The good news is I didn’t lose control of myself yesterday. Yes, there was good deal of self-abuse and I enjoyed myself very much, but I never quite crossed the line into orgasm. I got right up to the line, but didn’t tumble over.
The interesting bit regarding that is the internal conversation that takes place in the moment of trying to stop whatever it is I’m doing in time to avoid the inevitable. It’s like, “I’m getting really close, I’m getting really close, I’mgettingreallyclose…STOP! Stop, stop, stop!!” And everything grinds to a halt. But in those moments of “I’m getting really close” recognition, there’s this other voice interjecting it’s own agenda.
“I’m getting really close.”
“I’m getting reeeally close.”
“I know. It’s no big deal. You can go further.”
“I’m getting really, really, really close!”
“OK, just think for a minute. Should you stop? I mean, honestly? Imagine how good it’ll feel if…”
“STOP! Stop, stop, stop!!”
The ancient reptile part of my brain conspires with whichever little bits of my higher brain are against this whole orgasm denial thing – not in order to talk me out of stopping, but to distract me for just a tiny bit at the end when I’m so close that even a second’s worth of dithering will mean I go over the falls and squirt violently all over the place. I was there four or five times yesterday but it wasn’t until the last two that things got dangerous. Both times I stopped in time to avoid the internal fireworks, but not in time to avoid ejaculation. So, if nothing else, I’m well milked.
Having the cock as a member of my little party was highly unusual. I’d pull up just in time and look down at it all shiny and slick and it, in turn, looked back up. It doesn’t have a face, but it’s distain for me was apparent.
“Oh, just fucking do it, already!” Throb. Squirt. Throb. Bob.
But no. I didn’t. I did exactly what I was allowed to do and no more. And before anyone thinks of ripping me a new one for my prolonged masturbatory indulgence, remember I had permission.
Afterward, I took a shower and decided it would be best if I put the Steelheart back on, but the 5:00 hot spot I talked about yesterday was still pretty hot. Belle inspected the situation last night before sleep and said she’d give it another 24 hours to heal. I enjoyed my freedom and still hope she might want to take advantage of the situation for herself somehow, but honestly, the distraction of having a cock I can reach down and touch, with real hard erections and everything, is almost too much for me to handle. I will be grateful to be shut off from it again.