I’ll admit, it’s always mildly frustrating to me that I can’t enjoy my mind-blowing climax by simultaneously shooting a load of warm, pulsing cum all over your face. It would be the ultimate exclamation point on the experience.
Good morning my corporate slut,
When I woke up this morning, the ache was impossible to ignore. It happens so quickly sometimes, without warning. I went to bed last night just fine. Practically “vanilla,” dare I say.
Then I woke up, presumably from a wet dream or some nasty thoughts drifting through my mind, and all I can think about is the way your mouth looks when it is wrapped completely around my latex cock.
All I can think about is how I marvel, sometimes, when I am holding your head and using my hips to propel the full length of the shaft in and out of your lips. How I examine your face, the way your lips form a tight seal around the latex, how you are able to take the entire cock deeper and deeper with each persistent push.
I reflect as I am fucking your face with my fake appendage, on how good it must feel if my cock were real. The shivers in my body, the trembling, is almost a direct reflection of how sensitive my cock would be to the perfect pressure and slick, tight lips of your seal.
Then I get lost in the look on your face, the strain, the way your eyes water slightly and your eyelashes get wet. The way drool begins to form at the corners of your mouth and the groans turn to gurgling choking sounds, but I just keep pumping and thrusting.
The pressure of the base of the cock against my crotch is rhythmic and sensational. It, alone, brings me to the edge of orgasm every single time. I have to hold back, trying not to cum. I keep thrusting, tightening the grip on your head as I slide my thick cock in and out of your mouth, but I am really just holding myself off.
I was smirking, I’ll admit, this morning, thinking of holding off that orgasm. I had to giggle while wrestling around alone in my sheets with my fingers in my pussy, because of the image in my head.
It’s ironic that while I am fucking your face with my strap-on cock, even I have to “hold off” on cumming. Much like a man that doesn’t want to blow his load too soon. How many times have men, over the years, made a woman keep gagging and choking on his cock because he was delaying the moment, delaying his pleasure, taking as long as he could, dragging it out. Even though, clearly, she’s completely tired of choking on a cock.
And to add insult to injury, of course, after all that time, for him to pull out and cum on her face.
It’s so fitting now that I find myself often on the edge of orgasm when your mouth has been stretched to its limits and your throat is as open as it could be, and you can barely take sucking but I make you keep going. I just tighten my grip on your hair until you wince in pain, and I say, “Eat my dick, whore. Keep slurping. Keep sucking. Suck it hard, you know you love my dick in your mouth…”
I could hold off on my orgasm for quite some time. I just slow down on the thrusts to relieve the pressure from my crotch and shut my eyes and think about baseball. Isn’t that what men do?
I stop thinking about how good it feels against my pussy, about how degraded and humble you look when you are sucking my cock so eagerly. I try to not hear your ragged strained breathing that turns me on so much. I don’t look into your eyes, which are pleading and desperate and so absolutely intoxicating.
Sometimes I even loosen my grip on your hair and let the strands fall free from between my fingertips because even the subtle feel of the tension from your head trying in vain to control movement is enough to push me over the edge.
Like a man who wants to delay orgasm as soon as possible, I may slow down but I never stop. I just keep letting my cock slide in and out of your mouth with ease, as I clear my mind, knowing that the longer I hold out, the more pleasure I can enjoy.
As the sounds become undeniably deafening, I can no longer ignore the sensations. The orgasm is approaching, and there’s nothing I can do about it but ride it out. Oh, how horrible this must be for a man when he wants the pleasure to continue but it’s just too late.
I’ll admit, it’s always mildly frustrating to me that I can’t enjoy my mind-blowing climax by simultaneously shooting a load of warm, pulsing cum all over your face. It would be the ultimate exclamation point on the experience.
But I still take great pleasure in knowing that you must suffer through my groans of pleasure while you choke on my cock, while those last few thrusts come with a total disregard for your existence and discomfort. That my very orgasmic, involuntary thrusts serve to just choke you a little more one last time since I’m effectively out of my mind at the moment
And I suppose it’s not so bad, that I can’t quirt a load all over your face. After all, there’s one more thing I can do that you – or any man – cannot. Simply, I can keep going. My cock, as you are very aware, is always hard and always ready to go.
Even in the beautiful, glowing moments of post-orgasm bliss, as you very well know from experience, I can just smile and run my fingers through your hair. And keep pumping. After all, it’s not like you are going anywhere.
Affectionately,
Mistress Akasha
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