Life on the Edge of Orgasm

Chapter 16

It was late morning when I awoke, around 10:00, on a Tuesday in early August, the morning after Mom left for her business trip abroad and Aunt Denise arrived for an extended stay. I lay there thinking back to the events of the night before; I had stayed up late watching a movie with Denise, but my recollection of the film was hazy at best. I lost track of the plot early on, and in fact couldn't remember any of the actors or even the name of the film. It could have been an after-effect of my brain injury, part of the amnesia that had taken away the first 18 years of my life.

But the explanation was much simpler; I was distracted. A number of factors contributed to my state of distraction, including the presence of my Aunt Denise, who at age 27 was no doubt still the star of countless wet dreams of boys and men, sitting there on the sofa wrapped in a robe, which had parted to expose her legs. Maybe it was just me, but I would have paid money to sit there and admire those legs, perfect legs, perfect ankles, perfect feet, toenails perfectly painted a dark shade of purple. It was not insignificant that I did not know what she was wearing underneath the robe, and when I let my imagination run, it had only one place to go: the answer had to be "nothing."

The second contributing factor to my inability to recall anything about the movie, was my own nudity, and Denise's enjoyment of it, and her apparent amusement at my nervousness. With all the recent practice I'd had being naked around women, I thought I would have been much more confident, but the fact is, I'd had the hots for Denise ever since I first laid eyes on her two months prior. I'd actually known her literally my entire life, but as I had utilized a motorcycle and a minivan to erase my memory (which by the way, I do not recommend), she was practically a stranger to me.

So, I found myself sitting naked on the sofa, next to a goddess 10 years my senior, who was also probably naked under the robe, and who had taken a liking to my cock, which erected before the movie started, and did not soften one bit until I had masturbated to an explosive orgasm in my room after the movie had ended. Physical contact between Denise and my cock had been kept to a minimum during the evening, a light touch every now and then. What kept me rock hard for the duration was for the most part mental. She kept looking at it. She wasn't looking at it hungrily, nor suggestively, not particularly sexily (although in my mind, Denise didn't have any look that was not basically sexy); just looking. More or less dividing her attention equally between the TV screen and my dick.

I do love to be teased, even teased and denied, as long there is hope for eventual relief. I consider myself a tease connoisseur, a Subject Matter Expert, if you will. I know what I'm talking about when I say the most enjoyable teasing involves touching; almost constant contact between the hard cock and the cock-teaser's fingers, hands, really any part of her body.

The other kind of cock-teasing, the kind that utilizes primarily the absence of physical contact, while highly effective, produces significant levels of frustration. That was Denise's game on that particular evening. She might have denied it had she been asked, but I'm convinced she knew what she was doing. She kept looking at my dick, which for me always produced an erection, followed shortly by droplets of pre-cum, turning into a continuous flow of pre-cum. Just by looking, she made me want so desperately to cum. The only reason I didn't take it in hand myself, is because she kept reaching over and touching me. Light touches, sometimes the head of my cock, sometimes along the shaft, sometimes just letting her hand linger on my thigh, as close as you could get to my balls without actually touching them. I know now how naïve it was, but those touches were just enough to give me hope of at least a hand job. It was just enough hope to keep me from jerking myself off on the spot. Oh, but I wanted to, so badly.

I remember what a great orgasm I gave myself afterwards. I'd fallen asleep without cleaning up, which explained the significant amount of dried cum on my torso, chest, even a little bit on my chin. My hand was still wrapped around my cock, which was hard as a rock. I don't know whether I slept with my cock in my hand, but it was feeling pretty good, so I started stroking at a leisurely pace. I could hear sounds coming from the bathroom - Michelle was up, brushing her teeth. In a few minutes she walked through the open door and sat down next to me on the bed, watching me stroke without saying anything. When I started breathing heavy and speeding up a little, that's when she decided she wanted to talk.

"So tell me about last night. You didn't come back up after we sent you to the kitchen. What happened?'' she asked.

