Tracey Makes It Up To Andy

Just to smell those after a long, hard day...

6 excruciating months passed, and Andy had made a somewhat full recovery. After an agonising wait for the ambulance, the doctors were able to repair the double rupture to his testicles and after months of rehabilitation, Andy was able to walk although still gingerly.

He had a lot of time in rehabilitation to think over the course of last few years and finally decided it was time to move on from Tracey. This couldn't be love. So he decided one day, to make the visit to tell her to her face that he was done with her once and for all.

He arrived at Tracey's home late one afternoon, pausing outside the front door to recall the last time he'd been there. He shuddered, recalling the pain that had made him want to die. He composed himself and knocked on the door.

After a short and anxious wait, the door was swung open to reveal Tracey. She must have just arrived home from work, dressed in black thigh high stockings with garters and black Louboutin heels, a short black pencil skirt and a white blouse, rolled up at the sleeves, and exposing ample cleavage. Her face as always angelic, ensnared Andy instantly.

"What do you want?" She spat cruelly.

"I wanted to tell you it's over. I won't be coming over here anymore," he hesitated.

"Good," she huffed.

"Also I won't be sending you money anymore."

There was a deafening silence.

She suddenly smiled brightly and knowingly, a condescending and loving gaze, he'd missed. She looked at him like he was her pet again. "Hey, I thought I'd never see you again!" Her uncharacteristic warmth threw him off. This was the Tracey he worshipped. "How are they hanging?" she quipped.

"With great difficulty," he started. She made an adorable pout, looking exaggeratedly empathetic.

"I felt really bad about what happened that day," she began in her sultry baby-talk tones. "But I was in a really bad mood, I was having a bad hair day, and it did make me feel an itty-bitty bit better, hearing them go crunch like that." He winced. "And I really wanted to come visit you in the hospital, but I was super busy."

"I understand," Andy couldn't believe how fast he'd reverted to his old self, he was crushed, figuratively this time. He felt immense shame wash over him.

"Also your nuts broke my wooden spoon, so whenever is good for you, you can bring one around," she beamed.

"Anything for you," he whimpered in his defeat. He recalled how he'd say that often in their relationship as he functioned as her slave.

"That's the spirit! Now, about making it all up to you," Andy's ears pricked up at this. "I suppose your little guys have been on hiatus for the last few months?"

Andy nodded submissively.

"So you haven't cum at all then?"

"No, I haven't," he admitted, "the doctors told me not to. They said it would be very painful to touch and ejaculate."

"Well then," Tracey smirked her bright red lips. "I promise I won't touch your damaged goods, if you promise not to cum. Just try and enjoy this."

With that, Tracey pushed Andy hard against the wall, slapping him hard across the face. Her dainty, manicured hand leaving a firm red print across his cheek. Then she pressed her tight, warm, young body against his. He could feel her every curve writhe against him.

"Look down my blouse, Andy." He complied to see her gorgeous bust, pains shot through his crotch. "Hello, Andy Junior, welcome to the party." She giggled. "That was too easy, you must really be sexually frustrated, all that cum built up in those aching balls."

Andy swallowed hard.

"Have you thought about me, Andy? About my stockings, how they smell, how they taste?" She moved out from him to model them, displaying her long beautiful legs. "Have you thought about sucking on my toes, cleaning my shoes with your tongue, sucking on the stiletto heel?"

She made eyes at Andy, fluttering her eyelashes, he was mesmerised.

Another sharp pain struck his groin, he moaned audibly.

"I see a wet patch, Mister. Did that hurt you?"

This was damaging in more ways than one, but Andy was completely in her control.

"I know what you want?" She cooed, sauntering back to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder and lowered her head to his crotch, teasing his tenting pants. She leaned down to remove her high heel and then came back up to face Andy, tossing her hair seductively.

"Did you miss my smell, sweetie?" She said as she jammed the opening of her sweaty high heel over Andy's nose and mouth. He embraced it, drawing in all of her vinegary fragrances. It must have been a long day. He had missed this scent. He began moaning again.

"Do you like that? Does it feel good? Do you want to cum for me? Cum for me, baby. Do it. Do it!"

With his face still buried in her shoe, he began to spray the biggest load of his life into the front of his pants, the cum began to pierce through the fabric. She'd ruined his first orgasm in 6 months. Without her touch he'd been robbed of a real climax. And the pain that came with it was excruciating, an intense ache, racking through Andy's body. He doubled over, as an ecstatic Tracey placed her shoe back on her foot.

"Does it hurt really bad?" She cooed, leaning down with her hands on her knees to meet his submissive position.

"Yes," he cried.

"Good."