|
Chapter
2
The phone rang. I did
the 100-yard dash from the back yard, and I nearly tripped over
Cleo to get it. "Hello," I said nearly out of breath.
"Well, you certainly
seem to be having a good time," the voice on the other end responded.
It was my girlfriend Gayle.
Gayle and I knew each
other since the third grade when she introduced me to the joys of
playing with penises. She had a willing enough cousin, and we played
with him often. Since then, we share everything about the boys we
knew.
We even double-dommed
in high school. Not that we knew too much about female domination
in those days. Heck we didn't even know the term. All we did know
is that we liked to tease boys and get them all hot and bothered,
and send them home with blue balls. We'd stay up all night at her
house or mine giggling as we fantasized how they would go home to
jerk off to relieve themselves.
We actually did team
up on one poor boy and teased him until he couldn't take it anymore,
and willingly dropped his pants and jerked off as we watched. It
was fun, and we were hooked on making males come at our command.
Good old Gayle! Well,
not so old. She was 25 like me. "I got your voicemail," she continued.
"What's this about your having 'fresh meat?' Anyone I know?"
"Sorry, Gayle, this
one's a newbie. I met him at the Botanical Gardens last week."
"Tell me all about it!"
she exclaimed.
"Well, he's late 20's
early 30's, about six foot two, maybe 200 pounds, all muscle ...
blond hair ... " I went on with all the vital statistics. All but
one that is.
"His cock, girl, his
cock -- how big is it?" Gayle said with exasperation.
I smiled, "He's got
it where it counts. He's about six and a half, but he shoots really
well."
"Mmmmm," Gayle cooed,
"Give me all the kinky details."
Gayle nearly laughed
as I told her about his fetish. "Sneakers," she giggled, "just sneakers.
That's it?"
"Yup," I replied, "he
just loves them. Starts dripping at the sight of them."
"So when do I get to
meet sneaker-boy?" Gayle inquired.
"That's what I'm calling
you about. Are you free Monday night?"
Gayle indicated that
she was.
"Good, be here at six.
Bring some wine. We'll make a party of it.
-=o=-
I never asked Bob if
he were available for Monday night. I figured if I wanted him to
be available, he'd be available. That's the way it's supposed to
work.
Bob arrived early. I
suppose it was because he wanted not to incur my wrath. I giggled
and sent him off to the laundry room to get undressed, and to put
on his sneakers.
Meanwhile, I slipped
into something more comfortable: A white knit top with blue trim,
short blue skirt and matching sneakers.
Bob came out of the
spare room preceded by his erect penis. I love my men in this condition;
totally aroused and totally in my control.
The doorbell rang.
"Answer that, sweetie."
I commanded.
"Like this?" was his
extremely predictable response.
"I gave you an order.
There were no qualifiers on it."
Reluctantly, he opened
the door. There on the threshold, was a giggling and grinning Gayle.
I could see Bob's penis
rise to greet Gayle as she stood there in her cheerleader outfit.
How I envied her! I could never fit in any of my high school clothes.
But she was an aerobics instructor, and that tended to keep her
weight down. She did substitute Keds for the Reeboks she normally
wore to the gym.
"Take Ms. Gayle's purse,
Bob. Don't leave her standing there like that."
I gave Bob a tour of
the kitchen and showed him where things were. "Now, I want you to
fix up some hors d'oeuvres and wine for Ms. Gayle and me. You can
serve us in the living room."
Gayle and I retreated
to my sanctuary. "Where did you ever get him. He's so cute." Gayle
cooed.
“He just followed me
home from school one day,” I laughed. “You should have seen him;
looking at all the girls’ feet. Now that I think back on it, he
was getting turned on by 11- and 12-year old girls. Well, their
feet, and what they were wearing on them anyway.”
Gayle looked as if she
had an inspiration, “You’re right! Some of those girls are big enough
to wear adult-sized clothes and shoes. A sneaker is a sneaker, right?”
Bob came bustling in
with the wine and some other goodies on a tray.
“Put them right here,
Bob” I said in my coolest tones.
Bob bent over and set
the tray down.
“Nice tush!” Gayle whistled.
Bob’s face reddened
as he stood our informal inspection of his body.
“Turn around,” I commanded,
“Show Gayle what you have.”
Bob stood up and turned
to face Gayle. Sitting as she was, his penis was just about eye-level.
She looked at it critically.
“They’ve certainly gotten
bigger and better since we’ve first seen one, eh Marylin?”
Bob’s blush extended
over most of his body by this time. His penis, however remained
hard, wet and dripping.
Whatever are we going
to do with this?” Gayle said mockingly while pointing at his penis
“Go fetch a chair from
the kitchen,” I ordered Bob. Gayle and I watched the sensuous wiggling
of his cute buns as he retreated.
