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Subject: {ASSM} [P2C] Chocolate Kisses {Gary} (MF Rom bd preg chocolate)
Date: Sat, 23 Jun 2001 10:10:05 -0400
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Disclaimer: Under 18? Go away.
This story is my contribution to Pendragon's Second Challenge, the
details of which follow the story.
    
Chocolate Kisses (MF Rom BD Preg chocolate)
(C) 2001 by Gary (pjcocoa@aol.com)
(I love feedback)

Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store."

Once upon a time, this statement, uttered in bed, indicated some
sort of feminine hygiene emergency, and the one who 'needs to go to
the store' was - and is - generally me.  Lately, the statement has 
taken on new connotations, signaling the commencement of foreplay.  
Not just any foreplay, mind you, but a foray into the brave new 
world of light, consensual bondage.  What caught my attention this 
time, however, was the tone of voice behind the words.

Jeanine's voice was equal parts annoyed, resigned, and resentful. 
None of these vocal qualities can be mistaken for aroused,
passionate, or playful.  Even as a member of the congenitally less
perceptive sex, I could not overlook the difference.  This was not
an initiative; this was a reluctant acceptance.  

"What do we need?" I asked, cautiously.  I didn't think it was
safe to assume that it would be something *she* needed  She'd have
said "Would you please go to the store for me?"  Like I said, the
statement she *did* use had become imbued with special meaning.
"You need to pick up some condoms," she pouted.  "You used the
last one this morning."

"Ah."  That explained a lot.  The phrasing meant, "I am up for fun
and games tonight."  Thank god it's Friday.  The tone meant,
"despite the fact that the quartz in my biological clock is
vibrating at a much higher amplitude these days, and you won't give
me the one thing I want."  The "b" word was implicit.  It had been
explicit in several conversations over the last month.

I got out of bed and started dressing.  "Anything I can pick up
for you?"  The question was muffled by the polo shirt I pulled on
over my head, but I knew she heard.  I didn't hear a response, but
saw her head still shaking as my eyes cleared the collar.  Shorts,
tennis shoes next, then check wallet.  I leaned onto the bed and
kissed her forehead lightly.  "Be right back," I whispered.

The local grocery store was a mile or so away.  Not much time to
reflect while driving that distance.  I grabbed a hand basket and
started wandering the aisles, thinking.  Jeanine wanted a baby. 
*I* wanted a baby, but I'd argued that another year would make us
financially better suited to being parents.  Neither of us had made
a stand, the discussion was tabled - again.  Her current resentment
probably stemmed from the fact that this weekend was a peak
fertility period, and another month would elapse before another
would occur.

Would another year make that much difference?  My car was paid
for, hers had a year to go.  She was an Information Technology tech
for the state Department of Transportation, and had excellent
health benefits and a liberal maternity leave policy.  My job paid
better but the health plan sucked.  There were a few vacation spots
we wanted to visit that we might have to forego.  Was that a great
sacrifice?  

Then there was the sex.  It had always been good - mostly always,
anyway.  And lately had gotten even better.  Would Jeanine still
want me when she got big and, well, pregnant?  My brother had a
story or two in that regard, but I always took his stories with a
shaker of salt.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture Jeanine with a big belly. 
And bigger tits.  I guess the picture wasn't a turn-off; I could
feel the pressure in my pants.  I opened my eyes and looked around
quickly to see if anyone had noticed.  I found myself on the candy
aisle.  What would Jeanine like?  She was catholic in her tastes -
if it contained chocolate, she liked it.  But what would
commemorate starting a baby?

It was at that moment that I realized the decision had been made. 
Jeanine wanted a baby.  I wanted a baby.  We would make a baby.
Smiling, I looked at the Almond Joys.  Each one had a little bulge
on top, like a Mounds bar pregnant with an almond.  The M&Ms, the
ones in the yellow bag, each pregnant with a peanut, bigger and
rounder than their smug brethren in the brown bags.  I grabbed a
six pack of the former and a half-pound bag of the latter, as well
as a six pack of Mars bars just out of nostalgia.  There was a
bottle of wine in the refrigerator.  I headed for the checkout. 
Condoms were available there, too.

I asked for a three-pack of my usual brand and paid for my
purchases.  The pretty young teenager blushed as she bagged the
condoms.  I hadn't noticed if she blushed when I asked for them. 
If she continued in this job, she'd have to get over that.  But
after today, I wouldn't be contributing to her embarrassment for
some time to come - at least nine months, probably more.  That
thought gave me pause - I'd be competing for Jeanine's attention
with our baby.  Losing was a foregone conclusion.  Could I handle
that?  If we started a baby tonight, I'd have nine months to
express my concerns.

The drive home was all too brief for such thoughts.  Parked in the
driveway, I could see the flicker of candles in the master bedroom.
A single dim lamp showed through the living room window.  More
preparations than mine were underway.  Inhaling deeply, I locked
the car and entered the house.

