Steven's Project

PART III - PUSSY PET

It's only been a few weeks since Steven gave me my first edge, and even if I wanted to, there's no way I could ever go back to the way things were before. For the first time in my life, I truly feel fully 'awake.'

Steven now allows me to express my gratitude to him with my mouth during our morning edging session, and I will happily report that his cock is every bit as impressive as I had guessed while ogling his bulge. Ever since I first took it into my mouth, I can't keep it out of my mind. I fantasize about taking it between my lips during the day, and at night I wake up dripping and squeezing from dreams about the delicious look on his face when he feels my tongue swirl around the tip. His face - usually so confident - takes on a boyish vulnerability as his mouth drops open in pleasure. I simply can't get enough.

When I actually get him into my mouth, flesh to flesh contact with his cock conducts the strongest and most exquisite electric charge down to my pussy that I've experienced yet, accompanied by more vivid fantasies of him pushing into and entering my pussy, and more telltale almost-real echoes of sensation. He is practicing with me, preparing me for the real thing.

I want to wrap my legs around his perfect ass and fuck that gorgeous dick more than anything I have ever wanted in my life, and I can sense that it is coming as soon as I am ready to handle it. But after a simple kiss sent me out of control and begging for him, I am doing my best to be patient. Steven knows, and I trust.

In the meantime, he is introducing his touch to me slowly. Carefully. Gently. Putting me through my paces like a thoroughbred mare. When I report to him in the morning, I kneel for him in the sexiest outfit I can muster: makeup and hair perfect, a low-cut dress, and the hottest lingerie from my ever-expanding sex wardrobe. I spread my legs wide, so I can feel the air teasing my bare pussy. I look up into his eyes through my mascara lashes, pull my boobs out of their cups, and place them in his hands so he can squeeze and tug on my hard nipples.

While he tugs and I suck, I ride from edge to edge on the highest plateau of pleasure. Meanwhile, he makes my ears dance with his words. He tells me how much he is looking forward to exploring my body, how impressed he is with my progress, and how enjoyable he finds it turning me into his pussy pet. He encourages me to remain resolute in my dedication.

He recognizes all the small things I do every day that exhibit the powerful, free woman I am already, and am becoming more and more every day. I have never felt so fully and completely understood and held by a man.

Orgasms are rare these days, but they are the cherry on top of my new, sexually-charged life. Steven gives them to me as a reward for good behavior, and I am fully invested in pleasing him. I spend much of my time daydreaming of creative ways to submit to him and display my dedication.

As rare as my orgasms are, however, they are still more common than his. He has yet to actually let me bring him to climax, and I am awed by his stamina and control. He is a man unlike any other.

Usually when he gives me permission to climax it's self-administered, but recently he's started testing me with his fingers whenever it pleases him. His fingers are long, strong, and show me the same gentle appreciation he does with his words. He'll approach me from behind, reaching under my skirts to play over my bare ass and between my damp, swampy thighs. While his thumb strokes my inner thigh, my clit vibrates and vibrates until I'm shuddering and showering his hand with my wetness. These near-touch orgasms are so intense that until recently I could only daydream about how it might feel for him to touch my pussy directly.

Well, last Saturday, he finally showed me. Roger and I invited some friends over for brunch by the pool. Roger manned the grill while I prepared food in the kitchen. I could feel Steven's intention all morning - stronger than on most mornings, but playful, building anticipation in me for whatever he was going to do. I made sure to wear my hottest bikini and readied myself for the fireworks.

At first, he played subtle. His energy entered me from afar, warming me up and making my pussy swell until I opened like a flower. Then, he started to electrify my entire pelvis. Even my uterus was humming with pleasure as I rode edge after edge after edge. I did my best to compartmentalize the sexual power flowing through me and finish mixing the chicken salad, but I admit I broke down and tried to touch my pussy twice. Foiled by that 'invisible barrier' he had created, I groaned in frustration and got back to mixing chicken and mayo.

