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Subject: {ASSM} Chocolate RULES {Gary} (MF BD oral chocolate)
Date: Sun, 13 May 2001 01:10:04 -0400
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Chocolate RULES
Disclaimer: Under 18? Go away.
"Chocolate RULES"
by Gary (MF BD oral chocolate)
Copyright 2001
Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store."
This statement, uttered in bed, generally indicated some sort of
feminine hygiene emergency, and the one who 'needs to go to the
store' is generally me. It is a law of nature that the gender which
does not use or need a product, or is most likely embarrassed by
its purchase (I am long over that, at least), is the gender which
must buy it.
"What do you need?" It wouldn't embarrass me. I'd get her to be
specific; plugs or pads, regular or maxi, normal or super-
absorbent, scented or unscented, wings or strings. My last SO used
to rip the end off the last box and hand it to me. It's harder to
screw that up and nothing to explain.
"There is no chocolate in the house." This was delivered in an
aggrieved tone. It must be my fault (if true, which it was not.)
She was a chocoholic, and that involved rule 9: "Q. Why is there no
such organization as Chocoholics Anonymous? A. Because no one wants
to quit."
"That turns out not to be the case," I replied. I'd read in some
Heinlein novel, or maybe a Tom Clancy, that this was the correct
way to say "Wrong!" politely. I knew The Rules. I also knew where
all of the secret stashes were.
"Would you care to make a little wager on that?" She had that
single eyebrow raised. She watched too much classic Star Trek. But
she bet like Riker - she seldom lost. Maybe she knew where all the
secret stashes were, too.
"What stakes?" Best I determine penalties before I commit too
rashly. Remember Rule 7: "Money talks. Chocolate sings."
"The winner gets to perform oral sex on the loser."
"That's a win-win situation," I laughed. "I could just forfeit
right now. What's the catch?" There had to be a catch.
"The loser is bound, gagged, and blindfolded. The winner decides
when to quit."
My heart almost stopped. This type of thing had been discussed
early in our relationship and rejected, not by me. I figured there
were trust issues, and planned to bring it up again at some later
date. Apparently, today was some later date. Either that or she was
extremely confident about the absence of chocolate.
She was plainly waiting for my response. I was plainly stalling
for time, reviewing the locations of the aforementioned caches in
my mind. Some were fairly ingenious, if I do say so, while others
were decoys to distract from the real stashes. At least one of
these stashes had to have survived her curiosity.
"Deal. Any restrictions on this bet?"
"I go with you, to make sure you don't use the phone and arrange
for a delivery, or sneak outside for any reason."
"That's not fair - you'll know all my secrets." If you didn't
already, I added to myself.
"Too late for that. I already know all your secrets, and I want to
watch your face when you realize that. I won't be seeing your eyes
for a while after that. And there has to be a time limit, say
twenty minutes. Then the loser goes to the store and comes back to
be bound."
"Okay, you come with. Any restrictions on the penalty? Are we
talking oral only, or can other parts play?"
"Hmmm. Nope. Lips, tongue, teeth - and you better be carefull with
those, in the unlikely event you win. Nothing else."
"Agreed, with the same warning. Start the clock."
I jumped out of bed, taking a few seconds to put my boxers back
on. She stretched slowly before getting up, choosing to pad around
in the nude. An obvious ploy to distract me. Despite her chocolate
fetish, she remained slender. Rule 8: "Chocolate has many
preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger."
It would normally work, too, but I had a goal firmly in mind.
Another thing was firming, but I could ignore him for now. I lifted
the mattress. No Nestle Crunch Bars. Too obvious.
Next, I lifted the cap on the brass head rail and felt inside. Ah
ha! The tape still held the string in place. Grinning, I began to
lift the string from the tube. Instead of Kisses, the string held
only little tinfoil bow-ties. Now it was her turn to grin.
The nightstand drawer came all the way out. The Hershey bar
wrapper was still taped in place to the bottom, but the foil-
wrapped bar was gone. Likewise, the Heath bar wrapper was taped to
the back. I eliminated all other drawers from my list of hiding
places. Her grin widened.
In the bedroom closet, I patted the pockets of various coats,
stowed now until more appropriate weather. Jeanine had been there
first, but I expected that. I eliminated all similar locations in
the other bedrooms, based on the fact that if she found any one
type of location, she'd have checked all similar locations. Shoe
boxes were too obvious for me to bother.
In the master bathroom, there were no Turtles under the toilet
tank lid and no Rollos in the shower curtain rod. I wouldn't bother
with any other curtain rod in the house.
