[FM] I had to hold in my orgasm because otherwise I was going to squirt on his face.

It was a simple proposition. I come over, strip naked, and sit on his face—no questions asked.

Just a few months before, it would have horrified me to be so direct. Lately though, I’d been getting more courageous about my sexuality, basking in the realization that I could have my way with most men. The latest subject was my friend David, whom I’d met a few semesters ago in an econ class. He was funny, cute, and a bit on the short side. I’d always thought he was full of himself, but despite my reservations I was attracted to him. He had asked me out a few times before and I’d always had too much pride to say yes. One afternoon I was texting him, providing comfort after a breakup, and the conversation got heated. I don’t know why, but I made the ask and he said yes. I guess I was in a dominant mood.

Pretty soon I was at his place. It was a warm fall night and we were drinking red wine in comfy clothes. David sat next to me, pretending to watch me browse through streaming services and glancing at me not-so-subtly. Let’s watch that one, he said, pointing at the screen. It was V for Vendetta. Sure, why not? I started the movie and leaned over, resting my head on his shoulder. Soon we were kissing and running our hands over each other. I felt coiled inside like a spring. Was I really about to do this? I told him to keep watching the movie; he’d never seen it before. We lay down and I shifted positions so he could see over my head. I breathed deeply. We both knew exactly why I was here, but the mood was still heavy with our inhibitions.

As we made out, I ran my hands over the shaved sides of his haircut and his surprisingly muscular back. David looked scrawny and I had always fancied I could throw him around. Probably not, I had to admit. He clearly wasn’t paying attention to the movie; his hands were working their way over me in a desperate fashion. I wondered if he knew I wasn’t wearing anything under my pajamas. This is a good part, I protested. The 1812 overture had started playing. He mumbled something and covered my neck in wet kisses.

I clung to my faux display of pride, even as the tension in my core was melting into pleasure and dripping out between my legs. If you pay attention to the movie, I told him, I’ll take off my shorts. He stopped immediately, and I kept my word. I felt the wetness clinging to my shorts as I pulled them down. Shifting on top of him, brought my knees forward, placing the weight of my sex on his crotch. I could feel him through his jeans as I stretched, yawning theatrically and savoring the pressure of his expanding crotch on mine. I felt exposed, his bulge spreading me apart like a wedge.

With effort, I lifted myself off him and crawled forward slowly. My pussy was hurting for stimulation and I could feel the friction of it brushing against his shirt. I hesitated. Was I really going to do this? He was lying there pleased with himself, arms behind his head. When I reached his stupid grin, I touched my slit to his jaw—paused for a moment—and slid forward, enveloping his lips in mine. It felt incredible to push myself across his freshly-shaven face. I asked him if he was alright, stroking his hair in mock concern. He stuck his tongue up in response and I exhaled as I felt it slide into me. He might regret doing that. He kept his tongue rigid; a little odd, but I could work with it. I pushed my pussy into his face, feeling the pleasure deep in my abdomen as I rubbed against him, the slow rhyme keeping time with the throbbing inside me. The more excited I got, the rougher I was, humping his face and pulling his hair.

But something was wrong. As I rode his face, I began to feel full, almost as if I needed to pee. Suddenly, I knew what it was. Oh god, if I didn’t stop now… I moaned at the thought. My body was telling me I needed to squirt. What would he think, if I came on his face like that? Would he be grossed out? I was so close to the edge that I couldn’t imagine stopping. Another jolt of pleasure ran through my core. I looked down at his wet face and gasped as my climax rushed towards me. I panicked. Just as the impulse to orgasm reached its peak, I pulled away and took a deep, shuddering breath, absorbing just enough of the oncoming wave to spare David from my release.

I sat back on his chest, carefully breathing in and out as my orgasm receded into a heat of arousal and embarrassment. How was it, he asked, clearly thinking that I’d cum. It was great, I said, making no mention of the aborted climax. We made out some more, but soon I made my excuses and left him with his pants still on. I went home, mad but not sure why. As soon as my roommate went to sleep, I broke out my vibrator and got myself off as many times as I could. Each time, I hoped for an explosive, squirting orgasm, but it never came.

I spent the next week fuming. It wasn’t just sex; everything was going wrong. I got a C on my stats midterm, guys on dating apps kept ghosting, and my friend wasn’t talking to me. None of it mattered, but each thing added to the pile of frustration. Friday came around, and I hadn’t talked to David since the weekend. I shot him a guilty text. I said I’d really enjoyed last weekend, and maybe we could do it again sometime. Are you sure, he shot back; you seemed upset when you left. I didn’t have much of a response to that.

Another week went by. Then two. My roommate took me out to a party, not knowing what was wrong but insisting that I needed to get back on the horse. I watched her flirt with pre-med boys and listened to lazy pop songs with contempt. Then I got up to get a drink and there David was, talking with a group in the living room. He was flirting with some blond sorority girl, his body language unmistakable. I hate to admit I was jealous, but otherwise it’s hard to explain what I did next.

I went back to join my friend. Then, I pulled out my phone and texted David. I told him matter-of-factly that I wanted to taste his cum. Within a few minutes, he was coming over to join me. I hated the smug look on his face, but I was happy. He was going to get more than he bargained for.

We were never going to make it to his apartment, so instead we found a quiet spot on campus. It was night and no one was around. He pushed me up against a tree and kissed me roughly on the neck. I gasped as chemicals flooded into me. Was it that easy to push my buttons? I dropped to my knees and fumbled at his jeans. He pulled them open and let his dick spring lose. Surprising myself, I asked him to fuck my face. He grinned his obnoxious grin and pushed my head into the tree with his cock. Within a few minutes, he grunted and came in my mouth. My clit was throbbing hard now. I was so horny that I wasn’t sure whether I would stop if someone walked by. I was going to grind his face into the dirt. I swallowed and stood up. Now, I told him, I’m going to fuck your face. What, here? He seemed genuinely nervous at the idea, but I wasn’t going to be deterred. No over there, I said, pointing at a circle of bushes on the adjacent lawn.

He pushed himself back inside his pants and we walked over. I felt woozy, like I was riding up a roller-coaster. As soon as we reached the bushes, I pulled my tight blue dress over my head and stripped off my underwear. I was visibly flushed. He was going to take my cum like I took his. A breeze blew and I felt open to the world, cool air playing on my body. He lay down and I sat unceremoniously on his face. His fingers reached up, running in little circles around my nipples. Grinding my aching pussy on him, I reached back to feel his dick, which was fully erect. The feeling was building inside me again: It felt like I was ballooning, not sure if I was empty or full. One last time, I managed to pull myself off him. Holding my pussy an inch away, I told him I was about to squirt on his face. He looked up at me, a little shocked and gasping for air. Is that ok, I asked. Without a word, he bent upwards and gave me a wet kiss right where I needed it most.

As his lips pressed into me, I felt the ecstasy of an inexorable climax. My pussy, spread open on him, pulled back on itself in a rush of throbbing endorphins. The wave of pleasure surged upward, and this time there was nothing to hold it back. I didn’t dare open my eyes as I let loose, groaning at the sudden tightness that squeezed my clit. I let each contraction empty me, each ejaculation a release with nothing held back. It continued for what felt like an eternity, cum flooding out of me, leaving me in a fuzzy afterglow. Empty and happy, I looked down. He was smiling. Damp, but smiling.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/rxa086/fm_i_had_to_hold_in_my_orgasm_because_otherwise_i