Erotic
2002-11-09

Not long ago, we formalized "the game. " We agreed together that she would have complete and total control over my orgasms; I would never again cum without her permission. As planned, she immediately said that I would be allowed to cum only one day per week - Tuesday, which is my day off. While she "reserved the right" to let me cum more often than that, she has not yet done so. This arrangement has worked out perfectly - I am constantly excited, and she gets all the sex she wants, whenever she wants; I am ALWAYS ready! By the fifth day each week I am a horny wreck, running into the bathroom to masturbate between meetings at work, and walking around with an erection most all the time at home. On the "seventh day" my orgasms are huge, and I am good for three or four in the course of the day. But always, throughout that day, there is the nagging reminder that it will be seven days more before I can cum again. . . Last month - the month of my birthday - Linda did what she had been threatening (promising?) to do for a long time: as the first part of my birthday present, she told me that I would not be allowed to cum FOR THE ENTIRE MONTH. While we had talked about this before, the reality of what she said was pretty daunting: before meeting her, I seldom went a day without cumming; lately, it had been seven days, which was damn difficult already; how could I possibly go a month? I told her it would physically hurt to do that - "blue balls" is not a joke - and she said that she had given that a lot of thought, and she was okay with it. I said, "YOU'RE okay with MY hurting?" And she said yes, she was; she thought it would be fun to watch me try to sit down, and she hoped that it would remind me of her all the time. It did. I made it through the first week quite well; after all, that was what I was used to already. The second week got hard, fast: by the ninth day, when my body apparently realized that seven days had come and gone and I had NOT cum, it rebelled. My balls ached, and while they didn't look any bigger than normal, when I walked or tried to sit down it felt like I had two bowling balls between my legs.

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  "Linda, it really hurts," I said. "I know," she answered, and she kissed me deeply. "PLEASE let me cum," I begged. "I'm sorry, I can't let you," she said. She didn't say "no," she said "I can't let you," which somehow made it feel like it was out of her hands, too, and both of us would just have to live with it. And we did, all through week #2. The 14th day was my birthday, and any hope I had that I might get a "pardon" was dashed when she told me I'd have to wait another week for my present, because I "wasn't ready yet. " But she came four times that day, and left me gasping and begging each time. The third week was a blur of horniness, frustration, pleasure, pain and yes, fear - fear that I would cum accidentally, and fear that I would NOT cum, and actually continue to live that way for more than another week. On the 21st day - the third anniversary of my weekly cumming that I had been denied - she came over in the afternoon, sat me down and said, "It's time to talk about your birthday present. Remember that time I came to your office, and we shut the door, and I told you to get undressed and masturbate for me? I loved watching you, and it was so cute when you told me you were actually embarrassed, since I was completely dressed and you were completely naked. Every time my eyes went from your eyes to your cock, you shuddered, and every time I smiled when you got close to cumming and had those great looks of pleasure on your face, you nearly lost it. Remember?"Of course I remembered. I was completely surprised by how embarrassing it was to strip and masturbate in front of my own girlfriend; the fact that I was naked in front of a completely dressed woman changed everything, and I had admitted to her later that it was exciting as well as embarrassing. "Good - I thought you'd remember," she continued.

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   "So, tonight I'm having a party at my house, in honor of your birthday. I've invited three of my friends over, and you're the entertainment. Is that okay with you?"I was dumbstruck. I thought she was just joking, but there was nothing in her voice which sounded like joking. While the thought was mind-blowingly exciting, I knew there was a huge gap between fantasy and reality, and there was nothing in the world which could make me do whatever it was she was planning on my doing for her friends that night. "Linda, I can't," I whispered hoarsely. "You CAN'T, as in you have other plans, or you WON'T, as in it's too embarrassing?""My love, it really is TOO embarrassing. I couldn't possibly do that, even though you know how exciting I find stuff like that. ""Listen, I went to a lot of trouble to arrange this party. It took a lot of explaining to get my girlfriends to understand what we're doing, and now that they are excited about it, I'm not about to cancel it. ""But I can't. I really can't. . . ""All right," she said with a sigh, "I'll make you a deal.

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   If you make me cancel this, we end 'the game' NOW, and don't ever play it again. We'll go back to a normal sex life, just like everyone else, and pretend it never happened. If you really CAN'T do this, then it will be worth it to you; otherwise, I'll expect to see you at my house in an hour, so we have time to get ready. " And with that, she got up from the couch and walked out my door. I sat there, stunned, for a long time. Finally, in a daze, I went to my bedroom and chose clothing to wear for the evening: black jeans, a white button-down shirt, socks, sneakers. . . and dark blue underwear. I threw them in a bag and drove to her house. I don't know if it was her threat, or overwhelming horniness, or both, but I was going to go through with it - whatever "it" was. When I rang the bell, she opened the door and hugged me tight. "Thank you," she said. I came inside and she said her friends would be there in an hour, so I should get ready. I asked her who was coming over, and she named three women I did not know: Fran, Rachel and Ronit.

