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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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One Hour (FM, bdsm, sexual frustration)
by suthrnlrd@hotmail.com (SuthrnLrd)
---------standard disclaimer----------
This is a work of erotic fiction. If you're too young to legally read
this, or if you think you might be offended if you read it, don't.
This story is copyright 1998 by SuthrnLrd. You can use it any way you
want for your own personal enjoyment, but if you rip off my work and
try to pass it off as your own, or if you archive my work and charge
money to read it, then you suck.
-----end of standard disclaimer------
ONE HOUR
(F/M, light bond, sexual frustration)
by SuthrnLrd
My body shivers with excitement and fear as she blindfolds me.
I test my bonds and find them, as usual, to be perfect. There is no
escape for me. For the next hour I am hers.
When did this become an hour? It seems just a few days ago
that it was twenty minutes. And yet I know it must have been at least
several months since that easy beginning. She is so very thorough.
Nothing is left to chance. She has built me up week by week, adding a
few minutes each week, allowing me to adjust...or at least to have the
illusion that I have adjusted.
Now I can feel her breath, hot on my cock. Each time begins
exactly the same way, with this clear, simple, nonverbal message. I
know exactly what I'm in for. This knowledge doesn't help.
The act of tying me to the bed was enough to make me hard.
But feeling the breath from her lips as she hovers above me, my cock
snaps to attention. Poor dumb desperate thing--it's a Pavlovian
reaction that will cost me dearly. And reward me almost beyond my
ability to bear it.
I can _feel_ her smile. Perhaps after so many weeks of this,
my cock can recognize the pattern of the warm air that comes from her
mouth. And I know what she is thinking. I shudder.
When she first told me what she wanted to do, it was late at
night, and we were holding each other after an evening's lovemaking.
At first, I laughed and heartily agreed, thinking it would just be a
fun turn-on for both of us. But she explained exactly what she wanted
to do, and exactly what the terms were, and it quickly became no
laughing matter. It was a powerful idea, and it frightened me as much
as it aroused me.
We talked about it late into the night, and in the end, before
we fell asleep, we agreed that we would try it. After the first time,
I wanted it again. And again. And although every time I am trapped
inside of it I struggle against it and want so desperately for it to
end, when it finally does end I can only think of the next time.
Has it been five minutes? Yes, I think it has. She is using
her fingers on me, caressing the full length of my shaft. We're still
in the easy part. The first ten minutes or so are a doddle. She
knows it, I know it. So she just plays. And I try to relax.
How long had she thought about this idea before presenting it
to me? For how long had it occupied such a treasured place in her
mind's library of sexual fantasies? Sure, we'd been into roleplaying
and kinky games from the beginning. But this? This was something
different. I think that's why she kept it to herself for so long.
Oh, god. Now it starts in earnest. Everything else has been
a prologue to this. She takes my cock in her mouth and begins to
tease it. Deft little wet traces with her tongue. A gentle sucking
that suddenly stops. Fluttering her lips against the head. God.
It's all downhill from here.
The other reason she probably kept it to herself for so long
is the very reason she's so damnably good at this. She needed to
learn me inside and out. She had to know me and my reactions better
than I know them myself. And she knows. She knows them all. There
is no move I can make, no trick I can try to hurry her. I cannot take
her by surprise. And I cannot force her hand.
It would almost be easier if she simply forbade me to come.
"Don't come, or I'll punish you." At least then I would be able to
harbor the illusion that I have a choice in the matter, even if it
meant being punished if I came without her permission. But I don't
even have that. She doesn't forbid me to come for the same reason
that you don't need to forbid someone from breaking the laws of
physics. It's just not possible.
And so I try. I try so hard. Every time.
And I fail. Every time.
