Edge of Your Seat (Edging, Gunplay)

A man in all black is tied down to a dining room chair. He’s wearing a ski mask. Though his arms are covered, he clearly works out. The black, long sleeved shirt contours to the mounds of muscles they cover.

Jenna enters the room wearing only her white cotton panties and a strip of t-shirt across her tits. Her budding hard nipples leave little for the imagination to the man that can see them. Same for the gun resting in her hand.

“So you thought you could just enter my window and think you could steal from me?”

No answer from him.

She racks the slide.

He answers.

“Yes.”

He’s sweating, that much is clear through the holes of his mask.

“Didn’t think lil’ ole me would be holdin’ such a biggg barrel, did ya?”

He swallows but keeps quiet. She jabs the muzzle of the glock under his chin.

“I’m gonna need an answer, sugar.”

The barrel tickles his chin. Even though he's sweating, his jaw flares in defiance.

“Clearly I didn’t know you owned a cannon.”

“I bet you were here to ravage me, weren’t ya?” She giggles.

“Is that something you want? I’d be happy to make it happen if you untie me.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t listen to you seriously while your lips move inside a hole.”

“That’s a shame.”

Laying the handgun on the table behind her, Jenna rolls the skimask up to reveal his strong jawline and his dark, 5 o’clock shadow. She runs her tongue across that strong line up his chin and dunks her tongue into his mouth.

He sucks on Jenna’s tongue, gathering the sweetness off her buds before she takes it back.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” she says, taking her small wrist watch off and laying it on the table. The face of which was for him to view.

“I’m going to get you off using only my fingers. If you last more than five minutes, I won’t blow your fucking head off,” she giggles.

He’s confused, “Just, your fingers?”

“It won’t be that easy for you. These fingers,” she says as she pinches her nipples, stretching them away from her tits. Letting them go, her tits bounce back to their perky selves. “Are magical.”

His large cock impresses against his pants and she begins to stroke him. With a delicate grip of her thumb and index finger, she pulls his zipper down.

“Oh, no underwear. What exactly were you planning, mister?”

She grabs the hilt of his bar and frees it from his pants. Precum is already seeping from his tip. Her finger rakes the large droplet and feeds it to herself.

“Tick tock, mister. Not a good start for you.”

“5 minutes of this will be a cinch.”

“4 minutes 15 seconds to be exactly.”

The flat of her hand glides down the bottom of his dick. Two of fingertips circle around the lid of his head, where they run outside of his cock like a pair of scissors. More beads of precum seep away. This time she uses it as lube for her fingers.

“Such a strong fucking cock,” she sings. “Your mind is weak, on the other...hand.”

Both hands take turns one after the other stroking downwards. His arms tighten and bulge inside his rope. The wood underneath them creaks as if they were going to splinter. He’s never felt his dick get this hard in his life. 

“Hey, mister. You might make it after all. Two minutes and thirty seconds left.”

He strains and hisses through his teeth, “You said fingers only.”

“Oh yeah!” she smiles. “I got carried away.”

“Cheater.”

Jenna slaps his cock. It springs back up and harder than ever.

“Watch your mouth and the time.”

The slaps to his rigid length let up long enough for him to check the clock. One minute and fifty second. He can last.

“Hey. Because I cheated, I’m going to make it up to ya,” she giggles. “I’m only going to use one finger.” She gives him a big thumbs up.

He grows cocky. Within his head he thinks one finger will never get him off.

That same thumbs-upped thumb is placed on the frenulum of his cock, the bottom portion of the tip where spades. The middle of her thumb rubs, encircling the space and skin, swirling his precum throughout the area. It’s such a simple move on a hard cock, but it generates a great amount of teasing pleasure. The sweep of the thumb cross over the gorge of skin under his tip that engorged his sex.

All nerves within his body are pulled to that area. The rubbing at the bottom of his head sped up. He begged for it to stop, he was going to lose if it didn’t, but his mouth didn’t work. He figure he had about five seconds of torture. He was wrong, he had a minute-ten more.

With her eye on the time, Jenna pulled the glock from the table and stuck it under his chin. The grip on the other gun got stronger. The swirls on his tip got larger. His precum got thicker. Her own moans for his cum became louder.

10

9

8

7

6

5 

Growing nerves for both of them. Who was going to win?

4

His chin rises. His mind only on that unrelenting thumb.

3

Her heart sinks, has she lost her touch?

2

His hard cock surged. Volcanic loads spewed from his cock. It was the best lost he ever felt in his life. Jets of cum land on his chest, even on the gun under his chin. 

His cock grew sensitive with every second, he jitters at ever slow swipe at his swollen rob. She kisses some of the cum off the tip before she gets in his face.

“Time’s up.”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t beg for his life. He doesn’t shout. He’s completely stoic after what she’s done to him with her masterful fingers. Happy that it ends this way.

CLICK!

A dry fire. 

No small hole under his chin. No brains against the ceiling. Not one drop of blood. The gun isn’t even loaded as she rolls the rest of the sky mask off and sits in his lap.

“Splleeshh!” she says to him, mimicking his head exploding with her hands.

He smiles back. “You kill me every single time.”

They kiss passionately before she pulls away.

“What time is it?” Jenna asked.

Looking at the watch on the table, “Uhh, 9:45.”

“Oh, the kids are going to be home soon.”

“Shit…, alright. Untie me.”

The watch returns to her wrist. Jenna leaves to return the gun to their gun safe.

“Honey, seriously. Untie me. Jenna?” He watches her purposely ignore him when she leaves the room.

“We can’t just leave firearms laying around the house,” she says from a distance in a delightfully playful tone. 

“Hey. Jenna! Jenna, I don’t want the kids to see my firearm either!”

With his body weight he makes little hops toward their bedroom.

“Oh come here you big baby,” she says, untying his arms. “I didn’t know I married such a whiner,” she teases.

Read my book Strapped for Survival with its free bonus story Wine Not

On Amazon Kindle NOW

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088DXMCG1