He was quite surprised, but did as she had asked him. She leaned back, relaxed, and said:
“You know, Darling, I love the fact that you’re impotent. After all these years it’s so nice being able to enjoy a foot massage without the hassle of you getting all excited and wanting to stick your cock in me”.
Suddenly, she withdrew her foot and spoke again: “Do you think you could take your clothes off for me?”
“Why?”
“Just take them off, then kneel at my feet again. I’ll show you when you’re naked”.
Intrigued, but hesitant, he slowly did as she asked. Her black stockinged foot extended forwards, pushed his thighs apart, and with a delicious silkiness rubbed against his soft penis and shrunken scrotum. She lifted her skirt, treating him to a view that six months previously would have had him ripping her knickers off and taking her in an instant.
“The thing is, Darling, I’m just checking that you’re properly impotent. If your cock passes, or rather fails, the silky rub and glimpse of suspenders test, I’ll know that it’s safe to let you kiss me just above my stocking tops”
His face was a picture of fearful apprehension. His muscles tensed, but one part of his body remained totally soft, in the confines of its chemical chastity cage. After a few minutes she reached forward, grabbed his hair, and pulled his head to her upper thigh. He kissed her bare milky skin, and then his hands came up.
“Did I say you could use your hands?” she said, with a tone of mock anger.
She opened her legs, pushed his head down, and clamped him tightly with her thighs. She then grabbed his wrists, pulled them behind his back, and quickly tied them with a black silk ribbon. For a few moments she enjoyed his struggle; rapid but powerless movements of his arms, shoulders and head. His beautiful soft stubble against her inner thighs was so much nicer than its former scratchy self.
“Yes, Darling. I am stronger than you. Oestrogen beats no testosterone. The fact that you’re so weak means I can tie your wrists and dominate you even when you don’t want to be dominated, doesn’t it?”
Her words drove home to him the futility of his struggle. He stopped moving, tears in his eyes. She rested her feet on his thighs, enjoying the fiery warmth of his hormonal flush, and smiling at the poetic justice of being a couple where the man gets the hot flushes.
She slowly leaned back, lifting her elbows from his shoulders. She hitched up her skirt a fraction more, pulled his head back in to position, and nonchalantly picked up her phone to check her messages whilst enjoying his gentle kisses. A text from her lover gave her an overwhelming urge to push her hand in to her knickers, but not just yet. Her husband was at the first stages of getting used to this. She read the rest of her messages, enjoyed his lips and soft stubble, and then spoke again.
“Thank you, Darling. That was perfect; kisses but no pressure to accommodate your rampant cock. Of course, if I need a hard cock… you saw the waiter eyeing me up and down, but did you notice the monster erection jammed in his trousers. I’m sure he’d be grateful if I offered to relieve it for him. What’s the matter, Darling? You’re not jealous, surely? I’d let you watch, I promise.”
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