I Don't Trust Myself

I Don't Trust Myself

A brand-new m/f male chastity romance :) Expect lots of heavy teasing and boundary talk. All involved characters are enthusiastically consenting and, of course, over 18. Enjoy!

***

"Hi! Come on in."

The customer's name was Mika, according to the work form. She turned out to be a woman about my age, with bouncy bobbed hair and a bubbly smile. She was dressed in a baggy t-shirt with an obscure cartoon character on it that had been my favorite as a kid. It was long enough that I wasn't sure until she turned to lead me inside that she was wearing shorts underneath.

I trained my eyes upward, to the back of her head, as we walked.

"Coffee? Water?" she asked.

"Coffee would be great," I said, and took a seat at the kitchen table where she directed me.

I pulled up the visit checklist on my tablet.

"Okay, so, we're running a new cable to the router today, right?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what has to happen," she said, sliding into the chair across from me and setting two mugs and a bottle of creamer between us. "The guys renovating the apartment downstairs swear they didn't touch anything, but one second the internet's working fine, and the next, crash, it's gone."

"That sucks," I said. "But it's an easy fix. I'll run a direct line right over the balcony, so it doesn't have to go through your neighbors' units at all."

"Sounds good to me," she said.

"Cool. Before I get started on that, I have to run diagnostics on the dead line. It's not that I don't believe you--"

"Oh, I know, you've got protocols to follow. Go ahead. It's next to the TV."

I got up to connect my monitor to the physical hardware, tried connecting wirelessly with my tablet, and set both scans to run on the completely nonexistent internet connection.

"While that's doing its thing," I took my seat again and savored a sip of the coffee, "is this a good time to go over some of the other questions I'm required to ask?"

"Shoot," said Mika, pouring a shot of the vanilla creamer into her own mug.

"Cool. Who handles your cell phone service?"

"The other guy," she answered.

"May I ask why you chose separate companies for phone and internet?"

"Because the other guy doesn't cover this building for internet," she said, just as bluntly. "I've been with their phone service since I was on my parents' plan."

"So, you haven't had any experience with our service on that end?"

"Nope."

"Well, if you're bundling internet and phone together, there's a good chance I can get you a better deal for basically the same service, same phone number and everything."

This was where most customers, even the politest ones, shut me down. The rapport between us was never quite the same after this step. I'd switched from the guy who was here to solve their problem to the guy who was here to upsell them. And they had to be more on guard for that guy.

I acted the same when I was dealing with salespeople from the other side. It was the ugly dance we had to do.

Mika blew on her mug and said, "Is it actually a better deal, or does it just look that way before you add all the fees and stuff?"

I quickly swiped away from the diagnostic screen and brought up my bill calculator.

"Here, I'll just run the numbers and give it to you straight," I said. "No surprises, promise."

Mika listened attentively, with mild interest, even, while I walked her through the math, and went hunting through her bills to compare.

I decided to get the next usual sticking point over with.

"I can get you all set up today if you want... it'll just take a couple extra hours on top of the repair."

Mika paused, neatened the pile of bills she'd been sorting through, and dropped them near the edge of the table.

"Let's do it," she said.

"You sure?" I asked.

No one was ever quite this ready to change their wireless carrier on a day when they hadn't been planning to, even when the deal was great. Maybe especially when the deal was great, and therefore harder to trust.

Mika stretched her arms over her head, making her shoulders click, and I became aware that she was not wearing a bra. The thick fabric of the shirt didn't show much, but it pulled tight enough with this movement for me to make out two soft, natural, uncontained mounds, with the small prick of a resting nipple at the peak of each one.

"I shouldn't tell you this," she said. "I'm only going to get taken advantage of. But you could probably sell me a fucking landline today, if it came with a couple extra hours of company."

"... Oh," I said, not sure how I was supposed to respond to this.

I knew how I would have responded, once, but things were different now.

"Are you... doing okay?" I asked.

Mika shrugged and shook out her shoulders, a clear, silent translation of, It's a long story.