I described how Denise had tricked me into staying downstairs naked to watch a movie, and how I was so turned on, but she left me high and dry. Michelle scratched at some of the dried cum with a fingernail, giving me a sly smile and saying, "Well it looks like you managed to deal with it." I laughed with her. She was pleased that Denise was cool with my nudity. She wanted me to come downstairs with her for breakfast, but I needed a shower.

"Okay," she said as she walked out the door, "just remember to come down naked."

I was in the shower jerking off when Morgan came into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She laughed and shook her head, and spoke loudly over the sound of the shower, "Don't you ever leave that thing alone?"

I couldn't answer, because I was in the process of shooting jets of cum onto the glass enclosure. I thought that by now I would have become accustomed to walking around naked and jerking off in front of pretty girls, but honestly, it never ever gets old. It is always, always exciting, arousing, amazing; I hoped it would never end.

Chapter 17

I was still naked when I went downstairs for breakfast; it was the first time I'd sat down naked to a meal. Denise was curious about what we'd been doing during the summer, so we were filling her in. The girls did most of the talking. I thought we'd tell her the same story we used for Morgan's friends, that I'd lost a bet. Instead, they launched into the actual story of what really happened, and the way they told it, it did kind of make me look like a bit of a pervert. They said that I just stood there one day naked in front of Michelle, without trying to cover up. After that I started walking around naked in front of her in our rooms. Then Morgan talked about the day they came upstairs to find me sprawled out naked on the sofa, and how I didn't even try to cover up.

"We went along, because we didn't want to traumatize him or anything," Morgan said. "He had an erection during the whole conversation, and when I asked wasn't he embarrassed, he told us he likes it when we see him naked. It makes him feel good. I learned about this in Psych, I told him his perversion is called exhibitionism."

I broke in, "Morgan! You promised not to tell! I agreed to your rules!"

"I promised not to tell MOM."

"It's true," Michelle said, "We told him we wouldn't tell Mom, if he just followed a few simple rules."

"Tell me about the rules," Denise said.

I answered, "I can't wear clothes upstairs unless they tell me to, can't close any doors, can't cover myself, and have to show it to them whenever they say."

"And here you are naked downstairs," said Denise, "I didn't hear that listed as one of the rules."

"It's because Michelle told me to."

"If Michelle told you to run around the block naked, would you do that?"

I took a couple of minutes to think before answering, "I think so."

That brought laughs from Michelle and Morgan, and a smile from Denise. "I concur with your diagnosis, Morgan," she said. We all got a good laugh from that. Denise continued, "Do you mind if I make a suggestion?" She didn't wait for an answer.

"Stephen, this is for your own good; we know you are a flasher, and if you get caught you'll be put on the sex offender registry for the rest of your life, and you might even have to go to prison. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded hesitantly. I knew I wasn't a flasher, but I couldn't tell if Denise was serious, or just playing some kind of head game. I just knew that if it was a game, I wanted in. And even if it wasn't, I was not capable of denying her anything she asked, especially not while standing there naked in the presence of true beauty three times over.

"Good. Okay, here's what I recommend. First, for the time that I'm here while Virginia's gone, you are not to wear any clothes at all, any time, upstairs, downstairs, no exceptions, unless I tell you to. Second, in addition to the rules you already have, I want you to do what you are told by myself or your sisters, and I do mean anything, no exceptions. Do you agree, or do you want some time to think about it?"

They all turned to me for my answer. I looked into their eyes; Morgan and Michelle were clearly excited; they looked like children on Christmas Eve. I couldn't imagine what was going through their heads. Denise, on the other hand, appeared confident and in control, like she knew exactly what she was doing. After checking to make sure the girls weren't watching her, she gave me a little smile and slight nod of encouragement. I don't really know why I hesitated; my dick had sprung to attention as soon as Denise started giving instructions. I was downright infatuated with her; I'd have done anything for her. I'd have done almost anything for Michelle, and there's not much I would have refused Morgan, but for Denise, at that moment, she so totally owned me, body and soul.

"Okay," I said.

"Good deal," said Denise, "you made a good choice. Now I have some work to do, but right after lunch, if you're all free, I want to teach you a game, I think you'll really like it."

