 
Balletlover - Balletmania
written by Vic at on 14.08. at 17:37:02 - as answer to: Re: You think THAT'S bad... by Pinktights_blackleotards@yahoo.com at Marie had a nice little surprise planned for me sunday morning. We'd both been up til about 1 am saturday night scouring the nauseating, gummy, reeking, nicotine residue off the pieces of furniture Marie's mom (Jeane) brought with her & will be using in her room. We both collapsed & slept like logs until about 11 am. I am gradually awakening, when I felt the mattress moving oddly. I blink my eyes open to see my beloved Marie standing up in bed, straddling me, wearing only a smile and a pair of her cute black leather Bloch slippers. A number of colorful scarves were clutched in one hand. My pulse quickens, because I realize this is the prelude to one of our favorite "quickie" games (Marie had to meet her sister for lunch in less than an hour). The "victim" (yours truly) is to lay on his back, arms outstretched, while the "tormentor" does whatever she wishes to steal my "purity of essence" (as they say in "Dr. Strangelove"). The twist on this game is that the scarves represent a sort of pseudo-bondage- a scarf draped across one's wrist equates to that wrist being tied up, for example. Disrupting a "bondage scarf" prior to climax results in "penalty"- a brisk spanking(!) and the players switch places. Often times the "tormentor" will include things such as tickling, slowly plucking out a pubic hair or two, trying (& often succeeding!) at making the "victim" dislodge a scarf. The more scarves, obviously, the greater level of difficulty. "Tormentor Marie" was merciful- only 3 scarves in use. One over each wrist, and one draped over my mouth (symbolic gag- not a bad idea with mother-in-law in the next room)! I noticed a folded towel beside me on the bed, upon which she squeezed a fair portion of k-y gel. balancing on her left leg, she extended her right leg, her pointing leather slippered toes the very picture of grace. Folding her leg downward, she dabs the very tip of her slipper in the gel, her lovely ankle imparting a slight swirling motion. (Folks, this isn't easy to do while standing on a mattress!!) She then proceeds to, ever so lightly, trace the glistening leather tip of her slipper up & down the length of my rock-hard shaft, imparting just the slightest left-right wiggle to my inner piping. All the while, treating me to one of her most hungry, sultry looks. (Marie can get me more excited with one of her patented glances that most women could with a naked dance!) She can tell by my body language that I can't take this for long (I'm only human!), so she cocks her head a bit to the side, gives a slight wink, and breathes- "I think you're ready". She kneels down atop me, eases my mouth scarf away, plants a warm, sweet, kiss on my lips, repaces the scarf (hey- rules are rules!) And eases me inside her. She knows just the right rhythm and subtle hip thrusts to really set me aflame. I can tell an electrifying, fist-clenching orgasm is a couple of plunges away! I think- yes...yes... oh God, YES YES! YESYESYES.. RING!!! RING!!!... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! THE BLOODY FUCKING DAMN PHONE!!!! My eyes dart sideways- it's mother-in-law's cell number on caller I.D.! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! She can't navigate the stairs, (the bedrooms are on 2nd floor). Has she fallen? Is her oxygen tank empty & she's suffocating? I grab the phone. "Hello- is Marie at home?" she says. My eyes feel as if they're bulging out of their sockets. "Yes- are you OK?!" "Mostly." My head feels about to explode, so I hand the phone to Marie. After a couple of seconds Marie hurredly hangs up, says "Mom says she needs help." She pulls off her slippers, throws on a t-shirt & shorts & goes to check on things. I lay there in bed, starting to feel guilty about being upset over interrupted lovemaking, while a family member could be suffocating, conceivably even dying, in the next room. I hear voices. I can't make out the words, but I can tell Marie's tone is the one she uses when she's angry, but striving mightily to control it. A minute or so passes. Marie returns to our room. "Is your Mom OK?" I ask. Marie answers back through clenched teeth- "Mom... wanted me... to get her... the sunday... crossword puzzle..."Maire and I glare at one another for a silent moment, then in unison, through clenched teeth, we both find ourselves involuntarily uttering a low, slow, crazed, almost "Beavis & Butthead" sounding chuckle. The sort of subdued mania you might imagine 2 convicts sharing as they stand beside each other on the gallows, manila rope nooses itching their necks, waiting for the floor to drop. By now, the sex mood was, shall we say, gone. I was in full "retract" mode, and Marie was running out of time before her lunch meeting. Marie later in the day had a long chat with her mom, gently explaining a few rules we came up with to make life hopefully work a bit smoother & prevent such a thing from happening again.Side note- that afternoon, as we're coming home, a neighbor offered us a few words of sympathy & encouragement. Marie says- "Thanks- Vic has been a bit stressed lately." The neighbor says- "Yes, I could kinda tell." I respond- "Thank you- perhaps you could tell by the aura I'm giving off that ignites dry twigs as I walk past!"Send me luck- Vic Answers to this message:
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