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Message-ID: <35713asstr$1016136607@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: PJcocoa@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} Chocolate Knights {Gary Jordan} [VBC] (MF nosex)
Date: Thu, 14 Mar 2002 15:10:07 -0500
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For the Virago Blue Challenge

Chocolate Knight

By Gary Jordan

(M/F, nosex) [VBC]
Copyright (c) 2002

"Jeanine said, 'Somebody needs to go to the store.'"

Repeated back that way, not really a question, but made so by raised eyebrow, 
cocked head and hand on hip, it made me feel foolish. I still nodded to 
confirm that she'd heard correctly.  After all, why should she be the only 
one who ever initiated our games?  We both knew the codewords. We both 
enjoyed the play. I mean, really! Light bondage was my idea, originally, so 
why shouldn't I be the one to request it?

Jeanine looked as though she were considering it.  Since the day she lost a 
wager and agreed to my repeated request to at least try it, she had always 
been the one to call for the ropes and cuffs.  I had no complaints - a coin 
toss decided who was wearing the restraints - but it had been a while.

Okay, okay.  Morning sickness does tend to throw a monkey wrench into games 
that restrict movement, and dampen the mood besides.  But it had been weeks - 
at least one, anyway - since she had experienced her unpredictable bouts of 
nausea.  And we had hours before the costume party.

She smiled that starburst smile and I knew I wasn't wrong.

But I wasn't necessarily right, either.  "After the party, if you're still up 
to it," she said.

Even better.  I had a little scenario in mind that would be in keeping with 
the party theme, which (if I haven't mentioned it) was "Nights in Armor."  It 
didn't matter who won the toss, my fantasy would work either way.

Of course, I hadn't seen the costumes yet.  Jeanine had worked on them in 
secrecy rivalling the Forbin Project.  I didn't have any idea if I would be 
dressed as a knight or a "faire damselle," or maybe as Jeanine's squire.  I 
was sure I could make any of these work in the fantasy.

I did not take into account how much my scents of humor had corrupted my 
lovely mate.

After a light meal, it was time to dress for the party.  I did the dishes 
while Jeanine laid out the costumes and put hers on.  Then it was my turn.  
Walking down the hallway to the bedroom, I felt a growing sense of 
anticipation.  I'd get to see these "award winning" costumes (Jeanine assured 
me) for the first time, and see Jeanine in hers.  Would she be an armored 
knight?  A damsel in distress? The queen who bestows her favors on the 
knight?

-~-

I nearly stopped laughing when she kicked me lightly where I lay helpless on 
the floor.  But wiping the tears from my eyes just allowed me to see her in 
her regalia again, and started another round.

She allowed me to calm myself, grinning the while.  Her efforts had had the 
desired effect and she was justifiably proud of the results.  "You like?" she 
asked.

I worked back to my knees and bowed forehead to floor, arms extended towards 
her.  "I am not worthy, O Mistress!"  I fawned and scraped before her 
superior display of punsmanship.

She bade me rise, and I got the full appreciation of her pun.  How to 
describe our costumes...

The theme was Nights in Armor.  Jeanine stood modeling what appeared to be a 
can of Chili with a well-known blue label.  Adorning the label was the yellow 
band ending in a trade-marked star.  (Can you picture it?  We were going as 
Knights in Armour.)  The only difference I noted was that hers said, "Chili 
without Beans" and mine was "with Beans".  A stiff hula-hoop affair at the 
top kept the generally round shape.  There was provision for another at the 
bottom, but she said we'd insert that when we arrived, or we'd never get in 
the car.  The bottom of the "can" was zippered to the rest, with elasticised 
leg-holes .  A pair of four-foot can openers completed the costume.

I had to kiss her before I got dressed - we'd have a hard time getting that 
close, once I was in my can.

-~-

We won "Most Original Costume" and the prize was, appropriately enough, an 
electric can opener.  Sometimes the Almighty has a strange sense of humor, 
too.  Jeanine drove home - despite the best (or worst) of intentions for the 
remainder of that evening, I'm afraid I drank a bit too much.

Someday I'll get her to tell me what happened when we got home.  I woke up 
the next afternoon pleasantly sore, and with plenty of dried evidence that 
somebody's fantasies were explored, but every time I ask, she gets a silly 
grin and clams up. Snickers and Mars Bars haven't worked as bribes, either.

I'm going to have to pull out the big guns.  Ghirardelli will make her talk, 
and then I'll share it with you.

The End

Let me know what you thought at Gary Jordan (pjcocoa@aol.com)

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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