by Johanna Dowson
(05/10/06)

I

"You're so close, aren't you," she said, slowing the movement of her hips. I whimpered, my muscles tight and quivering, my cock throbbing deep inside her. I was right at the threshold, desperate for relief.

"Stop!" I gasped.

She stopped. The gentle nibbling at my earlobe ceased; she bit just hard enough to draw me back from the edge. "We could finish it now," she coaxed.

I felt cool air on my shaft as she lifted her buttocks.

"Four or five strokes and it would all be over. It'd feel so good! Just one little word. That's all it would take."

"Never!" I forced the word through my teeth. "I'm not going to let you win."

II

It had started, innocently enough, the previous week. We were redecorating the family room, and Leah, my wife, was on a plastic-covered stool rolling paint onto the ceiling. I was using a roller with an extension handle, cursing as another droplet of paint splattered my face. I stopped to stretch the kinks out of my aching back.

"Growing older is no fun at all," I said, wincing.

"There are lots of compensations." She smiled: "Our time is our own now that we're retired. We're still young enough to travel, to hike, and to enjoy the grandkids. A little stiffness now and again is a small price to pay."

"You're right. I shouldn't grumble. But I do wish I was less prone to stiffness in the back and more prone to stiffness in the front!"

The smile lines around her grey blue eyes deepened. "You're a fine wine that's best savoured rather than gulped."

We put away our tools, stripped off, and headed to the shower to scrub paint off each other. As the steam billowed around us, I caressed Leah's soft curves, while she soaped parts of me that couldn't possible have been spattered with paint.

It was late and it didn't seem worth getting dressed again, so we settled for bath robes and a bottle of wine. Leah raised her glass, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "We'll do the walls tomorrow and then, while you paint the French door, I'll do the trim."

I groaned. "Come on dear! You know I only agreed to the French door because you promised to paint it." The French door, her pride and joy, separated the family room from the kitchen.

The wretched thing had fifteen small windows with wooden lattice-work between them. When Leah had originally suggested a French door, I had argued strenuously for something simpler. Painting it took a mile of masking tape, a great deal of patience, and hours of time.

Leah feigned astonishment. "You mean to say you haven't got over that little tantrum you had when I bought it?" She gave an exaggerated sigh. "I guess I'll have to paint it then."

I poured us both another glass of wine and we snuggled, our free hands wandering under each other's robes. It's a curious thing, but I've noticed that when we're both aroused, Leah is always able to think more clearly than I. Perhaps it's all that blood migrating south. She finished her wine and, gripping my balls firmly, began stroking my shaft very slowly. My remaining critical faculties were instantly submerged in a sea of lust.

"Tell me about your favourite sex scene," she said.

I stopped tonguing her nipple long enough to utter a muffled, "You've heard it all before."

"Tell me again," she insisted.

Gathering my scattered wits, I replied, "I love it when you tease me mercilessly until I can't hold out any longer, and then we have a mind-blowing fuck."

She stopped stroking and my arousal ebbed a little. "I know you love being held close to orgasm for a long time -- but I don't really like it. As soon as I get close, I want to finish."

My erection sagged. I began to feel anxious. "We've always been different that way, but I thought you were comfortable teasing me as long as you got to climax whenever the tension bothered you."

Leah smiled reassuringly. "Oh, I like teasing you. It just that I get so turned on by having orgasms while you're denied them. Shouldn't love be all about sharing?"

"I'm not really being denied. You'd finish me off any time I asked. It's great the scene turns you on and I love the huge bang I get at the end. What could be more loving than that?"

"I suppose so," she said uncertainly. "I just don't like the idea that, subconsciously, I might be getting back at you for all the little irritations in our relationship."

I thought for a while. "Do you feel like you're suppressing resentment?"

"No. We always sort things out"

"But it can still leave you wanting to hit me over the head with a pillow?"

"Yes!...Without really hurting you, of course."

"Perhaps denying me sexually is just another way of thumping me with a pillow?" I suggested.

Leah was quiet, but then she resumed her gentle stroking and treated me to a big grin. "OK! You've convinced me. I won't feel guilty about teasing you anymore! We deserve a rest from painting. Why don't we have a big tease tomorrow?"

"That'd be great!"

"Think this fellah can hang on until tomorrow?" she said, patting my cock.

"If you can handle it, so can I!"

"Well!" Leah said. "Why don't we make a contest out of it? We need an incentive. Let's see now...what could we come up with?"

She looked at my puzzled expression, the mischievous twinkle back in her eyes.