"What's it called?" asked Michelle.

"Doesn't really have a name - my friends and I made it up, but we play it all the time, just wait and see."

Denise was an aspiring artist. She had a studio where she did her serious artwork, and had even sold a few pieces, but not enough to make a living. To pay the bills, she worked as a freelance graphic artist, which she could do anywhere with an internet connection. That meant she could spend the whole day at home.

The morning went by pretty quickly; the girls disappeared on some errands or shopping or something, and I spent the morning playing video games. My physical therapy was down to once a month, and we had discontinued the personal training. I would be cleared to drive in a few days, so I would probably join the gym. I was secretly planning to find a way to rehire Jocelyn, but in the meantime, I was taking it easy. I made my own lunch and ate in front of the computer.

Chapter 18

Around 1:00, Michelle came in to tell me we were gathering in the game room with Denise. I didn't waste any time jumping up and following her down the hall. The four of us sat around the game table, and Denise began explaining the game. There was no game board, no dice, no cards, not even pencil and paper. She did have her cell phone on the table, with what looked like a timer or stopwatch app.

"This is a game that some friends and I made up back in college. It's evolved some over the years, but we always have a really good time with it. Usually, we play with 3 or 4 or 5 women and 1 man, but it works just as well with 2 girls or it can be more, depending on the guy. Sometimes we have more than 1 man."

She spoke in a normal, matter-of-fact voice that to me seemed inconsistent with the subject matter.

"There are usually two parts to the game, but sometimes you only do the first part, it depends on the man. In part one, the girls are eliminated, one at a time. If all but one are eliminated, she's the winner and you don't do part two. But if the remaining players all agree, then you move on to part two. In part one, you lose if you make the man cum. In part two, you WIN by making him cum."

At this point, Morgan, Michelle and I all had expressions of disbelief on our faces. Mine probably looked a little more like panic, and theirs' a little more like excitement.

"Here's how it works. On your turn you have 60 seconds. During part one, you're trying to get him so close to cumming that he shoots off while the next girl is touching him. When your turn ends, the next girl has to start within 10 seconds. During part two, your objective is to make him cum. You have to wait at least 15 seconds after the last turn ends before you can begin. That's why it depends on the man. Some guys take a lot more work for the second cum, or the third, or whatever. One more rule: when it's your turn, you have to maintain contact with the dick, skin on skin, and you have to keep it moving. You can do whatever you like with your other hand. Any questions?"

I just sat there staring at her in disbelief. Morgan asked, "Will you show us how to get him close to cumming without making him cum?"

Denise answered, "Sure I will. We can even do a practice round or two if you like."

Michelle asked, in an uncharacteristically timid voice, "Will you show us how to make him cum?"

"Oh, you poor thing, you've never done a hand job. We haven't been spending nearly enough time together - I guess that's my fault. Sure, I'll give you all the help you need."

Morgan had one more question, "You said we can do whatever we want with our other hand. What sorts of things would we do?"

"Good question. I'll tell you some of the things I've seen people do: tickle his balls, squeeze his balls, slap his balls, slap his dick, wet your fingers with...with yourself and stick 'em in his mouth. Use your imagination."

I could not believe what I was hearing. I thought I was going to pass out, it felt like my entire blood supply was headed for my dick. I swear my erection looked noticeably bigger than I remembered it.

"Tell you what," Denise said, "why don't we wait until tonight to play, and I can spend the afternoon teaching you some basic techniques."

At that point, I was aware of some conversation going on, I could hear their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. I doubt anyone in the history of the universe had ever been as aroused as I was at that moment. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear my pulse, my head was covered in sweat, my mouth was dry and hanging open, my eyes must have glazed over, my vision was a little blurry and starting to gray out around the edges. Strangely, it reminded me of something I'd read about the effects of g-forces on fighter pilots, reducing blood supply to the brain.

I heard a loud voice, "Get him some water!"

I felt hands grasping my arms and lifting. The girls walked me over to the sofa and helped me lie down.

"I'm ok," I said, "I just felt a little faint for a minute there."

I heard Morgan laugh and say, "No wonder, all your blood left your brain and ended up in your dick!"

