Three Weeks in Dallas Kindle Book

I compiled all the Dallas posts into a kindle book which is now available from Amazon, if you're into that kind of thing. That's the cover, above, and the link to the book, below. The posts read in order, from the first, to the last. No images, though.

See/buy it here

Dallas-The End

I found her waiting for me in a bar at the airport. Her flight had arrived a bit early (stunner) and I had trouble finding parking, so she'd been there for about fifteen minutes and was enjoying a glass of wine.

"Sara," she said when I walked in, calling me by my feminine name though I was not entirely feminine at the time, not in a skirt and heels, as she was. I was feminine enough, though, enough that she knew it immediately. My outfit looked androgynous, but it was feminine indeed, women's clothes on a boy, a soft, feminine boy, a mix, her love. I had worn a lilac blouse and women's black trousers. 

My hair is not this long, but with nail gel and very faint makeup, I was certainly not going to be mistaken for a masculine guy. You'll ask, so, yes, women's shoes, too, though again, not overtly so:

Under? I decided to forgo a bra; I tried and it was too obvious. But panties were a must, control type, to hide and keep the blasted cage in place, as were sheer black trouser socks, knee highs really, (saving a more appropriate outfit for when we got home.)

So that was me. Emily? She traveled in a skirt suit, similar to the one the model is wearing above.

Enough about fashion? 

Emily, fuck, Emily. She looked so hot, so pretty, so amazing, so wonderful (and a little tired) after not seeing her for three weeks.

We embraced, the embrace of friends and lovers, of lost souls.

"I missed you so much, Emily."

"I missed you, too, Sara," she whispered back in my ear.

"I...you didn't answer last night," I could not help myself, could not help.

"It was late, love, and I texted." True, she did.

"What...what happened," I blurted out, already swelling in the stupid cage.

"Sara, Sara," she put her hand up, silencing me. "This isn't the time or place, love."

I bit my lip; she was right, of course she was right.

"You look very nice," she said, motioning me to sit while she finished her drink, implicitly approving the clothing I'd worn. 

"Thank you, I...I wanted to wear something, um, cute." I leaned forward so as to whisper, "I wanted to be feminine and I didn't want to wear any boy clothes."

She reached across the table, touched my hand. "You felt more feminine while I was gone, I appreciate the effort thought, sweetie, I dressed up for you, too.

"You look amazing, Emily, I mean, wow."

"I feel like I gained ten pounds."

"Well, you must have checked that piece of luggage because you look amazing."

"I don't know, but I'm going on a crash diet."

"Tomorrow, I hope, I'm planning dinner."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I thought I'd make, I've been planning, a five course meal, small dishes, so you could unpack and unwind as I cooked."

"I think that's a great idea."

And so, to speed ahead a bit, I cooked, she unpacked, we ate in between. I stayed locked, and her lips stayed sealed about Dallas.

I have to mention, of course, that Sara cooked. Not androgynous Sara, but real Sara. Skirt replaced trousers, stockings replaced socks, heels replaced low shoes.

As we sat down to the last course, Emily sat across from me and I asked once again.

"So, last night?"

"After dinner, Sara, after dinner."

*****

After dinner.

After dinner, Emily said she wanted to freshen up from traveling, from unpacking. "Why don't you put on something pretty, lover, light some candles, pour some wine, while I take a shower and do the same."

It was becoming difficult to go on, the swelling, the anticipation, the need to know, but I did.

And so I dressed in pretty lingerie for my lover, feminine, soft, the opposite of him, of Todd, of the once she was flirting and touching and who was...

Had to stop thinking, had to stop swelling.

And then Emily walked out of the bathroom and all the thoughts and anticipation came crashing down on me the second I saw what she was wearing. 

It wasn't the robe, the silver satin with lace lining. It was pretty, but that wasn't it, that wasn't what drove me to the edge of sanity.

It was what was underneath, the sheer bra and panty set, the sheer bra and panty set she said she was wearing the other day when she was with Todd, the sheer bra and panty set he saw her in, touched her in, the sheer lingerie that were the only thing between her body and his cock, that she got wet in, that she touched him with, that she teased him with, that she made him cum on, that sheer bra and panty set.

That's what I saw as she tied her robe closed and walked slowly to the bed.

"Hon, before we talk about Dallas, we need to talk about the cage."

"What about the cage?"

"I want you to wear it for one more day."

"EMILY! I have not seen you for THREE WEEKS, I want to..."

"Now hear me out, Sara," she said. "I know, I know, I want to make love, too, believe me, I do. You've been so feminine these three weeks and I've missed that and, well, I want to make love to you, to that part of you, to Sara."

"But Em, I...I want to," I looked down, ashamed, "I want to cum."

"As Sara."

