After the Garden Party

"But how long will we stay?" I asked, as my beautiful wife parallel parked her sleek, black 2000 Camaro into a space right in front of Susan our hostess' house.

Christine loved the car, a gift from me two Christmases ago, made memorable because my princess had been so thrilled she let me sleep with her for the first time in several years (and the last time since then).

"Not that long, honey...I know you hate these afternoon parties, but Susan is counting on me..." Christine looked at me imploringly, batting her eyelashes.

"You promised I could watch the Dolphins play Minnesota if I cleaned the house..." I was whining. Smiling, she traced her magenta fingernail across my crotch area.

Immediately my penis swelled within my jeans. Oh, God, she looked so good, too, in a pink summerdress with a very low cleavage. I wasn't often allowed to see my lovely wife in the nude, so I was easily aroused by her brief dresses and bikinis...

The night before, during "milking hour" she'd worn a hot pink tube top that I think she stole from my niece. "Big Boy, you're pulsing..."

Christine tossed back her long blond hair and squeezed the bulge in my Levis. "Lot more room in there, huh? Someone likes traveling around without his cage." She unzipped me and my cock jumped out of the opening with a will of its own.

Turning off the ignition, Christine put her hand on my member, wrapping fingers and thumb around the base, and began pulling gently. "If you're a good boy..."

Pushing her hair back again, my Princess leaned into my neck and began giving me a hickey, which I interrupted my tilting up her chin and plunging my tongue in her mouth. We necked, and she stroked my burgeoning cock, occasionally tickling the tip with her long nails...

My penis turned to near-granite in her soft white hand... her fingers wandered up and down my shaft, gradually getting faster, and I felt that familiar surging from my testicles..So close...would this be my first orgasm in nineteen days? Christine referred to my periods between orgasm in a matter of months or weeks such as

"You didn't fix the sink, another week in the belt" but I counted by the days...Her tongue felt so good exploring my mouth, "tonsil hockey, we called it in middle school.

God, she's not let me kiss her this way since...Suddenly the stroking stopped, and she pulled back. "Let me cum, PLEASE..."I mumbled into her cheek. She slapped my cock lightly.

"Put that away, what's wrong with us." Christine tried to look severe, but you could hear the giggle in her tone. She folded her hands primly and watched me stuff my straining erection back into my bluejeans.

Seeing my dejected face, Christine whispered in my ear "I let you go out without the cage, didn't I? If you're a good boy at the party, you might get a special treat later on...I feel like getting laid!" She flicked her tongue in my mouth once, and got out of the car.

I watched her cute little butt twitch as she walked into the Aldrich's back yard, greeting Susan's husband with a too-friendly kiss. Was she sleeping with HIM, too? What was the last special "treat"? A year ago, after we'd arrived home from an awards ceremony in which I was honored for designing the cardiac ward where I was chief surgeon, Christine had stripped me of tuxedo and chastity belt.

She'd cuffed me hand and foot and laid me on the living room floor, where she brought me to a thundering orgasm by slowly rubbing my cock into the Oriental rug. Sixty-six days celibate, I'd not been due to come for another month for leaving the lawn mower in the rain, and it'd been a wonderful surprise.

I still remembed her looking indulgently down at me in her glittery party dress with that Mona Lisa smile as I squirted all over her stockinged toes... it was her way of telling me she was proud of me!

"Margo, this is Dr. John Sidwell, and his wife Christine." Susan introduced us to another woman, and her husband... we all looked at the fountain by her garden.I tried to make pleasant conversation, but all I could think about was my "treat" later on...

Though I'd introduced Christine to femdom and tease/denial games more than a decade ago, sometimes I missed having regular sex with her.

I especially suckling her large, succulent breasts, usually forbidden me, except of course for the night she'd gotten a $65, 000 car! "Honey, I'm going inside to the bathroom." Christine turned and looked at me, and leaning over, she whispered in my ear. "Don't you play with my little dingie in there, or you'll have that cage on with no relief for the next six months.

Two minutes! I'm timing you." She patted my butt warningly as I headed for the "loo". I sat on the toilet, pants down, and began tentatively fingering my member.

