Chapter 39

Sunday afternoon, Nov 5, 2028

Addie got home a little after four. She still looked the same; she acted like Addie, sounded like Addie, greeted me with the kiss I expected. I don’t know what else I expected. Maybe it was me with the guilty conscience. Her first words were, “Kids? Where are they?”

At least it wasn’t, “Who the hell did you fuck last night?”

“They’re spending the night with Nicki. She wanted to take them to a movie.”

She frowned, “That’s disappointing. I like coming home to them.”

I didn’t tell her they were there since yesterday morning. “I’m sorry, but they begged. Really wanted to go to that movie with Nicki and Livvy. I told Nicki we’d pick them up about a quarter after seven.”

I know, I should have told her right then. But I wanted to hear about the rest of hers and Nick’s night first. She must have been reading my mind, “Take me to dinner and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Hell yeah! I wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity. There’s a restaurant called The Stagecoach that we’ve heard about but never been. We climbed in the van and just out of curiosity, I said, “Abbie, The Stagecoach.”

The map on the big screen came to life, showing the route, then the car backed itself out of the driveway and turned left, toward town.

It was a twenty-minute drive of not touching the wheel, letting the car take us, literally. I could get used to this! Like having a chauffer-driven limo. “You enjoy driving this, don’t you?” I commented to Addie.

“I do ... of course, ‘enjoy’ is relative. Some things are MUCH more enjoyable,” I glanced over at her, sitting there with a Cheshire Cat smile on her face, leaving no doubt at all what she was talking about.

The Stagecoach was aptly named. From the outside, it was rustic, looking for all the world like an old-time stagecoach station along the trail; weathered-wood siding, tying rails out front, and a steer horn for a pull on the old, heavy wood door. Inside it was different. Not modern by any means, but polished, I guess you’d call it; like the inside of an old-west, high-end saloon might have been. It reminded me a little of The Cavern, that underground ‘nightclub/restaurant’ in Seattle we went to with T&T that first weekend we’d met them ... which reminded me of, what was her name ... Paula, the waitress that night.

The lights were all dim, flickering, gas lights on the wall and a big candelabra in the center of the room. They certainly all looked like real gas lights, anyway. The long, polished and carved bar matched the tables with their round-back wooden chairs.

But I wasn’t nearly as interested in the décor as I was in what Addie was about to tell me from last night. I wanted to hear her version of their ‘date’, then the night that followed back at his house.

It was seat yourself, so we found a table along the wall in a corner where it seemed a little more private and the waitress brought us a menu, then my ice tea, and Addie’s strawberry lemonade. Waiting was driving me crazy, but Addie didn’t seem to be in any hurry to tell me the tale. She asked how the kids were over the weekend and I answered honestly that they were great, but missed their mom and were excited to get to go to that movie with Nicki tonight. That was all mostly true, just not exactly everything.

The waitress brought our food: my rib steak and Addie’s crab salad. (crab salad - in a stagecoach station?) It was really good, but still wasn’t what I was interested in.

Finally, she relented after we started eating, “I suppose you want some details about last night?” she asked me.

I nodded, “Please!”

“Well,” she started, “My mom called me on my way home. She said they had a really good dinner ... had all their sexy clothes bought and ready ... and couldn’t go through with it.” Addie rolled her eyes like she does when she’s mildly irritated (usually at me), “Said they’re already planning another dinner and they know they’ll be ready next time.”

“She say why they couldn’t?” I asked her.

“Just nerves. Next time they’re planning a little liquid reinforcement beforehand,” she laughed.

Our parents don’t drink any more than Addie or I do, maybe even less. Although, less than almost none is still pretty much almost none. I have on rare occasion seen them have a drink. That’s a pretty big commitment on Laura’s part, to say they’re going to use alcohol to bolster their courage.

Anyway, interesting as it was, that wasn’t what I was wanting to hear about. “And you? What about your date?” I finally had to outright ask her. I had thought she was just going to tell me.

“Oh that, I was going to save that for later ... at home.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes big time at her. “But ... I thought...”

She smiled, an evil grin, “I thought you wanted to know about our parents. That’s what I meant when I said I was going to tell you what you wanted to know.”

I rolled my eyes at her again, “Yeah ... but...”

“Later...” was all she’d say with her little laugh.

I don’t even remember the rest of the meal. A perfectly good steak, an expensive one at that, pretty much wasted. She knows how to get under my skin!

We drove home after dinner, my stomach a ball of nerves. I guess I kind of liked it that my mom couldn’t go through with their fashion show, kind of disappointed, too, though.

Once we were home, I carried Addie’s bags in the house for her, then she went in our bedroom, closed the door behind her and I settled down, anticipating another long, excruciating wait. I was surprised as hell when, after only a few minutes, Addie opened the door and said she was ready for me.

I didn’t understand what was going on. Addie was just sitting on the edge of the bed and asked if I needed to use the bathroom. I shrugged but made a potty-stop anyway. It was a little hard because in my anticipation, my cock was quite swollen and the pipe to the bladder plugged off. I managed, though. Peed and peed. Didn’t realize I had that much inside me, probably because of nerves.

When I came out of the bathroom, Addie was waiting for me, still sitting on the bed. She said one word, “Strip.”

I looked at her, my head a little askew, wondering ‘what the hell?’

“Strip,” she said again.

Okay, I was wearing a pullover shirt, so pulled it over my head; then took my shoes and socks off; unbuttoned my pants and slid them off, standing in my boxers.

“All of it.”

