Outlook Calendar F/M
Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2022 4:03 pm
My wife and I were walking home after an early dinner downtown with friends. We live in a small Northern Michigan town and an area with restaurants and microbreweries is less than a mile from our house. It was a beautiful mid-October evening. The Fall colors were at peak and the air had a pleasant crisp cleanness to it.
“What do you want to do with the rest of the evening?” I asked. “Well,” she said, “That show you like with those guys building hot rods has a new episode, we could watch that, or (she paused for effect) I could give you a really nice blow job.” I tried to keep my voice even when I replied, playing along “That’s a really tough choice, but I’m leaning slightly in the direction of the blow job.” “I would caution you” she urged “to learn all the details before you commit, ‘read the fine print’ so to speak.” “I’ll take that under advisement” I countered. “I guess I’ll need to know all the details before deciding.” At this point we stopped talking to let another couple pass on the sidewalk. When they were out of earshot, my wife continued, “The thing is, I was thinking this would be something of a practice session, a chance for me to take my time and work on new techniques. How frustrating would it be for you if I practiced the same thing over an over? For example, what if I had to trace the contours of your cock with the tip of my tongue ten or twelve times in a row before finally getting my technique down?” “That could be frustrating” I replied, “But I’m willing to tough it out if it provides you the practice you need.” “That’s noble of you” she teased “but I’m afraid I’d also have to tie you to the bed and gag you. My practice time will only be fully maximized if you’re unable to move and the gag, well I just really like those sexy gagged noises you make.” “I’m still willing to take one for the team if it helps you out” I offered.
At home I soon found myself stripped naked and tied to the bed. I was laying on my back with a pillow for my head. My crossed wrists were securely bound together above my head and roped to the headboard with the knots well out of reach. My ankles were also bound together and attached to the footboard. I couldn’t move at all, other than helplessly wiggling my hands and feet. A thick scarf had been placed between my lips and tightly secured behind my head, gagging me. My cock was fully erect and even quivering slightly.
My wife entered the walk-in closet and returned wearing a lovely dark red bra and panty set. Curiously, she had her iPhone in her hand. What was she going to do with that, take pictures of me bound and gagged? Kneeling next to me on the bed, she started scrolling like she was looking for something. Suddenly her brow wrinkled. “That’s odd” she declared, “I’m looking at my Outlook calendar. I had it totally wrong, silly me! Today’s not the day for blow job practice! That’s next Thursday. Today’s schedule calls for tickle practice. Oh well! Since we’re here and I have you all tied up, we might as well do that instead. Maybe I’ll give you a quick blow job if there’s time after I’m done practicing all my tickle techniques on you. That shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.”
All I could do was make muffled “mmmmffffffftt!!!!” sounds into my gag and struggle against my bonds to no avail. Laughing, she walked to the foot of the bed and started slowly raking her nice sharp fingernails along the soles of both of my bound bare feet, making me moan and gasp, uncontrolled laughter welling up inside me. “You see” she murmured, talking to herself, “it was just like I said earlier, my technique is all wrong! I’m afraid this is going to require a lot more practice than I initially thought, but you know what they say, ‘practice makes perfect’.” I made a good show of struggling and gagged protesting but we both knew I was loving every minute of it. Strapped down and silenced, I was buckled in for a wild ride that would continue late into the evening before she finally finished me off and released me.
“What do you want to do with the rest of the evening?” I asked. “Well,” she said, “That show you like with those guys building hot rods has a new episode, we could watch that, or (she paused for effect) I could give you a really nice blow job.” I tried to keep my voice even when I replied, playing along “That’s a really tough choice, but I’m leaning slightly in the direction of the blow job.” “I would caution you” she urged “to learn all the details before you commit, ‘read the fine print’ so to speak.” “I’ll take that under advisement” I countered. “I guess I’ll need to know all the details before deciding.” At this point we stopped talking to let another couple pass on the sidewalk. When they were out of earshot, my wife continued, “The thing is, I was thinking this would be something of a practice session, a chance for me to take my time and work on new techniques. How frustrating would it be for you if I practiced the same thing over an over? For example, what if I had to trace the contours of your cock with the tip of my tongue ten or twelve times in a row before finally getting my technique down?” “That could be frustrating” I replied, “But I’m willing to tough it out if it provides you the practice you need.” “That’s noble of you” she teased “but I’m afraid I’d also have to tie you to the bed and gag you. My practice time will only be fully maximized if you’re unable to move and the gag, well I just really like those sexy gagged noises you make.” “I’m still willing to take one for the team if it helps you out” I offered.
At home I soon found myself stripped naked and tied to the bed. I was laying on my back with a pillow for my head. My crossed wrists were securely bound together above my head and roped to the headboard with the knots well out of reach. My ankles were also bound together and attached to the footboard. I couldn’t move at all, other than helplessly wiggling my hands and feet. A thick scarf had been placed between my lips and tightly secured behind my head, gagging me. My cock was fully erect and even quivering slightly.
My wife entered the walk-in closet and returned wearing a lovely dark red bra and panty set. Curiously, she had her iPhone in her hand. What was she going to do with that, take pictures of me bound and gagged? Kneeling next to me on the bed, she started scrolling like she was looking for something. Suddenly her brow wrinkled. “That’s odd” she declared, “I’m looking at my Outlook calendar. I had it totally wrong, silly me! Today’s not the day for blow job practice! That’s next Thursday. Today’s schedule calls for tickle practice. Oh well! Since we’re here and I have you all tied up, we might as well do that instead. Maybe I’ll give you a quick blow job if there’s time after I’m done practicing all my tickle techniques on you. That shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.”
All I could do was make muffled “mmmmffffffftt!!!!” sounds into my gag and struggle against my bonds to no avail. Laughing, she walked to the foot of the bed and started slowly raking her nice sharp fingernails along the soles of both of my bound bare feet, making me moan and gasp, uncontrolled laughter welling up inside me. “You see” she murmured, talking to herself, “it was just like I said earlier, my technique is all wrong! I’m afraid this is going to require a lot more practice than I initially thought, but you know what they say, ‘practice makes perfect’.” I made a good show of struggling and gagged protesting but we both knew I was loving every minute of it. Strapped down and silenced, I was buckled in for a wild ride that would continue late into the evening before she finally finished me off and released me.
