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Waiting	By : girlcalledkill00 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 1857 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know or own the band Green Day or any of it's members including Billie Joe and Adrienne Armstrong. This is purely fiction and I made no money from writing it, just enjoyment.

Chapter List
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   Doing my best to hold still, I kneel on the glossy wood floor in our bedroom, and try to breathe normally. I shift my weight a little, even though that’s against the rules. It hurts, but at least it’s not the cold tile that’s in other parts of the house. I’ve knelt on that, too, and it hurts more. I can’t hold still for very long on the tile.
  I look down. Goosebumps are popping out and the hair on my arms is standing up as my body temperature drops. I wrap my arms around myself, my mind instantly wondering, is this allowed? Probably not. She has so many rules. I lower my arms back down to my sides and try again to slow down my breathing. I can feel my heart pound within my ribcage.
    My clothes are in a heap nearby. All of them. I try not to shiver; it’s too soon to be cold. I press my hands into my legs so they don’t shake so hard.
     I wonder what’s next, because she never tells me what she’s going to do. It pleases her to keep me guessing. I could be awaiting pleasure, or pain. Usually, it's pain...but the pleasure, if and when it does happen, is so much sweeter that way. I alternate between fear, and excitement; back and forth, back and forth, until my hands are sweaty against my legs and my throat is tight when I try to swallow. Jesus Christ, I could be stuck here alone for one more minute, or one more hour.
    We came home from visiting family, and the kids stayed behind to hang out with cousins. The house was ours. That’s why I’m not surprised that when we walked in, she set down her purse, and turned to me and said, “Now, Billie Joe, you are going to go up to our bedroom, take off all your clothes and immediately get on your knees in the middle of the room. You are to hold still, and you are not to touch yourself.”
    She caught me by surprise then, though. Feeling the heat of a blush spreading up my cheeks, I took a minute to turn away and think about what she had just said as I pulled my jean jacket off and tossed it onto the couch. I guess it was a minute too long, because she grabbed a handful of hair on the side of my head and said even quieter, “Now.”
    When she gets quieter, I know that I had better listen. Even thinking about her voice, and how she said ‘Now’, makes my hard cock twitch and tingle. She released my hair and pointed to the stairs. Without a word I turned and practically ran up them.
    To take my mind off of my aching knees, I go through the day in my head. Did I do something wrong? Did I do something right? Either way, she would have a good reason to send me up here and put me on my knees. Shit, she doesn’t need a reason, at all. And if she had one, she doesn’t have to tell me. But I try to guess at it, in my mind, and come up with nothing. I shift again, just a little.
   I want to sit back. But if I do, and she comes through that door and sees me…Jesus then I’ll be in for it. The thought makes me get a little harder and makes the corner of my mouth turn up, just a little. She’ll take one look at me and say, really quiet, “Billie Joe, you’re going to get it now.”
    Even better, I could sit back, AND jack off. Christ knows how much I want to. I’ve been hard since my dash up the stairs. I got up here, shut the door, and I pulled my clothes off, with trembling hands, and there it was, my nice big painful erection. It would almost be worth her punishment, if I could just sit back, give my middle aged knees a break, and yank on my painful boner until I made a nice sticky mess all over my hand.
    But shit, her punishments hurt more than my knees and my hard-on.
    Even if I sit back, and jack off, and manage to clean it up and get back on my knees all before she makes it back up here, it doesn’t matter. Because she’s going to ask, I know it.
    “Billie Joe, did you stay on your knees?” I can hear her voice in my ears, and God my cock tingles again, at just the picture I’ve made in my mind. Her standing over me, my beautiful wife; with her soft skin and hair falling over her shoulders; with that quiet sweet voice with an edge like a knife. “Billie Joe, did you touch yourself?”
   Of course I’ll have to answer her, and of course, I’ll have to tell the truth. I would never, ever, ever lie to her. Not about this. Maybe I say marriage-saver lies, like “Honey, that dress does not make you look fat!” But this? I would have to tell her the truth, and then she would lower her voice. “Billie Joe, you’re going to get it now.”
   And then she’d have to punish me.
   My cock twitches and aches. Shivering for real now, I groan out loud, just a little. I hope she doesn’t hear me. That’s against the rules, I remember that one. I don’t know how long my knees are going to hold out. Jesus Christ but I’m getting old.
  Eventually, I’m going to have to sit back. I’m stuck here, and when she does finally walk into that door, I’ll be at her mercy.
   Groaning again at the increased pressure in my raging erection, I smile to myself.
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