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Life on the Edge of Orgasm

By: Dicknstreet



Chapter 1

My life began as a tingling sensation in my groin, growing stronger by the minute. It was as if someone were stroking my cock, slowly, the full length of it. I realized I was on the edge of orgasm, and had been for as long as I could remember. I knew that if I came, it would be mind-blowing, but it just felt so damn good.

It felt like a well-lubed hand wrapped around my cock, starting slow at the base and slowing down as it rose; on every stroke, I felt an orgasm coming on but the hand stopped and loosened its grip just as it reached the crown, causing the impending orgasm to back off, keeping me on the edge. After the shortest of pauses, it continued its slow progress over the head with a very loose grip, just barely touching. Fingertips lingering on the head of my cock, shifting ever so slightly. Nothing for a few seconds, then grasping again at the bottom of my shaft, repeating the upstroke. After three, maybe four of these, each one ending with fingertips dancing lightly on the head of my cock, I felt a firm grip around the head and a slow movement downward and, when it reached the bottom, starting back up. Each time, I felt the orgasm boiling up from within, but at the last instant, nothing again as the hand lifted away. A longer wait this time, perhaps 10 or 15 seconds as my orgasm subsided. The cycle began again with a slow upstroke.

I don't know how long this had been going on; I felt sluggish, as if drugged, and my arms and legs felt heavy, very heavy. And my balls, I was distinctly aware of a delicious ache, a heaviness, it contributed to the overall feeling that I was in the middle of one long orgasm, but without ejaculating. And as badly as I wanted to ejaculate, had I been given a choice, I would have had the tease continue, forever if possible. 

I did not perceive the passage of time, but I did have a strong sense of déjà vu, as if this were a recurring dream. I became convinced that it was not a dream, and that it had happened before, many times. In fact, I had no recollection of anything else. I remembered hearing voices, but not understanding what was said. Eventually I opened my eyes, slowly, about halfway at first. I heard two distinct female voices, and this time, I understood the words. 

"His eyes are opening, is he awake?" asked the first voice.

"Nah, coma patients open their eyes all the time, some of 'em."

"Does he know what you're doing?"

"Maybe he does, maybe he don't, but if he wakes up, he won't remember. Might remember it as a dream, but at least it's a good dream. Most these patients say the nightmares are pretty bad, at least, the ones can talk after they wake up; I'm giving 'em something nice to dream about."

"The ones who can talk?"

"Brain injuries, you never can tell. Most never wake up. If they do, maybe they can talk, maybe they can't. Same with walking. Eating. Going to the bathroom. The lucky ones, they come out okay." 

The conversation continued, as I stared ahead with a blank look on my face. It was definitely not a dream, but I wasn't ready to let on that I was awake. I don't even know for sure I could have formed the words. It felt so good, what she was doing, holding me right on the edge, I wanted it to continue forever. A soft moan escaped my lips.

I opened my eyes a bit more. The light was dim, and I could see hazy, unrecognizable shapes before me. I don't know how much time passed while I was in that space between waking and sleeping. Eventually, things started to come into focus. The room was vaguely familiar; soon I recognized it as a hospital room. I could see a rather large middle-aged African-American woman dressed in blue scrubs, manipulating my erect, well-lubricated penis with both hands. 

"See," she said, "when he's about to shoot, hands off, or at least stop moving. When you aren't touching it, is when he wants it the most."

Another black woman, similarly dressed, much younger but equally large, stood on the other side of the bed, watching intently and asking questions. 

From what I could see, feel and hear in those first few minutes, I gathered I'd been injured quite badly in an accident, and had been in a coma. My legs, both in casts, were splayed out, my right leg held aloft by some kind of traction device. My arms were still too heavy, I couldn't move them. I just stared straight ahead, listening; it seemed to be all I could manage at the time. I also learned from their conversation that the older woman, Nurse Martha, the night duty nurse, had been coming in several times a night to massage my penis, edging me over and over. She was telling Rosie (the nurse's aide), that it was the best part of her job, playing with the dicks, at least, the ones that still worked. I gathered it was Rosie's first time to engage in Martha's little game. She reached out and joined in, massaging my balls with both hands. 

Martha spoke up, "Nice size, for a white man, don't you think?"

"I thought it would be bigger than this."

Martha continued in her rhythm without speaking.

Rosie continued, "It's so thin, makes it look longer than it really is. It's kinda cute."

"One of my favorites. I been in here twice already tonight."

As I lay there in a daze, edging over and over, I realized they were talking about my dick. In its flaccid state, my cock is about six inches long. Erect, it gains at most three quarters of an inch in length, and not much girth, so I guess it is a long, skinny erection. A little extra circumference would be nice, but I'm not complaining; it fits into the average female mouth without much strain on the jaw. Because my flaccid dick is as long as most guys' erections, it seems to attract attention. 

Pre-cum was flowing freely as Rosie observed, "If he don't cum pretty soon, these balls gonna pop I swear!" 

They laughed softly. God I wanted to cum so badly, but I didn't want them to stop, so I just lay there, eyes half closed, watching but pretending not to watch. Pretty soon they stopped and began to clean up. 

"No," I cried out, "don't stop now!" They did not react at all to my outburst. I realized I hadn't spoken at all, except in my own mind. 

"Ain't you gonna finish him?" asked Rosie.

"I don't ever finish any of my patients. Who needs all that messy spunk all over everything? If you want to play with my patients, I just got two rules: don't get caught, and don't make 'em cum."

"Why you care if I make somebody cum? I like to see 'em shoot. I'll clean it up."

"Just don't," Martha said in a harsh tone. I got the feeling Martha might have had some issues with men, and was taking it out on the patients. Whatever her reasons, she certainly had perfected her technique.

"Do you ever touch a man while he's awake?" Rose asked.

"Course I do, but never at work. That'll get you fired," Martha answered. "It's better this way. Like this one here, he'd be crying and begging right now. I don't want to have to listen to all that whining. Or be making demands, and I don't take that shit off nobody."

They arranged my gown and bedsheet as it should be, and quietly left. I lay there with my erection and aching balls for who knows how long, needing so badly to cum, before I finally drifted back to sleep. Those were (and still are) my earliest memories. Everything prior is a complete blank. To the best of my recollection, I'd literally spent my entire life on the edge of orgasm, without ever going over.

Chapter 2

The next thing I remember was waking up as my hospital gown was being peeled off my upper body. Once again, I opened my eyes but remained silent. It was a trim young woman, chattering away about nothing in particular, although I did hear her mention "sponge bath." I realized I could read her name tag, "Amy," I don't recall her last name. Young, maybe mid-20's, red hair, pouty lips, a cute nose and the greenest eyes, with long eyelashes.

She started washing my upper body, working her way down to my waist. An orderly entered, a strong young man, to help maneuver me around so she could wash my back. Apparently my right hip was pretty messed up, so they had to be careful about it. The orderly made a wise crack about my butt crack. She laughed in response and washed my anus in an exaggerated way, which involved a couple fingers getting up in there, which got a pretty good laugh from him. At that point, my dick started to stiffen.

The orderly left after helping Amy reposition my body and replace the gown over my shoulders. I noticed that she was careful to reattach the restraints on my arms before continuing. She washed my feet and then moved to my upper thighs, since both legs were in casts from ankle to thigh. She had to lift my gown, exposing my genitals. It was all I could do to stifle a gasp when she washed my balls, handling them very gingerly, as if they were eggs. When she started to reach for my erect penis, I finally found my voice. Ever since I could remember (it was only about 12 hours, after all), I'd had an ache in my balls from weeks of being denied, and it was growing stronger every second. 

I moaned and uttered something like, "Oh yes please." Not having spoken in weeks, I was a little hoarse.

The poor girl nearly jumped out of her skin. Her face turned red with embarrassment as she stuttered and stammered. I was so close! It was a huge let down. But, aided by the meds they were pumping into me, I managed to maintain a façade of innocence, as if I'd awakened from a dream. 

I gave the pretty young lady a confused look and said, "I'm sorry, did I startle you?" 

She recovered pretty well, considering the shock of hearing me speak after all those weeks. She assumed a professional attitude, completely ignoring my nudity. 

"Oh no, sorry I was just surprised. Doctor West wants to be notified soon as you wake up. Excuse me a minute, I'll get your nurse, she'll want to call the Doctor." In spite of her professional manner, Amy was obviously a bit flustered. She walked out quickly, leaving me uncovered (and erect), without closing the door. 

The wing I was in wasn't very busy at the moment, and of those who passed by, few looked in. However, many of those who did look did a double-take. It was mostly hospital staff, so they would be accustomed to nudity, but a patient lying there with an erection was obviously a bit out of the ordinary. 

A visiting family strolled by, looking for a particular room, and all of them glanced in, slowed considerably and did a double take. Dad managed to pass without otherwise reacting, but a big smile appeared on the mom's face, and their two teenaged daughters peered in, eyes wide. I could hear them giggling and whispering as they continued down the hall. I figured they were about my age, and not bad looking, either one of them. 

A few minutes later, I noticed the girls walking slowly past in the other direction, heads together, looking at a cell phone; probably tweeting or whatever. They slowly passed my door without looking in, then stopped and casually backtracked a few steps, probably just loitering, having tired of visiting sick relatives and looking for some other distraction. I closed my eyes partially, so they wouldn't know I was watching. It was pretty obvious they were looking at and discussing my dick, although they tried to be discrete. With my arms restrained and legs immobilized, there was nothing I could do about it. It was an embarrassing situation, but I found the whole thing incredibly erotic. I was so damn aroused to start with, I was sure their attention would push me over the edge. I thought I was going to ejaculate without being touched, and might have done so, had it not been for the distraction of several people rushing into my room.

There was a male doctor accompanied by 4 females in scrubs: nurses, aides, or technicians, I couldn't identify them all. Amy entered close behind. I could tell they were excited; apparently my awakening was a really big deal around there. There was a flurry of activity, as the medical team was focused on the instruments, gauges and monitors to which I was connected. For the most part, the group was very professional, trying not to notice, or at least pretending not to notice my state of arousal. Amy was just staring at my cock; as a result of which, my full attention was soon consumed by the ache in my balls, and my cock showed no signs of softening. When she noticed me observing her, her face turned a deep shade of red and she looked away, but only for few seconds.

Dr. West started asking questions, but I could not tell him my name, address, phone number, or anything else about myself. He explained that I'd been in an accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury; I'd been out for 10 weeks. He asked me to describe the last thing I remembered. I actually considered telling him about Martha's hand jobs, but thought better of it. 

"I can't remember anything before waking up in this hospital room during my bath," I replied. That brought my situation, being uncovered and aroused in a room full of people, to the doctor's attention. 

He seemed to want to help, but his solution was to tell Amy, "Why don't you go ahead and finish while we talk." Doctors, especially surgeons, see things differently from the rest of us.

Amy blushed a little; well, she blushed a lot, realizing that the only thing left to wash was my cock. She hesitated for a moment; it seemed that everyone had paused to see what she would do. Dr. West was the type who always spoke with authority; he was clearly not someone whose orders you would question. I could tell Amy was feeling the pressure. 

To her credit, she took a deep breath, regained her composure, answering calmly, "yes, sir," and moved in to complete her task. Dr. West resumed asking questions, not noticing the lack of activity in the room, as everyone watched Amy approach the bed. 

If I was excited before about having my cock washed by this pretty young thing, the thought of having it done in front of an audience took it to a whole new level. I just knew I was going to cum, and there would be lots of it, and lots of people on hand to see it happen. Oh, I wanted this so bad. I knew the Doctor was talking to me, but all I could hear was the ache in my balls and the ringing in my ears. It took some effort to maintain a calm exterior, but with the help of IV pain meds coming on board, I managed. 

I have vivid memories of this moment; it plays in my head in slow motion. I've had full-blown orgasms that were less intense than the mere anticipation of what was about to happen. I knew the slightest touch would be enough. I was completely immobilized, there was a crowd of women gathered around, and my cock was rock hard! And soon to be in the grasp of a pretty girl! All eyes (apart from the doctor's) were on Amy's hand and my cock as she reached out towards it. I remember bracing myself for the explosion. 

But her hand never reached its target. Something happened - an alarm went off. My memory of the event from that point forward is pretty much a blur of movement and voices, and those hospital machine noises. My physiological response was completely normal given the circumstances, but no one else in the room considered my perspective. While I was having the most intense sexual experience imaginable, they were just treating another patient with multiple injuries, recently awakened from a coma. 

So naturally they jumped into action when my heart rate suddenly accelerated, along with whatever else the machines were screaming about. As they pushed some kind of medication into the IV, the room started spinning, and I fell into a deep sleep, accompanied only by the all-too familiar ache in my swollen testicles. 

I didn't wake up again until the next morning, when Dr. Campbell, the orthopedic surgeon came in for his rounds. I had multiple fractures in both legs, and my right hip sustained injuries that required surgery, which Dr. Campbell said was successful. Both my hands were basically crushed; he had operated twice on each, and determined no further surgery would be required. He expected I would make a full recovery, at least from a physical standpoint. 

He wouldn't comment on the amnesia; "those questions are for your neurosurgeon, Dr. West." He offered to answer any other questions before leaving, but I would need some time to digest what he had said. "I've discussed all this your mother," he said, "she might be able to help you understand." That was the first I'd learned about the existence of a mother.

Dr. West came in not long after Dr. Campbell left. Picking up where we left off the day before, he informed me that he had operated to relieve pressure on my frontal cortex. He expected my speech, hearing and other senses, and motor functions would be largely unaffected, but that the severity and duration of the amnesia could not be predicted. I may or may not recover some or all of my history. Although I lost access to "event memory," I'll probably retain much of what I've already learned. I may suffer learning disabilities and my personality might be altered. It would take months, maybe years for all the effects to become fully known. 

The doctor told me that I'm "one of the lucky ones. Dying is not the worst thing that can happen to you in a motorcycle accident." 

"Motorcycle accident?" I said. "I must be a biker. What happened to my tattoos?" I laughed out loud at my own little joke, but Dr. West was not amused - no sense of humor. 

"It's best for you to discuss those aspects of your condition with Dr. Levinson. She'll be coming in for a psychological evaluation." 

Sessions with Dr. Levinson started that same day. She gave me the details about the accident. It seems I accepted a ride on the back of a friend's motorcycle, which friend was under the influence of one or more illegal substances. They estimated our speed in excess of 100 miles per hour, when he laid it down to avoid a mini-van, which we hit anyway. My blood tests indicated a fairly healthy blood alcohol level, which was of course illegal for a person of my age in my state, which turned out to be California. Had I not worn a helmet, I would probably be dead, or best case, still comatose. The motorcycle friend, whose name I have forgotten, along with his face and everything else about him, didn't survive. Sad I know, but it's not like I knew him. I asked whether the bike was repairable, but didn't get an answer. Apparently that was "in bad taste." 

Funny thing, for the entire duration of our session, the one thought running through my mind was "How can I get a hand job from this woman." She wasn't pretty or young, or even the least bit attractive; that's how desperate I was to feel some skin on my penis. I started planning to flash her at the first opportunity; luckily, better judgement prevailed. The thought occurred to me that I was obsessed with sex, and I resolved to avoid disclosing that to any of my doctors or therapists. I didn't know whether that obsession existed before the accident, but I liked it and didn't want them messing with it.

Dr. Levinson also filled me in on my identity and family details. I learned that my name is Stephen Wood, and I was an 18-year-old high school senior. I lived with my mom, Virginia and two sisters: 19-year-old Morgan, and Michelle, who was 18 and a junior at my school. Michelle was a grade behind because she lost a year to a serious illness at age 7. Morgan attended community college while living at home. 

Dear old Dad, it turns out, was long dead: boating accident when I was eight. He was missing for 2 weeks before a dog walker found his body. Why the doctor thought I needed those details is beyond me; she seemed to think I should be sad, having just learned of my father's demise, but I had no idea who he even was. 

I was much more curious about Michelle and I being the same age. Was I a twin? Or was she my step-sister? It's slightly more complicated: my original Mom died when I was 4 years old. Dad married Virginia about a year later, and the girls became my step-sisters. But, there being no ex-wife in the picture, Virginia adopted me about the time I turned six. As far as the state of California was concerned, she was my actual mom and the girls were my actual sisters. I couldn't help thinking of the possibilities; there could be no incest in my mind, regardless of what California thinks. That attitude pretty much confirmed my self-diagnosis of an obsession with sex. 


Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 02



Chapter 9

The morning of the day I checked out of the hospital, I was surprised to see Amy come in and start preparing for a sponge bath. I'd been showering on my own for the last two days, but I didn't question her at all. The procedure was a little different this time. Instead of covering the parts she wasn't actively working on, she stripped me down completely. This would be the first and last time she saw me without any casts. I had lost quite a lot of muscle mass all over, so I was pretty scrawny, but she didn't care about that. In fact, she skipped my upper body altogether and then skipped my legs, too. I had happily cum in her presence many times during my stay, but in accordance with our agreement, we never reacted to it at all, never acknowledging any pleasure derived from the act. 

But this time, this was different. She didn't put the latex gloves on. And she was using body lotion, not soap. There was no point in pretending that this was going to be anything like a sponge bath; it was a very erotic hand job session, plain and simple. She took her time, massaging my balls before moving on to my dick, and that first touch, it was electric. She started stroking slowly, gradually speeding up until it was time. I cried out as the first shot of hot come burst from my cock, straight up. Almost hit the ceiling. That first load landed right at the top of her forehead, getting just a little in her hair, quite a bit on her face from forehead to chin, and a pretty good puddle ended up on the front of her shirt. It was the first and last time for me to cum on her body. She kept milking as I came, getting every last drop; it was the first and last time for that, too. I looked into those beautiful green eyes for the last time, and thanked her profusely. She just smiled and said good-bye as she walked out the door.

Getting dressed was a bit of a chore. Mom had provided a warm-up suit of a light-weight polyester, light gray in color, t-shirt, socks & sneakers, and white briefs. I had Wanda and another female aide helping me get dressed. I was really enjoying the attention. I had learned from my hospital experience just how hot it is to be a naked man in a room full of clothed women. I actually didn't know it was a recognized fetish until later. I had already decided to go commando if I could get away with it. I feigned trouble with the briefs, complained of hip pain as they were being pulled up. Wanda suggested leaving them off, as the warm-up pants had looser elastic and a draw string, and so could be pulled up without putting pressure on my hip. "Excellent!" I thought. 

I caught sight of myself in the mirror; I had a bit of a stiffy from the incidental contact of getting dressed, and there was no hiding it. Even though the pants were loose fitting and hung down in folds, you could easily make out the outline of the head of my cock. When I reached a flaccid state, I found that if I stood still, it was possible for a person to not notice, but any movement causing my dick to swing about gave it away. I didn't even want to consider what an erection would look like in those pants. I began to understand that any time I didn't wear underwear, in any kind of trousers, I wouldn't be able to hide my dick completely. That thought brought on a warm feeling, as I considered the possibilities, and my dick started to rise. It looked positively obscene as I stood there watching. I had the impulse to quickly sit down, to hide it from the ladies; then I realized, "I'm checking out of here; I'm not likely to see them again, what the hell." That thought added more fuel to the fire. The fabric was too lightweight and loose fitting to contain my erection, so as my cock rose it began to stick straight out lifting my pant leg several inches. 

"Oh my goodness," said Wanda with a big smile, "You don't want your mom to see you like that." I tried to act embarrassed, trying to hide my erection with my hands. The ladies just laughed, and Wanda said, "Stephen, you should know by now you can't cover that thing with your hands." I just said, "Oh" and stood there with a concerned look on my face, trying to fool them into thinking they had embarrassed me. It worked. They fell all over themselves apologizing for their insensitivity, giving me hugs and trying to be supportive and make me feel less self-conscious. 

Wanda spent a few minutes fiddling with the front of my pants, trying to make them hang straight. Without hesitation, she pulled waistband away from my body, causing my hard dick to slap against my stomach; she tried to reposition it to achieve a more modest appearance, but in the end she left it sticking straight up against my belly with the head poking out above the waistband. She stopped, stood back and took a good look. "What do you think?" she asked the aide, "at least the front of his pants are hanging straight." The aide didn't answer; instead she just stared, open-mouthed. I guess, even though nudity was a common part of her job, she was not accustomed to seeing hospital staff manipulating an erect penis, and joking about it in the presence of its owner.

I was dressed and sitting in the wheelchair when Mom and my sisters arrived. The doctors came around, one at a time, with discharge instructions, and then we were free to leave. Down the elevator to the lobby and out the door. Felt nice to be outdoors, finally.

Mom brought the car around, a very nice luxury SUV. "Impressive," I thought, "can't wait to see my own wheels." I was helped into the back seat, sitting next to Michelle, with Mom and Michelle in the front. Conversation was light and trivial, but Michelle was wearing shorts, very short spandex shorts, and I was really distracted by the sight of those beautiful legs in the seat next to me. The way she was seated, kind of turned toward me with one knee on the seat folded back under, her shorts rode up all the way to her crotch. At least, it seemed that way to me. I could just make out a little bit of pubic hair peaking out, and thought if she fidgeted a little, her pussy might even make an appearance. It took a lot of effort not to stare, as I didn't want to creep her out or anything, and I think I may have succeeded. I did get about half-hard several times during the hour-long drive (in heavy traffic), and I'm pretty sure Michelle noticed. Thinking back, it should have been obvious that she wanted me to look at her, and knew the effect it was having on me.

We were driving through a v-e-r-y nice neighborhood in the LA suburbs, when Mom pulled into the driveway of a big 2-story house. There were several cars in the driveway, and a few parked at the curb. "Okay, now I need to warn you," Mom said as she turned to face me, "Some of the relatives are here to welcome you home. My sisters, your aunts Peggy, Elizabeth, and Denise, and Peg's kids, your cousins Terry and Pat. They know about your memory condition. Please do try to remember everyone here loves you, so you don't have to be embarrassed about anything." "Ok, Mom, I'll do my best." I was only a little bit nervous.

Chapter 10

With a little help from my sisters, I negotiated the front walk, and entered into a beautiful foyer with a tall ceiling, a living room to one side and dining room to the other, a staircase and a hallway leading to a den and the rest of the ground floor. I was really impressed. I was even more impressed by the flow of women coming from the den towards me, arms outstretched. I counted five - five women. So Terry and Pat were females as well. Aunt Peggy and Aunt Liz were both older than Mom, but remarkably well-preserved, and wow! What a rack on Liz. And she wasn't stingy with her cleavage. Aunt Denise had been a surprise baby; at 27, she was 14 years younger than my Mom. The cousins were both in their early 20's and pretty enough. 

But Denise, she was a real beauty, perfectly proportioned, beautiful skin, beautiful dark hair with just the right amount of curl. She was not like the rest of the family. Her eyes were a bit heavy on the make-up, I noticed, and her clothes were quite revealing; black tank top, no bra, and short-short cut-off jeans. Pierced eyebrow and tongue, and a couple tattoos that I could see. Her breasts were so very firm, with a hint of nipple pushing against the fabric. She looked like a real party girl. She was also the only one I noticed checking out my dick as it was swinging against the fabric of my pants.

I stood there for four nice, tight hugs from women I'd never met before, then Denise stepped up. This gorgeous creature, my Aunt Denise approached slowly, very tenderly put her arms around my neck and pressed her body fully against mine. I guess it wasn't too suggestive to onlookers, because nobody else showed any kind of reaction. Her left knee found its way to my crotch, and there is no doubt she was feeling me up with her thigh. I noticed a sharp intake of breath against my neck at the moment of contact; she seemed pleased at what she encountered there. Luckily the rest of the family was on her right side, so no one else noticed. She lingered, her body pressed against mine in a way that felt very sexy for me, but maybe I was mistaken, as no one else seemed to notice. 

Aunt Liz spoke up, "it was Denise who first got word of your accident, and actually made it to the scene before you got on the ambulance. There was so much blood, you were such a mess, she thought you were dead." That's how the others understood the tender, prolonged embrace. My perspective, however, was slightly different. She was still holding me close when I felt her left hand slide down my back. No one else was in a position to observe her hand slide under the waistband of my warm-up pants, and gently squeeze my butt cheek. We were swaying slightly, and the pressure of her thigh against my cock, combined with her hand on my ass and her lovely breasts pressed tight against my body, was starting to have an effect. I wasn't quite ready to expose my hard cock to the rest of my family, so I slumped, and complained of fatigue and pain. Terry stepped up, and along with Denise, helped me into the den, settling on a plush sofa.

Mom and the aunts went into the kitchen to prepare lunch, leaving me with my sisters and cousins, none of whom I really knew very well. Terry was still sitting beside me, close, with her arm around my shoulders and body pressed up against mine. At 24, she was the younger of the two cousins, short hair, slender, petite, with a twinkle in her eye and a quick smile, a lively sort of girl. Pat was 27, taller than average, with a little extra padding, and more reserved than her little sister. They would be returning home to San Francisco on a late flight that night. Denise lived a couple hour's drive up the coast and planned to leave right after lunch.

Michelle came over to sit at my left side, equally close. The girls started filling me in on life in the Wood household. At first a lot of talk about schools and athletics, boyfriends and other trivia. I mostly kept quiet, asking a question here and there. Then they started talking about Virginia and her sisters.

"Don't worry about Denise," said Pat, "She's the baby of the family; her sisters had already left the house when she was growing up, so she's a little different." 

"You can say that again," I replied, "Do any of the others have body art?" They all spoke up at once to assure me that was not the case. 

Morgan added, "at least, not that any of us has been able to find." 

Terry said, "You may have noticed, Denise is more the 'touchy-feely' type than the rest of us." 

"I did notice that," I said. 

Pat spoke up, "Except for Aunt Virginia. She's a lot like that, too." 

"And your sister, Michelle," Morgan added with a laugh. 

Michelle put her arms around me and said, "Hey don't make fun of me!" 

"Since Denise is only 10 years older than us and single, she was always the hippest aunt, and most fun to hang out with. She babysat us lots of times; we're all closer to her than the others," Morgan said. That explained a lot.

"I didn't notice anything extra touchy-feely about Mom," I said, "and what about me?" The girls all looked around at each other, like they had a secret or something. 

Finally Morgan spoke, "We really shouldn't tell you this, but Mom's therapist told her to scale it back, like, a lot, until we figured out how your head injury would affect your personality." 

"And as for you," Michelle said, "you're really shy, a little too shy if you ask me." 

"That's funny, I don't feel very shy," I said. At that point, lunch was declared ready, so we all moved into the kitchen.

Chapter 11

As a serious traumatic brain injury patient, I wouldn't be cleared to drive for a couple months, so I was pretty much confined to the property except when I could get a lift somewhere. But the property was pretty awesome. The house was spacious and well-appointed. My bedroom opened onto a hallway upstairs, with Morgan's door across the hall and further down. My room also had a door to the upstairs bathroom, as did Michelle's room, on the other side of the bathroom. The bathroom had a doorway leading into the hall, in addition to the bedroom doors. It was a large bathroom, plenty of good lighting, double lavatory, and a separate tub and shower. The shower was larger than most, and enclosed in glass. Perfect. The upstairs landing opened out into a large den/playroom, equipped with theater-style seating along the wall, a plush sectional sofa in the corner, and the biggest flat screen TV you've ever seen. And a pool table. The master suite was downstairs, as was the guest bedroom. There was a large back yard surrounded by a privacy fence, with a good-sized pool and pool-house. I had cable television and high-speed internet in my room. I wondered if I had appreciated all this before the accident. 

I knew I needed to take advantage of Mom's "touchy-feely" side, so that first evening, I found her in the kitchen, walked over, put my arms around her and kissed her cheek tenderly. "Mom," I said, "I don't know if I ever told you this before, but you are really the greatest." I gushed on with appreciation, and love, and all that mushy stuff. Her eyes got all teary as she put her arms around my neck; she started talking about how happy she was to have me home, and went on and on and on, the way women do. I hadn't noticed until that moment, but she had changed into a night gown that was fairly flimsy, and her breasts felt so good against my body. I had to fight the urge to grind my pelvis into hers. We hugged for a long time, and at the end, I straightened up, lifting her off the ground, forcing her body against mine. I was a little bit stiff, but I don't think she noticed. It was too soon yet for anything really sexual. I was just laying the ground work. After that, I began coming to find her every night for a hug before turning in. She really ate that shit up.

My second day at home, I'd just taken a shower and was standing naked at the sink, shaving, when Michelle's door opened and she walked in. I have to admit, she looked pretty damn good in just an oversized t-shirt, with her hair all mussed up from sleeping. 

When she realized I was naked, she started to back out, apologizing, "sorry, the door was unlocked." At that point she just froze, eyes locked on my dick. She stood there like that for maybe 30 seconds, finally coming to her senses, saying, "So, you're just going to walk around naked now?" 

I answered, "Haven't I always?" I figured the answer was probably "no," but thought I'd give it a try anyway. 

I saw her lips start to form the word "no," but instead she just shrugged and muttered something like, "yeah, sure, whatever. But I'm not going to, so you need to get out of here while I take a shower." 

"No problem," I said, "I'll be done here in just a sec." She waited, and watched. Every time I glanced at her reflection in the mirror, I could tell her eyes were focused on my groin. For effect, I leaned forward, as if needing to get a closer look in the mirror, plopping my cock and balls on the counter top. I heard her give a little laugh, and turned my head to see that she was amused by what I'd done. 

She looked up suddenly, as if she'd been caught at something naughty, but I just smiled at her like everything was normal, and said, "There we go, it's all yours." 

She smiled back, "thanks, brother."

"Nice work," I told myself, only two days and already I had cleared the way to walk around naked in front of Michelle. Back in my room I started stroking lazily, remembering the look on Michelle's face when she saw my dick. I figured it was probably her first glimpse of it since we were very small children. 

