Yesterday, after we went to bed and Belle told me to get naked, I was cleaving to her and I told her I really wanted to fuck her. After a few more minutes of cleaving and kissing, I added that I really wanted to come inside her.
“Well, that’s not happening tonight,” she said flatly.
This is a seemingly innocuous exchange for a couple our disposition, but in thinking about it afterward, I think it also ably demonstrates how mature our dynamic has become.
Of course, when I say, “I want to come inside you,” it’s implied that I also don’t want her to let me. In the past, I might have neglected to express either sentiment, but we’re a point now that Belle’s confident enough in her position and sufficiently cognizant of what cranks her bunny’s motor that I can say the first thing without having to say the second. Telling her I want to come very badly (even though, as she pointed out, it’s “only” been three weeks since my last time) won’t make her doubt what I really want or her authority over it.
And, you know, it’s way hotter not having to explain myself like that. In fact, I really do want to fuck her and come like a racehorse, but she’s not letting me. Yes, on a macro level, our orgasm denial dynamic is consensual, but down there in the sheets where it gets all micro, she is definitely not letting me have what I really want. She is denying the fuck out of my orgasms. And, apparently, will continue to do so for the next several months.