Lust Dance

You’re reading. Maybe lifting your coffee or tea mug to your lips as you tune in to see what devious story nilla has spun today?

Ah, but today is not a devious story created by me, but for me.

Today, I am with my Master.

Not just tea at Starbucks, but behind-the-door with Him.  His fist in my hair, His body on mine, with my Master.  Absolutely Fucking- A-awesome! I’ll be flying high tonight, drunk on pain and sex. I’ll be weak and shaking-handed tomorrow, and likely unable to think coherently (unless I have time to pre-write for ya’ll…if not, I know you’ll understand my hazed condition!)

Master spends time the week before a meet…preparing me. Mind fucks abound. Teasing. Hints of torture. Little ….things He says. Things He does. Sexing me up with His words, and texts, only to leave me hanging…shaking with wanton desire. The rampant need to cum only surpassed by my unrelenting admiration for the pure deviousness of this Master of mine.

I’ll let you in on a behind the scenes, during the week scenario He spins for me.

You know I’m not allowed to orgasm on Thursday. (ZNN Day) Which  usually runs into late  Friday evening, until He either has phone sex with me and allows me to cum, or gives me permission to masturbate. This depends on his schedule, primarily. So, most weeks, no Orgasms for about 48-50 hours.

Thursday, I’m slogging through vanilla stuff. A mandatory meeting. Helping a friend out with a ride. Yada, yada. And some house renovation preparations.  He texts me.

BTW…might have a guest DOM cock for you to suck on Sunday.

That was it. Right there in the middle of  ZNN.  A commingled rush of lust and fear and nerves.

Later He says “no promises….” because He isn’t sure of this other D’s availability. But once more, that rush of lust and fear and …submission.  I’m so turned on. And I tell Him. And it’s torture, to be so turned on, and have it be ZNN.

He loves hearing that.

**************************

He’s ramped up the “torment” this week. Sunday night? I ask and receive permission for an O.  He says he’ll generously increase that. Coz my care is His responsibility. I get an O…and a half.

The half MUST be taken last.

Then no O on Monday, just that constant state of arousal.

On Tuesday He gives me two O’s. But since He really, really likes me on Tuesdays… He’ll bump that up to 2…and a half. The half to be taken …last.  Then ….He amends it further.

I get a choice!

(He says that in the same tone of voice that announces the WINNER!)

I  may take just one single O. No halfies at all. But only ONE orgasm.

Orrrrrrr…I can take two Orgasms…plus the half O, which must be taken at the end.

We chat. He tells me to take my hand off my nipple and listen up.  How He knew? I’ll never know. I don’t play with my nipples that much. I don’t.  Between that little “gotcha”…and the CHOICE….when He hangs up the phone, I can hear  the smug in His voice. So sure I’ll bite for the bigger number. So certain  that I’ll self-torture myself so that I get that extra Orgasm.

No. Won’t.

I’m not gonna. Nope. Not me.

I peg and clamp and…soon it’s apparent.  Oh hell.  I’m going to go for it. I HAVE to. …I know one O won’t be enough. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal for almost 49 hours. I’m desperate enough to take the sucker deal.

Whoa. The two O’s come smack dab back to back. I know there is another just laying under the surface….yet I have to jerk away at the last second, crying and moaning with my own need, and my bargain with the Devil.

Wednesday I’m given another O.

Yes.

And a half.

See the pattern here? He is making me nearly insensate with lust. You’d not believe the number of typo’s I’ve corrected in this, already. It’s amazing. It’s frustrating. He knows me so frikking well.

So, as sub-sis aisha says, I’ve been “holding the tension” all this week. Slipping and sliding down that slippery slope that is the lust I feel for this Man. Wet, throbbing, wanting…I am a wanton, craven whore. He doesn’t MAKE me that…I do it all on my own.

But He knows *exactly* which buttons to push, which knobs to turn, to ratchet me up to a level that is almost unbearable…then eases me back down…then sends me flying back up. It is the most excruciatingly amazing, exacting dance that we do.

And I have absolutely no doubt as to which of us is Leading.