Another Story for You

I've fallen behind again, mostly due to outside forces that usurp my time. Anyway, I am now in my 8th day of orgasm denial, and I have to say... It is not getting easier. But I am thinking a lot about how incredible it feels to let someone tell you when you can and can't have pleasure. It's quite electrifying. Here's a fantasy that is currently running through my mind... Hope you enjoy.


It was the first day of their long, international vacation. She stood framed in the bay window, looking out over the city as the sun rose. Her hair, still wet from the shower, fell in long strands down her back. A gentle breeze flew through the window, and she snuggled into the terrycloth robe. Suddenly, his arms were around her. He kissed her neck, nibbled on her ear, stroked the her hair back, gently.

She started to speak, but he was now nibbling on the other ear. She tilted her head back to kiss his neck, bringing her arms up to hold his head. He took the chance to slide his hand into the front of her robe, caressing her breast. She shivered slightly, melting to the touch.

Grabbing the belt, he untied the robe, letting it fall to the ground. It was chilly, but he wrapped his arms around her body, protecting her from the cold. She could tell that he was naked behind her, his hardness throbbing at the small of her back. She tried to turn around to face him, but his arms were exploring her, touching her most delicate skin, feeling out the curve of her hips, her stomach, her beautiful breasts.

He kissed down her back, enjoy her shoulder blades, the curve of her spine, the small of her back. His lips touched each of her ass cheeks, then made their way back up to her neck. Fondling her breasts, he breathed hard into her ear, his primal way of telling her he wanted her, needed her. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, setting her on the warm down comforter.

He hovered above her, staring at her face, drinking in her eyes, then sealing their mouths together with a passionate kiss. He ran his tongue down her body, tracing her collarbone, her stomach, then to her breasts. With tender movement, he rolled a nipple between his lips, then the other. The stiffness in them betrayed her passion. He sucked on them for a moment, then released, blowing warm air on the wet flesh.

Moving down, he spread her legs with his, kissing lower and lower, kissing the insides of her thighs. She moaned a little as he gently began licking her already wet pussy, tasting her, feeling her give in to the pleasure. Her legs locked around him, pushing his tongue further inside. He made circles with his tongue, little flicks, then some very light sucking. Her hips began to slowly buck up and down.

He couldn't take any more. Hovering above her again, he entered her, enveloped by her tight, warm core. He began slowly thrusting into her. Her face was red, her breathing erratic. He continued, nice slow thrusts, enjoying the feel of it. She grabbed his ass, started setting the pace herself now, breathing hard, sweating, working to a final, wonderful release.

He grunted, feeling the pressure build in him. "Don't cum yet," she whispered between thrusts. He clenched his muscles, concentrated, and kept thrusting forward. "Don't cum until I tell you to."

Faster now, harder, their hands roaming everywhere, touching everything. She closed her eyes, rolled her head back. He kept thrusting, pulsing, pushing her to the limit. Suddenly, she tightened, frozen, and moaned breathily. He kept thrusting for a moment more, driving her to her second, and third breathless moments. He had to stop, then, to hold back his own release. She looked at him with glazed eyes, smiling. They stared at each other for an eternity, then she ran her fingers through his hair.

"That was incredible, my dear." He smiled. "But I told you you could cum on Monday, and today is Sunday. Sorry."

Damn time zones.