I asked for this.
We were laying in bed, taking about fantasies, when I just blurted it out.
I want to explore denial, I said. I want to see if you can use it to control me.
Her curiosity was piqued. Tell me how, she said.
A piece of jewelry. Something she could put on and wear without raising any suspicion. As long as she had it on I wouldn’t be allowed to come.
She thought for a moment, then: I have just the thing. She got up and dug through the jewelry box on her dresser, before sliding back into bed. In her hand, a tiny key she’d bought at a flea market.
She undid her necklace, threaded the key onto it, and refastened it behind her neck. So as long as I wear this, you can’t come?
I swallowed dryly and nodded. You decide how long to wear it.
I decide when you come, she corrected. Or if.
Her hand found my cock under the covers. You’re so hard, she said. She pulled the covers and my boxers back, and took my cock into her mouth. I groaned involuntarily.
She sucked and pumped until I was gasping, until my heart was racing in my chest, until I was begging her for release. Abruptly she stopped.
No more, she said. She stood, stripped off her pajamas, and went to the dresser again. She dug out a pair of sleek silver boyshorts that she knew were a favorite of mine, pulled them on, then slid back into bed, spooning her ass against my swolled cock.
Night, night, she said.