Sunday, December 30, 2007

Orgasm Permitted. -The Husband

So, the Masochist says to the Sadist, "Hurt me." Calmly replies the Sadist, "No."

A recent innovation to my cunnilingus repertoire (limited though it may be) was orgasm denial. A bisexual friend of mine had explained it thusly: "Pay attention to when she is right on the edge of orgasm and then back off what you are doing. Give a little more- , let her taste the feeling, then back off again, and so on." The idea is that if you get her really pliable the lightest touch sends her over the edge and you guide her along the precipice for one long orgasmic wave. If this effort fails it is because she falls over that knife edge and has a massive orgasm, so either way, win-win.

The first time I tried this, she said during (AND after), "That's MEAN!" I explained the concept, leaving her unimpressed as she is multiply and easily orgasmic, so she couldn't see the point. She already surfs orgasmic waves without any science fair experiments thank you very much. It should be noted that on the previous occasion when the experiment 'failed' it was because of heightened sensitivity that caused a arch up off the bed massive orgasm, so no hot wives were harmed in the testing.

Tonight I was lewdly reaching under her skirt as she was attempting some graphic design work, I asked her what she was in the mood for tonight. "Orgasm denial," she blushingly said. "I thought you said that was mean." pressing the issue making it her desire, as images of her on her knees taped to a spreader bar, head down screaming into a pillow played through my mind. She verbalized it to may satisfaction about the time I got her panties around her ankles.

Well, I got the screaming into a pillow part right.

We snatched a few minutes of stolen time from the small one. I knew I hadn't the time to immobilize her. I simply told her to assume the position in my mind and to pretend she is bound. She did as she was told and I gave her a "Good Girl" as I lifted the skirt to expose her swollen lips and a very spankable ass. More on that later.

Wetting my fingertip, I traced the outlines of her labia like paint by number art. not exactly sure where I was going here, just looking to make her squirm while insisting she hold still. She did well, and was quite aroused as I traced her slit and opened and probed her petals, deliberately avoiding the places I know to be where she most needs it. She didn't seem frustrated, but I was getting a bit so myself, with a firm erection in my flannel pajamas still lazily attired in since the night before, no underwear to holster it, always feels a little silly to have a pole bobbing and tottering between one's legs.

I could resist no longer the urge to spank her up-turned ass, and smacked it a medium swat. She wriggled into it. I started slow, little swats, tattooing a pattern of even coverage of pink. I find she can take much more pain if the capillaries are already broken and spreading their sub-cutaneous endorphins. One swat on her now somewhat bony portion of her ass elicited a smile from her. Not that it did anything specific for her at that time, but because it was yet another affirmation to herself of the weight she has lost/ At some point as I ramped up the intensity on her right cheek, continuing to neglect the left, I remarked that her ass was stinging my hand a bit, and what did she think I should do about that? She suggested I find an implement to do some of the work for me. "Agreed", I said, "but what?", making her choose. "The belt," she said.

I by this time had my hard cock out pressed against her as I leaned over to hiss coarsely in her ear. Your hand is hot she said, I explained that was heat radiating from my cock pressing it into her side, lance-like. I explained that hurting her was getting me extremely aroused. "How sick is that?" I inquired. "Very sick," she said dripping with lust. I told her she could touch herself while I looked for the belt . (I had anticipated that might take a while. It didn't, but that didn't stop the slut from cumming twice before I got with in range again. SMACK, I said with the tip of the belt. "I didn't say," Smack! "to cum!"

Orgasm denial be dammed, I wasn't denying any of mine! I pressed my tip to her sheath and was annoyed she wasn't wetter. She truly has a Pavlovian response to cock-sucking. She hadn't sucked me at all here so her bell didn't ring I guess. ~shrug~ Pressing the issue, and my cock further I found that in fact that she had plenty of moisture stored in her, I just had to get past her dry, quivering lips. Maybe since she generally kneels to perform fellatio, i just drips from her drenched cunt. Here, I had gravity working against me. Lesson learned, I plunged on, now almost too wet. I considered pulling out and having her lick some of that excess pussy juice, but that seemed circular reasoning, as it would likely get her wetter. I just increased the length of each stroke coming farther out so as to air dry my cock a bit.

I watched fascinated as the two smacks on her right side revealed themselves perfect impressions of the slight taper of my belt's tip. I looked at her unblemished left side and decide to paint there a bit. Being right handed I pulled out so I could get a better angle and concentrate on my work. I gave her three stripes in quick succession starting at the bottom and working up. Unintended it looked like a feathered pattern of a birds wing like one of those eagle tattoos bikers like. Thrilled at my marksmanship, I got out the camera to take a picture, meanwhile she was masturbating from underneath, unbidden, I haven lost track of and all control of the very submissive I was currently beating. This kids, epitomizes ADHD. I told her if she was going to persist in that she needed to at least count off her orgasms.

"How many so far?" I asked, ever keeping score as men tend to do. "I don't know..." she trailed off.

Reaching for a hank of hair at the base of her neck I pulled her face around. "What do you mean , "you don't know"? You were there?" I chided. "How many?"

.............................."Five, I think..."

"You think?" I said tightening my grip. "It's f FIVE!" she corrected herself. "

"Well count them off, then." I said realizing about now that I was doing exactly the opposite of what she had asked for...hence the joke at the top. "I will allow you one minute to reach each". I added needing to maintain some sort of semblance of being in charge of this train wreck of a BDSM session.

Back to my work, I didn't let her distract my aim when in quick succession I hear "6, SEVVVIN..." Losing interest in her orgasms entirely (she doesn't actually need me there, ~shrug~) I watched as over thinking it made the pattern I had in mind a little off. Kinda like how even the best basketball player can miss the mark at the free throw line. I, a novice at swinging a belt, resolved simply that I will do better next time I have a fresh unmarked canvass to work with.
It turned out pretty cool I thought to myself quite geekishly, dunno yet how the pictures turned out.

I don't really remember much about how it is that I came to be fucking her missionary style looking at the glazed look of pain and satisfaction in her eyes, but I do remember that I did have a handful of hair twisted through my fist when I pumped out my own singular orgasm.

I'll make it up to her the next time she asks me, "Make me cum?"

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