You’re Going to Have to Work for It…

I’m feeling really lazy, and like, well, switching things up,” you tell me. “And besides, I like to watch you. So… here’s the deal. You get to cum!

I smile. Then my brain kicks back in and I realize there must be a catch. There’s always a catch. Some weird twist on things or some other tweak you’re putting in the mix.

I’m not wrong.

I need you to come on back in about 5 minutes,” you tell me. That grin on your face has me pressing against the cage, and has me wondering at the same time. It just can’t be said enough, it’s just rarely ever that easy with your sexy games and challenges. I just know this will be no different.

I count down the minutes, anticipating, but nothing really comes to mind. You’ve not hinted, you’ve not suggested anything, I’ve gone back over our private messages to see if I’ve missed something. Nothing that stands out. I’m baffled and you clearly have the surprise advantage.

I slink down the hall and into the room and you’re laying there, on the bed, lacy black and red that fits your body like a glove. These stockings to die for, your hands behind your head, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I look you over, seemingly from head to toe, wanting to take in every single curve, every single little bit. I start at your eyes, of course. That have a sparkle in them, and they’re looking at me with this somewhat evil “wait for it…” look.

I trace down, purposefully focusing on every inch. Your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

I follow your arm down just a bit, then take in your body.

You’re smiling more broadly now as you see my eyes fixate on your strap-on. It’s right there. Has been. I somehow missed it, but I’m not missing it now. I look again at you, you waggle your eyebrows at me in an almost comical way, then you look down yourself.

You grab your “cock” at the base, then swish it back and forth and in little circles. Then you look at me – “Doesn’t this seem like fun? I think so. And I did promise you…

Get that cage off,” you say, “we don’t want to make this too difficult” as you hand me the keys. I’m straining against the cage anyway, this isn’t going to be easy. Somehow I slide the tube off, work my way out of the base ring and am standing there, literally and figuratively, waiting.

You pull out the lube, wave me over and put some in my hand. “Get this sucker good and ready,” you say, making an almost game show hostess gesture at your silicone friend as you put some in your other hand and reach out and make sure I’m fully coated. You take extra time making sure every bit has been massaged and then tell me to turn and bend. I look at you, questioning, then I get it.

You make sure things are slick and then spin me to face you. You lay back and tap the head of your silicone cock. “This is on you, I’m here to, well, support you, and watch. Oh, and I’ll also hold this…

You pull out a silicone sleeve, “it has ridges for your pleasure!” you tell me, laughing.

So, here’s the deal. You stop moving, I not only stop moving, but also take this off you entirely. You keep going, I match your movements – deep, shallow, fast, slow, whatever. If you stop, you can restart, but if you, um, remove it, we’re done.

But, you may go until you cum. Edge if you dare. Take your time, have fun with it, whatever you like. Oh, and no closing your eyes. I want to see you, I want you to see me, and I want you to see me seeing you, if you know what I mean…

I nod.

I’m not so sure about this. I’m thinking to myself that I’ve never been on the receiving, and driving, and controlling end, especially not quite like this.

I straddle you and the silicone cock, I grab it, position it and as soon as it touches me, you slowly slide the sleeve down over me. And stop.

I press down… .slowly. I feel it press into me, I feel the sleeve pulling slowly up my cock, I feel you squeezing me.

I press down more, and feel it enter me, and continue on, impaling myself. I stop, hesitating for a moment. Your hand has slowly traveled up and down me at this point. It stops.

Remember. Eyes open, on me. And stopping is ok, but dismounting is not. And nothing, and I mean NOTHING, moves without your movement.

I slide slowly up, then back down, you keeping pace as I get used to this. Get used to your eyes locked on mine. Your hand on me, you inside me.

Very good,” you tell me. “Very good.”

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