Belle and I hadn’t had sex before last night since a week ago up at the cabin. She had been enjoying the warm waters of the hot tub while I was with the kids when she came in and told me she needed me to do something for her in the bedroom. I left the boy playing video games and the girl with her art while I walked to the back of the cabin to see what Belle wanted. As I entered the room, she closed and locked the door and dropped her towel.
“You’re going to make me come,” she said.
Holy crap! It’s daylight! The kids are awake in the other room! I’m…all dressed and stuff. Regardless, she laid back on the bed and told me to get my face between her legs.
Her pussy, fresh from the hot bubbly water, was so clean and wet that it almost didn’t feel like itself under my tongue. It was flavorless and smelled of chlorinated water and it took a few minutes before I started to taste her juices start to flow. She told me to get pink and shove it all the way inside her while I licked her clit. I could still hear the little vibe thrumming away, muffled by her soft flesh, while I sucked on her outer lips, reaching up and fingering her nipples, and trying not to grind my stiffly sore tube into the mattress too much.
Eventually, she came with my mouth on her tits and pink sliding all over and into her snatch. Then she told me to leave so she could take a nap. It was all so sudden, hot, and over. I went back out into the living room and pretended like nothing happened, tube thumping in my pants.
Then there was a week where nothing really did happen.
Then there was last night. There wasn’t anything especially interesting about the sex. Functionally, it was like most of what we have: She came while I fingered her and sucked her tits. It was a nice orgasm for her, but like I said, not unlike most of what we do. The difference was how hot I was for it beforehand. I told her, as she informed me she was going to share an orgasm with me, that I wanted to fuck her. I didn’t think for a second that I would, but I wanted to fuck her so bad.
There’s a little rhyme she’s been saying ever since I met her. “Hooray hooray, it’s the first of May! Outdoor fucking starts today!” But upon hearing me whine about how badly I wanted inside her, she changed it up to “Hooray hooray, it’s the first of May! Too bad about your cock today.” Needless to say, I wasn’t going to fuck her.
So then I started with the tit sucking and clit fingering and she came. It was a good one for her, but as soon as it was over I was absolutely out of my mind obsessed about feeling her pussy wrapped around what used to be my cock. I could feel it, warm and wet. Seriously, I’m running out of ways to say just exactly how profoundly fucking horny I was. It almost hurt, I was so horny. Come to think of it, it did hurt as the steel ring bit into the stifled erection’s root.
She got out of bed to pee and I was left there alone, like so many times before I stopped having reciprocal orgasmic rights. In those days, I’d feel the cock, semi-flaccid, laying heavily against my upper thigh, cold and sticky wet with the combined juices of her passion and my climax. The dank smell of semen would be hanging in the air as the ropes of wakefulness fell away and I drifted groggily into a restful sleep. I could feel it all as if it was just yesterday, but really, I can’t even remember when it was anymore. So long ago. Months and months, at least. Maybe longer.
It was another night of restlessness, tossing and turning and semi-wakefulness, always with a full tube. Sometimes, painfully so. I wanted to always be touching her body, either spooning fully into her or, if she was facing me, then at least touching her foor with mine. I craved her contact. I craved her attention. Even in sleep, I wanted all of her.
And I still do this morning. I woke up just as horny and just as desirous of her attention. I’ve been locked up (with the exception of that one day) for a month and have more than another month ahead of me before there’s any hope she’ll let me come, let alone get out of the device. That will be well over the hundred days I offered her back in March. Far, far longer than I’ve gone before between releases. She’s hinted that, when my time finally arrives, that she might let me come more than once. She’s even suggested “a lot.”
It’s all I can think about. Yes, I want to be denied, and yes, I asked for and even offered her this, but I want to come. I want to fuck and come and feel my hand and her pussy wrapped around a fully realized erection. Even if she only gives me one, I need it. Bad.
Just five and a half more weeks.
Dahm. Hot.
My wife’s been locking me a lot more. But she still hasn’t gone with the “so sorry, not going to let you out today” quite yet. A little part of me hopes she will, but for now I’m quite happy she hasn’t.
But that story sure inspires…