The French Door

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The French Door

Post by storywriter23 »

The French Door

(First published in Clean Sheets Magazine, May 2006)


“You’re so close, aren’t you,” she said as she slowed the movement of her hips.

I whimpered, my muscles tight and quivering as I strained and throbbed deep inside her. I was right at the threshold, aching and desperate for relief.

“Stop!” I gasped.

She stopped. The gentle nibbling at my earlobe ceased and she bit just hard enough to draw me back from the edge.

“We could finish it now,” she coaxed.

I felt coolness as she lifted her buttocks for a moment before plunging down on me.

“Four or five strokes and it would all be over. It’d feel so good! Just one little word. That’s all it would take.”

“Never!” I forced the word through my teeth. “You’re not going to win.”


It had all started the previous day when we were redecorating the family room. My wife, Lia, was standing on a plastic covered stool rolling paint onto the ceiling and I was using a roller with an extension handle. We had started at opposite ends of the room and had just met in the middle. Cursing as another droplet of paint splattered my face, I stopped to stretch the kinks in my aching back.

“Growing older is no fun at all,” I said wincing from the pain.

“Oh, there are lots of compensations,” she smiled. “Now we’re retired, our time is our own. We’re still young enough to have fun and enjoy the grandkids. A little stiffness now and again is a small price to pay.”

“You’re right of course! We are lucky, but I do wish that I was less prone to stiffness in the back and more prone to stiffness in the front!”

She laughed and the smile lines around her grey blue eyes deepened. “Oh, we usually get there in the end and anyway I think it’s kinda nice to take our time. You’re always telling me that the journey’s at least as important as the destination!”

We put away our tools and drop cloths, stripped off and headed to the shower. As the steam billowed around us, I caressed Lia’s soft curves while she thoroughly soaped parts of me that couldn’t possible have been spattered with paint. I ran my hands over her thighs. “Muscles,” I said. “All that exercise is really paying off.” Lia walked everywhere around town, only using the car as a last resort. Recently she’d taken up weights to tone her limbs. A gifted cook, she’d struggled with her weight for much of her life. In recent years though, she’d finally achieved a happy balance which left her confident of her attractiveness while still being able to enjoy a good meal with a glass or two of wine. Lia struck a body-builder pose and I whistled appreciatively. It was late and it didn’t seem worth getting dressed again, so we settled for bath robes and a bottle of wine.

Lia raised her glass, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “We’ll do the walls tomorrow and then, while you paint the French door, I’ll do the trim.”

The French door, her pride and joy, separated the family room from the kitchen. The wretched thing had fifteen small windows with wooden lattice-work between them. When Lia had originally suggested a French door, I had argued strenuously for something simpler. Painting it took a mile of masking tape, a great deal of patience and hours of time.

“Oh come on!” I groaned. You know I only agreed to the French door because you promised you’d be the one to paint it.”

Lia feigned astonishment. “You mean to say you haven’t got over that little tantrum you had when we bought it?” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll have to paint it then.”

I poured us both another glass of wine and we snuggled, our free hands wandering under each other’s robes. It’s a curious thing, but I’ve noticed that when we’re both aroused, Lia is always able to think more clearly than I. Perhaps it’s all that blood migrating south and leaving my brain oxygen starved. She finished her wine and, gripping my balls firmly, she began stroking my shaft very slowly. Whatever was left of my critical faculties dissolved in a sea of lust.

“Tell me about your favourite sex scene,” she said as she tossed her blond hair, still fluffy from its recent towelling.

I stopped tonguing her hardened nipple long enough to utter a muffled “You’ve heard it all before.”

“Tell me again,” she insisted.

Reluctantly I put the tongue bath on hold and gathered my scattered wits. “I love it when you tease me mercilessly until I can’t hold out any longer, and then we have a mind-blowing fuck.”

She stopped her stroking and my arousal ebbed a little.

“I know you love being teased and held close to orgasm for a long time, but I don’t really like it. As soon as I get really close, I just want to finish it quickly.”

My erection sagged as I began to feel anxious.

“We’ve always been different that way, but I thought you were comfortable teasing me as long as you got to climax whenever the tension got too much you.”

Lia smiled reassuringly.

“Oh, I love teasing you. It’s just that I sometimes wonder about myself. I get so turned on by having orgasms while you’re denied them? Shouldn’t loving sex be all about sharing?”

“Well, I’m not really being denied,” I replied. “I know you’d finish me off any time I asked. I think it’s great that the scene turns you on and I love the huge bang I get at the end of a long tease. What could be more loving and sharing than that?”

