So my first post was quite a blast, and I had so much fun writing it that, between the dopamine rush of karma, the sheer nostalgia of it, and the fact that I have an year’s worth of crazy stuff to write about, the follow-up practically wrote itself. (Technically I have like, what, 15 years’ worth of crazy stuff, but the ones involving me and Caitlyn are definitely some of the best, and we were together for about one year, and I’ve only just begun!)
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So if you’ve read my [last post](https://old.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ijdub5/my_postbreakup_revenge/), you’ll remember that I got teased and denied into dropping the hugest load I’ve ever dropped. Caitlyn, the real hero(ine) of that story, did it to ensure I’d do it at *just* the right time for maximum revenge points — neither me nor her were really into the whole teasing thing, but it was for a good cause!.
Which, of course, I absolutely loved and appreciated and I will be forever in her debt and I knew it then, too. However, good though her intentions might have been, she’d awoken the teasing monster. Besides, no good deed goes unpunished!
So here’s the story of what came out of *that* good deed :).
Important background, otherwise a very cool bit won’t make too much sense: Caitlyn was an honours student and she was *very* well-organised. I did very well in school, too, but I didn’t care about the grades as much and honestly enjoyed learning way more than going to school per se, so I was pretty messy with my studies. I missed way more classes than I’m comfortable admitting. Sometimes, if I thought the teacher was just parroting what the books said, I would barely take any notes. And, while I didn’t really slack off during the semester, I crammed a lot, especially after I started working full time.
Not Caitlyn. Caitlyn was *really* careful with these things. She had like ten markers of different shapes and colours and all her notes were neatly organised and she had tiny post-its scattered throughout them all. These post-its had various things scribbled on them, and various signs, like tiny stars, smilie faces and whatever. She reviewed her notes from the week every Saturday, Sunday, or Monday, depending on drunkenness and hangover intensity, and occasionally went through them again during the week, if she had some free time. She hated cramming before exams.
I thought the drawings on her post-its were random doodles so at one point, mostly to mess with her, but also because I really liked how she could swing between quirky, cute, and sick pervert and back to cute in five seconds, I drew something cute and silly on one, a pink heart or something of that sort. Which turned out to be a really terrible idea because “pink heart” was how she labeled “need to review this with the TA” for some uncanny reason, and I was sternly told never to draw anything on her post-its. Ever. Again.
However, I still thought it was cute, and I just *knew* she thought so, too. So instead I took to writing small messages. Drawings messed things up but between the content and my handwriting it would be obvious they were from me. I’d write them either on the back of her post-its or on post-its that I’d sneak into her notes myself. Things like “I love you” or “You’re cute” or “I like your smile” or whatever — neither of us was really the cheesy, romantic type, but it felt cute (might have deleted later. Sorry, couldn’t resist the pun.)
This went on for a couple of weeks (I think I’d started doing it even before the revenge event from my last post?) and it was already pretty well-established, but it was starting to get a bit old. So I thought I’d rehash it a bit.
Halloween was approaching fast at this point, and we had some silly inside joke about how she’d buy a really ugly witch costume and put on some really bad make-up, just to see if I *really* liked her personality or if it was just her looks that I was into.
So one Friday evening I go to pick her up and, with some James Bond-style action, I manage to sneak one of my post-its in her notes. This one didn’t say “I love you” or anything like that…
…it said “I’m gonna destroy your pussy, witch!”
(Please don’t judge, yes? Remember I was like 20 at the time. This was very much peak dirty talk for us at the time.)
Well, Halloween was almost here (or it was already Halloween, I can’t really recall?) and on that fateful day we were supposed to go to some Halloween-themed party, which both of us kindda dreaded. My parents, bless their soul, figured Halloween would be a good time to let me have the house to myself. That quickly settled the problem of whether we’d be going to the party or not. We decided we’d go out for drinks, just the two of us, and then go back to my place.
So it’s about 6 or 7 in the afternoon and I’m about to go pick up Caitlyn so that we can go out for drinks, scare the little kids and go back to my place when the loud music starts. I put my fancy date clothes on (nice shirt, jeans I’ve actually washed this week, whatever) and I’m about to go pick my keys, when the doorbell rings and guess who’s there.
Yep. Caitlyn, wearing a very cute black dress (not Halloween-themed or anything, just a nice dress) with a big bag of clothes in one hand and a broom in the other one (she’s a witch, you see!). I thought I could see where this was going, what with the broom and all. Spoiler alert, I definitely couldn’t see where this was going.
She walks into the room like she owns the place and in that sweet innocent voice of hers she just tells me, you know what, sorry, I was really bored and I couldn’t wait anymore. I shrug and kiss her and I’m really glad she’s here early, honestly. And, being the gentleman that I am, I tell her she looks just lovely in that dress (which she absolutely did!), which is where the *real* story begins.
