Fictional Frictional Bliss

From the mind of poetrician

she stroked his cock and said

"well you do have to go to work."

he strained at his bonds which had held him all night, as a new degree of helplessness reached out for him and grabbed his balls.

"ah there you are" "right there" "hmmmm that is the right spot isn't it?"

and as she continues to stroke him, slowly, so he doesn't cum, she reminds him that if he does cum, he will lose play privileges for quite some time.

gutter rolls wrestle in his esophagus. moans drip through the cracks of his ball gag.

"now I want you to slow your breathing down for me"

"that's it, when I go up, you breath in, when I go down... that's it. now concentrate on my hand on your cock" "how nice and slowly it moves" "keeping you right there" "oh so ever so right there" "breath in, breath out"

"that feels so good doesn't it?" "you want it to go on forever..."

"ooooo, but when you feel a hard pump of your cock like this..."

"and it is only one hard pump"

"you're wondering where is the next one? the one to follow it up? the one that satisfies the need its predecessor left behind...

"where is it?"

frustration ripples through his muscles.

"it doesn't come. awwww poor baby, so close yet so far"

"you can't even see out of the deep well of your frustration can you? hello in there?' she mocks.

"you don't know when I will let you cum do you? ..."

"you may not see the other side of an orgasm for a week. so get used to this feeling you are having right now. it may stay for awhile."

and she lays an ice pack upon his hardened, dripping, stick.