Rules of Engagement

Amanda Fox

"I wanna suck your cock," I said. Kipp and I were sitting next to each other in a back booth at Denny’s.

Kipp’s eyes got big. "Really?"

"Yep." Under the table, I ran my hand mischievously over his fly.

"When? Now?”

“Not now. I think we should start on Monday.”

“What do you mean ‘start’?” Among other things, I’d been sucking Kipp’s cock for months by then.

“Well, I want to suck it for a week.”

"Straight?" Kipp nearly choked on his toast.

"Like that would be possible." I squeezed his thigh. “I do have to work, you know. And so do you.”


“Oh, and you won't be allowed to cum."

"Whoa… Wait a minute. You mean, you’re going to suck my cock on and off for a week straight and I won’t ever be allowed to cum? That sounds painful.”

“Maybe a little.”

"Do you play these kinds of games with Harry?” His eyebrows lifted.

“No. Harry’s a regular sex kinda guy.”

“But you want to do this with me?”



“There’s just something about you,” I paused. “So what do you think?”

Kipp looked like he was hurting already. “I don't know."

"Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I won’t cum either.” I thought about my pussy all swollen and moist, filled with so much blood that I could barely walk, barely move.

Stroking contemplatively over the stubble on his chin, Kipp replied, "I guess it could work."

"Damn right, it could work. And by the end, you’re gonna feel so fuckin' fantastic that you’ll be bending over backwards to thank me."

“We’ll see about that.”

“There are lots of different ways of giving head you know.” I’d done my homework.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ever heard of the ‘bait and switch’?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

As we walked out to the car, I proceeded to educate Kipp on the various methods of sucking dick.

"So, we start on Monday?” He opened the driver side door, hesitating before climbing inside, his hand tapping the roof nervously.

“Harry’s going away on business so that would work perfect. It’ll give me more time to meet with you.”

In truth, when I’d mentioned it to Harry, he’d liked the idea. “I don’t know why you’d wanna do something like that, but hey, whatever floats your boat. I’m just glad you have Kipp. He can bear the brunt of your little torture experiments. My poor penis couldn’t handle that kind of thing anyway. And if you do it while I’m away, then you can suck his cock as often as you want and it won’t affect our time together.”

“So is Monday gonna work for you?” I looked over at Kipp, admiring his handsome face, eager to get things started.

“I guess Monday’s as good a day as any,” he complied.

“OK. Monday it is. Oh, yeah – one more thing.” I got in the car and buckled my seatbelt. “When we’re not together, you can’t play with yourself either.”

“You didn’t say that before.”

“Well, I’m saying it now. Think you can handle it?”

“I can handle anything, baby.”

“And you’d better not do it and then lie to me. I’d be able to tell.”


“And if you lied to me, that’d be it.”


“For us. You know – done, over, ‘fini’ – like we’ll never fuck again. Or at least, I’ll never suck your cock again. Get it?”

“You’re the boss, Lauren.”

“I am, aren’t I?” The coming week was sure to be interesting.

* * *

Harry’s flight was scheduled to leave 8:30 Monday morning. “Now don’t forget. The guy is coming to check the pool tomorrow between noon and six. Oh, and could you pay that parking ticket I got outside the bank the other day?” He kissed me hard on the lips. “Have fun this week and try not to make Kipp cry.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep. You know that,” I laughed. “Have a safe flight and call me when you get to the hotel.”

“Love you.” With his suitcase in one hand and his laptop bag over his shoulder, Harry crossed the threshold of our marital domain, shutting the door with a poignant thunk.

An hour later – a free woman – I decided to stop and see Kipp on my way to work. When I got there, the construction site was already buzzing with activity, men in hard hats and work boots milling about everywhere. Walking into the trailer, I saw Kipp sitting sideways on the edge of his desk. “Hey,” I said.

“Two seconds, OK?” He was on the phone.