“I suppose so,” she said uncertainly. “I just don’t like the idea that, subconsciously, I might be getting back at you for the little frictions and irritations in our relationship.”

I thought for a while, trying to understand.

“Do you feel we’re not talking things out properly so that you’re still feeling anger or resentment?” I asked cautiously.

“No, that’s not it. Sometimes it takes a while, but in the end we always get things sorted out”

“But talking things out can still leave you feeling that you’d like to hit me over the head with a pillow?” I hazarded.

“Yes! That’s it exactly. The issue might be resolved in my head, but I’d just feel better if I thumped you... without really hurting you of course.”

“Would you love me any less while you were thumping me with a pillow?” I asked.

“No, of course not. I’d just be releasing the last of my resentment.”

“Then perhaps playing at denying me sexually is the just another way of thumping me with a pillow?” I suggested.

Lia was quiet for a while, but then she resumed her gentle stroking and treated me to a big grin.

“OK! You’ve convinced me,” she said. “I won’t feel guilty about teasing you anymore! I was thinking we deserved a rest from painting. Why don’t we have a big tease tomorrow?”

“That’d be great!” I said gleefully.

“Do you think this fellah can hang on until tomorrow?” she said playfully patting my cock.

“If you can handle it, so can I,” I boasted.

“Well!” Lia said. “In that case, why don’t we make a bit of a contest out of it? We need an incentive that’ll make you want to resist my teasing as long as you can.”

She looked at my puzzled expression expectantly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“I know,” she said as if she’d just had an inspiration. “If you can hold out from now until bedtime tomorrow, say ten o’clock, I’ll paint the French door. If you can’t, then the job's yours!”

I’d been set up. She’d even given herself a head start by revving me up to the red line a day ahead while I’d barely started on her.

“But you agreed to paint the door when we bought it. What’s my incentive for taking the chance of being stuck with it?”

“You get to live out your fantasy all day long and we’ll have a great lovemaking sometime during the day. How can you lose?”

“I can lose by having to paint that horrible door,” I said gloomily.

Lia snuggled up to me, pressing her breast against me. “Come on! You know you’ll have a wonderful time and with your iron self-control, you’re not likely to lose,” she said, showing an unexpected talent for irony. “You’ll have such fun. We both will!”

“What if you accidentally put me over?” I asked.

“I’ll have to put you on your honour to tell me when you’re getting close so I can either stop for a bit or do a squeeze on you. You can’t masturbate either.”

“Right!” I capitulated. “You’re on! We’ll fight to the orgasm.”


It was still dark when I awoke to feel warm breath tickling my groin and a soft warmth enveloping me. I was on my back and Lia was giving me a heavenly, luxurious blow job. She noticed that I was awake and let go long enough to say, “I thought I’d get off to an early start!”

Remembering our contest, I reluctantly wriggled away from her.

“Oh no you don’t!” she said. “You agreed to submit to all my caresses. Just lie back and enjoy!”

For ten or fifteen minutes she licked and sucked, all the while fondling my balls. It felt wonderful. She kissed my lips, rolled over, and was soon asleep. I remained awake for quite a while until the erotic charge dispersed enough to let me nod off.

The clock radio woke me. She was already snuggled up behind me, gently stroking me. Half asleep, I drowsed for a while as pleasure infused me, then rolling over, I kissed her and started to leave the bed to get our morning coffee, juice and cereal; an inviolable daily routine. Hanging on to me, she protested.

“I’d like a little lovemaking before you go.”

“Well, I never turn down a request from my Lady,” I replied. I settled back into bed, and resting my head on her breast, I set myself to the enjoyable task of stroking her thighs and buttocks. The angle was awkward for her, but she continued to fondle me gently. After a while, things became hot and heavy and I slipped in from behind, barely thrusting while I stroked her clit. She moaned appreciatively, seeming to understand that I couldn’t manage hard strokes without losing control. As she became more aroused though, her restraint gave way to increasingly forceful movements. She came hard, gasping from the force of her climax, just as I desperately pulled out. I definitely wasn’t in good shape, but I had survived Lia’s first orgasm. We snuggled for a few minutes, my rigid, twitching penis pressed against her. I kissed her back and set off for the kitchen reflecting that the sexual slow-down that comes with age can very occasionally be a blessing.

