March 1 2022

 From SaraSissyGirl Blog

(pictures added - ed)

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Reunion Part 3

Sorry I'm dribbling these out...work...stuff...her...me...

 

So, here's a little more to, um, "wet" your appetite.

 

***************

 

"What do you mean you weren't a good girl," I asked her, flooded with emotions.

 

Emily walked to the bed where I was perched, were her feminine lover was waiting for her.

 

"Did you and Evan..."

 

"In good time, lover, in good time," she smiled, walking to her dresser, opening a drawer, pulling something out.

 

"Emily," I complained, "please, I...what did you...did you..."

 

She ignored my complaints, spread her arms slightly apart, pulling open the satin tie to a robe she had.

 

"I'll tell you all about it, the way you want to hear about it, darling. Lift your hands over your head."

 

I knew what she was getting at. Bondage was not a huge thing to us, we dabbled in it now and then, but were were not a big BDSM type couple. Now was some dabbling and I was somewhat reluctantly, willing to play along, so did as she asked, allowed her to gently, tightly, securely, tie my hands over my head to the bedpost.

 

As she did, her dress flowed all over me, her nylon covered legs touched mine, my body was partially hidden, seductively, by hers. "How I missed you," she whispered in my ear, licking, tongue down my neck, bitting.

 

Normally a heavy breather, a moaner, at her touch, the cage changed my response ever so slightly, the moan, more urgent, a hint at the discomfort she was causing me.

 

"What's wrong, Sara," she asked, obviously knowing full well what was wrong with me.

 

I answered with my eyes, looking down at her, her dress, her body, covering my midsection.

 

"Oh, I forgot, sweetie, do things get a little tight in there?"

 

"Yea," I gasped.

 

She giggled. "I know, darling, I know. So, my weekend." She bit my neck again, playfully, the erotic touch of her teeth shooting waves of energy through me, making me swell more.

 

I grunted again, a weekend of swelling in the cage becoming too much.

 

"You want that off, don't you," she asked.

 

"Yes, please Em, it...it's too much."

 

"We'll need the key, though," she said, biting her lip, perplexed.

 

"So," I said, begging with that simple word.

 

"What if I left it at Evan's," she asked sheepishly, looking down.

 

"Em!"

 

"I'm sure he'd mail it, if I did. It would be here in a few days."

 

"Fuck, Emily," I snapped, but saw right away she was toying with me.

 

"You're so uptight, it's right here," she shook her head, opening her hand, the key in her palm. "Is it really that uncomfortable?"

 

"Only when I think about something erotic," I said, "otherwise, it was okay."

 

"Like seeing me in lingerie?"

 

"Yea, of course."

 

"Like thinking of licking me?"

 

I shook slightly, my brain tormented.

 

She lowered her voice, touched my neck, my breasts. "Like thinking of Evan fucking me?"

 

Enough blood flew through me, enough excitement shimmered over me, enough tension in the room, that I thought the cage would burst. Whereas it was sore, before, for the first time, it hurt, actually hurt, hurt enough that the moan that escaped my lips was a groan, a grunt, pain.

 

Emily's eyes were wide, discovery, realizing the true power she had, held, that was surrendered to her.

 

"Like thinking of him inside me?"

 

"Emily, please, it...it really hurts."

 

"I know, Sara, I know, just."

 

"Please."

 

"Like thinking of him making me cum?"

 

"Ohhhhhhhhhh."

 

"You want it off, Sara, before I tell you about Saturday night?"

 

"Yes, please, yes, I'm sorry, I...I can't take it."

 

"My god, you're throbbing," Emily said after she had it off, which was true, I was throbbing uncontrollably. "I'm afraid to touch it," she laughed, pulling my panties back over it.

 

She decided, finally, to tell me about Saturday.

 

They were dancing, Saturday night, he was pressing his hands into her back, rubbing

 

"That feels good, Evan, I'm sore from tennis," she told him, her fingers playing with my chest, my stomach, over the satin.

 

I jumped at her touch.

 

"You know, I love that you're so soft and feminine," she told me. "So, he's basically massaging my back, which really did feel good, I was sore, we're slow dancing. It's nice, I missed...well, anyway, he's holding me and, I guess I should have seen it coming, but he bends his head down, starts to kiss me."

 

I don't know why I jumped, but, oddly, that image, that mental image, of Evan kissing Emily bothered me. I did not find it erotic, the first thing since she left that was not, well, exciting.

 

"I know, I can tell from the look on your face, Sara; I felt the same way. I did not want to kiss him, I turned my face away."

 

For some reason I felt relieved. Fucking turned me on, but kissing did not?

 

"He apologized, of course, he's...well, he apologized and immediately dropped his hands from my back, but that wasn't it. I told him. No, Evan, that...that felt good, my back is sore. I pressed against him, slightly, touched his arm. It's just, that..."

 

"What, Emily, he asked me. The massage feels wonderful, just, the kiss, I...I love him, Evan. We have something, something you and I never had, never could have. I'm not saying stop, Evan, just, kissing is for him, for my lover."

 

"I get it, Emily, he told me, rubbing my bare shoulders again. I see it in your eyes, Sara, I felt it, too, kissing, kissing is for people in love. I don't love Evan. I never did, I never will. No matter what, I could not kiss him."

 

Emily was running circles on my my stomach, lower, almost flicking the tip of my swollen erection.

 

"I can give you a better massage later, if you want, he said, no kissing, I promise. And he was perfect the rest of the night. And so we are at his place later and I'm actually nervous, of all things, what to wear, should I go to bed, should I put on plain pajamas, or a babydoll and he tells me, listen, if you're up to that massage, for which he promises to be good, go shower, and of all fucking things, all I can think is, which I say out loud, what should I wear for a massage.

 

"He laughed. Listen, Emily, I'm serious, I'll give you a real massage. He goes to a closet, gets out a clean white sheet, tells me to shower, lay across the end of the bed and cover myself with this sheet, just like at a massage place. You can keep some modesty and I can still do it right.

 

"Well, I shower, get myself situated, and he knocks softly at the door and walks in with a bottle of lotion. He's showered, too, but has on a white tee and a pair of scrub pants, fuck if it doesn't look professional.

 

-You ready, Emily?

 

-Yea.

 

"Well, fuck he's good at it, Sara, I swear, it was like a real massage, it was relaxing, but not, dirty? He worked on my back, lowering the sheet only enough, replaced it when he did my arms, then carefully, rubbed my feet, my calves, moving the sheet only to do my thighs.

 

"Then he slipped. I know he did not mean it because he apologized right away, moved his hands lower. He slipped, the back of one of his hands grazed against me between my legs."

 

"I gasped air in, he realized it."

 

-I'm sorry, Emily.

 

"It must have been, I don't know, the look in my eyes. It's okay, Evan," I said. He worked on the thigh again, slightly lower, but I...I kind of raised my ass up, just a tiny bit, as his hand moved, and he could not help it, his knuckles rubbed against me again, I gasped again.

 

"And then a third time, I raised my hips once again at just the right moment and his hand rubbed against me."

 

-Emily, what are you doing.

 

"Evan, I moaned. His hands were moving back up my thigh, I pushed back and up again and he paused, the back of his hand resting against me. I was wet, soaked, I knew he could feel it."

 

-Emily, fuck, you said...

more to follow...