More games

I tend to sleep in stretches an hour or two at a time. The first time I woke I was disoriented. It took a minute before I knew where I was. I looked at my phone and it was three a.m. Andrea was fast asleep. My phone showed one dot of signal but it disappeared as I watched. At least my movie and text from earlier in the evening had actually gone. When it went--or more important, when Carol got it--I had no idea. I hoped it was before she slept, but who knows.

I woke again at four thirty in a panic. No idea what I’d been dreaming about but it can’t have been good. I missed Carol; I wanted to talk to her? Wanted to check that she wasn't worried. Lying there in a strange bed felt weird. Hotel beds like I’d slept in for the last week feel like a hotel, much the same everywhere. This felt different; it had an atmosphere, a personality. Andrea had a different scent, breathed with a different rhythm, the way she curled up in bed was not the same. She might have as good a figure as Carol, as pretty a face, as bright a smile— but she wasn't Carol.

Lying next to her I knew more than ever before that whatever Carol wanted to make it work, I had to be assertive about it. I couldn't have Carol making the rules. We could work together but I wasn't going to be an unhappy wimp in some femdom game.

My big problem was how hard to be. The last week was so up and down that I had no sure feeling about what lines to draw and where to draw them. Deep down I'd rather Carol didn't fuck around. If the last two weeks were any guide then if I wanted to know where she was and what she was doing all the time I'd need a lot more stamina, maybe more than I had.

We needed to find a way to trust each other, but what did that mean? Worst case, it had to be me trusting that she'd always come back to me, but that felt too risky. Dean and Jay were probably safer than I'd made Carol believe— Dean had a wife at home; he couldn't risk taking anything unwanted back to her. I'd checked his bathroom cupboard; there was no sign or antibiotics or HIV treatment. Making Carol get tested was more about education, about me being assertive than it ever was about a real risk... I think. Other men might not be so safe, especially if she thought she had a free rein.

None of this was the right thing to think about in the middle of the night in a strange woman's bed— but it was hard to get out of my mind.

You might think I should have left right then, but we'd gotten here in Andrea's car; calling a cab from here wouldn't be easy, I didn't have an address and there was no signal on my phone. I could wake Andrea but I'd promised I'd wake up with her and a promise is a promise in my book.

All I had to do right then was find a way to get back to sleep. Not as easy as it sounds. After ten minutes of staring at a ceiling I couldn't actually see because Andrea has blackout blinds, I slid out of bed and crept downstairs. I found some milk in the fridge and drank half a glass— I guess I could have chosen whisky or some other booze but right then I wanted to settle my stomach and leave my brain alive.

I tiptoed around the house, ending up in that room full of mirrors she called her office. This time I got a closer look and saw the stuff on her desk. There was a seemingly random mix of drawings and photos, and I understood the mirrors. All the pictures were of Andrea wearing pieces of cloth, draped in every way you could imagine around her naked figure. I could see where her ideas came from. The artist in me made sense of the pictures and sketches.

I don't know why but looking at those images I imagined one reason why her husband might have left. Andrea was obsessed with her image, but a constantly changing image at that. Those papers on her desk showed a dozen different Andreas; my guess was that every day the poor guy came home he might find a different woman. It wasn't just the drape of the fabric or the impact of the colours; in every picture, there was a different woman. Same face, same legs but somehow she seemed to disappear into the dress. My guess was that Dean was the final straw. I don't know the story; she may have had a run with Dean because her husband was up to no good. Best not to make assumptions, but sure as hell this was a woman obsessed with looks.

The last thing I saw before I crept back upstairs was the fax that she'd sent to Carol. The original was hanging out of the machine. Across the top, she'd written—

Sorry I stole your husband, come and get him back if you can.

Under that was her address.

I didn’t read the other two pages; I guessed they were all about the contract. I’d read enough to be left wondering what the hell would Carol think when she read the handwritten message? What did 'if you can' mean?

I crept back upstairs trying not to think about Carol. I wished some clever author was writing this story, not me. He would know what Carol was thinking, he could see her in bed, know if she was sleeping, know if she was sweet dreaming or having nightmares. All I can do is tell you how I felt.

Conflicted— that's how I felt. I'd promised Andrea that I'd wake up with her, promised her sex before breakfast. I needed to give her a good start to the day, but now I knew that there was every chance that Carol would appear, but exactly when I had no idea. I had to give Andrea what she craved and not leave her being so loving and attached that Carol smelt a rat. For a guy who'd never been unfaithful, who'd only had sex with one woman in ten years before tonight, this was going to be a hell of a morning.