I no longer have any idea how long I've been lying here, being
pushed ever closer to an orgasm that never arrives. It feels like
years. Oh, the things she does to my cock! Loving caresses, gentle
squeezes, treating it as if it were a fragile lollipop rather than a
hungry, desperate piece of flesh. And then, unpredictably, grasping
my cock with her lips and fucking me with her whole mouth, giving me
the most incredible sensations that can be imagined, sucking me as
hard as she can, pulling me and forcing me toward that sweet release
that I just _know_ I will have at last...
And then stopping. Nothing. No sensation. My hips rise off
the bed, beyond conscious control, straining at the empty air. There
is nothing there for me. I cannot help but whimper as I give up the
struggle and collapse back onto the bed, my muscles taut, sweat
beginning to cover me as I am allowed a few moment's respite. And
then I moan as I feel her begin again with her tender--and utterly
frustrating--ministrations.
Oh, if only she would touch me somewhere else! Anywhere on my
body, anything at all, just _some_ other sensation. If she would just
kiss my lips, or brush her fingers against my nipples, or even spank
my inner thighs...anything! How can she so singlemindedly focus all
her attention on my cock? Until it feels as if the rest of my body
becomes less substantial, less real, a figment of my imagination,
while my cock seems to grow proportionately, taking over my mind,
until I feel that that is all I am. One enormous, throbbing cock. No
brain, no heart, no hands...nothing that could identify me as a human
being with a personality. Just this mindless slab of meat that some
cruel trickster god hardwired to be perpetually teetering on the edge
of an explosion that will never come.
Another hour passes, two, three, and I no longer have a
rational mind to tell me that my sense of time is all distorted. I
have entered a state of pure primal energy. I cannot even think the
words, but my body tells me that she is working me vigorously again,
bobbing her mouth up and down on the head of my cock while her hand
masturbates the shaft. I'm barely aware of the fact that my hips
writhe beyond control. I have no idea what sounds are passing through
my lips; if I am saying something that can remotely pass for English
or if I'm merely babbling like an idiot.
Nothing I do can get the slightest reaction from her. I
learned that early. Begging and pleading for release are not
punished. They are simply ignored. She does not say a word to me,
not a single word, during the torment. Nothing to even remotely
indicate that she's aware of my existence as something apart from my
cock. It is the ultimate objectification, and it fills me with equal
parts terror and arousal.
And oh...here it comes...I can feel it now. The hour must
almost be up. It feels like ten or twelve hours, or maybe days. Time
has no meaning anymore. She's working my cock gently but
consistently, the perfect rhythm to push me over the edge into my
much-needed orgasm. I'm moaning at full volume without even being
aware of it, panting and writhing on the sweat-soaked sheets.
The wave is starting to build. It begins at my toes and works
its way up slowly. God, it's going to be big. Oh my god...
Ahh...it's like...it feels like...oh god, it's too big. It's too
much. The wave...it's not a wave, it's a fucking tsunami and it's
going to bury me. I can't handle this. I can't. It's going to rip
me apart. It will destroy me. Doesn't she know this will kill me?
Make it stop makeitstopohgodohgodohgodplease!
Oh.
There.
Now.
I lose it.
Screaming myself hoarse.
My body exploding up through and out of my cock.
The whole universe exploding out of my cock.
Nothing exists but this.
I do not exist.
I am
not
only the
explosion
I...
...there's light...I can see again. I can feel my lover, my
Lady, holding me. Somehow I am no longer bound. I'm shaking, my
mouth nuzzled and whimpering against her hot neck. She talks to me in
soothing tones, just holding me while my universe rebuilds itself.
She knows from past experience that when I have recuperated I will
want to make love to her, to touch every part of her, to satisfy my
own sensual needs by filling myself up with all the explorations of
her that I have craved for the past hour. She knows I will bring her
the same ecstasy she has given me. But she's in no hurry. She's
never in a hurry.
I shudder as I think of that, and think about the next time
she will have me at her mercy.
-----------------
SuthrnLrd
http://members.tripod.com/~SuthrnLrd/
suthrnlrd@hotmail.com