"Please, Emily." Oddly, for the first time, I was not swollen, I mean, I should be, but I wasn't."

She reached out, touched my leg though the stockings I had on. "Don't let the boy part of you out tonight, Sara, tonight I need a woman."

I wanted out, I wanted out, I wanted out!!!!

She scooted up on the bed and her robe came partially open, exposing her panties and my eyes were drawn to them, to the sheerness, and naughty things quickly ran through my mind.

"You've always liked these panties, haven't you?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"He liked them, too."

I sucked in a breath, rapid, unconscious, sucked it in as the swelling began again, immediate, powerful, trapped.

"Yes, Sara, these are the ones I wore on my date last week."

"Last night, did you...did you..."

"He came over last night, Sara, he came over and we had a nice quite dinner and some wine."

My eyes remained on her panties, staring not at her womanhood beneath, but the panties themselves. "What did you do," I managed to ask.

"Sara?"

"Huh," I asked, eyes fixated on the sheer cloth covering her.

"I missed your mouth, lover."

"Hgh."

"Nobody ever worships my body like you do."

"What...what did you do last night," I asked again, still looking down.

"Not much, we ate and talked about the training and sat on the couch...messed around a little..."

The sharp intake or breath. Crap, that was from me. And I still would not look up at her, I was still focused on the panties.

"Did you miss licking me, Sara."

"Ohhhh," I gasped yet again, just melting, just putty. 

"Did you miss your tongue teasing me through my panties?"

"Yes." A squeak, a mouse, hardly audible. "Messed...messed around?"

"Like a man and a woman Sara."

"Did you...did you..."

She interrupted me. "I want your tongue, Sara, fuck, even when he was touching me, I thought of your tongue."

"Did you..."

"Stop staring, Sara, lick me, lick me."

I was shaking, did she fuck him, that's what I wanted to ask, did she?

"Emily," I moaned, on my hands and knees, crawling towards her, up her legs, towards her panties. She was right, she always was, I not only liked licking her, I loved licking her, I loved licking her panties, nothing made me hotter than tasting her through silk or satin or nylon.

I was closer; I could smell her, the wetness now. Not always before I touched her or played with her, but not, obvious, the musk, the wetness, the excitement.

"Sara, look at me."

I paused, mouth only inches from her, the pain in my groin overwhelmed by my lust for her, looked up in her eyes. "What," I asked, hardly able to resist moving the last few inches.

"I did not wash them."

Our eyes locked. She stared at me, saw the understanding in my face, the silent communication. She did not wash them since last week, since her date, since she was on top of Todd, since she teased him, since he made her cum, since she returned the favor.

She did not wash them.

The musk wasn't just her, it was him, too, his scent, his body, his fluids. 

His cum.

She did not wash them and by asking me, by telling me, she wanted me to lick her though her panties, was telling me to lick him, too. 

"You...you don't have to..."

I pushed myself forward, could not help, could not resist, had to, needed to, wanted to, tongue out, mouth open, desperate.

Didn't have to? Of course I didn't have to, but the thing was I could not resist. After three weeks, night after night of thinking about her, day after day of chastity, feminized almost constantly, I wanted her.

And the dirty little secret?

I wanted him, too. 

Cum. 

Todd's cum was on her panties.

A week old to be sure, barely visible, but there. 

In texture, the slight crust. In smell, the musk.

I dove it.

And she rewarded me with an immediate shake, an immediate spasm, immediate pleasure.

I dove in an licked.

She was right, generally, day to day, I LOVED licking her through her panties. I started, often, love making with kisses and touching and massaging, but when I finally got there, when foreplay got serious, I would gently, lightly, then passionately, lick her, through her panties.

This was no different.

Except I started there.

Except her panties were soiled with him.

"We messed around," she whispered.

"Oh, Emily," I moaned, licking more vigorously. Licking her. Licking him.

Yes, I was ashamed of what I was doing.

But that only made it more erotic, more compelling.

She talked, I licked.

"We messed around, but it isn't the same as with you, Sara."

"I know," I licked, I looked up.

"He touched me and all I could think about was you."

She talked, I licked, she shuddered.

"It was just like last Friday, my soft, sweet, lover, we were on my couch drinking wine."

Painting a mental picture.

"I wanted to...to...I told him I'd be right back, went to go get us each another glass of wine. But I stopped by my bedroom first, put on that cranberry babydoll you bought for me, brought the wine back wearing just that. 

I was shaking, too, imagining her easily in the lingerie. The lingerie I'd bought for her. 

"I think his tongue fell out of his mouth, lover."

Of course it would, she was beautiful. I'd seen her in that very lingerie and she was beautiful.

"Fuck, Emily, he said. I giggled. Fuck, indeed. His eyes were burning into me and, and, having a man stare at me was so, god, felt so good, you understand, Sara? You're the love of my life, but sometimes I, sometimes a man..."