"I don't know. I just... I moved out here for a job last year, and it's been really hard. Who knew social work would be hard, right?" she chuckled at herself. "I mean, it's good, too, sometimes. I love getting to help people out. But I'm so tired at the end of the day, I never feel like going for drinks or anything, and it's just been really hard to get out and make friends. And now I'm not going to be able to fly home for my birthday like I was planning, and.... I don't remember the last time I spoke to a human being on my day off."

She shook her head.

"Sorry. I know it's not a day off for you. You're just here to fix the wi-fi."

"No, no, it's okay," I told her, reflexively. "Hanging out is half the job, really. It can be awkward, being stuck with a stranger in your living room all day. I like to know that I'm making it as good an experience as it can be."

Mika smiled, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and laid her hand on the table between us.

"Well, in that case," she said, "you're doing an amazing job so far."

I knew the next move in this dance.

I was supposed to reach slowly across the table, to see if she would move away, which she wouldn't. I would put my hand on top of hers, gently squeeze it in a way that could be mistaken for an innocent gesture of comfort.

She would lick her lips and look at mine. I would lean a little closer. She would meet me in the middle.

There would be a long moment of contact, softness, shy tongues, warm breath. We'd drag it out as long as we possibly could, savoring it as if it might be the only moment of its kind, and putting off the dicey next moment of looking each other in the eye.

Then I'd tell her how much longer we needed to wait around for the diagnostics anyway, tacking on a few more minutes than the truth, and she would either make a suggestion for how we could pass the time, or coyly ask me for one.

I looked down, took a sip of my coffee, and asked, "Could I use your restroom?"

Mika pulled her hand back to her side of the table, searching me for meaning with a precision that made me feel already naked. "Sure, of course. Just across the hall."

I half-sprinted back through her living room and across the hall, and locked the bathroom door behind me. I gripped the sides of the sink and gulped in several deep breaths.

I'd done it. I'd said no.

Well, kind of. I hadn't actually said anything yet. But every self-help book and YouTube video I'd consulted had drilled in the importance of celebrating small victories.

I was doing it. The right thing. So far.

God, why did the right thing feel so wrong in my body? Why couldn't my instincts just be good?

I felt shaky, horny past the point of fun, almost sick.

And it wasn't just my body that was shuddering. I felt so... rude. What if Mika thought she'd done something wrong? What if I was hurting her feelings, when she was already obviously going through a tough time?

How much more hurt would you cause by saying yes?

Huh. At least one vocal fragment of my brain seemed to be on my side.

Another victory to celebrate.

I took another breath and practiced a few versions of "Hey!" in the mirror to make sure my voice was steady.

Then I pulled out my phone and called my girlfriend.

Four rings crept by. Then,

"Hey, you."

Haley was whispering, close to the microphone.

"Hey," I said, sounding normal enough to my own ears, but not to hers.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally," I said. "Sorry to bug you at work."

"You never bug me," she said. "But I do have to get back soon."

"I know. Sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice for a sec."

"Aww."

"And let you know that I'm going to have to take off early here."

"Again?" she asked, with grave, gentle concern. "Is your stomach acting up again?"

"... Yeah."

I couldn't find my way out of that old lie, not at such short notice.

"Do you still want to come over tonight?" she asked. "I'll pick up chicken soup. We'll do a Marvel marathon."

A mad, self-destructive cluster of neurons wished viciously for her to be less nice to me.

"Yeah, I'll be there," I said.

"Okay. Well, I'm hiding in a supply closet, so...."

"Yeah, I'm hiding in a customer's bathroom. So.... I love you."

"Love you, too."

And then I was alone again, surrounded by Mika's towels and preferred shower products.

#

I made my excuses to Mika and my boss.

Both were excruciating.

Mika kept apologizing and asking if she'd made me uncomfortable, and my boss went on for fifteen solid minutes about how he was counting on me not to throw perfectly good sales out the window, and how I needed to learn to gut it out or see a doctor.

I promised it wouldn't happen again, and I meant it. One way or another, I meant to put a stop to this, starting tonight.

I went home, ate most of a pint of ice cream, and finally worked up the nerve to dig through the bottom drawer of my dresser for the box at the very back.

I'd bought it months ago but never opened it.

