I stood next to the bed and waited for her to acknowledge me. Before our lost month, she had started to call it her bed and I felt it was time for me to start acting like it was again.
“Can I get into your bed?”
Pause. “Not like that, you can’t,” meaning I had to get naked, “and not without the foot lotion.” She wanted another foot massage.
Massaging her feet this time was different than it had been the night before. And it was all very meta since after I started the massage, she read my last post about that massage where she left a comment about this massage (dizzy yet?). And she was very chatty. That, along with just having spent the evening with her parents, made my headspace less deep than it had been the night before. Besides, I was thinking about the cock too much.
Earlier, I had asked to be unlocked so I could switch to a larger ring. I had the familiar issue of irritation on the right side of my scrotum and thought a slightly looser ring might help while it healed. This happens every time I get locked up at some point. In any event, after switching, I went to her to get relocked (she likes to make it click) and she took the lock in her hand, but paused. She was considering. Hello? What’s she thinking? Am I going to get out? Does she want her cock? My heart skipped a beat.
“Not yet,” she said, leaving the lock in place, but not closed.
So as I knelt there, rubbing her feet with the thick lotion and feeling my hands ache from the effort, the thought of that little chrome lock dangling, open, from the device she makes me wear loomed large. Later, she decided she wanted her neck and shoulders massaged, so she sat in front of me topless. I got up on my knees in order to get better leverage against her tight muscles and felt the device (and it’s prisoner) press against her back.
The chatting continued (induced by the wine she was drinking and had drunk while her parents were over). She talked about her trip to San Fransisco and how she and her girlfriends had shopped at Good Vibrations. She bought a little silver pocket vibe that’s a about an inch long which she keeps in the lipstick case in her purse.
“You can think about me carrying that with me wherever I go.”
“Trust me, I do.”
She started to tell me about the toys her friends have. One of them (the one that lives there) has a very elaborate rabbit-style vibe while the other has toys her husband brought home, but she wouldn’t talk about them. I’m very happy to hear she’s sharing her new sexual adventurism with her friends and I’m thrilled she went to shop for those things and didn’t even tell me about the new little vibe until she got home (even more thrilled to hear she used it before she got home). For a few moments there, I thought she might have told her friends (or, at least the non-uptight one) about what we did, but she never went there. Maybe she has, maybe not. I wouldn’t have a problem with it if she did and actually wish she would since she has no one to talk to about it.
After a long, long back rub and lots of praise by her regarding what a good job I was doing and what a good job I had done all week, she told me to lie down on my back. Oh boy, I thought, here it comes! I’ve been good! She’s going to give me my reward!
“Remember how you’ve said it’s important to have teasing along with the denial?” she asked while fingering the lock.
“Sure,” I answered, wondering what her point was and when she was going to take the device off of me.
“Well, this is the tease part,” she said as she clicked the lock closed.
Fuck. I walked right into that. I’m such a stupid fucking guy.
“Now, you’re going to do your best job using both my vibes on me and then we’re going to go to sleep.”
The little silver vibe sounds like a hyperactive bee. Very different than Pink’s baritone hum. I fucked her with Pink and used the little silver dude on her clit. This was entirely about her. I was doing nothing more than servicing her pussy. None of the ancillary ways in which I scrape together a little sexual satisfaction were available to me. I had to use both hands and had my head down by my work, so I couldn’t play with or suck on her nipples. I wasn’t actually touching her as much as I was touching the devices she told me to use on her. A few minutes earlier I thought I was in line for some kind of action that was going to be all about me and she had totally turned the tables and had me acting like some kind of twisted sexual masseuse while I worked her pussy into an orgasmic frenzy. I really should stop doubting that my Belle hasn’t embraced her role as my dominant, because she very nicely played me like a fucking jukebox.
Belle’s orgasm was unlike any I’ve ever seen her enjoy. Usually, she climbs a giant sloping mountain only to come crashing over a cliff at the end. This time, the combination of getting fucked by Pink – feeling its vibrations deep in her pussy – while the little silver dude spastically assaulted her clit brought her to a high, wide plateau of semi-orgasmic sensation. What I thought was her climax just kept going. Minutes ticked by. I was starting to get worried but then realized she was having an entirely new orgasmic experience. I was simultaneously happy for her and ripped with the aching knowledge that not only was I getting nothing during or after, but that technically speaking, I wasn’t responsible for what she was enjoying. I was only the operator of the little plastic wonders holding her at the very apex of the waterfall. Just a spectator.
Eventually, it ended. I can’t say “she came” because neither of us is sure what she experienced. I think it was a really long, very intense orgasm. But there never seemed to be that one emphatic exclamation point of a moment emblematic of a typical climax. I envy her, though. And I’m glad I was able to be there to see it happen.