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Even with the static noise, I could hear my heart pounding. Here I lay naked and tightly bound and D was showing me to a guest. Damn my reaction, I thought, penis standing like a telephone pole before D’s male friend. And my reaction to her aroma couldn’t be helped. I so much enjoyed bringing her pleasure with my tongue and it had been two weeks without relief. I envisioned some tall handsome guy, clucking his tongue, suggesting as I squirmed in my bonds that D needed real male companionship.
The thoughts enraged me and I let my mind wander in order to settle down.
It was apparent that the vasectomy subject had to be addressed. The message was clear. A ‘no’ would mean an end to our relationship. I couldn’t let that happen. Being with D, even with her kinky habits, initially had punctuated my week, but now punctuated my life.
Delaying the decision would evidently result in a level of sexual frustration approaching torture, judging from my current status. D was dressed for dinner, so I knew I would lie helplessly for at least a couple of hours. But then what? Last week I was dismissed without gratification. Would D do that again? She may just be satiated by whomever it was laughing into the microphone. Mr. Dinnerdate. Again I pictured a well built, dark haired gigolo with his hands working their way under D’s dress. And no panties to hinder his efforts!
Okay, James, settle yourself.
A ‘yes’ means a pleasant trip to a winter wonderland. D’s doctor friend must be quite experienced if she is willing to perform the operation at a health spa. And I have read where it’s a rather simple operation considering it’s intended as a gift...
I don’t remember much after that. I believe I fell asleep despite my throbbing erection. I think, but I’m not sure, that pre-ejaculatory fluid was flowing down my swollen shaft.
Was that D’s voice? Was she back? I called out but I could barely hear my own voice. No feedback through the headphones. D must have turned off the microphone leaving me to the static noise, which drowned out everything.
I returned to sleep and again heard D’s voice. It was far away, as if calling me from a distance. I could not fully understand what she was saying. My frustration mounted. My nose itched and without the ability to scratch it drew my attention to D’s fragrance which I could still smell.
Again I slept. Then awoke. I completely lost track of time with my day dreaming and my naps.
I amused myself with a vision of D’s beautiful naked form and found that if I clenched my buttocks it caused my butt plug to move and pressure my prostate. This in turn produced a most tantalizing stimulation, which further engorged my erection. I was certain my fluid was flowing abundantly. Then I found that if I concentrated I could waggle my sizable erection. At least it felt like it was waggling.
I found it curious that, when completely immobilized, the ability to make such a small motion would be so importantly amusing. D secured me tighter than ever before. The cuffs were comfortable but incredibly strong. Where did she learn to secure someone so tightly?...and so quickly?
I could not move my head. That was a first. The hood had eyelets in a couple of places. D must have hooked my hood to the headboard. How devious! The headphones made it clumsy to turn my head in the last bondage session, but now I couldn’t move at all. Not an inch!
D
Robert was such a gentlemen. The type of man mothers want their daughters to marry. Yes, I could take him home to mom, settle down and then, but for mind blowing vanilla sex, be bored for the rest of my life.
Robert was not submissive. Far from it. But he was well equipped and even a Dominant girl needs a good stiff penis on occasion. Even if it means assuming the dreaded missionary position.
But on this Friday night, I’ve added some spice. With two drinks and some wine I’ve convinced Robert to return to my apartment, even though the sight of a naked, well-bound, and shaved James is not his cup of tea. But I know every man is willing to try something once. So upon returning I find myself moving the living couch to where I can lie down, turn my head to the side and watch James through the open bedroom door. Then I can look down and see Robert’s fully erect eight inches prepare to enter my love pouch. What a glorious evening! James is still discovering his prostate and even in the dim bedroom lights I can see him squirm and self manipulate his frustrated erection by way of the nasty butt plug. And unbeknownst to James he’s amusing both himself and me with that waggling pink rod.
Yes. James will be ready for me in the morning. But for now I’ll just watch him struggle in his bonds, waggle his cute little erection and enjoy the impassioned, firm strokes of a real man.
James
What is the difference between a dream and a hallucination? Without sight, sound and the ability to move I cannot determine if I am awake. I believe I can still detect the fragrance of D’s fine femininity, but that may be part of the hallucination. I don’t recall ever smelling something in a dream. And, yes, I can smell D. Is she nearby? Or am I hallucinating?
My thoughts ramble uncontrollably. Sometimes I wonder about the time. But then convince myself that the time of day or night does not matter. It is the time relative to when D decides to release me that is pertinent. So, do I have an hour left? Two hours? Three hours?
But then I realize...even if I could determine the remaining time in bondage it would not mean anything. I had no way of keeping track. So if I concluded now that I had two hours remaining, I would just fall asleep again and lose track. So time didn’t matter after all.
Then there is the question of the voice. It is D’s voice...if there is indeed a voice. But it is possible there is no voice. Which means it is not D. Except if I’m hallucinating. Then it would be a hallucination of D’s voice.
And if it is D’s voice, what is it saying? I resolve to remain breathlessly still next time I hear it, or think I hear it. That way I can hear what it is telling me, if indeed there is a voice.
My circular analysis is interrupted by an urge I had not considered. My bladder is full. With my swollen penis, controlling any inadvertent flow is not a problem. But the fullness begins to occupy my thoughts. At some point I will need to empty myself, I realize. And I have to wait for D to return...or the unthinkable alternative...wet her sheets.
I find it interesting that once the situation becomes apparent, I can not put it out of my mind. What should I do? D will be very upset to return to a messy bed.
D
Well, all good things must end. Robert took me three times, the dear boy. And with James displaying himself I nearly fainted from my own orgasms. Quite a scene being penetrated by one phallus while watching another that’s completely under my control. Heady stuff.
But alas, I was tired. I made coffee for Robert and he asked me about James. He was hinting at something so I suggested he stay for a while longer. Maybe he was not as vanilla as I thought.
James