She blushes a bit when I tell her about the dress, but shrugs it off. “You wait ’till you see the witch costume,” she says. “I’m gonna go in your room and change, wait here.”
I’m tempted to tell her she can just change here but I imagine she had something planned (spoiler alert: fuck yes she had something planned) and I didn’t want to ruin it. So I make myself comfortable on the couch (context: the couch had its back towards a hallway, and my room was at the end of said hallway) and brace myself for a good half an hour of waiting, knowing Caitlyn and her very meticulous approach to getting dressed.
Not this time. I hear her sneaking up behind me after less than a minute and I’m wondering how come it took so little time.
Well, it’s because her witch costume consists of nothing but the post-it I wrote, stuck to her forehead. That, and the broom — she looks at me with very menacing eyes and says “okay, now destroy it!”
Now normally I would have absolutely destroyed it but remember I was on a mission here (which she was about to find out real soon, too). So I walk up to her, *slowly and carefully remove the stupid broom for her hand* because I’m not risking anything, drag her over to the couch and, once my clothes are off, too, I’m lying on top of her, kissing her neck and her breasts and the line of her stomach.
I take my sweet time before doing it, but within a couple of minutes I’m burying my tongue in her salty, warm pussy and she’s wriggling on my couch. My hands are still on her breasts, playing with them, and I playfully pinch her hard nipples — I’m expecting a light moan but I hear a desperate-sounding “fuck yeah!” and I feel her shaking under my hands (what *that* led to is for another time though).
She’s so wet by now that I’m almost sorry I’m not going to let her finish. I slide two fingers inside her while my tongue is all over her clit, and right when I hear her slipping an “oh yeah, don’t stop” between her moans, yep…
…I stop and, pinching her nipples once more, I put my cruel face on and whisper “not until the clock strikes midnight, witch!”
At this point I’m pretty happy I put that broom away because she’s getting up and she doesn’t seem too happy, but I get to drag her back. She’s sitting on my lap, and my hand is between her thighs, and she’s grinding against me but I’m not letting her have it. She’s mumbling some sort of profanity but all I get to say in reply is, yep, “not until the clock strikes midnight.”
“You realize you’re gonna pay for this sooner or later,” she hisses at me, and I’m pretty sure I will but, yep, that’s for another time, too.
It’s only now that I realize the predicament *I* am in though. It’s nowhere near midnight at this point, and I have this beautiful woman in my room, naked, still grinding her hips in my lap, and *I* have to keep saying no. I have absolutely no fucking clue how she did this and made it look so easy. Also, what the fuck do we do until midnight?
Fortunately, the damn post-it — which is now resting next to me on the couch — gives me an idea. So I’m hugging her closely and kissing her back, and seemingly out of the blue, I ask her if any clothes are actually in that bag she brought. And she stands up and with the most hateful look I’ve ever seen she just says, yeah, there’s an actual witch costume in there, in case we’d go to the party. Maybe we should just go to the stupid party now!
Obviously, I know we’re *not* going to the party and she knows it too, so I just play along: “okay, I don’t know about the party, but I really wanna see how that *other* witch costume looks on you!”
So she takes the witch… thing out of the bag, and it’s a pretty elaborate costume with several pieces. I saw all of them but honestly I can’t even begin to name them, I can barely name five types of modern-day clothes, they’re all skirts, dresses, shirts, t-shirts and blouses to me. So all those… things? are just piled there on a chair and all I can blurt out is are you really putting all that stuff on?
She playfully shrugs and says, “well, not *all* of it, I can skip some of them?” And since fashion isn’t exactly my strong point but I know I enjoy seeing her naked, I suggest we just skip all of them, except for a sort of thin belt that you’re supposed to tie in a knot around your waist (I have no idea what it’s called but it looks great on curvy hips :P), a green cloak and, well, the proverbial witch hat. Which was pretty awful if we’re being honest but I couldn’t pass up on the chance of saying you can leave your hat on.
Have you ever seen someone wearing nothing but a velvet cloak and that tiny string tied around their waist? Let me tell you, it’s *hot*. At this point I wasn’t really sure who was teasing who anymore. The cloak — one of those wannabe medieval cloaks, that you tie with a cord below the neck — barely managed to cover her breasts and left everything below them quite exposed. I tugged at the string tied around her waist and slowly got her to come back in front of the couch, and I buried my face in her chest as she started breathing faster and faster.
“You’re just going to wind me up again, aren’t you,” she complained, and before I could say anything, she just went ahead and said it — “yeah, yeah, not before the clock strikes midnight. You’re so gonna pay for this.”