“Take your time.” As Kipp finished his call, I surveyed the man I’d been “seeing” on a regular basis for the last six months. As head of his own company, Kipp was smart and personable, and although he no longer did much physical labor himself, he still kept in shape. With a rugged, “I could cripple you” kind of body, I’d known that Kipp would be the perfect lover the moment I saw him. I was also blessed that Kipp had the penis of a god – a relatively long, thick appendage that threatened to break a girl in half. Furthermore – and this is where I got really lucky – not only was Kipp a nice guy, but he was also amenable to open relationships without being a man whore. A recent divorcee looking to satisfy his sexual needs, he was willing to share me with my husband, to know my husband even.

Now by the time that fortuitous Monday had rolled around, I’d given Kipp more than his fare share of blowjobs, and I will say that things between us were verging on becoming “regular”. For me – a woman who’d gone looking for someone to help take her sex life to the next level – this meant that more spice was definitely in order.

“So what are you doing here?” Off the phone at last, Kipp walked over to where I stood and grabbed me around the waist. “I thought we were on for dinner later.”

“Yes. We are.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure, then?”

“I needed to do something.”

I’d begun unbuttoning my suit jacket to reveal a silk, sage green camisole. Kipp was watching my fingers intently. “What did you need to do?”

“You’ll see.”

“How come you’re not wearing a bra?” He ran his thumbs simultaneously over the outline of each pert nipple. “Somebody might come in here, you know. Joe and I were just about to…”

I cut him off. “I’ll be quick.” Unzipping his khakis, I reached in and pulled his semi-erect penis out through the slit in his boxers. “Nice underwear,” I said, ogling his member. I didn’t think I could ever get enough of Kipp’s cock.

“Thanks. You gave them to me, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Raising my skirt slightly, I got down on my knees. “You are always so ready for me.” Clamping my hand tight, I gave his penis a few pumps.

“I like that,” he sighed. “I like that a lot.”

“I’m glad.” Taking him carefully into my mouth so as not to set him off without warning – I mean, who knew what performing fellatio in such a public place might do – I tongued around and around the length of his post, up and down, up and down, until he was as hard as the heels on my pumps, until – without support – he was pointing straight out, parallel to the floor.

“Wow, Lauren. That’s… Oh, god.”

“Remember the rules,” I slurred, still laving his rod.

Gripping my head – his hands tangled in my hair – Kipp lined himself up and shoved his staff into my mouth with such force that I nearly choked. Sensing that he wouldn’t last long, I let him stutter into me for a few more seconds then I pushed him away. “You have to get back to work,” I said, tentatively caressing his balls, his cock aglow and pulsing like a hand-held flare.

“Yeah, I see Joe coming.” Watching out the window, Kipp haphazardly stuffed his penis back into his pants and raced around to sit in the chair behind his desk.

Readjusting my clothing, I reached for the door just as Joe came in. “Sorry,” I said, accidentally bumping him as I moved past.

“Thanks for coming,” Kipp called after me. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Who was that?” I heard Joe say.

“No one you need to know,” I chuckled to myself. And with that, the week had begun. Fortunately for Kipp, that night I let him have his dinner in peace, and it wasn’t until Wednesday that I took to toying with his libido again.

* * *

“I’m glad you suggested this movie. I’ve been wanting to see it for weeks now.” Genuinely excited about the film, Kipp held my hand and swung my arm happily as we walked toward the theatre, seemingly oblivious as to why I may have invited him out in the first place. Had he forgotten about our arrangement?

Inside, it was relatively quiet, as I’d proposed we meet for an early show. “I like to sit right up at the top.”

“Not the middle? That’s the best spot.”

“Keep going.” I pushed him up the stairs, squeezing his ass.

Stopping two rows from the very back, Kipp turned around. The light bulb had come on. “You wouldn’t dare? Not here. There are people.”

“People schmeople. They are way down ‘in the middle’.”

“Can’t we at least wait until after, when we’re in the car?”

“Oh, Kipp. Stop being such a baby,” I chided, slapping at his bottom. “You’re gonna like it.”

Sitting in the farthest corner, I snuggled in close to Kipp for the first hour or so of the movie. Then, during a particularly loud action scene, I got out of my seat and crouched on the floor in front of him. “Hold on.” He laid his jacket over his lap.

