What happens at the end of the hour?

A fitting climax

For the Dress Facilitator, it was only an hour of watching me goon myself silly there on the floor. The crowd around us was either watching in amusement, or masturbating themselves on some odd form of erotic solidarity.

For me, however, it lasted far longer than an hour. If I had to make a guess, I'd say that a total of at least five hours went by for me in that state, unable to think about anything other that edging and worshipping her breasts like that.

All things must come to an end though, and as the end of that hour approached, I could sense the world around me speeding up again. "Welcome back to normal speed, titslave," the Dress Facilitator teased. "Are you ready to cum your brains out for my tits?" To which I responded with frantic, **** nodding - afraid that anything else would push me over the edge early.

"Alright. Cum on my signal, titslave," the Dress Facilitator says, taking a step closer towards me, dangling her perfect breasts in front of my face! "Three... two.... one........"

"Zero...!"

And with that, she tanks the front of her dress down to fully expose her massive mammaries to me, her bare breasts now on full display right in front of my face! That was more than enough to push me over the edge, my hips surging upwards as my load exploded out of my cock, splashing directly onto the underside of her boobs - rope after rope after rope of semen went flying up out of my penis - by my estimation, it was enough to fill two whole milk jugs worth... which was quite the fitting metaphor, all things considered! Having been edged and thoroughly prepared for so long, this orgasm was one of the longest yet, lasting for fifteen whole minutes before finally petering out.