I brought myself off easily, then set about getting dressed. Looking at my wardrobe, I could tell why they said I was shy before the accident. I owned only the most baggy pants ever made. All heavy fabrics, and even the shorts were all extra long; and nothing but tighty-whiteys in the underwear drawer. Clearly I had some shopping to do.

Mom had an exercise room next to her bedroom, and I'd be working out there, with an in-home physical therapist. She also hired a personal trainer for me, and put in a full set of weights. Physical therapy was three days a week and started the second day. 

The therapist, Debbie, was older, maybe close to 50, and thin as a rail, like she had no body fat at all. She did some yoga instructing on the side, so she was pretty damn flexible. Not bad looking, all things considered, but I never saw her wearing makeup. Debbie worked me pretty hard, but I was motivated. We alternated days working in the pool, and working indoors. 

The personal trainer, Jocelyn, was something else. A dark-haired, dark-eyed Latina with a thin waist and big boobs. Beautiful and strong, I got hot just looking at her. She came in twice a week, so every morning I was working either with Debbie or Jocelyn.

During my first session with Jocelyn she noticed my cock bulging, trying to break free of the briefs; not even the loose-fitting shorts could conceal it completely. She was nice, we were getting along great until that point. She eyed my crotch with disdain, or disapproval, and her demeanor changed. Instead of encouragement, she began barking orders, and looking on with disgust if I couldn't complete the tasks she set for me. I have to admit, I found it a bit arousing. I don't know what her deal was; as long as she couldn't tell I was the least bit aroused, she was nice; as soon as she noticed any sign of growth between my legs, she became Mean Jocelyn. 

Being summer, Mom was up and gone before any of us were awake. The scene between Michelle and I on that second morning was repeated the next day. She came in and we talked as she watched me shave. Occasionally, my cock would start to rise, but I managed to maintain my composure, even when it became fully erect. I was determined to keep her from suspecting that I had any kind of sexual motive at all. By the fourth day, she had stopped pretending that she wasn't watching my dick while we talked, and just stared openly.

One morning later that first week, after I'd finished shaving I turned and walked into my room mid-sentence, talking through the open door. It worked! She followed and sat down in my computer chair, eyes at crotch level, while I leaned against the dresser and continued our conversation. Watching her look at my dick so casually was such a turn-on, I kept rising to a full erection, then dropping back to half-staff whenever I had to concentrate on the conversation. I began to think about taking it in hand, and jerking off for her. But I wanted the timing to be right; I wasn't ready to confess my sexual interest in her, not until I was sure I had a green light.

I began stripping off any time I was in my room, just in case Michelle came in. She did come in, too, and we talked about a lot of things; boys, girls, school; we got pretty close. I even mentioned it one day, how I felt really close to her, and asked if it was like that before the accident. 




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 02



"Damn," she said, "you really did get over being shy. No, you never would have said anything like that before." Then she echoed pretty much the same sentiment back to me.

Morgan's schedule was unpredictable. She was transferring to UCLA in the fall on an athletic scholarship, and had begun summer workout sessions with the women's volleyball team. Sometimes she was gone when we got up; other days she slept until noon. I'd been home about a week and a half, and was hanging in my room, naked as usual, when I thought of something I needed in the upstairs playroom. Without bothering to get dressed, I walked down the hall, found what I was looking for, and started back to my room when Morgan stepped out into the hallway, dressed to go out for the day, and started towards me. 

"Morning Morgan," I said. 

"Hey little brother," she replied as we passed each other in the hall. She hadn't even bothered to acknowledge my state of undress. Before I reached my room she called back down the hall, "Hey Stevie," nobody else called me Stevie and I wasn't particularly fond of it. 

I stopped and turned back to face her, "Yeah?" 

"I guess I can't call you LITTLE brother anymore," she said with a laugh, as she started down the stairs. I decided to try staying naked as much as possible.

That same afternoon I was sprawled naked in one of the theatre chairs watching a movie when Morgan and Michele came walking up the stairs together. I felt a rush of excitement, and felt a strong impulse to cut and run, or at least cover myself. But I managed to project a calm exterior, forcing myself not to move. I even felt a sexual charge from the effort of maintaining my position in that situation.

As the girls walked towards me, Morgan said, "Oh my god, are you just going to sit out here naked?"

"I can get dressed if you want," I replied nonchalantly.

"Nah, don't bother on my account." she said as she took the seat next to me. I noticed she was studying my dick pretty closely. "That turned out pretty nice. Last time we saw it..." she held up her little finger as if to indicate size. It was pretty funny.

"Hey shoot some pool with me," said Michelle. I agreed, and got up to select a cue stick. 

Morgan's eyes were still on my dick, and that alone was enough to make it begin to stiffen. As it slowly rose, Morgan asked, "Hey why are you getting hard? We're your sisters for goodness sakes!"

"I can't help it. It doesn't mean anything. Can you guys keep a secret?" I asked. They both agreed quickly. I didn't really expect they would keep it a secret, but didn't really care. "You can't tell anybody about this. All it takes to get me hard, is for a chick to look at it. Any chick, regardless of whether I'm attracted to her or not. It doesn't mean I want to have sex with her, it just makes me get hard. That doesn't make me a perv or anything, does it?" It didn't matter to me whether it did or not, but I wanted them to think it mattered.

Morgan smiled, a sort of devious smile, and said, "Yeah, there's even a word for it, they cover it in Psych 101. You're an exhibitionist. So yeah, technically, you are officially a pervert." So my sister said I was a pervert. But at least she said it in a joking way, with a smile on her face. "Aren't you embarrassed?"

"Well, it's a little embarrassing when I get an erection, but I like the way it feels," I replied. This whole situation was getting hotter and hotter, with the conversation itself adding fuel to the fire. I was rock hard by this time. 

"Yep, no question about it, you're an exhibitionist all right."

"You won't say anything to anybody about it, will you?" I asked.

"Ok, I'll keep your secret, but you'll have to owe me a favor."

I tried to hide my excitement at the prospect of being indebted to this tall goddess. "Ummm...ok, sure, I owe you one. Thanks, sis. Michelle, I can count on you, too, can't I?"

"Yeah, but I might want a favor sometime, too."

"Sure, anything".

Morgan spoke up, "You should not be allowed to wear clothes upstairs."

"Yeah, unless we say otherwise," Michelle added.

I wanted to agree immediately, but felt I should hide how happy I was with that rule. "Wait a sec...is that the favor you're asking for, to keep my secret?"

"No, you still owe us a favor. But it's such a big secret, I want you to follow a few rules as well."

I stood still, looking from one to the other, with their conspiratorial smiles on their faces.

"Well," said Michelle, "you don't think that's too much to ask, do you?"

I was jumping for joy on the inside, but on the outside I just sighed heavily, as if resigning myself to a lifetime of servitude, and said, "Ok, I can be naked upstairs. You're not going to keep adding rules, are you?" I wanted to plant the idea in her head, just in case she wasn't already headed there.

"No, maybe just one or two more. Rule number 2," said Morgan, "whenever you're in a room, always leave the door open."

I stood there slack-jawed, again, ecstatic on the inside, anxious on the outside. I was getting good at this. "Hey, I have a right to privacy," I stated somewhat forcefully.

"If Mom finds out that you get aroused just from people looking at you...no telling what will happen."

"And," Michelle added, "no complaining about us coming into your room."

"Oh, come on!" I said.

Morgan said, "That's rule number 3, and rule number 4 is no hiding your dick. You have to show it to us any time we ask."

"Any time, any place," Michelle just had to throw her 2 cents in.

"Wait just a second...," I started to object, but Morgan interrupted.

"Nope, we're making the rules," she said. "And if you break the rules, we set the consequences."

"And you have to accept the consequences, or else we'll go to Mom with your little secret," said Michelle. "Think you can remember those?"

"I think so," I replied. "Always naked upstairs, doors open, let you in whenever you want, and show it to you on demand."

"That's a pretty good start," Morgan said.

On the inside, I was doing celebratory cartwheels, while on the outside, I pretended I was facing a fate worse than death. "One thing though: when my friends are here, the rules are suspended. I'd rather face Mom than go naked in front of my friends."

"Agreed."

"Oh, come on," Michelle said playfully, "look at how hard that dick is." She tapped it lightly with her pool cue, causing me to flinch. "You're really enjoying this."

I had no answer for that. Michelle and I played a couple games of eight-ball, which she won by a huge margin, mostly because she kept prodding my balls whenever I had a difficult shot. When I complained, she just said, "we make the rules, remember?" I was reeling from the sexual energy; Morgan really seemed to enjoy that. As for myself, I was so turned on, I would have done literally anything they asked. 

The next morning, Michelle brought up the subject during our regular chat session. "I hope you aren't mad at me for going along with Morgan's rules yesterday. It's okay with me if you don't want to do any of that stuff."

"Mad? At you? Are you kidding? I'm not even mad at Morgan, but don't tell her that."

Later on, I showered after my physical therapy session, as usual, and found Morgan sitting on my bed when I walked naked into my room. 

"Hey what's up?" I asked. My cock started to stiffen under her gaze.

"Just thought I come in and see you," she said with a smirk, obviously more amused by her comment than I was. "Come over here, let me get a good look."

I walked over and stood in front of her, my dick just inches from her face. She watched it rise as it stiffened, until it was pointed up.

She laughed and shook her head, standing up and starting toward the door, saying, "That is so cool. You don't even have to touch it." She reached down and let her fingers slide lightly along its length. Man that felt good. As soon as she was out the door, I started jerking off. Slow at first, gaining speed, thinking about what had just happened. I came with a loud groan, spurting half way across the room. I heard laughter and, when I opened my eyes saw that Morgan had stuck around to watch. She smiled and waved goodbye.

For the next few days. I really got off on shooting pool or watching a movie naked, with my clothed sisters in the room. Occasional, one of the girls would tell me to get dressed because she had friends coming over. Otherwise I shed my clothes at the top of the stairs and was nude all the time. Whenever I got an erection, which was fairly often, Morgan liked to point it out and laugh about it. Whenever she was home, I could count on her to continually give me erections just by staring every time I went soft. I know it was intentional teasing. Michelle laughed right along with us. I was jerking off at least 3 times a day, not counting during my morning shower. Morgan, Michelle, or both watched at least once a day, and that in itself often led to a second orgasm shortly after the first.

Chapter 12

About three weeks into the summer, I was sitting at my computer playing a video game one afternoon when I heard voices in the hall. Female voices, several of them. I had placed two small mirrors near the screen, allowing me to monitor both the bathroom and hallway doors surreptitiously. I kept an eye on the hall, and saw Morgan walk by, followed by three of her friends, probably on her volleyball team, from the way they were dressed in those spandex sports bra tops and tight-fitting short shorts. One of the chicks, a tall slender girl with short red hair, looked in and did a double-take. She lingered for a second, then rushed to catch up. They must have paused at Morgan's door, because I could hear hushed conversation. I could only make out a few words, like "brother - rules - clothes - door," followed by laughter. I stood up and moved toward the door, hoping to make out what Morgan was telling her friends. Suddenly I heard footsteps coming my way. I knew I didn't have time to make it back to the chair, so I picked up a magazine that had been sitting on my dresser - a gaming magazine with some cheat codes - and pretended to be standing there studying it. In my peripheral vision I could see someone leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed; I suspected it was the red-haired girl.

After a few minutes, she coughed. I looked up at her and froze, trying to act like I was too shocked to move.

"Hello," she said. Her eyes were moving up and down, from my face to my dick and back. "I'm Morgan's friend, Allison"

Allison had bright red hair, a very pale complexion and freckles, a lot of freckles. She was tall, taller than me, fit and trim and muscular, but not like a body-builder; more like a sexy female athlete. Those washboard abs were just so awesome. I continued not moving, and said, "I'm Morgan's brother, Stephen."

"Nice to meet you, Stephen. I couldn't help noticing that you're naked." She laughed as I lowered the magazine to block her view of my dick, which had started to rise. "It's okay, Morgan told me about your bet and your rules. I think it's cool."

I didn't say a word, just stood there with my mouth open, panic in my eyes. I dropped my hands to my sides. If Morgan told her the rules, then she knew I wasn't allowed to cover up. My dick was about half-way to horizontal by now. Allison focused on it, watching with an amused expression as it rose to attention, in about 10 seconds. "I hope I didn't embarrass you," she said, "I just wanted to say hello." With that she turned and left.

I sat back down at the computer with my hand on my cock, slowly moving it up and down, remembering my encounter with Allison. Noticing movement in the mirror, I saw Morgan closing the bathroom door. I figured, with Morgan in the bathroom this would be a good time to rub one out. I started to stroke in earnest. I closed my eyes and leaned way back, with my butt on the edge of the seat, hips thrust upwards as I got closer and closer. When I was just about to the point of no return, I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw in my mirror was Allison and her two friends standing at the door to my room, watching. Two of them were covering their mouths with both hands to keep from screaming out in laughter; Allison just had a sly smile on her face. I immediately stopped, leaving my hand where it was, wrapped around my hard cock, while I considered what to do. I knew they couldn't see my dick from where they were standing, although there's no way they could not know what I was doing. I slowly slid my butt back until I was sitting up straight. I remembered there was a bottle of hand lotion and some tissues on the dresser, and decided to use that as an excuse to show them my cock. It took every ounce of my self-control, but I managed to slowly stand and turn around; pretending not to notice the girls in the doorway, I took two steps toward the dresser, reaching out to pick up the items I needed. At that point I pretended to see them standing there, and did the "deer-in-the-headlights" act again. I froze completely.

"Oh," I said, "Hey Allison." I was trying for a normal, calm voice, but I think it might have wavered just a bit. My dick was not just erect, it was big and red, almost purple, on the verge of cumming. These three ladies, in their spandex work-out clothes, were just standing there gawking.

Allison recovered her wits, saying, "Hello Stephen, this is Stacey and Barbara. Stace and Barb, Morgan's little brother Stephen." My mind was completely overloaded - my pretended state of panic was, to a large extent, very real. I felt an impulse to cover myself and jump behind the bed, or into the closet, to hide, but I literally couldn't move. I had never felt so naked and exposed. No, I had felt that way - it was just like my trip to x-ray with Nurse Martha, except this time I had a raging, dripping hard-on, which would have spurted at the slightest touch.

Stacey did something completely unexpected; she stepped right in to the room and held out her hand for a handshake. That threw me off, because now I felt compelled to shake hands with her, it's an automatic response when a person extends a hand. So that's what I did. Stacey had her brunette hair pulled loosely back into a pony tail. She was shorter than the others, and a little curvier, but you could tell she worked out just as much. They were all pretty, but Stacey was by far the prettiest of them all. I looked into her eyes as we clasped hands, but her gaze never wavered from my dick.

"So, tell us why you're hanging out in here naked with your door open," said Barbara, stepping into the room, along with Allison.

I didn't have to fake nervousness; I was so nervous that my cock was starting to soften. "Well," I said softly, "Morgan made some rules for me, and I agreed to go along because of a stupid bet I lost. I can't wear anything while I'm upstairs, and I can't close my bedroom doors."

As I was speaking, Morgan walked in from the bathroom, laughing. "And no covering up," she said. "I see you've met my friends. These are some of my teammates."

Stacey was pretty excited by the situation. She had a big smile on her face. "So, it's okay for us to be in here while you're naked? That is so cool. What was the bet?"

I was going to tell her it was a private matter, but Morgan spoke up, "He bet that I wouldn't make the varsity squad." This drew laughter from all four. If any of them realized the inconsistency, that the bet would have been made before my amnesia, no one said anything about it.

"Can we bring him out into the game room while we talk?" Stacey asked.

"Sure," said Morgan, "Come with us, Stephen." She grabbed one elbow and Stacey grabbed the other. I walked with them down the hall to the game room. The girls sat on the corner sectional, while Morgan directed me to bring a barstool over and set it in front of them, but not too close. I climbed up on my stool and sat there facing them for over an hour. They were talking the whole time, but I don't remember a word they said. God I needed to cum so badly. They all kept looking over at my dick, sometimes just a glance, sometimes a lingering look, but Barbara, it seemed as though her eyes never left my dick. And Stacey kept catching my eye and smiling, this mischievous smile, and winking every now and then. My cock was rock hard most of the time; every few minutes it would start to wilt, but it never dipped below horizontal before it rose back up again. 

Sometimes the girls' conversation paused, their eyes widening as they watched my dick. I looked down during one such pause and saw what was capturing their attention. I had begun to leak pre-cum early in the conversation. Sometimes it was just a drop or two now and then; other times it was a steady flow. What I saw when I looked was an unbroken string of precum from the tip of my dick to the floor. Every once in a while, the string would break. Whenever the flow increased enough to reach the floor again without breaking, the girls paused in mid-sentence and watched, all four of them, fascinated, until it reached the floor. For me, this was the worst kind of teasing, with no touching at all. I was so close to just grabbing it and finishing what I'd started earlier. They must have known the effect they were having on me.

When it was time to leave, they all stood and filed past, giving me a little smile. First Allison, then Barbara, both of whom put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a little squeeze. Stacey, however, as she walked past very slowly, put her hand on my knee and slid it up my thigh, finally wrapping it around my cock, pausing long enough to give it 3 or 4 squeezes and, making sure the others were all facing away, leaned in and stuck her tongue in my ear. I felt the orgasm coming on - I lifted my hips and grunted as the first spasm started. Stacey took her hand away and watched as I spurted two, three times, getting cum all over the leather furniture. My cock kept twitching and spasming as more cum was dribbling out. She laughed, long and loud. As they started down the stairs, I could hear someone ask Stacey what she was laughing about. They were out of earshot, so I don't know if she told them, but I bet she did.

I fell back on to the sofa, breathing heavily. I was still there, recovering, when Morgan came back upstairs. She walked over, smiling, leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "You did very well! I wasn't sure you'd go along. You looked nervous as hell."

"Nervous as hell and twice as horny," I replied.

"Watch out for Stacie, she is gunning for you."

"Huh?"

"She told me, first chance she gets, she's going to suck your dick. It's her thing. Blow jobs. Some guys just once, others it's pretty regular. Don't get attached to her, is all I'm saying."

"Damn! Just like that? She told you that? When is she coming back? Can I have her number?"

Morgan wouldn't give me Stacie's number; she just said, "It'll happen when it happens."

The following Saturday morning, the inevitable happened: I was shaving, with Michelle watching as usual, when Mom walked in looking for me. A look of pure panic came over Michelle's face. 

Luckily, by now I had a lot of practice being naked around women, so I maintained my cool and said without flinching, "Hey Mom, good morning." 

Michelle managed to recover her composure, "Morning Mom."

As Mom entered the bathroom, I noticed out of the corner of my eye a shocked look on her face just for an instant. She was probably concerned about my nudity around Michelle, but since we were just having a normal conversation, she wasn't sure how to react. So she did what any other self-respecting California mom would have done in the circumstances: accept it as normal pending her next therapy session.

"My goodness," she said, eyes on my dick, "There's something I haven't seen in 10 years."

"Seriously?" I said.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 02



"You used to run around naked all the time until you were about eight years old. You've grown a lot since then." "A whole lot," she added softly, as if speaking to herself.

"Did you need something?" I asked?

"Just come on down to breakfast after you get dressed. I just wanted to talk to you about school and stuff." She went back downstairs.

"You looked so nervous," I said to Michelle, "Did you think she was going to be upset?"

"Yeah, I wasn't quite sure how she would take it."

Mom took me with her to a counseling session. I just had to convince the therapist that I knew better than to go around flashing people. Also that I didn't have any kind sexual motives towards my sisters. It wasn't that difficult, after all, we were in California, and plenty of experts were advocating nudity in the home. On the way home, Mom asked me if Michelle and Morgan were walking around the house naked, too. 

I said, "Nah, just me. They already told me they don't care, but they prefer wearing clothes."

"Aren't you embarrassed?"

"Not around my family. It's not like they make fun of me or anything. But if it bothers you, I'll stop."

She thought about it for a few minutes, then said, "You know, my first husband used to walk around naked all the time before we had kids. And your father, too, when the girls weren't home. I guess it's just a guy thing. As long as you're behaving appropriately, I guess it's okay with me. But any hint of funny business, and we'll have to take steps. Deal?"

"You got it," was all I said, but on the inside I was doing my victory dance. I don't know if she intended to give me permission hang out naked downstairs, but I decided to act as though she had. I would need some time to think about how to go about it without causing too much of a shock. That way, even if she hadn't intended to allow nudity downstairs, she might go along with it once the precedent was set.

Chapter 13

One thing I hadn't considered was the effect of all the weight I'd lost on the fit of my clothes, and in particular, swim trunks. I was pretty scrawny before, but after those weeks in the hospital, I was like a scarecrow. As a result, I found myself standing up naked in the shallow end of the pool one morning during a session with Debbie, having swam the length of the pool and back, losing my swim trunks in the process. 

I stood in water knee-deep water and started up the steps towards her, removing my swim goggles and asking, "how'd I do?" 

She was laughing so hard she couldn't speak. That's one thing about Debbie, she had plenty of self-confidence and took everything in stride. She just laughed and pointed at my groin. I looked down and immediately tried to hide my dick behind my hands, pretending to be embarrassed. She finally stopped laughing enough to let me know where my trunks had ended up, near the bottom of the pool in the deep end. 

I started that way, then stopped, looked sideways at her and said jokingly, "You just want to look at my butt, don't you?" 

She laughed and said, "Hey, I got a husband and a son, I've seen it all and don't care one way or the other." So I dropped my hands, then turned and swam to get my trunks. I brought them back to the shallow end, where I stood facing Debbie and put them on. We both got a good laugh out of that. 

"Thanks for making my day," she said. 

"The pleasure is all mine," I replied. I considered whether she was giving me permission to swim naked with her every time, but then I remembered my resolution not to disclose my obsession with sex to any of my therapists.

I'd managed to get Michelle to take me shopping and, among other things, had purchased a few pairs of stretchy knit athletic shorts. Some were fairly conservative, but I managed to get away with a couple of pairs that fit pretty tight, showing the outline of my dick pretty clearly. I decided to have a little fun by wearing them to a session with Jocelyn, of course without underwear. It had the desired effect; I had Mean Jocelyn from the beginning. With her paying so much attention to my crotch, not to mention her increasingly dominant attitude, my cock was swelling almost from the start. The more dominant she became, the harder I got. I was afraid I'd taken it a little too far; she might quit, and might tell my mom why. But my fears were unfounded; with my cock pushing the stretchy knit fabric obscenely out front in a full out hard on, Jocelyn began raising her voice, shouting instructions, pushing me to my limits and beyond. It was really a very good, very productive workout; probably my best to date. In fact, although her attitude did not soften even a little, before she left Jocelyn told me she was pleased with my progress. I wondered, was she unaware of the dynamic going on between us, or was she playing at some kind of game, a decidedly kinky game. I resolved to figure that one out.

Chapter 14

As the summer wore on, all the physical therapy and weight training began to take effect; I realized I was no longer a scrawny little geek. I was getting some muscle tone and definition. Meanwhile, Michelle and Morgan had friends over occasionally, and some of them took notice. Although I didn't remember, I had met many of them. Of course, we didn't know each other very well, as they were either a grade above or a grade below me at school. One morning, it was mid-July, during our little chat, as Michelle was sitting there watching my cock rise and fall, she told me she needed to ask a favor.

"Of course," I told her, "anything you need."

"You know my friend Stephanie? Um...I don't know how to put this..."

"She wants to go out with me?"

"Oh no, nothing like that...she just wants to see your penis."

"What!" I exclaimed. On the inside, I was overjoyed; on the outside I was trying to be a little bit indignant.

"Oh, come on, you know you like showing it off."

"That doesn't mean I want everyone finding that out. Stephanie is a stranger."

"Stephanie's not a stranger," Michelle said, "She's my best friend." Then she did something she'd never done before - she reached out and took the head of my dick between her thumb and forefinger. Not pinching, just grasping. The contact made me gasp a little. "C'mon, do it for me?" She was still wearing her night clothes, which consisted of an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. With the head of my dick still in her left hand, she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt with her right, and stretched it down between her legs, stretching open the neck, giving me a good view of her breasts and more. Her legs were spread and she was leaning forward a little, rubbing her pussy on my computer chair. My erection was instantaneous.

"Aha, I thought so," she said coyly, "You really do want to show her."

She had caught me off-guard, the deer-in-the-headlights act was not an act this time.

"She'll be here this afternoon, just do what you normally do - stay naked, okay? Thanks."

With that, she bounced up, gave me a quick hug with her right arm around my neck, and taking my cock in her left hand, squeezed it a couple times before dancing out of the room. I came in about 2 strokes. After recovering from that orgasm, I remembered to kneel down and lick Michelle's residual moisture from the leather chair - my first taste of pussy. It took four or five strokes for that second orgasm.

I tried to play Call of Duty in my room that afternoon, but couldn't concentrate worth a damn, thinking about showing my dick to Stephanie. I had no recollection of her at all, but it didn't matter; Michelle didn't have any friends that were not basically hot. She hadn't really told me what she had in mind. Were we going to stage an accidental encounter? Or was she just going to march in with Stephanie and say, "Well, there it is, what do you think?" 

I looked at the clock; about 2:15. I was so damn horny I decided to jerk off one more time before they arrived. I was almost to the point of no return when I heard voices in the hallway; one of them was Michelle's, the other I didn't recognize. "What if they just walk in, Michelle does that all time," I thought, and in a panic, jumped off the bed into the computer chair.

The girls passed by and went on to Michelle's room. I was covered in sweat, which gave me an idea. Quickly as possible, I slipped into the bathroom and started the shower, jumping in right away. The cold water was a shock to the system, but my cock relaxed, and the fog in my head cleared somewhat. 

When I finally started getting some hot water, I began to soap up. I saw the door to Michelle's room opening slowly; I turned my back to the door, and immediately grabbed the shampoo and started washing my hair. When I turned around to rinse, I tilted my head back into the water stream, giving the impression that my eyes were closed, but I was peeking. Michelle was covering her mouth with her hands to stifle her laughter. Another girl, I assumed it was Stephanie, was there with a sly smile on her face, her eyes locked on to my dangling dick. 

I turned, putting my back to them and shut off the water. When I turned back around I was alone, but the door to Michelle's room was open just a crack. I knew they were watching me in the mirror, but pretended not to notice. I grabbed a towel and started toward my room, drying my hair. I was dripping water all over the hardwood floor, but I didn't care. I heard footsteps behind me, so I turned around, still drying my hair, hiding the fact that I could see who was there. This time Stephanie was alone. She stood there leaning against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, and waited, with a kind of Mona Lisa smile on her face. I moved the towel from in front of my face and we made eye contact. I froze.

She had the most amazing eyes, a striking light blue-gray color. Almost Siberian Husky blue, but this was no dog. Like most of Michelle's friends, she was an athlete, a soccer player, strong and lean. She had long blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, with a few strands hanging across her face. Why do I find that so appealing? 

"Oh my," she said, almost sarcastically, "sorry, didn't mean to walk in on you like this." She didn't sound sorry. 

Her eyes literally took my breath away. I opened my mouth and sounds came out, but not any actual words, "Uh, oh, geez, ahhh." I made no effort to cover up, and she made no effort to avoid looking at my crotch. Elevator eyes, her gaze alternating between my eyes and my dick. She started talking, like it was a normal conversation.

"We've met, but you will have forgotten; I'm Michelle's friend Stephanie."

"I'm Michelle's brother, Stephen."

"Like I said, we've met."

"How could I have ever forgotten those eyes?" 

"Damn, that accident turned you into a real charmer."

"Oh shit, did I say that out loud?"

She laughed, and nodded toward my crotch, "Um, you might want to, uh..."

I looked down, realized I was naked, and lowered my towel to shield my lower half. This girl really had me rattled - for a moment there I had actually forgotten I was naked. I didn't get even a little bit stiff in front of her.

Later that afternoon, Michelle came in and said, "You really made an impression on Stephanie."

"I was nervous as hell but she really kept her cool."

"What was that comment about her eyes? She said it was really sweet."

"You've seen her eyes."

"So, do you like her? Was that fun for you?"

"Are you kidding, it was a blast! And yeah I like her pretty much. Tell me the truth now, did she really ask to see my dick? 

"Well, I told her how you like to hang out naked, and what a great dick you have, and asked if she wanted to see, and she said okay."

"Seriously? You're pimping me out to your friends?"

"Not ALL of my friends."

"What do you mean not all of them? How many are there?"

"Oh...maybe one or two. And by the way, Stephanie says to tell you not to bother getting dressed when she comes over."

I was in the habit of spending a couple hours in the pool most afternoons, and when I was alone, I liked to swim naked. That day, the day I met Stephanie, I was so turned on that I wanted to do something a little different. I started fantasizing about being out by the pool masturbating with Stephanie watching. In this fantasy, Stacie showed up and, without even saying hello just dropped down and took me into her mouth. That got me so worked up, I decided to wait until I was outside by the pool to jerk off. I always had my swim trunks with me at the pool when I was skinny-dipping, so I could put them on if anybody showed up. It was easy enough to hear a car pull up into the driveway. But on this particular occasion, I was so super-horny I guess my judgement was a little clouded. I just ran down the stairs, hard dick and all, out the door and jumped in the pool. I didn't realize that I was mistaken about Michelle being out for the afternoon. I didn't know it, but she had seen me running through the house naked, and was watching as I swam a couple laps. 

