Sunday, June 10, 2012


Some of y'all have been encouraging me to post more of my writing here. This is a scene I had to cut from a story I've been working on for submission.

“But I’m not gay.”
My blurted remark halts the conversation with a thud. Seagulls pick up the slack, filling the pregnant silence with their screeches. A gust of wind off the bay provides a brief respite from the sweltering July sun.
Lady Sara leans against me, gropes my ass, presses her bikini-clad tits into my bare chest. Her eau de SPF30 and DEET invades my nostrils, hinting of sex. On her, everything hints of sex.
“I know you aren’t, darling. I want you to blow him anyway. For me.” The tip of her tongue in my ear punctuates the sentence.
The ‘him’ in question is our friend Chuck. We’re at the summer home of him and his mistresswife, Lady Diana.
Lady Sara fondles the stainless steel chastity cage that encases my cock and prevents my erection. It’s been one hundred days since my last orgasm.
“Mmm. I’ll get so wet watching the head of Chuck’s cock push past your lips and thrust in and out of your mouth, knowing you’re doing it to please me. You want to please me, don’t you Andy?”
More than anything else in this world.
She traces lines up my crotch with the tips of her fingernails, on either side of my cage, sending a chill down my spine.
I have a hundred tricks for distracting myself when a stray sexual thought enters my mind. They’re all impotent against her full frontal assault. My cock strains against its confinement in futile protest. Tease, and deny. Turned up to eleven.
Chuck looks like he would rather be anywhere else right now; Lady Diana appears to enjoy watching me squirm perhaps a bit too much.
Lady Sara toys with the key that dangles from the gold chain around her neck. “Blow him for me and I’ll unlock you.”
I don’t want to, and yet I do. The thought of taking Chuck’s cock in my mouth makes me nauseous. I live to please her. There’s a delicious agony between the end of my comfort zone and the edge of my limits.
“Okay, but he doesn’t come in my mouth.”
She cups my balls with her hand, taps on the bottom of my sac with her fingernails. “Unh-uh. He comes in your mouth, and you swallow, or no release for you.”
My shoulders slump in surrender, my submission complete. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Good boy.”

1 comment:

  1. Wow, not at all what I was expecting - but very good. I, too, associate the smell of sunscreen with sex. :-)