What an interesting evening! I am going to break this into two different parts because they are, in my mind, two very different events. To me, though, it is so interesting, and arousing, how this worked out.
NW and I regularly communicate throughout the day. We e-mail. We talk on the phone. We IM. She is not only my wife, my “lover” and mother of our children. She is my best friend. And, honestly, beyond everything else, that is why we work so well together and why our marriage works as it does. So we don’t go very long without communicating in some form.
Yesterday, as usual, we were conversing, this time via IM. And, as usual, but more so of late, there was a lot of sex talk and teasing included. This normally gets me mildly aroused. After several days of denial, though, it kept me pretty wound up. I was beginning to wonder, given the tension in my groin and chest (no, not that), if maybe I should go ahead and have an orgasm. After all, we just started back at this. I did three days, a couple of weeks ago. By the end of the day, I would have doubled that, for this go around. So went my thinking, but I was still, of course, torn. In any case, I felt that I was in need of some sort of attention, and NW was kind enough to provide.
When I got home, we spoke briefly. I mentioned something about my level of arousal. She said that she thought that I might should have an orgasm, if for no other reason than health. (I have some circumstances that require that we be mindful of this. I am not ill, per se, but am in a category of higher risk.) Since I want her to be able to make that decision, and exercise that control (which is fun, but not natural for her), I kept my mouth shut.
See, I wanted the orgasm, for physical relief, as well as her concerns. Even though nothing has specifically happened that would raise red flags. At the same time, though, I didn’t want it. I am enjoying her denying me, even if I am frustrated and tense. And part of me was playing the numbers game. If we make it to Thursday night, it will have been seven days since my last release. Since NW likes to keep me denied for most of the weekend, though, not getting there on Wednesday likely means that Thursday and Friday are in denial as well. Maybe even Saturday. That would mean that my want to hit seven days could, very likely, turn into nine or ten days.
All of this, running through my head, I pretty much decided that I wanted to go ahead and cum. And NW had already, pretty much, said that she wanted me to cum. So, we went into the bedroom for some play. I knew that the orgasm would not happen here. This was play time. The orgasm would come later that evening, during or pre-bed session.
I went down on NW. This time, however, I intentionally went slowly. She, also, after earlier discussions, decided not to try to force the orgasm. Not to fight it, mind you, but to do nothing to hasten it’s arrival. I slowly worked over her entire vulva and inner thigh. I tickled her perineum with my tongue. As I worked over her labia, I massaged the base of her clit between my fingers. Still, it took only about 5 minutes for her to go over, even though I stopped short a couple of times. In all, she had nine or ten, individually wrapped, orgasms. Then she teased me for a bit. We shared the copious amounts of pre-cum. I was edged, several times…and it was over.
At some point during this, as has now become a tradition, I told her to straddle my face, so that she could be given my orgasm. We have, in hot, turn on talk, discussed that I am giving the orgasms I am denied, to her. The orgasms still exist and are still experienced, because we don’t want them lost. Since she is denying them to me, though, it requires that I give it/them to her. So, she straddled my face, with the understanding that the orgasm to follow would specifically be the one she was denying me. It was a wonderful, multiple orgasm, that she had to pull away from, before squirting all over my face…which I would not have minded. I so love this ritual. It feels heavy, erotic and emphasizes her power over me.
Later that evening, just before bed, we started up again. This time, however, I took over and subjected her to a long, heavy flogging. She came multiple times. And, as a favorite of mine, every time she came, I would flog her pussy brutally hard, until the orgasm stopped. Then one last, post orgasm, flog fall. After I was done, I took my position on the bed, so that she could have her fun with me.
She teased/edged me multiple times. The pre-cum was flowing. And I needed to hurt. I told her to do so. She began a process of squeezing my balls. Slowly building until I started to moan and writhe in the glorious discomfort. I had to warn her off, a couple of times, because I almost came from it. At one point I sat up, with my squeezed balls still firmly in her grip, pulled her face to me and began kissing her deeply. I clawed at her back. I held her forcefully. All the while she squeezed harder and harder. But as much as I was hurting, it wasn’t enough. I knew what to do. I began working her clit and she quickly reached orgasm. Why this? Because when she orgasms, she forgets most of what is going on around her. And in the throes of it, her body locks and her hands clench hard. I wasn’t sure if my balls were going to survive it. The pain was immense and shooting into all parts of my abdomen. In the midst of my pain, she was having an orgasm. It was fucking incredible!
After this, she went back to teasing my shaft and consoling my aching, swollen balls. She edged me a couple of times. Then it hit me. I had been wanting an orgasm. I had been expecting an orgasm. She had all but confirmed that I was going to get one. But it wasn’t going to happen. I told her, “It’s time for me to give you my orgasm.” It was a test, if not incredibly arousing. If she let me give her my orgasm, it would confirm that I wasn’t going to have one. At those words, she shivered and moved into place. In surprise, I gave her another, wonderful, multiple orgasm. My orgasm…the one I wanted…the one I expected. Yet, there I was, passing it from me, to her, through the efforts of my tongue and mouth.
My mind had been primed for the orgasm that seemed imminent. But, instead, I had the pleasure of feeling her experience it. Was I frustrated or angry? For just a moment. Then the whole power exchange driven eroticism hit me. I didn’t want that orgasm. I wanted to be denied. And for the first time, it really felt like she had done just that.