I had lost my erection while swimming, and afterward was reclining on a poolside chaise, leisurely playing with my dick as it hardened again. I closed my eyes and imagined Stephanie watching Stacie's mouth move up and down on my cock. I could have cum at any second, but wanted to draw it out, to get the maximum pleasure. I started moaning, then grunting and thrusting my hips, stroking faster and faster. Just as I reached my climax, I opened my eyes to see Michelle in a g-string bikini standing there watching, with a big smile on her face. I cried out with pleasure as my cock exploded, sending stream after thick stream of hot cum into the air, landing on my hair, my face and lips, and all over my torso. Michelle actually applauded. I looked at her and smiled, and noticed she was using her head and eyes to try and to try and direct my attention across the pool. I looked in that direction, but nobody else was in the yard. I lifted my gaze up to the second floor window next door, and saw old gray-haired Grandma Moody watching with a small pair of binoculars; her jaw had dropped wide open in shock and awe. 

Michelle explained that Grandma Moody, who was about 85 years old, lived next door with her divorced daughter, Ms. Moody, who was nearly 60. Our family referred to the elder Ms. Moody as "Grandma" amongst ourselves, just to differentiate between the two; they were both "Ms. Moody" to their faces. Michelle smiled and waved to Grandma, who immediately disappeared from the window. I was just about scared shitless, but Michelle didn't seem the least bit worried.

"Don't worry about it," she said, "I bet Grandma got such a thrill from that, she won't tell anybody for fear that Mom will make you stop doing it and she'll never get to see it again."

As scared as I was about getting in trouble, that scene struck me as so erotic that my erection did not go away. I jumped up, grabbed Michelle by the elbows and jumped into the pool with her. Even though she is a strong swimmer, better than me probably, the shock of the cold water caught her off guard, and she wrapped her arms and legs around me. Her pussy was pressed up against my testicles, and my hard cock was trapped between our stomachs. The water came up to my shoulders, so I was standing, and as Michelle recovered from the initial shock, instead of releasing, she tightened her legs around me. I was just standing still, but the motion of the water was providing a gentle movement, and the feeling on my cock was really getting me hot. I realized Michelle was tensing and relaxing her thighs just a little, and even though I couldn't feel it through the fabric of her bikini, I knew she was grinding her clit against the base of my cock. I could feel her hot breath; she pressed her open mouth against my neck, the pressure growing as her breathing quickened. I felt her teeth pressing into my skin. I put my hands on her butt checks, so round and firm. She started to move faster, becoming almost frantic; I pressed her tightly against me, grasping her butt firmly, my fingertips almost reaching her anus. It was just enough motion to make me want desperately to cum, although not enough friction to make me cum, but I was totally into Michelle's impending orgasm. I wanted to hear her scream. I think we both realized, at about the same time, that the fabric of her bikini was enough of a barrier to prevent her from reaching orgasm. She pushed away from me, but I held on to her knees. She was stretched out on her back, on the surface of the water, one hand down the front of her bikini frantically rubbing her clit. I was holding her knees against my chest, and she was using her feet pressed against my torso to gain enough leverage to keep her head above water. Her toenails were digging into my cock, nearly causing me to let go, but I was transfixed by the sight of her masturbating right there in front of my face.

When she finally did climax, she screamed, and screamed again on the second wave, and once more as a third wave struck, screams so loud I was sure the neighbors would come running. It was a powerful orgasm, and I was awe-struck by the sheer force of it; I believe it could have been measured on the Richter scale. That moment completely reshaped my perception of the female orgasm forever, and for the rest of my life I have endeavored to be as close as possible to as many as possible.

Michelle and I just stood looking at each other for what seemed like hours, but was probably only about 45 seconds. It seemed neither of us really knew where that event was going to take us. But, I think we both understood that we didn't really have to work that out right then, and went back to swimming and splashing in the pool. I was still horny as hell and stayed hard most of the time, but I was enjoying that feeling of arousal so much that I decided to put off masturbating again until later.

We decided to get out and catch some sun; I had my sunblock there, ready to suggest we rub each other down with it, but Michelle produced a spray can. I teased her about ruining my fun. She eyed my erection and said something like, "Why don't you leave that alone for a while." I thought it was because she really enjoyed seeing me hard, but that was just part of it. I would soon learn that Michelle was harboring fantasies of dominance that she had not yet shared with anyone.

That is how it came to pass that Mom arrived home from work to find us asleep by the pool, Michelle in a g-string that Mom hadn't approved, and me with a substantial erection. I awoke to see her standing over me, studying my cock closely, the way a medical student studies for an anatomy exam. When she realized I was awake and aware of her interest, she surprised me by not being the least bit embarrassed. 

"You really are quite impressive, you know that?" she said. I had no idea how to answer that. Her words woke Michelle with a start, and she immediately jumped up and wrapped a towel around her waist, to cover her exposed butt. But surprisingly, Mom seemed completely indifferent to Michelle's exposure, even though she definitely noticed it. 

"How was work?" I asked, getting up and stretching after my nap. 

"Same as always," she answered, stepping forward and reaching up to kiss my cheek. When she did, my hard cock poked her right in the belly, but instead of moving away, she held her position just a little bit longer than I would have expected. I really enjoyed that contact; the memory of it provided a powerful orgasm later that night. When I came down to dinner, I thought I saw disappointment in Mom's face when she noticed I was wearing clothes. I knew it was just a matter of time before I would be completely naked at home full time.

Chapter 15

At dinner one night during the last week of July, Mom announced that she would be spending the entire month of August in Beijing on business. I had, of course, forgotten that she spent several weeks each year abroad, so it was a surprise to me, but not to my sisters.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 03



Chapter 16

It was late morning when I awoke, around 10:00, on a Tuesday in early August, the morning after Mom left for her business trip abroad and Aunt Denise arrived for an extended stay. I lay there thinking back to the events of the night before; I had stayed up late watching a movie with Denise, but my recollection of the film was hazy at best. I lost track of the plot early on, and in fact couldn't remember any of the actors or even the name of the film. It could have been an after-effect of my brain injury, part of the amnesia that had taken away the first 18 years of my life. 

But the explanation was much simpler; I was distracted. A number of factors contributed to my state of distraction, including the presence of my Aunt Denise, who at age 27 was no doubt still the star of countless wet dreams of boys and men, sitting there on the sofa wrapped in a robe, which had parted to expose her legs. Maybe it was just me, but I would have paid money to sit there and admire those legs, perfect legs, perfect ankles, perfect feet, toenails perfectly painted a dark shade of purple. It was not insignificant that I did not know what she was wearing underneath the robe, and when I let my imagination run, it had only one place to go: the answer had to be "nothing." 

The second contributing factor to my inability to recall anything about the movie, was my own nudity, and Denise's enjoyment of it, and her apparent amusement at my nervousness. With all the recent practice I'd had being naked around women, I thought I would have been much more confident, but the fact is, I'd had the hots for Denise ever since I first laid eyes on her two months prior. I'd actually known her literally my entire life, but as I had utilized a motorcycle and a minivan to erase my memory (which by the way, I do not recommend), she was practically a stranger to me.

So, I found myself sitting naked on the sofa, next to a goddess 10 years my senior, who was also probably naked under the robe, and who had taken a liking to my cock, which erected before the movie started, and did not soften one bit until I had masturbated to an explosive orgasm in my room after the movie had ended. Physical contact between Denise and my cock had been kept to a minimum during the evening, a light touch every now and then. What kept me rock hard for the duration was for the most part mental. She kept looking at it. She wasn't looking at it hungrily, nor suggestively, not particularly sexily (although in my mind, Denise didn't have any look that was not basically sexy); just looking. More or less dividing her attention equally between the TV screen and my dick.

I do love to be teased, even teased and denied, as long there is hope for eventual relief. I consider myself a tease connoisseur, a Subject Matter Expert, if you will. I know what I'm talking about when I say the most enjoyable teasing involves touching; almost constant contact between the hard cock and the cock-teaser's fingers, hands, really any part of her body. 

The other kind of cock-teasing, the kind that utilizes primarily the absence of physical contact, while highly effective, produces significant levels of frustration. That was Denise's game on that particular evening. She might have denied it had she been asked, but I'm convinced she knew what she was doing. She kept looking at my dick, which for me always produced an erection, followed shortly by droplets of pre-cum, turning into a continuous flow of pre-cum. Just by looking, she made me want so desperately to cum. The only reason I didn't take it in hand myself, is because she kept reaching over and touching me. Light touches, sometimes the head of my cock, sometimes along the shaft, sometimes just letting her hand linger on my thigh, as close as you could get to my balls without actually touching them. I know now how naïve it was, but those touches were just enough to give me hope of at least a hand job. It was just enough hope to keep me from jerking myself off on the spot. Oh, but I wanted to, so badly.

I remember what a great orgasm I gave myself afterwards. I'd fallen asleep without cleaning up, which explained the significant amount of dried cum on my torso, chest, even a little bit on my chin. My hand was still wrapped around my cock, which was hard as a rock. I don't know whether I slept with my cock in my hand, but it was feeling pretty good, so I started stroking at a leisurely pace. I could hear sounds coming from the bathroom - Michelle was up, brushing her teeth. In a few minutes she walked through the open door and sat down next to me on the bed, watching me stroke without saying anything. When I started breathing heavy and speeding up a little, that's when she decided she wanted to talk.

"So tell me about last night. You didn't come back up after we sent you to the kitchen. What happened?'' she asked.

I described how Denise had tricked me into staying downstairs naked to watch a movie, and how I was so turned on, but she left me high and dry. Michelle scratched at some of the dried cum with a fingernail, giving me a sly smile and saying, "Well it looks like you managed to deal with it." I laughed with her. She was pleased that Denise was cool with my nudity. She wanted me to come downstairs with her for breakfast, but I needed a shower.

"Okay," she said as she walked out the door, "just remember to come down naked."

I was in the shower jerking off when Morgan came into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She laughed and shook her head, and spoke loudly over the sound of the shower, "Don't you ever leave that thing alone?"

I couldn't answer, because I was in the process of shooting jets of cum onto the glass enclosure. I thought that by now I would have become accustomed to walking around naked and jerking off in front of pretty girls, but honestly, it never ever gets old. It is always, always exciting, arousing, amazing; I hoped it would never end.

Chapter 17

I was still naked when I went downstairs for breakfast; it was the first time I'd sat down naked to a meal. Denise was curious about what we'd been doing during the summer, so we were filling her in. The girls did most of the talking. I thought we'd tell her the same story we used for Morgan's friends, that I'd lost a bet. Instead, they launched into the actual story of what really happened, and the way they told it, it did kind of make me look like a bit of a pervert. They said that I just stood there one day naked in front of Michelle, without trying to cover up. After that I started walking around naked in front of her in our rooms. Then Morgan talked about the day they came upstairs to find me sprawled out naked on the sofa, and how I didn't even try to cover up.

"We went along, because we didn't want to traumatize him or anything," Morgan said. "He had an erection during the whole conversation, and when I asked wasn't he embarrassed, he told us he likes it when we see him naked. It makes him feel good. I learned about this in Psych, I told him his perversion is called exhibitionism."

I broke in, "Morgan! You promised not to tell! I agreed to your rules!"

"I promised not to tell MOM."

"It's true," Michelle said, "We told him we wouldn't tell Mom, if he just followed a few simple rules."

"Tell me about the rules," Denise said.

I answered, "I can't wear clothes upstairs unless they tell me to, can't close any doors, can't cover myself, and have to show it to them whenever they say."

"And here you are naked downstairs," said Denise, "I didn't hear that listed as one of the rules."

"It's because Michelle told me to."

"If Michelle told you to run around the block naked, would you do that?"

I took a couple of minutes to think before answering, "I think so."

That brought laughs from Michelle and Morgan, and a smile from Denise. "I concur with your diagnosis, Morgan," she said. We all got a good laugh from that. Denise continued, "Do you mind if I make a suggestion?" She didn't wait for an answer.

"Stephen, this is for your own good; we know you are a flasher, and if you get caught you'll be put on the sex offender registry for the rest of your life, and you might even have to go to prison. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded hesitantly. I knew I wasn't a flasher, but I couldn't tell if Denise was serious, or just playing some kind of head game. I just knew that if it was a game, I wanted in. And even if it wasn't, I was not capable of denying her anything she asked, especially not while standing there naked in the presence of true beauty three times over. 

"Good. Okay, here's what I recommend. First, for the time that I'm here while Virginia's gone, you are not to wear any clothes at all, any time, upstairs, downstairs, no exceptions, unless I tell you to. Second, in addition to the rules you already have, I want you to do what you are told by myself or your sisters, and I do mean anything, no exceptions. Do you agree, or do you want some time to think about it?"

They all turned to me for my answer. I looked into their eyes; Morgan and Michelle were clearly excited; they looked like children on Christmas Eve. I couldn't imagine what was going through their heads. Denise, on the other hand, appeared confident and in control, like she knew exactly what she was doing. After checking to make sure the girls weren't watching her, she gave me a little smile and slight nod of encouragement. I don't really know why I hesitated; my dick had sprung to attention as soon as Denise started giving instructions. I was downright infatuated with her; I'd have done anything for her. I'd have done almost anything for Michelle, and there's not much I would have refused Morgan, but for Denise, at that moment, she so totally owned me, body and soul.

"Okay," I said.

"Good deal," said Denise, "you made a good choice. Now I have some work to do, but right after lunch, if you're all free, I want to teach you a game, I think you'll really like it."

"What's it called?" asked Michelle. 

"Doesn't really have a name - my friends and I made it up, but we play it all the time, just wait and see."

Denise was an aspiring artist. She had a studio where she did her serious artwork, and had even sold a few pieces, but not enough to make a living. To pay the bills, she worked as a freelance graphic artist, which she could do anywhere with an internet connection. That meant she could spend the whole day at home.

The morning went by pretty quickly; the girls disappeared on some errands or shopping or something, and I spent the morning playing video games. My physical therapy was down to once a month, and we had discontinued the personal training. I would be cleared to drive in a few days, so I would probably join the gym. I was secretly planning to find a way to rehire Jocelyn, but in the meantime, I was taking it easy. I made my own lunch and ate in front of the computer.

Chapter 18

Around 1:00, Michelle came in to tell me we were gathering in the game room with Denise. I didn't waste any time jumping up and following her down the hall. The four of us sat around the game table, and Denise began explaining the game. There was no game board, no dice, no cards, not even pencil and paper. She did have her cell phone on the table, with what looked like a timer or stopwatch app.

"This is a game that some friends and I made up back in college. It's evolved some over the years, but we always have a really good time with it. Usually, we play with 3 or 4 or 5 women and 1 man, but it works just as well with 2 girls or it can be more, depending on the guy. Sometimes we have more than 1 man."

She spoke in a normal, matter-of-fact voice that to me seemed inconsistent with the subject matter.

"There are usually two parts to the game, but sometimes you only do the first part, it depends on the man. In part one, the girls are eliminated, one at a time. If all but one are eliminated, she's the winner and you don't do part two. But if the remaining players all agree, then you move on to part two. In part one, you lose if you make the man cum. In part two, you WIN by making him cum."

At this point, Morgan, Michelle and I all had expressions of disbelief on our faces. Mine probably looked a little more like panic, and theirs' a little more like excitement.

"Here's how it works. On your turn you have 60 seconds. During part one, you're trying to get him so close to cumming that he shoots off while the next girl is touching him. When your turn ends, the next girl has to start within 10 seconds. During part two, your objective is to make him cum. You have to wait at least 15 seconds after the last turn ends before you can begin. That's why it depends on the man. Some guys take a lot more work for the second cum, or the third, or whatever. One more rule: when it's your turn, you have to maintain contact with the dick, skin on skin, and you have to keep it moving. You can do whatever you like with your other hand. Any questions?"

I just sat there staring at her in disbelief. Morgan asked, "Will you show us how to get him close to cumming without making him cum?"

Denise answered, "Sure I will. We can even do a practice round or two if you like."

Michelle asked, in an uncharacteristically timid voice, "Will you show us how to make him cum?"

"Oh, you poor thing, you've never done a hand job. We haven't been spending nearly enough time together - I guess that's my fault. Sure, I'll give you all the help you need."

Morgan had one more question, "You said we can do whatever we want with our other hand. What sorts of things would we do?"

"Good question. I'll tell you some of the things I've seen people do: tickle his balls, squeeze his balls, slap his balls, slap his dick, wet your fingers with...with yourself and stick 'em in his mouth. Use your imagination."

I could not believe what I was hearing. I thought I was going to pass out, it felt like my entire blood supply was headed for my dick. I swear my erection looked noticeably bigger than I remembered it.

"Tell you what," Denise said, "why don't we wait until tonight to play, and I can spend the afternoon teaching you some basic techniques."

At that point, I was aware of some conversation going on, I could hear their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. I doubt anyone in the history of the universe had ever been as aroused as I was at that moment. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear my pulse, my head was covered in sweat, my mouth was dry and hanging open, my eyes must have glazed over, my vision was a little blurry and starting to gray out around the edges. Strangely, it reminded me of something I'd read about the effects of g-forces on fighter pilots, reducing blood supply to the brain.

I heard a loud voice, "Get him some water!"

I felt hands grasping my arms and lifting. The girls walked me over to the sofa and helped me lie down.

"I'm ok," I said, "I just felt a little faint for a minute there."

I heard Morgan laugh and say, "No wonder, all your blood left your brain and ended up in your dick!" 

That drew laughter from Michelle, but Denise was really concerned. I was still classified as a brain injury patient, and required to report any blackouts or dizzy spells to my doctors. The mood darkened; even Morgan started to look worried. They all understood the significance of any neurological symptoms.

I was a little concerned myself. Because I had experienced some very intense and thorough cock-teasing while in the hospital, I was surprised by my body's response to the anticipation of an afternoon of cock-teasing. It took a moment for me to figure out why it happened. In the hospital, even though my cock-teasers were very experienced and extremely talented, I was not even the tiniest bit attracted to them, sexually. Not that there was anything wrong with the nurses - they were just of a body type that did not appeal to me personally. 

In my present situation, I would be in the hands of the very women of my fantasies. Literally in their hands! They were just as anxious to get their hands on my cock as I was to get my cock into their hands. A man could go his entire lifetime and never have an opportunity like this. I had to make it happen - I owed it to every boy who was ever born or would be born. I knew that I needed to exercise some serious self-control, to pull myself together, to convince them that I could proceed.

After a couple minutes I sat up and began to try to explain. It wasn't easy - I knew I couldn't just come right out and say, "I was just overcome by the desire to fuck the three of you," but worried that if I opened my mouth, that's what would come out. I looked down and saw that my erection had never even begun to soften. That would have to be my strategy.

"When I realized what you were talking about doing," I began. There was a momentary pause while I carefully considered my words. "Well, it's just so...you know...damn hot." The three of them were still looking very concerned. I knew how worried they were for my health because none of them took their eyes off my face even for a second to look at my cock, which really never happened.

"Look," I said, looking down at my lap. It occurred to me that it was the first time I'd ever actually told a woman to look at my cock. I laughed out loud at the thought, and continued, "I'm still hard as a rock. There's your proof."

They all looked. God that turns me on so much. Denise was the first to use her hand to confirm my hardness. Morgan and Michelle immediately followed suit. For a moment I had three beautiful hands feeling the firmness of my cock. I just leaned back and smiled ear to ear. How could it get any better? Of course it could get better, but that was before I'd ever put my dick into a vagina. Or a mouth, for that matter. And if I had, I wouldn't have remembered it.

That did the trick. "Okay," said Denise, "let's get started. But, we're going to take it easy on you at first, just to be safe. How do you girls want to start?"

Morgan said, "I want to make him cum, first."

They arranged themselves with Denise on my left, handling my cock with her right hand and Morgan on my right. Michelle had pulled up a chair directly in front of me.

"Okay, since he's already hard and primed, it's pretty basic, if all you're going for is to make him cum. You just wrap your hand around it like this..." She wrapped her hand around it. I leaned my head back. I wanted to watch her hand on my cock, but the sight of all three of them watching it was even better. 

"When there's this much pre-cum, you don't need any other lubricant," she explained. Then she started moving her hand. All the way to the top, then all the way to the bottom. One full stroke, then she stopped and started talking again. 

I was so turned on, breathing so heavily, I had to open my mouth wide to get enough air into my lungs. I knew that if she did nothing else but hold it like that, I would probably cum in a minute or less. She was explaining how, when a boy is as horny as I was right then, that basic stroke would do the trick in no time. "If you want to make it last, go real slow and use a loose grip," she said, demonstrating another very slow, loose stroke. All the way up, and all the way back down. "If you want to make him cum quickly, it takes a tighter grip and faster motion."

I drew it a deep breath, moaned softly, and whispered, "Oh god please don't stop now." Of course, she stopped and pulled her hand away. I exhaled loudly, then drew in another deep breath and held it in.

"Are we hurting him?" asked Morgan.

Denise answered by addressing me, "Stephen?"

I shook my head no, and spoke softly, "it just...feels...so...good..." I exhaled completely, and filled my lungs again.

"He's so close," Denise said, "It won't take much to make him cum right now. Notice how he's twitching, and how his testicles have lifted close to his body. Let's give him a few minutes to recover, then you can do it, Morgan." Then she addressed me, "Tell us how you feel right now, Stephen."




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 03



I couldn't believe she was expecting me to talk at a time like this. My thoughts were racing; how in the hell could I just sit there naked and erect, discussing my impending orgasm with three fully clothed, fully hot women, all of whom were focusing all their attention on my cock. One expert cock-tease and hand-job artist, and two enthusiastic students.

I sat there breathing heavily for a moment, then spoke, with great effort, "I think I might come any second now."

"It's called 'edging,' or being on the edge. But tell us how you feel?"

How do I feel? What the hell did she mean by that? "It feels like...it feels like I'm right in the middle of...of a long orgasm. Like right now, I am a penis and nothing else."

"Whoa," Denise seemed genuinely surprised. "All the times I've asked that question, no one has ever said anything like that before."

I picked up my head and looked at her. She looked back, making eye contact for the first time since the lesson started. "All the times?" I asked incredulously.

"Don't act so surprised," she answered. "Surely you've figured out by now how interested I am in penises and how they affect the men attached to them. It's been my hobby since I was a teenager, but it's sort of become my life's work."

I was surprised by that, as were Morgan and Michelle; none of us really knew how to take it. Finally I spoke up, "That is really...impressive." My breathing had returned to normal. "Are you writing a book or something?"

She seemed to be considering my words. "That's a pretty good idea," she said. "Actually, I've been incorporating my research into a body of artwork. I've never shown it to anyone, or even told anybody about it before. You guys have got to promise me that it won't leave this room. I mean it. Promise." 

Once we had assured her that we took our promises to her seriously, she continued the lesson. "Okay, you see how his breathing has returned to normal? And check out his balls." With that she cupped my balls and kind of rolled them around in her fingers.

Morgan reached over with her right hand and did the same. I think that might have been the first time she'd touched me. I gasped. She released them and drew her and back as if she'd touched a snake. "I'm sorry," she squeaked.

"No no," I said, "It was just so awesome when you did that."

"Testicles are a lot tougher than most women realize," said Denise. "I'll show you what I mean some other time. But right now, what I want you to do, is wrap your hand around Stephen's dick and pump it up and down. Let's see how fast you can make him cum."

Morgan reached over again with her right hand. She had to turn her body slightly, pressing her boobs against my right arm. Her leg was pressed against mine from hip to ankle, and she crossed her right leg over her left at the knee, bringing it to rest across my right leg. She hadn't even touched my dick yet and already I was in some kind of heaven.

As soon as her hand made contact, I moaned softly. She grasped my cock tightly and started stroking slowly. Each time her hand reached my dickhead and started back down, I let out a moan, increasing the intensity each time. Each stroke was a little faster than the one before. I knew it was just a matter of seconds. As I drew closer to the edge, I stopped moaning and instead began to utter the word, "yes" with each stroke, each time a little louder than before.

I could tell from Denise's expression that she was evaluating Morgan's technique. Morgan's face showed that she was concentrating on the feel of my dick in her hand, the changes in thickness, firmness, texture as she moved her hand from top to bottom. When I looked at Michelle, I could see fascination, anticipation, it was obvious she couldn't wait for her turn. I have described Michelle as having bedroom eyes; at that moment, those eyes grabbed my attention and would not let go. 

I was holding back, wishing to prolong the moment, but at last I could hold back no longer. I made some kind of noise, a long, drawn out cry of some kind as the cum boiled up and burst out in a long stream that reached Michelle's forehead and left a streak right down the middle of her face. It was her first physical contact with cum, but surprisingly she did not react at all, other than to lean forward a little more, to get a closer look. Morgan stopped moving her hand, but did not release her grip, and I could tell she was fascinated by the spasms of my cock as I shot 3, maybe 4 more substantial bursts.

When it was over, I put my right arm around Morgan and pulled her close, pressing my lips against her cheek for 3, 4 maybe 5 seconds. She put her head on my shoulder, and kept her grip on my dick, her hand now covered in my cum. Denise put her arm around my shoulders and lifted her head towards mine. I turned to face her, and she kissed me, deeply and aggressively, even more so than before. Michelle just sat there looking at me. We made eye contact and smiled at each other. I didn't know where all this was headed, but I couldn't wait until we got there.

I guess we sat there like that for 5 or 10 minutes before Denise jumped up and said, "Okay, that was pretty good. Let's take a break and then Michelle, you can take a turn."

After a half hour or so, Michelle, Morgan, Denise and I reconvened on the sofa in the upstairs game room. I was, of course, the only one naked. I was already hard as a rock from anticipation. Michelle had cleaned the cum from her face, but hadn't changed out of her cum-stained clothes. Denise seated herself on my left once again, with Michelle to my right this time, and Morgan on the chair in front of me. 

Denise reached over and squeezed my cock. "I just love how fast these things recover at your age. Michelle, he won't come so quickly this time, so you might have to work a little harder. You can prime it with a little bit of teasing first. Want to give it a try?"

Michelle reached over hesitantly, and pulled up short of actually touching me. She had put her hand on my cock a couple of times, playfully, but had never really taken a serious grip on it.

Denise offered some encouragement. "It's okay, Michelle, no need to rush, take your time, look it over close, get acquainted with it."

Michelle stood up and asked me to lie down on my back. Denise moved over to make room, and I lay down with my knees over Denise's lap. Michelle dropped to her knees and brought her face up close to my dick. She started to poke and prod, and squeeze, examining me like a piece of meat or something. She ran her fingertips over every inch of my cock, getting an all-over feel for it. I just lay there and enjoyed the attention, even though it wasn't as erotic as an actual hand job, it was fun just being the subject of her investigation. Morgan moved over to the sofa, lifted my head and sat down, placing my head in her lap. 

It was nice, with Morgan running her fingers through my hair, and randomly stroking my face and chest, and Denise rubbing my legs, running her fingers up my thighs and even tickling my balls from time to time. I was getting hornier by the second, and pre-cum was starting to flow when Michelle wrapped her hand around my cock and started stroking. She had a nice firm grip and was moving at a fairly good pace, bringing her hand all the way over the top on each stroke. When I started breathing heavily, she sped up a little. I started thrusting my hips to meet her strokes, and she sped up a little more. I began to chant, "yes - yes - yes" on each stroke. She sped up even more. Denise took hold of my balls, and started squeezing, gently at first, gradually increasing the pressure; she really knew what she was doing. I looked up at Michelle, and we made eye contact, and at that moment, I started coming. Like her sister, Michelle stopped stroking but didn't let go of my dick. We maintained eye contact the whole time. There was something about that, it was different, an added element of complexity that I didn't understand.

I was feeling pretty drained after my second orgasm in an hour, and looking forward to taking a break, but there was no break on Denise's agenda. "Excellent!" she said, "Now I think we can move on to teasing. Is that okay with everybody?" My sisters seemed just a little too enthusiastic. As for myself, I was hooked. I stopped thinking for myself. I was just a plaything, and that's all I aspired to be, at the moment. "Stephen?" Denise addressed me directly, "You ready?"

I looked up at her and nodded, and said simply, "yes, please." 

Chapter 19

Fifteen minutes later, I was lying on my back on a chaise lounge beside the pool, naked as usual, with my hands tied securely to the chair frame at my waist, my ankles tied to the frame at the corners, and my knees secured to the edges of the chair. There was a strap holding my chest to the frame. I had a little bit of wiggle room, but I was basically immobilized. Taking the lesson outdoors was actually Michelle's idea. I started to think maybe she got a kick out of providing a show for the two Ms. Moodys. 

Morgan had learned of Mom's tolerance for Michelle's g-string, and had acquired one of her own, so my sisters were both scandalously underclad. Those 4 ass cheeks alone provided all the incentive needed to keep my dick rock-hard. I was kind of disappointed when Denise showed up wearing an oversized t-shirt over her swimsuit. However, while lying on my back I could see that I was mistaken - she wasn't wearing a t-shirt over her swimsuit. She was wearing a t-shirt. Period. Every time she stepped to the head of my chaise, I was treated not only to the sight of another beautiful ass, but a lovely pussy as well. Shaved. That was so exciting to me, my first live sighting of a shaved pussy. I wanted to get close to it, to get my face right up there in it, to experience it fully. As difficult as it was to entertain a fantasy in the midst of all that was going on, I could not get that pussy out of my mind. 

When I learned I was to be restrained and teased, I actually started salivating. I'd been racking my brain for the best way to engineer this kind of scenario ever since I left the hospital. For the next 3 hours or so, Denise showed Michelle and Morgan all kinds of devious methods of making a guy desperate to cum. She was good at it, no doubt the result of making it her life's work. She knew where to touch, how much pressure to use, when to rub and when to hold still, and she could manipulate a pair of balls, to the point that, twice or maybe three times, I literally thought I was cumming, and wept when I discovered her deception. I have no idea how she did that.

