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Tale of the Strap-On
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Tale of the Strap-On  This is the blog that I promised a very good friend of mine that I would write tonight. And even as I contemplate where to begin the tale (which is true, all of it....), I can't help but be reminded of the convoluted twists of fate that the short story writer O'Henry wove into his masterpieces of irony. Some say that truth is stranger than fiction. You be the judge. Yesterday I met a gentleman for a playdate that had been long awaited and in preparation for several months. He was looking for a play partner to indulge some of his fondest fantasies which included nipple play, a little bit of cross-dressing, and as much anal play that we could do, including using a strap-on to fuck him and "fill him up". In other words, he desperately wanted to be my slut, my sex slave for whatever I wanted to have done and he couldn't wait to let me have my way with him. He had been in a telephone relationship with another domme before who had forced him to perform some unusual tasks from a remote distance (they had never met)and now was looking forward to an interaction with a dominatrix who would take him to task in person. He is married. His wife does not share nor does she care to indulge in any of his fetishes, but she is aware of his needs. He said their policy had been "don't ask, don't tell". The night before our tryst he shared with me that he hadn't orgasmed in three weeks. Now she would be out of town for a few days and we could play at last in the privacy of his home. We had been talking about possible places to play but nothing ever came of it because of time constraints on his part, his high profile presence in the community and my general aversion to getting a hotel room for just a few hours. I cannot host either...have peeps at home. Everything seemed very promising. We hit it off well right from the start and "scored well" on several compatibility factors: intellect, "world view", personality, physical attraction and I had no problem at all with his particular fetishes. And the couple of times we had briefly begun to play....in his parked Mercedes in a nearly abandoned parking lot, and once at his office, there was clearly a sense of burgeoning excitement and anticipation. He wanted me to surprise him with the contents of my toy bag. So I left my house freshly showered (soap and water only, with no perfumes or extra scents, by his request) and drove to the appointed meet up place on a quiet residential street. I parked behind his car. He leaned into my car window and delivered a very sexy kiss, but it was brief because we were less than half a mile from his home and who knew which neighbor might be driving by. Risky. My toy bag went into his trunk and I went into the back seat. I had to duck down as he drove up the hill, the final block to his house. I glimpsed a breathtaking vista of the bay and the coastal redwoods as I scurried past his manicured garden patio and ducked into the cantilevered house that he had built here more than a decade ago. He admonished me not to speak or comment about his house because he wanted our focus of attention to be on our mission and not on his architectural confection of a residence. I agreed. Once inside, we retreated to our respective bathrooms to change clothes. It was almost like a ritual. I put on my corset,garter belt, black lacy stockings, my favorite pair of "fuck me shoes" (for fucking, not for walking} and a black velvet bed jacket tied with a satin bow. He appeared from the hallway wearing a plain black satin teddy over a tight black see-through body suit with a black girdle underneath with the crotch cut out. And black "faux alligator" leather high heels. His scrotum was protruding from the cutout area but confined by the bodysuit, and his penis was "tucked" invisibly away. This costuming was one of his fetishes. He liked to feel constricted and would often "hide" his penis...until I bid it forth. And he liked the feeling of being slightly "off balance" in the heels. All this was an integral part of his submission and abdication of control. Under his black satin teddy he was wearing nipple suction cups and they had been on all day. his nipples underneath when I popped off the suction cups would be about an inch long. He had prepared himself for hours the night before, he told me, wanting to be "cleaned out" and ready for what I had in store for him. First we had the "inspection". He had to turn all the way around on his wobbly heels while I scrutinized every inch and touched him where I wanted to, straightening a seam, or running my fingernails over his ball sack. I lifted up his silky black teddy and played with his nipples.I rubbed my fingers over them and lightly squeezed them, leaving the black suction cups in place. I bit them gently and cupped his breast tissue between my hands and squeezed. I removed the suction cups and licked and sucked his nipples. This was another fetish he loved. We had used nipple