Caged

"You're tense," her boyfriend said, rubbing her shoulders. "Why?"

"Sorry, I...it's nothing."

"Why?" asked again. His voice was even, calm, but with everything he did, it was in some way a command.

She turned and looked at him. "He...he's been moody lately," she said.

He said nothing for several minutes, instead continued to massage her shoulders, his strong hands relaxing her. Finally, he spoke. "I warned you about this," he said.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "I...I already stopped sleeping with him," she said, "it seems so...cruel to...to deny him that, too."

"Do you love him?" he asked as he worked his hands around her, into her bra, kneeded her breasts.

"Of course I love him," she said, purring, "he...he's my husband."

"Then you need to cage him," he said. "He thinks he needs to masturbate, he certainly wants to in the moment, but that's what's making him miserable."

"But it's harmless, he enjoys it. I just...if we don't have sex, why can't he have that?"

"He enjoys it in the moment, but it makes him question this, that's what makes him miserable. Caged, he'll focus on what he really treasurers. Not his orgasm, but you're pleasure, you're happiness."

"I...I don't know how to tell him," she said.

"You don't have to, I will."