Fantasy Talk Part 2 - A Package

We were kissing afterwards. Emily was in post-orgasm bliss, I was in denied orgasm frustration, the odd mix of sexual excitement, sexual frustration, and love I felt at times like this. As she softly kissed me, as our nylon covered legs touched, as her nylon covered crotch slowly rubbed against my caged, nylon covered clit, the cock discarded to the side, the feelings of femininity washed over me.

As I had told her earlier, part of me longed to be free, to be inside her, to feel the wetness and warmth surround me. But a larger part of me was grateful she wouldn't allow it, grateful she knew better than to confuse me by allowing me to experience, even for a few seconds, what it was like to be male.

She spread my legs, pushed against me, even in sensual post love making, she was on top, leading. "Was that just talk?"

"What?" I asked.

"Was that just sex talk or do you really fantasize about me sending the keys to your cage to Evan?"

"Em," I moaned.

"Well?" she asked, kissing me deeply, rubbing against me, nylon on nylon. "Were you just talking to get me all hot and bothered or do you really fantasize about my boyfriend being in charge."

"God, Emily," I swallowed.

"I mean, now, there's always a chance I'll unlock it. I miss it sometimes, touching it, watching it swell, knowing how badly you want it to last, knowing how quickly I can make it squirt."

"Hmmmmm," I moaned, felt the tightening. 

"But if Evan has it, well, who knows when he'd let us have it back. If he'd let us have it back. If he'd like having one of us ask. If he'd like saying no. If he'd like making sure you stay Sara, nothing more."

"It's...it's fantasy."

"Just fantasy? Or more? Should I send them to him, tell him they belong to him, now. That I can't be trusted, that you can't be trusted, that you want him to be in charge of not just my sex life, but yours, too. Is it just pillow talk or more?"

I bit my lip, tried not to speak, but couldn't stop myself. "More," I blurted out.

"Hmmm," she kissed me. "I imagine it's comforting knowing the keys are here. But what if they weren't? There'd never be tipsy sex where I get weak and unlock it, the keys would be gone, out of town, held by my boyfriend, who, I suspect, would be happy knowing you're safely locked up, knowing this will never be used unless he agrees."

"Is this just fantasy, Emily?"

"No, Sara, no, no, more, more. When you were licking me, all I could think about was giving them to him. Sending them in the mail or bringing them when we meet, telling him these belong to him now."

"For...for how long?"

"Until I visit him to start, but we'd see, maybe longer. I don't know."

"You asked him."

"I mentioned it. He's my boyfriend; we talk. I mentioned the longer you wear it, the more feminine you feel."

"Is this fantasy, Emily?"

"Yes. No. Both. Until I visit him. He could have them tomorrow."

"Just till then?"

"I don't know," she said. "He's a man, Sara, men do what they're going to do. I'm sure I could convince him; men are fairly convincible when a woman is on her knees, sucking his cock. But I don't know; it's a risk."

"A risk you won't ask or a risk he'll say no."

"Both, I guess," she said.

"Is this fantasy or real?"

"Real," she said. "You?"

"R...real," I swallowed.

"It's only a month," she said.

"Maybe," I said.

"True," she kissed me. "So, should I tell him to expect a package?"

She reached between us, cupped me, toyed with me, teased me. "Yes," I mumbled. "Yes."

"He'll like it," she said. "And so will we."