Walter and his consensually denied wife, Marie, ramp up their relationship and experiment with ways to have sex without putting Marie over the edge. Sensitive content rating, 3k words.
Content warnings/tags: consensual clit torture; clit pinching; squirting without orgasm
Walter had had a supremely good day.
He'd been recognized at work for his contributions in pulling in their newest client, netting him a fat bonus check and a promise of a future promotion. His wife, Marie, had been ecstatic at the news; to celebrate, they'd gone out to dinner at one of their favorite restaurants together.
Now, he was laying in bed, finishing the latest crime thriller that he'd picked up. Marie lay stretched out next to him, soft and smoldering, patiently waiting for his attention. An excellent end to an excellent day.
Walter brushed his hand idly up and down the silky skin of Marie's thigh, and Marie's breath caught as her legs trembled.
He smirked at his book. Maybe patient wasn't the right word.
Walter and Marie had been married for four years, and Marie had chosen to live a life of near-complete orgasm denial for the past three.
The two of them had built up to it slowly. Marie had gone longer and longer stretches without coming--two weeks, then three, then a few months--allowing her body and mind to adjust, and allowing the both of them to learn how to maintain her denial together, how to keep her body simmering without boiling over, while still allowing her to give Walter all the pleasure she wanted to share with him.
And then, finally, they had agreed together that she was ready for long-term denial.
Now, she only had the opportunity for one orgasm per year: on their wedding anniversary, Walter would ask her whether she wanted to keep being a good girl or whether she needed to come.
The first year, she'd begged and pleaded until he fucked her to a howling, squirting orgasm. The second year had been much the same, although she'd cried after, confessing that it felt like a failure, that she had given in to the needs of her body.
Even though Walter had reassured her at the time, he hadn't been so surprised when, the third year--their most recent anniversary--Marie had instead begged him to help her stay a good girl, to not give her the release that her body burned for.
Now, a month later, he could already tell that her need was soaring to new heights. The wetness between her thighs was even more persistent, and almost creamier, as if her pussy thought that it needed to make a better effort to entice him. She could only stand the shortest of touches to her sensitive clit and damp, swollen labia before she was warning him that she was close--in case he didn't notice from how her body shook and her stomach tensed.
Anal had always been a very safe activity before, but just the other day, he'd been fucking her in the ass when she'd started making increasingly worried noises before finally begging him to stop. Walter had obediently pulled out, leaving her ass gaping and her cunt dripping like a faucet; in response, she'd gone wild, writhing wildly on the bed and nearly crying from frustration, declaring it the hardest edge she'd ever felt, her fingers digging into Walter's shoulders in a desperate bid to keep her hands off of her shuddering pussy.
Even now, Marie lay in bed, entirely captivated by just the gentle touch of his fingers on her thigh. She was staring at the ceiling, her gaze unfocused, as if her mind was empty of anything except the slow drag of his skin against hers.
"Hnn," she whined, a quiet, helpless little noise, as he traced his fingers up her thigh and over the crease where it met her hip. "Walt..."
Walter put his book aside and flipped to kneel over her, bracketing her squirming hips with his knees. He hooked a finger into the crotch of her panties, pulling them away from the heat of her body, and laughed when he saw the long string of fluid that connected the two.
"Look at that. Hard day today, love?"
"Yes," she admitted, then she cried out when he dropped his head down and sucked at one of her exposed nipples between his lips. "Oh! Oh--Walt!--"
She lifted her hips and humped a few times, as if trying to grind against him, but he left enough distance between them to keep her honest as he ran his tongue over the nub. It rose up eagerly to meet his tongue, almost as eagerly as her clit had; he missed sucking on her there, but these days she could get close to the edge at just the sight of his head going between her thighs, so that was one of the activities that was off the table.
She had never come from her nipples yet, though, so he could suck on those as much as he wanted.
