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Now How Did That Happen?

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Synopsis: A man is slowly sucked into a lifestyle of orgasm denial
NOW HOW DID THAT HAPPEN

NOW HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?

 

 

By Aaron Oliver

 

 

At first it was irritating.  Then unbelievably frustrating.  But I never expected what came next.

 

It began one Friday evening just before midnight.  I was deep inside my wife, moving rhythmically and rapidly approaching the brink.  Jeanne was bucking beneath me, gasping, then exploding into a noisy orgasm.  I started to follow – and then the telephone rang.

 

Jeanne pushed me off, reached over and grabbed the receiver.  I lay on my back panting, my cock still hard, and the call took only a moment.

 

“We have to go,” she said.  “My sister’s not well.  Somebody has to take her to the emergency room.”

 

Well, what could I say to that?  I resigned myself to waiting a few hours until I could plunge inside her again, climbed out of bed, dressed and off we went.

 

We didn’t get home until about six a.m. and by then Jeanne was exhausted.  I’d been a fifth wheel all night while she and her sister worked their way through the maze at the hospital.  I felt horny as hell despite the surroundings – I’d been so close when the phone rang.

 

But Jeanne wasn’t interested.  She saw the size of my cock, but just gave me a sleepy smile and said, “Not now, Jack.  Save it, okay?”  She squeezed it a couple of times, then rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly.

 

So what did I do?  I lay there with a hard on for half an hour before I fell into an irritated and intermittent sleep.

 

I woke about noon, and the bed was empty.  Where the hell was she?  Then I saw the note.  “I’m heading over to Karen’s,” it said.  “Want to make sure she’s feeling okay.”

 

I spent the afternoon wandering around the house, puttering, fully turned on most of the time.  But, for some reason, I didn’t masturbate.  I figured Jeanne would be home by early evening, and then . . .

 

I was right.  She returned about seven, but was awfully distracted.  “Karen isn’t doing so well,” she said.  “I may have to take a day off from work.”  But she wasn’t too tired to begin playing with me in bed a couple of hours later.  She worked my cock into a lather and then looked at me and said, “Jack, I’m awfully tense.  I’m really worried about Karen.  I need to be fucked, hard – and I don’t want you cuming before me, okay?  I need to be ridden as hard as you can.”

 

My cock begin throbbing even more than before and when I entered her she was as wet as I could ever remember.  “Hold it, Jack, hold it,” she whispered as she began to move beneath me, and it wasn’t long before she flared into orgasm, screaming my name, then had another one.

 

I couldn’t believe it, but I still hadn’t exploded myself – and then she pushed me away again!

 

“That was great, Jack,” she whispered, languidly, and then drifted off almost immediately to sleep.

 

Leaving me high, dry and enormously frustrated.  It took me an hour to fall asleep.

 

Sunday morning I woke first and saw her lying beside me.  My cock immediately responded, and I began stroking the length of her body with my fingertips.  She slowly came awake and eventually rolled over on top of me, then positioned herself above my cock.

 

“I didn’t know you could hold it so long,” she whispered as she stared down at me.  “How many times do you think you can bring me off without cuming?”

 

My eyes must have widened, because she broke into a big smile, then looked down at my cock.  It was bouncing.  “You like the idea, don’t you?” she asked, and I had to admit, unbelievably, that I did.  My irritation disappeared and my excitement grew.  She slowly sank down on my cock and it nestled deep inside her.  When she began to move she reached down and began tweaking my nipples -- but she also stared deeply into my eyes and said, “Don’t cum, Jack.  Don’t cum.  Just bring me off again, slowly.  Take your time.  Just bring me off . . . ”  Her voice drifted away as she began to feel it, and she braced her hands on the headboard above us, rising and falling the length of my shaft.  I concentrated on her words -- “Don’t cum, Jack.  Don’t cum.”  And as she moved toward her climax and went over the top I stayed with her, never once losing control.

 

She slumped, pulled off and rolled onto the bed beside me.  Neither of us spoke for a few moments, then she reached over and began caressing my cock.  I nearly went mad with desire.  She sat cross-legged on the bed next to me and played with me, using both hands, cupping my balls with one and sliding the other up and down my cock, then teasing the underside of my cock head.  She didn’t apply enough pressure to bring me off, just enough to keep me tantalizingly close.  Every time I tried to thrust upward into her hands, she took them away until I stopped moving.  And each time she felt me nearing the brink, she let go and waited until I’d calmed down.

 

It went on that way for 30 minutes or more.  I became delirious from the pleasure – and when she told me to fuck her again without cuming I did it willingly.

 

Karen never called that day.  We stayed in bed for hours.  Jeanne had five or six orgasms and I had none.  When we retired for the night she asked me if I thought I could hold out for another day.  I said I didn’t know if I could, but I’d try.

 

Monday morning we both went to work.  She called me a couple hours later.

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

 

“It’s unbelievable,” I said.  “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

 

She giggled and said she’d see me in a few hours.

 

Monday night was a repeat of Sunday.  I took her to one orgasm after another, using my tongue, my fingers and my cock – and she spent long periods toying with me.  I didn’t come once.  By now it had been 72 hours since Friday night and even longer since my last orgasm.  Both Jeanne and I were amazed – and when she was ready to sleep she asked me to hold it for another day.  I said I would try, and then I lay awake in torment most of the night.

 

Tuesday at the office went by in a blur.  Every woman I saw caused my cock to twitch.  Jeanne called once to tell me how much she was looking forward to the evening, and when I got home she was waiting in the bedroom.

 

All this happened nearly two years ago.  That first week I didn’t cum until Thursday, and only because Jeanne finally took pity on me and brought me off with her hands.  The next night we started again, and we’ve continued ever since.  It wasn’t long before we both realized she owned my orgasm, that I would never have another one unless she gave me permission.  I live in an almost constant state of sexual desire, and I never know how long it will be until my next explosion.  Sometimes she lets me cum inside her cunt, sometimes she brings me off in her mouth, sometimes she uses her hands.  But the wait between orgasms is lengthening all the time.  As I write this, it’s been more than three weeks.

 

And our relationship continues to evolve.  Jeanne insists I remain naked all the time when we’re home, and she’s been inventing new ways to tease me.  She loves pinching my nipples and has begun exploring my asshole with butt plugs and dildoes.  Her sense of power and entitlement is growing all the time, and this evening she called me into the bedroom to see her newest toys.  Handcuffs, nipple clamps, a penis whip, a paddle.  I looked at them, then looked at her – and knew whatever she had in mind would take me places I’d never been before.

 

“Let’s get started,” I said, and she grinned.

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