I was stirred awake by the weight of his thick arm as it surrounded me and pulled me close to his naked body. The firm mounds of his pecs pushed into my back as his deep voice softly growled, "good morning" in my ear and softly bit the lobe. His morning erection pulsed against my ass cheek as I yawned, "good morning" back at him over my shoulder. My dick woke up with me. The smell and feel of him brought the full length of it to full salute.

I attempted to turn to face him, but he held me unable to move. His thick fingers began playing softly with my tits as he groaned morning groans into my ear. His hand slid down my belly and surrounded my pulsing cock. He didn't move his hand, just left it there feeling its weight. I involuntarily thrust my pelvis into his hand. He immediately let go and returned to my nipples.

"What shall we with this day?" I asked, breaking the moment.

"How about an old fashioned circle jerk to start," he replied slowly.

"A circle jerk!"

"Yea, just like the boy scouts. The first one to cum wins."

"Wins what?"

"Well...I think whatever the winner wants...don't you?"

"I think I'd rather play with your dick than mine."

"Oh, I don't know... you might change your mind by the time we're through," he chuckled from deep in his throat. My dick stood at full attention straining to understand.

"Let's pee and get some coffee," he said with some excitement. "I'll meet you back here...and no stroking your dick. We want this to be fair...don't we?"

My hard-on led me to the kitchen where I started the coffee.

He was laying on the bed when I returned with the two cups of coffee. His feet were crossed at the ankles. His dick curled lazily on his leg wrapped to the right over his dark, full balls. His hair was still tossled from the night's sleep. His hands were clasped behind his head and a mischievous smile curled his lip. A deck of cards sat nestled in the dark hair of his chest. The toes on his large feet curled in some sort of sexual rythm.

After a couple of sips, he leaned close to my face, "Here are the rules: Here's a deck of cards. Aces are one. Face cards are zero. The rest are what they are. We sit facing each other. We draw a card and that's how many strokes we get. We alternate drawing cards until one of us cums. It's just that simple. Oh, and there's one joker. Whoever gets the joker can jack himself off to climax. Any questions?"

"Yeah, who shuffled the cards?"

"You can shuffle them all you want. The first one to cum makes the rest of the rules. You game?"

I shook my head as I shuffled the cards...then shuffled them again.

"I go first," I insisted.

"Go ahead. Draw, cowboy."

"Eight!" My dick bounced to attention and I stroked it eight times. His dick pointed straight up his chest.

"Jack! Damn!" He frowned. I smiled.

"Five." I stroked my dick five more times.

The game continued an excruciatingly long time. Sometimes he got high cards. Sometimes I did. Jacking off in finite numbers allows just enough time to get closer to the edge, and then there's the wait while the other one jacks his. After about 10 cards I was aching to shoot. If only I could get a 6 or better I think I could do it. My hips were twitching. I wasn't use to the discipline of waiting when my cock said, "Go!" I drew a 4.

"Oh, yeaaaaa....," I took four long strokes and felt the jism climb higher in my rocket dick. But not enough.

He was getting hot, too. He thrust his hips and poked the air with his dick to no avail. He drew my 6.

"Ah.... ah...ah.... ahh...ahhh...ahhhh...fuck!" His six were over. He twitched and bobbed and arched his back. His dick slapped against the hair line on his belly. He raised his ass off the bed and air fucked but nothing came.

A queen then a king added to the delicious frustration. Our thrusts and twitches combined in a strange erotic dance there on the bed.

"Two. Fuck!" He threw the card down and tried to make two strokes into 10. It didn't work. The pace of his dance increased.

"Joker!," I screamed. "Alright, baby. We're goin" home. Wanna watch, fucker?" I taunted him and laughed demonically. I delicously wrapped my hand around my dick, turned my eyes to the heavens, and languidly ran my hand from one end of my dick to the other in long, slow strokes. I looked him square in the eyes and jacked my dick. Closer...closer...ah...so close...closer...ah...ah . .

