Ali Calls it Starfishing, but I'm not sure what I'd Call it

A few of Ali's tricks - Part 3 of the Strap-on Saga

[This is part 3 of the Strap-on Story. In part 2 our caged narrator did his best, by obeying and attempting to satisfy Ali, to persuade her to remove the cage enclosing his frustrated cock. In this episode things perhaps look up a little for him.]

Ali has a fascination with ruined orgasms. Or maybe I should say with ruining my orgasms, and on the whole I think my world’s better for it, although it can be difficult to put up with. The first time she did it just about gave me a heart attack, and by the time I’d recovered from that I’d already found myself longing for an orgasm even more than I had been before cumming.

Delicious torment.

Here’s how that first time went. We were making out in bed and I was hard as a rock, as usual, alternating between licking her nipple or running my tongue around it in light circles and nipping it the way she likes so much. Ali’s nipples are big – her breasts are big, and her nipples are just the right size for them, you might say. Her aureoles are maybe the size of a silver dollar, a ruddy red, in the middle of which is the nipple itself, about the size of a pencil eraser before you start playing with it, much larger after she’s excited. I couldn’t get over them when I first saw them, and I’ve never gotten over them since, either.

So I was playing that game while her hands wandered around a bit before settling down lightly on my cock.

After a while she decided to take charge of things, and she moved down to give me more attention, slowly taking my length into her mouth and throat, slowly pulling back off, sucking all the way as she usually did. It felt absolutely heavenly, but this was going to be a different experience this time.

After a little of the standard pleasuring, Ali pulled off completely, much to my disappointment, but it wasn’t too bad because she kept her grip with her hand, stroking up and down very slowly. She was doing something a little different, though. Usually she’d stroke lightly on the upstroke and much more heavily on the down-stroke, which would feel more like fucking. This time she stroked very lightly on the down-stroke and applied more pressure on the upstroke. It felt great, but I found myself wishing she’d tighten the grip on the down-stroke – it just didn’t feel like I’d ever cum with what she was doing.

She kept at it for quite a while, and I was just getting hornier and more frustrated. It didn’t feel like it was bringing me any closer to orgasm, but was keeping right on the edge, and I started to get rather desperate. I tried to grab her hand and tighten her grip myself, but she just slapped my hand away, letting me know she was in charge. When I thrust against her on the down-stroke she’d pull away just as much until I was finally fairly writhing with frustrated pleasure. That’s when she really started in on me.

She stopped stroking at all. She just held me, and when I’d thrust into the circle her fingers made, she’d let her hand move with me most of the way so I barely got any resistance. When I lay still she moved the circle of her fingers down, very slowly and with the slightest pressure.

I’d never felt such a thing before. Usually she, and every other woman I’ve been with, have seemed very eager to make me cum as quickly as possible, stroking me assertively and even energetically, but this time Ali seemed to be intent on not letting me cum. For some reason this moved me towards orgasm much faster than any other handjob or blowjob had ever done. It seemed that the less effort she put in, the more my body wanted to cum. I didn’t know how long I could stand it, and it turned out I couldn’t stand it for very long at all. Not that I was destined for what you might call satisfaction.

After just a few minutes of this super light touch she pulled her hand away completely and rested it on my pelvis while she moved up on my body so she could look me directly in the eye for what happened next. And what happened next was that my body tensed up as I realized suddenly that I’d passed that magical threshold, that magical point of no return where orgasm is inevitable. But her hand was no longer on my cock so I tried my best not to cum. It didn’t feel right cumming without that final thrust that would send the cum shooting out of me. I did thrust, but couldn’t find anything to thrust into, and so after about two or three minutes of the agonizing battle I finally did orgasm, coughing up a little dab of cum that dribbled down the side of my cock.

I must have made a lot of funny faces, judging from the look on Ali’s face.

I felt a little pleasure and a vast disappointment, which of course Ali read in my expression. She looked at my cock and its pathetic little drool of cum, laughed a little, and then put on the fakest look of consternation I’ve ever seen.

“Oh! Did I … oops!”

And then she laughed again, squeezed up to drain what was left in my cock out onto my belly, moved down my body to suck up the cum, and then kissed back into my mouth. It was the first time she’d ever done that, and I didn’t know what to make of it – I didn’t really make anything of it at the time, to tell the truth. There wasn’t much, and I’m not sure I tasted it at all. Just a little slipperiness on my lips and gone. I couldn’t think about that then, though, because I discovered that I suddenly wanted to cum (again) more desperately than I ever had. But my erection had subsided and gone soft.

Ali watched me look down at myself, hardly believing I’d gone soft, and laughed again with joy and satisfaction.

On the whole it was the second most powerful orgasm experience I’d ever had – I don’t think anything could ever surpass the first real blowjob I got, but I’ll never forget the first time I was ruined, either.

Ali was thrilled. It seemed as powerful for her as it had been for me, and after that she began to experiment with different ways to do it.

The next thing she tried was just lying there, inert, while I made love to her, which she called “starfishing.” Sometimes she’d spread her legs, but other times she held them together. It didn’t really matter, though, it was just missionary sex without her doing much of the pushing back. I liked that just fine. All I wanted was to get into her pussy and make love till I came, and whether she took an active role in that or not it was a feast for me.

Of course that was just a start. Her next venture was to do more or less the same thing while she was on top. That constricted my motions a lot more, but of course not enough to keep me from having my fun. The first time we did that was also the first time she did something else that was new, and that was, after I’d cum in her, instead of rolling over and waiting for me to give her oral sex she just climbed up on my body and straddled my face. At first I thought she was just impatient for the oral stimulation, but it became impossible, after a few sessions like that, to ignore that she was making a point of smearing my face with our cum. Or my cum and her lubricant, and after I brought her to several climaxes she’d move back down and nuzzle me and lick trace remnants of cum off my face while we made love again.

Of course I enjoyed all that.

Her next trick was to make things more difficult. She’d be on top of me, but instead of moving against my thrusts, she’d sometimes move with them, to keep me from getting all the stimulation I wanted. Or she might lock her legs around mine and prevent me from moving inside her at all. That turned things into a sort of wresting match. If I won, say by holding her shoulders and pulling her down on me while I was cumming I got full satisfaction, but just as often she managed to pull herself off of me and deny me that satisfaction while my cock dribbled out just a little cum onto my belly. She almost always laughed with joy when that happened, and let me take my full pleasure after I got hard again, but sometimes she pretended to be annoyed at me for cumming without her permission. On those times she refused to touch me again or let me touch myself, but she might talk to me to try to keep me hard without letting me cum.

She called all those tricks “starfishing,” although I think it was more than that as most people understand the word. There was nothing passive about her when she was on top of me. She was learning how to control me, and I was learning to love it.