The Denial of Lula [M] [F] [Mdom] [orgasm denial]

I forgot to put the food out before I went to bed, I thought through thick sleep. The cats were hungry and seemed anxious for me to correct the oversight. One was nuzzling around my neck and ear. The second was licking my leg, frantically trying to rouse me. It was working. The neck-muzzler started mewing and whimpering. My half-asleep brain began to assemble these sounds into what sounded like words.

Oh my god. Oh, fuck.

I opened my eyes and saw Lula, her dark hair obscuring her face, her breasts rising and falling. My left thigh was wedged tightly between her legs, and she was humping like I was her pillow. She used slow, fluid movements that left my leg wet and warm. She was trying unsuccessfully to contain her moans. We had an agreement, and this little sneak was not living up to her end.

+++

I have a high sex drive, but Lula is an undiagnosed sex addict. At first, it was a huge turn-on that she craved my cock all the time. Before dinner and after dinner. In the parking lot of the home goods store. On the subway if we had a car to ourselves. I once found her in our bed, face down, working the first 10 inches of a foot-long dildo into herself. Oh fuck that’s deep, that’s so deep, all the way back, deep, yes, god it’s so thick. I watched her ass rise and fall on the rubber dick, coating it with her thick, clear cum. She was working quickly. Her ass cheeks parted each time the reached the top of her stroke, her pink asshole staring back at me. She went quiet and then her breathing quickened. She sat upright and pushed the last two inches of rubber cock inside. I watched as she contracted around the dildo, and she made a low moan, a sound I had come to know well. She collapsed onto the bed and faced me.

“How long have you been standing there?”
In response, I pointed to a small dark spot on my jeans where drop after drop of precum had soaked through my underwear and the thick denim of my jeans.
“Come here,” she said, “And get it inside of me.”

After a while, though, her sex addiction became more and more problematic. And it wasn’t just the times she hiked up her dress to masturbate distractedly in the car while we ran errands. Or the times she would press herself against the smooth corners of desks and chairs in public places. Hotel lobbies, waiting rooms and furniture stores were all minefields of temptation for her. Once, I took her with me to the optometrist. Even though she doesn’t need glasses, she made a point to try on frames, leaning sharply into the edge of a display table of just-right height, to catch her reflection in a mirror. I watched her ass, outfitted in a tight cotton skirt, moving almost imperceptibly as she pushed herself, over and over, into the table. She looked at me in the mirror, challenging me to say something. She reached down and, feigning the need to adjust her belt, pulled up slightly on her abdomen, a technique that made her clit stand at attention. She leaned forward, her mouth parted, and her eyes closed slowly underneath the bold frames.

I realized that she was not craving my cock, but any cock, and I knew my options were to tolerate her behavior or walk away. I began bracing myself for the inevitable. It came quickly.

We were out with a group of friends having after-dinner drinks. Alyssa was a thick ginger with a double portion of thighs. She was alone dateless this evening. Lula asked her what had happened to Devon. The question made her uncomfortable. Alyssa squirmed in her seat slightly. “We’re, ah, I’m not really seeing him anymore,” Alyssa said. Her face flushed and she dropped her eyes. Maura, who had thick, heavy curves that somehow seemed to float weightlessly around her, pounced. “Devon was great, what happened?”

“He was more than I could take,” Alyssa said. There was silence at the table. In order to convey that she was not referring to any flaw of his personality, Alyssa held her forefingers in front of her about ten inches apart. “And thick,” she added. The table erupted in laughter. “I’d love to have that kind of problem,” Maura laughed. Lula, however, became very quiet and crossed her legs.

The next day, I found myself walking down the block on which Devon lived and thinking about the conversation at the table the night before. As I approached his apartment, I was not surprised to see Lula’s car parked in front. I opened the door without knocking – she had left it open behind her. I followed the moans to the bedroom. She was on all fours on the bed, her breasts swinging under her with each thrust. She was grunting and vocalizing. Deep, she was saying. It’s so fucking deep. You’re so big. You fill me all the way up. Fuck your big dick all the way into me. Your stretching so good. Oh no, I don’t want to cum yet, but you’re so huge and good.

Lula saw me from the corner of her eye and gasped, her body clenching, seizing all of Devon’s inches. A huge orgasm gripped her. Devon shuddered and withdrew his cock just as began launching several thick jets of cum across the curves of her back and ass. I turned and left.

I knew that she was not long-term relationship material, but I was not ready to leave her. Yet. Lula’s body was incredible. Her breasts were full and plump, and the way they rippled when I thrust my cock into her mesmerized me. Her hips were round and her thighs thick, and looked amazing in stockings. Her ass was perfect, the backside of a volleyball player who had taken a season off to indulge her love of chocolate cake. Her pussy was constantly wet and it milked my cock hungrily when we fucked. She needed more than any one man could give her, but I would enjoy her assets while I allowed myself to emotionally decouple from her while still enjoying her body.

