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by Laura Dawn Lewis
The Situation
"Why are you waiting?" she asked between breaths as he
continued to thrust inside her. She could tell he wanted to
cum, the veins on his forehead shown blue, strained as if to burst
from his skin. He was sweating, intent and flush from excitement.
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Women are as
frustrated by this as you. |
"You first," he panted, gritting his teeth in
an attempt to control the forces taking over his body and
scrambling his mind with an excruciating need to release.
Freedom was close, so close, yet she seemed so far away from the
same. Beneath him she again pleaded, "Darling, now!
Explode! Now, now, please!"
"No," he grimaces as his body
connects, within and deeper. "You
haven't cum yet. You first!"
But he doesn't know she never will. Not
like this.
Inside, the pounding and fast friction for
minutes at a time have dulled the nerve endings. The only
thing she feels is a numb pounding, vaguely painful now,
increasing in intensity as each thrust crashes into her cervix.
Even her clitoris is useless, numbed too from the repetitive
pounding. To regain the feeling, she knows all must stop for
at least a half hour or longer. But she's set a precedence,
too many times before. Pressure, she's feeling it now, but
not the physical kind. The mental pressure to climax.
She must do it. Somehow she must do it! TOP
He takes such pride in being the man able to
break the "O" barrier, to give her such pleasure and relief.
He is her savior, her deliverer to ecstasy, virile, strong and
loving. She has no desire to love another, only he.
And, as concerned for her, he's postponing his own pleasure so she
too can share. TOP
To cum, he's insisting. An act of
chivalry she both appreciates and dreads. The harder she
tries to comply, the more anxious and further from achievement she
slides. As her level of anxiety rises, her body begins to
dry. Yet another obstacle she now must overcome as the
promise of deliverance slips further from her grasp.
These thoughts scatter about her head as he
continues to do his best to please her. She's now tired,
becoming sore and fatigued, but so wants to make him happy.
Her reward? The ear to ear grin and happy exhaustion he
emanates, proud in his accomplishment to once again please her.
How can she take that away from him? It's one of her favorite
moments, that satisfied grin of a happy little boy, so proud of
himself and the liquid masterpiece he's painted.
TOP
She will not take that away. Next time
she'll try harder, focus more on the tactile within. Next
time. There is always next time.
Closing her eyes, she begins the dance.
The breathing, the words, the panting, moaning and sweat.
She knows the faster she breathes, the more oxygen she takes in,
and with it her skin will glow. To a young man, not well
schooled in women, this would be enough. The proper cry, a
clutch and tensing of the leg muscles, to a young man she' s cum.
Take a man with experience and he will see through this, as will
she because she now knows what it means to cum. Pulsating
within, she uses her Keigle muscles to grab at him, pressing and
releasing in quick succession. She's learn to do this
through sessions with herself and has perfected the art to near
science. She knows she can orgasm; she knows what it
feels like and has studied her body to recreate this for him.
To tell him differently, she hasn't the courage.
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