Ruined

deft

AVpocalypse Survivor
Joined
Feb 18, 2002
Posts
15,126
Splayed before her, totally at her mercy, I gaze into her haughty eyes. She knows what she's going to do... and, lamentably, so do I... but I want it. I can't help it.

Now, her fingertip, slick with my pre-cum, circles my frenulum, over and over, while her full breasts hang tantalisingly out of reach before me... the mere sight of them swaying and heaving makes me ooze another clear drop out and down my quivering shaft.

Reason has deserted me. Desire wells from deep within me. I'm so fucking close.

With cruel, teasing words, she intensifies the sensations her hands and tongue are giving me... she can instinctively feel the end approaching. Perhaps she sees the tension and anxiety in my balls as they tighten into my body, the spasms so close, my mouth watering...

The first surge catches me by surprise, spurting from my very soul, but somehow she knows, and as the hot sticky mess spurts from my engorged cock, she stops, her beautiful eyes laughing at me, releasing me from her grasp. The first spurt jets strong and high, and then the rest pulses lazily and sheepishly from my twitching cock, drizzling down the shaft to puddle shamefully at the base, eliciting deep wails of disappointment from me.

Her selfish laugh inflames me, even as she watches my torture.

And I know I can't wait until the next time.
 
Even as my aching balls weakly empty, she starts to tickle, her nails grazing my sensitive flesh. Despite the theft of my satisfaction, my limpening cock refuses to soften, the torment of her cruelty still inflaming me.

She crafts a full erection from me using her slender fingers, and the promise of completion.

Do I believe her?
 
I feel your pain, but it’s out of your hands. You said so yourself.

It turns me on so fucking much. My orgasm is entirely in her gift. That she chooses to deny it only increases my passion for her.
 
I’m similarly offered, exposed, humiliated, consumed; longing for endings and beginnings that likely will never come; and equally unable to stop hoping, look away, walk away, or behave in any relational way to protect myself.
 
I’m similarly offered, exposed, humiliated, consumed; longing for endings and beginnings that likely will never come; and equally unable to stop hoping, look away, walk away, or behave in any relational way to protect myself.

Oh, my goodness... you’re unfulfilled?
 
More like ruined.

What do you think she’ll do next?

With honeyed eyes, she'll start to stroke me again... nibbling my earlobe, whispering how hard she's going to make me come... shimmying her shoulders so that her full breasts drag her stiffened nipples against my goosebumped chest. Her soft fingers are curled around my resurrected cock, and every stroke is making me pound harder. I try to fuck her grasp, but she instructs me to relax and let her do all the work.
 
Oh, I hope so.

I think if your cruel minx asked me to relax and let her do the work, I’d probably listen.
 
Oh, I hope so.

I think if your cruel minx asked me to relax and let her do the work, I’d probably listen.

But she'll ruin me again, surely... even as she slides her talented hand along the shivering length of my cock, she has plans in mind to embarrass me further... to steal my orgasm once more... her free hand cupping my balls, the promise of release implicit in her actions... but, yet... I know.
 
Maybe she loves you.

Orgasm and release get dressed and leave after.

Pain and longing move in and stay forever. Like love.
 
Maybe she loves you.

Orgasm and release get dressed and leave after.

Pain and longing move in and stay forever. Like love.

If she denies me completely, am I hers? Forever longing for release? Forever enslaved to her desires?
 
Maybe you are hers, but she is not yours.

On the plus side at least she spends all night and day dreaming up ways to attract you and prolong your misery.
 
Maybe you are hers, but she is not yours.

On the plus side at least she spends all night and day dreaming up ways to attract you and prolong your misery.

My swollen cock desires her, even if her only need is to see my spunk drizzle from my tortured balls.
 
Sleepily raising my head to see where she's gone, I can feel the spunk still drying on my cock. The dampness, cooling in the air, must have stirred me from my fitful slumber. There's still a dull ache in my balls, after last night's feeble surges that drained me completely dry.

She comes back in the room, dressed for work, and regards my messy, flaccid cock.

Time for more.
 
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