There was always some excuse or another:

I was getting better.

I had a lot on my plate this week, too much to throw in an experimental factor.

It was a ridiculous idea in the first place, better left forgotten.

But at this point, I was ready to try a ridiculous idea over no idea at all.

#

I waited as long as I could, but still got to Haley's place ahead of her.

When she finally got home, she met me at my car, kissed me too tenderly, and put her arm around my waist to walk me up to her apartment, like I might collapse halfway there.

She glanced a few times at the plain, palm-sized brown box under my other arm along the way.

She probably thought it was a gift for her. And, well, I could always hope she'd still see it that way once she knew what was inside, but.... No. I was probably just being disappointing again.

"Here, let me get you a blanket," said Haley, delivering me to the couch.

"The temperature's fine in here," I said.

"Just in case."

I held tight to her hand. "I'm not sick." She turned to look at me, worried and waiting for some kind of explanation, so I hurried to add, "Not that kind of sick, anyway."

She let me tug her down into the seat next to me, without taking her eyes off of me.

"What's going on, Spence?"

Her seriousness was almost as bad as her niceness.

"I love you," I said, and something in my tone prevented this from putting her at ease. "I've never felt this way about anyone else. I will do fucking anything to make this work. And I have something to tell you."

She waited. The suspense on her face was killing me.

So, I laid it all out, as plainly and thoroughly as I could. I told her what had happened at Mika's place. And at the places of a number of other lonely women customers. And at the bar I went to every couple of weeks with a few of my work friends.

I told her about how I'd destroyed every relationship of my high school and college years, always by letting my attention wander to someone new.

I told her about how I'd thought I just wasn't ready or cut out for monogamy, or hadn't met the right person. How I'd decided to just be honest about that, keep things always casual, so I wouldn't let anyone down.

Until I'd met her.

There was no question, this was it. I loved Haley. I wanted a life with her.

But even so, it had been so much harder than I'd thought it'd be, learning to say no, after living my whole adult life saying yes every time.

Haley's face got more and more serious. When I ran out of words, it took her a while to add any of her own.

"So, what does that mean?" she asked. "Are you trying to ask me for an open relationship? Because I don't think that's what I want."

"No!" I said. "No, that's the thing, I don't think that's actually what I want, either. I'm not looking to fall in love with anyone but you. And I don't care about having random casual sex."

"It seems like you do," she said. Her arms were crossed. Guarded.

"No. Listen. Please. Even if you said it was fine, and I believed you.... Even if I knew it wouldn't hurt anyone... I don't like the power this thing has over me. It would be one thing if I loved casual sex. But I don't-- I mean, I have, sometimes. Sometimes it's good. But mostly... mostly, it's like I feel this weird obligation to take every offer. Like it might be the last chance I ever get. Or the only chance. It's like, no matter how many fucking notches I've got in my belt--"

"Gross," said Haley.

"I know. Sorry. I didn't rehearse this. But I'm saying, it's like no matter how many times I prove otherwise, a piece of me is still the virgin who thinks he's going to die that way, and he'll do anything to stop it. He doesn't care if it's good or bad or meh, just so long as it counts. But something's broken, because it never stops."

Haley sighed and slowly nodded. "So... what do we do?"

"Well, now, here's where I have a kind of out-there idea...."

I picked up the box, and on impulse, I slipped off the couch onto my knees. I turned it toward her and opened the lid as dramatically as I could, given that it was cardboard and still stuck together with packing tape.

Haley reached in and pulled out the little wire cage inside.

I couldn't tell by the look on her face whether she'd ever seen a chastity device before, but if not, she was quickly piecing together what it was for from the shape of it.

"Are you being serious right now?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Dead serious," I said. "I want you to lock me up and only let me out when we're together."

Haley set the cage down on the coffee table and laced fingers together.

"I... I don't want the only reason you're not cheating on me to be because you can't. If you're not choosing to be faithful, what is that even worth?"

"This is me choosing it," I said, reaching for her hands. She let me hold them, and I gripped them tight.

I could feel myself beginning to hyperventilate, and I tried to force deep breaths down my throat while collecting the words.