I cuddled up close to Andrea, thinking as hard as I could about how much fun she would be in the morning. I needed to wake up with a hard-on and no doubts.

I don’t know who woke first; I think I felt her in my arms before she rolled over and kissed me. I felt her breast against my chest, her thighs wrapping around me and then a hand creeping down to hold my cock. Being half awake, out of my depth and in a strange place somehow distorted my sense of time.

Everything seemed to take forever, like a slow-motion lazy Sunday, but I don’t think I breathed in and out more than twice before she’d eased me into her. She held me, working her hips around and up and down, nestling against me, joining us like we were glued together.

It happened so fast and yet so slow at the same time that my brain had no control. Everything was visceral and instinctive. I tried hard to be objective; that sounds heartless but I was torn. I wanted Andrea to have a great time but I needed in my heart to be true to Carol. What did that mean?

It's kind of impossible to think about philosophy and the meaning of life and marriage and all that when your body is being enjoyed by a woman who has longed for the last six months to wake up with a man. Her needs were raw right then, before her whole brain was awake, before she'd wrapped all the usual conventions and social niceties around herself. Right then it was skin on skin.

One arm was wrapped around me; the other was working my cock, while her lips were all over my face. She smelled good, she felt good, warm and kind of soft and firm at the same time.

"Come on me," she said. "I want you on me, I want you in me."

"What about—"

"I'm safe," she said, kissing me between every word and breath. "I'm not a fucking optimist. I need a man but I don't need kids."

It's a weird thing but on top of a strange woman, looking at a face I didn't know, it changed things. I was feeling my way, studying her face, looking for signs that I was doing the right thing, hitting the right spots. The deeper I got the more I could see her going misty, getting into herself, into some zone where what mattered most was what was going on inside her.

I reached down with one hand to find more buttons to press and stopped worrying about my weight on her. We sank deeper into the mattress. The physical contact was exhilarating but somehow it still felt like an academic fuck if there is such a thing. I know some women like to be taken, to feel like they're an object for the man's pleasure, my pleasure. It didn't feel like that. I could feel her need, six months of an empty bed. I knew what the tears and frustration must feel like... I'd been there myself when I started to worry about what Carol was getting up to.

I worked to get beyond the intellectualising, get past it, be in the moment. I felt as though I was soaking up her pain, pulling it out of her, letting her be the woman she could be, not the wannabe wife she'd been for the last six months.

Okay, so that's all bullshit but I wanted her to have good feelings, to be a woman that could pull a man in and enjoy it, and feel so good she'd know she could do it again.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was telling Carol what I was doing. That inner voice was giving a running commentary as if Carol was there. I know I'm not a telepath and neither is Carol but I knew I'd have to own up to the whole thing and tell every detail if she asked and I think my brain couldn't help rehearsing it.

"You're good," Andrea whispered. "Where've you been all my life?"

I almost said, married to Carol but stopped myself. I didn't want to spoil the mood. I allowed myself a kind of giggly sigh— what's that called— a gigh maybe? or a siggle? 'Siggle' sounds better to me. I've heard people make that noise plenty of times and I don't know a word for it. I kept going, working harder using my cock and fingers and working my pelvis to make my cock hit different spots inside her. I could feel her rising into an orgasm and when it came it was an earthquake. She really must miss those kinds of mornings, I thought.

I let her wind down, ignoring what my cock was telling me. I promised a three-hole experience, and I'd done that last night. I hadn't promised to fill every hole over and over. About then I thought about condoms. We used one last night but that had been the one I planned on using in the morning. I should have grabbed a handful. The way she'd gone on about missing mornings I'd kind of assumed that she must be clean, but that didn't follow at all. A woman that needy might have fucked anything that was going.

"That was so good," Andrea said. "So good. He's a treasure, isn't he."

Who the hell was she talking to?

As I wound down from my exertions I heard a sound behind me— clapping. Not wild applause; slow steady clapping, not quite sardonic, but with an edge to it.

I rolled off Andrea to see Carol standing in the doorway.

Gasp— adrenaline surge— panic... all of that, but Carol was standing there dressed in nothing but her chastity belt.

I was shocked, sure, but her being naked put a different spin on everything. What shocked me most was how the hell she got in the house. The clock showed two minutes after eight. The doorbell hadn’t rung— what had I missed?

Carol ignored me and spoke to Andrea.

“Marks out of ten?”

I looked back to Andrea, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

“Hard to say,” she said. “I’m out of practice.”

“Compared to Dean?”

Fuck, I thought, Dean of all people, big cock, big ego Dean; how to make a guy feel small.

“So if we said Dean was a seven?” Carol said. “There’s a lot hanging on this.”

