The Tub of Cherry Garcia

Anal

“Bitch!” I heard from down in the kitchen. ‘Now what?’ I thought to myself, still lying naked in my girlfriend’s bed, basking in the afterglow of some sweet early evening passion with Kaitleen. I could hear the annoyance in her voice and knew that, in spite of the fact I had just spent most of the evening delivering her pussy to nirvana, that annoyance in her voice was clearly with me! I heard the freezer door slam shut abruptly. Obviously she had just discovered that I had finished off the last few scoopfuls of her beloved Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia the night before to satisfy my late-night munchies. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but in retrospect… Katie really loved her favorite ice cream!”Beth!” she shouted up at me. I could hear that my sexy girlfriend had now reverted to the adversarial tones she used in her day-job as a successful litigator. I could tell I was about to be cross-examined with the same merciless tenacity she would give to a hostile witness. “What’s the matter, baby?” I replied, in the sweetest, most innocent voice I could deliver. I waited to see if my dulcet tones had ameliorated her mood, but…silence! Maybe the ‘puppy-face’ would work. I practiced raising my eyebrows and affecting a slight pout by pushing my lower lip out ever-so-slightly so that when she saw my contrition I might be able to get away with my high-crime with only a swat on the bottom and some delicious make-up sex. I looked güvenilir bahis towards the bedroom door to see her already standing there with an empty tub of ice cream in her hand. She held it out and turned it upside-down for emphasis. Apparently, I hadn’t even left her a drop. I decided the puppy-face wasn’t going to cut it! “Oh, sweetie! I forgot to tell you… you’re out of ice cream.” I smiled pathetically, hoping that if I brushed the matter aside off-handedly, I could change the subject quickly and distract her. She set the evidence down on top of the bureau and pulled open the top drawer, fishing around for something hidden amongst her underwear. I was starting to get nervous, and the precariousness of my position suddenly began to dawn on me. I was spread naked on her bed with my feet tangled up in the bed-sheets which I had clumsily kicked around my ankles to cool off after our last heated round of sweaty sex!She walked over to me from the bureau, having found whatever it was she was looking for. I reached my arms out for a hug, but before I knew it, she had grabbed my hands and slapped a pair of hand-cuffs around my wrists, and jerking me backwards, tied the cuffs off to the rungs of the head-board with the belt of her robe. I started kicking my feet out from under the knot of sheets twisted around them, but the more I kicked, the more entangled I became. My desperate struggles only gave her time to tie a length of nylon rope güvenilir bahis siteleri around my right leg just above the ankle. With my arms already stretched out over my head, and one foot now secured to the bed-post, I knew she had me. I surrendered my last unrestrained limb to her, resigned to whatever fate she had in mind for me. “Fun and games, sweetie?” I inquired, trying for a bit of levity. The slightest glimmer of satisfaction was beginning to color her expression as she just glared at me while tying my left ankle to the other bedpost.As a lawyer, my lover fancied herself an avenging angel of justice. Apparently, I had already been indicted, tried, and convicted of grand-theft: ice-cream. The only unanswered question going through my mind was the gravity of my sentence! I was hoping for some hot, kinky bondage sex, but my quirky and imaginative lover could never be counted on to be predictable, and the quizzical look on her face told me the wheels were really spinning this time. Since I suspected her obsessive love of her favorite Ben & Jerry’s flavor more than likely trumped her love for me at the moment, her revenge upon me probably wouldn’t include any orgasms. I had to start thinking of other possibilities. Naturally, Katie did the unexpected! She walked out the bedroom door and left me like that. “Hey!” I shouted after her. She peeked her head around the doorway as I strained to lift my head up to see her eyebrows iddaa siteleri raise inquisitively. “You can’t just leave me alone like this!” I pleaded. She walked back in and took the empty tub of ice cream off the top of the dresser and placed it on my bare tummy to remind me of my capital offense and then she left. I was amused at the lengths she was taking this, so I indulged her in a bit of literary drama… “For the love of God, Montresor!” I shouted, as her footsteps receded down the hallway. I knew she was well-read enough to know the famous Poe story of revenge I was quoting, and sure enough, her first words back to me since she’d shouted from the kitchen were Montresor’s reply from The Casque of Amontillado verbatim: “Yes! For the Love of God!” At least I was bound to a nice, soft bed instead of the nitre-encrusted catacombs beneath the wine-cellars of Montresor’s ancient Italian palazzo. I heard her enter the bathroom and then, a few minutes later, she was downstairs walking out the door. I could see she was really going to make me pay for this, and for the first time I began to wonder what lengths she was prepared to go to teach me a lesson. My mind started wandering down worrisome paths as I recalled the book Gerald’s Game, in which Stephen King had written about a husband who partaking in a perverse bondage ritual for sexual gratification, ties his wife securely to the bed and then unexpectedly dies of a heart attack, leaving her trapped and helpless. Perhaps I thought of it because the poor victim’s spouse in the story was also a lawyer, but more than likely I was just engaging in the type of nagging insecurity Katie wanted me to be feeling as part of my punishment.

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