wasn't gentle, and my rectum felt electric. Spasms lurched through me. I struggled, but had no range of motion.
"That's the head. You ready for the rest of it?"
I tried to shake my head in the negative, but the pillory trapped me.
She pushed. Slowly. It slithered into me, opened me up.
Slowly, I felt myself widen, accept the thing into my depths.
My body started to shake and shiver. Ecstacy? I don't know. I just know that my body was spasming uncontrollably.
Kylie laughed, and I felt her bump up against my cheeks.
"How you like it now, pervert? You like being toped? You like it when I'm the stud, and you're the bitch?"
She rocked back and forth, and I felt the shaft sliding in and out. Out to the head, into the slap of buttocks. Again and again. I moaned, my body danced in shivers and jerks,
She stopped. "Don't think you're going to cum." She pulled out of me. I could hear her take off the strap on and throw it aside.
She walked around to the front of me. "Are you ready for the main show? Pervert?"
I tried to beg. My eyes pled. But she just laughed.
"Just what you wanted, right?"
She leaned close to me, licked my cheek, tweaked my nipples through my bra, and she said, "I had to go to a lot of sites to get this next thing right. Medical sites. I don't want you to bleed to death. I just want you to live the life you want. A cocksucking whore. A bitch that waits on me hand and foot. Are you ready?"
I started to cry.
She knelt down, out of my sight, and I could feel her working my penis. She rubbed something all over it. Then, she tied something around it.
She raised up, held a sharp knife for me to see, and knelt down.
I felt the knife go through me. I heard something all on the floor. I felt numbness. Everything grew dark, and I left consciousness.
I was lying on the floor, and Kylie was crying and pushing on my chest. As I opened my eyes her tears turned to tears of relief, and she sagged upon me.
"Oh, thank God!"
I felt...what? Numb. Numb down there. Numb in my mind. I felt...I began to cry. I just sobbed and sobbed. My chest lurched and emotion poured out of me.
"It's okay," Kylie murmered into my chest. Then she straightened up and looked down on me. "I didn't do anything."
"The gag had been taken out of my mouth, and, throat dry, I managed, "You cut...you...you cut it-- "
"No! No! I just rubbed a medical numbing agent on it, made a snapping sound. My timing was right, and you thought...here. Feel."
She pulled my hand down. My cock and balls were still there, and I could feel faint traces of feeling. The numbing agent was wearing off.
Still, I couldn't stop crying.
She pulled me to a sitting position and held me. I hugged her, couldn't let go, couldn't stop the tears from flowing.
"I like your kink. I thought it would be fun. I just thought I would give you the thrill of a lifetime. I mean, the first time is always the best, right?"
The first time. I would remember it forever. And I hugged her like a sailor would hug a life preserver and continued sobbing.
"Look, the dildo wasn't even as big as you thought." The strap on was lying on the floor next to us, and it was about as big as my middle finger.
"I didn't want to hurt you, so I pulled off the big one. I figured you thinking it was big would be enough."
I nodded. Tears splashed all over her breasts.
"Next week we can do something else. Something not so over the top. Okay?"
She put her forehead to mine and we sat there. Her soothing me, me unable to stop crying.
"Okay?" she asked again.
Finally, through the gulping and sobbing and shivering, I managed to nod.
"O-o-kay," I stuttered.
And she held me.
Page last updated 2011-Aug-27 by: Altairboy@aol.com