We sat in bed enjoying breakfast and then played a round of backgammon while we finished coffee. Lia won and, delighted with her victory, ordered me to take off my robe and lie on my back. Anointing me with lube, she stripped off and sat astride me. With her labia parted, she pressed her clitoris to the sensitive part of my partially erect cock. She rocked and slid gently back and forth and as I stiffened, she pinched my nipples and stroked my chest. Her own nipples hardened and she brushed my lips with them in an invitation I was quick to accept. Lia watched my level of arousal carefully, slowing down when she thought I was close. My breathing must have given me away, for I certainly accentuated my usual groans of pleasure, hoping that she would ease up prematurely. Time and time again, she brought me to the edge and cooled me down until at last she came with a shuddering climax. Quickly lying on top of me she guided me into her and moved her bottom gently up and down while kissing my neck and nibbling my earlobes. I gripped her soft buttocks my whole body craving release. I was in deep trouble.


“Four of five strokes and it would all be over. It’d feel so good! Just one little word. That’s all it would take.”

“Never!” I forced the word through my teeth. “I’m not going to let you win.”

“That’s my brave husband,” she said, climbing off me. “I’m going to give you a little rest. We’ll take a shower and we’ll walk around the lake. By the way, do you mind if I shave the little bit of hair just to an inch or two below your belly button?”

“Whatever for?” I asked. There wasn’t much hair there, but it seemed a very odd request.

“Oh” Lia said airily, “I have a little toy I want to tape to you and I don’t want to pull your hair when we take the tape off.”

I was both intrigued and alarmed to hear this, but I didn’t probe any further. I would know all about it soon enough. In the shower, we washed each other’s backs and she shaved a narrow strip just below my navel. Then she had me lie on the bed and gently teasing me erect, she taped my penis to my abdomen with medical tape.

“I had to think hard about how I could make this work. The trouble with your penis is that it changes size so much. Do you think it will hurt you to be stretched if you lose your erection?” Lia asked with a worried expression on her face.

“No. As long as you don’t try to stretch it any longer than its fully erect length, it won’t hurt at all.”

She taped her vibrator it to the sensitive area just below the head of my penis.

“This is the one with a remote control,” she giggled. “I thought it might make our walk more interesting for you!”

“Isn’t the bulge going to show?” I asked in panic. “What if I cum?”

“I suppose you could drape your summer jacket over your arm in a nonchalant way if you need to hide anything,” she laughed.

Lia pocketed the remote control and we set off on our walk. At first nothing happened. We chatted and the expected buzz didn’t materialize. It was a lovely sunny day, and although my stretched and flaccid penis was a bit uncomfortable, I almost forgot about my predicament as we left the road and strolled beside the lake. That was when the buzzing started. Curiously, it didn’t make me erect, but the constant mild irritation drove me to distraction. It became hard to hold up my side of the conversation. She made sure there was no-one around and then added to my difficulties by fondling my buttocks.

“You know, teasing you is such a turn-on,” she said. “I’m going to need some relief from all this sexual tension when we get home.” She favoured me with a fiendish grin. “I bet you’ll be ready to join me in a rip-roaring orgasm.”

I maintained a stoic silence, trying to think of anything but the buzzing below my navel. We left the parkland and began to walk through busier parts of town. She lowered the intensity of the vibration but, by this time, I was in such a state that it didn’t help much. I suppose she didn’t want the buzzing sound to raise eyebrows.

“Let’s stop at the coffee shop for lunch?” Lia suggested.

I groaned. “Shouldn’t we get home quickly so you can get your sexual relief?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh, I think one always enjoys a meal more when one’s had a chance to build up an appetite,” she replied cryptically as she led the way into the coffee shop.

As we approached the counter, I had a nasty premonition that I was going to be zapped. The noise level in the coffee shop would certainly mask the sound of the vibrator. Just as it was my turn to be served, Lia revved the power up and down repeatedly. I managed to stutter out our order, while juggling my jacket and wallet and blushing furiously at the quizzical look on the girl’s face. I paid quickly, gathered the tray and made my way to our table, partly bent over to try to minimize the effect of Lia’s playfulness.

“Is your back sore you poor dear?” she crooned, as she turned off the instrument of my affliction. “You’re all hunched over. Tell me all about it!”

I glared at her, but held my tongue. I didn’t want to provoke her. She turned to the topic of our garden and our plans for new perennials and gradually my discomfort subsided a little. We started for home and were chatting amiably about a water feature we wanted to install when we ran into the very attractive daughter of a friend of Lia’s. The women talked animatedly while I stood to one side enjoying the woman’s sun-tanned breasts, delightfully showcased by her minimal sundress. Lia must have noticed my preoccupation out of the corner of her eye, because a very gentle tingle began again. The combination of visual and the tactile stimuli provoked a huge erection. I felt both wonderful and horribly frustrated. As we parted company, I couldn’t resist darting a look back at the swaying bottom astride endless legs. The power jolted briefly giving me a spasm of pleasure. I gasped.