"Emily," I shook, licking her stomach, her panties, her thighs.

"You're safe and soft and sweet and perfect, but not a man."

"Emily," I shook again. "Please, did you...did you..."

"He wasn't like you at all. He was rough and awkward, different. Men are so...so different."

"Did you?"

"You use your mouth, he used his hands. He knew that. How to...how to make me," she bit her lip. "Cum."

"Ohhhhhhhh." I could not help it, I licked her again, through the panties. Again. Wet now, from her, from my mouth, wet, her, wet, him.

"Off, Sara, off, tongue."

I obliged, slipped the panties off her. If I wasn't locked up, I don't know that I could have used my mouth again, that boy part of me, that little part that was a boy, just may have taken over. 

But I was locked up. So I licked her again, bare now, my tongue directly on her, making her orgasm in seconds.

"Did you," I asked again.

"I was on top of him, he had wasted no time undressing this time. On top of him, his cock, fuck, his cock, Sara, his cock. Sliding over me, cock, thinking of you, feeling his cock. He wanted me so badly, Sara, he wanted to fuck me."

"Emily," I was dizzy, the room spinning.  

"The cabinet in the garage, under the plastic bin on the top on the left."

"What," I asked. "What?"

"The key, Sara."

"What?"

"He made me cum again. I just rubbed on his cock and he made me cum again."

I was panting, hardly able to breath, panting, licking, confined. "Emily, did he..."

"The key, under the bin."

"Key?"

"To the cage, Sara. That's where I hid it."

The key. That key.

"Get it, Sara, get it. Get it now."

I was torn. I wanted to shout, did you fuck him, but the key, she was offering me the key, now. She said I had to wait, but here it was, I could grasp it, here it was, release, orgasm, everything.

"I..." The garage. I was only in lingerie. Stockings. The garage. The cold garage.

"Are...are you sure."

"Get the key. Now. Please, now."

I needed no more. I quickly got up, to put on slippers to go the garage. While getting slippers, I saw her reach for the top drawer of her night stand, open it, pull out a vibrator. I paused in the doorway, watched her move it between her legs, heard it start. Fuck, oh fuck, fuck.

Watched her touch herself.

"Key, Sara," she hissed.

Fuck.

Her garage, as always, was fucking freezing. I went to the cabinet, opened it, rummaged around. Key, where was the key? Which bin?  Yes, top. Top shelf, left.

There, there it was, fuck, there it was. Oh fuck, three weeks, there it was.

I took it, looked down. Irony, for the first time since I saw here, I was not swollen. The cold garage, the focus on finding the key, I was small, now, shrunken. I suppose I should have brought the key back to her, but I was afraid I'd swell again the second I saw her. In fact, I thought of her, the vibrator, and felt it already.

I hesitated no more and unlocked the lock and took off the horrid cage.

The response was immediate, the flow of blood, the freedom. 

The swelling was immediate.

And urges irresistible.  

I touched myself.

STOP!

My brain screamed.

STOP!

Yes, yes, stop.

I just put it all in the cabinet. The key, the lock, the cage, the other parts to it. All of it.

I put it back and practically ran back into the house, ran back to her.

She was fucking herself with the vibrator. She heard me, continued.

"I wanted to him to fuck me," she said when she sensed me in the doorway.

"Did he, Emily, did he?"

She did not answer, could not, she was too close, fucking herself, too close to orgasm. The spasms, the shaking, the moaning. 

Too close.

I was on the bed, watching, vibrator as substitute for cock. In and out. Seeing the vibrator thinking of his cock.

I licked. 

I licked her as she fucked herself.

And when she took it out of herself and touched her clit with it, I licked again. The vibrator this time.

I licked it and opened my mouth and took it in like a woman would a cock.

The vibrator covered with her, tasting of her.

Sucked it.

Like a cock.

She saw, she watched, she shook.

She watched her lover, her sissy, eagerly suck the vibrator like a woman would a cock.

"Do you really want to know, Sara?"

I looked up, vibrator/cock in my mouth.

"Do you really want to know if he fucked me?"

I tasted her. Imagined him. Tasted her, imagined his cock in my mouth, wet with her, imagined licking her cum off his cock as I was now licking her cum off the vibrator.

"What if he didn't? What if he did?"

Did I want to know? She fucked Evan, I'm sure, right? But did she really? Did she fuck Todd, too? Did I want to know, for sure? Would I rather imagine it every day? Wouldn't the fantasy be more powerful?

What if she didn't? Would that make it better or worse? Would I beg her to do it? Did she want to?

This all ran through my mind in an instant. Fantasy or reality? What was the reality?

I was torn. Did I want to know?

A second instant passed.

Cock still in my mouth, tasting her, looking at her.

