Male Erotic Orgasm Denial – Fun or Torture? ~ Peter Stone

Erotic Orgasm Denial - Fun or Torture?In 1973 I was twenty-five and had had a lot of sexual experience, dozens of sexual partners over the previous nine years, but with my move north in 1973 I was becoming a more conscientious individual, both in my work and in my sexual life. I even had a test for venereal disease in order to be sure I hadn’t picked anything up during my major sexual activity in London. I was fine. I had been lucky.

My new job, setting up and staffing a new computer department for a London firm in Newcastle, was an exciting and rewarding position. I’d had a couple of Geordie girlfriends and loved the accent, but Anne was, like me, up from London and working in another of the firm’s departments.

We hit it off straight away. Three or four dates, then a sleepover at hers, then it became more serious and she moved in with me, letting her flat-out to her original flatmate and her boyfriend.

Anne stood about my height with long natural blonde hair, a pink complexion, blue eyes and slim figure. Her breasts were on the large side of my normal preference, but perfectly acceptable and she had the perennial endless legs which I adored.

Our sex together was good. She had regular orgasms and was into everything, including anal, which really never appealed to me that much, but I participated whenever she wished by penetrating her anus. I’ve always tried to be cooperative in any relationship. You can’t ask for one sexual favour if you’re refusing to do something the partner would like. It was the hygiene aspect which bothered me and although she didn’t seem to mind if I moved from her anus to her vagina, I refused without first going and washing thoroughly. That tended to put her off asking unless she wanted me to orgasm inside her rectum, which I found OK, but never spectacular.

One weekend, still early in our relationship, I had booked two nights at a hotel in Manchester to see a show on the Saturday night as a birthday present for her. The morning after the show we took a leisurely breakfast and had nothing on our agenda. We had been thinking about going out to look around the city, but when we returned to the room we discovered housekeeping had already serviced it.

The room was luxurious and warm with a huge bed and Jacuzzi bath and Anne suggested that we sexploit it. Suited me fine – what’s to see in Manchester on a Sunday in the nineteen seventies, anyway?

She came over very sexy and very attentive and slowly undressed me, knocking my hands away when I tried to remove her clothes, then she pushed me down onto the bed and started kissing me from my toes to my ears and everywhere inbetween. Delightful. She worked her hands expertly over my penis and then gave me fellatio almost to the point of orgasm then stopped and returned to mouth to mouth kissing. I was desperate to penetrate her, but she still wouldn’t let me move.

My penis was on the verge of exploding and when she abandoned it the sensations began to retreat, but there was still a huge feeling of wanting to orgasm. Then she stopped kissing me and stood up, looking down at me spread-eagled on the bed and said, “Right, my turn.” I laughed and willingly complied. As she stood in front of me I undid her skirt and shuffled it down her body until she stepped out of it, then her tights, leaving her sexy briefs in place. Next I stood and got her to raise her arms and I extracted her from her ribbed sweater, then a skinny vest and her bra. I loved her breasts, they were full, but not excessively large, more than a handful, soft and warm. I bent and kissed her nipples until they stiffened then sat again and removed her briefs.

Now she stood naked in front of me. My erection had returned with a vengeance at the sight of her and I stood and drew her to me. She stood, motionless and allowed me to cuddle her and rub my feet, legs, thighs, arms, penis and chest against her body. She was playing some sort of non-responsive game with me. I circled her cuddling from each side, pushing my penis between her buttocks, rubbing it across them and eventually returned to face to face. I spread her legs slightly and pushed myself between her thighs, tight against her vulva, which felt warm and was becoming nicely moist.

She still didn’t move. I pulled her down onto the bed, rolled her onto her back, spread her thighs and pushed tenderly into her. Wow, such heat and such moistness and I was still wanting to come from her earlier fellatio. She still didn’t move at all, just allowed me to thrust gently away within her. After about ten minutes, despite my efforts to try to last longer, I really needed to come and I whispered, “Can I come, Anne?” I have always let girls know if I am near to orgasm as it gives them an opportunity to tell me to wait while they catch up if they are not quite ready. More recently it has also seemed to me that a man who ejaculates without saying he is on the way is actually abusing his partner. Surely she has the right to know. This is all as an aside to the fact that my penis was now hot along its entire length and I was very close to the point of no return.

