I walk in the back door and you’re standing there, wine glass in hand, smiling. After a quick kiss, it’s clear you’re anxious to tell me something – so we pause and I look at you expectantly. You grin, and hand me a piece of paper, about the size of a notecard.
On it, I see “Rules – follow the clues. The time it takes you to solve this, to find the end surprise, is the time you’ll have to wrangle an O for yourself. How cool is that?”
I’m confused. I don’t really know what you mean, and there’s no clue on the card. Nothing else. I look at you, wanting ask, wanting NOT to ask, all at the same time.
I flip the card over and over, then look back at you, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, but of course THIS is your first clue,” you say. Handing me the card. One says “instructions” the other says “clue.”
The instructions say “solve the puzzle, have some fun. But first, clothes must be UNDONE. Get nekkid, my dear Snake.”
I look at you – this time it’s you with the raised eyebrow.
I look at the clue side of the card. “Your clue to go where the furniture pipes are…”
I start to walk toward some new furniture we have that uses that style. You grab me by my belt loop and stop me cold. “Ahem. Clothes first. “
I strip, then turn and look at you. You’re making a show of looking me up and down, and I wander off, wagging a bit for your entertainment. Sort of like that GIF in Twitter with the Minion walking away, kicking off the clothes.
I get to the room, there is a card on a shelf, and lube. I stop – this isn’t – at all – what I was expecting. I turn to look at you and you’ve dropped into the couch, wine glass in hand, waiting.
Instructions: “Edge. Here, Standing, Now. 2 times.”
Clue: “Where wet becomes dry again.”
Your key to my cage is on the shelf under the card. I’m suddenly very uncomfortable with this game. You know I’m awkwardly shy about all of this, and you love pushing those buttons every chance you get. But… you did mention a nice surprise at the end of all of this, and you are the one calling the shots, so…
I do as I’m told, which is a struggle standing up, particularly on #2. The first is sort of “getting there” but then #2… well, as soon as I get to #1, you wait about 5 seconds and tell me to begin again – no recuperation or pause, now. I do as you say and I can feel my body responding internally. I can feel that anxious feeling and feel that pressure.
I get a little closer than anticipated, but stop just in time. You look at me, “wait, please. That was really close and we need to make sure nothing is going to surprise us quite yet.” I stand there, regaining my composure, and start drip ever so slightly.
“Hmmmm….” you say, and come over. You run your finger up the underside, drawing out another couple of drops. “that was…. close. You might want to be careful. More careful. As the instructions were clear – and didn’t include ruined or O’s. It would suck to have to find out the consequences of a mistake. Trust me.”
You sit down on the side of the coffee table while I re-read the clue. “Where wet becomes dry again.” I think about your nightly baths. I head to the bathroom, but there’s nothing there. I go to the towels in the closet. Nothing.
Pausing, it hits me what it probably is and head to the dryer. Sure enough, inside the dryer, there’s the clue. And lube.
Instructions: “2 more edges please, and this time, you must ask to stop. Which DOES NOT give permission to cum. Not close enough? Penalty and re-do. Can’t control? Big penalty.”
Clue: “Keeping time with the music”
I get my head adjusted, trying to understand. I guess I need to ask early? To hope you’ll be ready to stop?
I start stroking, still sensitive, still a little drippy. I start to get close and ask to stop, starting to gasp a little. “Yes” you say, immediately. I stop, thinking I nailed it pretty good. “That was WAY to early,” you say. “Try again now. Does not count.”
I hadn’t counted on the variability of your control over this. I’m starting to sweat.
I start again. My head paying attention, my mind calculating, guessing at how to cut this closer, but still have the option. All the while getting closer and closer. Feeling my body respond, my mind argue, calculate.
I’m extremely close… “Please may I stop?!??” I gasp out, still going, still getting to the point of no return.
“Please?!? I need to stop. May I stop????” I gasp out again. You look up like you’ve been reading a book. You take a sip. Another. Then say simply “Yes. Much better. That’s 1.”
I stop, pulling out every technique I know of to stop the already started orgasm. I feel it running through me, wanting to burst out and all I can do is bend over a little, trying to hold on for dear life, to keep things from going all the way.
I just realized you’re counting down from 10. My body is still convulsing inside. Still trying to go over the top. “4, 3, 2” “Please – I need a longer time…” I say, still fighting.
“Nope.” you tell me. “1, 0. Now please. Begin again.”
You repeat it. The huge delay between asking and stopping makes it nearly impossible to get quite right, but the first time you immediately tell me that I can stop, that it’s wasn’t good enough, to try, try again. This make it the 4th attempt at 2 edges.
This time, it’s so close when you finally say I can stop, that my hand draws away pulling drops with it. We both look expectantly in an almost comical way, just waiting. Seeing if my body will complete the rebellion.
You look at me, take a sip of your wine, and say “aw, come here, you. What a great job you did. Don’t worry about the clue. Let me give you that well-deserved O.”
I do a double take and slowly walk over to you. I have a smug expression on my face, feeling like I finally won a round. Booyah!
You take me in your hand, lock eyes with me and say simply “April Fools.”