"I want you inside me."

I think by hesitating I answered her question. I don't think I did want to know. Fuck, I think I liked the tease more than anything else. And she knew. She knew all along.

I don't know if she fucked him or not. I know she messed around with him.

Messed around quite a bit.

But did she fuck him?

Did she feel his cock inside her?

I wanted her to, or at least, I thought I wanted her to.

Yes, I wanted to say yes, to have her say yes, that yes, she fucked him.

Didn't I?

But I hesitated and now she said she wanted to feel me inside her.

Three weeks in chastity.

Three weeks of torment.

Three weeks without control of my own orgasm.

And now she wanted me inside her.

Suddenly I was. 

In a fluid movement, I was on top of her, kissing her, inside her, the wet, warmth, familiar feeling of the love of my life.

It took mere seconds. I knew it would, wished it were different.

But I made her cum over and over not by being inside her like a man, but by making love to her like a woman.

I did not want to be her man, I could not be her man.

Maybe he did fuck her, I assume he did, but I did not know.

Seconds, mere seconds.

And explosion.

No hope of holding back.

"I love you so much, Sara," she whispered in my ear as the waves crashed around me, her whisper making them more powerful and more erotic and full of love and emotion.

I don't know, the question was not answered.

I don't know.

I think, but I don't know.

I think he fucked her, but I don't know.

He may not have, but I don't know.

"I love you, Emily. I love you."

Dallas-wait for it

Yes, there is a conclusion to the saga. It involves a reunion, a confession, lots of love and touching, perhaps a release. Of sorts.

I'm just not ready blog about it yet. But I will.

Dallas-Flower

Tomorrow night is going to be her last night in Dallas, she gets home Saturday. Her roommate is flying out Friday, so she had the place to herself Friday night.

She said there was a single rose outside her unit's door on Friday morning, a single yellow rose, with a note.

"I'd like to come over tomorrow. Todd."

She sent him a text right away. "Of course."

"I don't know, so don't ask," she told me. "I really don't know."

"Emily, you..."

"I know, I have your permission. But that doesn't mean I want to."

I'm going to be swollen from now until late Friday night or early Saturday morning.

Dallas-Permission

I would update more but:

1. I am busy, I have a life here at home, even alone, and it has been crazy busy (work, work).

2. She is busy, it isn't all about teasing me, she's training, busy, working.

UPDATE:

Sunday, we talked about that for a few.

"You're okay," she asked me.

"Yes, Emily, you know I am."

"You're sure, Sara, really sure? There's a line between fantasy and..."

"Reality. Yes, I know."

"I...I blurred that."

"I know that, too."

"I don't want to...I mean, you're my best friend and lover, Sara."

"Emily, do you know how hot that was?"

"Yea."

"Do you know how badly I wanted to...to cum?"

She giggled. "Yea, I bet, as much as I did, at least. But still, I was, I mean, he was."

"Wait, let me ask, were you all hot and bothered because of him or thinking of me or both?"

"Both, I guess."

"Would you have messed around with him if it wasn't for me?"

Which went to the heart of the question, in my mind.

"No."

Which is what I assumed and hoped and thought. "This wasn't about Todd, Emily, right? This was about me, about us?"

"Yes, you know that."

"That's why I'm okay with it, Em, that's what make it so hot. You wanted him, but you didn't want him, you wanted him because he was there and I'm not and I'm here locked up thinking of you..."

"And it gets me so hot thinking about that, Sara."

"I know."

"I was so close to fucking him, Sara."

"I know." I bit my lip, almost unable to say it, not sure if I wanted to, if I should. "You...you can, Emily."

I heard her sharp intake of breath, wondered if she just had an orgasm. Yea, from her lover telling her it was okay to fuck a guy. "I know, Sara. I knew then. I wanted his cock inside me, not just cause it would have felt so good, but I wanted him to fuck me because I knew it would make you feel and that made me so hot."

It was my turn to suck in a breath.

"That makes you hot, doesn't it?"

"Yea," I swallowed.

"Thinking of me like that."

"Yes, Emily, yes, yes."

"I love you, Sara."

And, busy, buys as I was on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday, all I could think about, all day, every second, was Emily with a cock inside her, riding, getting fucked, having an orgasm, thinking of me!

Dallas-Date Night

I could finally post this.  It was hard to do. And I would not change any of it.

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."

Dallas-Quick Update

I know, I know, it has been a slow week of blogging. For all the fun and frustrations of being without Emily, life sometimes goes on as normal, that is, I do have a job and things have been busy and stressful.

So, updates?

Almost two weeks in chastity SUCK. On the one hand, one gets used to it, the cage, the differences. On the other hand, two weeks in chastity? No orgasm? And thinking about her all the fucking time!