Denise would demonstrate a technique, sometimes twice, then have the girls try it out. Rarely did they get it right to her satisfaction on one try, so everything was repeated, over and over. They spent the first hour on how to detect an oncoming orgasm, to prevent it going over the top. Denise spoke of techniques that involved squeezing the base of the cock, but she thought that was cheating - the orgasm happened, you were just preventing the cum from escaping. She was a purist, and insisted on taking her subject right to the edge and no further. 

By the end of that time, my sisters were getting pretty good at it, but at first they kept missing the cues. I came 3, maybe 4 times during that time, bringing my 3-hour total up to 5 or 6. Yet they had no trouble getting and keeping me hard, and taking me to the edge over and over. And over and over. I was a mumbling idiot by the time Denise announced the day's lesson completed. As soon as my right hand was released, I immediately started jerking off. It took about 20 seconds for me to get that final cum. The ladies all applauded for me, which I found thoughtful.

Denise went inside and ordered a pizza while the girls and I went for a swim. Soon we found ourselves standing by the pool's edge, in waist-deep water, talking about the day's events. I admitted to being totally overwhelmed by everything that happened. Michelle told us that she'd been watching the next door upstairs window, and Grandma had been there with her binoculars for the first hour or so. Morgan thought that was hilarious, but I was mildly disturbed by it. 

As we spoke, the girls kept touching my dick. Not grabbing or pulling, just touching, sometimes holding it, they were being gentle about it. Almost absent-mindedly. It was cock-teasing for sure, but there was something pleasant about it. It made me hard, but I wanted to stay hard. I wanted them to keep doing it. If they'd offered to make me cum, I'd have turned them down. I put my hands on their asses, one on each. I began running my fingers up and down the cracks of their asses, getting a little deeper with each pass, until I had one finger of each hand poised on an anus, awaiting a decision on whether to proceed. I couldn't quite read their expressions - it felt to me like they both were pleased with my hands being exactly where they were, and any penetration would have ruined the moment. The conversation just kind of petered out, and soon we were just standing silently in the pool, me fondling their butts, and all four of their hands moving gently about my cock and balls.

Chapter 20

We ate dinner that night in the upstairs game room, while watching TV. Afterwards, Denise asked, "Okay, who's ready to play the game?" The girls were excited about it, but to be honest, I was a little tired, and said so.

After a moment of awkward silence, Morgan spoke up, "Sorry Stephen, it's really not up to you."

I remembered promising to do as I was told, so I nodded my consent and stood up, awaiting further instruction.

"Okay, we can do it outside if you like, or tie him to the chair, but it usually works better if there's a table where we can lay him flat. A bed would work, but we usually don't use a bedroom."

Morgan and Michelle spoke simultaneously, "the pool table."

"Excellent idea," said Denise, "lets put the cover on it first."

I sat back down, silently watching them cover the pool table. I was trying to act reluctant, but my erection gave me away.

"Here Stephen," Denise said, patting the top of the table, "we need you up here."

Even after a full afternoon of hardcore cock-teasing, my heart was racing, I was sweating, my ears were ringing; it seems that the line between anxiety and excitement is pretty thin sometimes. Denise walked over, reached down and grabbed my balls. She applied steady upward pressure until finally I came to my senses. I went over and laid down on the table, face up.

It took about 10 minutes or so for them to get me tied down spread-eagle on the pool table. This time my hands were secured to the corners over my head, and they had one strap running across my mid-section. My legs were really spread out this time. Looking at my sisters, I swear they were licking their chops in anticipation. They just could not wait to get started.

"Does the winner get a prize?" asked Morgan.

"When I play with my friends, we usually have a little something for the winner, but let's just play for fun tonight."

I noticed Denise was standing at the corner of the table, down by my right foot. She was raised up on her toes just a bit, putting her crotch right on the corner of the table, rocking back and forth with just a little bit of motion. Yes she was, she was using the pool table to masturbate. Morgan, wearing a pair of her spandex volleyball shorts, was leaning against the side of the table. Her crotch was slightly higher than the top of the table, so I could see her hand pressed full-on against her pussy, and she was rubbing it, far less subtle than Denise. Michelle was standing there with her mouth open, staring at my cock.

Denise realized what was going on and said, "Girls, I need to take a short break, could you give me maybe 15 minutes or so, and let's meet back here." Without answering, both girls ran down the hall towards their rooms. As soon as they were gone, Denise climbed up on to the table, on her knees beside me. She unbuttoned her cutoffs and pushed them down to her knees. She was not wearing panties. There was that bare pussy again, I wanted it so badly. I could see how wet it was. She wasted no time at all. Putting two fingers on her clit and pressing hard, started rubbing with a rapid motion. Within 5 minutes she was moaning softly, with volume rising rapidly, until finally she cried out in ecstasy. She slumped, taking a few minutes to recover.

I heard a sound coming from down the hall, "Oh...OH...OH..." getting louder and louder, then it was joined by another, and just as we heard two voices screaming out in pleasure, Denise started rubbing her wet fingers over my lips. I opened my mouth and sucked as much of the flavor as I could off her fingers. She pulled her pants up and fastened them, then surprised me by leaning over, putting her hands on either side of my head, swinging one leg over me and lowering herself down on to my body, and covering my mouth with hers. It was a very aggressive kiss, her tongue probing my mouth. She laid the full weight of her body on mine, not much weight, but I could feel her breasts, and the roughness of her blue jean shorts on my cock, it was not the kind of stimulation I would have asked for, but it freaking sent me to another universe, only for a few seconds until she jumped off the table, just as Michelle and Morgan were coming out of their rooms and coming back down the hall. They were both flush with some combination of embarrassment and sexual excitement.

"Okay, let's get started," Denise said, "I'll go first." She showed the girls how to work her timer app, and reminded Morgan that she only had 10 seconds to start after her turn ended. "Start the timer as soon as I touch the dick."

Denise started with a feather-light finger-tip touch moving up and down my dick. I was absolutely in heaven. I wished that could continue forever, but I felt the cum starting to boil up inside my balls. She realized she was about to lose me, so she responded by lifting her fingers, such that her nails were now moving along my dick. She also shortened the stroke, so that she didn't reach the crown. Just as the timer went off I cried out, and started spurting. I had 2, 3 good spasms, but not much in the way of quantity.

"Damn!" said Denise, "How many times can you cum in one day?"

Michelle answered for me, "Seven at least."

"Eight." Morgan corrected her, "You missed this morning's shower." Everybody laughed at that, myself included.

"I think we should move on to part 2 of the game," said Michelle, sensing that I didn't have too many more orgasms left.

"Okay," Morgan agreed, "but since I'm older, I get to go first."

"Hold on a sec," said Denise. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a bottle of baby oil. "Here, we wouldn't want to chafe him."

Morgan turned to face me and stopped short, a puzzled look on her face. "This is the first time it's been soft all day," she said. "What do we do now?"

Denise shrugged. "We know how to make him get hard," she said with a smile, looking at my dick. Morgan and Michelle joined her, standing around the table, staring at my dick, which had already started to stiffen.

When I had become fully erect, Morgan poured a generous portion of oil onto my dick. She wrapped her hand around it and started pumping like crazy, remembering what Denise had said about speed and pressure. Unfortunately, she had gone a little overboard with the oil, and even though she had me grunting and groaning and thrusting, the timer went off before I did, and now I was very, very close.

Michelle hurried over, poised to begin as soon as Denise gave the word that her 15 seconds wait had ended.

"Go!"

Michelle started at a more leisurely pace than Morgan had, continuously increasing the speed and pressure until she was pumping away like a damn piston engine. Years of tennis provided her with strength and stamina, and there was no way I could withstand an assault like that. She only needed about 30 seconds to have me shooting off again.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 03



"Denise," I said, "That is the absolute coolest game ever invented. You should get a patent or something." Everybody laughed.

Denise said, "I don't know about you, but that made me thirsty. Come on girls, let's get a soft drink or something." She started down the stairs. Michelle and Morgan looked at each other, then looked at me, then back at each other, then over to Denise, who had paused on the staircase, outside my line of sight. I suspect she signaled to the girls in some way, because they broke out in smiles and started toward the stairs.

"Hey!" I called out, "Come back here!" But all I heard in response was giggles and the sound of retreating footsteps, until I was all alone on top of the pool table, naked and bound. Of course I laughed along with them when they returned a few minutes later, bringing a beverage for me.

Even though it was still early, Denise announced she was going to bed. "Stephen, come see me after you've had your shower, there's a couple of things we need to discuss."

When she was out of earshot, Michelle said, "That sounded serious, what do you think it is?"

"I bet she wants you to fuck her brains out," said Morgan.

Michelle replied, "Morgan! I can't believe you just said that!"

"Lighten up, I was just kidding."

I don't know about the rest of their conversation because I was already headed to the shower.

Chapter 21

After my shower I started down the stairs. I wasn't worried about Denise's serious tone of voice, but I certainly was looking forward to walking naked into her bedroom. The door was closed, so I knocked softly. Denise opened the door for me, wearing the same robe from last night, and closed it behind me.

"I really enjoyed playing with you today, you're a very good sport," she said. "Now there's something a little more serious that I want you to learn about." I just stood there watching, as she walked over to a wingback chair and sat down, crossing her legs and covering them modestly with her robe. I noticed she had spread a towel over the seat, which did make me a little curious.

"This might be a little awkward at first," she said. I had never seen her acting nervous before, she was always so confident. "Do you have any experience with oral sex?"

My dick sprang to attention, zero to sixty in under one second. I couldn't believe it! I was about to get a blow job! From my Aunt Denise! I gulped, took a deep breath, and said nervously, "I doubt it, but even if I had, I'd have forgotten what it feels like."

"Hmmm. What it feels like? I think you've misunderstood me. You should have said, 'forgotten what it tastes like.'"

With that she uncrossed her legs and let the robe fall open to her waist, exposing that beautiful pussy that she'd been flashing all day. I didn't need any further encouragement. I walked straight up to her and dropped to my knees. She slid forward, spread her legs, and began to acquaint me with the female anatomy. Soon she reached out for my head. I leaned forward and let her guide my face towards her pussy. 

She held me up just short, and said, "Now, I'm going to talk you through this at first, and guide you with my hands. Don't be nervous, and don't rush. You have to let me set the pace, that's the most important thing." 

I nodded my understanding. 

"Now, open your mouth, but don't do anything until I tell you." She pulled me in until my mouth and nose came into contact with her pussy lips. "Open your mouth and breathe on me," she said. I complied, inhaling her rich aroma. It was better than I ever imagined. 

She taught me to start slow, be patient, and read her body language. She was a good teacher, and I felt fully immersed in the lesson. My face was getting drenched, and I was learning to love the scent and taste of a woman. A good half-hour passed before she instructed me to focus on her clit, and began thrusting her hips, grinding my face into her pussy. Soon she came, crying out with wave after wave of pleasure until she relaxed, but she did not release her grip on my head, instead holding it close, and instructing me to breathe on her again. I did so, and the cycle repeated itself.

She released me after her second orgasm. "That was pretty good, for the first time," she said seriously, "I think you can learn to be really good, with a little bit of practice." She had a slight smile on her face, and I suspected she was kind of teasing me a little. I hoped she meant that she would have me on my knees every night of her stay; I intended to do everything I could to make that happen.

When she noticed my erection, she just laughed and shook her head. "I had completely forgotten what it's like to be with an eighteen-year-old boy. Would you like to jerk off for me?"

She didn't have to ask twice. It took a little while, being my ninth of the day but it sure felt good, kneeling there in front of her, my face covered in her juices, looking into her eyes as she watched me masturbate. 

Chapter 22

I slept very late the next day. Michelle and Morgan were having lunch when I walked, naked as usual, into the kitchen. Denise had gone out for something. Before I even sat down, the girls started pressing me for information about the previous night. I felt kind of conflicted. On the one hand, I felt my experience with Denise was very personal and private. On the other hand, I couldn't help thinking about how erotic it would be to talk about it with my sisters.

"Okay," I said, "brace yourselves. She wanted to teach me how to..." I couldn't think of just the right words to use with these two girls. I hesitated for a few minutes, during which time Morgan, being true to herself, kept checking out my dick, causing it to stiffen up. She reached out and took hold of it, just holding onto it. Well, that made it a lot easier for me to say what I had to say.

"She taught me how to eat pussy."

That got quite a reaction from Morgan, who laughed and said, "Wow, imagine that, our little brother going down on Aunt Denise." She playfully slapped my dick a couple of times - she was really enjoying it. 

Michelle's reaction was totally different. She fell silent, with a thoughtful look on her face. Her mouth opened a little. She had this faraway look in her eyes. I know I can't read minds, but I knew exactly what she was thinking. She was wondering what it would be like to have my head between her legs. She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip, looked away, then looked thoughtfully at my dick.

Michelle sometimes got this dreamy look that really suited her; so seductive, so sexy, so irresistible, and it seemed effortless, like she was completely unaware of her beauty or the effect it had on men. While some women have to put a little effort into looking their best (which I do appreciate, by the way), Michelle was always sexy, desirable, 100% of the time; she couldn't turn it off. I knew she went out on dates sometimes, I just couldn't figure out why she didn't have boys fighting each other off at the door.

"So how'd you do? With the pussy-eating? Did you enjoy it?" asked Morgan,

"It was okay. She said I might get really good at it with practice."

I thought I heard a sharp intake of breath coming from Michelle. She was heating up.

I was hoping to manipulate them into asking for it, without sounding like I was hinting at it. I know I could have just come right out and asked, but I was still pursuing a strategy. I believed that if I pressured them into having sex with me, it would be great, but it might be a one-shot deal. By easing into it, I hoped to make it a regular thing. I had to keep in mind that their perspective on our relationship was different from mine. Even though we were related only by marriage, they had memories of us growing up together as brother and sister. I couldn't be sure just how reluctant they might be to actually fuck me, or how guilty they might feel afterwards. 

"Any idea when Denise will be back?" I asked.

They said she'd just stepped out to get some groceries, so we expected her back pretty soon. Apparently we didn't keep enough vegan food in the house. Morgan excused herself and went upstairs, leaving me and Michelle alone. She hadn't spoken, had not hardly moved at all, since I revealed my pussy-eating lessons. She was normally more extroverted. I was only half-finished with my lunch, but I had something else in mind. I stood up and walked around to her side of the table. True to form, her eyes followed my bouncing dick. I picked her dishes, along with mine, and carried them to the sink.

She was still sitting there when I headed toward the stairs. I could feel her eyes on me. Without looking back, I said, "You coming?"

I heard her chair scoot back from the table. "Yeah," was all she said. She caught up with me at the top of the stairs and we walked together down the hall. I walked her past my room, down to her door. I rarely went into her room, but this time I wanted her behind a closed door. She followed me in and closed the door behind her. I was smiling, but she had a such a serious look on her face. I took her by the arm and led her over to sit on the edge of the bed. I got down on my knees, and, looking up at her, saw her break into a smile, a sexy, "game on" sort of smile. She stood back up so I could hook my fingers in the waistband of her spandex shorts. I pulled them down, and her panties at the same time. I was finally face to face with her pussy. I studied it for a few minutes. She had a lot of dark hair down there; it was trimmed around the edges to fit into her bikini, but what remained was longer than I thought it would be. And wet. I leaned forward and drew some of it into my mouth, to get a taste of her. It was a little bit tangy, with a faint salty bitter aftertaste. There was a very quiet moan, and she settled back on to the bed and lay back. I lifted her legs and placed them over my shoulders, and leaned in close. I put my mouth over her pussy. I wasn't sure whether I would like a mouthful of hair, and probably would not, in any other context, but I took it all in and experienced it fully with my tongue. The bitterness dissipated after a minute, and I knew it must have been the residual taste of urine adhering to her pubic hair. I would not have wanted more of it, but I did find that it added to the eroticism of the moment. I slowly worked my tongue through the hair, until it contacted her pussy lips. She gasped, and put her hands on either side of my head. I was doing it just like Denise taught me to. Breathing, touching lightly with my tongue. I let her set the pace, and guide me with her hands. I knew that mine was the first tongue inside her pussy, but she had no problem communicating her needs to me through body language. She was moaning louder and louder, and getting wetter and wetter; I was quickly acquiring a taste for her juices. When the moment seemed right I focused my efforts on her clit, and she screamed, just like that afternoon in the pool, when she'd masturbated for me. 

When she settled down, I held still, hoping for another round, but with her hands on my face she guided me to a standing position and held me close. She had an old-fashioned bedframe, higher than most, so my cock shaft, trapped between us, was rubbing against her clit. She wrapped her legs around my butt, clinging to me like Velcro, digging her teeth into my shoulder and her fingernails into my back, alternately flexing and relaxing her thighs, grinding her clit against me. She was pressing hard, and her pussy lips were wrapped around the shaft of my cock, with her clit rubbing that most sensitive area just below the head. She started thrusting frantically and calling out with each thrust, rhythmically, "Oh - oh - oh - oh" until finally with one long "oooohhhh yessssss" she came again, tightening her grip with both her arms and legs, holding tight, until I could hold back no longer, and with a loud grunt, shot a substantial load of cum into the tight space between our bellies.

I held her there as she gradually relaxed, then lowered her back on to the bed. I lay down beside her, head on my hand, looking down at her. I put my other hand on her stomach; I'd forgotten about the puddle of cum there, but it didn't matter. Before, I had been thinking that she had the sexiest look on the planet, and could get no sexier, but I was wrong. After a pair of satisfying orgasms, her bedroom eyes were like some kind of superhero power, able to stop time itself in its tracks. I was completely immobilized by them.

When she came to her senses, we smiled at each other, then started laughing, even gave each other a high five. We both agreed on how great it was, and even had a brief discussion about how that has to be as close as we ever get to having sex, because it stopped just short of being creepy. She agreed on it, I pretended to agree on it. I had to - if it was that close to creepy for her, I wasn't going try to push her any further. Not until she was ready. I thought, "If I could have this kind of sex with her for the rest of my life, I'd die a happy man." I knew that wasn't going to happen, but that's how good it was, even without actual penetration.

When Michelle had finished cleaning up and surrendered the bathroom, I went in for a shower. Morgan came in, and after I turned the water off, while I was drying, asked me what me and Michelle had been up to. I told her, respectfully, that I thought she should ask Michelle.

"Did you fuck her?" she asked pointedly. She was seriously playing the part of the big sister, protecting her little sister from some kind of predator or something.

I looked her in the eye and said seriously, "Morgan, we did not fuck. In fact, we have reached an agreement that it would be way too creepy, so we are not going to fuck each other. I swear that's the truth."

She relaxed and say, "Okay, but you did go down on her, didn't you."

I smiled sheepishly and nodded. "I did that, and enjoyed it very much."

She just smiled and said, "My turn." She grabbed my dick and pulled me along to her room.

We went in and closed the door. She pulled me to the middle of the room and said, "Okay, you're the expert, how do we do this." She so wanted to be in control, but she didn't know what she was doing. I kind of enjoyed her uncertainty. 

She had an easy chair in her room, so I guided her backwards until it was directly behind her. Just like with Michelle, I dropped to my knees and pulled her shorts and panties off in one motion, then pushed her gently back until she was seated. I put her knees over my shoulders and said, "Now you just relax. You can use your hands to guide me if you like, and let me know whether you like what I'm doing." I rested my head on her thigh, my face right in front of her pussy. Her blond hair was finer than Michelle's, sparse and shorter. As a result, she had a sweeter aroma, and tastier, I really enjoyed it. I started slow and steady, taking my cues from her, and soon had her screaming out. When she finished her first orgasm, I resisted her efforts to push my head away, instead pushing in closer, breathing on her, and laid my tongue along her slit and just rested it there.

"Oooo that's nice," she said. When I started moving, she asked me to stop, and just hold my position. I was holding as still as I could, and she was making a soft sound, like "mmmmmmmm," rising and falling in pitch. We held that position for a long time, it might have been 20 minutes or more before she started a rhythmic movement of her hips, and I went back to work, bringing her to another orgasm in a very short time. This time, I let her push me away.

"I think Denise is right - with a little bit of practice, you could be really great at that. Now go on so I can clean up." 

I hadn't realized just how horny eating pussy will make a man. I was ready to come again, so I started for my room, but Michelle intercepted me. "Hey Denise is looking for you downstairs. Do you know where Morgan is?" I pointed to Morgan's door and started down to find Denise. 

After a short search, I saw her out by the pool sunning herself. She heard me open the door, and watched me approach. I noticed her eyes were on my swinging dick, which of course gave me an erection almost immediately. That made her smile - I guess her boyfriends were old enough to not get hard at the drop of a hat. As for myself, ever since I'd awakened from that coma nearly 3 months ago, I'd spent more time naked than clothed, and usually with women all around me, yet I still could not get enough of it.

"I need to go back to the house this weekend," she said. "Michelle and Morgan both have plans, but I'd like for you to come along with me if you want. We'd leave Friday after lunch and come back Sunday, maybe Monday."

That's something I really liked about Denise; she could have instructed or even demanded that I come along, but she asked if I wanted to. I think that's classy. Of course I agreed. At that point we were joined by Morgan and Michelle.

"Who wants to play a game?" asked Denise?

Morgan spoke up excitedly, but Michelle said, "Oh, actually, I kind of invited Stephanie to come over and go swimming this afternoon. She'll be here any minute." My dick twitched at that news, and I know Denise and Morgan noticed.

"Should we get some clothes on Stephen?"

Michelle told her about what Stephanie said when she was here last, about how I didn't need to get dressed for her.

Denise smiled a sly smile, and said, "She's more than welcome to join us, if you think she'll enjoy it." I almost came just from the thought.

Fifteen minutes later, I was bound to my favorite chaise, and Michelle was escorting Stephanie out to the pool. Stephanie was laughing and shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh wow," was all she could say.

"Hello Stephanie," I said, trying to make a little joke, "I'm so glad you could join us. Please excuse me for not getting up to greet you properly, I'm a little tied up at the moment." It was not that funny, really, but it drew laughter and giggles from the ladies.

Stephanie played along, "It's so nice to see you again. Always a pleasure." She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek, laying her hand on my hard cock in the process.

"Why don't we just get started," Denise said, "and by the time your turn rolls around, I'm sure you'll have it figured out. It's not complicated. Should we go in age order again?"

Everyone agreed, and Denise started. She had the magic hands, and I was squirming and twitching in no time. She got me right to the edge, and held me there until the timer went off. I begged her not to stop but they all just laughed at me. Morgan went next, driving me further out of my mind. A couple times I thought she was going to go too far, but she managed to recover. Two minutes into the game and already I was a quivering mess. Michelle was next. I wasn't sure she'd be able to compete, but damn, she kept me hard the whole time without bringing me close to orgasm. I think she might have been trying to cut Stephanie a break. But as soon as she started, I knew that she was no stranger to cock-teasing. I really thought I was going to lose it as soon as she touched me. I'd been thinking about her a lot lately. You might think that, given my reality I would not have any time for fantasy, but the fact is, a man always has time for fantasy, and Stephanie appeared in mine on a regular basis. To have her hand on my cock was like a dream come true. By the time she finished, I was thrusting as much as I could, begging her for release. She was smiling at me; it was a familiar smile, like we were old friends or something. I wondered how awkward it would be for us to go out on a date.

Denise pulled out all the stops on her next turn, alternately driving me to the brink then backing me off, finishing with me so close, my dick was twitching and spasming, I was grunting and groaning, it looked like I was cumming, but nothing was coming out, and I was more frustrated than ever. Morgan barely laid a finger on me when I started shooting like crazy. Thank goodness, I don't know how much more of that I could stand. Before Michelle started, she suggested going to part 2. Stephanie agreed. I think Denise would have preferred another round of teasing, but she went along.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 04



Note: This is part 4 of a much longer story. I would encourage you to read the first 3 parts.

*****

Chapter 23

Maybe it was just me, but Michelle always looked damn sexy first thing in the morning, her dark, wavy hair asserting itself and her puffy eyelids heavy with sleep. I awoke early Thursday to the sight of her standing beside my bed, looking at me with a dazed and confused expression. 

"Hey Michelle, is something wrong?"

"I had a strange dream," she said, "I don't remember much about it, but when I woke up..." She turned around and showed me the back of the stretched-out oversized t-shirt in which she slept. There was a sizeable wet spot in the area just below her bottom. "It doesn't smell like pee."

"Let me see that." I lifted the spot to my nose and took a whiff. There wasn't much odor; I took a wild guess. "It looks like you had a wet dream," I told her, "were you dreaming about sex?"

"I just can't remember. I did feel pretty good when I woke up. But girls don't have wet dreams."

I rolled out of bed and took a seat at my desk. "Here, let's see," I said, pulling her into my lap. I loved feeling her bare bottom pressing down on my legs. I spun the chair around to face the computer, reaching under her arms for the keyboard. I pulled up a browser window and searched for "do women have wet dreams." 

My cock stiffened quickly, pressing insistently against the underside of her thighs. She squirmed on my lap and put her knees together, denying me entrance to the sanctuary.

When the search results appeared, I clicked on the first link. "There you go," I said, "girls do have wet dreams. It looks like you must have had a good one."

Her thighs parted slightly, making just enough room to trap my cock. I reclined as far as the chair would allow, pulling her back against my chest. With my feet flat on the floor, I was rotating the chair slowly back and forth, left-right-left-right. With each change of direction, her legs alternately opened, allowing a tiny bit of vertical progress, then closed around me again. Her head on my shoulder, I buried my face in her hair and pressed my lips against her neck, taking a shallow breath with each movement of my cock between her legs.

Just as I was reaching the summit, she jumped off my lap and perched on the edge of the bed. She lowered her head and gave me a sideways glance so hot it could melt kevlar. I dropped to my knees and, parting her thighs, lifted them to my shoulders. We maintained eye contact until my tongue made contact with her dripping cunt. She was quickly approaching orgasm, but I wanted to feel her writhe under my touch for a little while longer. I began to tease with long slow strokes, sticking my tongue into her as far as it would reach then wrapping it around her clit. 

When she tangled her fingers in my hair and lifted her hips to my mouth, I focused all my attention on her clit until she squeezed hard with her thighs and cried out. She cried out again, and a third time, flooding my mouth with a taste I was learning to love. Being face to face with the female orgasm is like being at the beginning and end of the universe, all eternity compressed into a moment. Nothing else comes close.

She gradually relaxed, and when she released her grip on my head I raised up and sat beside her. She reached over and took my cock in hand, holding it gently. I leaned back on my elbows enjoying the moment.

After she caught her breath, she spoke, "I invited some of my tennis teammates over for a swim at 10:00."

"Today? Ok, I'll get dressed."

"Well...actually...," she gave me a little smile and a sideways look, which she knew I couldn't resist. I knew what she was going to ask, and I knew I would go along. But I waited for her to ask, anyway. She began rhythmically squeezing my dick as she spoke. "Would you mind letting them see you naked?"

"I'll do whatever you want, Michelle, but I'd rather just be myself than pretend to get caught in the shower or something like we did with Stephanie. What did you tell them?"

"Well...actually...," she started stroking slowly. It felt so good, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes about halfway.

"I might have mentioned to some of my friends that you don't wear clothes at home."

"How many teammates are we talking about?"

"Caroline and Jennifer."

"Oh, that's not so bad."

"And Chris and Monica."

"Michelle!"

"What? And Maria and Ashley."

"Is that the whole team?"

"No. Gabriela and Samantha are out of town. But Stephanie will be here." I remembered Stephanie, the blonde with the unforgettable blue-gray eyes, from her visit a week prior. She and Michelle both played varsity soccer.

"What about the rest of the soccer team?"

She tightened her grip and started making full strokes. "I'm trying to set something up for next week." She might have been kidding, but I hoped she was serious.

I started breathing heavily and straightened my legs, lifting my hips. "Can I tell you a secret? I mean, for your ears only?"

"Of course." She quickened her pace. I was ready to cum, but I wanted to say it first. Saying the words would cause a jolt like an electric current to pass through my genitals.

"I love showing my dick to your friends," I said breathlessly, gasping for air.

"I know that," she said, releasing her grip and giggling like a school-girl.

I needed just one more stroke. Half a stroke would've been enough. My cock was jerking and twitching like it was about to blow, but she'd stopped just in time; Denise had taught her well. Michelle started laughing, and I laughed with her. I knew she wouldn't leave me hanging, but I had a better idea. She reached out, but I was already standing and facing her, dick in hand. Three strokes later I shot a huge load at her shirt, but aimed too high. "Oh shit," I thought as it headed for her mouth. She saw it coming (no pun intended) and tilted her head up. It hit high on her neck. 

She was laughing too hard to notice the second incoming blast, and tilted her head back down just in time to take it right between the lips. Lowering her head again, the third and final load caught the bridge of her nose. It was a sight to behold.

She ended up with cum on the front of her shirt, cum dripping down her neck onto her chest and cum covering a good portion of her face. I was still laughing, while trying to apologize. I thought she might get upset about the cum in her mouth, but she was smiling and rolling it around with her tongue like a sommelier testing a new vintage. When I saw her swallow, it gave me an erection.

"I didn't mean to make such a big mess," I said with a smile, "Here, let me help." She started laughing when I lifted the front of her shirt and started wiping her face, smearing cum from forehead to chin. She offered no resistance when I lifted the cum-drenched shirt over her head. I wiped the cum down her neck and all over her tits. She was still laughing. I dropped the shirt and, for the first time, ran my hands over her breasts, pinching her nipples, feeling them grow hard between my fingertips. Placing her hand on the back of my neck, she lifted her mouth to mine and forced her tongue inside. I focused on enjoying the kiss and ignoring the taste. 

