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A Roll of the Dice

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She opened the door to the hotel room, and her mind barely had time to register that it was him before they set upon one another. Their lips, hot and swollen with lust, found each other, their tongues intertwining. Their bodies responding to the touch that it seemed like they’d longed for forever.

His cock swelled, but only so far. It filled, then pressed against the metal bars of his chastity cage, as it had so many times in the past two weeks since he’d last seen her. Imprisoned by his lust, growing stronger and more desperate by the day. She released him just long enough to look into his eyes, and even that momentary pull-back seemed excruciating. He panted, my mouth like cotton, eyes begging for her. But they both knew . . . he’d have to wait.

She gestured toward the bed before sauntering slowly over, letting the satin robe—her only clothing—drop into a pool at her feet. He didn’t undress; it wasn’t time yet. But he followed her dutifully. She sat back on the bed and spread her legs. He needed no instruction. Despite the throbbing pulse coming from his crotch, he wanted nothing more than to give her pleasure.

He started gently, even teasingly. Slowly he worked his tongue along the outside of her labia. Slowly he kissed the insides of her thighs. Slowly he let his lips make their way to her already engorged clitoris, every so often dipping his tongue inside her opening, tasting her.

The two weeks had left her nearly as pent-up as him, and it wasn’t long before she gave in to his skillful manipulation of her pussy. Her head crashed back against the mattress; her hands gripped for the sheets; her hips pressed against his face. She let out a deep, yet feminine moan of ecstasy as she came.


He cuddled her until she recovered. The display hadn’t left his penis any less desperate; quite the opposite. And yet there was never any rush. Was it 5 minutes? 10 minutes? An hour? Neither of them knew. But eventually, she raised herself from the bed, grabbed his hand, and led him over to the desk chair. After much trial-and-error, they’d found it to be the best setting for what she had in mind. The chair had sturdy wooden legs, with slight padding on the arms. The seat was firm, yet comfortable. He could sit for hours without discomfort.

First, she undressed him. She unbuttoned his shirt while he began removing his belt. Soon, just like her, he was completely naked, save for the gleaming metal cage surrounding his stiffening member. She tapped her index finger on the tip of his cage, smiling coyly when it came back wet with pre-cum. She raised her finger to her lips to taste him. He shuddered at the scene. His cock, already strangled by the bars, surely would burst through the cage. But of course it did not.

She moved him back into the chair, and he sat, his ass toward the edge, his legs spread wide against the wooden legs. His chastity cage presented itself to her, like a gift wrapped up and waiting. But she—and he—weren’t ready to reveal it just yet.

She turned her back on him momentarily to retrieve the velcro straps from her luggage. They were simple; nothing that would attract attention even if someone did come across them. Just nine simple, black straps with hook-and-loop closures. Both he and she knew that, while they didn’t look like much, they were surprisingly strong. And once fastened, he’d be incapable of meaningful movement.

She was quick—practiced as she was at applying the straps to his toned body. First, his left ankle was strapped to the chair leg. Another strap on the same leg held his thigh tightly against the frame of the chair. She repeated the exercise on his right leg, then applied two straps to each arm. Finally, the last strap bound his chest to the chair, mostly to guard against the involuntary urge to curl into a ball when the stimulation got to be too intense. And they both knew that time would come soon.

“Are you ready?” she asked. The first words either had spoken.

He could only nod in reply, his mouth drier than a cotton ball. She put a glass of water to his lips and gave him a drink. “Please,” he said. “It was so unbearable this time. Please.”

“That’s not so surprising, I guess. It is the longest we’ve gone. At least I got to touch myself.” She punctuated the tease by reclining onto the desk in front of him and running her fingers over the folds of her sex before trailing her hand up over her breasts to the key that dangled around her neck. She could tell from his eyes that “unbearable” was an understatement for how he had felt for the last two weeks. But she also knew that she was going to make it worthwhile, casino oyna for both of them.


With a gentle tug, she pulled the cock cage from his penis and, for the first time in two weeks, it sprung to full attention, its rigid length bobbing just above his stomach. Pre-cum glistened at the tip, and she longed to lower her lips over the head and taste him. But she resisted; the time would come for that.

She positioned herself between his legs, looking up into his brown, begging eyes. She’d learned long ago that she preferred not to gag him. She loved the symphony of gasps, moans, and whimpers that her lengthy ministrations pulled from his aroused body. Even now, before she had even touched him, his breath fell in short, hot inhales and exhales between them. A small bead of fluid slipped from the head of his cock down toward his belly. She caught it with a well-practiced finger and—without ever touching his length—swooped it into her mouth, pausing to let her tongue swirl around her finger.

She started with the insides of his thighs. Her fingernails were not overly long, but in his highly aroused state every touch felt like electricity running from her fingertips through his whole body. She slowly traced the inside of his knees, teasingly making his way toward his shaved balls, which clung tightly to the bottom of his cock. She knew in this state that she had to be careful. If she got through the next 15 minutes or so, then his penis would acclimate just enough to allow her to play for as long as she wanted. But too much stimulation too soon and he would lose control. She didn’t intend to let that happen.