My heart sank.

“I’d say a nine.”

What? I must have looked shocked.

“Care to elaborate?” Carol said.

What did I do right?

“Dean is a good fuck,” Andrea said, sitting up in bed, “but he’s all Dean. Maybe at night if I was feeling randy, gagging for it, maybe a little drunk, then Dean is good value. Waking up with Dean's ego, no way, I wouldn't give Dean more than a four in the mornings. Your man was tender and caring and looking out for me, the best kind of wake-up.”

“So where did he lose a point?”

“He was thinking about you.”

Carol laughed. “He’s losing another point from this judge. No condom, so I lose out until he’s tested. He knows the rules.”

“I’m clean, honest.”

“That’s what they all say— that’s what he told me. Each day I’m denied he has an extra day in the cage and I get a hall pass.”

Carol fixed me with what a penny dreadful would call a cruel smile. She had me on the back foot and she knew it.

“Where were you?” she said. “I thought the plan was to come back to our room and buzz me when you fucked her."

“I tricked him,” Andrea said.

“You told me you spoke to Carol,” I said.

“I did say that, didn't I?” Andrea grinned. “I couldn’t resist— wicked, I know. I loved the feeling. I almost came just saying it.”

I started to feel like piggy in the middle.

“When you girls have finished could someone tell me how you got in?” I said, trying to get Carol’s attention.

“Andrea knows,” Carol said. "There’s more important things to deal with first.”

“What?”

“My key first,” Carol said. “Unlock me and then we can talk.”

The key was in my pocket where I put it before swimming, along with the remote control for the vibrators that I assumed were still nestling inside Carol.

“It’s downstairs,” I said, leaping out of bed and setting off barefoot and running. I should have thought twice; when I got to my jacket the key wasn’t there, and neither was the remote.

As soon as I turned around I could hear the laughter. I strolled back upstairs, getting my breath back. Carol stopped me at the top of the stairs, holding a finger to her lips. She wrapped me in a hug and whispered.

“Let me play it.”

I knew I was being played but what choice did I have?

“How did you get in here?”

“Key under the doormat. Now wait here a second,” she said and went back into the bedroom.

When I got into the room Andrea was wearing the chastity belt.

“Now,” said Carol, “we even things up. Chris, lie on the bed.”

I did what I was told.

“You are going to get me off,” Carol said, “and Andrea is going to show me how good she is at edging you. I know that’s a bit cruel but you two owe me so you’re going to work it off.”

“Why the edging?”

“To make it last, silly and for a bet. If she lets you get soft the price on that contract goes up a grand and if you come too soon it goes up a grand.”

“What’s in it for me?” I said, feeling like I was walking the plank.

“It’s like this,” she said. “Right now you have two days of cage after you get a clean test, plus eleven days because I was cheated out of eleven hours last night— thirteen days altogether, right? Every time I come I take a day off the total. Right now you are looking at thirteen days of being at home caged while I can go out and fuck anyone I chose.”

Was Carol for real or was this a game to impress Andrea? There was no way I could find out. For a second I was annoyed; between the two of them, I'd been set up. If I'd turned Andrea down it wouldn't have done Carol's contract any good. When I got Carol on her own I'd sort it out. I took a deep breath and tried to carry on the game.

“Can I—“

“Ask a question?”

“Make a plea?”

“Of course, my love.”

There was no way I was wearing that cage a second after we got home, but if Carol wanted to play games to show off to Andrea... well, I could bluff as well as anyone.

“Please promise to stick to safe sex and not with Dean or Jay under any circumstances.”

There was a long pause. “What do you think, Andrea, does that sound fair?”

“Yeah, those two ought to be off-limits, but can I put the cage on?”

Carol giggled. "This is fun. Yeah, why not.”

“Can I keep the key?”

“You hear that, darling? She wants to keep your key.”

What was the best way to play this game? We hadn’t had breakfast; I was starting to feel hungry. If Andrea had the key, I had the bolt cropper. I could play this game.

“Whatever you decide, love.”

Unless Carol had thrown away the bolt croppers I had a way out and I had enough money in the bank to buy as many croppers as I'd ever need. There was no way I was staying caged when we got home.

“Andrea love, it’s a tempting offer,' Carol said, "but I’d be cheating you if I said yes because there’s a spare key at home in a sealed envelope. Nice try, though.”

That wasn’t exactly true because the key in the envelope key fitted the lock I cropped, but what the hell, it ended that conversation and it told me that Carol was playing games. Carol’s vulva came down on my face and I started to get to work. Every pussy is different but I knew my way around this one and I knew what my tongue could do to every fold and crease. From where I was, my hands were free to roam. I could massage, tickle, press, penetrate and I knew how Carol reacted to every one of those things.

