John had confessed that he really loved to be cock teased. He told me, blushing the whole time, that he got turned on by pretty women and that what he most enjoyed was just holding the slow burn of desire, the wanting and waiting without knowing if or when there would be a release.

So I just had to test him. I had to find out how far I could push him before he lost all semblance of dignity and self restraint. He’d told me what turned him on, so I told him what turns me on.

“I want to see you beg. I want to hear you gasp and moan; I want helpless sounds torn from your throat, unwilling.”

I stroked the back of my fingers over his swollen cock, lightly. The tips of my fingernails barely brushed the head causing him to jerk and twitch. His eyes were bright, swimming already in tears of frustration and desire.

“I want to watch you strain to hold yourself together, to keep yourself from cumming, while I touch you, stroke you, run my hands over you as though you were a piece of meat, mine for the taking.”

My hands, still moving, stroked and petted up his stomach, towards his chest. At his nipples, I used my fingernails to twist and pull, drawing a thin whine from him. My thumbs made tight circles over his swollen nipples.

“Do you want me to touch your cock like this? To rub, pinch, pull, draw circles and designs across your cock, over your balls, down to your heated little hole? How badly do you want it? How much do you need it? Tell me.”

When he started to sob, to beg and plead for permission, I smiled. And when I saw that his hands were right where I’d placed them, on his thighs, I laughed.

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