At ten the next morning Joe got a text from Sandi. She knew to wait until Janice was gone and Keith was at work or at least away from the house. They had developed a system to send easily explainable blurbs of text to signal one another when the coast was clear.
GOOD MORNING MY BEAUTIFUL MAN.
GOOD MORNING YOURSELF. He replied.
LUNCH?
DONE.
As soon as he sent the text Joe began to get hard. He decided he had what he referred to as "Pavlov's Dick." Anything from Sandi; be it text, call, picture or even thought caused his dick to start salivating into his shorts, demanding to be fed into her mouth.
At mid-day Joe made his way to Sandi's house. He sat down the street for a while, his load building inside his cannon, imagining kissing that perfect mouth of hers with his tongue followed by licking her down to her nipples. She was an endless inspiration of erotic pleasure for him. His tongue would finish its journey at her clit and be rewarded by tasting the sweet nectar that she stored between her legs. After feeding on her it would lick its way back up to her mouth and end up kissing her once again.
Five minutes later he sauntered into her back yard, waiting to hear her car. He loosened the laces on his boots so they would come off easier when she opened the door. Five minutes more and still no car. He waited another five minutes then texted her again.
LUNCH? REALLY. YOU OKAY?
No response. Joe began to worry. Did she get in a car accident? Did Keith find out? Was she kidnapped? Robbed? Was someone else using her phone?
Joe retied his boots and slipped out the side gate. He headed back to work, his half filled cock as disappointed as him.
An hour later he got a text.
SORRY HAD TO WORK. MAYBE TOMORROW
TOMORROW? He wrote back. I NEED YOU NOW!
GOTTA GO, was the reply.
Joe tried texting back and even calling her cell phone but there was no response. Naturally he was unable to leave a voice message of any kind, which was frustrating. He decided to text Keith and see if they might get together later for a drink. Keith let him know he was busy but "maybe later in the week."
Joe pondered what could be going on here. Since they had first kissed Sandi always found a way to take care of Joe when he needed it. No questions asked and no excuses. If necessary even on her way home from work she would tell him to park anywhere. Then she would park close by, jump out of her car, dive into his car, suck him, swallow him, kiss him, smile at him and head home. This was her first no-show.
Joe decided that either something strange was going on or she really just had to work. As he was working himself he pondered what might have happened. He knew he could never get upset at her; he loved her too much for that. But perhaps, if she was actually working he could penalize her for missing their appointment.
Joe went to his shop and let his imagination wander. He was crazy about Sandi's tits: those 34 DD's that seemed like a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Diane Lane with a bit more olive coloring. Looking through his drawer of assorted parts he came up with two matching small clamps. The clamps were about three inches long, formed of two pieces of blue plastic with rubber-coated tips. The closing device was a small metal spring that forced the tips together. Joe fiddled with one, bending the spring a bit to release tension. He tried one on his little finger to see how it felt.
As he toyed with the clamp he found himself getting a bit aroused thinking about using one or both of these on his lover. The tension didn't seem to bad on his finger, but it would be difficult to adjust these when he was with her. Plus his smallest finger was easily twice the size of Sandi's perfect pencil eraser sized and shaped nipples.
So he did the next best test; he took one and tried to clamp it on his own nipple. Joe didn't have much in the way of protruding nipples and it was difficult to get traction. He licked his finger and rubbed one; similar to the way he loved to rub Sandi's.
After a moment he found his nipple hardening a little. Not hard like when Sandi sucked on them, but close. He squeezed behind it until the nipple was as far out as it was going to get. He centered the clamp and let go of it with his hand.
"Fuck!" Joe screamed. "Shit." The pain was incredible. The tip of his tit felt crushed.
"Alright fucker," he told the clamp, "it's the chop shop for you."
Joe dissembled the clamps and cut each spring in half. He reassembled them and stimulated his other nipple to come to life. He then literally put his tit in the wringer.
"Not bad." He said aloud. The pressure was steady but not squeezing. It would probably not be something you'd wear out to dinner, but for a half hour he thought it would work.
He found a number of light metal rings in a coffee can. Each was about the diameter of a key ring. He counted out eight and connected them to form a chain with a clamp on each end. They actually looked as good as some of the nipple clamps he had seen on the Internet. Carefully he wrapped them up just in the hope he might be able to try them out.
Joe went back to his day, happy that he had found the appropriate penalty for Sandi. He was working outside on a project that required running some corrugated tubing for a fountain project. It was about a twenty-foot length. As he connected and shaped the tubing his mind wandered again. The tubing was hollow black plastic with a circular ring about every quarter inch to help it bend but also stay rigid. Joe put his hand around the end. It was certainly less than the diameter of his dick. He grabbed it and slid his hand along it like he was jacking his shaft. The spaces between the ridges gave it a unique feel as he slid along. He imagined Sandi's pussy clamping on it only to have the ridge force her opening wider, then clamping again.
Satisfied, he measured a length of it about the length of his cock plus three fingers to hold it and cut off a piece. He once again went to the shop and carefully removed any sharp edges. Later when no one was around he boiled it to be sure it was sanitary. While boiling the piece softened and curled to match the edges of the pot he was using. When it cooled on the counter it was again rigid but had a pleasant little bend to it.
As usual thinking about Sandi had once again taken over his day. Although he was disappointed earlier he would be ready if she got back in touch. And as luck and love would have it, she did.
The next morning Sandi called him and said she needed "face time." They set an appointment for lunch.
This time Sandi's car was parked by the time Joe arrived. He cautiously approached the house with a pocket full of punishments. Sandi met him at the door, which was unusual.
She was wearing a green dress that opened in the front and a white sweater. The dress of course stopped short of showing the nice rack hidden below. No doubt Ms. Proper had been at work that morning. She of course had a matching necklace on. He noticed she had no nylons on and stood in three-inch heels.
"Hi baby," was her greeting.
"Whew." Joe thought. If anyone else had been home that would definitely would not of been the greeting.
"So sorry about yesterday, I've just been buried at work."
"I get it, sort of." Joe feigned being upset, but inside his heart was racing and he was anxious about trying out his new toys.