She pressed my face against her chest between her boobs, covering me in cum. I grabbed her around the waist, and pressing her body against mine, stood up and carried her upright into the bathroom. She laughed hysterically as I deposited her into the shower, stepping in with her. To avoid a cold shock, I pointed the nozzle away from us before turning on the water. We stood there holding on to each other while the water heated up for our first shower together.

Chapter 24

I went for a swim around 9:45, figuring the exercise would help me keep things under control. I knew I'd get hard at some point during the party, but was not inclined to approach a group of strangers with an erection. It just seemed weird. 

Stephanie got there early and we stood in the pool together, talking and watching the rest of the guests arrive. The senior members of the female tennis team were an impressive, if not intimidating, collection of muscular (but not muscle-bound), curvy, hot bodies. They were gathering at one of the patio tables to greet one another. 

As I looked them over from a distance, I observed few natural beauties among them, like Michelle. Most were quite good-looking; the worst among them was above average, in my opinion. There were few with very large breasts, like Michelle, and a few with very small. One thing they shared in common was athleticism, and that's something that always catches my eye.

Stephanie told me Michelle had asked her to introduce me to them. I was beginning to feel comfortable with Stephanie, it would be nice to have a friend there.

"I think we should tell people we're together. You'll seem more of a naturist and less creepy if you have a girlfriend. Are you cool with that?"

Made sense to me. I wanted a few more minutes to gather my nerves, so she went on over without me. When she climbed out and started toward the patio, her ass caught my eye. I'd noticed her ass before, she had a great ass, but this time I noticed how her flimsy bikini bottoms clung to every crevice. One of those crevices was particularly noticeable from behind. I started thinking about the view from the front. A little more swimming was required.

I took a deep breath, climbed out and headed towards the patio. I had to cover a good 50 feet, swinging and dangling, with six hot women looking on. Six who've never seen me before, eight altogether. Make that ten - Morgan and Denise were watching, too.

Some of them played it cool, but there was some giggling, OMG's and even a couple of catcalls. Stephanie grabbed my hand and walked me around, making introductions. I promptly forgot who was who. Several didn't even bother to make eye contact when we were introduced, preferring to watch my dick flop around. By the time I'd met everyone, my cock was beginning to stiffen.

Stephanie pulled me aside to whisper in my ear, "I told them you would get hard if they looked at it." She was either pulling a mean trick or funny prank, or doing me a favor. I saw it as a favor, and responded by giving her a warm smile and kiss on the cheek.

My cock accelerated its climb. For brief moment everyone fell silent. Those with sunglasses pulled them down to peer over the top. I looked around and saw everything from surprise, to fascination, to amusement. Eyes widened, mouths dropped open, some even licked their lips. Considering they'd been tipped off, some of them might have been teasing, but I liked it. The memory of those girls watching me get hard fueled jerk-off sessions for months, and I've never had a shortage of material.

Someone asked if I was naked all time.

"Mostly just when I'm home."

Someone else asked Stephanie if she knew about that when she started dating me.

She answered, "Of course I knew, he's my best friend's brother."

The crowd started to disburse and head for the pool, but a couple of the girls gathered around for more conversation with Stephanie and me. Caroline and Monica sat down at a table, along with Stephanie. Denise joined us, leaving me without a chair. I pulled a barstool over and took a seat, putting my cock at eye level. 

Sitting around a table naked, with 4 hotties in bikinis, I reflected on what a lucky man I was. I wasn't just hard, I was starting to pant. Despite having cum that morning, I was going to start dripping unless I could find a way to stop thinking about Michelle covered in cum, or Michelle naked in the shower, or all those beautiful young eyes seeking out my hard cock.

I'd viewed a great many CFNM scenarios on the web, many showing naked men serving drinks to the ladies. I'd jerked off to those videos many times, making them a regular part of my fantasies. But the scenario Michelle had put together for me made for a reality that surpassed the fantasy. Nearly as I could tell, these chicks were here to satisfy curiosity, not exert power. If I was wrong about one or two, so be it.

Caroline and Monica both mentioned relatives that were into the naturist lifestyle. In fact, Monica claimed to visit a clothing-optional beach on a regular basis with her cousins. She said she went naked sometimes, but I was skeptical.

"I've never been," I said, "Where is it? In LA?" I'd looked it up - it was illegal in LA county.

"I don't know where exactly, somewhere around San Diego." That was a good answer.

They asked if Stephanie and I hung out naked together. She told them we did not, that she enjoyed having a boyfriend who was willing to get naked for her without demanding anything in return. Something about the words "naked for me" made my cock twitch. Somebody asked if there were any other nudists in my family.

"Naturists," Denise corrected her. "As a matter of fact, there are." She reached back and untied her bikini top, flinging it over by the house. She stood up and pushed her bottoms to the ground, and stepped out of them, exposing her beautiful shaved pussy. She sat back down, but not before I noticed a stunning stylized image of Kokopelli tattooed on one butt check, and on the other, curiously, a silhouette that looked a lot like Louis Armstrong blowing his horn.

Feeling the need for a closer look, I asked her to stand up and turn around. Her decorated ass received a lot of complements, but all I said was, "Can't wait to hear that story."

Morgan, having watched Denise's performance from across the yard, approached with raised eyebrows. Denise relayed the topic of conversation, explaining why she had stripped. Morgan got one of those "why not" looks on her face, set her drink down on the table, and shed her bikini, too. She put her arm around the back of my stool, pressing her boob against my arm and resting her other hand on my thigh. 

Morgan joined the conversation, but I had become too distracted to hear what was said. I skipped right over the "one or two droplets at a time" stage and went straight to the free-flowing stage. The two guests seated in front of me were totally captivated by the sight of pre-cum running down my cock and dripping off my balls in a thick, unbroken strand that reached all the way to the ground.

I did my best to remain calm, smile, as if nothing was happening. Denise and Morgan had no trouble avoiding any kind of reaction, and Stephanie really kept her cool, too. Caroline and Monica managed with great effort to stifle their giggles, but couldn't tear their wide-eyed stares from it, nor close their mouths. I noticed I was attracting more attention from the pool area. Michelle walked over with a couple of girls who leaned in for a closer look.

I suddenly felt the need to be somewhere else. Suggesting a swim, I climbed off my stool and took Stephanie by the hand. We ran to the pool and jumped in together, swimming underwater a short distance. We surfaced in the middle of the pool where it was too deep for her to stand, so she wrapped her arms and legs around me. Putting her head alongside mine, she whispered, "I have never been so hot in all my life." I was really starting to like this girl.

My hard cock was trapped between us, and I could feel her pussy lips through the lightweight fabric; it felt like they were gripping the shaft. She was starting to flex her legs, pushing her heels against my butt, pressing herself against me. She was flushing and breathing heavily. I put my arms around her and pulled her in tighter, creating friction by lifting my heels off the bottom to stand on my toes, and dropping back down in a steady rhythm. 

Stephanie began to moan, very softly, on each downstroke. A steady "oh - oh - oh - oh" whispered in my ear. She squeezed her legs around me tighter and tighter. "Oh - oh - oh god, Stephen what are you doing? Uh - uh - uh - uh."

I moved toward the side of the pool until I was close enough to grip the tile trim with my fingertips, gaining enough traction to pull myself forward trapping her against the wall. With Stephanie clinging to me like a frightened cat, we kept bouncing off the wall. She put her open mouth on my neck. I felt her teeth digging in, harder and harder. 

Finally we stopped bouncing and I pushed hard against her. She uttered an unrecognizable sound, stifled by my neck so that only I could hear. I felt her body shudder, and shudder again, and finally one last shudder. I hoped she hadn't drawn blood with her teeth. I looked at everyone in my line of sight; every single person looked away as soon as I turned in their direction. 

I hoped Stephanie would be okay with fucking me in the pool while everyone watched. It was simulated fucking, but it felt to me like we nailed it. If we'd invited guys instead of girls, there would have been applause - maybe even a standing ovation. 

We gradually relaxed, then disengaged. She leaned over to me and whispered, "That was totally fucking incredible."

"You aren't embarrassed? I think some people might have been watching."

"Hell no, I'm not embarrassed. I hope everyone was watching. I know everybody on that side of the pool was." She nodded toward the direction she'd been facing. I smiled at the thought that maybe Stephanie was an exhiti

"Well, you got your wish then. Everybody on that side was watching, too."

We gave each other a celebratory fist-bump. I looked toward the patio, and noticed Denise and Morgan sitting naked at the table where we'd left them. I asked if Stephanie felt like joining them; she agreed.

I climbed out of the water and pulled her out by the hand. We walked the short distance to the patio, my erection leading the way. As we took our seats, I thanked Denise and Morgan for supporting me by getting naked. "Sorry about running out on you," I added.

Morgan smiled and nodded, and tipped her beer in my direction. I didn't even know we had beer. "I don't blame you for jumping in," she said, "it looked like you were in need of some cooling off."

Denise said, "I can't tell you how good it feels to finally get out of those clothes. I almost never wear anything at home."

"You don't really have to wear anything here, you know," I told her.

"That's what Morgan's been saying. Since when have you been Stephanie's boyfriend?" asked Denise.

Stephanie answered for me, explaining her idea and the reason for it.

Morgan said, "Well you guys sure made it look real in the pool." She got a high-five from Denise for that comment, it was funny and everybody laughed.

"We were just having a little fun," Stephanie said with a smile.

"Stephanie, you are all right," said Denise.

Around lunchtime, the girls started to leave. They stopped by our table to speak to Denise, I guess they assumed she was sort of the unofficial hostess, since Mom wasn't here. Two had already left, and I'd noticed the remaining four having some kind of heated discussion before prodding Ashley in our direction. I knew it was Ashley because Stephanie said her name. 

After speaking to Denise, she approached me. She had this peculiar smile and sort of a gleam in her eye, and said something about how nice it was to meet me, and she was looking forward to seeing me this year in school. Then she shocked the hell out of me by walking right up between my legs and giving me a big hug, rubbing her bare belly all over my hard dick. I couldn't help but exhale suddenly against her neck, and I might have made some kind of sound, like, "Oh" at the moment of contact. She held herself against me for a little bit longer than your normal polite social hug.

I said, "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine." Morgan, Denice and Stephanie all had a hard time containing their laughter when they heard that.

The remaining three guests did the same, but since they didn't catch me by surprise, I was able to hug them back. I put my arms around them and held them a little tighter than they had in mind; held them a little longer, too. I repeated my previous comment to each. What's more, I left increasing amounts of moisture on their bellies, just a little something to remember me by.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 04



As soon as the last of the tennis players had finally left the yard, we all burst out laughing. Morgan walked over and mimicked them in an exaggerated fashion, rubbing my dick between her breasts. Denise got up and followed suit, using her more substantial boobs. I was surprised when Michelle dropped her top and went next, her stiff nipples poking into my belly. I don't think the girls really expected Stephanie to go along, but I was not surprised to see her fling her top across the yard, and bury my cock in her cleavage. 

My head was spinning. I became convinced that, in terms of wild sexual experiences, I had peaked and it would be all downhill from there. I have since learned that no matter how wild it gets, it can always get wilder.

Chapter 25

Michelle and Stephanie left to do whatever it is girls do when they go out for the afternoon, and Morgan had a date for the day game at Dodger Stadium. I got dressed so I could meet the guy. He looked like every other surfer dude on the west coast, and seemed to have a hard time using multi-syllabic words in a sentence. In his defense, the cards were stacked against him.

Denise opened the door wearing only her string bikini top along with a nearly-sheer white cover-up, which did not hide her colorfully decorated bottom at all, and in the right light failed to conceal her shaved pussy. And by "right light," I am referring to the lighting in the foyer of our home. Or basically any other lighting conditions apart from pitch-black darkness. 

Morgan delivered the knock-out punch by sauntering down the stairs wearing a stretchy knit tube dress that barely covered her ass, and platform sandals that could best be described as "fuck-me shoes." I had to hold my mouth closed with both hands to keep from salivating all over the floor. That poor guy never stood a chance. She couldn't even walk down the stairs without exposing her g-string panties with every step.

It was no problem, though, because you couldn't see much of the panties; you could see a lot of skin, and a few wispy blonde hairs, but not much panty. She was an athlete herself, how is it she'd never been to a stadium? I made a mental note to buy season tickets to the Dodgers.

As soon as they were out the door, I made a smart-ass comment about how well Morgan's outfit would go over with the stadium crowd. Denise informed me that the young man had his own luxury box - Morgan would not be negotiating any stairs, or stadium seating, or even sitting outside in the hot sun. 

With that out of the way, we shed our clothes and sat down to lunch. After everything I had experienced since my accident, having a nude woman around was downright decadent. Now I had Denise to myself, naked, right across the table, and I was desperate to get next to her. Halfway through lunch I asked if she had any plans for the afternoon.

"Nothing important, why?"

"I was thinking about what you said, about how with practice I might get to be really good at oral sex. I thought maybe we might have some time to practice this afternoon."

She saw right through me. "Sweetie," she said with a smile, "you don't ever have to make up an excuse to eat my pussy. The day I turn you down will be the day I die."

I had laid the foundation of my cunning plan to seduce her into taking my virginity. Who was I kidding; if we were ever going to have intercourse, it would be she seducing me. Nevertheless, as a man I had to try - it's what we do.

My plan was to go down on her and get her all worked up without letting her cum. I figured she was bound to ask me to enter her if I got her hot enough. I underestimated her fondness for being teased. We started out on the wingback-chair in the bedroom, our usual location. 

After her first orgasm, I heated her up like she had taught me, but when she started signaling readiness to cum, I backed off the pressure considerably. No matter how hard she pressed on the back of my head, I managed to maintain a light touch with my tongue on her clit. She became a lot more vocal than usual, with moans and grunts and groans, and "oh, ooooo, yes" and so on. I kept it up for quite some time, finally pushing away and suggesting we move to the bed. She was wetter than I've ever seen her, and readily agreed.

She lept on to the bed, motioning for me to hurry. I was on my knees between her legs, scooting closer and closer, until finally I lay my head down on her stomach. I put my hands on her breasts, massaging and pinching her nipples. She was writhing and thrusting, and I started kissing her stomach, getting higher and higher until my head reached her breasts, and I put my mouth over one, working the nipple with my tongue, and then the other. Her arms were around my shoulders, holding me close against her. I could feel her wetness in the vicinity of my stomach, and knew I was near the entrance of the temple. I put my hands on either side of her, elevating my body, and moved in to kiss her lips. 

While we were kissing, I lowered my body slowly until the shaft of my cock came into contact with her pussy. She threw her arms around me and pulled me tight against her. It was absolute heaven. I broke off the kiss and raised up on my hands. The tip of my cock made contact with her pussy lips. I hesitated for a moment, enjoying the sensation. Before I pushed in, she put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me towards the foot of the bed. 

I put up only token resistance; there's no way I would force myself into her, not unless I knew that's what she wanted. I started kissing my way down her stomach to her dripping pussy, and resumed my strategy of tease and deny, hoping my endurance could outlast her willpower. 

But she had an extremely high tolerance for being teased, and after bringing her to the edge over and over, my stiff neck and sore tongue got the better of me. I finally gave in and started licking her clit rapidly the way she loved. After all that teasing, her climax was spectacular, and I enjoyed it very much; it was very nearly worth the effort.

After she came, she was very complementary, regarding both my technique and stamina. I was so in awe of her sexual prowess that her praise made me very happy - had I been a puppy I would have been wagging my tail. But, not being a puppy, I was wagging something else. She turned over, and when I saw that beautiful ass, I couldn't resist. I laid down on her legs, holding most of my weight on my elbows, and lay my head on her ass as if it were a pillow. My cock was slipping between her calves.

With a laugh, I asked if I could kiss her ass. I was going to kiss it anyway, but I found saying the words, "may I please kiss your ass" somewhat sexy, not to mention mildly humorous. 

Denise laughed, too as she replied, "Baby you can kiss my sweet ass any time of day or night." I still think that's funny. 

I pressed my lips against her smooth bottom for several seconds at a time, alternating cheeks, Kokopelli to Louis and back. I paused momentarily to ask, "How the hell do you keep your butt so smooth?" 

She just laughed. 

With each kiss, I moved a little closer to her butt crack, and the closer I got, the louder and longer she moaned her appreciation. When I got to the center, I laid my head face down and just held it there. If she'd asked, I'd probably have tongued her asshole, but my tongue had been working hard enough, and deserved a break. 

I wiggled my head a little side to side, causing my face to descend into the valley of the shadow, coming to rest near the bottom. I liked the way it felt, being cheek-to-cheek to cheek-to-cheek so to speak, resting there. The skin on her ass was amazingly soft, and she had just the right amount of padding to make it a sexy and comfortable pillow. I closed my eyes and almost drifted off, lingering there long enough to prompt Denise to ask if I was still awake.

When I laughed, she kind of shivered, saying, "Hey, that tickles."

"I didn't know I would like your ass this much. It's really very pleasant down here."

"I guess we're even then - I didn't know how much I wanted your face in my ass." 

We both laughed, but my laughter tickled her so much that she rolled back and forth, dislodging me. With my hands and knees on either side of her body, I crawled up and plopped down alongside her, with my head on the pillow beside hers. I rolled her over way from me. Putting my arms around her from behind, my right hand grasped her left breast, my left hand grasped her right breast, and my erection lodged itself lengthwise in her butt crack. I was discharging enough pre-cum to keep things slippery, and begin thrusting with a short stroke, just barely moving, but it was enough to draw a long "mmmmmmmmm" out of her and me both.

"I have a good reason for not wanting to make love with you right now," she said. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course. And I have a good reason for wanting you right now," I quipped, "Basically it's because I have a penis." That drew laughter. "I'm really having fun," I added. 

I was still thrusting but had increased the stroke a bit, and the frequency. I knew I'd be able to cum like that, and figured why not, if she allows it.

After a few more minutes, she grabbed my wrists and extricated herself. Turning around and putting her hands on my shoulders, she guided me on to my back and brought her lips to mine in a long, slow kiss. Then she started planting kisses on my neck, shoulder, chest, tummy and no, she did not stop there. 

I had made Denise into a kind of mythical sex goddess, believing her to be the true path to sexual enlightenment. My first blow job, long and slow and luxurious, made me realize I had been wrong; there was nothing mythical about her. 

It started with her lips wrapped around the head of my cock, the only contact between our bodies, my universe compressed into a shot glass. While she licked and nibbled on the tip, sucking down pre-cum as fast as I could produce it, nothing else existed. She flowed seamlessly from one moment to the next with increasing intensity but never frantic, never a sense of urgency, requiring no effort from me. I lost track of time. I only knew it was mid-afternoon when she started and the sun was on the horizon when I experienced a climax that lasted forever. It is a core tenet of my religion that in some universe somewhere, I am still cumming into Denise's mouth. 

When asked to describe my first blow job, I can only look off into the distance, shake my head in wonder, and mutter, "The things she did with her mouth..."

Chapter 26

Michelle and I had just a few minutes Friday for our usual morning chat. She was leaving early for some kind of 3-day soccer event and I would be spending the weekend at Aunt Denise's, so I wouldn't see her again until Monday. We'd been getting together in the mornings all summer, but something was different that day. 

I stood naked, as usual, leaning against the dresser, while she sat in my computer chair, as usual; but she was not dressed as she usually was. She was not dressed at all. Happily, Thursday's events had loosened her attitude just a bit. I couldn't take my eyes off her breasts, except when I was distracted by that patch of hair between her legs, but that was okay because she couldn't take her eyes off my dick.

"Have any of your friends said anything about yesterday?" I asked.

"Let's see," she said, counting on her fingers, "Caroline and Monica asked when they can come over again. Maria wants me to organize a sleepover for everybody. Ashley asked me to fix her up on a date with you. Jennifer wants to come over this weekend while Stephanie and I are doing the soccer clinic. And Chris's facebook has a pic of you doing Stephanie up against the wall of the pool. It looks like you're both naked. She's biting your neck, and from the look on her face...it totally looks like you guys are doing it."

As she spoke, she wheeled the chair over to me and wrapped her hand around my erection, holding it loosely and studying it curiously.

I smiled, "Did you really just say 'doing Stephanie?'" She smiled and nodded. "We didn't actually do it, you know that, right?"

"Trust me, if you did - I mean, when you do, I'll be the first to know."

As much as I wanted to keep her hand where it was, my curiosity got the better of me. "I gotta see that picture - here, pull it up for me will you?" She let go of my dick when I handed her my tablet. "Did you say Ashley wants a date? She's the one in the red & white stripes, right?" Ashley had been the first of four girls who hugged me as they were leaving, trapping my erection between us and rubbing up against it. That got my attention.

"Red & white. Yeah, and she still thinks you're dating Stephanie." She handed the tablet back. "Here, check it out." She took hold of my cock again.

Chris had zoomed in and caught us during Stephanie's climax - her face had "orgasm" written all over it, and anybody who looked closely at my butt could probably tell I was naked. Stephanie's swimsuit was hidden by me, so you wouldn't really know whether she was naked or not. She wasn't. I was. It wasn't so bad though - my back was to the camera, and Stephanie was hardly recognizable. To anyone who wasn't there, it could have been any random internet picture.

"What did Stephanie have to say about this. Let me guess - she loves it."

"Are you kidding? It's the new wallpaper on her phone." 

"Speaking of Stephanie, you guys have been friends a long time, right?"

"Best friends since second grade"

I asked if I was friends with her before the accident, or if we ever went out on a date. Michelle explained that Stephanie had spent a lot of time with our family over the years, and we got along great. 

"You were always too shy to tell anybody," she said, "but you had a major crush on her since about the seventh grade. I knew you would fall for her again."

"I just like the way she treats me. Like we've been friends a long time. You said we never dated?"

"She wasn't really interested. But you were way different then. In case you haven't noticed, she's interested now."

I changed the subject, "Do you think you'll be able to have the sleepover before Mom gets back?"

She looked up incredulously, "Really?"

"Hate to disappoint Maria."

She looked at me sideways, trying to read my face, to see if I was really serious. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"Best case, we play Denise's game. Worst case, I get to hang out naked with a lot of really hot chicks."

She smiled and shrugged, "I'll see what I can do."

"And the soccer team?"

That made her laugh. "Shut up!" she said teasingly, giving my cock a playful slap. She stood, motioning for me to take her place in the chair. I sat.

"Will you - whoa!" I stopped mid-sentence when she took a seat in my lap; my cock stood between her thighs, nestled up against her pussy. I continued, "...text me Ashley's phone number?"

She lay back against my chest, grabbing my hands and pulling them to her breasts.

"She only wants to sleep with you." Her voice was getting soft and breathy. "You probably won't even have to buy her dinner. Just ask if she wants to come over. But YOU might prefer Jennifer." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly with a long, low, soft purr, like a cat. Lowering her hand to her lap, she began strumming my cock with her fingertips, as if it were a guitar, resting her thumb on the top. 

I momentarily had trouble catching my breath. "Jennifer? Why?" Every few seconds she would flick her thumbnail across the tip of my dick like she was plucking a bass. I was still massaging her breasts, occasionally rolling her nipples around with my fingertips. This conversation was going to start deteriorating soon.

"She brags about being the best cock-tease in our class. Oh, and do me a favor will ya?" She lifted her hand, which enabled me to resume breathing, but I was still waiting for a green light at the intersection of thighs and cunt.

"Just name it." I could feel her fingers brushing against the top of my cock, and realized that she'd started fingering herself.

"If you do Ashley, do her before you actually start dating Stephanie. Okay?"

"You're pretty sure I'm going to get with Stephanie, aren't you."

"Aren't you?" She pulled herself away from me, pulling me up by the hand. I followed her towards the doorway. She turned and leaned back against the wall, putting her hands on my shoulders, applying downward pressure. In no time flat, I was on my knees with my face in her pussy. I let her guide my head with her hands, licking, sucking, nibbling. She started purring again, her voice rising and falling in pitch and volume, gradually getting higher and louder. In this position I was taking more of her juices in my mouth. Her orgasm seemed to last longer this time, which I found strangely gratifying.

When she was done, I stood and kissed her, pinning her against the wall. I was ready to cum. I'd forgotten just how strong Michelle was; she reminded me by grabbing my arms, spinning us around and slamming my back against the wall. She dropped to her knees and hesitated. She was eyeing my cock, right in front of her face, and holding my balls tightly in one hand. When she finally took me into her mouth, it was worth the wait. I realized I'd been holding my breath.

I was enjoying the hell out of Michelle's blow job, and getting close to blowing my load when she stopped. I opened my eyes to see Denise at the door, pleasantly nude. It was almost surreal; the three of us naked, Michelle on her knees with my balls in her hand, and we were greeting each other as we normally would in the morning. Michelle suddenly realized she was running late. She jumped up, thanked me, and ran into the bathroom for her shower. Denise looked at me, looked at my dick, shrugged her shoulders and dropped to her knees. I thanked my lucky stars! How many guys would give their left nut to be me? I would have, for sure.

My back was still against the wall, my dick in Denise's mouth when Michelle finished her shower, dressed, and ran past the door on her way out. I was getting a long, teasing blow job, and enjoying every second. Denise was working her magic, taking me to the edge, holding me there, then backing off slightly before building up again. She stopped moving, holding my dick in her mouth for a moment. I held my breath. Then she let go of me and stood up.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," I said, after I'd managed to catch my breath.

She told me not to cum until she gave the word. "It'll be worth it," she said. I smiled - I'd learned to enjoy tease and denial in the hospital. I'd also learned to trust Denise - if she said it would be good, I knew it would be out of this world.

Chapter 27

Denise's house was old and big, on an oversized lot at the back of a cul-de-sac. She had converted the entire second floor into a studio where she did her painting, but she wanted to show me the back yard first. The property was deep with a steep rocky slope leading to a creek beyond her back fence. She led me to a large metal outbuilding. "This is where I do my sculptures," she told me. It was bigger than a two-car garage, clean and organized. She had more tools than Home Depot. I was impressed. She had a metalworking shop set up in a second building, and a third where she stored materials and finished pieces. 

She began to describe a project about which she was very excited. A sculpture of bronze and bamboo, she said, a unique design, there's nothing like it anywhere. She even showed me some computer drawings, which I admit were quite interesting. She was trying to get it commissioned for a government building or something. "It will give me the credibility I need as a serious artist to get my penis work into the public space." She had previously described penises as her "life's work." I hadn't taken her seriously. I guess that's why she needed this.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 04



We went back inside to see the upstairs studio. Most of her paintings were abstract; I tried my best to appreciate what she was doing. There was something vaguely familiar about it. "The artwork in our house - that's yours, isn't it?" I asked. She seemed pleased that I recognized her work. 

As we walked through the house, she talked excitedly about the history and role of romantic and sensual artwork in our culture. I tried not to be bored. It helped that we'd been naked since we first walked through the door. It became more interesting when she mentioned her concept of introducing raw sexuality into the consciousness of mainstream culture. I think that's how she put it. She pulled a sketchbook from a shelf full of sketchbooks, and we sat together on an over-sized easy chair to look through it.

Pages and pages of penises. Dicks of every size and shape, cut and uncut, straight and curved, long, short, fat, skinny, every page was full of cocks.

"I'm hoping you'll let me draw yours," she said with a smile.

"You really have to ask?"

"I do, actually," she said.

"I don't see any balls here," I remarked, "Just dicks."

"Oh, the balls are in this one." She pulled out another sketchbook.

Pages and pages of balls. Scrotums of every size and shape. I don't know why she separated them, but was afraid to ask.

"Check this out." She handed me yet another sketchbook. This time, I saw faces. All men, with strange expressions. Some showed pain, some fear, laughter, all very exaggerated, almost like caricatures. I kept turning pages.

"Have you figured it out yet?"

I shook my head and kept looking. Some of them looked more stupid than others, but they all looked pretty dumb to me.

"These are cum faces. Guys in the middle of an orgasm. A lot these I did from photographs, I can show them to you if you like."

"No thanks, I think you've done an excellent job of capturing the moment." I think I did a pretty good job of humoring her. "So this is her life's work," I thought. "What a waste." I felt kind of bad for her. But I was just a dumb kid; she was an artist with a vision.

Next she showed me the bedroom. She pushed me back on to the bed and put her mouth on my dick, starting one of her wonderful teasing blow jobs. After pushing me to the edge several times, she stopped long enough to tell me that she didn't want me to cum yet - she had something special planned for the next day. I told her how happy I was being teased, as long as she keeps it up. It's when the teasing stops that it really gets bad.

"I totally understand," she said, lying back and pulling my head towards her pussy. To this day, I remember hers as my favorite pussy; I've had some that came close, but never a better one. She was already excited, swollen and wet. I went slow. I wanted to tease her like she was teasing me. She enjoyed being teased as much or more than I did. I had her flowing like a river and screaming, grinding her hips and holding my head tight against her. But I held out, using the skills she'd taught me, and she couldn't quite get over the edge. She pushed me away and looked at me sideways. I grinned at her, letting her know that I knew what I was doing.

We switched places again, and she had another go at me. I was trying so hard to get enough friction to cum, but she was the master of the tease and it just wasn't going to happen. When she stopped, I cried out in frustration.

"Do you want to cum today, or wait until tomorrow?" she asked, "Tell me now. If you choose to wait, I'll help you."

Instead of speaking, I pushed her back and turned her over. I wanted her ass. I buried my face in her butt, spreading her cheeks with my hands. She suggested I might want to wait for her to clean up, but my judgement was clouded by desire. I plunged my tongue into her, deep as it would go. She yelled like a kid on a roller coaster. I kept going for a while, until my tongue was too tired to continue. I'm glad I had that experience, but I learned from it. I learned that the good parts of an ass are on the outside. The outside of a fine ass is a wonderful thing. That's really all a person needs to know about asses.

