I'm already in bed, reading, when my wife enters the room, a devious grin on her face.
"Hello, sweetheart," she says. "Did you miss me?"
"Always," I reply, honestly. She's still wearing the sundress she wore at dinner, revealing her shapely calves and her bare feet, not to mention a hint of cleavage. "Did you finish the movie?"
"Yeah," she shrugs. "It was, meh. But the company was good."
That causes me to stir a little bit, although nothing could be more innocent.
"Your dad gives good foot-rubs."
Okay, that does more than make me stir. The sudden picture of my wife and my father, visiting for the weekend, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. Her turning sideways, and putting her bare feet in his lap. That was wrong.
My wife and I are both 35. My dad just turned 60. He and my mother got divorced about six months ago, and this is his first visit to us since then. He seems completely normal... neither depressed, nor ebullient and gloating over his freedom. It's been a nice, comfortable visit.
She's standing in front of her dresser, brushing her hair. "So, I'm kind of in the mood to play a little." Now I'm standing at attention in my boxers. But when she turns around, I see she's reached into her top drawer and pulled out the chastity cage.
"Ummm," I pause. "My dad's here!"
"Psssh," she dismisses me. "He's on the other side of the house." She extends the cage to me. "C'mon, go put this on."
Well, I'm almost always up for a little bit of kinky fun. So dutifully I get up, take the device from her, and step into the bathroom. I brush my teeth again, and then stand over the toilet, waiting for my erection to subside enough to urinate. (I never know how many minutes or hours I'm going to be in this thing, better plan ahead.) Finally I deflate enough that I can spread some lotion over my penis, and push it through the tube until my glans fills the bulb at the end. I fit the pin through the little hole to connect the ring to the tube, and head back into the bedroom so my wife can do the honors with the lock and the key.
When I emerge, my wife has changed into a stunning sheer white gown. It would be nearly floor-length if she was standing up, but she's sitting on the bed, one leg tucked underneath her. It's so diaphanous I can see the fullness of her breasts; the dark circles of her areola. The distinctive lack of panties.
I approach the bed and stand there as she inserts the hasp of the tiny padlock through the hole in the pin, and secures it with that delicious "click." Then she leans in and kisses it... not my penis, not the cage, but the lock itself. I feel myself swelling again, but fruitlessly now.
She pats the mattress and I lie down, my back against the pillows. I'm naked except for the cage now. She runs her manicured nails down my chest, past my belly, stopping just above my crotch, and then back up again. Then she reaches behind her and reveals the wrist restraints. Oh. She wants to use those, too.
I compliantly lift my arms above my head, and she straddles my chest to affix my wrists to the headboard. I can feel the heat from her pussy on my sternum.