At the last second, her teasing fingers veered away from his package and over to his sides. She let her face fall onto the top of his left thigh, leaving warm, soft kisses along it, just inches from his throbbing dick. Her brown hair fell ever so lightly across the base of his cock. He gasped audibly. She pulled her head back and smiled.

She rose to her feet, slowly enough to let him take in her lithe form. She wandered around to the back of the chair, putting her hands around his chest, caressing him softly. Her hands lingered around his nipples—she’d learned these were quite sensitive when he was highly aroused—plucking them lightly. His penis bobbed in response, a small, clear drop of pre-cum rolled out of the tip.

To him, it felt like her hands were everywhere, pinching his nipples, trailing through the wetness that was accumulating under the head of his cock. Her mouth played at his neck and earlobe. A whispered, “please,” was all he could muster.

Finally, when it seemed like she would never touch him, she returned to the front of the chair. She looked into his eyes as she sucked briefly on her thumb before sliding the slippery digit one time from the base to the tip of his cock. He let out a guttural moan, as though the touch had broken some mental block that had formed over two weeks without any friction on his most sensitive area. His eyes, his cock, his whole being pleaded for more, but she resisted. Instead, she lowered her warm mouth to his balls, and let her tongue explore them. Around and around she played, every so often letting one of the firm orbs slip past her glistening lips and applying gentle suction, as though she were literally pulling the pleasure from his body. She played this way for maybe 10 minutes. He would have measured the beautiful agony in hours.


His arousal had not abated; it had only grown over the first 30 minutes of her treatment. But he had now grown used to her touch, which allowed her to be a bit more aggressive without risking tipping him over the edge. She’d grown very good at knowing just how much he could take without losing control, and with that came the all important knowledge of when to back off, and when he could take a little more direct contact.

“It took a little longer than usual for you to calm down today,” she said with a grin. “I’d say I’m sorry for making you wait so long, but I think we both know how much you love this.”

She positioned himself between his legs again, and pulled from her bag a thin, satin strip of fabric, cut from the drawstring of her night pants, about two feet long. She’d learned that she could increase the intensity of each sensation by carefully controlling how often, and how directly, she touched his cock. For this exercise, the satin allowed her to manipulate his cock without direct flesh-to-flesh contact.

She placed the cord on his chest, and slowly pulled it down, letting it trail over his nipples. The cord slipped under the head of his cock, nestling canlı casino into its base. She kept pulling gently down until his rigid penis stood straight up, pointing at the ceiling. Her lips hung just out of reach, her warm breath caressing his tip. She planted a soft, long, kiss at the root of his member, letting her tongue just graze the red-hot flesh. She continued this ministration, each kiss slower and longer than the last, each getting closer to the tip, which now seemed to throb with a heartbeat of its own. Finally, she reached that magic spot where the head meets the shaft. She lingered here, letting her tongue dance playfully and intensely, tracing the line of his cock head. The combination of the velcro straps and satin cord—such simple devices!—kept him from bucking his hips. But it didn’t stop his thighs from straining as he desperately tried to close the agonizingly small gap between her mouth and his desperate erection.

Finally, she sensed he was truly at his wits’ end. She had developed an incredible skill for pushing him only so far as to maximize his pleasure and his fetish for being teased (and indeed her fetish for teasing). She could tell now that the limit was reached, at least for this phase. She pulled down just a little bit more on the satin, dipping his cock into her warm mouth. Her tongue lavished the underside as her lips applied gentle suction. Her mouth slowly traversed down the length of his cock. She got down about halfway before pausing, letting her tongue continue to lash at him. His cock pulsed, and it was like she could feel every one of his nerve endings responding to her. The cords in his neck strained, the pleasure becoming almost too much to bear. She pulled up, letting her lips continue past the head, leaving it to pulse from the involuntary contractions of his pelvic muscles. He had been so close.

Her lips hovered just behind the head of his penis, waiting patiently for the spasming cock to calm down. To him, it might as well have been an eternity. Finally, he was ready. She made teasing eye contact with him from behind his erection, and then once again wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, beginning her slow, torturous descent toward its base. Again, her tongue played a symphony on the underside, and again his body strained against the ties that bound him to the chair. She went just a little further down this time, and paused just a little longer. But one thing was exactly the same. Just as the cum surged at the base of his cock, she pulled ever so slowly up and off him, leaving him to bob helplessly in the air.

Then the begging started.

“Please, I need to cum. Please let me cum.”

“Not yet, baby,” she rasped, again waiting patiently for his body to retreat just enough from the edge of orgasm. “We’ve got plenty more still to do to you before you get to cum. You’ll just have to be patient. Like me.”

She repeated her slow, languorous blowjob three times more, each time lifting her head at just the right time to leave him hanging on the ragged edge of the orgasm so long denied him. After the last time, she released the satin cord with one hand and let his cock fall back against his stomach. A drop of pre-cum rolled out of the tip, coating it slickly.