Marie had stopped trying to form words after that first declaration of his name. Now she was just letting out long sobs of pleasure, and when he glanced up at her, her face was screwed up in an acute expression of need. The frantic humping of her hips calmed into something slower, long and undulating, like she was riding the natural rhythm of the lust coursing through her body.
He put a hand on her hip--not to keep her still, just resting it there, feeling her movements--and then matched his rhythm to hers, sucking harder as her hips lifted and then circling his tongue against her sensitive skin when they fell again.
"Augh," she declared loudly the first time he completed that cycle, her hips shaking almost violently as they slammed down into the bed again. "God, Walter, I--ahhh--ahh, ahh!--"
Her whole body went still for a moment, her back bowing and hips lifting as she was frozen in a paroxysm of pleasure, her face contorting further into a bared-teeth grimace.
He pulled his lips from her nipple with a quiet pop, and she groaned breathlessly, her hips beginning to rock again at a quicker pace. He smiled down at Marie, and she stared back, her eyes wild, her eyebrows screwed up in a lost, overcome expression.
"You were saying that you had a hard day?" he asked.
"Walter," she gasped, squirming under him. "I--you can't just..."
She didn't finish her sentence. One of her hands traced up her opposite breast, her fingers not quite brushing her neglected nipple--she wasn't allowed to touch herself; that rule was vital, because she lost control too easily otherwise.
Walter chuckled and leaned down, sucking her other pert nipple into his mouth, and she wailed, arching into him with renewed urgency.
"Ahh! Ahhh--Walt, Walt--Walt--Oh--" she shouted, so loudly that a listener might have assumed that Walter had finally found her limit and had forced her to come from her nipples alone.
But he knew better. He knew from the tense quiver of her muscles against him that she was screaming out the pleasure of her need, not her release.
He reached down and tugged at her panties again, just pulling them away from her body to let the cool air reach her sopping pussy, and he groaned around her nipple when he felt how soaked the fabric was. Marie's answering moan was deep and animal, her hands flailing blindly against the bedsheets.
When he finally pulled away from the second nipple, Marie collapsed like her strings had been cut, blinking rapidly, and a little disappointed noise escaped her throat.
"Tell me about your day," he prompted, working her underwear down her hips to remove them properly as he did. Her cunt, as he exposed it, was absolutely glazed with her syrupy arousal, her clit and her slit both pink and swollen.
When she looked down and saw him staring at her cunt, Marie groaned another of those deep groans, and her cunt pulsed, releasing a small gush of fluid. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Talk to me, Marie," he reminded her, and she made a noise of complaint. Then, finally, with his focus on stripping her and no longer on tormenting her, she seemed to regain control of her words.
"I've been thinking about it. All damned day."
"Thinking about what? This wet little hole?" he asked, thumbing her labia apart to get a good look at her entrance. It gaped open invitingly, and the most primal part of his brain was responding to the sight, his cock hardening swiftly as he felt the urge to claim his extremely sexually-available wife.
"No. Yes," she mumbled, then rolled her eyes, annoyed at her own incoherence. "I realized--it's been a month."
"Since our anniversary?"
She nodded. "That means...thirteen months. Total. This is the first time I've gone thirteen months without coming."
"That's right," he growled, and leaned in to devour her lips this time, kissing her long and hard as she clutched at him. When he pulled back, he said, "That's because you're such a good fucking girl for me, Marie. That's why you're so wet and ready for me, isn't it? That's why you need me so bad? Because you're a good fucking girl."
Marie nodded helplessly, her fingers catching on his back as she began to whimper. "Yes--yes, I want to be good--OH," she yelped as he rocked his hips forward and blunted the head of his cock against her cunt, the tip of it catching in her hole where she was open so wide and ready. "Oh, Walt, no, wait--wait, I'll come, I'm there, I'm there, you can't--!"
"Alright, alright," Walt said, keeping his hips still, even though he wanted nothing more than to drive hard into the hot, soft flesh that was flickering against him, like she was trying to suck him in. "Deep breaths, love. I'm not moving. I'm not going anywhere until you're ready."
