That gave me a full house, beating Patrick’s straight!
A whoop of triumph left my lips. What an incredible rush! I mean, it’s sweet to win, but when victory drops into your hands after escaping from the clutches of almost certain defeat it has the saccharine scent of honey and the unbearably, indescribably delicious taste of a preposterously decedent dessert. Although I’d won in February, this was so much better than that first adventure, and it was a rush I knew I would just had to have from time to time.
Patrick got just the gloomiest look on his face, poor dear, now that he was a career 0 for 2 in our little erotic bets.
But I’ll turn this over to Patrick now.
* * * * *
In the NFL an official would have thrown a flag at Roberta’s egregious touchdown dance. But here in our living room there was nothing I could do about it. Man, this sucked! I was really hoping to win this time after having to surrender to her after our last bet. And when I saw that 8 on my last card and completed my straight I knew it was in the bag. So much for sure things.
It took a little while for Roberta to finally settle down, but when she did she was quite direct.
“Looks like a full house. And that beats your straight,” she observed. “So, strip. And make it snappy.”
There’s really not too much to a guy stripping, is there? I mean, I love to read descriptions of women stripping. Very hot. But, well, I just took my clothes off. Do you really need to know any more than that?
Roberta moved to the couch and sat back, crossed her legs, smiled, and adopted an expectant and impatient air. When my boxers came down my dick was half hard. Shit! That certainly sent the wrong message!
When I was done she told me to move the coffee table and stand in front of her. After I’d done so, she scooted forward on the cushions. She reached out and gave my dick a few pushes back and forth, wrapped her hand around my member and brought herself closer until her mouth was within an inch of it. Now, there is no way Roberta’s mouth can be an inch from my dick and have it not stand up and take notice. I was fully hard in seconds. Then she laughed, stood, and moved toward the bedroom, calling over her shoulder that she would be right back and that I wasn’t to move.
I stood there feeling exposed and a little ridiculous. I mean, there wasn’t really much else to do. My boner was doing a great imitation of a telescope, pointing toward the constellations.
Roberta was back after a few moments, several items in her hands. She handed me the leather ankle cuffs and wrist cuffs that she so often models and told me to put them on. This was a first for me. I’d never had these on, but Roberta clearly felt that what was good for the goose…..
When all the leather was buckled in place, she had me get on my hands and knees on the coffee table. It’s a big, round one: the heavily lacquered cross-section of an immense tree trunk. Roberta directed me into the position she wanted and soon my shins and ass were hanging out over the edge. Then, as I expected, she pulled first my right and then my left wrist back to the corresponding ankle and clipped the cuffs together. When she pulled my second hand back my head did a barely controlled face plant, my forehead clunking into the surface of the table none too gently.
“Ow,” I complained.
“Oh, shut up. You did the same to Ellen. Serves you right.”
However, after my cuffs were secured she was kind enough to place a pillow under my head. Then she put the blindfold she so often graces over my eyes.
I was now ass up on the table and with no sight. I’d never experienced this, and it was not a comfortable position or feeling. My knees and back, I knew, would soon be complaining, and I felt dramatically vulnerable. I suppose this was a good experience for me to have. Roberta spends time like this on occasion for my benefit, and maybe it’s best that I experience at least once the emotions and perceptions involved. Roberta never speaks a word of complaint, but this was going to get just plain uncomfortable. Not having a choice about staying in the position made it worse. I pinned a post-it note to my frontal lobe to check in with her about this.
I thought about Ellen and, in the position I now found myself, my heart went out to her. I felt helpless and on display enough here in my own living room and with only my loving wife in attendance. How must Ellen have felt? She’d been as naked as I was, bound like me, but in a strange house and with people she’d barely met!
Roberta had been away for some minutes, longer than I was comfortable with in this position. I was beginning to feel some rising tension as I anxiously awaited her return. Then again, though, what experience was in store for me when she got back? Maybe postponing that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Then I heard the swish of her feet on the carpet. I turned my head as best as I could in her direction even though I was sightless.
I sensed her behind me, and had known this was coming. She spread my ass cheeks and I felt her paint lube all up and down my ass crack and onto me. Shortly after, I felt something finding its way toward my back portal.
Well, shit , I thought (no pun intended), and waited for my ass to be pried opened. This was the first of the forfeits the loser of tonight’s game faced: something large up their butt.
Clearly, it was a dildo of some kind, how big I did not yet know. Roberta was apparently holding it in her hand and pushing it into me. It was an invasion, my hole spreading wider, my breathing becoming shallower, sounds indicating vulnerability and anxiety involuntarily escaped my lips.
There is nothing, I was now finding out for the first time, that can make you feel more defenseless and exposed than being bound as I was and taking something large up your ass.
But then the stretching stopped and my sphincter settled back around a shaft narrower than what had just gone past it. That got my attention. A butt plug? But, no, the narrower part was continuing to push into me. Had it been a butt plug, the advance would be done and it would be seated motionless until pulled out.
Obviously, it was a realistic, penis-like dildo, the head having now slipped past my sphincter and the shaft advancing. But to my knowledge we don’t have a toy like that. All of ours are smooth, not anatomically correct. Where had this one come from?
