His tongue was on my clit. Again and again the warm, wet roughness of it flicked across that button of flesh, making me rise higher and higher into a familiar plane of excitement. I was moaning and groaning with a pleasure that began to feel like an aching agony of wanting to cum. Ron knew how to make me cum. He knew me like a book he'd written himself. He could make me cum fast or slow, tease me for a half an hour or make me shudder with an orgasm within minutes, however he chose. Every sound I made, every movement of my body as I tensed or relaxed, told him how close I was to cuming.
He loves hearing me scream in the catharsis of my orgasm, but he didn't really need me to tell him I was getting close. Very close. I could feel the blood surging in my cunt, hot and throbbing. I couldn't ignore how swollen and hard my clit felt as he ran his tongue over it again and again. My heart was racing and I wanted to grind my pelvis into his face to push myself over the brink into release.
Suddenly though, with a shock to my system, Ron stopped. Stopped cold. I sank back and tried to catch my breath, tried to calm the racing in my mind, the confusion of the moment, sensations at cross purposes.
Let me explain. Ron has been my lover for almost six months now and I am still constantly enthralled with the man. We enjoy pushing our boundaries sexually and are always trying something new to surprise and delight one another. Trust is so complete between us that we are accustomed to saying "Yes" to almost any suggestion.
"Can I tie you up?"
"Sure."
"Can I fuck you in the ass?"
"Sure."
"Can I spank you?"
"Sure."
These are things we have each said and done to each other. So when Ron told me he was going to be in charge one day last week and that, furthermore, he was going to keep me on the edge of excitement all day long but not let me cum, I agreed to go along with the experiment in self denial. After all, our occasional master/slave relationship is based on acquiescence, not coercion. I willingly give up power to him by choice.
Everything, after all, is a choice. I choose how much I eat each day. I choose to be living with Ron. I choose to let him be my master sometimes sexually, knowing that if I need to, all I have to say is "Stop" and he will honor it. I rarely say it. I rarely say "No" either, choosing, rather, to trust him and try whatever it is he wants me to do.
Part of it is knowing he loves me deeply and would never intentionally harm me. Oh, he might get excited now and then and pinch my nipples a little too hard and make them hurt a bit for a second or spank me a few too many times and make my ass sting like hell for a minute, but never would be really do me any damage. Of that I am certain.
So, one mere day without an orgasm, if that's what he wanted to do, was OK with me. I was happy to go along with the program and just enjoy being continually turned on over and over all day, knowing that undoubtedly, the following day we would go back to our usual habit of having such great sex that I cum over and over and over again till I'm flooded with such intense sensations that it feels like my whole body is going to explode when the orgasms build one on top of the other.
Ron is amazing. Wonderful. He's the best, the sexiest, the most enthusiastically attentive lover I've ever had. I feel spoiled and pampered and continually dumbfounded at how much pleasure he seems to get out of giving ME pleasure. So, I knew I was in for it. A whole day of tantalizing sex without the usual satisfaction. But that was all right because that's what he wanted to do and I like letting him have his way. That may not sound surprising unless you know how fiercely independent I used to be. I NEVER use to let men tell me what to do in or out of bed, so this is all still quite new for me. Maybe that's part of the allureโfinding someone I love enough and trust enough to let go and let them take over. Complete capitulation.
I've let him do things to me I've never done before. I've done things to him I've never done with anyone else. We've done things new for him for the first time too. And every time we pass one of those boundaries it just makes me feel closer to Ron, to love him more, to feel more excited, more turned on by a single passionate kiss when he gets home from work each day because it is full of the promise and potential of every sexual encounter we have shared so far in this wild six months.
So, one second his tongue was on my clit with me on the brink of a shattering orgasm and the next second I felt an intense let down, a sudden absence of sensation that left me with a different type of tingle. It was almost like a shadow, a ghost of a shiver that left my cunt feeling amazingly horny but somehow very much alive.
It was a stunning contrast and since I had chosen to go along with this day of self denial I had decided not to get all bent out of shape with frustration. This was going to be a live-in-the-moment, a go-with-the-flow day. It wasn't hard to remember though, how years ago with any of several former lovers, getting to that almost-cuming place of intense excitement and then find the guy suddenly asleep next to me in the bed.
The next thing I felt after that, then, was the fingers of my own right hand on my clit while I masturbated to orgasm rather than lay there feeling horny and abandoned. Ron was not abandoning me though. We were just pushing the envelope on step further. Seeing how much teasing I could take and how I would handle it, handle letting him be in command. Well, so far so good. But the day was young and I didn't know what more he had in store for me really. I just had trust.