Maybe she's getting tired of me telling her over and over and over how much I miss her and all the things I want to do when she gets back.

And response last night?

"You're assuming I'm going to unlock you when I get home."

Emily, fuck, we will have been apart for three weeks, won't you miss me?

"Oh, I'll miss you, love, I'm just saying I might not unlock you that first night, I might let you take out your frustrations with your mouth and your hands and a vibrator. Let's face it, you're likely to cum the second I unlock you."

Well, isn't that the fucking truth.

I'm afraid she's right, and I'm just as afraid that the solution is obvious and terrible. Sex without getting unlocked. Serving her, without any relief for me.

And so it's Friday night, tonight. Todd asked her to go out, he's taking her to some play and to dinner.

"Taking you?"

"Yea."

"Taking you makes it sound like a date."

"Kind of."

"Is it?"

"I guess kind of when you think of it...but that's okay, isn't it?"

Yea, permission. She asked for permission to go on a date. How nice, how wonderful, how idiotic...yet, how much did it turn me on? I had to wait awhile to go to sleep, wait for the swelling to do down.

So that's the update. For now.

Chastity and a date.

Nothing new...yet everything, fucking everything.

Dallas-Fantasies

Busy day yesterday.

For me and for Emily.

Did not hear from her until late, 10:30 her time.

Todd came over to her place and she and her roommate and Todd studied.

Yea, I have a dirty mind, made so much more dirtier by being in chastity.

This is what I picture them studying.

Dallas-Morning

"What are you doing this morning," she just texted me.

"Got up, showered, dressed in a skirt and blouse, did my fingernails, straightening up. You?"

"Playing with myself thinking about that guy's cock and u'r tongue both on my pussy. Talk to u later :)"

Dallas-Night Club

I asked her what she was doing last night. Bunch of girls were going to some night club. Being in Dallas is a bit crazy this week, Superbowl and all. So they were going clubbing.

I had dinner with friends, was home by 10:30, ironically, probably when she was just getting started.

By 11:00 I was in lingerie, in bed, reading. She was in lingerie type clothing, out, partying.

I got a bunch of text messages over the next several hours.

-OMG this place is amazing.

-Miss you, lover. Wish u were here w/ me, pretty girl.

"You're drinking :)" I texted back, her playful mood obvious.

-Yea. I do wish u were here, I'm kind of tipsy and feeling horny. Want 2 make out?

"Um, fuck yes, do u know how hard this is?"

-Giggle, not too hard, chastity gurl.

"Bitch. Do you know how bad I want out???"

I did not hear from her for a bit, like 45 minutes.

-Two weeks, sissy.

-Dancing!

"With the girls...or guys?"

-Started w/ just girls, cocks were drawn to us?

Cocks...meaning guys. Yea, go figure that one, guys drawn to a group of girls dancing. Anyone wonder what that did to the pretty sissy in bed, alone, in chastity, lights out, late at night. Swell, swell.

-Cock. Silly Dallas men.

"What do you mean?"

-Danced with some guy; he was hard!

"How do you know," I texted back, fingers hardly able to hit the letters on my iPhone.

-Dirty dancing!!!

"Damn, Em, 

-So hot, sissy. I can feel it between my legs...and I like it!

"I love it when you get wet."

-Yea, why don't you come taste it then, bitch :)

"Fuck, Em, if I was there I would in a second.

-B back, dancing again!

I was sore, like, really sore, like, swollen in a chastity cage sore, like massage what I could, touching myself, girl like, sore, excited, anxious.

-Fuck, I'm dripping.

"Sweat? From dancing?

-Ha, that too. Dripping between my legs from dancing with this guy. So cute!

"Dammit Emily, you're making me imagine you dancing."

-You love that!

"Yes. Picturing him rubbing on you.

-Behind me. His had on my stomach, pulling me backwards to him.

"If his hand goes up, he finds your breasts, down, your wetness."

-Just his wool trousers and my thin dress between my skin and his cock.

"I want to cum, Emily."

-But you can't!!! But I can!!!

"Emily, please!"

-He wants 2 dance again. Should I let him touch my breasts? Find out how wet I am?

"I want to find out how wet you are, with my mouth!"

-2 bad U not here, luv to feel your tongue. Close u'r eyes and imagine tasting me.

"I love tasting you."

-Going 2 dance now. 2 bad u not here w/ tongue. Maybe should let him rub his cock against my pussy instead, just on outside, where u'r tongue would b.

If I was not locked up, I'd have jerked off and cum all over myself right then and right there. I had the mental image, the picture, guy behind her, dark club, she's shaking her ass, not drunk, but tipsy, rubbing against his cock.

I picture him, getting daring. It's dark, who will notice.

He unzips his pants, she doesn't realize it, she's looking forward, watching other people, making sure no one is watching. They are not. Too busy doing their own thing.

