I was stroking Bear, pressing myself against him, and when I had him nice and hard, he said “Now that you have me all bothered, you should kneel and suck me off.”
Yes. Yes I should. And so I did, kneeling at the foot of the bed, with my swollen balls pressing into the carpet and my cock straining and then flagging a bit and straining again as I sucked Bear.
After he came, he thanked me, then asked “Did you drip on the carpet?”
I hadn’t. He didn’t tease me or touch me, and in that moment, that was great. I felt very submissive, and very much like I was just there for his pleasure. In the shower, I suggested that he could have said “Good boy” instead of “Thank you”.
“I thought about it,” Bear said. “I didn’t want to lead you on.”
Lead me on?
“I didn’t want you to think you’d be my pet again,” he said. “Not yet.”
I grinned. And Bear said “I saw the twinkle in your eye when I said ‘not yet’.”
Yes, he did see that.
Two weeks ago, we were in bed and Bear said “if you can get me hard, you may suck me.” It had been three weeks since I had last come, and I did not waste any time. I humped his leg and stroked his dick, all a bit over-eager to be sure.
“You seem a bit frantic,” Bear observed.
“Eager,” I replied.
“Well, slow down,” Bear said, and I tried to.
I did slow down some, and I got him hard, and I was allowed to suck him. And while I was doing that, he was masturbating me. Which was intensely pleasurable and sent waves of gratitude through me. I was playing a little game in my head – do I want to come? Do I not want to come? Does he want me to come?
I wasn’t as focused as I should have been, and Bear had to tell me “watch the teeth” and then to “slow down.”
And I did, and as I got him close, I let go of trying to guess what Bear had in mind, and just enjoyed the moment and decided that whatever he wanted, I’d be grateful for it.
I didn’t come, because Bear had experimented with grip and used a way to stroke me that is not likely to get me off. While I know I’d have been grateful for coming, I was glad I didn’t. I do want to know what it is like to go longer than three weeks.
In the shower, while I was scrubbing him, Bear took me to task. “You need to learn to not let your eagerness get in the way of focusing on my pleasure,” he said. And he was right. I am glad he felt comfortable correcting me, and I took the lesson to heart.
It turns out that while the first two, and to an extent the third, week of denial can be tumultuous for me, coastal waters with waves of feeling extremely horny and short periods of calm, there are calmer waters waiting. The fourth week, I felt horny and eager to please Bear, to be sure, but not frantic or desperate. I’d come when he wanted me to, and whether that was now or weeks in the future was both equally good by me.
On the weekend of the fourth week, I remarked to Bear that we were close to a month – and that his birthday wasn’t so far off, either. He liked that idea and started singing “happy birthday to me” to himself.
A day later, he told me he had second thoughts. “I’ll come when you want me to,” I said. “Why is it you’re thinking of letting me come now?”
Because while he liked the idea of having me wait until his birthday, it had never been this long for me, he explained. He was worried he was pushing me too far.
I reassured him he wasn’t. That I enjoyed this very much, and felt immensely grateful for getting the chance to experience what denial past the initial tumult of needing to come right fucking now dammit feels like.
And so we continued with denial. I am starting to see how people can go months without orgasm, or even a year and longer. It’s a view hazy with distance, to be sure, but I can grok what someone might get out of such play, and how it can become entirely acceptable to say “I’ll come next when you want me to, even if that means never.”
Not that I’m anywhere close to that. A few weeks does not a year make.
Good boy, again
One night the following week, Bear said to me “Good boy,” out of the blue. Hmm?, I inquired. “You’re doing such a good job being obedient,” he said. I felt happy, and submissive, and very, very excited. I couldn’t get to sleep for a half hour because I was so hard it distracted me.
This weekend, looking forward to an orgasm that I will likely be given in less than a week, I told Bear that if he wanted to really treat me, he could, where he usually has me come the first time I am close, back me off instead, get me close repeatedly, and then let me come.
“Why is that?” he asked.
I explained that I really enjoyed being denied. That I liked the physical sensation of being denied, and that I kinked pretty hard on being close and then not coming.
I think Bear’s considering the idea. I’ll see. It’s been five weeks, and in a little bit, unless he changes his mind, I’ll come. I’m looking forward to it, at the same time that there’s a part of me that says “you could just keep going to Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s, you know.”