"I know," she said, as if it was a brand-new idea. "Hold out against all my teasing until 10 p.m., and I'll paint the French door. If you can't, the job's yours!"

I'd been set up. She'd even given herself a head start by revving me up to the red line a day ahead. "But you agreed to paint the door when we bought it. What's my incentive for taking the chance of being stuck with it?"

"You get to live out your fantasy all day long -- and we have a great lovemaking sometime during the day. How can you lose?"

"I can lose by having to paint that horrible door."

Leah snuggled up, pressing her breast against me. "Come on! You know you'll have a wonderful time, and with your iron self-control, you're not likely to lose."

"What if you accidentally put me over?"

"It's my job to make sure I don't, but if I do, we just carry on as if nothing had happened. Obviously my chances of winning get much lower. At the same time, I have to put you on your honour to tell me when you're getting close. You can't masturbate either."

"You're on! We fight to the orgasm."

III

It was still dark. I woke to feel warm breath tickling my groin and a soft wetness enveloping my cock. She let go long enough to say, "I thought I'd get off to an early start!"

Remembering our contest, I wriggled away from her.

"Oh no!" she said. "You agreed to submit to my caresses. Lie back and enjoy!"

Then she kissed me, rolled over, and was soon asleep. I remained awake for quite a while.

The clock radio woke me. She was already snuggled up behind me, gently stroking. I drowsed for a while as pleasure infused me; then, rolling over, I kissed her and started to leave to get our morning coffee: an inviolable daily routine.

She protested. "I'd like a little lovemaking before you go."

"I never turn down a request from My Lady," I replied. I settled back into bed, and set myself to stroking her. She continued to fondle me. After a while, I slipped in from behind, barely thrusting, stroking her clitoris. She seemed to understand that I couldn't manage hard strokes without losing control. As she became more aroused though, her restraint gave way. She came hard, gasping from the force of her climax just as I desperately pulled out.

I had survived Leah's first orgasm. We snuggled for a few minutes, my rigid, twitching penis pressed against her. I set off for the kitchen reflecting that the sexual slowdown that comes with age can occasionally be a blessing.

After enjoying breakfast in bed, Leah ordered me to take off my robe and lie on my back. Anointing me with lube, she sat astride me. Labia parted, she pressed her clitoris to my cock. She rocked back and forth, and as I stiffened, she pinched my nipples and stroked my chest. She watched my arousal carefully, slowing when she thought I was close. I exaggerated my groans of pleasure, hoping that she would ease up prematurely. Time and again, she brought me to the edge and cooled me down until at last she came with a shudder. She guided me into her and moved up and down while kissing my neck and nibbling my earlobes.

My whole body craved release.

I was in deep trouble.

IV

"Four or five strokes and it will all be over. It'll feel so good! Just one little word."

"Never!" I forced the syllables through my teeth. "I'm not going to let you win."

"My brave husband," she said, climbing off me. "I'll give you a rest. We'll take a shower and we'll walk around the lake. By the way, do you mind if I shave a little hair just an inch or two below your belly button?"

"Whatever for?"

"Oh," Leah said airily, "I have a little toy I want to tape to you."

I was intrigued and alarmed, but I didn't probe. I would know all about it soon enough. In the shower, we washed each other's backs and she shaved a narrow strip just below my navel. Then she had me lie on the bed and, gently teasing me erect, taped my penis to my abdomen with medical tape. "The trouble with your penis is that it changes size. Will it hurt you to be stretched if you lose your erection?"

"As long as you don't stretch it longer, it won't hurt at all."

Taking her small vibrator, she taped it to the sensitive area just below the head of my penis. "It's the one with a remote control," she giggled. "It might make our walk more interesting!"

"Isn't the bulge going to show?" I asked in a panic. "What if I ejaculate?"

"I suppose you could drape your jacket over your arm if you need to hide anything." She laughed.

Leah pocketed the remote and we set off on our walk. At first nothing happened. It was a lovely sunny day, and I almost forgot about my predicament as we left the road and strolled beside the lake.

That was when the buzzing started. Curiously, it didn't make me erect, but the constant stimulation made it hard to hold up my side of the conversation. She added to my difficulties by fondling my buttocks.

"Teasing you is such a turn-on," she said. "I'm going to need some relief from all this sexual tension when we get home." She favoured me with a fiendish grin. "I bet you'll give up and be ready to join me in a rip-roaring orgasm."

I tried to think of anything but the buzzing below my navel. We left the park and began to walk through busier parts of town. She lowered the intensity of the vibration but I was in such a state that it didn't help much.