She reached behind her once again, pulling from her bag a small bottle of olive oil. She poured a generous amount of the oil into her palm before raising her hand and letting the oil drip onto his cock. Even the nearly imperceptible feeling of the oil flowing over the taut skin of his penis caused it to jerk uncontrollably. She poured more oil into her hands before setting the bottle aside and using her slick palms to spread the oil evenly over his steel-hard member. He groaned in response.

As well as she knew his body, playing with him with her mouth always left the slight possibility that she would misjudge, going just too far, licking or sucking just a bit too long, accidentally tipping him over the edge. Her hands, particularly when coated with copious amounts of oil, gave her much more control. She could feel every twitch, every throb, and could vary her touches immediately, from a gentle squeeze to withdrawing all stimulation.

Her fingers, slick with oil, traced gently over his balls, which were pulled tight to the base of his cock. She pulled gently down on the swollen globes, rewarded for her efforts with yet more pelvic contractions. Finally, she slid her hand from his balls to the base of his cock, and began to make long, slow strokes from the base to the tip. Each time her hand would reach his head, she’d give her wrist a slight turn, allowing her fingers to catch kaçak casino the fleshy part of the head where it met the shaft. Each time, he gasped slightly.

She slowed her pace a little each subsequent stroke, gauging his arousal level. His whole body felt on fire, each stroke like a lightening bolt starting deep in his loins and exiting—or at least dying to exit—the tip of his rock-hard cock. After perhaps five minutes of this torture, she could tell he was reaching his limit. It took all her skills to pace her strokes so as to keep him balanced on the knife’s edge of orgasm, building his pleasure and desperation with each stroke while somehow preventing him from sliding over the edge. With one last twist of her wrist, she let her hand release from his cock entirely.

“I can’t take anymore,” he begged. “For God’s sake, make me cum.”

“No,” was her simple, coy reply.

She went back to stroking him, always letting her hand slip away before he could come. This was her favorite form of erotic torture. Such a simple tool as an oiled hand driving him to the edge over and over. Stroking him also allowed her to watch his body respond desperately to her touch. And respond he did.

Finally, she realized he could take no more. He was at the utmost edge of orgasm, where almost any stimulation would blast him into oblivion. She loved this point, and had developed a technique for it. She carefully laid her palm on the underside of his cock, allowing her index finger to rest on the “magic spot” where the top of his shaft met the head. She pressed lightly, and, just barely, rubbed in a small circle, the oil ensuring that there was almost no friction in her touch. He groaned lustily, her one finger keeping him just short of the point of no return, but at the same time not allowing him to calm down. She continued this treatment, watching his face carefully for signs that he was losing control. She saw none. Instead, she saw desperation in his eyes; they begged her for release, for rapture that she would not grant until she was ready.

Finally she pulled away. “Time to let you calm down,” she said teasingly. For the next 10 minutes, she positioned herself sitting on the desk in front of him, using her slick fingers to toy with her sex. She was sopping wet from the spectacle she’d been orchestrating over the last hour and a half, and she knew she wouldn’t take long. But this time she made herself wait, stopping just short of her own orgasm.

“I think you’ll like this next part,” she said to him, before climbing slowly on top of him, letting her legs go through the open arms of the chair onto the floor. His body had backed away slightly from the precipice of orgasm, but his cock had not softened at all. She reached behind her and, careful not to cause too much stimulation, guided her cock to the entrance of her dripping pussy. She sat back slowly, allowing herself to adjust to his length and girth, until she was sitting on top of his thighs, his cock fully inside her.

Their eyes met. She placed her hands on his chest, and began to fuck him. Slowly she would rise up, her soft folds caressing his length, drawing moans of pleasure from his body. Even in this, she timed her movements to extend his pleasure, pausing at the top or bottom of a stroke whenever she felt he needed the short respite. This took all her willpower, since delaying his orgasm meant also delaying her own. She was on the edge as well.

She buried her head in his neck, kissing and licking his neck and ears, trying to hold on just a bit longer. She could tell his cock was nearing the explosion that she’d held just out of his reach for so long.

“Maybe next time, I’ll get to keep you locked up for the whole month,” she whispered in his ear.

The dam broke. Two weeks of pent-up lust and teasing exploded from his cock in a white-hot gush. Pulse after pulse of cum flowed from his cock. The feeling of him exploding inside her broke her own resistance, and she screamed into his shoulder, their moans of ecstasy mingling with one another and filling the room.


The cleaned up and showered together, kissing passionately. She teasingly soaped and rinsed his tired genitals, and they swelled once again.

After getting out of the shower and allowing his penis to once again recede, she helped him put his chastity belt back on. “Are you ready?,” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She pulled five dice from a side pocket of her bag, and handed them to him. Exhaling sharply, he rolled them onto the desk that stood on the edge of the room.

His eyes darted over them, quickly trying to add the numbers in his head.

“19,” she said, the excitement evident in her voice. “A new record! Meet back here in 19 days?” He sighed noticeably.

They parted ways, him leaving shortly before her, as always.

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