In the living room, the CD player was playing Belafonte.  Not my
favorite artist, but he was excellent for setting a mood.  I turned
out the lamp and took my package down the hallway to our bedroom. 
Half a dozen votive candles (vanilla scented) revealed that Jeanine
had gotten a head start.  I grinned at the sight.

Each ankle was wrapped in a Velcro cuff.  A bungee cord connected
a D-ring on each cuff to the brass posts on either side of the foot
of the bed.  Her wrists were also adorned with cuffs;  the right
arm held by another bungee cord to the head of the brass bed while
the left was still free, and idly caressing a nipple.  A "sleeping
mask" blindfold was in place as well.

"Couldn't wait for the coin toss?" I asked softly, setting my bag
on the low dresser.  I deposited keys as well, and began undressing.

"Didn't want to leave the selection to chance," she replied.  "I
was being a bitch earlier.  I deserve to be punished"

Naked, I sat on the bed.  I took her left hand, kissed the
knuckles, then turned it over and kissed the palm, then the inside
of the wrist below the restraint.  I extended her arm and pulled
the corresponding cord to the limits of its extension to hook in
the D-ring of that restraint.  I leaned close to her left ear.

"The safe word," I whispered, "is 'condom'.  "Use the word at any
time, and *all* activity will be halted for the evening."  I licked
her earlobe.  "Do you understand?"  She nodded.  "Good.  I agree
with what you said.  You were very bitchy, and I am going to punish
you as you have never been punished before."

Her head jerked toward me, causing our noses to collide.  Even
with her eyes hidden, I could see the question on her face.  We
*play* at bondage.  Anyone truly into these practices would laugh
at how we go about it, alternating dominant and submissive roles,
never inflicting real pain.  Jeanine now wore all of our equipment
except a black cloth gag.  We owned and used no whips or clamps,
pointy things or penetrating things save what god gave us (except
one small vibrator, but that hardly counts).

The torture we performed was that of delaying sweet release, or
repeatedly inflicting it, or both.  The semblance of bondage merely
allowed us the illusion of submission and dominance, to more freely
express ourselves, and to experience what we might not otherwise
have the courage to seek.  Jeanine's face asked if this was about
to change.

I gave no clue.  Rising, I went to the dresser.  I withdrew a
single Mars bar and the condoms, then returned to her left side.  I
unwrapped the Mars bar first, and waved it under her nose.  My
little chocoholic can smell that scent at fifty paces, through a
closed refrigerator door and a sealed Tupperware container  She
licked her lips.

"Open your mouth."  She did, eagerly.  "This is the first part of
your punishment.  You must hold this between your teeth; you must
not bite it or break it in any way."  She would have said
something, but when she began to close her mouth to speak, the bar
was there, lengthwise across her lips.  She groaned instead.  "You
may only speak to utter the safe word."  She groaned again.

I smiled.  Putting chocolate in a chocoholic's mouth and requiring
them not to eat it *is* a form of torture.  Next, I drew the backs
of my fingernails from above her wrist cuffs to the bottom of her
breast, around the nipple but never making contact.  My other hand
I interlaced with hers.  I repeated with my fingernails until I
drew another groan.  Her nipple was as erect as I had ever seen it,
standing out from the areola like a fingertip.  I switched sides of
the bed.

On the right side, now, I repeated the caresses to the same
effect.  I hadn't decided where next to tease, so passed a few idle
moments just lightly flicking her nipples in what I hoped was a
random pattern.  Jeanine gasped and groaned most encouragingly,
though muffled around the candy bar.  I noticed that her teeth had
sunk involuntarily into the chocolate.

I ran my left hand from between her breasts up to her right cheek,
and grasped the Mars bar where it extended beyond her lips. 
"Open," I said.  She did, relinquishing the bar.  I looked at it. 
Besides the imprint of her teeth, her tongue had evidently been
licking a hole through the back.

I plunged the bar lengthwise into her mouth and said "Suck, but
remember; no teeth."  As I began a steady in-out rhythm with my
left hand, I cupped a breast and squeezed gently in time to that
motion, occasionally flicking the nipple.  I switched breasts
often, sometimes returning to the same breast.  Soon, the Mars bar
took on a more rounded, if somewhat disgusting appearance.  At the
bottom of a stroke, I stopped with a half-inch protruding, and left
it.

I left her like this for a few minutes, retrieving a couch cushion
from the living room.  Kneeling between her legs, I slid a hand
under her ass, then lifted, sliding the cushion under from the
side.  Her cheeks were on the edge of the cushion.  I leaned back
on my heels to enjoy the view.

Waiting for some touch, anticipating, Jeanine began to squirm. 
Her nipples never shrank from the earlier arousal, and anticipation
served to keep them at attention.  Her mouth continued to work over
the candy bar.  The tension in the bungee cords limited her motion.

