(Mrs. Edge was on a business trip for about four weeks in July. This series details some of what transpired upon her return.)
“I wasn’t planning to let you out,” she said. “I hope you weren’t expecting it.”
“I… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that,” I replied. “I, umm… I’m not sure I’m ready to come out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure. It’s like I’m settling into some kind of state of arousal, and it’s been good. Really good.” I stared down at her, feeling the warmth of her hips against mine. “I mean, it’s completely up to you, of course.”
“It’s just that I feel like I’m into some kind of good place right now, and I was sort of hoping that you wouldn’t let me out right away.”
She stared at me for a few moments and smiled. “When I said I wasn’t going to let you out,” she replied, “I was talking about this week, and probably next week, too.”
We both moaned softly as we kissed.
The scene was a motel room a little after midnight, somewhere out in the Midwest. Mrs. Edge and I were finally together — and alone — after her month-long business trip to Bangalore. We were attending one of her family’s annual get-togethers; this year her cousin was hosting, to save time, she flew into the nearest airport, and the Edgelette and I drove out to meet her. She was still jet-lagged, and I had driven the second half of a 1,200 mile trip by myself, the Edgelette being a few years from driving age. Of course, with those long, flat roads, it was tempting at times to simply let her take the wheel — I mean, who would know? Anyway, I got to her cousin’s place that evening, and by the time we made it back to our hotel, we were both exhausted.
We splurged on a suite room, so we could have some privacy: a locking bedroom door, with a queen sized bed. Despite the both of us being tired, it was our first opportunity to be alone; the flat screen tv was on the guide channel with the sound off, simply to provide some soft back light to our make-out session. I was on top of Mrs. Edge, and we had been kissing and nibbling each other for a few minutes, and it had made me very hard inside the cage that she had locked onto me four weekends previously.
Her body was warm in the air conditioned room; my own body was already heating up, and the cool sheet felt pleasant on my back. We kissed more passionately. I hadn’t expected anything more, since I knew that we had both been on the verge of dozing off less than an hour before, but feeling her breasts against my chest, my cage pressing against her ass, and her warm breath on my neck kicked my libido into gear. My hands roamed over her, squeezing, caressing, holding. Her hands and lips responded in kind.
“Did you bring the equipment?” she asked.
“I’ve got everything in a small bag inside my suitcase,” I told her. “I brought the harness, your favorite cock, plus one of the older ones, just for some variety.”
“Mmm, my favorite one. Did you bring some lube?” An early menopause left Mrs. Edge with a need to use personal lubricant, and we’re always looking for something that works well, isn’t too sticky, doesn’t taste bad, and will work on my own cock and the vix-skin auxiliary one.
“Of course. I also brought spare parts for the cage,” I told her. “A couple of extra rings, spare pins, locking pins, the second lock, and one of the old cages.”
“Good, we wouldn’t want any accidents, right?”A few years ago, the cuff ring had broken during some really hot sex while we were on vacation. I was 4 1/2 months into a 6 month term, but we removed the cage and continued. At the time she chided me for not having a spare (as if I would have known this could happen). I took advantage of being out by… well, that’s another story.
“I can be ready in a minute, if you’re up for it,” I told her.
I nuzzled her neck. “I know you’re tired. Maybe just a little to help you get to sleep.”
She acquiesced. “Just a few minutes, okay?”
A minute later I was tightening the straps on the harness and warming the cool silicone in my hand. I climbed back onto the bed and tucked the shaft through the ring so that it sat low on my body, right above the cuff ring for the cage. I rubbed a squirt of lube around the tip, and positioned myself over her. She reached down and guided my cock — my other cock — into her. She removed her hand and I slowly pressed my hips into hers. I took another few moments to snug and reposition the straps so that I could better feel her through the friction, and holding myself up on my elbows, I began slow, deep thrusts.
I looked down at her, but she already had her eyes closed and was telling me how much she missed me, how much she missed this, and how horny she was over the last week. “And I kept thinking about you, all locked up back home, how you couldn’t even touch yourself,” she added. “Tell me about those dreams you’ve been having.”