Oookay, Addie was still dressed. This seemed weird to me. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? I pushed down my shorts and was naked in front of her, my little man about half inflated. Somehow, even after our ten years together, this was uncomfortable.

Once she had me standing naked, she picked up a blindfold off her nightstand. I hadn’t noticed it sitting there before. This wasn’t the simple tie-behind-the-head cloth that she’d used before. This was a form-fitted, black satin blindfold that had Velcro straps behind my head. She’d apparently been planning this. I wasn’t going to complain, but ‘awkward’ didn’t even begin to describe it. With my headset, I was effectively blindfolded when it wasn’t on, but I was under my own control.

Addie, once again, read my mind, “You trust me?”

Well, yeah I did ... sort of. “Yeah, I guess, I think so, anyway.”

She laughed, “Such a vote of confidence from my husband. What, you think I might drug you and torture you or something? Maybe put you on your stomach and spank you?”

“No, I...”

“SOME of us wouldn’t do that, WOULD some of us?”

I think I was beginning to regret that Sunday night.

“Okay, love, lay down ... on your back, not your tummy ... no spanking.”

I felt for the edge of the bed behind my back, scooted back a little, sat, and then spread out on my back like Addie had asked. I was feeling really, really weird. One by-product of the weirdness was that my cock had about ninety-percent deflated.

I couldn’t see a thing, total blackness. I tried to listen but wasn’t hearing anything, either. Then all of a sudden, I felt Addie gripping my right hand and tugging my arm up and out to the side. “Scoot this way just a bit.” I did, scooting my body over, “No, just your top half, leave your legs where they were.” Okay, I scooted my top over and my legs back over the other way, so I would have been lying on the bed mostly diagonally. I had no clue what she was doing or planning.

Then I felt it and heard it. The ‘click’ of the handcuff around my wrist and my arm pulled tight above my head over toward the top corner of the bed. I started to instinctively pull back when Addie admonished me, “No, don’t pull. You’ll like it, I promise.” Okay, I tried to relax. I trust her. Kind of. I thought of what she’d said two weeks ago, “Next time, your turn.” Well, apparently, this was ‘next time’.

I knew what was coming and sure enough, a few seconds later, she was gripping my left arm and pulling it up in the opposite direction, then the same click. “Ow,” I told her, “That’s tight. It hurts.”

She released the pressure just a bit, “Better?”

“Yeah ... I guess.” I grumbled.

She pulled it tight again, even tighter. “Sorry, sorry, it was fine ... please.” She let up on the pressure slightly, enough so that it didn’t hurt at least, although it was still tight enough that I couldn’t move. “Okay,” I told her.

I knew again and was right. The ‘click’ around one ankle, pull tight off to the right, then the other ankle and pulled to the left. I was effectively tied, quartered, and blindfolded.

“One more little thing and we’ll be done. You comfy enough?”

I wasn’t comfortable at all! “Yes, dear, fine,” I told her, not quite panicking at remembering what I’d done to her two weeks ago. But close.

I didn’t feel or hear anything except maybe a drawer. I wasn’t good at this blindfolded-trying-to-decipher-sounds, thing. I was sure I heard Addie’s sexy, “Mmm,” noise. WTF?

A moment later I felt her hand under my head lifting, then another strap behind my head ... and something tickling my lips, making me instinctively open my mouth a bit. Oh shit! That ball gag. And it tasted like...

“I hope you like how it tastes, I really enjoyed giving it the flavoring.”

... like Addie’s pussy! That’s what the ‘Mmm’ was.

And my mouth was stuffed full of a pussy-flavored, rubber ball, held by a rubber strap around my head. “Mfft,” I tried to say, then started to gag and almost panic-ridden, breathed through my nose, thinking about nothing else. After just a moment, the gag reflex passed and I was fine. Sort of.

Shit, just an hour ago, Addie and I were sitting happily in The Stagecoach, finishing a good dinner.

“I think we’re done ... except I see one more tiny detail that we need to adjust slightly.” Oh shit, what now?

I felt her fingers on my cock, then her lips and tongue. Her lips sucking the head, tongue groping at the tip, her hand up and down on the base. Damn, it felt good! Especially good - the darkness seemed to intensify it. I involuntarily moaned, but no sound came out, except a weak gurgle because of the big rubber ball in my mouth.

Her hot mouth slid slowly down my shaft, that was already hard. Did she do this with Nick last night? Maybe this morning? The combination of the darkness and having been there made that image so much more real. Of course, the very real feel of Addie’s lips moving up and down on me, squeezing was bringing me very quickly ... and then she stopped. ‘Nooo!’ I tried to yell out and nothing came out of my mouth except another gurgly noise and maybe a little spit.

I tried pulling at my arms and legs to express my frustration, but the only reaction from Addie was, “I like that much better.” She should. I’d gone from a wet noodle to an almost unbearable, rock-hard shaft in a matter of a couple minutes.

And then ... nothing! No noise, no movement, no drawers opening, nothing!

I was listening, trying hard to detect something, anything. I thought maybe I heard footsteps but wasn’t sure. We have a fairly thick carpet in our bedroom and footsteps don’t make noise. Was that a tiny creak from a door opening? Probably not, the doors don’t creak. I just lay there in the darkness and silence, no idea what my wife was doing. I can’t think when I’ve ever felt so freakin’ helpless!

I’d had some experience over the last few months of time creeping by slowly. But nothing like this. How the hell do you describe something that’s so damned indescribable? I flopped my head around, trying to either dislodge the blindfold or the gag in my mouth. What the hell was she doing? Sitting there, just watching me? Gloating that it was finally ‘my turn’?