Chapter 10: Getting Edgy
The polished oak of Jen’s dining table reflected the cold gleam of the chandelier above, and Ashley’s bare foot, having slipped free from her sandal, found its way to Kevin’s thigh under the pristine linen. He stiffened, a green bean halfway to his mouth, and shot her a warning glance that she met with an innocent smile, her toes tracing a deliberate, insistent path inward.
Her hand slid from her own lap, the linen tablecloth whispering as her fingers found the strained fabric of his panties and traced the shape of him, soft but stirring. “Ashley, don’t,” he muttered through a forced smile, his own hand darting down to clamp over hers, but she only twisted her wrist, applying a gentle, maddening pressure.
“The humidity is just relentless this week, isn’t it?” Jen said, sipping her iced tea, completely unaware as Ashley’s fingers deftly worked him out a leg hole in his panties. Kevin let out a strangled cough, his face flushing as he felt the cool air of the room on his exposed skin, her hand now gripping him.
She began to stroke him, a slow, deliberate rhythm that tightened his stomach and made the linen napkin in his lap twitch. “Kevin, honey, are you feeling alright?” Jen asked, her voice slicing through the thick air, and he forced a nod, his throat too dry to speak.
He pushed her hand away, a sharp, desperate motion under the tablecloth, and she finally retracted, leaving him throbbing and exposed. Now, with Jen’s suspicious gaze upon him, he was terrified the obvious tent in his linen panties would not subside before he had to stand up.
He focused on the sharp tang of the lemon in his water, the prickle of sweat on his neck, anything but the warmth still coiled in his gut, and somehow the fabric lay flat by the time Jen finally rose to clear the plates. Later, in the dark of their borrowed room, the household asleep, Ashley’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of his panties and freed him, her touch a familiar, claiming stroke.
“You were so quiet at dinner,” she whispered into the nape of his neck, her breath hot as her palm rubbed slowly up his length, a stark contrast to the frantic energy from the table. He shuddered, pushing back against her, all earlier refusal forgotten in the dark.
Then she slid out of bed, the moonlight slicing silver lines across her skin as she peeled her sleep shirt over her head and stepped out of her panties. She climbed back over him, guiding him with her hand, and lowered herself until her warmth hovered just above his aching skin, her voice a ragged whisper in the dark. "Do you want to be inside of me?"
“Yes, God, please,” he begged, his voice cracking as he arched his hips upward, seeking her. She lifted herself just out of reach, a dark smile playing on her lips as she shook her head.
"You haven't earned it yet," she breathed, her words a cold verdict in the dark. Her fingers curled around him, not to pleasure but to guide, tucking his aching cock firmly back into the confinement of his panties with a final, patting squeeze.
The next morning, a pale dawn light seeping through the blinds, her hand slid under the sheet and found him already hard. She took him in a firm, practiced grip, her strokes slow and deliberate at first, then quickening with a relentless rhythm that pulled a ragged gasp from his throat before he was even fully awake.
He bucked his hips off the mattress, a raw, involuntary thrust into her fist, his breathing already coming in sharp pants. She immediately slowed her hand to a maddening, almost idle crawl, her thumb barely grazing the tip, watching his face contort with need.
She leaned close, her lips brushing his ear. “I need my man inside of me,” she whispered, the words hot and ragged, “come on, big strong man, give it to me.”
A broken sound escaped his throat and he surged upward, driving himself mindlessly into her fist, his hips moving with a frantic, clumsy rhythm.
Her hand stilled, clamping him in a vise-like grip just as the bedroom door swung inward. “Rise and shine, you two,” Jen announced, her voice crisp, a neatly folded pair of his lace-trimmed panties draped over her forearm.
Jen’s eyes dropped, her cheerful expression hardening into something cold and appalling as she took in the scene. “What in God’s name is this?” she hissed, her gaze locked on the blatant proof of the act she’d just interrupted.
Kevin’s mouth opened, a silent plea forming on his lips, but Ashley recoiled first, snatching her hand back as if burned. “Ew, Kev,” she said, her nose wrinkling in perfect, fabricated disgust, “were you jerking off?”
“In my house?” Jen’s voice splintered into a sharp, dangerous whisper. “Get out of that bed and go stand in the corner right now, facing the wall.”
Kevin scrambled up, the sheets tangling around his ankles, and shuffled to the designated spot by the dresser as a light, breathy giggle escaped Ashley, who pulled the comforter up to her chin.
Jen’s eyes, cold and unwavering, snapped to her daughter. “Ashley, get up and go make the coffee so your husband can stand here and think about what he’s done,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for debate.
Ashley slipped from the bed, avoiding Kevin’s pleading eyes, and padded out of the room. As she passed him in the corner, her hand, hidden from Jen’s view by the doorframe, darted out and gave his confined manhood a swift, knowing squeeze through the thin fabric of his panties.
The door clicked shut behind Ashley, leaving Kevin alone under the weight of Jen’s silent, simmering stare. When she returned some time later to find him still standing there, his shame now a defiant, physical ache pressing against the lace, she sighed with a mother’s exhausted resolve. “Come with me,” she said, her voice devoid of heat, leading him by the elbow to the bathroom where she began filling the tub with a rushing cascade of cold water and ice from the freezer. “You’ll sit here until that inappropriate little problem of yours goes away,” she stated, her hand firm on his shoulder until he stepped into the shocking, numbing cold and sat down, his gasp echoing off the tiles.