"Jeanine," I whispered, "are you into water sports?"  Her head
shook a vigorous no.  "As part of your punishment, I will see to it
that you find it very difficult to stay away from a bathroom for
long."  I slipped a single finger into her very moist center,
moving it slowly in and out.  With the other hand, I gently pulled
her short curlies, the ones closest to her clit, towards her
stomach and back in time to the finger.  I kept this up until I
heard a whimper.

"Jeanine, I am going to torture your sensitive tits," I whispered
again, until they are swollen and aching."  I could see her trying
to push the shriveled remnant of the Mars bar aside, to speak. 

"Not a word," I preempted.  "Not one word except the safe word, if
that's what you want."  I added a second finger.

I could see the play of emotions across the unhidden parts of her
face.  We really don't use pain, and if I had inflicted anything
like what I was describing, the safe word would have been used. 
She wasn't even sure about the threats of abuse - she was very,
very confused.  Her arousal contributed to the confusion.

I escalated the threats, and the confusion.  "I'm going to make
you feel overpowering nausea, nausea so hideous that even the
thought of chocolate will send you running to the bathroom."  That
was it.  The stub of the Mars bar disappeared in her cheek and she
was about to utter the word.  I substituted my unwrapped cock for
my fingers and sank it to the hilt.

She gasped.  Then a sudden realization - "You're not wearing a.." 
She bit her lips.

"What did I say about speaking?  Are you going to say the safe
word?"  She shook her head.  "Are you sure?"  She shook it again. 
"One word, you know the one, and I will stop.  I will stop this
punishment.  I will stop causing your belly and tits to swell, stop
the threat of a fetus pushing on your bladder. Do you want this
punishment to end?"  I slowly withdrew with each word to the lips
of her cunt.

She shook her head yet again, and I plunged again as deeply as I
could.  My damp fingers began to circle her clit.  "You must be
certain.  Your feet will hurt, your back will ache, and eventually,
you'll have to squeeze something enormous through a passage that
feels pretty damned tight to me."  I gasped, "Oh God!  Even
tighter."  I started a steady rhythm, before her squeezing muscles
made me lose control.  "You may speak freely," I wheezed.

I noticed a tear or two trickling down her cheeks.  Jeanine said,
"Could you untie me, please?  I really need to hug you."

I groaned.  I didn't want to stop.  Maybe I wouldn't have to.  I
leaned back, without withdrawing completely.  I could easily reach
the ties on her ankles, and released them, first left, then right. 
Putting an arm under Jeanine, I lifted and thrust.  She slid a foot
or so up the bed.  Lift and thrust again and her head was nearly at
the headboard, with enough slack to free her own arms.

She did, and pulled off her mask.  She wrapped her legs around
mine, her arms beneath my armpits, and used both to pull me in and
up, bringing my mouth to hers.  She still tasted of chocolate.  She
kissed me with her whole body, making even my toes tingle.  I
couldn't pull back, but I could push in and did, faster and faster.
I don't know why she pulled off the mask.  Her eyes were tightly
shut, tears streaming as she pushed to meet my every thrust.  I
worried that I might really be hurting her, but when I slacked off
a little, her arms and legs pulled me tighter and she thrust
harder, so I gave her my best.  

I knew I couldn't last much longer.  Hell, one of my reasons for
enjoying this bondage scenario was that I could get her excited
before I truly started, so we could finish together the first time
instead of frustrating her until I recovered.  But she beat me to
the finish line, clenching internally and arching her back.  My
lips lost their purchase and she scroaned - that's a cross between
a scream and a groan - long and loud.  Before she was done I joined
her in release - I may have scroaned as well.

I would have tried to roll off, but she still had me trapped in a
full body hug.  I tried to keep my weight from crushing her by
locking my elbows while I caught my breath.

Finally, Jeanine relaxed her grip and allowed me to snuggle beside
her.  She kept her hips raised on the cushion, though, and raised
her knees as well.  Turning her head, she locked eyes with me.  Her
eyes were still glistening, tears barely held in check.  Her smile
was alternately tender and ecstatic.  "I love you," she breathed.

I kissed her smile and replied, "I love you, too."  I remembered
the purchases. "Be right back."

I fairly leapt from the bed and grabbed the contents of the bag. 
Returning to Jeanine's side, I held up the yellow bag.  "Pregnant
M&M's," I grinned.  Jeanine giggled.  Next the blue and white
package.  "Pregnant Mounds bars."  I wiggled my eyebrows.

"Goof!  Those are milk chocolate - Mounds are dark chocolate"

"And just what," I said, cupping a breast, "happens when they
become pregnant?"

Her giggles became outright laughs, punctuated with that cute
little snort that distinguished her laughter.  When she calmed
down, we shared a meaningful silence.  Then she looked at the
ceiling.

"One of us," she intoned solemnly, "needs to go to the store."

I shook my head.  "All of us," I replied, "need to stay right
here, together.  I am bound to you forever."

It was a night of chocolate kisses.

The End

-- 
Gary

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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