15 minutes.

Have you ever wondered if you could maintain something for 15 minutes if the stakes were high enough, that you weren’t used to lasting that long unrelentingly?  How’s that for a question?

Well, I’ve thought about it.  I mean, not unprompted, of course.  The prompting comes from you…

You sit down, cozying up next to me with this grin on your face.  “We’re going to give you a test today!” is how you open the challenge.  “Do you have a favorite metronome speed?

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But that would be too easy…

It’s been a really long day and as we’re just sitting chatting, you keep talking, but stand up and do this extremely slow, deliberate undressing.  If you were only listening to what’s going on, you’d not even realize something had changed; you keep up the conversation, you keep asking questions, the whole bit.

But if I stop to watch, or make any indication that I “notice” (puhleaze, not something I will miss), you stop and just look at me until it’s back to normal. Then you move forward… button by agonizing button.  Untucking, undressing, even throwing in some gyrating…

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Just a Tug, and a Wrap

It started innocently enough.  We were messing around, joking about this or that, had already had dinner.  It was one of those really casual, easy evenings where everyone’s guard is down, everyone’s just relaxed.

I go to sit down next to you on the couch and don’t think much of it.  After I sit though, I can feel your eyes burning into me.  I look up to see that, sure enough, you’re staring straight at me with this… look.  You know me and looks, so I’m trying to figure out what I’ve done that wasn’t quite right.

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Sometimes I Talk Too Much

What a glorious day – the beach is beautiful, the sun is perfect.  Not too hot, but that special warmth on the skin that makes you want to just take pause and lean back and enjoy it.  There’s a slight breeze even, coming off the ocean and through the small bushes and trees up and down the beach.  We have this perfect spot, clean sand, some greenery, easy short trip to the cabana bar and just… silence.

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A Love/Hate Relationship With Changing Rooms

I really detest shopping for clothes.

No, really.

But, leave it to her to change things up and make it more… interesting.

Come on.  We’re going shopping for you.”  I grumble and groan, but gather my things and out the door we go to the mall.  I’m thinking it’s strange to go to the mall, we’re more of a “discount store down the street” kind of folks, but hey, I’m not calling the shots here.  I also notice you’re surprisingly dressed up… er, down for the event.  A sassy mini skirt and one of THOSE tops that shows a whole lot of cleavage.  I take it as a bribe and grin a bit.

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Game, Phase II Complete…

And the winner is….

No, seriously?  You’re still reading to find out?  Puhleaze.

We all know the naked truth here.  We know how the game is put together… always.

Some background – the game used trivial pursuit tiles (2 of each color) and a die.  I rolled the die and the number represented the question (1 through 6) on the card that I had to answer.

So in this round, I found out all sorts of things.  Things about Howard Cosell, movies, geography.  It was lovely!   See… I found out these things and learned them because I had no earthly idea about most of them before I started.  I mean, come on.  

SO, if I missed a question, it was a task of her choosing.  Sometimes she’d let me try again, with an unknown cost.  I had to say whether I wanted to try again before I’d know the cost.  What could possibly go wrong?

If I got it right, I could try again.  BUT, if I did elect to move forward, if I missed the question, I also lost any other tile earned that day.

If I got all the tiles in the allotted time, there’s a huge reward for me.  For us.  Definitely worth nearly any risk of tasks or cost of guesses, etc.

I nailed it.  You’ll see more about that in just a bit.  But… BOOYAH!

So I certainly had my fill of tasks.  These included things like massages for her, wearing a plug, a lot of writing posts for the site (stories, this post, etc.).  The thing that I most dreaded were the hidden costs.  Sometimes it was leg massage type things, at one point it was a certain number of O’s for her, etc.

But the hardest one of all – the cost to try for another tile on the very last night – was evil incarnate and something that just flat puts you in your place and realize just how little control I have after all this time.

She set a timer.

5 minutes.

You cannot stop me unless you want to stop the chance to get another question.  You may not cum.  You may not ruin.  IF you make it 5 minutes, you get another question to try to earn a tile.  If you do not, you don’t.  If you break the first part of these rules, you get punishment.

No problem.  I got this.  I can last 5 lousy minutes, right?  I mean, you’re sitting there, right now as you read this thinking “oh, COME ON!  That’s easy!  She let him off so damn easy!”

Well, sure.  When I have some management of stuff.  But she was running the show.  Suffice to say that it’s extremely frustrating how quickly someone can get you to crying uncle when they set out to do just that.

So I was treated to that giggle.  Her being so amused with the idea that I thought I could best it.

So, yeah.  I lost.  I got 4 tiles.  I worked hard for those tiles, but man.  To the person that invented trivia as a thing, they can go straight to, well, yeah.

So there you have it.  Phase II.  In the books.  And now I get to pay the penance on this one.  It’s awesome though.  This post and full body massage for her.  SCORE!

Touchless Torture

As we’re just watching some TV, catching up on a few shows, you disappear to the back of the house for a few minutes.  Happens all the time, so I didn’t think anything of it.

But then, just a few minutes later, you walk back out in this lingerie, heels, and nothing else but that smile.  I can’t help but grin too.  I mean, come on.  It’s going to be a great evening!  You pull me up to standing with just your finger under my chin – one long, slow motion and I’m standing.  And standing at attention.

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Pain is Confusing

I’ve written before that pain is this thing that I, at least, have this love/hate relationship with.  It’s really odd to me that at times when things are NOT going on, it’s this “aw, that was so nice!” and then you think about these romanticized memories of what went on.

In reality, it was more like “Mother-trucker!  That hurt!!!  @#^%@#%

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Like a Music Recital

After the day is done, we are starting to wind down, or so I think, and you tell me it’s time to head back and get the cuffs and remove my cage.  I look at you with an odd look on my face.  The way you say it makes it seem like there’s an appointment or something along those lines.  If there is, I’m missing it.  I am, however, not complaining.

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On Display

Everyone started arriving for the party and I noticed one thing in the people you’d invited.  They were all women.  You’d had presented the party as an afternoon get together – time by the pool, casual conversation, etc.  You’d asked me to don my very best attire (think dress shorts and a sleeveless tux shirt and bowtie) and provide drinks for everyone, playing up the service side to have some fun.  Nothing overt, just a ladies day at the pool, with service.

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So Wet

We’d spent the entire day walking and joking and eating and drinking and just exploring.  We’d never been to this town before – and that was why we chose it – just completely unknown.  Kind of lost track of the number of pubs and taste-testing of food.

It’s also been raining all day.  The kind of rain that defeats the umbrella – where it’s just insistent and continuous and you eventually almost give up on it… and just fold up the umbrella.

We’re soaked to the core.  The crowds are non-existent because of the rain and we’re enjoying just being silly, splashing around, goofing off a bit.

As night falls, the shops start to close up and we hunker down in a pub a bit out of the way that happens to still be open.  We’re looking for some drinks and food and you start dropping little hints.  You’ve turned the conversation into a bit of a Q&A, “what if I required you to do…” type questions.  It’s a little out of the blue, but for the most part, I can admit I’m game.

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