We were going to run out to see the Germany – Brazil game (also: HOLY FUCK). In the driveway, I had one of those “too horny to stand” moments. A sudden surge of need and pleasure that has me struggling not to moan, and so I braced forwards against the car for a moment. “Are you OK?” Bear inquired. I told him I was fine.
Once in the car and on our way to wings and futbol, I told Bear what I had felt. He chuckled, then he told me that he was surprised when I had shared my fantasy about not coming until Thanksgiving, or our next anniversary. His birthday or our anniversary is what I had mentioned, actually, but close enough.
I explained to him that I was curious what long-term denial would feel like. That I was hot and bothered by the thought of coming just through being fucked by him. Not that I know that’s possible, I hastened to add. But I’d love to find out whether it’s possible. As long, you know, as I’m not going to get into trouble if I come by being fucked.
“Oh no,” Bear said. “If you come through nothing but the stimulation I give you, you’re not going to get punished.”
Well, that’s good to know. And, I explained, I know he loves it when I obey, and I want to give him more of that.
So I asked Bear again whether he preferred that I beg him not to make me come on my birthday, or he prefers that I stay silent and let him make the decision.
“How long has it been now?” he asked.
About 6-and-a-half weeks, I said, as if I didn’t know it to the day.
“And how long will it have been on your birthday?” he asked.
About 8-and-a-half weeks-and-a-bit, I said. Almost nine. Failing to pretend I didn’t know it to the day.
Bear thought for a moment. “I think I’d like it if you begged,” he said. “It emphasizes that it’s my decision whether you come.”
He paused. “You’re not going to be upset if I let you come anyway, are you?”
Now it was my turn to reassure him. “No way,” I said. “I love orgasm. I just love obeying you more.”
So, that’s settled. Come my birthday, I get to beg Bear not to make me come, to let me stay horny longer. And, maybe, he’ll indulge me.