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   Then she told me to go take a shower. I got into the shower, and as I began to wash she poked her head in. "Be sure you wash EVERYWHERE, because they are going to see all of you," she said with a wicked grin. I smiled - she looks beautiful when she laughs - and glanced down. . . and I froze. Now, I'm no Adonis; not ugly, but certainly no Chipendales dancer. As I looked down at myself in the shower, I suddenly saw my body - stomach, legs, pubic hair, cock - with the realization that in just a little while, four women would be staring at me. . . ALL of me. My cock, which had been nearly hard as I washed, immediately shrank until I thought it would disappear. I took a deep breath, tried to keep from shaking, and looked up to see Linda with the most self-satisfied look on her face. She knew she "got me" good with that one!She left the bathroom, and I finished my shower.

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   It took a while - after all, how long do you wash yourself when you're going to be showing your body to everyone? I went to her room and dressed, now truly shaking with the thought that each piece of clothing I was putting on was only a temporary covering, enough to bide the time until the moment I exposed myself for Linda and her "guests. "When I finished dressing, I went downstairs to the living room. Linda had me sit beside her, and she gave me a deep kiss, then began to speak. "Pete, when my company arrives, please meet them at the door. Introduce yourself, welcome them and get them drinks. If they ask you any questions about what's going on tonight, answer them truthfully, all right?"I nodded dumbly. "When everyone's here, I'm going to tell them about the game, and about the 21 days since you came. I'm also going to tell them about how embarrassed you were undressing in front of me, and how I can't imagine how embarrassed you're going to be doing it for all of them. Then, when the time seems right, I'm going to ask you to undress for us. When you do, please stand in the center of the room and face them, and whatever you do, don't close your eyes; I want you looking at them all the time. Do you understand?"I nodded again, absolutely unable to speak. "When you're undressed, I'll ask you to walk up to each of them in turn, so they can have a close look at you. By that time, everyone should be ready for another drink, so you'll get refills from the kitchen. ""Undressed?" I asked. "Of course! Once you undress, you're not getting dressed again this evening.

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   So anyway, when everyone has a new drink, I want you to pull up a chair and sit right in front of them. Don't cross your legs or use your hands to hide anything; I want them to be able to look at you as long and as carefully as they want. Just sit and talk with us; you know, polite conversation with our guests. And try not to be too uncomfortable when they stare at your body. "And then, the best part of the evening's entertainment: I'll tell you it is time for you to masturbate for us. I want you to stand in the middle of the room again, take the jar of Vaseline, and go to it. "Now, this is VERY important: I want them to see everything, so you may not hide anything - not your body or your feelings - as you masturbate. I want them to see your body shake; I want them to hear you moan and groan with pleasure; and most of all, I want them to see the wonderful faces you make when you get close to cumming.

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You may not hide ANYTHING from them, do you understand?"Again, I nodded, but she made me say it aloud. "Yes, I understand. I will let them see everything. ""Great! Then we're all ready for our company. Why don't you sit here and picture what you'll be doing in a little while? That should be fun!"I sat, and I pictured, and I couldn't stop shaking, so I stopped picturing. Basically, I stopped thinking - it was the best defense - until the doorbell wrenched me back to what was passing for reality. "Get the door, please," she called from the kitchen.

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  I went to the door, trying not to shake so much that it would show. When I opened it, I managed to say, "Hi, I'm Pete. Please come in. "Our first guest introduced herself as Ronit. She was in her late 20's, about 5' 5", and obviously Israeli - with an Israeli attitude. I did my best to concentrate on what she said, but I couldn't help thinking that this woman was going to see me - SEE me - in just a few minutes. Apparently she was thinking the same thing, as she looked me up and down, not-so-subtly evaluating what kind of show she would get that evening. Israelis are NOT subtle. I had just settled her on the living room couch and handed her a beer, when the doorbell rang again. Answering it, I met Fran, whose appearance really surprised me. She was in her late 30's or early 40's, and somehow, I had never considered the possibility that one of my "audience" would be a middle-aged woman! Same thoughts, both mine and hers. As she entered, I saw another woman coming up the driveway, so I waited there. As uncomfortable as it was to introduce myself to these women, it was even harder to wait patiently by the door as my next "spectator" walked up to me. I think I took my first breath when she finally made it to the front door. This was Rachel, a drop-dead gorgeous, blonde young woman, maybe 24 years old.