Beneath the makeshift tent, I fumbled with his zipper. “Slide forward a bit.”

“There,” he grunted. And once exposed – albeit awkwardly – I concentrated on just the head of his organ, fluttering and flicking my tongue across every crevice and skin fold. When I detected a subtle thrusting in his hips, I devilishly inserted the very tip of my tongue repeatedly in and out of his pee hole. At this, Kipp could barely keep still.

Now maybe it was simply the excitement of having me do such a wicked deed right there in the movie theatre, or maybe it was that, in combination with what I’d already done to him on the Monday. Whatever it was, all of a sudden, Kipp began to shake uncontrollably – his legs, his arms, his whole body seemed to go into spasm. Immediately, I moved my head away from his private parts and rested my hands on his knees, waiting for him to settle. When at last he had, I quietly got back into my seat and sat facing the screen. It wasn’t until the movie was over and all the credits had rolled, that we attempted to make our escape.

“Geez, I don’t know what happened to me in there. I’m sorry.” Kipp seemed worried.

“You don’t have to be sorry. We’re just having fun.”

“Yeah, fun.” In the fading sunlight, he appeared almost green.

“I’m out with the girls on Friday, so we won’t see each other until Saturday,” I said to Kipp on the drive home. For fear that he might spontaneously combust, I didn’t dare try for more action, though it had been my original plan to give Kipp more than three measly blowjobs over the course of the week.

“All the better,” Kipp replied. “Saturday is the last day of your ‘regime’.” He said it like I was Hitler. “Whatever happens, I’ll know that on Sunday, it’ll all be over. You did say Sunday, right?”

“You poor, poor man.” I leaned over and kissed him sympathetically on the cheek.

Saturday night, Kipp showed up at my house walking with a pronounced hitch. “Are you OK?” I asked.

“Never better,” he groaned sarcastically.

“You’d better sit down.” I lead him into the living room and helped him onto the couch. “I have a treat for you. At least, it is meant to be a treat.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

“I’ll get you a drink first. Would you like some wine or a beer?”

“Just a glass of water. I’m going to need to keep my wits about me, I fear. If I don’t, there’s no telling what I might do.”

“Sounds like you’re in rough shape.” I sauntered off toward the kitchen, purposefully wiggling my bum.

“I’ll survive,” he called after me.

Returning with two big glasses, I put them on the coffee table and sat across from him in a large, over-sized chair. “Pull your pants down,” I commanded.


“Pull your pants down. And your underwear too.”


“It’s part of the treat.”

“Some treat, I’ll bet.” Despite his rancor, I watched Kipp slide his jeans and boxers dutifully past his hips.

“Wow. You’re like a freakin’ rocket.” He penis was sticking straight up.

“I’ve been hard since you came to visit me at work on Monday.”

“Well, this should be fairly easy for you. All you have to do is watch. And keep your hands out of your lap. Sit on them if you have to.”

“I thought this week was all about blowjobs.”

“We’ll get to that. I want to see what this does to you first.”

“What ‘what’ does to me?”

“Patience, my dear.” Reaching underneath my chair, I pulled out a shoebox containing a mammoth-sized, glass dildo. Placing it on the cushions beside me, I then began unbuttoning my shirt.

“You just want to see how far you can push me, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, unclasping my brassiere. “You do like to watch me play with myself, don’t you?” I slid off my pants and underwear, and sat with my legs spread.

“You know I do.”

My nether lips already as engorged as Kipp’s penis, I slowly, ardently poked at my vagina with the dildo, pushing it in a little, then drawing it back out, pushing it in some more, then drawing it out with the utmost care. Next, with my heels tucked in and my knees splayed as wide as they would go, I shoved the toy to the very end of my passage and rotated it around and around in small, solicitous circles.

“Had I known you were such an evil woman, I would never have gotten involved with you.” Kipp’s penis wavered, a baton with a mind of its own.

Leaning back, I then gave the fake dick a few good rams. “I am aching so bad right now.”