“”Later,” I said, kissing her neck. “Let’s just get back to this slowly.”
She shook her head. “Tell me how much you missed this.”
I pressed my lips to her ear. “Oh God, I’ve been going crazy these last couple of weeks. I kept waking up in the middle of the night, and I couldn’t even play with myself to help me get back to sleep. Oh, you feel so tight.”
Her eyes were still closed. “You can feel it, can’t you?”
“Yes, you’re so wet.”
“You don’t need your other cock in me, do you?”
I reached my arm around her back and pulled her closer. “This is my real cock, isn’t it? It’s all I need.”
“And you don’t need to come yet, do you?” Her breath was coming faster now.
“All I care about is making you come,” I whispered. “That’s all I want.”
She moaned aloud, indicating that I’d given the right answer. I heard her breath catch a little and she arched her hips to meet mine. Several months of serious exercising allowed me to hold a position that is particularly good for her, and I knew she was only seconds from a climax. “Honey,” I whispered, “I want you to hold me tight when you come.” Her calves were already wrapped around mine, and she tightened her hold. Her nails clawed into my ass as I edged her upward, all the while whispering in her ear that I’d waited for her, and that I didn’t want to come until she allowed me, and that it was only her pleasure that I had in mind. In response, she lifted her hips into mine, and I felt her body tense up. She kissed me deeply, then broke contact to gasp for a breath. Moments later I felt her relax in my arms and sink back to the mattress.
“That was so good,” I cooed in her ear. “I could feel how strong that was. Damn, I missed this so much.” I continued to encourage her by whispering to her and kissing her neck, forehead, lips. I resumed my slow thrusting, and soon she was moving her own hips to meet mine.
“And what were you doing while I was locked up, halfway around the world?” I asked her. “Were you rubbing yourself every night to get to sleep?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t touch myself at all. I wanted to save it up.”
I was so surprised that I actually stopped mid-stroke. “Not even once?”
She was adamant. “No, I really wanted to get myself all hot for when I saw you again.” She was starting to breath faster now. “I kept thinking about the last time before I left, and making you put the cage back on, even though you didn’t want to. I didn’t start getting horny until the third or fourth week, but by then I wanted to make sure that you got the benefit.”
Mrs. Edge is not known for denying herself much, so this was an interesting — and arousing — confession. I pressed my hips even closer into her, until she gasped. “Oh, I feel your cage against my ass. You’re so hard in there.”
“If you were saving it up, then I’m going to make sure you got your money’s worth,” I told her. “I’m really horny, but for some reason, I’m not ready to come yet.”
“Are you holding back?”
I kissed her some more. Often, I get so aroused that just being up close to her, pushing and thrusting, the base of the other cock pushing against my abdomen, and the cage bumping against the warm cheeks of her ass, causes me to have a release of sorts. Just to keep ourselves straight, we call this a “release,” because it’s not quite an orgasm, and sometimes it happens before I’m even aware that it started. Mrs. Edge is fascinated by this, and alternately tries to provoke it, or will demand that I hold back. Sometimes she tells me that the release will be the only pleasure I’ll have, making it unnecessary to allow me out of the device.
“I’ve been doing Kegels for the last couple of weeks,” I told her. “I can hold back anything, right now.”
“Jesus…” Her eyes were closed again, and she tipped her head back into the pillow.
“In fact, I’ve been practicing them so I can be a good lover when you do let me out.”
“If I let you out,” she corrected.
“Mmmm. I don’t ever want to come unless you give me permission,” I murmured into her neck.
She lifted her hips to meet mine again. “Yes, only me.” She was panting. “Only coming when I say you can…” She tipped her head back and opened her mouth into a silent “O.” I continued to whisper little nothings until I heard her sigh, and felt her body relax.
I gradually slowed my thrusts, stopping gently so as not to disturb the moment. I kissed her, more tenderly now, and brushed the dark hair from her eyes. She looked sleepy. “Are you getting tired out now?”
