Fiona sighed contentedly as Brett lovingly caressed and massaged her feet. She loved this nightly ritual, a final bit of pampering from her husband as they went to bed. He would continue until she told him to stop. She smiled to herself remembering the night a few weeks ago when she had fallen asleep during his ministrations. She hadn't asked how long he had remained there, dutifully massaging her feet while she slept peacefully. There were no complaints the following morning. In fact he never complained much about anything any more, not since she began keeping him locked in a chastity cage. Well, at first he made an awful lot of noise about how infrequently she unlocked him, but he quickly learned that such complaints virtually guaranteed she'd keep him locked even longer.
She instructed him to move up to her calves. He gave each foot a tender kiss as his hands glided over her ankles up her legs. His strong fingers kneaded the muscles below, dissolving a knot that had been bothering her all evening. Some nights would stop here, with a thank you and a goodnight kiss before going to sleep. But tonight she was in the mood for more than a massage. She told him her thighs were a bit sore, a fiction he certainly did not believe. But it served as the cue for him to continue his journey up her body. She spread her legs slightly to make room for him as he planted kisses along the inside of one thigh. She could feel herself getting wet, and wondered if he could smell her excitement. She knew how much he enjoyed her taste, and she imagined his cage must be quite constricting by now. She decided to savor his tender kisses and make him wait just a little longer.
Eventually her own desire became too strong to ignore. She thrust her hips forward and commanded him to start licking. He eagerly complied, lightly running his tongue along the smooth outer lips of her pussy. Up one side, and down the other, ignoring everything in between. Tingles spread through her body and she spread her legs even further apart, opening herself completely to him. He pressed the tip of the tongue against her entrance, held it there for a second or two, then slowly licked upward, ending with the flat of his tongue pressing against her clit. She moaned softly in response. Another long, slow lick, and another moan. She wriggled her hips, trying to grind her aching clit against his tongue, but he pulled away. He continued, making her wait for each lick, and ending each one with just enough pressure against her clit to make her ache for more. She fought the urge to grab his head and pull him tightly to her. Instead, she grabbed the bed, her knuckles turning white. He knew her body well, knew exactly how to please her, and she just had to let him do his thing. But it wasn't easy when he insisted on going so slow.
Every once in a while his tongue would linger on her clit, swirling around it for several glorious seconds. Then it would disappear, leaving her aching with its memory. Little by little, the pleasure built, with more swirls and shorter pauses. She was breathing faster now, and moaning almost continuously. He slipped a finger inside her, then a second. The two fingers pressed against her from the inside while his tongue traced little circles around her clit. The combination was electric, she could sense the ultimate pleasure hovering nearby, getting closer and closer, but still just out of reach. Then suddenly it was upon her, crashing through her body as she writhed beneath him. With each wave, her pussy clenched around his fingers, until only the echoes remained and she lay there in utter bliss.
She beckoned him to lie next to her so they could cuddle. She rested her head on his chest, enjoying the closeness. These peaceful moments afterwards were almost as good as the orgasms themselves. Her hand moved down his body until it found his caged cock. She toyed with the cage, now slick with precum, then cupped his balls in her hand. Every several seconds she gave them a very gentle squeeze, each time causing him to moan. She kept this up for a few minutes, enjoying how desperate it was making him. His tension was palpable. She knew there was a single question on his mind: would she unlock him? He was forbidden to ask, so he had to wait, never knowing if the next squeeze would be the last, or if there was something even better in store for him. Sometimes she knew the answer in advance and had already planned how the evening would proceed. But today she hadn't given it any thought until now.
He'd given he a wonderful orgasm, and had been a very good boy all day. But he was good nearly all the time, and she certainly wasn't going to unlock him every time he gave her an orgasm. How long had he been locked? She couldn't remember, but she was certain he was keeping track.
"When did I last unlock you?", she asked.
"Eight days ago, my love," he replied.
"And how many orgasms have you given me since then?"
"Five, counting tonight, my love."
