Romans & histoires Orgasm Denial Erotica

I could already feel the rumblings of a deep raunchy orgasm from the wells of my cunt. Bethany’s hands however were determined to not make things so easy for me. When she would sense I was getting ready to succumb to an orgasm her fingers would freeze inside my pussy; and she would wait until she was satisfied that the impulse to come had been delayed. Again and again she did this, delaying gratification and exacerbating my anticipation. I was not sure if I wanted to kiss her or choke her. Every time she would stop her hands she would kiss me softly, maybe as a silent plea to be patient or just as a consolation prize.

“Clenching. Involuntary rhythmic contractions beginning.” “Clitoral response.” “Engorged. Hypersensitive.” He angles upward and the next thrust drags directly across the spot that makes my vision blur. My hands fist in the leather. I am so close I can taste it, but he reads my body too well. Every time the orgasm starts to crest he slows, almost withdrawing, until the urgency eases—then drives back in deep and starts the climb again. The denial is its own form of torture. Sweat gathers between my breasts. My voice grows shakier with every required description.

Without containing myself, I moan wildly when I feel his tongue sucking my right breast hard, while he massages the left one with his hand. Deniel spends a long time giving attention to them (which are already sensitive), until I decided to pay attention to the most needy part of my body. I feel his hand opening my legs well, and then feel him descending his body until his mouth was face to face with my intimate part, it was so wet that it was very easy for him to make me have an orgasm. It was so exciting to see your head between my legs, seeing your bright red eyes, your labored breathing, your sweet and at the same time dirty words

The orgasm denial began right then. He stripped her slowly, deliberately, ignoring her weak attempts to push him away. His mouth and hands became instruments of exquisite torture, tongue tracing slow circles around her clit, thick fingers curling deep inside her with practiced precision, building her higher and higher until her thighs trembled and desperate whimpers escaped her throat. Then he would pull back completely, leaving her aching and empty, kissing her inner thighs while she begged. “Not yet,” he murmured each time, voice rough with his own restrained need. “You come when you stop trying to disappear on me. When you remember who you belong to.”

“Sensory play, blindfolds, earmuffs, temperature play like ice or warm materials. It heightens other senses. We use it to shift power by taking away information so that you can focus on touch.” “Orgasm control/edging,” he said next. “We will define whether you can orgasm, when, and how often. You can opt for enforced denial or for limits that stop short of full denial.” “Oral,” he said plainly. “Explicit consent is needed for either direction. Hygiene standards apply very much, STI status, and safekeeping of any media or photos that we might indulge in.” “Media?” “Sometimes, I like to see my sub on my screen while I’m at work. Keeps me… entertained.”

It feels like an endless cycle of denial, him teasing my clit, tugging the toy in my ass, then stopping to spank me when I inevitably fail to hold still. Until finally, he lets me come. “Give it to me! Now, little wolf!” He presses the vibrator hard against my sensitive nub and I fly! “Rhett!” I scream for him as cum squirts from my pussy and drips down his chest. “Rhett, please!” I beg, pulling against my restraints as he refuses to stop, tormenting my clit with the vibrator. I continue to beg incoherently as my orgasm goes on and on. “Do you need to stop, love? You know what to say if you really want me to stop.” He taunts.

I nod, I can do orgasm denial, I watch as he puts the blindfold over my eyes, that is cheating, I now have no idea when he is about to put the toy back on me. I jump feeling the vibrations, feeling ready to orgasm, the toy being moved away, counting to five it is pushed against my clit again, every time I get close he removes it. I don't need to say yellow; he knows somehow, he knows. I feel the sweat dripping down, I can hear their whispers, if they think I am giving in I won't. No doubt that is what they are whispering. He keeps going, my screams getting louder as tears fill my eyes, all I want is one orgasm just one. The wand moves and stops, my arms and legs becoming free, the blindfold

“My cunt is yours, Game Master! Please!” “Please what?” “Please use me! Please… please let me come!” He drove into her, a series of short, brutal pistons. “Come.” It was the permission she’d been starved for. Her orgasm detonated, a cataclysm that ripped through the denial and the overstimulation and the sheer, brutal force of his fucking. It was less a wave of pleasure and more a systemic collapse, a white-out of sensation that left her blind and deaf to everything but the pulsing of her own body around his invading cock. She convulsed, her cries raw and feral.

He slapped her ass hard, and she gasped. “Ohhh fuck yes!” she moaned, riding him faster now, her wetness dripping down his thick shaft. “Tyler, do you see this? You hear this?” She grabbed her bouncing tits, squeezing them together, mocking him with every word. “This is what a real orgasm sounds like. Not those fake moans I gave you while praying it would be over.” Tyler sobbed, thrashing weakly against the ropes. “Please stop. Just let me go!”

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been touched down there. Desmond wouldn’t even let me masturbate because it was a sin to him. His tongue moved on my clit again, slower this time and my body shook with need. In fact, I didn’t even want him to tease me any further considering Desmond could come home anytime soon. I clamped my thighs shut around his head and pressed him against my core. He chuckled and the vibration hit my pussy, making my toes curl. “You’re so needy, Vera,” he said. Before I could respond, I felt his lips close around my clit and suck.