Dear Shoeblossom
My wife Tilda was giving me a massage, after taking off my CB-6000 chastity device. She's a real teaser, and loves to rub my cock--a hand job goddess, that's my wife. I was lying on the bed, naked, with this collar on my neck that has cuffs on the sides for my wrists.
"You can't blame me, Norwood, I can't trust you, you know." Tilda always says this gaily. When I married the fastest of my runners when I was coaching track at Ohio State, I thought the former Matilda McPharlane would settle down.
But you can't tame Tilda! Everyone thought she would be so awed by marrying the former Olympic front runner Norwood Neumeister... Apparently there is a novel about a gay front runner, Tilda tells me quite often, which has certainly cut down on my bragging.
But Tilda really works on reducing my ego. She knew how hot I found the girls in their shorts, those long legs...they'd give me appreciative hugs, that kind of thing.
Tilda also knew how many of the young ladies on the team I'd slept with, before she and I settled down. She found my CB-6000 in a drawer, I told her I just played around with it.
But Tilly could tell when she was hanging out with a masochist. One of the reasons I left Ohio State was, Til had locked me in the belt for some time, a LOT of time, and then she'd invited a number of the hotties in the team over for drinks.
God, they looked so good that night! Instead of shorts and sweaty
T-shirts, the girls had been clad in nightclub dresses, as Til had promised to take them drinking on my dime afterwards.
And then she'd basically said to me, "Coach Norwood, if you want out of your belt, you have to choke your chicken in front of the team."
I was so frustrated and horny, and I reluctantly did it, watching the hot girls in their clubwear, those gorgeous long legs, such stockings...heels....awesome.
And it made it difficult to coach them after that! I quit mid-season to take a job with Blaine Vista Community College, which of course didn't pay that well. Til pointed out to me that since we were both trust fund babies, it didn't really matter.
Now I wonder if she'll make me jerk off in front of the girls on THIS team. There are a lot of white-trash bartender types at BVCC, and they all have big hair and are shameless flirts.
Sitting on the bed, Tilda was running her fingers up and down my cock. It had been almost four months since we'd left Ohio State, and a couple months before that when I'd last had an eruption...
In front of my formerly fawning team. I guess I should be lucky I didn't get some kind of harassment charge, right?
So I was lying there, very excited, and believe you me, I am very turned on, being Tilda's chastity slave. She whips my ass with one of my leather belts if I am late to dinner.
"Norwood, I remember when you kept girls late after practice...and what it entailed."
"But Tilda, I'm in a chastity belt! There's no reason for you to suspect--" But she'd ordered me to drop my sweatpants and lie across the ottoman.
Tilda's latest thing was to put a little cock ring with needles in the CB-6000, so I am brought up short when I watch my team run too intensely, oh, those gorgeous, bouncing asses!
Rubbing my poor penis, Tilda pouted. "Oh, I see all these little red marks, Norwood. I'm afraid you've been fantasizing again. Your dick is poking into the needles."
She slapped my cock and I winced. My arms struggled to get loose from the collar but it was tight.
"May-maybe I was excited looking at you, babe."
"That is such bullshit. I almost always let you out of your CB and toy with you in the evenings...that's what makes life worth while."
Tilda likes to watch these awful girly shows, and she plays with my cock during commercials.
But then she asks these detailed questions about the plots to "The Good Wife" or "Grey's Anatomy".
If I can't remember right (being all distracted from her um, handiwork) I go over the ottoman again and the leather belt comes out.