Suddenly, this unearthly growl erupted from HIM! "Ohhhhhh...sheeeiiiit.... ahhhhhhhhhhh...fuuuuuuck meeeeeee!!!" A blast of hot cum hit me in the neck...then the chest...Suddenly the air was filled with jiz...but not mine.

The sight of me jacking my dick and the thought of his losing had brought him off in enormous stripes of cum without his even touching his cock.

"Take your hand off your dick, fucker. You lose!" he said pointing a cum-draped finger square in my face.

"Oh, man, I gotta shoot...I'll fuckin' explode, man...I drew the joker!, man", I whined.

"He who shoots first wins, fucker. Drop your dick! Put your hands on top of your head! And, keep them there until I say..."

Reluctantly, I dropped my twitching dick and cupped my hands on top of my head. I frantically tried to find something to rub against, but there was nothing but air. I poked and stabbed and flexed and twitched in frustration.

"Don't move," he said. "I'll be right back to tell you how the rest of the day is gonna go...I think you'll like it...you love to dance..."

I could hear him laughing as he rummaged through the hall closet.

He returned with a shopping bag.

"How ya doin"?"

"I'm about to fuckin' convulse...how do you think I'm doin? Let me shoot, man..."

"Oh, you'll shoot...in time...Here's all you have to do. I've got two canning jars here. One has your name on it...and one has mine. Your goal is to shoot in your jar. My goal is to get you to shoot in mine. And the amazing thing is...neither of us is going to touch your dick. Won't that be fun? You wanna shoot. I want you to shoot. It's really only how we get you to shoot...and where... You shoot in your jar...the game is over...you shoot in mine...the game continues...until you shoot in your jar...it really couldn't be any simpler...all you need to do is shoot in your jar..."

"Fuck, man...I could shoot right now..."

"Do you want your jar?"

"Fuck yeah...I'll fill that fuckin' jar."

"Cool. Here ya go...you've got 30 seconds."

He placed the jar over my cock and balls. I jabbed and thrust and tried to get contact with the glass. If only I could rub on the glass, I knew I could cum. But, I couldn't...quite...touch...the glass. He saw to that. I looked ridiculous there on my knees with my hands cupped on my head bobbing around...poking and thrusting...and flexing my dick. I thought if I got a rythm going I could urge the spunk right out of the end of my dick. Flex.... fleeeeex.... fleeeeeeexxxxxxx . . .

"Time's up. Too bad, pal. I thought you really had something going there."

I collapsed on my back from the effort.

"We'll need to get you all dressed up. We wouldn't want you to yield to temptation. We'll start with some cuffs."

He snapped a pair of handcuffs on my wrists and padlocked them to a length of chain he padlocked around my neck. The chain was long enough that I could eat, drink, use the computer...but short enough that I couldn't touch my dick.

"And, I wouldn't want you to get a rug burn humping the carpet. A chastity cuff will help you out there."

After working with an ice cube, my dick subsided enough to be placed in the chastity cuff. A length of chain was wrapped around my waist and the cuff clicked firmly into place. We had tried the cuff before, but my dick head always poked through which allowed me to finger myself to ejaculation. Not terribly satisfying, but it got the job done. He had thought of that. A piece of metal screeen had been welded on the end in kind of a mushroom shape. The head of my dick slid through the tube and settled in to its new cage. I could pee, but not get at it in any way.

"There ya go. I'm gonna shower up and run to town. Here's your jar. Anytime you feel like filling it, you just step up and shoot. It's just that simple. Use the computer, watch dirty movies...whatever you like...just shoot in your jar."

My cock raged in its cage. I tried dry humping the bed, but couldn't...quite...get...at...it. I tried fucking the tube of the chastity cuff. Some friction...but...not...quite...enough. Only enough to excite me further.

I was covered in sweat as he checked on me before he left for town. "How's it goin'? You getting any closer?"

"Fuck you, man," I said mostly meaning it.