She talked about her art during dinner. I didn't hear most of what she said, but I was so infatuated with her, I could listen to her talk for days. I kept rubbing my dick. It was so hard, and I wanted so badly to cum.

"I don't think I can wait until tomorrow," I said.

"It's okay, babe, I promised to help you didn't I?" As she spoke, she stood and rummaged through a kitchen drawer.

"Yeah, I think you did," I said, watching her walk around behind me.

She started rubbing my shoulders, then asked me to stand. She took hold of my left hand and lifted it behind me. Before I could react, she snapped a pair of handcuffs on my right wrist, lifted and attached it to my left. It took a moment to get over the surprise, and I might have become angry but before I had the chance, she reached around and started rubbing my cock.

"There you go, sweetheart, that's better isn't it?" she said, caressing my erection softly. She put her mouth on my neck and started kissing me gently. I closed my eyes and moaned softly. She started rubbing my butt with her other hand. My knees buckled; I would have hit the floor but she caught me and guided me into the chair. After a few minutes I recovered enough to open my eyes and smile at her. She suggested we go into the living room.

We sat down together in the middle of the sofa. She turned on the TV and found a movie. Soon I was laying on my back with my legs over her lap, and her hands on my cock and balls. She soon had me on the edge; she knew just where to touch, how much pressure to apply. I felt delirious; my eyes were rolling around and I was moaning. More like a constant hum. She never took her hands off me. Maybe she did and I couldn't tell, my brain was pretty foggy.

The movie ended - I know because I saw the credits roll, and she suggested we go to bed. I just nodded. She walked me back to the master suite, and into the bathroom where she brushed my teeth. Amy used to brush my teeth when I was in the hospital. I hadn't thought of Amy in a long time; when I saw her face in my mind, I started to cum. In my mind, I started to cum. I think I wept a little when I realized I wasn't really cumming. Denise asked if I needed to use the toilet. I hadn't felt it until that moment, but my bladder was full.

"No need to wait all night for that to go down," she said, nodding at my erection, and stood me in her shower stall. "I'll rinse this out later." My hard-on went away while I was pissing and she shook me when I was done. I liked that part. I wasn't hard, but that doesn't mean I wasn't horny. I felt like I was in a state of shock. Not even my cock-teasing nurses, Martha and Rosie, had been able to get me this horny. 

A few minutes later I was lying on my back on Denise's bed with my hands secured to the corners of the headboard with padded cuffs. She climbed into bed with me, snuggled up to me, head on my shoulder, hand on my cock. I couldn't keep from trying to hump her hand, so she had to put the ankle restraints on me. Her naked body was pressed up against mine, and soon she was kissing me, sticking her tongue deep into my mouth. I realized she was rubbing her pussy against my hip, and it was soaking wet. I remembered not letting her cum when I ate her earlier.

I knew it was crazy when I said it, but I couldn't help myself. "You can sit on my face if you like."

She didn't waste any time climbing up and covering my mouth with her pussy. It was wet and tasty, and even though it drove me out of my head, I gave her what she wanted. After her first orgasm, I was sure she would be ready for sleep, but she hovered over my face until she'd recovered, and settled in for round two. It didn't take long, and when that was done, I asked if she wanted another. I'd discovered that having my face in her pussy provided a pretty good distraction from my own problem. After her third orgasm, she'd had enough, and settled back down with me. It didn't take her long to fall asleep. She didn't keep her hand on my dick all night; sometimes she had her knee drawn up covering it. I know I slept some, because I kept waking up. All I remember of that night is the constant desire to cum; it never let up.

The next morning, Denise put the handcuffs on me as soon as we got up. We showered together, she fed me breakfast and brushed my teeth. She even wiped my ass. I had not expected that. We took a second shower afterwards. 

Finally, she sat me down and explained why she wasn't letting me cum. Her friends were coming over at 10:30 to play the game, and she wanted to be sure she could win. She knew I loved the game, and she was right - the thought of being tied and teased by strange women was such a rush, I almost came just from the thought. I did not, however, realize just how competitive Denise was.

"Why is it so important to win?" I asked.

"It's because the winner gets to take you home overnight," she answered. "The more ready you are, the bigger my advantage, because I know you so well."

"Sounds kind of like cheating."

"No, it's allowed. Like how major league ballparks are built to suit the team. We think of it as 'home field advantage.' And don't worry, even if somebody else wins, none of my friends would hurt you. We've been doing this a long time, so I know it's safe."

She showed me the game table set up in a spare bedroom. It looked like a conference table with padded cuffs at the corners. I was nervous, and hornier than I'd ever been. Denise got dressed before her guests arrived. "Women always wear clothes to play the game," she said. She took off my cuffs, and sent me in for a cold shower to get ready for her guests.

The game is played by several women and one naked, bound man. It consists of two parts. In part one, each lady spends 60 seconds teasing the guy, trying to get him so close that the next girl will make him cum. Anyone who does make him cum is eliminated and the game continues. By agreement of the remaining players, they can switch to part 2 at any time. During part 2, whoever makes him cum is the winner. We'd played at home a few times, and each time I was made to cum several times. It is great fun. 

Soon enough, there were three more women sitting in the living room. They looked to be late-20's, close to 30 maybe. None were really hot like Denise, but they were in reasonably good shape. 

When the fourth and final guest arrived, she was not alone; she'd brought a date. He was taller than me, and you could tell he worked out. Denise had a worried look on her face, but the other three women were delighted. They all knew him already, his name was Dave, and apparently, he was a regular player. The woman he was with, Reggie, was older, maybe 40 or 45 and thin as a rail. Her face was much too wrinkled for a woman of her age, and her skin looked dried out and leathery. She had obviously been a life-long chain-smoker, and spent too many hours in the sun without sun-block.

Denise had mentioned they sometimes played with two men, but hadn't explained to me how it would work. Since she only had one table, they tied our hands to the stair rail; we would be standing side by side as we played. The ladies would go two at a time, alternating between us, and there would be two winners. Dave did weight training, you could tell by his muscles, and the ladies seemed pretty impressed with his package. I didn't notice. 

Since Reggie brought Dave, she started with him. She suggested going straight to part 2 with Dave and everyone agreed. I guess they all knew he could hold out from the start. Denise started with me; I knew I could withstand 60 seconds of her expert teasing, no matter how horny I was. What I had not counted on was Reggie and Dave. The timer started, and Denise was doing her thing, and doing it well. I was loving it. About 45 seconds in, I heard Dave let out a loud grunt, and saw him shooting cum halfway across the room, a sight that almost made me cum. I was surprised by that reaction, but managed to maintain control. Reggie was doing a strange little victory dance.

Denise stopped what she was doing and backed away, with an unhappy expression on her face. I did not understand what was happening, because I knew the rules required constant contact. Reggie walked part-way up the stairs to where our hands were tied. I was shocked when she untied my rope from the rail. I was horrified when I learned that the first winner gets her choice of prize. Denise was giving me a look of encouragement, I think it was encouragement, while Reggie untied my hands, then re-tied them behind my back.

"Come-on sweetie," she said, pushing me towards the door. "I'll have him back tomorrow by lunchtime," she said to Denise. Denise and I were both speechless. My legs wouldn't work. I was dumbfounded. Reggie looked at me and smiled, "No need to be shy, we're going to have some fun!" She pulled a length of cord out of her purse. There was a loop at one end, which she used to make a slip lead. She slipped it on to my balls and started toward the door pulling me along behind. She wasn't pulling hard - just enough to encourage me, but not enough to hurt. She was actually going to walk me naked to her car across Denise's front lawn, on a Saturday morning! I followed her out the door. 

The next-door neighbor was pushing a lawnmower across the lawn; he smiled and waved at Reggie, and she waved right back. Reggie opened the door and helped me into the front seat. She reached across to fasten my seatbelt, giving my cock a little squeeze. 

Reggie kept chattering away as she drove. I guess I had a look of complete shock on my face, because she seemed to feel the need to reassure me.

"Don't worry, sweetie, I'm not going to hurt you. Really, I won't hardly even touch you. Didn't your Aunt Denise tell you? No? I like girls. Well, I like boys too, but mostly just to look at. And play with a little. My partner Kathy is the same. Can you even talk at all?" 

So maybe she wouldn't fuck me, or make me eat her out, either. She pulled into the parking lot of a large apartment complex.

I pieced together Reggie and Kathy's story from conversations overheard that day, and later discussion with Denise. Reggie had worked at the university as a faculty advisor when Denise and her friends were there. She had provided the location for them to gather, and was part of the original group when they invented the game. She'd been bi-sexual for as long as Denise had known her, and probably most of the group had experimented with her. Eventually she lost her taste for men, for the most part. She and Kathy had been together for many years, and Kathy had come to enjoy playing with Reggie whenever she brought a prize home. I think Kathy just enjoyed the mental game of toying with the guys, but Reggie really seemed to like handling a cock every now and then. 

When we first arrived, I was a nervous wreck. Reggie had to coax me out of the car, but she never got rough with me. I had to walk naked through the parking lot, down the walk, between buildings, and up the stairs to a second floor apartment. There were a lot of people about, but everyone seemed to know Reggie. People called out, whistled, and honked their horns; Reggie called most of them by name. Everybody seemed friendly enough. We stood on the landing outside the door while she fished the key out of her purse. I hadn't even noticed that the apartment faced the pool. There were a lot of people using the pool that morning. I heard several female voices shouting up at me to turn around so they could get a look. I kept my back to them until Reggie turned me around and pushed me up against the railing. When they started cheering I looked down to see what they looked like. I regretted that immediately. They weren't all fat and ugly - some were just old and wrinkled. Nevertheless, for the first time since leaving Denise's, I got a hard-on. They really cheered me on then. There were a few men with them, laughing and having a good time. 

Having been so horny for so long, the attention was starting to feel good to me. I didn't notice when Reggie opened the door and went inside, until I heard the door slam shut. I didn't want to turn around and face a closed door, it would have been embarrassing, so I just stood there. It struck me as ironic that standing naked, bound and erect in front of a crowd was less embarrassing than getting locked out of the apartment.

They didn't leave me outside long. I think Reggie was impressed that I was able to stand there and not panic about being locked out. I was hand-fed and watered, and allowed to urinate in the bathtub before being staked out in the living room. I called it "staked out" because that's what it felt like. It was an open floor plan, with living/dining/kitchen in one big room. Kathy took a shelf down from the wall not far from the front door, revealing two eyebolts, to which my hands were bound, far enough apart to keep me against the wall. There were two eyebolts hidden behind a loose section of floorboard, so my ankles were bound as well, a little more than shoulder width. 

Kathy was Reggie's age, but much better looking, slender with short hair and good skin. She was watching TV, but kept looking over to watch Reggie, who had placed a chair next to me so she could play with my balls. Reggie ignored my dick for a long time, but kept her hand on balls, rolling them around, squeezing, pulling. She didn't hurt me, not enough to complain about anyway. I needed to cum so bad, I eventually just asked her if she would make me, or let me cum.

"How long has it been?" she asked.

I told her the truth, at least 2 days. They both chuckled. She seemed to be considering it, so I tried to convince her. I was begging. She let go my balls and wrapped her hand around my cock.

"Oh thank you so much!" I exclaimed.

She was finally stroking my cock, but it soon became clear that my orgasm was not her concern. She was fascinated with the quantity of pre-cum that I was producing. She asked my age, and I told her. "It's been a long time since we've had somebody that young here," she said. She went back to playing with my balls, reaching up to give me a stroke or two every now and then.

The doorbell rang. "Come in," Kathy said in a loud voice. I almost fainted. "Relax," Reggie told me, our neighbors are always coming over to see us." Always? That was supposed to help me relax! Reggie stood and said hello to Clara, a short, stout African American woman with oversized breasts and a Caribbean accent.

"Who we got here? A young one, that's good," the newcomer said with a laugh.

"Yeah he's young, and he hasn't cum in a couple days, so be careful," Reggie answered.

Clara approached, studying my dick appraisingly. She reach out and squeezed it a couple of times. "Very nice," she said, "Very nice." She accepted a beer from Reggie and sat down next to Kathy. 

The doorbell rang again, as it would many times that day. Several times per hour, with increasing frequency, the door opened to admit one, two, sometimes three women. Some of them stayed to visit, others just came in for a few minutes to see what Reggie had brought home. At any given time between lunch and dinner time, there were five or more women sitting around chatting and eyeing me, getting up from time to time for a closer look. 

Apparently my youth and pre-cum production capacity set me apart from Reggie's usual display pieces. All afternoon I stood there erect and dripping. Reggie warned them all not to make me cum, so they were all careful when they handled me, but they did handle me. I wish I could remember how many different sets of hands fondled me. I came so close to going over the edge, so many times.

From the conversations, I gathered that this was a regular occurrence, but when there was someone new, word spread, and more people came. Some of them asked when they were going to let me cum. Reggie's answer was usually something along the lines of, "We'll probably let him beat off tomorrow morning some time before we have to take him back."




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 05



This is part five of a multi-part series. You are encouraged to read parts 1 - 4.

*****

Part 5

Chapter 28

When Stephanie came to pick me up Tuesday, she brought a pair of red panties. I looked them over, it looked like they might fit.

"C'mon, Stephanie, I'm not into cross-dressing," I told her, "I didn't know you were."

"Look at those, no lace, no nothing. They'll look like a sexy swimsuit. Put 'em on."

I stepped in and pulled them up. They might have passed for a swimsuit, but the fabric was flimsy and stretchy. They were much more revealing and didn't support me like a swimsuit would have; I flopped all over the place when I moved. Steph and Michelle thought it was great. In the right place - on the beach or at a pool - they might not be taken for panties. I shrugged; she'd originally wanted me nude for the drive to her house. She'd won a silly game against my sisters and claimed me for a night as her prize. Sounded good to me - I was looking forward to losing my virginity, but we hadn't made any ground rules and she wouldn't tell me what she had in mind.

Stephanie's parents had been divorced a long time and her mom was out of the picture. When she turned 18, she moved in with two friends, enabling her dad to take a job in Saudi Arabia for a couple of years, but he was still paying her bills and allowance. Her roommates were both college freshmen she'd known from childhood. That made Stephanie the only high school student we knew who had moved away from home.

Stephanie ushered me over her threshold into the living room; I was surprised to see six college-aged girls sitting there. Stephanie introduced them as her two roommates, Kristin and McKenzie, and four of their friends. Kristin and McKenzie weren't going out of town after all. They were both smiling at me like we already knew each other. I felt an immediate attraction for McKenzie, beautiful wavy brown hair falling across her face covering one eye, so she was continually pushing it out of the way. Something about that seems sexy to me. It was uncanny the way her eyes matched her hair perfectly. She was slender with a beautiful round butt. Kristin wore glasses and had her black hair cut short; she was so thin she might blow away in a stiff wind. There was a slight gap between her front teeth that gave her a distinctive appearance without making her less attractive.

Stephanie introduced me as her best friend's brother, telling them I'd lost a bet and was her "personal assistant." I laughed at that, but it was a pretty good story. The girls started urging her to take my swimsuit; I started to get excited. Stephanie led me into the middle of the room, and without warning, pulled my panties to the floor. The girls clapped and whooped it up a little. My cock started rising, drawing another round of cheers. Stephanie sent me to the kitchen to get wine for everyone. I found the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the wine rack without looking at the label. After a brief search, I found wine glasses and a corkscrew.

The first two glasses went to Shelly and Chris. Shelly was short, and a little overweight, with small hands and eyes that closed every time she laughed. She was cute and full of energy; I never saw her stop smiling. She rubbed my ass and gave me a little swat as I walked away. Chris was pretty, with perfect skin, perfect make-up and perfect hair. I remember her hands, silky smooth with long fingers and a French manicure. Next I served Talia and Renee. Talia was looking at me excitedly, like she was really looking forward to the evening; I don't know what she expected. Her face showed a trace of Asian ancestry that I found captivating. Renee was the sexiest by far; not the prettiest, but her body language was all about sex.

Every time I entered the room, conversation stopped and seven sets of eyes watched me walk in. The first couple of times I was dangling and swinging. When I came in to serve McKenzie and Kristin, my erection led the way. Mac and Kris both gave my cock a little squeeze. After serving Stephanie, she sent me for snacks and another bottle of wine. I topped off the glasses and went to stand beside Stephanie. She was rubbing my ass with her right hand, occasionally squeezing my balls lightly. Conversation continued as if I wasn't there; they were talking about somebody I didn't know.

Shelly asked Stephanie to hand me over. Stephanie pushed, I walked over and stood in front of Shelly with my cock right in her face. She put her hands on me taking a good look at my cock from all angles, then guided me to her side, so she could play with my dick while she talked with her friends. She kept me there, rubbing me gently until the wine glasses needed refilling. Shelly handed me off to McKenzie, who picked up where Shelly left off. I noticed all the girls taking long glances at my dick as they talked, but Talia seemed to be focused on it. I was getting seriously turned on by her attention. McKenzie eventually passed me on over to Chris. None of them was really stroking seriously, but I felt an orgasm getting closer and closer. I wasn't planning on holding back. I tried not to let it show in my face; I wanted to surprise someone. 

When I got to Talia, she stood me in front of her face and concentrated on what she was doing. What she lacked in experience she made up for in enthusiasm. She put both hands on me, tugging at my balls, stroking my cock. The other girls noticed Talia's efforts, and stopped talking to watch. She got into a rhythm, and kept it up until my cum hit her face. She was pretty unhappy with me, so I apologized for catching her off guard. She went to clean up in the bathroom.

Renee grabbed my arm and pulled me over to her, taking my cock in her mouth. She sucked until I was hard, and kept going for a while. I think everybody was surprised, if not shocked. I never expected to get a blow job in a room full of people, but I was not complaining. I was getting close to another orgasm when she stopped, gave me a wink and a nasty smile and sent me to Kristin, who asked me to open another bottle of wine first.

The ladies were getting tipsy, and a little more aggressive with their play. Stephanie told me not to cum again without asking first. I went around the room again, this time they each kept stroking until I warned them of an impending orgasm. Renee was so good, she kept me on the edge for a long time. The pattern continued until well past midnight.

Shelly finally announced it was time for her to go home, but she wanted to see me cum again before she left. I was happy to hear that; I was so damn horny I couldn't see straight.

Stephanie pushed the coffee table into the middle of the room, telling me, "Stand right there and cum for us. Be sure to get it on the table and not the carpet."

Jerking off for a room full of ladies is a favorite fantasy of mine, and always will be, no matter how many times it happens. It didn't take long this time. I looked around the room as I stroked, at all eyes watching me. When I looked toward Renee, she made eye contact and licked her lips seductively. I couldn't hold back any longer; I think my second orgasm might have produced more cum than the first. Shelly left, followed soon by the rest of the guests.

Mac waved me over to sit on the sofa with her, while Kris moved to sit on my other side. They both had a hand in my lap, occasionally petting or squeezing my cock as we talked. Their teasing had me fully erect again pretty soon. Before long, Stephanie stood and held out her hand, leading me into her bathroom for a shower. It was my first opportunity to inspect her entire body up close, so I took my time and covered every inch. Using my tongue, I developed an intimate knowledge of her nipples. Her ass was so smooth - I checked it with my tongue, it was smooth all over - to this day I wonder how women keep their asses so smooth.

Stephanie wasn't as experienced as I thought, but we both knew the basics and between us we figured it out. My cock finally found itself in the warm, wet, velvety place it was meant to be, and was in no hurry to leave. As a soccer player, I expected Steph's legs to be strong, but her upper body strength surprised and delighted me. And her legs; when she wanted me deep, she could wrap them around and pull me in tight. The next morning we woke up early but stayed in bed until noon, just generally enjoying each other every way we could think of. We agreed to put off any kind of relationship talk until school started; I intended to get into Denise's pants, and didn't want to feel guilty about it.

Chapter 29

I was on good terms with Denise when she left. I don't know why she didn't want to be my first, but she didn't mind being my second. I spent four nights with her; she was very passionate, but always in control of her passion. She taught me a lot, but most importantly, my mate's orgasm should be my top priority. I'll always get there, it's a foregone conclusion, so I should make sure she's happy; if she's happy, everybody's happy. Once Denise was gone, Michelle and I had the house to ourselves for two full weeks before school started. Mom was still in Beijing, and Morgan moved into her dorm early along with the rest of her volleyball team.

Michelle and I spent a good portion of each day naked together, and had a hard time keeping our hands off each other. As much as I wanted her in my bed, I was still waiting until I knew she was ready. We used our fingers and tongues on each other quite often. Michelle put something on whenever her friends came over, so they wouldn't feel uncomfortable or pressured. She never asked me to dress, so I didn't. Most days, she had at least one guest. I remember that two weeks as one long sex party.

Michelle scheduled her tennis team sleepover, and we discussed it beforehand. All the seniors were coming this time, including Gabriella and Samantha, both of whom missed the swim party. They would all sleep in the upstairs game room in sleeping bags or blankets or whatever they brought to put on the floor. I asked Michelle if there was anything in particular she wanted me to do. She wanted to play Denise's game.

"How about we do it without the tying down part?" I asked.

"That's my favorite part," she replied. "Please?"

Pretty girls seemed to have some kind of power over me, I just can't resist. She asked if there was anything I wanted to do. I didn't want to tell her I was going to try and fuck as many of them as I could, so I made up something else on the spot. It was a fantasy where I'm waiting in a room, naked and blindfolded. Women come in, one at a time, for oral sex. They can come back for another turn later if they want. I'm just there to eat the pussy in front of me. I figured I could play it by ear from there.

"Damn, Stephen, that makes me wet. I think we can arrange that," she said. She wouldn't be taking a turn; she didn't want her friends knowing just how close we were.

The doorbell rang at a quarter to seven; somebody was early. I'd asked Michelle to let me open the door. I couldn't keep my erection under control, so I would just have to greet them with a hard-on. I opened the door to a stunning African-American girl with a knock-out body. She was pretty shocked, it showed on her face. She looked me up and down, settling on down.

"Hey I'm Stephen, Michelle's brother. C'mon in."

"Samantha," she said, breaking into a smile as she stepped over the threshold, "Mmmm mmmm."

She was taller than average, maybe 5'7"; her skin was a beautiful rich dark brown, and she'd put copper highlights in her shoulder-length hair. Halle Berry and Serena Williams rolled up into one incredible package. We made eye contact as we shook hands, neither letting go for the longest time. It was electrifying.

"Top of the stairs," I said.

She looked back with a seductive smile as she walked towards the staircase, dropping her eyes to my dick then back to my face before starting up.

I went to the den and collapsed into a chair, shaking from the excitement. Seven more times the doorbell rang, and I greeted each lovely young lady with a smile and a hard-on. They were all surprised, and all seemed pleased, but none were more surprised than Gabriella, the other girl whom I had not yet met. I'd lost count, and was lounging in the den when I heard my name. I didn't recognize the voice, but it didn't matter; I went upstairs to find nine hotties smiling at me.

Ashley announced, "We talked about it and decided that instead of playing the game, we're just going to compare...mmmm...techniques, if that's all right with you."

As I looked around the room at the faces my brain was just so overwhelmed, I couldn't speak. My dick was buzzing; I was sure everybody could hear it. Michelle took my arm and guided me to the pool table.

"Hop up," she said.

I complied, surprised to see padded wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs tied to the table legs.

"Where did these come from?" I asked.

"I borrowed them," Michelle answered, then leaned over and whispered, "From Stephanie."

Jennifer took the lead. She was tall yet graceful, her straight brown hair framing a very pretty face with brown eyes and a wide mouth. When she put her hands on me, I let out a long, heavy sigh. I lay on the table as one pair of hands after another either demonstrated a cock-teasing technique, or tried one out for the first time. 

The first time I came was early on, maybe the third girl to wrap her fingers around my cock. I let out a huge groan, and shot a load of cum that hit my nose, mouth and chin. It was her first time; I think it scared her a little. A sizeable puddle accumulated on my belly and chest. I saw Michelle approaching with tissues, but Jennifer shook her head with a sly smile. They were going to leave the cum on my face and body. My second orgasm was almost as explosive, enough to hit my mouth, which was open, unfortunately.

When Samantha stepped up to the table, I smiled, but was a little worried. I thought she would play rough, but she had the softest touch of them all. She had me edging very quickly, and all the other girls gathered around for a closer look at what she was doing. I had no idea what she was doing but I did not want her to stop. She edged me several times, answering questions, until they all thought they could do it. At least four of them tried it, and they all got it right. I was begging for somebody to make me cum. Chris, the quietest of the bunch, walked up and with one finger started tracing lines on my cock, in a seemingly random fashion. But she must have known what she was doing because about two seconds later I had another mind blowing orgasm. Not much cum, but it felt very intense.

I was a mess; there was quite a bit on my face, and the cum on my chest and stomach was dripping down my sides. I hadn't swallowed the cum in my mouth, and it seemed to be everywhere; I thought I would never get rid of the taste. After three times, I was pretty wiped out, but they kept going for a little while. It was a good opportunity for them to practice cock-teasing, so they took advantage.

I took a long, hot shower, after which Michelle asked if I was ready to start my "other project." I nodded. She handed me a scarf to use as a blindfold and walked me to the stairs. We'd decided to use the wingback chair in the master suite. Soon I was kneeling in front of the chair blindfolded. In a few minutes the door opened and a girl brushed against me as she took her seat.

"What should I do?" she asked. I didn't recognize the voice.

I told her to just sit back and relax, tap me on the head if what I'm doing isn't working for her, and hold me in place if it is. I lifted her knees to my shoulders and settled in. I took my time with her, and before too long she was crying out in pleasure.

"That...was...incredible," she said, panting heavily. She grabbed my head and bent down to give me a long wet kiss on the lips before rushing out.

A few minutes later, I heard a familiar voice, "Hey babe! Get that thing off your head." I stood, removing the scarf, and turned to greet Samantha. She had come downstairs in a robe, which she shed quickly, exposing that dynamite body. We embraced and I started nibbling on her neck. I don't know why we hit it off so well, but I felt like I'd known her my whole life. I told her how much I enjoyed her touch.

"Well now it's your turn," she said, taking a seat; I didn't waste any time getting started. I ate Sam until she came, then we moved to the bed. She was an animal - a predator - strong, agile and aggressive. Knowing what she wanted and how to get there, she took the lead and I didn't challenge her. After she came, I sent her back upstairs; I wasn't sure how many more times I could cum and still perform.

I took Jennifer to bed, and two others, both of whom kept me blindfolded. Sam returned for another round; I came inside her this time and that revved her engines some. Next to Sam, the other three were pretty much plain vanilla. That's not a complaint, just a description. All in all, I fucked four of the eight, and Sam twice. I made a mental note to do something nice for Michelle, I really owed her for this.

I lost count of how many times the door opened and another pussy came in. It was certainly more than eight. Apart from Sam, I'm not sure who came back for seconds. I just know I spent a long, long time with my face buried in pussy before Michelle came down and told me they were done. My tongue was sore as hell, but for the first time since Denise introduced me to it, I'd had enough pussy. I made my way back upstairs and marveled at the flesh strewn across the floor. They weren't sleeping of course, they were talking.

I saw someone beckoning to me, I think it was Caroline, or maybe Monica. She was stretched out on a quilt, covered with a light blanket. She wanted me to crawl in behind her, so of course I did. I snuggled up behind her and was surprised when my dick encountered the bare skin of her bottom. It felt so nice, as did her breast with my hand on it. I put my head on her pillow, my face in her hair, and promptly fell asleep. I somehow managed to wake up with a different girl; I had no idea who she was. 

I went to the kitchen, returning with a box of assorted juice drinks and some grocery store pastries. After distributing breakfast I collapsed in the middle of them, lying on my back, dozing while they talked. It seemed almost as though they had become oblivious to me, but at random intervals, one of the girls would use some part of my body as a pillow for a few minutes; a thigh or my tummy, or sometimes a shoulder. Her hair spilled over onto my skin in a way that felt incredibly sensual without being overtly sexy. They had become so comfortable with me, they all changed clothes while I lay there in the middle of room.

When the last girl was gone, I told Michelle I was going to schedule my own sleepover with her tennis team. I never did, though.

Chapter 30

Ashley answered the door wearing a tube top, miniskirt and no shoes. Michelle had talked me into calling her. I didn't have to take her out, according to Michelle, because she only wanted to sleep with me. I had my doubts, since she didn't take me to bed during the sleepover, but thought I'd buy her dinner anyway. I drove to her house Friday evening, feeling pretty good about my chances.

She looked hot: sun-bleached hair pulled back into a pony-tail and perfect skin with a deep tan. She had slender hips, a narrow waist and a big smile. She invited me in. I thought we'd have dinner at a restaurant on the beach, but she wanted to hang out at her house for little while. Her parents were out for the evening and she had the place to herself. She led me to a sofa in the living room. Our lips were locked before our butts hit the cushion. We made out for a few minutes, and when we came up for air, she found my erection with her hand. She was lazily tracing the outline with her fingers, while I was massaging her breasts. She had small breasts, but I couldn't hold that against her.




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 05



"Why don't you get out of those clothes," she said with a coy smile.

She knew I liked being nude. When I stood up, my cock was pushing out the front of my khaki's obscenely. I stripped without hesitation. Ashley let out a little squeal when I pushed my boxer-briefs down over my cock, causing it to rebound into my belly. She reached out for it and pulled it into her mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop. It felt sensational, but it wasn't enough to make me cum. It was enough to make me want to cum, though.

She jumped up and led me to her bedroom. We kissed again, this time with her hand on my cock. I slipped my hand under her top, but she pulled it back down before I reached the nipple.