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  When everyone was seated on the couch, drinks in hand, Linda entered. She said hello to all of them, and thanked them for coming. Then she said, "Well, what do you think of him?"As well-informed as they were, it was difficult for them to get comfortable talking about me, in front of me. Linda saw this, and said, don't worry - I'm sure Pete can do *something* to help you all relax!" Then, as promised, she gave them all the details of "the game," talking openly about fucking until she came and about me masturbating for her and being embarrassed. The conversation seemed so unreal that I was not even bothered very much by it; it was as if she was talking about someone else. They asked a few questions of her, and a few of me, which I tried to answer the best I could. Most of all, they wanted to know WHY I didn't mind waiting so long to cum; I couldn't really answer that well, except to say that it was very exciting to know that Linda was completely in control. I don't know that they really understood, but they accepted my answer. "So, Pete, why don't you take off your clothes now?" Her question (though it was not at all a question) hit me like a hammer. I had just gotten to the point where I could talk about what we did, and was beginning to feel a little comfortable, when she said it. . . and my heart nearly stopped. There is a difference - a BIG difference - between fantasizing about exposing yourself and actually doing it. There is no way to describe what it feels like to have four sets of eyes staring at you, all waiting for you to take off all your clothes.

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   Two parts were the most difficult, and the first was taking the very first action - the one that leads to all the others. I sat for what seemed like an eternity, until Linda quietly whispered, "I told you not to close your eyes. " I hadn't realized that they were closed, but I guess I was trying to slip off to some other place, even if that place was only inside. I opened my eyes, saw them staring, and reached down to untie my sneakers. Once I got started, taking off my sneakers was actually very easy; after all, what's the big deal about that? My socks followed, and then I stood up. Walking from my chair to the center of the room was the longest walk of my life, but eventually I was there - and there was no more reason to delay. I unbuckled my belt, opened my pants and dropped them to the floor, stepping out of them when they were around my ankles. I then unbuttoned my shirt, and as I pulled it off, I felt a rush of cold air and a rush of fear: I was nearly naked, and all four women had hunched forward in their seats, watching me intently. The other nearly impossible part was, of course, taking off my underwear. Twice I closed my eyes, forcing them open each time I remembered that I had to look at my audience as they looked at me. Then, just as I reached to pull them down, Linda interrupted. "Wait a minute," she said. "I want to ask everyone something. Girls, have any of you ever seen a man you didn't know, take off ALL his clothes for you?"Ronit, Fran and Rachel looked at each other, thought for a minute, and one by one, said no, they hadn't. Then Linda said, "Pete, have you ever taken off all your clothes for a woman you never met?"Standing there in my underwear, my cock trying to decide whether to be hard or to disappear, I croaked out, "No.

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  ""That's great!" Linda said. "That means you're all going to do something you've never done before! Okay, Pete, pull down your underpants. "With nothing left to do but do it, and with Linda's words ringing in my ears, I slipped my thumbs into the waistband and slowly exposed myself to them. I didn't do it slowly to be sexy or tantalizing; I did it slowly because I thought I would pass out if I moved any faster. When my underwear hit the floor, I stepped out of each leg, then looked up to see my audience staring at my body. Everyone was silent for what seemed like hours. I saw them looking at me - looking at my penis, then looking up at my eyes, then glancing away nervously, then looking again. All except Fran, that was: she stared at me, running her eyes up and down my body like a buyer checking out a new car. Finally, she broke the silence: "My God, this is GREAT!" she declared, and that let loose a wave of comments from all three of Linda's guests. I won't go into the details; suffice to say that they commented on EVERY part of me. The most humiliating part was that not one of them spoke TO me - they all talked ABOUT me. It was as if I had no feelings - as if it simply didn't matter what they said about me in my presence. Some things they said were complimentary, others were critical; no one paid the least attention to ME, just to my body. "C'mon over here, Pete - I want to take a closer look. " Again, Fran was the one who spoke up, though everyone moved closer as I stepped forward.

