This post doubles as our Feb Photo Fest 2018 post for today. 

I don’t know that I’ll ever understand the fascination with someone watching someone else edge for them.  There’s an exhibitionist streak, there’s a voyeur angle, there’s just the hotness of it.  But it seems nearly universal.

She’s always threatened before.  She’s said that someday, she’s going to surprise me and have me entertain her while making dinner.  Apparently, this is the day.

I hear her call me to the kitchen, I swear I can hear something in her voice, but it passes and I don’t think much about it.  When I come around the corner to see what’s up, I can tell by the grin on her face that ignoring that edge to her voice was a miscalculation.

“Have a seat… after you undress of course…” I may have thought about objecting, but I know that would be a mistake.  As I sit down, she walks over and locks eyes with me, then starts stroking slowly, up, down, rolling me around in her hands.  This all takes about 2.34 seconds to get me hard and she’s grinning.  I start to say something and she puts one finger over my lips to silence me.

“There, that’s better.  So, here’s the deal.  I want you to follow my instructions, no matter what, and you cannot stop, but you also may not cum.  Do you understand?”

I look over and she’s undressing… “Ok.  Slow.  We don’t want things to deflate…”  Little chance of that I think.  She comes back over to me and locks eyes again, a huge weakness for me… and starts directing slowly… Up…….. down…..

 

And then walks away, just chattering like nothing is going on.

She’s working around the kitchen, doing this or that, and I hear the beep of the timer… then she turns to me… “30 seconds, 2x a second please…I’ll give you the rhythm,” and pushes start on the timer.  She starts counting 1 and 2 and 1 and 2 to get the rhythm she wants, then turns again to keep up the kitchen prep.

I can feel myself thinking “I got this!” – in that cocky (sorry) phase where you think control is a piece of cake and won’t even be an issue….

She sets the timer “Slow…. slow, slow. ”

She’s alternating between slooooooow and finally gets up to “OK, 30 seconds, and all I want to see is a blur” speed.

Oh, and that control thing?  Yeah.  No.  My head is screaming, it’s everything I can do to attempt to keep composure.  See, we’ve been playing with DD lately – and she’s getting quite the knack for welts.  This is NOT something I want to lose lightly….

I look over and now she’s doing this directing thing – she’s looking at me with this strange crazy smile and bouncing around from “Faster, faster, faster….” to “SLOW!!! Almost stop!” and just almost giggling at me trying to follow instructions while sorting out the sensations.

The “faster, faster, faster” keeps coming more and more frequently, I’m about to just give up and give in and just fly over the edge.

How does she always know?

“STOP!” rings through my head.  I don’t even really recognize it because I’m expecting slower, or whatever.  Then I hear “Catch” and in a flash look up as the bag of peas comes flying at me.

“You’re going to need that.  Back in the cage please as soon as possible.  Peas until then, no exception, I need to finish making dinner… You thought I’d let you?  Nope.”

Holy crap.  That’s cold.