The Queen Upon Her Throne

Evening had arrived.  I came out of the bathroom, getting ready for bed, and there was NW, ready for play.  As I was already naked, I just climbed into bed next to her.  She wasted no time in starting to tease me.

After what seemed far too short of a time, she decided something new was needed.  So, she stood, re-positioned and took her seat, upon her throne.  I felt her full weight settle onto my chest.  She slid forward and began to feed me a feast that only royalty could provide.  I dutifully, and blissfully, devoured what I was offered.

An orgasm later and she reclined on her throne.  The length of her body resting against mine.  Her beautiful ass an inch away.  She slid forward, as though a command, and my mouth and tongue found their rightful place…servicing the needs of my wonderful NW.

A few orgasms ensued.  Then she sat upright, again, and allowed me the honor of cleaning the mess that I had caused.  Only to climb down from her throne and begin providing undeserved attention to her subject.

Once erect, she moved to straddle my crotch.  I thought that she intended to take me inside of her…to feel me stretch her sex.  But I was wrong.  Instead, she mounted me and let my cock lay flat beneath her pussy.  She reached down and pulled the head up, so that my cock curved with her body.  Then she began grinding, sliding, using the length of my cock as a toy for friction and my pulled up head to press against her clit.

She came, thankfully, before I was fully on edge.  When she almost immediately started again, though, it was more than I could resist.  She paused.  I asked a question.  The moment that passed allowed me to somewhat regain my composure.  She began again, pressing my cock head against her grinding clit.  It was still too much.  So, I dug my nails into my chest, trying to distract myself…to prolong the inevitable.  Sensing this, she dug the nails of her off-hand into my thigh.  It was enough.  She reached orgasm.  I had survived.  I would not lose my head tonight.

Rolling off of me, we were laying, side by side, head to foot.  She told me to use my fingers to pleasure her.  She is still withholding intercourse, for an unknown amount of time.  While I began to work her clit and labia, one finger, then two, found their way into her sex, as she slowly stroked me.  Mutual masturbation…mmm…

Then came the surprise.  She wanted more that two fingers.  She wanted more than three.  She wanted my whole fist, if I could make it work.  So, I began.  I used twice as much lubrication as was probably necessary.  But I knew the end goal was not likely to happen.  So, I needed every advantage I could muster.

Three fingers went in, sinking to the knuckles.  She moaned and arched.  I slowly worked them in and out, trying to make sure that she didn’t come, as the convulsions would undermine the goal.

A fourth finger joined the effort.  She moaned louder, arched harder, winced somewhat and I had to pause, before she went over the edge.  I slowly worked the four fingers in and out.  In to the point where my thumb would allow me no further depth.  Then is was time.

I covered everything in sight with another layer of lubricant and pulled back enough to align my thumb.  Despite her persistent stroking of me, I had lost much of my erection, by this point, as I was wholly focused on what I was doing.  I started my inward thrust.

It just wouldn’t go.  With all five fingers pushing their way in, the base knuckle of my thumb just was not going to clear, short of tearing/hurting her severely.  The fullness and the pain were enough to send her careening over the edge, though.  As she started to come, I pushed harder, knowing that the orgasm bought me a degree of latitude with how much pain she could endure.

My hand sank a little deeper, as the contractions of her orgasm tried to expel it.  Four fingers and the length of my thumb were fully inside of her.  The base knuckle of my thumb was touching her vagina…but it would go no further.  Her orgasms, however, seemed endless.  I have no idea how many she had, end to end and overlapping.  But she flooded from them.  I don’t think she has ever released so much ejaculate.  The towel beneath her was so soaked that the carpet beneath it, once it had been thrown off the bed, was wet.  Not damp, but wet…

She wanted more, but was sore and swollen.  She knew that we needed to end it for the night.  That did not mean that she was done with me, though.

We talked, as she worked my cock and balls.  Eventually she brought me back to edge.  I asked if I could have an orgasm (Yes, I wanted it.  Yet, no, I did not.).  She said “no”.  But, after glancing at the clock…9:52.  She said that, if I could get there before 9:55, she would ruin one for me.  How fucking delicious it that!?

She worked me, slowly, steadily.  I could have turned myself over to it and let it come.  She was merciful enough to keep it at a pace where I could just hold back, though, if I so desired.  I did.  I knew that she didn’t want me to have any release.  And we have discussed what even a ruined orgasm might do to my head space, this early in the process.  I fought it off.  But I rode that edge for three full minutes.  The tenseness in my abs, loins and shoulders never releasing.

She thanked me for holding off.  I was rewarded with a couple of rapid stroke edgings.  The end had come…but, once again, I had not.  Fortunately, NW had come enough, and intensely enough, for any five people.

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