"I'm choosing to quit casual sex, and it's like... it's like quitting drinking, I think, when you realize you're not the kind of person who can have a healthy relationship with it. And I'm asking you to be, like, my sponsor. And this," I put my hand on the cage, "it's like... like nicotine gum."

"You're mixing your metaphors," said Haley.

"Yeah, I see that," I said. "But what I'm saying is, does it matter what it takes for me to do this, as long as I choose to do it? Can you still love me if I take methadone, instead of going cold turkey?"

"Of course I love you," Haley said instantly.

"Well, that's something," I said, feeling the fragile warmth in my chest rise up to my face.

Haley let out a breath of a laugh, leaned forward, and kissed me, slow and soft.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked, resting her forehead on mine.

"Yes," I said. "Even if you say no, even if you leave me, I'm doing this. I'll put it on and leave the key at home. But I'd much rather know that you have it."

"Okay, then," said Haley, nodding more decisively. "Let's do it."

She sat back and looked at me.

It took me a moment to realize that she was waiting for me to undress.

"Oh, now? Now is good," I said, and got up to unfasten my pants.

Haley scooted closer on the couch and turned the cage over a few times in her hands, figuring out the moving parts.

I stood there for a long moment, completely exposed in front of her.

Finally, she reached out, grasped my scrotum, and then got very still. A motion that had started brusque and practical suddenly turned intimate. She looked up at me and held my gaze, with the faint beginning of a smile, while she slid the wire cage over my cock.

"A perfect fit," she said, with a soft breath.

"Well, it was until a couple seconds ago," I admitted, feeling myself already straining against the tight space, just from the warmth of her hand on the other side of the bars and the intensity of her eyes on me.

She had to glance down at her hands a few times, to fit the latches in place around my shaft and scrotum, but somehow, even in those brief few moments, I felt wrapped up in her attention.

"It's so... real," she said, threading the padlock through the loops. "I mean, I guess it has to be, right?" She clicked it shut and held the key up between us. "It's just kind of freaky to think... you're really not going to be able to open it without this."

"It wouldn't be much use if I could," I said.

But I could feel the weight of it too, deep in the pit of my stomach.

She took hold of the cage and gave it a gentle tug, eyes widening a little as she felt how securely it actually fit.

"So, this is you now?" she asked. "Under your clothes every day. In bed alone at night? All the time?"

"All the time," I said, "except when we're doing stuff together."

A slow smile spread over her face. "So, should I let you back out now?"

I'd really been hoping to last at least a couple hours, just to prove to myself that I'd be okay like this while the key was still nearby, but having Haley put this on me had been way more of a turn on than I could ever have been prepared for.

"God, yes. Please."

Haley laughed as she turned the key in the padlock and hurried to undo all the work she'd just done fitting the catches into place. I reached for her t-shirt and could barely wait for her hands to be free to pull it off of her.

I unfastened her bra, pulled down her jeans, and pushed her flat onto the couch.

I ran my teeth along the soft skin of her neck and twisted my fingers into her silky blonde hair. I kissed her nipples and sucked, filling my mouth with the softness of her breasts. I wrapped my arms around her muscular, tapered waist, clutched her ass with both my hands, and pressed my thigh to her pussy until I felt her moisture spread onto my skin. Every part of her was sensory bliss. I wanted to devour her.

I backed up onto my knees and pressed the length of my tongue to her slit. I slid the tip slowly along her opening, up to her clit, making her gasp and grip the side of the couch.

"Mm, I'm starting to think I might like you this way," she sighed.

"That was only a couple seconds locked away," I murmured against her folds.

"Are you saying that has nothing to do with the sudden enthusiasm?" she asked.

"No," I acknowledged. "That was crazy hot, you closing and opening it for me."

"Are you sure that isn't what you had in mind all along?" she asked, pulling my hand to her mouth and nipping at my wrist.

"Oh, I wish," I said. "I wish I actually could trust myself. But whatever's going on now... bonus, right?"

"So far so good," said Haley.

I lapped at her, holding her hips hard as they twisted and trembled in my hands.

