C is for Countdown

I put the egg timer on the counter. “I believe that’s a two minute timer, correct?”

brown hourglass on brown wooden table
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“Uh, I guess. Why?”

“I just wanted to make sure. I like to be accurate.”

“You have that look…” you say cautiously.

“What look?” I bat my eyes.

“You know what look.”

“Wanna make a bet?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Of course. You always have a choice. You just might prefer the bet to the alternative.”

You sigh. “What’s the bet?”

“If you can do 40 pushups before the timer runs out, I’ll have my way with you before breakfast.”

“And if I don’t take the bet?”

Smiling a sacharine smile, I say, “It will be two weeks before I let you cum.”

“And if I try and fail?”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

You get down on the floor. “Let’s do this thing.” I wait for you to get ready and turn the timer over.


The first 10 are fast, followed by the next ones still at a good pace. You start slowing down on the third ten. “Only 10 left,” I say. “And maybe 45 seconds?”

I can see you starting to sweat, but you keep going. Just as you finish 40, the last piece of sand falls.

“Tie,” I smirk.

“I win the tie, right?” you gasp.

“Well….I guess that could be arranged.”

Erotic Fiction

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