He sat rigid in the icy water, his pathetic arousal stubbornly refusing to wilt under the cold, a betrayal of flesh that made Jen’s lips press into a thin, white line. She snatched a clean washcloth from the rack, ran it under the freezing tap, and without a word began scrubbing at his exposed skin with a rough, clinical urgency, the coarse fabric chafing a bright, shameful pink into the tender flesh.
She leaned close, her voice a scalding whisper in his ear. "All this fuss over something so small, and you still can't control it."
His will, and his erection, finally surrendered, shriveling under the icy water and her scornful gaze. She lifted him from the tub with a towel, rubbing his skin briskly until it stung, then guided his limbs into the lace-trimmed panties and a soft, rose-colored camisole without a word.
The chilled sting of the towel only deepened the heat in his cheeks as she led him to the kitchen, where Ashley avoided his eyes over a silent breakfast of perfectly scrambled eggs. After pushing her plate away, Jen’s voice cut the quiet: “Ashley, give us the table so I can discuss your husband’s problem with his penis.”
Ashley vanished, the click of her coffee mug on the counter echoing in the silence she left behind. Jen fixed Kevin with a look that made the lace of his panties feel even tighter. “We need to talk about your… constant state of arousal, Kevin,” she began, her voice clipped and clinical. “It’s disruptive, and frankly, a little pathetic in a man your age.”
He stared at a water ring on the polished wood, the shame from the icy bath still clinging to his skin. “It’s not something I can just turn off,” he muttered, the defensiveness in his voice sounding weak even to him.
“Of course you can,” Jen snapped, leaning forward so her shadow fell across his placemat. “Men in wars, men in prisons, they learn control.” She gestured vaguely toward the window. “You need a hobby. Something physical to burn off this… this energy.”
A bitter laugh caught in his throat. “Like what? Knitting?”
“The gutters are full of leaves from last fall,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ll start by cleaning them. Then you’ll mow the lawn, edge the sidewalk, and wash all the windows.” She sat back, folding her hands. “Every time you feel that… stirring… you’ll go outside and work until it passes. You’ll learn discipline.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but the memory of her scrubbing him raw with the washcloth sealed his lips. “Fine,” he said, the word tasting like ash.
“Good,” Jen said, a smile touching her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. “The ladder’s in the garage. Change into something… appropriate first.” Her gaze dropped pointedly to the rose camisole. “I won’t have the neighbors seeing you like that.”
Jen continued, her finger tapping the table for emphasis. "Discipline is what separates adults from animals, Kevin."
As Jen continued on, unbeknownst to her, Ashley sneaks under the table. She frees Kevin’s cock from his panties and takes it in her mouth.
The sudden, wet heat of her mouth made his thighs jerk violently, rattling the table legs as Jen droned above about respect and appropriate behavior. He tasted like soap and cold water from his bath, and Ashley worked him with a furious, rhythmic hunger, her hand cupping him tightly underneath.
The pressure built in his gut, a coiled spring he couldn’t stop, until her mouth vanished just as his hips jerked forward into empty air. She tucked his throbbing erection tightly back into his panties, the lace straining, and pressed a soft, mocking kiss against the damp fabric over his tip.
He pushed his chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor as he stood, and the unmistakable outline strained sharply against the pale lace. Jen’s eyes locked onto it, her lecturing smile vanishing into a flat, disappointed line. “Since obvious reminders aren’t working,” she said, her voice chillingly quiet, “there will be new measures tonight.”
The humid evening air felt heavy as lead as Jen laid out the fresh, pink satin panties and a matching nightgown on the bed. “Arms out,” she instructed, her voice devoid of its usual sweet tone as she secured the first fluffy, white mitten over his hand, pulling the strap tight at his wrist with a definitive snap.
She fastened the second mitten, the soft white fabric swallowing his hand completely. "These are to prevent you from touching yourself," Jen stated flatly, her eyes holding his as the absurdity of the fluffy restraints settled over the room.
The moment Jen’s footsteps faded down the hall, Ashley let out a low whistle, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she circled him. "Well, aren't you just the cutest little snowman," she said, poking one of the fluffy white mittens.
She pushed him backward onto the mattress, the fluffy mittens making him clumsy as he fell. Once in bed, she begins tickling his cock through his panties, her fingernails tracing light, torturous circles over the thin satin.
Ashley then pulled out a vibrator from the nightstand, its low hum filling the room as she began running it over the taut satin of his panties. He gave in, bucking his hips against the insistent vibration, and she leaned close, her whisper hot in his ear, "Good girl."
The hum intensified, pushing him toward that edge, and she pulled the vibrator back just enough to whisper, "Do you want your cock out of these panties?" He gasped a frantic "Yes," and she smiled, her voice cooling as she said, "Good girls keep their clits in their panties." She clicked the vibrator off, rolled over, and gave him a soft, final kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Kev."