It takes her a second to realize he is not pushing against her anymore. She is about to turn around, ask him if everything is okay. Then she feels a hand on one of her left thigh. His other hand on her ass. And he whispers in her ear.

"Tell me to stop, it's cool, any time."

She shakes her head. She knows she's wet. She can stop this any time. That's what she tells herself. Any time. She doesn't want to, not yet, knowing I'm home, her sissy. She loves it.

"Ohhhhh," she suddenly realizes why she did not feel him for a minute. 

Because she feels him now. Between her her legs, the hardness, between her thighs, his skin now touching hers, hard, throbbing, pulsating, big.

She could say stop, he knows it, she could get pissed or yell, or tell him no.

But she doesn't. The music is playing, the beat, the bump, grind. Pulsating. The music. His cock.

She doesn't say no. She dances, her movements saying yes.

And he's against her, as she moves, the heat, it's big, not huge, but big. It's masculine. It's hard. It's alpha. It's man.

Everything. I. Am. Not.

And it's touching her, the wetness, coating it, coating him, rubbing on her lips, each beat of music, she rubs him up. Each beat of music she rubs him down.

His cock, stroking her. Soaked. Coated. Head touching her.

On her clit.

Wet.

Cock head on her clit.

Wet.

Shaking.

She is about to cum, she knows it. This guy behind her with his cock, this guy, this man...

Man...

He is about to make her cum.

If she moves just a half inch he'll thrust inside her and she won't be able to stop. If he is inside her she won't want to stop. She'll want to get fucked. Hard. Fucked. Fucked!

She's close, on the edge...

And steps back.

She turns and smiles at him and now his cock is in her hand and she's squeezing it, gently, touching his cock. 

He knows. That's all he's going to get. She's going to leave him hard and throbbing and wanting to cum so bad.

Just like me.

He knows. He sees her smile. He knows. He wants to fuck her, but he isn't going to. His eyes are sparkling. He was close, too, close to fucking her. He wants to, too, but...

He's not going to. It's all good.

-I am soooooo wet, sissy. I'll talk 2 u later.

We did. She was totally horny later. We talked. And she talked dirty. She touched herself while we talked and told me how hard his cock was and how horny it made her feeling him against her and how she got even more excited thinking about me.

We talked and she played with herself and so did I but I was the one locked up and helpless, locked up, listening to her make herself cum. 

"I'm rubbing myself thinking of his cock rubbing me from behind while you're kneeling in front of me licking me."

I wanted to die her words were so dirty and disgusting and made me so horny.

"You'd taste me, Sara?"

"Yes, fuck yes, I love to taste you."

"You'd lick my clit and my pussy?"

"Anytime, now, always."

"While he's behind me, rubbing me?"

"Yes, fuck, Emily, fuck."

"His cock all wet from my pussy."

"Oh, shit yes."

"Wet from your tongue, too. Do you feel it? Do you feel his cock. On your tongue?"

I was shaking when she said that, shaking, my mental image matching her words.

"Yes."

"Fuck, Sara, I wish you were here! I'm so fucking wet, imagining you licking me and licking him, licking my pussy, licking his cock as he rubs me. I'm dripping. He's dripping too. Lick me, Sara, lick me while he slides his cock inside me. Lick his cock before he fucks me."

She came saying that, came hard. She moaned. And moaned. And I did too. But only she came.

And I did not sleep well the rest of the night which is why I'm writing this so early. I think I was swollen all night.

And had the hottest text and phone sex I EVER had.

And I love her and miss her.

Fuck, Emily, FUCK!

Dallas-Sigh

Yea, I miss her. How can there be two weeks to go.

And fuck, the missing her is one thing.

Chastity is a whole different thing.

Sigh.

Have not heard from her since this morning, so nothing to report on what's going on, what's she's doing, anything.

Sigh.

Wish that was us, tonight.

It will be, but not for TWO WEEKS!

Dallas-Last Night

She finally called last night at 12:30.

"Hey. How...how are you," I asked, swelling in the case the second the phone rang, the second her picture showed up on my iPhone as her calling.

"Hmmm, I'm tired," she yawned, not a surprising response for 12:30 on a Friday night/Saturday night, though that wasn't quite the answer I was looking for.

"It...it's late," I gulped, late, too late for just dinner, obviously, she knew, I knew.

"Yea, sorry, we, he got a movie, so we had dinner, sat on the couch, watched a movie, talked for a little."

She knew, tease, she knew, my grunt was obvious, if she did not.

"We didn't fuck, lover, that's what you want to know, isn't it? We could have, he's a man, he would have, it was obvious, but we didn't."

"Em..."

"But you thought about it all night, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"He was sitting close to me; I could smell him, feel him. Every time I moved, my skirt rode up and I think he spent more time looking at my legs than the movie, but you like that."