I did wonder if Carol was going to be difficult, make it hard for me to work on her, but I needn’t have worried. Kneeling with her legs either side of my head and angling herself forward, she could have taken my cock in her mouth— I was surprised she didn’t. She must have had a great view of whatever Andrea was doing.

I suspect that Carol was making sure that she could interfere if she felt like it. I felt as if I was walking two tightropes at once, one foot on each rope and likely to fall in between or off either side. Did Carol really think I'd go along with being locked again? Had I misjudged the last week? Was she trying to get her own back on me or was she just teasing?  With Carol exposed in front of me and an incentive to get her to come fast and often, it was difficult— I almost said 'hard'— to pay attention to what Andrea was doing to my cock. If I was going to achieve a good result with Carol then the other end would have to fend for itself.

After Carol's first orgasm I understood her plan. Carol was making me concentrate on her so Andrea would lose out at her end. If I got too excited about Carol, then I'd come and Andrea would have to pay Carol money, and if I got too wound up concentrating on Carol and went soft at the other end Carol would get paid again. Carol couldn't lose.

For a few seconds, I was lost in admiration for just how smart my wife was. Did she guess there was a key under the mat? Did she risk hanging around outside for ages if there was no key or if we were out? Neither of those seemed to fit the woman that was pulling this awesome stunt on my face. My admiration got her off again. Great, only eleven to go.

Then it hit me that if I came I'd lose out. That would bring the whole thing to a standstill. Andrea would lose and my chance of getting a few more days off would be gone. Well, I wasn't doing this for real; as soon as we got home this game was over.  

My tongue was getting tired. I wrapped my arms around Carol's pelvis and pulled her onto me. I could hardly breathe but I could suck her clit into my mouth allowing my tongue and lips to work a different way. With luck, Carol's brain was full of feeling high because she'd pulled such a great trick on us both. I shoved my tongue as deep as it could go, working from side to side, pressing the upper sides of her vagina one way and another until the next climax arrived.

I know Carol; once she is on a good enough high she can come and come, but I needed to leave little rests so that she didn't count the whole thing as one. I tried to totally relax, tried to think what I'd missed. Was there some way that Carol got a message from Andrea that I didn't see? I'd read the fax she sent... I'd read the front page— but was there another scribble on the last page telling her where the key was?

Maybe that was it. I let myself relax. This had to be a setup. Andrea must have guessed Carol would come early— maybe they even set the whole thing up when they met yesterday. Andrea saying she'd phoned Carol last night was a blind, a trick to put me on edge.

I pushed Carol up enough to be able to twist my head a little and get a good breath. On the side of the bed, I saw the remote to the vibrators Carol was wearing yesterday. I reached out and got my fingertips on it. So tempting but out of reach by a centimetre. Damn. I closed my eyes and started to turn back to attending to Carol when I felt the thing drop into my hand— Carol— it had to be Carol playing games again.

She's so smart, I thought, she deserves every orgasm I can give her. I went back at it as hard as I could but my right hand was starting to press buttons as I worked. I actually felt the vibrations hit Andrea, or more exactly I felt her lose rhythm and concentration on my cock.

After that, I worked the vibrators, a little of one and then a little of the other and I felt the tempo improve. I had Andrea on remote control. Carol must have been able to see what was happening because she ground down onto me as some sort of reward and I felt her come again. At least we're in single figures now, I thought.

I guess Carol thought that was enough of a treat for me because the next thing I knew she grabbed the remote out of my hand— I guess she saw the impact it had on Andrea, who knows. After that, I felt a mouth on my cock again. I had no idea whether this was Carol or Andrea but I knew I had to resist.

Carol started teasing me, pressing her vulva down and then easing up out of reach and then brushing sideways. I think she was trying to stimulate me to make me cum, or maybe she was giving Andrea a lesson because I don't think she was doing too well at the edging. Carol wanted me nearer to coming. That was crazy, really because she'd lose money if I did— a better deal for her was if I got soft, that way she'd cash in and be able to come around again for another go. If I came, it was one shot and no more.

Unless, I thought, her real plan was trapping me into as many days of being caged as she could. She wasn’t going to win that one, whatever she thought, but that idea hit me in the gut, made me think I had it all wrong again and that had an impact that gave Carol another pay-check.

It could get boring describing the way everything went for the next hour but the upshot was that Carol got an extra five grand on the contract and I got my so-called punishment down to five days and then we had breakfast. I can't remember what we ate.