This tale has been a long time in the making. I wasn't sure about writing it, the guy involved isn't SH, and though I know that the guy involved has dined out on this tale for a decade, I wasn't sure. Then I read Alyx G's post and they mentioned permission play. And it stirred not just a memory, but a memory. So here it is. Buckle up.
The year was 2011. I had finally got rid of the abusive husband, but I was still terrified of him as he seemed to know my every move somehow. He would ring me to tell me he knew where I had and if I didn't answer he would sit outside my house. Terrifying. Thus I kept New Boyfriend (NB) secret from all but my most trusted friends.
NB was 11 years younger, and probably the strangest fellow I have ever met, we broke up after 6 months over his cheating, a lack of cheese on my chips, and being terrible for each other generally, but good lord the sex was amazing.
Not from the beginning of course. It was good. We are both switches and we seemed to flow and switch mid act without even needing to say anything, but there were gaps in his sexual repertoire. Oral being the main one. He had no idea about it at all and once sunk his teeth into the top of my inner thigh rather than admit he didn't know how to do it.
Before I tell you the story of how we now now he is muuuuuch better at it, any woman who has had oral from him from 2011, you are welcome. I taught that man everything he knows (and not just that) and he was so keen to get it right, he was focused as fuck. He was going nowhere until he had listened to every single movement of your body and responded with his tongue and fingers. So you are welcome. Consider his technique my gift to womankind.
But I digress. Like Alyx G, I was in a long distance relationship, though not as far away, and I did get to spend a few days when I went to visit. And it was during one of those visits 16 and a half hours happened.
He hadn't managed to get a day off and I had annual leave. He had woken up in a mischievous mood and decided to get to fingering me as I woke up. I was ready for a lovely morning orgasm, then he withdrew his hand, got his mouth real close to my ear and said,
"Not yet."
It was on.
We had discussed that at some point my pleasure would be subject to his whims and he had decided that today was the day.
I had rules to obey. I was allowed to play with myself but under no circumstances was I to cum. He would know if I did. Every hour on the hour, I was to take a photo of myself in various states of undress and send them to his phone. If I forgot or was late, there would be consequences. I was to follow instructions as soon as they were sent or there would be consequences. I could ask permission for things, but if he said no, then that was what was meant. No delays, no excuses. Obedience or consequences.
Now, this may have been a flat in Suffolk rather than a chateaux in France but the teenage me who had read The Story of O and bloody loved it had grown up and was more than ready for this.
He went off to work and I had a play with my own tits while fingering myself. There was a certain luxury in knowing I wasn't allowed to cum, that there was not real end goal with touching myself, that I could just enjoy my body for its own sake. On the hour, I took the first photo. A low key, selfie with a bit of side boob showing. It was cheeky, but NB enjoyed me being a bit bratty as it gave him reason to punish me and I liked being punished, so...
Hour two I sent an upskirt shot (no underwear) in Tesco while I was shopping for ingredients for our dinner. I felt naughty. He was impressed. He made me sit on a bench with my skirt flapping in the wind and the cold metal on my cunt while I was on the way back. As soon as I was through the door I was wanking away, but very aware that I wasn't allowed to cum. I got close, really close, especially thinking about the hot guy who had walked past me gently rocking on the bench. I am wet and throbbing just thinking about his face.
I decided a bath would help calm me down. Just before I got in it, I sent another photo. This time a tasteful mirror selfie wearing one of his shirts with one breast exposed. The look on my face was calm, but the way I held my shoulders showed I was not.
The bath did help. I had calmed down listening to music in his massively deep tub. Next picture was with wet hair in a corner of a towel. He said the light wasn't great in the bedroom. Wanted to know why. The blinds were down. Why? Well, because of the builders...
Too late I realised my mistake. Before I knew it, I was butt naked, in front of the curtainless, open window rubbing cream into my skin while holding eye contact with any of the builders who looked at my face. NB was on speakerphone then.