Damn! My fingers weren't as soft and skilled as my Princess' but it had been a while since I'd had had release. At least thirty-seven days...no, thirty-eight, and last time I'd come she'd made me rub my cock on the leg of my grandmother's mahogany secretary.

I could...no, she promised me a treat, possibly she'd have sex with me! I heard a knock on the door. "Number two in there?" came Christine's lilting tone. "Otherwise you should be out here, entertaining us with your sparkling wit."

The rest of the party was leaden for me. A few of the women were quite pretty, none so much as my Princess, and every time I shook hands or hugged one of them, my wee-wee tingled. A few of the guys asked me if I wanted to come into the den to watch the pregame show, but I stayed close to my Princess.

Susan eyed me strangely, and I realized I was playing "pocket-pool" rubbing my dick through my Armani pants. I kept whispering "Can we go?" into Christines ear, and she looked at me quizzically...telling me with her blue-gray eyes to bide my time.

Once she flicked my crotch with a long nail, and I almost collapsed on Susan Aldrich's floor. My next two requests to use the rest room were cruelly denied. Finally, she made her good-byes with her now inarticulate doctor husband.

I tottered out of her car finally, and attempted to make my way into the house. Christine stopped me, and gave me a big, warm hug...pressing her boobs into my chest, she looked up into my eyes.

"Was...I good?" I asked disbelievingly. "Do you..really want to..." I didn't want to seem too hopeful.

Christine smiled, and pushed back her hair. "Baby, you know I never lie...but we have to do it my way! Let's go inside." I looked at my watch as we went in. Only three p.m.! We had hours...

All right, Big Boy, get naked and bring me some wine" Christine's eyes sparkled. "Bring it upstairs to my room." About thirty seconds later I ran into her bedroom, totally nude, with my cock and balls dancing.

She had the master bedroom in our house, and I slept in what had formerly been our maids room til a few years ago, when my Princess decided we didn't need household help.

I handed Christine the wine. Although she hadn't removed her sundress, she had undone a few buttons, and I could see the outline of her lacy Frederick's of Hollywood brassiere, another gift from me, I'd never been allowed to see it on her.

I knew however, she wore it for someone, because I had to wash it at least once a week. She saw me looking, and pretended to be embarrassed, buttoning one button.

"Honey, I thought you were getting undressed!" I felt ridiculous, as always, in my birthday suit with her fully clothed. By now I should've been used to it, huh? Putting the glass on the end table, Christine opened the drawer and took out...THE HANDCUFFS! "Oh baby...I thought just this once..." I pouted miserably, but my cock was rigid.

Christine giggled, and waved her finger, silently ordering me to turn around. After my wrists were secure, she giggled again. "Patience, my Big Boy...I said I'd get laid eventually, didn't I? Lie down on your back, you know how..."

She then took out another set of cuffs, and secured my ankles together...here I was, in the "milking" position quite, quite familiar to me these last ten years.

Still, my cock rose, expectantly. Her tits bouncing in the snug sundress, Christine took the lube from the drawer, and set it down beside my right thigh. She'd switched from baby oil the year before because it gave me a rash. She then sat herself down and smiled at me.

"Johnny, I know you want more, but I think we should start out with the usual" Start out? Maybe she would eventually sit on my cock. My Princess scratched the tip of my penis lightly with her long purple nails, and then squirted some lube in her right hand.

"Now the good doctor's going to feel nice." She rubbed her hands together and then put them around my cock in a sort of praying position, rolling it as if it were a burrito.

Then my ambidextrous wife began rubbing my shaft with her right hand, and tickling my balls with her left. "Can't you take off SOMETHING?" I pleaded, and she shook her head, but seeing I was near tears, a pitiful situation for a forty-six year old surgeon, My Princess unbuttoned enough for me to see the black cups again, and jiggled her cleavage at me.

Christine smiled, putting her tongue between her lips, and pulled up her dress a little, so I could check out her gams. Though I'd just shaved them this morning, her legs never failed to thrill me.

As Christine varied between the quick up and down rubbing motion, causing me to arch my butt off the bed to meet the strokes, and the slower version, where she inched her purple-tipped forefinger agonizingly up and down the shaft, I began to beg...