“Naughty! Naughty!” Lia said. “What are you up to?”

I grinned at her cockily. “You always said that it didn’t matter where I got my appetite as long as I ate at home.”

She smiled her agreement and turned off the vibrator again.

“We don’t want you getting numb, do we,” she explained.


When we arrived home, she carefully removed the medical tape and sponged us both with a warm damp facecloth.

“Sixty-nine,” she announced cheerfully. “Me on top.”

I set to work with a will while she tongued my balls very gently. Lia was very aroused and it took only a few minutes running my hands over her pendulous breasts and swirling my tongue around her swollen bud before she was noisily invoking the deity. She came with a shuddering moan and collapsed beside me.

“Wow! That was really great,” she said. “I can’t remember ever being so horny.” She snuggled up, her head on my chest. “I’m really impressed at the way you’re holding on. Why don’t we call it a draw? I’ll put the masking tape on the door and you paint it.”

I thought for a few moments and then crushed her to me. “You really are the nicest of people! I wouldn’t want to do this very often, but I’m having a wonderful time and I’m thrilled that the whole thing is turning you on so much. I’d like to see it through, but I want you to know that after all you’re doing for me today, I’ll tape and paint your French whoever wins.”

“You’re a softy and I love you. But a deal’s a deal and if you want to carry on then I think we should keep to the original conditions. Expect no mercy!”

Lia stroked me gently for a while, and then propping herself up on one elbow, she studied my genitals.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so erect. The skin at the head is all shiny and purple and your balls are huge. How do you feel?”

“There’s a kind of stinging ache in my testicles… not severe, but persistent. I feel generally swollen and full. There’s a terrific tension and a need to be relieved. I crave your touch because it provides soothing relief, but at the same time it increases my need for release. It’s a delightful catch 22.”

“Well, let’s do a couple of hours gardening. I’ll give you a real rest so you can gather strength for the next round.”

We spent an enjoyable summer afternoon, puttering in the flowerbeds and true to her word, Lia did nothing further to stimulate me. As a reward for our labours, she brought us both long cold glasses of tonic water. After another victory at backgammon, Lia led the way to the bedroom where we both stripped. She plugged in our wand massager and stretched out on the bed, her bent legs apart and her head supported by 3 pillows. She ordered me to kneel between her legs and then pulled me close so my cock lay on top of her pussy. I was soon trembling and perspiring as she massaged me with nimble fingers and stimulated me with the vibrator. She spread a little lubricant on us both and drawing me as close as possible, she held my cock head on her clitoris and pressed us together with the vibrator head. The sensation was incredible, especially when she began small pelvic thrusts to increase the stimulation. I gasped with the intensity of the pleasure. Each time I drew close to ejaculating she removed the vibrator. As the sensation ebbed, she reapplied it asking me if I’d like to come. My refusals became increasingly desperate. Gasping, her face and chest flushed, she suddenly squeezed me firmly with her free hand while pressing down hard with the head of the wand. My cock convulsed uselessly in her tight grip as she groaned in the ecstasy of her onrushing orgasm. We lay close, holding each other as our breathing slowed and our thudding heartbeats quietened. My groin and lower abdomen were really uncomfortable. I was just coming to the conclusion that things had progressed beyond the point of enjoyment when she sat up and again examined me.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed. “You are in tough shape. I’ll just soothe you with a gentle massage. What can we do to take your mind off your troubles? Why don’t you suck on my nipples, you poor dear?”

I sucked like a man possessed as she continued teasing me. I sensed now that she’d keep going until I broke. She teased me to the edge with gentle sucking while massaging my perineum. She stopped just in time and my cock spasmed in vain. My balls felt as though they were ready to burst. My prostate was aching, my penis bloated and throbbing. I was completely consumed by lust. I’d had it.

“Enough,” I moaned. “Please let’s finish this.”

Lia pushed me on my back and guided me in. She pumped hard and fast. I gripped her buttocks desperately, my whole body tensing unbearably. My explosion was huge, almost painful in its intensity. Powerful spasms of pleasure wracked me and I lay there gasping, completely unstrung, my heart pounding. We held each other close, resting for a while. She kissed me softly. My muscles felt like jelly. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely relaxed.

“I love my wicked cock-teaser”, I murmured.

“I love my man, iron self-control and all”, she chuckled.

My last thought before drifting off was that perhaps painting the French door wouldn’t be so very bad after all.
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Re: The French Door

Post by locked4her55 »

Great story.

Makes me wish I had a door that needed painting. :lol:
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Re: The French Door

Post by storywriter23 »

Thanks '55. It was fun to write and partly true. Cheers, '23
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