“Want to help me study, Melissa?”
I looked at the books spread out on the table. Craig was taking a course to become an EMT, and the amount of work he put into studying was intense. In fact, our erotic extracurricular activities had been sadly curtailed as of late. And when I say “sadly,” I mean no sex for Melissa sadly.
Craig and I had been like newlyweds since we’d met. You know the type. We made out in public, held hands in line at the grocery store, went for long rides in which I spent much of my time with my head in his lap. No question about it, we had the kind of white hot connection you read about in romance novels. At least, we did until he added those EMT classes to his schedule. Now, he was working his regular forty hour a week job and adding school and studying on top of that.
“Do you, Melissa?”
Oops. I hadn’t responded. I’d hoped that tonight would be different. Did he have to study on a Saturday? I’d even gotten dolled up in a brand new pale pink baby doll nightie and high heeled feather tipped boudoir slippers. Under my nightie was a pair of rose colored boyshorts I’d been fantasizing about Craig ripping off of me.
I didn’t say any of that, of course. All I said was, “Sure,” although my tone might have let him know that studying wasn’t my number one choice of entertainment.
“Great,” he said, his face lighting up with wicked intent. “I’m done with the book part of the coursework. Now I have to practice the hands on exercises.”
“What does that mean?” I was growing a little alarmed. “I have to act like a sick person?” The last time I was onstage, I played a munchkin in Mrs. Lincoln’s second grade play. I nearly fainted from stage fright.
“No, baby. I just want to use some different tools you know, to make sure I’m comfortable with them. I don’t want to get in front of the class for my final and choke.”
I took a deep breath. My Saturday night was rapidly going downhill. Was he going to bandage me? Take my blood pressure? Make me breathe into a tube? Then I saw the glint of metal something shiny was in Craig’s fist. I turned my head to try to catch what he was holding, but he kept the tool out of my sight. There was something odd going on. I could tell from a subtle shift in the air. When I looked into his green eyes, I saw a flicker that had been missing for the past few months while he’d been working so hard. Lust. Definitely lust.
“What are you doing, Craig?”
“You know, there are times when an EMT has to cut the clothing off someone.”
Oh, fuck. He had scissors. I murmured the word under my breath. Craig shook his head. “Not scissors trauma shears.”
Right then, I realized that our Saturday night wasn’t going to be a total loss. But what I didn’t realize at first was that this was the end of my boyshorts. I should have had more forethought. I ought to have said, “Let me slip into something old and ratty.” However, Craig didn’t give me a chance. But this was a unique situation. Craig had a brand new toy, and he was aching to use it. He wasn’t about to wait for me to change into old duds.
“Why don’t you get comfortable,” he said.
I looked where he was motioning. Did he want me on the sofa or on the floor? Before I could ask, Craig was helping me, spreading me out on our carpet, arranging me exactly how he wanted. That’s when I saw the rest of the toys. While I’d been moping in the bedroom, bemoaning the fact that our sex life had been so pathetically curtailed, he had been setting up for an all night extravaganza. On a scarlet pillow by the sofa lay an assortment of Craig’s favorite toys: handcuffs, nipple clamps, a vibrator, a ball gag, and more. Before I could take a full inventory, he reached for one of the toys, and suddenly my world went dark.
“Craig?” I asked tentatively.
“You’ve been so patient, Melissa,” he said, attaching the blindfold easily into place with the strip of Velcro at the back. “I think you deserve a night of total pleasure.”
I liked the sound of that. But I couldn’t forget the trauma shears he’d shown me at the start. How would they get along with the rest of his toys? I took a breath and tried to relax. “That’s a girl,” Craig said. “Deep, easy breathing.” He sounded like the EMT he hoped to become. His bedside manner was truly calming.
Then I felt the cuffs, and the word “calm” immediately disappeared from my vocabulary. “Craig.”
“Shhh,” he said. “I have a ball gag, but I don’t think you’ll need it.”
I bit my lip. Now I had on a blindfold and my wrists were bound over my head. Craig seemed to be moving around me, but I couldn’t imagine what he was doing. Not until I felt my legs being spread apart. What was he doing down there? My mind clicked into place as he wrapped my ankles in our sturdy leather thongs. He was attaching one of my legs to the sofa leg and the other to our antique table the very table he’d been studying at earlier in the evening. My mind began to paint pictures of the room: our Christmas tree in the corner, stockings on the mantel, Craig’s books piled high on the oak table, his study cards spread out. What a happy tableau the scene was until you came to me right in the very center of the room: a present waiting to be unwrapped.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. When I am in the mood, I have a very difficult time holding back. Before I even began to think about begging, I felt cold steel against my skin. Craig was running the edge of the shears up my leg. I shivered, but I didn’t move, didn’t speak. My whole body felt frozen except my core. My pussy was instantly hotter and wetter than I can ever remember it being. Craig had torn me out of a lot of outfits, but he’d never used scissors before. Why not? Why had it taken us this long to find a brand new tool?