Soon enough I’m sitting on the couch and she’s on top of me, and she’s so wet and hot I can feel the warmth in my lap. Her voice is getting hoarse and she’s gritting her teeth. “Can you do that nipple thing again,” she whispers in my ear, “if you’re gonna tease me like that at least fucking do it right!”
Caitlyn had, hands down, the most beautiful nipples I’d ever, ever seen. She didn’t have to ask twice. I let my fingers do some work, but I’m not pinching them this time — soon enough, I’m (not very) gently biting them, with my lips wrapped around my teeth so that I don’t bite *into* them.
I sense her back arching, then her nails dig into my shoulders. It’s a little painful but I don’t mind it, it feels good. I ask her if it hurts and she can’t really say anything, but she gestures “no” with her head, biting her lips. Then I lay back, gently lift her breasts by the nipples, and let them fall down again. She lifts her pelvis, arching, then straightening her back…
…and — great aim, I gotta say! — slides right down onto my cock.
I don’t really know if it was deliberate (it’s hard to tell surprise from genuine excitement, you know?) but it didn’t really match my plans. In for a penny, in for a pound, though: I put my most devilish smile on, whisper “nice try”, and slowly lift her up again. She’s kicking me and piling all her weight on my hands but, but after a little struggling, she’s in my lap again and my cock is resting (?) against her thigh. She kisses me, takes my head between her hands, looks me right in the eye, and says “Gordon, whatever you have in mind for when that fuckin clock strikes whatever the fuck it’s supposed to fucking strike it had better be good or I’m going to fucking end you.”
And without saying a word she gets up, takes off the cloak, throws it on the table and sits back next to me on the couch, with her arms crossed. I try to say something but she shushes me like she’s watching something important on TV.
We sit like that, in silence, for I’m not sure how long — 10, 15 minutes, maybe more — during which she playfully punches me in the shoulder every once in a while. Then she gets up and without saying a single words she nervously grabs that broom she’d brought and runs into my room, slamming the door behind her. It takes me a little to realize that she might be, um, undoing my plan by herself, so I try to follow her.
But before I’m halfway through the hallway the door opens again, and there’s Caitlyn with the clock I had on my nightstand, triumphantly showing me it’s past twelve (of course, it’s *not* past twelve, she just set it a few hours ahead). “There, it struck midnight, now where’s my prize?”
I wanted to say something about how it’s obviously not even nine but I couldn’t finish. She wouldn’t have anything of the sort and, instead, threw the fucking clock at me (naked and horny as I was I couldn’t even dodge it). “Don’t you fucking play games with me, it’s twelve and I got a clock to prove it and I swear to god I’m shoving this broom up your ass if I hear anything else about that stupid clock.”
At the time, I didn’t have a “don’t stick your dick in crazy” policy, but it really wasn’t warranted, either — it sounds way worse than it was. It was actually very playful and cute. Plus, remember, this is a tiny, curvy, beautiful woman with the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard trying to look all bossy, so in addition to all that, it was *fucking hot*.
So it should probably come as no surprise that I just fucking lost it. I threw myself at her and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around me and I slid into her long before we got anywhere near the bed. I didn’t so much lay her on the bed as threw her unto it, and I was on top of her, holding her hands above her head, thrusting my cock into her warm, dripping pussy, in what seemed like the blink of an eye. She’s moaning in my ear and asking me to go harder, and harder, and I’m slamming myself against her as hard as I can, when I feel her dig her fingers in my back once again and her eyes are rolling in her head and she’s mumbling incoherently. A few seconds later, she’s gently pushing against my hips to make me go slower again.
I slow down and I realize she’s way too sensitive right now so I kiss her glowing face and lay down next to her and hug her, patiently waiting for round two. Plus it’s been pretty intense and I’m a bit exhausted.
So she’s just staring at the ceiling and when she finally catches her breath, she chuckles and says whoa, I had no idea all it took was a credible threat that I’d shove the broom up your ass.
And this, dear reader, is when I thought I’d put on a rough show, but I got checkmated. Not that I regret anything.
So I turn on my side, facing her, grab her chin and turn her face towards me the way you see punks do it in films, and with the most credible punk voice I can conjure, I tell her something along the lines of “threaten me again and I’ll shove something else up your ass.”
And at this point she just casually gets up, opens the nightstand drawer where I keep the lube, rummages through it, then climbs on top of me, presses the lube bottle in my hand, and in a disturbingly credible crazy serial killer voice, she stares right into my eyes and says:
“I am going to murder your family and your cat and poke their eyes out and I will make you eat them.”
Can you guess what round 2 was all about :P?
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/il88gq/my_revenge_followup