Squealed ~ A Love Story

I have written a short story very much inspired by the Masturbation Monday header photo by David Mei. Copyright David Mei ~ Erotic musings of a middle aged geek

See my ring?

Thrilled I was.

She gave it to me, green eyes shining,  and said, “I love you, wear my ring?”

Pam was all I ever wanted and I’d been dreaming of such a moment for a few months and yeah, in case you were wondering, it was romantic. Not only that, but the ring fitted perfectly. I put it on and she squealed with delight, jumping up and down.

“I have one the same.” she boasted slipping it on her finger. “That means you’re mine now,” Pam whispered dreamily.

I smiled thinking that she was bound to be up for sex that night. I was right. Horny as hell. We fucked in the living room first. She squealed. Once in the bedroom I spread her legs and rammed her, over and over. As I shot my Jizz inside her cunt she squealed again for good measure.

A few days after Pam had to work late. Being a free lance hairdresser meant adhering to the client’s wishes. Maybe an evening make-over or helping someone get ready for a hot date.

I was relaxing on the sofa watching a bit of online porn. Like you do. The scene was hot. This guy had his bird in some kind of warehouse, arms high, tied to the rafters. She was naked so he had access to anything he wanted. He settled for fucking her arse, from behind. His hand clamped over her mouth so any noise she made was muffled. Well, did it for me.

Got my cock out and started teasing it with my finger tips. Then clasping it tight I jerked the skin back and forth a little. And you know what? The ring seemed to have a slight ridge on the underside that dug into my knob in just the right place. It felt like nothing I knew. I kept massaging so it repeatedly hit that spot. Then while the girl in the video was biting down on the geezers fingers I came so hard even the neighbours could have heard me squeal.

Pam came home later when I was about to go to bed. Looking into the bedroom mirror she ritually brushed her long red hair.  I told her the ring was boss. She turned and kissed me.

“So glad. Don’t ever take it off. Cause if you do the spell of us will be broken.”

I laughed. She always over dramatised. But the next day when I was having a leisurely bath her words came to mind. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to remove it while I was bathing? I didn’t want to upset her but she’d never know.

Using the soap as lubrication I attempted to pull it down my finger. It looked like it was about to go over the knuckle but just wouldn’t. Tight fit for sure. I kept trying for a few weeks then gave up.

Meanwhile Pam became exceedingly clingy and more needy. I knew she had trust issues but she started accusing me of cheating and asking so many questions. I couldn’t work out if I was coming or going. In the past I’d been a bit of a tart. But I was kosher now. All hers. Well I was until this nagging began to wear thin.

One day after another argument I got up to leave. I was going to walk out. Simply had enough. She squealed loudly,

“You won’t make it past the gate. Don’t you remember you’re mine. The rings bind us together.”

Silly bitch I thought. But as I tried to turn down the road I could feel myself sliding back. As if I was magnetized in some way.

Weeks past and I tired more than once to go. Pam was crazy with paranoia and I knew until she could trust me the woman was no good to anyone, so I told her. Crying she explained it was the rings that kept me from leaving. Out of pure desperation she’d had a binding spell put on them. Couldn’t bear to lose me.

That night, while she squealed, I cut off both the rings but made a pact with her – to trust me. If she could learn to do that we wouldn’t need rings. Just each other.

Slowly as the months past by,  she did. One night when I knew she had worked hard to change and had turned a corner I held her close and asked,

“Pam, will you be my wife. I love you.”

“Oh fuck, YES,”  she squealed. “But no rings.”