Anything.
*****
"How are you," I asked her when my iPhone, sitting in the pillow next to me rang at 2:30 in the morning, sitting in the place that at that time, under normal circumstances, in a Friday night/Saturday morning, would be occupied by her pretty head, her soft hair.
2:30 in the morning, seeing her picture on my phone, seeing the time, my stomach ached, my locked clit ached, everything suddenly ached, so late, so very late.
"I'm tired," was her response, so funny, almost a stock response by now, so true, too, given the time, given the day, what working person isn't tired at that hour on a Friday night? I was; I'd been in bed for hours.
"How was your…your thing," I asked, unable to quite bring myself to use the word for what it actually was, unable to quite call it a date, though the discretion was for naught.
"Afraid to call a spade a spade, love?"
"What do you mean," I asked, sleep still clouding my brain.
"My date. You mean to ask how was my date."
"Yes," I admitted, "if that's what it was."
"It was, for all practical purposes.
"How was your date," I finally spoke, crossing my legs, feeling the satin chemise I was wearing rustle around my legs, around my swelling, trapped, locked midsection, the reminder of what I gave her, what she owned.
"It was nice; I had a nice time. Of course I couldn't help thinking of you the whole time, Sara. You know how much that turns me on? Sara, home and in chastity and…"
"You're a tease, Emily."
"Funny, that's what he called, me, too."
"Fuck, you don't mess around, do you?"
"What do you mean, love?"
"I mean, fuck, it's 2:30 in the morning and you're calling so late and I just assumed that you…you were…you know…naughty…and you're just a tease."
"Oh, oh sweetie, teasing doesn't mean no fun."
So she told me about her evening, dinner, the play they saw, what they ate, the wine, how charming Todd was, how unlike me, and how she so much prefers the company of her best friend.
"Not that I don't appreciate a man's attention, Sara, don't get me wrong."
"You prefer you're sissy, though."
"Of course I do, love, of course I do. But I love that you let me, you know, have a little freedom now and than. No, that's not quite right, is it. You want me to have a little freedom now and then, I love that it gets you so excited, especially since you're in that little chastity cage."
"Uugh," I grunted.
"Excited, sweetie?"
"Yes, Emily, of course I'm excited, you know how hot this is. You know how agonizing this is…"
"Yet how much you love it."
"Yes."
"How is it, in chastity. I'm surprised you have not begged me to let you unlock yourself."
"It's agony, Emily. Every time I think about you, not just, you know, on a date, every time I think about you at all I start to grow and I miss you and I miss touching you and, ugh, it's so tight!"
"Well maybe I shouldn't tease you any more, then."
"Tease me how?"
"Well if you get all hot and bothered just talking to me, I'm not sure you want to hear any more about my date."
I did not say anything, I just lay there, breathing, heavily, scared to ask, scared to know, yet wanting to, so badly, wanting, no, needing.
"There was more than just dinner and a show?"
"Well he was such a gentleman all night, Sara, I didn't want to be rude at the end of the date and not invite him in for a drink."
"Emily."
"We were just sitting on the couch, having a glass of wine, and, well, I was thinking about you of all things, thinking how much I missed you and how you were probably thinking of me and I know it's weird, but it was making me so fucking horny."
"Fuck, Emily, do you know how horny I was all night?"
"I can imagine, love. And I was so horny for YOU and I was thinking of you all horny and all soft and pretty and my little feminine sissy," she was cooing, practically dripping with sexuality.
"I was thinking of you and horny and that's just when he, Todd, reached over and put his hand on my leg, just then, Sara, he touched my leg, my thigh, just below the hem of my skirt which had gotten a little high, right on my nylons and I think my insides just exploded, Sara, I almost had an orgasm just from his hand on my thigh."
"Emily," I begged, begged her to stop telling me, to tell me more, for everything.
"I'm in a relationship, you know, I told him, I had to tell him Sara, I owe that to, well, to you."
"I know, Emily."
