P04E12

I timed my own orgasm to coincide with her third. I grunted when I shot my load deep into her. She wailed, her mouth and eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling without seeing anything, her mouth wide open in a silent scream.

As my muscles relaxed, I crashed down on her body. My full weight rested on her torso, no longer diverted to knees and wrists. As we came down together from our high, she lifted up her arms and embraced me, pulling me even closer to her. Her mouth found my ear, and she whispered “Thank you!”

Again there was that pause, as if she contemplated whether it was appropriate or not. Then she added: “...Sir. “

That was all that was said; we just lay there quietly while our breathing returned to normal and the blood withdrew from our genitals.

But Howard had taught me well: don’t let a girl get away from arousal so shortly after orgasm. I needed to re-engage her, to start the bloom of the next cycle, if the rapture I had given her was to translate into submission and compliance.

I wrestled from her embrace. She seemed surprised at first, then it dawned on her when my body shifted down on hers, my lips going down her neck, her breasts, her belly.

When my lips found her clit once more, she muttered: “Jason… please… I can’t…” but it sounded unconvincing and weak. I just ignored it, and my lips and tongue seized control of her once more, licking, sucking, nibbling at her. Her breathing told me that it did spark new arousal, even if there seemed to be a hint of fright in it as well, as if the continuous flood of new sensations was wearing her down. I ignored that as well, and augmented my efforts. When she had an instinctive response, trying to use her hands on my head to lift it away from her agitated clit, I took her wrists in my hands and drew them to her sides, out of reach for resistance, without decreasing my oral efforts in any way. Her sigh sounded hopeless, maybe even ****, but she didn’t attempt to wrestle free, and just submitted to the new wave of sensations I administered to her. She only needed a short while to revert back to the natural response to my enticement. I clearly tasted fresh pussy juice, her moaning restarted, and she raised her pelvis slightly to welcome my lips. Despite the ornery state of her pussy, I just dragged her across her squeamish barriers, pushing her right back into the realm of rehornification.

She took my lead magnificently. Within minutes, she had followed my lead right back to the edge of her next release. Without allowing her hypersensitized clit the time to recover from the first multiple orgasm of her life, it was simply being demanded to push on to new summits. And maybe it was exactly because of this, that it seemed to allow her into a deeper level of submission. Even though it must have been irritating, maybe even painful, she didn’t fight it. She just allowed the new wave of arousal to engulf her, like a **** of nature to which it was pointless to resist. She submerged, simply because I wanted her to, without question, without doubt; and what she found there was desire, where discomfort merged with pleasure, at the hands of the man who ruled about these things now. She started whispering: “Please… allow me… make me cum… I need to… please… do it again… I beg you…” She kept going on like that as I sucked her. It didn’t even feel like she was really addressing me, it was more like a mantra.

When I felt she neared the verge of her next orgasm, I retracted my lips. I just lay there, admiring her throbbing pinkness from mere inches, needy and eager to receive the last push. I waited for a minute until she receded a bit, away from the edge. I enjoyed the slight touch of despair in her panting. Then I dug in again, the squishing sound of my reclaimed prize expanding through the room, where it mixed with her moaning, heightened and augmented once more. But when she was ready again, just the tiniest of pushes away from the plunge into release, I retracted again, watching her simmer in her discontent and frustration. Her begging deepened: “Oh my god… don’t do this… I can’t stand it… please… release me… I’ll do anything, anything… just make me cum… I beg you… finish me off… do it… Please!”

Her pleas felt like music to my ears. Still I didn’t heed her. I repeated the whole process a few more times, then I rolled off her, and lay on my side in the bed, next to her, holding her body with one arm. I watched her closely as her breathing calmed down, still lying on her back, realizing that release simply wouldn’t come again.

When she had recovered a bit, she turned her head and looked me in the eye. “That was so… amazing, Jason! I thought I’d die, but it would have been a **** to cherish!”

“Very good, my love. Did I… Somehow… compensate for yesterday?”

“You did! In every way, a thousand times! I feel exhausted… but in such a happy and warm way! And revitalized, invigorated at the same time! I didn’t even know my body could do that… I’ve only ever had so tiny orgasms… compared to… this!” She suddenly kissed me on the cheek, and added: “You were great! I am so happy that we have finally… done it!”

“Done it? Don’t let Howard hear that, he’s appalled by a euphemism like that.”

“Well… fucked then, I guess…”

“Much better.”

“I want to ask you though… what happened at the end? Why did you pull back from giving me one more?”

“It is something Howard taught me. When you leave a girl alone right after an orgasm, she will discharge the sexual tension in her body, she will just drift off in a low energy state of lazy comfort and satisfaction. But that’s not where I want you to be. I want you to keep up that excitement, to be ready for a next bout of debauchery as soon as you can after the last one. And for that, I must recharge you again. Just to make sure you remain obliging and willing. “

“A next bout of debauchery… I kinda like that phrase,” she said with a naughty flare in her smile, “...but I suppose you’re not going to give me that now, right?”

I shook my head: “No. It is getting late, and Howard will be home soon. “

My arm shifted down along her torso, and reached for her pussy once more. I cupped her labia in a grab, and added: “You remember what you promised, right?”

She quivered, then manned up and shrugged: “Yes, I do. And I will.”

I started kneading her venus mound in the grab of my hand, just very gentle and easy, not like driving her anywhere, just caressing her. She put her hands under her head, in a silent acknowledgement that she wouldn’t interfere with any grab I wanted to have of her, and stretched her body next to me, like a cat who enjoys a stroking hand, in an invitation to expand on that grab. I didn’t though; I just kept up the slight knead of my hand, titillating her without going anywhere near the sweep required to send her off on the road to orgasm again.

Her smile was warm and blissful when she looked me straight in the eye again, and said: “I love you, Jason.”

Then she closed her eyes, and fell asleep, her mound still quivering in my grasp.