That drew laughter from Michelle, but Denise was really concerned. I was still classified as a brain injury patient, and required to report any blackouts or dizzy spells to my doctors. The mood darkened; even Morgan started to look worried. They all understood the significance of any neurological symptoms.

I was a little concerned myself. Because I had experienced some very intense and thorough cock-teasing while in the hospital, I was surprised by my body's response to the anticipation of an afternoon of cock-teasing. It took a moment for me to figure out why it happened. In the hospital, even though my cock-teasers were very experienced and extremely talented, I was not even the tiniest bit attracted to them, sexually. Not that there was anything wrong with the nurses - they were just of a body type that did not appeal to me personally.

In my present situation, I would be in the hands of the very women of my fantasies. Literally in their hands! They were just as anxious to get their hands on my cock as I was to get my cock into their hands. A man could go his entire lifetime and never have an opportunity like this. I had to make it happen - I owed it to every boy who was ever born or would be born. I knew that I needed to exercise some serious self-control, to pull myself together, to convince them that I could proceed.

After a couple minutes I sat up and began to try to explain. It wasn't easy - I knew I couldn't just come right out and say, "I was just overcome by the desire to fuck the three of you," but worried that if I opened my mouth, that's what would come out. I looked down and saw that my erection had never even begun to soften. That would have to be my strategy.

"When I realized what you were talking about doing," I began. There was a momentary pause while I carefully considered my words. "Well, it's just so...you know...damn hot." The three of them were still looking very concerned. I knew how worried they were for my health because none of them took their eyes off my face even for a second to look at my cock, which really never happened.

"Look," I said, looking down at my lap. It occurred to me that it was the first time I'd ever actually told a woman to look at my cock. I laughed out loud at the thought, and continued, "I'm still hard as a rock. There's your proof."

They all looked. God that turns me on so much. Denise was the first to use her hand to confirm my hardness. Morgan and Michelle immediately followed suit. For a moment I had three beautiful hands feeling the firmness of my cock. I just leaned back and smiled ear to ear. How could it get any better? Of course it could get better, but that was before I'd ever put my dick into a vagina. Or a mouth, for that matter. And if I had, I wouldn't have remembered it.

That did the trick. "Okay," said Denise, "let's get started. But, we're going to take it easy on you at first, just to be safe. How do you girls want to start?"

Morgan said, "I want to make him cum, first."

They arranged themselves with Denise on my left, handling my cock with her right hand and Morgan on my right. Michelle had pulled up a chair directly in front of me.

"Okay, since he's already hard and primed, it's pretty basic, if all you're going for is to make him cum. You just wrap your hand around it like this..." She wrapped her hand around it. I leaned my head back. I wanted to watch her hand on my cock, but the sight of all three of them watching it was even better.

"When there's this much pre-cum, you don't need any other lubricant," she explained. Then she started moving her hand. All the way to the top, then all the way to the bottom. One full stroke, then she stopped and started talking again.

I was so turned on, breathing so heavily, I had to open my mouth wide to get enough air into my lungs. I knew that if she did nothing else but hold it like that, I would probably cum in a minute or less. She was explaining how, when a boy is as horny as I was right then, that basic stroke would do the trick in no time. "If you want to make it last, go real slow and use a loose grip," she said, demonstrating another very slow, loose stroke. All the way up, and all the way back down. "If you want to make him cum quickly, it takes a tighter grip and faster motion."

I drew it a deep breath, moaned softly, and whispered, "Oh god please don't stop now." Of course, she stopped and pulled her hand away. I exhaled loudly, then drew in another deep breath and held it in.

"Are we hurting him?" asked Morgan.

Denise answered by addressing me, "Stephen?"

I shook my head no, and spoke softly, "it just...feels...so...good..." I exhaled completely, and filled my lungs again.

"He's so close," Denise said, "It won't take much to make him cum right now. Notice how he's twitching, and how his testicles have lifted close to his body. Let's give him a few minutes to recover, then you can do it, Morgan." Then she addressed me, "Tell us how you feel right now, Stephen."