 

   Fran made me feel like she had bought me; I felt like a piece of meat, or a slave. As I took a few steps toward her, my cock shriveled up completely; standing in front of them, it was at their eye-level, and the attention was more than it could bear!"Don't you want to see his ass, too?" Linda asked, helpfully. They all said yes, so she instructed me to turn around. Even though I couldn't see them, I imagined all their eyes on me, and I felt myself blushing. So, I paraded - front and back - before each of Linda's guests. My cock grew and shrank, based on the tone and content of their comments, and again, I began to breathe a little in spite of my exposure. Linda asked me to get refills for everyone's drinks, so I picked up their glasses and headed for the kitchen. The minute I turned the corner, I heard the living room explode in a wave of laughter, whispers and comments. Any comfort I had felt over the last few minutes disappeared as I listened; not only did they talk about my body, they talked about how embarrassing it must be for me. When they did, Linda (always the helpful one) said they were welcome to embarrass me as much as they wanted; I was there for them to enjoy. "Wait until you see him jerk off," she said. "You'll love the faces he makes!"Trying not to spill the drinks, I returned to our guests. As I had been instructed, I pulled up a chair in front of them and tried to act as if there was nothing unusual about me sitting nude in front of four women. Linda said they could ask me anything they wanted, and this time it was Rachel who said, "I could never do what you're doing. I'd be so embarrassed, I'd die.

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  "Not that I could have answered anyway, but her words dug into my gut and drew a shudder, a groan and an instant erection from me. She stared at my now-waving cock and said, "Wow, Linda was right - you really do get off on being embarrassed, don't you?"Before I could answer, she said, "Now that you're hard, stand up and let us see your stuff. " I stood up, and my erect penis was only inches from her face. "It's been 21 days since you came, huh? I guess that explains the stuff leaking out of you now. "I looked down, and to my humiliation, there was not just a drop of pre-cum, but a thin strand of it, hanging off the tip of my penis and waving about four inches beneath. "May I have that?" Rachel asked. Linda said of course, and with that, the young woman leaned forward, stuck out her tongue, and caught the hanging end of the strand. When it touched her tongue, she moved upward, tracing it toward my penis. Reaching my penis, she licked the tip and ran her tongue once around the entire head. The feeling was so good, and so intense, that I groaned loudly and my whole body shook. Rachel leaned back in her seat, licked her lips and said, "Thank you; that was delicious.

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" And with that, Linda happily announced that it was time for me to masturbate for everyone. "Remember, he's not allowed to cum, but we want him to get as close as possible. Once he gets 'right there,' he makes the greatest faces!" She made a big show of handing me the jar of Vaseline, and said, "Entertain us, Pete. "Since the jar was right in front of me, I took it without thinking.

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   Even putting some of it on my cock which wasn't that hard, as I got to look down, away from their staring eyes. I closed the jar, put it on the table, and then made the mistake of looking up. How do you look at four, fully-dressed women staring at you, and begin to masturbate? My hand kept pulling itself back, reflecting my total humiliation at what I was supposed to do now. Finally, Linda said, "I don't care how embarrassed you are right now, Pete. I want some ACTION. " She said that last word with more emphasis than I thought was necessary, but she made her point. My hand reached for my penis, and I began to stroke. If it was difficult to strip in front of those women, it was ten times as hard to masturbate for them. Actually jerking off was not difficult - I'd been practicing since I was a teenager - but the first time I shuddered I found out that my audience was going to give a running commentary on my performance. "Aaah - I saw that!" Rachel said, and the others all chimed in with how "cute" it was. Then, when I couldn't hold back any longer, and my mouth fell open and I groaned, Fran said, "Linda, you were right about the faces he makes!" Linda answered that I was just getting warmed up, and she instructed me to start playing with my nipples as I jerked off. I said that it drove me crazy when she touched my nipples; they are very sensitive, and even my own touch sends sparks from there to my groin. But in order to do that to myself, my position had to be even less dignified: with my right hand on my penis, my left arm has to be all the way out to the side in order to reach my left nipple. When I began, Linda smiled, stood up, and came to stand next to me. She whispered in my ear, "I want you to look down at your body, and see what we are seeing.

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   Then I want you to look each woman in the eye, and when you have done that, I want you to get as close to cumming as you can. You're turning all of us on, and to make sure no one feels uncomfortable, I want you to make the most noise and the funniest faces you possibly can. Do you understand?"I nodded, she sat down, and at that moment I decided to give up. I decided that there was no way I was going to come out of this with any dignity left anyway, so I might as well make my lover happy and do as she said. So I did. I looked at each woman - at Fran, at Ronit, and at Rachel - and I stroked my cock and played with my nipple the way I do when I want to make myself cum. I began to shake and spasm, and I had to remind myself to keep looking at them every time my eyes started to roll back in my head. I can only imagine what faces I made, and I filled the room with pants, groans and moans of pleasure. I was masturbating in public. As Linda instructed, I got close - VERY close. I let go of my cock, and looked at my audience as it "danced" - jerking up and down, desperately searching for something to touch it so it could cum. As soon as it stopped, I started stroking again, and brought myself to the edge a second time. This time, I was so close that I had to move my legs - taking little steps forward and back, which diverts some of the sensation from my groin and prevents the orgasm. Suddenly, the room was very quiet. Everyone was looking at me, but no one was saying anything.