The night, she felt apologetic, and cried to me that she could not help herself. She told me that she needed four to five orgasms, or “cums” as she called them, every day. She told me it had always been difficult for her because she could never go more than a few hours without masturbating to climax. The longest intervals she went without masturbating every day was the time she slept. Often she would be woken up by a need to cum just like other people wake up and need a glass of water. I asked her what the longest she had gone without masturbating while awake. “Five hours,” she said. “Every day since I was 22, so eight years I guess, but it’s getting worse.”

She loved me, she said, and she wanted to reform. “I assume that there have been other Devons in your life?”
Lula didn’t respond but her eyes began to well up. She was beautiful, and had a charming and playful personality that many men found irresistible. I was positive that she had had dozens of affairs, if not hundreds. I began to replay the many awkward encounters she had with men on the street, men who smiled at her with familiarity and looked confused when she quickly turned away.

I told her that I thought two months without an orgasm would be the appropriate punishment. Lula broke down and wept inconsolably, shaking with sobs that made her firm flesh tremble. “But I can’t help it,” she said with a pleading, wavering voice. “I just always need to cum, it feels so good.”

I told her that if she reached her goal, I would agree to let her see Devon regularly without objection. I knew she had no chance of making it two months. But I didn’t think she’d crack so soon. Three weeks in, not even a third of the way through her denial and was breaking down, weak, a slave to her needs.

I could tell by the amount of wetness pouring from her, along with her deep moaning and aggressive grinding on my leg, that she was close to an orgasm. I grabbed her by her hips to pull her off of me, to pull that hungry pussy and aching clit away from their goal. But she locked her legs around mine and grasped my thigh tightly with hers.

“No, please” she begged. “I need a cum so bad.”

“That’s the point,” I told her. I managed to pull away. She whined. Her hips bucked and humped in the air above our bed, searching desperately for something firm for her to press herself against.

“I tried so hard but I can’t do it any more. Please. Please, I need to get it out, I have to cum,” she said through tears. I stopped and looked at her for a moment. A ribbon of wetness connected us, arcing from her pussy to my leg. Her hips twitched spasmodically, and the ribbon thrummed like a guitar string. I could tell that she was on the edge of a orgasm that would break our bed, and I imagined she would do anything for satisfaction. In that moment, I watched both of her hands flash toward her pussy and she began masturbating furiously. Her left hand pulled up on her hood, making her clit stick out shiny and angry, more swollen than I’d ever seen it. Her moan was a roar. “Oh yes, get out of me,” she chanted. “Get out.”

I closed my fingers around her wrists and gently pulled them away from the area where she was working.

“No” she yelled, “Let me get off. I can’t take it. I’m so wet. I can’t think. I can’t do this. I’m pouring. I’m always fucking pouring.” She emphasized this last sentence by bucking her hips aggressively, flinging her thick, warm wetness across my stomach. My cock was harder than it had ever been.

“OK,” I said. “I’ll make you cum.”

She let out a moan of gratitude that came from deep in her belly. She began planting kisses across my chest and down my stomach, lapping at the the little pools of grool that she made. She found the head of my cock and began sucking me off in the way she knew I loved, her tongue doing a slow hula on the underside of the head.

“I can feel you throbbing,” she said. “We’re a good match.” She moved to position herself so that she could ride me. I knew that if I got inside of her, I wouldn’t have the willpower to stop. I knew her pussy would easily coax a thick load from me, and she would fuck and grind her way to the orgasm she required.

“I will make you cum on my terms,” I told her as her lips grazed the head of my cock. It felt like honey and silk and sunlight. I pulled away and walked to the nightstand where we kept our toys, selecting the cuffs we use for motion restraint, and set these on the pillow.

“Ass up,” I told her, and she presented her full behind, flattening her breasts against the mattress. Her vulva was shiny, and a little stream trickled out of her, gently pushed along by her deep, needy contractions. “Good girl,” I said, giving her bottom a firm pat. She wriggled. From behind,I touched her inner thigh just above her knee. She spread her legs wide. “Please,” she said. Her breathing was ragged. I slid my hand up the inside of her thigh, and her breathing became almost frantic. I teased the tip of my thumb along her labia. This caused her to brighten. She made a series of high whimpering sounds. She pushed her pussy down and slid herself along the back of my hand. The contact made her shudder. “It feels so good to rub,” she said in a low voice. “I’m close, oh I tried to be good but I need to cum.”

I pulled my hand away. She sobbed. “You’re a fucking asshole,” she told me through tears. I slapped her ass hard, and she grunted through her teeth, half from pain and half from sexual frustration.

“I need relief,” she said quietly. “I need to be filled all the way up. I need relief so bad.”

I used the restraints to tie her arms and legs each to their corresponding bedpost, immobilizing her and negating her control of her orgasm. I leaned down and gently kissed her labia, moving up slowly to fill her full of false hope.

“My clit, please,” she said. “I need relief.”

To be continued.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ds57fu/the_denial_of_lula_m_f_mdom_orgasm_denial