Gary, an unhappy husband with an orgasm control fetish

As I sat down in the coffee shop, I was a bit depressed. The sexual component of my marriage had become a miserable failure. Even though she loved me very much, Helen had become more and more conservative, and specifically, she didn't enjoy sex at all anymore. In the first years we had had occasional sex, once a week and with the lights out, but even this limited activity had dwindled after having our two kids. She now steadily rejected any sexual advances I made in the marital bed, saying stuff like "Surely we're past that now". This particular morning, I couldn't even remember the last time we had sex. I was a normal guy with a normal libido, but the only sexual activity I had these days was secretly masturbating to internet porn.

When I found the notebook, I realized its potential immediately. I just needed a minute to formulate the first rule, then wrote it down:

"Old rule: all women have a dramatically increased libido, making them feel horny for most of the day."

I closed the book, and got ready to get up and go home to check out the result on my wife, not really believing this weird book would have any effect at all. But something was happening behind the counter that made me hesitate, and I remained seated. As I watched her, the waitress brought her hand down, along her stomach, and shoved it into the pair of jeans she was wearing. There was clearly some kind of movement starting, though it was unclear what exactly happened underneath it. Her neck bent backwards, her eyes got misty and half-closed, and her lips parted slightly to allow a heavy breathing to start. As I watched in amazement, the breathing further intensified and her eyes closed completely as the movement underneath her pants got wilder. In one straight rush, lasting less than a minute, she rubbed herself to an unmistakable orgasm, moaning loudly as it flowed through her. Then she pulled her hand from her pants to complete a customer's order.

No one else in the coffee shop had paid any special attention to her. I realized I had created an "old rule", and that people were perfectly accustomed to girls just masturbating in public to satisfy the heat in their crotch. In fact, a few tables away from me, two women were having a donut, and having a lively conversation. There were bags with famous fashion brands on them by their feet; apparently this was just a break in a shopping spree. Suddenly they interrupted their conversation, raised the skirts they were wearing, and masturbated just as the waitress had done. It lasted equally short; within a few minutes both of them were able to resume their conversation about nail polish as if nothing had happened.

My rule didn't completely work out as I had intended it. I pondered the problem for a few minutes as I sipped on my coffee. The girl behind the counter seemed to have recovered from her previous orgasm already, and she slid her hand into her pants again. This wasn't going well at all; even though watching masturbating girls might be a nice pastime, it wouldn't solve my marital problem. So I opened the book again, and wrote:

"New rule: masturbation is socially unacceptable. No one is allowed to touch their own genitals. Sexual stimulation and gratification can only be performed by others."

As soon as I finished the sentence, the cheeks of the girl behind the counter blushed deeply red, and she pulled her hand from her pants abruptly. She looked around abashed, as if to see if anyone had seen what she had just done. Our eyes met, and she lowered her eyes; but I beckoned her anyway for an order. When she came to the table, I said: "Quite hard, eh, these new rules?"

She blushed again and said: "Actually, yes. My last orgasm was almost ten minutes ago, and I really want another one..."

"Well, I think I can accommodate you. Why don't you bring me another coffee on the house, and I'll see what I can do?"

Without another word, she returned to the counter to make another coffee; as she was doing so, I called out: "In fact, I'd also like to have a slice of that chocolate cake!"

When she returned with the cake and coffee, I didn't allow her to put it down on the table; instead, I reached for the belt in her jeans, unbuckled it and pulled down the zipper. This allowed me to shove down her pants, making sure my thumb bent around her panties so they came along as well. As she was standing with the coffee and cake in two hands, and me sitting at the table, her naked pussy was inches away from my face now. It glistened of moisture, in a clear sign of her aroused state. I raised my hand and stroked along the length of it with a fingertip. I was rewarded with an encouraging moan. I expanded my activities, adding more fingers to rub her clit. An enterprising finger searched and found her slit entrance, and entered it for an inch or two. She clearly enjoyed my attention; her breathing was getting heavier and she had obvious trouble keeping the coffee and cake straight in her hands. The coffee spoon clearly rattled against the cup as she couldn't control her trembling to the joy of my touch. My finger probed deeper inside her, and she was approaching another climax. But before she got there, I said: "Hold on for a minute", took the rulebook, and wrote:

"New rule: Women must have permission from a man before having an orgasm."