I pressed my palm to her whole pussy while I kissed my way up her abs, back to her breasts, keeping up the pressure until I could line up my cock with her opening.

"I'm the only one who gets this from now on?"

I loved the light brightening behind her eyes as she asked this.

"You know you are," I said, sinking my way into her.

"Just me," she said. "Not even your hand?"

"I guess not," I said. "Not for a while, at least, unless you decide you want to watch."

The thought was making my knees shake. I drove into her at a frenzied, uncontrollable pace.

Haley moaned and dug her nails into my shoulders.

"Harder," I blurted out, as uncontrolled as my movements.

"Really?"

"Harder."

She dragged her nails down my back, carving bright streaks of pain across my skin. The sting of it crackled down to my pelvis, sharpening every other sensation.

"Good?" she asked, barely able to get the words out through her gasps.

"Fucking incredible."

Her nails took another course halfway down my back and then paused to dig in deeper, while she cried out and shook all over.

I tried to just savor Haley's climax, but I couldn't stop myself. I kept thrusting right through it, following the rushing tightening inside me, until I erupted right with her, maybe harder than I ever had before.

Haley didn't seem to mind. Her moans only got louder, her nails deeper in my back.

"Oh my god," she sighed shakily. "Oh my god, that... that was ridiculous."

"That's one word, I guess," I laughed, lightheaded, light throughout my whole body.

"Give me a break, I just came," said Haley. "So, when do we put that thing back on you?"

"I feel like I should be a little scared of how excited you are for that."

"But instead?" Haley prompted.

"I'm a little scared... and a lot relieved," I said.

"That I don't hate it?" she asked.

I nodded.

She lifted her chin to kiss me.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I guess I really don't."

#

The first day was hard.

There wasn't even an opportunity for the cage to protect me from. I spent most of the day teaching an elderly man how to use his cable remote.

He was nice, full of wild stories about his years working in an emergency room, and kept serving me slices of lemon cake like he was dealing from a deck of cards.

It would have been a pretty chill day at work, but every time I shifted in my chair, I remembered all over again what I was wearing, and had the brightest flashes of fantasy about the moment when I'd feel Haley's hands around me, pushing that key back into the lock. It was kind of fun, but also bizarre and unsettling, getting hot and cold chills up and down my spine in this sweet old stranger's living room.

The day felt a week long, and when I finally, finally got back to Haley's place, my hands were shaking to touch her.

The door open, and I barreled in like a madman, pressing my hands to the nape of her neck and the small of her back to pull as much of her against me as possible.

"Mmm, yup, still loving this," she said, in bits and pieces, because I couldn't keep my lips off of hers.

"Feel free to get spoiled," I said. "I'm going to stay crazy for you."

"Aww," she brushed her fingers across my cheek. "Frustrating day? Lots of flirting with women who can't have you?"

"No, actually," I said. "I was just thinking about you the whole time."

"Huh."

Her tone wasn't quite what I would have expected.

"Are you... disappointed?" I asked.

Haley shrugged and pulled away to head for the bed. I stayed less than half a step behind her.

"I don't know, I just kept thinking about it today," she said, stretching out on her back on the covers.

I climbed up beside her and pulled her onto her side, stroking her chest and pressing my caged bulge against her ass, like a reminder.

"All day at work, I kept thinking, 'Who's he alone with? Does she want him? Is that lock I clicked shut holding him in check right now?'"

"You were thinking that... in a good way?" I asked, kissing the back of her shoulder.

Haley laid her arm over her eyes, wincing at what she was about to say.

"Good enough that I got myself off in the office bathroom on my lunch break."

Sensation bubbled up through me, fierce and alive. Laughter, lust, a spicy hint of jealousy. "Really?"

Haley nodded against her arm, her face bright pink underneath.

"You like being the one who keeps me in check?" I asked, teasing one of her nipples.

"Is that awful?"

"No," I said. "I like it."

I rubbed my cage harder against her.

"You can barely wait to get that off, can't you?" she said, sounding utterly delighted.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked.

"I'll go get it," she said.

I forced myself to let go of her long enough for her to go digging through the drawer under her bed for the key to free me.

