Something happened last night. I went somewhere. I didn’t even know it was real. I didn’t even know it existed. I didn’t know it was possible to feel that way.
I bought a new toy. A lovely glass dildo that I’ve basically fallen in love with. I’m not sure any penis will ever compare.
And, I begged to cum. Not because I really wanted to. “Please, I want to cum”, actually meant “please, play with me”.
The thing about this story is, I have to read back our texts. I can barely remember what happened. I was there, following instructions, responding to questions, but my mind was… somewhere else.
He told me what to do. To use a little bit of lube, and slide it over my sensitive pussy, having edged hard shortly before. He told me to insert it. I did as I was told. He told me to push it deeper. I slowly, carefully, with more lube, did as I was told.
And back to my clit. Rubbing the glass over it. I can’t explain how good it felt.
And he told me to put it back in. I didn’t even question him: he said, I did. I was already going into a sort of sub space. It was nothing compared to what was about to follow.
I’m so close, I begged. Please, let me cum. Please, don’t let me cum. I want to be good.
“You will be good. Nice slow strokes.”
That’s when he started to push me. I was so close, each and every stroke felt as if it would take me over. Every time I pulled the dildo out, my pussy clenched, my muscles tensed, and I tried, desperately, to hold back. One of the towels I had ended up on my chest, in my mouth, as I tried to keep my orgasm back, like holding back a wild horse.
He became cruel. “Don’t stop, and don’t cum, is that clear, denial slut? Shut up and fuck.”
It turned me on more. I tried to take breaks, I tried to go slower, I tried a different position. I kept myself on the edge for… longer than I would have imagined possible.
“Good girl. Slide it out, and into your mouth.”
I was grateful for the break. Thankful for the pain of my pussy clenching, aching, screaming for an orgasm. I was relieved to have something in my mouth. Sucking, I know how to do. Even if it wasn’t a real cock.
When he told me to go back to my clit, I realised the break hadn’t helped at all. I felt it in my entire body. I told him, desperately:
“I’m literally two strokes away from cumming my clit feels so warm and swollen and ready and I can feel this orgasm built up in my body unable to escape and every neuron fired up and every inch of my body sexual.”
Now that’s what I call an edge, he said.
Something happened. I don’t remember how. All I remember my entire body was on fire. I could feel the edge from my clit down my legs into my toes. From my bottom to my lower back through my spine to the top of my head. I felt it in my forehead and my cheeks, I felt it in my breasts. My hands were shaking, or was that afterwards? I don’t remember.
I don’t know if the slightest touch will make me cry or cum, I said.
Cry for me, he encouraged.
“I’m not even sad, it’s just my whole body is sex.”
“There’s poetry.”
I sobbed. I wept, and even that nearly made me cum. I kept touching myself, barely even moving. Slowing down. Slowing down even more. And then finally, coming to a still point. The dildo inside of me. My head empty. My body filled. As my breathing slowed, all I felt was my heartbeat.
Wherever I was, there was nothing there. Just my heartbeat, and sex, and there he was. Talking to me.
“Well done. That was beautiful.”
I went somewhere, I said. I’m not sure where.
Edge-space, he said.
I didn’t know I could go there.
And now, I want to go back.
And I think that about sums it up. Beautiful. Good girl.