I felt him reach the bottom of my baby doll nightie. I sighed. I liked this nightie, but I liked getting laid more. I heard the whisper of the scissors cutting through the fabric.
Bye bye, baby doll.
Craig spread the nightgown open. I felt his mouth on my nipples first the right, then the left. He breathed on them to make them hard, and I arched my back and groaned. My nipples are extremely sensitive. There have been times when I’ve nearly climaxed simply from having Craig tease and taunt my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. But I knew something else was coming. I’d spied the array of toys before Craig had begun.
Suddenly I felt something pinch. He must have set down the shears and reached for our beloved nipple clamps. Yes, that was definitely what he’d done. I swallowed hard as he tightened the clamps on my tits. The pinch and the pull made me more turned on than I’d been all night. That subtle throb of pain crested through me, made not so subtle when Craig tugged at the chain running between the two clamps.
“Jesus,” I muttered.
He tugged again. My pussy responded automatically, as if it were connected internally to my breasts. Each time he tugged my nipples, my cunt contracted.
“Do you like that?”
“Like” wasn’t exactly the word I had been thinking of. No matter how much I crave the experience, I can never grow entirely accustomed to the sensation of having clamps on me. This doesn’t stop Craig from using them often sometimes even slipping them on me in public, when we’re out to dinner or at the movies, knowing that I will do my best to behave and not make noise or complain no matter how tight the clamps.
Since we were home, I didn’t have to be quiet. But I also didn’t want Craig to use the ball gag on me, so I did my best to contain my noises to soft mewlings rather than flat out moans. I wasn’t doing a very good job, though. Each time he tugged on the chain, I gasped and groaned. When he relaxed the slack, my body would relax as well. Then he added a new trick to the program. He bent down and licked my pussy through my boyshorts. Oh, that felt good. I wriggled my hips, enjoying the feeling of his tongue, and then he tugged on the clamps once more. So that was the way he was going to play: a moment of bliss followed by a twinge of pain. No worries. I could get used to that.
Craig treated me to several long, slow licks of his tongue against the gusset of my panties. I held my breath waiting for the corresponding tugs on the chain, and Craig didn’t let me down. In spite of my effort to keep quiet, I groaned. He was nearly lifting me off the floor with each pull. And I was nearly coming with each lick.
But right when I started to get accustomed to the rhythm, the action stopped. There was a moment when I felt Craig looking at me. That might sound strange because I had the blindfold on. But we have been together so long that I know his movements. I was aware of his gaze, and goose bumps rose on my arms. He was staring at me I could easily imagine with that fierce look of concentration on his face. I know that look well. I’ve caught him with the same expression when he’s immersed in studying. But now he was studying me. What was he thinking? What was he planning?
Oh . . . I shouldn’t have wondered. Suddenly, I felt my favorite vibrator pressed up against my panties. A thrill ran through me. He was going to let me come! Craig was going to get me off, to let me reach that place of pleasure. At least, I hoped he was. I bit my bottom lip and let myself prepare for release. Except I couldn’t. I felt embarrassed by the position I was in. He’d bound me down, blindfolded me, and now was entirely in charge of my body’s responses. If he pressed the vibrator hard on my clit, I couldn’t help but moan. If he pulled back a bit, I arched greedily, searching for that rumbling motor.
“I want you to come for me, Melissa,” Craig whispered, and I sighed gratefully. “I want you to come so I can fuck that sweet, juicy pussy of yours.” His words ratcheted up my excitement. “And as soon as you do come,” he continued, “I’m going to cut those panties off you and put a clip right on your clit.”
Uh oh. Now I didn’t know what I wanted. He was promising me two things at once: pain and pleasure. But this was an odd situation pleasure before pain, rather than as a reward. If I let go and came, he would put a clamp right on my clit. The two desires warred within me. Craig took no pity. He worked that vibrator against my clit like a pro. But then he introduced something new: his cock, right near my mouth.
He must have stripped after blindfolding me. I hadn’t even stopped to consider what he might be wearing. I liked the fact that he’d been naked while moving around me and teasing me so sweetly. And now he wanted me to suck him while he used the vibrator on me. I tried to wrap my mind around how I must look, in a sixty nine with a blindfold on, while Craig ran a vibrator over my panty clad pussy. Then I stopped trying to visualize and simply started to suck. I got as much of Craig’s cock down my throat as I could, and then he really started to work me over with the toy.
My moans reverberated around his rod, and Craig moaned in return I know how much he likes the way my muffled moans feel against his skin. But he knows me, as well. He is fully aware of how I best like to use the vibrator, and he didn’t let me down. At the start, I always crave the barrier of fabric between my pussy and the bulbous head of the machine. Otherwise, the sensation is too extreme. Craig made circles with the sex toy over my clit, the larger circles that crested over my pubic bone, and then smaller circles within circles until he honed in on my hot little button. Ultimately, I couldn’t hold off any longer. I came like a powerhouse, my whole body trembling, my pussy tightening and releasing in uncontrollable spasms.