Suddenly she pushed me off and rolled me over so that I was lying facing the ceiling, my penis bursting for orgasm and she leaned over me and caressed my face and kissed me passionately, breaking off to say, “No hurry. We’ve got all day.”

My God, she wasn’t going to let me come. I was so close I’m sure even the touch of her hand would have been enough at that moment, but she kept her hands and the rest of her body clear of the implement of my pleasure, leaned on one elbow and just looked at me lying there in my distress. “Give me an orgasm first, Pete,” she was one of the few girls who called me Pete. Now at least I knew what was going on. She wanted her orgasm first. No problem.

Her favourite position for cunnilingus was sitting on my face and I slid down the bed so that she could sit astride my head. She had one of the sweetest smelling vulvas I had ever encountered and her taste always started sweet but quickly became very musky as she became aroused. That was how she tasted now.

I couldn’t reach her vulva with my hands from this position and she reached down and spread her labia so that my mouth and nose were both almost inside them – her labia were large, but I don’t intend to give the impression that they were huge, but they were quite flexible and she pulled them to either side of my mouth so that my lips were tight against her vestibule.

I started long licks from the rear edge of her vagina, across its opening, over the small button of her urethra and up and under her hood, and again and again. Always the same direction, but at the top I started flicking the exposed tangle of her clitoris and its fraenulum from side to side. She liked up and down, but I didn’t see why I shouldn’t delay her fun, too.

I felt her lean back and her hand grasped my penis. Damn it all, the erection was still there but the heat of imminent orgasm was gone. She tenderly masturbated me while I concentrated on her vulva.

Although Anne was very responsive, it always took time and concentration to make her cum. After a couple of minutes I switched the sideways flicks to up and down flicks and kept my lips tight to her prepuce providing a slightly circular additional stimulation. It took about fifteen minutes before her breathing climbed into gasps, the little whimpers began, the odd cry of, “that’s so good” and “don’t stop” and “faster.” I complied with the last command eating as hard as I could into her clitoris and hood and moving my whole head forward and back and adding a base humming sound, the vibrations from which I knew had pushed her over the summit on previous occasions. The low base hum coupled with the vigorous masturbation suddenly achieved its target and she came, violently and beautifully. I always love to see and feel a girl come. It is one of my greatest delights in life.

She collapsed forward, supporting herself on the headboard while I felt her clitoris, like a tiny hard pearl, bouncing off my nose and her vulva heaving against my mouth and chin as it came forward with her motion. She was crying out with pleasure for about ten seconds then collapsed sideways onto the bed. I turned to her immediately and pushed into her and thrust hard, actually catching her last few contractions on my penis as her orgasm diminished. “Oh, Anne, you are so lovely,” I whispered as I speeded my own dash to orgasm, but she made a violent roll to the left and I was out of her again.

She laughed, “Not yet, Pete. Not ready.”

“Damn it,” I cried, “How the hell can you not be ready?”

I wasn’t angry, by the way. My words might have given that impression but she knew it was in fun. She turned and grasped my penis. Oh that felt so good.

She said, “I’m not letting you come yet. I want more.”

“More what? What would you like?”

“Give me a breast orgasm?” this was a new one on me.

“You want me to come between your breasts?” I asked somewhat surprised.

“No, Pete. I want you to kiss and tweak my breasts to orgasm,” this was definitely new, but then we were still learning each other’s ways. More work to do then.

She lay on her back and I leaned into her and began to kiss her breasts. Her hand went back to my penis, held it and tenderly massaged it again, but with the pre-orgasmic heat gone this was pleasant, but not enough to make me ejaculate and she knew it. She was teasing me.

While I sucked and flicked one breast with my tongue and lips, I did the same with my fingers on the other. They soon became fully erect and I used my teeth and fingertips to twist them aggressively one way and then the other, all of the time enjoying the wonderful sensation of her holding my penis. She’d stopped the strokes now and was just squeezing, creating the most amazing sensations near its root.

