"Why didn't you let yourself come this afternoon?" She was sitting up in the bed, a pool of her come staining the sheets. She had her knees up under her chin looking at his erection and wishing she could do for him what he had just done for her.
Or maybe that's what he feels every time! OHMYGOD
. The realization made her eyes grow.
"You're not ready." He was drying his hands and arms. He had been coated by her release.
She looked at him confused. The glow in her head held her in a gentle embrace. She wasn't sleepy. Just the opposite: she was ready to go dancing again. She could get addicted to this drug. It was unlike any high she'd ever been on and she understood why he was always still hard after "climaxing." She could do it again.
"It would be dangerous for you. You aren't prepared." He saw she wasn't buying it. "It's different for men and women. I don't know why, but every female novitiate would come and still reach the desired....
state
...but men can never do it and release. We have to keep it in."
"But that must pass after awhile, right? I mean Tantric gurus, or yogis or whatever...they have kids, right?"
The reference wasn't lost on him. He joined her on the bed, stroking her thigh and calf. She shivered from the remnants of her orgasm...if that's what it was.
"When the time is right – and with the right partner." He saw she didn't take it the way he meant it. "A partner who's prepared to accept it."
"But what happened to you today? You said you almost lost it..." She wanted to feel his cock in her, even if he wasn't going to ejaculate; maybe she could take another dip in that river.
She pushed down his knees and rolled her leg over his. Facing him, she pushed her mound against his erection. Looking down it was almost impossible to tell whose cock it was. He stroked her back, his eyes staring at her. She loved seeing those eyes. She inched forward, pushing his shaft against her clit and then slowly, slowly she moved her cunny up to the tip, coating him with her juice.
She slid over the top and carefully pushed him into her. She didn't know what to expect: he'd just had his fist inside her and she was sore, but she was worried she wouldn't feel him; that she would be too stretched out. She settled down on his lap, feeling his cock pulse inside her and challenged him to go on.
"There's a purpose to it after all. It isn't just about abstinence. So, from a medical perspective we know pretty much what semen is composed of, right? Sperm, of course. A few lubricants, some sugars and some salt – it primarily is meant to make the environment safe for the sperm to get to their target. We know when a man orgasms small amounts of hormones are released through the limbic system, along with several other elements, nitrous oxide to relax the blood vessels of the penis, adrenaline and so forth."
She ran her hands on his nipples moving herself back and forth in tiny motions, feeling his head push against
that
spot, her clit rubbing on his pubic bone.
"We also know that when men don't ejaculate frequently, the sperm can be malformed, the semen clumpy. But what happens when a man orgasms and doesn't ejaculate, for
25 years?
Western medicine has never studied that because it's so outrageous. The Hindi's have, however. Not with a Western medical model of course, so its apples and oranges, but they have seen what results from withholding semen time after time after time, for years on end."
She shifted a little more, now ducking her head to taste his nipples. She loved how tiny they were, how erect they got when she sucked them.
"There is a story of a village deep inside India that had been threatened by a rival tribe. This was centuries ago, when conquering armies swept across the Indian plains almost as frequently as monsoons. The guru there had been studying Tantric practices for several years and had a glimmer of an idea of what might be coming in the months ahead. With his novitiates, he carefully devised a plan such that each member of the village – man, woman and child – would partake of his semen. He had hoped that in providing them with it, he would bond them all together into a unit more cohesive than any words could do."
She had closed her eyes and now she opened them, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Is this for real?"
"It's how the story goes. Weird, yeah? But wait, it gets weirder. The plan worked. At least with respect to the warring tribes. The village was hard hit, but they fought with a ferocity none of the attackers had seen anywhere else in the region. So many were killed, on both sides, that the village's reputation spread to other would be conquerors, and for hundreds of years it was avoided.
"But the villagers weren't spared completely. Even with just the small amount the guru had provided, they were all hooked. They were like addicts from that moment on, praying to him, begging him to provide them more. After the marauders had left, the town was as if it were haunted, its inhabitants moving like ghosts in a fog."
"And that's it? He comes, the villagers are hooked, and now I don't get to taste you because you're afraid it's addicting?" The residual white glow in her head was wafting away, made more apparent to her by the growing arousal from his cock in her pussy.
It's not the same. It's not going to happen.
"That's not the only story of its kind. Just last year a similar story came through the grapevine. It's not something I want to trifle with."
"Is it just eating it, or does it have the same effect in other mucous membranes?" She tucked her knees under her, spread her legs to feel the air against her lips and rose up to pull him out almost all the way. She looked down at his cock, licking her lips.
"Apparently it's the same effect no matter how it's transferred or where," he was aroused by her efforts. He loved seeing her this way, but it was a far cry from what she would need to do to get any of his cum inside her.
"I want to do it again." As if what she'd been doing hadn't made that desire obvious.
"Not tonight. It won't happen." He leaned into her and nuzzled her breasts, his fingers kneading her buns.
"But you do it all the time. Why can't I?" There was only a hint of whining; mostly she was frustrated.
"When I first started, months into my training, I had to go weeks between sessions to make sure I bathed in the river rather than climaxing. It took years before I was able to do it more than once in an evening." He bounced her up and down a little, hoping to at least reduce some of the disappointment by impaling his cock as deeply in her as possible.
She groaned. The stimulation was wonderful, but it wasn't the same.
"We haven't done it for a week. You were teased all day today. It takes that kind of situation to set the stage for it."
She looked at him, frustrated and a little angry: her suspicions after Antoinelle had whispered during the dance were well founded.
He's playing me. Again.
He held her down, forcing himself into her deeper and pulled on her right nipple with his lips, forcing a cry of pain/pleasure from her. He could feel her getting moist again, the liquid beginning to drench his balls. It would be best to
not
bring her over the top so soon. It would be so anti-climatic. He smiled at the play on words.
She didn't stop him; it felt too good in spite of feeling duped. Another part of her brain told her to shut up and enjoy all he'd done for her: he'd set up the day to give her a gift she'd never have experienced otherwise. She let him continue to fuck her, his lips on her nipples felt fantastic.
She pushed him back against the head board and rode his cock in earnest. She was a little sore from the fisting, and she felt a little stretched, but pushing against him, from the base of his cock all the way inside her, it more than made up for any discomfort. She realized they'd never done it this way before and she was enjoying the power-play position.
"But..." He continued, pulsing his cock on her down-stroke, "I think I might have a way of accelerating the process." He moaned a little as she tweaked his nipples with her fingers. "Remind me to tell you about it tomorrow."
As hard as she tried, she knew she wasn't going to climax again. It felt so good, but the more she rubbed, the white glow only dissipated faster; the orange glow grew, but it wasn't the same.
"Shit." Her frustration differed from the teasing she'd had all day, but it was frustrating nonetheless.
"You're trying to come, aren't you." He was breathing heavily; her movements were intensifying. "Maybe...maybe... you...should... just...enjoy... the...ahhhhhh.... the...god that feels good...the...moment."
She felt him stiffen and shudder and knew she had brought him over the edge. She kissed his face, watching his eyes roll back. She covered his cheeks and eyelids with her lips, lightly peppering his skin, the triumph of her power to make him climax winning over her own frustration. She leaned forward, pushing her breasts against his chest, resting her chin in the crook of his neck. She felt his cock pulsing and imagined he was cumming inside her; that she was ready to accept it. For a fleeting second, she entertained the idea of being his slave if that's what it would take to feel him flood her with his seed.
* - * - * - *
