a few days ago you told me to stop
that I couldn't go over the edge by my own hand
until you released me from the prohibition when I saw you next
with my voice raggedly saying "damn you" over the phone
You must have realized how sexy that was when you said it
That I'd have to test how close I could get these past few days
wet warm slick straining
almost there
muscles clenching
to then force myself to stop again
because you told me to stop
But that was a few days ago... going to stop me now?
9 comments:
I believe we are in parallel universes, but have I done anything as productive as writing a poem about it? Of course not!
*giggle* It's nice to find other people who understand.
I had to do something with the frustration of the time (except for the last line, the poem was written the day after the phone call he told me to stop, but before I got to see him).
I'm fortunate enough that he let me pounce on him with no further restrictions... what did yours do?
That was wonderfully sexy. I think you nailed the conflict of frustration perfectly.
Shon- thank you. I also hope that I conveyed that slightly bratty "I'll show you" tendency that happens with some subs/switches.
Jaenelle, I don’t have a good story! My restriction was a punishment with a fixed ending time. It helps to know someone else in a similar situation.
This wasn't a punishment... at least it wasn't at the time it happened. He just wanted to tease me and hold off the finish.
Well, at least by my hands.
If my fiance did play with me and get me off, then that was ok.
Short, but tantalizing! I think mental stimulation is so much more effective than getting the crap beat out of you . . .
Cherrie- well, I find "getting the crap beaten out of" me from time to time quite stimulating too... then again, the lovers who I have that sort of arrangement with also lay into the mental stimulation even heavier than the flogger.
Yeah, I would think getting whipped without being stimulated to enjoy the sensation would not be much fun. I'm sure there's a skill needed to achieve that . . . it's just not my thing.
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