"How be we stop for lunch?" Leah suggested.

I groaned. "Shouldn't we get home, for your sexual relief?" I asked hopefully.

She led the way into the coffee shop and selected a table for two by the window.

"I'll have coffee with milk, and a tuna sandwich please."

I approached the counter with the nasty certainty that I was going to be zapped. The noise level in the coffee shop would certainly mask the vibrator. Just as it was my turn to be served, Leah revved the power up and down repeatedly. I managed to stutter out our order while juggling my jacket -- and my wallet -- and blushing furiously at the quizzical look on the waitress's face.

I paid, gathered the tray and made my way to our table, bent over to try to minimize the effect of Leah's playfulness.

"Is your back sore, poor dear?" she crooned, as she turned off the instrument of my affliction. "You're all hunched over."

I glared, but held my tongue: I didn't want to provoke her.

We started for home, chatting about our garden, when we ran into the very attractive daughter of a friend. She and Leah talked animatedly while I stood to one side enjoying the woman's sun-tanned breasts, showcased by her sundress. Leah must have noticed out of the corner of her eye, because a very gentle tingle began, provoking a huge erection. I felt both wonderful...and horribly frustrated.

As we parted, I darted a look back at the girl's swaying bottom and endless legs. The power jolted. I gasped.

"Naughty! Naughty!" Leah said.

I grinned cockily. "You always said that it didn't matter where I got my appetite as long as I ate at home."

She smiled and turned off the vibrator again. "Don't want you getting numb, do we?"

V

When we arrived home, she carefully removed the medical tape and sponged us both with a warm facecloth.

"Sixty-nine," she announced cheerfully. "Me on top."

I set to work with a will while she tongued my balls. It took only a few minutes swirling my tongue around her swollen bud before she was invoking the deity. She came with a shuddering moan and collapsed.

"Wow! That was really great," she said. "I can't remember ever being so horny." She snuggled up, head on my chest. "I'm really impressed at the way you're holding on. Why don't we call it a draw? I'll put the masking tape on the door and you paint it."

I thought for a moment. "I wouldn't want to do this very often, but I'm having a wonderful time. After all you're doing for me today, I'll tape and paint your French door, regardless."

"You're a softy and I love you. But a deal's a deal -- if you want to carry on, we should keep to the original conditions. No mercy!" Leah studied my genitals. "I don't think I've ever seen you so erect. The head is all shiny and purple and your balls are huge. How do you feel?"

"Stinging testicles. Not severe, but persistent. Swollen. I crave your touch, but at the same time it increases my need for release. Catch 22."

We spent the afternoon puttering in the flowerbeds. Leah did nothing further to stimulate me, but she brought us both long cold glasses of tonic water. Eventually, Leah led the way to the bedroom. We both stripped. She plugged in our vibrator and stretched out on the bed, legs apart. She ordered me to kneel between her legs with my cock pressed against her pussy. She spread a lubricant on us and held my cockhead on her clitoris, pressing us together with the vibrator head.

She began small pelvic thrusts, to increase the stimulation. I gasped with the intensity of it, but each time I drew close to ejaculating, she removed the vibrator. As the sensation ebbed, she'd reapply it, asking me if I'd like to come.

My refusals were increasingly desperate.

Gasping, face and chest flushed, she suddenly pressed down hard with the head of the wand. My cock convulsed as she groaned in ecstasy.

After, we lay close, holding each other as our thudding hearts quieted. My groin and abdomen were really uncomfortable: I was coming to the conclusion that things had progressed beyond the point of enjoyment.

Leah sat up and again examined me. "Oh," she exclaimed, "you are in tough shape. I'll just soothe you with a massage." She grinned, "What can we do to take your mind off your troubles? I know! Why don't you suck on my nipples, poor dear?"

I sucked like a man possessed. I sensed now that she'd keep teasing me until I broke. She teased me to the edge, then stopped just in time so that my cock spasmed in vain.

My balls were ready to burst. My prostate ached, my penis was bloated and throbbing. I was consumed by lust. I'd had it. "Enough," I moaned. "Please, please, let's finish this."

She pushed me on my back and guided me in.

She pumped hard. I gripped her buttocks desperately, my whole body tensing unbearably. My explosion was cataclysmic. Spasms of pleasure wracked me, on and on.

VI

We lay gasping, unstrung, hearts pounding, holding each other. She kissed me softly. My muscles were jelly. I couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed. "My wicked cock-tease," I murmured.

"My iron man," she chuckled.

I had one last thought before drifting off. Perhaps painting the French door wouldn't be so bad after all.

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