It took several seconds for her to ease the cage off of me, and as soon as she did, she leaned down and took me deep in her mouth. I was hard by the time I touched the back of her throat.

I'd had so many other plans for what I was going to do with my cock when I got the chance, but I'd already exhausted every last bit of strength I'd had for pushing her away. If she wanted to suck on me, I was going to lie here and take it for as long as it lasted.

Her tongue worked me with merciless perfection, soft and firm and slick in just the right ratio, and almost embarrassingly soon, I seized up and unloaded down her throat, with my head turned to grunt into her bedspread without a trace of dignity.

She gently slid her lips off of me and crawled up to rest under my arm.

"Tell me what to do for you," I said, having no trouble at all staying in the moment, remembering that this was not yet over.

I was basking, glowing, floating in pleasure, and yet I could already feel the tingling twinges of my cock trying to harden again, hurrying to stockpile satisfaction while it could.

"Well, actually, if you'd be up for it..." Haley began, fidgeting the fingers of one hand through her silky, disheveled hair.

"Anything," I said, rolling onto my side and shuffling my way down her body, to kiss the crease of her hip.

"No, hear what it is first," she said.

I looked up, gathering all the seriousness my body was capable of.

"I'd like to watch you," she said.

"Give me ten minutes," I said, reaching down to hold my softened yet distinctly twitchy cock. "And the show will begin."

"I'd like to watch you flirt with other women," she said.

I found a little more seriousness, stowed away in the corners of myself. "You would?"

"You don't have to," she emphasized. "I know that's where the, you know, issues are. If it's too complicated or painful, I get it. But if you think it sounds like fun, I think it'd be really hot to kind of change that flirting habit from your secret into our secret. Something that pushes us together instead of apart?"

I took that in for a moment. It felt strange, but I couldn't find a single part of it that sounded bad.

"Hand me my pants."

#

I parked outside one of my favorite clubs from my single days. Dark but comfortable. A decent dance floor, but not too loud to talk. A house cocktail menu that was actually good, which made it a lot easier to send someone a friendly drink without having to learn every secret meaning and stereotype attached to the classics that were served everywhere.

Haley kissed my cheek, gave my thigh a playful squeeze, and headed inside.

I watched her go, half hypnotized by the sway of her slinky red cocktail dress, and counted five minutes after she'd disappeared inside before following her.

It was a pretty good evening for a weekday, plenty of people on the dance floor, a fair few gathered around the bar, but not so many that there was no space to slip between them. The thump of the music in my chest and the faint fragrance of fried snacks and sweet mixers stirred anticipation in my chest. That feeling was left over from a different time, when I would have been here for a different purpose, but it did not disperse at all when I reminded myself of the hunk of unyielding metal under my jeans.

I scanned the room, quickly locating Haley at one of the tall, round tables near the edge of the dance loor. She'd have a perfect view of anything I did here.

I tried to keep my face neutral, like she was just one body among hundreds, instead of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my life.

Thankfully, no one was yet watching me closely enough to judge whether I was pulling it off.

The rest of the scan came as easily as breathing. This was something I'd done a million times before. I zeroed in right away on a woman who was putting on quite the show on the dance floor.

She was wearing a sparkling silver minidress that fell just barely past the round curve of her ass, twirling and gyrating and waving her arms in dramatic arcs above her head. By her motions, it was clear that she was pleasantly tipsy, but far from sloppy drunk.

None of this guaranteed that she was looking for a hookup. Sometimes you just want to dress up and dance. I get that. But the way she was strategically mingling through the crowd, making eye contact and tossing her hair at a different man every verse or two, and then moving on when it became clear that they were already partnered up, made me willing to lay high odds on her intentions.

I stepped out onto the floor and maneuvered myself into her path.

She flicked her eyes over my body, lingering like most people did on the edge of my jaw -- definitely one of my more popular features.

Then she smiled and gave me that hair-toss, wafting the sweet scent of coconut in my direction.

I moved in a little closer and swiveled my hips in time with hers, tentatively dancing with her rather than just near her, without touching her.

She held out a hand to invite me to change that, and I took it.