She explained, "At the pool party, Stephanie said she likes having a boyfriend who gets naked for her without expecting anything. I want to see what that's like. Just for a little while. Please?" 

She was slowly and gently stroking my cock as she spoke. I was pretty close to cumming and knew I needed to before we fucked if I wanted to last longer than 20 seconds. But her touch put me into some kind of stupor, almost like a hypnotic trance. I would have done whatever she asked.

"Remember this?" she said, lifting her skirt to reveal a neatly trimmed pussy with sparse, wispy blonde hairs. I just can't resist a beautiful pussy, especially when it's attached to a pretty girl. I guided her backwards into a chair, kneeling and bringing my face in close, taking in the aroma of her arousal. I started licking her very lightly, and she started moaning right away. She was ready. I put my mouth over her clit and sucked on it, running my tongue all over it. She screamed, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Don't stop!" I didn't. When she climaxed, I thought her screams were going to bring the house down around us.

I wanted to cum so bad. Standing, I took Ashley's hand and put it on my cock. She wrapped her fingers around it but didn't move. She was still catching her breath. Her hand felt so good, but I really needed to cum. I started to ask her flat out for a hand job, but before I could say the words, she leapt out of the chair and said, "I'm starving, let's go to dinner now!" She moved to her vanity and started re-working her make-up. "Go on, get dressed," she said. 

I walked into the living room thinking, "Why the hell am I such a pushover. I should just take her now and get it over with." Those were my thoughts while I was getting dressed. My judgement being heavily influenced by the state of my cock, I decided to teach her a lesson by not wearing underwear. I thought maybe it would embarrass her. I pulled up my khaki's, and stuffing a partially erect penis into my pants, finished getting dressed. I tossed my underpants into a corner of her room when she wasn't watching. There was a full-length mirror in the bathroom. The outline of my semi-erect cock was plainly visible on the front of my trousers, and I could see it flopping around like a fish out of water whenever I took a step.

During the drive to the restaurant, I started wondering whether she was wearing panties. That was the answer I gave when she asked what I was thinking. She answered by turning my way and showing me her pussy. I put my hand on her inner thigh and reached for it, but it was too far away.

I had a full-blown erection when I got out of the car, but by the time we walked into the restaurant it had faded considerably. Nevertheless, Ashley observed all the attention we were getting while we waited for a table. There were already a few middle-aged couples on the list when we arrived. All the seats in the waiting area were taken and we were the only ones standing. 

Ashley became nervous about the way people were looking at us. They were basically looking either at my dick or her face, all with disapproving expressions. She clung to my arm with a grip that kept getting tighter and tighter. She was getting pretty anxious. Four guys in their twenties came in. The new guys were glancing at us, whispering and smirking. It was better than the evil eye we were getting from the older crowd, but it did not help with Ashley's anxiety.

Names were called and seats became available. Ashley hurriedly pulled me to an empty space on a bench and we sat down. When she crossed her legs at the knee, two of the older gentlemen seated across from us went into coughing fits. Both wives whispered crossly to their husbands. Ashley was so nervous, she'd forgotten she wasn't wearing underpants; the skirt was really too short for sitting anyway. One of the younger guys was facing us; he looked at me and nodded knowingly, then spoke to the rest of his party. All three turned and looked up Ashley's skirt. It was painfully obvious from their reactions that they could see all the way. She uncrossed her legs, but that just made it worse. Ashley was pressed up against me as close as she could get. I think she was nearly in tears; she knew her pussy was exposed and she did not care too much for that. Putting my arm around her shoulders, I gave her a reassuring smile, but I don't think she was reassured.

Finally we were seated at a booth. I started to take the seat across from Ashley, but she pulled me in beside her. She was still pretty upset. She put her hand into my lap and found my cock, letting her fingers dance across it, sometimes rubbing, sometimes tapping. As it grew, she became increasingly aware that I, like herself, was not wearing underpants. Anxiety gave way to anger. Remembering the boxer briefs I was wearing at her house, she knew I'd embarrassed her on purpose. She was, of course, ignoring the fact that she'd flashed her own beaver. Suddenly she relaxed; a little too suddenly. I worried she'd decided to get even. That would not be easy, since I could have comfortably walked out of the place buck naked. At least, I believed I could have.

We had a very nice meal and good conversation, but her assault of my cock was relentless throughout. I considered myself lucky I didn't cum in my pants. I could have walked out buck naked, but would have been uncomfortable wearing cum-stained trousers. After dessert, she excused herself to the ladies room. It was the first respite I'd had all evening, and I was grateful for the chance to relax. 

She had been gone a long time, too long, when my phone signaled an incoming text. It was from Ashley; she was in the foyer waiting for me. As soon as I climbed out of the booth, I saw the couple sitting at the nearest table staring at me in disbelief. At that moment I felt the wetness at my crotch. I had a pre-cum stain the size of Nebraska on the front of my pants, centered on the head of my plainly visible semi-erect cock. I had to smile at Ashley's perfectly executed plan. I took a deep breath, held my head up, back straight, and walked toward the door leaving shocked diners in my wake. I thought I saw a self-satisfied look on Ashley's face.

When we got to the car, I invited her to my house. She gave me a very sweet smile and said simply, "okay." I told her I had a great time in the restaurant. She didn't answer; instead she leaned over the center console and reached into my lap, fondling my cock through my trousers again. I don't know why I didn't just tell her to wait until we got home. This time she was pressing hard and doing full strokes up and back. I didn't even realize until it was too late, she was trying to make me cum in my pants. She succeeded. If she thought I would be annoyed, she was mistaken.

"Uh-oh, looks like you had an accident," she said with a smile. I was breathing too hard to respond. 

"Let's just go back to my house," she said, "my parents won't be home until really, really late."

I considered begging her for sex, but having just climaxed, didn't feel the need at the moment. I turned toward Ashley's house. We were a few blocks away when I heard heavy breathing and quiet moaning from the seat next to me. I knew what was happening without looking. When we stopped at a red light near the house I turned to watch. She was rubbing her clit and making a sound like a cat in heat. The light changed to green and back to red again before she climaxed. Luckily no one was behind us.

The smell of pussy filled the car. I was damn glad I had leather seats; I would never have gotten that smell out of fabric.

Chapter 31

My sisters and I found it somewhat strange when Mom accepted our full-time nudity without a word. She returned from Beijing on a Sunday, so Morgan was able to join us. The three of us came downstairs together stark naked. She was surprised, to say the least. When we hugged, she held on longer than a normal hug, putting her arms around my waist and drawing me in tight.

For the first few days, Mom was a little unnerved by our nudity, but eventually grew accustomed to it. One thing I had not expected was the way she couldn't keep her eyes off my dick. In conversation, she looked me in the eye while she was speaking, but listened to me while staring at my crotch. That made conversations with Mom very interesting, because my cock was in a constant state of flux, rising and falling, depending on how focused I was on the conversation.

That first week she was home, the week school started, she asked me into the study for a chat. She was sitting at her desk, the chair swiveled around to face me. There was another chair in the room, but I decided to remain standing. We made small talk for minute or so before she totally shocked me by asking why my penis rose and fell during our conversations. When I realized I was going to stand there nude and talk to this sexy woman about my cock, I immediately became fully erect. She smiled when she saw it stand up so quickly.

I decided to come clean. "When you look at my penis, I get an erection. When I'm concentrating on the conversation it goes soft."

"Are you saying that I make you hard? And why isn't it soft right now?"

"Yes you do make me hard, when you look at my penis. Right now, we're talking about it, so, it will probably stay hard."

She was eyeing my dick like it was a piece of chocolate candy. I walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, putting my erection within easy reach. I felt like I had to let her take the lead. We were related only by marriage, but she had raised me from the age of six. Because I didn't remember her from before the accident, to me she was merely one of the sexiest women on the planet. I figured she might still think of me as her child.

I didn't tell her I got an erection whenever any female looked at my dick. I wanted her to feel special. She reached out her hand tentatively, then drew it back.

"It's okay Mom, go ahead," I said encouragingly.

"In this room, I want you to call me Virginia."

I think I knew what she meant. "Go ahead, Virginia,"

She reached out again, this time wrapping her hand around my cock. I leaned back, closed my eyes and whispered, "Yes." She wasn't stroking so much as feeling it. Squeezing here or there, running her fingertips around the crown and over the top.

"You have no idea," she said in a whisper. She turned her chair to face me so she could use her other hand to feel my balls, rolling them around in her palm, squeezing gently. When she began to lean in towards me, I almost came just from the thought of my dick in her mouth, but all she did was press it against the side of her face. She began to rub her face on it, sometimes kissing my pelvis when her mouth came into contact with me. It was an incredible sensation, and I was getting close to the edge.  

"Um, Virginia," I wanted to give her fair warning, but it was unnecessary - she knew what was going on. She released me and sat back in the chair.

"I want to watch you do it," she said.

She didn't have to ask me twice, nor did she have to wait long. The sight of her gorgeous eyes watching me jerk off pushed me right over the edge, and with a loud groan I came hard, shooting my cum halfway across the room. Three, maybe four times - it was a big load. I relaxed and slumped back against the desk. Virginia put her arm around my butt and leaned her head against my hip. She took my cock in her other hand, just fondling it gently. It was so totally unexpected; it made me think she would be open to more, but I didn't want to push it.

"It's been a long, long time since I've had a naked man in the house," she said. "I know it turns you on to be nude around women, even your relatives. It's not unusual - your father was the same way."

She went on to talk about how he used to walk around naked when Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Peggy were visiting. I could hardly believe it. She said he would strut around like a peacock while Liz and Peg howled with laughter and made rude comments. The aunts were always handling him whenever they got close enough.

"My sisters told me they wanted to watch him jerk off. I told them it was fine with me, but I didn't want to be in the room. It would have felt weird, my husband and sisters." They asked him every time they came over and he always agreed. I immediately started wondering when the aunts were coming for another visit.

With Morgan away at college, Michelle and I had the upstairs to ourselves. Tennis and soccer kept her pretty busy - she generally didn't get home until a couple of hours after I did. We settled into a routine right from the start. I was usually studying when she got home. She started stripping the minute she walked in, and was nude by the time she got upstairs.

"Could I ask you for a favor?" she asked every day, as if she ever had to ask. Letting her have the chair, I knelt and started licking her. She would have showered first had I asked, but I didn't mind; the ripeness was a little off-putting at first, but by the third day I was beginning to enjoy it. Acquired taste, I guess. I always started slow and built her up gradually, taking her to the edge several times before finally pushing her over the top. Some days that was enough, others she kept her seat for another round. Every two or three days, she came back after her shower and dropped to her knees. She was becoming a damn good cocksucker.

Virginia called me into her study as soon as she got home from work nearly every day. Most of the time we repeated the first session - she fondled me for a while then asked me to masturbate for her. But every once in a while she gave me a long, teasing hand job that rivaled, maybe even exceeded, Denise's. I wondered how long it would be before she opened her legs to me. I figured I had plenty of time.

Chapter 32

"If you pass the finals, I'll give you credit for Advanced Physics and Calculus, as long as Mrs. Marshall and Miss Berretta agree. We can move you to fourth period American Lit and your school day will be over at 12:30."

I was in the guidance counselor's office at school, sitting across a desk from Mrs. Bradly, a rail-thin African-American woman with silver hair. Everybody said she was easy to get along with, and they were right. During the second week of the school year, I found I was skating through two of my toughest subjects, and wanted out. It would lighten my homework load considerably, and my school day would end two and a half hours earlier. I had considered asking to test out of all my subjects, but knew that if I didn't attend school I'd have to get a job.

The doctors said I would retain much of what I had learned before the accident, even if I couldn't remember learning it. It was strange, discovering I could solve differential equations. As soon as I started working the first problem, it all came flooding back. It was the same with most subjects.

I spoke to Mrs. Marshall after class, and she readily agreed to let me take the Physics final. I planned to hire a tutor to cover what I'd missed. Miss Berretta was not so agreeable. She was known as the most hard-assed teacher at the school, ruling her class with an iron fist. I met with her at the end of the school day, in her empty classroom. She was sitting behind her desk looking at me thoughtfully. When she removed her glasses and softened her expression, she was almost pretty. The lines on her face were not even noticeable until you got close. She had a figure the boys liked to talk about. We called her "Boom-boom Berretta," but not to her face. She hated it.

Boom-boom Berretta was old by my standards, maybe over 50. She might have been pretty once, before the wrinkles surrounded her eyes. Her blonde hair was going gray, and she'd hadn't decided whether to keep it blonde or go with silver. We couldn't tell how long it was; she kept it pulled back severely, in a bun on the back of her head. Her hour-glass figure was top-heavy by a pretty good margin. We figured she must work out to stay in shape. She always wore tailored suits, with a skirt, jacket and white blouse.

I was practically begging, using all of my persuasive skills to coax her into letting me test out of her class. Finally she reached a decision. "I will go along under one condition. I will be your tutor. That's the only way I can be sure you've learned the material." she said. "It won't be as easy as you think. We'll start with two hours a day, three days a week and see how that goes."

I was okay with that. Surely she wouldn't be as stern in a tutoring session as she was in the classroom. It was a big commitment of time, but I just wanted out. She scribbled her address on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "We can start Friday. Come to my house at seven and expect to be there until nine. Don't be late."

"Yes, Ma'am." I walked out of there thinking, "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

Seven o'clock Friday evening, I rang Miss Berretta's doorbell. It was a bigger house than I expected. She answered and invited me in, still smartly dressed in her suit. We sat together at her dining room table and started right in. After about an hour, she assigned a couple of problems for me to work on, then closed the book, saying she had a serious matter to discuss.

"Stephen," she said, "There's been talk about you at the school. They say you're not as shy as you used to be, before your accident."

"That's what they tell me. I don't remember."

"Yes. They also say you like to go around without any clothes on. Is that true?"

"Only at home."

"In your home, but it doesn't matter who else is there. They say you like to be nude around women."

I kept quiet. I was starting to worry that somebody had complained about me, that I was in trouble or something.

"I'll take your silence as agreement. Well, you think about it. It's your decision. I'll test you out of my class if you attend the tutoring sessions in the nude."

I was so shocked, I'm sure my mouth fell open. I studied her face for a few minutes. She looked serious. I almost told her to go to hell; I didn't like my teacher coercing me like that. After a few seconds of silence, I realized I had an erection. I started thinking, "Why not give the old lady a thrill? It might even be fun."

She continued, "It means you will have to strip as soon as you walk through my door, and stay that way until it's time for you to leave. Oh, and this arrangement stays between us. Now, I want you to finish working those problems, and come find me in the den when you're done. Make sure you undress first."

She walked out, leaving me to make my decision. I decided to work on the problems first; I was finished in about ten minutes. Then without thinking, I stripped quickly and took my work into the den.

She was sitting in an easy chair watching television when I came in. She paused the TV and pointed to the sofa; I handed her my answer sheets and sat down. She didn't say anything about my nudity. I began to wonder if I should have thought it through a little better. What else had she heard about? I might have started down a slippery slope. On the one hand, she was my calculus teacher, not to mention old; on the other hand, it was Boom-boom Berretta. Could I really pass that up?




Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 05



She came to sit close beside me, very close; in fact her hip was pressed against mine. I could not stop my cock from getting hard. She pointed out a couple of errors in my work before setting the paper aside. Smiling broadly, she sat there for maybe two full minutes staring at my erection. It was a big smile, the kind she never used at school. I leaned my head back, keeping an eye on her face. Her hand fell heavily into my lap, and a moment later began to feel my cock - just feeling it - touching, squeezing, pinching, moving it around. Closing my eyes, I admitted to myself that it felt pretty good.

Monday night, I undressed in the foyer without being asked. She seemed to enjoy having me there naked. She especially enjoyed the way she could give me an erection just by staring at my cock. She spent about an hour tutoring, leaving her a full hour to play with my cock. 

Wednesday, as I feared, she escalated the terms of the deal. Halfway through the cock play portion of the evening, she told me to play with myself. I was happy to, but I wanted to hear her ask for it by name. When I pretended not to understand, she got a little frustrated.

"Masturbate!" she said finally, "I want to see you masturbate."

I did as she asked. There was a box of tissue in the room, which I used to catch my sperm; I couldn't see myself staining any of her things. She still had some time on the clock after I came, so I sat back down so she could play with me some more.

The next session, Friday of week two, I entered the den for the second half of the session to find her dressed in a bathrobe, legs crossed at the knee. I really wanted to see those legendary tits, I just did not know how far I was willing to go.

"There's been more talk about you at school, Stephen," she said, holding her robe closed at the knee demurely, "They say you have developed a certain talent for..."

She paused; my cock was hard as it had ever been. There's something about a math teacher requiring her pussy eaten in exchange for a favor; it seems nasty, seedy, and very exciting. I decided to play along with her little fantasy.

"Yes, Miss Berreta?" I asked with as much innocence as I could muster. She was upping the ante every session; what could possibly be next?

I could tell she was hot, and getting hotter by the second. I saw the perspiration on her neck. Her face was flush with excitement.

"...a talent for...pleasing others," she said, letting her robe fall open to the waist, exposing her legs.

She had great legs, I was actually astonished. She also seemed to have a flair for drama. She held out her hands and I took them, standing right in front of her. She uncrossed her legs and pulled my hands toward the floor. I was hesitant, knowing I was going to do it, but unsure of whether I really wanted to. She was older than my mother! She started to spread her legs and slide forward in the seat, until her pussy was revealed. It was shaved! Boom-boom Berretta shaved her freaking pussy. I suddenly had a brainstorm.

"I'll do it," I said, looking at her pussy, "If you promise me an 'A' on the final exam, two weeks from today, I'll...go down on you...every session until then." Tutoring sessions were scheduled to last three more weeks. I knew she had padded the time, probably double what was required, planning all along to exploit me for her own sexual pleasure. When I think about it like that, I like the sound of it.

She was restless with anticipation; she literally looked hungry. "You'll...go down on me...every session for the next three weeks, and you have to earn your 'A.'"

"Excuse me from your class now, and give me an 'A' on the final in two weeks, and I'll go down on you every day until then."

"Did you know that I have the authority to change your grade any time until the end of the current school year? I could still keep you from graduating, even after you get a passing grade from me. So I'll give you the test tomorrow and guarantee you an 'A,' but you have to go down on me every day from now until Thanksgiving."

I didn't know if she really had that authority, but if I found out she didn't, I could quit right away. I offered her until Halloween, but she turned me down.

"What if one of us gets sick or goes out of town?" I asked.

"You'll have to do a make-up session."

I thought about it, but it was way too much. I was better off with the deal I had; three more weeks, and trust my intellect to pass the test. She spoke up before I had a chance to give her my answer.

"Do you know something, Stephen," she said, "I don't think so. I want you to go down on me daily until Thanksgiving, but you still have to pass the test in three weeks. That's the deal. Either take it or stay in my class all year. In fact, I need you to do me right now, so I'll know whether you're worth it."

I thought about it. It was nearly sixty days until Thanksgiving. If I failed the test I would be off the hook. I decided to go ahead and eat her now, to see whether I could tolerate it before making a final decision. Without speaking, I put my hands on her knees and pushed them apart. She gasped audibly, and started breathing heavily. I slowly leaned in towards her, easing her knees onto my shoulders. Her cunt was moist, but not as wet as I was used to. I did it, I ate her out. It took a long time, but she was quite vocal the whole time and very loud at the end. It wasn't repulsive, but I did have to take my time because she wasn't naturally lubricated very well.

Sitting back to catch my breath, I noticed she was as limp as a wet noodle. It was five minutes before she could even speak. There was no telling how long it had been since her last orgasm. She told me if I did that to her every day for two weeks, she would guarantee my 'A,' but I still had to study and take the test, and of course, continue providing daily oral sex until Thanksgiving. I asked about weekends and holidays.

"Take weekends and holidays off," she answered, still caught up in the wave of the orgasm she'd just experienced. That knocked at least fifteen days off.

"And if, for some reason, I don't make it all the way to Thanksgiving, you'll really fail me?"

"No, you'll get the grade you actually earn. But you won't know what it is."

I realized that if I made a legit 'A,' I'd be wasting a lot of time in Boom-boom's pussy. On the other hand, it couldn't get any worse, even if she'd wanted me to fuck her. I noticed that her robe had fallen open. She had a surprisingly flat tummy for a woman her age, but what caught my attention were those legendary tits. They were huge all right, and sagging pretty badly; she must have had some kind of super wonder bra. We still had to work out the scheduling. It would be convenient if we could find someplace at school to do it. Luckily we only lived two or three miles apart.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Marshall recommended a physics tutor. Thankfully she did not want the job herself. She had written the name down for me, "Kristin Stewart" along with a phone number. I remembered the Kristin I already knew; it would be quite a coincidence if Stephanie's roommate turned out to be my physics tutor. She did turn out to be Stephanie's Kristin. 

Kristin came to the house for our first meeting. Until the last minute, I was undecided on whether to get dressed for her. I put off the decision until it was too late, and answered the door naked. Even though she knew I was full-time nude at home, she was still a little taken aback. We looked at the material together, and she figured we could cover it with a couple of one-hour sessions a week. We both had Tuesday and Thursday nights free, so we agreed on seven o'clock at her place. 

I decided in advance that if Kristin asked me to stay naked during our sessions I'd refuse. When I arrived for the first session, the first thing she did was ask if I wanted to undress. I could not stop myself. Sometimes it was just the two of us, but usually Stephanie and McKenzie were there. Kristin did not insist on an hour of cock-teasing following every tutoring session. She did, however, invite me into her bed every once in a while. She was very skinny, but moved like a gymnast.

My after-school schedule for the first few weeks was worked out: study, eat Michelle, occasionally get a blow job, masturbate for Virginia or the occasional hand job, naked tutoring, occasionally fuck Kristin, and end every day by going down on my 50-year-old calculus teacher, Miss Boom-boom Berretta. I had to pinch myself every day to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

To be continued



Life on the Edge of Orgasm



By the way, it was the adoption that prevented Dad's family from taking me back to New Jersey following his death. I made a mental note to thank Virginia for that. 

Chapter 3

Dr. Levinson, for some reason, wanted to see if I could regain some memories before seeing my family for the first time (I didn't), so she kept them waiting for three days before allowing them to visit. On the appointed day, I heard a knock on the door and watched three very attractive women walk into the room. 

One was older than the others, tan, trim, blonde, amazing figure and very pretty, a lot like Nicole Kidman. The other two were about my age, both athletic and good-looking. Morgan was tall and slender, a real hardbody, like a volleyball player (which she was). Michelle, a brunette with beautiful long hair, was more compact; soft where it counted, but lean and strong, a tennis and soccer player with nice hips, a cute round butt, and an amazing pair of breasts. Both were pretty; Morgan with her sculpted cheeks, short blonde hair and long shapely legs could have been a model, and Michelle with softer features and bedroom eyes was a real beauty.

Rationally, I knew they were my mom and sisters; but I'd never laid eyes on them before. They saw me as family, but I immediately felt a strong sexual attraction to all three of these beautiful women. Because I had lived my whole life, as it were, on the edge of orgasm, and as my balls had been constantly crying out for relief, literally for as long as I could remember, the sight of these three lovelies produced an immediate, full erection which I think reached all the way to my belly button and beyond. 

Virginia of course made a beeline for my bed, arms outstretched, big smile on her face, she leaned over and gave me a big hug, holding me close, those beautiful firm breasts pressed against my body; my cock was so hard, I thought it would break out of its skin. 

It was a truly magnificent moment, but the next moment was even more magnificent. She pulled back from her hug, perched her lovely ass on the edge of the bed, and casually put her left hand on my stomach. My lower stomach. She did not expect to find my cock there, but her hand sure found it.

The result was the most profoundly intense orgasm in the history of the universe. God, it felt so damn good! I moaned; no it was more of a groan, or a cry really, a kind of prolonged cry of ecstasy. But in the context of the moment, Virginia heard it as a cry of pain, and believing herself to be the cause, jumped off the bed, fumbling for the nurse call button and apologizing hysterically.

Meanwhile, I was shooting weeks' worth of stored cum, shot after shot into the sheets. Because of my hip injury, I couldn't get a good pelvic thrust going; the best I could manage was sort of thrashing around a little. It probably looked like I was writhing in pain. Oh how I longed to grab my cock and finish the job properly! As I began to settle down, semen started soaking through the sheets. If Virginia realized what actually happened, she didn't acknowledge it. The nurse, hearing the commotion over the intercom, rushed in quickly. 

I'm not sure how my family felt about our "first meeting," but I was ready to declare total victory. I shall remember that orgasm forever.

Wanda, whom I'd not met before, was the nurse who responded to the call. She was all right, middle aged and plump, but a great temperament and good sense of humor. She had been on the job a long time and seen it all, so even though it was an embarrassing situation, she put me at ease pretty easily. One look at the sheets and she knew exactly what had happened and why; teenage boy unable to masturbate for weeks on end. She knew I'd have a hair trigger and virtually no control. 

In fact she said all this to me as she rolled up the stained sheet and started the cleanup. It was a real mess, cum all over my stomach and most of my chest, and of course, my privates. 

I said, "It's kind of embarrassing when your mom makes you..." I paused, unsure of the proper terminology in this context. 

Wanda provided the word, "ejaculate." 

"Yeah, ejaculate." The two of us talking about ejaculation struck us both as funny, and we had a pretty good laugh over it. 

Wanda was taking special care to clean my penis and balls very thoroughly. I think she was enjoying herself, and I was fine with that. She took my half-hard dick in her hand and started to squeeze from the base up to the head, milking all the remaining cum out of my cock. She was handling it probably a bit more than medically necessary, and it started to stiffen up. 

Damn it felt so good, I thanked her. For every stroke, I just said "oh, thank you." My dick kept getting bigger and harder until I had another full blown erection. 

Up to that point we were having a nice conversation. Nice lady, but I wouldn't have been the least bit attracted to her, were it not for her hands on my genitals. Funny how that works. As we spoke, Wanda was kind of absent-mindedly stroking me lightly with her fingertips. It felt fantastic, and I was really hoping for a hand job, but I didn't say anything for fear of spoiling the moment. She suddenly realized what she was doing, and her face flushed with embarrassed. She became very business-like, changing the linens, checking IV's and the machines, until she was satisfied that everything was as it should be. Meanwhile I had a good head-start on another case of blue balls.

Once Wanda had me all situated, she sent my family back in. The remainder of the visit was a little awkward, like we were in two different conversations. For them, I was the brother/son just awakened from a coma following a fatal traffic accident. They were naturally overjoyed that I was alive and awake, but not quite sure how to handle the amnesia. As for me, I was meeting 3 total strangers for the first time; three totally hot strangers, all of whom would soon be my housemates. 

I'd decided to call Virginia "Mom" from the get go, whether or not I actually meant it. I did feel a special closeness to her, partly because she was responsible for my very first orgasm (at least, the first I could remember), and partly because she was just so damn hot. So yeah, I pretty much loved her right from the start, although probably not the kind of love she was expecting. She kept her distance for the remainder of that first visit, being a bit unnerved by the "hand-job incident," as I liked to think of it. My sisters were really very nice, but the incident had also made them pretty nervous.

As they were leaving, Mom casually remarked that Lydia would be coming by tomorrow after school, and how excited she would be to see me. My blank expression reminded her that I wouldn't have a clue who this "Lydia" is.

She explained, "You and Lydia have been dating for about two months now, and she really likes you; do please try to be kind, even though I know you won't recognize her." My first thought was, "Yes! I've got a girlfriend." Then it hit me, I had no idea just where our relationship stood.

Chapter 4

That night, Nurse Martha came in and introduced herself, not realizing I already knew who she was. We traded some small talk, then I decided to drop the bomb. 

"I remember the last time you were in here; that was the night I woke up."

"No Honey, that was a dream. People always dream weird stuff when they start coming up out of a coma."

"I know your two rules." I thought that would get her attention.

"Like I said, sweetie-pie, you been having a lot of weird dreams." Remarkably cool under pressure.

"I heard you tell Rosie."

Now she just looked at me without speaking, her face a blank slate. Seconds ticked by. 

I broke first, playing my hole card, "The rules are, don't get in trouble, and don't make 'em cum."

She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, but still wouldn't speak.

I said, "It's ok, don't worry, I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Pretty sure you can't get me in trouble." Calm as a Hindu cow. This lady was unflappable.

"That's good. Because I like you, you're a nice lady, I really don't want you to get in trouble." I know I sounded sincere, because I really was sincere; I would get no enjoyment from seeing her disciplined. 

She kept eyeing me, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. No doubt she figured I was going to ask for some kind of sexual favors. I'd thought this through. I figured if I made a report, it could easily be dismissed as a dream. But I knew I wasn't the only coma patient she'd serviced; an investigation might turn up more violations, or at best, they might start watching her a little more closely. That would surely interfere with her little fetish. I knew she was smart enough to know all that. So while I did have some leverage on her, it wasn't a great deal of leverage. 

Several minutes of silence passed between us, each eyeing the other. I made a mental note never to play cards with Martha.

Finally she spoke. "Go on," she said. I knew that meant I'd won; all that remained was negotiating the price.

"I know you don't like cum, and you don't like men who beg or make demands. I'm okay with all that. I'm not asking for more than you were already doing. Just keep doing it." 

At that moment, Rosie entered the room. She hesitated a moment, feeling the tension in the atmosphere.

She started to introduce herself, but Martha interrupted, saying, "Oh, you two met already, last time we were in here." It took a minute for that to sink in, then Rosie's eyes widened. 

"Oh, shit," she said. "Please don't get me in trouble," she pleaded, "I really need this job." Practically throwing all her cards on the table right up front. In a poker game, Martha would totally have cleaned her out in no time flat. 

