Last night, we were getting a little frisky before bed. There had been a lot of tender touching and feeling up, though neither of us had reached the other’s nether bits. Jalan started slowly grinding into my crotch with her hip and asked how long it had been since I’d had an orgasm. I fumbled a bit, but eventually came up with 10 days (since we were in a motel in Minnesota).
I hasten to note that it had been nowhere near that long for her — at least one provided by me, and at least two by Mr. Hitachi, since our return Monday. Those are just the ones I’m aware of. I’m a sound sleeper, and she also takes long showers.
She asked how that felt, and I did my best to describe the neediness. We haven’t had our regular sex life since I got sick, so I wasn’t quite as starved as I would once have been at that point, but she was pretty pleased with the results of the “undeclared’ denial.
She got one of our favorite lubes (shoutout to http://www.nuruslide.com/ — the most natural-feeling stuff we’ve encountered) and started slicking me up with a long, slow handjob, reaching for more lube as needed. Finally, I gasped “getting close, Ma’am,” as she wants me to. Her response? “I know.”
Just as I was ready to come, my whole body quivering and shaking against her, she ruined it expertly. Stopped all but the lightest touch then I was past the point of no return, then stifled the rest with a hard grip mid-shaft.
After all was done — as done as it was going to get for me — I asked the question in the title. (I suspect a particular one of her other partners would “appreciate” ruined orgasms, so it was a fair question.) She said no, that she just wanted “to see what would happen.” Suffice to say, it worked for her. And for me, in my own peculiar way. She also required me to do my best to explain how having it ruined felt. That was mostly stumbling for words, so I won’t embarrass myself further here by trying to recapture it.
Now she has a new button to push. And I had the weirdest dreams.
I love my life.