Suddenly her hand released me and was on her mons zipping her clit upwards and downwards rapidly. In fewer than thirty seconds she was gasping and let out a long distraught cry of “Ah,” and she came again.

I moved my hand swiftly to her vulva to feel her contractions and when she finished I kissed her tenderly, running my tongue softly over her lips. Hers flicked out to reach mine and they softly caressed and moistened each other. I broke off and just said, “And me?”

She breathed in one of those long recovering breaths smiled at me and said, “Not yet, but it would be nice to have you inside me a while.”

I started to mount her, but she stopped me and said, “sideways.”

She lay on her back and lifted her left leg, the one closest to me. I turned sideways, slid my own left leg under hers and over her right leg, then shuffled closer until I felt her take my penis and rub my glans up and down her vulva. It was so wonderful, her wetness and the heat of her engorged labia, then she allowed me to slide deeply into her. I started to rock myself back and forth and she pressed against my leg and said, “no moving.”

Of course, having my penis ensconced inside her vagina and the closeness of our legs and bodies was lovely. I didn’t need to move. I could enjoy the hot stillness and tight heat around my glans. She felt wonderful and then she began squeezing me inside her. Just about once every two or three seconds. Really hard squeezing. It increased my sensations and now I really needed to progress, to gently move in and out of her.

I made a tentative push and back and forward again. Wow, no. I was suddenly evicted and lying there against her entrance.

“If you want to be inside, no moving,” she stated.

“OK, OK,” I said and slid back into her, as slowly and as far as I could to get the most out of the entry. She was torturing me. It was so good inside her and I could feel the squeezes beginning again and decided to put up with my distress and enjoy the crumbs of sensation she allowed me.

“Come on, Anne,” I appealed.

“No,” she laughed, “you said this weekend was a present for me and this is what I want to do. I want you at my beck and call.”

“Oh, Anne, it’s torture.”

“Yes, hehe,” and she gave me several rapid squeezes, “you can stroke a little, but if you get too excited I’ll stop you. I’m not ready yet.”

Reprieve, I stroked gently and lovingly back and forth along her vagina, enjoying the wonderful sensations, trying not to give her any cause to stop me. Trying to control myself was making the enjoyment of her even more intensive.

We had returned to the room about ten thirty and it was now approaching two o’clock, our lovemaking was well into its fourth hour and my erection had been solid, give or take, throughout that time. I had never had such a long arousal.

While I was still desperate to come, the feelings I was experiencing were second to none.

Suddenly it was all action. One of her legs kicked out, she gasped in pleasure and I felt seriously lovely contractions all around my penis. She’d come again.

I was evicted from her vagina once more as she lay flat on her back, struggling for breath, recovering from her third orgasm, fourth if we count another tiny one I’d felt earlier which heralded the last.

As she recovered she leaned over and took me into her mouth. Oh my God, so intensive a sensation and in seconds I was on the edge and she stopped again. I couldn’t bear this any longer and appealed, “Anne, please.”

“Soon, but not quite yet. Play with my G-spot,” she commanded and I turned over and sat beside her, inserting two fingers into her vagina and feeling for the little raised rough area in the top of her love tube. I knew I’d found it when she hissed, “yes,” and I began to hook my fingers upwards, pressing, almost tapping it harder and faster, listening to the build up of her moans as the pleasure mounted.

I was on a mission, if I could get her to climax quickly then I would perhaps be able to have my own. In fewer than five minutes she was panting for breath and then cried out, as if in pain, as a vaginal orgasm struck her. I felt liquid running over my palm. She’d squirted, too, something I’d never got her to do before. I removed my fingers, looked hopefully into her dreamy eyes, and asked, “My turn?”

“Soon, come into me again sideways,” she replied and that began another extended period of her allowing me to thrust slowly and tenderly then stopping me and letting me start again.

Along the way she had another orgasm while I waited inside her like a train waiting for the station to clear. It was both agony and ecstasy, felt absolutely divine, but was totally frustrating. So much time passed and I must admit that I was becoming exhausted when I made another appeal for mercy as I lay prostrate after she’d had a sixth orgasm.

“Think you deserve it,” she replied.

