I arrived home, walking oddly due to the unusual weight in my
briefs. My wife met me at the door, frowning. “You’ve been playing
again, haven’t you? Let’s see it this time,” she commanded. I moved
from the exposed doorway to our living room and took my accustomed
place against the display wall. As she came into the room, I had
already unbuckled my belt and slid the leather out of the loops,
coiling it neatly on the floor by my shoes. I slid my pants down
around my ankles and carefully pulled the waistband of my Jockeys out
as far as possible, moving it down so as not to further damage the dull
brown sheath surrounding my penis. I struggled to keep my muscles
clenched so my cock would not droop, otherwise the tube would fall off.
She looked at my now-cracked chocolate condom and clucked her
tongue. “I have to admit, Roger, this marks some creativity on that
woman’s part. Although the time you came home with hickeys on your
nipples still stands out as some sort of achievement. Now what are we
going to do with you?”
I stood at attention as she inspected the thickness of the Hershey
coating. The touch of her nails along the bottom of my shaft and the
feel of her breath near my balls brought my erection back, making the
chocolate tube snug again.
“Well, I can see a few approaches to this,” she mused. “We could
cut it off, freeze it and shatter it, heat it until it melts, or put
whipped cream on it and lick it off.” I shuddered at the thought of
knives, ice, or matches near my private parts. She watched my reactions
play across my face, then leaned next to my ear. “I’d like to see you
work to keep it hard in an ice bath,” she murmured, “but I think I’ll
give you some of what you think you want.” With that she led me to the
work table and pushed me backward. I scooted back into my designated
position, lying supine with my arms and legs spread. She moved around
the table, fastening the nylon cuffs to my wrists and ankles, then
lightly tying the blindfold around my eyes before leaving me to
contemplate my position.
I heard her rattling around in the kitchen, and then her feet
padded softly back into the room. I concentrated on breathing slowly
as my anticipation increased. I knew how well she could read my face,
and her statement seemed to indicate that she was indeed going to lick
the chocolate off my needful cock. I jumped at the touch of her nails
crossing the light hair on my balls, and my shaft slapped dully against
my stomach. The next thing I felt was cold and wet as she slid an ice
cube between my bottom cheeks. I tried vainly to lift my ass off the
table enough to avoid the probe, even as my brain whirled in confusion.
I knew I hadn’t indicated wanting the ice treatment…
She removed the cube, not before swiping it across my balls and
then against my nipples. I shivered, from the cold as well as my
arousal. Silence held in the room for a few long minutes, then I did in
fact feel the caress of a tongue between my legs. A sharp tongue. In
fact, I knew the raspy feeling well — it was our cat! I well
remembered when she had spread me out and dripped honey on my nipples;
they were sore for a week.
I didn’t know that cats liked chocolate, but he settled down
between my thighs and lapped away, his tongue dragging against the base
of my shaft in a way that was both irritating and inflaming. I
clenched my ass muscles and tried to focus on statistical tables and
state capitals. I shouldn’t have forgotten my wife — she saw my
motion and slid another ice cube beneath me as encouragement. I
writhed as the cat bit off a small chunk of chocolate, his teeth
nipping me in the process.
I alternated for I don’t know how long between trying to lift my
ass away from the melting ice (which my wife kept replacing) and
jumping from the rasp of the cat’s tongue against my cock and the
pricking of its claws on my inner thighs. Somewhere in there, she
brought out the little padded clamps for my nipples. I was almost
grateful for the dull pain, as the cat had stripped my shaft of most of
the chocolate and was getting perilously close to the head. It wasn’t
going to be enough to keep me from going over the edge, though, as the
cat’s tongue was lapping just under my frenum and its fur was tickling
my balls.
It wasn’t the cat’s tongue, though, that brought me off. It was
the feeling I got when my wife grabbed the remainder of the chocolate
coating from the head of my cock and quickly twisted it off. The
sudden and unexpected stimulation blew my head off, and I gritted my
teeth while my thigh muscles spasmed and cum flew onto my chest and up
to my chin. The damned cat padded its way over my crotch and up to my
chest, where it proceeded to lick the droplets that had landed there,
jiggling the nipple clamps as it did so. My breath was coming in quick
gasps and my thighs were sore, and the final indignity came when my
wife opened my mouth and fed me pieces of chocolate, with my own creamy
filling. I whimpered, but I ate every morsel…