Her eyes dilated in horror as I finished the sentence and raised my hand again to resume my handwork on her pussy. She stammered: "Please... Sir... can I have an orgasm?"

I continued my rubbing for a dozen of seconds before replying. She was in full heat now, and the coffee cup was in serious danger of falling off the saucer. Then I said: "Actually, no, you can't. I'm rather enjoying this, and I don't want to stop it just because you would like to have one of your petty orgasms, see?"

"But, please! I really can't take this any longer... I beg of you, can I cum please? "

Without diminishing my play of her pussy in any way, I said to her: "Cannot take this? What kind of girl are you, don't you have any self-restraint? You know full well that you need permission from now on, so you'd better train to control yourself when you don't have it... so I say, let your training start right here!"

"No, please! I really need to..." She couldn't finish her sentence. With a loud clank, the coffee cup fell to the floor and the cake came right after it. I released her pussy and looked her in the eye.

"Well, I think you are the waitress? You better clean that up... but first, bring me replacements for those!"

She lowered her eyes again, pulled up and buckled her pants, then rushed back to the counter to get the replacement order and cleaning utensils. After she returned, I enjoyed watching her kneel on the floor to clean up while sipping my coffee. As she turned away from me on all fours on the floor, I noticed she had a really nice and firm ass. I really enjoyed watching asses... I started to contemplate what rule to write about them, my first thought being "women should turn around and bend over when being addressed by a man", but I couldn't complete my train of thought. One of the women with the shopping bags had risen and come to my table. She bowed slightly to me, and there was a spark of submission in her voice as she said:

"Please... Sir... I wonder... if you have the time... and energy... would you be so kind... please..."

This was really good! I made no effort to help her finish the sentence, but just said: "Yes, ma'am? How can I help you? "

She smiled awkwardly, and her stammering became even worse: "Well... we saw you... working... the waitress just now, and I was wondering... would you mind... if you could..."

She paused, hoping for me to take it from there; but I just looked her in the eye and said: "...yes...?"

"Well, if you could play with us, just like you just did with her? " On the 'us', she pointed to the table where her less courageous friend was following our conversation intently.

I leaned back and sipped my coffee again, feeling relaxed and satisfied. My new rules were working out better and better! Instead of having to fight for female attention and hoping for permission in a complex social minefield, the girls were now coming to the men with a request for sex! I was looking forward to going home and seeing what the effect of these rules were on Helen, but there was no particular hurry; so I said to her:

"Well, I don't really feel like any more handwork right now. But I must admit that my cock has raised an interest in current events. Would you like to be penetrated by it? "

Her eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically, so I stood up and continued: "Very well. Raise your skirt then, bend over the table, and lay your torso across the top."

She complied without hesitation, and a few seconds later there was an inviting ass looking up to me as I stood behind her. I stepped forward, reached down with my hand to find yet another dripping pussy entry, and guided my cock into it. Even as I slid down for the first full thrust, I beckoned to her friend and said: "You. Come here, and take the same position right next to her. "

Even though she was slightly more reserved, there wasn't much delay on her end either, and the second ass was spread right next to the first before I had the chance to give it three full, long thrusts. When I slipped out of the first pussy and took a full step to the left, my cock was dangling over the second one; I stuck myself in there now and delivered three thrusts to it as well, before switching back to the first one. They welcomed my efforts, and their moans mingled into a full stereo sound as I continued switching between the pussies, not delivering more than those three long thrusts on either side each time. I looked up somewhere halfway and my eyes caught the waitress behind the counter; her face showed a strange mix of jealousy and arousal.

Having enjoyed nothing but the favor of my own right hand recently, it didn't take me very long to shoot my load, even with the little interruptions associated with the transfer between the pussies. Both the women had only received half a quick fuck, so it wasn't nearly enough to get them to cumming even in their horny state. The disappointment, frustration, and unsatisfied lust in their eyes was clear when I told them to get up and return to their own table; but I just grinned at their sulking and ignored them from there. I finished my coffee, and got up to go home; it was time to see the impact of all the new rules on Helen.