Gayle looked at me and
mouthed, “What??”
“Oh nothing,” I responded
aloud, “I just want to give our little sneaker-boy something to
remind him of who’s boss around here.”
“Put it right there,”
I commanded, indicating a place in the center of the room facing
Gayle.
I walked over to the
chair, sat down, slipped off my sneakers and pointed to my lap.
Without a word, Bob walked over and started to get over my knee.
“Not so fast,” I admonished
him, “Let me get you fixed up. I slipped one of my sneakers over
his cock. “Now you’re ready.”
Turning to Gayle, I
continued, “Last time we did this, he made such a mess!”
Grabbing my other sneaker,
I raised it high and brought it down with the now-familiar “POCK”
sound.
Gayle sat watching,
smiling and sipping her wine as she casually crossed her legs, dangling
her foot inches in front of Bob’s nose.
I kept pocking Bob’s
ass until I had it bright pink.
“Had enough,” I asked.
Bob turned his tear streaked face towards me. It was answer enough.
After all, I don’t want to damage my toys.
“I think it’s time to
give him a rest. What do you think, Gayle?”
Gayle simply nodded.
That’s what I liked about Gayle. She always backed me up. Even when
I got some hair-brained scheme when we were in high school, she’d
always play along, even though she sometimes never knew what I really
had in mind. If it involved boys, she was always on my side.
I led Bob to the bedroom
on all fours the same way I did the last time I played with him.
“Mmmmm, this is making
me so wet,” I heard from the voice behind me.
When Bob arrived at
the bedroom, he found things differently then when he left several
days ago. There were cuffs and bungee chords laid out on the nightstand
next to the bed.
“Gayle, give me a hand
with these,” I asked as we picked up the cuffs and started t shackle
him to the bed.
One of the nice things
about bungee chords is that they are light weight, do not set off
airport metal detectors, and if you keep them with your bicycle
or in the trunk of your car, nobody questions why you have them.
Another nice thing is that they are so versatile when it comes to
bondage. You can rig them around just about every type of bed frame
found in hotels world-wide. Even better is that they give a little.
The bondee can struggle and pull at his restraints. He has little
potential for hurting himself, wile you get a terrific show.
Soon, Gayle and I had
Bob spread-eagle, face up on the bed. His penis was sitting straight
up and begging like a puppy for attention. Attention it soon got.
I undid the white laces
on my sneaker and used it to lash a small vibrator to Bob’s penis.
Putting the vibrator on low speed, I placed the sneaker over the
entire assembly. I held the whole thing in place with a bungee chord.
Gayle and I sat down
to watch the show. I lit up a cigarette and casually chatted with
Gayle about the daily events in our lives. Neither of us wanted
to give Bob the satisfaction that we were the least bit interested
in his predicament, but I could see that Gayle was sneaking furtive
peeks at him as he tried to hump and curl his body within the limits
of his restricted mobility. I had to keep from staring myself.
Bob kept straining against
his bonds, trying to draw his legs together. I could tell from the
noise made by the vibrator, that he must have been getting some
increased stimulation from the act.
Gayle and I continued
to sip at our wine.
Bob was tiring from
his effort. Looking at Gayle, I sought a non-verbal accord. She
smiled subliminally, and gave the faintest nod. I had her consensus
on giving Bob the coup de grace.
I got up and walked
slowly towards the bed. Bob strained to kiss any part of my body.
I stayed tantalizingly out of his reach. I slipped my hand inside
the sneaker and he moaned. I twisted the base of the vibrator. The
volume and tempo picked up.
I turned, offering my
shorts-clad ass to him. He kissed it and I giggled as I slowly sauntered
away.
Gayle and I sat on the
edges of our chairs as we had our eyes fixed on the spectacle before
us. We were like men watching the Super Bowl. We didn’t want to
miss the slightest bit of action.
Bob was wiggling around
on the bed wildly. He was trying to sit up, but the bungees prevented
that. I wondered for a moment if they’d hold, or f he’d break the
bedposts loose. He started convulsing his body. Shuttering, and
gasping he let out a yell. Every muscle in his body tightened. He
rocked rhythmically. The sneaker bounced up and down under the contractions
of his orgasm.
After a minute of this,
he collapsed, rasping and breathing hard. I stepped up, and approached
his spent frame. I looked at the pools of come seeping from under
the sneaker. Carefully, I reached in and turned off the vibrator.
I looked back at Gayle.
She was wide-eyed. “Wow,” she exclaimed, “You really know how to
show a girl a good time. Can we do this again?”
I looked at my bound
and content pet. He managed a weak smile and a nod.
-- Mule@tpe.com
For more stories try
http://www.tpe.com/~mule
|
