Aug 012012
 

It’s summer. There’s a heatwave. Do we need any more reasons to be naked? Well, that’s how I go very often in the evening. Naked everywhere. The layout of my home is such that I can move about the entire home without being visible from the front or side windows where possible neighbors could spy on me. (Honestly, I could care less of they did anyway).

Last night I was naked, writing for my blog and watching TV. Early in the evening we moved to the couch to watch the Olympics. Our couch is actually a couch with an extra cushion that pulls out and up so its the size of a double bed. We keep it in this shape so we can sit and lay down or have full leg/foot rests at our leisure. It’s pretty comfortable.

We take our normal spots – me on the left, sitting up with my legs stretched out. He is laying down, head right hear my feet so his hands can cuddle my feet and legs. My feet wander around his hands or my legs split and my right leg wanders down his body.

This leaves my pussy wide open. Occasionally he reaches over and ever so gently he runs one finger up and down my my pussy lips, just touching my slit. He doesn’t press, he doesn’t move any closer. I can just feel his skin. It tickles and makes me quiver. I part my legs in a natural urge to get his finger into my lips toward my clit. He moves slowly up and down until I’m moaning, then stops.

Fuck.

This happens again and again. For hours. If I start to play with myself, he covers my pussy with his hand and won’t touch me. I have a clit boner, I can feel it. But he won’t fucking touch it.

About hour 3, he presses on my lips just north of my clit. It’s enough sensation to make me forget the TV, shut my eyes, and cry out for release.

“Maybe I won’t even let you cum tonight. Maybe you just have to wait until tomorrow night.”

I can’t help but bite my lip. I love the idea; it would make me so wet being forced to wait. I would wake up with wet thighs and my panties would be soaked from a full day at work just imagining what I will feel when my time comes.

But then I tell him how much I want to come tonight. Please. He moves his finger toward my vagina and wiggles just that little bit to make me think he’s going to finger me.

And then his finger’s gone.

“Maybe.”

Fuck!

The Olympics are over for the night. We get ready for bed and I see him selecting a vibrator from our toy closet. Oooh, so I am getting something….

We lay in bed and I assume an open legged position on my back next to him. He turns on the vibrator and skips my clit to insert it just a bit into my vagina. Then he turns it on and toys with the vibration level. He ignores my clit completely. I wait, trying to be patient. And then I’m tired of waiting. I tell him I can’t come from just this vibe. He tells me, “That’s OK” and keeps going.

My clit is aching for touch and orgasm. I see no other toys in sight and I have no idea where this is going. I give a slight whimper.

“When I’m ready.”

I try to be patient. I just close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of the vibrator in my vagina. I feel his weight shift, and the Hitachi is in his hands. He hasn’t removed the vibrator from me.

He pulls back my pussy lips and places the Hitachi on my clit, on low, pressing harder than I would normally. Pleasure floods my clit and pussy and he laughs as my body arches up. He holds it still for a few moments then starts to wiggle it. My hips start rocking up and down, legs slightly closing. He presses harder but I beg for less pressure. It’s too hard.

Instead of lifting up a bit, he pulls the whole thing off me, turns it on high, pulls the other vibe out, and presses the hitatchi hard onto my clit and down toward my vagina.

My reaction is instant loud screaming. He laughs at my almost inability to handle the pleasure and moves it up and down my cunt slightly.

“I can see you pushing out that cream from your pussy!” For a moment, I think he might take a lick, but instead he just presses the Hitachi into me.

I was already really aroused, but now my orgasm is building so fast my mind can’t keep up. I come screaming and I catch a glimpse of the grin on his face as I almost sit up in my orgasm whirl of movement. He continues to press the Hitachi into me as I fall back into my mattress then squeeze my legs shut, trapping the Hitachi more. Now I am screaming my loudest, screaming where my throat hurts. I can’t stop screaming, I can’t do anything but scream. It’s entirely in his control. My body moves into this rhythm of movement as three more orgasms hit me in quick succession.

He finally removes the toy from my body. It takes me several minutes to quiet down and relax my legs and body.

He again laughs at my inability to quiet down. I can’t feel anything but pleasure in my body.

I have to swallow several times to rehydrate my throat. “Wow… that was… *cough* some of the BEST orgasms I’ve had in a long, long time…” my eyes shut again.

“Oh really? Well, good.”

“Mmhmm. I was screaming as hard as I could.”

“I could tell… it’s kinda scary.”

“Scary?”

“Yeah, it scares me when you scream that loud.”

“Why?”

“Just does. I know you’re not hurt, but it’s really, really loud.”

  4 Responses to “Frustration and release”

  1. First off, very hot. I love reading about the chemistry you two have. Secondly, I can see how hearing someone screaming can be scary. I myself have never had or been a screamer, though I think I definitely have potential for it.

  2. We hate clothes. We rarely wear them, even now that we have a two-year-old child. She wears clothes, and in fact doesn’t seem very interested in being naked. But we are also cautious about raising her to feel weird about her own nakedness.

    If we were your neighbors, we’d love to catch a glimpse of you in the buff. Not that we’re creepy peeping toms or anything.

    Jill has never really been a screamer; she’s more of a really loud moaner. There are times when her sounds are very intense, but I don’t think I’d classify it as screaming per se. If she was a screamer, we’d have problems, because between the aforementioned two-year-old and our own neighbors who share a wall with us, incessant screams would be problematic.

  3. Really fucking hot!!

  4. Mrs. AP can scream with the best of the them. She tries to tone it down, especially both when we had roommates and now when we have a thin door in the same hallway as the kids. Sometimes, though, she just can’t help it. >:-D

    That is one hell of a way to warm you up to screaming level, though. I can only imagine how much fun that must be to watch. 😉

    Stay SINful
    Mr. AP

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