This pussy gets so wet so easily, baby. God, I just can’t imagine how you can even focus on anything else anymore. Look at this. Just fucking look at it. I’m barely even rubbing my thumb here and you’re leaking out here like a faucet.
That’s enough for today I think. Maybe just one more minute. But honestly, anything beyond that is going to be too much for you to take. I wouldn’t want to push you over the edge. I know you’d feel so terrible orgasming without permission. That’s why I’m going to stop. Because I don’t want to get you too overwhelmed. Get your senses so heightened that you can’t even move without feeling the ache between your thighs. That wouldn’t be good. So I’m going to stop now. Well, not now. But soon. I think.
… I can’t wait … But I will because I must, right?
Fuck! 😖
STOP! NOT YET!
Those words, those infuriating words.
Just as I am about to be overwhelmed by a powerful orgasm those words stop me in my tracks. I curse, I moan and protest but the urge to obey, to please him, is stronger than my need to orgasm.
My frustration and desperation are my gifts to him, to please him, to submit to his will. My orgasms his to give or deny, my pleasure his to fulfill or frustrate.
Tilly Bloom 