Contractions were starting to build.

“I can help ease that pain if you’d like.”

“You know we can’t do that. That would be going against the rules.” Removing the hefty obelisk, I hastened over to perch beside Kipp on the couch, my mouth open over his penis. “But I know something I can do.” I lifted my ass as if I was hoping someone – anyone – would take me from behind and put me out of my misery. “Are you going to be OK?” Secretly, I was asking myself the same question.

“No, but go ahead. Do me a favor though? Don’t use your hands.” Gently, I tongued around the rim of his cock, about ready to swallow him whole, when Kipp shouted, “I have to get out of here.” He jumped up, nearly knocking me over.

“We can watch television.” I didn’t know what to say.

“I can’t be near you. I’ve gotta go home and have a cold shower – an ice-cold shower.” He yanked up his pants and scrambled his way to the front door, his erect penis flopping about through the open fly. When he took off without kissing me goodnight, I wondered if I’d gone too far.

* * *

The next morning at eight, my phone rang. “Hello.”

“Hi.” It was Kipp.


“Did I wake you?”


“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call so early. It’s just that I’ve been up all night.”

“Oh dear.”

“I need to come over – now.” His desperation was evident.

“I guess I’ve put you through enough agony for one week. Can you give me an hour?”

At 8:59, I heard the knock, loud and insistent. As soon as I opened the door, it was as if I was under attack - Kipp lunged at me, his hands like vice grips on my shoulders, his mouth agape and eating at my face. Stopping momentarily to breathe, he growled, “Take it out. I need you to suck it.”

Suddenly, I too was overwhelmed by the week’s events and I couldn’t get his pants undone fast enough. “Yes...” I cried, fighting with his belt to wrench off his jeans.

Once freed, Kipp held his penis out to me, his hand in a stranglehold at its base. “Do it.” He meant business.

“My pleasure…” I purred.

The moment my lips touched his organ, Kipp heaved forward, thrusting to the very back of my throat. Grabbing his ass, I tried to gain some control but it was damn near impossible. His size and strength were too much and I was forced to take him in all his glory, whether I could handle it or not.

Feeling his determination – his fury – in the firmness of his muscles made me want to quench my own desire. It made me want to put something deep inside my pussy – or in the very least, to rub at my clit. So saying, I tried to let go with one hand, but I couldn’t. Kipp would’ve taken off my head.

All hell breaking loose, he bucked at my face and bawled, “Fuck yeahhhh…” It was a full on assault, Kipp spewing a warm copious custard that slid down my throat and oozed out through the spaces at the sides of my mouth, a madness that persisted for what seemed like an eternity. At last – when he’d surged and shuddered and squirted out every last bit of his seed – Kipp swerved his hips in a wave of reverence and gratitude. Only then did he retreat. “That was fucking amazing, Lauren,” he murmured.

“Kipp, come on. We’re not finished yet.” Standing, I pressed into him with my breasts and groin, hoping – praying – that he’d return the favor. “Just lick me or something. Jam your hand inside.”

“Ah, no… You’re on your own, baby,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead and fixing his clothing. “I’ll see you in a few months.” He reached for the door.

“A few months? Are you kidding?”

“Tell Harry, good luck. He’s gonna need it.”

“But I want you...” I wailed, on the brink of insanity.

Steadfast, he shook his head. “Can’t. Gotta go.”

“Fuck!” I yelled. And without so much as a backward glance, I raced up to my bedroom, took the glass dildo out from its box beside my bed, and proceeded to joust myself with it, simultaneously scouring at my nub until I’d climaxed a good three or four times, on each round discharging a vociferous howl of unfettered euphoria.

Afterward, as I lay exhausted in a pool of my own sweat – my legs askew and the debased dildo posted against my thigh – I heard some movement down by the front door. “Bye, Lauren.” It was Kipp. “I’ll call you next week.” He hadn’t left after all.

“Bastard,” I mumbled, completely incapacitated. “Now you’re really gonna get it.” Little did he know, with his stunt, he’d just raised the bar.