Belle doesn’t like it when I think about how long it’s been since I last came. She doesn’t care for record keeping or counting days or recognizing feats of endurance or anything like that. I come when she wants me to, period. When did I last come? When she wanted me to.
But I have it bad today. Real bad. She let me fuck her this morning after she came and it felt incredible and I really enjoyed it and once again totally psyched myself into thinking she was going to let me go all the way. I got close and slowed down and thought, sure, she’s just dragging it out. Enjoying it. So I let the orgasm retreat and I shifted position and kept my breathing steady before picking up the pace again. Oh my GOD it was wonderful and I was very grateful she was making me wait because it was so much better and I felt myself closing in on it again but she wasn’t saying anything so I again did what I had to do to let it fall back. When I resumed, it was at a pace that would culminate with orgasm. This time she’d let me and it would be amazing and my head would explode and I’d shoot a ton so she’d overflow with it and FUCK it was going to be the best thing ever and wow it wasn’t taking long before I felt like I was getting close again.
I looked at her as I fucked her. She looked back.
“What?” she asked.
Oh, FUCKING HELL.
“OK, time to stop, Thumpie.”
A palpable sense of loss flooded up. I wasn’t going to come and it pained me to know it. I was seriously on the verge of tears. I wanted it so badly. It was right there. So close, but still behind her iron gate. Not going to happen. If she had said I could, it would only take two and half thrusts to get there. But she wasn’t going to say it and all I could do was collapse into her neck and feel the lizard coil up hard inside me, bitter with disappointment that flowered after being planted in a fertile expectation to which it had no right.
I made a small, defeated noise. She thought it was funny. She sniggered. I whimpered.
And now I’m sitting here typing and still wishing I could come. I still feel the need and it’s distracting and consuming and driving me crazy. I read back on the blog and found the last real orgasm I had even though she doesn’t like me to think about it. July 7th. So we’re just over two months. Record is nine. She wouldn’t think two is that much. That I could do more. Also, stop counting. Stop thinking about it. You come when I want you to. That last time you came was when I wanted you to and the next time will be when I want you to. When will that be? Stop thinking about it.
If I was locked up right now, I don’t think I’d be worrying about it as much. The physical presence of the steel restrains me physically as well as psychically. If I were locked up, it’d free me to think about other things. Oh, I’d still think about wanting to come, but it’d allow room for other things to sneak in. But being free means I’m consumed by my desire. It pushes everything else out.
I need to be locked up. Right now. But Belle’s not here and I’m not feeling like I have the willpower to do it myself. God, I want to come so bad. I crave it like nothing else. But I don’t need to come. It’s probably best if I don’t. And I clearly don’t deserve it.
Not that it matters. I come when she wants me to.