“I thought I would be,” she answered, “but I think I’ve got one or two more left in me.”
She declined to offer of more lube, and I once again began my slow, deep thrusts. She ran her hands around my back. “I can feel your muscles,” she said, “So sexy.” I liked those pictures you sent me.”
“I have more that you haven’t seen, the ‘not safe for work’ ones.” I added, “You’ll have to see them when you read some of my articles.” I gave her a very tame and diluted version of the dreams that I’ve been having. Despite the fact that she was aroused and actively participating in trading fantasies tonight, I was still unsure of how she would react. In the past, I’ve seen her get a little freaked by them, and I really did not want to ruin the night, or perhaps even the week.
We made love a few more times, whispering to each other a variation of our shared fantasy of keeping me locked up for a long time. Interestingly, she specifically asked me to talk to her, to tell her things that I might enjoy (or not). Even more interesting was that she, herself, did quite a bit of talking, telling me her own ideas of the sweet, sensual torture she has planned for me. Mrs. Edge tends to be quiet during lovemaking, although she has always enjoyed me telling her little chastity fantasies. I was pleasantly surprised to hear her whispering creatively into my own ear.
“You have to tell me if you’re getting close,” she said. “I don’t want you to release. I want your full attention. I love it when you’re all horny and attentive with me.”
I paused, trying to figure out where she was going with this. I try to tap into her fantasies if I can, to urge her on. “I’m not close yet,” I told her. “I’m totally focused on you, right now.” I watched her bite her lower lip, so I nuzzled her neck, kissed her ear. “I don’t need a release, as long as I get to make you come. I need you to come for me. I need to feel it, to hear you.”
She moaned softly and nodded her head, saying “Yes, oh yes. No coming for you, just for me.” She was talking to herself as much as to me. “Oh, yes, that’s how it’s going to be…”
I quickened my pace, and reached up to put my hands in her hair. “Can you come for me, now? Hold me, I want to feel you.”
Wordlessly, she clutched at my back, and she sought my mouth with hers. My tongue flickered around the inside of her mouth, echoing the pace at which my hips were pounding into hers. My normally quiet wife made short, little moaning noises as I alternately kissed her and encouraged her with little whispers in her ear. Suddenly
she pushed her hips up and leaned her head back into the fluffy white hotel pillow. She held tense for a few moments and then settled into the bed. “Jesus.” she said softly, “I think that gave me a headache.”
I continued to nuzzle her softly until she indicated that she needed some sleep. I removed the harness and dildo to clean them in the bathroom sink. She followed me in shortly, sat down heavily on the toilet, peed, and tottered on shaky legs back to the room, where she half fell back into the bed. I joined her a few minutes later, curling up behind her, spoon fashion. Propped up on my elbow, I kissed her neck and shoulder, and told her that I loved her, and had missed her. She reached back and placed her hand on my cage, feeling my hardness under the cuff ring. “Poor honey,” she said, sleepily. “Are you going to be all right?”
I nibbled her shoulder again “I’m a little charged up, but don’t worry. I’ll read for a bit after you go to sleep. How about if I hold you really close for a while?”
She nodded and made little appreciative noises as I curled my arms around her and pulled her close to me. I knew she could feel the cage pressed up against her ass, and my warm chest against her back. She was asleep in less than five minutes, and a short while later, I softly rolled onto my back and covered her shoulders with the sheet. I picked up my Palm from the nightstand and tried to read for a while, but I was too distracted. I was thinking about the really nice, intense sex we’d just had, and how it dovetailed with the ideas I’d been having for the last week or two.
In fact, for the past two days driving out here, I’d been trying to organize my own thoughts on the whole chastity and denial relationship that we have. I was hoping to get some time alone with her to talk about it. I shut off the Palm and put it back on the nightstand. The clock said 12:39, and despite being aroused, I was strangely satisfied. I curled up behind her again, and, pressing my hips against her warm ass, closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.