I had a lot of faith in rule 5: "If calories are an issue, store
your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are afraid of
heights, and they will jump out of the chocolate to protect
themselves." I needed the stepping stool and a screwdriver.
Her face was neutral when I set the stool under an air
conditioning vent and removed the plate. But that smug little grin
was back full force when my hands found nothing in the ductwork. So
much for the half-pound bags of M&Ms. I wasted a minute restoring
the plate.
Down the hallway past the Laundry Room. I wouldn't hide anything
there - any room with a dryer could only end up with a lot of
messy, gooey slime. The same applied to the closet containing the
water heater. Into the living room, then. Various CD jewel cases,
DVD cases and tape boxes in the entertainment center contained only
CD's, DVD's and tapes, plus an assortment of empty wrappers.
The bases of the lamps contained only wire and switches. Cushions
contained only foam. Upholstery was just that. The electric wall
clock had a new battery, but no Snickers - those came from Jeanine.
I was running out of time. To the kitchen I flew.
This was another shared domain. Breakfast is my meal, lunch is
hers, supper we shared. Nothing in the kitchen is sacrosanct;
therefore hiding places were few. I rotated the flour jar rather
than sifting through, and repeated with the sugar jar. No surprises
were hidden there, either, though I could hope. The paper towel
dispenser had been refilled with a new roll, so the Cadburys were
gone, too.
"Time?" I asked.
"Running out, slave," she replied. After a few seconds, she
started counting down from sixty.
I went through a mental checklist. What had I overlooked? What
might she have overlooked? The smile on her face as she passed
thirty was insufferably smug.
One last place, and there wasn't much chance she'd overlooked
that. Rule 12: "If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep
in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's
wrong with you?"
I opened the freezer door. The box was still there, Jolly Green's
Brussels Sprouts. I reached in. It was still heavy. I shook it. I
peeled back the flap opposite the one I'd glued back in place. I
looked in.
"Yes!" I held them out to her. Two Mars Bars, still in the baggy,
frozen solid. She hated Brussels sprouts. Ostensibly, they were
there for visits from my brother and my sister-in-law, who loved
them. Fifteen seconds to spare.
The look on Jeanine's face was beyond priceless. She'd found all
of my best hiding places and cleaned out every one. She was so
confident. She had made the bet with every confidence of winning.
Now she was a deer caught in the headlights.
I plucked the baggy from her fingers and took the hand in mine,
leading her down the hallway to the bedroom. She moved as if dazed,
trying to come to terms with the bet.
"We'll forego the trip to the store for now," I told her. "Rule 3
would just get in the way." Rule 3: "The problem: How to get 2
pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution:
Eat it in the parking lot."
"First, the blindfold," I announced. From the medicine cabinet, I
retrieved two gauze pads and the Ace wrap. I wished I owned
something black and silk, but these would be more than adequate. I
had Jeanine sit on the edge of the bed while I applied them,
securing the wrap with the clips that came with it.
"Second, the bindings," I said. But what to use? For her hands, I
used the belt from my terrycloth bathrobe. I put a loop in either
end, slipped one over her left wrist, up through the brass bars of
the head rail, and over her right wrist, positioning her in the
center of the bed.
The loops were not slip-knots. If she felt she needed to, she
could remove her hand from the loop. As she realized this, she
relaxed slightly.
I needed something longer for her feet. The only thing I owned
(other than strings of Christmas lights) which would serve was an
orange fifty-foot heavy-duty extension cord. While I retrieved
that, I considered the gag. I had just the thing.
I unwrapped the Mars bars and re-wrapped them in the panties she
had worn until about two hours ago. I shoved this down the leg of a
nylon stocking. Next, I wrapped a cotton tee shirt around each
ankle and tied either end of the extension cord around the tee-
shirts. These knots would not easily come undone.
I applied the gag next, making sure the candy bars were centered
between her lips. Frozen, wrapped in cotton panties, they'd give no
hint of flavor. That would change.
Finally, I looped the extension cord around the outside post at
each end of the head-rail and drew out slack until her toes were
pointed at those posts. She was bent almost double and spread wide.
I know this surprised her - she probably expected her legs to be
tied to the foot-rail. Each of her hands grasped a bar of the head-
rail, there was enough slack and her elbows were bent. I tied off
the excess around one end post.
I sat on the right side of the bed. "Comfy?" She shook her head.
"Does anything hurt?" She shook her head again, slower. "Ready to
begin?" No head motion. I leaned over and gently flicked a nipple
with my tongue. Her whole body tensed. "Ready to begin?" I asked
again. This time, there was a single, barely noticeable nod.
