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Author's note:
The central theme in this story is Female Domination, specifically teasing and orgasm denial. Some readers may think the guy is a wimp; in this particular story I don't, but some may. It is a BDSM stories! It is about a guy who is dominated and allows it to go on.
If you like the genre, great. I hope you'll like this story and I'd love to hear what you think of the writing, character development, etc.
If you don't like the genre please do all of us a favor, don't read the story and don't comment saying you don't like the genre. Frankly I don't give a shit if you don't like the genre. I do and so do many others. And PLEASE, don't bother telling me the guy is a wimp. I already told you that. If you don't like stories about wimps you'll hate this!
Thanks for tolerating this rant, I think it will improve the readers experience.
All of that said, I really love hearing from readers about any and everything except the genre.
Peter
Now on to the story:
As I woke, Jessie was snuggled up holding me close with her head resting on my shoulder. I could feel her naked skin against mine, her large, firm breasts pressing into my chest. It was a wonderful feeling as I regained full consciousness. I sensed she was awake herself, but was just peacefully lying still. Once completely awake I found myself thinking of the previous evening's activities. The thoughts were causing a bit of stirring in my cock, but after some of the most robust and athletic sex we'd had in a very long time, I must admit it was a very slight stirring. Nevertheless it was a good feeling to go with vivid images of the most satisfying night of sex I could remember in years.
We had pretty much pulled out all the stops. We got out our entire collection of toys, which really aren't very many, but they had been stuck away in a drawer for so long I had to dig around and find fresh batteries for the vibrator to make it so much as hum. The whole evening had been devoted to Jessie's pleasure, not that I didn't get plenty of pleasure on the way by too! But the point had been wanton sexual pleasure for her. I used my hands, my cock, my mouth, even my teeth and especially my tongue to stimulate her almost non-stop for nearly four straight hours.
She had moaned throughout and screamed loudly as each major orgasm, each seemingly more powerful than the last, racked her body. She had thrashed around on the bed and nearly broken my neck by squeezing her thighs together around my head when I had used my oral skills to push her to the most extreme cums of the night. In between the earth shattering major orgasms, I'd kept at her so that her body quivered with almost constant mini-orgasms all evening long. I'd stopped completely only a very few times for breaks of just a few minutes each, to let her catch her breath.
During her night of excess, I'd cum three times myself. Each of those transpired when she argued strongly that she just couldn't take any more. I'd slip inside her, just holding her at first, then as she would begin to calm down, I would start slowly pumping into her. Each time as I increased speed, she would start to thrust back as she approached her own orgasm. These were actually the least intense orgasms, since the intensity of the stimulation was much milder compared to the tongue-lashings I gave her clit or especially the times I used the vibrator directly on her little love button.
When I finally did stop she was totally satiated, and completely exhausted. We'd both long sense lost track of how many times she had cum, but it was probably more than 20 extremely powerful orgasms, and as I already said, an almost constant stream of mini-orgasm in between. She was completely spent and lay there like a limp rag doll. She looked absolutely gorgeous. She had a rosy glow all over. Her nipples were still swollen; her pussy lips all pouty, even puffy looking; she was covered in a sheen of sweat and her hair was sort of plastered to her head.
I went and got a damp warm rag and wiped her face, neck and chest; I ran a brush lightly through her hair; then I pulled the covers up over her. She didn't move through any of it and was sound asleep snoring ever so softly as I walked around the bed to crawl in my side. It only took minutes before I joined her in slumber as I was pretty well spent myself.
In addition to the three times I'd let her calm down while feeling my cock motionless inside her before a nice tender fuck that had her cumming yet again, there had been several other times that I totally ignored her protests of 'too much, stop, please!" and just pinned her down and kept at her clit until the cries of "Don't! . . . Stop!" turned into "Don't stop!" and she would be humping her hips again as she raced toward yet another peak.
Now, before you get the completely erroneous impression that I'm one of those husbands who's attitude is one of ignoring his wife's feelings or protests or even forces her against her will, let me give you some background. In fact both the items that lead up to this night I've just described and the night itself are just the stage setting for the main description of a life altering true story.
After more than 10 years of marriage, our sex life had become boring not to mention rather infrequent. 'Rather infrequent' Hell, who am I kidding, it got very infrequent. We got to the point that weeks would pass between awkward love making sessions, which I found very unfulfilling, and I could tell Jessie did too.
I began to resent the fact that she had lost interest in sex, and then of course I twisted that into thinking that she'd lost interest in sex with me! I started to assume that she wasn't ever interested, since every time I tried to suggest something, or just initiated some intimacy in bed, she was clearly uninterested. It went so far that I'd be irritable and get grumpy easily, but in my infinite wisdom, whenever Jessie asked what was wrong I'd give her my pat, and surly "Nothing's wrong!" Hell, she should have known what was wrong, right?
After this had gone on WAAAAY too long, I'd finally had enough. I was to the point that I was concerned our marriage was going to suffer beyond repair if we didn't do something. So one evening right after dinner I just blurted out, "We have to talk!"
I know, I know, that's the woman's line, but what the Hell.
Now there is one more aspect of this time period I need to explain before I go on with the rest of the story.
One of the ways I had been able to deal with the situation for so long was through the use of fantasy. I'd always spent a little time surfing the net and finding soft porn. I was mostly attracted to story sites and bulletin boards that dealt with various sexual topics. After all how many gifs, jpegs and mpeg clips of tits, pussies, cocks and various sex acts can you look at without getting bored? I'm sure that varies from person to person, but in my case the saturation point is low. I find my mind does a much better job of taking me into the scene through the written word than via visual images. I also found that things far beyond what I'd ever actually consider doing in real life were extremely stimulating in the fantasy world.