Martha filled Rosie in on our conversation so far. Rosie was confused; she asked, "You mean, you want a hand job, but you don't want us to, you know, finish you off?" 

I nodded. 

Martha didn't trust me; she tried to call my bluff. She knew how embarrassing that report would be, if nobody believed me. "Won't be long, you'll be wanting more," she said, "Might as well make that report now and get it over with." 

"Wait!" Rosie was frantic; she knew her job was not nearly so secure as Martha's. "Please don't report me, I'll do anything." After a brief pause she added, "Everything," lowering her eyes and hanging her head. 

I realized she meant what she said; she was offering herself to me without limits. It's not a bad feeling, that kind of power, but it didn't really appeal to me at that moment. 

"No," I said, "Like I told Martha, nothing more than you've already done." Martha was still skeptical.

I explained my discovery that, when you want to cum, NEED to come so badly, if you concentrate, it begins to feel like one long extended orgasm. While not nearly as intense as the orgasm that accompanies ejaculation, it can happen over and over, and last a long, long time. I wasn't nearly so articulate at the time; I don't remember my exact words, but I wasn't getting my point across. Then I told them about my earlier accidental orgasm, how utterly earth shattering it was. 

"And you don't have to worry about that part," I said, "I found out today that I have a girlfriend!" 

"Lucky girl," said Rosie, "bet she's pretty." 

"I couldn't say, I haven't met her yet. So, how about it? Do we have a deal?" 

Martha said, "Let's go over this again; you don't report us, and we tease your willie?" 

"It has to be every night, or at least, whenever you have a shift. As often as you were doing it before. As much teasing as I can stand, plus some," I replied.

"And if you so much as hint at anything more, we walk away and never touch you again."

"Agreed." 

I figured Rosie would get me off; after all, I heard her tell Martha how much she enjoyed it. Without another word, Martha lowered the sheet and started to raise my gown. 

"Just a second," I said. 

She paused, "What now?" 

"I want my hands restrained." 

Martha and Rosie looked at each other and nodded, some unspoken understanding passed between them. 

"Kinky," said Rosie, as they began strapping my arms to the bed. I was so hard by this time. I mean, how could I not be? Martha oiled up her hands and began to stroke slowly, deliberately. I just sighed. 

After a few minutes she stopped, saying, "We still have other patients to care for, but we'll be back to check on you later." 

After a little while, Rosie came in alone, pulled the sheet back slowly, and stared at her prize for a minute or two. She started playing with it, touching it lightly at times, gripping with all her strength at others. She started rubbing the underside with two fingers, fast. I was approaching orgasm. "She's decided to make me cum!" I thought happily. Just as I was reaching the peak, she stopped, pulled her hands away, and watched my cock twitching like crazy. She really got a kick out of that. She started handling my balls, touching lightly then randomly squeezing down hard with her thumbs, causing me to gasp. After a few minutes of that game, she clamped down and started increasing the pressure. When my eyes grew wide and I started groaning, she squeezed just a little harder, then let go suddenly and gave my cock 3 or 4 hard, fast strokes. 

Once again, I thought she was going to let me come, but instead she just laughed at my twitching cock and said, "Sorry, got work to do," and hurried out the door.

All night, Martha kept coming in every couple of hours to check my vitals and slowly stroke my cock, expertly stopping just when I thought I was going over the edge. Rosie always followed after 15 or 20 minutes, playing with me, edging me repeatedly, and seeing just how hard she could squeeze my balls before I spoke up. Just before their shift ended, they came in together and teased me to one more edge before releasing my restraints. God how I wanted to jerk off, but both hands in casts, I could only barely touch myself with the tips of my fingers. That pretty much describes most every night for the remainder of my stay. I began to think of Martha and Rosie as the "Cock Teasing Crew."

Chapter 5

Mom came in early the next morning, before going to work. She was some kind of high-powered Executive Vice President and man! She could make a business suit look s-e-x-y. She came over for a hug, leaned over and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close and smashing her breasts against me. I hugged her right back, holding her close for as long as she would stay. I noticed she avoided touching my stomach this time.

Soon Amy arrived for my sponge bath. My dick was rock-hard the whole time; I thought I should be embarrassed, but I just wasn't. I liked being naked with her, but decided it was best not to say so. Amy was nice, but professional and business-like. When she soaped up my dick, I gasped whenever she hit the sensitive spots.

"Sorry," she said. 

"It's ok," I replied, "it doesn't hurt, but I am a little sensitive right there." 

"I'll be careful."

Finally, late in the afternoon, the door opened and a young lady about my age came in. I knew from the look on her face, this was Lydia. Now, I don't want to be unkind, but my first reaction was, "I surely could have done better." I managed to hide my disappointment, I'm pretty sure. She was skinny as a rail, no breasts to speak of, big librarian glasses and a nose only a mother could love. I thought, "She must give one hell of a blow job, for me to be with her." Shallow, I know, but this was new territory for me. 

We started talking, mostly about mundane stuff; she seemed ill at ease, not at all like a girl whose boyfriend had just rejoined the ranks of the living. No hug, no kiss, not even trying to hold hands. And it's not like I enjoy sympathy or anything, but I did think that a girlfriend would be at least a little bit sympathetic. I began to think something might be wrong with her, which said a lot about my former self.

Finally I said, "Lydia, you know I've lost a lot of memories." 

"Yes, they told me that."

"So I don't know, what sort of, you know, how far along...our relationship..."

"Well, we had only just agreed to be exclusive, really." 

"I was kind of wondering about the...physical aspects..."

She blushed, deeply, it really embarrassed her. But I pressed on, I couldn't help it, my poor blue balls were very insistent. 

"It's just that," I began, "you know, I don't have use of my hands, you know." 

She gave me a blank look. Clueless. 

I continued, "I can't use my hands for anything, and it's been such a long time since...I could use my hands..." She still wasn't getting it. "I can't use my hands, and its causing a bit of a problem, I was thinking maybe I could ask you for help." I could tell she was trying, but just not understanding. 

"I can call for your nurse," she offered. 

"Oh no, I mean, thanks but the nurse can't help with this." 

"Of course I'll do whatever I can, just tell me what you need," she said. 

Okay, now at last we're getting somewhere. But she continued just sitting there with a questioning look on her face. She STILL wasn't getting it. At least, I had the answer to my question about our physical relationship. But I was desperate, and decided what the heck, you'll never get what you need if you don't ask. 

"I need you to pull back the sheet for me, please," I told her. She stood and slowly pulled the sheet down to my waist. "At least down to my knees, Hon." She smiled when I called her "Hon," and peeled the sheet on back. Now there's no way that hospital gown was hiding the fact of my erection, it was so obvious, but Lydia seemed oblivious. 

"What else can I do for you, sweetie?" she asked. 

"If you don't mind, would you please pull this gown up?"

"Of course," she replied as she grasped the hem and peeled it back to about my knees. 

"A little more, please, babe," I told her. She complied, we're up to mid-thigh. Finally I just asked her, "Lydia would you please just lift it all the way up?"

She gave me a strange look, and I could see the light bulb going on in her head. She blushed again, a deep crimson red. 

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, laughing a sort of nervous giggle. 

"Please?" I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes. 

She took a deep breath and drew my gown up, exposing all my goods. Her eyes got big as saucers and her jaw just about hit the floor. She studied my cock, bending over for a closer look, for maybe two full minutes. 

"I've never seen one of those before," she said softly. But her demeanor changed suddenly as she became indignant. "Stephen Wood, if you think I'm going to touch that thing...," at a loss for words, she just turned on her heel and walked out. Leaving me exposed, I might add. Luckily, my hands were no longer bound so I could cover up. I guess that was the end of our relationship. But she knew what was under my gown when she pulled it up, so she was hardly blameless.

Chapter 6

My daily routine was established, with the Cock Teasing Crew getting me worked up all night, Mom coming by before and after work, and a sponge bath every morning after breakfast. It was nearly always Amy, and I really looked forward to it. The tension in my balls was really starting to mount. The doctors came in on their rounds at seemingly random times, and I had some procedure just about every day, like x-rays or physical therapy, so it wasn't really all that boring. Mom brought in a laptop, which was really cool, but I knew the hospital servers would block porn, and record all my google search terms, so I had to get along without pornography. 

The real problem was that I could not jack off because of the casts on my hands, and relief was nowhere in sight. I mentioned it to Rosie one night, remembering what she'd told Martha. In response, she said nothing, but took her hands off my cock, grabbed my balls and pulled them away from my body roughly. She pulled a tourniquet out of her pocket, the kind they use to draw blood, bound my balls up tight with it, and grabbed my cock, squeezing hard. I thought she was going to use some kind of exotic technique to give me a more explosive orgasm. 




Life on the Edge of Orgasm



Instead she spoke, "Now you know what Martha said about that. If I tell her what you said, we stop bothering you at night, is that what you want?"

"No of course not. C'mon, Rosie..."

"Okay," she interrupted me, "If you don't want me to tell Martha, you have to accept the consequences." Rosie was turning the tables on me. 

With trepidation, I nodded my consent. She pulled a reflex hammer out of her pocket, one of those little instruments with a metal handle and triangular rubber head, and started tapping my balls, not as hard as she could, but rapidly, like 2 or 3 times a second, alternating, half a dozen or so on the right side, then the left. I howled. Not at the top of my lungs, but pretty loud. We both knew it wouldn't attract attention, because it was not uncommon for patients in that wing to cry out randomly from time to time. She kept it up for a good half a minute or so. By the time she stopped, I was breathing hard, and my cock was even harder, if that was possible, despite the intense pain in my testicles. Believe me, I never suggested anything after that; I just took whatever they had to offer, without complaint. 

I did occasionally have visitors during the day. Some of my school friends stopped by, but we didn't have much to talk about. They updated me on events I should have known about but didn't remember. There were "inside jokes" that I was no longer in on. Our best discussions were about video games. They talked about going to college, but I'd be repeating my senior year, having missed too much class time, not to mention final exams. They talked incessantly about my hot sisters, how our plans to see them naked always failed, and why I never set them up with any of my friends. They even talked about how Virginia always dressed so sexy whenever they came over. They were convinced that she was cock teasing them, trying to get them hard so she could look at their bulges. While I found that to be of interest, I felt I should protest the way they talked about my mother. But it seemed so much like normal every day trash talk, I just let it pass. Interestingly, after Lydia's disastrous visit, no girls came to see me.

Something unexpected happened one day during my sponge bath. It started just like all the others - I got an erection as soon as Amy appeared. She washed my upper body and back before exposing my genitals. I was ready to pop just like every other day, because of the attention I was getting at night. All that teasing, edged over and over, wanting so badly to cum but unable to make it happen. Even though Amy's behavior was always professional, she did have a tendency to stare at my dick, which just made things worse. 

I'm not sure what she did differently on this occasion; her hand lingered on just the right spot, or applied a bit more pressure, or maybe she was just looking prettier that day. Whatever it was, I started spurting with no warning. It totally caught me by surprise. What a rush! I'd been maintaining a constantly increasing level of arousal for days, when suddenly this orgasm hit me like a freight train! Stream after stream after thick stream. In addition to copious quantities on my chest, face, and pillow, the floor and wall behind me caught a few drops. I was so surprised that I cried out, and Amy squealed. 

After a short awkward silence, I spoke first, doing my best to seem sincere and embarrassed, "Oh my god, Amy, I'm so sorry, I didn't even feel that coming on, I didn't mean to, please don't be mad." She took a minute, regained her composure, and calmly started cleaning up. 

Amy exhibited a professional, clinical demeanor, saying, "don't be embarrassed, it happens sometimes, I know it was involuntary on your part, you have nothing to be ashamed of." I knew she was just quoting the training manual. But then her face softened and she became more sympathetic. "I'm so sorry I embarrassed you. It's never happened to me before," she said, "but we covered this in training. I've been very careful, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. Please, don't feel bad about it." 

I was worried that if she felt badly, she might try to get out of washing me every day, which to me would have been disastrous. I also wanted to make it okay to bust a nut every now and then. 

Thinking fast, I said "Amy, I hope you don't feel bad about what happened." I explained about feeling comfortable with her, and the anxiety of starting over with a new person. "I'm afraid that if it happens again, you'll think I'm some kind of pervert or something," I told her, "But I really didn't mean to. I'm sure I can keep it under control." It was such a rush, discussing sex with such a pretty girl, in a clinical setting, while she was cleaning my own cum off my face.

"It's ok, really, I believe you," Amy replied, "look, it might happen again and if it does, let's just agree to go about our business as if were completely normal." Then she added, "Which of course it is. And I won't think any worse of you." She kind of squinted and looked at me sideways and added, "Unless it happens too often."

I thought, "all right, now I just have to figure out how much is 'too often.'" I needn't have worried. For the rest of my stay, Amy made me cum at least three days a week. I was pretty sure it was intentional, but she was very subtle about it; of course it didn't take much, and she knew just where to touch. She always gave me the sweetest smile afterward, but as we agreed, neither of us said anything about it. I think she might have enjoyed it. Probably not as much as me, but certainly more than the person who had to clean the wall and mop the floor. 

It occurred to me that, since Amy didn't know I was getting teased and denied every single night, she probably thought I would be lousy in bed, because I had such a hair trigger. I didn't really like to have her believing that, but I didn't want to ruin a good thing, so I kept quiet about it. I didn't think I'd have a chance with her anyway.

Eventually, I realized she had a "tell," like a poker player who gives unconscious clues about his hand. On days when she was going to make me cum, she had a certain look in her eye, and she twirled her hair briefly as she entered the room. After that discovery, I knew when to hold back, and when to just relax and let it happen. From that point on, my hospital stay became sort like my own version of "sex camp," with the Cock Teasing Crew setting it up, and Amy bringing it on home. Of course it wasn't all fun and games, but I did enjoy that part of it.

Chapter 7

One night a cute little Asian nurse took Martha's shift. I wasn't all that disappointed, thinking I could use a break from the teasing; but Rosie managed to find extra time for me, so the blue balls continued. I wondered about Martha's absence, until the next morning right after breakfast, when she walked into my room. 

"I'm here to take you down to x-ray," she announced. 

"I thought that was this afternoon."

"Well, I guess they want you early," she replied. Unlikely as it seemed, I had the distinct impression that Martha had traded shifts just so she could take me to x-ray. I figured she resented being blackmailed, so I was just a little bit suspicious. I didn't think she was psycho, but if she was, she could really put the hurt on me.

Usually they just wheeled the bed down to x-ray, but Martha had brought in a wheelchair. First she put both my arms into slings, which in itself was strange. Then without any help, she managed to get me situated in the wheelchair. Because of the hip, my right leg was supported on some kind of attachment, sticking out to the right. The cast on my left leg pushed that knee out awkwardly, forcing my legs apart. Martha smoothed my gown out across my lap, and we started out into the hallway.

By the time we got to the elevator, I had begun to notice something peculiar. Nearly every time we passed a woman, she would follow me with her eyes. Some turned their heads completely to watch me pass. But I wasn't getting any eye contact, nor did I sense any sympathy in the way they looked at me. I pondered it on the ride down to the imaging department. 

Except, Martha hadn't pushed the button for the right floor. Something strange was indeed going on. I started getting nervous, but was afraid to speak up for fear of making it worse.

We exited the elevator on the first floor, and turned down toward the administrative offices. There were a lot more women in these hallways, and I immediately noticed the same strange behavior. Men were not reacting to me at all, only women. Not every woman looked my way, but all of those who did reacted in an unusual way; some were very subtle, others quite obvious. I saw a group of four ladies standing in the hallway, engaged in conversation. 

Upon noticing me, one of them opened her eyes wide and said, "Oh my God would you look at that." Not loud enough for me to hear but it was easy enough to read her lips. 

Her colleagues turned, took one look at me and burst out laughing. They caught the attention of others nearby, who also turned to look; some looked away immediately, but most watched me pass with amused expressions. 

"How insensitive!" was my first thought. But what exactly were they looking at? Not my face, not my hands, nor even my legs; they were focusing between my legs. I checked my gown and saw that Martha had only pulled it down to my knees; I was completely exposed to everyone! I felt a sense of panic, and reflexively reached to adjust my gown, but my hands wouldn't move - Martha had immobilized them with the slings - my hands were essentially bound against my chest, and I was completely helpless.

I needed to hide the fact that I knew I was exposed, so I did the only thing I could think of - I leaned my head back against the headrest, eyes half-closed, as though asleep or dazed on medication. When I did that, the attention intensified, as women who would have been ashamed to be caught looking felt free to gawk all they wanted. 

They just kept coming. The initial rush of panic did not let up; my breathing was shallow, my face damp with perspiration, ears ringing, and my heart was pounding. This was far more exposure than I was accustomed to; it felt like I was naked on a street corner. With extreme effort, I think I managed to conceal my anxiety, keeping my eyes half closed and my head reclined. 

I tried to extract my arms, first one then the other, but they were held fast. I had no idea where we were, or where we were headed. I just knew that unless I made a big scene, I was completely at Martha's mercy. She was in no hurry, making our way down the hall at a leisurely pace as one woman after another got an eyeful of my dick. 

We rounded a corner and found ourselves face to face with an old lady in a wheel chair, it was a near-collision, but we both stopped in time. The woman, in her 80's at least, peered at me through thick glasses; her face brightened considerably as she leaned forward for a better view, and a smile broke out on her face. 

The lady pushing her, who was evidently not hospital staff, was probably in her 60's. She actually laughed out loud, and gave me a look that said, "I know what you're up to, and I like it." I started to relax, willing myself to enjoy the ride while it lasted. Being medicated and helpless, I knew I couldn't be blamed. I don't know how Martha managed to get away with it; surely this was not a common practice.

My cock started repeatedly rising to about half-mast, then falling. It seemed to be in a constant state of flux, as anxiety gave way to arousal. Pretty soon, I could feel precum running back down the shaft and over my balls, meaning it had lifted beyond the horizontal plane. 

"Oh my god," I thought, "I must be leaving a trail of precum along the floor." But Martha had anticipated that problem, and strategically placed a towel on the seat, to catch the precum. If there was any remaining doubt, the towel showed that Martha had carefully planned this trip. Definitely pay-back for the blackmail. 

I completely lost track of time, but when we finally arrived at the x-ray department waiting room, I saw that we had been enroute for nearly an hour. I was looking forward to relaxing for a few minutes after that wild ride, but relaxation was not on the agenda. Martha parked me at the end of the middle row of chairs, in a space left empty for wheelchairs, and disappeared without a word. There was a row of seats along the wall across from me, and directly in front of me was the door, looking straight down a long hallway. My ordeal was just beginning.

Women kept coming down the hall, eyes on my prize. Many of them slowed, some even lingered for a moment, staring. A group of six ladies paused for conversation just outside the door, all of them 30-something, perfect hair and makeup; from where I was sitting, they all looked amazingly hot. These were babes who obviously spent time in the gym, and they were all fashionably dressed for business and accessorized like lawyers, or more likely, medical equipment factory reps. Two of them had a direct line of sight to my crotch, and their eyes never wavered. 

Although I couldn't hear what was said, I could tell by their actions that the others asked what those two were staring at. Both nodded in my direction, and the rest of the group turned around. When they realized what they were seeing, they started laughing, giggling and pointing. Not very professional, if you ask me. But they did draw the attention of everyone who was walking away from me, who wouldn't have otherwise turned around to get a good look at my goods. By keeping my head back as if I were out of it, I was able to observe them all through half-closed eyes.

The hotties moved on, but the river of females just kept coming. Some came back for another look or two; I started to recognize them on their third or fourth time around. I never got the chance to fully relax; not for one second could I escape their eyes. I felt like a zoo animal on display; I had to continually fight off the reflex to cover myself, even though I couldn't have if I'd wanted to. 

It wasn't just the ladies in the hallway; the seats across from me in the waiting room maintained a 100% female occupancy rate. As soon as one was vacated, another woman got up from across the room and moved over to fill in. Some were holding magazines at just the right height to peer at me over the top. You never saw so many women studying Field & Stream and MotorWeek magazine so intently. They kept leaning forward for a better view. It was as if each one, seeing those around her staring without hesitation, felt entitled to a good show, too.

Lunchtime came and went, during which time the imaging operation shut down. For about an hour the waiting room was nearly empty, while the hallway nearly filled to capacity. I pretended to be asleep or at least heavily drugged, so people wouldn't have to worry about the possibility of being caught staring. Many did stop and stare for a few minutes, mostly women, but there were a few men who were obviously pleased with what they saw. The men did not interest me, but I didn't mind as much as I thought I would.

Finally, middle of the afternoon, after spending a little over five hours on display, and probably losing about half my body weight in pre-cum, a cute little x-ray tech walked up, checked my bracelet, and wheeled me back into the x-ray room. Today they would be taking pictures of my hip. Three young, slender women began helping me up onto the table, and it was a bit of a struggle. The gown kept getting tangled so finally one of them just took it off me and tossed it aside, without even asking! They were being as careful as they could to avoid injuring me, but didn't seem too concerned about where they put their hands. By the time they were done, I was spread eagle flat on my back, and completely erect. This was not my first time in x-ray, but this time was way different from every other time. I guess the morning shift has a little more respect for a person's modesty.

I don't know why it took so long, but I was naked in that room for what must have been over an hour. They kept repositioning me. And these ladies were not bashful about putting their hands on my cock or my balls. In fact, I noticed that every time my erection started to fade, someone would come out to reposition me for another picture, and every time, she managed to get me hard again. 

At one point, a pretty blond was positioning me for the next shot when one of her colleagues came in to ask a question. I didn't mind the delay so much, but she casually rested her hand on my cock, as if she hadn't noticed. As she talked she kept shifting slightly, causing her hand to move ever so slightly up and down the shaft. Up and down, just slightly. I was very close to cumming when the conversation ended and she got back to work. 

People kept coming into the control room behind the glass wall, and I'm pretty sure all of them were female. Or most of them, at least. I thought I saw a couple or three ladies in business suits in there, but it was hard to tell with the glare. I swear I saw Martha back there for a long time, and began to suspect that she had engineered the whole thing, and enlisted the help of some colleagues as well. 

When they had finally shot all the film they needed, they wrestled me back into the chair, with excessive groping I might add, put my arms back in the slings, and started toward the door. But I was still naked! 

Just before we reached the door, three young ladies hurried over with my gown, and one of them said to my dick (she was actually talking to me, but her eyes were on my hard cock), "Sorry Mr. Wood," - she kind of laughed and repeated, "Mr. Wood. We forgot your gown. We could get you up and put it on you, or if you don't mind, can we just cover you with it?" They stood there eyeing my hard dick, until I realized they were waiting for an answer. I was so damn horny by that time, my mind was mush. 

"Whatever's easiest," I said, "No, wait. I would prefer to wear it." If they were going to make fun of me, I was determined to get all the fun out of it I could. So they managed to lift me up and get the gown on me, with much groping. It was totally awesome, and when it was over, I was covered no more than I had been that morning. 

At that point Martha walked up to wheel me back to my room. I noticed that she greeted the x-ray techs by name, and thanked them as we were walking away. 

Some of them called after us, "Oh no, thank YOU." The trip back was much quicker than the trip down, since we didn't take the "scenic route" this time.

When Martha came in the next night, I thanked her profusely, and begged her to take me to x-ray again soon. She just smiled as she stroked my cock, right up to the edge one more time. 

Chapter 8

Finally, I got word that my last night as an inpatient had arrived; I had discharge orders for the following day. The casts had been off my legs and hands for a couple days; I'd been showering myself, really missing my sessions with Amy. My hip was good enough that I could hobble along. I'd be getting plenty of physical therapy, so I wasn't worried about that. The one thing that did bother me was the weakness in my hands. They were still recovering from the surgeries, and it would take some time to build up strength. 

My problem was that I couldn't grip my cock with enough strength to get myself off. I had a special reason for wanting the ability to masturbate, beyond just the normal teenage boy needs; Rosie had begun talking to me during our sessions, telling me how much she was looking forward to watching me jerk myself off before I left. I was actually looking forward to it, too.

My last night in the hospital started just like every other night of my stay, with a long tease & denial session. With my legs out of their casts, Martha and Rosie restrained my legs as well as my hands. 




Life on the Edge of Orgasm



After a long break, around midnight, Martha and Rosie came in together, stood on either side of the bed, and unbuckled the restraints on my hands. I didn't even notice that my legs were still tied down.

"Okay big boy," Rosie said, "Now it's time...I want to watch you make yourself cum, and I expect to see jism on the ceiling." The ladies thought that was hilarious. 

So I started, first with one hand, then the other, then both, but dammit! I still couldn't apply enough pressure! I was stroking away, and it felt great, but my hands were tiring and I wasn't getting anywhere. With all that built up pressure in my balls, you'd think I'd have exploded on contact, but it just wasn't happening. 

"It's my hands," I said, "I just can't do it. Please help me." I was really begging, to the great amusement of the ladies. Finally Rosie consented.

She got out that damn reflex hammer. Soon as I saw it, I covered my balls with my hands and begged her not to hammer my balls. She really got a kick out of that. With Martha's help, she re-tied my hands, laughing the whole time. Those ladies were strong, and had no trouble overpowering me in my weakened condition.

She started working me over. I howled in pain.

"This just won't do," said Martha. She reached into the bathroom, pulled out a washcloth, and stuffed it into my mouth. I was in a state of near panic. I tried to cry out for help, but no sound came out.

Rosie moved down to the foot of the bed, got out her tourniquet and used it to tie off my balls, separating them from the rest of my body.

"Now we ready," she said, as she started tapping. Like last time, she wasn't hitting that hard, but it was rapid-fire blows, hitting the same spot repeatedly, first on one side then the other. It hurt a lot, but I swear it very nearly made me cum. She kept it up for several minutes.

Finally she stopped, got out her hand lotion, and started applying it to my cock, which had remained hard as a rock throughout. It felt so good, but my testicles were aching fiercely.

"Dick stays hard, means he can take more of that. Maybe he wants more of it," Rosie said.

I shook my head vigorously, to indicate that I did NOT want more of it. My groans of pain had turned into moans of pleasure with her skillful handling of my cock. Martha took the gag out of my mouth. She just looked at me and smiled. I recognized that smile; it was a smile of victory. With a single look, she was conveying a very clear message. Something along the lines of, "You thought you were so smart, making us play with your little dick all this time; now, you belong to us. It don't matter what you want anymore." 

Then she spoke out loud, "Rosie and me are both off the clock now, so we got plenty of time to make you cum."

"As many times as we want to," Rosie added. "And you best keep quiet, else we'll find something to keep you quiet."

I wasn't sure what she meant by "as many times as we want to," but from the look on her face I gathered that they could make me cum more times than I would want to. It was a little past midnight on the clock, and the shift change was at six. Six more hours. I didn't know if I could take it. I'm sure the fear showed on my face.

All this time, Rosie was stroking my cock. Now she started to speed up, but there was so much lotion that there was little friction. As I got close I started to thrust to meet her hand. She loosened her grip when I did that. She was barely making contact, but as aroused as I was, I knew it would be enough if she just kept it up for a couple more seconds. Just as I thought I'd reached the point of no return, she pulled back and left my cock swaying and twitching. 

I cried out, "No don't stop now!" They laughed at that.

"You gonna cum tonight, but we decide when and how," said Rosie.

Martha stepped up and started just like she always did, slow steady strokes, stopping just under the rim, driving me to the edge. But this time she wasn't stopping. I couldn't believe it, Martha was going to make me cum! Except of course, she didn't. More laughter. They were really making fun of me. 

Rosie started back in, promising, "This time, honey, this time for sure." Just like before, she worked me over with the hammer before starting to stroke. "Oh yes oh yes oh yes," I kept repeating. She increased the speed and tightened up on her grip. The building orgasm was so powerful, I swear I was seeing flashing lights before my eyes. Then she just let go, stepped back, and started laughing. She reached out and squeezed my tender balls; not nearly as hard as she could have, but it still hurt.

Tears came to my eyes. I looked over at Martha, and saw real sympathy in her face, as she reached over and started her slow strokes. I relaxed, knowing that this time, this time it was going to happen. 

Ten minutes later Martha was still stroking, varying her speed a little, stopping when I got close to the edge. I wanted to believe, but gave up hope of an orgasm from Martha. "Don't you worry, sweetheart," she said, "I'm going to take real good care of you this time." She sounded so sincere, so compassionate, and I was so close, and I started thrusting into her hand. Every time I did that, she just moved her hand along with my dick, canceling out any effect my movements might have had. It was so frustrating.

Twenty minutes later, she'd been at it for over half an hour, I was totally going crazy, moaning constantly. Another half hour passed. I didn't know she could keep it up for this long. At least a full hour, and for the last half of it, I was edging on nearly every stroke.

Finally she said, "I'm kinda tired, I'm gonna have to rest a minute. You must not need to cum as bad as you made out." I was really weeping now. I needed it so bad. As bad as the teasing was, it was even worse when they stopped. I needed to have something rubbing my cock. I would have humped anything, I was that desperate.

For the rest of the night, they took turns, non-stop teasing for 6 hours with some pretty rough treatment mixed in, whenever Rosie got the urge to do a little hammering. Over and over, they promised to make me cum. They were so convincing, I really believed them about half the time, maybe more. I was crying off and on the whole time. They laughed at my tears. But I was convinced that surely they wouldn't leave me hanging tonight, not after all they put me through. 

Suddenly Martha said, "Well, our shift ends in five minutes, we best get cleaned up." 

"No, please, please," I was begging like never before, but it was futile. They unshackled my hands and feet, covered me up, and unceremoniously walked out without even saying goodbye.