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   I noticed that Ronit and Rachel were rubbing their legs together, and Fran - the free spirit of the group - was actually rubbing her crotch through her pants. Linda was smiling as she looked at me and at her guests, and I knew she was getting wet - she said watching me perform always made her wet, even when it was just the two of us. Now, knowing that we would have sex as soon as the other left, she was visibly enjoying the anticipation. I gave myself over completely to my "performance. " After getting close a half-dozen times, I actually took the initiative and walked over to the women sitting on the couch, and continued to do it right in front of them. When I made my penis "dance" once again, Fran let out a soft moan, and Ronit closed her eyes tightly, obviously busy with a private moment. Just as I realized that I was really enjoying myself, Linda interrupted. It was as if she could read my mind, and the thought that I was relaxing was too much for her to bear. "Now it's time for the souvenirs," she announced. I had no idea what she was talking about until she produced my digital camera from behind the chair. When she told the women that each of them could have a picture of me to take home, my discomfort returned full-time. I stopped masturbating, and stood there in shock. "Each of you can have your choice of pictures: one of Pete alone, standing naked and looking at the camera, or one of him masturbating with one of those great faces he makes, or one of you standing next to him while he does it. What would you like?""You can't. .

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  . you can't do that!" I protested. "You can't give them PICTURES!""Of course I can, silly man. I can do anything I want. Besides, everyone has promised to keep the pictures for themselves; they aren't going to share them with anyone. But after such a lovely evening, why wouldn't they want to have something to, ah, 'remember you' by?"I started to speak, and she told me to be quiet and to pose like a good boy. Rachel spoke first. "I'd like one of him jerking off. " Then Ronit said that she'd like that, too. Linda said, "Great," and instructed me to go back to the middle of the room, and to "give us another show. " Then she told the two women to watch me and tell her when they saw what they wanted. She sat on the couch directly between them, and ordered me to look straight at the camera as I jerked off. It took forever to get hard, because of my shame and my fear, and also because I knew that when I "let go," I was going to be preserved on film. Finally, my hand worked its stuff and I felt myself getting excited. As a wave of pleasure shot through me, Ronit said, "Now!"The flash went off as I groaned, and I thought about how ridiculous people look when they are having sex.

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   Not only was I sure I had looked that way, but I knew I would get to see it in a few minutes when we printed out Ronit's "souvenir" for her. Rachel waited until I was right on the brink of cumming; I don't know how she knew, but just as I drew in a breath and was about to pull my hand away, she shouted, "That's it!" The flash fired again, and I had to take those little steps to keep from cumming. When that was done, we all looked to Fran. She got up, walked over to me, fixed her hair a little and said, "I want a picture of you looking at me when you get that close again. " She stood next to me - the fabric of her shirt against my naked, stroking arm - as I did what I had to do. She never took her eyes off me. Every time I closed my eyes in response to the pleasure, she whispered, "Look at me. " She didn't smile, she didn't move a muscle; she just stared at me until I was so close I cried out, and the camera flashed. Then, without a word, she returned to her seat. "Now, we'll all stay her while Pete prints out a beautiful full-page copy of each of your pictures. Right, Pete?"Sitting in front of Linda's computer, seeing each of the three images as it came out of the printer, was an entirely new kind of embarrassment. Now, naked but not masturbating, I was faced with my "funny faces" in full color. I saw what they had seen, and now I had to give each of them their "souvenir. " When I distributed them, it was clear that the sexual tension had receded for them, too, because Rachel said, "God, you look funny!" and the others all shared their pictures and pointed out every amusing element in each. Linda and I walked them to the door - of course, I was still naked - and thanked them for coming over.

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   As soon as the door closed, Linda told me to lie down on the floor. She was soaking wet, and without any foreplay at all (or rather, after ALL THAT foreplay), she got on top of me and slipped my dick inside her. The whole time we fucked, she told me how much she loved seeing me like that. She loved seeing what I did, and she loved how often I blushed. She loved that I got into it, and that I turned her friends on. She came - long and deep - as she talked, then got up and said, "I've had a long day; let's go to sleep. " I arose from the floor, my erection painfully waving in front of me, and followed her up the stairs. As she drifted off to sleep she said, "You can't cum for another 11 days. "Comments welcome - please email, as I don't get onto the Newsgroups very often. PeteWaitawhile2000@yahoo. com.