I started to mount her, but she diverted me onto my back and climbed astride me facing my feet. The entry was divine with the angle of attack so severe at that angle and she rocked back and forth on me. Super, so tight, so much pressure on my erection. In the wardrobe mirror I saw her reach between my legs and her fingers were caressing my testes. Seeing myself in this position in the reflection added an extra something to the event. I felt her reach between her legs and unexpectedly one of her fingers joined my penis inside her. She raised herself slightly and I felt her turning her finger and rubbing it back and forth then she extracted it and sank down onto my full length again. I remember thinking, ‘what was that all about?’ when something even more unexpected happened.

Her finger was pressing against my anus and slid easily inside with the lubrication on it. That explained it. My body tried to evict the offending digit, but she was having none of that. What an odd feeling, wanting to have a movement from your behind, but feeling it moving within you. I think this was my first ever experience of anal penetration of me.

Her finger didn’t move any further into me, but began to rub upwards against the top of my rectum. I’d heard of this. Prostate massage. It was doing nothing for me, but I was comfortable with it as long as she continued to rise and fall on my penis.

As I felt the heat rising within my erection for the umpteenth time today, the pressure in my rectum changed somewhat. Another heat was building down there and a burning feeling was mounting at the very root of my penis deep within my body. This was a new sensation. It was making me stiffer than I can ever remember, my whole body seemed to be on fire and my orgasm came.

Her finger pressed hard towards my penis in my rectum with each of my pulses and I remember crying out with the pleasure and sensation of my paroxysms of ejaculation. She slipped her finger out and leaned forward putting huge pressure on my penis and I felt her come again and more of her ejaculate running down my testes and between my legs. What an incredible experience.

Click here to buy Peter Stone's BooksWhen I finally felt I had enough strength to stand up to visit the bathroom, I remember looking at the clock and it was nearly five in the afternoon. We had been making love for over six hours. She’d kept me in orgasm denial for nearly the whole time. I thoroughly enjoyed the Sunday of sex as a different experience, but I found the continual denial of my orgasms frustrating. I was in my twenties and could easily have come three times in those six hours, so it was really done as a fun trip for her which was fine by me.

She did it to me again occasionally, but usually only for a short time while I gave her an extra orgasm. It was good fun.

I do have more to write about the impact of orgasm denial with Anne at a future date as this post is already too long.

Angela and I have never tried it together. I don’t think either of us like waiting for our orgasms. Life’s too short. LOL. Before I’d finished this, Angie told me she’d been reading the Cougar Life page and I said I’d add it as a reference.

I hope it doesn’t give her any ideas as I could just do with a gentle, relaxing, session of vanilla lovemaking this afternoon. Can’t wait. Hope she feels in the mood.

What sort of day are you having, dear reader? What sort of sex have you had this weekend? Tell us about it.

Peter Stone, 13th January 2014

The image at the top of the post has nothing to do with male erotic orgasm denial, of course. I just found it on the web and thought it amusing.

One thought on “Male Erotic Orgasm Denial – Fun or Torture? ~ Peter Stone

  1. casey

    This blog post is incredibly hot! I simply had to read it two times in a row. Thank you!!!!! I didn’t even know about breast orgasms and I’ve read very little about prostate massage.

    I’m 21 and my partner, Sandra is 28. I feel that her orgasms are more important than my own, because seeing her having an orgasm is something so awesome and beautiful that I always feel a huge wave of inner happiness and satisfaction knowing that I made her feel that good. Sometimes I feel like it doesn’t even matter if I reach orgasm every single time we make love, as long she is always happy, because it always takes just so much less time for me to reach it and it’s not something I personally would get ever angry about.

    We have actually played a really hot game before where we agreed that I would have to give her three orgasm if I wanted her to give me one. We had lots of fun and for some reason I felt more satisfied than before.

    Last month we played a game where we agreed that I couldn’t orgasm or masturbate for a week but she could orgasm as much as she wanted. When we made love at the end of the week, I was almost dying to have an orgasm and when she finally said I could do it, I felt so UNBELIEVABLY good that even my vision went black for a moment. I’m almost positive it was THE best orgasm I have ever had.

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