"Rub it between your legs." I complied. And I kept going, pouring the cream over my breasts and rubbing it in.
"Slower. Give them a show."
By the time he got home from work at 5pm I was dripping. I had dared not even play with myself at all after the builders as I was afraid that I would orgasm and I had come so far (or not) that I wasn't about to lose now. I decided to take some power back. So when NB got home from work I had done all the housework, and was standing at the stove cooking bolognese. Wearing a tiny white flared skirt and white vest top without a bra or underwear. I knew he would not be able to resist me and I was right. He walked over to me and without even saying hello, undid his trousers and sunk his hard cock into me. I was winning, I had him exactly where I wanted him. Fucking me. I started to build up to the sweetest, best deserved orgasm ever. I must have been a vision, back arched, throwing it back so he went deeper and deeper and harder and harder, fuck me, fuck me, oh sweet jesus, fuck me, make me c...
He pulled out. Zipped out. Walked away calmly asking what time dinner would be ready. I got myself together and carried on cooking. I asked him how work had been. The whole time my cunt was throbbing and my juices were running down my leg.
After dinner he made me stand in the middle of the room while he put his hand between my legs while asking me questions about the builders. He wanted to know what I would have done if one knocked on the door. I told him I would have dragged him inside and ridden his cock. He said he would have liked to have watched that.
Then sat down and read the newspaper. While I stood there, not knowing what to do. So I did what I would usually do in that circumstance. I ripped the paper and sat astride him. He pushed me off and went back to reading it in two halves. I was furious, and he knew it. He laughed and told me to behave.
Eventually, he decided it was bed time. Which is where it got worse. I had taught him how to fuck me and he was a quick study. I was on the edge of orgasm for another few hours. He fucked, kissed, made me suck him, would only allow me to use my mouth and not my hands so I would choke. Put me over his knees and spanked me raw for transgressing.
I was close to tears, thinking at that point I would never cum, and he switched gear. Seemed almost contrite about what he had put me through. Made me lie on my front while he stroked my red ass with his fingertips, sending thrills through me. Then he knelt between my legs and ran his tongue over the stinging. The memory of it 12 years later still just made my clit throb. He started stroking my labia from behind then. Slowly. He turned me over and made sure I was comfortable before settling himself between my legs.
Then he went to work on my cunt. He knew my every sound, every gasp, twitch, sigh, breath. He tongued his way around like he had been created to eat me out. And he took his time. He was going nowhere. He slid that tongue up and down, lapping, sucking, slurping. He kept me just shy of exploding. And he did so for about half an hour before he decided it was time for me to cum. And I couldln't.
I had got to the point where I was so turned on that all that happened was that the pleasure kept building and building with now sign of release. Until I grabbed my roll on deoderant. And fucked myself quick and hard while NB sucked on my clit while simultaneously licking it.
And it happened. Now, I have since cum more intensly and harder (thank you Sexy Husband) but this had been building for 16 and a half fucking hours and I exploded. I screamed. It was primal. My whole body was shaking and trembling. I had lost the power of speech, I didn't know what day it was, where I was, even if I was.
Then I felt a popping in my brain. It felt like a slow motion film of a mushroom releasing spores. And woke up to a panicked NB calling my name and saying he was calling an ambulance. I was so terrified about what would happen if my ex husband found out that I was seeing someone that I wouldn't let him do it. I got myself checked out when I got home at the insistence of a friend who said "if you can tell me something good that comes from your brain going poof, then I will stop going on about it."
So now NB has been able to dine out on the story about how he once got a woman so turned on she had a Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA or Mini Stroke) for more than a decade and I know how much I like permission play. I still indulge with SH and whereas I haven't had another stroke, with him, I do have to have medication to prevent it.. Because, every single time that man comes near me, I just want to jump his bones.
So this, NB is the last time I will be telling this story. Though believe me, the row about the lack of cheese on my chips lives on in infamy.
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