After a time I discovered the realm of Female Domination and especially the sub-culture of teasing and orgasm denial, both of which held quite a bit of fascination for me. I read a lot; stories, forum postings, everything I could find. I began to fantasize that Jessie was practicing teasing and denial on me. That she was denying me orgasms for her pleasure and to make mine more intense when she did 'let' me cum. Now I wasn't delusional, just had an active imagination and this was a decent defense mechanism for the fact that I had a lousy sex life. I went so far as to tease myself by stroking my cock until I almost came, then stopping. Sometimes I'd do this several days in a row to see what it was like. But I always broke down and gave myself an orgasm every few days. It worked to the extent that it gave me a sort of Walter Mitty sex life, but it still wasn't much.
I did notice that the longer I could hold out between orgasms the more it was all I thought about, Duh! But I also started to notice that since I was pretending Jessie was the one in control that I was much nicer to her and doted on her more. I'd read about this effect that women who practice T & D have on their men and was beginning to understand it. The fact that Jessie wasn't even aware of what was going on, naturally severely diminished the impact and when after a few days of extra attention nothing changed about our sex life, which was my real expectation in the first place, I'd just give myself a good strong orgasm and the was the end of it.
I finally reached the point where I'd had all I could take and decided to confront Jess.
"What about?" she asked in response to my 'We have to talk!'
"Jessie, I think our marriage has a serious problem" I started out, thinking I was in control of the conversation and was the aggrieved party.
"No shit! You've figured that out already have you? What's it taken, a year? I'm actually surprised you've noticed. In fact I recently read an article about sex and marriage. Jack we don't just meet, we blow the Hell out of the definition of a sexless marriage!"
Frankly I was stunned, if she was aware of all this and apparently angry about it too, why was she causing it to go on.
Before I could say a word she raced on, heating to the topic, "In fact I've seriously considered leaving you, but I love you way to much for that. Since you've brought it up, however, we better do something before it really is too late!"
I was completely flabbergasted with her reaction, "If that's how you feel, how come you never want to make love?"
"ME! What about you? You don't even come to bed with me any more!"
"That's because it's too frustrating for me to lay next to you wanting you so badly and being rejected all the time!" I nearly yelled.
I won't bore you with a replay of the whole scene, but our 'conversation' nearly turned into an out and out brawl, not physical, but an extremely heated argument until it finally dawned on each of us that we were totally misreading the other. We each calmed downed a bit and finally had a rational conversation each telling the other our perceptions and feelings. We were almost laughing at the end, but not quite. It was too sad that this had happened, and we both realized, had nearly become a disaster.
We had been victims of one of the worse cases of marital miscommunication on record. At least we got it straight how much we still loved each other and that each of us was unhappy with our sex life and wanted to get it back on track. We went to bed and attempted to begin remedying the situation that very evening. I say attempted because we weren't entirely successful. We'd both accumulated a lot of baggage in the prior several months and it was going to take some time to fix it all. We even went to counselors a few times to get some help.
I'm happy to report we rather quickly did get back on track and began to enjoy sex much as we had in the early days of our marriage. And that almost brings me back to the Saturday night of sexual saturation for Jessie I've just described.
However, in spite of the fact that we were back to having an active sex life, it still seemed to me that it was pretty plain vanilla, boooring! So having made some serious progress by talking openly and honestly I expressed my feelings. Some of the sessions with our counselors had brought this out and I felt ready to bring it up. I thought.
One evening I worked up the courage to explain how I felt.
"Jessie, don't you have some fantasies you'd like to experience?" I began.
She looked a little surprised. "Well ever since Tom and Sally talked about it, I have given it thought from time to time" she replied hesitantly.
Tom and Sally were Doctor and Doctor Johnson, our counselors. A husband and wife team who worked with couples. Joint sessions plus him on him, her on her individual sessions as well. They had talked about sex as play and the role fantasy held in a healthy sexual relationship.
I swallowed hard and plunged ahead. "Well, we finally seem to have our sex life back, but it seems," I was waffling "it seems kind'a boring. You know tab A, slot B. No excitement. None of the things we used to do. Boy on top, girl on bottom. Pump, pump, cum, done!"
She blushed a little, I could tell from her body language she'd had the same thoughts, but was also reluctant to express them.
"Well, since you bring it up, I, uh, sort'a, think that too. I was afraid to say anything, because we've made so much progress, but yeah, I'd kind'a like it to be even more!" she said, finally warming to the topic.
"Come on babe, we only got it back together by talking. We need to keep talking and be honest with each other. So how 'bout this, you tell me a sexual fantasy that you have, and I'll do my best to make it come true. Then we can switch and I'll tell you one, what'd'a think?"
I think I actually held my breath in while waiting for her to respond, but much to my pleasure and a bit to my surprise she took to the idea right away.
"Uh, well, okay, yeah, lets try that" she replied stumbling over her words.
"So, what does that sexy body and sexy mind want?" I asked, trying to be as positive, rather than complaining, as I could be.
"Well, there is something that even in our early days when sex was great and uninhibited, I never experienced and always thought I'd like to try!" she said, no longer tentative and clearly becoming enthused about this idea.
I managed to keep from screaming with glee, and asked coolly, or so I thought, "What is that?"