Within a song, her arms were around my neck. Our legs intertwined, and the dance became a precarious feat of staying upright, through motions better performed against a bed or wall.

In spite of my orgasm not an hour earlier, I could feel my cock straining to expand against its cage.

I worried for a moment that this stranger grinding against my knee would be able to feel the metal, but if she did, no recognition showed on her face. My jeans must have been thick enough to make one kind of hardness inside them feel much like another.

The opportunities didn't come often, but I snuck a few glances at Haley over my dance partner's shoulder.

Haley was sipping a colorful drink with a sprig of lavender in it, watching me over the rim with a blistering but unhurried fire in her eyes.

"Want to take a breather?" the woman in silver said near my ear.

I let her lead me to the bar, where she ordered wine. I asked for the same and put down my card before she could.

Hearing her voice was already making the inevitability of disappointing her feel unnervingly real. I didn't need to make it harder on myself by letting her spend money on a gamble I already knew beyond doubt was a bust for her.

"So..." she drummed her fingers on the bar and brushed her hair behind one ear. "What are you into?"

"Weird shit, apparently," I blurted out. "Sorry in advance."

"Ooh, what kind of weird shit?" she asked with what sounded like genuine interest, and only a little bit of nervousness.

"Nothing serious, and nothing dangerous," I said. "At least, not to anyone else."

"That's a good start," the woman said, and then watched me, clearly waiting for more.

I felt Haley's eyes on me and couldn't help smiling. "It might not be what you're expecting."

"Well. That sounds distinctly not boring," she said, rubbing her hands together. "Come on, give me a hint."

God, I wanted to take that invitation to be closer to her, if only for a minute, or an hour. I wanted to give her what she wanted and feel the warmth of her approval in my chest.

The bartender brought the wine, and I offered a silent toast, brushing her fingers with mine when our glasses touched.

"Do you like feeling desirable, and a little bit naughty?" I asked.

She smiled and sipped her wine. "Depends. Are you looking for someone to dress up and spank?"

"Not exactly," I said. "I'm looking for someone to drive my girlfriend wild with jealousy. Consensually. Do you think you could-- no, obviously you could. But would you want to?"

Her smile went in and out for a few seconds as she thought this over.

"Girlfriend, huh?" She tapped her fingers against her wineglass. "She's not going to try to beat me up, is she?"

I shook my head. "Nah, never. I mean, I'll be honest, this whole thing is kind of new. But no, she'd never do that."

"Is she here, right now?" she asked.

"I mean, don't look now," I said, leaning in closer. "Red dress."

She subtly scanned the mirror behind the bar. Her eyebrows lifted, and she let out a low whistle.

"I'm supposed to make her jealous?" she said.

"Have you seen yourself?" I asked.

She looked like she got a lot of practice adding grains of salt to incoming compliments.

"Besides," I added, "It doesn't matter how you look. Just the idea will get under her skin."

"Oh, I think we can do better than an idea," she said, with a wicked grin. She leaned decisively forward, and kissed me.

My pulse exploded. It had been over a year since I'd felt a new pair of lips on mine, and somehow, I hadn't considered that that might happen tonight. Had I messed this up? Taken it too far?

The woman -- I didn't even know her name -- hopped down from her barstool and turned me on mine so that she could fit her leg between mine again. I took the opportunity to open my eyes and glance over her shoulder.

The look on Haley's face had not soured at all. It had changed only subtly, becoming sharper, hungrier.

I took it we were still on track.

The stranger pulled me to my feet and led me across the bar to one of the high-backed booths along the wall. The number of people who could see us if they cared to narrowed from the whole club to a small wedge of tables, with Haley smack in the middle.

The woman pushed me onto one of the bench seats and climbed in after me, on the same side of the table. Her lips were on mine again, moving with less restraint, as if we weren't in public view at all. Her hand wandered down my chest and brushed the bunched-up fabric of my crotch, bumping the cage.

I caught her wrist.

"Not that," I said, finding that I loved the next words as I pushed them out. "That belongs to her."

"Mmm, no sharing, huh?"

"Nope, not allowed," I said.