I felt the shaft of this artificial penis continue to slide into me. There was no more pain, just discomfort as my ass was filled more and more.
Then I heard an electric buzzing, but the object up my ass was not vibrating. What was going on?
Then another bit of sensory input I couldn’t quite reconcile. As the phallus went farther and farther into me I had expected to feel Roberta’s hand gripping the outside end, pushing. Instead, I felt growing warmth, and then Roberta’s thighs were flat up against the backs of my thighs, her abdomen against my ass cheeks.
Realization dawned. She didn’t have a strap-on. Did she? I didn’t think she did. I’ve never seen one around here. Had she made a special trip to the adult store? Got one specifically for this occasion? I had some questions that wanted answering.
But right at the moment I was a little preoccupied with a big piece of molded rubber deep in my ass. I guessed that the questions might need to wait.
Then another piece of sensory input. This one I knew well and loved. It was the sound of Roberta moaning in pleasure. The dildo began to move faster, increasing its depth in my ass until Roberta’ hips were pressed tight against me and grinding. A moment later I heard crying and was so glad to hear it. When Roberta comes very hard she makes a sound that anyone but me would mistake for crying. And that sound was now coming from her in spades.
When her orgasm had passed she rested her forearms on my back, panting. But the dildo only pulled slightly out of me.
She gave the side of my thigh a healthy slap. “Not bad, Lover Boy,” she said.
“This is a little uncomfortable.”
“Too bad. You had Ellen like this for a lot longer. If she could take it so can you. And I’m not done yet.” She gave my thigh another smack.
That seemed to inspire her, and I felt the dildo moving in me again. After being so well fucked my ass now had no major complaints. It was stretched and could accommodate the dildo with relative ease. Roberta fucked me again, this time taking much longer to build to her orgasm, the vibe’s sound reaching several notches higher in pitch as she proceeded. Often Roberta doesn’t come a second time in one session, but when she has an orgasm as massive as her last she usually has little trouble taking advantage of seconds. She eventually climaxed, this time in a more controlled way, a way that involved ‘ohhhh’-ing rather than her simulated crying.
Roberta moved back and away from me, the dildo coming out of me suddenly and unceremoniously. Then she was releasing the clips holding my ankle cuffs to my wrist cuffs, and I sighed with relief. I immediately came to my feet, my knees sore and my muscles badly in need of a stretch. But I ripped off the blindfold. Before me was my beautiful Roberta, in only a top, loosening a harness strapped around her hips, the phallus that had been up my ass moments previous jutting from her crotch.
“What do you think?” she asked, waving the intruder at me.
“Um,” I said.
“Get used to it, Big Boy,” she said, “I enjoyed that too much.”
When we had agreed to the three forfeits for the loser of our bet one of them, this one, had been relatively general in nature: just that the loser would have to take something up their ass. I had assumed that if I lost it would be a dildo for me. I never imagined it would be attached to her and that her clit would be responding to delicious vibrations that would have her bucking, fucking me.
I watched as the harness dropped from around her hips and she slowly disengaged from a piece of molded plastic nestled between her legs. The front was a little bulky, a wire emerging from it: the clit vibe I had heard. And as the plastic came away from her I saw a larger vaginal dildo and a smaller anal dildo emerge from her body.
I don’t know diddle, speaking strictly personally, about the physical stimulation that produces an orgasm in women in general, but I was certain I was looking at one sure-fire possibility.
My boner, in spite of the ignoble manner in which I’d just been used, had not subsided at all. Roberta took a few steps over to me, put her arms around me and kissed me hard and deep. This did not help the boner situation at all. But after a few moments she began to slide down my body ending on her knees. Without any working up to it at all both her hands encircled my boner and she had it in her mouth. And she was working hard on it, forcefully sucking and running her mouth over it, in and out with great enthusiasm. One hand moved to my balls, cupping and squeezing them the way I like. Patience and surrender apparently have their rewards
She began moaning, the pace of her mouth on my boner picking up, me deep in her each time. Much faster than it usually happens I could feel those first sensations deep in my body and brain that lead to orgasm.
Roberta flinched, like she had just remembered something. In an instant her mouth and hands were off me and she was standing.
“Oh, gosh, Patrick, I’m so sorry,” she said. “Wow, I completely forgot that you’re going to need all that cum tomorrow afternoon. Gee, I’m so sorry to have gotten you so worked up.” The smile on her face and the laugh that escaped her mouth left no doubt that she had known exactly what she had been doing.
Then she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with a boner that might have been sculpted from marble.
Roberta turned as she went. “I’m going to take a nice bath, and you can come with me to the bathroom. You have another little task that needs doing to pay off your bet, don’t you?” She was smiling and laughing again as she turned and walked toward the bathroom.
I followed her, and as she turned on the water to fill the tub I reached into the chest above the sink and took out some small scissors and a razor. With Roberta smiling at me, I sat on the toilet and began using the scissors to cut away my pubic hair.
I had not been engaged in this activity for more than a few seconds when Roberta said, “Let me have that razor. You know what the advice columnists all say: set some boundaries.”
She proceeded to use the razor to shave away a band of hair across my thighs about half way to my knee.