"Damn, Em, yes."

"My little sissy, imagining a man next to me, you're so adorable."

We just chatted after that, signed off.

Nothing happened, though for nothing, that is all I thought about all evening.

Dallas-Still in a Mood

I'm in a mood.

Sitting home, in a mood.

Confused, still, unhappy, happy, not sure, maybe, what should I think?

It's late, not too late, but later than we usually talk at night.

Going on 11:00. Not terribly late, but late, still.

Especially since she's having dinner, heck, practicallly on a date with Todd.

No, not a date, but close, maybe too close. Maybe a date; I don't know.

I still don't know how to feel. Different than ever before; different than Evan; different.

maybe because she won't be home for two more weeks.

Maybe because I'm in in chastity.

Maybe because I'm frustrated, sexually.

Maybe because I don't like the idea of her flirting with a guy.

Maybe because I LOVE the idea of her flirting with Todd.

maybe because I love her more than any other woman I've ever known, ever, ever.

The duality of it.

Loving her flirting, loving her on a quasi-date.

Yet hating it just the same.

Loving it and hating it.

Love/hate.

I'm in a mood and so confused and I don't know what to feel.

I could have told her no, but I did not, I did not.

Maybe I feel guilty, then, because I said said yes by not saying no.

And so I'm in a mood.

Waiting for her to call.

Thinking of her with a guy.

Wishing she'd call now.

Thinking of her with Todd.

Do I want her to call or do I want to lay here, feminized, swollen in chastity, thinking about her, thinking about the Todd I've never met, thinking about how much I love her and she loves me.

Is sex with a guy good or bad?

Is it good or bad?

I want it and don't; I love it and hate it.

So I'm in a mood.

And I love her and miss her.

Dallas-Confusion

Yes, then there are times I wonder, what the fuck is wrong with me? Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME????

Why did I leave the office a little early to come home and do my makeup and nails and hair and get dressed in a skirt and blouse? I mean, okay, I'm a sissy, I get that, okay, I came to grips with that long ago.

But what about the other things?

I came home to do this, to sit at home, IN CHASTITY I REMIND YOU, all the while the love of my life, the person I CANNOT IMAGINE LIFE WITHOUT is in another city having dinner with some guy, flirting, doing who know what, FUCKING HIM?

I am a sissy and I sit home tonight, alone, while Emily flirts with Todd, flirts, laughs, teases, toys. What will he think? That she wants to fuck him, that's what he will think...and he may be right!!!

And I'm okay with this? Worse, I somehow accept it?

Worse, dammit, it excites me? I swell in this fucking chastity cage because I get excited about just thinking what she is doing?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

You think it is easy?

Seriously, this is what you want?

I don't want it.

Fuck, but a part of me does.

Why, fuck, why?

Deep breathing exercises, deep breathing.

It isn't like she doesn't love you, it isn't like she's going to fuck him.

Well, why did she bring condoms? Lingerie? Why is she going to a guy's apartment for dinner by herself.

And why does she have to know it excites me?

Why, why, WHY?

Tell her, you stupid sissy, tell her.

 No, no, no.

Yes, tell her.

Tell her you are jealous.

No, that is being childish, she is an adult woman, a woman I trust.

Trust her that much, do you?

Little voice--she is going to fuck him!

Bigger voice--she is going to fuck him, you silly sissy.

Little voice--please, please fuck him.

Bigger voice--PLEASE FUCK HIM.

Both voices....nooooooooooooooo.

Dammit, being left behing SUCKS.

Chastity sucks, SUCKS.

And I LOVE her so much and I'll say nothing. Fuck. Nothing. Fuck.

And I'll imagine it and hope for it and fantasize about it and, yes, need it.

I NEED IT.

Fuck.

She asked me today, "are you okay?"

"Yea, why?"

"Your voice sounds like, I don't know, like you're upset."

"No," I answered, my voice shaking, even cracking.

"You are, Sara."

"Maybe a little, I don't know, I miss you."

"I miss you, too," she answered, almost patronizing.

"Not like I miss you, I can tell."

"It isn't like that, Sara, you know that, we're just so busy and..."

"Todd," I managed to say.

"You want me to stay home, Sara?"

"No," I almost whimpered, so quite I don't know how she heard me. "I just wish, I don't know, it is hard not being able to call you at all during the day."

"I know, love, I know."

"And then you're..."

"I'll stay home, I'll make up some excuse, if you want."

"No," I almost cried, I don't know why, on the verge of tears, no, no, yes, no...this is hard...and I can stop it...she opens the door...and I don't, I won't...I can't...

"I'll call you later, Sara, I love you."

"I love you, too," I moaned, almost begging her, yet, not needing to, not wanting to, nerves shot just the same. Not wanting to.