When I was good and desperate, he brought me back to the finest, most exquisite edge yet and kept me there, hovering for long minutes, gasping and listening with pricked ears for telltale signs of laughing voices approaching.

My fingers twitched again to rub my clit, but I knew it was useless. Instead, I started to speak under my breath. "Please sir. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease let me cummmmm oh this pussy is yours sir its yours to play with please play with it sir pleasepleaseplease fuuuuuuckkk me and let me kiss your dimples you smirking fuck. My legs spread for you sir. Pleaaaaaaaaase let me come."

I muttered under my breath and squeezed my thighs together, rubbing them in a vain attempt at generating enough friction to throw me over the edge. Sobbing, I pounded my fist on the countertop in frustration. Where was he??

Just as I was ready to abandon hope, I 'felt' him enter the room behind me, and I gasped as fresh waves of power radiated out from him to surround me. Moaning and panting in excitement, I bent over the countertop, parted my legs and locked my knees straight, then pushed my ass back and up, waving it in what I hoped was an enticing gesture. With one hand, I gripped the countertop, while the other peeled the gusset of my bikini bottoms away from my sodden pussy lips. I still hovered on the precipice of orgasm, right where he wanted me. "Please," I whispered again.

My bare pussy lips pulsed against the cool kitchen air. A rivulet of wetness ran out of me and slowly made its way tickling down my thigh. Leaving my bikini bottoms pulled off to the side of my ass, I placed both my palms on the kitchen counter, stood on my tiptoes and angled my pelvis back, pointing my squeezing pussy directly at Steven.

And then he was there, breath hot on my back. His fingers caught the teasing rivulet on my thigh and wiped upward until he stopped just at the entrance to my pussy. I held my breath, waiting. Hoping. Praying.

Slowly, gently, he entered me - two fingers, pushing into me, coated with his powerful electric energy. The voices of our guests faded away as he directed electric charge from the tips of his fingers precisely into the front wall of my pussy, penetrating my clitoral tissue and infusing it with loving warmth.

"Keep quiet, keep breathing, don't move, and come for me" he ordered, and my body locked itself into position as I finally - FINALLY - tipped over the edge and began to climax. As he ordered, I breathed deeply into a climax that built higher and higher until I wanted to scream. My palms trembled on the countertop with the strain of keeping my body supported and still. Up, and up, and up the pleasure spiked...and then he started to move his fingers.

I literally don't have words for what followed. This story is already too much for some of you to believe, I'd wager, and pure divine rapture is just too difficult to translate into our earthly language. All I'll say is this: Every woman should hope to feel what I felt at least once before she dies. And if you are lucky enough to get it, be grateful for every moment that you have it.

I wished he could have played with me for hours, but after a tragically brief fourteen orgasms he had to let me go. With our brunch guests only feet away I ended up furiously wielding our broom closet mop to clean up my mess from the kitchen floor. I giggled like a school girl while I mopped, high as a kite. He watched and smirked, snacking on baby carrots.

Dear reader, I am well and truly done for. That cocky smirk that had once induced eyerolls now makes me gush. I am like jelly when he is close. My clit aches and my pussy squeezes at the mere thought of his nineteen-year-old eyes on me. How surprising that I could be so enraptured by this boy! The only thing holding me back from grabbing and impaling myself on his long, strong fingers again at this very moment is his standing order to wait on his instructions. And wait, I will - wet, aroused, and pulsing - until he decides the time is right.

I barely even speak to Roger anymore, and when I do it is just to keep up appearances. Roger doesn't even seem to notice how I've changed, which relieves me, but also disappoints me. It shows me that perhaps the connection I had taken for granted as the end-all, be-all of love in my life is a little more shallow than I had believed.

It doesn't matter anymore, anyway. My world has changed and there is no going back. When the summer ends and Steven returns to school, I will remain behind, edging and waiting. I will edge, and I will wait, without hope or expectation.

I am Steven's pussy pet, now and forever.