"Sweetie please... you did this for five HOURS last night, and then threw me into a cold shower with my cuffs still on! It was supposed to be different, you're driving me CRAZY..." I was rumbling, it seemed, in my groin...and all she did was reach her bare size 6 footie and cover my mouth..

."Too much talk, Big Boy..." Her hands and feet were quite soft, as I massaged them every night with Lubriderm before I gave her blonde mane its customary two hundred strokes with the elephant tusk hairbrush (and then she gave me two hundred and fifty somewhere else).

Oh, God, then I'd trudge off to my lonely room, butt blistered and penis surging i its cruel prison...but that was nothing compared to this afternoon. A Treat! She PROMISED! "Christine!" I pleaded with her, as I struggled with my wrists.

"I thought we'd do something special!" "Isn't this special?" That little girl smile! Christine licked her upper lip, putting her tongue between her teeth. Her forefinger middle finger were rubbing my cock right under the now purple head. "Do you want me to stop? I could do the laundry..."

"No, no, .." I yapped. "It's wonderful! But I thought we were going to do something closer...this afternoon..." Though I had captained the debating team at Stanford, there was little chance that I could talk her into anything...that evil girl! Christine picked up the remote and clicked with one hand. "The football game?" I asked.

"No no...'Mildred Pierce'...I love Joan Crawford" ************************************************

It was nearly six o’clock. "Mildred Pierce" was long over, as was a horribly boring Martha Stewart show, though I hadn't paid much attention to that.

I was still lying down Christine had shifted me face-up over her lap, my rear end balanced on her shapely thighs. Her hand cupped under my testicles and was moving the fingers of her other hand around the head of my cock...

Twirling it as if she were unscrewing a child-proof cap of Bayer aspirin. Four times in the past three hours she had interrupted the tesae to sit on my face, where I licked her to many powerful orgasms

"If I'm going to get laid I'll need some foreplay." she had explained...and for a period of thirty excruciating minutes she'd leaned back in a chiar by the bed and tantalized my poor pecker with her bare feet, the toes painted the same shade as the wandering fingers... But now we were back to the eternal masturbation "Please, please...Princess" I begged "Let's have sex, it's been two and a half years, and five before that time...you wanted it right? Or let me cum Christine, ...it's been THIRTY-EIGHT days...you've been rubbing for HOURS PLEASE!" Giggling, Christine rubbed more lube into my over-filled scrotum. "All you think about is sex and cumming."

She played with my foreskin. "BUT YOU CAME!" I begged, a little too loudly. Christine interrupted her massage of my scrotum to squeeze my balls lightly. "Are you raising your voice to me?" Ooh. The pain was not excessive, but it was enough.

"No ma'am" I replied meekly as Christine released the sack and went back to pulling the base of my shaft. "Take your time, Princess, please."

I got a beautiful smile just then...and she winked! God, the cum was surging up, but Chrsitine kept squeezing the base to slow it down. Finally, she got out from under me, lying me back in the now hateful "milking position" My cock was so engorged I was considering amputation..

."Do you notice your pee-pee matches the shade of my violet nails?" "YES!" "Are you crying? I thought you did ROTC..that's not manly." Christine took her hands off my cock.

"You know what, Johnny?" Christine leaned back. "It's time to get laid."

I looked at her with misty eyes..."Really?" I began babbling "Oh baby, you won't regret it...I'll paint the house, anything..

.".That wonderful wet pussy...Oh, I need it. Christine smiled and went to the phone. "What are you doing?" I asked. Was she ordering a pizza? "Hello?"

Christine leaned into the phone. "Jamal?" She was talking to my Physician assistant, a nice colored kid, but a little arrogant..."Yes, your mother's really gone?...I'll meet you in twenty minutes. Dr. John? No he's away, and we have an open marriage..."

* * * * *

It's ten-thirty, and she's still gone. My cock is still hard, and I've been crying on and off for four and a half hours...I can't move because the cuffs are still on, and I have to pee really badly...I can't even watch television...she turned it off so I could think about how great it is getting LAID!! Waaah!