I repositioned myself near the end of the bed, kneeling behind her
upturned ass. Her outer lips were parted, exposing the inner
petals. A faint sheen of moisture betrayed the beginning of
arousal. I didn't move right away, figuring anticipation might
increase the arousal.
She knew I was there. She squirmed deliciously for several
minutes, expecting first contact. I was patience incarnate.
Finally, the squirming stopped, and she relaxed a little. Perhaps
she thought I'd left the room, that she'd been mistaken in thinking
I was on the bed. At that point, I bent and licked, from asshole to
clit, then pulled back to blow lightly over the same path.
She jumped as though shocked, inhaling sharply around the gag.
Goose bumps appeared everywhere. The squirming resumed, as did my
waiting.
I did the shampoo thing - lather, rinse, repeat. Same actions,
waiting for a hint of relaxation before repeating. Soon enough,
there was no relaxing, just tense anticipation accompanied by
mewling around the gag. I switched to continuous mode, licking
deeper and harder, swirling around her clit at the end of each
stroke instead of touching. Jeanine bucked and twisted to the
limits of her bonds, trying to position herself for maximum effect.
I lifted my head to see what was happening at the other end of the
bed, a move accompanied by a very frustrated groan. Jeanine had, by
this time, nearly bitten through her gag. The Mars bars had
apparently thawed, she'd bitten into them through the nylon and
cotton. Her lips, cheeks, the nylon and the cotton were all part of
a sticky brown mess. I think I created a new dish - little death by
chocolate.
I returned to her crotch, this time planting my lips around her
button, and alternated sucking with little tongue flicks. I'm told
that I'm very good at button pushing - the sight and feel of a
powerful orgasm rewarded me. I kept up the pressure until it began
to subside, three minutes, I think. Jeanine went very, very limp. I
looked down. Sometime during her cum, I had too.
I felt guilty and happy, a confusing sensation. Happy that she'd
cum, guilty - well, she'd turned down bondage before, and though
she had made it part of the bet, she did it in expectation of
winning. I decided to relent, at least slightly.
I untied her legs, gently lowering them to the bed. At the head-
rail I removed the loops from her wrists, taking each hand and
placing it on a brass bar with the words "hold on to this. Don't
let go."
On each side, I licked the chocolate and saliva drool from her
cheeks. She shivered. I whispered, "I hereby declare the bet
satisfied. Do you want me to remove the blindfold and gag?" Her
head lolled to face me, but no sound save her breath, no other
motion followed. I was ever patient. Finally, a small nod.
As gently as I could, I lifted her head and unwrapped the
bandages. Before I removed the gauze, I turned off the overhead
light. Plenty of light came through the blinds and curtain. When I
lifted the gauze, she blinked rapidly and squinted anyway.
Lifting her head again, I tried to untie the knot in the nylons.
Having no luck, I found the surgical scissors in the medicine
cabinet and finished the job her teeth had started. I removed the
sodden mess from her mouth and she worked her jaw to relieve her
stiffness there.
After laying the soggy mess on the Ace wrap on the nightstand, I
lay beside her on the bed. Strangely, she still gripped the brass
bars of the head-rail. I snuggled in close and kissed her. She
still tasted of chocolate.
When we broke the kiss, she lay back and looked up.
"Bastard," she said softly.
"Me? Why?" I asked, slightly surprised and a little scared.
"You enjoyed that."
"Well, yes. I guess I did. Look, it isn't something we have to..."
"So did I," she interrupted.
"Then why am I a bastard if..."
"You ruined a perfectly good candy bar." Jeanine had her
priorities. Chocoholics do, you know.
"Two. Two perfectly good Mars chocolate bars." I just had to let
her know the extent of my perfidy.
"Bastard." At least this time she was smiling.
I carefully removed her hands from the bars and rolled her on her
side. She was still limp as I snuggled in closer. I, for one, was
content just to hold her, spoon-style.
Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store."
The RULES of chocolate
courtesy of http://www.virtualchocolate.com
by way of Denny, the Curmudgeonly Editor
1. If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're
eating it too slowly.
2. Chocolate covered raisins, cherries, orange slices &
strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.
3. The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the
store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.
4. Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the
edge off your appetite and you'll eat less.
5. If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the
fridge.Calories are afraid of heights, and they will jump out of
the chocolate to protect themselves.
6. If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate,
is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract each other?
7. Money talks. Chocolate sings.
8. Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look
younger.
9. Q. Why is there no such organization as Chocoholics Anonymous?
A. Because no one wants to quit.
10. Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do
today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.
11. A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake
of calories in one place. Isn't that handy?
12. If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the
freezer.But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with
you?
Copyright 2001 by Gary. All rights reserved.
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