"Tell you what...I'll give you a break...I'll leave the keys to the cuffs in the bush at the end of the driveway. If you want `em, they're there. Oh, shit. You're naked. Well, they're there if you need them. You might give the Johnsons a thrill, but they're there. Look, you can see them from the front window. Imagine...that close...and still out of reach..."

The door closed and the car pulled away. I put a dirty movie in the player and tried to imagine fucking the actors. It only made my cock harder. Once I got...so...close...and then the scene changed. I lost my edge.

I was still buckin' and pokin' when he opened the door. Without saying a word he went to the bedroom to check my jar.

"Now, that's too bad," he said and went to put the groceries away.

"Please, man. I gotta cum. I can't stop twitching. My dick's been hard for hours now. Please!"

"Let's get your dick out of this cage and see what you can do."

After another ice cube, my swollen cock pulled back through the chastity cuff. It felt good to have it free in the air and the ice had allowed it soften. Much better.

"Ok, cum. You've got 2 minutes."

"What? My hands are still cuffed."

"Cum. You've got 1 minute and 50 seconds. Here's your jar."

I was surprised. I didn't know where to turn. My cock was soft for the first time in hours and I had 2 minutes to cum.

I ran to the bedroom and started rubbing myself off against the sheets. I looked ridiculous. Finally, I managed to get a rythm going when I was interrupted by his laughter.

"Now, that's attractive," he shook his head. "Like a dog in heat and no bitch in sight. 30 seconds left, pal. Hump you son of a bitch."

I was humping with everything I had. But...I...couldn't...quite...get...it...

"Stop. Roll over. Time's up. Now it's my turn. You've had a chance to shoot in your jar. Now we'll see if you can STOP yourself from shooting in mine. Remember, if you shoot in my jar, the game continues until you shoot in yours."

I rolled over and scrambled to my feet. My swollen cock bounced horizontally in front of me. I tried to cross my legs to touch it and finish the job, but it didn't work. It only added to my humiliating dance.

He snapped a leather cock ring around my cock and balls being careful not to allow his hand to touch my dick. He bent me over and slid my "rattler" butt plug up my ass. I was fucking shivering with horniness. My dance went to a new level. He laughed.

He padlocked the chain around my neck to a chain suspended from the ceiling beam in the bedroom. He kept is just short enough to keep me on my toes. Now I was bucking and thrusting and pinching my legs together only now on my tip toes. With a piece of duct tape, he secured his jar over my dick.

"Don't cum," He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it to the floor. His thick arms and full matt of chest hair heaved with his breath.

"Don't cum," He slid his pants down over his thick thighs and left them as restraints around his ankles.

"Don't cum," He leaned back on the bed on one elbow and deliciously aroused his dick with his other hand.

"Don't cum," He urged it to full erection. He spit on his hand and returned to work never taking his eyes off mine.

"Don't cum," He squeezed his balls and bounced the head of his dick on his stomach.

I dangled in the wind. It now took all my energy to not cum. Five minutes ago, I would have given anything to squirt. Now I was mustering my energies to stop. What torture.

"Don't cum," The pace of his stroking increased.

"Don't cum," He druelled spit on to the head of his dick and continued to stroke.

"Don't cum," He looked away from me for the first time. His eyes rolled back in his head.

"Don't.... cum. Don't...cum...Don't..." His cock exploded in ribbons of jiz that clung to the hair on his chest and slid slowly off his thighs.

"Cum . . " He looked squarely back at me.

From somewhere deep in me a feeling began. The sounds I was making I didn't recognize as my own. Suddenly, I felt the wave rush down my cock and I blew. Staccato blasts of cream shot against the side of his jar. I rose high on my toes and pushed my hips forward and shot and shot and shot more hot cum and more hot cum until the head of my dick was immersed in my own load.

I regained what I could of my composure and looked up at him.

"Now, that's too bad," He said. "We'll see ya in about an hour."

I was left standing with the jar of my failure taped to my crotch. And, I knew in an hour the game would begin again...