This is hard, dammit, so hard.

Dallas-Dinner

"So you've got the night off," I asked hesitantly this afternoon talking to Emily on a break.

"Yea, finally, no studying. I've got a bunch to do over the weekend, but nothing tonight."

"I'm just sitting home tonight," I sighed, missing her so much.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said, probably about half sincere.

"You? You just sitting home tonight, too? We could talk while we're cooking.

Nerves, nerves, shooting throughout my body, nerves, hoping, unsure, unprepared, expecting.

"I ah, that sounds like fun, really, but, well...Todd kind of asked me to dinner. His roommate is going home for the weekend, so he's all alone and, well..."

"Oh," I said, disappointed, not surprised, suddenly anxious and excited and, fuck, scared.

"I didn't want to think of him sitting at his apartment all by himself."

"Where are you going? I thought the weather was bad down there?"

"Yea, it is, there's like a winter storm warning; they don't do snow too well down here. So, well, he asked me to come over; he's going to cook."

Silence. Growing silence. Figuratively, between us, literally, in the cage.

"Sara..."

"Yea?"

"Did you want me to say no?"

Silence again, accepting silence.

"Because I don't think you do, Sara."

Still silence.

"No," I whispered.

"It's just an innocent dinner date, sweetie."

Date, that word, date.

Date.

A kick, yet, not just hard, erotic, an erotic kick.

Date.

"You...you'll call later, Emily?"

"It might be late..."

"I...I know, I know."

Tight.

Date.

She teases, she teases.

Dallas-I love you

That's the text I got from Emily at 6:55 this morning.

It made my heart swell (and other things, too.)

She called last night; had a nice dinner with Todd, did some studying.

Innocent.

Mostly.

She said Todd's a hugger.

He saw her scraping some ice off her car yesterday (from these Dallas storms) and came out and helped her. How chivalrous of him to help the love of my life.

And he gave her a hug.

I guess he's a hugger. Funny, cause Emily is a hugger, too.

So yes, I fell asleep imagining Emily in the embrace of some guy. In Dallas. Hugging.

And what did she say before she said she loved me and goodnight?

"It's been awhile since I've felt a man's arms around me."

And now it's Friday. The weekend.

And I'll be home alone. All weekend.

And she'll be down there, in Dallas, with the hugger.

And I want sooooo badly for her to come home and take this thing off me because I keep swelling because I keep thinking about her because she keeps teasing me and because she KNOWS that I'm suffering and because neither of us would have it any other way.

Todd, the hugger.

Dallas-It's only Thursday?

Okay, I'll admit I'm a tad more clingy than Emily is; I'm always missing her before she misses me.

Thus, I'm not too surprised that I miss her more than she misses me right now.

She's off, out of town, working her tail off, meeting new people, doing new things.

And stressed.

And I'm just home, regular routine, just without her.

Yea, and I'm in fucking chastity.

So, I'll just come out and say it.

I MISS THE FUCK OUT OF HER!

We only talked for about five minutes today; she was in between a meeting and going to dinner.

Tonight?

Todd.

The guy last night?

Meh, she said. He was boring.

Todd?

She found him more interesting.

"He's cuter, too, lover," she said.

YES, STILL MISS HER!

Todd.

Todd.

"Oh, Todd," I thought to myself.

But I let my mind wander and my locked up clit grow.

"Todd," I pictured her saying as he licked the inside of her arm. "Todd, Todd."

Okay, stop thinking, Sara, because it hurts!

Todd, Todd.

All that and she has not done a fucking thing with Todd or any other guy.

Nothing but tease me with them, that is.

"Did you dress pretty today," she asked me.

"Yea, duh."

"And you shed those ugly boy clothes the second you got home?"

"Yes, yes, you know I would, into a skirt and a blouse and heels and breast forms and a wig, the second I walked in the door."

"My pretty girl. Home all alone, all pretty. Well, I don't want to keep Todd waiting, lover."

"No, no you don't."

Todd. Todd.

Dallas-Missed Call

I heard my phone beep, the voice mail beep. I never heard it ring, though it must of, maybe when I was downstairs checking on the laundry (Emily left me a list of things to take care of when she's gone.)

I listened to the voice mail once, twice, three times:

 Hey, it's me, just calling to say hi, sorry I missed you. If you get this in the next couple of minutes, you can call me back, but I'm just about to head out to dinner. I got assigned my partner for our group thing on Friday and we thought we'd grab dinner and work on it for awhile tonight so...[sound in background]...hang on a second...sorry, back, Justin's at the door, he's my group partner's here so I have to run. I'll call you later, love. Oh, and yea, he's cute, so think about me...love you, sissy.

Yea, that's what I'll be thinking about all fucking night until she calls as I sit here and try NOT to think about it and ache down there.