"What kind of 'not allowed'?" she purred near my ear. "Like, wouldn't that be such a hot rule to break, or, like--"

"Like for real not allowed," I laughed.

"Hmm, okay." She put her hand around my wrist, and I let go of hers. "How about this?" She pulled my hand to her thigh and slid it slowly upward, under the silver hem of her dress.

I stole another glance at Haley, and my confined cock throbbed at the fierce fascination in her eyes.

"Yeah," I said. "I think I can get away with that."

The woman pressed my fingers to her clit, through her thin, satin panties, and rocked her hips from side to side, grinding against them.

"What's the catch?" she asked.

"Oh, don't worry, she's coming," I said against her neck, between scandalous-feeling kisses.

"Not before I do," she said, her voice already breathless.

"We'll see."

She mounted my thigh, pinning my hand in between, and ground against me firmly as we made out.

The pressure between my legs was growing harder to ignore, almost painful, but I loved it, that solid, impenetrable barrier between fine and not fine. I loved the virtuous feeling of being locked away, safe from getting swept up in chasing my own pleasure, while this stranger used me in a dark club booth, knowing that she would give me nothing back.

Well, nothing except for gamely playing her role in Haley's and my game. That was a lot, really.

The woman was nearly on top of me, running her tongue along the inside of my teeth, biting at my neck and ears, pressing her thinly clothed pussy so hard against my fingers that I couldn't move them myself. She took every bit of friction at strictly her own pace.

It couldn't have been long before I felt her knees shaking around me, heard the quickening of her breath, that special rhythm at the edge of an orgasm.

A flash of red at the edge of my vision announced Haley's arrival.

She was sitting right across the booth from us now, watching silently. The stranger hadn't yet noticed her moving from her own table, but a few other patrons definitely had. People were shooting furtive glances at the three of us, trying to decode the obvious drama in progress without getting in its splash zone.

Haley and I met eyes. I inclined my head toward the stranger, sure that we were both noticing the pace of her soft moans. I raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly when she was going to put a stop to this.

Haley smiled magnanimously, imperiously, and allowed the woman straddling my leg to tip over the edge and release a sharp, satisfied cry, before getting up, grabbing her by the shoulder, and yanking her off of me.

"What's your problem?" the woman demanded, fake indignant, wobbling on still twitchy-looking legs.

"That," Haley snarled near her face, pointing at my crotch with intoxicating confidence, "is mine."

"Jeez, sorry." The woman shrugged. "Maybe you should let him know that."

"Oh, I don't have to," said Haley. "I'm the only one who can give him what he needs."

She shoved the woman, gently but dramatically, toward a cluster of spectators deeper in the club.

The woman glanced back over her shoulder, and tossed me a gratified wink as she went.

#

We didn't make it all the way back to Haley's place, only as far as her car.

"Lie down," she said, shoving me onto the back seat and climbing on top of me. "Since you're so eager to be on your back."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," I put on a contrite tone that was probably mostly ruined by my giddy smirk. "I couldn't help myself."

"Are you satisfied?" she asked.

"You know I'm not," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because I need you," I said.

"Do you, now?" Haley unhooked my belt, tugged down my pants, and blew on the cage, chilling the dripping moisture there.

"Yes, Haley," I said. "I need you, please."

"Now?"

"Yes, please, please, please."

She pulled the key from her pocket, fitted it into the lock, and very slowly turned it. She tugged the cage away with more difficulty than ever, letting my already swollen cock harden and grow to its full size.

She inched forward to straddle my hips and lowered herself onto me, enveloping me in tight, ready wetness.

"I'm the only person you get to feel this way with," she whispered.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," I said.

"Don't you forget that," she said, thrusting down against me.

"Never." I gasped. "Oh, fuck, I can't hold back."

"I know that," she said, teasing her fingers through my hair. "It's okay. When I want you to wait, I'll make you wait. Deal?"

"Dea-- oh... oh god!"

I groaned and felt myself thrash against the seat beneath her as I came.

"Enjoy," Haley whispered. "Shh, shh, enjoy while you can. Five minutes from now, you'll be back in that cage."

"Yes, please, Haley." I kissed her along the jaw. "I'm ready."

***

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