About a year ago I used to get so frustrated about not being able to cum. Today though… I’ve accepted it? Sometimes embrace it. I have even considered not cumming at all, ever. Tonight as I felt those tantalizing vibrations on my clit I realized something. I don’t crave to have an orgasm as I used to. I don’t get pissed off by the fact that I’m nowhere close to it. I’m no longer pursuing an orgasm, at least not in the same way as a year ago. With the same eagerness. Full of hope; the unrealistic kind. Which means I don’t get to feel all that infuriating frustration anymore. Well guess what. I miss it. And I want it back. I want to go back to square one just so I can get that feeling. The one I hated so. The one that tormented me for years.
@female-orgasm-denial had suggested that people reach out to you to taunt you about how they can come but you can’t. And I felt a little bit sad that I couldn’t join in that fun, because I not only can’t come, I’m not allowed to touch except under very particular circumstances.
But this, this I can tease you about. I have all that frustration that you miss. It all belongs to me. I’ve become the quean of gushing out hot tears of desperate longing, of knowing that I’d give ANYTHING to be thrown down and hatefucked into a squalling, mindwiping, eyerolling cum. Or, you know, even just allowed to have a little oopsy-that-edge-went-too-far disappointing ruined orgasm. But I know that I’m not allowed to come. My body and mind are very obedient to the man who holds that permission out of my reach, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not permitted to indulge in desperate extremes of frustration.
It is torment, and it is SO good.
At this point, I’d be distraught if I were allowed to come, because it would deprive me of this excruciating craving. It has only been a few weeks, and I’m awestruck by the probability that this frustration will not only not abate, but continue to intensify. I can’t even imagine how it could get worse… but I said that yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.
If someone had told me I was going to be jealous of you because of this particular situation over a year ago, I would’ve thought they were insane. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe this is insane. How can I crave what you’ve got? It’s something I’ve been fighting for quite a while now, yet I’d love to go back to the start. Touching myself over and over again, every single moment I could just to have my hips buck in frustration as I felt my chance to have an orgasm slipping right between my fingers. Day after day.
Fuck you are lucky!