If he’d been fucking my pussy right then, I thought to myself. I would have milked him off in no time. As it was, I sucked him even harder, and then felt the way his body tightened right before he climaxed down my throat.
Immediately, the vibrator moved away. I heard the click as Craig shut off the toy, and then the cool steel of the trauma shears met my skin once more.
Bye bye, boyshorts.
As Craig cut me out of the panties, I wondered whether he really would do what he’d promised. Why I even questioned his intent makes no sense. He never lies to me. Still, I hadn’t fully formulated that thought before I felt the clip on my clit.
Holy fuck. I shivered all over, every ounce of energy in my body now focused on the tingling radiating from my clitoris. I started breathing hard, and I flexed my back as much as the bindings would allow. Craig chose this moment to climb on top of me and thrust inside my cunt.
Now my brain got confused. Enjoy the feeling of being fucked, or focus on the pain pleasure pain pleasure hum emanating from my core? I chose the former, because it complemented the latter. There was pain, yes, but the pleasure was so intense that it negated any pain. Craig knows exactly what I need. As he did push ups over my body, he made sure his cock hit all those perfect places inside me.
“Count down from ten,” Craig said.
“What? Why?” I imagined what he might be planning next. He’d already brought me to one quick climax.
“Just do it.”
I started slowly, “Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . ” and then I realized he was going to take the clamp off when I hit number one, and I sped up, “seven six five . . . ” until I reached one.
To my relief, he removed the clamp, and a rush of sensations raced through me. But now I could concentrate solely on the pleasure of the ride. Or could I? Before I could truly process the next part of the game, Craig was undoing the cuffs, untying the bindings, and then I was flipped facedown on the carpet, the blindfold still in place.
Where? What? How? Oh. Those trauma shears again, this time separating the baby doll up the back. Craig is nothing if not thorough. Then I felt something else. He had placed the vibrator under me and turned on the motor. “You hold the wand,” he said gruffly. “Do it the way you like.”
That’s why he’d taken off the cuffs. I obeyed the command immediately, taking over the controls, running that most treasured toy over my pussy. As I lost myself in the vibrations, Craig gripped my hips from behind. Soon he was in me once more, hoisting me up to my knees so he could fuck me doggy style. I strove to keep my balance on two knees and one arm as I continued to work myself with the vibrator. That felt divine. My muscles were feeling shaky, but I somehow forced myself to stay upright.
“Don’t you come until I say you can.”
“What? What do you mean?” I was already on the cusp again.
“Greedy little slut, don’t you dare come until I do.”
I had a vibrator pressed to my clit, and Craig’s rock hard rod throbbing inside me. What did he think I was going to do?
“Do you understand me?”
I might have nodded. I was lost in a no man’s land of worry. Would he notice if I came without permission? I had to think he would.
“Don’t you dare, Melissa. I’ll tell you when you can come.”
Shit. I lowered the vibrator. The building pressure to climax gradually subsided. But Craig was playing a mean game. “Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?”
“Craig!” I was beyond frustrated. He wanted me to touch myself, but he wouldn’t let me come? “What kind of twisted game is this?” I said before I could stop myself.
“Aha, so you do need the ball gag,” he said, and I went limp and uttered a halfhearted groan. I didn’t want a ball gag. I didn’t need a ball gag. But as soon as he said the words “ball gag,” my pussy got instantly wetter. Some dark corner of myself lives for the moment when Craig uses this type of toy on me. My faux protests didn’t hold water because I was already opening my mouth. Craig didn’t hesitate. He reached for the gag and slid it into place. I tasted the rubber and made a face, and yet my pussy clenched. There is no arguing with the way your body responds to stimuli and mine was more than responding.
“Now, let’s try this again,” Craig said, getting back into place behind me. “You work your clit with the vibrator, but don’t come until I tell you it’s okay. Do you get that?”
He entered me once more, and I turned on the toy. At first, I cheated. I ran the vibrator on my inner thighs, steering clear of my pussy. But Craig cottoned on to that immediately, because the vibrator nudged against his balls.
“Your pussy,” he hissed, grabbing a handful of my hair. I lowered my head and did what he said, one arm trembling, legs straining. What would happen if I failed? I didn’t want to think about that. Thankfully, Craig said right then, “I’m close, baby. So fucking close.”
I bit against the gag, let the vibrator press hard right on my clit.
“Now!” Craig demanded, and I came with him, gratefully, gracelessly, my whole body shaking. I dropped the vibrator. He pulled off my blindfold, and I blinked to see that we were in semi darkness, lit only by the twinkling bulbs on the Christmas tree. So romantic! I thought, but couldn’t say, as the gag was still in place. Craig undid the fastener, and I took in a deep breath. My body felt pounded. I was dressed in tatters.
“Poor little match girl,” Craig joked as he helped me out of what was left of my outfit.
“I really liked those panties,” I said sadly.
Craig grinned and grabbed a package from underneath the tree.
“Don’t worry,” he said in a deep Santa voice. “Even though you’re on the naughty list, you got a gift.”