"Oh, he said, moving his hand right away. He looked at me. I'm sorry, I thought that you…I stopped him, Sara. No, Todd, I'm in a relationship with someone I love more than anything…"
I beamed with pride at her words.
"I didn't mean you had to move your hand away, Todd, that felt, it felt nice, I just mean that, well, I'm in a relationship and…I don't know how far…I mean, if I say stop, well, this is like a first date and. He told me he understood, I think he got it, that he probably wasn't going to hit a home run but that didn't mean he couldn't hope for first or second base."
"Did he touch you again," I asked.
"His hand was back there in a second, on my thigh again, just a little higher, almost to the top of my stocking, which he didn't know I was wearing, yet. I'm sorry, Sara, are you sure you want to hear this," she asked, almost laughing, "I mean, it won't make you too jealous, will it? Or too, um, swollen."
"Go on," I gasped, touching my cage, massaging the outside, fingering just below, like a girl, like a girl.
"He was rubbing my thigh and leaned over and tried to kiss me and, you know how I feel about that, not on the mouth, Todd, I told him, that's…that's not for you. He looked disappointed. I said no kissing my mouth, I didn't say you couldn't lick my neck, I giggled, so he did and fuck, his mouth was so hot and his hand was squeezing my thigh and I…I wanted to feel it, Sara, I had to, and I'm sorry you can't not now, I'm sorry you're locked up and you can't but I had to. I reached over and touched him, and fuck, he was."
She took a deep breath.
"He was so fucking hard, Sara. I so much love you, Sara and your soft body, feminine and pretty, but fuck he was so hard, not huge or anything, but so hard. And I'm so ashamed, Sara, but I was so wet, so fucking wet."
"I wish you were here, Emily."
"What's second base, Sara? Fondling my breasts? He skipped first base and went right to second."
I was furiously but without result, rubbing myself. It only made me hurt and put me into agony and I could not help it.
"And all I could do was rub his cock, Sara, rub that wonderful cock while he touched me and, I could see it in his eyes, think about fucking me."
"Emily, I…"
"I jumped, when he touched me, I jumped, so did he. He figured out I was wearing stockings when his hand went under my skirt and he jumped, just a little, excitement, and moved fast, and just like that, his hand was touching my panties, I don't think he expected or meant to do that, just yet, touching my panties and I gasped. I think he was kind of unsure but when I gasped he knew how wet I was, how horny. He asked me if he should stop, wasn't that sweet of him, he wanted to know if he should stop."
"What'd you tell him," I asked, hoping she said stop, hoping he didn't.
"What'd I tell him, lover?" She laughed. "I was so fucking horny, Sara, I let go of his cock, I think I disappointed him just for a second, lifted my shirt over my head and I told him, don't you dare stop."
I pictured it, mentally, Emily on the couch, just a bra covering her top, her skirt practically bunched around her waist, close to naked. What base was that? Second? Third?
She filed the silence. "You didn't want me to tell him to stop, did you, Sara?"
"No," I whispered.
"It would have been so unfair, I mean, he was so hard and I was so horny and his fingers felt soooo good rubbing me through my panties and I wanted to cum so badly, Sara, sooooo badly. I needed to cum, I needed to."
"You needed to cum," I asked, half shocked, half desperate to cum myself.
"I know, I know, it seems unfair, doesn't it, you must want to cum so badly yourself."
"Yes, Emily, it's horrible."
"I know, love, I know."
She knew? How could she possibly know? How? How?
How tight the cage was, how I thought about her constantly, how I wanted it, wanted her, wanted anything. I think I missed her more than she missed me, I felt it, though maybe it was just in her own way, mine was different.
She took off her skirt, which she said prompted him to take off his pants and his shirt so they were sitting on her couch, half naked, he in just boxer short and she in her bra and panties and stockings.
I was afraid to keep listening to her, it hurt, a little emotionally, but in a way, not really. Wasn't this everything I fantasized about? All the time? Isn't this what cuckolding was? I felt guilty because I did not want her to stop.
