Denial, Denial, and More Denial

By this point, I was pretty well sure that I'd fingered Sandra's brain right out. Between the week of denial leading up to the date, and the solid hour that I'd been edging her, even her ability to speak in complete sentences was gone. She was letting out periodic gasps, moans, and squeaks, but none of it sounded much like real words anymore.

"Martin....Please...I can't...I can't....Fuck...I..." She gasped out weakly into my ear.

Her hips started to buck harder. She was getting close again. I already had this entire process down to a science. There would be no way she'd cum without my express effort.

In front of us, the credits started to roll. It was the end of the movie. The perfect moment to let her have her release. Now or never.

Which, of course, is why I pulled my fingers out of her cunny once again at the last second.

"You're cute." I whispered into her arm.

She groaned loudly. Then a second later I felt a stab of pain. She'd hit my arm full ****.

"Dick." She said with a pout. It warmed my heart.

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