clamps on him during one of our shorter sessions and he had almost had an orgasm from it. This time I put tiny clothespins on his nipples. After we had stripped off the rest of his attire, he had to kneel at my feet and I attached a collar to his neck. Then the fleece-lined cuffs and anklets. I didn't tie him to the bedpost, but he was definitely my slut now. I put a blindfold on him and he reclined on the bed. I went to work on his body, using all sorts of tactile and mechanical means to give him a sensory smorgasbord. And then my oral ministrations to his now liberated penis drew the most rapt attention of all and elicited the deepest groans and the gasping breaths...a little lube, a little strategic stroking and...boom! The first explosion erupted as he squirted an incredible amount of lovejuice all over himself and into my hand. He rolled over on his side and licked and sucked every drop off my fingers. My turn now. Time for my nipple play and pussy worship. We put the suction cups on my nipples and they felt so exquisitely tender and sensitive afterwards, that I had a few shudders of absolute ecstasy when he nibbled and tongue washed those swollen tips. He moved his focus to the silky panties that still covered my<b> inner sanctum. </font></b>Before he finally moved aside the fabric to get at the blooming orchid between my thighs, I was laid back in something that approached reverie as his lips, tongue and teeth nuzzled and stroked and tugged at my velvety peach. Soon his probing tongue found my clit and stroked it to full erection, but the best part of all was when he fingered me deeply and targeted my g-spot and started my cascade of "female precipitation". He eagerly lapped it all up while I continued to gush. I had a Hitachi plugged in nearby, which is like a huge, obscenely vibrating dildo (it's actually a massage tool...with an ambition to be more than it was designed for!) and so we also applied its mega-head to my already throbbing clit and my vocalizations went up a few more decibels. When I was done coming for the last time...I lost count after seven...we paused for a moment, but we weren't done yet. Still wearing those ankle cuffs, now with caribiners attached, he rolled onto his back and I clipped his ankles to a spreader bar and that we hoisted over his head, exposing his lovely bum for me to play with. With a gloved hand, I poured some lube on his anal sphincter and started to stroke it in circles before I inserted my finger and massaged his prostate. Just priming the pump. Next came the butt plug with the little ring on the end...tug, tug tug and he's going out of his mind up there. What's next, my dear? Hang on to your ankles a bit longer while I get my strap-on. Needless to say, his final favorite fetish was thoroughly explored (to his delight) and exploited in several different positions till he almost begged for mercy. We had two more of his cum explosions (one between my breasts and one in my mouth) and we finally decided that we had exhausted ourselves. In only three and a half hours! We agreed to do it again sometime. After his trip to London with his wife. Oh my, yes. Can hardly wait. And now for the ironic twist. I got a text this morning with a very nice thank you for all I had done for him. But he had reached a turning point. The intimacy of having a scene like that in his own home and the surreptitious nature of it created something big in his psyche. He made a vow to resolve the issues with his marriage. And there would be no more playtime with my wonderful man-slut. Now, there is even more irony to this than that which meets the eye. If you only knew the situation my very good friend finds himself in (the friend I love dearly and for whom I am reporting this account, for his titillation and amusement), then you would see a theme recurring. There are certain things that will always remain beyond our reach. Though reach for them we may forever strive to do, they are but stardust and memories. Ephemeral and fleeting. Live for the moment, my friends. That's all we really have left for us. |
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Don't count us out yet... yes, timing is not on our side but we haven't finished our amorous encounters. My cock was hard as I read your encounter and can personally say that I have experienced your skills... and want to experience more.... more to cum....
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3/28/2012 9:21 am |
Don't count us out yet... yes, timing is not on our side but we haven't finished our amorous encounters. My cock was hard as I read your encounter and can personally say that I have experienced your skills... and want to experience more.... more to cum....
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thank you
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Sounds like a great encounter!
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Sounds like a great encounter! [post 3097853] Come join the half-nekkid fun! Check out HNW Bloggers.  
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