I did not want her to stop telling me, I did not want her to stop with him.
"I was so wet, Sara, so wet, he was rubbing me through the front of my panties and I was so wet and horny and you know why?"
"Because he was cute," I asked.
"More, Sara, I was so wet because I was thinking of you and how much I missed you and you, sitting home, locked up, I was thinking of you thinking of me and it made me sooooo wet."
"Oh, Emily, you're getting me so hot."
"I know, Sara, I know. And you know what else made me wet? Thinking of you there with us, watching. Licking and kissing me, licking my feet and my legs while he fingered me."
I would have cum right then and there if not for the cage, I would have cum immediately.
"I wanted to cum, Sara, I needed to. I pushed him down on the couch and climbed on top of him and I was rubbing on him, at first just my panties through his boxer short, but he popped out and I was rubbing on his cock.
"Ohhhh," I gasped.
"That's right, Sara, on his cock."
I was breathing heavily, rubbing what I could rub, not enough, not enough. It wasn't enough.
"You can't cum, Sara, you know that."
"I want to, Emily, do you know how much I want to?"
"You can't lover, you can't."
"Please, Emily."
"I could, though, and I wanted to, too, I was trying, I was rubbing my panties up and down his cock, they were so wet, I was so wet. I had on that cream sheer set I have, you know the one…"
I did, fuck did I. Sheer? There was nothing, just a thin layer, a thin, transparent layer between him and her. Nothing. I've licked her through those panties, tasted her, wet, she practically flowed through them.
She would be all over him, all over his cock.
"I was about to cum, Sara, I was just about to cum, Sara. I felt him move my panties aside just as I slid down his cock and it rubbed my clit the whole way and I started to shake and my teeth were chattering and and and…he rubbed me again and I was shaking more, fuck, and he…he was…his cock was pressed against me…I was cumming, I was shaking, fuck, I was so…I wanted him inside me, Sara, I wanted his cock inside me. I was shaking in orgasm and I wanted his cock inside me, fucking me."
OH MY GOD SHE FUCKED HIM!
"Wait, Todd."
"What? What," I demanded.
"Wait, I told him to wait. I wanted his cock inside me sooooo badly but I told him to wait. What, he asked. Wait, Todd, wait."
What?
"I…I can't…I can't fuck you."
Oh, he said, disappointed, confused. I thought…
"No, you…it's okay…I just can't…I want to, but…
"He had such a hurt look on his face, but he stopped. He could have shoved it in me, Sara, he could have shoved his cock into me and I…I don't think I could have said stop, again, I think if he did I would have let him fuck me."
"Hmmmmm," was all I could manage, a grunt, a hum, a painful frustration picturing my love, picturing Emily, a man's cock touching her, poised to press into her.
"He started to move, hurt, disappointed. No. I said no. Don't move. No."
What, he asked.
"I leaned over and whispered in his ear. You made me cum, Todd, my turn."
She said she moved her panties back over her pussy, not that it mattered much, she was wet, he was wet, the panties were wet.
"It isn't that I don't want to fuck you, Todd, I just can't."
It's okay, he said.
"I want to make you cum, Todd."
I don't know how I stayed conscious. She said she rubbed him, up and down his cock, still orgasmic herself, whispering in his ear, "cum on my panties, cum on my pussy."
She said he finally exploded, shaking, exploded all over her, all over her panties, all over her.
Everywhere, cum everywhere.
"They are right here, Sara, the panties, they are such a mess. Maybe you can wash them for me when I get home, I think you'd like that?"
"Yes, fuck, yes," I pictured myself in a maid's uniform, washing Emily's soiled panties in the sink, hand washing the cum out of them.
"I wanted to fuck him, Sara."
"I know," I was shaking, overwhelmed.
"I wanted to, Sara."
"I know. I know."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, fuck, yes, I…I want to cum, too, Emily."
"A week, Sara, a week."
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